#and like no one is fucking forcing you at gunpoint to use the labels on yourself

[newbiealliance]

the sooner yall stop giving a fuck and getting up in arms about how other queer people choose to label THEIR experience the happier you will be i promise. nothing comes of infighting with other queer people over labels you dont understand

[sharkcloset]

okay forgive me if this is dumb, it’s possible i just missed something, but i was sort of wondering earlier why snoop wasn’t at the pop out. given his impact on west coast hip hop and yk. the whole crip association. idk just dawned on me earlier like “wait where was snoop? 🤨” also would’ve been amazing after aubrey put that dumb ass ai version of his voice in one of his tracks

Snoop is on tour!! If you check the tour calendar you can see he had a show in Canada on Juneteenth. :/ but i have reason to believe he’d prolly be there despite publicly claiming neutrality lol tbh i feel like the man is being forced at gunpoint to not talk shit about Aubrey (there is a whole conspiracy theory that he’s a silent partner in Snoops label)

i have this whole fucking pepe silva ass deep dive about Snoop’s whole deal (re: the beef) in my notes and it took everything in me not to use this as an excuse to post it bc the simple answer is that he was occupied 😂

[samueldays]

Eighth commandment? Which denomination are you?

The short answer is that I attend a Lutheran church.

The slightly longer answer is that saying "Eighth" in that post was mostly out of habit. There's a Norwegian mnemonic: fem slem, seks sex, syv tyv, åtte lyv (roughly: "five aggressive, six sex, seven thief, eight lie") for the commandments forbidding murder, adultery, stealing and false witness.

That mnemonic is probably also from Lutherans, Norway has been Lutheran for centuries. I am open to being convinced otherwise, this is not an opinion I'm strongly invested in.

(A further digression: slem is a Norwegian word that doesn't have a precise translation to a single English word. I give its meaning thus: if you see two children, one of them crying and the other not, you might ask the crying one: "Has he/she been slem to you?" Aggressive, bullying, violent, injurious.)

---

The really long discourse for people who might be wondering what's going on with counting/numbering of the Ten Commandments: disagreement on how to number them and how to group the statements is a very old argument about very petty labeling. The Ten Commandments as given in Exodus 20 end with these two verses:

16 “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 17 “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor’s.”

Which number to put on the commandment in 20:16 depends partly on how many commandments you think there are in verse 17, which was originally written before punctuation got invented so it's a little hard to tell. The various opinions are something like this:

Reformed Christians: This is one verse. That makes it one commandment. Simple as.

Catholic Christians: This is two commandments. One against greed for other people's houses and livestock, and one against lust for other people's wife and concubines.

Lutheran Christians: This is two commandments. One against force or fraud as in taking someone's house, and one against seduction or alienation as in taking someone's family or pets.

Denomination I Just Imagined But It Probably Exists Somewhere In America, Land of the Free: This is three commandments. One about the house, one about the people, one about the animals.

Jews: Verses are fake but it's one commandment.

Ancient Textual Evidence: it was written with a linebreak after 'wife', which might be a separation of two commandments?? but it's not clear what the groups are?? or it might just be scribal convenience??

---

Hypothetical interlocutor: Wait, "alienation"?

It's not so long ago that there used to be a bunch of legally recognized crimes such as alienation of affection. In non-legal terms you might call it "driving people to break up". Seduction, whisper campaigns, gaslighting, the urban legend of the FREE CANDY van luring away people's kids, more realistically luring away other people's dogs with treats and sometimes exploiting 'it followed me home' laws to claim ownership of the dog until the legislature fixed that.

The point being that this was considered a way of stealing people's stuff, and meaningfully distinct from the normal kind of "grab at gunpoint" or "sneak in and grab at night" forms of stealing which are ineffective at e.g. stealing someone's dog because the dog will fuck off the moment it has a chance.

Very messy subject, long story for another day.

[shrikebrother]

ive probably said this before but i think ppl especially on tumblr have this tendency in identity politics to view everything a person does as having to be like, a symbolic political gesture against The System & criticizes ppl who use microlabels or whatever bc they think that their identities arent counter-cultural enough . but like most of the time ppl's identities arent trying to be like, big statements, theyre just labels that individual person relates to & wants to use . it doesnt have to be anything bigger than that . & besides i really doubt that some random queer person who uses microlabels is the one whos enforcing heteropatriarchal social norms. like i wouldnt say that theyre the ones you should be focusing on about that

& also like. theres this language the ppl who have this mindset use like they think ppl with microlabels are trying to get everyone else to do the same thing when that just isnt true ? like of course there are gonna be some assholes online but for the most part it just doesnt happen . no one is forcing you at gunpoint to call yourself demisexual just because thats a label they use . i feel like the internet would be a much better place if ppl stopped putting so much symbolic value onto things that individual ppl do . maybe theyre not trying to start a social movement maybe theyre just being themselves .

tldr its ok to not label yourself or only prefer to use a few labels or if you like to use many labels . youre not a bad person or like, a fucking class traitor for doing that

[passivenovember]

@coffeeandchemicals (aka the sweetest angel bb) asked:  For the drabbles, 55 or 60 or 72 with harringrove! Please and thank you!! 💙

55. “Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Paper Angels.

The things is. Steve’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to falling in love. Can smell that shit from a mile away, the reeking infatuation that turns his already liquified brain into something like sludge. Mashed potatoes with too much milk, or something. 

And it used to be that Robin would point it out in that usual way of hers, before Steve became a pro at monitoring his own downfall. Pick your tongue up off the floor, dingus. 

And it used to be that Steve would take it like. A basketball to the back of the head, the realization that he was bleeding out in an open field for fucking whoever. Nancy Wheeler or Mark Lewinski or Brittani Clark. Robin could always sense it when Steve’s feelings started leaking out of his ears, but.

Billy Hargrove was something else entirely.

Neither of them saw it coming. The pushes and snarky comments that morphed into butterflies and concealed smiles under the light of the full moon, it was like.

Crossing a deserted road only to be fuckin’. T-boned by a cyclist who doesn’t have their lights on, or something. 

One day they were enemies. Avoiding each other like the plague--Billy actually gagged when Steve passed by him at parties. Called him Steve “Sloppy Seconds” Harrington, and. Yeah. The feeling was fuckin’ mutual, alright?

Because Hargrove always wore too much cologne and Steve had the sneaking suspicion, after that night at the Byers’ when contact sports took on a whole new meaning with the sound of ceramic against his skull, that Billy perfumed his dick.

Sometimes guys did that, he’d heard. And if Steve had to bet, like, cold hard cash on it, Billy Hargrove was definitely one of those guys. And not that Steve really. Thought about it much or anything but kissing Billy was probably like licking the inside of an ash tray. 

Just the thought of made him gag.

So, yeah. The feeling was mutual. The queasiness in Steve’s tummy was, like, disgust or something. Every time he saw that curly top above a sea of drunk high schoolers, he would start sweating a shit.

Bullets. Like he was going to face the electric chair, and. Steve had never thought for even a second that that feeling was mutual. 

That Billy would be anxious to see him. Would escape the moment he heard Steve rounding the corner into whatever lame party was on the ducat this week, so. When they eventually became friends. Best Friends, close as a couple of girls, it felt like Steve had solved the most difficult puzzle in the universe. 

They were shitfaced. Drunk enough to forget ceramic plates and nervous feelings, and Billy had tried to high-five him. Steve, on his way out for a smoke. Passed by with a little, well if it isn’t the leftover turkey, and. It would’ve been cool, but. They missed. 

By a lot. Two guys who never sat on the bench during a game, they. Fuckin’ couldn’t land a high five from less than a foot away and that was it. Billy’s walls crumbled around them like so much graham cracker dust, and. 

His eyes were pretty. Had they always been that pretty? Steve couldn’t remember but then Billy was leaning in, cheeks pink from laughter and whispering, You ain’t half bad, Harrington, into the shell of Steve’s ear. 

Like it was a secret only the two of them could remedy, and. Billy pulled away. Winked, waggled his stupid, ridiculous tongue, and. When he passed by he smelled like summer rain. Black pepper and grapefruit.

Steve closed his eyes and felt the love leaking from his ears.

Shit.

--

After that it was like surviving a forest fire. Billy would show up at Steve’s just before midnight with a six pack of Budweiser and a half smoked joint. On bad day’s he acted like coming to Steve’s house was a chore, like. Steve was holding him at gunpoint, preaching about commitments like Steve had even asked for his company in the first place, and.

On those nights it almost wasn’t worth it. The feeling of being close to Billy, it was. Hard to talk to him. 

And it wasn’t like falling slowly. Through syrup or stacks of blankets, like his usual style, it was like. 

Getting in the car and driving way, into the night, with no map and no funds and no clue of what the end would look like. Steve fell hard and fast and slammed into the ground until he was one with the molten earth, on the good nights, too. When Billy grinned and cracked jokes and fuckin’. Winked. 

So. The good outweighed the bad. For months, for millennia, it seemed. Until Steve couldn’t remember a time when midnight didn’t signal the arrival of love. And he would take it, anything, everything, for just a peak at the person he knew was hidden under all that hairspray and chiseled skin, so.

When Billy showed up one night with his car packed full of shit, Steve grabbed his coat without a word.

What are you doin’, Harrington.

I’m coming with you.

No you aren’t, that’s not. Look. I just came to say goodbye, so.

Not that easy to get rid of. 

Billy tried to fight him, tried to. Hold him off, or something. Like any force in the fucking universe would be strong enough to keep them apart. 

Steve made a face.

And Billy knew what that face meant so he cleaned out the passenger side of the Camaro. Stupid shit like lamps and folded quilts, shuffling it all to the back seat where there was clearly enough space. 

It was almost like. He had known what Steve would do. 

It was like he’d been preparing to say no, baby. I don’t have enough room, see? I’m saddled with more than I can take already, and I just--

Almost like he was hoping Steve would insist, anyway, and.

“Go pack a bag, pretty boy.”

Steve would follow him anywhere.

--

Billy came alive in California. The bad nights stopped existing out in the open air, they hid instead. Under the blanket of nightfall, under the sling of Steve’s arm. They paid extra for a two bedroom apartment on the beach, because.

I’m not expecting you to. Sleep in my bed, Steve.

Right. They were still pretending. 

The second bedroom sat collecting dust. Steve emptied his trash bag of essentials into the dresser in Billy’s room, because. The love was constantly ruining his shirts, these days. 

Steve bled blue and gold. Blatantly. Because he never felt it before, this. Feeling. Like the sand is being washed from his skin. Like he’s curling up in bed after a long day of hard work.

Billy makes him feel that way, so.

Steve can’t hide it. And he doesn’t try to. Not when they watch cartoons together on the couch, not when Billy sucks a hole into his neck under their blanket in their bed and asks, we goin’ steady? Like it’s even a fucking question, or something, but.

Steve realizes they went backwards. Won the game before actually learning the rules. 

Do you wanna go on a date with me? He asks one morning. It’s raining, so Billy isn’t surfing and Steve isn’t sketching out on the porch, and. 

It seems as good a time as any.

Billy has milk running down his chin when he looks up, eyes so blue and wide like he never expected it to fucking happen. Isn’t this a date?

What?

Right now, Billy says through a mouthful of Lucky Charms. We’re eating. Alone. Making eyes at each other over our meal--

Steve snorts. This isn’t a date.

And Billy’s face, fucking. Falls. He rinses his plate in the sink and kinda, doesn’t turn back around. Steve doesn’t know how he fucked it up already. 

Bills?

What’s a date look like then? And that. Makes Steve laugh. 

You’ve been on, like. So many dates, baby. 

Not with you. Billy says flatly. When he turns around again his cheeks are pink. Not from laughter, but. From something else. I never went on any dates with you, so. How would I identify one in a crowd.

And Steve knows. Instantly, knows he’s not going to get out of this one. 

Perfect first date shit, alright, I can. I can do that.  He leans back in the hideous avocado green chair Billy picked out and. Sucks on his bottom lip. We have the day free. Because, um. It’s the off season. Right after labor day and, uh. The shop’s getting ready to shift into winter. 

Billy grins. So in your perfect scenario we’re broke?

Listen, asshole wouldja just--

Alright, baby. Billy sits in the chair across from him and looks, fucking. So pretty in Avocado Green. I’m listening. 

So Steve tells him. Their perfect date begins and ends with ease, it’s as simple as breathing. The way it’s always been for them. Natural. Steve packs a basket with a goddamn. Charcuterie board and like, fresh fruit and shit. The sun sets and Steve gets down on one knee and--

Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Billy doesn’t look even a little bit like laughing, not. Not when his nose goes all bunchy. Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Steve isn’t really in the mood for jokes. 

He covers his face with his hands, because. They went backwards. Never even put labels on it, or second guessed anything because Steve won the lottery. That night when the high fives went up in smoke, he. 

Got everything he ever wanted.

Billy tugs at his wrists. Yanks and soothes and rearranges Steve’s skin until they’re chest to chest against avocado green. His eyes are teary. Fuck.

I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby. Steve says. ‘S a bad idea anyhow, too much pressure. You mean a lot and I fuckin’. Made you cry. Tears were never a part of the deal.

Billy lets Steve wipe his cheeks and then he’s smiling. 

Not grinning or smirking or teasing, but. Happy. We could make this a date.

Steve shrugs. Yeah, I guess we could.

Pack some sandwiches, sit on the patio. Billy winks. Just like all those nights when neither boy could give their emotions a name. Take away some of the pressure. 

I kinda dig the pressure, though.

Were you really gonna get down on one knee? Billy whispers. At the end of our first date? You know the statistics on divorce are--

Against his will, Steve’s chucking. 

And on the first date? Billy tuts, cheeks pink again. You know I don’t put out for any ol’ pair of brown eyes, Harrington. I wait until at least the fourth date.

It’s been five years. 

So marry me. Billy says. On Tuesday or something, we can. Go to the beach or whatever. Elope. 

And. 

Just like that night. With the Camaro stuffed to the brim, and Billy gripping his fingers like a lifeline in a storm, Steve has no choice. He never did, because. Yeah.

He kisses Billy, each cheek, both eyelids, before carrying him to their bedroom and wonders. If they’ll ever start at the beginning.

[kiara-carrera]

wait i want to hear everything u are willing to share ab max SGJDVD

okay!!! i love my new baby so i'm excited haha! this is very lengthy and just full of ramblings lmao but thank you so much for asking!!!!

so i wrote about some of her basic background-y stuff here if you wanna check that out!

but basically she's a john b x oc ship that's like ... childhood best friends to friends with benefits to ... very confusing situation

it's definitely one of those situations where they probably shouldn't have gone as far as they did but uh ... no braincells

john b has lowkey liked her for a while, but didn’t realize messing around prob wouldn’t help

inspirations for her character include alaska young, kind of jennifer check from jennifer's body (not like the demon person eating bit, but just like ... quintessential teen movie hot girl — like whatever the fuck megan fox has going on max has it), the sour album, and the songs alrighty aphrodite (peach pit) and clementine (halsey)

she's a pogue born and raised

i said this in the linked post but i reiterate SHE IS THE HOT GIRL OF THE CUT!!!!!!

spends most of her spare money on groceries for the chateau where she spends 90% of her time, as well as trips to the used book store (cue bonding moments with pope)

jj was the first to find out john b and max were macking

jj is also like their child tbfh ... will he become a child of divorce is the question

freshman year, john b was a big part in holding her together after her mom passed away

so in turn max played a very big part in holding john b together after big john went missing

why do half of my ocs not have parents this is an epidemic of fictional proportions i need to stop doing this smh

max and john b started their whole thing somewhere between his dad going missing and kiara coming back from her kook year thing

kiara is very anti max and john b

not bc she wants john b or wants max (bc pan!kie agenda is strong in this household)

but like,,,she thinks the situation is gonna blow up in their face

she's right but she doesn't need to be so loud about it

kie and max are besties at heart, but they fight a lot

in another life, max and sarah honestly would get together

like this story was originally meant to be a john b x max x sarah poly

but it just didn't feel as genuine and felt forced to me so i booted sarah but they have chemistry 100%

will 100% drink any kind of alcohol you give her, but adores the more "girly" drinks like wine coolers and shit

...john b has 100% gotten wine coolers special just for her and endured being called whipped by jj but it was worth it to see the grin on her face

has a bright pink bong that jj constantly drags her over but then he's always looking to smoke with her sooooooooo

max and jj are very similar in the reckless nothing to lose partier aspect

max and jj chaotic bi besties??? maybe so

it's very obvious that max and john b are ... something, but max will swear up and down that it's just casual

john b is like that's hurtful but alright

john b has pretty much just begun mentally treating her like his gf and like it's not that she treats him horribly in comparison bc some things she does scream relationship behavior

but like,,,labeling and the true commitment is what has her like abort abort abort

this one is subject to change but her brother's quite a bit older than her and honestly i might just make him be somewhat friends with barry just for shits and giggles

like the peak comedy of max just getting ready to leave her house and barry's just at the kitchen table with one of her books like "this thing any good?"

she's like i'm not a fucking lending library

idk i just like the concept of them interacting like that pre-ep7 when he holds the pogues at gunpoint lmao

speaking of her brother ... bastard child we hate him

he took custody of max after their mom passed and he's regretted it ever since even though he doesn't even really have to do shit like she pretty much supports herself he's just a fucking asshat

both of them speak mandarin chinese (they'd speak it around the house before their father died when max was a kid) and there's just many situations in my head where they're arguing in full blown chinese and john b is just standing there like 🧍🏻‍♂️

also the fights are about him so ... peak humor

max's book are all over the chateau and john b lets her talk about them as long as she wants because she gets so excited and into it and he's a simp that's it

those printed shirts he wears??? she will in fact steal half of them she is a menace

[spacesnaill]

Holds you at gunpoint. Every question for Jupiter. (you can skip some if you want-)

i love you, you motherfucker 🔫

1. what is your character's relationship to the traveler?

jupiter is aether’s and lumine’s big sibling, so they all get along very well. i like to think aether and lumine are way more brash and “act before you think” kind of people, while jupiter usually is the one who takes lead (both because of the big sib energy and because they are way more analytical). that being said, jupiter is aware that the twins are very much capable of surviving on their own and fighting if there is any need for that, which is why even after losing touch with them in tevyat they know that the twins will manage somehow, they just need to find them

2. is your character proud of, ashamed of, or indifferent to their feelings towards members of a certain gender?

i’d like to think that the species/society the trio comes from doesnt give a fuck about gender and sexuality so jupiter would never feel ashamed or upset about their feelings towards specific genders. i dont think they would rlly label themself but they are definitely not straight. as to having feelings towards others: they are usually straight forward in their approach

3. what is your character's relationship with themselves?

jupiter knows their purpose and objective very well, but that often clouds their true desires. i like to think that they havent really been thinking for themself up until they were stranded in tevyat and had to rely on themself. they came to realize their own opinions and perspectives that they carry with themself everywhere they go. tho, their views are rather flexible, because they are very much willing to learn if an oppoturnity arises. that being said, they dont quite know themself well just yet, they are still learning after all

4. what is their favorite region? why?

with how much of the game is available rn, liyue is definitely their favorite so far. it’s culture is incredibly rich and full of fascinating stories and legends. i personally am looking forward to the release of sumeru, but what will come out of it is yet to be seen

5. what is their relationship with Zhongli? do they have one at all?

oh they very much do. while his charm and politeness are qualities that they very much enjoy, what originally drew them closer to him was his vast knowledge over liyue’s traditions and customs. at first during their stay at liyue harbor they would wait to catch him during his afternoon and evening strolls around the city to ask him things and carefully listen to everything he has to say. id like to think that zhongli appreciated having such an active listener and even a conversation partner at some point. eventually their little friendship grew into fondness for each other and they would seek each other’s company, until jupiter straight up confessed. id like to think their relationship is fairly innocent and very much founded on mutual respect and admiration. they both value honesty and communicate with each other rather well. and even though, zhongli hesitated before agreeing to travel with them, leaving liyue behind, he doesnt regret doing it

6. who is their love interest? If they do not have one, who is their closest friend?

while zhongli is both their love interest and their dear friend, venti is their first close friend. during the events of chapter I they both bonded. venti seemed like someone containing a vast amount of knowledge that jupiter was eager to discover. it quickly became apparent to them that the bard doesnt particularly like to talk about the past in detail, but venti still would surprise them with how much he knew about art and the culture surrounding it. they are both pretty light spirited so they always enjoyed each other’s company and their bond only grew stronger during their travels.

7. what do they think of Mona?

they are curious about and intrigued by her methods. they can also very much relate to her pursuit of lost/forgotten knowledge. they like to ask her about astrology and theorize with her, asking her to teach them little things for an exchange of a hot, homemade meal

8. what do they think of The Knights of Favonius?

their opinion on the knights is mixed. they can very much see that most of the people working for them are underqualified and not cut for the job or only doing it for the renown. while the idea of a city without a ruler is appealing, in practice the knights are the ones ruling over it and jupiter was left feeling sceptical when thinking about their methods and the possible future. they dont have anything against the individual people in the organization, but they do think their approach is highly flawed

9. wine is Mondstadt's most popular drink. do they drink wine?

while they do indulge in alcohol from time to time, they dont seem to be able to get drunk or even tipsy. they’ve concluded that since their body is built differently than a person of this world’s, its very probable that they dont react to certain foods and products the same way. alcohol is like any kind of a drink for them and many people are terrified when they see them consume it in large quantities

10. what do they think of Kaeya?

they like his playful nature and think he is a highly intelligent person, who doesnt show anyone what he is truly capable of. his methods, while very  cunning, seem rather brash, which somehow reminds them of their siblings. while they are very much curious about his motives and history, they dare not to pray if it isnt welcomed. during their stay in mondstadt they would often times catch kaeya lurking in the tavern and spending time with the local gangs and bandits in order to extort information from them while drunk. in the rarer occasions where he would be alone, they would sometimes keep him company, filling the night with talks about nothing in particular

11. if they were forced to make the choice between killing their love interest/friend or killing themselves, what would they choose? why?

that very much depends on when that would happen. pre-separation with their siblings, they would very much operate on the hard logic of “whoever has more information/more important information should survive”. however after spending time in tevyat and meeting its people, jupiter learns to greatly value life and their inicial stance would change to a more selfless one. the more they get to know about the world the more they are willing to put their life on the line to preserve life in it, especially if its the life of someone they hold dear

12. what do they think of Childe? 16. is there a canon character your character hates? why?

at first they were open to the idea of being childe’s friend, however with time they started noticing that something was wrong with his overt friendliness. when he revealed his true intentions, jupiter was not surprised, but learning what he had chose to do made them absolutely despise him. staying in liyue has taught them a lot and made them care about the people living in this world. however childe seemed to have no disregard to them. they will not hesitate to fight him if their paths do cross again

13. do they carry a lot of Mora?

having a large amount of mora is basically a requirement when travelling with zhongli and venti. jupiter does take on a lot of jobs and comissions, though mora is mostly a secondary issue for them. they do find themself owning quite a lot of it at times until they overspend with their companions and are forced to rely on their survival skills in order to save up enough to get a roof over their heads

14. does your character side with Kaeya, Diluc or neither?

when it comes to the family feud: neither. jupiter doesnt like to pry into family matters and they understand both kaeya and diluc never talking about their issues with one another. while they cant imagine siblings behaving like that, due to their own experience, they dont feel like its their place to judge.

when it comes to the knights of the favonius: jupiter slightly leans more on diluc’s side, recognizing the many weaknesses of the organization as it is, however they both come from different places when critiquing it.

15. what do they think of Venti?

venti has become their best friend and they value him deeply. they worry about him sometimes, aware of the origin of his appearance and the history behind it. they like how venti seems to perceive life in a very poetic way and are fascinated by it. they get along very well and venti often fill their time during their travels by his songs, both known and not yet named

17. how did they acquire their vision?

they seem to be blessed with the same ability as their siblings when it comes to being granted powers without aquiring a vision themself

18. what is your character's weakness?

their curiosity and hunger for knowledge

19. what is their strength?

they utilize the knowledge they have gathered into things they can use to their advantage be it in battle or daily life

20. what is your character's theme song?

pure gold by half·alive

21. what weather do they love the most? why?

they love when its sunny. jupiter very much enjoys the feeling of sunlight on their skin

22. what do they think of Paimon?

jupiter would be Ecstatic to get to meet paimon. her vast knowledge in all matters would make her a valuable companion. in the current story they have no idea who she is as of now though

23. what do they think of the Fatui?

while they do not approve of the fatui’s methods, they cant help but think that something much deeper must be going on. jupiter wants to believe that the tsaritsa cant be simply evil and that perhaps she has some other, hidden motivation for her actions. having spent time with and got to know the fatui in liyue, they also know that not all of them are cartoonish bad guys

24. what do they think of the archons?

overall the concept of archons seems very new and intriguing to them. they do try to get as much information about their godhood out of venti and zhongli. they wonder whether this world really needs the archons as much as it claims to

25. what is the worst thing that could happen to your oc?

either losing their siblings or losing their memory (its a great fear of theirs)

26. what does your oc want the most?

their long term dream is to write down all the knowledge they’ve gathered so far and make it accessible and understandable to anyone willing to read it

[xofaddiction]

                           𝕠𝕙 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗                                𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕖                             𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕙 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕖 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕣𝕪                      𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕪 𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕕                                       𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕤𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕒𝕟

full name:  gabriel vincent craine

nicknames:  gabe

age:  34

date of birth:  sept. 7

zodiac: virgo

gender:  male

pronouns: he/him

sexuality:  heterosexual

physical

hair color: blond

eye color: blue

height: 6′2″

weight: 194 lbs

personality

morality:  lawful neutral

positive traits: efficient, practical, diligent, focused, intelligent, thorough, shy.

negative traits: hypercritical, demanding, hard to please, self-conscious, reclusive.

job: lawyer

skills: organized, good at time management, unshakable, can speak a few languages (english, spanish, french, and japanese), writing, small guitar skills.

family

parents: vincent and gloria craine.

siblings: isaiah craine ( location unknown deceased )

backstory and details - ＴＲＩＧＧＥＲ     ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧ :                                      mentions of alcoholism, miscarriage/abortion, gun violence, divorce.                                              feelsy shitTM

                                               ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴     ✴   ✴   ✴    

home life was good. born to vincent and gloria craine one sunny labor day weekend, gabriel was their miracle baby. he was a blond haired, blue eyed, chubby cheeked toddler who captured their hearts and affections beyond what they could ever imagine. even when their youngest was born, isaiah could and would never live up to his brother’s name.

his family was very catholic, and even in that he was diligent. mass on sundays, easter and christmas, confirmed and baptized, he did what was expected of him as a man of his faith. he was thankful academics kept him too busy to become an altar boy, indulging so deeply he only passively believed in felt like sacrilege beyond what he thought himself capable of.

he was a happy child that grew into a golden boy. valedictorian of his high school, gabe was heavily involved in choir, track, debate team, student council, and won prom king in his junior and senior years without much effort. it wasn’t because he considered himself popular, but because he was personable. he wasn’t snooty or above hanging out with any and every faction of people around school. he found bits of himself in everyone and was always willing to help or tutor in any way he could.

when it came time for college, it came as no surprise that he was fit for ivy league. his choice was dartmouth, somewhere with a liberal atmosphere where he could study without the competitive, stuck up harvard-yale students hounding him to do more and be better. he double majored in english and history and chose to minor in computer science. his degrees were achieved and he finished top of his class.

he attended law school at oxford, electing to study abroad in the uk and take in more than what chicago and new hampshire could. he knew what he learned in litigation for foreign law wouldn’t be useful in america, but it was important for him to understand the nuances of european law as someone interested in international law.

while at oxford, he met danielle fournier, a law student in his class that shared interests with him; from music to art to history and philosophy, she bewitched him body and soul and he fell in love harder than he thought possible. for the moment, he thought she was the endgame for him.

when it came time for him to move back to america, danielle came with him. he enrolled at yale law and worked a full-time job as an assistant in a law firm, doing what he could to support himself and the girl he loved. he did everything right; he went to school, got a dream job, moved off to new york and worked himself to success, proposed to the girl and married her. everything was was it should have been.

he was a shining beacon of hope and an example to everyone in his family, most of all his younger brother. he knew that isaiah had an odd sort of idolization over him. he was the big brother, the one who encouraged and stood as a confidant and first friend for isaiah.

the family seemed complete; two perfectly happy parents, a son with a wife and a bright future, another dating a young, successful woman. they seemed the picture of perfection, but there was some nagging presence that spoke otherwise. his parents were more friends than husband and wife- they stayed together for appearance sake. gabriel was a ceaseless workhorse, and though he did his best to be the good man who came home by 7pm, when he did come home, he found his wife drunk and drowsy, always reeking of expensive wine and stake perfume. and as for his brother and his girlfriend; there was something that felt off, whether it was in their relationship or his own, he did not know. however, something in the back of gabriel’s mind that knew his and katerina vasile’s stories would not end as they had began; acquaintances that only spoke at family gatherings.

he never believed in soul mates or twin flames, despite believing in the presence of a soul. he never understood that even upon a single meeting someone could mean so much to another person right up until the moment it happened. he barely knew katerina, and yet he saw something in her he knew he wouldn’t ever be able to forget. she would stay in his mind forever, and though he loved danielle with everything he had in him, he knew that even in the darkness when he lay drifting, it was her eyes he’d remember.

he would never act on it; he was married and happy to be, and whether the relationship between himself remain stale and passive or grow into platonic companionship, he was glad for either, though he would prefer the latter. if it meant being to keep those eyes in his life, it was worth it. he liked katerina, cared for her and paid attention to what she said, far more than his brother seemed to, though his interaction was not inappropriate.

it wasn’t often he had to be strict or commanding over the younger sibling that so adored him, but a family christmas party changed that. isiaiah was showing off; acting like a prick to katerina for the sake of bolstering himself in his brother’s eyes. gabriel hated it. excusing himself and his brother with a charming smile, gabriel gripped isiaiah by the flesh on the underside of his arm and dragging him to a quiet section of the house, gabriel’s voice dropped low and dripped venom that had never before passed his lips in the presence of family: “if i ever fucking see you treat that girl like that ever again, i’ll drag you outside and break your face against the goddamn curb, got that?” he threw his brother’s arm and stormed back in before another word could be said, plastering on a smile as he went to keep danielle from pouring another drink.

danielle was always a big drinker, but her usage escalated well within their marriage. she got pregnant and while gabriel thought she was happy to be, she was not. behind his back she was taking doses of a prescription drug that halts progression of pregnancy. she lost the baby and gabe was devastated. he’d never really thought about being a father, but the when presented the prospect of it, excited him. he thought he could be a good father, not only because he was stable and happy, but because he loved the baby from the moment he got the news.

though hurt beyond measure, he was hopeful; they managed once, they could manage again when the time was right? if there was a god that saw his diligence, surely he’d bless them with another chance?

danielle’s guilt drove her to drink and drink heavily. she lied to the man she loved and couldn’t quiet the raging inner monologue that scorned save for drowning it at the bottom of a bottle. more than one argument came of gabe begging her to slow down and her subsequent refusal. he lost a child, he didn’t want to lose his wife, too. he stood with her through it all, hoping that one day everything would be better.

over a year later, happy news came once more. danielle was pregnant again, and she seemed elated. gabriel was over the moon. overnight everything seemed to improve: his wife had stopped drinking, he was going to be a father, they were a picture of happiness ready to work their lives around a new baby. not not everything was as it seemed.

one night, roused by a work call, gabriel realized his wife wasn’t in bed beside him. worried she might be feeling poorly from morning sickness he followed the trail of light into the bathroom and glanced in, just in time to watch danielle throw back a pill. he would have ignored it, but something in his gut told him otherwise. when he pushed the door open further, danielle jumped, frightened and caught off guard. the pill bottle fell to the floor and rolled to his feet. when he saw the label, he recognized the prescription name as a pregnancy terminator from a lawsuit he’d once worked.

his heart shattered in an instant. it’s important to note that gabriel never would have forced danielle to go through with a pregnancy she wasn’t comfortable in. and while it would have hurt, he would have accepted her decision with grace and understanding. it was the fact that she bold-face lied to him. she lied about being happy, she lied about wanting to build a life with him, she watched his grief and kept everything locked away, and was set on doing it again.

gabriel wordlessly moved back into the bedroom and got a suitcase to pack a bag. he wasn’t ready for a separation or divorce, he just couldn’t have her in his ear when he so desperately needed to think.

while his back was turned, danielle reached into his bedside table and pulled out a loaded gun he kept in case of emergencies and held it to his back. she demanded he hear her side of it before going anywhere. and so he did. for two days he was kept downstairs in the kitchen at gunpoint, allowed to do nothing except watch her drink and listen to her rant and beg his forgiveness.

she waved the gun around recklessly, throwing empty bottles on the wall behind him and the floor in front of his feet. he watched her do this with a distant, cold, dejected demeanor, never jumping or shying away from the blows she had to throw. he was hurting, more than he realized he ever could and numb to her wallowing. the suffering he felt was her cause, he was angry. hurt. he didn’t want to hear her, he didn’t want to look her in the eyes. there was a grim sense that they would both die there in that house, that she would put the gun to his temple and shoot and then die in any which way she chose to do.

it took all of his resolve and none of his might to realize that what he saw in her was a facade. for so long, he’d been the best he could be: for her, for his parents, even his undeserving brother. and where did it get him? alone. his parents never worried; he was the exalted heir, the good boy, they didn’t have cause. and his brother? he had taken all of gabriel’s shining example and corrupted it into nothing more than pretense to get where he needed to go before he commanded rule over dominion that was not his; an abusive, negligent tyrant no better than the pharaoh of egypt who let his people die for the sake of his pride. and his wife, the woman he’d devoted life and happiness to, turned on him with a glock aimed at his chest.

a beacon of hope came on the morning of the third day when his partner at the firm kept calling. when you’re a good lawyer, you make enemies with dangerous people. when you’re a great lawyer, you guarantee those enemies become lethal. gabe was a great lawyer. radio silence for two days was uncharacteristic for gabe, everyone had reason to worry. although the same could not be said for isaiah. danielle grew steadily more and more frustrated by the noise and gabriel told her to let him talk down the situation to keep the firm from calling again. she steadily agreed. it was the first time gabe had ever thanked god for making his wife an alcoholic.

for a long time, he and his partner established code words as a safety measure. different words had different meanings, the most rehearsed of which was BOOTH. as in john wilkes booth. as in someone was holding a gun to his head. so when gabriel said: “hey, i had to rush out of town for a family emergency, can you email me the details of the BOOTH case to look over when I get home?” danielle was none the wiser. but the partner knew to dial 911.

when the cops and ambulance showed up, everything went to shit. danielle panicked and shot the gun when they kicked in the door, frightening her into pulling the trigger. the bullet lodged in gabriel’s left shoulder and knocked him into the broken glass on the floor. realizing her mistake, she brought the gun to her head. the cops wrestled her down before she could pull the trigger for a second time.

once discharged from the hospital, gabriel drew up divorce papers, a restraining order, and a lawsuit. he got his divorce, he got the restraining order, and danielle was placed in prison.

gabriel left new york after that, electing to go back home to chicago. once back in the windy city, he looked for work as a private lawyer, one who wouldn’t join a firm until he could scope out which councilors he chose to have on his side and those he chose to fight.

working for the vasile family wasn’t planned, but he seemed to find his niche there. he’d seen plenty of violence in the world, he knew how ugly it could be, and he knew that even those closest to him were monsters in disguise. it was his time to chose to have on his side and who to fight for, rather than against.

seeing katerina again hadn’t been his motive, but he couldn’t say that those eyes wouldn’t bring just a little bit of light to his darkest days.

[queerofcups]

could you talk about why you're so into ian/mickey? i don't know tha tmuch about them (only watched a few of scenes of them together) but they just seem. toxic.

oh boy can i!

so the thing you’ve gotta understand about Ian/Mickey is that Shameless (US) first aired in January 2011. For reference, Glee started airing in 2009 and Blaine and Kurt kissed on primetime television in March 2011 and there were like, a lot of articles, in real newspapers and magazines about that kiss. It was referred to (erroneously, but people were excited) as the first show to have a primetime kiss between two men. While there was definitely LGBTQ+ media, there were not a lot of queer folks existing on primetime or premium television and there definitely weren’t a lot of them who were teenagers. I don’t think Shameles was the first to depict anything, but it was definitely one of the first shows in American television to show a relationship like Ian and Mickeys and be so popular. 

Because Shamess wasn’t always a bad show! Shameless used to be critically acclaimed, it used to regularly nominated for Emmys and shit.  

Ian is the whole reason I started watching Shameless. I was young and fannish and excited to see a gay character on screen. I was young enough to not be as squicked by Ian’s first relationship on the show as I was when I rewatched Season 1 a few weeks ago (Ian’s first boyfriend on the show is Kash, who’s older, married with kids and also Ian’s boss). And it was a desert for easily accessible queer content (I was watching a lot of queer movies at the time but there’s a real difference between a movie and a on-going TV show narratively) with an oasis or two that was usually shaped like a pretty white boy. 

Also. To speak to your notion of toxicity. You’re right. Ian and Mickey’s relationship is relatively toxic. If I knew them in real life I’d be telling both of them to get into therapy and also break the fuck up immediately. But back then and now, I find it refreshing to watch a story about two people that are in a context where money is very much an issue, and they’ve grown up shaped by poverty and crime as totally normal things. 

(Don’t…don’t get me started on the ways Shameless fails around the racial politics of Southside of Chicago. The cast is qwhite monochrome but its even worse when they try to engage with race. Liam’s whole character is just. Yikes.)

Pop culture and fandom are really drawn to characters that are middle-to-upper class or characters that don’t exist in situations where money is a concern. Ian and Mickey are poor, and they’ve been to prison a time or two and they’ve beaten each other bloody a time or two. There was a recent episode where they both thought the other killed their (shared) parole officer and didn’t believe the other when both denied killing her. It was played for laughs but that’s some fucking rich narrative material. Ian got compared to Kurt a lot when Shameless started and got called “real”. I mean, I’m not really here for erasing the experiences of LGBTQ+ kids (good or bad) because they’ve theoretically got some financial privilege, but obviously people were getting something from Ian that they weren’t getting from Kurt. 

Then there’s Mickey Milkovich. Uhm, CWs for sexual assault, parental abuse

So listen. To keep it one-hundo, if they re-did all of Shameless from Mickey’s perspective, I’d eat it up with a spoon. Because all the time the show has spent on Ian trying to “get out” and failing or succeeding and then ultimately failing, there’s been Mickey fuckin’ Milkovich. Mickey, who embraced the family name and family reputation of being a thug. Mickey, who’s a bottom (like. he claimes this, this isn’t me putting that label on him) and been relatively nonplussed about it and how it lines up with his masculinity for a decade now. Mickey, who was forced, literally. at gunpoint. by his father to have sex with a woman and then did his damndest to take care of her and his kid and his boyfriend for months. Mickey who constructed what was essentially an elopement for Ian despite having not seen him for what months? (years? time isn’t real on Shameslss), an elopement that would have worked if only for a while.

Tbh I started watching Shamless S10 because Mickey came back. And the fact that they’ve given Ian and Mickey more space in Season 10 only confirmed that they’re one of the most interesting elements of Shameless and Mickey is one of the most interesting characters on the show. If they’d actually give their relationship time and space to breath, they’d probably get nominated for some more awards. 

But they aren’t, so they won’t. So I’ll just keep writing deeply frustrated fanfiction. 

ETA: I posted and thought about a clarification. I think Mickey’s character benefits from not getting the over-writing that Ian’s character gets. Whether its because of behind the scenes stuff or just because Ian is both part of this huge ship and a Gallagher, he gets more screentime than Mickey and his stories for the last ten seasons have been all over the place. I feel like I know and understand Mickey much more as a character than Ian. He’s not fundamentally that different from himself in S1. There are some fundamental changes but his core personality is pretty much the same. Where as Ian’s character feels like he’s changed a lot over the last seasons. So like. Its not that I like Mickey and dislike Ian (well. mostly not.) and more that I think Mickey’s a better written character. 

[mst3kproject]

1102: Cry Wilderness

Cry Wilderness is, in my humble, unprofessional opinion, the worst movie of Season 11.  Every other film on the list had some kind of redeeming quality.  Avalanche had nice scenery.  The Christmas that Almost Wasn't took a look at the weird relationship between generosity and greed during the holiday season.  At the Earth's Core had Peter Cushing filling the caverns of Pellucidar with the fucks he did not give.  The Beast of Hollow Mountain proved that dinosaurs really do make everything better, even boring cowboy movies.  The only serious competition comes from Carnival Magic, but I'm giving the Garbage Crown to Cry Wilderness on the grounds that Carnival Magic was a bit less racist.

Last summer a boy named Paul met Bigfoot, and they became best friends – or at least, Paul became Bigfoot's coke dealer.  In the autumn when Paul has returned to boarding school, he wakes up in the middle of the night to see Bigfoot standing outside his window, telling him to go find his father immediately.  You don't just ignore a message like that, so Paul hitchhikes across the country to the national park where his dad works.  There he learns that the park rangers have been ordered to hunt down a mysterious predator that's decimated the local wildlife.  Could that be Bigfoot?  Paul certainly seems to think so, and he does everything in his power to thwart the hunters' quest.

This movie's Bigfoot looks really, really stupid.  Remember that episode of The Simpsons when Homer got covered in mud and moss and mistaken for Bigfoot?  If you've ever wondered what that would look like in real life, this is the movie for you.

It's tempting to compare Cry Wilderness to Pod People. Both are set in the woods, have weirdly irrelevant titles, and are about a lonely child's sugar-based friendship with a furry humanoid that doesn't talk.  I find, however, that Cry Wilderness reminds me more of Merlin's Shop of Mystical Wonders, in that it's just uncomfortable to watch.  The movie feels forced, as if the actors are doing all that awkward laughing at gunpoint.  The best metaphor I can think of to describe this is to draw your attention to the skin tones the makeup people used for Red Hawk and Jim – these don't look so much 'Native American' as they do 'nasty sunburn'.  The whole movie is like that. Everything it aims for, it misses its marks in ways that are gross and kind of painful-looking.

Yet for all Cry Wilderness is tremendously, tooth-grindingly terrible in every possible respect, I have to say that it actually does one thing pretty well.  It is better than Boggy Creek 2 at making us wonder about Bigfoot's status within the animal kingdom.

If you'll recall, in Boggy Creek 2 Lockhart spent a lot of time wondering if Bigfoot were man or beast, while events completely failed to back him up.  The Bigfoot of that film stole food, defended its territory and its young, investigated new objects, and feared fire.  The audience got the impression that Bigfoot was probably about as intelligent as a bear, which really isn't bad – any zookeeper will tell you bears are bright, curious animals that learn quickly.  What Boggy Creek's Bigfoot was not was especially human-like, not even in the ridiculous way sometimes presented in killer animal movies, like when the creatures of Bats somehow know that attacking power lines will leave humans unable to see in the dark (more on this when I get around to Phase IV).

Cry Wilderness, on the other hand, sets Bigfoot up as an ambiguous figure right from the opening scene.  When Paul describes his friendship with Bigfoot, he mentions two things the creature really likes: Coca-Cola and a radio.  A lot of animals, from insects on up to great apes, like soft drinks, and for exactly the same reason humans do – namely, soda pop is full of delicious diabetes and since sugars are the easiest source of calories the brain is programmed to seek them out.  One can imagine a monkey or raccoon learning to open a pop-tab can to get at the contents.  That doesn't really require a lot of higher cognitive ability, just dextrous fingers.  The radio, however, tells us that Bigfoot likes music.  A lot of science has been done about how animals react to music, but we still tend to think of it as characteristically human and that is how it is used in Cry Wilderness.  The suggestion is that a Bigfoot who enjoys listening to the chart-topping hits of 1987 can't be all beast.

Having thus established Bigfoot in this netherworld of 'neither man nor beast', the movie then goes to some trouble to keep him there. As the hunters close in, Bigfoot tries to evade them but leaves tracks and traces they can follow and makes no attempt to outsmart them, suggesting that he possesses no more than an animal's cunning. At the climax, however, he turns back to save Paul's father in an act of human-like altruism.  If this movie had Lockhart narrating at us about The Creature being More Man Than Animal, it would... well, Lockhart himself would still be an insufferable jackass, but he would at least seem to have a point.

But you guys have all seen the movie, so you're just waiting for me to get to the part where Bigfoot fucking talks.

There are two scenes in which Cry Wilderness presents Bigfoot as more of a supernatural entity than the mere undiscovered primate that the History Channel has sought so long and so fruitlessly.  The first is early in the movie, when Bigfoot appears outside Paul's window in the middle of the night to deliver his message in spoken, colloquial English.  This is very uncomfortable, as it makes Bigfoot just a little too human.  If he can talk, it becomes incredibly creepy that he's tracked a little boy down to where he sleeps.  The school principal argues that this sequence was nothing but a dream and I want to agree with him.  I feel better about it that way.

The second scene is at the end of the movie, when the formerly strict and skeptical principal gets a complete personality transplant and Bigfoot reappears, surrounded by deer and raccoons, to the delight of all.  I want to say this is a dream, too.  It seems like a piece of wish-fulfillment for Paul – he gets to prove that he's right, and the principal turns out to be not so bad after all. Unlike the previous dream sequence, however, it doesn't begin and end with Paul in bed.  It is presented as something that happened in the movie's real world, as if Bigfoot appears like Bloody Mary when you say his name.

If this is so, we seem to have a third possible identity for Bigfoot, which would make him neither man nor beast, but some kind of forest spirit.  This is actually not at all unprecedented as an interpretation.  Folklore is full of creatures that look like furry humans and act as guardians of the woods – there's the European woodwose, the Russian leszi, and the Chinese yeren, and of course the tales told by many Salish-speaking peoples of the American west coast, which are generally treated as Bigfoot stories.  Even the gorillai of Hanno the Navigator may be a version of this archetype, rather than a reference to what we now call gorillas. Such creatures are often described as tricksters or shapeshifters, and sometimes said to abduct or even eat misbehaving children.

Bigfoot as a sort of tutelary forest spirit, however, would seem to be very much at odds with Cry Wilderness' opening scene.  Here we see a Bigfoot-like humanoid in a museum, labeled as a species of primitive man.  This seems to offer a Bigfoot much more like the type cryptozoologists hunt for, a flesh-and-blood creature that could have its hair analyzed and its genome mapped and be placed firmly on a branch of the primate family tree.  Then again, maybe this, too, is intentionally ambiguous.  Maybe Cry Wilderness is telling us that we are simply not meant to know whether Bigfoot is man or beast, spirit or flesh, legend or reality, or that it can indeed be all of them at the same time.  The fact that we can't tell if Paul's school encounters are dreams or not may tie into this theme.

And that is one hundred percent of what's interesting about Cry Wilderness.  The rest of the movie is a lot of pointless bullshit, animal abuse, forced laughter, and boring Noble Savage stereotypes that will have your eyes rolling so hard you'll be staring yourself in the frontal lobe.  Looking around tumblr, it seems that a number of MSTies with Native American ancestry were very uncomfortable with its inclusion in the new series.  I kind of understand why.  Some things just don't deserve a wider audience, even if that audience is going to make fun of them.  A movie in which a child tells a man he's “just a dumb old Indian” and is never even reprimanded for it is arguably one of those things.

In closing, I would like to say that as a resident of the Rocky Mountain foothills, I do not believe in Bigfoot and I've never met anybody who does.  I've found evidence of bears, bobcats, cougars, and porcupines in my back yard, but nary a sign of Sasquatch.  Besides which, we live in an age when almost everybody has a camera on them constantly, and a near-unlimited capacity for sharing the photographs they take – if Bigfoot existed, we'd be slapping puppy ears on him in snapchat. You know we would.

[twdgfanfiction]

Chapter 9: Just A Kid

David scolded himself as he stood there, his hands up to show his surrender while the gun pointed at him continued to jab into the back of his neck. The thought of the kid pulling the trigger at any moment made his heart beat faster. He couldn't die, not then, not with Mariana alone at Charleston, waiting for him to come home. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he tried to keep calm while Ava stood in front of him and their attacker, her hands holding tightly onto her pistol as she stared up at him, unsure what to do while Axel kept close to her. His hand was held out in front of her, keeping the female survivor safely close to him as his other hand held the pistol up, trying to aim at the teen. Glaring at them all, the teen loudly demanded. "Drop your guns, or your friend's getting a bullet to the spine."

"Ava." David started, keeping eye contact with her as she glanced between him and the teen. With a deep frown, he nodded his head and ordered her. "Do as he says. Drop your gun."

Uncertainty was all he could see, but he knew that Ava trusted him, and surely enough she listened to his orders, dropping her gun on the ground with a loud clattering noise. Without anything to defend herself with, she raised her hands as the teen nodded, his voice softer when he muttered. "Alright, that's good. You too, old man."

"Watch who you're calling old, boy." Axel warned, refusing to lower his gun as David glared heavily at him. Standing there with a gun pointed at him, he didn't appreciate the other man gambling with his life, and was thankful when the teen decided not to just shoot him and be done with it. Instead, the teen just raised an eyebrow and lifted his head, showing more of his face with the light seeping in through the boarded windows.

"I don't wanna fight." He pointed out, his face softening as he tried to negotiate with the group. "So here's how it's going down. You two are gonna drop whatever you took from here and walk back out that door to wherever the fuck you came from, and I'll let your friend here join you."

Ava glanced over at Axel, waiting for any sign of what he wanted to do, and when she was given nothing, she turned back to David and the teen and started approaching slowly, her hands remaining up to show him that she was no threat to him. Softly, she started to address him. "You're here all alone?"

"No." He answered quickly, his voice a sharp snap while he continued to warn them. "My dad's coming back soon, and he doesn't like people going around in his shit. Stay where you are!"

"Okay, okay. Just keep calm, alright?" Ava obeyed, keeping her voice a soothing calm tone that seemed to make the teen less agitated. Stopping where she was, she stood on the side to David, able to see the teen clearly as she added. "Just let my friend go, and we'll leave. You won't be bothered by us again."

"Ava, we need that medicine." Axel pointed out aggressively, his hand tightening around his pistol while he glanced over at the other survivor, watching as she stood there with her hands up, ignoring his points with only a side glance as her acknowledgement of what he had to say. David wouldn't lie, he found himself siding with Axel on the matter. The medicine that they found here could set their community up for a good while, especially with the winter hanging over everyone's heads. On the other hand, the gun pointed at his head did much to persuade him to just leave this place alone, especially with the teen starting to get more agitated.

"We need this medicine more, it's all we got! This place is my dad's, all this shit is ours!" He growled, glancing between Axel and Ava while ordering them strongly. "Now, I ain't gonna ask you guys again. Lea-!"

David's body stiffened when a gunshot suddenly rang through the air, he felt the bullet just skim past him and heard yells of pain coming from behind him. His mind racing, all he wanted was to get away as he stumbled forward, Ava quickly running to his side as she held tightly onto his arm, pulling him away. Looking back over his shoulder, he was shocked to see the teen standing there, his hand pressed against his cheek, blood trickling over his fingers and dripping down onto the floor. Despite him holding the grown man at gunpoint, David was shocked when he felt himself feeling sorry for the teen, seeing the poor boy obviously scared as he stepped back when Axel closed the distance between them, kicking the gun that the boy dropped towards David.

Scooping it off the ground, he straightened himself up in time to see Axel still aiming his gun at the teen. Eyebrows furrowed, and when he was about to say something, Ava cut him off as she approached the others, having picked up the gun that she dropped before. With a quiet hiss, she warned him. "Drop the gun, Axel! He's no trouble to us anymore."

"You forgot that he just had a fucking gun to David's head? If this boy wants to act like a man, I'm gonna treat him like a man!" He snarled, unwavering even when Ava suddenly placed her hand on top of his, forcing him to lower the weapon while the teen stood there, staring at her with surprise clear on his bloodied face.

With a heated glare, she turned to look at the teen and replied with more sympathy in her voice. "He's just a scared kid!"

"We're all scared!" Axel pointed out, wrenching his hand from Ava's and taking one last look at the boy, before he turned back around. Budging past David, he carried on into the once locked room, ignoring the heated glares he was getting from the other grown ups as he ordered them. "I'm seeing what else is in here. Do whatever to the kid, but be ready to head out in ten minutes."

After that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving the others alone to do what they needed to do. While the others returned back to scavenging for supplies, Ava paid no attention to him, rather moving towards the teen and guiding him over to chairs near the boarded window. He was stunned, following after her with his hand turning red from the blood dripping out of his wound, and when he sat down Ava tried to get him to remove his hand to allow her a better look at this wound. David approached them, wincing when he saw Ava succeed in removing the hand, letting it fall to the kid's lap as she too grimaced at the state of his face. The bullet had only skimmed the flesh of his cheek, but the torn flesh and splattered blood made it look a whole lot worse.

"Jesus…" David muttered, watching as Ava gently grasped the teen's chin with her fingers and moved his head to get a better look, letting him pull down his hoodie to show more of his face. Even with the patchy facial hair, he only looked in his late teens, bushy hair shining a dull black in the miniscule light in the store and brown eyes narrowed with pain and fear clear in them. When she moved to touch the wound, he recoiled and whimpered in pain, causing her to pause and stare at him sympathetically.

"Sorry about that, kid." She apologised, turning her head to look over at David before she ordered him. "David, I need some disinfectant and gauze for this. You should find some in the backpack I left on the floor."

Nodding, he turned around to see the same backpack Ava had dropped before she tried to save him from his attacker, since the top hadn't even been closed, some of its contents were scattered around. Stopping in front of it as he picked it all up, he wondered how Axel could just pull the trigger like that, even with the gun poking into his spine just moments ago. Seeing the teen sitting there, alone and terrified and hurting sickened him, he tried to push that feeling down in his stomach as he shoved all the medicine and supplies that Ava had gathered, before walking back over to them with the bag in hand. The teen was watching him, narrowed eyes wincing when his own hand was brought up to brush against his wound.

He almost seemed shocked that Axel had actually shot him.

"It doesn't look like anything really bad." Ava explained, adding with a mutter. "Course, I'm not a doctor. I'd stop playing with it."

"S-Sorry." He mumbled, falling silent and instead watching as Ava turned to David, taking the bag out of his hand with a smile.

"Let's see what we have here." Glancing inside the bag, her hands dug around in the contents while David looked over at the teen, him and the teen sharing a look before the latter looked away, guilt and pain clear on his face that made the grown man think about just before. However, those thoughts were interrupted as Ava pulled out a bottle of a clear liquid, the worn label reading hydrogen peroxide. With the other hand retracting with a piece of cloth, she turned her attention back to the injured party and asked him. "So, you gonna tell us your name?"

"It's… it's Vincent, but my friends called me Vince." He replied, glancing down at Ava with a nervous look. Quickly, it becomes apparent he was unnerved by the sight of the disinfectant in Ava's hand, and quietly asked the older woman. "That's gonna hurt isn't it?"

"I ain't gonna lie, it's gonna sting like shit, but we gotta make sure it doesn't get infected." She explained, unscrewing the top of the bottle and placing the cloth on top of it, tipping it slightly to wetten it before screwing the top back on. With the cloth in hand, she moved closer to Vincent, nearing the wound with the disinfectant while pointing out to him. "Think happy thoughts."

Saying nothing, he just glared at her poor attempted joke before biting back a yelp of pain when she wiped down his wound. Without the blood splattered all around it, David could see how much damage was done to the face. When the blood stained cloth pulled back, the torn flesh made his stomach churn as he glanced away. He wasn't unnerved by violence. In the army, he'd seen it all, but to see it on such a youthful face, to see that pain and fear, he didn't know if he could ever get over it. While Ava was dealing with that, the newfound silence meant that they could hear approaching growls.

"What the…?" David muttered, moving quickly over to the window and peering through the boards. Outside, he could see more walkers than there was before, shambling towards the pharmacy with arms stretched out and growling loud even through the thick boards and window. The sight of the large group moving towards them caused David's heart to seize up, his face fallen as he backed away while cursing loudly. "Shit! You gotta hurry up with that, Ava."

"Why? What's wrong?" She asked urgently, looking over from Vincent's wound as both she and the teen glanced up at David.

Scooping the bat from where he dropped it, he turned back to the others when the sound of growling and banging on the windows caught their attention. With a deep frown, he stared at the boarded up window and replied. "We got company."

"If we stay here any longer, we're walker food." Ava pointed out, wincing when the boards started creaking under the weight of all the walkers on the other side. Turning back to Vincent, she finished treating the wound by placing a thick gauze over it, taping it to his face before standing up with her gun drawn. "Keep close to us, kid. We'll get you back to Charleston with us."

"You think that's a good idea!?" Axel grumbled, suddenly appearing out of the door with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Ava glared at him as he continued. "That kid nearly put a bullet in the back of David's head. Stephen ain't gonna like people like that in his community!"

"Funny, I thought Maria was in charge." David shot back as Axel opened his mouth but shut it again, saying nothing else as he just glared at him. Turning back to the loud banging when he noticed the boards starting to come loose, adrenaline started flowing through his veins, David glancing over at Ava and Vincent, before turning his attention to Axel as he added. "We wouldn't in this mess in first place if you didn't go all fucking trigger happy!"

"That's some fucking gratitude there, I saved your life!" Axel snapped, glancing over at Ava and Vincent as he approached them, the grown woman moving in front of the boy protectively while he growled. "We should leave your fucking ass to rot for the shit you pulled!"

"Hey, that's enough!" She shouted, glancing between the grown men while she continued. "We can talk about this when we're in the clear, which is not now!"

"She's right. We can get out through the fire exit here!" David agreed, looking over at the closed door leading back into the alleyway. Axel followed his gaze, before nodding in response and rushing over to the door with all of them following after. When he wrenched the door open however, they were greeted with walkers that had made their way down the alleyway beforehand, the door being slammed in their faces before they could try to force their way into the pharmacy.

"Fuck!" Axel snapped, turning to the others with a desperate tone in his voice. "We're trapped!"

"No, there's a staircase leading upstairs." Vincent revealed, catching everyone's attention as he pointed over at a closed door. "Come on, we can escape those ghouls up there!"

"Let's go!" Ava ordered, taking Vincent by his arm and running over to the door with him. David followed after her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears when he saw one of the boards slide down by the walker's constant pounding, allowing some of them to slip through the open space into the pharmacy. Axel noticed them as well, standing by the door to allow David to slip through before he too went through, slamming the door shut to stop them from getting in.

With Ava and Vincent waiting on the stairs, David paused at the bottom staring at the other grown man as he shook his head with a deep frown, turning to the others while ordering them. "This door ain't gonna hold. Find something to block it before they bust their way through! David, help me hold this!"

David nodded and shoved his shoulder into the door, feeling the walkers behind it starting to slam their hands against it, desperate to get inside to where the survivors where. The force started to build up, David glancing at Axel to see him straining as well, trying his best to keep the walkers from forcing the door open. One particular slam caused the door to open slightly, David grunting loudly as he tried to close it again. However, an arm stuck out through the space, dirtied nails attempting to claw at the men while they tried to keep the walkers at bay, more and more growling and smacking against the wood while David called up the stairs. "Ava, it's not holding!"

"Watch out!" She shouted, the sound of something rumbling towards them fast causing David to glance up. He jumped backwards as a cupboard suddenly came tumbling down, the door opening slightly without them keeping it closed. A flash of the walkers behind them stopped his heart, but the cupboard slammed the door closed once more. The arm that was sticking through it, trying to grab the survivors, was severed off from the force, dropping to the floor while the fingers curled up.

Staring at it in disgust, David looked back upstairs to see Ava standing there, panting heavily while staring down at the other adults. She looked terrified, especially when the door vibrated with the numerous walkers behind it trying to get through. However, the cupboard held its ground, keeping the danger out though keeping the survivors stuck in the upstairs apartment. Backing away, David started walking up the stairs with Axel behind him, his breathing slowing down with his heart as he knew he was out of danger. Calming himself down, he stopped when he reached the top of the stairs, glancing into the apartment when Axel moved past him, walking into the room and looking around with his arms crossed.

"Pretty cosy up here. You and your dad been here these few weeks?" He asked, turning his head to look at Vincent, the teen just walking over to the couch and sitting down on it. David, meanwhile, walked to Ava's side while she looked through the cupboards in the kitchen area, trying to see if there was anything inside that they could take. Besides a few canned goods, there really wasn't much left in there. David wondered how long Vincent could have survived in this apartment. Without his father, and the food situation dwindling as bad as they could see, he didn't really want to think about the possible future for the teenager.

Ava paid more attention to their conversation, intrigued with the mention of the young boy's father again as she turned away from the cupboards, leaving David to search through while she interjected into the talking. "It's pretty small to live here for a while. Was it just you and your dad."

David remained silent. Rather, he listened as Vincent explained with a deep sigh. "Yeah, it's just been us. I've lived here for a long time. It's pretty safe, so we can wait until my dad finds me again."

"Be reasonable, kid." Axel pointed out, walking briskly towards the window that showed the streets below. Peering down, his face fell at the sight that David and the others couldn't see, but the soldier could hazard a guess as to what it was he could see. In the background, the walkers were still pounding on the door, trying to break it down and flood upstairs into the apartment where the survivors were. Both David and Ava backed away from the cupboards, leaving what little food remained in them alone while they turned their attention back to the others in front of them.

"What'd you mean?" Vincent questioned, aggression clear in his voice as he leaned forward on his seat on the couch. Eyes narrowed, he glared heavily at the man when Axel didn't immediately reply to his accusations, and continued with his anger barely contained. "How am I not being 'reasonable'?! My dad's still out there, he's just scouting!"

"When was the last time you saw your dad, Vince?" Ava interrupted, moving from David's side as she put herself between the two arguing parties. The only calm voice there, she was able to keep Vincent from blowing up at the older man, and her question only dampened the fires inside the teen for a moment.

His frown deepening, he let his head hang for a moment, voice soft and unsure as he mumbled his reply to the older woman. "He left a few days ago. Said he was gonna see if he could get into a part of town that was sealed off. He told me to stay here until he comes back, so that's what I'm doing."

"A few days on your own. That must've been pretty awful with all the walkers out there." She pointed out, sympathy clear in her tone as she stared down at Vincent with a softened gaze that contrasted Axel's stern expression. David kept out of it, but he too felt sorry for the poor boy left alone in the apartment, wondering how he was able to sleep at night with the groans and the noises coming from just outside his window. Vincent seemed thoughtful over what she said, seemingly surprised with how terrifying that must have been, as if he hadn't considered it like that and just took whatever happened on the chin.

After a few moments on contemplation, he finally spoke up with a gruff reply. "It's fine. Those fuckers can't get in when you lock the door."

"Vincent..." David started, walking towards the arm of the couch as he slowly sat on it, staring down at the teen while the latter glanced up at him, both of them staring at each other for a few seconds as David tried to think of the best way to say what he thought without upsetting Vincent. Finally jumping into it, he carried on in a sterner voice. "To be honest, I don't think your dad is coming back."

"David!" Ava reprimanded, glaring heavily at him while he brushed her reaction off. "That wasn't the best way to do that, don't you think?"

"You guys don't know him." The teenager replied, getting an annoyed scoff from Axel, which he ignored as he continued speaking, raising his voice. "My dad knows what to do out there, alright? he'll be home soon and then you guys can go back to your community! We'll be fine here… We always have."

That last sentence was uttered with a quieter tone, Vincent appearing more unsure the more the adults tried to convince him to see reason. Ava, the only one out of the trio, moved closer to him until she finally sat next to him, offering him a comforting hand on his shoulder that Vincent didn't shrug off. Quietly, she glanced up at David, her stern, heated glares softening to uncertainty and sympathy for their situation, a look that David himself returned fully. Finally, Ava decided to explain to the teen, to try and make him see sense when all they could see was a missing father, and days where Vincent was all alone. Softly, she spoke up to him. "I know you miss your dad. We gotta look at this from our point of view, though, kid. Your dad's been gone for days. Even if he's alive, do you really think we'd feel better leaving you here, with all the walkers just downstairs?"

Vincent didn't reply immediately, rather he stared down at the floor with saddened glint in his eyes. David crossed his arms, his previously stern voice quieting as if he was talking to one of his own children. "You'll be safer in Charleston with us. If you still wanna look for your dad, we can do that some other day."

"And if I leave and he comes back? What then?" He asked, digging his heels in further and it soon became apparent that he would need more convincing to see the dangers of leaving him behind. David started thinking that maybe it was a lost cause. No matter what he or Ava said, it did little to convince Vincent that being in Charleston was safer for him than remaining at his home, waiting for his father to return when he might have been dead all along. However, Ava proved nothing if not stubborn and carried on with a stricter voice.

"Kid, do you think your dad would want you to put yourself in danger like this? Do you think he'd want to come back to find you dead?" She asked, keeping her cool when Vincent appeared shocked and continued before he could snap at her. She uttered her next words with a serious expression, trying to get him to understand the gravity of their situation. "That is what he's gonna find if we leave you here with the walkers. That door won't hold forever."

"We want to help you, Vince, but you're making it pretty hard to do that." David butted in, glancing over to see that Axel was growing annoyed with their persuasion, and quickly added in hopes that he could convince the teen. "Your dad could come to Charleston if he comes back here. It's not that far away."

Vincent noticed David's glances over at Axel, his face falling in anger as the two glared heavily at each other while the other scouts stood there nervously. Finally, he backed down, and with his sights set back on David, the teenage boy nodded slowly and finally gave in with a quiet mumble. "Alright. You guys do make that place sound pretty nice."

"Before we start welcoming people into the community and that," Axel started, grabbing the group's attention while he glanced out of the window again, this time moving away just as quickly and instead walking towards the center of the living room area, near the large TV that stood on the solid wooden stand. "We gotta wait until those smelly fuckers downstairs clear out. Keep quiet, and they should lose interest."

"Eventually." David sighed in frustration, walking towards the spot that Axel was previously standing by the window. Peering out, he could finally see what the other grown man saw beforehand. Walkers flooded the streets. All that infested the pharmacy below pushed others out of the building, leaving them to roam across the streets until an unlucky survivor stumbled across them. The moans and growls from the undead could be heard from where he stood, especially with all the living in the room falling silent as the arguments died down. With his back to them, David listened as Ava started muttering something to Vincent, the two of them quietly having a conversation that he couldn't make out, and it seemed that Axel wasn't joining in as he rather walked towards the window that David was standing by.

He didn't move when the newcomer leaned against the window sill opposite him, staring down at the plagued streets with no emotion showing in his worn face. His gaze was unfocused, as if he was staring at something that wasn't really there, and with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he turned his head slowly to David and grumbled. "You really wanna give that kid a chance?"

"Other than aiming a gun at my head, he's pretty cool." David shot back sarcastically, glancing over his shoulder at the distracted Vincent before softly adding. "He's just been through a lot. At least in Charleston we can be there for him growing up, rather than just throwing him to the wolves. No point in giving up on others."

"You wanna know what I think? That empathy of yours is gonna get us killed one day…But at least it's something for you to hold onto. Not many people have something to keep 'em going." Axel pointed out, staring at Ava as she chuckled softly, laughing at something that Vincent said to her as the latter joined in laughing. The scene was heartwarming, David smiling faintly at it while listening as the other man continued with a gruffer tone. "Your friend has her heart in the right place but she lets her emotions cloud her judgement too much. She coulda gotten you killed before if Vincent decided to pull the trigger."

"She saved my life, even before this. She's my friend so back the fuck off." David snarled, feeling anger bubbling deep in his stomach as defensiveness wracked his voice, dropping it to a guttural growl that sought Axel off his back. Ava was his friend, hell, she was the closest person to David besides Mariana, and he found himself getting angrier with the other survivor before pushing it back down. His mind recalled the last time he lost it, back in the town when that walker grabbed Mariana. He scared her so bad, and he knew that if he lost it, he would terrify Vincent and probably put the teen off from returning to Charleston with them.

So, he let it go. Axel was surprised with the outburst, eyebrows raised before he returned to his stoic appearance just as quickly. David was sure he would reprimand him, feeling something in his gut that once they returned home, he would be running back to Stephen with the report on how both David and Ava fucked up. He didn't like leaving Charleston to scout, but that didn't mean he was fine with being benched either. He was sure Ava would agree with that as well. However, he couldn't stop that pleased feeling when Axel just shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, then. I appreciate someone who stands by his comrades. Just keep an eye on the walkers below."

And with that order, Axel walked away from David without saying another word. Rather, he settled down on one of the lone chairs, earning a glance from Ava and Vincent before the former looked over at David with worry, both of them saying nothing and rather just staring at each other for a few moments before she turned her attention back to Vincent, resuming their conversations while he kept watch. His legs ached from the running, the muscles in his shoulders starting to become tender when he pressed one of them into the cold glass, leaning the side of his head and, instead of watching the walkers stumbling around the streets, just stared off into the distance with an unfocused gaze. He didn't know how long it would take for the pharmacy to clear out, if it would at all, and his mind drifted to the blocked door downstairs with his mind running with numerous possibilities at once.

The door might hold, it might not have, but maybe Axel was right just before. If they kept quiet then the walkers would lose interest in whatever was upstairs and leave them alone, though he didn't know if that was even possible. The walkers seemed to stretch forever. Clogging up the streets, the alleyways in the distance, even dust being kicked up from the herd could be seen further down the streets of the city, and worry started gnawing at David's innards for the others in their group. Alexis, Carissa, Jordan. He hoped that most of the walkers were here rather than over the other part of the city. If they didn't reach the meet up point before nightfall, then Carissa would lead the group back to Charleston. David wondered if they would assume the worst happened to them, or hold out hope that somehow, somewhere, he and the others were alright. The thought of Mariana waiting for him to come home, it cut him deeply and yet gave him the determination he needed to try and get back home. Back to his daughter.

With the hours slowly trudging by, David didn't move from his spot even when Ava offered to take over watch. He couldn't sit down and wait. Doing nothing, it just left him with the time to mull over things that he didn't want to think about, and he hated being unable to do something to help the group. So, he kept watch silently while Vincent had fallen asleep. The poor boy must have been exhausted, likely not sleeping well alone and with danger outside his window, and David noticed that Ava sat beside him, letting the boy place his legs over her lap while he slept peacefully. Head leaning into the palm of her hand, she just stared at the broken TV with eyes half closed, between the point where she fell asleep and where she pulled herself away from the brink.

When he looked over at Axel, he noticed that the other grown man was nowhere as tired as Ava or Vincent, rather just sitting straight in his chair with his hands in his lap, thumbs twiddling with each other to occupy his mind, distracting the leader from the groans that they could still hear from the walkers. The slamming against the door had long ceased, and with the summer sun starting to dip behind the buildings, the walkers were moving away from the pharmacy again, on their neverending search for food. The sky was starting to change colour, the bright blue of the day giving way to the warm reds, oranges and yellows of the sunset, the shadows casted by the tall buildings casting the streets below in darkness. Some of the undead had stopped moving altogether, rather settling down on the abandoned road and waiting for food to come to them, and soon the darkness covered them from David's sights.

The room darkened more as the sunlight died out, the group starting to rouse up when Axel stood up, turning to Ava as he gestured to the sleeping Vincent with a flick of his head, explaining to her while David finally left his post at the window. "Wake the boy up. We're moving out."

"Is it safe enough out there?" She replied softly, lifting her head from her hand slowly while glancing down at Vincent's sleeping face. She seemed unwilling to disturb him, bringing him out of whatever dreams he was having and shoving him back out into the grim reality of their world.

Axel grunted in response, looking at the dimming sunlight outside as he muttered bitterly. "It's never safe enough, but if we stay here then we'll miss the meet up with Carissa and the others. We don't have much time left."

Ava conceded to that and moved her hand to shake the teen's shoulder, trying to stir him from his slumber. After a few moments of shaking him, big brown eyes opened slowly and blinked, ridding the sleep from them as Vincent brought a hand up to rub his eyes. As he glanced around in that tired haze, he almost looked confused as to where he was, and who the people surrounding him where, and David could see his face shifting to that split second of fear, his brain trying to work out whether what happened before was a dream or not while his hand moved to trace over the gauze taped to his face. That realisation hit him like a ton of bricks, and disappointment was clear on his face when Ava explained to him. "You gotta wake up, kid. We're leaving now."

"My dad… did he…?" He started, but let the words trail off when Ava gave him a grim look and shook her head without saying anything. She didn't need to, as Vincent understood from her face and gesture the answer to his question and just let the subject slid, that disappointment almost soul crushing to David as he watched in pity. Before he could offer any condolences, however, Vincent just swung his legs off ava's lap and stood up from the couch, unwilling to look at any of the adults as he just sighed. "Come on. We can get out through the fire escape in my bedroom."

"Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, Vincent." Axel ordered, allowing Vincent to move past him and towards a closed door leading into one of the two bedrooms in the apartment. David paused, glancing over to Ava as she rose from the couch and stretched her arms out until the joints popped loudly, letting them fall to her sides and turning to him with a faint smile. When he returned it, she quietly grabbed the bag she left by the side of the couch and moved to follow after the others while David grabbed the bat he left by the door.

With the weapon in his hand, he glanced down the stairs to the blocked door and wondered what Vincent's father would do if he did return after they left. With no way up to the apartment, he thought about what the missing survivor would do before he just shook his mind free of those thoughts, following after the others quickly. Ava had waited for him by the door leading into the bedroom, letting David pass before she too entered the room and closed the door behind her. The room wasn't all that big, with a single bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a bedside table with a lamp that no longer worked. The window leading to the dire escape was opened, letting in the faint summer breeze that cooled David down as he peeked at a baseball that was left on the stand on top of the dresser.

A signature was scribbled over the greyed fabric, looking somewhat familiar to David as he went to pick it up, his hand freezing when Vincent snapped at him. "Don't touch anything."

"I take it you're a baseball fan?" David pointed out, letting his hand drop back to his side as he peered over at Vincent, noticing his expression turn from one of annoyance to pride. The teen moved from the window to his side, picking the baseball up and tossing it lightly in his hand.

"I started collecting signatures when I was just a kid. My dad took me to every baseball game for our team. The only thing we really liked together." He reminisced, his voice dropping in tone as he continued softly. "I was in the South Charleston High School baseball team. Pretty good at it too. It was after one of my games that my dad got me this baseball signature. Javier Garcia."

The mention of his brother's name caused David to frown deeply. In his gut, that familiar pange of jealousy stirred up as he stared at Vincent's proud face, his prized possession in his hand before he shoved it in his hoodie pocket, quickly adding as he turned around to walk back to the window. "It's just a stupid dream now. We got more pressing issues to deal with."

It was almost sad, thinking about Vincent's happy tone and eagerness to talk about something as simple as a signed baseball that his father gave him, and only for the pressing issues plaguing the group pushing that childlike enthusiasm down once more. David paused in following Vincent and Axel as they climbed out of the window onto the fire escape outside, glancing at a collection of photos that was taped to the wall above the teen's bed. Vincent in black and orange colours, a baseball bat in his hand and a huge grin on his face as he stood next to an older looking man, his dark coloured skin even darker than Vincent's. They looked happy. Slowly, he plucked it from the wall and held onto it, knowing that Vincent would want something more than just a baseball to remember his father.

"David, come on. We gotta go." Ava called, having slipped through the window as well and was waiting for him to join them, Vincent and Axel nowhere to be seen from where David was standing. Glancing back at the pictures, David pocketed one of them and walked towards the window, hauling himself out onto the fire escape with a deep grunt. Out of the apartment, he peered down to the alleyway down below, noticing that there was hardly any walkers down below.

"We can get down into the streets from here." Vincent pointed out, making his way down the fire escape ladder. "Follow me."

And so they did. Leaving the open window behind them, the group slowly descended down the old, creaking fire escape until they reached the bottom level. The last to climb down the ladder, David paused when he saw Axel and Ava peering down to the ground down below them. The last ladder that led to the ground was broken, the useless thing lying down below and leaving them stuck up above. Moving away from the edge, Axel turned to David and sighed in frustration. "Well, we can get down, but there ain't no getting back up here if it all goes to shit."

"Guess we gotta make sure it doesn't then, huh?" David shot back, watching Axel hum to that and turn his back to him. With a frown, he turned to Vincent and Ava, walking towards the two survivors while he explained quietly, unwilling to bring attention of anything that was lurking in the alleyway to them. "Be careful with the jump. Getting a busted leg is a death sentence out here."

"I can do it. Don't worry." Vincent replied, moving towards the edge of the fire escape and sitting down, letting his long legs dangle over the edge as he peeked down, making sure no walkers were directly below him before he pushed himself off. A heavy thud and a low grunt of exertion came from him as David looked down, noticing that the teen had managed to get down without hurting himself and was waiting for the others to join him.

"Outta the way, big boy. I got this." Ava joked, pushing past David and lowering her body to the floor of the fire escape. Her hand pushed against the cold metal, she jumped down onto the ground below to join Vincent, her heavy army boots making a loud thudding noise as they collided with the hard stone floor.

David paused, his face contorted in confusion as he gone over what she just called him, before he turned to Axel standing right next to him and asked him. "Did she just call me fat?"

Shrugging in response, Axel moved to sit down on the edge of the fire escape, pushing himself off and landing awkwardly on the ground below, his body hitting the floor and a loud grunt coming from the older man as he groaned in pain. Vincent and Ava chuckled at that, all while David watched in amusement at the leader's mistake, before jumping down himself. His knees bend with the collision, and quietly groaning in pain from the movement, David straightened himself up while Axel finally managed to pick himself off of the ground, brushing the dust off his coat while Ava shared a grin with Vincent over the mishap. Quickly, they lost the grin when he looked up at them, appearing serious while he started walking down the alleyway. "We can get out into the streets this way, then it's just straight back towards the bridge. Stick together and stay sharp. Walkers are more dangerous when you can't see them coming."

The other three survivors followed after their leader, Vincent keeping behind Ava and David as they walked down the empty alleyway, the open streets clear to see from where they stood. Watching the boy carefully, he noticed the teen glancing back over his shoulder, looking upwards at the window as they moved further and further away, before looking back ahead with a grim expression on his face. Turning his head back around, he listened as Ava pointed out. "You think the others are still waiting for us at the bridge?"

"I don't know." He confessed, peering down at her as he continued. "Carissa did say she'd leave if we weren't there by nightfall, and we're already running out of daylight."

"At least it's only over the bridge if they're not there, but there might still be walkers there. I don't feel right fighting with only four of us instead of six, especially if there's more than before." Ava sighed, fiddling with the dog tags that were left around her neck absentmindedly while David stared down at them. Almost on instinct, he reached for his own, only for his hand to meet air and the realisation that he didn't have them hitting him again. At the very least, Gabe had something to remind him of his father. Wherever he was.

For now, David would have to focus on just getting back to Charleston.

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

An Unpopular Opinion About Oswald Cobblepot

This opinion is not for everyone. I won’t hate you if you don’t read it.

But if you were offended, hurt, or confused by Robin Lord Taylor’s interview where he stated that Oswald couldn’t love? I think this may be worth reading.

First of all, I want to apologize to Robin. Because, at the time, I didn’t know what he meant and leapt to conclusions about why he would say such a thing. I am now reasonably certain Robin was talking about this episode, 3x14 “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies.” The episode we learn that Oswald can’t love. “But he sacrificed himself for Ed!!!” I know, I know... and yes, that is the first step as Oswald begins to understand what love truly is, and not just in Ed’s eyes, but the actual emotional and mental requirements of love. But he doesn’t love Ed. Yet. Robin’s statement, too, should have been amended to say yet, if it helps.

Now please, hear me out, and understand this doesn’t come from a place of hate or retribution. I am not trying to bully Oswald nor anyone who loves or identifies with him. One could call me biased in Ed’s favor, and you’d be right. I will own that, and if you want to discredit what I’m saying based on that, go ahead, but please read to the end first.

I am a devout Nygmobblepot shipper as well as you and I want nothing more than to see this relationship do well and I think it can! I have TREMENDOUS hope for it and I truly believe the show is heading us in that direction, even now. Yes, even now, and I think the events as I describe them here only reinforce that. And the last thing I want to do is label the ship ‘problematic,’ I want it to be healthy. And that’s... why I’m making this post. Because currently their relationship isn’t healthy, yes, even considering Oswald’s sacrifice. But it can be, it REALLY can, and I so want it to be.

So... misgivings and disclaimers out of the way, I’ve given you all the warning I can that this is going to hurt. I'm just going to proceed now.

There’s been some posts going around tumblr that were bothering me. They were gifsets comparing Fish Mooney’s creation speech to Oswald in 3x02 to Oswald’s creation speech to Ed in 3x14. And they bothered me because, while the text might be similar, the intent could not be more diametrically opposed. And, I could be wrong, people might have been spreading them around to see the contrast, but I saw a lot of people treating the speeches as if they were similar, if not identical. I beg your patience to let me disagree with that claim and dissect them for a minute.

Superficially, one can argue that they both use the “I created you” emotional manipulation ploy to save their own skins. As they are both being held at gunpoint at the time. But I don’t think this is true in either case. Fish tells Oswald the truth because she has no reason not to and she is already out of time. Even if Oswald doesn’t shoot her, there’s no guarantee on her lifespan, so what does she have to gain by lying to him? Besides which, if she does die... he is what she leaves behind. And she is, actually, proud of that. In this moment, she accepts him, as her son and heir, and gives him the right to kill her, if he so chooses. She says,

Because you’re mine. You were my umbrella boy, remember? You rubbed my feet when they were tired. And now look at you: the terror of Gotham. Everything I’ve done in my life, possibly the best thing, was turning Oswald Cobblepot into the Penguin. I couldn’t destroy that.

And it’s worth noting that she only says this in response to a direct question, when Oswald demands an explanation for why he’s not dead right now.�� She says all of this to wind up at ‘I couldn’t destroy that.’ Now that’s... not why Oswald says what he says.

When I met you, you were a nervous, jittery loser. You were nothing! I created Edward Nygma! And I am the only one in the world who truly sees you as you are, who you can still become. You can’t do this.

Seeing them back to back, free of the heartbreaking images, kinda makes the difference more stark doesn’t it?

First of all, Ed didn’t ask anything, he stated “You killed her, so you die” and this is how Oswald responds. He responds with tearing Ed down, by making him feel small and powerless. By insisting he needs him, that Ed needs Oswald to be powerful, even just to be himself. And it’s significant that Oswald offers this as a defense of why he should live, why Ed shouldn’t kill him.

And true, Fish brings up where Oswald started, her umbrella boy, but NOT to tear him down! She does it to say ‘look how far you’ve come.’ She moves past it to show his progress. Because it’s his PROGRESS she’s proud of, it’s the man he is now that Fish accepts and... in a sense, would die for. Oswald doesn’t do that. He doesn’t get beyond reminding Ed what he was and, pointedly, reminding him who’s responsible for making him more than that. In a way, he’s saying Ed owes him. But he’s definitely saying Ed’s nothing without him.

And that’s not what Fish said. Fish has been gone, out of Oswald’s life for a year, she’s had no hold on him, and she’s remarking on what he’s done in the meantime. When she says ‘I created you’ she means she enabled his becoming, gave him the tools, taught him the steps, then stood back and watched him flourish. True, she was... dead most of that time, but besides the point. She is not making him feel like he owes her, she’s just taking credit, not even credit, pride for her part in him, not the whole, and not his achievements, which are his and his solely. Again, this is not what Oswald does. Oswald brings Ed back to the beginning purely to make him feel like he needs Oswald, purely to manipulate Ed into not shooting him. Oswald isn’t proud of him, at least he doesn’t say so here. Oswald doesn’t laud Ed’s achievements, he doesn’t even mention them. He only says that if Ed wants to continue being whatever he is now, he needs Oswald with him. That’s... that’s not pride. It’s not even healthy as he’s literally saying Ed cannot function independently. Which is patently untrue, as Ed’s run him in circles for the past week.

Just look at where they end. In the end, Fish justifies her OWN inaction and gives Oswald permission to take whatever action he feels is necessary. Oswald, on the other hand, FORBIDS Ed’s action, won’t let Ed decide what’s best for himself, tries to trap him in this manufactured need. Oswald does not accept and has not accepted Ed’s decisions for some time. And that, at the heart of it all, is what Ed is most mad about. Oswald didn’t accept his choice of girlfriend. Oswald didn’t accept how he dealt with his grief. Oswald didn’t accept his resignation. Oswald didn’t accept him WALKING OUT on him. Let’s be real, all Oswald does after that is complain how Ed’s not here, calls him obsessively, and whines about getting him back. Oswald hasn’t accepted a single goddamn decision of Ed’s that he didn’t like, which was... all of them. And sure, any single one of these moments is perhaps trivial, but look at what’s underlying it: Oswald will not accept Ed’s autonomy. And he’s not doing it again here.

Now, HERE it makes sense because, you know, Ed’s gonna kill him. Literally has a gun pointed at his chest and has said many times that... he’s going to kill Oswald. Except... Oswald hasn’t acted in self-preservation for the entire episode. Most notably in JUST the previous scene Oswald completely turns coat on self-preservation and would rather give up his own life than give up Ed. Which complicates things a bit. And that’s what puzzled me about Oswald’s speech on the docks, because normally I’d chalk it up to self-preservation. Only, when Oswald really IS out to save his own skin, he’s a LOT better at it. And it was just proven to us that Oswald in fact isn’t here to save himself. Because he loves Ed. At least, he’d die for him. So, what’s this about? Why would Oswald cut him down like this if he loves him? And he’s not actively trying to survive?

Well, my dear @amaranthineexcuse​ had the answer and so tenderly and eloquently puts it, much better than I ever could have:

Oswald wants to cripple Ed so that he'll stay with him. Oswald is fucking terrified that Ed will leave him. [...] Oswald just proved that he'd destroy either of them to keep Ed. Which Ed rebuffs, thankfully. Oswald 100% doesn't hurt Ed to hurt him; he's not trying to be mean; he cares about Ed and wants him to be safe. He's just overwhelmed and afraid and he ultimately does not think he's worthy of a relationship with a whole Ed. He lashes out. Oswald's a guy with a lot of trauma; people with trauma sometimes do weird shit in personal relationships. Self-sabotage (and the sabotage of people who love and support you) is not outside of the realm of possibility. He's not trying to be an ass, but he is being hurtful.

He's scared, but he's NOT scared of losing his life, he's scared of losing ED.

That... was a revelation to me. Suddenly everything made sense:

THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE! THAT EXPLAINS WHY HE'S EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE AT THE DOCKS! Yes, GOD, that's EXACTLY what he does, the whole time, he wants to be NEEDED, he wants to bind Ed to him through FEAR which is NOT healthy! He FORCES Ed to pull the trigger in doing so. And this DOES mean that Oswald is not stable enough IN HIMSELF, he is not secure enough IN HIMSELF to handle a relationship right now!

My literal, verbatim reaction there ^^;

It explains... so much, it did for me anyway. Why Oswald hasn’t accepted any of Ed’s emotions, even though he’s explicitly declaring them. Why Oswald has been acting scared and desperate, but never moved to save his own life. It wasn’t his life at all he was worried about, it didn’t even occur to him. The thing that scared him... was losing Ed.

And the hilarious, ironic thing is we were told this. When Babs walks in to explain to Ed why his life is terrible, she literally says, “But Ozzie saw you being taken away from him by that bookish vixen.” That fear and jealousy doesn’t stop being real after Isabella’s dead. It extends forward, until now. Oswald continues to operate off the fear that Ed will leave him, that’s why he rejects all of Ed’s decisions that in any way don’t match his own, especially the moves for independence. That’s why Oswald tries to trap him again here. And yes it is motivated by a deep and profound desire to have Ed in his life, which can BECOME love... but isn’t love. Because it denies autonomy. Because it does not accept the choices of your partner. And love does not exist without acceptance. Love is sacrifice. Love is also risk. Oswald has to learn that first, how to accept risk. How to trust and respect Ed.

So... again, I want to apologize, deeply, to Robin who said this from the beginning because he knew. He saw that Oswald didn’t respect Ed, hasn’t learned how to yet. Oswald experiences affection, certainly, he is generous and kind and sweet, but he fails at the fundamentals of any relationship, platonic, romantic, any. Trust and Respect. You can’t have anything else before you have that, much less something as complex, tenuous, and difficult as love. But Oswald is also learning. He’s made the first step, he’s realized not everything can be the way he wants it. Sometimes he has to sacrifice. But now he has to work on seeing Ed as an equal and accepting that love is not about needing each other, but choosing each other. Accepting that Ed is a fully formed and functional human being who is capable of making his own decisions. And there is SO MUCH risk embedded in that. And Oswald’s fear and self-loathing prevents him for accepting it.

And, for the record, you have to accept that before you can accept someone loving you too. Ironically, neither he nor Ed can accept being loved by someone else ^^; They just responded to it in DRASTICALLY different ways. But, even if Ed could and did right now, Oswald would never really internalize it and it would rift the relationship even worse than it is currently frayed.

It may not look great that Ed’s shot Oswald, but Ed has leveled the playing field, or wiped the board. Because he put his foot down, he proved that his decisions have consequences and Oswald can’t just ignore them anymore. He has created the opportunity for them to imagine each other as equals, because Ed is guilty to of imagining not only himself as lesser, but Oswald as greater. They both need to accept Ed’s autonomy and everything that that means. If they can do that, I have every hope and desire that they should be together and work seamlessly to terrorize Gotham.

P. S. Consider this scene:

“I gave you a job!” “I gave you everything!”

ANOTHER person Oswald depended on. ANOTHER person Oswald took, and took, and took from. ANOTHER person Oswald REFUSES to give credit to.

And Ed DID, in PAINFUL, LITERAL ways, give him... everything. That's kinda horrific foreshadowing for what will happen to Ed, since he's taking Butch's place. I thought of that earlier and I... I need to lay down now. Oh. Oh that hurt.

[imperialdramons]

Things I personally can’t stand in fics and writing in general. LONG rant, so stick with me people. This is a long overdue list that’s been in my drafts for ages.) VERY SUBJECTIVE in case that wasn’t obvious from the first sentence lmao. 1) Characters shipping the otp mentioned. I already like said OTP otherwise I wouldn’t be reading this fic. You don’t have to sell me on the concept of these characters dating, again, it’s why I’m reading the fic. You also don’t have to make characters ship them because, again, that’s what you have friends for- you talk to each other about what you like about the ship rather than sit by as a bystander while two other people go on talking about why they like said ship without allowing you to contribute a word. This is what we have social media for- conversation and opinions. 

I really despise when everyone in a fic suddenly decides “these characters ought to date yes they’re soul mates” almost as if they’re part of a hive-mind when this is the most unrealistic thing to expect when you put two characters in a room full of different people. Trust me, most people would be very uninterested in other people’s love life. The most you would get would be a few close friends making gags (but again- you don’t have to sell ME on the concept of the characters dating. I fail to see both the charm and the point of this) If you’re going for realism, this isn’t where you’ll find it. If you’re going for a joke, I fail to see the humor in it. If you’re planning to make me resent a otp I normally would love by literally forcing me to read opinions of people I don’t even know- you brought your A-game pumpkin, and you succeeded. I often get the impression characters that ship the fic’s otp are trying to either parody what I feel about the characters, or tell me how to feel about the characters, and neither of these leave a good impression. Is the point of this stunt to make the characters feel awkward? There’s many different scenarios you could put them into that could make them feel equally as awkward and give more rewarding results- especially since the fics i’ve read including this have had the characters react very little to others “shipping” them- it kind of just goes on in the background (why? if there is no point to it, why include it? again, it feels like you’re trying to sell me something i’ve already bought). Is it written so often bc there’s some satisfying factor in knowing everyone agrees with you both inside and outside the fic? Oh. I think we’ve reached the reason this is so popular in fics. Score 1+ for the hive mind!

2) Convenient stupidity. When a character acts in a way to either mislead or derail the plot from its actual purpose without getting punished for their stupidity or given a chance to redeem themselves. It’s such a time-waster, and often causes the plot to regress and for the characters to go through the same motions again. It’s not a deal-breaker, but it’s a real joykill to have to read about the characters trying to fix a problem that could easily have been avoided had the character just not acted stupid when it seemed convenient to drag things out further.

3) PLEASE DO NOT COPY SITCOM JOKES FROM SHOWS LIKE SEINFELD AND THE BIG BANG THEORY I WILL LITERALLY FLIP MY LID. It doesn’t take a trained eye to notice when a joke doesn’t fit the phrasing of a character. Some lines from popular sitcoms work with every character because they’re so generic, but sometimes the lines sound absolutely out of character when they come from a character who feels like they’re being held at gunpoint just to hammer in a joke or two. I have seen characters butchered momentarily just to hammer in a few jokes that immediately lose their humor, mainly because the jokes are not funny if I can tell someone is forcing the words into the character’s mouth. It doesn’t sound like anything they’d actually say, but something someone else wants them to say. It isn’t a deal-breaker, but it really takes me out of the fic. There was one fic that actually had me dig through my bad 90′s sitcom archive to find 3 shows with the exact same joke as said fic. Do you know how disturbing it is to read a fic and suddenly see Jerry Seinfeld’s face pop up in your mind like a jump scare? It’s terrifying.

4) I can’t stand when a fic has all the depression tags, all the dark and tragic story tropes, but let’s throw in a joke in every third paragraph despite talking about a dark subject- let’s even ruin the most serious moments with a joke because hey jokes are supposed to break tension right. Let’s not care if it looks out of place or forced, we have to have a joke dammnit. Yes, humor is often used to lighten up the mood when things get too serious- but you actually have to allow your audience to have a pause for things to remain serious for a while before you can make a joke. A lot of the joke relies on the element of surprise (timing), and the delivery. If you don’t allow us to breathe in and grow accustomed to the serious and dark tone, you won’t be able to make us laugh when you genuinely write something funny. It’s just harder to get into it when there’s so many jokes. Instead of being a dark fic with some nicely paced jokes, it turns into an internal conflict of whether or not you label the fic as a dark humor satire or dark themed fic with a lot of comedy in it that just doesn’t pace well. Very few people can get away with this without making the humor seem completely out of place (but I have actually seen it done), and it takes a huge amount of skill to actually make dark humor work- because when dark humor doesn’t work, it just sounds offensive or insulting. (Dark Humor is often offensive, but what’s offensive has to either have some truth to it, or genuinely be funny to work as dark humor.) Meanwhile, when regular humor doesn’t work, we often either don’t notice the joke, or just shrug at it “yeah it was bad but i’ve read worse” and keep reading. I have seen so many fics write dark themes wrong by making light of a very dark situation and that is all fine and good if you’re writing a comedy that is mocking tragic and dark tropes in the form of a satire. However, this doesn’t work if you want said fic to be “inspirational” or “educational” (or even SERIOUS) about mental illness or disorders. It really just confuses the reader as to what your actual goal is with the fic if you’re both trying to mock the problem, and educate people about the problem. This just goes out to the smartasses that dismiss criticism bc “I has the depression so you are wrong and your opinion is stupid bc you dont have the depression so anything you say is wrong 8D” Please gently fuck off.

5) This might be an unpopular opinion, but I personally rank a fic’s appeal by how well they conduct a premise. You might also say I rank fics by how badly they mess up an easy premise/moral they have to work with and make a simple topic seem very absurd. I don’t care if the premise is simple- if they wrote it well, they deserve props for it. If they wrote a difficult premise and the fic kind of fell apart, I can still give them some props because I can tell there was effort put into trying to make something work. However, when a fic takes an easy premise and completely butchers it, ohhhh boy. It almost becomes something akin to reading my immortal- for shits and giggles- a beautiful trainwreck. However, here’s a fun fact; I don’t hate my immortal, or hellstorm evangelion, and wouldn’t class them as “the worst fics in harry potter and evangelion”. Why? Because they started off with an absurd premise. As soon as I read an absurd premise, I know the fic is going to be absurd. The fic delivers what it promises, and I genuinely can’t flaw it for that. Of course the fics are bad, OOC on top of crazy ideas, but it didn’t really market itself differently or as anything but OOC and crazy- and this is why I also don’t take them seriously- because in a way- they don’t take themselves seriously.

What I do take seriously however are fics that try their hardest to make a point and then fail miserably because they didn’t bother to do even the smallest amount of research- and I really do mean the most minuscule amount of research. I read a fic where a bruise lasted for 2 months. A bruise. Lasted 2 months. If a bruise is big and dark enough after 2 weeks you shouldn’t see a doctor, you should see an exorcist- because that thing needs to be sent to the shadow realm and fast. 2 months? A simple google search would have solved this. I actually didn’t know how long a bruise lasted for, but I took one look at that and shook my head, thinking “No. I really don’t think this is accurate.” but I actually decided to go look it up because “I might be wrong”. I might be nitpicking, but when your fic is trying to go for realism it doesn’t really help that you have these small bits of misinformation that could easily be corrected... One or two won’t kill the mood if the fic is good enough, but if the fic focuses on a subject that involves, oh, I don’t know, doctors/medicine (which i might add- i know near to nothing about) and relies on misinformation that even I can spot?... Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to just skim some reliable sources for relevant information about what you’re writing about. Small aside- I get bothered when people put the word “literally” in front of things they mean to say are “figurative”. I can actually gloss over this most times (i do it too sometimes almost unknowingly), but when someone writes “Literally kicked the door down-” and in the very next sentence, say the door “swung open”- No. That is inaccurate. You can’t just shove “literally” in front of things and not expect it to change meaning. That is literally illiteracy.

6) Nicknames. I really cringe at “Darling” or “Cutie” in fics. Yes, people do this in real life and I’m guilty of it too- but have you ever been that one friend in a friendship circle where you don’t exactly feel as if you belong there and then you’re hearing 2 people call each other "darling” over and over again? Doesn’t that feel even the least bit uncomfortable? I often get that impression when I read fics of two characters going back and forth like this- i feel like the awkward third wheel that’s imposing on their fun. I can handle some pet names, but when they constantly say “darling” and “sweetie” over and over again, I can’t help but to feel as if the characters are losing some of their character in the dialogue (it is actually very corny). Most fics of non-canon ships are already putting characters into situations that are hard to swallow- but nicknames like “darling”? That’s probably an aspect of fics i’ll never be able to handle. I can’t say why I feel this way other than the fact it always feels forced and shoehorned in (unless the character themselves have also used this word multiple times) There are of course the exceptions. The exceptions are the characters who you can actually see say this kind of thing. Ringabel from Bravely Default is an easy example, or say, Cat Noir from Miraculous- but the phrases fit because they align with their character, and aren’t just put there to “be cute” but to be “accurate” to the portrayal. That doesn’t mean “if you dont use pet names for these characters, you’re misrepresenting them”- it just means that these specific characters seem like they might engage in petnames, whereas someone as... hm... let’s say Jotaro from jjba probably wouldn’t do it in a serious manner, and neither would Cyrus from Platinum. Some characters fit the bill and others don’t, and I know this is highly subjective, but to make things simple; the goofy characters are always the ones who I can see use such language seriously or unironically without it feeling out of place.

THERE’S MORE, But I’m tired and this rant has been long long long and I want to go eat eat eat. Maybe later i’ll add a few more in a brief because this kind of went on for a lil too long than necessary.

[devanhadlock]

Last night around 8:25pm in a sleepy village in the stradfordshire moorlands of the United Kindgom I escaped under the cover of night from the old rectory home of a nutty English woman. This is the story of what led up to the moment where I throwing my bags together and kissing my two Italian co-captives farewell before running off into the darkness with just hope enough to light my path out of my personal Stockholm and back to freedom. In coming to the United Kingdom exactly one week ago for my first ever workaway experience I had every expectation to be pleasantly surprised. I now realize I had totally imagined being taken into some warm embryonic mist of the motherland of some of my ancestors. That this great island of Avalon would bless me with some magical experience of coming home. I imagined warm English breakfasts and naps on the backs of giant shire horses as they walked through the crisp layers of mist that flow across this ancient land like rivers of ghosts lit by the glow of their fairy souls. I did not imagine I’d be starving, for company and for food, and that I’d risk frostbite on my toes each time I awoke and ventured out of my stone room to take a piss in the middle of the night. I didn’t imagine feeling so much anxiety all the time at the prospect of our host showing up or of having to spend even one more day there. Anyway I got the fuck out. As I sit here in my makeshift bed on the ground of the single most filthy apartment I have EVER seen but under the warm hospitable blanket of one of the sweetest gentlemen I’ve ever met I wonder and I write. With itchy eyes and sputtering coughs as I suck in the balls of dog hair that float about in lieu of fairies and friendly ghost orbs I listen to Taveners beautiful choral piece that was written and played at Princes Dianna’s funeral “Alleluia. May Flights of Angels Sing Thee to Thy Rest”. A more perfect score of my momentary reprieve doeth not exist and I make solemn my promise to record henceforth the soul of some of my journey. How to make sense of this already harried and frenetic tale. Going back one week ago when I arrived to the Airport in Salt Lake City, Utah. Carrying a rare methuselah bottle of hope I dug up in the vintage cellar of my soul sometime in the recent past and maybe two gallon size bags stuffed with vitamins and herbal supplements I found my way to the security line. A look of stern and stubborn determination etched onto my face I walked in the broken procession towards the X-ray death machine. Of course I was pulled aside and asked about the 5 thousand pills of various size and color I had on me but it was the abundance of skin care products that ended up being the real problem. Apparently more that a one quart bag of properly labeled and sized liquid toiletries is too much. If TSA isn’t a sure sign of how backwards we got everything in the world right now I don’t know what is. Anyway my choice was to toss my highly valuable products and basically let my face melt into its true age over the next couple weeks or check on a bag. Something I really didn’t want to do but was basically forced at gunpoint. Getting in the air for my grand adventure wasn’t all cupcakes and rainbows. In my rush to salvage my precious pills and toiletries by checking them I didn’t clarify that I was going to London after JFK so my bag would have to be retrieved and checked again before boarding the next plane. I stress about these sorts of things so was having all sorts of physical symptoms of major anxiety for that flight. Thankfully two Jet Blue stewardesses were there to sooth my soul and guide me through what I’d have to do to get my bag and such. After many hours I made it to London where my host was graciously waiting to pick me up and take me home with her. My first impression wasn’t so bad and I was blissfully hopeful that my journey was off to all the right outcomes. Quickly though things changed when upon arrival I found two other workawayers there with looks of foreboding secrets written all over their faces. Still I went to bed that first night in the freezing cold 200 year old home all smiles and dreamy imaginings. That next day while cleaning out farm sheds and scrubbing dog shit off the pavement with brooms and washing it away with dozens of hand filled buckets of water all in the bitter wet cold wind I got to question these girls and gather information. They too had been pulled in by the quick responses from this host, the magical photos of her old world home and beautiful animals and perfect ratings from past workawayers. They were miserable and had fully regretted there coming to stay. They told me to find a plan B! Unlike most hosts who provide home cooked meals on all the days you work this lady eats like an old spinster bird by herself high up in her room above all of us and stocked the fridges and freezers with expired food she bought at great discounts according to the tags she left on all of them. Her moments of interaction overly chirpy and insanely expressive barely covering like a thin veil the volatility and social strain underneath. She did her best and I’ve edited this post greatly over the last two days to be sure that I could commit to whatever level of drama I was caught up in within myself, as regularly happens. Alas I toned it down. Still though the choice to leave for me came like a burst of lightening while sitting in my room in front of a floor heater mulling over the importance of preserving ones sanity. Upon finding the last bus to be coming through that sleepy village in only 30 minutes I rapidly set about preparing and planning my escape. Which included a serious text to my new online friend cashing in on his offer to provide sanctuary should this sort of moment arrive. Our host arrived just then which made my escape even harder but I made my way down the dark stone staircase with all of my bags while my Italian girlfriends distracted her in the kitchen. I was determined to not spend not one more night where I felt so uneasy, depressed and hungry. I slipped on the stairs and bruised my arm catching myself on the hard stone. Thinking for a moment of all the things I’d like to clean up or get done before I leave like any good Guest but decided instead to not be sabotaged. My heart beating in my chest and nervous system in flight I had flashbacks of my years of delinquency and devious behavior in my youth where my brain not fully developed basically left me at the mercy to more crude forms of navigation. Not always a bad thing mind you! It was exhilarating and I felt alive! Our host could appear in my path at any moment or scream out like a siren behind me like all the heads of Momba do in “Return to Oz” when Dorothy has been discovered as an intruder in the closet of the mad witch queen and escaping from her palatial prison. Anyway I got away, leaving only a simple note on my bed saying goodbye and thank you. I’m rather pleased time left me only enough time for succinct writings. It felt more elegant somehow. Fast forward two hours later and I’m at another stranger’s house on Stoke on Trent expect this time the feeling is of instant warmth. I was given warm food and made generous offers of where I might sleep and kept up almost all night by fun and interesting conversation. The apartment turned out to be the filthiest apartment I’ve perhaps personally ever seen but inspired by such genuine warmth and hospitality from someone who only knew me for three days and online I felt more that excited to get to work doing something I’m brilliant at. Cleaning and organizing. Runs in my blood. So that’s what I did for ten hours today. Cleaned half of this place up to a mint shine better than when he moved in. That’s what he said anyway. Also as a side not his dog is handsome and brilliant and all the confirmation I needed that I was in the right place! My hope in humanity is restored and my opinion of this country has gone from negative 2 to a positive 8 out of 10. That’s the power of true hospitality and perhaps a dose of saying yes to thoughtless but pivotal action. Till next time