#The architect absolutely LOVES her since she actually focuses on how much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizacstuff · 3 years

Text

Sen Çal Kapımı ep 48 asks

THE EPISODE WHERE THEY FINALLY GOT MARRIED!!!!!!!

SERKAN AND EDA ARE MARRIED!!

FINALLY!

YES!!!!!!!!!

Okay, now that I got that out of my system, asks under the read more.

andhewonherheart asked: @andhewonherheart I love that Bolat is Aydan’s last name, not Alptekin’s. I know it’s a little of a retcon, but this way we don’t need to worry about Serkan and his family carrying that man’s name. And Aydan would be a woman that strongarms her husband into taking her last name.

I LOVED THIS! I sat up straight when Kemal made the comment about Alptekin taking her name and cheered. Seriously. What a great turn of events. Serkan is so attached to his name, it’s nice that he didn’t have to have an identity crisis over that on top of everything else. And now it’s not weird for Eda and Kiraz to take his name after finding out Kemal is actually his father, which I wanted for them. I wanted them all to be tied together with a name, to have that feeling of belonging. Plus, as you say, it’s nice they don’t have the name of that man.

I will say one thing, though... is it really a retcon? Did they ever say Bolat was Alptekin’s given last name? I don’t think they did (but who knows with the iffy translations we all rely on). I do remember Aydan bragging on the lineage of the Bolats in a very early episode (maybe 2?) and at the time I thought it was odd that she was so proud of the lineage when she just married into it, especially because if memory serves she was sort of heckling Eda, who was marrying a Bolat. Perhaps this was always intended, and we only feel like it’s a retcon because we’re programmed by a patriarchal society to assume a woman always take a man’s last name?

Anonymous asked: I don’t really like the idea of Serkan giving up Art Life. I understand the symbolism of him giving up his work for his family, but I would’ve preferred that he finds a balance, like he did with bringing Kiraz to work. I feel like that would’ve been a more rounded way of approaching his character, instead of swinging him in the other direction, now instead of having only work, he only has his family. When he could have both.

He will have both. Eventually. He’ll figure it out and get back to where he was. He is Serkan Bolat after all. You don’t expect him to sit idle for any length of time, do you?

As much as part of me was just torn up at him selling his stake in the company, I thought it was really beautiful. Sure, balance is good, but this is a man who has ripped out Eda’s heart twice by telling her that work is more important than she is to him. This is a man who left ON HIS WEDDING DAY, who put work first ON HIS WEDDING DAY, who got on a plane ON HIS WEDDING DAY because he tried to balance (do both, go to Italy and get married in one day) and it ended up putting them both through hell and almost ruining both of their lives.

Picture how you would feel if the person you were marrying decided to fly to another country on your wedding day?

So I disagree with you. I’m more than fine with Serkan Bolat unequivocally putting Eda first over his career and company. After everything they’ve been though, and her insecurities in that area, it was incredibly important and now she will never, ever doubt where his heart lies. It’s with her. She (and their family) is his top priority.

Besides, the show started with Serkan having destroyed Eda’s dream of studying to become a landscape architect in Italy, it’s quite poetic that he gave up something substantial so that she could realize a dream of working as a landscape architect on her dream project in Italy.

I’m pretty sure she’ll be more than happy to help rebuild their company. Together.

Anonymous asked: i know you said in your previous ask round-up that as far as the actual proposal goes, nothing would top that speech in 27.. i was wondering how you felt about his speech this episode. sure, it wasn't actually the proposal, more like a "reception" toast, but for me i think it was my favorite speech, or at least top 3, serkan has said to/about eda.. just pure love about their journey together and a huge full circle moment with that video from the pilot episode.

YEEEEEESSSSSS. I so agree with this, and actually thought exactly this while watching. It was a marvelous speech and while, as you say, it was presented as more of a toast, it was really more of a wedding vow.

I loved it. And I’ve rewatched it multiple times and I plan to watch it many times more. As always Kerem and Hande were excellent in the scene. Eda and Serkan were in front of their friends and family, but they were so focused in on one another they might as well have been alone. The emotion was palpable.

She is love. Dang, Serkan! He’s mentioned love at first sight a couple of times, it was nice that in this moment he gave another nod to that.

Loved the call back to the video from the first episode, it worked really well, especially to remind us of how it all started and how she felt like he destroyed her dream. That segued into him mentioned them destroying each other’s dreams. As I said above, quite poetic, especially since he then put his money where his mouth was by the end of the episode and destroyed his dream to preserve hers.

Well done, show.

Anonymous asked: i have loved the tone of this season so much. none of the drama we have is super heavy, outside of the kiraz reveal which was given the angst and importance it should have bc of how it important it was. otherwise, we've had happy (now married!) edser coming back together and now facing trouble and issues as a couple! this was basically all i wanted for them since 28!

Yes, me too. I really enjoy the tone this season. As you say, it’s not super heavy, the melodrama is at a minimum, most things are light and fluffy and even heavy issues are played with a light hand.

For me, I’ve really enjoyed this season and I’m super glad we got it. I think COVID did us one favor by shutting down production when it did and forcing them to reevaluate what they were doing. If they hadn’t I’m guessing the show would have continued in a very messy and directionless manner, with lots of melodrama and storylines that would have been traumatic to watch.

Season 2 has direction and purpose and a plan and once we got past the horrified shock of the time jump and the secret daughter (which I grant you was no small feat) it’s pretty much been trauma free.

Anonymous asked: After watching the episode, I'm lowkey disappointed. we did get Pretty Woman SCK-style. I was promised Serkan as a gigilo and Eda encouraging it!!!!! LOL, jokes aside, I'll never forget the outrage over that fragman over "harassment" or "prostitution" of all things when the actual dinner scene lasted 3 minutes, Eda was being at the hotel the whole time, and the scene where people thought she was encouraging him was about her project. Almost 50 eps and you would ppl would learn how fragmans work.

The fragman was insanely misleading, but lots of them are, so you would think they would have figured it out by now, but nope! A large swath of people really embarrassed themselves with their complete over reaction to something that turned out to be nothing like they thought.

Thankfully Serkan was entirely in the dark about how dire the situation was and why Eda was pushing him to make nice with Deniz, and only humored Deniz very unwillingly and then completely cut ties with her. I think the best part was the least shocking twist ever... that the Serkan staying in her room line was an actual joke on the show. Come on, kids, it was pretty obvious to anyone with a brain that Serkan would never actually consider staying with her, and certainly not just days after he got married. Preposterous!

Having said that, I do agree with people who think that Deniz being obsessed with him to that degree is dumb. There is a thread of misogyny and internalized misogyny (depending on which writers) running through the writing of these female guest characters who come in and absolutely shed all dignity, sanity and common sense when it comes to Serkan. Selin, Balca, the actress and Deniz. Good grief. However, I just don’t care enough to get pissy. If that’s what they’ve come up with to fuel the jealousy trope that apparently is a must for Turkish dizis without having Serkan ever have eyes for anyone but Eda, then so be it.

The formula is more than obvious by now, so I’m not sure why some folks made asses of themselves jumping to other conclusions.

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal kapimi #edser #sckask #asklizac #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #sck 2x48 #anonymous

17 notes · View notes

ts1989fanatic · 4 years

Text

Taylor Swift, Britney Spears and the media cycle that demands pain from our pop stars

Emma Clifton 08:30, Feb 16 2021

Britney Spears was robbed of her public image during the height of her fame. Taylor Swift was robbed of her music during the height of hers.

Why does our pop culture system seem so intent on punishing the very women who keep it afloat. Emma Clifton looks at a decade in young singers – and the variously terrible ways they get treated while in the public eye.

There was a theory floated on the podcast You’re Wrong About that ‘fame is abuse’ and you’d be hard pressed not to agree if you were one of the many people who saw the recent New York Times documentary Framing Britney Spears, and realised just how badly we as a society treated Britney Spears before, during, and after her rise to fame.

The paparazzi, the media, the comedians – and then the fans and look-i-loos who continued to buy all the magazines that ran headlines about what a train-wreck she was, when really she was just someone in her early twenties, trying to raise two children while being one of the most famous – and hounded – people on the planet.

The documentary discussed at length how we as a pop-culture obsessed society love to build up a talented, attractive young woman and then buy popcorn in preparation of when we can gleefully watch them tumble from grace.

(And it’s not just pop stars, of course; the resplendent rise and then the racist fall of Meghan Markle’s position in public opinion is one of the most recent examples we have of when good headlines go bad.)

When I was working at Creme magazine, between 2009 and 2012, our pages were over-flowing with talented young pop singers: Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, The Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato, Rihanna, One Direction, Justin Bieber.

When you look back on the decade that has passed by since, time has not been kind to any of these people.

Either the showbiz demon took something from each of them – or they had to completely disappear from sight for years at a time in order to survive. Sometimes both.

There have been eating disorders, drug overdoses, rehab stints, broken marriages, abusive relationships, chronic illnesses. These kids – and they were kids – were so young when they started, they’re already on their fourth or fifth reinventions.

Most of them haven’t hit 30 yet.

And when you’re a female pop star, so many of these reinventions revolve around your sexuality.

Heck, when I was at Creme, Demi, Selena and Miley were part of the ‘purity ring’ club, where they all gushed about staying away from sex until marriage while their stylists dressed them in the tightest clothes possible.

The message from the marketing teams behind each of them was very clear: Sell sex, but don’t ever enjoy it.

This is the same battle Britney faced a decade previously – look like a Lolita, but make sure you never have sex with your long-term boyfriend because then you’ll be expected to cry about the shame of it on national television.

This was also the time of paparazzi trying to take up-skirt photos (exactly what it sounds like) of female actresses as soon as they turned 18; 18 – the age where you can legally have sex in America – was a big deal in pop culture.

There was a countdown for when the Olsen Twins turned 18. When Lindsay Lohan turned 18, Rolling Stone ran a breast-focused cover shoot with the headline: ‘Hot, ready and LEGAL’. And it was just fine! Totally accepted. These girls, they were always up for it, right?

And then we get to Taylor Swift.

Taylor is re-releasing Love Story, the song that made her famous, the song that I first heard in the shower (yes, I had a shower radio) when I was 20 and immediately started crying, because it hit me square in the middle of my pop culture diagram: love songs and references to Romeo and Juliet.

It’s from her second album, Fearless, which she wrote when she was aged 16-18 and which won her four Grammys, including Album of the Year. It’s also an album that no longer belongs to her and she can no longer perform, due to some millionaire f...wittery committed by her former manager. But we’ll get to that.

From 2008 onwards, Taylor became a big deal for her music and then, like it always does for women, her love life became the centre drama.

She never talked about a purity ring (thank God) and she sung pretty openly about sex from her third album onwards (Sparks Fly, an iconic song), plus she had the audacity to date a bunch of boys and look happy while doing so. Naturally, her punishment awaited.

To this day, she is still ridiculed about lyrics she wrote in her first couple of albums… songs she wrote herself when she was literally a teenager.

If I had had written an album when I was a teenager, it would have been about my crush who caught the bus, Kevin from The Backstreet Boys, worrying about my thighs, and, I don’t know, my cystic acne.

I’m just saying – we let powerful men get away with s... they pulled when they were young with the old line ‘boys will be boys! They were just kids!’; it just never seems that generosity is never extended to young women and their far more harmless explorations of teenage sexuality.

Because she had yet to have a public mental health crisis or rehab stint, it was clear that Taylor was never going to be the architect of her own media downfall.

Luckily, one was invented for her. After a long-lasting stoush with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, where absolutely no-one (including Taylor) came out looking good, Taylor suddenly because persona non grata in pop culture and the long-awaited comeuppance began.

And so, she disappeared – in a way that celebrities can do these days. (As a side note, can you imagine how different Britney Spears’ life might have been if she had been allowed to disappear for a couple of years?)

It was only when she released her documentary Miss Americana on Netflix that the public got what it had been craving the whole time – the dark side of Taylor Swift’s fame.

An eating disorder, a sexual assault that she ended up being sued for and, then, the poisoned cherry on top, losing the rights to all her past music thanks to her old manager.

Finally, our hunger for bad news had been satisfied. We had seen her scars and so we could allow her back into the spotlight again.

It’s been interesting watching the roll-out of new music from so many of these female artists during a pandemic: Selena, Demi, Miley, Ariana Grande are among the singers who have eschewed the normal long roll-out of publicity in order to release their own music, without much of the media fanfare that typically accompanies it.

Taylor herself released two albums, without any of the (slightly inane) games she normally includes in the lead-up. You can’t help but wonder that – stripped of their endless touring, performances and appearances, these female artists have found some freedom in being able to just get back to the actual work.

If a pop star releases an album in the middle of a pandemic and no-one is around to give a shit about any of the outfits she’s wearing, does it still count? Turns out, yes.

Following the betrayal of Britney, Taylor, Miley et al by the media, you can see the slow change to have total ownership of their voice these artists have taken.

Social media can be a devil for many reasons but it has overtaken journalists and publicists as the middle man when it comes to how these women get portrayed to the public. Beyoncé has been instrumental in this – it was she who first released an album overnight back in 2013; a move that came without warning and changed the entire industry forever.

She who stopped giving interviews almost entirely, choosing to use her own platforms to get her message and music across. As a result, she’s never been more powerful and she’s never been more private.

As an explicit ‘F... you’ to the powers-that-be who bought her music from under her, Taylor has announced she will be re-recording all of her old albums.

Stories about millionaires against millionaires rarely draw sympathy from a reader but it does highlight how little actually belongs to the artist at the end of the day.

They can have limited control over their image, their public appearances, their private life, their work and their songs. And these are the success stories – these are the people whose names we know.

You have to hope that anyone young and female entering the music business has their eyes very wide open as to just what can go wrong – and what can go wrong even when everything goes right.

The first album Taylor is re-releasing is Fearless, the album that is the most chock-a-block with fairy-tale imagery and glittery optimism.

She’s promised that the songs will be new interpretations on the old originals and that seems only fair.

You can’t help but think that those fairy-tale songs are going to sound a whole lot different being sung by a 31-year-old who’s been through the public wringer then they were as a wide-eyed 16-year-old, on the cusp of making her dreams come true.

41 notes · View notes

generalfoolish · 3 years

Text

Feel The Heat

Part Three: Architect

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, implied drinking and driving (hey! don't do this!), some making out, mentions of sex but no actual sex, and some trauma reflection.

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Frankie “Fish” Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Summary: Idiocy continues. June and Frankie have a date, and a sleepover.

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for this one in advance. She's not my best. She's also a hundred percent filler. We love her because she's necessary, though. I know it's a little shorter, but I have finals and a million other ideas keeping me from putting the work in. Also, I kind of like where I left it. Feel free to yell at me. Enjoy, anyway 💕

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Four

June took another sip of the wine, she had nearly drained the bottle; and she didn’t even want to know what number beer Frankie was on, but it was good. They had been propped up in the restaurant for long enough that the waiter stopped coming over.

“So what’s Fish about? I’m dying to know.” She asked brazenly, her cheeks tinged pink from the wine, and though her lipstick was long gone, her lips were stained red.

“Ah, I was wondering if you were gonna ask. It’s...not interesting.” He finally said, and they both laughed. “I like to fish, and the spot I go to has a bunch of catfish. I’ve been that way since forever, and in basics the name just stuck. Catfish, that is. The guys shortened it later to just Fish, which is...unfortunate.” June leaned forward on her elbows, and listened. She realized she was in trouble. This man could make anything sound interesting.

“Why’d they need to shorten it? Catfish is pretty easy to say.” She mused, more to herself than him. He took a sip of his beer.

“It was in spec ops, and it was just a mouth full during the shit.” He told her, glancing down. She took the hint.

“Do you eat catfish? I don’t really like it.” She admitted.

“What? No, that can’t be right. It’s great.” He laughed, and took another sip.

“Yeah, great if you love eating a muddy bottom-feeder.” She retorted, rolling her eyes.

“You like shellfish? Lobster? Because, I got news for you.” He said, smirking, and she laughed.

“Can you cook it?”

“Of course, I can.” He scoffed.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to cook some for me.” She teased lightly, the alcohol swimming in her mind.

“No way.” He said flatly. Her face fell, and he continued. “You want to eat it, you gotta catch it first.” She grimaced and shook her head.

“Not so much for fishing.” She explained, dropping her eyes from his gaze.

“What do you do then? Besides, follow my every movement.” He added playfully and she laughed.

“I took up gardening recently.” She reminded him, tilting her wine cup towards him. Samantha wasn’t too far off, he was pretty great.

“It’s a little late in the season, to start.” He told her gently. She squared her shoulders before letting them fall.

“Yeah. I had this great plan, until I thought about it at all. Day drinking has gotten me into more difficult spots though.” She huffed out a laugh. “See, there’s this grumpy farmer I wanted to impress. I wanted to...well, it sounds stupid now, but I wanted to prove that I wasn’t just a pretty face. I was going to bring you something I had grown.” She laughed, and wiped her eyes. “I didn’t think about growing seasons, or the fact that it takes a miserably long time for anything to actually grow.” He laughed with her easily, and she smiled.

“I can’t wait to see what you grow, and I hope you’ll consider me when you have to give most of it away so it doesn’t spoil.” He chuckled, but she could tell he was being earnest.

“I also write.” She blurted out. She was looking to change the subject before it got too deep, before they could get tangled in the implications, and the first thing that came to mind was something she hadn’t told anyone. Ever. The only person who knew she wrote was her publicist, and even she knew June under her pseudonym. She flushed, and tried to backpedal. “I mean it’s not a big deal. It’s really just like not a big deal at all.” He studied her face carefully, before speaking.

“Sounds like not a big deal,” He repeated, each word weighted. “But, if you ever want to tell me about it, I would love to hear.” He smiled and leveled his gaze at hers. She felt incredibly stupid for even bringing it up, but he had managed to give her a graceful out. She wondered if she shouldn’t tell him. She had no idea if this was even a date anymore, and she wanted the weight off her chest. She squared her shoulders again.

“Okay, you drug it out of me,” she laughed, and downed her glass. “I am a published author and no one in my real life knows.” She didn’t follow up. Her words hung in the air, heavy and bloated, before he cleared his throat.

“Why would you share that with me?” The confusion was apparent on his face, and it wasn’t what she was expecting. He looked incredibly touched at the gesture, as if she had just given him access to her most intimate secrets. She paused, and realized dumbly that she had. She had absolutely just revealed to him what might be her darkest secret; and as tame as it was, it was hers.

“I don’t really know.” She said flatly. She felt odd though, as she didn’t regret it. In fact, she felt relieved. “It feels good though.” She assured him.

“What have you published?”

“A half dozen novels about cowboys.” She told him, lamely.

“Cowboys?” He asked with a smile dancing on his lips.

“Cowboys.” She repeated with her own coy smile. “It’s a series, and it is not popular. But, I love it, actually.” She continued, a little bashful. “I lost money the first few years, but sales are actually picking up. I’ll never make my living that way, but I love it just the same.” Her cheeks were blazing hot, and she finished in a whisper. He nodded, feeling that much closer to her.

The waiter came over to tell them that they should leave, and the pair laughed at how long they’d been sitting and talking. June was disappointed to bring the night to a close, but knew she had class in the morning. Frankie walked her to her car, and leaned heavily against it.

“You going to be alright to drive home?” She asked, watching him sway slightly.

“No.” He told her flatly, a chuckle following. “I’ll get a cab.” She rolled her eyes.

“How old are you? Get in, I’ll take you home.” She told him, pulling him around to the passenger side. He fought her a little.

“I’m out of the way, I don’t want you to have to back track.”

“Fine, we can go back to mine, and in the morning I’ll drop you by your truck. This is on my way.” The proposition was out in the world before she considered it. The words were hanging between them before she had a chance to worry the details out. It seemed simple enough, but the implications went deeper than she was ready to admit. Her worries were confirmed when she heard him suck in a sharp breath.

“I’d hate to impose…” He trailed, but she was already unlocking her car and shoving him in.

~~~

“Of course, I’ll take the couch, you’re my guest.” She told him, huffing in finality. He crossed his arms. Frankie had only barely agreed to the sleepover; he wasn’t getting bullied in the sleeping arrangement.

“No way. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own home.”

“The couch is comfy, though. I slept there last night.”

“All the more reason you should get a proper night’s rest in your bed.” They glared at each other, and Frankie won. Or, so he thought.

“Fine. We’ll both sleep on the couch.” His laugh was sharp and loud, ripped out without warning. He wasn’t sure if it was the booze, but everything June had said had warmed his insides.

“That’s reasonable.” He agreed, and without thinking too much about the movement, he pulled her to the couch with him. He had meant for it to be smooth, and maybe a little romantic. Instead, it was messy and tangled, but when she landed face to face with him it was hard to argue his methods. He felt her breath on his lips, and he leaned forward, testing the waters, and skimmed his lips against hers. She responded in kind, pressing her lips to his with more urgency.

Frankie shifted June so that he was seated and she was straddling him. He pushed back into her kiss, and deepened it slightly. He ran his tongue against her lips, and when she parted them, he slipped his tongue in, tasting and exploring inside her mouth. He licked under her tongue, sucking it slightly, and managed to pull a soft moan from her. He pulled back for air, and noted how her pupils were blown black with lust, her bright eyes darkened. He wondered for a second if his own were so dark, and then she was on him again. She kissed and licked down his jaw and neck, before focusing on his ear. She nibbled the lobe, licked and sucked the sensitive skin around it.

When she pulled away, he almost whined at the loss. She was panting a little, and already swinging her leg off of him. He frowned at her movements, but didn't stop them. She sat heavily beside him, and pecked his cheek.

"Not that I don't want to continue...I just don't think it's a great idea. We've both been drinking, and it's a school night." The realization hit her like a brick wall. "Crap! Frankie! Do you need to get home to Liv?" He chuckled in response, which let her calm down a bit.

“No, she’s at a friend’s house tonight.” June breathed a sigh of relief, and Frankie felt his lips tug up. “Thanks for checking, though.” She nodded, and he just waited, not sure what she wanted next. He hoped it was more than making out. She cleared her throat and faced him, and he felt his smile fall. She looked too serious for anything light., and he braced for impact.

“The way I see it, Frankie, is we have two options here. One, we go upstairs, and I fuck you out of my system.” He inhaled sharply, and swallowed heavily. He could have laughed, if he wasn’t so shocked. “Option two, I go upstairs, alone, and tomorrow I take you to your truck. After that, maybe we can have another dinner...or maybe I’ll go fishing with you.” He did chuckle at her scrunched up face, this time. He considered her options for a moment.

“Why not a third, where both options play out?” He was teasing, mostly. Mostly, he assured himself.

“Well, that doesn’t work for me. I have had too many option three relationships take a nosedive, and I want to give this a chance. But, if you’re not interested in seeing where we could go, then let’s get on with the fun part.” He studied her face, etching every crinkle and freckle to memory. It was so intimate, he realized, being this close without touching. He wanted to take her upstairs. He didn’t really want to even take her upstairs, the couch was fine. She had been burning him since they had met, and he had had every opportunity to reach out and extinguish it. He hadn’t, and he knew why. He knew they could have something here. He had just spent hours with her, and he was already missing her presence. It wasn’t a choice he had to think hard about. He wanted to see her again. But, he wanted her tonight.

He leaned in and kissed her lips gently, pulling away before it could turn into anything more.

“Option two, please.” He noticed her eyes light up, but restrained himself. He could just kiss her all night, if she’d let him. He watched her leave the couch and disappear into another room. He took the opportunity to steady his breathing, and hopefully, calm himself down. She returned with an armful of blankets and pillows. He took them from her, and she stepped away, putting more distance between them than necessary.

“I have some old pajama shorts and a t-shirt from an ex, if you would like something more comfy to sleep in.” She offered, tossing a thumb behind her. He nodded as he made up the couch, not watching her disappear upstairs. She came back quickly and handed them off. He tried not to imagine who had left these behind, which option they had picked.

“Goodnight, Frankie. Kitchen is that way if you need water or anything. Bathroom is there, and I apologize for not having more sleepover supplies, it’s been...awhile.” She apologized, laughing. He waved her off.

“Goodnight, Ms. Collins. Sweet dreams.” He watched her retreat slowly upstairs before turning back to the couch. He was in trouble.

~~~

June tossed for a few hours before relenting. She’d never get to sleep otherwise, she told herself as she slipped her hand beneath her cotton shorts. No, she was too worked up, she reasoned as she made contact with her clit. She came hard in only a few minutes, thinking about how hard Frankie had been against her on the couch. She had been frantic, trying to slow them down, for her own sake. She was already falling hard for him; she didn’t need amazing sex to be the last nail in her coffin. She felt like she knew him, intimately, already. It was ridiculous, she kept reminding herself. It was someone who she had only met less than a week ago. She shouldn’t have invited him into her house. She didn’t need to see him in the morning light to confirm her fears. She had moaned his name into her pillow as she came; no, she knew just what she was in for.

She groaned as she remembered what she had said. “Fuck you out of my system?” She whispered again in the dark, cringing. Who was she? She didn’t talk like that. She taught six year olds. She tried to breathe deeply, and not go into a full-blown panic attack. How had she never gotten any better at flirting? She was grown, she could hook up and still have a relationship.

June squeezed her eyes shut against the memories threatening to crowd her, and reasoned she had made the better choice. They had been drinking, and it was too convenient. Hopefully, he didn’t think she was a psycho for inviting him over, making out with him hard, and then turning him down cold. Well, not cold, but lukewarm. She groaned again. Why was she acting like a teenager? She never fretted like this. Her mom’s cold words flashed in her mind, and she shuddered against them, willing them away. Too late, she thought about Terry.

Terrance, the one who had convinced her to move away from everyone. The one who had promised her everything, and then left her empty. The one who had no kind words or touches for her. The one who had left the taste of rust in her mouth.

She blinked against the tears, and tried to think about Frankie downstairs instead. All she could remember was the gruffness at the farmer’s market, the harsh words at the school, the disappointment in his eyes at dinner, and the coldness after she had turned down sex. She hugged herself tighter and tried to think about the soft touches he had given, the tender kiss, the personal stories, and the deep laugh she was falling in love with.

It was no use, she decided. Mid-spiral, she wasn’t good enough for anyone. She was glad she hadn’t invited him up. She was glad she wouldn’t be used by another man. She would drop him off in the morning, and then that would be that. If she didn’t start loving herself, no one would.

~~~

Frankie stretched against the soft material as light started trickling in through the blinds. He could hear the birds outside, and he whistled softly in tune. He folded the bedding, and padded to the kitchen.

After looking around a bit, he settled on coffee and pancakes. He had noticed the canned tomatoes in the cupboard, and made a note to ask June if they were the ones she had bought from him. He got busy mixing the pancakes together while the coffee brewed. He hadn’t slept so good in years. He had expected a sore back, at least, but that damn couch was probably better than his lumpy old mattress. He cut some berries up, while the pancakes were frying, and smiled as he heard June walk in.

“Morning!” He greeted, cheerfully. She winced, and he let a small chuckle out. “Sorry, uhm, coffee’s ready.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He turned back to the oven, wondering if she just wasn’t a morning person. He noticed she felt colder this morning, and hoped it was because she was hungover.

“You were right about the couch, super comfortable.” He told her as she settled in at the counter. She only nodded, which he barely caught. He turned to face her, one hand on his hip and the other holding the spatula.

“Everything okay?” She nodded again, and he frowned. Something was definitely wrong, but if she wasn’t telling him what could he do. He made her a plate of pancakes and berries, and made one for himself. He sat down beside her, and she ate in silence. In fact, she didn’t say anything to him until they made it back to his truck.

“Have a nice day.” She had mumbled, her lips tight. He gaped a bit before getting out, and slamming the door a little harder than he had meant to. He got into his truck as she sped off, and he slammed the door.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked the steering wheel.

“Whatever,” He said, tightly, throwing the truck into drive.

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #Pedro pascal characters #Frankie morales x oc #Frankie Morales x fem!#juniper collins #triple frontier fanfiction

18 notes · View notes

bonvoyagenoona · 3 years

Note

i can’t believe you’re actually interested in checking the chicklit out, i was actually half expecting you to politely decline 😆😆 so thank you very much for being interested!!

regarding plot points and characterizations that i’d like to point out:

(warning: SO MUCH SPOILER and incoherent rambling ahead so please don’t judge 😂😂)

1.) the book mainly focuses on the female lead (that we’re going to refer to as Lexi for the rest of this ask since that’s her name in the book)’s characterization and missing life trajectory, not so much the romance.

2.) i mean, the romance is still there, but i do however feel like we’re not given much about the male lead (that we’re going to refer to as the architect for the rest of this ask) aside from the fact that he: has got a dry humor, tells it how it is, doesn’t give a single fuck about anything but Lexi and architecture, is sexy (hence me saying that’s yoongi lmao)—which is fair bc the book is told from Lexi’s POV and it’s first person too, no less, so we only get scenes of him when she interacts with him.

3.) i guess what im trying to say is that i actually don’t mind how the romance is done in this book despite the infidelity (mind you i do NOT condone infidelity but like i said before, the infidelity is justified… somewhat) because i have to admit that the architect is kind of irresistible and there’s this one scene of them in the second half of the book where Lexi finds out just how much she loved him before she lost her memory—but i just wish we got to know more about the architect, and how the romance blooms between him and Lexi before AND after the amnesia. (but miss cheryl, please know that this isn’t me trying to dictate you what to write!! you can do whatever you want with your yoongi AU of this!!)

4.) i have to admit that im a sucker for amnesia AUs hence me having picked this book up in the first place. but what i really like about the book is the main essence of it.

allow me to show it to you in the form of an excerpt taken from the book:

““One day, really early on, when we were still just friends, it all came out. The whole story. How that day changed your life. How you took on your family's debt, booked a cosmetic dentistry appointment the next day, went on a crash diet, decided to change everything about yourself. Then you went on TV, and everything became even more extreme. You rocketed up the career ladder. You met Eric, and he seemed like the answer. He was solid, rich, stable. A million miles away from..." he breaks off into silence.

"My dad," I say eventually.

"I'm no psychologist. But I would guess."

There's silence. I watch a small plane heading higher and higher into the sky, leaving a double trail of white smoke.

"You know, when I woke up, I thought I'd landed the dream life," I say slowly. "I thought I was Cinderella. I was better than Cinderella. I thought I must be the happiest girl in the world..." I break off as Jon shakes his head.

"You were living your whole life under a strain. You went too far too soon; you didn't know how to handle it; you made mistakes." He hesitates. "You alienated your friends—you found that the hardest of all."

"But I don't understand," I say helplessly. "I don't understand why I became a bitch."

"You didn't mean to. Lexi, give yourself a break. You were thrust into this boss position. You had a big department to run, you wanted to impress senior management—not be accused of favoritism... and you floundered. You did some things the wrong way. Then you felt trapped. You'd built up this tough persona. It was part of your success."”

oh, look. you don’t have to read the whole book to find out what it’s all about because i basically just spoiled the whole of it to you 😂😂😂

but yeah. although i DO have to mention that there are elements of this book that we could absolutely have done away with (this book was written by a white woman and published way back in 2008), but overall i quite like the book.

LET ME REITERATE THIS TO YOU ONCE AGAIN, MISS CHERYL: THIS IS NOT ME DICTATING YOU WHAT TO WRITE. THIS IS ME MERELY GIVING YOU THE MOTIVATION BEHIND ME SUGGESTING A YOONGI AU OF THIS BOOK TO YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE, BUT YOU ARE THE WRITER—YOU DECIDE WHAT TO WRITE AND HOW TO WRITE IT. IF ANYTHING—IF YOU DECIDE TO GO COMPLETELY OFF COURSE OF THIS BOOK THAT ITS BASICALLY AN ENTIRELY NEW STORY? BE MY GUEST!!! JUST AS LONG AS THE OC ENDS UP TOGETHER WITH YOONGI AT THE END LOLOLOLOLOL 😂😂😂😂😂

Ahh, thanks so much for the context and info! I'll check it out and see what pulls me in! Just as a heads-up, I don't really have any set timelines at the moment, and I have a few works in progress, so I don't have an estimate on when I might possibly be able to get this to you.

But!

I absolutely love how much you enjoy this story, and I'm so thankful you shared it with me! The way you shared the idea was intriguing, too. I'm so curious about what happened with Lexi. I'm quite excited to start imagining Yoongi in the architect's / Jon's place. I'm also interested in trying something new as a writer!

Though I pull influence from so much of what I read and watch, I do tend to develop and write my own stories. So, the approach I envision myself taking here would be one where I put my own spin on things. Nevertheless, I do love a Yoongi happy ending! (all kinds 😏)

I hope this is OK, but I've tagged your asks with 📚 Chicklit Anon to make sure I don't lose track of our conversation! Let me know if you'd prefer me to structure my communication with you another way, and I'd be happy to oblige 💜

Thanks for sharing, and I'll keep you posted!

#asks #your asks #📚 chicklit anon #thanks again for sharing and excited to dig in!#📚chicklitanon

1 note · View note

thecassadilla · 4 years

Text

Written in the Stars - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,328/AO3

Pairing: Kristanna

Love During Lockdown Series: Serendipity (Prologue)

Summary: Figuring out how to go on an in-person date during a time of social distancing would be a challenge for anyone. Luckily, it comes easy to Anna and Kristoff, who find a creative way to spend some time with each other amidst a pandemic.

Author’s Note: Well, I’m back again. If you remember, a few weeks back, I wrote a one-shot about Anna and Kristoff meeting during the pandemic because their deliveries got sent to each other’s addresses by mistake. I added that it had the possibility of being expanded, and ta-da! I’ve linked that fic above. I highly recommend reading that fic before this one, but you do you. I can’t believe I followed through, for the first time ever. This was interesting to write because, well, I had to imagine what an appropriate, in-person date would be like right now. This is going to be three or so chapters, but again, has the possibility of being expanded upon! I hope you enjoy it!

In the days immediately following their initial conversation, Anna found herself carrying her phone everywhere with her. She didn’t want to miss out on a single text from Kristoff. They hadn’t had much contact in the week since their chat - from what she had gathered about him, he definitely seemed to be on the shyer side; despite this, and the pandemic that was practically prohibiting them from meeting in person, she was hopeful that everything would work out and they would have a real opportunity to talk. There was just something about him and their interaction that was different, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

Suffice to say, when he called her out of the blue on Saturday afternoon, just over a week since they’d met for the first time, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

“Hello?” She answered, breathlessly.

“Hey,” he responded, and she could tell from the tone of his voice that he was smiling. “How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright, thanks for asking. Uh, so I know this is going to sound kind of weird, but I haven’t started my car in almost a month and I’m kind of worried that the battery is going to die,” he explained. “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a car ride in a little while? I know it’s short notice and it would be bad social distancing, but -”

“Absolutely,” she cut him off, sounding a little too eager. “I can wear a mask if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No - I mean, you can bring it. I’m going to bring one, too, but you said you haven’t left your apartment in a while, right?”

“I haven’t left in almost two months,” she answered.

“Same here, so I think it would be safe? As long as we’re in the car, and you’re okay with it?”

“I’m totally fine with that,” she said, again fearing that she was going to come off as desperate.

“And...if you want, we can get take-out or stop by a drive-through or something? I know it’s kind of inappropriate, and ideally we’d be going to a sit-down restaurant, but...you know.”

“That would be wonderful,” she assured him. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was worried about not impressing her, because it sure sounded like he was asking her on a first date. The situation they were in was certainly not his fault, though, and the fact that he was still trying regardless of that made her weak in the knees. “What time were you thinking?”

“Um, an hour or so? Or we can meet up later if that’s too soon?”

“No, that’s perfect. I’m dying to get out of this apartment and see a person other than my sister,” she giggled.

“Oh!” He said, sounding a little surprised. “Me too, except with my roommate.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, smiling. “Where should we meet?”

“By the entrance to the building?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll see you in an hour!”

“See you then,” he said, before hanging up the phone.

She was so excited that she wanted to scream. She immediately jumped off the bed and began to tear her room to shreds - she wanted to wear something that was cute but appropriate. She also didn’t want to have to explain why she was wearing a fancy dress to Elsa. After way too much time deliberating, she finally settled on a light blue romper with spaghetti straps and a pair of sandals. She didn't have enough time for a full face of makeup, so she settled on mascara and lipstick, hoping that he wouldn’t notice. Her hair hung down in loose waves cascading down her back, and she mentally applauded herself for taking a shower that morning. When the hour was about to draw to a close, she placed the mask over her face, grabbed her purse and cell phone, and excitedly bounded out of her bedroom.

She paused in front of Elsa’s door, knocking a few times with no answer. She peeked inside, and was thrilled to see that her sister was taking a nap and could not protest her departure. She decided that a text message would be appropriate, and gently closed the door to her room before practically skipping out of the apartment. As soon as she opened the door, a blast of hot air hit her in the face and she was immensely grateful that they were going to be sitting in an air conditioned car instead of going on a walk. Before she walked downstairs, she sent the text message to Elsa and shoved her phone into her purse - if she could help it, she wanted to keep it there the entire time they were together.

When she finally reached the entrance to their building, she could hardly contain her excitement. So much so that when Kristoff emerged from inside, she found herself approaching him with her arms wide open before she realized what she was doing.

“Oops, sorry,” she said, lowering her arms. “I always hug people after when I haven’t seen them for a while, but I guess we don’t live in that world anymore. Hi, by the way.”

Although she couldn’t see his mouth, she could tell from his eyes that he was smiling. She couldn’t help but notice how good he looked; he was dressed casually like her, wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt, but it suited him so well that she nearly found herself drooling.

“Hi,” he said back, his eyes still sparkling. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been doing as well as I can,” she answered. “I feel like I’m starting to lose my mind, though.”

“I feel the same way,” he chuckled, slowly starting to walk toward the parking lot. “I’m glad to be getting out for a little while. You look great, though; quarantine must be treating you well.”

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, walking alongside him. “You look great, too. And I feel the same way; my sister is starting to drive me up a wall.”

“It’s just you and her up there?”

“So it’s a little complicated, actually. She doesn’t actually live here,” she explained. “I had two roommates.”

“What happened with that?”

“One of them broke his lease, because his internship ended abruptly due to the pandemic, so he had to go back to live with his parents. And my other roommate has been quarantining with her boyfriend, but she took almost all of her stuff with her and she’s not answering my messages, so I actually don’t know if she’s coming back.”

“I don’t mean to cut you off, but this is me,” he said, motioning to a grey SUV. He unlocked it, and they each went to their respective sides. It was blazingly hot inside, as expected, and he put his keys in the ignition. “I’m honestly relieved that it started and I’m really sorry that it’s so hot in here, but it should cool off in a few minutes. You were saying?”

She pulled off her mask and he followed shortly after. “Yeah, so, my sister came to visit, like, a week before everything shut down and then she just refused to leave. It worked out since my other roommate moved out, but she’s driving me crazy.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking over at her.

She slid the seatbelt over her shoulder and buckled it in. Cool air started seeping out of the vents, offering relief from the suffocating heat. “It’s not the worst thing in the world, but her anxiety is basically out of control. She’s a touch agoraphobic in general, and this is just making it worse.”

“That has to be really rough,” he responded, shifting the car into drive and slowly pulling out of the spot. “I mean, my roommate just sits around and plays video games all day, so I kind of lucked out in that regard.”

“I would do literally anything for her, but I definitely miss having a little freedom; she doesn’t even want me to go on walks, or anything,” she said, shaking her head. “Luckily, she hates Florida, so I think she’ll try to go home as soon as it’s safe.”

“Are you from Florida?”

She glanced out the window, admiring the clear blue sky and the palm trees. She had almost forgotten what the outside world looked like. “No, I’m actually from upstate New York.”

“Get out of here, so am I,” he said, excitedly. “What part are you from?”

Her face lit up. “Arendelle, it’s a small town near Saratoga Springs.”

“I grew up, like, half an hour from there. Near Broadalbin, in Fulton County.”

“No way! It’s such a small world,” she laughed. “What brought you here?”

“I’ve lived in Florida for a few years now,” he explained, focusing on the road. “I came down here for school. I’m becoming an architect, and I needed an internship, and that led me to this part of the state a couple of months ago. Unfortunately, it kind of got put on hold due to the pandemic.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she frowned. “I don’t know much about architecture, but it seems really cool.”

“It is,” he grinned. “But it’s a lot to talk about and I don’t want to bore you. What about you?”

“I doubt you would bore me, but to answer your question, I needed a change. I came out here for school, too, and loved it so much that I dreaded going home during breaks. So I got a job and found an apartment, and now I live here.”

“What did you major in?”

“I’m still working on my Bachelor’s, but elementary education. One semester to go.”

“You must love kids,” he assumed.

She nodded. “I do, I really do. I had a lot of amazing teachers, and I hope that one day I can leave an impact on someone in the same way my teachers left one on me.”

“Wow, that’s really thoughtful of you.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “I’m really looking forward to having my own classroom, someday.”

He found himself smiling at the sincerity of her response, but before he could say anything, she had already moved onto the next topic.

“What do you do for work?”

“Well, the internship was my job, for the time being. I quit my job as a waiter for the internship, so I’m currently unemployed.”

She nodded fervently. “Same here - I had a part-time front desk job, and the office had to close, so I got laid off.”

“This whole situation is just awful,” he responded, shaking his head. “To get back onto a happier subject - what do you love most about living here?”

“The weather,” she cooed. “I love the warmth and the sunshine. No snow or shoveling to worry about in this state.”

“That’s the one thing that I dislike about living here,” he remarked. “I kind of miss having four seasons. Oh, and I never want to be referred to as ‘Florida Man.’”

She burst out laughing, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. “Oh my god, stop.”

“I’m serious! There are so many negative connotations,” he laughed.

“Yeah, but you’d have to do something dumb, like, stick your foot in a gator’s mouth to earn that title.”

“I don’t know, I feel like they’re handing it out willy nilly these days; any man who lives in Florida is officially a Florida Man,” he smiled, shaking his head. “In all seriousness, though, I do hope to move back to New York, someday.”

“I think I do, too. The distance has helped my sister and I grow as individuals, but I’d like to live closer to her. Not anytime soon, though.”

“I get that,” he nodded.

“So, what’ve you been doing to pass the time?”

He sighed. “I’ve been doing school stuff, mostly, but now that the semester is over, I’ve been watching stuff on Netflix.”

“Ooh, what have you been watching?” She asked, turning her body so she was facing him.

“Whatever gets recommended to me, honestly. I watched Tiger King -”

“Oh my god, me too! What a train wreck!” She exclaimed, before bringing both of her hands up to cover her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I totally cut you off just then.”

“It’s fine,” he said, glancing over at her. “I kept expecting it to get better, but it just kept getting worse and worse. Other than that, I’ve been watching a mixed bag of stuff. The Office, Parks and Rec, et cetera.”

“Literally, same,” she laughed. “I’ve been watching a lot of YouTube, too, because it’s interesting to see what other people are doing during quarantine.”

“Good point,” he agreed. “I haven’t even thought about how other people have been coping.”

“Almost everyone I watch has been doing the same stuff I see everyone on social media doing. Baking bread, renovating their houses, watching television. I appreciate people who are putting out unique content.”

“I’ll have to get on YouTube one of these days,” he stated. “What are you looking forward to most when all of this is over?”

“Gosh, I don’t even know,” she gushed. “Everything - I want to eat in a restaurant, again. And go back to Disney World, and to the beach.”

“You know, I’ve never been to Disney World.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he smirked.

“No way! We’ll have to go when it opens!” She declared, and then quickly backtracked a step, worrying that she was too forward. “Only if you want to, though.”

“I’m not opposed to going,” he chuckled. “It was just never high enough on my priorities list. I was actually supposed to go back in March, but then they closed. I’d love to go with you when they reopen.”

“Stop, I’m literally so excited now,” she said, unable to control her smile. “I’m not in a crazy rush to run there as soon as they reopen, but I literally cannot wait now.”

His lips curved upwards as well. “Me too.”

“How about you? What are you looking forward to?”

“Well, aside from going to Disney World, probably just things going back to normal. I miss simple things like going to the grocery store.”

“Do you like cooking?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I do. That’s another thing that I’ve been doing - practicing my cooking skills. You?”

“God, no. I love eating but I’m an awful cook,” she laughed. “I know how to make some really basic stuff, but I have a knack for burning everything. I’d say that I’m a better baker, but I don't think boxed mixes count.”

“At least you try. I’m pretty sure my roommate would live on microwaveable food and take-out if I didn’t live with him.”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “My sister is no better, but we get by.”

“I’ll have to send some food up to you sometime; can’t have you two starving,” he winked.

“Stop, you’re too sweet,” she gushed. “I would love that, though. My sister on the other hand…”

He glanced over at her. “I notice that you talk about her a lot. Is it just the two of you?”

She paused for a moment before answering. “Yeah, it’s just me and her. Our parents passed away a few years ago, and we don’t have any other family.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry to hear that,” he frowned. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s okay; I’m actually kind of glad you asked,” she said quietly, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers. “My sister and I don’t talk about them, really.”

He raised his eyebrows. “How come? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She shook her head. “Well, my sister had a lot of anxiety issues as a kid, and she became very closed off. They were concerned, but they didn’t really do anything to address it and we both suffered as a result. They got into the accident when I was fifteen, and she was eighteen so she became my guardian, but it was like I was living with a stranger at first. We got better, eventually, but she was a little overbearing and I needed my own space and that was when I moved down here for school. We just don’t bring them up, now. They weren’t bad people or anything, it’s just hard to talk about.”

He nodded along with her as she spoke, acknowledging what she was saying. “I get that. I’m really sorry that that happened, but I have to say - you’re incredibly brave.”

“Thank you,” she looked up at him and gave him a sad smile. “What about your family?”

“I was a foster kid who got bounced around, so I don’t really have a family. I’m still in touch with the family I was with the longest, but it took two other families to get to them.”

She gasped. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been so hard.”

“Well, a lot of good came out of it. It made me want to work harder, for one, but it also made me realize what type of person I want to be and what type of life I want to live.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Well, I want to have a family of my own someday. I just...want to be present for the people in my life.”

“That’s really amazing. You’re also incredibly brave,” she remarked, repeating what he’d just said to her.

“I guess we have a lot in common, then.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his arm. She hesitated, though. “You can say that again. But it’s a good thing, I think. Not to wax poetic, but we wouldn’t be here right now if all of those horrible things didn’t happen to us.”

“Very true,” he agreed. He pulled into a gas station, stopping the car at one of the pumps and turning off the engine. “Sorry, I just want to fill up my tank so we don’t break down somewhere.”

“No need to apologize,” she insisted, as he climbed out of the car and started fiddling with the pump. She was completely overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. This was easily the best date she’d ever been on, and she was hopeful that he felt the same way and that there would be many more dates in the future. Though it was a bit of an annoyance at the time, she was eternally grateful for the delivery drivers who’d messed up their deliveries.

“Alright, we’re good,” he announced, as he climbed back in and started the ignition again.

“Do you want money for gas?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “Where to next?”

She shrugged. “You’re the driver.”

“Are you hungry? We could stop somewhere and eat,” he offered.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“What’re you in the mood for? I know there aren’t too many practical options for eating in a car.”

“We could stop at that McDonald’s that was just down the street.”

“Alright,” he said, pulling away from the gas station. “I have nothing against McDonald’s, but if the circumstances were different, I would’ve preferred to take you somewhere much nicer.”

“I know,” she smiled. “But I’m not, like, disappointed or anything. I’m honestly having a great time.”

“Me too,” he responded softly. “I’ve really been enjoying talking to you.”

“I’m really glad that we’re on the same page. Also, I haven’t had McDonald’s in at least a year, so I’m super excited about that.”

“Is that why you suggested it?”

“Maybe,” she smirked. “But also because it’s close by and we don’t have to get out of the car.”

“If that's what you want, then I’m happy to take you there, but don’t worry about the distance. I don’t mind going somewhere else if -”

She interjected before he could finish his thought. “Nope, McDonald’s is great.”

“Alright,” he laughed. “Then to McDonald’s we go.”

#kristanna #kristanna fanfic #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my first multi chapter fic in years #this quarantine is doing something to me #my writing

26 notes · View notes

cohentm · 4 years

Text

✮ ∷ ╰ 𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 .

I FEEL LIKE i just ran away from home and then realized i’m five and, unfortunately, cannot survive without my parents. LMDFLKDFGM i missed u all and had to return… we hate to see it. anyway! whew. i figured i’d post a refreshed lil intro for cohen to make sure i hit on some key changes before i hop back into the game! the most important / group-related part is right at the top, so if u read nothing else, read that! ily all and i’m excited to jump back in like i never left. i’ll be sliding in dms and makin’ starters asap, so if u wanna make some connection changes my door’s always open! x

✮ ∷ ╰ 𝖈𝖔𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖆 : 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

cohen currently lives in a glorified, raggedy frat-esque house ( he is NOT a fratboy but he might as well be huh ) of his own right off campus, about a five minute drive / ten minute walk from the stadium ( it’s about four bedrooms large with three bathrooms, all on one floor. think david dobrik’s house–click here to see–except much uglier and CHEAP MVDFLG ).

he’s fiscally very protective of his savings. he’s been working since he was 12 with his dad, and never ever spent his money, despite some repetitive near-misses where his parents tried ( and failed, bc cohen’s slick ) to steal money from him. basically he now pays for his share of the house using the money he saves/has always saved working for factories, farms, & fixing people’s junk cars.

his only current roommate is foster, meaning he has two spare rooms he’s not really doing anything with. beer pong table’s outside, the kitchen is the alcohol hot spot, there’s a pool table instead of a dining room table, u know how it goes.

regardless, he throws open invite house parties literally every weekend. they take place every friday night up until the sun rises on sunday morning–whether he’s around the house for all of five seconds or all night doesn’t matter, because they’re always a-go.

you’re all 100% free to use his house entirely at your leisure for character fun / development / a place for ur thread to take place / etc! you don’t even need to get my okay beforehand! just do it! think of it as a known dillon fact that cohen’s having a house party every weekend NFKDFNDFKJG.

no matter who you are, whether cohen likes you or not, he will not care if you show up with some randos or familiar faces and party it out. he’s socially bored 24/7 and full of apathy and alcohol at all times so mans probably will be plastered drunk out doing donuts in the parking lot and fighting someone he doesn’t have beef with anyway. ur muse probably won’t even see him there. LMKGDFLG if you’ve ever seen burlesque? literally him showing up to his OWN house for a visit / to get plastered and then wander off during the weekend party is…. real. so yeah! use his house like it’s ur own. just be out by sunday afternoon bc he likes to pretend none of it ever happened as soon as he wakes up and has to be sober for school. x KMVFBLFG love u all.

✮ ∷ ╰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

tw: eating disorder mentions ( food & lifestyle ), drug addiction / recovery, alcoholism, & mentions of past steroid use.

full name. cohen anthony segura.

aka. co, jet.

character inspiration. adam parrish ( the raven cycle ), vince howard & tim riggins lovechild ( if y’all watched fnl…. let’s cry together ), a much more problematic & asshole-ish david dobrik ( the vlog squad ), nathan scott ( oth ), steven hyde ( that ‘70s show ), emily prentiss & aaron hotchner lovechild ( criminal minds ), & noel miller ( tmg ).

age & d.o.b. twenty-two. birthdate tbd.

zodiac. virgo sun, aries moon, & aquarius rising.

pronouns. he / him.

orientation. openly bisexual.

this has never presented as too large of an issue for cohen, despite living in dillon. he isn’t afraid of being talked about, and has a history of making sure people know he can hold his own if anyone has anything to say about his personal life.

university major. architecture & architectural technology.

after living in a trailer for the duration of his life, the idea that he would be invested in architecture is astounding. however, here he is. his passion for home creation stemmed from growing up and envisioning a real home to live in. his parents are both into self-taught carpentry, and his dad was shoving tools and measuring tape into his hands from the time he was young in an effort to instill in him a firm ��get it done yourself” mindset. he spends his time studying structure & building planning, and secretly has a journal full of dream house mark-ups.

occupation. wide receiver for the dillon panthers, full time student, & prospective architect / carpenter post-college.

tattoos. many riddled throughout his body. brandon arreaga’s tattoos are cohen’s.

face claim. brandon arreaga.

alignment. neutral evil.

hogwarts. slytherin.

positive & negative traits. ( if u’ve already read this do not read it again i promise u nothing here changed LSMFLD )

hardworking–he works himself to the bone and is entirely unapologetic about it. you’ll rarely catch him slipping, but if he does, he’s the first to get ear-splittingly angry with himself over it. he’s way too hard on himself & he knows it, but he’ll never admit it.

he nitpicks at the flaws of others in an effort to feel superior, and always acts unaffected when he’s called out for bringing the team down when he’s not taking care of himself ( cue vince howard from fnl or nathan scott from oth scenes where they’re bragging about how good they are on the field even though he’s apt to get himself hurt because of how desperate he is for some kind of validation–cohen had a huge issue with restricting and abusing stimulants / testing steroids throughout high school and college in an attempt to boost his football persona. he was always incredibly fast and beat literal ODDS to maintain his wide receiver position, but especially thanks to his small build he’s used to being underestimated / downplayed, which puts a really heavy weight on his shoulders. today, he’s eating healthily, he’s off drugs, and he’s taking care of himself better than he ever has before, but it’s still incredibly hard and he still reaches out for ways to overcompensate, which is where alcohol usually comes into play ).

transparent–sure, he can turn into a stressed out & irritable jerk within a fraction of a second, but at least he’s upfront about when he switches lanes. LDFGLMKFG

he’s incredibly focused, which means he’s never going to linger in uncertainty for too long before he admits that he’s just not down to be around you / to be there / to talk / etc. he’s no bullshitter by any means. he’d rather hurt your feelings and keep his environment stable and tactile than stick around and put his easily shaken emotions at risk just to make you comfy.

he’s also accountable. he knows when he’s causing shit to fuck up & hit the fan, and he’s always quick to right wrongs when things are on him. ofc he’s bred from a family full of blame-givers, so he unhealthily picked up a bad habit of being really good at sounding like he’s apologizing sincerely when he’s really just trying to end a fight because he’s annoyed. LDCLDKMFDFG.

he’s blunt, temperamental, & incredibly selfish when it comes to his own lifelines / vices, but wholeheartedly selfless when it comes to doing anything to protect or lift up the people he loves.

mental diagnoses. anorexia nervosa ( in recovery ), alcoholism ( ongoing ), an addiction to various stimulants ( in recovery ), & frequent past attempts at steroid use.

physical diagnoses. n / a.

phobias. has an irrational fear of accidentally burning down his house. will get immensely stressed–to the point where he’s absolutely annoying and intolerable to put up with / be around–if someone’s cooking or baking “irresponsibly.” will probably yell at you and hover-cook until you let him take over so he can make sure nothing goes wrong. LMSDFKLFG

scars. an appendix scar on his lower left side.

drug use. frequently.

alcohol use. frequently.

diet. very decently rounded. he loves to cook, despite being self-taught. growing up the way he did, he settles for making simple dishes very well. he’s not the type to go all out for dinner. he meal preps like it’s his job. he usually just settles with some kind of pan-friend chicken and pasta dish at home.

birth place. dillon, texas.

parents. "jude" judith & anthony segura.

two lower class parents with deep-rooted anger issues. they currently live in the same trailer park together, in separate trailers, and fight with each other constantly. they claim they’re divorced, and are seeing other people, but they’ve never actually filed for anything, since anthony segura thinks it’s just a ploy for judith to take “half [his] shit.” cohen visits them often, and acts as a middle ground child who hates but loves both of them equally. his dad enjoys / tolerates his son’s presence more than his mother does, but only marginally. his mother’s much less concerned with the fact that she has children, since, in her mind, her relationship issues are the most important things in her life. cohen spent many nights as a kid with his drugged up mom in his lap while she cried about not being loved by anyone. his dad, even though he’s rough with cohen, at least spends time with him every now and again. as a kid, his dad was handing him beers to drink and tools to learn to use to prove he was a man ( despite being a ten y/o child bfkjgk oh well! ). regardless, today cohen lives on his own but is still the financial backbone for his parents–since his mom is unemployed and his dad is a seasonal construction worker–and has been since he was fifteen. they ask him for money every chance they get, and cohen never says no.

siblings. a younger sister ( by two years ). loves her to death. would protect her with his life.

pets. he’s notorious for letting a certain set of strays run amuck in his house. he feeds the neighborhood cat, is a-okay with people bringing their animals to his parties, etc. but he’s too scared of permanence and obsessed with independence to ever follow through with getting his own animal.

education. current senior at dillon university.

he has always been a decent student. he got into architectural honors college his sophomore year of college. however, he’s still not by any means incredibly intelligent. he’s decent grade-wise, but only because he tries really hard and puts in the effort it takes to keep up in a field like architecture. he’s also a chronic cheater, but c’est la vie! lmfgdflkg he spends the vast majority of his time either studying or practicing, and gets very irritable very quick doing either activity because he doesn’t know how to manage stress, so he drinks in the evenings in an attempt to make up for his tense demeanor, but he’s an angry drunk so… whomst are we really kidding here. LMDFKLG

languages. english & american sign language.

#friday:intro #WHEWWWW home at last. all i did last night was wait & make gifs huh. MCVLKDFSG

11 notes · View notes

vecna · 5 years

Note

Oohh for the fandom meme! Dragon Age?

Send me a fandom!

Oh boy, this is going to be spicy.

It’s also very Anders-negative, so apologies up front.

The character(s) I first fell in love with:

I’m actually not sure which was the FIRST, but it’s a tie between Morrigan and Alistair. I saw fanart of them going around at the time Origins first released, and that’s what got me to try the game!

Alistair was a breath of fresh air, because at the time, I was used to warrior men in games being all Edgy and Rough, and he was the total opposite and a sweetheart.

And Morrigan was just instantly my goth wife, and had Claudia Black as a VA, so I was sold immediately.

Both still hold a special place for me!

The character(s) I never expected to love as much as I do now:

Loghain is the main one. He does a lot of truly reprehensible shit in the first game. But once I sat down and read the prequel novels about young Loghain, plus saw what he’s like if you recruit him, he grew on me A LOT and now he’s a top fave.

Nathaniel I expected to hate as soon as I saw his name + who his father was, but then the expansion came out and I ended up loving that dude almost immediately. I really wish he was around more after Awakening, and also really wish he’d been a romance option, especially for a Cousland haha.

Merrill is a weird one because she was totally uninteresting to me in DA:O, so when they announced her as a companion in DA2 I was like, “Ehhhh.” Then they punked me by making her adorable and sweet and now I love her.

Plus a bunch of side-characters like The Architect? I liked him a bunch in the novel + Awakening – although I found his Plan in the novel much more appealing. But as the years have gone by, I keep surprising myself at just HOW disappointed I am he’s never appeared again haha.

The character(s) everyone else loves that I don’t:

There’s a few, and all of them will get me yelled at, but here we go.

First: Isabela. This one’s a bit complicated, but it really just boils down to her attitude towards how you play your character. I actively dislike characters who are super sexual – regardless of gender. But Isabela in particular bothers me because she’s constantly pushing her lewdness and sexual humor on you, and when you try to discourage it, she admonishes you with, “Well, you’re no fun.” Her whole character is just… like that for me. Super pushy, overly lewd, gets uppity when you don’t have the same ~liberated~ opinions she does, and this is all played up in the writing like she’s this Empowered Woman the player absolutely must love, especially if they’re playing a male character lol. I hate her for the same reasons a lot of people hate Liara in Mass Effect, but with the addition of pushy lewd jokey characters always rubbing me the wrong way.

Second: Iron Bull. I’ve written a lot about why he makes me more uncomfortable than any fictional character I’ve ever encountered, and I just outright hate him, he makes my skin crawl. If you want details, feel free to DM me, I don’t really want to rant about it again publicly.

Third: Anders. Again, I’ve written a lot about him before, but. I hated him in Awakening, for a lot of the same reasons I hate Isabela in DA2. But the changes they made to him in DA2 are just kinda :/. While I absolutely agree with him about Mage Rights, the level of preachiness they added to him drove me nuts, and the fact that you’re painted as a Bad Guy if you don’t like him blowing up the chantry. And from a purely OOC standpoint: He’s become a figurehead for all the aggressive Discourse people in the fandom, and if I see someone list Anders in their sidebar bio, I know pre-emptively that their blog is going to be full of 6 page long essays of meta about how everything is Problematic, and no thanks.

To a lesser extent, I’m also not fond of Zevran. But in his case, it’s not anything major like the others, I’m just tired of Bioware’s habit of making the bisexual characters overly lewd sex-focused rogues/deviants.

The character(s) I love that everyone else hates:

Loghain, lol.

But also Sebastian Vael? There’s so much about him that I find genuinely fascinating, especially regarding his backstory, and his struggles between his feelings of responsibility to his family vs his dedication to the Chantry and bettering himself. He’s such a dear character to me, and such a pivotal part of any playthrough, I’m always blown away when I remember he’s a DLC character and many people don’t have him.

HOWEVER Anders being the fandom darling means that people tend to unfairly shit on Sebastian for reacting poorly to the Chantry explosion. People also like to label him as a poster child of a White Straight Church Boy, while refusing to acknowledge he’s… not straight, and not exactly a church boy either lol.

Also Vivienne, but I think that one’s really self-explanatory. I love her, and she gives a really needed perspective on the Circle, since most of the mage companions previously were apostates. But of course, she gets written off as a Chantry apologist, and an uppity bitch, when people would def love her for the same traits if she was not black lol.

The character(s) I used to love but don’t any longer:

Justice. And by extension, Anders. A lot of people like to rant about how Justice ruined Anders, but I always saw it the other way around.Justice was my favorite character in Awakening. The whole concept around him, that he was a Fade spirit who took human form and was experiencing life for the first time was SO fascinating. I felt like there was so much to explore there with his character.

Buuuut then they had him merge with Anders. With the narrative being that he WAS a spirit of Justice, but the moment he connected with Anders, it corrupted his entire spirit into something he wasn’t anymore. So essentially, the character I used to love no longer exists, thanks to Anders. And it reminds me of that phrase recently, about how the destination is so terrible you can no longer enjoy the journey? I can’t even appreciate Justice in Awakening anymore, knowing what happens to him.

To a lesser extent, Corypheus. He was SO COOL and the premise of him was AMAZING when he first appeared in the DA2 DLC, but then Inquisition had to go and turn him into a weird shallow mustache twirl villain.

The character(s) I would totally smooch:

None? Idk I don’t really have the Smooch Fictional Character gene.

The character(s) I’d want to be like:

MAEVARIS TILANI. May I one day finally have the confidence in my identity that she does, and also marry a sweet bear man who adores me.

The character(s) I’d slap:

Too many to list, really. Probably Anders.

The pairing(s) that I love:

THERE’S SO MANY. And most of them are with the PC, because I generally don’t ship NPCs together. But my top 3 are:

M!Hawke / Fenris is my ultimate OTP in the Dragon Age series, by a long-shot. Not even sure where to start on how much I love it, but two damaged guys leaning on each other to work through their respective loneliness and trauma is MY JAM. And lmao I love silver-sideburned Hawke chillin in retirement somewhere but being a supportive husband while Fenris goes off hunting the Bad Guys, it’s great.

Solas / Lavellan is a close second, with the caveat that I increasingly prefer it with a male Lavellan. Having the Inquisitor in love with Solas just changes the entire tone of the game for me, for the better, and him actually being the villain trying to end the world while in love with this normie elf is just (chef kiss). Too bad I’m burned out by how overly spammed it is.

Dorian / Inquisitor is in third, I will just always be fond of how it’s a story of the Inquisitor helping Dorian be happy with who he is, escape an abusive family, and realize that he’s allowed to be loved. Good shit good shit.

Some others:

Warden / Morrigan is probably my favorite Origins ship, and that only intensified with the way she talks about the Warden in Inquisition, esp if they’re Kieran’s other parent. What a cute goth family, regardless of the Warden’s gender, cause you can pry Bi Morrigan from my cold dead fingers.

Cassandra / Inquisitor might have a lot of Romance Cliches, but I adore it – although, similar others, I increasingly prefer it with a female Inquisitor. I actively dislike the weird no-homo rejection with her, and come on, a lady Inquisitor being her Knight In Shining Armor is just good storytelling.

Cullen / Inquisitor, for a lot of the same reasons as Cassandra. I love me a cliche romance, but I’m also fond of the narrative w/ him of someone he loves helping him heal through the lyrium withdrawals and take time to rest.

Josephine / F!Inquisitor is just adorable all around, and wholesome, and great.

Varric / Hawke COME ON HOW WAS THIS NOT AN OPTION.

On the rarepair end:

Sebastian / Hawke doesn’t seem like it would be a rarepair – you’d think everyone who loves Cullen/Inquisitor would love this one too. I do! But alas. That said, I’m also pretty aggro about this one with a male Hawke because SEBASTIAN IS CANON BI. WHY WAS HIS ROMANCE STRAIGHT.

Maric / Loghain is a rarepair I will take with me to my grave LOL. Never forget the scene where Maric thought Loghain was leaving, and bolted across the camp with almost no clothes on to beg Loghain to stay. Come on.

Nathaniel / Cousland is dear to me, and I love it so much more than Alistair / Cousland haha.

Greagoir / Wynne, I can’t believe this got validated in canon ahhhh.

The pairing(s) that I despise:

Again: THERE’S SO MANY.

Iron Bull / Dorian is my least fave by a longshot. Again, I have written about why I hate this pairing a great many times, but it’s awful and toxic and makes me deeply uncomfortable, and I could happily go the rest of my life without seeing anything about it ever again. Please keep poor Dorian away from that man. He deserves someone that doesn’t sexually harass him until he’s finally worn down into dubious consent (while drunk) and then outted to everyone about it.

Isabela / Fenris. Sorry, but it’s just bad writing that Fenris bails on Hawke because the physical intimacy triggered his PTSD and he needs space to process, but then will turn around and have a casual sex relationship with Isabela instead. Yikes.

Anders / Fenris. Aveline / Isabela. Alistair / Morrigan. All of the DA2 Hawke/companion rivalmances. I don’t enjoy “these two people hate and antagonize and want to kill each other… but they fuck” in any form.

Cullen / Amell. Yikes.

And basically ALL of the canon wlw pairings in this series suffer from the fact they have men writing them, and as a result they’re almost always some kind of abusive or racist, and skeeve me out. See: Celene / Briala, Leliana / Marjolaine, Branka / Hespith, etc. Please Bioware, I’m begging you to consult some actual queer women. It’s insane how badly they’re treated compared to how the canon mlm couples are written.

FINALLY, I recognize this will be the most unpopular of all, but. As much as I love M!Hawke/Fenris, I just honestly cannot stand seeing F!Hawke/Fenris. There are some pairings where I’m so attached to the m/m or f/f version, I cannot deal with the m/f version anymore, and that’s one of them. (The others are mainly non-Bioware.)

#LONG POST #REALLY LONG #SORRY #misc: text #misc: asks #misc: meme #series: dragon age #gen: bioware #utopianoverlord

10 notes · View notes

swimmingseafish · 4 years

Text

Sanderstale Prequel: Jen

So, this is a Sanderstale prequel fic that I wrote in literally one day. It’s somewhat OC-focused, but I’m pretty proud of it, so I’m posting it here too.

tagged: @hideyseek @ironwoman359 @shrimpangie

summary: The journal of the second heir to the human throne, before the human-monster war. Could also be described as the personal accounts of Princen Cal of Medeis, featuring their family and monster friends and one particularly violent Entity.

CW: violence (mentioned at least), several implied deaths, possession, and an almost-drowning (but very vague).

(Please let me know if I need to tag anything else for this fic. I don’t think I’m leaving anything out, but I’m not positive.)

Read it on ao3!

Entry 1

(I have a strange urge to write this like a letter, and no one’s going to read this anyways, so they won’t care if I’m a dork.)

Hi, book of blank lined pages.

Father says I should keep a journal and write an entry once a week. He thinks it’ll help me prepare to help rule the kingdom one day. Or at least, I suppose, to deal with paperwork.

I mean, I guess it isn’t a bad idea. We’ll see how this goes.

It was nice to meet you.

- Cal

Entry 2

Greetings, still-mostly-blank journal.

People write important events down in journals, right? I think that’s how it works.

Well, I had my naming day this week! I’d been SO looking forward to turning eighteen. I finally got to stand in front of the kingdom and introduce myself to the world as Calyx, they/them, second heir to the throne of Medeis. Immy was very proud of her little sibling (me).

Prince Emile of Bellua was there, too, out of royal formality and respect. His naming day was a few months ago. I still don’t know him very well, but he seems nice, and so do his parents, which is good. Eventually, Immy and I will have to negotiate with him on things like borders and taxes, so we better at least kind of get along.

Hey, you know what? Since it’s my naming day and I insist on writing these like letters, I might as well name you, too. How about Jen?

(So, I like alliteration. Sue me.)

See you next week,

Cal

Entry 3

Dear Jen,

Mother and Father have been particularly stressed this week.

We’ve been working with Bellua to build and maintain a reservoir on the Regio, which is the largest river in the area and also happens to be the border between our two kingdoms. But the negotiation of exactly where to put the dam has been an absolute nightmare.

Why can’t we just put it by Lake Aureus? That makes the most sense. It’s basically a reservoir on its own already—just dam the river and add supporting structures to make the lake deeper. And that lake’s relatively empty of life for some reason, even though the water’s clean, so we wouldn’t be encroaching on protected species or monster homes.

But no one asked me, so.

Actually, hold on a second. I’m going to try something.

***

Back two hours later to say that Immy absolutely loved my idea and will be pitching it to our parents tomorrow morning. Huh. Maybe I should speak up more.

Good night, Jen.

- Cal

Entry 4

Dear Jen,

I’m no longer sure if speaking up was a good idea or not.

It’s managed to convince Immy and my parents that it’s time for me to handle a project on my own. Which should be a good thing! And I’m happy that they consider me responsible enough for that! It’s just that the project in question happens to be this infernal DAM. It’s fascinating, but the paperwork and scheduling and negotiations for workers and who does what when are absolutely EXCRUCIATING.

Also, I’ve spent nearly every day this week with Diana, the royal architect, which, again, SHOULD have been fine, if we hadn’t gotten into an argument five years ago with her daughter that led to us completely cutting off communication. Diana would not stop talking about Daisy.

“Yes, your highness, I agree that we should add more supports on that side. By the way, have you considered asking my daughter to help? She’s becoming quite a skilled architect herself.”

“It’s such a shame that you and Daisy don’t talk anymore, your highness.”

“Daisy actually came up with this particular design. Isn’t she doing such a good job?”

“Did you hear

I was going to keep writing out things that she said, but I got frustrated, so nope.

I like Diana, but I had good reason to stop talking to Daisy. So, also a big nope on talking to her.

I wish just one thing in my life was straightforward. Wait, no, definitely not. Nothing about me is straight.

***

I just laughed for a good five minutes over a pun I’ve made a billion times. I’m definitely exhausted. I need to at least try to get some sleep.

Night, Jen.

- Cal

Entry 5

Dear Jen,

Sorry, I know it’s been a month since I’ve last written, but I’ve gotten so much done!

Diana and I completed the plans for the Vis Dam three weeks ago, and it’s been under construction ever since. I’m due to go and supervise the end of construction in a few days.

I’m, quite frankly, a little nervous. I’ve put so much time and effort into this project, and it actually seems like it’s paying off.

As long as it’s not like the Cat Herding Incident of 1845, I think we’ll be good.

I’ll update this more once I can finally say the project’s complete.

- Cal

Entry 6

Dear Jen,

So! Things have happened. The Vis Dam is finished, thank goodness, but that didn’t quite go as planned.

Let me break this down for you:

I, in my ridiculous ceremonial robes, arrive at the dam. Prince Emile’s there, along with several other monster nobles that I don’t know and a host of human and monster workers.

I make small talk with Emile for the next hour or so until the dam’s officially complete. I learn that he really likes tea and that we both enjoyed this one children’s book series about space gem people. He is incredibly pleased to learn that I’d read it and that I am actually willing to listen to him talk about it. (People need to give this guy a place to nerd out more often, clearly.)

Both Diana and Daisy are there. I say hi to Diana and then proceed to ignore them as politely as possible.

It’s time for me to dedicate the dam, and I make my speech from the second-floor platform, just underneath the area that would vent water. It should be noted, and it cannot be emphasized enough, that this was not my idea. I would have been fine giving my speech from the top of the dam. But Diana decided, along with my parents, that it would be better to give a speech about the two kingdoms getting along if everyone was on the same level, literally. So, she added in a large, retractable platform lower on the structure. Why it was beneath the water vents, I have no idea. It might just be because that was in the center. Regardless, that’s beside the point.

Everyone else stands around me, while I stand with my back to the dam. It should be noted that the water vents were supposed to be OFF.

I finish my dedication of the dam to peace and harmony between humans and monsters, and everyone starts applauding. The vent directly above my head, determined to ruin my day, opens, blasting me and a dozen other assorted monsters and humans off of the dam and into the reservoir below.

This was not a short fall, by the way. It was a good 200 feet down at least. The only reason we didn’t all die was that someone caught us with blue magic just before we hit the water, holding us still for a brief second and then letting us drop 2 feet instead.

I, also, am terrible at swimming. We—Immy and I—had to take classes as children, but we only ever had to get good enough to be able to survive. Immy’s a swimming champion. I can tread water for five minutes. I was not (and am not) equipped to survive in a raging river.

Fortunately, just as I was about to go under for good, I felt my SOUL turn blue again. I was forcibly yanked from the water so hard that I flew over the water and smacked into my very furry rescuer. He felt so guilty that he couldn’t stop apologizing, despite the fact that he’d saved my life and he had no reason to feel sorry (as I promptly told him).

Turns out, his name was Patton, and he’d been practicing his blue magic by working on the dam—moving parts into place alongside the other workers. His specialty is healing magic, but his parents both served in high positions in the Belluan military, so they had insisted he learn more combative magic as well. He’d done great with fire magic, he told me, but the specific SOUL magic types had proven more difficult, hence the practice.

Right then, Emile, who’d apparently escaped being thrown off the platform by the waterfall of death, ran over, asking if I was okay. I quickly assured him that I was and that he didn’t need to worry, though it was appreciated.

And then:

“Oh! Prince Emile Dreemurr, meet Patton Hart. He saved my life.”

“Ah, n-nice to meet you, Patton.” Emile’s cheeks turned bright red as he dipped his head to Patton.

“It’s nice to meet you too, your highness!” Patton said, bowing and then bouncing back up. He glanced at me, still soaking wet, and then at Emile, standing there in pristine royal robes. “I see you’re not a go with the flow kind of prince.”

All three of us immediately burst out laughing, but Emile couldn’t stop staring at Patton the whole time. Prince Emile, who I’d officially decided was my friend now, clearly had a GIANT crush on the boy who saved my life.

I went home after talking to both of them for a little while longer—and after getting a towel. My robes were soaked. I think I’m going to need new ones; I don’t trust that velvet to last after that much exposure to dubious-quality water.

Patton, Emile, and I are planning on meeting up next week. I’m determined to play matchmaker. Also, they both seem like amazing people, and I haven’t had a close friend outside of Immy in years. (Don’t be offended, Jen—I’m counting humans and monsters, not journals).

Wow, this entry got long. I’ll be back sometime soon. It’s after midnight and I have to debrief Mother and Father tomorrow on this whole fiasco.

But overall, a successful day, don’t you think?

Night!

- Cal

Entry 7

Dear Jen,

I love these two.

First of all, there was an absolutely GOLD moment that I have to share.

We all met up at my home, the castle in Medeis, since neither Emile nor Patton regularly made trips to the human kingdom, so I figured it’d be fun for them. Patton got there first, and we were sitting in what is best described as the living room and chatting.

Emile, arriving next, didn’t know that Patton was there already, and for reasons unknown decided to open the door while making what were arguably the strangest noises I have ever heard in my life. It was like he was trying to be an entire orchestra introducing the beginning of a children’s play but could only generate notes via his own voice and using the vowel “da” at various pitches and intensities.

I actually didn’t even know it was him at first, to be honest, until he stopped, popped his head around the door frame, and instantly turned bright red upon seeing both me and Patton.

Does he just enter every room that way? Is that something he reserves for friends? Not the blushing thing, but the singing thing. I didn’t ask because he was already embarrassed, but now I REALLY want to know.

Second, on a more general level, things I learned from this experience:

1. Patton probably has a crush on Emile too, based on the evidence of my own eyes. (No, Jen, I refuse to elaborate. That would take up at LEAST all the rest of your pages.)

2. Patton will make puns endlessly unless he is stopped. (And Emile will definitely not stop him ever.)

3. Emile will reference various fantasy books endlessly and cannot be stopped. (This is not a bad thing. He clearly loves them.)

4. Patton, despite being the only one out of the three of us that isn’t an heir to a throne (and the youngest by a couple weeks), has the best head for leadership and politics.

5. All three of us care too much, apparently, and have been told so several times by our family and friends, especially Emile. He says not to hold it against his parents, though.

6. Patton’s a pacifist and refuses to fight anyone in a real battle, though he is trained for it. Luckily, there aren’t really any real battles he’d need to fight in. We’re lucky enough to live in a remarkably peaceful time.

7. Emile is simultaneously stronger and weaker than you’d think. He’s built, with broad shoulders and muscles clearly built up from years of training. But we practiced fighting together, and he’s the most skilled at magical attacks. His trident is really something else. I’m a skilled martial artist, but I’m not a mage, so I can only beat him about half the time.

8. Emile is trying to grow a beard with only VERY limited success. I asked him why he bothers when he already has more than enough hair, and he bopped me (very lightly!) on the head with his trident.

9. I laugh a whole lot more around Emile and Patton than I normally do.

The only other person I’ve been this close to was Daisy, but she broke my heart at age thirteen and I have no desire to revisit that experience. (Maybe the fact that I’m still stuck on it five years later is an issue. There really should be like…mind doctors or something to help with things like that.)

But anyways, I’m not in love with either of them, for sure. Though Immy would get a kick out of it if I fell in love with Emile—she’d say I managed to arrange my own marriage.

I do love them as friends, though, even though we haven’t spent too much time together. I think I get attached quick.

Hopefully we’ll get to do this again a lot in the future.

I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to write in the next few months. Harvest season’s coming up, and I still have to do maintenance on the dam. But I’m dedicated to this now, even though I think my dad’s forgotten he suggested it. Don’t worry, Jen. I won’t abandon you.

Have a good few months,

Cal

Entry 8

Hey, Jen. It’s been a while, huh?

I had a feeling it was going to be hard to keep this up consistently.

Anyways, I’m nineteen now, so there’s that! And yes, past me, you did get to hang out with Patton and Emile much more, don’t worry—I’m now confident in calling them my best friends. And they’re still dancing around each other like the goofballs they are. (To be fair, they’ve had more pressing concerns recently.) Even Emile’s little sister, Princess Linda, needles him about Patton constantly. That’s a good sister right there, and I say this with the full knowledge that I would hate it if Immy did this to me.

I also got to meet Patton’s friend Camden, a tortoise monster, and Camden’s little brother Gerson, who is the most optimistic child (and potentially person) on the face of the planet. Camden wants to be a professional photographer someday, and his work is excellent. He’s hilarious and laughs at pretty much any badly planned joke, which I’m starting to think is a prerequisite for being Patton’s friend.

And Gerson—I still cannot get over him. He’s seven years old and knows so much about the world and current events, but he never lets it affect him negatively. He always looks at the bright side. A monster kid like that, even if he’s not a boss monster, is going to live for centuries.

Oh yeah, current events. I guess I should put that in here too. God knows I need to talk to someone about it.

Tensions between humans and monsters are on the rise and have been pretty consistently for the past year. I didn’t know until three months ago when a skirmish broke out on the border—right by the Vis Dam, in fact. Three humans were grievously injured, and one was killed, but five monsters in total were turned to dust.

Immy and my parents had been trying to handle it quietly with Emile and his parents, but there have been an increasing number of humans terrified of monsters in recent years.

Someone—a palace worker named Silenda—went through the records from the long-ago battles between humans and monsters. She found out that monsters could absorb human SOULs while humans couldn’t absorb monster ones, and she told her brother, who unfortunately was both unable to keep his mouth shut and worked for a very popular newspaper. The information spread quickly, and there are some in our kingdom who have used it to stir up fear.

I actually was a little hurt that my parents didn’t trust me or Immy with this information. And that once they did let us know, they only told Immy. She had to tell me. But I do understand. She’s the Crown Princess. She’ll be queen one day.

But I’ll be her advisor and strongest supporter. Shouldn’t I know, too?

Ugh. I’m still bitter about this and it’s not remotely the point.

The point is that we’re starting to see skirmishes on the border, and neither ruling party wants that. But both countries have so far been unable to stop the fighting. The small factions are operating independently of the leadership.

We might have to call in the military to calm down the situation if it gets any worse, and I can’t see that going remotely well.

I said at the beginning of this entry that I’ve still been seeing Patton and Emile. And I have. But it’s gotten a lot less frequent over the last three months.

Patton’s been working with the medical corps of the Belluan military and volunteering on the “front lines” of the skirmishes, healing whoever he can. Camden’s out there with him, documenting everything for posterity. Gerson mostly stays home, but Camden’s had to bring him once or twice.

Emile’s doing his best as Crown Prince, but it’s been hard on him. He doesn’t hold much power on his own yet, and he feels like if his parents can’t do anything, what could he possibly do?

I’ve been reaching out diplomatically to the leaders of the small factions as best I can to try to get them to stop. Silenda’s been helping me; she’s a surprisingly fast writer, and incredibly brave and strong and a true believer in justice. She also blames herself for everything that’s been going on.

I’ve told her repeatedly that I, at least, don’t blame her, which is true, I don’t. I blame her brother, a little, and the newspaper some, but mostly I blame the people who decided that the only answer to being scared is to kill.

Why did I have to jinx everything by writing that we live in peaceful times?

I wish I could have a conversation about this with someone besides you, Jen, but everyone’s just so busy and overwhelmed and stressed. All I can do with them is endlessly throw solutions around and have none of them work out. At least I can get my thoughts out this way.

Until next time.

- Cal

[On the next three pages, several entries were started and then scratched out.]

Entry 9

Jen—

I turned twenty, and I think I might be losing my mind.

We tried military intervention. It didn’t work. Our soldiers, instead of holding the monsters back and protecting our own citizens, decided to go rogue and wipe out the entire monster battalion.

Bellua and its rulers were rightfully devastated and furious, and they were about to declare war on us.

My parents, Immy, me, and several other councilors held a meeting in the throne room to determine our best course of action. Eventually, they got around to asking my opinion.

I opened my mouth to suggest literally anything other than war. Reparations, peace talks, giving up territory. My best friends were monsters and I had—and still have—absolutely no desire to fight or kill them or their families.

But then I felt like my body was taken over by a stranger. I couldn’t control my movements or my voice. I watched, a horrified passenger in my body, as my voice made a persuasive argument for declaring war before Bellua could.

And they listened.

My parents. My sister. All the councilors.

They listened.

And they declared war.

What’s wrong with me?

I couldn’t—didn’t—say those things.

I love my friends so much that it feels like I have a star living in my chest.

Sil almost slapped me when she found out what I’d done. Instead, she quietly gathered her things and left, tears running down her face. I love her too, and I’ve never told her.

And I might have just lost all of them.

Who do I go to for help? Who would believe me? Even if they did, what could they do?

What the hell is going on, Jen?

Entry 10

It happens nearly every day now.

The Entity—that’s what I’ve chosen to call it—comes for me in the morning. I go through my routine mechanically, or, at least, my body does. Then the Entity and I join the royal council to make plans and move troops.

I’m a general now. Me. All I thought I would ever do was help Immy and run paperwork. And maybe build more dams.

I fight on the field, too. The Entity favors lightweight javelins and shatters SOUL after SOUL with them.

I think dust is permanently stuck to my boots.

I can’t make it stop.

Entry 11

Immy’s worried about me. But she’s all for the war now. And the Entity exerts control even when it’s not speaking for me. I can’t take its words back, so I can’t tell her what’s wrong.

Patton’s worried about me. He’s tried to send me messages using the little spiders that serve the matriarch of the Spider Clans. The Entity won’t let me write back or even read them, and it hurts every single time. The most I’ve managed to do is protect the spiders. The Entity wanted to squish them.

I don’t know if Emile’s worried about me or if he even cares. I’ve seen him leading charges on the battlefield, too. I don’t know if he’s seen me, but I hope not.

I haven’t heard from Sil. The Entity won’t let me reach out to her, either. But I thought I saw her next to Emile, once. I hope she’s safe, or as safe as anyone can be in this broken world.

Entry 12

I caught my reflection in the mirror today when the Entity was in control. They turn my eyes this weird pale red color. It’s not even pink. They just dull my eyes.

Appropriate, I guess.

I’m twenty-one today, for whatever it’s worth.

Entry 13

The Entity can control time.

Today, I managed to break free of their control for a split second and shatter a bottle of squid ink on a table filled with valuable intelligence. I could sense how angry they were. And, of course, how angry everyone else was. Immy just about took my head off.

But then I felt a warm sensation in my chest, blinked, and somehow it was 7 AM that morning again. I saw a flicker of bright golden light for just a second before the Entity, still irritated, quickly ran through my morning tasks again and headed back to the throne room. They kept me on a tighter leash this time, and I didn’t have another chance to break free.

How did they do that?

More importantly, if they’re controlling MY body, is that something THEY can do or something I can do? Because if I’m the one who can do that…

I need to conduct some research.

Entry 14

I’m exhausted. I’ve been doing most of my research at night. The Entity has far less control at night.

I still try to stay awake all day, though. I need to keep tabs on what they’re doing with my body.

Hence why my brain is dead right now. But I need to catalog what I’ve found.

My SOUL is red. I’ve known this since I was a small child. SOUL colors are logged at age five, as soon as it’s definitely safe enough to enter into the sort of magical connection necessary for a SOUL to appear on someone’s chest.

No one else in my family has a red SOUL. Immy’s is purple, Mother’s is dark blue, and Father’s is green. (Sil, though not my family, has a yellow SOUL.)

I’ve never met anyone else, as far as I know, with a red SOUL. That’s what started me on the track of thinking that SOUL colors might be important.

According to the old texts I found in the library, all the other SOUL colors are thought to be linked to personality traits or convictions. Light blue is patience, orange is bravery, dark blue is integrity, purple is perseverance, green is kindness, and yellow is justice. But red is never labeled, not in any of the texts I looked at.

Finally, at the very back of the library, just as the sun was coming up, I found a book so old and covered in dust that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to read it before it fell apart.

That book said that red SOULs store immense power, but they’re not linked to any specific trait. Red SOULs are said to be blank slates. People used to be afraid of them, apparently, because they feared they could be possessed by demons.

Well, if the Entity isn’t a demon, I don’t know what the fuck it is.

The part I still don’t get is the “immense power” line. The only humans who can use magic are mages. I’m not a mage. I know I’m not a mage. We’re tested for that as kids.

But I’ve never tried to see if I could control time because as far as I knew, that was impossible, and it’s a little late to learn.

And there’s always the chance that this could in fact be the Entity’s power, not mine, and I’m going on a wild goose chase in the middle of a war.

I don’t have much else to do, though, do I, Jen?

[The next pages are filled with tally marks and scribbled notes in various different pencils and markers. There are drawings of SOULs on several of the pages, and spilled candle wax and dried tears adorn a few as well.]

Entry 15

Well, I still can’t make those glowing time-points. But I do actually have a surprising amount of stored magic. It was just sitting in the center of my SOUL. I would never have figured out how to access it if it weren’t for the Entity.

I’ve seen and felt them reset a couple more times since that first day, usually when they say something that they consider less than optimal. They’ll just reset and repeat that moment over and over again until it meets whatever the fuck their standards are.

We’re four years into the war, now. I skipped noting a couple of birthdays in there, somewhere, but I’m twenty-four now. Twenty-four, and there’s still a demon living in my head, forcing me to kill.

Emile’s parents were assassinated last year. Not by me, but the Entity supported it. My parents are still alive, but I’m not sure how long that will last, giving the blood-and-dust nature of the world right now.

I know Sil’s one of Emile’s top tacticians now, thanks to the intelligence the Entity has gathered. I’ve seen Camden’s war photography, including a photo of Gerson, much taller than he used to be but still just a kid, standing out in front of their home with a giant hammer in his arms. Patton’s still working on the front lines, healing as many people as he can. He still refuses to fight. I admire him so much for being able to make that choice and stick to it. I wish my hands were still clean.

Linda’s serving under Emile now, too, but as a soldier. She’s far too young for this.

Maybe we’re all too young for this.

Immy scares me the most. She still supports the war, but more out of fear than anything else. She sounds like those fearmongering men from so long ago.

She makes me wonder if the war is even the Entity’s fault.

Maybe it would have happened anyway.

Entry 16

I found my power.

But I don’t control time—or at least, I don’t know how.

I erase memories.

The Entity stayed down in the dungeons—that’s another thing we never used to have, or at least use, here, really. But anyways, the Entity stayed down in the dungeons for too long, and night fell. So, I had a little bit more control than usual.

I reached out with just a little bit of my magic and tried to make one of those glowing stars that allow the Entity to reset. Instead, one of the prisoners cried out.

“Where am I? What happened?” They looked around wildly. “Wait…WHO am I?!”

That absolutely wasn’t what I meant to do. And I couldn’t figure out how to bring the memories back. It looks like, when I erase memories, they’re gone for good.

But I needed to figure this out. I tested my power on one more prisoner and figured out that I can erase only specific memories if I try hard enough.

Writing this out, I’m shocked at myself. I’m experimenting on people. And I don’t even feel that bad about it.

What’s wrong with me? I’m so numb to suffering at this point. I’m numb to the world.

I miss Patton, Emile, Camden, and Gerson…and Sil. But they’re better off without me.

I don’t know what I can do with this power. I’ll keep fighting the Entity. Maybe I can break free. Maybe that’ll be enough.

What else can I erase?

[There’s an interval of at least twenty blank, crisp pages.]

Entry 17

It’s almost over. After five years, it’s almost over.

I managed to free myself from the Entity for now. I won’t say how because I don’t have time, but they’re not happy.

Medeis won, if you can call it that. Sil, as the monster ambassador, and I managed to get Immy to agree to seal the monsters underground rather than exterminate them. The war’s done a number on us all.

Sil still hates me. She doesn’t understand. She can’t. She never will. Neither will any of them. They’ll all hate me forever.

Sil has teamed up with a group of other mages to create the Barrier. With me, that makes seven.

The Entity doesn’t like this. They want to kill all the monsters.

I won’t let that happen.

Camden’s dead. Linda’s dead. My parents are dead. Immy, Gerson, Patton, and Emile are still alive, and so are thousands of others. You don’t get to take them too, do you hear me, you absolute sack of shit?

You think this is a game.

You think that what you do doesn’t matter.

It matters to me. It matters to Immy, and Sil, and everyone else in my world.

After we seal the monsters underground, I’m going to erase you from this world. I’ll erase you, and I’ll erase the memory of monsters and magic ever existing from the minds of every human on this planet.

I’ll almost certainly die in the process, but I don’t care. They’ll have a future, and the monsters will be safe from you and the humans like you.

There’s no future for me anymore.

You’ll have no host and no memory of your purpose or identity. You’ll be gone for good.

They’ll be safe. They’ll be safe. They’ll be safe.

I love you. All of you. More than words could ever say.

Goodbye.

- Princen Calyx of Medeis

#sanderstale #my writing #sanderstale prequel

3 notes · View notes

kokaniaas-blog · 4 years

Text

Beauty - Need to Re-Discover It?

The mettle of our times seems to no longer trust beauty.

Prince Charles was talking to the Royal Institute of British Architects at the occasion of their 150th birthday closely the proposed extending of the National Gallery.

"What is proposed is like a monstrous carbuncle on the haughtiness of a much loved and elegant friend." (Prince of Wales)

He had seen scads British architecture as sterile and plain ugly.

Is this still true? And do we deficiency to re-discover honor around us?

Defining beauty When we see something beautiful its polish is subjectively felt. Yet, the thought of glory and ugliness is elusive and difficult to put into libretto and define. Perhaps this is because of individual distinction in our deference of it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What one homme finds beautiful, another merely sentimental. One, attractive, another repulsive.

Beauty has been said to be something to do with appreciating harmony, balance, rhythm. It captures our attention, satisfying and distillation the mind.

It is not the objects depicted by art that defines whether something is beautiful or ugly. Instead it is how the object is dealt with that type it possibly inspirational.

Spiritual philosopher Emanuel Swedenborg suggests that what arouses our intuition that a human robe is beautiful is not the tumors itself, but the infirmity shining from it. It is the spiritual within the natural that stirs our affections, not the natural on its own.

"The polish of a woman is not in a facial way but the true praise in a hens is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives; the ardor that she shows. The honor of a woman grows with the exceeding years." (Audrey Hepburn)

Beauty tins also occur even in suffering.

"Even in some of the mass painful value I've witnessed as a doctor, I discovery a sense of beauty... That our brains are wired to rosters another person's pain, to want to be moved by it and do something about it, is profoundly heartening." (Physician-poet Rafael Campo)

Creative art Roger Scruton, philosopher, points out that between 1750 and 1930 the meaning of art or music was beauty. People saw glory as valuable as truism and goodness. Then in the 20th century it stopped creature important. Then many artists aimed to disturb, tremble and to pause moral taboos. The earliest of these was Marcel Duchamp e.g. his installation of a urinal. It was not beauty, but originality and irony and other intellectual impression that they focused on. This is what won the prizes no incident the moral cost.

The art ore now believes that those who look for beauty in art, are just out of touch with modern realities. Since the earths is disturbing, art should be agitation too. Yet I would suggest that what is shocking first time round is uninspiring and hollow when repeated.

"If the land is so ugly, what's the core of formations it even uglier with ugly music?... I have tried to type it sound as beautiful as I can. Otherwise what's the point... So if you requirement to hear how ugly the modern burrow is,... you can just switch on the hit and listen to the news. But I pondering that most people go to coordination because they event to hear beautiful music. Music full of melodies that you tins busyness or sing. Music that speaks to the heart. Music that proceeding to type you event to smile or ejaculation or dance. (Alma Deutscher, 12 year old agreement violinist/pianist)

If there are still any artists creating beautiful thing of art, I suspect, like any good news in the newspapers, they are not getting the headlines.

Awakening to the spiritual In addition to much of our contemporary art and built environment, tins we also detect a grating unattractiveness - not to ascription self-centeredness and offensiveness - now entrance into the language and politeness shown in our swarm media? As though honor has no longer any real situation in our lives.

So when we discovery us in the trouble of negativity, do we give us time to be open to beauty?

"What is this existence if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare...

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to expectation till her gossip can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor existence this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare. (William Henry Davies)

Effect on us of cultural change I'm wondering if by losing praise we are also losing something else. Something I would describe as a deeper perception of what is good and innocent in life.

Scruton suggests that harmony without this deeper detecting is like maintenance in a spiritual desert. He argues that the artists of the past were aware that existence was full of devastation and suffering. But they had a medicine for this and the remedy was beauty. He reckons that the beautiful convention of art brings consolation in sorrow and affirmation in joy. It shows human existence to be worth-while.

Beauty - A reminder of transcendent reality Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But is praise only a subjective thing? Is there also an significance actuality to it?

Perhaps we conditions to re-visit the foresight of the ancients. According to Plato, beauty, like justice, and goodness, is an eternally existing entity. He said it eternally exists, regardless of replacing social conceptions and circumstances. This would mean that glory has existed even when there was no one around to banner it.

It revenue millions of age for light to travel the vast distance to reach our telescopes. So we now see the beauty of the stars as they were before human creature existed.

I would opinion beauty is something, that at its heart, has the actuality of purity - the purity of absolute Love Itself.

"Beauty is truth, truism beauty, that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye indispensability to know." (John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn)

As a clinical psychologist, Stephen Russell-Lacy has specialised in cognitive-behavioural psychotherapy, campaign for dozens days with adults suffering agony and disturbance.

1 note · View note

activatingaggro · 6 years

Text

INKTOBER - 18 - EXPOSED

CALICO KUANFU | 9.23 SWEEPS / 20 YEARS OLD

RICKSHAW CC-R, EAST ALTERNIAN SEA | 2,937 WORDS

CW: body horror, helms

If you're perfectly honest, you put up a good face of things, but you don't actually care that much about the other Rickshaws.

You love your community. There's nothing that you wouldn't do for II-J, and you know every face on it, even if you don't know their names. They're your people, and you're their leader. It's a role that you were hatched for, one that you were made for, and you could never be anything less than in love with the position, because it's carved into your very skin.

But the other Rickshaws are not yours. This has always been your greatest flaw, and your guiltiest secret, but that's just the fact of the matter. All you can do is try to work around it.. and when you get an opportunity, try to do your best despite it.

Case in point: you're on CC-R tonight, here to figure out why their engines keep sputtering, and, in the name of honesty, you kind of want to burn the entire place to the ground.

Everyone here speaks - well, literally every fucking language, pretty much. There were teals chattering away in Eastern at the bistro. There's been hands flashing in seadweller sign everywhere, constant little flits of movements to compound each spoken word. There's people speaking the imperial mainlander's tripe everywhere you turn, others slinging around some northern coastal variant, and constantly, constantly, there's fucking Standard clattering against your ears like rocks, nasal and harsh over the din of the rest of the Rickshaw.

You had to take out your worm five minutes ago, just to keep from going insane. Noise's never bothered you, but CC-R is one of the oldest Rickshaws, and it's over three times the size of II-J. This city's fallen into the waves more times than you can count, and it's come back larger each time, with the remnants forming the bobbing islands you can see off in the distance. "Those work off of solar power," Afzudi tells you. He's one of the only trolls on here who actually speaks Seacant, and part of you is desperately, soppily grateful to him for it. "You don't need to worry about those."

"Right, 'course."

Afzudi is the ceruleanblood who manages CC-R. He's shorter than you, like pretty much everyone on here, and bone-thin, also like everyone here. It's weird. There's a lot of things weird about this place, like the fucking language, but the starvation factor?

You've got the blubber stores to rival a goddamn seal, and half of your Rickshaw's passed seal and gone straight into walrus. That's part of the way II-J works! It's part of why you work so hard to make sure it keeps working. No one's ever so much as missed as a meal since you became Calico, one way or another, and no one's ever looked like Afzudi in front of you, so skinny that you can count each knob in his spine. It's weird. You hate it. But you hate a lot of things about other Rickshaws, from the language to the architecture to the starvation and disease that permeate them.

That's fine. That's why you're out here helping. Some folks compare trolls to crabs. They say if one pops up, the rest'll drag it back down into the basket, just to make sure none of 'em get free. You've never believed that! You've improved your Rickshaw.

You're going to improve the rest, too, one city at a goddamn time.

"So! How many helms do you have working in the main generator?" It's strange to walk through a Rickshaw where every building hasn't been reinforced and rebuilt. You've had your residents working for sweeps to redevelop the city, in a mixture of solid carbon-fiber struts and flexible panels that'll absorb the blows of the water, or the rain, or the rare bouts of gunfire. It's never looked pretty, but it looks better than this. The buildings in CC-J are just.. shanties, aluminum siding and wood that's been bleached bone-white over centuries of saltwater and air, and they sway in the wind above you as you walk. The only thing holding them up is the webbing stretched thick between all of them, shining like sails in the moonlight, and spotted with white bodies.

"Four? Five?" you hazard.

"Eight," he says, leading you past the buildings, and straight down an alley where there's pupas playing ulama. CC-R's got more sparkplugs than you've ever expected. They scatter into the air like kinglets when you approach, the rubber ball clattering to the ground in the aftermath.

You snatch it up and spin it on a finger as you walk. "Eight? Seriously? Like, not harshin' on you, dude, but - why? I know it's big, but --"

He shrugs. "Our infrastructure's just old, and it's easier this way." He looks back at you. The light here's weak. Shadow curves across the sharp planes of his face, deepens the hollows of his cheeks. But when he smiles, it softens him. "I was hoping you could help," he says.

Your stomach does a strange flop. "Right," you say, and you don't let your gaze linger on the way his mouth quirks, or the sudden surge of warmth in your voice. "That's what I'm here for!"

CC-R's engine room is buried deep within the rickshaw. He leads you from a shady plaza into a side room, and then down a winding set of stairs, where the chatter of the populace is finally fading, and the drone of engines is gradually replacing it. The original architects of the Rickshaws tried to make every surface sloped to force the seawater to run off, rather than collect. But the concrete here's straight. The engine's have to stay steady.

And biowire's a delicate construct. "Careful," Afzudi warns you as you walk. He's flipped on a light attached to his forehead, and the bug's glow casts an uneven glow: in the darkness, you can faintly see the outline of biowire pulsing on the ground, shadowy impressions that stretch as far as the eye can see. "We had to move all of them further downstairs, after the fifth century raid. It's not ideal, but it keeps people from getting at the engine. Hey, babe -"

A spider is slinking out of the darkness, its eyes focused on you as it steps over him. It's only the size of a dog, high enough to hit his ribcage, but there's venom spooling on the end of its mandibles, and you hesitate until Afzudi waves you forward. "She doesn't bite," he tells you. "You're with me, don't worry. Mum just keeps some of the extra bodies down here to guard them."

"Haha, no problem, dude. She's great! I love her, like.." Afzudi raises his eyebrows at you, like he's encouraging you to continue. So you gesture towards her, rolling your shoulders. "The whole smooth, shiny, bloodless carapace look? Really hot," you declare, then pause, because he's looking at you. The spider is looking at you. You're pretty sure, if you paid attention, even the biowire would be looking at you.

"Uh, not in a weird way, though. Like, I am absolutely not a spider-fucker, although I know that sentence kind of implied it, but no?" It's fine! You can save it, because Afzudi's smile has turned into a proper grin, like he's two moments from laughing. So you grin back at him, careful to show off your teeth, and step in close. "I absolutely person I am a person fucker," you say, earnest, holding out a hand, palm up. Then you curl the rest of your fingers in, until only your smallest one is out. "Pinkie promise, dude."

"You've talked about fucking my mum too much for me to shake hands," he says. "Sorry about that."

But he's still grinning as he starts walking, and when you laugh, he joins right in.

The underbelly of CC-R's much like the rest of it: wet, damp, and, as it turns out, totally moldy. There's webs everywhere as you walk, coating the biowire and the ceiling. ("It's to waterproof it," Afzudi says, and you're so glad you don't mind bugs.) But at least the mold's glowing, adding an uneven sort of light to things, just enough to make the shadows longer and deeper, and catch on all sixteen of eyes of the spiders that keep passing you by.

And eventually, shortly after the pressure shifts and your ears pop, you get to the core.

The helms, as it turns out, aren't any healthier than anyone else on this Rickshaw. It's the opposite! It’s.. honestly one of the most appalling things you’ve ever seen. Back on II-J, you keep your engines healthy, with columns that you replace annually, trolls trained up each cohort cycle specifically to work on them, and wire that’s custom bred to work with their systems. The whole system is hale enough that you don’t even have to run diagnostics: the engines’ll run their own diagnostics and e-mail them to you each week, keeping an eye on each one’s levels and needs, because it knows that each one will get a response.

The helms here don’t look like they could send messages, even if they wanted to. Each engine barely looks like it’s even alive. They’re hanging from the wires like skeletons, their arms bone-thin, the bodies bloodless and stark under the gray-white skin. There’s ash forming on them, like no one bothers to take care of them. There’s mats in the hair, like no one’s ever even thought to shave it.

"Holy shit," you breathe, and Afzudi starts to laugh, say something - then he catches sight of your face.

"Ah -"

You don't wait to hear what he's trying to say. You're striding forward, taking the first helm firmly by the chin and pulling its head down. It's so limp that there's no reaction when you pull an eyelid back. There's streaks all the way through it, black creeping like rot through the yellow of its sclera. When you release the lid, it takes a full five seconds for the skin to fall back down, and when you pinch the skin of its cheek, it doesn't even react.

It's so blanched, you're not even sure what blood colour it is. There's only the fuchsia of where the biowires cut into the skin, and the liquid flooding the veins pink.

The next one isn't any better.

You're not sure, at first, what you're feeling. There's just a certain cold numbness as you step from one column to the next, moving carefully to avoid the wires strewn across the floor. Because that's the only word for them. There's shards of scaffolding on the ceiling, jagged strips of metal where it once must've been, but it's long since folded under the weight of the wires. And the wires are everywhere. They're tangled in masses connecting the columns. They're stretching heavy across the walls, thick enough to pass as wallpaper, and oozing a viscuous pink slime that sticks to your boots as you walk.

It's hard to see where the floor end and the wires begin. Tripping down here's inevitable, really, and that's why, on your way to the seventh helm, your boot finally catches under one, and you fall directly into it.

The worst part of it all is that the helm doesn't react. It's a twiggy little thing, and you fall full-force into it, your hand scrambling at the jumpsuit just to keep yourself up. Your claws hook in, tearing into the fabric, and it's only last minute horror that makes you jerk your chin up, angling your horns back and away from them. It just means your face hits it instead, landing right in its ribcage.

It should've made it howl. When you scramble to your feet and back, there's heat blossoming across your face, and there's brown blossoming on their newly exposed skin. But all they manage is a languid blink, like someone stirring from sleep.

And the chill forming in your chest finally solidifies when they fall still.

"Are you okay?" Afzudi calls. He's still lingering by the door, watching you. From this distance, his face's a blur of darkness.

"Yeah." You're walking over, more careful this time, but Afzudi doesn't know you well enough to recognise the flat edge to your voice. He's only met you a handful of times. The other Rickshaws change leaders too often for them to really know each other: you're one of the only ones that's actually stayed the same, the past four sweeps. "I'm fine. You're going to need serious work down here. The biowire needs seriously cut back - that'll take about eight perigees to avoid shock, and then you'll need to start training it to stay in the scaffolds again. New scaffolds, obviously. Like, your helms need a full treatment, for the veins and the overall."

"The columns need rebuilt. I can do all of this, obviously, but - what brand is all of this, redHotx20? I'm not even going to bother running a diagnoistic, you've got voidrot trying to spread all the way through the lines. You plug in any bugs to this, or a technomancer, and all you're going to do is infect your tech. And -"

Afzudi reaches out, takes you by your shoulder. He's got long, calloused fingers, with gently tapered edges. They match the rest of him, rail thin and delicate in the same way. "You're sure about all of that?"

"Absolutely," you tell him. It's a shame. You'd liked him. "I'm thinking three hundred thousand, max, but at least one hundred and fifty, for all the work I'm going to have to do. And that's just supplies. I'll thread in some of our cultivar, but the medical work your engines are going to need alone is insane. And it's all going to have to be manual."

".. we don't have the money for that." He blinks at you, owlish. You'd thought he was handsome a few minutes ago, with his cheekbones and his frailty, but there's something repugnant about that weakness now. "We'll just get new helms," he says. "We have plenty of psionics on the rickshaw. It's their duty."

"Uh, no. You're not going to go and kill your people to play engine parts, when we've got the mainland right there, and reputable engine sellers, like, literally everywhere. Like, how do you not have the money, dude? CC-R's the biggest Rickshaw in the ocean. You have markets every perigee. Are you saying you can't pull together a few hundred thousand to keep your city from sinking?"

He can't even stop his people from starving. Of course he can't.

"II-J doesn't sell. You don't understand how it works," he says smoothly, like you're a pupa, and when your eyebrows shoot up, he shrugs. "It's not an insult. It's just a fact."

"I don't need to sell to manage a fucking budget. Show me your books, and I'll figure out how you can get the money together." He's already shaking his head before you finish. "Let me help you," you say, frustrated. "That's what you brought me here for. I don't know what you're doing wrong, but, like - your people are starving, dude. And your Rickshaw is dying, all the way down to your goddamn helms. Like, what the fuck?"

"I think," he says, "you need to leave. I appreciate your help, but -"

It's a shame, because you really, really liked him.

You don't like bullying smaller trolls. But he makes it easy. When he pulls his hand back, you snatch him by the collar and you slam him into the wall, one swift move that pins him right against his mother's webbing. She hisses next to you, surging forward, but you tut at her, pressing your hand harder against his collar.

He squeaks. She backs up, her two front legs rising in obvious distress.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, "that I'm having to shame you in front of your mom like this, dude. And I'm sorry that you thought this was a conversation. But it's not. Either you're going to listen to me, or else your entire Rickshaw is going to sink. Or else I'm going to spare your people, and sink it for you. Because this -"

You jerk a hand towards the helms. Everything on this Rickshaw is dying, from the buildings to the residents to the engines themselves, and -

You absolutely want to burn this entire place to the ground. But it turns out you do care about the other Rickshaws, more than you'd ever thought you could.

"- this is not acceptable. And you should know that. You're supposed to be the leader of this place. You chose to take on these responsibilities. You made this fucking choice!" You take a step forward. Your voice's dropping. It's not that you're unaware of his lusus right next to you, or the building tension in her body. But you know how lusii work. How many times have you used their desire to protect their charges against them?

And right now, you've got him pinned like a fly against her own webbing.

Afzudi looks at you. "You're supposed to protect them," you tell him, gazing into his eyes. "So, like, let me help you, and do your fucking job, man."

Then he holds up a hand. His lusus quiets, flattening herself to the ground in a clatter of keratin. "Fine," he says. "What do we have to do?"

#[prose]#calico kuanfu #[drabbles]#inktober #cw body horror

1 note · View note

travelingthroughtimejjs · 3 years

Text

High school- and friends

When i went through that first enlightenment period of my life, I realized I didn’t really have much money. Sure my dad paid for me to participate in sports and stuff but I didn't have money of my own and couldn’t really get the things that I wanted in life. So I worked my ass off doing just random small jobs for my dad’s friends and at home to earn money, I was always working to try and make myself into something.

I saved up enough to buy my first iPhone in grade 8 and bought myself a longboard, which were big purchases for me back then. I applied to get my young workers certificate the day I turned 14 and gave a resume to every single store in cornerstone. My resume was shit, I hadn't done anything at that point in my life besides raise money for relay for life and volunteer at the SPCA for 6 months. I only heard back from one place, Sobey’s and they laughed at me when I told them I was 14. So there went that dream.

In grade 9 my friend groups started to blend. All these people coming together from different backgrounds in one place. Being the social butterfly that I am, I tried to make a friendship with every single person in the grade. I actually think I did a pretty good job of this within those 4 years, I can say I had some sort of relationship with almost every single person by the end of grade 12.

It also gave me the opportunity for my friends to meet each other, I introduced people like Short and Matt to the people that I’ve been hanging out with for years. I became really close with Corrigal and our friend group hungout almost every single day together. There were a lot of us but we would have our own parties and get together to drink at someone’s house almost every weekend. The guys I was closest with at this point were Josh, Liam, Matt, Tyler, Jaxon, Jeremy (who I just met), Reese, Corrigal, Short and although he was still in elementary school kept a relationship with Rhys.

The girls in our group were also pretty cool back then, spent time with Kate, Taryn, Nikki, Sydney, Selena, Billie and Cami.

I didn’t really try the hardest in school until grade 12, I was more so focused on having fun and my sports.

Throughout the years the girls started to care less about us and were doing their own thing. I started making some friendships with some other guys that I didn’t ever have the opportunity before like Crawf and Fuzz.

My mom was really reflecting on her health and she knew we were going to be leaving soon so she let me throw huge 100 person parties in our basement a couple times in grade 9. Pretty wild for some 14/15 year olds.

At this time I started kind of getting into the dating scene, nothing ever really came out of it but I was learning. I couldn’t drive at this point but I started going on date’s with a girl named Emma. I would pay to go golfing, go to the movies, we’d go play tennis or we would just hangout at one of our houses. We were even posting pictures on our social media together. Seemed like everything was going good until she randomly texted me one day saying that we couldn’t keep seeing each other, it was pretty random but I went with it. We still hungout from time to time after, even went on a few more dates but nothing came from it. I later found out that her reasoning was that I was too short for her, which was honestly pretty valid because she was 6 foot tall and I was 5 foot 7 haha.

Everyday after school Jaxon and Tyler would come over to my house and we would watch hours of Netflix together practice beer pong in my basement. That changed at the end of grade 9, Matt had asked me if I wanted to come volunteer with him at an event at the Co-op where he worked, of course I said yes because I didn’t really have much going on ever besides working out. I met the HR person from the Co-op at this event, Matthew, and he loved how charismatic I was, asked me if I wanted a job at the Co-op with Matt. I was super happy because the prior year I tried so hard to find a job.

I worked my ass off at the co-op. Matt left after a couple months of me being there which meant I was the only student left around to close the Meat department. That meant I was going in after football practice for 3 hours to do all the intensive cleaning. As you can see, school still wasn’t my biggest priority. I wanted to buy a vehicle so i worked as much as I could. This was in grade 10.

Grade 10 was a pretty big year for the boys. We ventured out from our small group parties into huge parties, the rookie party era started and the boys weren’t shy about going out. We went to everything, no matter what. I always said I wasn’t going to let work interfere with my social life so I would show up to the Co-op absolutely drunk as fuck still from the night before on multiple occurrences. But the boys meant so much to me that it was worth ti every time. At every party you could find me talking to people’s parents, building relationships with everyone I could. I grew especially close with Jeremy and Liam at this point and we did basically everything together. I still maintained my brotherhood with Josh, a task I always found easy no matter how different of things we were doing. Grade 10 I became pretty close friends with Dyllen. Tyler wasn’t really associated with our group due to fucking up too many times.

I also continued with my relationship building skills. I wanted to be remembered by every single person, so I put in so much effort into getting to know people deep down and trying to actually become their friend, asking them the real questions. I did this especially with my teachers at school, I was always asking them about their life at home and I got some really personal stories from teachers like Mme Chan, Miss Welter and Mr. Germs. I think I earned the respect of every teacher in high school. At the same time I was still my attention seeking self and wanted to be heard in class. I volunteered to read every time the class was asked upon and tried to crack some well timed jokes. At work I learned so much from the adults there and got basically their whole life stories. I loved to learn about other people, it made them feel special and it built a strong connection with them.

They started hiring more young people at Co-op around this time. I made some awesome friendships with people like Zach, Dante and Ivan. Especially Zach though, we would spend every single break together either going for lunch or playing baseball behind the store.

I had my second real thing with a girl in the summer between grade 10 and grade 11. Her name was Brooklyn. Dyllen was dating her best friend Jaici at the time and had invited me up to Brooklyn’s cabin to hangout for the July long weekend. I was off from work and thought we might as well go. I met Brooklyn and we hit it off instantly. She was fresh off a breakup though so I wanted to give her some space. She ended up getting back together with her boyfriend after a couple weeks and we obviously stopped talking. Then when her and her boyfriend broke up again she texted me immediately. This was right at the beginning of grade 11 and we spent a lot of days hanging out together, with Dyllen and Jaici some of those times. She wasn’t ready for anything serious so we just eventually stopped talking. She ended up dating Matt a few years later.

A lot of the same old at the beginning of grade 11. For me, playing football, partying and spending time with the boys. I loved it, formed so many good relationships with those guys. I became really close to Rahman at this point. Halloween of that year my life changed drastically, but I’ll write more about that later. I started dating Eden and that meant my time with the boys plummeted. I was super busy at this point in my life. I was playing basketball 6 times a week, playing hockey 2-4 times a week and working every Sunday. I somehow balanced it all but lost touch with the boys because of it.

Long weekends were always such a special time for our group. Everyone would take the weekends off from work and gather at the lake for a weekend of catching up. They really kept the boys together in a way that is hard to describe. For me I almost didn’t play spring football one year so that I could go to May Long but I got talked into playing from the coaches. Aug long was my time to shine and I always appreciated Rhys’ and Corrigals’s hospitality towards me.

The end of grade 11 was the second huge reflective moment of my life. I needed to figure out what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be. My career choice at the time was to be an architect based off of Ted Mosbey from How I Met Your Mother. I was taking a drafting and design class and I loved it, took all three levels (10, 20, and 30). I needed to figure out how I was going to turn into it into my career, so my choice was to apply for Engineering at the University of Saskatchewan and specialize in structural engineering and then move on to the University of Calgary to get a degree in architecture. I started trying extremely hard in school to set myself up for this path. Jaxon and his girlfriend also broke up when we were in grade 11 and the guy has never been the same since.

I was working almost full time at co-op, while still participating in my spring sports and didn’t have as much for the boys due to me trying hard in school now with that other stuff. I didn’t have any money to go to school, maybe 5000, which wouldn’t get me far so I needed to keep working.

In grade 11 my grandpa had died and although I saw it coming and was extremely sad, he left me 5000, this money really helped me get my education.

In grade 12 I was the biggest try hard in school, and I was getting awesome marks because of it, as good as I really could get while playing a bunch of sports and still working a bunch. But I also came to a realization that all those relationships I had worked so hard on for those 4 years were going to come to an end, I wouldn’t be able to see the same people everyday and have those real conversations with them. I started going out a bunch again in grade 12 because that was what I felt I needed to do to hold onto those relationships. It was tough to balance everything but I always made it work.

Billie and Cami were still super good friends of mine throughout all of high school and we sat together in every class. I was going to ask Cami to grad but she ended up asking Rhys before I had the chance.

Grade 12 I formed the tightest bond I think I ever had with Josh even after knowing him for so long, we had such similar career paths in mind that we helped each other strive towards them. That’s when Jackson came along so become one of my best friends, although his work ethic was a little different than ours, he was naturally smarter and didn’t have to work to the same degree, he still had very similar ambitions that helped us grow together towards our goal. We all planned our university lives together and spent a bunch of time as a group, we planned to find a place together. Our original plan was to get a place at College Quarters but when I called to ask about the availability when we got accepted in January, they had said that the application deadline was in November so we were way too late. Thank God though because the situation we found ourselves in was a million times better. At co-op they hired a kid named Lucas who I took under my wing and made a really good friend of mine.

Me, Josh and Jackson were so set on this goal of moving to Saskatoon and we knew it wasn’t going to be cheap, when the graduating class was all pushing the idea that we should go to Mexico as a grad trip, the three of us initially decided against it. We were thinking that 2000 could mean two months of living in Saskatoon. I think I was the first one to come to the realization and I brought it to the boys. We were NEVER going to have an opportunity like that again, so we signed up. I was lucky because my dad and Nicole combined some money together and gave me 1100$ to go. The trip ended up being around 3000 by the same all the money was spent there, but I don’t regret it one bit.

Grad retreat was a super special day to me. One last effort to spend time with all the people that I tried to befriend throughout my 4 years. I’ll never forget that big tackle football game the boys had going on. It was also an opportunity to let everyone know how grateful we were. I wrote so many notes and dropped them on peoples baskets for them to read later. I still go back and read the notes people wrote me at least once a year.

At graduation time all the work I put into my relationships was finally coming together. I received the highest valued scholarship at the St Mary Grad ceremony, I was getting really nervous because as the list dwindled down my name wasn’t getting called and i really thought I wasn’t going to win anything. But there it came, the last scholarship 2 500 to the person who displayed what it’s like to lead in all aspects of life. All the teachers had voted me this person, I didn’t have the best marks in our class, I had a 94% average in grade 12, there were about 20 people with higher averages than that but at the end of the day it was my personality that had me winning, maybe not deservingly so because there were a lot of brilliant people who were also leaders in different ways. I also won a 500 $ scholarship from the Kinsmen Club Prince Albert for being a community leader and then 250 $ for having the highest average in Drafting and Design 30 (in which I was the only student). I also got a 700$ scholarship from the co-op that i worked at. Pair those winnings with the 2000$ entrance scholarship I got from the U of S, I was capable of attending university. I had about 7000 saved from the co-op, 5500 in scholarship money and the 5000 from my grandpa’s inheritance, this was enough to take me through the first couple of years.

0 notes

thepricecaulfield · 7 years

Text

Some thoughts about the relationships between Chloe & Rachel and Chloe & Max

I want to start with that this is my entrypost into this tumblr world. I posted here and there, youtube, reddit, discords, steam, elsewhere, mostly sat there and listened and wrote small texts, not big walls of texts, like this one is going to be.

I’m insecure if I should have posted this, but well, I give it a try, it is a text filled with analysis, personal experience and some theories, I tried to clear that in the path.

Warning! Spoilers ahead for LiS and BtS!

Here you go:

First of all: Pricefield and Amberprice are both valid ships, I prefer Pricefield and stay there, forever.

Chloe and Max harmonize in many ways, like Yin-Yang, they are total opposites of each other. They had a deep relationship (friendshipwise, platonic) in their childhood and were at their edge to puberty, but it wasn’t meant to unfold because of dramatic changes in their lifes: Williams death - Chloe in grief, not able to overcome that trauma, Max leaving her (Not on intention.). Max on the otherhand may (My opinion, since we have no proof, but when we take her psychical condition into account.) had the same problems, since she refers to William as her second father to her, so she may suffered also from grief and pain and was not able to handle all of this and how to comfort her best friend.

The Max and Chloe comeout is building up more slowly in LiS1, more deeply in my point of view. Max is insecure, not sure what her feelings are, I tend to say she has zero experience with sexuality in general and has no clue what she is into (f/f or f/m). She has some sort of developmental disability (such as High Functioning Autism/Asperger Syndrome), as she is in an IEP (Individualized Education Program, a program usually reserved for students with said condition) according to her Student File. She feels guilty for leaving Chloe and there is always this “Rachel Amber” reference in front of her during those five days. That makes things complicated as well. And we have the circumstances of a mistery around us and that Max is building up a lot of feelings towards Chloe later on.

When we have the chance to kiss Chloe the first time, Chloe is not shocked, but overrun, not expecting that Max is actually doing it. When we did the right things, Chloes smartphone background is replaced with a picture of Max. Several dialogs point into the direction that Chloe is interested in Max in a way, Max is not thinking of first. Some moves and dialogs of Chloe during the first episodes also hint in that direction (”Same sex marriage” dialog/messages for example.) The pool scene is the first real direct hint what Chloe is up too in my eyes.

The relationship/come out builds up more slowly, Chloe on guard somehow, but interested in Max. Max seems to get comfortable with the situation over the course of the episodes when we follow her diary.

The Both have a deep relationship as stated before from her childhood, that was overshadowed, but it was rekindled, since it never really broke, and I tend to say, that Chloe was into Max already before LiS, but in her heart. The dream sequences from BtS where William hints into the direction that a greater beauty is yet to come after he warns Chloe of the fire and shows her the sky filled with stars maybe the hint.

Rachel, I don’t hate her, but I don’t like her either in some way. She is elusive in many ways. The whole BtS plot reminds me of my own teenage time, first love, fulled by passion, a short episode, built to last not long enough. Passion is the keyword in here. Rachel crashes in there with passion, shows up on scene for Chloe, when she needs someone the most. And Chloe falls for it. I know this feelings, when you are alone, lost beloved people, in grief and pain shrouding your mind, puberty and adolescence is complicating everything, your whole world is burning and breaking apart.

An interesting part is, that Chloe is saying the following words to Joyce during her conversation after the Firewalk concert: “And sometimes, when we’re incredibly desperate and lonely, we choose the absolute wrong kind of people to let into our hearts…..” - this is somehow blowing my mind, since she just ignores her own words a few hours later.

Chloe has major/minor mental issues and falls easily for someone like Rachel. Rachel seems perfect, but is broken inside. But she is manipulating people around her to her needs to a certain degree with great sucess. She is flipping switches as needed and attracts people she is interested in. I think she can be considered as being in her playphase, not sure what she is about sexualy and eager to find out what she is into, so she is willing to test it out with Chloe. But I pretend to say, that she is not gay, but more considered to be bi-sexual during her teenage years or later on when Frank and Mr. Jefferson get into play out of her experimenting phase. I know some people who had those phases in their teenage years between 14-17 and found their sexual identity not before they were 18. (Proud to say I know some gay women/men/transgender/bi-sexuals who found their identity and had their coming out.)

Several ppl analyzed the Tempest scene and mentioned that the roles where chosen perfect, that Chloe is a hostage to Rachel, mentally. I tend to say they are right.

Quote: “First things first: a tempest is a storm, the title of this mini-series is Before the Storm, and in Life is Strange, Arcadia Bay is about to be decimated by a giant storm that Max spends the latter half of the game trying to prevent from happening. This connection is obvious. Furthermore, all three episode titles for Before the Storm are references to quotes from The Tempest:

“Awake” references the Act I, Scene 2 call to Miranda from Prospero: “Awake, dear heart, awake! Thou hast slept well. Awake!” “Brave New World” is from Miranda’s speech in Act V, Scene I: “O brave new world, That has such people in’t!” “Hell is Empty” is from a much-quoted scene with Ariel in Act I, Scene 2: “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

Prospero is the architect of all that occurs around him, manipulating the relationship between Miranda and Ferdinand, and using the spirit Ariel and Caliban to mess with his shipwrecked enemies. He is the person who shapes the story of The Tempest, from creating the storm to treating other characters like puppets.” (Full article here: http://fandom.wikia.com/articles/life-is-strange-before-the-storm-the-tempest / There are many more articles about this around that state the same since the roles of Rachel and Chloe are given and the represent somehow the same roles in the play like they do in their life.)

Rachel can be seen as manipulative in that she charms everyone around her — her teachers, her classmates, and most of all, Chloe. She is the focal point that moves the story of Before the Storm forward. Rachel is also the thing that brings Max and Chloe together in the original Life is Strange, with her absence and the mystery around it bringing the two together.

Chloe builds up an emotional und psychic dependence (I tend to say borderline obsession.) for Rachel and Rachel sticks to that. She wants to be a rebel with Chloe and get out of Arcadia Bay pretty fast. But she tends to go her ways and switch ships to her needs later. Frank is one ship, and the Jefferson ship is real to, there is that crumbled letter on the junkyard. (http://life-is-strange.wikia.com/wiki/Rachel_Amber?file=RachelChloeLetter.png) (http://i.imgur.com/0f9UIFB.jpg)

Rachel is Chloes angel for the moment, her saviour for a short time, but not for the greater good. The realtionship they build up is not going to last long without severe damage for Chloes psychic health. The dependence Chloe is driving into is not healthy for her, but she gets there easily.

But we know from the third dream scene vom BtS that William predicted, that there will be a greater beauty to come and that Chloe has to be cautious because of the fire. The theme behind this dream is not truly clear, but many people back the theory, that William warns her about Rachel.

What I believe is that this is the truth and that the greater beauty to come is a reference to Max.

To summarize it:

Max & Chloe have a pure, deep and sure true love going on, build upon something they can rely: They complement each other with their traits and help each other to become better selfs. Chloes gets back into track, trying to beging a better life and keep her feet on the ground, Max gains selfconfidence, breaking the shell around her.

Rachel & Chloe have a passionate, stormy, and sure emotional love going on, build upon…..well, I don’t really know: They both corrupt each in some ways/many ways, Chloe infects Rachel with her rebellion to certain degrees and Rachel creates a dependency on Chloe that makes her easy to manipulate and worse, leaves her with this tendency of always putting Rachel first, basically not focusing on her own life that is a real mess.

Thanks for reading.

#life is strange #chloe price #max caulfield #pricefield #chloeprice #maxcaulfield #amberprice #rachel amber #before the storm #lifeisstrange #lis #lis bts

40 notes · View notes

fashnsu · 4 years

Text

Beauty - Need to Re-Discover It?

The mettle of our times seems to no longer importance beauty.

Prince Charles was talking to the Royal Institute of British Architects at the occasion of their 150th anniversary about the proposed extending of the National Gallery.

"What is proposed is like a monstrous carbuncle on the fronts of a scads loved and elegant friend." (Prince of Wales)

He had seen much British arrangement as sterile and plain ugly.

Is this still true? And do we deficiency to re-discover praise around us?

Defining beauty When we see something beautiful its brightness is subjectively felt. Yet, the thought of honor and ugliness is elusive and difficult to put into libretto and define. Perhaps this is because of individual difference in our homage of it. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What one person discovery beautiful, another merely sentimental. One, attractive, another repulsive.

Beauty has been said to be something to do with appreciating harmony, balance, rhythm. It captures our attention, satisfying and cultivation the mind.

It is not the aim depicted by art that defines whether something is beautiful or ugly. Instead it is how the items is dealt with that makes it possibly inspirational.

Spiritual philosopher Emanuel Swedenborg suggests that what arouses our uptake that a human fronts is beautiful is not the disguise itself, but the affection shining from it. It is the spiritual within the natural that stirs our affections, not the natural on its own.

"The honor of a woman is not in a facial position but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives; the brilliance that she shows. The splendor of a woman grows with the passing years." (Audrey Hepburn)

Beauty tins also occur even in suffering.

"Even in some of the hordes painful moments I've witnessed as a doctor, I discovery a sense of beauty... That our sense are wired to register another person's pain, to lack to be moved by it and do something approx it, is profoundly heartening." (Physician-poet Rafael Campo)

Creative art Roger Scruton, philosopher, points out that between 1750 and 1930 the cause of art or singing was beauty. People saw praise as valuable as deed and goodness. Then in the 20th century it stopped entity important. Then dozens artists aimed to disturb, tremor and to intermission moral taboos. The earliest of these was Marcel Duchamp e.g. his installation of a urinal. It was not beauty, but originality and irony and other intellectual theory that they focused on. This is what won the prizes no concern the moral cost.

The art world now believes that those who seeming for glory in art, are just out of touch with modern realities. Since the land is disturbing, art should be turmoil too. Yet I would suggest that what is shocking first time round is uninspiring and dent when repeated.

"If the den is so ugly, what's the spunk of making it even uglier with ugly music?... I have tried to makes it sound as beautiful as I can. Otherwise what's the point... So if you action to hear how ugly the modern world is,... you can just switch on the hit and listen to the news. But I pondering that mass clan go to coordination because they requirement to hear beautiful music. Music full of melodies that you can busyness or sing. Music that speaks to the heart. Music that destitution to type you poverty to smile or cry or dance. (Alma Deutscher, 12 year old harmony violinist/pianist)

If there are still any artists creating beautiful thing of art, I suspect, like any good news in the newspapers, they are not getting the headlines.

Awakening to the spiritual In supplements to much of our contemporary art and built environment, tins we also detect a grating unattractiveness - not to attention self-centeredness and enormity - now entryways into the language and suitability shown in our herd media? As though praise has no longer any actuality place in our lives.

So when we discovery ourselves in the misfortune of negativity, do we give us time to be open to beauty?

"What is this existence if, full of care,

We have no time to pedestal and stare...

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to ambush till her gossip can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to foundation and stare. (William Henry Davies)

Effect on ourselves of cultural change I'm wondering if by losing splendor we are also losing something else. Something I would describe as a deeper perception of what is good and innocent in life.

Scruton suggests that accordance without this deeper finding is like stronghold in a spiritual desert. He argues that the artists of the past were aware that existence was full of chaos and suffering. But they had a medication for this and the medication was beauty. He reckons that the beautiful maintenance of art brings consolation in sorrow and affirmation in joy. It shows human existence to be worth-while.

Beauty - A reminder of transcendent reality Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But is splendor only a subjective thing? Is there also an significance actuality to it?

Perhaps we assignment to re-visit the wisdom of the ancients. According to Plato, beauty, like justice, and goodness, is an eternally existing entity. He said it eternally exists, regardless of replacing social conceptions and circumstances. This would mean that splendor has existed even when there was no one around to notice it.

It takes millions of age for clarification to travel the vast ways to reach our telescopes. So we now see the glory of the stars as they were before human creature existed.

I would opinion praise is something, that at its heart, has the reality of naivete - the naivete of absolute Love Itself.

"Beauty is truth, truism beauty, that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye poverty to know." (John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn)

As a clinical psychologist, Stephen Russell-Lacy has specialised in cognitive-behavioural psychotherapy, undertaking for many era with adults ailments ailments and disturbance.

He edits Spiritual Questions a free eZine that explores links between spiritual philosophy and the comments and controversy of spiritual seekers. You can slices your views and finds out more closely arrangement brains of life.

His eBook Heart, Head and Hands gully links between the psycho-spiritual education of the eighteenth century spiritual philosopher Emanuel Swedenborg and turning plan in convention and psychology.

For more about https://supperfashion.com/product-category/beauty/

0 notes

the-desolated-quill · 7 years

Text

Time Heist - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Oh God, Stephen Thompson is writing this. No. Worse. Stephen Thompson and Steven Moffat are writing this! Heaven preserve us!

Well everyone can relax. Time Heist isn’t as bad as The Curse Of The Black Spot or Journey To The Centre Of The TARDIS. In fact Time Heist is actually surprisingly good. Well... it’s good up to a point, but we’ll come to that.

It’s a great premise. The Doctor and Clara are joined by augmented human Psi and shapeshifter Saibra to rob the bank of Karabraxos. The most secure bank in the galaxy. It’s a brilliant opening with some proper sci-fi in it. (I particularly like the little detail of using your breath to open code locked doors). And then there’s of course the Teller. LOVE it! It’s a great design for one thing and its powers are incredibly scary. It can sense your guilt and turn your brain into soup. Very creepy, although sadly undermined by the image of those people with their heads flattened. Ms Delphox puts them on display as a warning, but all it did was just make me snigger. Come on, you have to admit they do look just a little bit silly.

I also really like Ms Delphox, played by Keeley Hawes. While she does unfortunately get saddled with Moffat’s dominatrix dialogue and persona just like all of Moffat’s other female characters do, Hawes does such a good job in the role and really makes the part her own. She has such an authoritative presence on screen and is clearly having a lot of fun in the role. I particularly like how Delphox isn’t just evil for the sake of being evil. Due to the bank’s ultra strict security system and protocols, if Delphox fails to catch the robbers, she will be incinerated by her boss. It’s something different, which is nice.

Time Heist has a really good pace, Everything zips along very nicely and I was glued to the screen for the most part. I also really liked the characterisation. Top of the class is of course Peter Capaldi. He’s absolutely brilliant in this episode, capturing the Doctor at his very essence. Despite the fact Psi and Saibra know absolutely nothing about him and have no reason to trust him or take orders from him, the Doctor is able to take charge using the sheer force of his intellect and personality. Peter Capaldi is the Doctor. I also loved the scene where he rebukes Psi for accusing him of being cold and emotionless about Saibra’s ‘death.’ The Doctor has always been one to prioritise the job at hand over mourning the loss of someone, but this Doctor really doesn’t wish to be bogged down in sentimentality. Nine and Ten often express their grief with a brief sorry before moving on, whereas Twelve seems to prefer to keep it all to himself and just get on with things. He may seem uncaring, but his face when he’s walking away from Psi speaks volumes. He does care very deeply. He just doesn’t want to express it. The other characters are good as well. Out of the two I think I like Psi more. Johnathan Bailey does a really good job in the role and I like his motive for breaking into the bank. Wanting to reclaim the lost memories of his friends and family. And the scene where he sacrifices himself to save Clara was very effective. Saibra was good too and Pippa Bennett-Warner gives a good performance, but her motivation is a bit weak. Okay, I get the whole thing about shapeshifting every time she touches someone, but what’s the deal with this line:

“How could you trust someone who looked back at you out of your own eyes?”

Wha... What does that mean exactly? It sounds like typical pretentious Moffat bullshit to me.

Also Clara is pointless. Seriously, why is she even here? What role does she play? The Doctor is clearly the leader (and secretly the Architect). Psi is the hacker. Saibra is the shapeshifter. What’s Clara’s role? She’s not even the Doctor’s moral compass like in Into The Dalek. She’s basically just tagging along for the ride. If there was ever an episode that perfectly demonstrated how utterly useless and one dimensional Clara really is, it’s this one.

Yeah, I suppose I can’t put this off any longer. While there are large portions of Time Heist I did enjoy, a lot of the episode is sadly hampered by Moffat and Thompson’s usual sloppiness. Since we’ve just been talking about the characters, let’s talk about the ‘exit strategy.’ Presumably a way for the characters to painlessly kill themselves should the Teller discover them. A very dark idea, but also a completely ineffectual one thanks to its execution. If you’ve seen any sci-fi ever, you’ll know what a teleport looks like, and the fact that the effect we see when Saibra and Psi use the shredders look suspiciously like teleports does negatively impact the tragedy of their ‘death’ scenes because, in the back of your head, you’re wondering where they’ve gone off too and when they’ll be coming back. But even if you didn’t pick up on that, it still doesn’t work because their surprise return effectively undermines their sad and touching deaths in order for Moffat to pull a ‘gotcha’ moment.

Then there’s the Architect. Who here honestly thought he wasn’t the Doctor? It’s such a painfully obvious twist. He’s a time traveller, like the Doctor. He has access to memory worms, like the Doctor. They even chuck in a massive clunker of a clue by having the Doctor outright state he hates the Architect. Since when has the Doctor ever said that about anyone? He can’t even admit he hates the Daleks for fuck sake. The only possible person he could be referring to is himself, at which point you soon realise that this episode isn’t about a bank heist at all. It’s yet another episode that’s all about the Doctor, this time about his self loathing and manipulative tendencies. And it actually reduces the stories of Psi, Saibra and the Teller because you realise that the only purpose they serve is to shine a light on the Doctor. Loneliness bad, companionship good. This is the fifth story in a row that has focused exclusively on the Doctor. Anymore and the show is seriously at risk of disappearing up its own vortex. Why can’t the episode have just been about the Doctor breaking into a bank and saving Mr and Mrs Teller? I like that idea. It’s something different and it’s a very Doctorly motivation for breaking into a bank. Why does everything have to be so inwardly focused nowadays? I don’t mind the odd episode that explores the Doctor’s character (provided it’s done well), but this is taking the piss.

And then there’s all the plot contrivances. For the most secure bank in the galaxy, its security is unbelievably shit. Putting aside the almost comically oversized vents that anyone can comfortably crawl through, how come the guards seem to be searching for the intruders everywhere but near the fucking Vault where the valuables are kept? You’d think Delphox would post a couple at the door or something just in case. And what about the scene where the Doctor and Clara are captured? Before Delphox set the Teller on a random person that was just guilty for a crime he was about to commit. But with the Doctor and Clara, Delphox decides to take the Teller away for a little nap and let the guards deal with them instead. Why? But what really spoils Time Heist completely are the two gaping plot holes at the centre of the narrative.

The first is the solar storm. This is the only time the bank is vulnerable, but it’s also the only time the TARDIS can’t land. Well... why don’t you just land the TARDIS at a time when there isn’t a solar storm? The Doctor said it himself at the beginning. Robbing a bank is easy if you’ve got a TARDIS. In fact I’m assuming that was how he planted all the briefcases. If he could do that, why not just materialise the TARDIS right inside the Private Vault, grab Mr and Mrs Teller and go? You wouldn’t even need to bother with the memory worms. The second plot hole is Madame Karabraxos (also played by Keeley Hawes). So what sets all of this in motion is a dying Karabraxos from the future phoning the Doctor and begging him to save the Tellers. The entire plot hinges on the Doctor giving her his phone number and then just hoping she’ll miraculously grow a conscience and realise what a horrible, selfish bitch she was when she has no reason to. (yes i know there’s the whole self loathing thing with the clones, but that’s really not good enough. It also doesn’t make any sense. if you hate yourself so much, why would you create clones of yourself in the first place?) It’s also completely reliant on Karabraxos not losing the phone number, except why in God’s name would she keep it? At this moment in time, she has no reason to take the Doctor seriously yet and clearly has no interest in redemption just yet, so why hang on to the phone number? It’s absolute nonsense.

Like I said, there are a few things about Time Heist I liked and I did enjoy it to a point, but what ultimately holds it back from greatness is Thompson’s usual ineptness when it comes to basic storytelling as well as Moffat once again putting more effort into trying to outsmart the audience and prove how clever he is rather than writing something that’s actually satisfying and worthwhile. Overall, good idea, but sloppy execution.

#time heist #stephen thompson #steven moffat #doctor who #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi #clara oswald #jenna coleman #bbc #review #spoilers

6 notes · View notes

bughead-fic-request · 7 years

Text

Leave A Message: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: AU, After a night of heavy drinking, Betty Cooper realizes she’s left a series of revealing messages on her crush and roommate, Jughead Jones’s phone.

Words: 1,600

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing, sexual dialogue but mostly embarrassing fluff.

A/N: I’ve edited this myself so I apologize for errors.

Betty Cooper’s head was pounding. She had made the mistake of going out with her roommates Cheryl Blossom and Veronica Lodge to celebrate the end of finals. Now she was sitting at their kitchen island cradling a cup of coffee, trying to figure out if IHOP delivered.

“Good Morning!” Cheryl sang as she skipped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her luscious red was piled up on top of her head and her skin was glowing. She looked like an angel not someone who had partied hard the night before. “How are you?” She asked Betty.

“I’m so hungover” Betty groaned resting her head on her arms. “I’ve never been this hungover.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn't have done all those shots of Liquid Cocaine.” Cheryl chuckled and began taking out a few frying pans. “You want some bacon and eggs?” She asked.

“I do!” Veronica answered, her silk black robe trailing behind her matching her beautiful black hair. She walked up to Cheryl and gave her a soft kiss. Cheryl and Veronica had been dating since before they had left Riverdale and their relationship was goals.

“How are you guys not hungover?” Betty asked.

“We didn’t do three shots of tequila and then perform a Coyote Ugly style dance on the bar. You drank so much you should be dead.” Veronica informed.

“I wish I was dead.” Betty said sliding off her stool and laid on the floor. “The tile is so cold. I love the tile.”

“You’ve seen better days, Cooper.” Jughead Jones exited his bedroom from the other side of the loft and sat in the stool Betty just occupied. Jughead was Betty’s fourth and final roommate and she had developed a deep crush on him since the four of them had moved from Massachusetts to California for school.

Jughead had blossomed in the sunshine state. He had taken up surfing and gotten a tan, transforming himself into a ripped golden god. Whatever girls didn’t like about his moodiness in Riverdale, they loved here. Betty hated that she didn't make a move sooner and now that he was bedding Californian goddesses, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh god.” She muttered rolling onto her back. She was so dehydrated she could hear herself blinking. She focused on Jughead messy mop of black hair when he appeared above her.

“Up we go.” He said lifting her into the sitting position. “Take these,” he dropped two extra strength Advil in her palm. “And drink the entire glass.” He instructed.

She did as she was told and steadied herself against him when she stood up. “I need to go back to sleep.”

“Yes, you do.” Jughead agreed walking her back to her room. “Do you need to use the washroom?” He asked.

“I’m not a child, Jug.” Betty snapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not just rolling around on the floor moaning?” He cocked an eyebrow and helped her into bed. She got underneath the covers and he tucked her in. “Get more rest, you’re gonna need it.” He winked and left her room, closing her door.

Her brow furrowed at her choice of words but she was too tired to give it much more thought than that.

She woke up at 3 in the afternoon feeling much better. Still hungover but manageable. She stumbled out into the living room and found Jughead reading a book. “There she is!” He exclaimed. “I got more Advil out and grabbed some water. There is some left over Thai from lunch in he fridge if you are hungry.”

Betty grabbed the Advil, headed over to the kitchen and began heating up her food. Once the Thai was nice and hot she made way back over to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked not looking up from his book.

“Mmmm” She answered with a mouth full of food.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“So you don’t remember dancing on the bar?” He inquired.

She shook her head.

“You don’t remember leading the whole bar in a rendition of ‘Come On Eileen’?”

“How do you know this? You weren’t even there”

“Cheryl was sending me videos.” He paused. “Do you remember making a phone call?”

“It’s 2018, Juggie, no one makes phone calls anymore.” She rolled her eyes and took a gulp of her water.

“You sure about that?” He asked again.

“I haven’t spoken on a phone in like two years.”

Jughead took out his cell, began scrolling and finally pushed a button. He held it up so they could both hear it.

“Jughead, mother fucking, Jones.” Betty’s gravelly drunken voice rasped out of the phone.

Her eyes widened and she started choking on her food.

“You fucking idiot with your stupid hat and your stupid attitude and your stupid face like you don’t know how amazing you are. Well, I guess you kinda do now with that revolving bevy of girls in our apartment all the time. And what is wrong with me huh? I’m hot, I’ve had six guys hit on me tonight. Six!”

She heard herself yell through the phone and she buried her head in her arms. “No, no, no.” She repeated over and over again.

“I’m smart too and my personality is okay, so what’s your problem Jughead, huh? I’ve been told that my vagina is like, the actual best. Like, what do I need to do? I guess there is a possibility that you aren’t interested in me but I’m the tits so why wouldn’t you be.” She paused. “Another thing, you actual piece of shit-” She was cut off and he lowered the phone.

“Please tell me I didn’t call you back.” She asked, looking at him through her fingers.

He was smirking and she wanted to smack him. “That was the first of fifteen messages. My favorite was how you told me that you obsess over how big my penis is but it’s probably just normal size and that you should stop worrying about it because this isn’t a romance novel.” He chuckled.

She made a whiny, crying sound, her face burning hot.

He didn’t say anything like she expected. She expected him to tease her, she expected him to tell her that they were friends but their relationship wouldn’t be anything more than that but he didn’t. She felt his weight on the couch beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“Would it made a difference if I did?”

“Uh, yeah, kind of a big difference, do you know how you appear to others? Do you know how intimidating you are?” His voice was soft and sincere.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, rubbing her temples.

“You’re beautiful, smart and funny. You make everything seem so effortless, you should date an architect or something.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with architects?” She moaned, falling back into the cushions of the sofa.

Jughead sighed. “Betty, did you ever think about just asking me out?”

She threw him some serious side eye. “Oh yeah Jug, I’ll just walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, I know we’ve known each other forever and I’ve ignored you for most of it but now that you’re all hot and dating models and shit, you wanna go out on a date?’” She scoffed.

“Okay.” He replied.

“What?” She sat up quickly, wincing when he head throbbed.

“I’ll go out with you.”

“Why? You date hipster girls who wear glasses they don’t need and are way too big for their face. You date girls who always look good in a romper, always have perfect Coachella hair and eat avocado toast everyday. I go days without showering, I’ve slept in the library more than once, I’ve dropped a McDonalds hamburger on the ground and still ate it because I had spent my last dollar on it and it was all I could eat for 17 hours until I got paid. Last night I threw up in my hamper-”

Jughead cut her off with a kiss. Betty was taken aback by the sudden gesture and it took her body a moment to relax and really accept what was happening. Betty had fantasized about this moment every night for months. What he would smell like, what he was taste like, how he would feel. He tasted like the cinnamon tic tacs he was always eating, spicy and sweet. He smelled like clean laundry, the sea and coconuts from using the girls shampoo all the time. Betty ran her hands through his hair bringing him closer to her. His body was hard and muscular and he pushed it against her, his skin warm and tan and so different from what she expected.

He parted from her, a smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Liar.” Betty whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Betty, I’ve had a thing for your since the ninth grade.” He admitted, kissing her again.

“Do you want to take this into the bedroom?” She cooed running her hands over his chest.

“No, Bets.”

Her head jerked back. “What? Why? You take all these girls to bed and not me?”

“Betty, you aren’t all girls, you’re the girl.” He smiled and kissed her again.

She smiled back. “Can you please, for the love of god, delete all the messages I left you.”

“Um, absolutely not, this shit belongs in the MOMA.” He took out his phone. “Prepare yourself for message number two.”

#riverdale #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #bughead fanfiction #Bughead #one shot #fanfic

651 notes · View notes