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#I’m being vague on purpose but it’s very self indulgent
tariah23 · 2 years
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Been thinking about oc’s today
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its-time-to-write · 1 year
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in love with an idea
This is a very, very, v e r y minor study in the way that Jamie handles his sexuality, and the fact that sometimes it seems he thinks his only value comes from being sexy and playing football. And the fact that sometimes, one night stands are crap even if they feel good. It happens. Especially if you go home with someone wishing they were someone else. Anyway, I have another fic in the works, should be posted soon. I’ve been absent because I’m writing a long one that will never ever see the light of day because it is way too self indulgent. As if this next one isn’t going to be long and self indulgent as well. Thanks to all y’all who support my writing!! Those of you who leave comments/tags have my whole entire heart, and there is no such thing as too many comments. Special shoutout to @whimsical-roasting and @qquell bc you’re probably my biggest/most vocal supporters and I love you🥺🥺 Ok that’s enough words, enjoy the fic!
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in love with an idea
Jamie feels like shit which is weird, because he doesn’t usually feel this way after hookups. He can tell you don’t notice because you just plop down on the locker room bench next to him and ask, “Did ya call your mum yet?” while grinning far too brightly. 
Jamie is going to throw up. You’re smiling at him and he’s going to throw up so he gets up and rushes out of the room without a word. He pretends that he left so fast that he didn’t see your grin fade. 
He’s headed to the pitch because that’s where he’s supposed to be anyway, but all he can think about is the fact that it should have been you in his bed last night. After all, it was your name that had been on the tip of his tongue all night. It was your face he kept thinking of, and your body he was imagining. 
The girl had left satisfied, knowing exactly what she had signed up for, but he still feels like he used her. It’s not her fault that he’s in love with you but took her home, and yet it feels bad anyway. He wonders why no one ever talks about the shitty side of one-night stands. He has a vague recollection of Roy saying something to that effect one time, but other than that, he’s in completely unfamiliar territory.
He throws himself into training with more vigor than usual, purposely running himself ragged. 
Meanwhile, you’re still on the bench looking stupefied. Isaac slides next to you in the spot Jamie vacated. 
He says, “You should probably check on him,” with his usual solemn gravitas so you nod and decide to do just that.
You don’t have time check on Jamie until after training. Ted has you running all around Nelson Road so you just barely catch Jamie in the parking lot. 
“Hey!” you call. “You alright?”
Jamie spins around, icon hat atop damp hair. “Yeah, sure, good, yeah!” he says, and now you’re absolutely positive that something’s wrong. You raise an eyebrow. 
“That totally sounds like something a completely alright person would say, but for some reason I don’t believe you. Is something wrong with your mum? Is that why you got all weird when I asked?”
“What?” Jamie says. “Oh. No. She’s good, yeah. She’s good. I did call her. Talked for a while, which was nice. Talked about this girl I like, actually.” 
The words are barely out of his mouth when Jamie wishes he could sink into the ground. Fuck his stupid rambling. 
“Oh?” you say, eyebrow still quirked. “That’s new.”
Jamie shrugs. “Yeah, it is,” he says and then his mouth betrays him once again as he continues, “I’m actually really nervous about talking to her.”
You laugh. That is utterly ridiculous, and you tell him so. “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt, Premier League footballer. People throw themselves at you every day and you eat all that attention up. Why is she so different? Hold on, are you blushing?” 
You laugh. He totally is, but he denies it. 
“Look,” he says. “She ain’t like a lot of people. She’s fucking…smart or some shit. Not that other people aren’t!” he continues, “But she’s just… different, like. She’s one of fucking… four people who are immune to my natural sexy glow.” 
The way Jamie says the word sexy is always interesting because he never used it comedically. It’s always inserted in some serious declaration of himself, as if that and football are the only points of value he believes he has. You wrinkle your nose. “How is that possible? No one is immune. Except maybe Roy. I heard he got his anti-Tartt vaccine boosted last week. Maybe it worked a little too well,” you say worriedly. 
“I dunno,” Jamie says. “She said she’s looking for someone smart and I don’t really think I fall in that category. All brawn on me, innit?”
He quirks a smile to mask this strange discomfort he has. You’re not used to seeing him anything less than confident. 
“Well Jaim,” you say after a beat, “as someone who is also looking for someone ‘smart,’ it really isn’t about IQ. It’s like… it’s like someone who actually talks to you and has interesting things to say. And is interested in learning, not just from me but from whoever and whatever. And someone who doesn’t talk down. Because, god,” you laugh, “I’ve been on so many dates that are just exhausting because all these smart people want to flex their knowledge instead of sharing it. It’s like a fucked-up power struggle. I never feel that way with you, y’know?”
Jamie tilts his head in a cocky go on type of way. 
There he is. 
You roll your eyes. “What I mean is, you actually listen to what I say and ask questions, and aren’t rude when I don’t understand something that comes easy to you. My corner kicks are getting better, by the way,” you interject. “Sunday evening practice is paying off.” Jamie comes over every Sunday evening to kick a ball around with you on the Richmond Green.
“Of course they are,” he grins. “Learning from the best, aren’t you?” You flip his hat off his head and catch it, returning his smile. 
“Just ask her out, Jaim. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And,” you add, “bring her round! Not enough footballer girlfriends around here.”
Jamie looks at you a moment, taking in the picture of you in Nelson Road’s parking lot, his cap on you head and a smile on your face that he made. 
“Right,” he says, then turns to walk to his car. He’s at the door when he turns and walks back. 
“Forgot something,” he says to your bemused expression. You point to his hat still on your head. 
“Nope,” he shakes his head. “That ain’t it. It’s you. You’re the girl. I talked to me mum about you because I think you’re fucking great. If I’m not your type, that’s alright, but fuck it, I just really fucking like you.”
He takes a step closer. “I’m going to kiss you, so now’s your chance to walk away.”
You don’t. 
You let him flip the icon hat backwards and cup your face in his hands, far more gently than you thought him capable of as he tips your head up to his. 
His lips are soft on yours, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact that Trent Crimm is walking by you, shooting furtive looks your way but you don’t care. 
“I think you’re fucking great too,” you reply when you finally come up for air. 
Jamie grins. “Wanna go on a proper date tonight? Been thinking about where I’d take you for ages. I can pick you up in an hour thirty.”
You smile. 
That sounds great. 
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jenokoi · 2 years
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How is it (the situation) affecting you, and how to move on.
GENERAL TAROT READING BY JENOKOI
Hi. This is quite unexpected, I was not planning on making this reading at all. But here we are, staring one another, you with a question and me with a fear of messing up your answer. However, I am confident this will find those who are meant to read it. Without further ado, tonight we will have a sneak peak on how a certain situation is affecting you, whenever you are aware of it or not, and how to move on (were you wish to do so). Don’t fret if we poke a few traumas here and there, I can not control what I’m told. It is a bit extensive, so please take only what resonates with you and leave the rest for your fellow companions.
That said, there are vague mentions of sexual assault and hints at eating disorders, so if you’re not comfortable with said topics please do not read.
Please take a deep breath and get comfortable. Let your intuition guide you to the answer you seek in the pictures below. Take as much time as you need.
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PILE ONE > PILE TWO > PILE THREE
My tarot readings are guided by the current energy of my subject in question and my own spirit guides. Energies are prone to change based on our actions, and thus nothing is truly set on stone. Please take only what resonates, this is a general reading. It’s okay to not feel drawn to any of the images. If you have to force it into the narrative of your life, then it might not be for you. These readings are for entertainment purposes only.
HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?
HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?
HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?
You feel abandoned, left behind or ignored by someone who was supposed to love and care for you unconditionally. You feel like someone broke a promise made to you. As if you had been led on with a blindfold just to find yourself completely alone in an empty room, an empty paradise.
Some of you might be the eldest child or a role model to a younger family member. You have been left behind, yet a part of you still believes whoever abandoned you will come back. You might have been the second choice or someone is in the position you were told was to be yours. Nonetheless, you still hold onto this person/situation and refuse to let go despite the exit sign being right in front of you. You know there are better things awaiting for you on the other side. In your mind, you know what must be done, how the story ends. But your heart holds onto the faintest of flames in the hopes of a fire to burn every obstacle in your way.
Either someone you trust is leading you on, or you have been warned of what will happen regarding the situation by a male energy.
You might have developed really bad eating habits since the situation started. You indulge in addictions to fill the emptiness left by the excitement of a promised destiny yet to manifest. To calm the anxiety of waiting you abuse of your body and take it to its limits. You are a prisoner of your emotions, ignoring evidence and warnings, accusing your mind of being too critical, skeptical. You turn your back to the truth and keep on holding to the situation (or person).
“I can leave when I want, so I’ll be okay with one more.” Your childhood traumas are haunting your present self. Especially those related to your fatherly figure growing up. You might have been very loved by your father during your child years before he abandoned you or left you stranded. Yet you were told by everyone he loved you the most. You have issues letting go. You believe in a love that can’t be seen because you were told you don’t need to feel or receive it for it to be real. You just need to know it’s there and that’s enough.
You gather every small move, every little bread crumb, and make of it a feast. You are holding onto ideas and no proof. This situation is making you delusional. You grab pieces left behind rather than given to you and call them gifts. This situation could be taken place at work or in a religious environment. You are making a big deal out of nothing. And every time you realize you are moving on you find another reason to come back.
If we’re being honest, you don’t want to move on, but there’s nothing you can do at all regarding the situation even if you decide to stay, and that frustrates you a lot. “If given the chance.” You want (yearn) for something out of this situation that you can’t have. You want to be the only choice. But you are afraid of the consequences were you to act upon your emotions. You are scare of getting hurt. You don’t think you are strong enough to face the consequences, but you are strong enough to not give up so easily.
This situation could be an affair of sorts. Your competition might know of you or of the situation. “You are not welcomed.” In case of an affair or something related to a relationship of three, you don’t think your competition is deserving of the subject of your affections. You believe them trapped, and that you could make them happier.
Whispers: darling, if they wanted, they would.
HOW TO MOVE ON (FROM THE SITUATION).
Take a fucking break and stop consuming so much tarot readings in the hopes of getting a different reading from the one two posts ago. Stop feeding onto your delusions, please. Take back control of your impulses and addictions, return to the mentality of “if it’s not doing me good then I shouldn’t continue,” please. It’s all about using reason to cut the negativity out of your life.
You might have been in a low energy as of late, often wanting to be left alone and leaving things for later (your room must be a mess), not necessary out of sadness though. You have been overthinking every action and fighting your mind took a toll on you. Sometimes to find the problem one must pull from the root.
It’s time to open your eyes and see that you have been drinking from an empty cup. There’s nothing there for you but what you have made yourself believe in. You were not invited to the party, your presence was not needed nor warranted. You are not supposed to be in this situation because there’s nothing here for you. It’s not yours to fight for and it’s not yours to win. You have been ignoring the truth waiting for it to be a lie, and you have been surrounding yourself with little lies that you have made them your truth. Even if it hurts, you are to look at the situation through reality and not your own distorted view.
Walk away from your own make believe world and you will see how clear the signs become. Stop projecting your ideas onto the situation (or person).
It’s time to face old habits and acknowledge how they are slowly deteriorating you. Love is not something you can’t see. Love can be found in memories, in actions, in words. Loves needs validation every once in a while, not because we must give it, but because we love so much we just have to scream it, have to show it, have to tell it. When someone loves you, you don’t doubt it. When someone cares for you, you are not afraid to ask of it.
You have to get comfortable with the dark energy within you so that you can learn to protect yourself with it. Learn your past, discover where your obsessions come from and understand how you can prevent being a victim of them.
You are unable to have commitment in a relationship because you must have control at all times of those who have a piece of your heart. You force your own idea of someone onto them and leave when they don’t act accordingly to your script. You don’t know how to receive love. You grew up thinking love should not be received, just acknowledge. And while it might take a while, you have the strength to grow your heart alongside your mind.
The seeds planted during your childhood have grown, some beautifully, some slowly, others even venomous. A few withered in the shadows. It’s time to put them under the sun and help them grow. Butterflies will arrive on their own, at their own time.
You wish for a change in this situation, blindly dancing with the devil. You refuse to move one because part of you, like a fool, believes you will receive your reward for waiting like a good kid.
Love shouldn’t make you feel like the bad guy.
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PILE II
HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?
This situation makes you feel alive, desired, wanted. You might even receive compensation from it, both financially or emotionally. You are becoming dependent of this situation. It’s euphoric, blinds you with excitement, carries you into a high. Some of you might consume drugs, could be weed or cocaine. This situation feels similar to the story of Alice In Wonderland.
Some of you might video call with someone or exchange nudity content through messages to another participant of the situation. Sexual innuendo warning: a partner might be really good at oral or constantly in the mood. Nevertheless, this situation makes you feel extremely desired and above the competition.
Funnily enough, this situation also makes you feel like less. As if you are not interesting nor cared of as a person but an object to lust after. You feel reduced to how you look rather than to what you can make. You might be afraid of showing your artistic side or ideas. You feel the best participant to a category you don’t think you deserve. You are far more than that, and are not receiving the compensation for all the effort you give. You feel as if your thoughts have no importance, your opinions only for the deaf. You overthink a lot and act as if you care none.
People might say bad/rude things about you behind your back, some even to your face. You might be in a rowdy and raucous environment. Your situation is like fireworks, pretty in it’s appearance, loud in its path, and brief in its high.
Your feelings are in disarray. You don’t know if what you feel for others or what others feel for you is love or lust, if it’s genuine or a parasite trying to suck your blood. You don’t know if they (or a certain person) sees you as a true friend or someone they just want to fuck. You also feel jealousy, a lot of it. Some of you might have stomach ache as of late. Others might be starving yourselves to fit a criteria.
Despite being a favorite, there seems to be a lot of competition regarding your goals. Some of you might constantly feel dizzy, you might like the act of eating a cake more than the cake itself (a rebellious act).
You feel like a fool who tries too hard and only embarrass themselves the more they talk, the more honest they act. There is someone you are trying to impress but they don’t return your affection/interest. This person might always be surrounded by people or talking to someone.
Some of you might be in the fashion business. Modeling, to be more precise. Your situation surrounds you of people trying to survive on their own twisted ways. Prostitutes. Teamwork is not prompted, and often those who play dirty are victorious.
You feel dirty and alone. Cheated on something. You were promised Wonderland and were given the bottom of the rabbit hole. For some, money ties you down to this situation. You feel a product to a store. For some of you, you are dealing with a player, for others, this is a career or project situation. You might feel controlled by a male energy.
TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT
Some of you might have been victims to sexual abuse and assault, could have been continuous from a young age or an event past the age of sixteen. You might be forced to coexist with your assaulter, either physically or mentally. You don’t feel like you deserve/want to be protected or cared for.
You feel like you aren’t and will never be enough. Someone not worth of respect. “Your body is what gives you value, not your mind, not your heart, but what’s between your open legs.” You don’t think you can reach your dreams. You don’t think to be the person to make them real.
You might be haunted by a male energy, and people’s opinions about you matter more than the love you give yourself. You are scared of growing old and losing your beauty.
HOW TO MOVE ON (FROM THE SITUATION).
You are a prisoner to society, to the male gaze, and you must break free of it before you can learn to forgive. It sounds stupid to you, but that same reason is why you are all so fucking depressed. You dislike men, you find them disgusting, but you are noting without them. If they don’t desire you, it means you are not hot enough. If they don’t come onto you, then you are not worth the time. You are nothing unless a man tells you you are his everything.
And eat/drink your fucking protein because you are a shivering wreck.
You don’t have to find value in your mind or your body or your heart. You have to accept that you won’t fit everyone’s taste and that’s t okay, because you’ll be you, and you only need to fit yourself.
You want to be taken care of, but you must learn how to by yourself first before you let anyone do so. Otherwise, anyone will easily sell you a nightmare dressed as a dream. You must break your dependency on external masculine energy.
You have become comfortable on the role of the victim, and thus you refuse to fight for what you want. “It won’t matter what I do, nothing will change.”
It’s a big wall to break through, but once you do, life will make sense. You will realize you are a little less afraid, a little more vulnerable. Once you break free, you will see how the world changes in an instant. How your feelings have power, your voice has strength, and your hand has the gift of giving love to all that it touches, regardless if it’s made of mud or gold. You will be your best friend and your grandest rival; not someone you want to defeat, but who constantly defies you to improve. You will see your dreams stay as they are, drifting away in the sky because you don’t fly towards them. You’ll allow yourself to be understood, that’s okay to simply feel without a need to explain.
Once you start to work for yourself with yourself, you will flourish into a beauty that has no weight, no standard, no criteria but that of simply being. You will fall in love with yourself and the world will follow in a breath.
And some wounds might never heal, some scars will forever mark your skin. You don’t have to forgive them, but you must forgive yourself. My dear, your karma will find them when you stop holding on to it.
You wish for revenge regarding this situation. Someone ruined your inner child, and you can’t let go until justice has been served. However, all those negative emotions are only attracting negative outcomes. Some victories are attained when you leave the battlefield and let your enemies end themselves.
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PILE III
HOW IS IT (THE SITUATION) AFFECTING YOU?
Why are you even reading this man, you clearly don’t want to move on. You truly believe you can work your way into saving this. You don’t want to change shit, you just want to fix whatever is going on and continue on as if nothing ever happened. But, if you already fucked up enough times, and shit is just not working out for you, then it might be time to move on. If you think you can try again, I don’t recommend you continue reading this post :)
Right from the get a go, this might be a cheating situation. Either you cheated on someone or someone cheated on you. It’s cool, we don’t judge, shit spills when the drain is clogged. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic (or a relationship) affair, it could also be a work situation (much like drama office). Whatever it was, it’s irrelevant when compared to the universal truth of pile three: there was foul play in here.
Let us start slow and from the beginning. Fact: you don’t like to be alone. Consequence: you withstand a lot of shit from people as to not feel like you don’t belong. You might be a pushover with a lot of migraine issues. You don’t really put up a fight, especially when talking about this situation in specific.
You don’t like direct conflict. You avoid it, take the punches for the sake of peace, keeping your image clean. Some of you had/have a really bad relationship with your mother, or had someone belittle you a lot during your formative years. A family member might have drink a lot around you. A kitchen has a powerful meaning for some of you (this is very specific, but a tile floor and a room with yellow tones). Nonetheless, to stay in this situation you keep your mouth shut and take the beating. You’re very emotionally weak though, stop lying to yourself about it. Thinking really fuck up comebacks capable of destroying the strongest of enemies doesn’t mean much if you don’t actually use them (granted, you are watching out for yourself and that’s understandable). What’s hard to comprehend is why you put yourself in said situation to begin with.
You have a beggar mentality. Be it for love, money, or validation. You are willing to put up with a lot of crap if the reward is worth the trouble. You have grown dependent of this situation. You might work in an office job or wear blue as part of your uniform. You don’t have any loyalty whatsoever, some of you might be well-known snitches. You put value in people based on what they can offer to you.
A lot of people don’t like you, pile three. They are praying for your downfall in silence. For some, someone you trust is among them (please take this with a grain of salt. If you had no indication of a person plotting against you before, don’t force it now). For others, your friends are ready to give up on you if you don’t pull yourself together. No one really knows why you do what you do, but they don’t trust you. Someone finds you pitiful.
You are seeking something, but you are doing the whole treasure hunt gig wrong. Growing up no one really payed much attention to you, and now you search for it the only way you know; staying quiet or causing trouble. And you don’t understand why despite all your efforts you can’t seem to achieve what others do so easily. You have an inferiority complex, regardless if you come from money or not. Some of you might actually been raised on poverty or a really competitive environment. “Many mouths to feed, not enough hands to work.”
Despite it all, all you ever want is a good, simple life. But you refuse to let go of old mentalities. You want to be the little man and ride off the success of someone else. You don’t want to do anything at all. But lately you have been so fucking depressed and no one wants to be your friend.
But hey, you kept on reading, which means you are ready to give the move on thing a chance.
You want to improve, that’s more than some people can say. You don’t want to be a sentient puppet, you want to be a person with deepness and layers to them. You want to have a major life change, which most likely means you fucked up big time and want to improve. You hurt someone, or someone hurt you (granted, it might have been warranted). But you, quiet literally, want to expel the ugliness out of you, and frankly speaking some people are not having it. They want you to stay the bad person to elevated themselves. But there’s also people around you that are more than willing to help you out, which might confuse you because you won’t know who to trust. You’re ready to put the work, though.
Still, you think life will become boring. If there’s not a villain then there’s not a story to tell. No bad decisions to be made, no more late night drunken shenanigans. So you might be a bit unsteady, prone to giving in everyone once in a while, which might halt any progress you had made. You might have BIG time trust issues. “Leave before they leave you,” stuff going on. Truthfully, you will never move on if you don’t lose that.
HOW TO MOVE ON (FROM THE SITUATION).
To move on, you have to let go of the idea of a perfect life, a perfect you, in a perfect world. There’s no such thing as a life without issues. If you want something you have to put the work into it. Cheating your way into victory is getting a medal without value. Have you watched Wreck-it-Ralph? Yeah? Then you know what I mean. You don’t need to be the most powerful person in the room to be the most loved, the most respected.
Being the first to punch doesn’t make you a better person, m neither does not punching back. You have to stop looking a life thought black and white. You need to let go of this beggar mentality. “You are rich if you’re not poor and you’re poor if your not rich.” Shit don’t work like that bro. You don’t have to break a heart to prove that you have love and were loved. You don’t have to make people hurt you and grovel for your forgiveness just to see that they care. You have to stop seeing everyone as your enemy.
Life is all about how we interact with the universe. Life with life, not life against life. Don’t run from something just because you expect the worst. Nothing will ever be set on stone. Nothing will forever be good and nothing will forever be bad. It’s all about what teachings you decide to carry with you and how you apply them in your everyday. We are constantly learning and changing, for better or for worse.
You have to understand that people have fears just like you, that people can get hurt by your actions. Be more patience, don’t jump at the slightest movement. Don’t enter the first exit you see, let the road take you to your destination. And stop trying to hurt people for the sake of hurting, it’s not cool.
Don’t give value to people based on what they can give to you. You are missing out on so many experiences and learning opportunities by closing off from others. You are blinded by an artificial dream to see what the universe is trying to gift to you. (This is oddly specific, but please stop watching so much porn). It’s okay to ask for help bro, and maybe it’s about damn time you do. You might discover different perspectives about things you used to think yourself an expert on. And stop procrastinating so much, you got shit to do, masterpieces to create.
Don’t be so closed off to new experiences, and try new activities. You won’t belong anywhere if you keep pretending to be someone you aren’t. When you feel the most comfortable, you will find yourself surrounded by people who love you just the way you are. Breaking news, love is not supposed to make you feel like shit.
Also, stop being so hasty. Slow down, take your time and enjoy the ride. You will appreciate all that you have if you simply take a moment to enjoy it.
Stop running away, you will only tired yourself.
You wish to belong so desperately, to fulfill an idea, that you are willing to lose yourself to the situation. Fake it till you make make, make yourself miserable that is. In essence, you are afraid of being alone, to never be wanted for who you are, and you prefer to burn the forest at the first sound of a branch snapping than letting life find you.
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It's really late and I'm very tired, but I had the urge to post this reading as soon as possible. I'll fix any mistakes tomorrow as soon as time allows me to do so. As always, thank you for trusting me with your energies, stay safe, and the universe loves you all <3
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spicyicymeloncat · 2 years
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Guys can we talk more about that pre gen Ninjago 2023 concept. Having the old elementals as the main cast.
What if the show starts off with Krux and Acronix from the present of the original Ninjago, and they’ve just time travelled to before they were even villains and are just quirky nemeses of the main cast (quirky nod to the original show). Also the serpentine wars are probably also going to be mentioned.
The main cast is
- Garmadon: generally a bossy sassy guy who’s always grumpy bc of the venom and tends to be the leader since he’s the oldest. Despite it all he’s got some social skills and is generally well liked for his power. Currently on the side of good bc the venom hasn’t yet taken over. Has powers of destruction and dark energy.
- wu: Garmadon’s worried younger brother who is just trying to make sure Garmadon doesn’t destroy too much stuff. He’s genuine but also genuinely worse at fitting in with the group bc he’s more introverted (I’m riding off the fact that he decided to write Misako a confession letter instead of talking to her, not even after she didn’t get it). His fighting style relies more on technique than magics ability and it’s still ambiguous whether he has similar powers to Garmadon.
- Ray: didn’t realise he was a fire elemental and comes from a long line of blacksmithing. However when villains attacked his village he decided to become a samurai and defend it. Realises his elemental power throughout the series and learns to control it with the help of Maya. Can seem carefree and laidback and a bit of a joker but can also be incredibly stubborn and determined when he gets into it. Also wu and ray are bffs
- Maya: comes from a long line of water elementals and was trained to be a warrior elemental for most of her life. Hence she has a strict way of doing things and everything she does has to be perfect. She feels great responsibility in being the water elemental as it’s an important and sacred element. She’ll probably have an arc at some point where she learns to be messy and doesn’t have to be perfect all the time, and Ray will probably help her be more relaxed or emotional. She’s usually pretty cool headed but uptight. She’s enthusiastic about training and being organised and can be a bit critical when people don’t take it as seriously as her
(There’s not as much things to go off with these other characters so forgive me if everything else is vague)
- lightning: probably a small town girl who just happened to discover her elemental power but had no idea what to do with it. Maybe she was inspired inspired by the group to become a fighter and is generally pretty new to everything. She’s very bubbly and energetic and extremely talkative and is key on keeping the group together in hard times. However she’s also one of the more self indulgent members, and the one most likely to complain about doing super hard training. Despite that it would be cute if her character arc was about her growing into her powers and leading a more purposeful life, like she learns that she wants to fight bc she cares and not just bc she doesn’t know what to do with her powers. Also the thing with Cliff Gordon is like a celebrity crush running gag which then develops into a “Gordon gets damselled a lot and lightning has to save him” running gag bc I think that would be a cute and kinda silly romance dynamic idk
- earth: (Cole’s grandad) he’s a bit older than the other characters (only in an appearance sense to the spinjitzu bros) and he’s a travelling warrior. He was probably a hugely powerful potential ally that it was important for Garmadon and wu to recruit against the villains. I can imagine him seeming like the stern type but is actually just a dad guy yknow. Like he’s secretly a huge softie who hopes to start a family one day. I can see him and lightning having a mentor apprentice relationship yknow. He’s also got that leader esque vibe that I think it would be interesting if at a crucial point in the story he disagrees with one of Garmadon’s plans and kinda challenges his authority and it causes friction within the group. Also I just checked the wiki and apparently he was also manipulated by Chen and hypnotised by hypnobrai to betray the other elementals so that checks out.
- ice: again a bit older than everyone else but he’s kinda mysterious. Hes a renowned wandering warrior who shows up to save random villages from monsters before disappearing without a trace. Bc of this people are both in awe and suspicious of him. He actually comes to the spinjitzu brothers before they attempt to recruit him because he sees visions of the future and bestows them prophecies and is like “and you’re gonna need my help”. He’s cool like that and probably instigates main plot threads with his visions. This does mean he has room for a “don’t shoot the messenger” arc. But you could do many cool things with him and his future vision. Like he looks cool but is secretly in constant existential crises, which will also link into the general time and back in time them with this show being a pre gen and technically the audience also has future visions. And also the spinjitzu brothers are also operating on prophecies
Over all I love them and I want to draw now haha.
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jakdaw-arts · 8 months
Note
Info dump about your digimon OCs pls. 🥺
*chuckles nervously*
That’s a can of worms. Most of the digimon OCs I’ve got are connected with an AU story idea that’s been percolating for a Hot Minute. Main things of note about the universe are that there are no chosen children, no canon characters, the human-digimon partnerships are due to an online game that [reason pending] ended up slightly connected to the digital world, but the digital world has existed for as long as the real world. Humans in the digital world are converted to something closer to a digimon, and ones that die there are treated as digimon and get egg’d, losing their memories in the process unless backed up via a digivice. 
That is all to say that there is so much rattling around my brain about this world lmao. Anyway. There are so many ocs in this setting that i’m just gonna pick a few of em to info dump about.
Characters:
Rush
Keemon > Yaamon > Impmon > Wizarmon > Reapmon > Beelzemon. Self-indulgent reality hopper. Sometimes breaks things and/or makes things weird by yeeting themself into a reality. That noodley little impmon I drew recently. 
The purpose of Rush is usually to be a living macguffin. In this case, they jumped into this reality, splitting off a new timeline because of the Major Change of there being a person where before there hadn’t been. The rules of the digital world decided to be strict about the Weird Thing that invaded, converting Rush into data and having them solidify as an egg, sans memories. Memories slowly come back as they digivolve, they end up traveling with a group of humans with their digimon partners, shit goes down, eventually the day is saved, yadda yadda yadda.
Rush-with-memories is a fairly even-keeled individual, having bounced around realities and dealt with plenty of Situations. Rush-without-memories is an inquisitive creature with little regard for personal space and a whole lot of confusion, once they get past the just-vibing stage they were in as a keemon and yaamon. They have thumbs, an ability to set things on fire, and little regard for how squishable they are (they learn, and shortly after also learn how quickly they can skitter on all fours. thankfully, pretty fast). 
Beelzebumon - The Ratvatar (don’t call him that)
Demon Lord. Similar vibes to the Beelzemon in Digimon World: Next Order. Demon lords’ cores exist outside the realms of space/time, with physical avatars in each of the realities that can ‘respawn’ after a time if they are destroyed. The demon lords’ powers are split up among their avatars, so adding a new split makes them eeever so slightly weaker. Beelzebumon doesn’t care, the rest of the demon lords are displeased. The ripple that happened with the split let him wiggle out of the dark area so he spends most of his time taking in the sights and occasionally watching the shenanigans that a bunch of human children in the digital world are getting up to. Might give them a helping hand in passing, if only out of amusement of derailing the plans of the other demon lords.
He finds the fleeing-from-danger impmon, who is less afraid of him than whatever was chasing them. He lets them tag along for a bit, vaguely intrigued when they talk about the bits and pieces of memories they’re getting back. When they come across a little band of humans he herds the impmon towards them so he can go back to his preferred state of mostly-just observing. He’s the first one to figure out the little impmon is the reason reality got a little wibbly wobbly and made a new branch. 
Kai & Storm
Kai- Human that would very much like off this ride, please. (to be fair, all the humans want off this ride at some point) Storm- Kai’s partner, Puttimon > Cupimon > Patamon > Angemon. Just glad to be here.
Intended to be the primary pov duo. Sheltered religious kid figures themself out in the digital world whether they want to or not. Have I mentioned this bunch gets stuck in the digital world for years? Cuz that’s a whole Thing when they get out and they’ve all aged like five years in what seems to everyone else to be [exact time difference pending]. Kai takes a while to warm up to Storm, since they didn’t play the game nearly as much as most of the others that got dragged in, and *gestures at the whole impromptu long, dangerous camping trip.*
Storm just wants his human to be happy and safe. Once he’s able to maintain his angemon form for longer than the length of a battle he spends most of his time as that, since it’s big enough to pick Kai up and haul ass if something dangerous sneaks up on them. Which, due to the maneuverings of some grumpy demon lords that assume the humans appearing was the cause of the split, is a fairly common occurrence. 
Lawrence
Agunimon. Previously human, died in the digital world, came back as a digiegg. Regained most of his memories with time, most comfortable in his agunimon form (fairly human-shaped, has hands... useful things). Pretty fly for a dead guy. Ends up playing a bit of a guardian role for the human gaggle, leomon-adjacent but with less dying. He’s still a pretty vague idea, but I just think he’s neat. Big ol armored fire guy with horns, being used as an impromptu jungle gym for a bunch of kids and their tiny digi buddies. 
Otherwise there’s a gaggle of other human kids and their digimon partners, to fill out the “a bunch of kids who played this game at one point in time who happened to be close to/in contact with their computers and got yoinked to the digital world” requirement, most of whom are background characters. Plus some mature digimon that take some pity on the kids and help them out, and at least one more human-now-digimon that doesn’t much care to prod around for old memories and is quite happy with how she is now, thank-you-very-much.
I have... far less Actually Written Down than I'd like for this whole mess lmao
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I posted 1,492 times in 2022
That's 635 more posts than 2021!
561 posts created (38%)
931 posts reblogged (62%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@hufflepuffprincesse
@struggling-with-space
@some-lovely-day
@fanboygarcia
I tagged 1,256 of my posts in 2022
Only 16% of my posts had no tags
#queue me in - 551 posts
#kylie rambles - 310 posts
#kylie answers - 185 posts
#top gun maverick - 146 posts
#same mistakes - 136 posts
#bradley rooster bradshaw - 54 posts
#top gun maverick fics - 49 posts
#bradley rooster bradshaw fic - 41 posts
#bradley bradshaw - 41 posts
#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader - 40 posts
Longest Tag: 118 characters
#me reading my wip like they’re going to have magically written themselves and then being upset when i start to hate it
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
if only (bradley “rooster” bradshaw)
a/n: i’m not sure if i love the name of this one but she stumped me folks. hope you enjoy! it’s a plus size!reader fic because sometimes you gotta self-indulge
summary: (plus size!reader) if only Rooster would like a girl like you. if only.
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist
warnings: this was supposed to be plus-size!reader but it’s not really explicitly mentioned until the very end, swearing, insecurities, reader thinks she is less important than she actually is and doesn’t realize her worth, angst with a happy ending, dude wtf is this title idek, i write self-indulgent fics only, idiots in love, some parts of this are vague on purpose,
word count: 7,447
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It’s not like you weren’t used to men hitting on you. Working at the Hard Deck for as long as you had, you were used to the military men who’d drunkly come on to you, offering to take you home, and you’d mastered the art of avoiding their come-ons while also still making pretty good tips. And yeah, when a particularly attractive TOPGUN pilot would flirt with you, your cheeks would go red and you’d feel flattered. But you knew their type and were not a fool to know that almost all anyone’s flirting was fueled by alcohol, not for any genuine attraction. So when Rooster began to flirt with you as his presence became more common around the Hard Deck, you’d smile and blow him off. It was his type to be cocky and flirty; he did it to everyone. While he wasn’t like Hangman, who seemed to be breaking hearts every other week, you knew he’d been around. You weren’t his type. You’d seen the type of girls he’d go home with and it wasn’t you. And then the flirting turned into chats as he collected rounds for the group to genuine conversations on nights when the bar was slow. And then the genuine conversations turned into a genuine friendship. You weren’t sure when you fell so hard for the brunette but how could anyone blame you? He was genuine and sweet and a charmer... He stood out from all the other TOPGUN pilots. Still, it didn’t change that you would never be the girl he’d go after, so you kept your head down, enjoying the time you got with him, focused on your schooling, and your job. Penny often teased you about your not-so-subtle crush on the boy, but you’d bribed her and Amelia into silence. The last thing you needed was for news of it to get back to Maverick and then Rooster, and have to have the boy let you down gently. No, that just wouldn’t do. 
And yet, you couldn’t shake the blush that rose on your cheeks every time he winked at you as he grabbed another round or when he’d tell you he was going to win that game of pool against Hangman for you. He was becoming a distraction in your life and you weren’t sure if you were welcome to it. You were nearing the end of your PhD program soon, knowing you were having to defend in front of the committee soon and thoughts of a hazel-eyed Navy fighter pilot were interrupting your day-to-day life. You longed for him when he wasn’t around, wanted him to be the one cheering you on, wanted him to be the one you were coming home to at night, and that’s when you knew your school-girl crush on him had turned into something more and you were fucked. 
And okay, you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about what life would be like with Rooster if he returned your feelings. About what it would be like to kiss him, to wake up to him in the mornings, to share your life with him. 
But even if he’d like a girl like you, you knew, saw, what he had with Phoenix. You’d heard rumblings of their maybe-not-so-platonic friendship, knew the chemistry between the two. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw could have any girl he wanted and he had picked the best of the best. What could you offer him that Phoenix could? Nothing. There was no better pair than the two of them and you were genuinely happy for him. So, you settled yourself for the friendship and conversations at the bar, trying to focus back on your upcoming PhD defense. And still, you couldn’t shake the feelings for him, the urge to just pull him and give him a kiss any time he flashed you that award-winning smile. And it was becoming a serious problem. 
-
You heard the voices of the team before you saw them, changing in the bathroom of the Hard Deck before you had to leave. You wanted Penny’s approval on the outfit because you had no one else to ask and if you didn’t look good, she’d tell you. She knew how important this was to you. You took a deep breath as you left the bathroom, pulling the zipper up on your boot. “K Pen, what do you think about?” You asked, fiddling with the simple bracelet settled on your wrist. The squadron turned to face you and varying degrees of awe were settled on their faces. You pointedly didn’t look at Rooster, knowing you would turn firetruck red if you made eye contact with him. Maverick was settled behind the bar with Penny and he spoke first. “You look great, kid. Where you headed?” He asked. 
“My PhD defense.” You answered, moving closer to the shot glass Penny had set out for you as you had gone to get changed for “liquid courage”. “You sure it’s not too much with the boots?” You asked, twisting nervously to look at them. Amelia shook her head. 
"You look a boss...”
“Bitch.” You finished, smiling at her. “Okay, boss bitch. I can do that. Yeah, that’s-” You looked back up. “Yeah, I’m going to throw up.” Penny laughed and pointed at the shot. You tossed it back, cringing slightly at the taste of it. Sure, you were a bartender but you weren’t sure how these stupid pilots consumed alcohol like this. 
“I didn’t know you were going for your PhD.” Payback said and you nodded, picking non-existent lint of your pants. 
“Last five years of my life. And I’m freaking out.” You said, finally making eye contact with Rooster. He squeezed your shoulder encouragingly and you tried not to let the butterflies consume you. 
“Why? You’re so smart, they’d be fools not to give it you.” You shrugged, trying not to let Rooster’s flattering words do even weirder things to your stomach.
“I mean, academia is all I’ve ever known. And what am I going to do after it’s over? And what if they don’t like my defense? What if they ask a question I can’t answer?” You watched nervously as Maverick poured you another shot and handed it you. The team protested as you threw it back, sticking your tongue out at the taste. That never got better. Rooster laughed at your face and okay, now you really felt like you were going to vomit.
“(Y/N), you have to give your defense in an hour, now is not the time to be taking shots.” Bob protested. 
“I disagree, now’s the perfect time to be taking shots.” Hangman said. “Got to be celebrating the success of our favorite bartender here.” 
“Easy there Bagman, they haven’t given me the degree yet.” He shrugged. 
“They might as well have, we all know they’re going to have no choice.” You gave Hangman the side eye and he chuckled. 
“Wait, does this mean our favorite bartender is quitting?” Fanboy said in shock. Penny chuckled. 
“Don’t worry Garcia, she’s not leaving us just quite yet.” You leaned your head on the bar, groaning. 
“They gotta give me the degree first.” Another groan. “And a job.” There was a beat of silence. “What does one even do with a PhD?” It was Maverick’s turn to chuckle. 
“You tell us kid.” You groaned again, wishing you could disappear into the floor. Rooster leaned over and wrapped his arms around your frame and you didn’t lift your head off the table, for fear he’d see your blushing cheeks. 
“What’re you doing Bradshaw?” He shrugged, not letting go of you.
“I’m giving you a good luck hug.” Oh. A good luck hug. Bradley Bradshaw was giving you a good luck hug. Fantastic. If you could fall any harder for him, you would’ve at that. 
“Alright, you ready to go?” Penny asked, picking up her keys off the table. You nodded, but didn’t move. If you moved, then Bradley would let go and quite frankly, you’d like to stay like this forever. You could feel her eyes on you but you still didn’t move. “K, I’m leaving now with or without you. You sure you capable of not burning down the bar Mitchell?” She asked and you groaned, finally standing up. Rooster let go of you as Mav assured her they and Jimmy could hold down the fort while she was gone. Your stomach immediately fell once he let go of you but Phoenix quickly replaced him. 
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839 notes - Posted June 27, 2022
#4
same mistakes pt. iii (bradley “rooster” bradshaw)
a/n: s/o to @roosterbrdshaw​ for inspiring a series that i’ve basically have entirely world built for for no reason other than i want to. this isn’t the last you’ll see of Rebel, her shenanigans with Coyote, or her relationship with Mav... that’s a promise. um, also i’m really nervous about this so i really hope i did her justice. i’ve seen all the comments and love both here and ao3, so even if i didn’t respond please know it warmed my heart to know everyone’s enjoyed this as much as i have  
summary: in the aftermath of the mission, you realize it's time to stop running from your fears
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist 
pt. i | pt. ii
folks who wanted to be tagged (yes ik it’s tradition to put this at bottom, no i don’t care): @calsjack @n3ssm0nique​ @alana4610 @xinsonyax​ @fangirl-316​ @kyramaximoff​
warnings: i named the team Iron Daggers because it sounded cool, this series should’ve just been titled ‘justice for Coyote’, seriously Coyote is a Good Best Friend, bullying/hazing, mentions of vomiting, Rebel struggles to communicate her feelings in a healthy way (wonder who she learned that from), insecurities, swearing, Hangman gets a little bit of a redemption arc, i guarantee this is not going to go in the way you’re expecting it to, please appreciate my usage of Chiquitita or i will cry, soft Rooster for the win, 
word count: 8,007
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You were cutting it too close. You knew that. Knew that Cyclone and Warlock would be in behind you in a matter of seconds but wasn’t that what you wanted? To be the last one in so no one had a chance to talk to you, ask you how your three weeks leave was before debriefing would start? 
You barely slid down in the seat next to Coyote before Warlock was calling everyone to attention and you stood, trying to catch your breath. You avoided the pointed looks of Coyote, curious glances from Phoenix and Bob, a disgruntled look from your father, and a mildly concerned look from Rooster. “At ease.” Cyclone called and you all returned to your seats. “Welcome back, Iron Daggers. It’s good to see you all well and alive. I trust you had a good three weeks of leave?” There were short nods from around the room, murmurs of confirmation. You thought back on your three weeks of leave that started in the Mojave Desert and ended with you in the house in San Diego alone and sighed. “Alright, we won’t have certain mission specifics or assignment details for another week or so, so given the failings of the last mission we’re gonna begin with going over where this team could improve from the mistakes made on the last mission. From there, we’ll do training and mission patterns to help solve these errors. Captain Mitchell?” Your Dad nodded, taking that as his cue to begin. 
“Good morning, Iron Daggers. It’s good to see you all back. As Admiral Simpson said, we’re gonna begin with going over our last mission this team flew together. Remember, the goal is to bring you all home alive. Let’s begin.”
-
You heard them before you saw them and made a split second decision to duck into the bathrooms before any of them saw you. Not unlike the Iron Daggers, the Green Vipers were a loud, rowdy bunch. Everyone shouted over each other, demanding a chance to speak, a chance tor regale the others with how they were the best. For you, someone who learned to show her talent in the sky and not with her words, you didn’t fare well among these men and women. You were grateful Coyote saw something in his wingman his fellow squadron members couldn’t but without him, you would’ve asked for re-assignment a long time ago. The Green Vipers, particularly Raven and Shadow, prided themselves on pushing out pilots who couldn’t hang. Which is exactly why you wouldn’t ever let them know you were here, albeit hiding in the bathroom, heart pounding. You were only minutes ahead of the Iron Daggers and then there it was- 
“Coyote!” Came Raven’s piercing voice. “Man, how have you been?” You heard the chatter through labored breaths as Coyote talked to his old squadron, and then introduced the Iron Daggers. 
“Although, we are missing Rebel.” Coyote announced as he finished listing the roster of the team. You imagined your best friend swinging his head around, scanning for you and you almost would’ve laughed had your knuckles not been holding the sink so tightly they were turning white.
“Rebel? Your old wingman Rebel? Man, I thought you finally ditched her for someone better.” Came Shadow’s voice. Shadow and Raven were twins, brother and sister, and man, were they cruel. The ringleaders of all the hazing and bullying that took place on the Green Vipers with a CO just as cruel to match. 
“Never, Shadow. Anyways, Admiral Thompson, this is our instructor-”
“Captain Pete Mitchell. We’ve met.” Came the cool voice of your old CO. There he was. 
“Thompson.” A beat. “Admiral Thompson here is the reason I got shipped out to Bosnia.” You weren’t sure who your Dad was talking to in particular but that suddenly made a lot of things make sense. 
“This morning, Rebel was almost late to instruction and for a minute there, we thought she abandoned us to go back to the Green Vipers.” Coyote joked, forever trying to keep the peace. Never, Coyote, you thought. Never.
“Man, come on you know we don’t want her.” Shadow said, laughing. 
“What do you have against Rebel?” Came Rooster’s voice and you could hear the protectiveness in his voice, the same one you heard when you were 7 and Bradley was telling your elementary bully to back off, again when you were 16 and the boy who broke your heart wouldn’t leave you alone. 
“She’s insufferably annoying. She never shuts up. For a team made of the stuff legends are built off of, I’m surprised y’all haven’t gotten rid of her yet.” Came Ghost’s voice and you almost swore. You’d been an official squadron for less than 24 hours and you were already having your reputation torn to goddamn shreds. 
“She’s our teammate and a damn good pilot.” Came Phoenix’s measured voice, but there was an edge to it, one you’d learned to recognize from the young pilot, only used when she was defending her friends. 
“Well, you can have her. We don’t want her back. The team’s better off without her.” Shadow cooly responded and you felt like you were gonna throw up. Never good enough, never good enough, never good enough...
“Don’t talk about my daughter that way.” Your Dad said, a clear edge to his voice and you could almost picture his stature changing, straightening himself up to his full height, ready to put these people in their place. 
“Well, that explains a few things about her flying.” Admiral Thompson stated and your vision felt blurry. You had to get out of here, couldn’t hear anymore, couldn’t sit around to wait for your team to start agreeing. 
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” You expected your Dad to retort but recognized it as Coyote’s voice. Was Coyote really about to stand up to his old CO for you?
“Do you really trust her as your wingman, Lieutenant Machado?” 
“With my life.” Came Coyote’s firm reply and-
See the full post
860 notes - Posted July 5, 2022
#3
same mistakes pt. ii (bradley “rooster” bradshaw”)
a/n: well this got out of hand... 
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist
pt. i | pt. iii
summary: unfinished conversations and unsaid things seems to be the theme of your relationship of your relationship with Rooster these days.
warnings: we cover a lot of ground, Hangman’s an asshole, insecurities, swearing, i don’t know how the Navy works, me making up things the movie didn’t show us because it’s my story and I can, i think this goes without saying but spoilers for TG:M, canon violence, my friend said the first part gave her emotional whiplash and apparently i took that as a personal challenge, angsty angst, Mav’s a good Dad but also growing up in a military family is hard, there’s a complicated history here and life is not so simple, i definitely got movie dialogue wrong, the movie didn’t tell us how dogfight football works and for that i am unhappy, justice for Coyote part 2
word count: 7,515
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Dogfight football turned out to be a lot more fun than you had expected it to be. You weren’t still entirely sure what the point was, or how to even play, but looking at your teammates shirtless, who weren’t not hard on the eyes by any means... Well, could anyone blame you if your attention strayed a little? You, Phoenix, and Halo shared a smirk as Coyote and Rooster bumped chests. Men, you thought, shaking your head with laughter. As the day wore on, Maverick bowed out, moving up towards the beach near Penny. You laughed at the two of them. Maybe they would finally work things out. Maybe this time they would get things right. 
Not long after your Dad left, one of the footballs disappeared into the ocean, with most of the squadron going after it. You noted that the other had been abandoned and you picked it up. “Uh, hey guys, what do I do with this?” Phoenix turned to look at you, Bob not far behind her. Okay, so maybe, you hadn’t been listening when your Dad explained the rules. Maybe, you’d been admiring your teammates just a little too much...
"Uh, run.” Bob called. You weren’t sure when you’d switched teams but you were now playing on Phoenix and Bob’s team... apparently. 
“Run to where?” You called back as Rooster and Fanboy turned and saw that you had the football. 
“Literally just run.” Phoenix shouted as Rooster and Fanboy took off out of the water after you, Payback and Hangman not far behind them. 
“Okay, okay, running!” You shouted, taking off down the beach as Hondo cheered you on. You shrieked as Coyote came up on your side, diving after you. You slid, kicking up wet sand and stumbled back up. “Phoenix!” You shouted, throwing her the football. She caught it gracefully, taking back off on the other side of the beach. The boys who had been following you took off as they realized you no longer had what they were after. You sighed, mildly thankful. Getting tossed into the water and/or tackled by a 6 foot something pilot did not sound pleasant. Phoenix scored and your team erupted into cheers as the boys groaned. The game continued on with at one point Bob getting lifted up onto someone’s shoulders and later with Hondo getting dragged into the game as well. Eventually, you tapped out with Bob, and the others weren’t too far behind you. The laughter carried up the beach as you all trudged back to the Hard Deck for a beer. Any tension from the night before had been forgotten and you were hopeful this would soften any ill will they all had towards you. Hangman and Rooster were bickering about who had scored the most, despite the fact that they had definitely been playing on the same team at one point. This bickering was different from the insults they were slinging at each other just yesterday though. There was no bite, no real attack, just fun. You laughed and shook your head, sharing a look with Phoenix and Coyote as the three of you passed through the back door of the Hard Deck. Penny smiled and waved at you as you sat down at the counter next to your Dad. She handed you a beer as the rest of the squadron either crowded around the pool table or the darts board or the jukebox, breaking off into their own groups. 
“How’d it go?” Penny asked. You nodded. 
“Good.” You responded, taking a sip of your beer. 
“Who won?” You shook your head.
“I don’t think anyone.” 
“Did you score?” She asked, a teasing smile on her face. 
“I don’t think so. I didn’t even know how to score.” Penny outright laughed as your Dad shook his head. 
“Did you listen at all when I explained the rules?” 
“No.” You responded in such a way that made your Dad roll his eyes. You quickly covered his ears as you whispered to Penny, “They’re all so attractive and shirtless.” Your Dad brushed you off, laughing. 
“I heard that, you know.” You laughed and shrugged, a light blush coloring your face. As Penny moved to serve other members of the squadron, your Dad sighed and you looked over at him, noticing the laughter and humor from his face had disappeared. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked. He shook his head, looking down at his hands as they played with his beer bottle. “Dad?” 
“I saw Ice this morning.”
“How is he?” The look on his face made your stomach sink. “Don’t tell me...”
“The cancer’s back. It’s not looking good.” You groaned softly. The feeling of tears pinpricked at your eyes as your Dad scooted closer to give you a hug. Ice was your godfather and you’d known him for as long as you could remember, always following him around, poking around his office, wanting to know what he was doing. Much to your Dad’s chagrin, you were much more fascinated with Ice’s work than whatever your Dad was doing with pissing off Admirals and recklessly flying planes. Ice and Sarah had had a hand in raising both you and Bradley and after Bradley disappeared and your Dad was constantly sent on long deployments, Ice was your rock, stability, and support. His family offered you more than you could ever ask for. 
“I’m sorry, Dad.” You whispered. He had spent so much of his life alone. He’d never married, never settled down. After Goose’s death, then Carole’s, and Rooster disappearing, you and Ice had been all he had. Now, to think about the possibility of losing Ice too... It was far too much for your heart to bear. “You’ll always have me.” You offered, looking back up at him with a watery smile. You couldn’t guarantee that would be true, not with this line of work, not with this kind of mission on the horizon. But you knew you’d always fight like hell to come back to him. He’d been the only family you’d ever had, especially after Carole died and Rooster left. He chuckled slightly. 
“I know, kiddo. I know.” You heard Coyote call you from behind and you and your Dad both turned. He, Hangman, Payback, and Fanboy were around the pool table. 
“You coming to play or what?” You looked back at your Dad, who lightly shoved you out of your chair. 
“Go, we’ll talk later.” He said, waving you off. You laughed and trekked over to the table as Fanboy handed you a pool cue. 
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938 notes - Posted July 2, 2022
#2
same mistakes pt. i (bradley “rooster” bradshaw)
a/n: @roosterbrdshaw​ made a post about a enemies-to-lovers, maverick’s daughter fic and this was born. i rewatched the movie last weekend and got a new idea, so i scrapped everything i had already written and started over. and then... it got out of hand.... so i’m breaking it up into a least three parts. uhm, kylie, write a slow-burn??? where are we??
title comes from one direction’s “same mistakes” don’t come for me
summary: (enemies-to-lovers, maverick’s daughter!reader) you and Bradley used to be best friends. key word: used to. as in, over, in the past, never gonna happen again. the sight of the pilot makes your skin crawl, disgust and anger curdling in your stomach. it definitely has nothing to do with the unspoken feelings leftover from your teen years. not at all. furthermore, being put together on a suicide mission is not your idea of a good time. no matter what, you and Rooster seemed to be doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again. 
callsign: rebel
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | pt. ii | pt. iii
warnings: my shitty military knowledge, i swore, no the movie didn’t tell us what squadron Coyote originally flew with so i made it up, I am actually from San Diego so some of my personal experience is filtered in here sue me, okay really it’s just my love of burritos, i don’t know jackshit about flying a plane and it’s obvious, i tweaked some of the movie dialogue for plot reasons, justice for Coyote, Maverick’s a supportive Dad no matter how much his daughter fucks up (this will become apparent in the upcoming parts but we get hints here and there in this part)
word count: 5,126
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Maverick took a deep breath, eyes flitting over the board of twelve students recalled for this special mission. “Is there a problem, Captain?” Cyclone’s voice called. 
“You know there is.”
-
You walked into the Hard Deck behind Coyote, welcoming the familiar sounds of music and patrons talking amongst themselves at the bar. You breathed in a comfortable sigh, Coyote looking at you with a smirk. “Good to be home.” You said, seeing your Dad sat at the bar talking to Penny. Coyote laughed, moving towards the back where a tall, handsome blond was sat next to the pool table. 
“You spend twelve weeks here for TOPGUN training and suddenly this is home?”
“Born and raised here, baby.” You said, pushing your trademark aviators to sit atop your head. You waved to your Dad as you followed behind Coyote. Penny turned, seeing you and giving you her signature smirk with a wave of her fingers. You weren’t sure what your Dad was doing back in Fightertown but you had a suspicion he’d gone and pissed off the Admiral overseeing his project in the Mojave Desert. The blond shot up out of his seat, pulling Coyote over into a hug. 
“Machado, man, what’re you doing out here?” 
“Got re-called from the Green Vipers for a special mission. You?” 
“Same thing. Wondering what kind of mission they’re asking us to fly for. Who's your friend?” Coyote opened his mouth, presumably to introduce you when the man’s attention shifted to a group of three nearing the table. Your eyes locked on a tall man sitting in the corner, who was quietly observing and eating peanuts. You lifted a hand from where your arms were crossed to wave at him and he gave you a shy smile back, waving in return. 
“Fellows, this here’s Bagman.” You hear the woman say, attention shifting back to the group. 
“Hangman.” The blond said, shooting the girl a bright smile. Her eyes locked over towards you, clearly getting ready to ask about you. You noted her pin said Trace and you realized who were standing in front of. Few pilots made names for themselves like Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, so yeah, you’d heard of her. 
“Whatever.”
“Who's your friends?” 
“Payback.”
“Fanboy.” Hangman’s eyes slid over to a brunette approaching to the table and you could’ve vomited at the sight of him. Of all the goddamn pilots...
“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.” Rooster took off his aviators, squinting at the sight of you next to Hangman. 
“Hangman.” He responded, giving the man a curt nod. “Rebel.” 
“Rooster.” You responded, and the table’s interest piqued. 
“Two of you know each other?” Phoenix asked. 
“Our old man’s used to fly together. Let’s just say that I’m not a fan.” 
“Coincidentally, neither am I.” He sneered at you in response and you returned the look. 
“Your old man a pilot, Rebel? I didn’t know that.” Coyote said, turning to you. You shrugged. 
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973 notes - Posted June 30, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
i’d lie (bradley “rooster” bradshaw)
a/n: something cute and wholesome to make up for all the angst i’ve been putting out into the world lately. 
summary: Rooster overhears you singing at a barbecue. he can’t help but wish it was him you were singing about. little does he know...
callsign: bubbles
inspired by t swizzle’s “I’d lie” (if blondie don’t officially release this with her re-records i will cry)
main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist
warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, angst if you squint, idiots in love, the team plays matchmaker, allusions to sex like briefly for a sentence at the end, swearing
word count: 1,922
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The squadron had been together for almost a year now and Rooster was enjoying every minute of it. Ever since the team had come back successful, the Navy had elected to keep them together to create an elite squadron, recognizing their compatibility as pilots and people. Maverick was their main teacher and it felt like life had finally settled into place. Except for just one thing, something Phoenix would especially not let go of. His no longer secret crush on you, given the fact that at one point or another over the last ten months the team had done the math and figured out he’d been harboring feelings for their fellow pilot. The team, Phoenix especially, was pushing for him to tell you, but for a man so sure of himself in the air, he was afraid to ruin the solid friendship he had with you. So he watched from afar, admiring the way your contagious laughter lit up a room and the way you danced like no one was watching and challenged anyone who gave you the chance. You were incredibly intelligent, and witty, and everything Rooster wanted. But he contented himself to watch from the sidelines, settling to keep the friendship. 
Which is where he found himself tonight. The team was at some barbecue with some military official’s family. The house was near the ocean and huge. As the night settled in, he found himself sitting on a porch swing outside, sipping a beer and enjoying the sounds of the nearby ocean. One of the younger pilots must have gotten a hold of the music because distantly from inside he heard music from the early 2000’s began to play. Content as he was to sit out here by himself, his friends seemed content to not leave him alone as they all wandered out on to the porch. His eyes skimmed the group, noting that Bubbles was missing. He wondered where you were, briefly wondering if you’d gone home with another pilot. He shook the thought from his head as the team settled in around him. They all conveniently left the seat next to him on the swing open. “Where’s Bubbles?” he asked, trying to be nonchalant in the way he said it. Phoenix snickered. 
“Inside. Some poor Admiral won’t let her out of a conversation. And she’s too nice to say anything.” He smiled briefly, thinking of how you were probably in the kitchen talking to some official who was droning on about his achievements and how you were politely smiling and nodding, not willing to excuse yourself from the conversation. Someone produced some cards and the team began to play as he sat back, slowly rocking in the swing. He listened to the music and after a little while, you finally opened the patio door, bright smile gracing your face. You took the only open seat next to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world and he swallowed, looking away, trying to fight his face from going hot. 
“Hey.” You said breathless, running a hand through your hair. 
“You run from that Admiral?” Hangman joked. 
“Just about. Can I be dealt in?” Payback nodding, and handed the deck to you. 
“Sure, if you shuffle for the next round.” You groaned, leaning back in your chair. Rooster’s arm had been leaned up against the back of the sing and your head just barely brushed his arm. Butterflies erupted in his stomach as he sipped his beer, desperately trying to play it off. Fanboy snickered at his face but said nothing. Distantly, he heard the sound of an old Taylor Swift song being played.
“Sorry Rooster.” You said, patting his arm and then leaning back to the table to shuffle. Rooster felt himself turning red as Bob sent him a knowing grin. He took another sip of his beer, trying to get himself under control. Your hair was falling over your shoulder and the outfit you had worn was simple and yet made you look fucking amazing... as usual, Rooster wasn’t sure how you did it.  He gently rocked on the swing as you shuffled. The team chatted around him and he soaked in the feeling of this moment. Moments of peace and pure contentment like this were rare and he would savor it for as long as he got it. 
“He’ll never fall in love he swears as he runs his fingers through his hair, I’m laughing cause I hope he’s wrong”
Rooster’s eyes flickered over to you as he realized you were softly singing along to the song. He tried not to blush and looked away, not trying to let you know that he knew. He made eye contact with Fanboy as he made kissy faces at him. Rooster discreetly flipped him off from behind his beer as he listened to you sing along. You seemed lost in your own world as you shuffled the deck. 
“He sees everything back and white, Never let nobody see him cry, I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine”
The way your voice followed the musicality of the song perfectly, the way your head slightly bobbed to the music (which he didn’t even think he realized you were doing), the smile that graced your face and eyes as the song played, he felt himself falling harder for you. 
“He’d never tell you, but he can play guitar, I think he can see through everything but my heart, First thought when I wake up, Is my God he’s beautiful, So I put on my make-up and pray for a miracle”
“Gee Bubbles, with the way you’re singing that song, you’d think there‘s a secret crushy-crush we don’t know about.” Hangman said, smirking at her while Coyote made kissy noises. She shot him the side-eye and slammed the newly shuffled deck of cards into his hand. 
“You’re annoying. Deal.” Hangman chuckled and began to deal out the cards. The rest of the night passed without event, but Rooster couldn’t help wonder if you did have a crush on someone they didn’t know about. He knew he had a solid friendship with you, but he wasn’t Phoenix or Halo, wasn’t as open as Fanboy or Bob, couldn’t offer you advice like Coyote or Payback, so maybe there was a crush he hadn’t known about. The thought made the alcohol in his stomach began to feel sour but he had to remind himself that he did this to himself. Finally, you called it quits, leaning up against the back of the swing, head just barely resting against Rooster’s forearm. He wanted nothing more than to move it down and wrap it around your shoulder, bring you into his side, and rub your arm as the two of you chatted with your friends but it wasn’t like that and never would be. Wouldn’t ever be his place to do something domestic like that. A few more rounds got played as you chatted with Bob and Phoenix, but eventually the team called it quits. He elected to spend just a few more minutes outside, enjoying the night as the party still raged inside. Phoenix gave him a look as you stood up to hug Bob and he flipped her off as you pulled away. You sat back down next to Rooster, despite there being a bunch more empty seats. He tried not to let the butterflies in his stomach get carried away. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the swing slowly rocking and you scrolling through social media. He didn’t want this moment to end as he sipped the last of his beer. Finally, you sighed, locking your phone and setting it down on the table in front of you. He looked down at you as you shifted slightly to be fully facing towards him. “Can I talk to you?” You asked softly and he nodded, setting his beer down on the table. 
“Of course. Always.” He said, concern filtering in his voice. Was something wrong? Were you going to leave the squadron? Had you figured out he liked you? He was slightly panicking. You picked at the skin near the corners of your nail, a nervous habit of yours. Did he make you nervous? That was the last thing he wanted. 
“Um, I need to tell you something just to get it off my chest because Coyote thinks I really should and um, I don’t want you to like freak out or anything, but I just need to tell you.” He nodded slowly, still mildly confused. And yet, there was kernel of hope growing somewhere in his heart that maybe, just maybe- You took a deep breath and shut your eyes. You leaned your forehead against his arm and groaned. “This is so fucking difficult.” 
“Hey, it’s just me.” he said gently, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. 
“Yeah, and that’s the problem.” You said, not moving your head. Something chipped away at his heart at that but he tried not to show it on his face. He rubbed his thumb on your shoulder gently. 
“You don’t have to tell me.” He whispered. 
“Yes I do because I’m gonna hate myself if I don’t.” 
“Okay, well, take all the time you need.” The two of you sat there for a few more minutes before you finally lifted your head to look at him. He left his hand placed your shoulder rubbing small circles because you hadn’t pushed him off yet and it seemed to be bringing you the smallest amounts of comfort. You took a deep breath, hands settled in your lap as you looked at him honestly. 
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1,065 notes - Posted June 28, 2022
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gold-and-leather · 2 years
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About
Hey! You can call me M. This is a side blog to cordon off all my toxoplasmosis’d OC thoughts and reblogs and so forth. I have not used this website in a very long time, so please bear with me. Info about the cat is below the cut. It’s brief. I’ll add to it if I feel like it.
Who’s The Goddamn Cat
That’s Teneb’ri, the FFXIV character I made in April 2022 on a whim when I decided I’d denied myself a they/them ossan for far too long. The purest of indulgences. A dorito to a Victorian child. I hate them. I love them. They have destroyed my health and I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Why Do You Hate Them
Explaining this would take far too long. What I need you to understand is they fuck up readily and easily and I, their writer, am the one who controls the rate and severity at which they suffer. They would beat me to death, and I’d deserve it.
Why Do You Love Them
Stockholm syndrome. ...They have their moments. And self improvement is sexy.
Anything Else We Should Know
Our storylines tend to dip into some dark/taboo subjects. I’m being vague about this on purpose, mostly because I’m not sure how much I’ll bring it up over here. If that’s generally not your cup of tea I will absolutely not be offended if you decide not to engage. In fact, I encourage it! Curate your space! Please!
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novorehere · 2 years
Note
Favorite vore tropes/scenarios?
Oh man. That is quite the question anon, I don’t think I can go into too much detail without writing a whole essay on the subject (Which in all fairness I’m sure I could) But I’ll try to keep it at least somewhat brief: (Edit: it’s not brief anymore, oops)
1. General hurt/comfort scenarios, or just casual G/t romantic/platonic vore snuggling for fun. It’s just. Such a great way for characters to bond, to grow closer together. I’ve always been drawn to the idea of being tiny, and by extension being swallowed by someone else. Tucked away inside a stomach where they can hold me close and comfort me with the sounds and sensations of their inner workings all around. It just sounds so nice and cozy. Belly rubs are a must, from both the inside and the outside. There’s no way for two people to be closer than this, and that’s what makes the moment so special.
2. Accidental/unaware vore. Some of the first times I was ever presented with the narrative of being inside someone else’s body as a kid were in the form of the characters not realizing what was going on until afterwards. Just think about how many times that gag is played for laughs in the “vore episodes” of TV shows. (In retrospect, that one magic school bus episode was probably the largest offender,) But I I think that’s a big part of where my fondness for the scenario comes from. It allows for a more “realistic” in-character story, since most canon characters probably wouldn’t be going around swallowing people on purpose. xD There’s just something so fun about the initial realization, imagining how different characters would react to having found out they had ingested someone they know unknowingly. Are they embarrassed? Disgusted? Angry at the prey’s carelessness? Do they try try to mask their embarrassment with jokes? Alternatively, is the prey desperate to reveal themselves, or do they dread having to explain what happened? Those post-vore discussions are always so delightfully awkward, and I cherish them very much. It’s just a shame more people don’t write it very often!
3. Teasing of any sort. Being teased by a predator who revels in my flustered embarrassment is just... the actual best. Maybe they comment on how cute and small I look, and how easily they could pick me up and swallow me with minimal effort. Mouthplay especially is great, being dangled over an open maw is just *chefs kiss* and comments on taste especially get me. Certain bits of vaguely vore-ish dialogue just get me melting into a puddle on the spot. though shouldn’t that the the stomach’s job? Things like: “You’re so cute, I could just eat you up,” or “The fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Or, just little quips here and there. Like saying, “down the hatch!” before the predator swallows. I also really enjoy teasing in a non vore scenario, preds alluding to past experiences, cracking jokes and embarrassing the other party. Maybe the prey even does this to the pred, too.
(Warning: Digestion mention)
I will admit, I do enjoy allusions to digestion sometimes. While I primarily enjoy safe vore, there’s something about being treated like nothing but food by a villainous character that’s just... really good. I don’t like to think about the actual thing, more so the process of going down and being taunted with it. Pain is a big no for me, so it’s sort of odd that I would be into that?? I’m still not really sure why, but I digress.
4. Unabashed gluttony. This one’s kind of self indulgent. Just knowing the pred is hungry for you and can’t contain themselves any longer. The idea of making someone satisfied is appealing to me specifically (I’m a big people-pleaser irl) so vore sorta comes naturally. The idea of being a meal for someone, filling them up and making them feel good just gets to me. The thought of someone enjoying your taste, loving how you feel in their stomach, commenting on how full they feel... it just gives me butterflies idk. This is also a big reason why stomach growls are so appealing to me. It just hammers in the hunger beforehand, and the satisfaction afterwards. I know some people here aren’t really into burping, but this is pretty much the sole reason why I like it a lot. It’s a sign that you did a good job, that they’re satisfied with your “work.” Both are also great for teasing, going back to #3.
5. Foodplay. Again, similar to #4. The thought of prey being enjoyed with other things can be really fun, and there’s lots of potential with the wide variety of foods you can go with. I always found it funny how “hiding in a sandwich” (Literally who would ever do that?) is such a common trope that the vore community latched on to, when there’s so many better options in my opinion. Relaxing in a warm bowl of ramen, being drank with a beverage, a cute topping to a dessert, dipped in sauce or chocolate, the list goes on. You can even incorporate accidental vore quite easily with this sort of thing, the pred not realizing there’s an “extra ingredient” in their food. Sure, being in a stomach with what is. uh. technically vomit is probably not the most pleasant thing ever, but at the end of the day, it’s a fantasy and can be as nice and pleasant as you want to imagine it being :) I for one like to think it would be kinda nice, hearing the pred’s body digest happily all around me while I was kept safe. It’s always worth it knowing they’re happy!
Welp, this kind of turned into a longer post than I expected. But there you have it! If you agree with any of these things I would love to gush about them further. Just shoot me an ask or something!
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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years
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Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader
Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.
Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader
Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.
Words: 2878
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I Masterlist I
A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?
“Ew! Stop it!”
You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.
If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...
Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.
Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.
“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”
“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”
“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction. 
“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes. 
“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”
Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.
You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”
As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.
She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.
“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”
However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:
“For this is your duty as a princess.”
[Present Day - Asgard]
It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.
Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.
Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.
Now there was no way back, that much was sure.
You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.
One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.
To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.
Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.
Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.
To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.
But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.
A Frost Giant.
Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?
Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...
So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?
Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?
It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.
You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?
You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.
No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.
“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.
The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”
You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.
“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.
Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?
One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.
“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.
“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.
And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”
“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”
“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he  pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.
Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.
“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.
“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.
The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.
“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”
 “May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.
Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.
Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.
“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”
Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”
Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?
He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!
“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.
Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.
There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.
“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”
Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”
Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.
“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.
It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.
“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.
The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?
Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.
“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”
He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”
“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.
“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”
Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.
You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.
Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?
And was he truly beyond repair?
“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”
Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”
“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”
Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?
“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.
Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...
So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.
“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”
“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.
“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”
The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.
Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.
Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.
Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble -  but right now, it was worth it.
May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.
“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”
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jayoctodot · 3 years
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The Silent Patient vs The Maidens
I will start by saying that I understand the appeal of these novels as page-turners. They are easy to read and if you want a twisty reveal at the end, you will probably be entertained and satisfied. That being said, I am SO CONFUSED by the near-universal adoration of The Silent Patient and the reasonably positive reception of The Maidens. The weaknesses of the two are strikingly similar, as well, which doesn’t give me much hope of seeing improvement from this guy, though I am intrigued to see whether he keeps repeating the same (apparently successful!!) patterns. These books were at least super fun to hate.
(For context, I read The Maidens for a bookclub I'm in, because several of the members had read and loved The Silent Patient, and one of them gave me a copy of the latter to read on my own time. I loathed The Maidens and then read The SP for comparative purposes. And because I'm a masochist, apparently.)
SPOILER WARNING! Do not read on unless you've finished both books (or unless you care not for spoilers). Sorry if it gets a bit shouty.
Here are the similar weaknesses I noticed in both:
PSEUDO-PSYCHOLOGY
-> Weirdly similar “group therapy” scenes early on where a cartoonishly unstable patient arrives late, disrupts the meeting by throwing something into the middle of the circle, and is asked to join the group after the therapist(s) speechify on the importance of boundaries (HA! None of these therapists would know an appropriate boundary if it kicked them in the ass) and debate whether to “allow” the patient to join. Both scenes are so transparent in their design to establish the credibility/legitimacy of the narrators as therapists, but instead both Theo and Mariana come off as super patronizing. The protagonists are less and less believable as therapists at the stories progress (though at least Theo’s incompetence is explained away by the “twist” at the end; Mariana, on the other hand, is confronted in the opening pages of the novel by a patient who has self-harmed PRETTY extensively, and rather than ensure he get proper medical attention, she essentially throws him a first aid kit and tosses him out the door so she can pour herself a glass of wine and call her niece... and it devolves from there).
-> Ongoing insistence throughout the narrative that one’s childhood trauma entirely explains the warped/dysfunctional way a character behaves or views the world, which is why the books go out of their way to give EVERY potentially violent character a traumatic childhood; when Theo insists that no one ever became an abuser who hadn’t been abused themselves, I wanted to throw the book across the room. (That is a MYTH, SIR. GET OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR ARMCHAIR PSYCHOLOGY.)
-> Female murderers whose pathology boils down to “history of depression” and “traumatized by a male loved one/family member.” Because, as we all know, depression + abuse = murderer!
-> The “therapy” depicted in both books is laughable and so so unrealistic, mostly because neither narrators function as therapists so much as incompetent detectives, obsessively pursuing a case they have no place pursuing (or skill to pursue - both just happen across every clue mostly by way of clunky conversation with all the people who can provide precisely the snippet of info to send them along to the next person, and the next… until all is revealed in a tired, cliched “twist”). Their constant Psych 101 asides were so tiresome and weirdly dated (also, the constant harping on countertransference got so ridiculous that at one point during "therapy" Theo literally attributes his headache and a particular emotion he feels to Alicia, as though the contents of her head are being broadcast directly into his mind... and I'm PRETTY SURE that's not how it works???)
CHARACTERS
-> Psychotherapist narrators with abusive fathers and pretensions of being Sherlock Holmes, which results in both characters crossing ALL KINDS of ethical lines as they invade the personal lives of everyone even tangentially connected to their cases (and, in Theo's case, violate all kinds of patient confidentiality. Yeah, yeah, by the end, that's the least of his offenses, but before you get there, it's baffling that NO ONE is calling him out on this).
-> All female characters are either elderly with hilariously bad advice, monstrous hulking brutes, or beautiful bitches (except for ~MARIANA~, who is Bella Swan-esque in her unawareness of her own attractiveness, despite multiple men trying to get with her almost immediately after meeting her. I'm so tired of beautiful female characters being oblivious to their own hotness. Are we meant to believe all mirrors and male attention have escaped their notice? If it’s to make them “relatable,” this tactic really fails with me).
-> All characters of color are shallow, cartoonish side characters, and most of them are depicted as unsympathetic minor antagonists (the Sikh Chief Inspector in The Maidens continuously drinks tea from an ever-present thermos, and his only other notable characteristic is his instant dislike of Mariana, whom he VERY RIGHTLY warns to stay out of the investigation that she is VERY MUCH compromising… the Caribbean manager of the Grove is universally disliked by her staff for enforcing stricter safety regulations at the bafflingly poorly run mental institution, because HOW DARE SHE. There's a very clear vibe that we're supposed to dislike these characters and share the protagonists' indignation, but honestly Sangha/Stephanie were completely in the right for trying to shut down their wildly inappropriate investigations).
-> "Working class" characters (or basically anyone excluded from the comfortably upper-crust, educated main cadre of characters) are few and far between in both stories, but when they show up, he depicts them as such caricatures. We got Elsie the pathologically lying housekeeper in the Maidens, who is enticed to share her bullshit with cake, and then a TOOTHLESS LEPRECHAUN DEALING DRUGS UNDER A BRIDGE in the SP. I kid you not, a man described as having the body of a child, the face of Father Time, and no front teeth, emerges from beneath a bridge and offers to sell Theo some "grass." I was dyinggg.
-> There are no characters to root for. Anywhere. Partly because they’re all so thinly drawn — and because we’re clearly supposed to view almost ALL of them as potential suspects, so they’re ALL weird, creepy, or incompetent in some way.
-> The flimsiest of flimsy motives, both for the narrators and the murderers. Theo fully would have gotten away with his involvement in the murder if he hadn't gone out of his way to work at the Grove and "treat" Alicia and his justification for doing so is pretty weak; his rapid descent into stalking and murder fantasy and his random ass decision to "expose" Alicia's husband as a cheater with a spur-of-the-moment home invasion and staged attempted homicide is ONLY justified if the reader hand waves it away as WELP, HE'S CRAZY, I GUESS (after all, he DID have an abusive father and a history of mental illness, and in Michaelides novels, that's ALL YOU NEED to become a violent psycho). I guess we're lucky Mariana didn't also start dropping bodies (because the logic of his fictional universe says she should definitely be a murderer by now... maybe that'll be his Maidens sequel?). But she especially had NO reason to randomly turn detective - and she kept trying to justify it by saying she needed to re-enter the world or that Sebastian would want her to (??), even though she had no background in criminal psychology... or even a particular fondness for mysteries (really, I would've accepted ANYTHING to explain her dogged obsession with the case. WHY were Sebastian and Zoe so certain she would insert herself into the investigation just because one of Zoe's friends was the first victim? WHY?). As for Zoe and Alicia, their motives are mere suggestions: they were both abused and manipulated, and voila! Slippery slope to murder.
WRITING STYLE
-> Incessant allusions to Greek tragedy and myth, apparently to provide a sophisticated gloss over the bare-bones writing style, which opts more for telling than showing and frequently indulges in hilariously bizarre analogies. Credit where credit is due — the references to Greek myth are less clunky in the SP, and I liked learning about the Alcestis play/myth, which I hadn’t heard of before - but OMG the entire characterization of Fosca, who we are meant to believe is a professor of Greek tragedy at one of the most respected universities on the planet, is just absurd. His "lecture" on the liminal in Greek tragedy is essentially the Wikipedia page on the Eleusinian Mysteries capped off with some Hallmark-card carpe diem crap. The lecture hall responds with raucous applause, clearly never having heard such vague genius bullshit before.
-> Super clunky and amateurish narrative device of interludes written by another character; Sebastian’s letter reads like a mashup of Dexter monologues and Clarice’s memory of the screaming sheep, but by FAR the worse offender is Alicia’s diary, where we’re supposed to believe she painstakingly recorded ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS, BEAT-BY-BEAT DIALOGUE, even when she’s just been DRUGGED TO THE GILLS with morphine and has mere moments of consciousness left… and even before that, she literally takes the time to write “He's trying the windows and doors! ...Someone’s inside! Someone’s inside the house! ETC ETC” when she thinks her stalker has broken in downstairs. WHO DOES THAT?)
-> Speaking of dialogue, the dialogue is so bad. Based on his bio, Michaelides got a degree in screenwriting, which makes his terrible dialogue even more baffling.
-> HILARIOUSLY rendered voyeur scenes where the narrators spy on couples having sex. Such unintentionally awkward descriptions. First we had Kathy’s climax sounds through the trees and then the bowler hat carefully placed on a tombstone before the gatekeeper plows a student. Again, I died.
PLOT/"TWIST"
-> The CONSTANT red herrings make for such an exhausting read. Michaelides drops anvils with almost every character that are so obviously meant to designate them as suspects in our minds. There is absolutely no subtlety in his misdirections.
-> The “crossover” scene between the SP and The Maidens makes no sense - when in the timeline does Mariana’s story overlap with Theo’s? They confer just before Theo starts working at the Grove, obviously (though Mariana appears to be the one who alerts Theo to the job opening there? Whereas in the SP, Theo has been obsessively tracking Alicia since the murder and had already planned to apply to work there?), but then are we supposed to believe that while Theo has been psychotically pursuing his warped quest to “help” Alicia, he’s also been diligently treating Zoe, so invested in her case that he repeatedly reaches out to Mariana to get her to visit Zoe and even writes Mariana a lengthy letter to convince her to do so??? And then a couple days after The Maidens ends, Theo is arrested???
-> But the thing I really did hate the most is how Michaelides treats his female murderers (who are both also victims themselves) as mere means to deploy a “twist”; there’s no moment spared to encourage our sympathy for Zoe, who was groomed and manipulated by the only trusted father figure in her life, and even after spending a decent amount of time getting to know Alicia via her ridiculous diary, where it’s so apparent that she’s been demeaned, objectified, manipulated, gaslit, and/or used by EVERY man in her life, she’s sent packing to spend the rest of her days in a coma… HOW much more satisfying would it have been for her to succeed in exposing Theo and reclaiming her voice? But no, she basically rolls over when he comes to finish her off (SPEAKING OF — ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THERE ARE NO SECURITY CAMERAS IN THIS INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE????), writes one last diary entry, and drifts off forever. And then a couple pages of nothing later, the story is over. GOODNIGHT, ALICIA!
Both books kept me rolling throughout (by which I mean eye-rolling but also rotfl). Maybe I will check out his next effort — I’m morbidly curious what he’ll turn out. It does leave me wondering whether I should give up on thriller novels entirely, though. Are many of the weaknesses of these novels just characteristic of the genre? Maybe I'm just holding these books to unfair standards? I'm mostly only familiar with thriller films — many of which I think are amazing — but maybe you can get away with more in a film than you can in a novel.
...I really only intended to write a handful of bullet points, but more and more kept coming to mind as I wrote, to the point where subheadings became necessary. Whoopsie.
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sagemoderocklee · 3 years
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2021 doesn’t feel like it happened, but it did, and now it’s 2022.
I can’t pretend that I didn’t have some amazing things happen to me last year. In fact, it was by far one of the best experiences of my life: I went to Ireland for a month and it was life changing.
But this post is about fanfiction, so I’m going to refrain from goin’ on and on about my Ireland adventure, and instead do another fic wrap up! Surprisingly, I actually have fics to wrap this year and it’s all thanks to the Naruto-Run One-K that myself and @ghoste-catte​ hosted! If not for that event, I’d only have two Absolution updates and the very first fic I posted last year to show, which wouldn’t really be much of a fic wrap.
Obviously, most of these new fics are WIPs that I wasn’t planning on posting in 2021, but here we are! I genuinely hope everyone enjoys these fics, and I hope to actually stick to my resolutions a little more closely this year--though, while my Ireland trip kept me from writing, my move to Ireland at summer’s end may also do that.
Side note: Tumblr DESTROYED the image quality on the middle banner, like I do not pretend to be good at these things, but I promise I’m not THAT bad!
SageModeRockLee’s 2021 Fic Wrap
if this were the last i felt you breathing (COMPLETE)
In 2020, I had signed up for a holiday exchange, which was of course a bad idea because I am terrible at getting things done on time and what was even worse: I could not come up with a single idea. Thankfully, my giftee was someone who--while not a GaaLee fan--loved Gaara, Lee, and all of Team Gai. Thus, I decided to dust this old rewrite of the Rescue Gaara arc off and gift it. Looking back on it, I am actually so much happier with it than I was while I was writing it, and if nothing else I just enjoyed being able to give Lee and the Sand Sibs more prominent roles in Gaara’s rescue.
Absolution: Part II+III (WIP)
This still surprises me. Two updates! This fic has quickly become one of my favorites, and I cannot wait to continue on with it. The next part is taking longer than I’d planned because I’ve come up against a few inconsistencies (fixed now, though!) and I think I need to recalibrate a few other things which may ultimately lengthen this fic. I was hoping to keep it at a tight nine chapters, but I am nothing if not ridiculous so if you see that chapter number change--no you didn’t. ;) This fic also now has a beta reader, which has also made it so much easier to write because a beta always motivates me! I think it’s safe to say this is currently one of my most popular fics, and I think with good reason. I really enjoy being able to approach Lee’s changes through Gaara’s eyes. It presents an interesting challenge, and in general, I think this fic has helped me grow a lot because of that!
I have also taken to writing side stories for this fic, so who knows, maybe I’ll share some of those too!
Koshu (WIP)
An idea spawned by a Florence+the Machine song? Totally surprising, I know. Not at all something I’ve done.... multiple times. This fic had been just a vague concept for years, but then randomly in 2021 while walking home from work the song that inspired this fic came and on and I was motivated. There isn’t much to say about this fic yet, but I will say this is going to be another departure for Lee as a character, and I’m excited to write it.
The Cost of Silk (WIP)
This was an entirely accidental fic. It started out as something for GaaLee Bingo in 2020, didn’t really fit or have a purpose, but I liked what I’d written so much I didn’t wanna just ax it. After talking it over with my Absolution beta @jessicamiriamdrew I came up with a story and when the Naruto-Run launched it seemed the perfect time to throw yet another political drama out there. This will be more self-indulgent worldbuilding, and I am very much hoping to get some of this fic worked on this year!
The Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix (WIP)
I honestly didn’t think I’d sit down to write this fic, but the prologue had been in my head for a good long while, and so I figured let’s just go for it! I don’t even know where to begin. This fic is honestly another one of those fics ideas that is so dear to my heart and that I am so excited to do, while also a little anxious. This will be a new worldbuilding adventure, and as always, I strive to maintain respect and dignity of every culture I interact with in my writing. This will be a long fic exploring Lee’s origins, and with the help of my sensitivity reader, I hope I can deliver an excellent story.
Fill in the [ ______ ] (WIP)
Oof. This one was also for GaaLee Bingo in 2020, and let me tell you.. she’s a bitch. I’m still not 100% sure how I feel about everything, but I’m gonna do my best with this one. I loved my initial premise, but I got incredibly stuck after powering through an incredible first few scenes back in 2020, and then I left this for so long I sort of forgot any of what I’d figured out. That all being said, I think when we leave things for a while, sometimes the newer ideas are better, so I’m hoping that will be the case here! This is definitely going to be an angsty adventure fic, so buckle up!
The Passing of Things (WIP)
This is not my usual--I mean, the tragedy and the grief and all that is definitely usual for me. And, okay, yes slow burns are also very typical of me. But this fic wasn’t even going to be GaaLee. Like first I had the idea based on the art and I was like “okay, Imma write a GaaLee fic with this”, but then it didn’t feel like a GaaLee fic... and it felt aimless, directionless. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, what the story was aside from “grief”. And once again, thanks entirely to the Naruto-Run, I figured it out. And now it’s not only a story about grief, it’s a story about healing and love. Ergo, GaaLee.
One of the things I like about these types of fics and why I tend to err on the side of dramas and tragedies in my writing is because of my own personal experiences and because I think that too often fandom and even mainstream media tries to downplay the realities of the world. For me, fiction has never been a form of escapism. It’s been a way to explore things, to voice things, to share things with others. Through writing fic, I hope to reach other people who’ve gone through loss, and that’s very much what I hope this story does.
The Eagle’s Augury (WIP)
Originally, this was an ask game. Someone sent me a title and I had to write the summary of the fic I’d write with a scene from it. I think the title was something about thunder or storms--I could also be entirely misremembering and mixing this up with a different fic, now that I think about it but uh I have way too many to always remember. Anyways rambling aside... this should be a fun project, especially because I am a sucker for ShikaTema and this gives me more excuses to write them. Also, this is fully a ‘Neji Lives’ AU, I decided this randomly when I was filling out the character tags on Ao3. This isn’t a story about grief and loss, so why not? It will be a lot of fun--and maybe a little challenging--to write a GaaLee fic where Neji’s alive because it’s been a while since I’ve thought about how Neji feels about Gaara or how he’d fit into the whole dynamic that is presented with a GaaLee relationship, so that will also be fun!
We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips in a Garden of Gardenia, Yet We Go the Way of the Red Camellia (WIP)
Here she is! My ridiculously titled Hanahaki fic! I’ve talked about this and talked about this, but honestly I hadn’t touched this fic in ages. It was for the best, because I was able to make some really important changes to the premise of this fic. One of the challenges, and an often overlooked issue with fantasy like this is the tendency towards falling into fascist rhetoric. Environmental fascists are very good at selling the narrative that “people are evil and killing the planet”, and I think even the most well-informed and well-meaning person can fall victim to that mentality because it’s not obviously fascism from the outside. But it is rooted in fascism and racism. People are not the problem, capitalism, colonization, and racism are the problems. And I wanted this fic to be able to reflect that it isn’t people it’s... something else. So the Corruption was added in. Obviously, this is just the first chapter so there’s a lot more work to be done to really drive this home, but I figured now would be a good opportunity to reflect on the challenge revisiting this fic presented for me. 
Pomegranate Sun (WIP) Co-authoring with @ghoste-catte​
This fic.... Greyson and I have had this planned for quite sometime. Ever since one of us or both of us tagged the other in an ask about ‘who do you wanna write a fic with in the fandom’. Greyson happened to be interested in an Arranged Marriage AU and I just happened to already have a very long summary for an idea (yes, the idea was originally inspired by a Queen song). I sent it to Greyson and, voila! I haven’t co-written a story since high school. And honestly, that barely counts because we never got more than a chapter done.
Anyways! The prologue for this is ALLLLL Greyson--well, except for the tarot reading which my roommate was instrumental in helping us put together! So I haven’t actually publicly posted anything for this fic, but I do have the first chapter started and I am SO excited to go on this journey with Greyson and share this fic. We have SUCH plans!
The Allied Nations Saga: Honor Bound (WIP)
And finally, the last fic, and also technically the first fic because I did hit that post button about three minutes after midnight and well, technically that means this is my first fic of 2022 doesn’t it? 
Maybe that means this doesn’t need to be here, but it’s already here and I already made the banner, so...
Honor Bound fell to the wayside a long time ago. I love Alliance, it really is my baby, but fics like TAoL and Absolution are far, far more polished. The ideas, the characterizations, the worldbuilding. But that’s what happens when you start a fic in 2010. You grow as a writer with every story you tell, and I grew a lot over the course of writing Alliance. Alliance led me to TAoL and Absolution, and literally everything else I’ve written.
But it’s also very different and that’s why Honor Bound has been left to collect dust. I desperately need to edit Alliance. I need to fix the things that I do better now, refine the things that were so close to being there then, and maybe cut or add things here and there.
Honor Bound, however much work Alliance needs, is still a fic I do not want to leave forgotten. Allied Nations does need to be completed, so I’m excited to be ending 2021 and starting 2022 on this note. I hope that anyone who ever read Alliance will come back for this sequel, because there is a lot in store for you!
----
It’s incredible to think the majority of this happened in the last month. The majority of this year has been so costume/Ireland focused that I was honestly surprised when I got inspired to work on Absolution--and posting two chapters back to back? Unheard of! While writing-wise, this year wasn’t as productive as I wanted it to be (the word count really took a considerable drop from 2020), I have to say I’ve ended on a much better note than I thought I would and I really hope that I can balance out writing and sewing more in the new year!
Total new works: 10                                                                                 Total updates: 12                                                                                 Total completed works: 1                                                                      Total words: 69,715
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Last year, I made a ton of resolutions and a lot of them I didn’t reach, but some of them I did. I can’t be too upset about failing at a good portion of my writing resolutions when I spent a whole month abroad, but I do want to revisit what those were:
2021 Resolutions VS Reality
Reach 1million words (+238,073 words): ❌ Not reached. Added only 69,715 words. To reach this goal I still need 168,358 words and I’d like to try meeting that goal this year. In 2020, I wrote nearly that many words, so I think this is a resolution that’s very possible if I can focus.
Finish IEYH: ❌ Not reached. While this is by far one of my favorite fics I’ve written, I have struggled on the second chapter, which has thus kept me from reaching this 2021 resolution. Chapter two is very nearly done, and I think this will be the first fic I update this year!
Finish Pearl-Filled Lungs: ❌ Not reached. While I did not finish this particular fic, I did start working on it again. I’ve got the whole thing plotted out and I even added in some new stuff! My main goal for the new year is to get my shorter fics done, and this will definitely be at the top of that list!
Update TAoL (Chapter 12 and 13): ❌ Not reached. I wouldn’t say I failed spectacularly, but I did fail. I have both of these chapters started, but no where near done, and I have a feeling it’ll be some time before I get there. 
Update Absolution: ✅ REACHED! Here’s to more updates in 2022!
Update 13SUpdate: ❌ Not reached. This is another one that I started the next chapter of and then got no where. This is a longer work and far more detailed, so while I hope to update this again this year, I don’t expect it to happen for a bit.
Find Me (Chapter 6): ❌ Not reached. I didn’t even touch it. This was by far the biggest failure of all my resolutions, and I do not think I’ll be putting this on my resolution list for the new year. I would love to finish this fic, but for now I’m not going to make it a goal.
Start the Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix: ✅ REACHED! I’m not gonna lie, I did not think I would start this fic this year, but that Naruto-Run to One-K was HIGHLY motivating! I am so thrilled by the prologue, and so ready to get into research mode for this fic!
Start editing Alliance: ❌ Not Reached. While I rushed to post the newest installment to the Allied Nations Saga, actually editing Alliance was not in the cards for me. I was too focused on costumes this year to work on tackling this beast of an editing project, but with HB up, I have no excuses now!
Return to working on Honor Bound: ❌ Not Reached. This may not make sense, because obviously I posted the prologue, but the prologue of this fic--as well as the first three subsequent chapters--has been ready for literal years. I wanna say like five? Apart from re-reading it, I did not do any work on HB, which will obviously have to change in the new year!
Return to working on We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips: ✅ REACHED! And I genuinely cannot believe I did it! I was really down to the wire getting that first chapter posted for the event, but damn did I make it happen! I am so excited to finally be able to post the ridiculously titled fic I have talked about for ages, and I just hope it doesn’t disappoint!
Resolutions Reached: 3                                                                    Resolutions Not Reached: 8
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Now that I’ve looked back on the incredible and astounding failure that was hitting all my 2021 resolutions, it’s time to make some 2022 resolutions!
2022 Resolutions:
Reach 1million words--168,358 words to go!
Write the sequel to Flyweight Love, (which is called How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful and I shorthand it as HB3)
Finish IEYH
Finish Pearl-Filled Lungs
Finish The Passing of Things
Update Absolution (Ch 4-6)
Update TAoL (Ch12)
Update TBotDatP aka the Ballad
Update WNNBYT aka the Hanahaki fic
Update Pomegranate Sun (Ch1)
Update 13S
Edit Alliance
Update Honor Bound
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Your writing is so amazing. I love how deeply you can write out these character's emotions and put so much feeling into the dialouge. 10/10. But, if you don't mind recommendations, I think establishing setting and character placement can be improved. Love your writing, keep it up!! :)
Hi friend! I appreciate your kind words. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I understand your criticisms. The difficult thing about feedback delivered this way is that it's sort of required to be vague, and as such, it is pretty unhelpful. Based on my understanding of it, I'll explain why I don't write the way I think you want me to.
I don't write settings for two primary reasons: (1) I simply do not like it and (2) I write Reader inserts.
As to the first point, I struggle with a mild form of Aphantasia (read more here), which means I cannot picture things in my head the way many other people can. I don't write settings because I don't see them, and it takes hours of extra work for me to do so. That being said, I do it in my original writing (using a lot of references, most of which can be found at @things-ill-never-write).
For this same reason, I skip entire paragraphs to pages of writing when I'm reading because I find it completely pointless, since I will not be able to picture it. Even when I tried as a kid, I became very frustrated that it didn't match what I imagined the background to be.
My fanfiction specifically is written because I want to read it (as opposed to my original work, which I write in part to be marketed). If I wrote the setting out, I would simply skip it when reading. So, in short, I don't write setting because it would add hours of extra work for me for literally zero benefit to myself 😅
Finally, this is just a style of writing. I don't write like Tolkien, and I have absolutely no desire to do so.
As to the second point, I don't write settings in many situations because I do not want to alienate Readers. It's a common thing in Reader inserts for authors to describe things in excess - which is not a good thing in my opinion. Too often you have to make design decisions that would break the immersion for people who like to self-insert. They would be forced to think things like "I wouldn't put that there/why is that there/that's not my style/that's not what my place looks like."
Same thing for larger settings, like universities, cafes, restaurants, parks, etc. I want people to be able to imagine wherever they are. Since that's incredibly challenging to do if I opt for describing things literally, I try to shift to metaphorical description or the emotional impact of the scenery on the characters.
So, again, it is very different in my fanfiction than it is in my original work. This was very long, but I wanted to explain that I'm not ignoring your input, and it would certainly be true for an OC/character ship/original work, but it is simply too hard to do for something that's intended to be low stress, self-indulgent fun.
I'm assuming that the second criticism (character placement) is also tied into that ^, but it could also mean that I explain their placement in relation to each other too much (which is what I feel about my own work). It could mean I don't do it often enough? I should do it a different way? I really don't know 😅 I'm only familiar with it from a directing standpoint, which is very hard to translate into written work without excessive description.
In the future, it's probably easier and more helpful to simply offer criticism when in an open dialogue with the writer. I am very open to feedback generally (I have several beta readers for this purpose), but to many fanfic writers, unsolicited criticism is considered rude (more here), since we are generally writing for fun, and spending very little time and effort on it compared to other, original work. Which, makes sense. It is being provided for free.
Not to mention it's confusing and sort of stressful when we can't understand what's being criticized. It's also difficult for some people to accept suggestions because there is no frame of reference for whether we would like your style of writing/preferred reading.
We each enjoy different things, and I think that finding a writer that perfectly hits all of them would be a rare and stunning thing, indeed.
We're all different, and isn't that just wonderful 🥰
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curiosity-killed · 4 years
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hua cheng, the accidental person
okay this is for @bodhimcbodeface because i can’t shut up and make this concise enough for discord. spoilers ahead yeehaw
this is...not comprehensive. i’ve written 11 tgcf fics and am generally a bit fixated on Hua Cheng as a character so. there’s definitely things missing but i tried to hit the main points that i thought of while writing? also obviously this is just my interpretation! i do not expect anyone else to be like “ah yes curio the sage is so correct i have changed my thinking on this” like go live your life with your own versions of hua cheng! this is just the hill upon which i have firmly planted myself and from which i refuse to be budged. as u do.
anyway, LONG explanation of my very niche and very uh self-indulgent, not-necessarily-support-by-canon hua cheng apologism LMAO
tl;dr: (this is really Too Long i’m sorry) I think Hua Cheng reluctantly becomes a person during his 800 years of searching, starting from a point where he views Xie Lian not as a person but as an immutable god and focus of devotion and developing into a person who doesn’t really acknowledge that he’s a person because realizing that you want to live and do things for yourself is scary and overwhelming at times, and he ultimately falls in love with Xie Lian during the novel itself as he recognizes and is in wonder of the humanity of Xie Lian instead of his divinity or absolute judgment.
POINT 1: Hua Cheng doesn’t actually fall in love with Xie Lian till the ox cart
but curio! you say, “my beloved!” he calls him his beloved! and the land of tender!!
shhh. IMO Hua Cheng is more Wuming than Hua Cheng for those 800 years. By which I mean, for most of that time he’s, at his heart, a nameless soldier trying to find and serve his crown prince/general/god. He still views Xie Lian as this perfect and immaculate figure—a sculpture, a painting, a work of art that is untouchable and immutable. And he’s utterly and wholly devoted to that figure but devotion is not the same as love
So Hua Cheng is searching and trying to serve Dianxia all these years and then His Royal Highness finally ascends and is a god again and Hua Cheng shows up in all his glory to give this power and strength and wealth to serve him and—
and he’s met not by a powerful and reckless martial god or an unstoppable calamity but by a young man dressed in bridal robes who lets Hua Cheng lead him up a darkened mountain, who doesn’t lash out with spiritual energy or a sword but instead, only eventually, with the cursed bandage he was carrying back in the darkest part of his life.
and i think that throws hua cheng. like he’s had this image of his god all these years, this divine painting made over and over and over again—and he carries that belief and devotion with him, but there’s a crack in the sculpture and the stone is starting to flake off to reveal a human underneath it
so he puts on an approachable, malleable, unassuming skin and finds xie lian collecting scraps and being a lil awkward, a lil bumbling, generous and kind — and i think hua cheng, after 800 years of knowing everything, having everything — I think he looks at this discovery with wonder
Bc tbc this does not mean Hua Cheng views them as equals. For him it’s like, dianxia has even more to him, is even more than I knew. He’s seen Xie Lian as the flower crowned martial god in all his glory and as the white-clothed calamity in all his horror — and now here he is, wonderful, multitudinous, and human
Meanwhile I don’t think Hua Cheng even views himself as a person really, much less a human.
also i mean. the internet & allo ppl prove time and time again that you don’t need love for horniness so. land of tender’s right out as proof on that
POINT 2: The Live For Me thing
so obviously and undeniably, using one person as a reason for living is....not healthy. Not going to argue that. but my take on it personally is that, when Hua Cheng’s a kid who really, actively wants to die and sees no reason for living, Xie Lian gives him a reason to keep going. he doesn’t have to live for himself—that’s too much, that’s too big of an ask—but he’s been given a command and purpose by the one person who’s been kind to him/whom he respects. it’s a little like... “My life has no meaning but my cat needs me to feed him and clean his litterbox and so I need to keep getting up and taking care of him even if I don’t see a larger intrinsic purpose to my life.”
and i think like...it’s easy to forget that for all of books 2 & 4, Hua Cheng is young. He doesn’t live past 18—he’s still like...a kid. And that’s not to say that teenagers/young adults can’t make moral and rational decisions but I’m going to be honest, when I was that age I contemplated joining the Air Force because of tuition assistance and the snazzy uniform despite the fact that I was a vocal pacifist and repeatedly got into arguments with teachers about school rules and conservative politics. It’s not like. The Most Rational and Mature Age, lbr. 
so Wuming is absolutely capable of looking at what Xie Lian is doing and being like “hey maybe war crimes aren’t a great idea” but he is young and traumatized and the one person he believes in, the one person who gave him a reason to keep going, is deadset on this task which tbh I don’t think either of them (or...necessarily...the society in which they live) views as war crimes in the modern sense (which isn’t to say that we as readers should view it any more lightly bc i think the narrative directly and firmly contradicts that idea) but as revenge, as an eye-for-an-eye. so, bad, but character-wise, I think it’s more nuanced than we sometimes consider
anyway back to the fixation on xie lian. i stand by the assertion that in those 800 years, hua cheng wasn’t exclusively focused on xie lian. like was finding and serving him his top priority? oh god yes. undeniably. there is no other version of this story. BUT eight hundred years is like....a lot of time. and i think in that time he started doing things for himself, even if under the guise of serving xie lian. hua cheng is curious and adventurous—he clearly likes to learn even if he plays it off as nbd—and i think he starts to realize that about himself in those centuries even if he doesn’t allow himself to acknowledge or consider it. 
POINT 3: Mt. Tong’lu in General
“okay, sure but what about the thousands of sculptures and murals of xie lian, curio. what the fuck about them.”
Yeah. FINE. okay we will DEAL with this. dealing with this is the entire reason i wrote “(like i do) in the tall grass.” 
disclaimer: this is probably not supported by canon! i also. Do Not care. My Ghost King Now.
so I have two general avenues I take with this:
going back to the devotion > love — when Hua Cheng reaches MTL, he’s seen xie lian beaten and cast down. what do gods need to survive? worship! we see throughout how important divine statues/portraits/etc. are throughout canon. in this interpretation, the cave is a concentration of all that worship in an effort to support and serve xie lian and hua cheng doesn’t view himself like...as part of it. the sculptures could have been carved by any hand so long as they are xie lian and the worship and devotion that goes into their making can support and bolster him.
my personal favorite version: amNESIA IN THE CAVES —okay i don’t have the text pulled up rn but y’know how Guoshi says Hua Cheng was almost dispersed, in terrible condition, etc., when he reached Mt. Tong’lu. so if baby boy is in terrible condition, barely hanging on, etc., then my immediate favorite option is that he doesn’t, at that time, have even the...uh threadbare sense of self he did in life/as Wuming and is running on only a vague and urgent sense of Something driving him—something he has to do, someone he has to serve—and in that case, the paintings and sculptures are part of his trying to piece together and process his memories as he can grasp them and figuring out who he is/what his purpose is. Is this canonical? PROBABLY NOT. and yet here i am. firmly planted on this hill
Also w/ MTL I think a thing that’s often skated over is the mortals, creation of E’ming, and his ascension. Which is important from a meta lens of Hua Cheng and Xie Lian vs Jun Wu but that’s not the point of this rambling monstrosity and i’m trying not to get too distracted. ANYWAY I think this is one of those times when Hua Cheng does something that he would probably excuse as like “well His Highness would’ve wanted me to” or “His Highness wouldn’t have been willing to sacrifice the mortals” because Xie Lian is still largely his moral compass—but it also is a peek at the complexity Hua Cheng doesn’t acknowledge within himself.
uh i got distracted anyway and no longer know what point i was making here. Hua Cheng Ascension Important....maybe i will remember this at some other point...
POINT 4: Live For Me (Revisited)
I sort of got distracted writing that point but anyway coming back to it now: I maintain that although Hua Cheng’s primary pursuit is protecting and serving Xie Lian he also does develop/realize his Accidental Personhood throughout his 800 years. this includes a lot of things, as previously stated, that are under the guise of serving Xie Lian (I’d put learning the Banyue tongue, finding out about the Gilded Banquet, collecting swords, beating the 33 officials etc., in this category) and things that maybe could be but...are not really (e.g., his friendship alliance with He Xuan, Paradise Manor* in general, the Gambling Den, learning the Wuyong tongue, bullying Qi Rong*, bullying FengQing*, playing with gold foil palaces, etc.)
(*these are ones that like...could be said to be for Xie Lian and I think he might say are for Xie Lian but also have a personal element that is just for him. 
Like yes Paradise Manor is a lavish and well-stocked residence fit for a god or crown prince...but it’s also a luxurious and extravagant collection of all the things he couldn’t have in life. it’s like giving a kid a credit card with no limit and letting them run wild through uh. Fuck. A Fancy Department Store. 
And sure Qi Rong was awful and turned on Xie Lian in pretty damning ways, but I also genuinely think part of Hua Cheng’s grudge with him is from the childhood abuse and from just...hatred that Qi Rong is around and looks like Xie Lian and gets to be there when Hua Cheng can’t find Xie Lian (which is about  Xie Lian but for Hua Cheng). 
Similarly with FengQing, sure a lot of his hate is for them abandoning Xie Lian—but he doesn’t even know till Book 3 when they abandoned him, and consider how much more he hates Mu Qing, the guy he blames for kicking him out of the army, etc. Some of it is totally “in service” to Xie Lian but some of it is because Hua Cheng carries a grudge like a goddamn pro and finds catharsis in beating the shit out of immortals who bounce back and can’t stop tripping over themselves and onto his blade.)
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boop-le-snoot · 4 years
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 7
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Rating: Explicit.
‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. There is violence in this chapter.
Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!
A/N: *chants* BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF BRUCE FLUFF. *sings* they're ain't no big thing just show them a little swing. Beneficial Cucumber. Author's notes are spoilers without context at this point... Y'all-
My beta, @miscmarvelwritings . We make the best duo. I am her dumb of ass and she is my gay. I love her.
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Tony was elbow-deep in a robot when I came out of the elevator, Peter holding up the spare part needed, hovering next to the engineer. Without preamble, I was directed to help and dutifully fulfilled Tony's requests. Nothing indicated that my evening stunt ever happened besides Pete's faint blush; I might as well have written it off to the tank top hugging the upper part of my body in all the right places.
I was disappointed, I won't lie to myself - I expected Tony to tease me at least a little bit, snark something vaguely lewd and move on. But the engineer was quiet today, eerily so, almost to the point where it seemed he was ignoring me on purpose. My pride didn't let me begin any of our usual banter so I frowned in silence, making the appearance of a very focused person. Bolts and screws - most interesting things in the world!
As usual, I clocked out first around eleven thirty, leaving Pete and Tony some time to discuss their secret science stuff. Usually I would be exhausted by this point which left little to no room for jealousy but that night, emotions hit me like a freight train and it took me every ounce of my willpower to head out to Bruce's for the inevitable "I'm disappointed in you/Fuck safely" round of brainwashing.
My brain kept returning to the downwards tilt of Tony's mouth and the somber mood around him. I hated seeing him so...unhappy and tense.
The moment I set step in Bruce's lab, I saw the man's back hunched over a tube, I felt the same energy coming from him. What a fucking day! The sigh that left my mouth was resigned. "Bruce?"
A couple of seconds passed before he turned. He attempted a smile but it didn't reach his eyes at all. "Hi, Princess."
I cocked my head in defeat. "If this is the part where you lecture me, let's get over it. Or even better, you say nothing and we carry on," I pursed my lips, inspecting my nails in favour of actually facing the scientist.
I heard the click-clack of his instruments being placed on the table and the soft taps of his shoes against the tiled floor. His arms reached around my shoulders before I could even attempt to pull away, one of his broad palms tucking my face into the crook of his neck.
"I'm not mad, baby girl," He told me quietly.
I felt some of the tension dissipate, wrapped my arms around him, coming to a realization the man was all but melting into me.
"Just stay safe, alright? I don't want you to get hurt," With the same quiet tone, Bruce gently shushed my worries away. "If something is wrong, you can come to me. You know that, right?" He sounded painfully hopeful as he withdrew just enough to capture my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye.
Something about the look in his eyes made my heart ache. I didn't have the heart to refuse, nor did I want to, so I nodded. Promptly, I was embraced yet again, his lips resting on the crown of my head, both of us swaying gently.
I've never wanted to cry so badly in my entire life.
"I'm a fuckin' mess, Bwucie, you haven't got a clue what you've gotten yourself into," I settled for a round of self-deprication instead. Bitter as it was, it was the barenaked truth.
"Then you're a beautiful mess," I could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. So I smiled, too, obscured by his lab coat.
As much as I didn't want to leave the embrace, like, ever, I had to get home before one o'clock - before mother went to bed, zonked out on Valium and Ambien from the endless supply closet courtesy of my dad. "M'hafta go home," I mumbled.
Bruce sighed deeply. "I'll grab one of Tony's cars and drive you," He went over to remove his lab coat as I gaped. "I'm a forty-five year old man, I can drive." He chuckled humorlessly.
"Tony won't mind?" I asked the first question that popped into my mind to attempt dispelling the awkward moment.
"Trust me, he won't mind at all," Bruce mumbled darkly. I wondered what's up with that but the immediate future for me was already planned out: I was really looking forward to going home, crawling into bed with my clothes on and having a good old fashioned cry.
We made quick work of locating a set of keys and peeling out of the garage in Tony's shiny Audi R8, tires squealing on the wet pavement. It had stopped raining sometime during my robot building but the city was still filled with puddles. I could smell the moist, decaying leaves through the tiny gap of the window, the city was drowning in autumn like I was drowning in my own cluelessness.
The adrenaline rush, the weight of Tony's foul mood, the grief and pleading that radiated off Bruce mixed into a horrendous cocktail of misery and pain. Too much pain for my little, weak, dumb heart to handle. And all these people out in the streets, dressed to the nines despite the disgusting weather - laughing, hugging and drunkenly giggling, it was like salt on my wounds, rubbing it in how much of a good time they were having.
"This your house?" Bruce pointed at the black, high gate of the entrance to my garage.
"Yeah, it's a bit much," I nodded absentmindedly, seeing Bruce's eyes bulge at the sheer size of my estate. My mother wouldn't settle for any less than the best so having a monstrously huge (for NYC) home was what she got. Dad just signed the checks.
Bruce hummed.
I made a face, reaching for his warm hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks, Bwucie," Smiling at him, I used up the last of my good mood to show the gratitude he deserved.
He pulled me into a tight hug right over the middle console. It wasn't comfortable by any means with the numerous buttons and switches poking at the soft of my stomach but there was nowhere else I'd rather be than in his arms during that moment. The breaths that left me felt like they were punched out of my chest cavity by steel-toed boots.
"Good night, Princess. Sweet dreams." He kissed my cheek, lingering just a tiny bit.
I did the same, rubbing softly against his stubble and giggling at the ticklish sensation. "Night night, Bwucie."
I waved at him again as I unlocked my front gates and watched him speed off from behind it, obscured by the shadows of the decorative trees growing right behind the fence.
Bruce's face had morphed into something akin to torment or suffering the moment I disappeared from his immediate eyesight and it baffled me to no extent. I ransacked my brain left and right, searching for a reason I might have inadvertently caused him to feel that way but found none. The only logical reason was that he was just lonely. He didn't have many friends from what I gathered and if judging by the proud tone in which he spoke of Will-Mr Davies today, he desperately needed some other company than his teammates. I wish I could have helped.
Mother was nowhere to be seen when I entered the house so a beeline for my bed was successful. The ugly, loud, dry-heaving sobs weren't in any shape or form attractive or acceptable to show to anybody but me so when they forced their way out of me, the pillow keeping me company. I cried as for everything that was happening to me as much as I sobbed because of the self-pity I was indulging in.
It was pathetic, really. My mother would scoff and my father... Well, he'd offer me to 'cheer up, throw a party, do normal teenager stuff'. The bottle of wine I kept in my closet was empty in no time: I justified that as a single lady in a big city, I was entitled to relax once in a while.
Who was I lying to? I downed a bottle in twenty minutes just so I could fall asleep and begone from all this bullshit for a while.
On Monday, I anonymously submitted the documents pertaining to Thompson's behaviour to the school board and to a local newspaper that was known to dabble in socialite gossip. Next day, an investigation was promptly launched and important-looking people started to appear in the hallways, going in and out of the principal's office. Flash was pulled out of class by two police officers: at this point, half the student population was unashamedly filming it on their smartphones, me included. With grim satisfaction, I sent the video directly to the group chat with an added message of "so long, fucker".
Steve didn't even remark on my profanity, just sent a thumbs up.
It really fuckin' blew up the next morning. The news was plastered across every paper, every social media site - "Midtown Principal's son arrested for grand theft auto and assault", "Midtown Principal Being Investigated for obstruction of education" and other ridiculous headlines that had me, Bucky and Natasha in shit-fits.
Flash returned to school on Wednesday accessorized with a pretty ankle monitor and a sullen frown. During lunch, he sat only with two of his closest minions instead of the chatty group he was usually seen with. Everybody avoided him like the bubonic plague, even teachers ignored him.
With the final bell, me and Pete went on to look for Happy outside the school territory.
I was spending nearly every evening at the tower either in Tony's or Bruce's lab or sandwiched between Wanda and Bucky on the couch, gossiping while TV shows mutely played in the background. I had found a second friend in the face of Winter Soldier who, much like me, spent a lot of his days occupied by the internet or in a general state of confusion. Bucky was charming, funny and very flamboyant. I enjoyed the no-nonsense attitude and zero fucks that he gave the world in general.
The moment I stepped on the other side of the gate, I immediately knew something was wrong. Peter squirmed uncomfortably beside me, looking frantically in every direction, trying to spot Happy's car in vain.
"Ay, Parker," The familiar obnoxious voice of Peter's bully reached our ears. "You wanna tell me how you got your grubby little hands on that file?"
Thompson had brought back up with him, the idiot that he was. He was standing off to the side, leaning against the fence while five older boys surrounded us in a tight circle.
"Leave us alone, Flash, you're already in trouble," Peter tried reasoning with the bully meanwhile I... I was searching for a cleaner, dryer spot to dump my $1500 bag onto in preparation for the inevitable. I was no stranger to swinging my arm - as a frequent house party guest, I've had to fend off enough unwelcome advances. I've been told I have a mean, mean right hook.
"Bold of you to assume Peter would actually steal something," I stated in a bored tone once my bag was out of the way and Pete was standing securely behind me. I wasn't afraid of Flash, mostly because I knew he'd step back for the fear of retaliation from my family was usually too much.
"Oh, look at that, the weirdo is talking," Thompson mocked, getting up and standing right in front of my face. "You know, I don't get why the likes of you have to go to school with us, normal people. See, Peter here might be a little wimp but at least he won't shoot up the whole school one day because his daddy didn't love him enough," Thompson decided to test his luck. To finish his epic tirade with a flourish, he spat on the ground next to me.
I snorted. "Wow, that's an awful lot of smart words for someone as dumb as a doorknob," I shook my head in disdain. "Look, either you go now or I'll sue you so far up your ass, you'll be sucking dick in prison just to get something to fill your stomach with." And wow, that comeback was really, really good. I was proud of myself.
I saw pure rage mar Thompson's already ugly face into something demonic and ducked at the last moment, feeling the blunt sting of his knuckles connect with my left cheekbone. Reflectively I swung, too, decking him straight in the nose with all the rage and despair that was burning deeply inside of me at that time.
I heard gasps all around me as the students whispered, shouted and cheered at Thompson's confused form hitting the ground. He held his face and his palms were stained a deep crimson; I felt something warm on my face, copper in my mouth.
"Does anybody want some of that, too?" My tone was icy. I shrugged off the hand that landed on my shoulder, glaring down one of the boys who came with Thompson.
"Shit, cops, RUN!" One of the students suddenly shouted and just like that, both me and Flash were surrounded only by a handful of students who had filmed the entire incident on camera. God bless technology!
"Uh, I think you're bleeding," Pete timidly remarked from behind me, hand still awkwardly outstretched towards me. He cast a guilty look to the side where Happy was running towards us, phone held to his ear, no doubt already on the line with Tony and the rest of the Avengers. Shit, fuck, SHIT. I didn't plan for this!
The police officers called an ambulance for Flash and took my statement while I was holding my bleeding nose up to the sky, much to the officer's dismay. Happy had passed the officer his mobile phone and I briefly heard Tony's voice saying that I will be taken care of in the tower's medical suite - and let's face it, no cop will go against Iron Man's charm and wit.
As an eighteen year old, I could refuse the on-site medical assistance that the city provided and my parents weren't required so I was let go after my statement was taken and my injuries photographed.
Not that the photoshoot really was required. Multiple people had the incident on video, from multiple angles. It was an open and close case. I called my mother in the elevator (she didn't answer) and left her a voice message with the bare facts of the situation and my current whereabouts.
Seeing the whole team assembled in the living room, some nervously twitching, some anxiously pacing, I couldn't help but let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "Oh my god, guys, I'm not in a coma, stop acting like I'm in a coma!"
Bucky was the first to approach me, carefully hugging me and steering me towards Bruce. He looked a bit rough, green-ish? I guess. But the first aid kit was already on the table and Stephen Strange was hovering nearby.
"You decked the sucker real good, doll," Bucky's Brooklyn accent made his speech less intelligible but he definitely got all the cookie points for the heat and the passion.
"Ditto. Should've kicked him in the balls, too," Natasha smirked and Steve mirrored her smirk with a darker twist.
"I'm going to sue him so darn far up his ass," Tony seethed, looking absolutely livid.
"Don't worry, mother's got it handled," I obediently laid down on the couch, staring up at Bruce's wide eyes and Stephen's focused face.
"You are fearless and fierce, dear lady," Thor boomed from somewhere.
All of this was making me... Emotional. I just punched a piece of human garbage, it was not a big deal, okay? He had it coming. I chuckled uncomfortably, wincing when Bruce began dabbing at the dried blood on my face with a piece of gauze soaked in alcohol. "Petey, you alright?" I asked, worried about the sudden onset of silence from the usually chatty boy. He mumbled something. "Speak up, I can't hear shit with all the ringing in my ears."
That earned me a worried look from doctor Strange and a frown from Bruce.
"I should've protected you-I mean-it's not that you can't do it yourself, or because you're a girl, it's just-I," he suddenly stopped.
"Go ahead, kid," Tony urged him with unmistakable kindness in his voice.
"You see, I'm-I'm actually Spider-Man and I'm afraid to accidentally kill someone, 'cause I'm really strong." Pete blurted out.
I had to replay his words several times in my head to get to the gist of what he was actually saying. Shy little Peter? Spider-Man? So that's why he was such a fucking pacifist? I mean, it made perfect sense if he really was strong enough to lift cars and hold together collapsing bridges like I'd seen on YouTube.
"Huh," I stated after a brief pause. "I guess I did double the work today, dumped out some trash and prevented a potential murder. I'm on a roll and I deserve chocolate cake," I rambled to distract myself from the incoming dull headache and the sting of the alcohol against the split skin of my cheek.
Strange chuckled, looking, possibly, the happiest I've ever seen him. Bruce giggled too. A tiny bit.
"Friday, order the biggest, most expensive chocolate cake that can be delivered in... Two hours," Tony immediately spoke up.
"Cake," I mumbled happily, a strange drowsiness overcoming me, making my eyelids droop. "Hey-mmm, doc?" I slurred, seeing Stephen's face fall. "M'think m'concussed, f'king 'ell!" The snort that left his mouth was absolutely hilarious; I started giggling, too, startling Banner into action.
He picked up his phone, saying something I didn't understand at all.
"Y'kno," I had this totally bright idea I absolutely NEEDED to share with everyone. "Y'kinda look like the guy... Wha's'is name... Bendy-snap Crum-ble-sticks? No, wait," Snorts and giggles began to resonate through the room as the amount of Doctor Stranges suddenly multiplied by two. He was a WIZARD, that was so cool! "I think... Mmm, yes... Benadryl-Claritin? No-no-no, 'das meds," Woah, a lot of people were there and they were suddenly all laughing. I wondered what was so funny. It was hard to think with so many people laughing; my temples were pulsating uncomfortably. "Wait, I know, I know!" There were wheezing noises now, noises that distinctively reminded me of Tony and Wanda and Bucky. "Bubble-butt Coitus-snack!" I triumphantly exclaimed, finally happy to have gotten it right.
The laughter turned into truly demonic cackling, surrounding me, they were so loud I almost managed to get fully afraid. And then, I passed the fuck out.
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TAGLIST IS OPEN Y'ALL.
@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem
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thekrazykeke · 4 years
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See You Again [2]
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Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul
Relationship(s): Uta & reader.
Summary: in the sound of silence, we found sanctuary. in every word unspoken, love.
Warning(s): Angst, unspoken feelings. Pre-canon events but also very ambiguous timeline-wise. Disturbing mental imagery. Canon typical gore.
This little series was never meant to have a happy ending, so no screaming at me. I’ll accept your appreciation for my love of angst in reblogs, likes, comments or tears. 
Seriously though, in all honesty, I hurt myself as I wrote this. 
I dunno, I might indulge that impulsive urge of mine and write a one shot where they actually get together. Most likely not though, so no one hold their breath ahahaha.
[i.]
~
A smart person would never have returned to the little out of the way mask shop in the 4th Ward. You’d have chalked up the experience as weird and as common sense dictated, forgotten all about it. 
That is the safer route, the sane option.
So of course, you decided to be stupid. You kept coming back to the shop, although you were careful with how you planned your visits, spacing them out in between sight seeing and being a general tourist. 
The added bonus of your frequent visits being that although Uta’s face didn’t really change much expression-wise, you got the feeling that he was always a little surprised to see you.
“Do you really like it here that much?” 
Pulling the oni mask away from your face, you glanced at Uta who stood a good distance away from you, hand in pocket, hip cocked against the edge of the counter. “What’s that now?”
“I said, ‘do you really like it here that much?’” Uta repeated himself, red on black eyes intently trained on your face. “This is the second time this week you’ve come by without buying anything.”
“Oof.” You exaggeratedly clutched at your chest. “That hurt, Uta-san. With how frequently I come by here, one would think you’d treat me as more than a customer. We’re friends now.”
“We’re not.”
The words are stated so bluntly and again, you clutch at your chest, miming being struck by an arrow. Uta didn’t respond to your joking around and playing, just stared at you. So, you cut the crap, reaching into your back pocket with a mock pout. “How much for this mask? I think it suits me.”
“10504.50 yen.” At the sight of your suddenly wide eyes and dropped jaw, Uta’s blank expression cracked, he smiled slightly and just for a split second. “Also, the mask doesn’t suit you.”
You turned your back to him, carefully returning the oni mask to the display it’d been set up on. The next second you turned around, you nearly jumped out of your skin at how close Uta is now. “Hey now! Shit, you need a bell or something.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t pay attention.” 
You can’t even pull off your comedic routine and drop your head in an ���ashamed’ manner because you’d probably most likely hit your head against his chest, he’s standing that close. Before you could ask him to either back up and inquire what was his reason for being in your personal space, a tattooed finger reached out, lightly touching your chin, encouraging you to look up, so that’s what you did.
“...I can create a mask for you. Something that suits you.” He’s now adjusting your face, the faintest touch causing you to move this way and that. 
“Aww! That’s nice of you, Uta-sa-”
“The base color would be silver, perhaps. And the eyes would sewn shut, the better to hide your grief and... the anger.” He’s musing aloud, words quiet and almost a whisper, but you heard him. Part of you think it’s deliberate, that he’s making fun of you, mocking you.
And it worked. 
You reached a hand up, setting it upon his wrist. Uta blinked, staring down at your hand, then his unique gaze switched to you, and he.... for a lack of better words, it’s like he snapped out of that artist’s mode. He dropped his hand and took one step out of your personal bubble then another and another before whirling around and started walking away. 
He lifted a hand in farewell, waving it about in a sort of shooing manner.
“Come back again in two to three weeks.”
That should have been the end of you and his interactions. 
Regardless of how intriguing he is, he’d pressed on one of your triggers, maybe even on purpose, and you already had too short of a life to put up with the bullshit. Then again, maybe it was for that reason entirely that you decided that you were gonna keep seeing him, even after he finished the mask, to annoy him to death of course.
Until he told you upfront to go away, you wouldn’t. That’s what you decided.
And with that resolution settled in your head, you could go about your business. You enjoyed the sights, the food, and although your judgement said it’d be a bad idea, you had a couple of one night stands. The first is a lawyer that you’re like pretty sure has kids and a wife, and the other is a stressed college kid. 
The experience left you unsatisfied and irritated. 
Since your last encounter with Uta had been...awkward and strained, you decided to bring a peace offering. Cream puffs for yourself with green tea and a cup of black coffee for him. You’d picked up on the fact that he liked the beverage without sugar and cream like the total heathen he is. You idly wondered if he even enjoyed sweet things or maybe he was one of those weird folks who liked sour and spicy stuff all the time.
The fact that you’re even thinking about this and it didn’t sink in as odd or out of place until the moment you crossed the threshold of HYSY Studios, taking note of the fact that the place is as gloomy and empty of customers as always. 
“’Ey! Uta, where you at!?” 
There’s a vibration against your leg. You juggle the items in your hold carefully before tugging out your cellphone and entering the passcode to unlock the phone. The most recent text message you’d received from Uta about four minutes ago informed you of the fact that he’s in the back of the studio, like the very, very back, where all the unused and returned masks were. Now the only reason you knew all this information is because of how often you pestered Uta about it. 
You’re at an impasse. 
You could do as he asked and bring your treat to him while you were at it or you could wait and avoid the potential jump scare that Uta was totally capable of inflicting upon you. 
‘To go or not to go, that is the question.’ 
Everything pointed to the clear conclusion that no, you absolutely should not go back there. Every horror movie cliché ended with the female protagonist being killed or gravely injured because she was so stupid as to go in the dark, alone, by herself. 
‘Uta isn’t a killer though.’ That’s what you tried to tell yourself, the argument weak and pitiful in your brain. 
You did not know this man well enough to be in the back where it wouldn’t be easy access to the front door, where you couldn’t bolt if he did something strange. However, you did own a mini taser and always carried mace, just as a precaution, so... 
So....
Slowly, reluctantly, you did as he instructed, every warning and life training you’d received up to this point in your life sending out red neon signs telling you to wait, not be an idiot, to please please stay where you are. And you ignored all those survival instincts, heading deeper into the studio, your footfalls loud and eerie the further in you went. 
Until you find him. 
He’s apparently unfazed by your belated presence, focus wholly consumed with his work. Red on black eyes glanced at you for but a moment and what you carried and then at the coffee. “There’s a mini fridge, leave everything there, except the coffee. I’m almost done.” 
Having some mild experience with artists and creative sorts, you avoid looking at the mask he’s working on, instead setting down the coffee in an empty space he vaguely gestured to. 
Then you walk the short distance to where the only mini fridge in the room is, reaching out, you pull it open. And it’s the scent that alerts you; the fresh tang of blood. It’s too late to stop yourself and you see it, everything. The jar of eyeballs, the carefully wrapped packages of ‘meat’. 
‘I’m in a back room with the potential copycat Jeffery Dahmer or...or....’ 
You’re not an idiot, all these little things you’d casually dismissed because you hadn’t cared enough to pay attention, to see... And now here you are. Here you are. 
Fuck.
Swallowing, you calm and dampen the inner voice sCREAMING, then casually as possible, grip wobbling only slightly, do you put your treat inside the mini fridge right alongside the human body parts and flesh, then close the door, turning around. 
Uta is still hard at work on the mask but his movements are slowing down.
As if nothing is amiss, you stride over just as he finally pauses to take a sip of coffee. “This is one of the ways that you make masks. Really. That’s interesting…” And you meant it too. Legs crossed, you leaned against the table, watching the mask maker in his element.
He smiles at you in that enigmatic way. “Thank you.” 
The visit continues without much else in the way of incidents and subtly unsubtle revelations. 
You don’t really talk and Uta doesn’t make you. 
Less than twenty minutes later, once he deems the mask complete, he stands up and stretches, arms raising overhead, revealing an expanse of creamy, pale, lean and muscled torso. 
Glancing away a beat too late, you catch Uta as he smiles, again, the smile lengthens into a smirk. He reaches out and plucks up the half mask delicately, taking a step towards you and your heart traitorously lurches in your chest. 
Self-preservation makes you want to run as he comes closer, closer, closer...
Logic keeps you rooted in place as he carefully puts the mask on you. Tattooed fingers brush the strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, lingering as he feels the flutter of your pulse beneath his fingertips. 
“Your heart is racing like a hummingbird.” he muses. You stare out at him from beneath the safety of the mask, the bone surprisingly not pinching or cutting your skin. “And here I thought nothing could scare you.”
“Unfortunately fear makes up the majority of the human psyche.” You can’t help the quip, tone dry. “But you’re my friend, so it’s fine.” 
That last comment causes Uta to blink and stare at you in blatant surprise for a minute or two. Then he pulls himself together and shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. “...I suppose we are friends.”
“Cool. So how much for the mask?” You reach up, about to remove it but Uta swatted at your hands, the action hard enough to sting but not leave damage. You still squawk indignantly anyway.
“It’s free. Creating it got me out of my block, so thank you.” Bringing out a cellphone, he takes a couple pictures with you, making you turn, pose, and pretty much just show off. 
Once he’s done, he snags your tea and cream puffs out the fridge, then walks you to the front of the studio, giving a small wave goodbye. Brain swimming with what you just learned, amazed that he hadn’t just killed you straight off, you glance at the chilled green tea in your hand then after mentally shrugging to yourself, you take a sip and shove a cream puff in your mouth. 
Hell, after the day you’ve had, you deserve to be rewarded.
Time passes, as it inevitably does. 
You receive more calls from Kiani, from other friends and family members, but you are resolute in staying in Japan. 
Much to your surprise, you’d actually gotten comfortable being there. Though that might have had something to do with Uta, who you continue to visit, and if he’s surprised or put out, none of that shows on his face. It’s fun to drag him places, to be around him, and you can laugh at his jokes, even the deadpan, making-fun-of-humanity ones. 
He even lets you meet his other ghoul friends, Itori and Renji. 
Through it all, these changes and fun things, your health slowly, steadily, gets worse even as you and Uta get closer, muddling about in a rather confusing grey area of friends...and more...
As always, the two of you are hanging out, this time you’d dragged him to an amusement park, and he held onto some of the prizes you won, gamely snapped a couple photos of you in ridiculous poses and making silly faces, etc. 
It felt like a date.
Like, you’re returning from a date.
When that thought ran through your brain, you automatically looked at Uta, catching sight of his profile in the light of the setting sun and your heart clenched as you realized that he’s beautiful. 
It’s with difficulty that you manage to look away but not before he catches you staring from the corner of his eye. “You’re always looking at me… Yet, you never try and get closer…” Uta’s hands are in his pockets and he is barely a foot away. “Does fear keep you at a distance…” He took a step forward. 
Coming almost uncomfortably close. 
“Or is there another….” 
Without conscious thought, you tilt your head up and your lips meet his. 
The contact is light, barely a graze, and there’s the cool sensation of his lip ring...it’s odd but hardly distracting. Your heart is beating like a jack rabbit in your chest and you know this isn’t good for you.
 As you go to pull away, to disconnect, that’s when Uta finally, finally, responds.
He places a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close before tilting his head, leaned in and kissed you again. 
There’s nothing teasing or patient about it. He nipped your bottom lip, barely waiting for you to part your lips before his tongue twined and stroked, expertly playing with your own, and you felt a zing of excitement travel down you spine as your tongue lightly grazed his tongue ring. 
Your right hand goes to his shoulder, squeezing, holding on desperately as your legs threaten to give out. 
Effortlessly, Uta holds you up, his other hand going to the dip of your back, and when you break the kiss to get some air into your burning lungs, Uta peppers feather light kisses down the column of your throat, sucking a spot just behind your ear. Only when you gasp his name, a mere whisper of a breath really, only then, does he finally stop.
Uta tops that....bombardment off with a light kiss to your forehead, lingering. Then he murmurs into your ear, “That’s how you kiss me from now on.” 
With his piece said, as if he hadn’t pretty much swept you off your feet and left you stuck in LaLa Land, Uta brushed a hand down his shirt, straightening out imaginary wrinkles, before he walked away. It took a few seconds for your brain to reboot and then you hurried after him, chastising him for being mean.
There are a hundred different words that lingered on the edge and never escape your mouth. A thousand questions you never got the answer to. 
There are no more kisses between you and Uta. 
You pass away in your sleep that night December 31, 2XXX at 11:59 P.M. alone in your rented hotel room, dreaming of an impossible reality; of happiness between yourself and the ghoul who for a brief moment, made you feel important, seen, and desired. 
Almost as if he could love you.
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andytheaverage · 3 years
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The Green Knight (2021)
(CONTAINS SPOILERS)
The Green Knight (2021), with its excellent cast and feast of visual storytelling, does cut a pretty trailer, but it’s hardly the adaptation we’ve all waited nearly 2 years to see. Rather on the slow side, there is plenty of breathing room (often to excess), but often feels wanting. The performances are well-played, albeit terribly subdued, which create interludes that feel tedious. Dev Patel has proven himself time and again that he has the capacity to play a nuanced lead, and he does well here, but it is the side characters that break the monotony and steal the show, most notably Joel Edgerton (Lord), Erin Kellyman (Winifred), and Barry Keoghan (Scavenger). 
David Lowery’s “adaptation” explores the journey of an untested and somewhat undeserving not-quite-Sir Gawain, a far-cry from our Hero in the text, more akin to Prince Hal. This change adds elements to the character with which an audience might more easily identify, and should make this a coming-of-age tale, as well as a moral one; though, this film fails as both. 
As a coming-of-age tale, Gawain never quite gets there, and it almost doesn’t matter if he does, because it's not really his tale at all. Nor is this film about morality, not even as a cautionary tale. Perhaps it's more accurate to call it an instance of ‘careful what you wish for’. Gawain doesn’t seem to know what he wants. Does he really want to be a Knight? Is this about living an honest life or living up to familial expectations, particularly your mother's? Hard to say, as many of the female characters, including Gawain’s mother (Morgause and Morgan Le Fay made one), are treated as mystery elements themselves. It’s also not clear just how far her control extends, if it has any limitations. Is there anything in this world that is true?
Perhaps we'll never know his mother's true intentions; it clearly wasn't for her son to be his own person and make his own decisions. A man simply doesn’t become a Legend without his mother’s entire fabrication of the quest, it would seem. Does Gawain feel so out of place in his own story because it’s already set out for him? Was Morgan Le Fay simply Lowery’s segue for the concept of Legend as a set path for Gawain to follow? But as such, Gawain’s tale of morality isn’t what it seems, as he doesn’t even have the illusion of choice. Or was it all just a journey back to nature, back to green? Lowery never lets us forget just what color matters most here. There’s even a fun monologue about it! Even the design of the Green Knight is just a little too on the nose; his appearance essentially being that of an ent. 
About 2/3 of the way through, The Green Knight actually shows a hint of promise, but it is short-lived. In case you haven’t already lost interest with the lengthy side quests; everything turns sour at the arrival of Lord and Lady Bertilak’s castle (simply titled Lord and Lady), and what should be the bulk of our story, the “exchange of gifts” and Gawain’s true test of morality. The “exchange of gifts” is glossed over for a taste of something completely different, as it takes major liberties with not only a core part of our tale, but arguably what’s most memorable about the original. It becomes Lowery’s convoluted vision of a different sort entirely, one where Gawain seemingly refuses to take part in his own story. While possibly an interesting take in itself, it does a disservice to the text, and accomplishes nothing other than an attempt to be shocking. 
There’s something richer in the “exchange of gifts” simply not explored in Lowery’s version, or the compulsive need to “subvert”, and the film is poorer for it. How can you even subvert something which you refuse to touch upon? It’s also extremely odd and honestly baffling, that in this day and age, homosexual themes and undertones would be downplayed or outright rejected (as they are here), rather than embraced and explored. Altogether, this omission seems a poor choice and a clear indication that Lowery holds little to no affection for the original text. Disregarding the “exchange of gifts”, the journey becomes something vain and hollow; perhaps intentionally, but doesn't serve anyone, least of all the story. 
Following the tale’s example, the girdle (sans the accompanying scar) is the all-encompassing symbol for Gawain’s shame, but Lowery takes it a step further, in which he is so seduced by its promise of protection that he literally soils it with his lust. But this scene is so abrupt at the all too brief “exchange of gifts” (in a film that stretches everything to excess) that it seems to lack consideration and its only purpose is to disturb. The girdle furthermore becomes a symbol of his unearned and unholy life (which we’re shown), were he to continue to fail to accept his fate and his test, although this too seems superfluous. What’s interesting here is that in either scenario, Gawain remains undeserving. He is not especially virtuous, he’s not even decent from what we can see, and has failed in almost every chivalric aspect; after all, he is “no knight”. Even so, in the original, even the Green Knight can’t begrudge his lack of fidelity in this one aspect; “because you wanted to live, so I blame you the less”.
A message of The Green Knight seems to be acting out of selflessness as the only indicator of a truly good deed, with no expectation of reward. This is evident in the dismissal of the “exchange of gifts” and Winifred’s admonishment, "Why would you ever ask me that?", but this message is so muddled within the world of the film, that it’s somehow also completely out of place. After all, Gawain is rewarded in a way, with several of his trappings, which are returned to him after being stolen. Speaking of rewards for good deeds, religious themes are also notably lacking, favoring the pagan angle (as expected of A24), though which is never expounded upon. There is the decision to keep some not-so-subtle imagery of crippled Christianity; i.e Gawain’s shield (with Mary’s visage on the inside and a small pentangle on the exterior) and a cross at the Green Chapel. 
Lowery gets too hung up on a confused mix of vague and painfully obvious ideas of symbolism and makes huge, unwarranted leaps. His work here reeks of self-indulgence, to the point of parody. It’s also simply never clear what anyone’s intentions are, his least of all. His ideas are so flighty and changeable that contradictions abound in the finished product (It’s clear why he needed all that extra time to re-cut). The whole thing is so nebulous that it may fool some into thinking it’s beyond their grasp, but it just reads as pretentious. The thing is, The Green Knight tries to be too many things at once, and in doing so, fails at all of them. Lowery lacks the conviction to support anything he presents and has no sense of narrative structure. Simply put, this film lacked proper direction and would have greatly benefited from fresh eyes on the script.
The Green Knight may question 'What is Honor and if it does exist, what is it worth? For even if there comes a time to prove yourself for Honor’s sake, what is it all for? “Is this all there is?”’, but Lowery drops the concept of Honor as soon as he picks it up and chooses to explore Legacy and Legend, and while it leads us on an interesting journey of interpretation, it’s very heavy-handed. It’s also difficult to answer any of these questions because Gawain is simply not worthy of anything. It’s not just that he is imperfect; he is not good and never acts out of selflessness or for the actual sake of Honor. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. The original text asks us to stay true, true to our word and our values, in uncertainty and despite our fears (as a Good Knight should, and which Gawain ultimately is.) Lowery, on the other hand, begs us to forget the narrative, because he doesn’t know how to do it, and the search for meaning, because there is none. I’m not even sure he knows what he’s made.
Overall, though heavily burdened by its sluggish pace and lack of structural integrity, The Green Knight, at least on the surface, appears to be a somewhat earnest attempt at exploration within the fantasy/horror genre, asking a lot more questions than it answers. But while its visuals may dazzle, it’s a cold and unfeeling thing, devoid of all charm of the original tale, and can hardly be called an adaptation for many of its choices.
Source: https://letterboxd.com/avega007/film/the-green-knight/ 
(I wasn’t expecting to go off when I just got a letterboxd, but this film left me heated.)
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