Tumgik
#also i have no clue whether i should keep going back and forth between posting diane and silvia
nellandvoid · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
when you try to flirt with the weird guy from the cabin in the woods but he’s so depressed that he doesn’t even look at you while you’re talking to him
panels from a scrapped first meet concept (ended up changing how they actually meet) but i love how they look aka: i spent so much fucking time drawing them that i couldn’t just not show y’all
they do still first “meet” when stan does his first tour and takes ford’s identity, but they don’t actually meet-meet until about a week later
she worked as a janitor at dusk 2 dawn at the time and would deliver groceries to the actual ford when he stopped doing his weekly restock (he helped her clean up a spill once so she decided she owed him her life) so they have their first one-on-one convo when she goes to drop the groceries off and stan invites her in to look around as a thank-you when he recognizes her from the tour, and she agrees cause she was originally very curious about why ford never let her into his cabin before when dropping off groceries and then became even MORE curious when he just. randomly charges everyone to come take a tour of the place
39 notes · View notes
crestofshame · 2 years
Text
November fic updates
Hello everyone! Time for some general updates to keep you all posted:
I know I said that there’d be another update before the end of October, but life has gotten a little hectic lately. I don’t like to get too personal online, but I got some pretty unfortunate news toward the end of October that kind of sucked a lot of inspiration out of me. A lot of my afternoons have been spent prioritizing responsibilities followed by some chill alone time.
That aside, there should still be at least 2 updates in November. I shouldn’t have a problem sticking to my schedule range, but it will probably be on the smaller side through the holiday season, closer to the bi-weekly mark than once a week.
You can expect at least the chapter 7 update to Than Your Fragile Heart, and whether or not I release a oneshot or chapter 8 depends on where the inspiration hits and what I have the energy for. I know I said that would update last week, but I have rewritten the chapter a couple times since then. I’ve been going back and forth on the order of events and what would make the most sense, so I started to do some rearranging of my plot map, which explains the holdup.
Chapter 7 might be shorter as sort of an “interlude” chapter to bridge the journey to Enbarr together with the new politics introduced post-war; we’re in Byleth’s POV right now, and I think it’s important to introduce some of the narrative political issues through Edelgard’s domain-specific lens instead.
I’ve also started to consider branching out some of the content that I produce to other fandoms. Not sure how I’ll approach it yet, but if you really prefer one of these fandoms over the other then let me know in an ask, reply, or an RB:
• Avatar: TLA would be Gen for obvious reasons if I even got to writing any of it. For TLOK and the Kyoshi novels: It should come to no one’s surprise that I ship Korrasami and Rangshi. Maybe even Rangshi a bit more. I want to read the Yangchen Novel, too, so I might explore that if I get the chance! • Arcane: Caitvi is awesome but there’s so many people that do it justice, so I’d probably focus more on character studies. • Assassin’s Creed: This one is a little more niche; not because it’s unpopular but because the main demographic tend not to be the type to consume fics and art. My favorite games are Odyssey and Black Flag. I’d love to do a Gen fic between Alkibiates and Kassandra being fwbs, or a Mary Read character study. • Legend of Zelda: I consume so much Legend of Zelda media but I have no clue how to produce it. Whether or not I ship Zelink depends solely on the game. BOTW and Skyward Sword are my only definite ones. Twilight princess Midzel ftw though. My friend talked me into it. • Pokémon: I like Pokémon but the only time I’d do anything with it is as a crossover unless someone else has any other ideas. • Mike Flannaverse: I have not watched the newest one but I loved Hill House, Bly, and Midnight Mass. HH and MM don’t really have anything other than art that I could work with, and MM feels too masterful to even touch. Bly though… I love Damie but I’d have to be hella sad to write them. We’ll see
Let me know if you prefer one of these over another! I’d also love to make some mutuals with other interests; but just know I’ll still be fire emblem focused.
Thanks for your patience everyone :) I’m very grateful for all the support so far, and I think things will start to pick up soon.
6 notes · View notes
Text
Summer Troupe with an S/O who Shares the Same Hobby
A/N: For Kumon's, I say baseball but please know I mean baseball AND softball, I just didn't want to keep writing 'baseball/softball'. Hope that's okay! Hope y'all like it!
CW(s): none
❂ Tenma Sumeragi - Acting
Tenma thinks it’s really interesting that the two of you are into acting
He’ll definitely ask to practice scenes with you, although he seems to always get flustered when practicing romantic ones -so he just avoids eye contact because the moment he looks at you he dies inside-
If you do film acting, he’ll make sure to watch every movie you’re in no matter if you’re a lead or an extra. If you do theatre acting, he’ll try to attend as many of your performances as he can. If you just like acting but don’t really participate in anything, he’ll still support you and love practicing with you
If you need to practice for an audition, he’d love to help you out. No matter if it’s critiquing a performance or helping you practice dialogue, he’ll do anything to help you be successful
“Hey Tenma, can you help me?”
“Yeah, sure, what do you need help with?”
“I have an audition coming up and I need to work on this dialogue with someone.”
“Sure, I’ll gladly help.” You went over to sit next to Tenma and shared a script between the two of you. You couldn’t help but notice how his ears turned red from the proximity. The two of you went back and forth reading the dialogue, Tenma giving pointers at times on which emotion you should convey when, when to pause, and how to effectively give the best performance you could give. Even if he could be a bit redundant at times with his pointers, he did it out of love for you and hope for your success as he knows how amazing you are, and he wants everyone else to be able to know too.
If he ever has the opportunity to act with you, he’ll take it in a heartbeat. He’d absolutely love to work with you no matter what type of acting it is
Tenma is one of your main supporters in your acting career, and you can bet that he will stay by your side through all of it
❂ Yuki Rurikawa - Fashion and Sewing
Yuki loves that you’re good at fashion; I mean, he never has to worry about whether or not you look fashionable so he knows you two are always the cutest people in the room
If you ever make him clothing in his style he’ll feel incredibly honored that you took the time to make something for him that he’d actually wear
If either of you are struggling to pick an outfit for the day, the other will help and throw out ideas
Yuki was amazing at fashion. He knew it, you knew it, and most people knew it. No matter the type of fashion, he could easily put together a concise outfit in every style that would accentuate everyone’s so-called good side. So on days like today when you had no clue what to wear, Yuki was the person you went to. You hit the video call button next to his contact and waited for him to answer.
“Hey, what’s up?” Yuki answered the phone.
“Hey, Yuki! I’m not too sure what to wear today so I was wondering if you could help.”
“Sure, I’d love to. What are you thinking so far?” You set down your phone as he spoke and held up the outfits you were thinking about.
“Right top with left bottoms would look good. They’d look really good with that one pair of shoes you own too…”
If you enjoy sewing and are good at it, you can bet that Yuki is making you help him with costumes.
If you help with sewing the costumes, you’ll most likely befriend Taichi as well and the three of you may become quite close due to the amount of time you spend together
❂ Muku Sakisaka - (Shoujo) Manga
Muku is ecstatic that you also love manga, specifically shoujo
He’ll invite you to the shoujo manga club meetings he has with Sakyo and Kazunari so all of you can talk about that meetings manga
If you actually attended, he’d be so beyond himself with excitement that he’d be basically vibrating the whole time (Kazunari thinks it’s sweet how happy you make Muku)
He’ll give you so many recommendations that he won’t expect you to read them all, but if you do he’ll be so happy
He’d love it if you gave him recommendations too! Muku would be sure to read your favorite mangas so he can talk with you about them
“Hey Muku! Look at this new manga I found! I think you’d enjoy it!” you said, walking into his room.
“Oh, hey! What’s the manga called?” he perked up at the sound of your voice and began making his way over to you.
“It’s this manga called Wotakoi: Love is Hard for an Otaku?”
“Oh, I've heard of it!”
“Really? Would you like to read it? I have the whole set if you’d like to borrow it.”
“I’d love to! Oh my gosh, I’m so excited to read this!”
“I’ll bring it over tomorrow then if that’s alright.
He just feels so accepted with you since you have the same interest in manga and he feels like he can be his full authentic self with you, just as he can be with his troupe
❂ Misumi Ikaruga - Triangles
Misumi is ecstatic to find someone with the same passion for triangles as him
He definitely calls you his triangle, and it makes him happy beyond belief you understand how much that means to him personally as you also love triangles
If you call him your triangle, he will positively melt on the spot and cover you in small kisses
Triangle hunting dates! The two of you will most definitely go out together to search for the shape
Be ready to be gifted so many triangle things- you can hardly believe how many items he finds especially to gift you but that’s Misumi for you
“I brought you a gift!” Misumi said one day as he walked into your room.
“Really?” you said, excited.
“Mhm! Close your eyes and put your hands out.” You complied with Misumi’s orders as you buzzed with anticipation. You felt a light object be placed into your hands as you heard Misumi shuffle closer to you. “You can open your eyes now.” When you did, you spotted a triangle shaped charm with a heart on the inside in your palms. You reflexively clenched your hands and held the charm to your heart. “Do you like it?” he asked. You could almost hear a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“Misumi, I love it.” a smile broke out onto his face as he heard you say that.
“Really!? That makes me so happy!” he said as he pulled you into a hug.
The rest of the company find it so odd that Misumi is dating someone with the same love of triangles as him, but at the very least the find it cute and mildly entertaining
❂ Kazunari Miyoshi - Painting
Kazunari thinks it’s so cool that you like painting as much as him!
Get ready for painting dates where the two of you just talk about everything and nothing while working on your own projects
Do you know that old social media trend where people would paint on their significant other’s back? Yeah, he’d definitely love for the two of you to do that and take a picture so he can post it on Instablam
If he’s ever stuck on a project, he’ll ask you for help
You walked into Kazunari’s room and saw his head on his desk. Before you approached your boyfriend you waved to Muku who gladly said hello.
“He’s struggling.” Muku said as he climbed down his ladder and left the room. You just nodded in acknowledgement, grabbed a chair, and went to sit next to Kazunari. “I need help.” he whined, placing his head on your shoulder in an attempt to get your attention.
You placed a kiss on his cheek and then spoke, “what is it?”
“I can’t think of an idea for the next play’s poster.
“Okay, what’s the play about?” He explained the entirety of the plot in one fell swoop, and in the back of your mind you couldn’t help but applaud Tsuzuru at his creativity.
“Okay, so I was thinking…”
If you’re ever stuck on a project, he will also always help!
If you ever need any critique he’d love to go over your works with you, and he’d also love to receive constructive criticism when he asks for it
He just loves dating someone with the same passion for art he does since you can understand where he’s coming from a bit better when it comes to talking about it
❂ Kumon Hyodo - Baseball
Although Kumon doesn’t play baseball anymore, he still loves the fact you enjoy the sport as much as he does
If you play, he’ll definitely practice with you and attend any games he can. He’s definitely one of the loudest on the sidelines but he can’t help it! He’s so proud of you
Kumon cheered as you went up to bat. He wanted to make sure you could hear that he was there watching and supporting you. He mentally wished you good luck, but in his heart he knew you didn’t need it as the two of you had been practicing very hard. He watched as you went up to bat and he sat with baited breath and he watched as you did amazingly.
After the game he went to greet you and immediately pulled you into a hug.
“Kumon, I’m sweaty!” you protested, but the entire time you were laughing and didn’t make any move to push him away.
If you don’t play but only watch baseball, he’s still excited to have someone to talk baseball about to someone/watch baseball with
He’ll definitely invite you to any professional baseball games he gets tickets for
He absolutely loves enjoying his favorite sport with you and he hopes that you do as well
· · ─────── · ☆ · ─────── · ·
Masterlists || FaQ || Requesting Rules/Remarks
123 notes · View notes
amyscascadingtabs · 3 years
Text
the way you keep the world at bay for me
post-the set up, a.k.a jake taking care of hungover amy, hungover amy taking care of sad jake, and mac caring mostly about himself because he’s a baby 😌
read on ao3
Jake doesn't get a lot of sleep that night, and for once, it's not even Mac’s fault. It's not even due to the pizza parlor simulator game either, although he does play a couple of rounds when Amy's finally snoring next to him after ranting to herself about the babysitter’s club for a solid ten minutes, but not even that can fully distract him from the dull sense of doom that's made itself at home deep in his chest. 
This is bad. Holt wants to see him tomorrow, and Jake knows there will be consequences. There has to be. There should be. He made a mistake, and he's going to get punished for it, and there is nothing he can do but accept his defeat. He already knows what he has to do; the nerve-wracking thing is the fact that it's still hours away, and his brain is spinning too fast for sleep.
He really wishes he could talk to Amy. She's sleeping on her stomach with her mouth open, arms straight out to the sides like she’s trying to push him out of bed, but he still can’t be mad at her. He hasn’t seen her this drunk since before she got pregnant, and he’s seriously worried about the hangover she’ll be sporting tomorrow, but he also knows she did it for him. Because they’re a team. Because she trusts him, sometimes even when it turns out he was wrong.
He wrongfully arrested someone. The sentence keeps repeating in his head, appears pasted in bold font on the inside of his eyelids if he tries to go to sleep, and displayed in luminescent letters on the ceiling of his bedroom when he gives up and opens his eyes again. He should have known better, has learned his lesson time and time again since his early days of constantly glorifying his job and letting his impulsivity get the best of him, and he still made a mistake.
  /
He just wants someone to tell him it doesn’t make him a bad person. If only Amy wasn’t so drunk he’s scared to wake her up right now, Charles wasn’t so devotedly biased in all questions involving Jake’s role as a detective, and Mac wasn’t, well… so completely unable to grasp any of the concepts involved in the question.
Amy lets out another mighty drunken snore, and Jake hopes she will consider it a testament to his love for her that he doesn’t voice record it. He turns his head instead and picks up his phone to go back to the pizza game. Maybe just a few more virtual customers will be able to lure him to sleep.
 ~
 He must have fallen asleep eventually, because when Mac does start babbling to himself over the monitor, the morning sun is shining through the windows, and Amy’s stopped snoring. She’s only moaning uncomfortably to herself now, and Jake’s guessing from her strained grimace that the headache has kicked in hard.
“I’ll get you coffee and aspirin as soon as I’ve checked on Mac,” he whispers to her with a kiss to her neck, and he thinks he sees the hint of a smile as she reaches out for him in what’s probably an attempt of a pat on the back, but ends up more of an unintentional slap to his butt. Or maybe she’s still drunk, and it is intentional. It’s hard to tell.
  /
Mac may have no clue about what’s currently going on with Jake, but at least it’s impossible not to smile when he hauls himself up and rocks back and forth on unsteady feet in excitement over the fact that someone’s coming to get him. He greets Jake with that wide grin that shows off all of his four teeth – two up and two down, and they’ve kept everyone up at night for weeks, but they’re so pearly white and cute so maybe it was worth it – and a laugh that’s been Jake’s favorite sound on Earth since the first time he heard it.
“Good morning, bud,” Jake tells his son as he lifts him up in his arms. “What do you say we get you a bottle and mama some coffee? Hmm?”
“Bah,” Mac repeats. Jake decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and say it means he agrees on the bottle.
“Bottle, exactly. You're so smart,” he says, booping his little nose and smiling as it makes Mac giggle. “Let's try another one. Dada.”
There's a tense moment of them both just staring at each other, and then finally, his son goes,
“Bah.”
“One day,” Jake says with a sigh as he carries Mac out of the nursery. “As long as you say me first, okay? We’ll get there. We’ll practice.”
  /
He puts Mac in the high chair while he tries his best to work the coffee machine and the bottle warmer at the same time. It's trickier than to be expected on almost no sleep, but at least he manages to pour the breast milk from the freezer bag into the bottle and not into his coffee this time. He's only made that mistake once (fine, maybe twice, and he kind of liked how sweet it tasted but he's never gonna tell anyone), but he suspects Amy's never gonna let him live it down. He gets Aspirin from the medicine cabinet while he waits, and puts a couple of slices of toast in the toaster. His own day feels already pretty much beyond saving, but at least maybe he can improve Amy's.
  /
Though, when she stumbles out of the bedroom, still in her pajamas with her huge glasses and hair on end and looking like she's either seconds from being sick or going straight back to sleep, he worries whether she might just be beyond saving, too.
“How are you feeling?” He asks as she gives him one drained look before walking up to the couch and face-planting on it with another pained groan.
“I think I might be dead.”
“That's called a hangover, babe. I think you used to be familiar with the concept once upon a time, but I guess it's been a while.” Jake grins at Mac, who only reaches his chubby hands out for the bottle out in response. “Toast?”
“Do I have to?”
“It's going to help.”
“Fine.” Amy pushes her head off the pillow to look at Mac. “He's not drinking the milk I pumped yesterday, right?”
“I poured that out for you. I know they say moderate amounts of alcohol are fine, but, well, you were speaking British.”
“Good call,” Amy mumbles as he puts the coffee, aspirin, and toast down in front of her. “See, this is why I married you.”
Jake just hums, but he does smile to himself as he goes to grab his own cup of coffee.
  /
“I wish I could call in sick to work today,” Amy says between bites of toast, and Jake looks up from where he’s absentmindedly brushing crumbs off the countertop while finishing his own. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“I mean, you did very much go through contractions while managing an entire precinct during a blackout once. You could think about that?”
“No, this is worse than giving birth,” she states confidently, and Jake has to try very hard not to laugh. “Don’t tell my past self I said that. Or my future self if I ever give birth again.”
“Yeah.” He grimaces. “I’m pretty terrified to go, too.”
“Why?”
“Because yesterday? All of it?”
“Ohh.” Amy sighs. “Right. Maybe we should both just stay home.”
  /
Jake’s about to tell her how much he wishes that was an option when Mac drops the finished bottle against the tray, immediately starting to twist in his seat. Jake unclasps the belt and lifts him out before he manages to rock the chair – that kid’s shockingly strong – and Mac immediately crawls away towards the walker. He doesn’t use it to move yet, but he’s been pulling himself up with it for over a month, and the anticipation is high every time he lets go with one hand only to sit back down on his booty the next second. Sometimes Jake could swear his son does it for attention. At least Mac doesn’t seem to have inherited his impulsivity, Jake thinks, and then he’s back to beating himself up in his head.
  / 
“I just don’t know why I did it,” he mutters as he sits down on the floor next to Amy’s head on the couch. She nods slowly, and Jake takes it as a sign she might actually be able to listen to him now. “I should know better, right? These are, like... the kind of mistakes I used to make. I thought I’d gotten better at this kind of stuff. Smarter. Less impulsive. Less of a bad cop. But instead I arrested and tailed an innocent man, all because I thought I had a gut feeling and thought I was being set up.” He shakes his head. “I guess that FBI jerk was right about gut feelings.”
“You’re a great detective,” Amy says without missing a beat. “A lot of the time, your gut feeling is right.”
“That doesn’t excuse it. I still shouldn’t have done it.”
“No.” Amy sighs. “You shouldn’t have.”
“It sucked.”
“Yeah. It did. But there’s nothing you can do to change it now.”
“Do you think I’m a bad person for it?” The question comes flying out of him, and Amy frowns.
“Why would I think that?”
“Because it was a shit move! And because I’m definitely gonna get suspended for it, and that’s going to lose us money. And then we’re not going to be able to save as much for Mac, or pay for his baby music class or baby gymnastics. And then he’s going to end up broke and untalented and it’ll all be my fault, and then you’ll be ashamed of me and leave me and I’ll die sad and alone in a ditch.”
“And you don’t think you’re spiraling just slightly right now?” Amy asks. The smile on her lips is one of amusement, and it humbles him, bringing him out of his cycle of self-pity.
“I don’t know. I didn’t get a ton of sleep last night.”
“I don’t think you’re a bad person,” she says, and that does make him feel a bit better. “I think you made a really stupid mistake. There's no getting away from that. I’m not happy about it. But… I know you'll take responsibility for it. That’s already a whole lot further than a lot of people care to go.”
  /
Her fingers brush through her hair, calming him as she speaks. The hangover has made her voice a little scratchy, Jake notices when she's this close. It reminds him of mornings after long evenings out before they were parents, a time that always feels far longer ago than it was. Sometimes he thinks everything before Mac might as well be another lifetime.
  /
“And we'll work it out if you do get suspended,” Amy continues, talking over the obnoxious melody playing from a toy Mac has found. “It's not great, of course. But we can save lots of money on daycare if you stay home with Mac. That helps.”
“Like a paternity leave,” Jake says. He does like that thought.
“Oh yeah.” Amy laughs. “You’ll be just like one of those hip Scandinavian dads who get to stay home with their kids because they live in countries where they don’t hate people for having kids. And you two can go to all of the cool classes and playdates together. You’d be the sexiest dad at baby swim class for sure.”
“Wouldn’t I also be one of the only ones?”
“Good point. Make sure to mention your wife a lot. But hey, Mac’s going to love it.”
 /
As if wanting to confirm Amy’s point, Mac crawls over to Jake and tries to climb up on his knees to sit in his lap. He does this sometimes when he’s playing on his own; retreats to their arms for a hug or a quick cuddle, only to try and wriggle out of their grip and go back to whatever it is he’s doing in the next moment. Jake thinks it might be one of their son’s sweetest qualities. Mac rests his head against Jake’s chest, almost hugging him like that, and he wonders, not for the first time, how a person that’s not even one year of age can make every other issue in the world seem so insignificant. Even if it's just for a moment, it's a pretty damn good moment.
 / 
Fueled by the most powerful motivation of all – their son’s love and attention – Amy sits down on the floor too, patting her knees.
“You want to come to mama, Mac?”
Mac squirms for a moment in Jake's arms, and Jake lets go of him. Using the couch as support, for a second it looks like he’s almost about to take a step toward her. Both parents gasp in anticipation, and it must confuse him, because he reacts by giving Amy a shocked look and sitting right back down on his butt. Jake laughs as their son crawls away again, heading for the soft building blocks outside the playpen.
“He's such a tease.”
“He gets that from you,” Amy says, and Jake huffs in mock-offense. “Are you sure we shouldn't just stay home from work?”
  /
Jake thinks of his upcoming meeting with Holt. He's been fearing it for so many hours now, and he's starting to wonder if the anxious anticipation might just not be worse than the meeting itself. He already knows what he has to do; the only thing left is to rip off the band-aid.
“I don't think it will make anything better if we don't.”
“Yeah.” Amy sighs, closing her eyes and leaning on his shoulder. “I love you.”
“Love you too. And you should probably shower and put on makeup unless you want everyone to know exactly how hungover you are.”
“I know you're right, and I hate it.”
Jake grins and strokes her hair before getting up from the floor. “I’ll go get Mac ready for the day.”
  /
“Jake?” Amy calls out before he can leave for the nursery with Mac in his arms, and he turns around. Her voice is still a little hoarse.
“Yeah?”
“It's going to be okay, babe. We’ll figure it out.”
 / 
Jake brushes his fingers through Mac’s already unruly curls. He thinks of playground dates, the storytime for toddlers their library holds every Wednesday, and how much time he’ll have to make sure Mac says his name first now. Then he thinks of the bigger image; of daring to set a good example for this child, even when it's hard. If he wants the world to be a better place for his son, he's going to have to start by taking responsibility for his own actions.
“Yeah. I know.”
  /
For the first time that day, he dares to believe it.
45 notes · View notes
arcturusreads · 3 years
Note
you are such a good writer. everything you write makes me want a part 2. possibilities has me on the edge of my seat rn. part 2 is needed please
Possibilities Part Two - Merhayes
Thank you so much, lovely! I hope this is the part 2 you needed! You guys can find part one here!
Eventually, Meredith had managed to find the strength to leave the supply closest. Furiously, she had wiped away her tears and tried to steady her breath. After giving herself a few moments and praying that her eyes were red and puffy from the tears, she opened the door and looked around to see there was no one else nearby. She straightened out her scrub top and began walking down the corridor to the elevator.
There was no plan of attack. Meredith had no clue whether she should go and fin Cormac now or give him some time to cool down. He had been so angry with her, a feeling from him that had never once been directed towards her before. But he was angry under the misconception that Meredith didn’t care about him, that she didn’t want to be with him and that couldn’t be further from the truth.
The argument in her head went back and forth, not sure whether to see him now or text him later. It made her feel overwhelmed to the point she could feel the blood pounding in her ears. Everything had been going so well between the two of them. It never felt like an effort to talk to Cormac, to find the open opportunities in her day to spend time with him. It was just easy with him but never boring. No, Cormac Hayes constantly kept her on her toes.
Meredith wasn’t quite sure how, but she had made it up to her ward, autopilot had kicked in to take her to the place in the hospital where she felt in the most control, bar the OR. This ward was her queendom and no one questioned her rule. This was her safe place whilst other areas of her life felt like there were falling apart. Right now, when she felt so out of control with the situation with Cormac, she knew that this place would calm her mind for long enough to get through the rest of her shift.
“Dr Grey!”
Meredith was jolted out of her thoughts and found Miranda standing next to her. She knew that the Chief of Surgery only ever called her Dr Grey in two situations, in front of patients and interns or when she was in trouble. With no patients or interns around, the latter could be the only reason, but Meredith couldn’t find herself caring.
“Yes, Dr Bailey?” Her tone was weary, voice still a little croaky from the crying.
Taking a proper look at Meredith’s face, Bailey could see something wasn’t quite right. Her Chief of General Surgery was normally a battle-axe of a woman. Sure, she had seen Meredith annoyed, angry and frustrated at work but today she looked broken and that just didn’t sit right with her.
“Can we go to your office?”
“Uh, sure?” Meredith wasn’t quite sure why Bailey wanted to see her privately but didn’t even have the energy to question it.
Silently they walked into the room. Meredith shut the door behind them as Miranda took a seat on the teal two-seater.
“Look, if this is about the schedules I’m sorry but we’re down two general surgeons since we haven’t filled in Andrew’s or Jo’s posts so-“
Miranda cut her off, “Meredith, just breathe for a second. I’m not here to have a go at you about the schedules, I don’t care about that right now.” She patted the spot next to the sofa. “I’m more concerned about you. What’s going on, Grey?”
“Nothing’s going on.” Meredith crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
Pursing her lips and arching a brow, Miranda didn’t let up. “Mhm, and the sky is purple. Sit your butt down and talk to me, Grey.”
Begrudgingly, Meredith took a seat next to Miranda. She had that tone of voice that she had used the entire way throughout their intern year. The one that told Meredith that there was no room for arguments. You were going to listen to Miranda Bailey or not live to see the end of the day.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Stubborn babies. Miranda Bailey had raised a bunch of stubborn babies who didn’t know what to do that was good for them.
“I’m not your boss here, Meredith. Just your friend. You and Richard were there for me when I miscarried. Now, I know that something isn’t right with you so we can sit here all day but you’re going to tell me what’s going on with you.”
Sighing, Meredith uncrossed her arms and began to fiddle with the hem of her scrub top. “As my friend, not my boss, right?” She knew that as the Chief, Bailey would have been less than impressed that Cormac and Meredith kept their relationship from HR.
Miranda nodded at her, hoping that Meredith would trust her enough to open up. As long as she hadn’t done anything illegal that would put the hospital and her medical licence at risk, then Miranda could take of the Chief of Surgery hat for a minute to be there for Meredith.
Taking a deep breath, Meredith knew that she needed to get this off of her chest and talk to someone else about it. “It’s me and Cormac,” she muttered quietly.
“You’re gonna have to speak up, Grey.”
“Me and Cormac.”
Miranda nodded in understanding, “You two finally got your act together and started dating yet?”
“Ye- wait, what?” Meredith took a moment to register what Bailey had said.
When she looked up at her, she was wearing a knowing smirk on her face. “We’re surgeons, Meredith. We’re not dumb and we’re definitely not blind. This whole hospital has been holding their breath waiting for the two of you to stop being such chicken and do something about what we all know is between the two of you.”
“I-uh,” Meredith wasn’t quite sure what to reply.
Her sisters and Jo had teased her about Cormac ever since he had started working at Grey-Sloan. She’d always thought it was just because she’d stupidly mentioned that Cristina had sent him as a ‘gift’ but maybe they had seen something there that she had been blind to for a while. Apparently, the whole hospital staff had seen it.
“You aren’t denying it,” Bailey continued as she waited for a response.
Relenting, Meredith decided to come out and tell Miranda everything. Like ripping a plaster off a wound. “We’ve been together for four months.” She didn’t miss Bailey’s eyebrows shooting up but didn’t stop for her to comment. “Or we were together? I don’t know, Bailey. I feel like I’ve messed it up. He’s so angry and I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“Okay, honey, just breathe for a second.” Seeing that Meredith was visibly shaking, Miranda clasped her hands around the general surgeon’s. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me everything but I’m sure that whatever’s gone on to make him that angry can’t be that bad.”
Miranda knew that her Chief of Paediatric Surgery had a bit of a temper at times. His passions for his work and his patients often meant he would end up in arguments. So, surely, whatever had happened between the two of them couldn’t have been that bad.
Taking a few deep breaths with Miranda, Meredith stopped shaking and began to tell Miranda of the argument that had happened only moments beforehand. Miranda listened carefully, not interrupting and making sure that Meredith didn’t get overwhelmed again.
“I’ve ruined everything between us, Bailey. The look on his face when he left…”
If there was one thing that Miranda Bailey was known for, it was tough love. Especially when it came to her intern class and today was no exception to the rule.
“Meredith Grey, you’re telling me that you’re just going to sit here and not fight for that man? I know you better than that, Grey.”
“What if he doesn’t want me to fight?”
“You’re going to let that stop you? Meredith, you might not have told anyone that you’ve been together the past four months, but I can tell you now that I’ve seen you around this hospital recently. I haven’t seen that same spark in your eyes since… since Derek.”
Miranda slowly softened her tone, “Meredith, I know you’re scared of what’s between you and Cormac but when are you going to stop telling yourself that you don’t deserve a second chance at love?”
“I didn’t say that!” Meredith jumped in, defensively.
Miranda rolled her eyes, “You don’t that I haven’t known you for long enough to know what you’re like? To know what you’re thinking? Meredith, you be honest with me here because it’s only the two of us, how do you feel when you’re with Cormac?”
There was a time where Miranda Bailey would have shut down any conversation that came close to knowing about the personal lives of her colleagues. Especially their love lives. But there she had learnt that there was no getting away from it. People like Meredith and Richard were a part of her family now, she found herself caring about them, including the parts of their personal lives she used to dodge like the plague.
“You don’t need to do this, Bailey.” Meredith was hunched over, staring at her trainers and Miranda took that opportunity to quickly shoot a page to Hayes.
“Oh, I know I don’t. I’m busy, I have a hospital to run but I want to. So, how about you stop evading my question and give me an answer.”
Meredith rubbed her “I don’t know. Good, I guess.”
“Good? You guess? That’s the best you’ve got, Grey? For a man that you’ve secretly been dating for the past four months. If you don’t give me a better answer, I’m suspending you.”
“You can’t do that!”
“You kept a relationship with a colleague secret for months and didn’t inform HR. I can and I will.” Miranda knew she wouldn’t, but she also knew that right now, Meredith wouldn’t want to call her bluff.
Meredith pushed herself up off of the sofa and began to pace. “This is ridiculous!”
There was a silence as Miranda didn’t respond and Meredith knew that she wasn’t getting out of this one. Letting out a huff, she turned away from Bailey and rested her hands on her desk.
“It feels like home when I’m with him. I could be having the worst day possible and if here’s there, next to me, I feel like everything is going to be okay. And he believes in me, but he won’t let me settle, he’s always there to keep pushing me to be better, to be more. It’s scary, Bailey because I haven’t felt like this since, Derek. I didn’t think it was possible. I knew I could fall in love again, but I didn’t know I could feel like this again. And now I feel like I’ve just thrown it all away before we could even have a proper chance. I was scared and I didn’t want to push him into something he might have felt uncomfortable with but I’ve just pushed him away altogether now. I don’t know what to do.”
Meredith turned around, hoping that Bailey would give her some answers but instead, standing in front of her was Cormac.
“You couldn’t have just told me all that yourself?” His voice broke slightly, and Meredith could see that he’d been crying as well.
“How…?” She wasn’t quite sure how he’d come to her office and Miranda had disappeared.
“Bailey paged me, told me to come up here.”
“So, you heard everything?”
Cormac nodded, “I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me all of that, Mer. If you were scared, all you had to do was say. You didn’t even have to say why.”
Silent tears fell down Meredith’s face, “I’m sorry.” It was all she managed to get out.
Cormac stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her small frame, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you too, you insane woman. You drive me crazy but I promise you, you’ll never push me away.
39 notes · View notes
Text
Remembrance of Things Past - Eps 1-10 Impression/Rant
Not really a first impressions post since there are only 2 episodes left, but as I’m waiting on the last few episodes, I thought I’d rant a bit about the drama here. 
First of all, I agree with everything that AvenueX said in her review of the first 6 episodes. Her review is what prompted me to start the drama. I needed a realistic slice of life drama to balance out the idol drama that is You Are My Glory (which I’m also waiting on for new episodes), and ROTP seemed to fit bill. ROTP is just so good.
I binged ROTP in 3 days. It could have been 2 days, but I started it at 2am on a Wednesday night, so I didn’t get very far the first night. Each episode is about 75 minutes long, so almost the equivalent of 2 regular lengthed episodes, but not quite. 
I cried during the first two episodes. The character development is just phenomenal. You really feel for Jing Jing’s character even though you’ve only seen her character for an hour. There are little moments throughout the drama that made me tear up too, like when the girls were celebrating Nan Jia jie’s 36th birthday and I got emotional over how close their bond is, or moments when the girls reflected on their aging parents and how we often take our parents for granted. 
Plot pacing and structure
The plot is tight and well-paced, and each girl’s storyline is interwoven well. Sometimes they’d cut between simultaneous scenes between the girls to compare and contrast what they’re each going through. For instance, when Xu Yan is having an argument with her boyfriend, the drama will also cut and flip back and forth to Qiao Xi Chen going through problems at her workplace. When Xu Yan makes up with her boyfriend, the drama cuts to QXC and Nan Jia being romantically pursued by Jian Yi Fan and Ou Yang. It’s interesting to see how their lives mirror and differ from each other. 
Because the storylines between the girls are so interwoven and keep flipping back and forth between each other, it makes it hard to skip scenes because you can’t just skip an entire segment or else you’ll miss something important in all 3 storylines. I can see that this might be a little annoying if you have a preference for one of the girls and want to skip someone else’s storyline. But I actually like seeing all 3 of their stories play out, so I’m not bothered by it. 
Another aspect about the plot’s structure that I appreciate is how they use the mystery behind Jing Jing’s suicide as a throughline for the drama. Up until episode 8ish(?), each episode ends with a question about Jing Jing’s life prior to her suicide and the next episode opens with the girls trying to find an answer or a clue to it. The girls and we the audience learn more and more about Jing Jing with each episode. However, episodes 9 and 10 deviate from the structure a bit and so the drama has recently been less and less focused on Jing Jing’s story, especially after they found out that she had depression. The drama seems to imply that her depression due to the stress of living in Beijing was the main factor that led to her suicide, while the successive unfortunate events that happened on her birthday was the trigger. 
Characters
I like all the main characters in the drama, albeit some a little more than others, which I’ll explain. I think the 3 male love interests are a little too perfect though, and so I guess this slice of life drama is actually a little idealistic after all. 
Xu Yan - My least favourite of the four girls. She’s materialistic, but not as spoiled as I though she would be. But it does annoy me how she keeps picking fights with Shen Zi Chang, when he’s just trying his best. He’s so tolerant and patient with her. He apologizes, they make up, and then the cycle repeats. It’s just a very unhealthy relationship, and I’m tried of seeing them fight and make up. 
EDIT: So, I started writing this review when I had only watched up until episode 9, but now that I’ve finished episode 10, um, wtf?? Xu Yan made a bad choice and got scammed of all her money, her friends try to comfort her, loan her money, and tell her not to repress her emotions like Jing Jing. And then she just lashes out at them saying they have no right to comfort her because they were the ones who caused Jing Jing’s death. Xu Yan starts off blaming QXC for not knowing that Jing Jing had a crush on her boyfriend, and then she blames Nan Jia for being a bad older cousin. She blames both of them for being ignorant of Jing Jing’s depression and only caring about themselves. QXC (rightfully) retorts back than Xu Yan knew all along that Jing Jing had a crush on her boyfriend, and yet Xu Yan never told anyone, so she’s just as guilty as all of them. Honestly, I was sympathetic towards Xu Yan before, but she was just so ungrateful and entitled in that scene. What right does she have pointing fingers and assigning guilt to people? And to weaponize Jing Jing’s death against them? That’s just cruel. The argument between them in that scene at the end of episode 10 just felt so random and out of place. All of a sudden, Xu Yan points out all of these problems she has with QXC and Nan Jia, when all they’ve ever done is pamper her. Also, you can’t blame QXC for dating Lin Rui even if Jing Jing liked him first, and not to mention that QXC wasn’t even aware. QXC might not have even chosen to date Lin Rui if she had known. But it happens all the time between friends where your friend might date someone you like. All’s fair in love and war, and there’s no first come first serve rule when it comes to dating.
Jing Jing - She becomes more complex as you learn more about her. She puts her friends first and is fiercely supportive and protective of them. We get a glimpse of how far she’s willing to go for them she pulls a butcher knife from the kitchen and points it at QXC’s debt collectors in the first episode. Her friends see her as being really open, expressive, and bubbly. She’s the first one they each go to whenever they need help with a problem or want to show off an achievement. But in reality, she’s really secretive. She hides her feelings to keep her friends happy, and when they slowly uncover her secrets, she becomes less and less recognizable to them, as though she’s been living a double life all along. 
At the end of episode 10, Jing Jing is described as the “hole in the tree” that everyone goes to to share their secrets, but they forget that she’s also a person with her own secrets to share, and she’s not just a tree hole to serve others. Can we blame the friends for not paying enough attention to Jing Jing and only using her for emotional support? Yes and no. It’s complicated. We should always do more to try to care for others and to be more attentive to them, but at the same time, it’s impossible to completely know a person. I purposely hide parts of my life from my friends because I don’t want them worrying or judging or commenting. So I would never expect them to be able to figure it out, and neither do I want them to figure it out. I think it’s interesting that the drama is exploring the friends’ self-imposed guilt, but I don’t agree that Xu Yan should be the one to point it out them and to be Jing Jing’s spokesperson. Xu Yan positions herself as Jing Jing’s heroic and righteous advocator, when really Xu Yan is the most problematic person out of the three remaining friends. 
Also, after seeing how the friends interact, they don’t feel narcissistic. Yes, they each readily vent about their problems to each other, but they also ask about the other person. It’s not one-sided. Xu Yan talks about her problems with her boyfriend, but she also asks and cares about what’s happening in QXC’s life and vice versa. Nan Jia is more mature and is busy with her business, but she always takes the time and effort to help her friends. All of their conversations are reciprocal and they are genuinely interested in each other’s lives. So, I don’t think they have a major communication problem or that they don’t care or that they’re ignorant. Which again, makes Xu Yan’s accusations in episode 10 feel even more unfair. 
Ji Nan Jia - Jing Jing’s cousin and also the oldest of the three girls (about a decade older). Sassy, witty, unapologetic, confident. She’s who you’d think of when you imagine a successful, independent, career-driven woman. She’s extremely annoyed by her mother’s nagging to get married. But she herself is trying to figure out whether she actually wants to find someone to settle down with or if she just wants to beat her biological clock and have children while she still can. She’s pursued by Ou Yang, ten years her junior, and he’s absolutely enamoured with her. He seems to be unconditionally in love with her, which is what I meant when I said that the male leads in this drama seem too perfect and idealistic. But I like Ou Yang though. He’s adorable. 
Qiao Xi Chen - The main character of the four main characters. Like Nan Jia, she’s also quite sassy. In some ways, she’s like a younger version of Nan Jia. QXC is also very career driven and competitive. She’s confident and believes in her abilities, but she also gets easily overwhelmed and emotional (like when her stress and nervousness prevented her from being able to give her proposal presentation and she ran out of the room. I’ve definitely felt that way before my committee meetings). QXC is a character you can self-insert as because she represents the everyday employee who struggles with the long commute to work and tries to stand out and make a name for herself in the company. QXC is also extremely paranoid, which is understandable when you’re a woman living alone in the city. I know what it’s like to have to briskly walk home late at night and constantly having to look over your shoulder to make sure no one’s following you, or having to check your hotel room before you change, or having to make it seem like you’re not the only one living in your apartment. QXC is smart, logical, helps people when she can, but is also reasonably selfish when she needs to protect herself, like when her co-workers try to take advantage of her or throw her under the bus. She’s a character everyone can relate to.
She and Jian Yi Fan also make such a cute pairing. I love all their interactions. I love how Jian Yi Fan can’t help but smile when he’s with her, but he tries hard to clamp it down. I love how QXC is aware of her own attraction and easily admits to to Xu Yan that she does have feelings for him instead of beating around the bush. And I especially love the awkward but adorable confession scene in episode 8. Such great banter and play on words (”你是什麼意思” “沒意思” “你對我是不是有意思?”). The drama did a great job of depicting the frustration of trying to guess whether someone likes you when they seem to be sending mixed signals. A lot of dramas that don’t focus on romance seem to do a better job of showing romance than idol dramas that focus on nothing but romance. I grew up with TVB dramas, and in most of them, romance is usually secondary to the main plot, but I always loved the romances in those dramas.
Like Ou Yang, JYF is such an idealistic love interest. He’s so supportive of and attentive to QXC. I haven’t watched too many slice of life dramas, but To Dear Myself and My Best Friend’s Story both had flawed (and sometimes even irredeemable) male love interests. This drama’s rose-coloured glasses definitely reduces the amount of performative angst, but it also makes the drama a little less realistic. The men in Jing Jing’s life aren’t villainized either even when you expected them to be sinister. I think the most antagonistic character is Lin Rui, but even he’s made to be sympathetic. In fact, nearly all the characters in the drama are sympathetic characters because many of the choices they made were forced because of the situation they found themselves in, and what they did was an act of self-preservation. And so, you can’t hate them or blame them. 
Acting and Dialogue
I mean, what’s there to say? The acting and dialogue just sucks you right in. I love it so much. The characters are so animated and charming because of how well the actors delivered their lines. I’m not a mandarin speaker (I’m a cantonese speaker but learned mandarin afterwards), but even I was able to notice the colloquialism and slangs and idiosyncratic ticks in speech that made the dialogue feel so real and alive. The actors had great comedic timing, and when they cried, you could feel how vulnerable they are. 
Lastly, I also like the little “life lessons” they include at the end of the drama where there’d be a voiceover by one of the actresses and they’d muse about life. One of my favourite musings when when they talked about what it means to have a sense of security. For some people, having a sense of security is about having a certain amount of money in your bank account, or having someone waiting for you to come home, but a sense of security isn’t something tangible or physical that you can achieve or possess. It’s a belief. It’s a belief that you’re able to face any problem and that life will go on. It’s a belief that the one that you love will be faithful and supportive. It’s a type of belief that allows you to be confident to face uncertainty. And thus, a sense of security is something that only you can give yourself. I really like that little food for thought because it’s a great reminder to be self-dependent and to not rely on external gratification. Que sera sera. What will be will be. Don’t get too hung over on failure and don’t let stress dominate your life. 
Note: Watching this at the same time as You Are My Glory is extremely humbling. YAMG is an idol drama, and so they make the romance look so easy. Heck, idol dramas make being a protagonist easy. The protagonist is destined to stand out from the crowd. It’s easy to be noticed. It’s easy to cause a change in the status quo. But ROTP is a reminder that we’re all practically nobodies in the big city. It feels impossible to make an impression when there are millions of other people living almost the same life as you are. There’s nothing special about you, and it’s hard to find meaning and purpose. Obviously, the drama shows that even when it feels like you’re trying to swim upstream in a big city, we each have a life worth living. We may feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but to our friends and family, we’re their world and they’re ours. I think it was Camus who said that we should find meaning in the face of absurdity. Live in spite of how absurd and meaningless things feels. Anyway, this drama gives you a lot to think about, even though I don’t really like the melodrama they’ve recently added to drag the plot (*cough cough* that explosive argument scene at the end of episode 10 that I keep ranting about). You’d think that a 12-episode drama wouldn’t have filler, and yet here we are. 
17 notes · View notes
elise-jupiterstyle · 3 years
Text
WIP sneak peek: the night’s harboring shade
“Where is he?”
The words escape Beth before she can think better of it. A blush erupts across her chest when Mick pops a brow and fixes her with a knowing look.
And, okay—this isn’t exactly how she’d planned on broaching the subject. She’d intended on keeping her line of questioning as apathetic as possible, avoid showing her hand too early—which, much to her chagrin, she’s managed to do in a matter of seconds—but as soon as she’d caught sight of Mick’s silhouette in the doorway instead of Rio’s, the question had burst forth from her lips before she could stop herself.
This is the third week in a row he’s missed their drop.
“Expectin’ someone else?” Mick asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he saunters over to her. The swish of his leather jacket is the only sound in the room besides the constant, dull hum of the heating system in the corner as it fights off the mid-winter chill.
Although her chances are slim to none that Mick will buy into her charade now, Beth feigns nonchalance, shrugging her shoulders and pursing her lips as he comes to stand at the opposite end of the work table.
“I had just been under the impression that he would be at the drops he scheduled, is all. It’s a little unprofessional,” she replies as she glides her hand over the immaculate surface of the work table, pretending to brush off debris that isn’t there just for something to do with her hands. When she glances up at Mick again, he’s got an elbow propped up on the work table as he leans against it, fixing her with the same knowing look, and she feels herself tense as a flicker of irritation ignites in her chest. She clears her throat, throwing back her shoulders and twisting her neck slightly to dispel some of the tension.
Beth still has yet to grow accustomed to Mick’s perpetual state of indifference. He’s calculated with his reactions, never giving her more than an inch, never revealing more than he needs to, and she despises the way it unnerves her. It’s not that Rio is any less onerous, has ever  made it easier for her to get information out of him, but unlike Mick, he can’t seem to help himself when an opportunity presents itself for him to get a rise out of her, for him to go toe-to-toe with her even when he knows he’ll inevitably gets his way. Mick, on the other hand, has an infuriating knack for making her overshare—feeling like she needs to overcompensate for all that he doesn’t contribute to every one of their brief interactions.
“He’s busy,” Mick responds, his voice gruff and tinged with mild amusement. Beth narrows her eyes slightly, tampering down the irritation that flares in her gut at his vague response, knowing that it’ll only give him more satisfaction if she shows it.
The worst part is that she knows he’s reading her like an open book right now, can tell how desperately she wants to ask him what he knows, even though the odds of him actually giving anything up are as slim as her finding them out for herself. She also knows that if there’s any trait of his worth noting that Rio lacks, it’s patience. He’ll wait her out until she inevitably breaks—will let her interrogate him about the unanswered calls, the unacknowledged texts, the radio silence that she has zero explanation for—and he’ll undoubtably report back to Rio about it like he did all those months ago when he was posted up at her house, ensuring that she didn’t try to flee before her borrowed time was up.
Point is, she knows that she won’t have to elaborate on what she means when she asks about him, but she’s almost certain that Mick will play dumb, drag it out, refuse to give her an inch until she’s laying it all out for him, giving him a transparent abridgment of not what she’s asking, but why.
The true killer is that she’s not even entirely sure what the why is, never mind how she would go about justifying it to herself or Mick—he would know immediately, if he doesn’t already, that this has nothing to do with their business relationship.
It’s not that she’s worried, exactly—her patience for being ignored by the men in her life expired long ago—and it’s not like she’s hurt, either. It’s not like she thought that night had changed anything or mended what was broken between them.
(Didn’t it, though?)
The room is dead silent, neither of them exchanging any words as Beth deliberates over whether it’s worth it to pry while Mick, she’s sure, waits patiently on her to make the next move.
It must be at least a full minute before she expels a heavy, conceded breath. She rolls her shoulders back, straightens up, and plasters on a cheery smile, slipping into her customer service persona with a practiced ease.
“Alright then,” she chirps as though it’s no issue at all, ignoring Mick’s bemused snort even as she watches him shake his head to himself out of the corner of her eye. He finally shifts his attention from her to the dark blue duffel on the other end of the work table, watching patiently as she grabs one of the thick straps and lugs it across the tattered wooden surface.
“It’s all there. Take as much time as you need,” she says, her voice sugary enough to bore through tooth enamel. Mick grunts, unaffected, his gloved hands tugging the bag closer to him and drawing the zipper without another word.
He makes quick work of counting the stacks of red-banded cash—always does, really, which is one thing she can say she appreciates about doing the drops with him. 
Despite herself, her mind drifts back to Rio, wondering what could’ve kept him away for nearly three weeks without so much as a text message when, not too long ago, he obliged to practically every impromptu meeting that she called, no matter the time or reason. The thought branches off in several directions until she’s spiraling, working through the possible reasons for his sudden withdrawal from her, and it feels as though someone is dragging a sharpened blade along the seams of her heart, increasing the pressure with each possibility her mind conjures up.
Then: what if he regrets it?
The blade in her chest twitches before it’s tearing through the seams, her chest lurching as her heart splits wide open.
Is that why he’s been avoiding their meetings, she wonders, refusing to so much as hear her voice over the phone? Did the consequences of letting her in again finally rear their ugly heads, infusing him with the very feelings she feared they would? After everything—the sentiments they shared, the walls they bashed down, the desire they surrendered to—has he come to view that night as a mistake?
The mere thought of it hollows her out until she can feel nothing more than her bleeding, battered heart as it echoes throughout the chasm of her chest.
The metallic bite of a zipper yanks Beth from her thoughts just in time for her to catch Mick heaving the duffel off of the table, his work for the night finished. She watches silently as he backs away from the work table, the straps of the bag clutched in one hand while the other raises to his forehead, offering her a two-fingered salute.
“See you next week,” He informs her, curt as ever, before making for the door.
He doesn’t give her a chance to respond, but she hasn’t a clue what she would say if he were to, anyway. There’s no way to pry further about Rio’s whereabouts without inadvertently admitting that his absence concerns her—without insinuating that, god forbid, she misses him—unless— —
Unless she figures them out for herself.
Beth’s gaze follows Mick’s retreating form to the back of the shop, focusing absently on the taut line of his leather jacket as her thoughts work themselves into a frenzy. She watches him peel through the door (with more stealth than anyone of his build should be capable of, she might add), the blinds clacking softly against it as it closes, and just like that, she’s alone.
The silence lends her some clarity with which to sort through her thoughts until one stands out above all the others, echoing against the walls of her skull as if Mick were still in the room with her.
Art class. You know, pencils and chalk and whatnot?
And yeah, Beth thinks, eyes trained on the door as the clattering blinds begin to settle, the stillness of the night just beyond it encompassing her along with a new sense of determination.
Art class.
44 notes · View notes
eternallysarcastic · 3 years
Text
winter moon/ch.3
Okay this took a little bit longer than I thought it would cause I had to figure out a few stuff in the story and its pacing. Good news is I have the next 2 chapters almost ready so the wait between this one and the next shouldn’t be too long! Comments are always appreciated! 
I also post this on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999362/chapters/71169963
Chapter 3
“So, ojou-chan, where are we off to next?” Childe asked you. You were still around the fire, everyone was still too wound up to really sleep - and that meant Childe, seeing as he was the only human in a company of non-mortals that needed little to no sleep.
  “We’re looking for leads as to where she might’ve gone. My stars- I followed her until Liyue and lost track of her. We need to find clues on whether she’s still in Liyue or if she left it.”
  “And she’s a yaksha, she wouldn't dare mingle with the mortals of Liyue Harbour. Most likely she’s as far from them as possible. Not many mortals can withstand a yaksha’s energy.” Xiao continued for you. The teacup Zhongli had handed him remained untouched.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, shortie.” Childe mocked from his place beside you. You could almost immediately see Xiao lose his temper, weapon conjuring in his hand. 
“Hey, hey, there’s no need for that. We should rest and continue on our way once the moon sets.” You tried to reason but Childe had already conjured his own dual water blades. 
  “Come, have some tea with me.” Zhongli patted the seat beside him. You sighed in exasperation as you sat beside him. He handed you a new, hot cup of tea that you gladly accepted as your eyes followed Childe and Xiao out of the cavern.
  “This is going to be a long journey.” You said, listening in on the sounds of blades clashing.
  “Are you sure Yin really is here?” The sudden change of topic startled you and you looked at Zhongli quizzically.
  “What do you mean?” Why would he suddenly bring up your yaksha?
  “My loss of gnosis is very recent. I don't believe I would’ve missed it if someone as powerful as a yaksha stepped onto my territory. Perhaps she is no longer here or she never was in the first place.” He stated as he calmly sipped his tea. “Or perhaps have you come here seeking something else?” He knew something wasn't right with you. He noticed it the moment he saw you, saw it in the way you talked and the moment you had first laid your eyes upon Xiao.
“I-...” He was as perceptive as always, that or because he’d known you since you were a newborn god, had trained you and watched you grow into the feared yet respected Celestial Goddess you once were. “There is something else, that’s true,” you replied. 
 You didn't know how to continue though. How do you explain the sudden desire you’d felt to come back to Liyue, the weird nostalgic feeling you had once you finally stepped in its borders, the constricting of your lungs when you’d first seen Xiao or the mysterious agony that had overwhelmed you when you’d seen the half-frozen tree. 
  Was Zhongli’s trust in you wavering? So soon? On another hand, perhaps he was right. He couldn't have missed the fact that a yaksha had stepped into his domain. He would’ve definitely felt it. Or was it something else? It seemed that since you’d arrived in Liyue there always was something else.
  “Nonetheless, my priority is Yin. I’ve never been this close to finding her. I can’t give up now, Zhongli.” You said, turning to him with pleading eyes. 
“You know I’d never refuse to help you, you don't need to look at me like that. No matter what you say, you are still the current God of the Moon and I would never disobey you.” He stated as a matter of fact, continuing to sip on his tea ever so calmly.
  A silent rage swirled in your chest as you turned your whole body towards him. “I want you to help me because you’re you and I’m me, not because of your duties as an Archon to obey the Celestials. I want you to help me because Yin fought for you in the Archon war when she swore she’d never fight again just because of what you meant to me. Because I know how much she hates herself that she wasn't there when I-” You cut yourself off, you didn't want to finish the sentence. 
 Zhongli’s eyes closed in phantom pain as memories he didn't want to remember resurfaced. Images of your lifeless body, covered in blood flashed before his eyes. He knew that if Yin was with you instead of with him, perhaps what happened to you on the night of your descent from Celestia wouldn't have happened.
 “I’m sorry, Zhongli.” You were just guilt-tripping him at this point with how you were phrasing things. You were never too good at expressing yourself with words.
 “You need not apologise. You are indeed correct. My duties to you as an Archon may be over, but I am still your life long friend and I am willing to help you find Yin no matter what.” If you didn't know him like the back of your hand, you’d say he was emotionless when he said that. But you could hear the underlying determination coming from his words. 
  You smiled at yourself as you drank your tea, “Thank you, Zhongli. I promise you she is here in Liyue. I can feel it. Her constellation has never shone brighter.” Zhongli hummed as he poured himself another cup.
      Something shook you awake from your slumber. You opened your eyes and was met with the golden ones of Xiao and the restless figure of Zhongli. You hadn’t even noticed you had fallen asleep the night before. 
  “Wake up. Childe is missing.” What? 
  “What? How? I thought someone was keeping watch?” You looked around - the fire had long been extinguished, the tea was cold and the moon still hadn’t set. By the looks of it, it was close to early morning.
  Xiao ran a hand through his hair in annoyance. “I was keeping watch outside and Rex Lapis came over to discuss… something. By the time he went back in, the annoying harbinger was gone.” 
  “I see… Then we have no choice but to look for him.” You pulled yourself up. What was Childe up to? “Since you were both outside when he vanished… then there’s only one direction he could’ve gone.” 
   The deeper you walked into the cave the darker it got. You couldn't hear any sounds, even Zhongli couldn't feel any vibration in the stone floor. It was as if Childe had disappeared into thin air. 
  “How much deeper does this cave go? We’re losing light. We should've brought torches.” Xiao pondered. 
 Well, you could help with that couldn't you? You took off one of your gloves and concentrated on the pyro vision within you and brought it forth to your palm, lighting the cave around you. The small crescent moon sigil at the back of your hand glowed gently in response. 
  “You shouldn't do that.” Xiao said, grabbing onto your wrist, looking at the fire, or more likely into the slowly reddening flesh around the flame. 
 Your body had the ability to wield all seven elements but the downsides to that were the fact that it couldn't adapt to just one. Cryo was too cold, Pyro burned you and Electro electrocuted more often than not. But how did Xiao know that? Sure, it wasn't hidden knowledge that the Celestial Gods possessed all elements but it was a strictly kept secret that your bodies couldn't withstand them for long periods of time, so that no one could use that weakness against Celestia itself.
  You looked at Zhongli in question, perhaps he was the one that told him. Out of all the seven Archons, only Zhongli knew of your predicament. But Zhongli wore the same confused expression you did. So how did Xiao know? You decided not to comment on it right now. You had a harbinger to find.
  “Don't worry, I’m okay. This is nothing.” You smiled softly at Xiao. It felt nice to have the normally stone cold yaksha care for something as small as a slight burn on your hand. If you had a heart perhaps it’d skip a beat.
  The deeper you went into the cave the more lost you got in your own thoughts about the previous peculiar events. Of Xiao’s knowledge and his familiarity with you. It felt so out of place.
  “I feel something.” Zhongli spoke up, his deep voice echoed inside the cave. 
  “What is it?” You tried to listen in but you couldn't hear anything. 
  “I can’t tell which way it's coming from.” In front of you were two long, dark corridors.
  “Do we split up?” The moment the words left your mouth, the ground shook beneath your feet. Xiao immediately held you steady by the arm while his free hand found purchase on the nearby wall. “I guess we don't need to split up after all.” 
  The rumbling of earth was coming from the right corridor. When the earthquake stopped, you walked forward following the loud noises. You could see an exit at the end of the constricting tunnel, dim light that wasn't there before, shining through it.
  Out of nowhere, Xiao gently grabbed your wrist again. “You should extinguish that before we go any further.” Ah, yes, Childe wasn't supposed to know. You quickly extinguished the flame in your palm and was about to put on your glove when you noticed Xiao wasn’t letting go of your wrist.
  “I know some herbs that help with burns. We should look for some later.” He said, looking intently at your reddened palm before finally letting go of your wrist and walking forward. Instead of the wound itself burning, it was the skin that he had touched along with your reddening cheeks. 
  Before you could dwell on the action even more there was another earthquake and this time you could hear the sounds of fighting and… a roar? What exactly was at the end of the tunnel? You hurried til the end of it just in time to watch Childe being thrown high into the air by what seemed to be a moving assortment of… boulders? It looked like big rocks being held together by pure elemental energy. It stood in the middle of a giant cave opening with light shining through a hole in the ceiling.
  “I haven't seen one of these in a long time.” Zhongli seemed all to calm as he mused with a hand on his chin. 
  “Comrades! Took you long enough to join me!” Childe had noticed you from across the field and waved enthusiastically before he was thrown into the air once more. 
“We should help!” You ran without even thinking, the instincts beaten into you kicking in. Xiao told Childe you had an electro vision, so you had to be mindful not to impulsively use any other element. That seemed easy enough. You could do it.
  “Don't run into danger out of the blue!” Xiao growled from behind you as he ran after you and toward the stone creature.
  “I wonder if they can take down a geovishap by themselves and her… being able to use only one of her elements, she’s not used to that.” Zhongli stood silently at the sidelines to observe you fight. He wondered if you still used the techniques he taught you. 
  “I am not going to believe you if you say you only heard of the commotion until now.” Childe landed beside you and wiped the blood at the side of his mouth.
  “Where did you even go?” You asked him, paying half attention to the stone monster’s position. It seemed to have backed up a little, wary of the newcomers. 
  “My hands were itching for a fight after the disappointing one I had with this little adeptus,” Childe replied, panting. 
 He looked a little beaten up which surprised you a little. When you'd watched him fight Xiao last night, he looked like a very talented fighter.
“You were really this disappointed over losing? Don't fret it, not many can beat me.” Xiao said from beside you. 
 He looked just a little bit smug, which put an annoyed expression on Childe’s face.
“I didn't lose! I was just -” 
  “Can you stop fighting for just a moment? We need to find a way to stop this thing.” You interrupted him. 
 You didn't need them fighting each other and the giant boulder that looked as if it made up its mind that you were the enemy and was getting ready to charge at you. 
 “We can't attack it head first without thinking of some strategy. Not many elements work against geo creatu-” You stopped. 
 Childe was already charging at it, a water bow in his hand and trying to shoot the tiny shiny thing on its forehead. Something you guessed was a potential weak point. You sighed in annoyance and looked at Xiao, trying to silently communicate to him. He gave you a small nod. You both charged at the monster, following Childe. All the while you manifested a white sword in your hand, infusing it with as much electro as you could muster.
 Childe’s water attacks didn't even phase the monster, you tried to stupify it with your electro charges but it wasn't’ working. Xiao was trying to immobilise its feet but it proved futile. It’s geo skin seemed harder than any other geo enemy’s. You knew if you and Childe weren't there to get in the way of his attacks he would’ve been done with the monster already.
 You noticed that last night, too. How swift and fast his movements were, with every swing from his spear precise and thought out. The way he moved felt like art to you.
 “Nothing seems to work against it.” You said after you put some distance between it.
 “We just need to take out that silver sigil from its forehead.” Childe jumped next to you, having been flung yet again in the air. “I accidentally awoke it by placing that thing into some engraved stone. Never thought it’d awake a giant angry boulder monster like that,” he chuckled. 
 He was enjoying this, this fight and the fact that he couldn't beat the creature as easily. The masochist.
 “I need to take a closer look. If the right strategy would be to try and take out the sigil then why do you have us trying to beat it into submission.” You looked pointedly at Childe and he only laughed at you in response. 
 “I’ll watch your back while you try to get close to its forehead. Be careful of its arms - they may look like they are not even going for you but when they hit the ground, it’ll send you flying.” Xiao spoke. He didn't have one scratch on him, his fast movements evaded every attack of the monster.
 “As much as I’d like to continue this exciting fight, I guess we do need to head out soon. Be careful, ojou-chan.” Childe winked at you and then he was off.
The harbinger distracted the creature while Xiao leapt around you, watching its every movement, deflecting some of the strikes coming towards you. After jumping around, circling around the creature you managed to land on its back. The moment it felt you it tried to fling you off, shaking uncontrollably. Yelping, you tried to hold onto some of its stone scales and slowly climbed up to its head. 
 Its head was even more unsteady than the rest of its body, swinging it around wildly. You were just about to grab the sigil before you lost your footing and nearly slipped off save for one hand trying to desperately hold on. You struggled to pull yourself up as you were swung around. You barely managed to grab onto the sigil, eyes widening at the symbol on it before you were completely thrown off from the creature. 
  Your thoughts were still fogged with the surprise you felt to even try to land a clean landing. You closed your eyes and braced for impact, but it never came. Instead you felt warm arms catch you and swiftly jump from stone to stone. You opened your eyes to see Xiao, eyes concentrated on not getting hit by one of the many crumbling stones.
 Looking back you watched the creature continuously hit the ground with its crumbling arms, creating one shock wave after another. This couldn't be good and Xiao knew that as well.
 “Hold tight.” He muttered into your ear as he held you closer. 
 You weaved your arms around him and hid your head in his neck as you watched the creature wail pitifully as it crumbled away into nothing. However, the ground still continued to shake as it split in two as the ceiling caved in on itself. It was complete chaos from that moment on.  You watched Childe stumble before he was steadied by a stone pillar made by Zhongli who you guessed was nearby, after that you lost sight of them both.
 The last thing you heard was Xiao’s curse as more heavy stones fell and everything went black.
57 notes · View notes
wizisbored · 3 years
Text
right im rearranging the sk ghosts au again because series 3 happened and i have more thoughts
just kinda matched up the characters in terms of Vibes
mike and alison - paul and emma
pretty much same setup as mike and alison except that emma has far less patience for the ghosts bullshit. many a time paul has walked into her just absolutely losing her shit at a completely empty room.
aaand ill be sticking the rest under a cut because Long
lady button - linda monroe
a high class lady like fanny but also some kinda priestess? still a prophet? idk im still figuring it out but wiggly was still very much a Thing in her life and as well as telling emma that a LADY does not use such language she is also trying to introduce her to her Exciting New Religion.
captain - mcnamara
quite similar to the captain but less repressed. constantly wanting to give yet another talk on the fundamental truths of love and the human heart. also badgers both paul and emma to wear watches despite the fact that only one can hear him.
robin - zazzalil
robins a smart guy under all the funney caveman jokes, and so is zaz. she keeps coming up with inventions that already exist and trying to convince emma that stone-age technology is the best solution to whatever problems shes having. peoples reactions to this tend to range from finding it funny to being annoyed by her. deep down shes just desperately trying to prove shes not obsolete as a prehistoric inventor.
kitty - keeri
just wants someone to hang out with / blindly follow. hangs out with emma because shes a new friend who hasnt gotten tired of being followed yet. also pals with zazzalil because a lot of the time she doesnt think to point out that her new ideas have already been done.
mary - charlotte
mary but with more Sadness. some tension between her and zaz because yknow. Fire. somehow managed to sneak a waterskin of alcohol to her own execution. its a long-standing debate between the ghosts as to whether the alcohol a) is actually able to affect her, and b) even stays in her stomach long enough to have any effect before getting teleported back to the skin like thomas’ letter.
pat - jemilla
was running a wilderness survival / bushcraft camp on the grounds when there was a yet-undecided-upon Accident. was initially interested in zaz because of the whole wilderness thing, but jemilla pointing out the recklessness in her stories often led to squabbling so their relationship is now a little tense for now :)
thomas - hidgens
doesnt have the romantic ambitions of thomas (partly because hes like twice emmas age and partially because im just not a fan of that trope), but is instead convinced that emma is in fact very interested in his musical persuits and wants to hear about them. she does not.
julian - ted
maybe not an mp, but thinks himself just as important. all the female ghosts apart from charlotte strongly dislike him but he hasnt noticed. have you seen that post saying alison should start just walking through julian whenever hes being shitty? yeah that. if he gets to far into emmas personal space she will wave her hand through his face.
humphrey - bill
just a Nice Dude who happens to be in two pieces. when emma tells paul about him hes constantly worried hes going to step on (in?) bill’s head and hurt him, and encourages her to get a ghost to put it back on. bill appreciates the concern despite the fact that paul would have no clue if he had trod on him.
plague pit ghosts - tto family
died of dysentary. just kinda vibing in the basement. also, sww insisted on adopting hannah at some point so shes there too.
jemima - hannah
sings what if tomorrow comes instead of ring around the roses. as mentioned, lives in the basement with the dickrats. mostly stays down there to avoid linda - she hates the woman for reasons she cant quite get into words, as well as the wiggly doll.
dante - a wiggly doll
kinda terrifying. hes a little bigger than an official wiggly doll, with glass eyes, and looking disturbingly like taxidermy despite not being a real animal. emma is the only living person who actually knows what the hell this weird old cuthulu-looking stuffed thing in the house is, since linda has lectured her about him multiple times. shes told paul as well but he is very confused about it. thing is, practically everyone who visits the house has their own theory about what the fuck that nightmare doll is, and emma has to nod and 'yeah maybe' along while linda rants in her ear about her dark god.
pidgeon - the duck
pretty much the same as the pidgeon except for the fact that zazzalil keeps going back and forth on wether it should be considered sacred (a few thousand years and all this ghost stuff has got her kinda confused about her spirituality/relegion)
8 notes · View notes
bloodboundismylife · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
This obviously isn't Choices related, but I really wanted to make a post about this new book series that's coming out in March.
Okay, I write for a newspaper and I interviewed one of the authors of these books (Mikel Wilson) and I really think this series is going to be a hit. There are seven authors in total (6 of whom are women): Jessica Cage, Delizhia Jenkins, E.M. Lacey, Kish Knight, Jennifer Laslie, K.R. Fajardo, and Mikel Wilson. They are all fantasy/sci-fi authors, five of them are black, and four are USA Today Bestselling authors.
Basically, Rise of the Elites (at the moment) focuses on six supernatural beings who are chosen by the High Spirit to serve as Elites. Elites are responsible for watching over the supernatural world and the human world, as well as keeping the balance between light and dark. The supernatural world is called Penumbra and is a parallel to the human world.
The six Elites are Elsfaer (a Phoenix), Adaya (a dragon), Mei Ching (a Jaguar shifter), Lilith (a vampire), Onyx (an Orc), and Dix (an Angel). Each one of them is a WOC and, honestly, they all sound really badass 😅
Each book in the series is going to be released one after the other beginning on March 1 with Reign of the White Phoenix. All six books can be pre-ordered now on Amazon for $0.99 if you have a Kindle or the Kindle app.
I haven't read a single book by any of these authors, but from my interview, I think this will be an exciting series to read, especially if you love fantasy settings.
I’m going to put the summaries of the books and links to the authors' websites/Facebook pages under a cut so this post doesn’t get crazy long.
Also tagging @kinda-iconic​ and @choices-addict-25​ since I’ve already mentioned this series to you guys.
Rise of the White Phoenix
Hidden since birth from her own people, Elsfaer was born with a distinct marking that covered her entire body. Before she could walk, she was seen as a threat to their existence. But there were those who believed that she should be protected at all costs.
With the call for a new Elite, the High Spirit chose Elsfaer as the next to lead the Phoenix people. The very people she’d been told to fear all her life. But unlike the rest of her people who burned either a blue or red flame, Elsfaer’s fire was the hottest of whites.
Her white flame was a sign of change, of a new order for her people. Unfortunately, Phoenixes weren’t exactly open to change, but Elsfaer knows something they don’t. The balance of the Phoenix has been thrown off and if she doesn’t fix it, their flames will burn out for the last time.
House of the Blue Flame
The Houses are divided. A war is brewing between the clans. And our Elite has fallen.
My House - the House of the Blue Flame - has been the center of envy and fear by the other dragon clans for centuries. My grandfather and his father and so forth, protected our people as both the strongest breed of dragon and as Elites.
And now it's my turn.
My name is Adaya, granddaughter of former Elite, Horace "The Devourer" and next in line to stand in his place. As my grandfather once said, "A nation cannot stand if the houses fall..."
Order of the Shadow Dynasty
Jaguar shifter Mei Ching is underqualified for the job at hand, but with the mark of the Elite appearing on her arm, she knows she must protect her position in order to ensure the safety of her people. The wolves have reigned for long enough.
But Mei’s not only been chosen as the next Elite, she’s also been tasked with discovering the cure for the virus ravaging the shifters. With her friend Tao by her side, they must unravel the clues left by the High Spirit, but there’s just one other problem. Mei is pretty sure Tao is her one true mate.
Between defending her place as the next Elite, suppressing her primal urges, and searching all over China and Penumbra for the cure, Mei isn’t so sure she’ll be able to survive the next thirty days.
Ascension of the Blood Throne
Christian is the prince of the vampires and next in line now that their Elite Vampire King is dead. To claim his rightful place on the throne, he must first find a bride, Sometimes the best laid plans can't go off without a hitch.
Lilith, a recently turned vampire, is just your average teenager. Thrown into a struggle not her own, and fighting to figure out her growing powers, she must choose sides between the vampire hunters or the very creatures that turned her. When the Prince sets his sights on her best friend Mackinzie as his bride, he may become the hunted.
Sides will be chosen, powers will clash, but will Christian be ready to take the throne in time? Sink your teeth into a fantasy tale with a vampire twist no one will see coming in the end.
Trials of the Black Throne
Onyx Jones learned long ago that attention can leave a trail of blood. To avoid it, she leads an unimpressive life, one that lets her blend into the background. But her simple life turns upside down when a trio of goons show up at her door spinning crazy tales.
They say she’s the heir to a throne in the Orc Kingdom of Oracaii, chosen by the High Spirit, and destined to by the next Elite for their kind. In order to help her people, she’ll have to fight for a throne she knew nothing about.
She must travel to Penumbra. And in less than three days, she’ll need to learn about Orcs, the trials of the Black Throne, and how to defend herself. With a questionable cat shifter as her companion, and the only link to her father, she’s not sure she can survive the journey, much less stay alive in battle.
Fellowship of the Last Fallen
Long exiled from the heavens, Dix knows her place as ‘one of the Fallen’, so when two Archangels show up on Earth to take her back to Fifth Heaven, she’s stunned. And whether she wants the job or not, she’s been chosen as the next elite. With rogues wreaking havoc, and the higher-ups releasing the slow-burning flames to destroy their shadowy world among the clouds, the Angels need her help. But as she takes her position as Elite, the Council she thought would guide her have abandoned their post in protest of her coronation. To make matters worse, the old Elite’s brother has come to her with a secret matter that could get them both cast into the flames. Can she juggle her responsibilities and keep her people safe along with her heart?
Info on all the authors can be found on Amazon, but these are some other sites to check them out.
https://www.jessicacage.com/bio
https://authorjlaslie.com/books/
https://www.riseoftheelites.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Rise-of-the-Elites-105340694578027/
https://www.bookbub.com/profile/e-m-lacey-544d7b61-417f-4dc8-85e8-2a12e80ea168?list=author_books
https://www.kishknight.com/
7 notes · View notes
ducktastic · 4 years
Text
2020 Gameological Awards
Over on the Gameological Discord, we have an annual tradition of writing up our games of the year not as a ranked list but rather as answers to a series of prompts. Here are my personal choices for the year that was 2020.
Favorite Game of the Year
Tumblr media
I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into Paradise Killer. I knew that I liked the vaporwave resort aesthetic from the game’s trailer and figured I was in for a Danganronpa-style murder mystery visual novel with an open-ended murder mystery at its core. Those assumptions were… half-right? The game definitely plays out like the exploration bits of Danganronpa set on the island from Myst but with far simpler puzzles. What I didn’t expect was to fall so deeply in love with the environment—its nooks and crannies, its millennia of lore, its brutalist overlap of idol worship, consumerism, and mass slaughter. It makes sense that the world of Paradise Killer is its strongest feature, since the cast of NPCs don’t really move around, leaving you alone with the world for the overwhelming majority of your experience as you bounce back and forth between digging around for clues and interrogating potential witnesses. And despite what the promo materials indicated, there IS a definitive solution to the crimes you’re brought in to investigate, the game just lets you make judgment based on whatever evidence you have at the time you’re ready to call it a day, so if you’re missing crucial evidence you might just make a compelling enough case for the wrong person and condemn them to eternal nonexistence. Am I happy with the truth at the end of the day? No, and neither is anybody else I’ve spoken to who completed the game, but we all were also completely enthralled the entire time and our dissatisfaction has less to do with the game and more to do with the ugly reality of humanity. I’ve always been of the mindset that “spoilers” are absolute garbage and that a story should be just as good whether you know the twist or not and any story that relies on surprising the audience with an unexpected reveal is not actually that good a story, but Paradise Killer is a game about piecing together your own version of events so I feel that it’s vital to the gameplay experience that people go in knowing as little as possible and gush all about it afterwards. Just trust me, if the game looks even remotely intriguing to you, go for it. I’ve had just as much fun talking about the game after I finished it with friends just getting started as I did actually solving its mysteries myself.
Best Single Player Game
Tumblr media
I honestly missed out on the buzz for In Other Waters at launch, so I’m happy I had friends online talking it up as Black Friday sales were coming along. The minimal aesthetic of his underwater exploration game allows the focus to shift more naturally to the game’s stellar writing as a lone scientist goes off in search of her mentor and the secrets they were hiding on an alien world. It only took a few hours for me to become completely absorbed in this narrative and keep pushing forward into increasingly dangerous waters. In Other Waters might just be the best sci-fi story I experienced all year and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys sci-fi novels, regardless of their experience with video games.
Best Multiplayer Game
Tumblr media
Look, we all know this year sucked. 2020 will absolutely be chronicled in history books as a fascinating and deeply depressing time in modern history where we all stayed inside by ourselves and missed our friends and family. It was lonely and it was bleak. Which is why it made my heart glow so much more warmly every time I got a letter from an honest-to-goodness real-life friend in Animal Crossing New Horizons. Knowing that they were playing the same game I was and hearing about their experiences and sending each other wacky hats or furniture, it lightened the days and made us feel that little bit more connected. Sure, when the game first launched we would actually take the time to visit one another’s islands, hang out, chat in real-time, and exchange gifts, but we all eventually got busy with Zoom calls, sourdough starters, and watching Birds of Prey twenty-two times. Still, sending letters was enough. It was and still is a touching little way to show that we’re here for one another, if not at the exact same time.
Favorite Ongoing Game
Tumblr media
Zach Gage is one of my favorite game designers right now, and when I heard he was releasing a game called Good Sudoku I was sold sight unseen. The game as released was… fine. It’s sudoku and it’s pleasant, but it was also buggy and overheated my phone in a way I hadn’t seen since Ridiculous Fishing (also by Zach Gage) seven years ago. Thankfully, the most glaring bugs have been fixed and I can now enjoy popping in every day for some quick logic puzzle goodness. Daily ranked leaderboards keep me coming back again and again, the steady ramp of difficulty in the arcade and eternal modes means I can always chase the next dopamine rush of solving increasingly complex puzzles. It’s not a traditional “ongoing” game the way, say, Fortnite and Destiny are, but I’m happy to come back every day for sudoku goodness.
Didn't Click For Me
Tumblr media
With Fortnite progressively losing me over the course of 2020, finalizing with my wholesale “never again” stance after Epic boss Tim Sweeney compared Fortnite demanding more money from Apple to the American Civil Rights movement (no, absolutely not), I dipped my toe into a number of new “battle pass”-style online arena types of games, and while Genshin Impact eventually got its hooks into me, Spellbreak absolutely did not. With graphics straight out of The Dragon Prince and the promise of a wide variety of magic combat skills to make your character your own, the game seemed awfully tempting, but my first few experiences were aimless and joyless, with no moment of clarity to make me understand why I should keep coming back. Maybe they’ll finesse the game some more in 2021, or a bunch of my friends will get hooked and lure me back, but for now I am a-okay deleting this waste of space on my Switch and PC.
"Oh Yeah, I Did Play That Didn't I?"
Tumblr media
I remember being really excited for Murder By Numbers. Ace Attorney-style crime scene investigation visual novel with Picross puzzles for the evidence, art by the creators of Hatoful Boyfriend, and music by the composer of Ace Attorney itself?! Sounds like a dream come true. But the pixel-hunt nature of the crime scene investigations was more frustrating than fun, the picross puzzles were not particularly great, and the game came out literally a week before the entire world went into lockdown which makes it feel more like seven years ago than just earlier this year. I remember being marginally charmed by the game once it was in my hands, but as soon as my mind shifted to long-term self care, Murder By Numbers went from hot topic to cold case.
Most Unexpected Joy
Tumblr media
I was looking forward to Fuser all year. As a dyed-in-the-wool DropMix stan, the prospect of a spiritual sequel to DropMix on all major digital platforms without any of the analogue components was tremendously exciting, and I knew I’d have a lot of fun making mixes by myself and posting them online for the world to hear. What I didn’t expect, however, was the online co-op mode to be such a blast! Up to four players take turns making 32 bars of mashups, starting with whatever the player before handed them and adding their own fingerprints on top. It sounds like it should just be a mess of cacophony, but every session I’ve played so far has been just the best dance party I’ve had all year, and everyone not currently in control of the decks (including an audience of spectators) can make special requests for what the DJ should spin and tap along with the beat to great super-sized emoji to show how much they’re enjoying the mix. Literally the only times my Apple Watch has ever warned me of my heightened heart rate have been the times I was positively bouncing in place rocking out to co-op freestyle play in Fuser.
Best Music
youtube
Only one video game this year had tunes that were so bumpable they were upgraded to my general “2020 jams” playlist alongside Jeff Rosenstock, Run the Jewels, and Phoebe Bridgers, and that game was Paradise Killer. 70% lo-fi chill beats to study/interrogate demons to, 20% gothic atmospheric bangers, 10% high-energy pop jazz, this soundtrack was just an absolute joy to swim around in both in and out of gameplay.
Favorite Game Encounter
Tumblr media
It’s wild that in a landscape where games let me live out my wildest fantasies, the single moment that lit me up in a way that stood out to me more than any other was serving Neil the right drink in Coffee Talk. Over the course of the game, you serve a variety of hot drinks to humans, werewolves, vampires, orcs, and more, all while chatting with your customers and learning more about their lives and relationships. The most mysterious customer, though, is an alien life form who adopts the name Neil. They do not know what they want to drink and claim it doesn’t make a difference because they cannot taste it. Everybody else wants *something*. Neil is just ordering for the sake of fitting in and exploring the Earth experience. It’s only in the second playthrough that attentive baristas will figure out what to serve Neil, unlocking the “true” ending in the process. Seeing the typically stoic Neil actually emote when they tasted their special order drink? What an absolute treat that was.
Best Free DLC of the Year
Tumblr media
It’s still only a couple of days old at the time I’m writing this, but Marvel’s Avengers just added Kate Bishop, aka Hawkeye, and THANK GOODNESS. Almost every character in the game at launch just smashed the endless waves of robot baddies with their fists and that looks exhausting and uncomfortable. Hawkeye (the game calls her Kate Bishop, but come on, she’s been Hawkeye in the comics for over 14 years, let’s show her some respect) uses A SWORD. FINALLY! Aside from that, I’m just having a blast shooting arrows all over the place. She and Ms Marvel are the most likable characters in the game so far, so I hope they keep adding more of the Young Avengers and Champions to the game, and if the recently announced slate of Marvel movies and tv shows are any indication (with America Chavez, Cassie Lang, and Riri Williams all coming soon to the MCU), that seems to be what Marvel is pushing for across all media
Most Accessible Game
Tumblr media
Nintendo is, first and foremost, a toy company. They got their start in toys and cards long before video games was a thing, and they still do more tests to ensure their video game hardware is childproof than anybody else in the industry (remember how they made Switch cartridges “taste bad” so kids wouldn’t eat them?). This year, Nintendo got to rekindle some of their throwback, simplistic, toys-and-cards energy with Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics, a Switch collection of timeless family-friendly games like Chess, Mancala, and Backgammon, along with “toy” versions of sports like baseball, boxing, and tennis for a virtual parlor room of pleasant time-wasters. The games were all presented with charming li’l explainers from anthropomorphic board game figurines, and the ability to play quick sessions of Spider Solitaire on the touch screen while I binged The Queen’s Gambit on Netflix made Clubhouse Games one of my most-played titles of the year. Plus, local play during socially-distant friend hangs was an excellent way to make us feel like we were much closer than we were physically allowed to be as friends knocked each other’s block off in the “toy boxing” version of Rock’em Sock’em Robots.
"Waiting for Game-dot"
Tumblr media
I get that everyone loves Disco Elysium. I saw it on everyone’s year-end lists last year. I finally bought it with an Epic Games Store coupon this year. This year was a long enough slog of depressing post-apocalyptic drudgery, I didn’t want to explore a whole nother one in my leisure time. I’ll get to it… someday.
Game That Made Me Think
youtube
Holovista was an iPhone game I played over the course of two or three days based on the recommendation of some trusted colleagues on Twitter and oh my goodness was I glad that I played it. What starts as a chill vaporwave photography game steadily progresses into an exploration of psychological trauma, relationships with friends and family, and the baggage we carry with us from our pasts. In this exceptionally hard year, I badly needed this story about spending time alone with your personal demons and finding your way back to the people who love and support you. Just like with Journey and Gone Home, I walked away from Holovista feeling a rekindled appreciation for the people in my life.
11 notes · View notes
pikapeppa · 4 years
Text
Felassan/f!Lavellan: Ar Lasa Mala Revas
Chapter 27 of The Love That Grows From Violence (post-Trespasser Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is posted!
100% fluff, smut, and more feelsy fluff. ALSO GIFT ART, which needs its own post because I am beside myself with feels. 😭❤️
~9700 words so long omfg. Only the first part is posted here. Read the whole thing on AO3. 
*******************
A few days later, when the sky was a curtain of deep midnight blue studded with stars, Tamaris sat on the roof curled into Felassan’s shoulder, watching as the smoke of their shared joint drifted from his mouth in delicate wisps and curls. 
He offered her the joint, and she took it and brought it to her lips. “What do you think we should do when we finally leave this house?” she asked.
He leaned back casually on one hand. “It depends on what’s happening in the world by the time we are ready to leave. Who knows? Maybe the qunari will start moving south by then. Or maybe Tevinter will succeed at pushing the qunari back.” He smiled cheekily. “Maybe someone will assassinate the Emperor of Orlais in a sudden coup d’état.”
Tamaris lifted an eyebrow and blew out a stream of smoke. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to set up for such a coup.”
“Would that I had the resources to set up something so devious,” he said. “But that would probably plunge your world into even more chaos, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Thank you for that very wise spy advice,” she said wryly.
He nodded politely. “You’re very welcome.”
She smirked and took another drag from the joint, then blew out a little cloud of smoke and held out the joint. “Seriously though. Isn’t there anything you want to do? Barring the stuff that we might have to do. Isn’t there anywhere you’d like to travel to?”
He took the joint. “It would be interesting to visit the Arbour Wilds — to see the Temple of Mythal again.”
She raised an eyebrow. “There’s no one there anymore.”
“Exactly,” he said. “It’s perfect for scavenging. There might be clues as to where Mythal’s dragon or her amulet are being kept, or whether her dragon is even alive anymore. It is possible that the Well of Sorrows was not the only sacred treasure they were guarding.”
Tamaris raised her eyebrows. “Oh shit. That’s true. Okay, we should go there.”
“We could,” Felassan said. “Or we could go somewhere else.”
She gave him a chiding look, and he smiled unconcernedly and handed her the joint. “Where do you want to go, avise? Which direction would we strike out in if you were given the choice?”
She sighed and gazed idly at the smouldering tip of the joint. “I… ah, I’ve been thinking for a while that I should go see my clan. Those who aren’t in Wycome still, I mean.”
“Where are they now?”
“They’re a short ways from Starkhaven right now,” she said. “It’s not that far from Kirkwall, so I don’t really have an excuse.”
He cocked his head. “You were avoiding them?”
She hesitated. She genuinely hadn’t had time to go see her clan after the explosion at the Conclave, and things had only gotten busier from a political and peacekeeping standpoint after Corypheus was dead. 
But if Tamaris was honest, it was more than just Inquisition business that had stopped her from visiting her clan. And there was a reason she had volunteered to spy on the Conclave in the first place, all those years ago.
She brought the joint to her lips. “I was avoiding them, yeah.”
“Why?”
“I was…” She sighed, then gave Felassan a hard look. “I love my clan, all right? I love them, and I think they’re great. But Dalish clans grow up knowing every bit of each other’s business. We’re very close, and it’s very hard to keep secrets. It’s part of what makes us such a tight community — the entire clan is really just one big family. There are no strangers in a clan, only family.” She ran her hand through her hair. “But it also makes it difficult to… to forget when something bad happens to someone.”
He tilted his head. “You were constantly reminded of Marin.”
“Yes,” she said. “And – look, it’s not that I want to forget him. I – I’ll never forget him. He’s been dead for years and I still think of him almost every day. But it’s one thing to think of him randomly because something reminds me of him, and it’s another thing to think of him because he’s all anyone ever sees when they look at me. When he’s all I ever thought about when I looked at my parents.” She exhaled hard and rubbed her forehead. “The Inquisition was a pain in the ass a lot of the time, but I was able to… I wasn’t ‘poor Marin’s sister’ anymore, and that was… gods, I feel like an asshole saying it, but it was a relief.”
“You had a chance to start over,” Felassan said.
She looked at him. His tone was neutral but his eyes were warm, and her shoulders loosened at his lack of judgment. “Yes,” she said. “I was able to… to be someone who wasn’t forever tied to my failure to protect my family. And as the Inquisitor, I became the opposite. I was the person they saw as the one who protected everyone.” She snorted and lifted the joint to her mouth once more. “Fucking ironic, isn’t it?”
“Did your clan really see you as someone who failed to protect your family?” he asked.
She blew out a mouthful of smoke. “I was someone who failed to protect my family. He got dragged off because I couldn’t talk the Templars into calming down.”
Felassan smiled faintly. “I hardly believe that the Templars were inclined to listen. Especially if Marin had already hurt some of them.”
Tamaris swallowed hard. “He, uh… he killed one of them, actually. And hurt a couple more. But he didn’t mean to.”
Felassan nodded an acknowledgement. “If that’s the case, his fate was sealed, and not by you. That wasn’t your fault.” He took the joint from her fingers.
She frowned at him. “What do you mean, his fate was sealed? You really think there was nothing I could have done?”
“Oh, something could certainly have been done,” Felassan said. “But I doubt your clan was willing or ready to start a war against the Chantry.”
Tamaris stared at him as he brought the joint to his lips. “You’re being pretty cold-hearted about this,” she accused.
He released a mouthful of smoke before replying. “Cold-heartedness is not my intention. My intention is to point out that it was not your fault. Look at the bigger picture, and you’ll realize that short of pitting your clan against the Templar Order, there was little you could have done.” He held out the joint to her.
She glared at him, then looked away and took a breath to calm herself. He wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t told herself at one point or another, though she never quite believed her own pep talks in this regard.
She believed Felassan, though. Galling as it was to admit, it meant more to hear him saying this than telling it to herself. 
He was still talking. “There was little you could have done at that time, at least. From what I read in This Shit Is Weird, you certainly had a hand in what happened to the Templar Order after the Conclave.”
She frowned slightly as she took the joint from him. “What do you mean?”
“You publicly supported the mages over the Templars,” he said. “The Templars’ ranks were decimated, save for those who came over to your side.”
“Yeah, but the Templars still exist,” Tamaris said.
“You tore them down to their foundations,” he said. “And the person who ultimately controls them now is your former spymaster. They may have taken Marin from you, but you saw that they were taken to heel. It took time, but you got your justice in the end. The hottest flames take some time to build, avise,” he said knowingly. He pulled from the joint, then exhaled the smoke and shot her a sly smile. “Some might even say you took the Vir’Felassan.”
The way of the slow arrow, she thought. She gazed at him with a combination of exasperation and affection. Trust him to find some way of seeing her haphazard stumbling with the Inquisition as a convoluted but purposeful path toward a bigger goal.  
She pulled from the joint, then let out a sigh of smoke and leaned into his side once more. “Anyway, that’s, um… yeah. That’s part of the reason I haven’t been back to see my clan.”
“What’s the rest of the reason?” he asked.
She lifted an eyebrow sardonically. “Um, that I was fucking the Dread Wolf and didn’t know it?”
He snorted a laugh. “Letting the Dread Wolf take you would have caused a stir, I imagine.”
Tamaris smirked and held out the joint, and his fingers brushed hers as he took it. “Are there none in your clan who joined his ranks?”
She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “There were some. Maybe a dozen in total.”
Felassan smiled faintly. “Whatever happened to ‘the clan is family’?”
Tamaris tsked and punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t be an asshole. We’re a family, not a bunch of single-minded drones like the qunari. If some of them got swayed by the messages that  Solas’s operatives were putting out, I can’t blame them.” She shot him a resentful look. “You know what does piss me off, though? Solas looked down on the Dalish so much, then he goes and recruits us anyway. That’s pretty fucking manipulative.”
“It is, yes,” Felassan said.
She frowned. “That’s all you have to say about it?”
He gave her a knowing look that was tinted with melancholy. “Don’t tell me you never manipulated anyone during your time as the Inquisitor. Don’t tell me such a lie.”
She wilted. “Fine, fine, you have a point.” Truthfully, she didn’t have it in her to be particularly angry anymore about the little things Solas had done. With everything that was brewing across the continent these days, it almost felt like she should save her anger for when it would serve her the most.
There was another brief and slightly morose pause as they passed the joint back and forth. Then, as usual, Felassan broke the silence. “So you want to go visit your clan, then?”
“I should,” she said.
He nodded and blew out some smoke, and there was another pause — one that felt loaded this time. As the silence stretched between them to an increasingly awkward degree, Tamaris’s heart began to thrum with nerves. 
Just fucking ask, she scolded herself. She chewed the inside of her cheek, then took a deep breath. “Felassan, will you come visit my clan with me?”
“Of course,” he said easily. “What else would I be doing?”
Her heart flipped in her chest. She stared incredulously at him until his lips curled in a smile. “Why are you gaping at me?” he asked.
“I…” She trailed off for a second, then gave him a skeptical look. “What, no questions, no complaints? Just yes?”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Was I unclear when I said we would be travelling together when we leave this house? If you’re going to see your clan, then so am I.”
A warm feeling spread through her ribcage and up to her cheeks. “But you don’t like the Dalish,” she said weakly. “You think we’re close-minded and all that shit.”
He shrugged and extinguished the butt of the joint on the roof. “It’s possible that I was wrong. About your clan, at the very least.”
She scoffed. “Possible, huh?”
He gave her a chiding smirk. “I can eat my own words, avise. They’re especially tasty when you slather them with evidence of the ways that I was wrong.”
She grinned goofily at him, then laughed and tucked a stray lock of hair over her ear. “A man who happily admits when he was wrong? What a catch. Maybe I shouldn’t take you back to the clan. All the unattached hunters will try to snap you up.”
“They can’t snap me up,” he said. “You’ve already caught me.”
Her heart leapt. She suddenly remembered the conversation she’d had with Dorian — that conversation where she’d described her feelings for Felassan: he caught me thoroughly. Now, to hear Felassan describing himself in a similar way…
He chuckled. “Tamaris, if you smile any wider, your face may split in two.”
She laughed giddily and shoved him. “Fuck you.”
He hooked his arm around her neck and pulled her close to kiss her temple, and they scuffled playfully for a moment before settling together once more.
Tamaris sighed happily and patted his thigh. “My mother might ask what your intentions are for me.”
“Hm,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Then I should probably come up with an answer that won’t make your face turn a deep and charming shade of red.”
She scoffed. “You’re such a fucking menace.”
“Thank you, Tamaris,” he said pleasantly. “I try.”
She beamed at him, then settled snugly against his side. They were quiet for a moment, and Tamaris indulged herself in a girlish fantasy of Felassan meeting her parents and telling half-sarcastic stories to her clan, then curling up with her in an aravel in the fragrant quiet of the woods: a stolen moment of peace before they went on to do more important things. 
She eventually squeezed his thigh. “Is there anything else you want to do when we leave the house? Like… trying to find Briala, maybe?”
He huffed in amusement. “You really want me to find her, don’t you?”
“I just think it’s sad that she doesn’t know you’re okay. Or that you’re even alive,” Tamaris said. “Whether you think she needs your help or not, I bet she’d want to hear from you.”
“She will,” Felassan assured her. “We’ll get a message to her.”
“How?” Tamaris asked.
“I was thinking of scratching obscure symbols into trees for her to find.” He smirked at Tamaris. “It’s the kind of thing she used to think the Dalish would do.”
She gave him a chiding look. “Felassan.”
He sighed dramatically. “All right, since you insist. I was thinking about coded letters, sent to different places where her most loyal cells used to be. The code would have to be premised on knowledge that she and I share, but not something Fen’Harel would know as well.”
She straightened with interest. “Do you have a code like that already?”
“Not exactly,” he said. “But I’ll think of something.”
Tamaris nodded, then hesitated before asking her next question. “Do you miss her?”
“Does a dandelion miss its seeds when they drift away to conquer new fields?”
Tamaris tsked. “You’re dodging.”
He smiled faintly, then leaned back casually on his palms. “Truthfully, I didn’t have time to miss her. I was made Tranquil the same night that I left her. Then I had no capacity to miss anyone or anything. When Cassandra restored me, I was… I felt too much of everything. How can I know if I missed her when I was caught in a cycle of euphoria and misery and rage?” He glanced at Tamaris. “A better question might be whether I thought of her, and the answer is yes; I thought of her often.”
Tamaris nodded. “I bet she misses you.”
Felassan gave her a chiding smile, and she nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m serious. I bet she would love to see you.”
“She doesn’t need to see me,” Felassan said. “I taught her to stand proudly on her own bare little feet.”
“Who cares about needing to see you?” Tamaris retorted. “I’m sure she wants to see you. Besides, you can’t possibly think the only value you had to her was as her teacher.”
Felassan made a mock-sad face. “That almost feels like an insult to my value as a teacher.”
Tamaris turned to face him fully. “You’re not just a tool, Felassan,” she said fiercely. “You’re not just here to be useful to people. There’s no way Briala spent sixteen years learning from you and didn’t give a shit about you.” She lifted her chin belligerently. “I think we should find her.”
Felassan smiled. “Is this going to be your mission, then? To broker a reunion between me and Briala?”
“If that’s what it’ll take for you to see that you’re worth more than your value as a spy or a teacher or a source of fucking information, then yes,” she snapped.
His smile softened, and he gently chucked her chin. “Easy, avise. You’ll set your hair on fire if you burn any brighter than this.”
She glared at him, irritated by how dismissive he was being. “You’re important, okay? And not because you’re a good spy or a useful ancient elf or any of that shit.”
His eyebrows rose. “Only a good spy? You wound me.”
“Shut the fuck up, will you?” she snapped. “I don’t care about the spy stuff or the mage stuff or the fact that you know shit about the past. I… those things don’t matter. You’re…”
She faltered, feeling awkward about the depth of her feelings, but Felassan’s smile only grew wider. “Go on,” he said. “Don’t stop yourself before you get to the good bit.”
She curled her lip. “Are you looking for me to list all your best qualities?”
“If you’re so inclined, I wouldn’t say no,” he replied.
She scoffed. He was so annoying. “You want me to jack you off while I’m at it?” she said snidely.
He burst out laughing. “How can I say no to a seductive offer like that?”
The treasured sound of his laughter rang straight to her heart. She tutted and folded her arms, and Felassan chuckled and pulled her against his side. “Are you aware that your pouting just makes you more charming?” he said.
“You’re smart, all right?” she burst out. “You’re so smart and perceptive. You can see both sides of things — well, most of the time at least, and when you don’t, you own up when you’re wrong. You make me laugh and you’re so fucking patient and–”
Felassan laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “Tamaris, you can stop. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do, because you need to hear it,” she snapped. “Your value isn’t what you can do for people. It’s who you are. I don’t give a fuck if you never became a spy again or if you couldn’t cook or if you can’t totally control your magic. I’d still love you anyway.”
He grinned at her, and Tamaris’s heart somersaulted in her chest; his mouth was curled with mirth, but his beautiful violet eyes were glittering. 
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Affectionate and abrasive at the same time. That is one of the reasons that I love you.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to shut the fuck up. Instead, she cradled his cheek in her palm and kissed him. He pulled her closer as he returned her kiss, and by the time he broke their kiss to pant against her parted lips, she was practically sitting in his lap. 
He brushed his lips to hers. “Let’s go inside,” he murmured.
Read the rest on AO3 because I’m a monster and a horrible tease. 😂
18 notes · View notes
ghostsofmemories · 4 years
Text
Insect Poison Update #2
Tumblr media
So, life has been a little wild in recent weeks. I got a new laptop, finally, got a kitten (we named her Nemo), and have been getting ready to go back to school (yikes). This chapter has actually been done for about a week, now, but I’ve been dealing with a lot of self-esteem issues regarding my writing, so it was necessary to let this chapter relax before I passed over it a second time. The chapter is pretty short, just under 1700 words, but I plan to *eventually* go back over it and add some more description or something, because I think the scenes might be lacking in that. Jack is the giant takes place the night of the last chapter. Spoiler alert: we’ve got some gay in here.
If you have no clue what I’m talking about or would like a refresher, feel free to check out my chapter 1 update or the WIP introduction. And with that, let’s get on with it, shall we?
Chapter 2 starts with Jack. the father of the house, coming home from a few long days of his trucking job.
For the Bennett family, they functioned much better without Jack’s presence. He was was always tired, difficult to analyze, and preferred being on the road to being home with his family. There was a very clear, silent awareness that he had several affairs outside of his relationship with his wife, and it was something most everyone ignored in light of Emily’s dependency on narcotics and from time to time, drugs like acid and ecstasy. Those were more of a hobby than an addiction, though, similar to some of Jack’s more frequented mistresses upstate. It seemed that everyone knew their secrets with the exception of each other.
Upon arriving that night, he went straight for the bathroom. He spent a long while there, washing himself with a diligence that was unusual for him, and backed only by the possibility that it had been a long week and the heat relaxed his aching muscles. He was tall enough that his hair brushed up against the top of the shower head, tired enough that he only opened his eyes to grab a bar of soap.
Ramona had never been sure what to make of her father. In her head, there were two portraits of him: the man she knew, and the man she had imagined up while he was away. Usually,  he would arrive home to knock the kinder, softer portrait off the shelf and shock her back into reality. That is, until he went to work again and she began to rebuild him.
So I’ve basically accepted at this point that the plot of this book is... all just familial conflict, intrinsic motivation, and weird psychology. All the external conflict is with each other, and if I’m being honest, the book hardly has a plot at all. However, I have also accepted that I’m okay with that and actually a little excited about it!
When Ramona saw him, a bit of the portrait faded immediately. He was taller than she thought he was, had more muscle than she remembered, was a direct picture of the type of man young girls were told to avoid just in case. 
Still, that didn’t dictate his words. Or actions. He was capable of being a tall, strong man and still being a caring and kind father. If it was a stranger they’d seen in town, Lori would tell her not to judge a book by the cover and then, taking a second look, walk briskly across the street with her.
I just really like exploring familial relationships, so why not do more than one at a time? Anyway, here’s the fun part of the chapter (AKA the gay part). While writing this scene, I decided Lori should probably be aged from 14 up to 16 in order for this scene to really make sense. Not that 14 is too young to understand your sexuality, but I just personally don’t see Lori acting on these feelings before she’s 16.
A house holds many things, but its most important possessions are its secrets. The Bennetts thought they were full of secrets, but they made very little effort to hide them from anyone, with the exception of each other.
However, Lori wasn’t one to wear her secrets where they were visible, or to keep them where her anyone could reach. They were tucked away between the pages of the Nancy Garden novel hiding under her bed, living in the Polaroid that never left the guitar case of a girl Lori found herself loving more every day, despite her all her efforts not to.
I love Lori so much. I’ve written quite a few characters in my time, but she might be my favorite just because she’s so?? Pure?? I love all my evil bastards in this story but she’s such a nice refresher sometimes.
Mercy was sitting on the dew-covered bench, her sweater underneath her. Lori took a minute, before she was spotted, to admire her. Her hair blended itself into the darkness of the night, and the moon turned her brown cheeks a pale blue. She was wearing a deep black shirt with a jean vest, and the shorts she was planning to wear to bed.
After too deep of a breath, Mercy turned sideways. As if on cue, she got up and dried a spot on the bench for Lori, the pale spot where the statue used to sit.
“Hi,” Lori said, making her way over. Her eyes couldn’t decide whether to look at Mercy or avoid contact, so they darted wildly back and forth, unsure of a point of focus. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Come sit,” Mercy said, smiling and shaking her head. “How are you? I haven’t seen you all summer.”
“We talked on the phone yesterday.” She smiled while she said this, did her best not to give into the instinct to make fun of her girlfriend relentlessly.
“But I didn’t see you.”
“I’m good.”
“You’re beautiful,” Mercy said, taking Lori’s hand. They had been doing this long enough that it didn’t feel wrong when it was just the two of them, they’d read Annie on my Mind enough to know that this world was theirs, too.
Not sure if you’re aware yet, but I don’t think I’ll ever write a book without at least three queer people in it (I don’t want to reveal who the third queer character is just yet, he’s still in development (AKA i don’t know his name yet ahaha)).
Did I hear you ask for some flashback? No? Have some anyway.
As they sat there together, Lori couldn’t help but think about their younger childhood, all the things they didn’t understand until they started reading things they weren’t supposed to. Every moment in middle school that made an earthquake of the space between girl and friend.
Lori could remember, better than she could remember yesterday, getting in trouble in 6th grade for braiding Mercy’s hair from the desk behind her. Dark and thick and long, back then, but even before they knew what it meant to love a girl, they were taught it wasn’t allowed. It’s just hair. It’s just a braid in her hair, why does it matter? She had taken her hands away slowly and grabbed her pencil, left it unmoving against the paper. Three quarters of a braid hung unfinished down Mercy’s back, and Lori watched as she sealed the end with the hair tie around her wrist, their math teacher somehow keeping eyes locked on both of them at the same time.
I love my girls. Mercy’s full name is Mercy May Devera, because I thought Mercy May sounded cool.
So yeah. This book has no plot, but that’s cool because I’m just here to have a good time. If you enjoyed this update and want to be added to the tag list, you can send an ask, message, or reply to this post (Tumblr is finally telling me when I get replies!
Insect Poison tag list: @coffeeandcalligraphy​, @alicewestwater​, and @fliiik-art​
21 notes · View notes
ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years
Text
Pre-Trial: Introducing Dr. Rosa
I wrote half of this like forever ago and decided to go ahead and finish it, because I love Dr. Rosa and everyone should get to meet her, she’s my favorite random bit character who shows up in everything I do set in a modern universe.
Danny’ s first meeting with Dr. Rosa. 
Timeline: Shortly after returning to the United States, pre-trial.
Tagging @special-spicy-chicken, @spiffythespook, @bleeding-demon-teeth 
Dr. Rosa Martinez has been in the business of treating the survivors of long-term traumatic experiences for twenty-three years. In that time, the methodologies have somewhat changed, as has the understanding of trauma’s physical components interacting with its psychological ones, but she has never wavered in her commitment.
She has worked with the survivors of child abuse, rape, domestic violence, abduction cases involving non-custodial parents, one stranger abduction, a woman who had lost two husbands, firefighters both, within ten years of each other to the wildfires that race through California when the winds are hot and the air stays dry. She’s been working with an increasingly large subset of military veterans returning from war with wounds within them that struggle to heal. She has, as they say, seen (or heard) just about everything. 
Today, though, she is meeting someone whose experience differs from anyone she’s treated before.
Dr. Rosa Martinez, fifty-eight years old, feels something she hasn’t felt since her first year after changing her practice to focus on long-term trauma and PTSD; genuine nerves and concern that she may falter and fall short of a patient’s needs. She pats at her hair, twisted tightly at the nape of her neck to keep it out of the way, only a few of the speckled coarse white-and-black hairs escaping here and there. 
She rearranges the photos on her desk in the corner of her office, over by the window, shifting the framed pictures of her daughters with their own families back and forth, smiles at the only photo with a single person in it - a brown-haired woman smiling under the blaze of sun on their last visit back to see family down in the islands - pressing her finger to her lips and then, lightly, over the woman’s mouth.
Wish me luck, Liz.
She had rearranged the bookshelves this morning, had the cleaners come in twice this week instead of once to ensure everything is well-dusted and spotlessly clean, as she’s been informed the patient is hyper-aware of mess and might become distraught if he is not able to clean it.
She stands by the window, looking out through the blinds at the parking lot, waiting for him to arrive. The patient’s profile questionnaire and basic information rests on her desk, and she’s been reading through it over and over, preparing herself. 
There is a wealth of information hidden between the lines in those questionnaires, when you know what you’re looking for. Rosa Martinez has always had an eye for the unspoken, the unwritten, the details that her patients fear to speak and so tiptoe around instead.
The younger brother is the only emergency contact. The brother’s number is listed on everything, no number for the patient himself. The brother’s name is written in the space for the potential sharing of details if considered medically necessary in the event of an emergency. The brother, the brother, the brother. There’s something to grasp onto there, a detail she shouldn’t let slide. Every inch of the initial paperwork tells her that the brother is trusted implicitly, but no one else is. 
She’s seen him on the news, of course. Everyone in this part of the state has heard about the Daniel Michaelson case, his reappearance after four years of prolonged captivity and essentially total isolation. Everyone has seen his parents on the news expressing gratitude and delight that he has returned home.
But the parents are not on his paperwork, and the brother had been clear, on the phone, that they would not be attending any family sessions, only he and Daniel - and that it would be best not to talk about their parents unless Daniel brought them up himself.
It’s a situation that involves similarities to previous patients of hers, but every similarity was intensified, twisted, rearranged in new ways. The conversations about the parents suggested, to Dr. Rosa, a certain scapegoat/child abuse situation she would consider more in the future.
In the captivity there was abuse and sexual assault, but it was a vicious, ritualized cycle of violence that went far beyond abuse and into pure torture. Torture for torture’s sake, the brother told her, his own jaw shaking with the effort of keeping his voice calm in their initial consultation as to whether or not she would consider taking his brother on. Torture for fun, torture to twist his brother into something else, something less.
Neither of us is going to get through this without help, Ryan Michaelson had told her, all of twenty-four years old but with the gravity of a much older man in his voice and the way he held himself, without some help. I need you to help my brother, please, because-… because I just have no fucking clue what to do. Oh, I’m sorry for my language, it’s just been a bad few days, just… just really since he got home, he’s been-… I don’t-
It’s fine, She had said, handing him a tissue to wipe his eyes while both of them pretended the tears weren’t there. Where is your brother now?
At home with his… with… I don’t know what Nathaniel Vandrum is. But he’s home with him. I’ll bring him for his first appointment, but he’s so fragile… he picked your photo out of the others, so I think he’ll come willingly, but… please. We need help, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make someone believe they’re human, Dr. Martinez. I don’t know how to help him.
This will probably be a challenge, even for someone with her experience, but she can’t imagine turning it down. 
She twists the wedding band on one finger, letting her fingertip play over the square diamond at the top, trace the line of smaller circular diamonds that ran down each side of the band. Liz knows who the new patient is, of course, but she’ll also know not to ask - they’ve always had a “no work talk” rule, protecting Rosa’s patients even from her own family’s curiosity. 
She knows some of her colleagues speak about their patients in oblique terms with their own families, keeping their identities secret but discussing the trials of their day, but Rosa has never done that. Her patients come to her with terrors they trust with no one else, and she would never betray that, not even with Liz.
Only with other professionals, in very specific circumstances, and with all identifying details carefully stripped does she seek advice or counsel when needed. 
She recognizes the car when it pulls up - she’s seen it on the news, when the cameras catch Ryan Michaelson in his array of perfectly tailored suits in a series of richly deep colors when he gets out each day, waving them off, his jaw set as he gives the occasional statement as they prepare to take Abraham Denner to trial.
Today, Ryan steps out of the car in a purple sweater that probably cost more than Rosa’s health insurance premium and she’d swear even his jeans were tailored. Brown shoes, soft leather, perfectly worn. Ryan’s a handsome one, that’s for sure - all bright smiles and warm brown skin, wild black curls. He is smiling now as he turns and speaks into the car, before closing his own door, brushing some invisible wrinkles out of his sweater, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
First, to meet Daniel Michaelson.
She has seen photos of him, of course - but he hasn’t been in any photographs or interviews, so she was not quite prepared for the incredibly tall, thin man who unfolds himself out of the passenger side. He’s wearing an oversized, dark blue heavy sweater, heavier than the weather really calls for, with a high crew neck and cable-knit braids down the front, his sleeves pulled hard to cover the backs of his hands, head dipped down so his wavy red hair falls down over his face, wearing jeans that are clearly too big and, she suspects, only staying up because of a belt. 
Daniel makes it to the curb and then stops, shaking his head, saying something to Ryan and acting like he’ll get right back in the car. Ryan steps closer to him, hands out without quite touching him, gesturing towards the office. Daniel shakes his head again, and she can see they need a minute, and steps back to give it to them.
She watches them for just a second longer, than steps out of her office into the waiting room before they can make their way inside. 
“Krista,” She says in a honeyed voice, slightly high-pitched, with only a hint of the island accent she grew up with. “Send Daniel Michaelson into my office as soon as they come in, don’t make them wait. And be sure to pour Ryan Michaelson a cup of the good coffee we all pretend I don’t know you keep in the breakroom.”
“Of course, Dr. Martinez,” Krista says brightly, looking up from the book she’s studying behind the desk to give her a bright smile. “I serve everyone the same coffee, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmmhmmm. Oh, and don’t try to shake Daniel’s hand,” Dr. Martinez adds, and disappears back into her office.
She has everything ready, but rearranges her desk one more time anyway just to be on the safe side. She has a couple of photos, as well - a photo of Daniel Michaelson pre-abduction that his brother provided, a post-abduction photo she is keeping only for reference. I put this up on Facebook like the week before he was gone, Ryan had said, shrugging his shoulders, as he handed her the pre-abduction photo. I printed it out to bring. God, I don’t even know when the last time I actually used Facebook was… 
22 year old Daniel, one week before he vanished, is at what she assumes is the company Christmas party. It has that sort of look, people milling in the background in cocktail dresses and suits. He’s wearing a navy suit as perfectly tailored as Ryan’s always are on TV, his hair clipped shorter than it seems to be now. The shoulders are thinner in the past, she thinks, but his body overall is definitely skinnier now than then. He’s holding a glass of some brown liquor, one arm around 20-year-old Ryan’s shoulder, the two of them smiling for the camera.
Then the next photo, which Ryan tells her the police took and gave him a copy of. Danny is standing in front of a blank wall, looking at nothing, his eyes focused off to the side. He’s wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt, which could not have been easy for him, since they showed up at the police station in Alberta on December 11th. All the brightness and sparkle is gone, replaced by a dull terror and uncertainty that can’t quite break through the placid submission in his face. She taps one finger over his face, the slightly bloody red wounds that cut into him, and then she slides the older picture onto the top as the door to her office opens.
Ryan steps in first, giving her a friendly smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. She can see Daniel just behind him the taller man has his arms folded, nearly hugging himself, his eyes focused on the floor. “Dr. Martinez, we’re here, they told us to go ahead and come right in.”
“That’s lovely, Mr. Michaelson, thank you, but I’ll have to ask you to sit outside for the duration of the appointment.”
Ryan’s face falters, but only slightly, and Rosa watches with interest and curiosity as he shifts his stance to be even more directly between she and his brother. Only name listed on any of the emergency contacts, only person given permission for sharing of medical information, and he is standing in the hallway of my office trying to protect him from me. “Are you sure? He, um, he struggles being alone-”
“N-No,” Danny says from behind him, so softly Rosa almost can’t hear him. “No, I can do it, Ryan, it’s okay. C-Can, can you let me go in? Can I go in?”
“Hey, if you’re not totally sure, you don’t have to, I can sit right here with you.” Ryan half-turns to face his brother, and they are standing within inches of each other without ever touching. Rosa watches all of it, taking the details in, committing them to memory. 
“I can try to do it. I can be good,” Daniel says softly, and Rosa’s head tilts, unconsciously, as she watches Ryan Michaelson wince at the words. She’ll need to write that down, keep that in her memory, too.
It’s come in deeply handy, over the course of her career, that she has an excellent memory for the details like this.
“Okay. Let me know if you can’t do it, we can try again later, yeah?” Daniel nods, slowly, and Rosa watches Ryan take a deep breath, close his eyes, and then turn back to her. As he does, his shoulders go back, and his voice changes - the softness slides away, replaced by a kind of hard melodic sound, the voice of the company man he is being groomed into and not the caring, worried, frazzled younger brother. “Okay, here’s the thing - don’t touch him, don’t get too into his space, and, um-”
“My name is Red,” Daniel Michaelson says, and he’s still not looking up, he still has his eyes firmly on the floor. “My name is Red and I belong to Abraham Denner.”
“… and he still does that,” Ryan says tiredly, and steps back. “Call him Red, he gets really worked up if you call him anything else.”
“Because it’s not my name anymore,” Danny says, and there’s just the barest hint of annoyance there. Ryan rolls his eyes and Rosa fights back a smile; you can hold someone captive for four years, she thinks, but brothers are brothers, still, in the end.
Rosa doesn’t move from her desk as Daniel Michaelson steps into her office. He’s even taller in person than he seemed in the parking lot, all hunched over like he can make the height or his bright and eye-catching red hair disappear if he just curls over far enough. He glances at her, briefly, and she catches a hint of light blue eyes and the circle of red scarring across his face, the scars that wrap his neck like a collar he can’t take off.
She knows about the collar - Ryan warned her it comes up in conversation. She is prepared for this. She has a career uniquely situated to make her absolutely perfect for this. She has the experience that no one else in Northern California has, the experience and the dedication and the passion for helping people like Daniel Michaelson.
And yet the nerves that flutter within her stomach never quite subside.
When Daniel is all the way in and Ryan has closed the door to return to the waiting room, Rosa waits for a beat of silence, watching Daniel put his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like a small child awaiting punishment for an infraction rather than a grown man seeking therapy. “Do you prefer to be called Red?” She asks, finally, with no change to the warmth and welcome in her voice.
“My name is Red,” Daniel says, a little more firmly this time. “You, you have to call me that. That’s my name. I get, I get in trouble if I have the wrong thoughts, and that name is a wrong thought. Puppies don’t have wrong thoughts. My name is Red and I belong to Abraham Denner.” The words seem to have a calming effect on him, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders and the way he is holding himself. “Can I, may I have permission to sit down?” 
“Of course,” She says warmly, and then watches with surprise as Daniel Michaelson sits on the floor in front of the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Ah, Daniel-… my apologies, Red. Would you prefer to sit on the couch for our first session?”
“Not allowed,” Daniel says, and she watches him begin to rub, compulsively, at one of the red scars dug hard into his jaw on the left side, rubbing and rubbing with his thumb, his other arm sliding around his legs. His hands are scarred along the lines of his veins, heavy obvious markings. Ryan had warned her about those, too. 
He is curled into the smallest little ball she can imagine someone so tall turning himself into. 
“I’m not allowed. Only people get the couch, puppies stay on the floor. Not allowed. I, I have to be good, I want to be good. I want… I want to be good,” He repeats to himself, plaintively, and Rosa’s heart breaks, just a little.
Nothing shows on her face, but Rosa takes in the moment and wonders if she is perhaps in far, far over her head with this one.
Then she picks up a pad of paper and a pen and settles herself into a small armchair off to the side, nodding. “Is that one of your rules? Your brother told me that there are… guidelines, that you live by.”
Daniel Michaelson nods, his eyes down on the floor. She can see he’s rubbed the scar at his jaw until it’s open and a little bloody, and she takes the tissue box from the table next to her chair and slides it across the floor until it bumps into his shoes - worn-out Converse sneakers that can’t be comfortable in the rainy chill outside.
Probably they were shoes he wore before, and probably Ryan offered him new ones, and probably he refused.
Daniel looks up at her, confused, and she takes in the blue eyes again, surprisingly vibrant in the pale, freckled face. She doesn’t let her eyes drop to his scars, not at all. She holds his gaze and smiles, slightly. “You are bleeding, Red.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” He takes a tissue and presses it to his jaw, dropping his eyes back to the floor. Rosa settles back and makes a couple of introductory notes on her notepad, trying to decide where to begin. 
“Th-they want me to testify,” Daniel says, surprising her by being the first to speak. “But I, I don’t want to. He’ll look at me, he’ll look at me. I don’t want to. But they said I, I need to, they want me to. Ryan wants me to. I’m… he’s going to look at me. I don’t want to, but Ryan says, but I need to be good…”
“I understand,” Rosa says softly, nodding. “So is that what you’d like to focus on, as we get started seeing each other, Red? On being able to tape the testimony for the trial?”
There’s a silence, and then Daniel slowly nods. “I want to be able to do it,” He says softly. “For Ryan. Ryan wants me to do it. I want to, I want to do it, but I don’t want to do it. I feel both, at the same time. I want to do it but I shouldn’t, against the rules, against… against the rules. But I want to, Ryan does, Ryan wants me to. I want to but I don’t want to.”
“You’re feeling ambivalent about this - torn in two directions by your competing instincts. That’s perfectly understandable,” Rosa says softly, still writing, a constant stream of her impressions and thoughts and what Daniel is saying. “I think you’ve identified a very strong starting point for us, Red. I’m very happy to meet with you today, and your brother has scheduled you to see me twice a week while we get to know each other and once a week after that. Does that sound acceptable?”
Daniel frowns at her, confused, as though he can’t figure out why she’s asking. Then he slowly nods. “Can you make me able to do it?” He asks, from behind his knees. “Talk to the lawyers about what happened?”
Rosa takes a breath. “I can’t make you do anything. But if you want to, I think that your sessions with me may be able to help you work through what you need to have the skills to make that decision for yourself, and begin building a foundation for future decisions from there. Does that sound like a good plan to you?”
Daniel is silent, tissue still pressed to his face, then he slowly nods. “Oh, okay,” He says softly. “Whatever you want. I can be good.”
Rosa nods, slightly and gives him an encouraging smile. “Wonderful. And if you need to, we can call your brother in at any time. All right, Red. My name is Dr. Rosa Martinez, and I know you’re aware of that, but while you’re in this office, I want you to call me Rosa or Dr. Rosa, is that all right?”
He nods at her again, but a little more of his face comes up from behind his knees. “Y-Yes, I can do that, um, Dr. Rosa.”
“Perfect. That’s perfect, Red. Now let’s begin.”
116 notes · View notes
Note
Okay, if it's too much, don't answer that's fine. I'm not American and I've read so many different things about the political stuff that's going down over there, some saying Biden is the same as Trump, some say he's even better than Bernie. I got not clue how to sort that Joe Biden guy, sooo... Could you help us non Americans out a little? So far it's just looking like everyone is standing around a dumpster fire, shouting stuff that's not really comprehensible
Jesus Christ this was something to wake up to this morning. I’m gonna be honest, it’s not my job to educate you or anyone else on this matter, you’re all adults (supposedly, I’m doubtful about a lot of you) and Google exists. But I also understand that it can be intimidating to dive into the wide world of the internet and it feels easier to ask someone you trust or feel that you know, so I’ll do my best to be concise and explain.
Everyone is standing around a dumpster fire shouting stuff that’s not comprehensible because people, my darling, are idiots.
“No, Mads, people aren’t idiots!” A person is not an idiot. But people are. Put us in a group and we’ll happily self destruct in the most spectacular fashion possible.
Biden is nowhere near the same as Trump, people just live in an echo chamber and refuse to look at the facts. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how awful Trump is. It baffles me that people are saying Biden, who happily supported Barack Obama and played second fiddle to him for eight years, is the same as the man who’s putting children in cages.
Here is a breakdown of Biden’s policy plans should he be elected. Very different from Trump’s, as you can see. To quote this post here:
“It's important to be critical of political figures, especially during a primary election. Joe Biden has been in politics for a very long time, and his record is by no means spotless. There's lots to criticize, politically and personally. But having Biden in the big chair instead of Trump changes the entire game.
Look at it this way: if Joe Biden wins, a democratic Congress gets a clear path to passing real, lasting progressive laws. If Joe Biden wins, Ruth Bader Ginsburg gets to retire, and be replaced by a young firebrand who will make Neil Gorsuch and Brett Kavanaugh's lives a living hell for the next 40 years. If Joe Biden wins, all of the horrible executive orders Trump has enacted are gone, on day one: family seperation, abortion bans in VA hospitals, EPA funding gutted, global warming denial in NOAA, removal of LGBT+ protections, all GONE in January 2021. If Joe Biden wins, all the Trump shills in the government disappear: I'm talking about new people in the CPB, the Justice Department, the FTC, and everything other federal agency. With Biden instead of Trump, we're going to be fighting for Medicare for All vs. Obamacare, instead of Keeping Obamacare vs. Stripping Away Any Kind of Federal Insurance. We're going to be fighting for the Green New Deal vs. Having a Functional EPA, instead of Gutting The EPA or Having No EPA At All. The fight is way different, and we get to pull the conversation further left - where it belongs.
This election is just as much about getting rid of the Republican stench in the Oval Office as it is electing a particular person. So yeah, be critical of Joe Biden, but please don't lose sight of what President Joe Biden would actually look like versus President Trump.”
People seem to be forgetting that when you vote for president, you are, supposedly, not voting for One Supreme Leader Who Makes All The Decisions Ever. Putting Biden in the Oval Office is more about putting in a man who will pass the laws that a liberal, democratic Congress will put in front of him. A man who will actually listen to his advisors. It’s about putting in someone who won’t appoint a bunch of judges that will screw over everyone for the next, oh, three decades.
I don’t want Biden in office. I wanted Elizabeth Warren, for fuck’s sake. Whose policies were the same as Bernie’s, by the way, for all you bros out there who say you aren’t sexist. The last thing I want is another old white man, for the love of whatever you worship. But the idea that someone who supported and worked under someone like Obama is somehow the same as a Neo-fascist egomaniac is... ridiculous. It’s truly ridiculous. Not that Obama was perfect, far from it, but under his presidency we were making progress on things and my God, I wasn’t scared for the lives of just about everyone I know.
As for Biden versus Sanders, the argument that Biden is better stems from the fact that while Sanders has helped move the party left with his presidential campaigns and he makes pretty speeches, he hasn’t actually done anything in all his time serving as an elected public official. If you actually go and look at his track record, he hasn’t passed many laws or helped enact a whole lot of others. Everyone’s making a big deal about how he “saved millions of lives” with his big speech but actually, sorry kids, politics are not Hollywood and you don’t save the day by making a speech and miraculously everyone votes on something. Senator Michael Bennet of Colorado and Schumer actually talked to people, convinced them on it, and got the votes that secured the unemployment bill being passed, and that’s what saved lives, not someone yelling (no matter how passionate or eloquent their yelling is).
It’s great to yell about how the system is corrupt etc but you have to actually follow those words with actions, and Sanders, historically, is not good about compromising, working with others, reaching out to others, being on a team. And that’s exactly what you need to be able to do in politics to get anything done. There’s an episode of Leverage called “The Gimme a K Job,” where Sophie spends the entire time running back and forth between politicians getting them to compromise and quid pro quo for one another so she can get them to vote on a law. I recommend watching it. The situation is played for laughs, but it’s also brutally honest. You cannot get anything done in politics (or in a lot of things in life) if you aren’t willing to work together and bargain and give some to get some, and Sanders isn’t, and that’s not good.
Now, Sanders has done a lot in his presidential campaign to move the Dem party left and he’s really stirred up younger voters, and those are both good things. If you look at Biden’s policies in the post I linked, you’ll see a lot of them are more liberal than most people expected, and that’s probably because Biden and his team saw everyone supporting Sanders’ policies and went, “oh, okay, this is what the people want.” Which already shows that Biden is willing to listen to the people more than Trump and his party are.
And then there’s the more personal side of things. Sanders really left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth because some of his supporters were so extreme in their support of him, to the point of acting like he’s the only person who could possibly save us, when honestly that’s not how democracy (or socialism, frankly) works. The whole idea is that all of us, working together as a movement, are what makes change. The people all standing up together and demanding that lawmakers do this, that, and the other thing. Sanders extremists, known as “Bernie Bros,” acting like Sanders is their One True Savior has rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. In my experience, people don’t like being shouted at and told they’re idiots. And in my experience, one single person isn’t going to save you. And nobody’s perfect so furthermore acting like someone is perfect is only going to annoy everyone else around you and set you up for disappointment down the line.
There are a lot of people out there feeling attacked by Sanders supporters, and so frankly, they’re glad to see the back of him and throw support behind Biden, because they’re just sick of dealing with his extremist followers.
If you want to tear the system down completely then gold star to you, but the fact is otherwise you have to work within the system to change it. And I don’t see any of these people yelling on the internet actually doing the work to organize a revolution. It’s fun to yell about your opinions, it helps you feel better, it helps you feel powerful and heard. But the real work is done in volunteering, in protesting, in running for local offices, in doing research and then voting for your mayor, your governor, your senator, your state representative. Those people, as the COVID-19 epidemic is proving, actually often have more direct power to help or harm you than the President does.
People have more power than they think, but they’re just refusing to use it, and they’re refusing to think critically and to do research on the policies of candidates. I’ve seen people calling Biden a “serial rapist,” for crying out loud, which, whether he assaulted a woman or not, is not true. That’s like if I killed one person and suddenly everyone was calling me a mass murderer. People like to exaggerate, to bloviate, and to think in black and white. It’s disappointing, but true.
One final thought, for both you and actual Americans: look at how non-Americans are viewing the United States election. We are not the center of the universe (although we like to pretend we are) but we do have a huge impact on the global stage, and other countries are begging us to elect someone other than Trump. You want to claim we’re not the stereotype of the selfish, self-centered American? Than put your money where your mouth is and look at the non-Americans who are asking us to please, please, please elect someone else. Do it for them, if nothing else. The world is bigger than just us.
Biden isn’t perfect. One could argue one way or another on the Sanders v. Biden debate. It really depends on your personal opinion. But when it comes to Trump v. Biden, it really shouldn’t be rocket science. One of them has allowed racism, sexism, and xenophobia to thrive. He’s literally responsible for thousands of deaths (and counting) through his mishandling of the COVID-19 pandemic. He’s backed us out of the planet-saving environmental agreement that everyone else agreed to. He’s enabled corrupt, selfish politicians to have their way. He would appoint judges that will strike down everything from refugees to abortion rights. He’s destroyed our international relations, nearly started a war, and I actually don’t think he knows how to read.
And his name’s Trump.
That’s the difference.
18 notes · View notes
moariin · 5 years
Text
how to make your [fictional] world believable 
EDIT: this is an old post, most of my excerpts are based on my first and rough draft but the point still stand!
Quite an ironic title, but lately a lot of my asks on here and Wattpad were questions regarding worldbuilding and how I do them. I’m grateful for every single one of them! But I’m not 100 percent certified person to give out advice, I just thought it will be cool to expand on this ask. 
I also want to point out that this guide/advice can be also used in any genres (historical, contemporary, etc), fictional or real-world. Please note that this is based on my thoughts and ideas and so forth! And also this isn’t a full guide on how to get started on worldbuilding, but rather how to incorporate literacy devices and style to flesh out your world. 
Read more below the cut. 
So you made a world or in the process of making one, and now what? Well this post will help you polish it up. I will be using ‘These Hungry Dogs’ as an example.
Here are the 4 main breakdowns:
→  1. Sensory details
This is important to remember and should always be the first rule to keep in the back of your mind. 
A lot of times, people tend to get overboard with writing the government structure, types of religion, food, clothing, etc, that they forgot to put an emphasis on the five senses: sight, touch, sound, smell, and taste. Although having detailed structure or notes on what kind of government or cultural aspect is important, this have to come later. Keep it in the back of your mind.
An example of how to utilize the senses would be this: 
“ The Scheisygh was an unusual place. Upon reaching onto the spine of the thin, barred land stretched before him, [he] borrowed the same fragile morning air the terrain threw itself over the vast chasm. Even further, he saw the jagged teeth from the trenches embedded itself into the mountains. Dust and smoke spiraled into the air, a sign of life as the Myrgenvai camp rest just underneath the valley - hidden from prying eyes. ”
The bolded indicates the sensory details and both sight and scent are used.
By using these two sensory details, we have some idea on the geographical formation (mountainous region) from a character’s point of view and so on. We can also see how the character spots the camp, forming a distance in mind. I always try to put an effort in writing sensory details into the world. 
Here’s another example from my wip, The Water it Gives, using sound sensory:
Kenneth brought his briefcase along with him as he walked past the wheat fields, listening to the cicadas as the chirped eagerly among the grass. Everything is still and silent like the wind, not a single soul dared to cracked open its eyes and disturbed the solitude. 
→  2. Design (or ways to be sneaky)
Expanding on the five senses, a fictional world should always be active, giving life to the story. Things like having a short dialogue between the main character and vendor or overhearing a rumor while strolling down a market always lead the readers to be immersed in the world. 
There are two categories that goes with design are:                  1. Timing                  2. Environment 
Keep in mind that these two are the staple in every story as it creates a more grounded and realistic outlook on your fictional world. 
Timing is super important when crafting a story and worldbuild. 
One of the examples would be language, fictional or not, will always a subtle way to tell a place or region your character is currently in. Without the jarring details. 
“ They would always call him names. Names of which he had grown used to. Nuvahund, nuvahund, the children hollered after him as they prodded him with wide eyes and fits of laughter. ”
Now you may be thinking what does ‘nuvahund’ mean? Well for context, the excerpt above is where the fictional word makes it first appearance. Remember, not to force or reveal its meaning right away but instead let the readers keep it in the back of their mind. This is where repetition comes in. 
In the same chapter:
“ They whispered quietly of nuvahund. It was a common name, thrown into the streets and running mouths of children. ” 
Now in a different chapter and scene:
“ Drawing steps across the cavern, she slipped between cracks of the cavern, the one where [he] emerged from. She made a daring move as she glanced over her shoulders, hesitating a bit. But before [he] could react, Nadja was gone with an instant.
[He] threw his eyes to Isidor, throwing his voice out with anger, his throat grew tighter as he tried to choke his words out. "And you just let her go?" 
Nuvahund. How much he wanted to screamed bastard back. ”
This was done deliberately but also utilizing repetition and design, it creates a full circle: establishing a certain phase or word and revealing its meaning/definition. Context clues. Context clues.
So this brings to my second point, the environment. Environment can formed by the basic 5 W’s and H (who, where, when, what, why, and how). 
Bringing the previous example: 
“ The Scheisygh was an unusual place. Upon reaching onto the spine of the thin, barred land stretched before him, [he] borrowed the same fragile morning air the terrain threw itself over the vast chasm. Even further, he saw the jagged teeth from the trenches embedded itself into the mountains. Dust and smoke spiraled into the air, a sign of life as the Myrgenvai camp rest just underneath the valley - hidden from prying eyes. ”
This explores much of the five W’s and H, the bolded showing the what and where (The Scheisygh), who (the character’s pov), when (morning), how (the trenches embedding into the mountains).
Although not all of it was used, this scene explains much the environment and its formation the character is in. By using sensory details to reveal the geography/environment instead being straightforward can be more immersive in your storytelling.  
→  3. Personification 
Saving the interesting (creative) bits for last! 
This is one of my favorite literary device, I used it often in my writing. Most of the time I always personified the environment and geographical regions, basically all things inanimate. This is rather a more experimental type, find what you’re comfortable with, etc. Like the previous points I made, always remember subtly and design. As well as the importance when you want to draw personification into the story. 
This is a classic example on personification. 
“  As soon as the heart left the girl's open chest, the trees suddenly screamed, their melody becoming dissonant and coarse. With the loss of the girl's heart, they had lost one of their own. ”
Personification can be used alternatively, within fictional religion(s) or mythology for example. I tend to “shake” things up when writing mythology without giving too much away. So let’s say I want to write a particular scene where I could show a little world build. 
In this case, personification comes into play. Here we see that snow is personified as a shroud. 
“ As Emil stood watch as they work, the snow surrounded them, falling endlessly as if the white shroud Frau Holda had worn slid from her shoulders before retreating chaotic pits.”
ADDENDUM: Personification or any other literary devices should be only done when to serve the purpose. Always remember the design when formulating this (from the last point). The environment, and also the timing. For instance, say you want to write what’s the weather like during a scene. Try adding mythology or religion into the scene. 
As you can from the example of Frau Holda, a mythos figure, and her shroud as the snow falling. Things like that will help you avoid massive info-dumping and jarring exposition. Take things little by little, like digging a treasure. It’s hard work but in the end it will all pay off. Your readers are smart to find bits and pieces throughout the book.
REMEMBER! You’re telling a story not a documentary. 
→  4. Emotion/Tone
Like personification, part of the immersive storytelling is the emotion and tone. And I say, the most important. Remember what genre you’re writing or aiming for. Whether it’s fantasy or historical fiction or sci-fi, you should know which direction to take. 
Don’t be afraid to write flowery or purple! Though keep in mind the level and consistency, making sure that it’s the right timing. Personally, I usually write flowery descriptions whenever I stumble across writing a new place and connecting them into my worldbuild. Be smart and clever about it.
ADDENDUM: Think how each of your mythological figures represent, how do they act in folklore or stories? Are they violent? Virtuous? How do the people feel and act towards them? And how does your character see things, what is their perspective on the world and themselves?
By now, you can tell and pinpoint the direction I’m going for in ‘These Hungry Dogs’. As it’s a dark/low fantasy wip, I feel it would shaped better with a darker tone and setting, with some violent depictions (what I would call a red prose). 
Formulate the ideas and the plot, decide which tone works best for your wip and the genre. Although keep in mind, you can always explore out of the box, getting creative is part of the process. 
And that’s how the worldbuilding mafia works! I hope it wasn’t a jumbled mess to read through. Just shoot me an ask if you have any questions and I’ll be glad to help.
338 notes · View notes