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littleladymab · 2 years

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@qt-kt and i have been lost in kalluzeb hell so i decided to write some little canon-compliant vignettes to feed us only i've lost steam half-way through because i need to return to things with Plot™ so enjoy the ones i have written i might eventually return with the second half.

Edit to say if you're still liking and reblogging this one please go dig a little further and find the full version up on AO3, get all the goods with a little extra leg work. If i remember to update this post again I'll include a link because I'm on mobile rn but please go read the finished thing that doesn't have the typos and is also, you know, finished.

+++

"You're doing that thing again," Zeb says, his voice cutting in through the silence that had settled in around him.

"What thing?" Kallus asks, annoyed at himself. He hadn't even heard Zeb approaching.

Instead of a proper answer, Zeb gestures a clawed hand at Kallus' face -- swirling it absently in the air like he means to indicate a general miasma than a specific problem. "That thing with your face."

Kallus frowns and Zeb says, "Ah, you're making it worse."

"This is just my face."

"It's your gloomy face. Your Imperial face."

"This is just my face," Kallus repeats. "Just because I was one of the few Imperials you knew who didn't hide behind a full helmet doesn't mean that it's an Imperial face."

Zeb shrugs as he drops onto the bench beside Kallus. Doesn't ask if he can; simply does. A gesture of familiarity that Zeb insists he's earned after Atollon (and Lothal and Skystrike and Bahryn), but he's still a stranger to. "You don't make it all the time. Just when you're in a mood."

So Kallus tries a different tactic. "What makes it different?"

The Lasat leans in close and studies him, looking for the line that divides Kallus Imperial face from this mysterious second one. "This one is emptier," he says with a low voice like he's telling a secret. "You tend to make it when you're alone or troubled. When you think too hard."

How long must you have looked at me to figure that out? Kallus wants to ask but doesn't. It's a bridge he's not willing to cross -- even after Atollon (and Lothal and Skystrike and Bahryn). "The old me has been dumped out when I defected," Kallus answers instead. "There's a lot of me to fill back up, but I guess I haven't really figured out the man I want to be yet." It's more honest an answer than he originally wanted to give and any attempt at turning it into a joke failed the moment he opened his mouth.

It makes Zeb laugh, though. Loud and full-bodied as he throws his head back with the force of it. An overwhelming outpouring of emotion that Kallus wonders if he'll ever be brave enough to experience.

Instead he soaks up the sound. Drinks it in and lets it start to fill the hollow empty corners of himself that still cling to that Imperial façade.

+++

This is how he falls in love, he realizes -- with the rebellion, with this new life, with Zeb. He is a jug, emptied and wanting, slowly filled to the brim. By the time Kallus realizes, it's too late and the contents are already overflowing.

+++

It was always nothing until, suddenly, too late, it was something.

+++

"Everyone still calls you Kallus," Zeb remarks one day as they help organize crates of supplies.

He shrugs. "I still call myself Kallus."

Zeb regards him curiously. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why not use your name?"

He furrows his brow and takes a moment to stretch his back. "My name is Kallus."

Zeb seems frustrated by this response, which doesn't really make sense. He has no reason to be so invested in what people call Kallus. "No more than my name is Orrelios. It's just weird that you're content with everyone calling you by your last name."

Kallus shrugs again. "Truthfully?" he asks as he reaches for the next stack of crates.

"Preferably."

"I've long since stopped thinking of myself as Alexsandr. As long as I've been a part of the Empire, I've always been Kallus. Or I've been ISB 021, or Fulcrum. Commander. Agent. Rebel." From the corner of his eye, he can see that Zeb has stopped moving and is watching him intently. "I haven't been Alexsandr since I enlisted so… A long time now," he finishes with a huff of laughter.

Zeb makes a grumble that might be in agreement, might be to the contrary, but says nothing.

It's not until they're finished with the crates that Zeb finally asks, "Then can I call you Alexs?"

Kallus stops, stares, tries to wrap his head around the question. "Have you been thinking about that this whole time?" It's the only response he can manage.

"Maybe," Zeb answers awkwardly as he rubs the back of his head and refuses to meet Kallus' gaze. "It just, I dunno. Seems unfair? Your name is a part of you, so why not reclaim it?"

Why not? he thinks in a sudden reckless rush. Why not remake himself now that he's cast off the Imperial trappings?

The thought is weirdly terrifying. Who is he, if not himself? He knows Kallus, the limits and capabilities of that man. He doesn't know Alexs.

"You can," he says slowly. "Though I may not answer to it. Not until I get used to it."

"A work in progress," Zeb agrees, cuffing him on the shoulder.

Yes, that sounds right. Not broken, just emptied. A work in progress, waiting to be filled.

+++

It was always nothing until, suddenly, too late, it was something.

+++

Kallus looks from the packet of freeze-dried vegetables to Zeb. "You're serious?"

Zeb takes the packet with a huff. "Of course I am."

"You know how to cook?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Agent." He taps Kallus square between the eyes with the packet -- making him scrunch up his nose. "There's a lot of things about me you don't know."

Kallus opens his mouth prepared to ask before he realizes he doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know where he's allowed to cross. As always he's too aware of his role in Zeb's past. That there's a huge chunk of time ripped away in the after-effects of war and eradication. "What is your favorite thing to cook?"

"Stew. A recipe I learned from my uncle. I've never been able to get it right because there's some spice and a root that were native to Lasan that I don't have access to anymore, but I enjoy the challenge of trying to find a replacement." Zeb answers without hesitation, without any sort of insinuation. Perhaps he forgot who he was talking to. "Most of the time though I just like to find new ways to make basic rations taste better. Very rarely do I get to make an actual dinner like this."

"Ah, rations. I'll have you know I was very excited to finally not be eating the standard Imperial fare that even these basic rations were oddly delicious."

Zeb laughs -- not the full-chested guffaw he does, but a softer, fonder chuckle. The one he only gives when its just the two of them, caught by surprise by the suddenness of the comment whenever Kallus lets slip something new. "Then you're staying for dinner."

Everything goes hot and cold inside Kallus all at once, though he's careful to keep the reaction from his face. "I can't."

"Yeah, you can. You just don't want to."

Kallus opens his mouth only to find that once again he's at a loss for words. "I shouldn't," he amends. Does he want to? That's a question he doesn't give himself a chance to consider. "I… have work to do."

Zeb doesn't look up from the pan that he's mixing the vegetables on. The Ghost doesn't have a large kitchen, but its dwarfed even further by the side of the Lasat delicately using a pair of long, thin sticks to stir. "Alright. Help until you have to leave."

There's plenty that Kallus can respond to for that. A hundred little quips come to mind, but he dismisses them as he moves to the sink to wash his hands. He moves up to the counter alongside Zeb, taking up the indicated knife and dicing the meat. It's been ages since he's done any sort of food prep. Not since he left home. The Empire always provided.

The shapes he makes are lopsided and uneven and more than once he comes close to slicing the tip of his finger. But he's determined to see the task through, even when Zeb does that chuckle again which means he spares a moment to watch.

"Don't laugh," Kallus says and nudges Zeb with his elbow.

"I should have known you weren't perfect," Zeb answers.

This startles a laugh of disbelief out of Kallus. "Oh, no. No, there's your first problem. Why would you ever think that?"

"A trick of the light." Zeb takes the cutting board from Kallus' frozen hands as if he has no idea the implication his words have. "Fill that up with water, will you?" he asks, jutting his chin at the pot in question.

Kallus takes it wordlessly from the stovetop and steps away to the sink.

This is why he can't stay. He forgets who he is. The domesticity is nearly overwhelming in a time and place where he can't afford it. Soon, Kanan and Ezra will be back from their training. Hera will return from the command center. Sabine will emerge from the depths of the base, covered in paint. They will be the family that Kallus used to hunt -- and Zeb has the gall to joke that, in the right light, he might have thought Kallus was perfect.

"I have to go," Kallus says, setting the pot back on the burner. He doesn't look at Zeb as he dries his hands off on his pants and turns for his jacket.

There's a grumble of an unasked question from the Lasat, but in the end he doesn't say anything.

Except that as Kallus moves to slip past him, Zeb holds out a hand with a ration bar.

He looks up, brow quirked skeptically.

"Since you like them so much that you're not going to stay for dinner," Zeb explains, and taps Kallus on the forehead directly between the eyes. "Next time, consider staying?"

Kallus can't help the smirk and plucks the ration bar free only to shove it back against Zeb's chest. "Next time, I'll consider it."

Zeb's answering grin is as warm as his hand as he catches Kallus' fingers and the bar before they can pull away. He doesn't say anything as he holds on for an unsteady thump thump thump of Kallus' pulse.

The touch withdraws and Kallus returns to himself only changed in some small way that he can't quite identify.

+++

Zeb holds the hat up in his hands like it has personally offended him. "We're supposed to go in disguise."

"That is generally the first step of not being caught immediately, yes," Kallus agrees.

Zeb waves the hat around in the space between them. "This thing is so ugly that I think it will draw more attention to us."

Kallus takes the thing from Zeb, holding it between both hands to study it. "I don't know, I saw plenty of Lothal citizens wearing these when I was stationed there." He shakes it out and reaches up to pull it on to Zeb's head.

There's a grunt of surprise from the Lasat as the hat doesn't quite fit over his head correctly, and Kallus laughs as he tries to fix it. "Stop flinching," he scolds and lifts up one of the flaps to free the chin strap trapped beneath it.

"I feel like a bantha with blinders on."

"Nonsense." Kallus presses a knuckle to the underside of Zeb's chin, forcing him to lift his head so Kallus can buckle the strap beneath it. He takes a step back to see the image in full and can barely restrain the snort of laughter. "You look…"

"Ridiculous." Zeb attempts to claw off the hat, forgetting that its fastened beneath his chin, and ends up getting tangled in it.

"I was going to offer dignified to be nice, but you're making it real difficult right now."

"Oh," Zeb says from the depths of the hat before finally emerging -- fur ruffled and ears flicking in suppressed amusement. "You were trying to be nice. That would be a first."

From the hold, out of sight from where they're tucked away in one of the corridors, Kallus can hear Ezra and Vizago. They don't have much time before he'll join Rex in the cockpit and the others will leave.

The crew of the Ghost, leaving it behind in the hands of the only two people willing to volunteer for this mission. Two people who will be sitting by uselessly, unable to help if anything should go wrong.

Zeb takes the hat from Kallus' hands and shoves it into a pocket of his jumpsuit. "Alexs."

It's been almost a year of trying to get used to that name, and he still has a hard time. He looks up to meet Zeb's gaze. "Hm?"

"We'll be alright. We always are."

Kallus could play along, comment how he knows just how resilient the Spectres are. But instead he says, "You don't know that."

"We kicked your ass on more than one occasion."

"I'm not the biggest threat anymore." Kallus breathes in deep, shoulders heaving with the sigh. "Not that you'll listen to anything I have to say."

Zeb steps closer -- a subtle shuffle to close the distance between them. "Well, what do you have to say?"

Kallus focuses on the hum of the ship beneath his feet, of the warmth radiating off of Zeb, of the unspoken challenge in his eyes. He straightens his posture a degree and says, "I'm looking forward to being in command of the Ghost while Hera is planetside."

Zeb stares at him in stunned silence before breaking down into laughter. "Alright, alright," he concedes. "I won't tell her that you said that."

"No, do, that will inspire her to be even more efficient than she normally is."

"You love to make things difficult."

"I live for it," Kallus agrees, though he allows the small smile. He breaks the eye contact when he hears the sound of the puffer pigs being disturbed. "I should go. Let you finish getting ready."

Zeb catches onto his forearm before he can move too far away. "Just got one thing left," he says and leans down to kiss Kallus.

It's short, over too quickly for him to fully realize and respond. He stares at Zeb in stunned silence.

"For good luck," Zeb says as if that explains anything.

"Be careful," Kallus blurts out. The only thing he can think to say that truly encompasses the storm of emotions suddenly raging inside of him. "Come back safe."

Zeb's surprise melts into a smile that is equal parts fond and reckless. "I'll see you later, Agent."

They turn away at the same time -- Kallus towards the cockpit and Zeb towards the storage. He's a soldier with no time to play at being something new or different but for the first time in a long time Kallus thinks he might be willing to try at being Alexs again.

+++

Kallus understands the exact cost demanded by the Empire in order to ensure freedom. He just never expected to feel it so closely. Perhaps that's because he never expected to be free of the Empire himself every other time he calculated the toll.

It was always a price paid by others until Lothal.

He had thought the Ghost crew invincible -- after all, they had beat him more than once. They faced Vader and Thrawn and the might of the Empire and survived. Lothal reminds Kallus that there's a difference between survival and victory.

They survived Atollon, they were victorious over Lothal.

They lost Kanan and Ezra but they won a planet.

+++

Hera lands the Ghost on the outskirts of the city. Ketsu takes Sabine by the hand and pulls her out of the ship -- into the throng of people that spill through the streets. Rex and Azadi go to Hera, speaking to her in low voices that Kallus doesn't want to intrude on.

So he follows after Zeb. Down into the hold where there are boxes of spare medical supplies mixed in with munitions and food. They work in silence activating the repulsor functions and lead a small train of crates towards the city's edge.

People spot them and run to help and Kallus finds the mindless task of distributing the supplies easier than thinking about what happened. Focus on next steps instead of past ones.

When the first batch has been sent off, he turns to go prepare round two -- only to find Zeb standing a few paces away with eyes staring back in the direction of the old communication's tower. The one he coopted for his Fulcrum transmissions.

Ezra's tower.

Kallus steps up beside Zeb and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

The Lasat doesn't jump, but his ears twitch at the sound. "Hmm?"

It would be incredibly stupid to ask how are you. Kallus can read the answer plain as day. So instead he asks, "How is your foot?"

"My foot?" Zeb seems to come out of his reverie enough to be confused, which is a bit of an improvement. He looks down at the foot in question, toes wriggling in the shortgrass and dirt. One has a red welt as a sign of a minor abrasion but otherwise isn't that bad. Just a promise of a bruise. "It's fine."

"Let me look at it."

"I don't need medical attention," Zeb says, the words almost coming out as a growl. "There's others that--"

"You flung yourself into the inner workings of a shield generator to fight an assassin. Just let me check you over, okay?" Kallus grabs Zeb by the elbow in a hold he's used on unruly troopers before and drags him back to the ramp.

By now, others have taken over the job of unloading the food and medical supplies so Kallus takes two of the unused munitions crates and sets them up to the side of the ramp.

"Sit," he orders, and Zeb does. "Leg."

With a sigh Zeb sticks out the leg and Kallus pulls it into his lap to investigate.

They've had no time to talk since Kallus returned to Lothal. He hasn't been able to check in on any of them and the only one he's managed to hold onto has been Zeb. Hera and Sabine will be coping in their own way but Kallus needs to at least feel like he's helping somehow.

"Alexs."

He doesn't respond, busying himself with a closer inspection of the injury. It is as minor as he thought, not even the potential for scarring. He still takes the time to apply antiseptic and wraps a bandage around the injury.

"Alexs."

Kallus pauses, hands settling on Zeb's knee. He doesn't lift his head. "I feel like such a fucking hypocrite," he eventually says as the silence continues to drag out between them, neither certain how to break it. "I worked for years to try and bring you down. And now here I am mourning the loss of two soldiers."

Zeb shuffles a bit on his crate but doesn't pull his leg away. "A lot has happened between then and now. They were more than soldiers, they were your friends."

Hardly, Kallus doesn't say. "They were your family."

"Yeah…" Zeb says, and Kallus winces at the sheer exhaustion in the single word. "Yeah, they were."

A dry laugh finally works its way out of Kallus. "Well at least I can save a little face knowing that not even Thrawn and Pryce could take you down so I don't feel like I did such a bad job failing to secure you all."

Zeb chuckles. "If we were going to go, it would always be at our own terms."

"And you've won."

"We've won." There's an emphasis on the word that brings Kallus into the fold, that reminds him he's no longer an Imperial.

Kallus exhales and lowers his head -- doubling over until he presses his forehead to Zeb's knee. Words jumble together in his thoughts but nothing feels right. Everything is too pithy or feel too selfish or hollow.

Zeb's hand lands on the back of his head, warm and comforting, and Kallus feels the tension train from his shoulders. The clawed fingers card through his hair as both of them let the moment pass in silence.

There are things to be said but they can wait.

For now, they can breathe.

#star wars #rebels #star wars rebels #kalluzeb #a lil miss fic #lil miss writings #okay NOW i disappear from the fanfic scene #at least until I finish one of these two other projects

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authorbashields · 2 years

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#IFTTT #Author B. A. Shields Official Website

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nientedenada · 2 years

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Skyrim Anniversary Edition Book Review: The Crimson Dirks is actually really good!

Originally posted on r/teslore.

The majority of the texts added to the Skyrim Anniversary Edition are very functional bits to get you through your quests to pick up your new suit of armour, weapon, or fish variety. I had absolutely no expectations for a good book to be among the additions. And yet, a few paragraphs into The Crimson Dirks, I knew I'd found one.

The Crimson Dirks is the tale of the rise and fall of a bunch of bandits in Cyrodiil. It goes along with Kris Takahashi's Alternative Armors, and you can find and fight a lot of the named bandits to get the armor. But the story is about their life before they separated and hid in Skyrim, and it's so much fun! It's not perfect. I spotted a lot of typos and it definitely needed a copy-editor, but that's nothing new in TES books.

However, it's fresh, funny, interesting, and explores everyday life in Fourth Era Tamriel in a way I haven’t seen before. Let me quote some choice passages to encourage you to read it yourselves.

A very Dunmer form of charity:

The Dunmer had no real name to speak of. Some speculated he was once a noble, having abandoned his titles and claims for a new one. Others believed he was with the Morag Tong, assassins having little use for their birth name. Tyra, meanwhile, had first met the brigand as a child begging in the streets. The Dark Elf had fixed his blood red eyes upon this orphan girl, ashen and starved, and deigned to fill her alms bowl.

When she looked down, she found neither food nor gold, but a knife.

"This isn't a gift, little netch," the Dunmer cautioned, throat scarred with ash, "your first score belongs to me."

Some lore on the Thalmor in Elsweyr, delivered in a very memorable fashion.

"Well, the Clan Mothers are allies of the Dominion. Their eyes are all-seeing, and their punishments are known to all who hear the screams."

"And what do you think about that, furball?" Erwan interrupted, eyes focused on the Khajiit, "are you a fan of the Dominion? Do you have paintings at home of Lady Arannelya in fancy lace?"

"Khajiit does not care for politics," he said, raising the pot, "He is sorry to have brought it up."

A most embarrassing encounter for a Thalmor Justiciar

A Thalmor Justiciar, flanked by two guards, had dragged the Nord butcher from his stall, accusing him Talos worship.

The Justiciar tore open the butcher's tunic, but found only an Amulet of Mara. The butcher replied with a toothy grin, asking the Thalmor if she was spoken for. The Justiciar, digusted, tossed the butcher into his stall before returning to her patrol.

Lots of general hilarity

"I only lost because you distracted me," barked Antonius, "with that inhaling and exhaling thing you do with your nose."

"Do you mean breathing?" asked Edward.

"Yes, that."

And

"The trail ends here," Aesrael said, motioning to the trunk of the looming oak.

"Maybe the tree ate him," quipped the Bosmer, his Argonian partner Pale-Eyes trailing behind him.

"You jest, Ehlhiel," replied Pale-Eyes, "but in this one's village, there is a story of a Hist, corrupted by magic, that would kidnap and devour the hatchlings."

"Okay, I have to ask," the Bosmer replied, "Why are there so many stories about monsters that eat children? Are parents so inept they have to constantly frighten their young into behaving, or are children really that delicious?"

"I feel like as a Bosmer," countered the Argonian, "you would know better than I."

There’s a meandering fun plot involving framing the Thalmor, acquiring a cursed ring, messing with the Penitus Oculatus, with a cast of eccentric characters who deserved better than to mostly end up dead in Alternative Armors quests. But once you’ve read their story, you can go on a detective trip around Skyrim figuring out what happened to the characters after the story ends.

#tes lore #niente lore

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zutaraplatter · 4 years

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Avatar: The Last Airbender Critique

There are already a million of posts like this one, and I might be saying things that’ve already been said a million times but I’ve recently become reheated about the ATLA ending and wanted to let it out -_- No one asked, this is true, and this may or may not be a way to stall from this final project I still have to complete, but here’s 10 things I didn't like and/or would change about the show that likely shouldn’t need changing because they should have been done in the first place.

1. Katara should have apologized to Sokka after TSR

It should have happened and it didn't. In my canon-avoiding mind, Katara and Sokka have a heartfelt conversation where she apologizes for the awful things she said, Sokka says he forgives her and he's sorry if he wasn't as there for her as much as he should have been, which he follows up with "but I'm happy you listened to Aang and took his advice," leading into my next point

2. Katara should have said that not killing Yon Rha was her choice

And thats why it was the right one. Not because Aang already said it was wrong. No no. It was the right choice because that's what she chose. I love my mom to death and can't imagine losing her in any way, let alone the way Katara did. And I can't say for sure that if I was in her shoes that I know what I would have done f that yes I do I would have killed that motherfucker. But I also know that if Katara decided not to kill him, then that was one of two correct choices because they were Katara's choices to make. Not Aang's or anyone else's and this should have been clarified. I know it's a kids show but I said what I said. Next point.

3. Katara should have said more after telling Aang she was unsure at the Ember Island Players

Katara hasn't had any trouble saying how she feels, especially when it comes to helping others and making them feel better, whether she was right or wrong. But she holds back or overly softens blows and seems to even shrivel up at times when it comes to Aang. And me no likey. I had a boyfriend who I adored and admired and just genuinely looked up to. I'm also a shy and anxious person who hates confrontation, but because I loved him, I never refrained from telling him when he was wrong. I might have been a little shaky about it but I did it tho because when you want to be with someone you walk through the grass and stomp through the mud. And I personally feel like either in that moment or later on in an added scene that Katara should have voiced to Aang how unheard and disrespected she felt about his words before TSR and his actions on the balcony. I hate being uncomfortable and my secondhand embarrassment is toxic but I would love to see a scene of this. I always imagined Katara saying stuff like "But I'm not you Aang, and I'm not an Air Nomad," or "Zuko could understand why I needed to go, and I'd hoped you would too," or...I'm out of ideas but you get the idea. And you know what, I know I'm a hard Zutara shipper, but them having this conversation would honestly make me respect their relationship a whole lot more should it be believably written to end on a good note (I don't see how it could be but hey I'm an open minded person and I did think they were cute together once upon a time). Basically, all I'm saying is that Katara is no small voice and she should have been written that way when with Aang. Boyfriends can make you shy but should never make you weak. Period. Next point.

4. No rock! ONLY GROWTH!!!!!!!!!!!

I still squint my eyes whenever I remember that rock that unblocked Aang's chakra. What even was that? The laziest writing possible in my opinion. That's what. And Aang deserved better. What should have happened should have been that Aang started to lose to Ozai. And then as Ozai's about to deliver the finishing blow, Aang has flashbacks of everyone he's trying to save and honor, ending with a very prominent flashback of Katara with the guru's disembodied voice reminding Aang to let go of his attachments to become all he needs to be...then BOOM! Baby boy is back on his feet, chakra unblocked, he kicks Ozai's ass, I'm crying hysterically on the floor, as are the rest of us, and he wins. Then at the end of the series, instead of a kiss, he gives Katara an apology. She accepts, everyone else comes to join them on the balcony, cinematic group hug, camera pan into the sun. I don't know lol. Basically what I'm saying is that Aang did not deserve some deus ex machina. He deserved to grow and become his best self like everyone else got to.

5. Aang should have heard differently in The Storm

Katara is a very fate-minded person and this is when I saw potential for her to become a toxic character in regards to Aang. When he admits that he ran away from home 100 years ago, Katara tells him that that was basically a good thing because he was meant to be here and now. Like...no? What Aang did, though understandable for someone so young, was still wrong. Yes he would have maybe been killed but I'm like 10000000% sure they had a plan to protect and evacuate the literal avatar. And what was technically "meant to be" was a new avatar. But hey, what's done is done and kicking Aang while he's down is a no-no in this household. But that doesn't change the fact that Aang needed and deserved honesty. Maybe the fisherman could have said this, I don't know, but I feel like Aang should have been told by someone that although running away was wrong, it's a blessing he and Appa were able to survive and be able to help save the world now with his amazing friends found-family. Maybe this is too harsh, and maybe even outright wrong, but I felt like Aang deserved a truer answer here to support and comfort him.

6. MAILEE!!!!

Do I even need to go into detail?

7. Spiritual sigh*

Don't make me go into detail -_- I will say though that although Aang and Katara are both amazing individuals capable of earth shattering things, they were not a healthy fit for one another. This is evident in the original series and especially in their children from LOK. They both deserved the best but better than one another.

8. ZUTARAAAAAAA

This is a Zutara blog you KNEW this was coming, as it should. There's just too much. There's too damn much. I would give a real paragraph to this too, but, I mean, there's already so much proving that this was the pair. Fics, metas, rants, this site. Scroll through my blog or any of the ATLA related blogs I follow and...dude. These two were meant to be together and I'll mourn the narrative brilliance WASTED for no good reason every day for the rest of my life. No reason these two shouldn't be married with three kids. sob. I will take this part to say thank you to the amazing fic writers that gave Katara, Zuko, Mai, and Aang what they deserved that the writers didn't have the guts to give them themselves. Next point tho.

9. AANG AND ONJI

Good God almighty. Why not this? WHY NOT THIS? I'm putting on my bullet proof vest and I'm going to say this; Aanji is cuter than Zutara. Now before you scorn me or whatever, let me explain. Zutara for me is like steak. No. Chicken parmesan. I like chicken parmesan better. The point though is that Zutara is savory. You know? I don't see them as cute, I see them as Obviously. Aanji on the other hand is like a bag of my favorite candy. They are like a brownie. A cookie. Girl Scout Samoas!...I don't know what words are anymore. This post got way out of hand. I guess what I'm saying is that for Zutara, I scream, but for Aanji, I squeal. I hope that makes sense. But here's the main point I want to make. Onji never knew who Aang really was. And Aang was always, at his core, himself. She very obviously had a crush on Aang for his personality and that was crazy cute and frankly preferable to Katara's "I...guess he is." (you know exactly what I'm talking about) Anyway, I kept wanting more of them together. I wish all the time that we'd gotten to see her again, with a more fleshed out character and all. And in the way that I imagine the show should have gone, she could have been the perfect love interest for Aang, during this episode or way later, even in the comics! Another WASTED opportunity for greatness and I will, again, never recover T-T

10. Iroh get your ass back here

Maybe this is a misguided critique but I hated that Iroh just left Zuko alone in the fire nation at the end of the series. Baby was in trouble in every sense of the word and Iroh was just like "See ya! You got this nephew." I'm expected to believe that? I'm expected to accept that? No no no. He should have at least stayed for a few years to help Zuko stay upright and, you know, alive. And by "upright" I don't mean "good." I just mean been there to support him because Lord knows he needed it, at least in the beginning of his reign. It was cute that Iroh was able to settle down with his own teashop after all those years of violence and mourning and running and this and that. I was more than happy for him for being able to have that peace finally. But I still think it could have waited a little while longer so he could support Zuko.

That's it I guess. I know not everything I've said makes the most sense in one way or another, but I enjoyed putting it together all the same. Thank you for reading and have a great day. I'll go finish my final now.

(Edited for a typo)

#zutara #katara #aang #aanji #avatar the last airbender #uncle iroh #onji #on ji #Im wasting more time with these tags #avatar the last airbender critique #avatar critique #mai #avatar mai #ty lee #avatar ty lee #tylee #avatar tylee #the southern raiders

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pemfrost · 3 years

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Can you please write a Spideynova with jealous Sam? :)

I’m not sure if this 100% counts, but I tried :D (I didn’t edit, sorry for any typos. I’ll fix ‘er up before I post to AO3)

Sam's head fell against his open biology book and for once he was thankful for how thick the damn thing was. It was almost midnight, and instead of relaxing -or god forbid, sleeping- he was cramming for a final. It was the unglamorous part of being a superhero while also being a high school student. Yea, getting out of a boring lecture to save lives was great and all, but it added up. And it added up quickly.

"Can we just call it a night?" His voice was muffled by the book, but he knew Peter would understand well enough.

Originally, they all studied as a team. Or, tried to. Sam was absolutely fine with how things shook out after Ava stormed out on one session. Now, they took turns rotating to study in smaller groups. It was easier for Sam to focus this way, with fewer distractions. And fewer arguments over the appropriate amount of non-school conversations.

Sam enjoyed studying with everyone; Ava made him actually study, Luke helped give him a new perspective, Danny helped him relax, and Peter gave him a reason to want to succeed. Every time Sam would wonder why he bothered with school, he thought about Peter. Sure, Sam could easily be successful with the Guardians, no stupid Biology final needed. No need to graduate. Just him, his helmet, and a universe at his fingertips.

And then there was Peter. Loathe as he was to admit it, there was something special about Peter, something Sam had yet to find the words to describe. Perhaps Danny could help him when they studied for their English final.

“Take the practice test. Pass it, and then we’ll call it a night.” Peter dropped a small pile of papers on Sam’s head.

Sam groaned and brushed the papers off him without lifting his head. “I'm serious, I’m done.”

“What can I do to convince you? You need to pass this final, unless you wanna retake it…”

There was a teasing lilt to Peter’s voice that made Sam roll his head to this side to see him. The dark circles under Peter’s eyes betrayed his own exhaustion, but his eyes sparked with mischief, like he was daring Sam to make some ridiculous request. Like taking a video game break. Or make a frozen pizza- he’d spied one in Peter’s freezer earlier.

Or, a kiss.

Yes, a kiss would convince him to take the practice test. A kiss. From Peter. A kiss. From Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes when Sam didn’t respond, and Sam was thankful his super power wasn’t reading mind- though, it would make it easier to actually tell Peter. Instead, he was laying on his book, looking to Peter like he was so disinterested he couldn’t even make a joke for the sake of breaking up the monotony of studying.

“I’m grabbing a drink,” Peter stood from the table without looking back to Sam.

“Ugh.” Sam pulled himself up and stretched his stiff back. It was utterly helpless. He was putting so much effort towards a future on Earth just because of Peter- and he had no way of knowing if a future on Earth would include Peter. At least, include him in a way that mattered.

Okay, he could do this. He could tell Peter. Ask Peter. Make all of this work mean something more than the promise of a possibility. And he was certain he wasn’t imagining the looks Peter gave him when he thought no one was looking.

Sam sighed and scooted over to sit at Peter’s seat. His notes were so much more organized, rivaling Ava’s in their detail. He kept his ears trained towards the kitchen, no way he was going to let Peter catch him using his notes, not after their earlier argument over Sam’s own poor note taking.

As he was rereading Peter’s meticulous notes on meiosis for the third time, Peter’s phone lit up next to him. Huh. Usually Peter took his phone everywhere, he wasn’t one to leave it lay around where anyone could, you know, glance at an incoming message.

Sam didn’t mean to look, but he was caught off guard, and his eyes jumped to the screen on reflex. And if they lingered on the screen as more messages came in? Well, no one ever accused him of having tact.

♡♡♡: Still up?

♡♡♡ :Thinking about you ;)

♡♡♡: Miss you!

The room tilted as the screen faded back to black. Sam was certain time was frozen, or sped up, or maybe it just didn’t exist at all and was just made up. Made up like the glances he swore Peter was giving him. Made up like stupid bubble of hope he’d let form around him.

“Sam!” Peter laughed as he entered the room again. “Do you want me to make you a copy? I told you my notes were so much better than yours.”

“Whatever.” Sam grit his teeth and refused to look at Peter as he began shoveling his own notes and book into his bag. What was the point of studying, anyway? He clearly had no chance of being on Peter’s romantic radar.

“Whoa. What’s the rush?”

“Nothing. I told you I was done.” Oh, he was so done. So, so, so, done.

“You’re ridiculous. If you fail the final-”

“Maybe I won’t bother taking it.” Sam was numb, his mind repeating the three messages over and over. Who was it? Who had Peter’s love? What did they have that Sam didn’t?

“The hell, Sam?” Peter raised his voice slightly, still mindful of Aunt May sleeping upstairs.

“Look,” Sam said without any emotion, “I can’t keep… doing this.” He gestured vaguely.

“Look, we don’t have to keep studying tonight. We can do a quick cram tomorrow before-”

“No, Peter.”

Peter stepped to block Sam’s retreat. “What happened? I thought-”

“Well, don’t think.” He glared up at Peter, but couldn’t put any real heat behind it. Peter didn’t do anything wrong, not really. The only person to blame was himself for falling for a teammate.

“What is with you all of a sudden?” Peter’s concern was written all over his face, and it was a punch in the gut. Peter was worried about him, as a friend.

Is that all they would be, then? Friends? But then, what sort of friend was dating someone and didn’t tell his friend? They were friends, right? Right?

“Sam?”

“What are we, Peter?”

Peter jerked back, “What?”

“Forget it.” Sam could feel heat rising up his neck and he refused to meet Peter’s eyes.

“No, what do you mean?”

“I-” Sam bit his tongue, it had betrayed him enough for one night.

“We’re… friend’s? Teammates at least.”

“Least. Because friends don’t keep secrets.” Sam tried to shoulder his way past Peter, but a strong hand on his shoulder held him back. “Let go.”

“So, what? Because I want you to study, we're not friends now?”

“No,” Sam ground out. “We’re not friends because you’re dating someone and didn’t think it was worth sharing with me. Like friends do.”

“I- What?” Peter stammered and the damn hand left his shoulder. Even so, Sam could still feel the warmth lingering where Peter touched. “I’m- I did!”

Sam stared. Peter stared back.

“I told you. When we were getting ice cream with MJ and Harry…”

Oh. Sam looked away, his cheeks warm. He remembered the day, a few weeks ago, remembered staring at Peter as he ate his cone, and nodding along without actually hearing- yea, Sam remembered.

“Sam? S-seriously?”

“Gah! Forget it, already.”

For once, Peter listened, letting him leave without any more questions or comments. What was there to say? Anything more and they would officially be in territory Sam was wholly uncomfortable with traversing. Anything more would carry the possibility of doing permanent damage to their friendship. As it stood, their conversation could be swept under the proverbial rug as a late night blip fueled by studying for too many hours without a break.

When he got back to his room, Sam fell against his closed door and focused on breathing. Peter was dating someone, and that someone was not Sam. Probably never would be. He was not okay with that.

Despite that, he pulled out his notes and gave them one another read before he passed out on the floor.

Thanks for reading!

#spideynova #jealousy #pem writes #ask request #hey I got my laptop out bc my thumb hurts from writing on my phone #and i can actually put a read more on this hahaha

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lilydalexf · 4 years

Photo

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Chimerical

Chimerical’s stories aren’t at Gossamer, but you can now find them at AO3. If you have not read them, are you in for a treat! For instance, Regular People and Regular People Still are some of the X-Files fics I have read and re-read. You may also know Chimerical from her site Chimerical Publications, which was an extensive Mulder and David Duchovny fansite. Big thanks to Chimerical for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I’m not surprised at all that X-Files fandom is still popular, it was an amazing, creative show with iconic characters. Aside from just being entertaining, like all good Sci-Fi it asked deep, profound questions about the nature of relationships and humanity. It’s these things that people remember more than the MOWs.

However, I’m surprised to hear that my stories are still read, mostly because there is always something new, someone has a new take, and of course, we have the more recent episodes which provides all new fodder for writers, which is wonderful. But it’s super nice to hear that stories from the classic show still mean something. Also, I wasn’t a prolific writer, there are only 12 stories, but perhaps they struck a chord and people like to revisit them the way you like to re-watch a favorite episode or movie.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Fanfic is certainly not new, but The X-Files was absolutely at the right place, at the right time. The internet was just really taking off, and it enabled fans to connect instantly in ways that hadn’t before. I remember that Fox used to send out Cease & Desist letters in an ill-considered attempt to stem fanfic because the Suits just didn’t understand what it was. Nowadays, of course, they embrace much of it, encourage it, even. Supernatural wrote whole episodes about it. But in the early days they were really stupid about it.

But what I took away from it was that great community can exist with people you have never met in person. There is a great sharing of ideas and love of great characters.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

It’s true, no Facebook, twitter, tiktok – it seems strange!

But I connected to fandom though the old Usenet message boards, you couldn’t wait until the episode was over until you could leap on and start discussing the episode. And it was painful if you were on the west coast as I was because you would get spoiled. In truth, it wasn’t must different than Twitter, just without the character limitation. But it was rather the wild, wild, west, no moderators and no terms of service. It could be a free-for-all, and some of the disagreements were legendary! For writing, certainly ATXC was the big dog for fic, and of course alt.tv.x-files for discussion. There were many different Yahoo Groups and AOL mailing lists, that catered to interests in fanfic (Friendship/Adult/Slash) or to the characters and/or actors.

But frankly, the main thing I remember was what a complete PITA it was to just get anything posted. There were all these size limitations and ASCII issues that don’t exist today, you had font and formatting limitations, which cause people to get weirdly creative with italics, bolding, quotes and so on. And you had to break your story up in weird way simply to jam it into the email because there were size limitations. And it never failed that no matter how many Beta Reads you had, you didn’t see that last damn typo until AFTER you hit the send button. There was no edit button, all you could do resend the whole damn thing. It was the fanfic version of the 20 mile walk to school through the snow……Kids today have it so easy! LOL….

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Actors are, and always will be, the face of the show. David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson are amazing actors, and the nuance they brought each week was a wonder.

But one of the things that the X-Files also did was make people aware of the people behind the scenes, the showrunners, the writers, the directors. This was also something new. For most TV dramas, most people couldn’t tell you who wrote an episode if you had a gun to their head.

But people knew the writers like Vince Gilligan, James Wong, Darin Morgan, and of course Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz. And they knew the directors, Rob, Chris and the late great, Kim Manners.. It was like a repertory company. You could count on Morgan & Wong for the creepy, you could count of Vince Gilligan for the humor and relationship stuff, you could count on Darin Morgan for the “what the hell was that, but I loved it.”

So I guess what I took away was a deep appreciation for the craft, for the work. This carried over to other fandoms. I’m more aware of the creative team beyond the actors.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

Believe it not, I didn’t watch at the beginning. I’ve always been a Sci-Fi fan but for some reason this wasn’t on my radar. I came in about the middle of Season 1. I was channel surfing and stopped the X-Files, it was the episode “Ice.” I won’t lie, I stopped because I saw David Duchovny in a henley and I’m never one to pass by an attractive man. But as I watched, I became intrigued by these two characters, and their conflicted relationship with each other, even though I didn’t really know what was really going on. But I had to know more. That’s good writing, where you can walk in half-way through an episode and be captured.

I immediately checked out the old AOL Service forums and found a group. Of course, back then, there was no streaming, there was no BitTorrent. So, you just had to wait until when and if the network decided to show a repeat, which meant you were screwed if you were trying to catch up. But someone on one of the boards offered to send me VHS tapes of the episodes of missed. That’s fandom as its best - I’m excited about this and I want to share it with you. So in about a week I was caught up and hooked. I had to see how these two people’s story turned out.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I’ve always written as a hobby, taken many writing classes, have always written short stories, worked on a novel or two. I’ve got friends who are writers by profession. But the closest I ever came to doing it professionally was co-writing a play that ran for a month off Broadway many years ago, so I’m a dabbler, at best. I’m a big reader, and good stories always make me think, “well, what if this happened….”

So, X-Files wasn’t my first fanfic rodeo. I had been involved in Quantum Leap fandom and Beauty and the Beast, some Star Trek. Once I good hooked on the show, I immediately began searching out fanfic. But it took me a long time before I wrote anything. I’m not sure why, perhaps I was waiting to see where the story went. But X-Files was different in that it blended one of my favorite genres with a truly compelling relationship story. And I don’t just mean romance, it was a melding of two entirely different ways of looking at the world that was captivating. Scully was so strong and Mulder so complex, how could you not love them.

So, I enjoy writing, I learn from it. I learn from the feedback, both good and bad. I’ve never understood fanfic writers who say “just sent me nice feedback.” No one loves criticism, and not all criticism is valid. But you learn from it. I’ve had people tell me they hadn’t looked at an episode from that point of view and they like it - and I’ve had people tell me that I didn’t know what I was doing, everyone knew that Scully would never cuss (to which I say, please, she grew up on military bases!) But it helps you improve.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

It was a period of my life I cherish because I met some friends who are still my friends to this day, all these years later because we found other things in common besides a show. It was great to share ideas and debate storylines. And it was a fun, creative, and exciting time. Each episode was must-see and then talking to my friends about it later was the best part.

I started to drift away when David Duchovny left the show. I thought then, and still think, they should have called it a day because the beating heart of that show was Mulder and Scully together. You can’t rip out half the heart and expect the patient to live. On an intellectual level, I got why Duchovny left, I got why Anderson stayed and I got that Fox was a fledging network back then and XF was a cash cow. But on an emotional level, it all turned upside down, especially when the much-promised “search for Mulder” never really happened.

Fans got angry. They were angry at David for leaving, they were angry at Gillian for staying, and they were angry at poor Robert Patrick, perfectly decent person, for merely existing. It got ugly and I got up caught up in that. Frankly, I was as much to blame as anyone in carrying on stupid arguments about crap that didn’t matter. And one day I just realized I’d let all the joy be sucked away, and this just wasn’t who I wanted to be, or how I wanted to spend my time. So, I took a break, I still watched the show as it limped on, but I disconnected from the fandom part of it. And by the time I’d had my break, the show was done!

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I’m always a fan. There are many shows I’ve followed and liked, Supernatural, Fringe, Walking Dead, but I don’t get involved in the internet drama. So, I don’t get as invested.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I assume you mean besides Mulder and Scully! In literature, My favorite writer is John Steinbeck and every character he created was indelible and singular. East of Eden is my favorite book and the characters of Adam & Caleb Trask, as well as Cathy Ames are so well drawn. Of Mice and Men, Cannery Row, they’re all perfect. Another favorite book and character is Alexandre’s Demas, The Count of Monte Cristo. The arc that Edmond Dantès’ life take is quite Mulder-esque. And of course, Harry Potter, I’m a sucker for a character fighting against overwhelming odds.

On TV, Sam Beckett from Quantum Leap. That was an amazingly well-crafted series, also featuring a female show runner, Deborah Pratt. I love the character of Raymond Reddington on The Blacklist, there is something about a completely unapologetic bad guy. I would have once said Dean and Sam Winchester, but sadly that turned into a case of staying too long at the fair and I stopped watching a couple seasons ago - But the early seasons rocked. Literally every single character in M*A*S*H was golden, and they knew when to call it quits. Thomas Magnum from the original Magnum PI. (People my age will still remember the “Did you see the Sun Rise, Ivan” episode!)

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Oddly enough, a few weeks before you reached out to me, I watched the X-Files movie again. I remembered the incredible excitement when it came out. Fox did this tour across the county; it was like a mini-con. But I remember they had the trailer on a loop and my friends and I sat through it so many times we could recite the entire thing by heart. TV shows, such as Star Trek, had made the leap to movie, but I don’t believe a TV show had ever made the leap to films while the show was still on TV. But damn, it was good.

I watched the two recent XF mini-series. They did much to revive the old feeling, especially the episodes by Darin Morgan, who is a national treasure. And it was wonderful to see David, Gillian and Mitch. I’m sorry there won’t be more.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I haven’t in quite a while. Mostly because real life has interfered (work, personal stuff, Covid) over this last year and I have trouble concentrating. But I would certainly return to it, you need the escape of a good story.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Oh yes! But they were all from the time I was writing. Lydia Bower, DashaK, BlueSwirl, XFBandit, Paula Graves, Taverl, Prufrock’s Love, and dozens of other are still on my PC.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Like children, they each have their virtues but some may be harder to love than others. While I love a good smutty MSR, I was also a big fan of conflict resolution. So, I’m going to cheat and split the baby here. Based on feedback, I’d have to day my most popular story was Regular People and its sequel. And I really enjoyed writing that. It’s simple, it’s sweet, it’s what I hope for Mulder and Scully. The chance to just BE, if only for a while.

I wanted to try a slash story, so Wind River. That story was inspired by the murder of Matthew Shepard. I have dear friends in the gay community and I was so angry that this could happen in this country, so that one was about the need to treat people compassionately and who better to do that than Mulder and Scully.

But in truth, my own favorite is one that didn’t get much attention, called Rock Bottom. I wanted to explore that the fact Mulder and Scully, were, on occasion, just truly awful to each other and yet still reason to come back together.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I have a couple unfinished stories. There’s one from Quantum Leap, I want to finish first and when that’s done, I would like to finish the two X-Files that are half-baked.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I do legal writing as a profession now, so I write all day long, but analyzing a case or a legal matter is not the same creatively and I do miss that, so I see returning someday, you need to feed your soul.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Well that’s all over the place, much like my mind! Often I was inspired by something I thought was unaddressed in the episodes. That’s where the Just One series came from. Or it’s a Rosencrantz and Guildenstern kind of thing -- That is, what’s happening off screen while the main action is going on. I find that intriguing, and that’s where Risking Everything came from. The incident in By Coincidence actually happened to a friend of a friend and I thought it would make good fodder. Pentimento came to me following a lecture I attended at a gallery, what happens when you peel back the layers you thought were true. You never know what’s going to connect.

What's the story behind your pen name?

“Chimerical” means existing as the product of unchecked imagination, given to unrealistic flights of fantasy- which seemed right for a fiction writer, especially for XF. In the early days, it became the phonetic “KiMeriKal” when I was on the old AOL service simply because Chimerical wasn’t available as a screen name! But I’m finally [email protected]!

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

Yes, my friends are aware, some of them have been my betas over the years. My brother knows I write, but I don’t think he’s ever read anything because he would find the smut elements uncomfortable coming from his little sister!

Is there a place online (Tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

The most recent versions of my stories are at AO3. If I ever get around to anything new it will be posted there as well.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Thanks for reading, thanks for remembering me, and it was a great time in my life. Fandoms are great communities as long as we can always remember there’s a human being at the other end of the keyboard. Be kind, be compassionate, and never stop imagining the possibilities.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 23, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #chimerical

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smilindesperado · 3 years

Text

New chapter of (My Heart) Still Beats for You is (finally) up!

Aang has some news for Sokka, and Sokka finds himself wanting to spend more time with Suki.

Another update on the shorter side, but we’re moving the story along.

Originally, I had only planned on telling this story from Mai’s POV, but as I started fleshing it out more, I realized that there were some things that I wanted from Sokka’s POV. Eventually I made the decision to dedicate an equal amount of chapters to each character. BUT because of that, in editing Sokka’s chapters end up having a lot more changes to them, whereas the edits to Mai’s chapters are mostly just tightening up her story and cleaning up some prose.

There are some changes to Sokka’s story that were made during edits, including the flashback from chapter 4 (a last minute addition) and changing the flashback in this chapter. Originally, I had Sokka and Yue’s first meeting here, but as I was editing it felt like it was just padding for the chapter instead of actually moving it along. So, ultimately, I took it out and stole a flashback from Chapter 10 because it fit much better here (and I have some different plans for chapter 10, now).

Even still...I really liked some parts of the flashback that I ended up removing, so I’m going to post it here for anyone that’s interested! And if you see me reuse some of the ideas from this excerpt, no you didn’t.

(Also, apart from a quick skim of the text before, I didn’t do much editing on it, so apologies for any typos/awkward grammar.)

“Are you alright?”

Yue’s pretty blue eyes glossed over with worry as she held an ice-stuffed bar rag against Sokka’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, I’m great,” Sokka replied, punctuated with an eye roll. Yue bit her lip and looked to the side, guilty, and he quickly backtracked. “Yeah...I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

The night had decidedly not been going Sokka’s way. He found himself at some schmoozy dinner club uptown for a university alumni event. He usually avoided those kinds of things, but he didn’t really have anything else to do. He had just moved into his new spot, away from old friends, so his Friday night plans usually involved his roommate Aang and/or his sister. Recently, however, that had turned into Sokka hanging out with Aang and Katara, and he felt like it was time for a change of scenery.

So, in an effort to switch up his nights and not get stuck spending another evening as third wheel to his sister and best friend, he decided to give one of these stupid alumni events a go.

And it was stupid. The bar was a little stuffy for his tastes, filled with suits and kids on trust funds if the price of drinks was anything to go by. He recognized a couple of people from his engineering program, but no one he really shared many interests with besides engineering itself.

But the music at the bar was another story.

That was where he met Yue. She was like something out of a dream, really. Or like a movie; a silver screen moment where the lights dimmed and the spotlight illuminated her, erasing the crowd as if the whole universe began and ended with Yue. She tapped her foot along to the beat while a guitarist strummed along in her shadow, singing a lovely melody about the moon and stars to her audience of one.

Sokka never returned to the reserved area for his party, because he had the perfect view at the bar.

Well, it was the perfect view. Until some douchebag saddled up next to him and started hitting on the bartender. The woman was clearly uncomfortable and the guy just couldn’t take a hint. Even worse, once the bartender quickly extracted herself from the conversation, the guy had found another poor girl to harass. This one was unfortunately more comfortable with the situation and Sokka ended up hearing their whole gross flirtations while they exchanged numbers.

But still, it had been worth enduring all of that to catch the last of the siren’s songs.

Sokka cashed out once Yue’s set ended and scanned the room hoping to spot her. He thought she should at least know how incredible she was-er...sounded.

He caught her eye and she began floating towards him, smiling wide. Sokka wondered if he actually hadn’t imagined that she was singing directly to him before the illusion was shattered when she locked her eyes onto someone behind him instead.

Needless to say, when Yue swept up to the guy who had been flirting with everything in sight just a few minutes ago, Sokka boiled over. Perhaps it had been the drinks, or maybe he was just so offended on her behalf, but the accusations spilled out of his mouth before his mind could catch up.

“Wait. You’re with him?”

The guy glared at Sokka, sweeping his hair out of his eyes before slinging an arm around Yue. “Yeah, what of it?”

Sokka knew he should have kept his big mouth shut, because really, it was none of his business. He knew nothing about the woman, but the liquid courage gave him the boost he needed to defend her honor.

After calling him out on his behavior and hurling a few insults at one another, the incident quickly devolved and the guy shoved Sokka, his back hitting the ledge of the bar roughly, which spurred Sokka to tackle him to the ground. Security wrestled them apart and threw the guy and his friends out. The reassurance from the bartender that the other guy instigated the whole thing allowed Sokka to stay behind and make sure Yue was okay.

Or more accurately, allowed Yue to make sure Sokka was okay. Though he wished he could have caught her attention with a different method, Sokka couldn’t help but feel a little thrilled to find himself with an excuse to spend time with this otherworldly beauty.

“I’m sorry about Hahn.” Yue kept her gaze down at the ground, her voice sounding so small. Sokka thought how unfair it was that she was the one feeling guilty in this mess.

“Oh, that guy? He barely touched me. The guy’s probably never been in a fight in his life.”

“Oh?” She looked back up at Sokka again, and he tried his best to not get lost in her eyes. “Do you get into a lot of fights?”

Sokka rolled his neck, feigning a coolness he definitely wasn’t feeling. “Psh, people don’t usually try to get into fights with me.”

Yue got up from her spot to reach for the bag behind her and Sokka realized how that may have sounded. She just (hopefully) dumped her short-tempered boyfriend and probably wasn’t looking for another one.

“I mean, not that I look for fights or anything,” he added quickly. “I’m a lover, not a fighter, you know?”

Was that a weird thing to say?

But Yue giggled and a faint blush rose to her cheeks, and Sokka knew he would do anything to pull that reaction out of her again.

“Well, thank you, Sokka.” Yue slung her purse over her shoulder and gave Sokka a small, pretty smile.

“Uh, what are you up to now? Do you wanna get out of here?” Sokka asked, causing Yue to still, looking him over. His eyes grew wide when he realized how that may have sounded. “Not, like in a creepy way,” he rectified quickly. “I mean, like maybe we could go for a walk and grab some food or...do an activity?”

She raised a delicate eyebrow curiously and her lips pressed together in an attempt to hold back her laughter. “Do an activity?”

“Uh…” Sokka rubbed at the back of his neck before squeaking out a hesitant “...yes?” in confirmation.

A lovely smile graced her lips, and Sokka couldn’t believe his luck. “Okay.”

Maybe Aang and Katara’s oogies would be a little more tolerable if he had a love of his own.

#atla fanfiction #sokka fanfic #mai atla #sukka fanfiction #maiko fanfiction #fic excerpt #fanfiction #smilindesperado fic #atla modern au

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

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Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

General Tag: @quoth-the-sparrow @altruistic-skittles @em-be-lievable @justisaisfine @broadwaytheanimatedseries @thekeytohappiness-is-you @jynxlovesluck @queer-human-being @phlying-squirrel @ab-artist @grey-lysander @a-valorous-choice @xx-fandom-potato-xx @impatentpending @book-of-charlie @randomslasher @tinkslittlebelle @insanelycoolish @ironwoman359 @icecoldparadise @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6 @hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox @smokeyrutilequartz @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton @notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @unikornavenger @humbletortoise @backatthebein @mephonic @paperghastly @ravenclawangst @iamtrashcans @loganberrysanders @ierindoodles @a-new-witch-in-learning @punsterterry @your-average-pangirl @goldteethandacurseforthistown @dragonsight9 @gattonero17

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mostthingskenobi · 4 years

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i’d love to hear a little more about or read a snippet from parallel jedi!! thank you for sharing :)

Hello dear anon!! You’re very kind to show interest :) I’m not sure what I’ve written is any good. I don’t think I’ll ever finish it so I figured I’d share it with you as it is. I had intended to created these 2 plot lines that intersected, even though they took place during different Star Wars eras. It was a challenge I looked forward to... but I lost steam on the project. Perhaps someday I’ll write them as individual one-offs. Let me know what you think. Please don’t judge me to harshly LOL! I haven’t edited this at all, so pardon any typos.

PARALLEL JEDI

Original prompt: Could you do a story that parallels Luke in his prime post RotJ and Obi-Wan in his prime? Something where an enemy or group realizes these subdued, soft spoken yet confident men are actually quite dangerous?

——————–

Pravus – The Outer Rim (9 months after the Battle of Endor)

Luke Skywalker sat slumped against the stone bastion, one leg bent at the knee, the other extended strait in front. His wounds were extensive, requiring considerable concentration to suppress his pain and simultaneously control his labored breathing. His ribs ached and his lungs felt stripped. He was lightheaded from loss of blood, his nerves vibrating with exhaustion. There was little hope of making an escape in his present condition.

He had come alone to this isolated moon following a hunch, seeking out the last of Palpatine’s secret lairs. The Emperor had been dead nearly nine months but the war wasn’t over; Luke discovered evidence that the Dark Lord was caching weapons in remote corners of the outer rim. Skywalker methodically worked his way through the data, interpreting coordinates while cross referencing Sith and Jedi lore, letting the Force guide him from one location to the next. In four different systems he had discovered three bunkers and two private residences that the Emperor had kept for himself, each filled with treasures and horrors alike, each location more dangerous than the next. Palpatine was fond of sinister booby-traps and this current fortress built into the side of a mountain was no different.

Skywalker had breeched the abandoned castle’s walls only to face one ambush after another. The Emperor was clever and cruel, and though Luke ultimately succeeded, he paid dearly for his efforts as he fought through snares, climbed crumbling architecture, and battled assassin droids by the dozen. Hours passed as he made his way higher and higher into the mountainous fortress; each new level he ascended brought more difficult confrontations than the last. When he finally reached the top floor of this seemingly endless tower, he collapsed, his legs turning to jelly under him.

He sat for a long time, unable to move his burning muscles while blood pooled on the floor beneath him, oozing from innumerable cuts and other more severe injuries. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Luke knew his challenges were not finished but his body was screaming for rest. There were times when a Jedi had to power through physical roadblocks, but more importantly a Jedi needed to know his limitations. In this moment of great need Skywalker reached for the Force, let it wrap around him, let it permeate every cell in his body, staunching his blood loss, relieving his pain, soothing his exhaustion. For a few blessed moments everything became passive and silent.

Luke had not encountered a single living soul in the rest of the building but as he shut his tactile senses down and receded inward, he could feel another presence in the Force only a few meters away. Dragging his eyes open he peered into the shadows on the other side of the room.

“I know you’re there,” he said, slurring his words with exhaustion. “Show yourself.”

After a long pause boots scraped across the flagstones as a figure stepped into the light and took form against the darkness. A large man, too thin for his seven-foot frame, with bedraggled long hair and neglected, tattered clothes that had once been fine, stood in front of Skywalker.

“No one has ever made it this far.” The man’s quaking voice revealed his age.

Luke was not fooled by his apparent fragility; dark energy radiated off the old man. “Who are you?”

The old man shuffled closer but did not reply.

“Are you a prisoner?” Luke asked, knowing the answer.

The old man scowled. “Of course not, you impudent wretch. I am The Keeper, chosen directly by the Emperor to guard one of his most sacred artifacts.”

Luke tried to appear stronger than he felt. “You haven’t done such a great job if I’ve made it this far.”

The old man stepped closer to Skywalker, the light seeping in through upper windows casting a ghastly shadow over the wrinkled visage. “I assure you, boy, you will make it no further.” Luke saw the contraption too late as The Keeper raised a hand, leveling the weapon at Skywalker’s body, and fired.

A sharp pain ripped through Luke’s neck, his body instantly becoming paralyzed. The toxic dart worked with unfathomable speed. Skywalker fell back, his body contorting with pain before he slid down the wall and collapsed unconscious on the floor.

——————–

Inesco – Unallied Space (during the Clone Wars)

Cody was missing.

Waxer and Boil were the last troopers to see him. Two days ago the commander had gone off to inspect a rogue transmission that interfered with the squad’s com links. Cody climbed a hillock near the forward operating base; he disappeared over a ridgeline and didn’t come back.

Obi-Wan Kenobi could not deny that he was worried. Though Jedi were not supposed to form attachments, the idea of his trustworthy, loyal, and stalwart clone commander falling into enemy hands set Kenobi’s teeth on edge. Cody was made of tough stuff but the insurgent population had proven to be ruthless and cunning.

The Republic had sent Obi-Wan with a small clone contingent to Inesco, a desperate system nestled directly between Republic and Separatist lines. The depleted planet was constantly caught in the galactic conflict while both sides fought to possess it as a staging ground. Kenobi had no interest in tormenting the local populace any further and hoped to finish his mission quickly.

Fate was against him.

He and his platoon had instantly been caught up in a local fight between the Calvorian mercenaries that lived in the mountains and the Inescan tribes that lived in the plains. Kenobi was supposed to infiltrate and confiscate a Separatist weapons cache, but the local civil war meant that the Calvorians, the Inescans, and the Republic were all vying for the same treasure.

What was meant to be an easily executed smash-and-grab mission had turned into a week and a half of bloody conflict. In the beginning the Republic forces had easily confiscated the weapons but the Calvorian mercenaries had destroyed Kenobi’s transports. Meanwhile, the Republic attack cruiser waiting in orbit became embroiled in a standoff with Separatist’s ships and couldn’t spare any shuttles to rendezvous with their ground forces. That meant Obi-Wan, his men, and the weapons cache were stuck on Inesco until another Republic cruiser arrived. According to the latest brief, Anakin’s ship would enter the system sometime within the month—not very comforting estimates.

The situation on the ground had become dire. They were running short on food and water, but even more concerning were the frequent surprise attacks made by both the Calvorians and the Inescans, each trying to take their share of the Separatist weapons so that they could carry on killing each other. Obi-Wan’s men were starving, exhausted, and damn sick of being caught in the middle. When Cody disappeared, even Kenobi’s temper flared. He sent scouts in every direction to spy on the insurgents, desperate to discover his commander’s whereabouts, but no information came back. No one knew which tribe, if any, had captured Cody. The plain truth was no one was even sure if Cody was alive.

As the sun set on the third day of the Clone Commander’s disappearance, Obi-Wan felt utterly defeated though he refused to let it show in front of the other soldiers. He sat in a dark bunker with four other troopers; they were all supposed to be getting sleep while second squad kept watch, but all of the men were wound too tightly to rest. Kenobi was pouring over terrain maps trying to discover a likely place where insurgents might take prisoners. He hadn’t slept in days and his vision was blurring around the edges, but he didn’t care; he wouldn’t rest until Cody was safe.

The bunker door suddenly slammed open and Boil came in, shoving a tall, sturdy man ahead of him. Kenobi could see that the man was a Calvorian, the tribe’s distinctive tattoos visible on his hands and neck.

All of the clones in the room quickly stood and warily raised their weapons.

“Easy, everyone,” Obi-Wan said calmly as he also stood. “Weapons down. I’d like to hear what our guest has to say.”

The clone troopers lowered their weapons but they did not relax their guard.

“This one says he has a message for you, General,” Boil said, giving the insurgent another shove until he was right in front of the Jedi.

Kenobi crossed his arms over his chest. “What can I do for you?”

The Calvorian was strong, his shoulders broad and rolled back with good posture, but he looked as worn out as the Republic troops felt. “My general would like to put an end to this standoff between our tribes.”

“That is wise,” Kenobi said dryly. “You and the Inescans have more in common than you know. You would do better to work together rather than try to kill each other…”

“I speak of the conflict between our tribe and your tribe.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan shook his head, disappointed. “Very well. What are your terms?”

“My general has something to offer you. He asks that you return with me and discuss a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Kenobi felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He didn’t believe this was a trap, but he suspected he wouldn’t like what the Calvorian mercenaries had to offer.

“And what of my men?”

“You may bring no more than two.”

Obi-Wan didn’t feel the need to bring anyone with him. If he got into trouble, it might be easier if he were on his own. But he quickly changed his mind and turned to Boil. “You and Waxer are coming with me.”

The clone immediately straitened his shoulders. “Yes, Sir!”

Perhaps the troopers would be able to snoop around for Cody while Obi-Wan met with this general.

He lightly ran his fingers over his lightsaber hilt as a quick touchstone, a way to keep the Force foremost in his mind while he was suffering from terrible exhaustion. The kyber crystal at its heart was alive, thrumming with his life Force; and his energy greatly depended right now on his fellow troopers. Whatever he was walking into, it wasn’t going to be easy.

He gestured politely toward the door. “By all means, please lead the way, my friend.”

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rrrawrf-writes · 4 years

Text

lordy lordy loo it’s been a hot minute since i’ve made an original post, i forgot where the button was

so. some of you may have seen the stuff running around about violetvineyard and mvcreates, some of you may not have. i’m just gonna lay out my experiences here, now that other people are talking about it and now that the server has been deleted. i’m gonna try to present a fair and nuanced version; i’m not gonna include screenshots (right now) bc i’m lazy, mostly.

there are several other people who are putting up way better breakdowns than i am. i just figured i might as well toss mine onto the pile bc why not? but if you’re hoping to hear from me a story about how i’ve been wronged, per se, you won’t find much of one, because i played mainly a spectator role, and never had much trouble there. i will have a vague, lukewarm defense of some of the people involved that other people may not agree with, but again, this is all just the whole VV deal from my point of view.

@nuwuhorizons (i haven’t said how dang much i lOVE your url) and @sapiencenotes have very good receipts and breakdowns. if you want a more in-depth (and dramatic, forgive me for using the word, i’m not trying to downplay this), check them out. @time-to-write-and-suffer also has some great stuff on their blog about all of this.

all righty. so. i joined VV not right at the beginning, but soon after it was started. there was an application process, i got accepted, i was looking for a community to help me start writing more. (it didn’t help, but that’s not their fault, that’s mine.) the person who owned the server was called mina, and on tumblr, mina’s url was mvcreates. mina is a nonbinary Muslim woman of color, a professional who i believe works at harvad and deals a lot with things like infectious diseases, iirc. she was doing a whole lot of work when the pandemic came around, and so the past few months wasn’t quite as active as she had been at the start, both on the server and tumblr.

the very first time mina came on my radar, before i joined vv, was because she had corrected someone’s typo on a post, and it stirred up a minor drama about “don’t give unsolicited criticism” and “is pointing out minor errors like that okay” and blahblahblah. i ran across that on a friend’s dash, and also ran across the promo for vv from that friend’s dash, as well, and joined bc y not.

everything was p cool for a while. it was nice to meet some new people and some of my mutuals on there. mina seemed like a fun person. she was about a year, year and a half, maybe, older than i am. the first things that kind of started rubbing me wrong at the start was how she would kind of dismiss suggestions for the server than i and a friend had, and how she kept bringing up her age - she would often say things like “well i wouldn’t do that but i’m an Old(TM) so maybe i just don’t get it” and i can’t really explain why that bothered me. i think it felt dismissive, like Younger Folks Don’t Know How Things Should Work. also, like. she kept bringing it up. as if it meant something, as if plenty of us on that server weren’t actually around her age. there was a convo on vaccinations where i wanted to make the point that a lot of anti-vaxxers should be educated instead of ridiculed and shamed, but i never really got to making that point bc she jumped in very sharply and explained that anti-vaxxers all come from a class of people who are generally educated. i didn’t bother saying anything else.

at the start, it was tiny little things like that. i chalked it up to her personality and mine just not quite matching up. i sat down a lot and examined my own internal biases, bc i knew something was bugging me, but i couldn’t tell if it was legitimate, or if i was jealous and petty, or if i was being discriminatory towards her identity. i still wonder that a lot; i want to be careful that i’m examining her actions here, and not the person who made those actions.

because the other thing that bothered me was that she was perfect at pretty much everything. she was a decent, if not good, writer, from what i read. i thought her “art”/edits were neat, even if sometimes i looked at them going “that just looks like an edit, not your own art, but u kno, edits are art too, so i’m not gonna say anything.” she had a lot of motivation, a lot of ambition. soon, this kind of transferred over into me feeling like she acted like she had to be perfect at everything. i think this is probably one of the more “lisa is just being petty” things, rather than a judgement on her character, but she seemed to flaunt her own skills and accomplishments a lot. not that no one is allowed to brag sometimes! but it was just another layer of “this bothers me.”

then there was the hero worship.

people in the server loved mina. i liked her. i had no problems with her, even if there were a few things i was a little “ehhhh” about. vv got pretty big, pretty quickly, and i assume there was a decent amount of turnover and people who just joined to lurk or sometimes share things in the promos channel or elsewhere. but the most active folks just. they adored mina with every fiber of their being. mina could do no wrong. no one ever called her out on anything; everything she did was hailed as fantastic and wonderful. and honestly, for the most part, it wasn’t like she was doing crappy stuff. some of the praise was well-deserved, imo, but it just bordered on embarrassing for some of these people, how much they just worshipped the ground she walked on.

and she didn’t really like, discourage it. like, at the start, i think i remember her being more modest, but in general, she just let it go, and so did i, bc like. i aint that kinda jerk.

the stated purpose of violetvineyard was to have a community that valued reciprocity. reciprocity was mina’s biggest thing. there was a channel for people to post their stuff on, so the rest of us could browse and read and reblog. i, admittedly, didn’t do as much of that as i wish i did, but part of it was because i do have a life outside of the internet, a memory and attention span the size of a gnat, and because like. 90% of the stuff that people put in the promos channel were things like edits, writeblr intros, wip intros, etc etc, when all i wanted was to just read some actual writing. but that’s neither here nor there. what got hilarious to me, though, was whenever mina’s fervent admirers would talk about how mina was, quote, a pillar of the community. how vv was doing something No Other Writeblr Group Had Done Before. how Important and Special this server was.

folks. i’ve been on here for several years now. we don’t have a community. we have a bunch of little cliques who reblog from their friends and complain about people not reblogging them. noah fence, but come on. vv got pretty dang big, but it was still a small corner of a small section of tumblr. like. sorry, all y’all, but them’s the breaks.

also, this was hilarious to me bc there are several big writeblrs who have been running around long before mina and vv showed up. yet, according to these people in the server, mina had Single-handedly Brought Hope To This Desolate Wasteland.

in the end, vv became just another little clique whose members reblogged from their friends. i don’t want to devalue the good that did come out of vv. a lot of the picture being painted rn was that the majority of the server were scary dog-piling people. the majority of the server were just writeblrs looking to promo their stuff and talk about their writing. unfortunately, few bad apples, bad rep, negatives outshine positives, etc etc. but i think it did do some good re: exposure for a few folks, even tho it didn’t turn into what it could have been.

another one of the things that was a minor irritant to me was that they eventually started archiving the vent channel, which was probably the most-used channel. that didn’t sit right to me, but as always, i was a coward had nothing to say about it, so i didn’t. the reason given was that there were often things in the vent channel that people might regret being there, so it was periodically archived and a fresh channel started.

so i’m rambling a lot about stuff that’s probably boring and inconsequential. that’s 90% of this whole vv thing, tho, you need to understand that.

the biggest thing that bothered me about mina, i think, came about from the constant hero worship from her adoring fans. and i know there’s a whole argument to be said about expecting labor from people with marginalized identities, which is an argument i agree with - don’t expect someone of a minority group to educate you or to face trauma or to shut down bigots, etc etc. but by now, mina had a lot of followers in general, and in specific, she had quite a few people who would defend her at every single perceived slight.

she made a lot of those fun writeblr reblog games, like “send me a fruit that says this about my writing.” those were cool, i’ll admit that. but she was super into “you have to send an ask to the person you reblog from, RECIPROCITY!!!!!!!!!!!” and seemed to struggle with the fact that sometimes, people don’t follow her established rules on her posts for these games. she’d complain about it every single time that happened in the vent channel, which, again, that’s fine? that’s what vents are for, it’s annoying to not get cool fun asks when you do these games, but also, that’s life for you. she could depend on her fans to send her plenty of asks, whereas the much smaller blogs who reblogged these games would probably get f-all, half the time. if you’ve gone through nuwuhorizons or one of the other blogs i mentioned earlier, you’ll have run across the incident where mina’s friends harrassed an 11 year old for not doing her ask game right.

an eleven year old.

and this is my biggest grief with mina. she only stopped her friends from dogpiling people... once? maybe twice? that i remember. and not only that, but there were SEVERAL occasions where she would get on the vent channel, complain about someone who had said something wrong on one of her posts (and sometimes, again, these were legitimate!), and then ask if someone in the server wanted to reply to them. reasons for such ranged from “i’m too busy rn” to “they would probably listen more to a white person than me.”

again. this, on occasion, is not necessarily a bad thing. we cannot expect labor and response from minorities. my issue was that she kept doing this. and sometimes it was fine, just someone who would drop a note on the post or send a polite anon. but this, to me, the whole asking someone else to fight your battles for you? that really bothered me. mina is a grown adult. either ignore it, like the rest of us chumps, or deal with it yourself. having friends support you is not a bad thing - if i was attacked on tumblr and my friends jumped in to defend me, i’m cool with that. but i wouldn’t ask them to, and then not do anything myself.

to me, this attitude just encourages dogpiling. this felt like she was taking advantage of the people admiring her so whole-heartedly, and using them to deal with minor grievances. (again, i don’t want to downplay some of the actual racism and xenophobia she experienced on this website, because there was some pretty sketchy stuff that did need someone else stepping in to object to. but then there was “ugh this person asked me what program i use to make my music and i don’t want to answer them bc that’s rude,” and stuff of that caliber. like, mina, you built yourself a pretty big following here on tumblr, you don’t get to complain when people are trying to ask you questions and engage with you when you set yourself up as a knowledgeable person on a subject.)

i’m going to mention @gingerly-writing because she already made a post on the subject, but there was an instance where we were in the vent channel and watched a lot of mina’s friends send anons and reblogs of a hurtful nature to one person. eventually, ginger stepped in to say “hey, i don’t think we need to keep doing this, they are a minor,” and after she did so, i also jumped in, saying something along the lines of, “yeah, i’ve seen this kind of stuff blow up in another server and end in a really regrettable situation where no one was happy, can we stop.” both ginger and i received a private message from the mods (individually) saying that we shouldn’t police the chat, etc etc. not during that message, but on the vent channel, another mod jumped in to say that the people dogpiling the blogger were also minors. as if that makes it okay, and isn’t actually extremely worrying in its own right.

after that, i pretty much took a stance of “all right then i just won’t say anything at all.” i stuck around vv because i hated myself actually really liked a few of the others in the server, including a couple of the mods who are actually really cool people, not all the vv mods are sketch, and because honestly? i lowkey knew that vv was going to crash and burn sometime, and i wanted to be there to watch what happened. due to the pandemic, and her line of work, mina became less active, and the whole server died down a bit.

then someone reblogged one of mina’s ‘art’ posts and accused her of tracing. mina’s admirers immediately jumped into action. nuwuhorizons has it pretty well documented on their blog. there was nothing in the server about it, except one of the others said “oh man i saw that and it pissed me off,” there was some minor chat, and then i woke up and wanted to know what had happened, and was told “don’t worry about it.”

so, naturally, bc the only thing i thirst for is water and Drama(TM), i went looking for it.

found it on some of mina’s friend’s blogs, where i found who had reblogged and said mina was tracing, and followed those reblog chains, where several of mina’s followers attacked the accuser and made fun of their name and age and defended mina, pulling out progress videos and stuff of mina’s work. the accuser was trans and still a teenager, even if technically an adult, so that made things a lot worse. mina eventually posted something explaining that she was pencil tracing and had a very cheery, false-positive tone to the whole thing.

things sorta ended at that, but then maybe the same day, or the day after, user hyba made that big ol post about the Big Scary Tumblr Mirror Website Copying All Your Good, Hard Work. mina and her friends jumped on this. they threw it in the server and talked about things like intellectual property rights and “i don’t like how this makes me feel :(” and from there, went in to how tumblr was a terrible garbage site and then mina and most of the mod team decided that it was time to pack up VV and leave tumblr completely.

pretty much everyone i know were mina’s besties have vanished off tumblr. mina made an announcement that VV was “migrating” off tumblr and discord(???) and dropped another application to join the great vv migration. i did not apply bc i just have too freaking much going on in my life and needed to get out of this for the sake of my own mental health. it was tempting as hell, tho, i will say that.

a couple things about this - at the time, mina is also having some pretty bad things going on in her family. she was very vague on the details, but i think that really contributed to wanting to leave; on top of the pandemic and everything else, she was probably heckin stressed. but also like. she never called out her followers for attacking her accuser. she never made any sort of post talking about it. she never told her friends on the server “hey don’t do that.” she never took accountability for it, or, honestly, for anything else she or her friends have done that didn’t feel too good. the mirror sites aren’t really a big deal.

after the server was archived, it was left up a couple days so everyone could grab contact info, etc. during this time, i was checking the ‘violetvineyard’ tag and saw someone post “what happened to mvcreates they haven’t answered my application to vv,’ and i responded with “oh, the server closed down bc of the copy cat sites.”

the same day, i got a tumblr DM from one of the former mods asking me not to give away any details about vv leaving tumblr. it was very politely worded and everything, but it was still just like

okay? vv is over? why are you asking me not to say anything. and it wasn’t like i was even spilling any hot goss, i was just repeating the excuse (and i do mean excuse) mina gave us.

anyway, that mod is off tumblr, too, as far as i know, or else they stealthin. which is fine, u do u, buddy.

uhh conclusion time, i guess? i have a few scattered screenshots of things, but i’m not posting em bc i’m lazy and also running late for a thing. but really, for me, i didn’t have a whole lot of beef with mina or pretty much any of the other folks on vv. i thought that mina and her friends were a bit too eager for blood, and that really bothered me. i’m annoyed they shut down vv completely, because it could actually have been something great. if mina wanted off writeblr, i wish she had given the whole network over to people interested in running it; instead, what was a good thing for a lot of people is now completely gone, with no existing framework for people to build on. sure, anyone can go make their own network/family for writeblr, but now it’s just going to splinter into a bunch of different, smaller groups, and we’re all back to square one.

but whatever. i didn’t get to see the server go down in flames, instead it just ended with a hasty retreat and a few whimpers, and quite honestly i wished my staying in had paid off.

i do want to reiterate - there were quite a few people in vv who i think are great, and this does include some of the mods themselves.

i’ve also gotten a couple messages from a few other folks who had been in vv who have their own real, real sketch stories, which are making me rethink how i feel about mina and her friends, and all the good credit i gave them. i just wanted to present this bc it’s my blog and i do what i want, fight me.

and if anyone wants to chat about vv, hit me up. i keep things as private as you want them to be, and i love love love talking about this nonsense. Give Me The Deets.

#violetvineyard #vv drama #long post #sorry not sorry #i just wanted to give a touch more balanced view on vv #i have a few other things i could talk about but none are really worth the effort

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jokerownsmysoul · 3 years

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I was tagged by @arthurflecksgirl like, months ago if not a year ago. 😩 I'm so sorry it took me so long, the post got lost in my drafts and I totally forgot I had it, now that I'm cleaning up my drafts I found it and I understand why I've so many drafts lmao. Thank you for tagging me! 🌺🌿

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 6 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I didn't have this blog in 2019, I started this blog in March 2020 so I'll put what I posted so far 🌻

Joker drawing • this is the first drawing (and the last so far lmao) I've ever made of Arthur and of course I cherish it dearly. 💙 I wish I drew more consistently because I've so many ideas and drawing Arthur is special, but my brain works like this unfortunately and I'm slow ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)

Drawing you in • I poured all of myself into this one and I loved the writing process of it, it felt like a memory and it's priceless when a piece comes so naturally and feels so right. I haven't been so inspired in months 💙

Apocalypse • this is the first piece I've ever written right away in English and I was proud for that. 👉🏻👈🏻 Before this one I used to write in my native language and only after I translated the whole thing, because I thought I couldn't write in English. But I did, and I was very happy. After this piece I kept writing in English. 💙 I love this piece also because I wrote it after a long writer's block that lasted for months that felt endless. I got inspired for the first time in months, it was priceless to come back to my writing again after struggling so much, and if anything, this piece also helped me to notice how much my style improved. In hindsight maybe this writer block was what my mind needed. 🌱

The extension of two souls shared around a tiny table • this is one of the pieces I cherish the most because it did feel like this piece wrote itself through my hands. The story came to me in my dreams one night and as soon as I woke up, I knew I had to write it down. It might be singular Joker with a daughter but to me it's very special and swoonworthy. 🤧💙 I'm waiting for the right moment to write the second part, hoping that this 2nd part will write itself as the first did. 🥺

Until death do us part • I loved the writing process of this one, I had no idea of what I was doing when I started writing it, I just did, going with the flow and this piece was the result. It might be clear since this piece doesn't have a real plot, it's just word vomit lol, but that day was a bad day and writing it felt nice. 💗

The brightest sun in the golden hour • Last but not least, I picked this one because I'm a sucker for domestic bliss, nothing new 👉🏻👈🏻 and writing was a beautiful journey. I don't know if I captured exactly what I wanted, and I find a lot of typos if I read it now, but I love it. Writing about Arthur asleep and describing what he looks like while sleeping is one of my favorite things to write, and I'm proud of the imagery and metaphors I used in doing so. 🥺

I tag: @fleckcmscott @iartsometimes @sweet-nothings04 @ajokeformur-ray @thegirlwhosims @sleepy-sheepz and anyone who wants to do it ❣️🌹 no pressure if you don't want to :🔴)💐

#my drafts are so messy. I'm sorry if you've tagged me on a thing and I didn't interact #I will 😭#Tag list

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kaleidoscopeheartandsoul · 4 years

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Lie to Me Theory: Music Video

Start Here: Lie to Me Theory: Timeline

There is no way to beat around this part of theory. It must be approached directly and bravely. All of what has happened in the timeline to here has left people distracted. So no one would be looking for the ultimate truth in a video about lying. Luke is singing. He addresses four different people. Everyone is represented by cars: three different parties. Two different agendas for being in relationships. All stemming from one reason.

First we need to talk about the two truly significant elements of the Lie to Me Music Video: the lyrics and the center car.

What do we mean by lyrics? The ones available on AZlyrics or Genius? The ones they’re singing? Not this time.

From the video description.

Artist frequently put their lyrics in the description of their videos. 5SOS does this on a number of their videos. This is the only one of their videos where the lyrics in the description 1. from a different version of the song and 2. have a typo in them

Here is one of the screenshots of the LTM Official MV that I took.

These were the official lyrics that Ashton, Calum and Luke wrote with Ali Tamposi. And then a very talented and good female singer, Julia Michaels, was brought in so they could make the official lyrics publicly available

It is strange that they would do this. Why not just leave both versions of the lyrics under the proper versions of each video? Unless the lyrics of the official audio version aren’t actually the right lyrics.

It is careless and weird that the grammar on most of their videos (all of their other music videos) is good and then suddenly on LTM the first typo on a music video appears. They would have caught it and fixed it by now, surely.

These boys don’t know how to spell “Change” huh? ‘Chang’

Don’t know how to edit the description of a YouTube video? Forgot to? Don’t care to? Remember when Michael told Luke on twitter to go back to school.

Change is the only word mispelled in the description of any of their music videos...because the lyrics were “Changed.”

Yes, it is entirely possible something this cryptic occurred.

Think Think Think

The cleverness within this band should not be underestimated. Time and time again, artists under Modest! have used covert means to convey the truth of their situations without the majority of their audiences noticing.

These in the description are the original lyrics of LTM. The lyrics of the official release were changed to fit the image that management wanted to promote. This seems to be the implication, so interpretation of the music video rests on these lyrics and not the ones they are singing.

Symbolic Cars

This part was easy for people to pick up on.

Represented on the passenger side of the center car by 96 like Hemmo1996.

Then there’s the other side of the car.

Represented on the driver’s side of the center car by these two lower-cased letters: ae. So who’s ae?

There are a number of options for people special enough in Luke’s life that he might want in the car with him, in fact, a person he cares enough about that that person might be the driver. A person with ae in their name. So there’s a lot of those. What narrows down the options is that ae is a person who is close to Luke but in the same situation as Luke. They are both circled by cars that represent threats to their wellbeing. So you can decide who ae is. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this video was released the week of Michael Clifford’s engagement. That would be ludicrous.

Now we can talk about the video story

L can see the mess before he agrees to be a part of it. The two cars are already circling like sharks before he gets into the car. He still gets into the car, sitting in the backseat. He’s surrendered for the next half of the video. Pain and heartbreak etched into his face.

The circling cars represent “toxic people” like Ashton clued. So the circling cars are toxic relations.

He addresses the first chorus primarily to the circling car with toxic person #1. This is a person who left him not only emotionally fraught but publicly humiliated him and scarred his reputation, then dropped all responsibility for fun and left him to do the clean up.

And now I wish we never met

because you are too hard to forget

While I’m cleaning up your mess

I know he’s taking off your dress

And I know that you don’t, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The easy interpretation:

1. The person involved is sleeping with someone else but L isn’t angry that he’s been betrayed. Maybe because he loves her so much he could even forgive that...or maybe because he actually never loved her.

2. Her marks on his life still causes a lot of grief because she publicly humiliated him and took no responsibility, so this is why all his regret stems from being stuck in the dump she threw him into

3. But he’s in communication with her---so he can ask her questions. Like if she still loves him. But that doesn’t make sense if he didn’t even like her that much.

“LTM represents when someone is in a relationship for something other than what you are there for.” Like fame or publicity, but Luke is using her for something else entirely.

Luke was being used because he was in a vulnerable situation. He still is in a vulnerable situation. It made it easy for others to hurt him but he didn’t rely on them.

He starts by regretting the toxic relationship, but in these last two lines, he is turning to a different person, his person.

Luke’s voice lifts at the end of each chorus as he turns to his last hope. “And I know that you don’t” because he sees how disgusted the person must be by the situation “but if I ask you if you love me, I hope you lie...” I hope you’ll love me. Despite how much you couldn’t--don’t like me.

It’s 3 am and the moonlight’s testing me

I know you’ve been holding onto someone else

And now I can’t sleep (Ah)

I ain’t happy, oh

I ain’t too happy, oh

This verse starts immediately after the first time we get to see the driver’s side of the car where it says ae. This is extremely coincidental. It’s shifting focus onto another person.

So he’s addresses ae basically, ‘I feel tested. I’ve turned to you and begged you to take me, but you’ve been acting like me, holding on to the same stories I’ve been through with a toxic person. It worries me. I am not happy. But I am also not mad at you.’

Luke holds back from accusing ae even though he would like to. He is wounded again by ae’s actions but he does not want to outright blame ae for the situation that they are both stuck in the center of.

Flashing back to New York City

Chang your flight so you stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

‘Flashing back’ is when we recall memories. Nostalgia sets in for a better time. The first pre-chorus, Luke has a balance he is reminiscing about when he at the time thought he could balance both of his relationships perfectly. There was turmoil of course--the need to re-negotiate flights because of a mess up with leaving to New York--but it was alright after that and that’s why he was led into a false sense of security that he got this “right.” Did anyone ever have to change flights when they were trying to leave New York city because of a mistake.

It’s funny that I thought this typo was on purpose because the official lyric again is ‘Change your flight so you stay with me’ but if it was really meant to be ‘changed’ then it would fit a dual purpose, warning us about the lyric flop and talking about that one time someone had their flight changed when they were trying to stay with Luke too. I’m dropping hints like bombs but I’m not saying what I’m talking about yet and it’s hilarious and terrible. Later post I promise.

Flashing back to New York City

I was done but you undid me

Classic me to run when it feels right

The second time, Luke runs away from New York City, symbol of stability and security within his relationship with ae. He was done--he didn’t have any interest in connection with any of the toxic ones--but you undid me--again the theme of being humiliated and having a slaughtered reputation, the pain that goes with that. And now after the 3am verse Luke is with ae, and done with TP #1, but ae’s ‘someone else,’ the second circling car, the other toxic person, is there to ruin Luke’s life again but by being attached to ae. This time Luke wants out. He’s so done already but this person is causing him double the agony that the last one did because he’s involving someone he cares for deeply. And he leaves the car before either of the circling cars smash into it. There is no Luke to hurt. Luke got out when “it feels right.” He knew this time that things were going well with ae but he gave up on ae because he was tired.

While Luke was humiliated, and went through a great deal of grief because of his toxic relationship, at no time during the car collisions do we see 96. Instead, the footage of the driver’s side of the car with the prominent ae is flipped so it looks as though the wheel of the car is on the right side passenger side of the car. It’s as though everything that once applied to Luke’s situation now applies to ae’s cause holy shit.

As it turns out, ae takes the hardest hit. The tempo is the most upbeat it was the entire video during the last chorus. Luke is still surrendered to the situation but he’s protesting against the way they have been treated. Now all the boys are united, not just watching Luke. They’re all supporting each other. Luke is talking to Toxic Relationship person 2 in this chorus. He is stronger now. He’s done this before and the boys are supporting him. He’s standing up for ae.

Last chorus:

Now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While he's taking off my dress

I know she's laying on your chest

The relationship between himself and ae is the strongest it’s ever been, but even when ae’s taking off Luke’s clothes, Luke can tell that ae’s toxic relationship weighs on his heart. It is as though she is laying on his chest like depression weighs on the heart. Also this is gay if it’s real.

Final verses:

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Singing, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie (Yeah yeah)

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The last part “I know that you don’t....” is repeated twice with many desperate pleas for lies. It is repeated twice for both types of relationships: toxic and ae.

For toxic, he hopes that they pretend that they love him. He’ll even sing their lies. For ae, he hopes whenever they are in public playing their games of animosity, if he ever slips up and does something loving or a giveaway, he hopes ae will lie about loving Luke too and follow through playing their pretend game of hate because it’s the only way to avoid making the situation worse, and that’s the one thing the management and the boys want.

Then the car explodes

Because he knows, they know, it’s not going to work. All the lies are going to blow them up. So the car explodes. Showing ae. The lies literally made ae explode.

An hour after the Lie to Me Music Video premieres, Michael’s fiancee announces publicly that they are engaged.

Take care everyone :) tpwk including you

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #lie to me #Luke Hemmings #Michael Clifford #ashton irwin #calum hood #lie to me theory #muke #muke clemmings #kaleidoscope heart and soul #real fans save bands

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kingreywrites · 4 years

Note

15-25? (sorry that’s a lot lol I won’t be offended if you don’t answer all of them)

Fic Writer Asks

Aww don't worry I really love talking!! Sorry to everyone else for the long post (i'm gonna put a read more!) but thank you for all these questions I'm thriving 🥰💕

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Instead of filmed I'm gonna say animated and in this case I'd say Overarching Shadows because my dream is for Eugene to sing the healing incantation and he does it in this one fgsjkdkd

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

To the surprise of no one, New Dream! And honestly it wouldn't be much of a sacrifice because it's really the only ship I've ever invested myself in fhsjkdkd usually I'm more of a gen writer?? But I fell in love with their relationship 🥺

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Mostly start to finish because my brain can't deal with doing stuff out of order! sometimes i do write one scene in advance but most of the time it's because it's THE scene i wanna write, and once I'm done i'm not motivated enough to finish the story fhsjdk

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

Nope, I'm a mess of a writer

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

... does Eugene count? 😂 he's the focus of almost all my wips

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

It's 3am. Everything is silent and dark except for my phone. I'm tired enough that I'm less self-conscious about what I'm writing, but not tired enough to fall asleep mid-sentence fgsjskghs (honestly I don't need much but 3am is really the hour when I do the most of my writing 😂)

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Not nearly enough that's for sure. I reread and edit a lot while I'm writing, but once I finish, I go over it 2 or 3 times and then I post (and regret when I reread again and find all the typos fhsjdkd)

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

Huh. Well I took a part from my earliest tangled fic, Castles made of sand (my abandoned moongene fic 😔), but I'm not sure I really have a style, or that it changed significantly since march 😭

Original extract:

"In his hand, the moonstone pulsed with power and it burnt - not like a fire burnt but he had no other words to describe this sensation. It was as if his whole body was resisting it, like an instantaneous fever, and he was losing, he knew he was but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. He only wanted to check on Rapunzel."

My rewrite:

"In his hand, the moonstone pulsed with power and it burnt, an intangible fire spreading through his veins and taking his breath away. But it wasn't fire; it was nothing he had ever experienced before, nothing he could understand or explain beyond the pain overtaking him. His entire body was tensing, trying to fight off a force it didn't have a chance against, and it was losing - Eugene was losing, and he knew it, but he couldn't regret it. All he wanted was to check up on Rapunzel, and make sure she was safe; he didn't care about what happened to him."

This was fun tbh!!

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Probably Blood Duty because I feel like this story was really weirdly constructed and I'm not too proud of it. I don't think I managed to convey what I was trying to? Idk I just don't like it and feel like there's a lot of room for improvement

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

fhsjsks no i try really hard to never do that despite sometimes wanting to! I just... I personally experienced seeing some of my fav fics disappear because their authors didn't think they were good enough, and I always try to tell myself that my worst works can still make someone happy somewhere, and it costs me nothing to keep them up!

25. What do you look for in a beta?

where is that post that says "too embarrassed to have a beta but not embarrassed enough not to post"?? because that's me. I genuinely don't know what i would look for, though perhaps the most important thing would be to know and trust them? Idk

#since i had to check it you made me want to finish my moongene fic aghsjdkd #also it's stupid but i've always been bothered that this fic was 7999 words...... I ONLY NEEDED ONE MORE FOR 8K THIS IS TORTURE #anyway thanks for all these questions!! i had fun!!#ask game

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rushingheadlong · 4 years

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A review of Queen: The Early Years

Well I have finally finished reading Queen: The Early Years, and now that I have read all 198 pages of this book I feel very confident in saying:

Yall I don’t think this is a good book. Like I really, really do not think this is a good book.

I’ve talked about some of this once or twice before, but I wanted to get all my thoughts about this in one place so, here we go. Brace yourselves, this is going to get wordy (as all my posts invariably do).

The Sources (or lack thereof)

The author wrote this book based on interviews with “over 60 friends and colleagues” of the band. Contrary to an earlier post of mine, he does provide a full list of the people he spoke with, however a lot of these connections are... dubious at best.

He does interview former band members of the groups they were each with before Queen, which might be the only good bits of this book. But a lot of the people he talked to fall under “friends of friends” or “casual acquaintances” or “knew them for a few months decades ago” and not really people who had deep insights into Queen as people, which is fine but he’s presenting their information as if they did.

He also doesn’t give any qualifiers for the information presented - and unless it’s a direct quote from someone, he doesn’t even tell you where he’s getting 90% of the “facts” in his book from. There are no in-text citations, apart from those sporadic quotes, and no bibliography list anywhere in this book.

Instead, he just presents everything he’s writing as the absolute truth with next to nothing to back up what he’s saying, apart from cherry-picked quotes from people who have their own biases in these conversations to begin with. He writes about how many of these people fell out of touch with Queen for 30+ years, and there are several moments during reading where I was wondering whether these stories that were being quoted were true or if it’s the sort of thing that these people made up for the purpose of getting their name in print (especially stories about Freddie).

In the interest of fairness, he does admit in the two-page epilogue that he knows the people he talks to will have their own slant to their stories but he claims that all biographies are “a random assembly of thoughts and recollections” as if to absolve himself of the work of verifying anything being told to him, or at least putting in the effort to let the reader know that things cannot be verified rather than simply presenting everything as pure objective fact.

Authorial Bias and Band Portrayal

The author very much comes across as writing about the band to fit his preconceived ideas of who they are. There are definitely points in the book where he presents images of the band that almost seem like caricatures - Freddie made out to be the deeply self-loathing gay who everyone knew wasn’t actually straight, Brian to be the aloof controlling perfectionist - with little to no nuance given to their actions or stories.

But there are also a lot of moments when it seems like the author doesn’t like the band at all and that he’s writing this book in an attempt to tarnish their image?

Like I wrote in one of my earlier posts, he literally says that Freddie and Brian had the power in the band and that Roger and John had “token” roles. He also implies that Queen only started attributing songwriting credit to the band as a whole beginning with The Miracle to prevent singles royalties from going to Freddie’s estate when he died. The author also often feels the need to put the blame for failed friendships solely on the band, and on several occasions implies that they “betrayed” the people who helped them out in their early career.

Because of this, and because he conveniently doesn’t provide sources for anything he says, it makes me call into question basically everything he writes in this book. Are these stories and facts all accurate, or is he spinning the truth to fit the story he wants to tell?

It’s worth noting also that he apparently asked Brian, Roger, and John for their input, and they and all their official representatives declined. It’s always a red flag for me when someone writes about Queen without the band’s involvement, but the author presents this situation as if he had been deeply wronged by this and implies that any bias in the book was because he didn’t have “their” side of the story - and not because he simply failed to do any work to validate what 60+ strangers were telling him.

I also want to give a warning that how he writes about Freddie’s sexuality is painful in a lot of places. It’s a combination of ideas that don’t hold up well in the 25 years since publication (for example, he says in one place that since Freddie went to an all-boys boarding school it was obvious that he would end up being queer) as well as loose anecdotes shared by people who didn’t know him well, but all felt that they had to give input about his sexuality.

It feels like every time this author interviewed someone about Freddie, he felt obligated to include their “opinion” on whether it was obvious that Freddie was gay in the early 70s or not. It’s a heavy and strange focus that gets really uncomfortable to read about after a while, and one that I don’t think is really appropriate to have been included to the degree that it was.

Misinformation

The author flat-out puts wrong information into this book. I will admit that most of what I picked up on during my read is trivial, but it’s the sort of trivial that makes me question his authority to write anything accurately and also (I believe) has led to misinformation being spread in other Queen writings.

He says that Brian’s parents could have afforded to buy him a guitar, and that the building of the Red Special was essentially an act of ego. This is directly contrary to everything that Brian has ever said on the topic, which is that his family was too poor to afford to buy him a guitar and that the Red Special was built out of an act of necessity. (This also ties into the author’s biased writing of Brian as a controlling perfectionist.)

He gives incorrect dates for concerts and tour information, as can be proven by other first-hand sources like ticket stubs and tour posters. (For example, he says that Queen played six shows in New York’s Uris Theatre in 1974, when we know they only played five.) Again, this is a minor thing but if he’s getting details like this wrong why should I trust his broader stories or conclusions that have no other verifying sources to be correct?

I also think his book is the origination for the story about Brian getting gangrene due to a dirty vaccine needle in 1974. I have a problem with this claim in that I don’t think it’s actually true, but this book is now the earliest source of the story that I’ve seen by over a decade. However since the author doesn’t cite anything in this book, I have no idea how he found this information (or whether he made it up himself).

I also suspect that this is the book that Mick Rock copied information from when compiling the timeline in his book Classic Queen, which was published 12 years later in 2007. Mick Rock not only copies the gangrene story (again, with no further information or citations given) but also includes a very specific reference to Brian complaining about not feeling well while on tour on April 21st, 1974 - a date which is also specifically referenced in The Early Years, again without any citation for where this information came from.

No one takes Mick Rock seriously as a good source for Queen information (beyond info about the photo sessions themselves, which is about the only thing within his scope of expertise). Now it seems like he might have copied those “facts” from this book, which means we might very well have a situation of one questionable book being copied by another until misinformation and lies get assumed to be true just because they’re in more than one place now, never mind that none of this is getting backed up by anything concrete.

Tiny details because I’m big mad about this book just in general

Maybe this is just my copy (which is a physical book, not a digital copy) but there are a lot of typos in this book. Mike Grose becomes Mike Crouse from one paragraph to the next. Words are misspelled, punctuation is missing... It’s a little jarring to see in a book that was actually physically printed up, and makes me wonder if this went through any sort of editing process whatsoever.

Conclusions, or something of the sort?

I need to admit here that I am very angry about this book, because particularly in the later chapters I think the author starts speculating about band dynamics and things from later in their career in a way that is entirely wrong and inappropriate.

However, for the most part, I did enjoy the first part of this book. Roger’s and John’s early chapters seemed to be fine (and from what I’ve been told, the information in Roger’s chapters is backed up in other, better researched, sources). The book started falling apart for me around Brian’s and Freddie’s chapters, though, and as it progressed it just kept going off the rails.

I’m actually really frustrated and disappointed by this, because there’s a lot in this book that reads like it could be true. There’s a lot here that sounds very believable, that seems to align with what others have said about the band, and that I didn’t blink twice at until the cracks started showing up and everything got called into question.

There’s nothing exactly wrong with writing a “biography” based solely on loose anecdotes, especially given that this was written in 1995 shortly after Freddie’s death and before a lot of the more contemporary sources had come out (like Brian’s books and the things him and Roger have said in more recent years).

But I do think that the author has a responsibility for doing some vetting of these stories, either by trying to verify what’s been said or making it apparent to the reader that some of the information is hearsay or has to be taken with a grain of salt. The Early Years doesn’t do that, though. This book is presenting itself as a labor of love from a tired, dedicated author who has toiled over tracking down these stories while being rebuffed by the band itself, and at no point does anything come with a caveat about what’s being said.

The author wants you read this book and assume everything in it is true. The author wants you to feel sorry for him that he couldn’t interview Queen directly, and frankly it seems like he wants you to side-eye the official Queen story (or at least question their morals and motives) in favor of agreeing with the narrative that he presents.

And that’s the big issue that I have with this book. Most of the information in here could very well be true - but as a reader, you aren’t given the tools you need to judge that for yourself and instead are encouraged to sympathize with the author and his work, and to take what he says as objective fact and not look at any of it too deeply.

And because of that, the entire book falls apart for me. If I know that the author is printing small details of misinformation, and I don’t have any way of verifying what is being printed here, and the author starts presenting conclusions and narratives that run counter to everything else that has been said about Queen... how can I trust that anything in this book is accurate on it’s own?

#text #long post //#ramblings

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