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kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years

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Opposites Attract

Warren Worthington III x Female Reader

Request 1: Brooooo i’ve got a boyfriend was amazing! like you don’t understand how much i loved it. if you ever have time can you do like a continuation piece of fluff with warren and the reader or like when they met and became a couple? like same mutant and stuff

Request 2: Aww I loved the one shot with mother nature and Warren! I loved how her eyes turned pink, when she saw Warren! I'd like to know more about them. Could you give us a little fluffy glimpse into their relationship? Thank you, my dear! You're amazing! 💕

I also may make a little fluffy fic about these two later! (also i know I’ve used this gif before, oh well)

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of sex

Word Count: 7.9k

Ever since she was little, (Y/N) had a green thumb. Her parents had her play outside, help them do yard work, and she had her own collection of house plants from a young age.

It wasn’t until she started getting older that things started to change. Maybe be more than just a “green thumb.”

Leaves grew in her hair and vines wrapped around her legs. Her eyes started changing color based on her mood. She looked like a woodland creature.

With high hopes and her bags packed, she went to Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. To find someone like her, or just find a place to fit in.

Her eyes were green and she was ready to meet new people.

(Y/N) fit in great. Her roommate could control the weather, which made their room a true plant haven, and she had a whole group of friends— and if you asked, no one could find anything bad to say about her.

“She’s so sweet! She gave me some daisies when I was having a bad day.”

“(Y/N) helped me study for my math test. I got a 92 because of her.”

“(Y/N) threw a surprise party for my birthday. It was wonderful!”

Everyone liked her, and she liked everyone. Her eyes were almost always green and yellow— meaning she was happy and excited.

But one day they weren’t green and yellow.

“Alright, everyone. Your partner for the project is listed on the board. You can get to work.” (Y/N) looked over the list eagerly, excited for the inevitable mountain of work she’d be splitting with someone— it would be a good bonding experience.

Her eyes scanned the list until she spotted her name. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) & Warren Worthington.

(Y/N) glanced at him. Warren was pulling books out of his bag, earbuds in.

I don’t… I don’t know Warren that well. This will be a great opportunity for me. We have lots of mutual friends, so this should be easy.

“Hi.”

Warren paused his music and pulled out an earbud, “Hey.”

“We’re partners.”

“Right, right. Sit down.” She pulled up a chair and set her notebook on the desk. “So I was thinking since we have to talk about a political issue, we could do something that has lots of information available. Women’s rights, climate change, issues with the 1%, the problem with the rising trend of plant-based diets, mutant rights…” Warren didn’t say anything. He just listened. “We don’t have to do anything I listed, they’re just suggestions.”

“Okay… We could do something on mutant rights. That’s probably the easiest since we’re mutants.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah, that works with me.” She wrote down their paper topic and the due date in her notebook. “I’m not sure if we’ll get enough time in class to work this week so I’ll give you my number.” Warren got on his phone and opened a new contact.

He held it out to you, “Here, just put it in.”

You took it from his hands and typed in your name and number. You handed the phone back to him and moments later you got a text from an unknown number.

UNKNOWN: This is Warren.

(Y/N): Hi! This is (Y/N)

He didn’t text back. “Okay, so I’m gonna make a google doc and share it with you.” Warren nodded.

(Y/N) had a small, lopsided smile on her face. “You don’t talk much do you?”

“I talk.”

“Yeah, but— I meant… Never mind.”

Warren raised his eyebrows. He knew exactly what she meant. But people weren’t supposed to like him. Warren was evil and scary. Sure, not as much as he used to be, but the school’s Disney princess didn’t need an interest in him. Jubilee and Jean would just yell at him for it, plus a good 30% of the school shipped her with Kurt, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that.

As the bell rang, dismissing everyone from their class, Warren noticed (Y/N)’s eyes were slightly different as she left his desk. They had a slight bit of pink to them.

What does pink mean?

“I think he hates me.” (Y/N) announced as she face-planted onto Jubilee’s bed, letting vines grow and cover her like a blanket.

“Who?” Jubilee asked.

“Warren! We’re partners for the history paper thing and he, I dunno— he didn’t seem to want to be my partner.”

Jubilee looked at her sulking friend, “That’s it?”

“I don’t get it! We’re in the same friend group, we probably have similar interests, and I’ve never been rude to him.”

“He’s probably just tired. School is stressful, and I’m sure he just doesn’t want more work on top of everything he already has to do. I’m sure you have nothing to do with it.”

(Y/N) groaned into the pillow, “I can’t get a bad grade, and if he doesn’t like me then that makes things awkward in our friend group.”

Jubilee laid next to her, face up. “It’s Warren… he’s… he’s got some trauma and other issues. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually… Not everyone’s going to break down their walls after one conversation.”

(Y/N) groaned against and wrapped her makeshift leave blanket tight around her body.

“I’m going to get some food… Please take your vines with you when you leave.”

“Yes, mom.” (Y/N) mumbled.

“What’s her motive?” Warren asked Peter. Peter shrugged. “There’s no way she’d be nice to me just to be nice.”

“I dunno, man. She’s nice to everyone, and I’ve never heard one bad thing about her. She yelled at me and her eyes turned red once, but that’s about it.” He took a bite of his sandwich, “Why do you even care anyway?”

Kurt and Scott sat down with them, interrupting their conversation.

“Shh! Not now…” Peter waved them off to make them silent. “Answer my question, Worthington.”

“Cause I’m not a good person. (Y/N) shouldn’t want to try and be my friend. Too many people would get upset about it. Do you know how many people want her to date, Kurt? Tiffany Jones DMed me on Instagram telling me to not ruin that. Tiffany Jones! We’ve never even spoken to each other! I didn’t even know she followed me.”

Peter held back an eye roll. Warren was a good person, despite his past. Would he ever realize this? Probably not.

“Okay well, (Y/N) is just kind to everyone. It fits her whole “Mother Nature” vibe she’s got going on. Just don’t be a dick to her and you’ll be fine.”

“She wants to date me?” Kurt asked and his cheeks were slightly violet and flushed.

“No, Kurt,” Warren interjected. “People want you two to date. It’s like Stranger Things— some people wanted Nancy to date, Johnathan, others wanted her to date, Steve. They shipped her with someone. People do it with you and (Y/N), and it’s kinda weird but to each their own, I guess.”

“Oh... But why me? Why not you or someone else?”

“Because you’re both liked by everyone, and you’re nice to everyone. I’m like... Rodrick from Diary of a Wimpy kid; (Y/N) is a Disney princess. We wouldn’t mix.”

Peter and Scott tried holding back snickers, as Warren was kinda right. He was a punk emo with daddy issues, and he wasn’t half bad with a drum set.

“Don’t opposites attract?”

Warren waved him off, “That’s a myth.”

Kurt shrugged, “Andy and April from Parks and Rec worked out.”

“They’re fictional, and (Y/N) could date almost any guy here. Why would she want to date me?”

Silence. “She doesn’t. End of story. She’s just overly nice and I thought for a moment maybe someone was forcing her to be or she like, wanted to sleep with me or something.” Warren shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You sound like the plot of a Tame Impala song.” Warren threw a grape at Scott’s head, missing him by an inch or so. “Hey! Just because I’m calling you out for obsessing over a girl doesn’t mean you can get mad at me. I could have gotten hurt!”

“Dude, it’s a grape. Plus you have glasses on. You would have been fine,” Peter said.

“It’s the matter of the thing.” Peter rolled his eyes at his roommate’s dramatics.

“You know I wouldn’t purposely hurt you.” Warren reminded him.

“Still… You can’t get mad because a cute girl is being nice to you.”

“I’m not mad, I’m confused. There’s a difference.”

Scott nodded mocking him by agreeing, “Uh-huh… And in about a week you’ll be gushing over how amazing she is and how you’d do anything for her, and how you could just watch her do nothing all day.”

“That’s you. You described yourself.”

Scott raised his eyebrows as he played with the fry in his hand. “And? I know I’m whipped, I don’t care— You on the other hand…” Warren glared at him. Scott smirked and popped the fry into his mouth.

“What color were her eyes when you talked to her?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know, uh, green? Aren’t they almost always green?”

Scott nodded, and Peter continued talking. “Yeah, but I was just curious. If she really didn’t want to be nice to you just because then maybe her eyes would have been like brown or something— I dunno. There’s a million different options.”

As Peter was going on and on about (Y/N)’s eyes changing color, Warren’s mind started to drift off to their interaction in class.

Her eyes were green, but they weren’t pure green…

“You don’t talk much do you?”

Warren’s eyes met hers, “I talk.”

“Yeah, but— I meant… Never mind.”

Her eyes were pink. Only for a little while, and Warren almost thought he imagined it— but he didn’t. There was no way.

But what did pink mean?

“What does it mean if her eyes turn pink? Like a millennial pink sort of.”

Peter furrowed his brows as he thought for a moment, “You know… I don’t know… I don’t think her eyes have ever turned pink before.”

“Oh.” Warren frowned a little. He was expecting Peter to know, or at least have a vague idea.

Warren was showering when his phone dinged. He only had sound on when he wasn’t 100% available, in case of an emergency.

He held his arm out to grab his phone and keep it from getting wet.

(Y/N): Hey, Warren!

He sighed, it was just (Y/N). Nothing major.

Warren: What’s up?

(Y/N): Want to work on the paper together? Ororo ran to the store with Raven so my room is available.

Warren debated for a few seconds whether or not he should go. He didn't have anything else to do, and it wasn’t that late.

Warren: Sure. I’ll be down in about 20 mins.

(Y/N): *thumbs up emoji*

Warren smiled to himself before finishing his shower.

(Y/N) tried to make the room look presentable as possible, which was hard to do with all the plants everywhere— on her side and Ororo’s.

There was a knock on the door. (Y/N) glanced in the mirror, making sure she didn’t look too frazzled. Then she opened the door to let Warren in.

His hair was damp and he smelt like a vanilla candle, he wore sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. One large enough to hide his wings in, so there were no holes cut in the back.

“Hi! I hope wasn’t interrupting you or anything…”

He shut the door behind him, “No, I was just in the shower.” He glanced around the room. Warren had been in it before, most of the time to hang out with Ororo, but he never really paid attention to (Y/N)’s half. Her side of the room was covered in fairy lights and plants. A lot of plants.

“Sit wherever you want. Just kinda ignore all the plants—“ Some of the vines hanging around her bed moved as she sat down.

“Okay.” He sat down in the desk chair.

“So… I got a couple of news articles dealing with mutant rights— one about the adoption laws varying from state to state… another about some of the protests in Chicago due to the girl with gills getting fired from her job…”

Surprisingly, Warren and (Y/N) finished their paper sooner than they thought they would. “I’m gonna send it to Jubilee so she can give criticism since she’s in honors.”

“Sounds good.” (Y/N) nodded, typing away on her laptop.

Then Warren’s stomach growled. He blushed.

“Sorry— I didn’t eat after training…”

“You skipped dinner?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t that hungry and I took a shower. I didn’t really eat lunch either… I’ve been kinda preoccupied—“

“What the hell?! You have to eat! Your body needs nutrition! You of all people should know that— you’re like, 90% muscle.”

“It’s just one time.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on— we finished our paper. You’re getting something to eat.”

(Y/N) held Warren’s hand as she dragged him into the kitchen. They received a few weird stares, but it didn’t concern her.

How could Warren be so careless?

“Sit.” She pointed to a bar stool. “I’ll make something.” Warren nodded and sat down.

“Do you have any food allergies?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Great, I’ll make something basic.” (Y/N) looked through the fridge before settling on the cheese.

Grilled cheese is easy enough. Plus I can make myself one.

She turned on a stovetop and put the buttered bread on the pan.

She grabbed two plates from a cabinet using the vines from her arms— they extended to reach and wrap around the plates and set them on the table. Warren watched in awe. It looked effortless— kind of like when telepaths move things with their mind, they make it seem like anyone could do it.

“Does it take effort? Manipulating plants?”

(Y/N) shook her head as she set Warren’s sandwich on a plate, and got her’s onto the pan. “Not the vines on my body. Other plants, though, it depends. If I’m just moving a vine or tree branch out of my way, that’s easy, but to have a sapling grow into a fully formed oak tree? That takes a bit more energy. Sometimes in my sleep I accidentally cause plants to grow— I’ll wake up next to an apple tree, or even a pumpkin or watermelon.”

“Really?” He was surprised.

“Yeah. Also, the weather can affect me too. If it’s sunny out and the plants are thriving, I’m usually more awake and can do more without feeling weak, but if it’s cold and cloudy or even snowing, it takes a bit more effort.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were a vibrant green and yellow, you could tell she was excited to tell someone about her mutation. She looked genuinely happy to talk about it.

“That’s really cool. I didn’t know you could do all that.”

He swore her eyes flashed a bit of pink again, but it could have been the lighting.

“No one really asks… and besides, you can’t really use plants in the danger room.”

“I bet you could…” Warren offered. “If you found a way.”

She glanced down at her sandwich, “Maybe…”

“Can I ask you something else?”

She looked up and nodded. Her eyes definitely had some pink now. Warren didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to ask.

“What’s up with you and Kurt?”

“Oh— Oh, um, I mean it’s nothing.” Her eyes were purple as she spoke, “People started some rumors after I helped Xavier as his TA for Kurt’s English class, and no one wanted to read for Juliet so I read for her and people decided to ship us. We’re not actually dating.”

“That was a while back… people still haven’t let that go?”

She shook her head, “Plus, people think ‘Oh, Kurt’s so innocent, and (Y/N) is too. They’d make a great couple.’ Which is dumb because guys and girls can be similar and just be friends.”

“Yeah, but a lot of people want you guys together. I had a girl DM me on Instagram to not get in the way of it.”

(Y/N)‘s eyes widened in surprise, “What? Why?”

“I dunno. I guess she thought I’d pull off some like, fuckboy moves or something.”

“But you’re not a fuckboy! You haven’t even dated anyone since you came to school here— and I know that’s by choice. There’s at least twenty girls here who’d love to have your tongue down their throat.”

Warren blinked at her bluntness. He was not expecting that. “I mean… you’re not wrong…” He had a faint idea of who some of the girls were, but he figured ignorance was bliss. If he knew for sure who they were, Warren wasn’t sure he could look them in the eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a good number of guys interested in you… why aren’t you dating one of them?”

“I don’t want to. I mean sure, there’s tons of cute guys, but I just don’t think it would work out. Plus, too many people would kill them if they weren’t Kurt,” (Y/N) joked.

Warren smiled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He got up, carrying his plate to the sink.

“I’ve also never had a boyfriend before.”

He looked at her, curious. “That can’t be true. You’ve never had a boyfriend before?”

“Nope. I’ve kissed people before and stuff… but, I dunno…”

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing… Guys can be dumb as shit sometimes.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Trust me, I know.”

Warren rose an eyebrow while setting (Y/N)’s plate into the sink.

“Scott, a prime example of a dumb boy in a relationship.”

Warren snickered, “Super smart but dumb as shit check!”

(Y/N) shook her head, pretending to be disappointed but she had a smile on her face, “God we’re so mean.”

“A little, but it’s Scott… a little harmless teasing won’t hurt.”

“I guess so.”

Warren washed his hands and dried them with a towel. “Wanna go back up to my room? Or do something else?... It’s only 7:00.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Peter and Kurt were in Warren’s room, which he shared with Kurt, when he entered with (Y/N).

“And where have you two been?” Peter asked, pretending to act like a stern and concerned parent.

“We finished our paper and I made grilled cheese.”

“Grilled cheese, huh? No… ulterior motives?” Peter dragged out, just to tease Warren about his disconcerts from before. Warren flipped him off while (Y/N) wasn’t looking.

“What have you guys been up to?” (Y/N) asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Not much. Jubilee asked us to help her organize the third grader’s field trip to the zoo for extra credit from McCoy.”

“Oh my gosh— I said I’d help her with that—“ (Y/N) looked at her phone and mumbled a curse. “I ignored her message…”

“Just tell her you were busy, I’m sure she won’t mind.” Warren shrugged.

“But I feel bad for ignoring her, plus the extra credit—“

“That you don’t need. Don’t feel bad, Jubilee forgets to respond to stuff all the time.” Warren walked over to his closet. “Are you gonna be okay if I take my shirt off?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock and confusion, “Why— What— What, why are you stripping?”

She was sure her eyes were fully purple, I mean, come on! What kind of random question is ‘Are you okay with me taking my shirt off?’ Plus they were in Warren’s bedroom!

“I just don’t want to keep my wings restrained if I don’t have to… I usually don’t in my room, I’m shirtless most of the time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed magenta for a moment as the thought of a shirtless Warren flashed through her brain for a second. She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, go ahead. I don’t mind.” He nodded and removed his hoodie off, tossing it on his desk chair.

“Well, Kurt…” Peter awkwardly spoke up. “I think Jubilee wanted our help with the field trip… And with some other stuff…”

“Vhat?”

“Remember?” He asked, motioning to (Y/N) and Warren with his eyes.

“Oh! Oh Yeah! Ve… Ve gotta go.” Kurt waved.

“Have fun, you guys!” Peter grabbed Kurt’s hand and they disappeared with a puff of smoke.

“Do they think— because we’re not— I don’t— You don’t—“

“Relax, (Y/N).” Warren chuckled. “That’s just Peter being Peter.”

“I suppose so…” She grew a flower in the palm of her hand and picked at the petals.

Warren plopped down next to her, “What do you want to do?”

She shrugged, “I’m not sure… We could… We could play never have I ever.”

Warren scoffed, “Never have I ever, with only two people?”

“It’s fun. More... intimate. Ororo and I used to do it a lot when she had trouble sleeping her first few nights here.”

“Are you trying to sleep with me?” He teased.

“What? No! No, no… Why are you laughing?”

“I was just joking. And you’re reaction was funny. Like we’d ever sleep together.”

She glanced at him, in a bit of disbelief of what he said. “Hmm?”

“I don’t think— Never mind.”

(Y/N) nodded awkwardly, trying to make herself not feel awkward. She didn’t want to make the situation weird, “I’ll start the game. Never have I ever ditched class.”

“I have.”

“I know, Jubilee tells me when you two skip to go thrift shopping or to the music store downtown.”

“You should join us sometime— Never have I ever cheated on a test.”

“I did once. One time! In third grade, I wasn’t sure how to spell vacuum so I looked at the girl next to me and copied what she put.”

Warren faked a gasp, “You trouble maker!”

“It was third grade!” (Y/N) tried to be defensive, but couldn’t hide the smile adorning her face as Warren teased. “My turn. Never have I ever… never have I ever… had a crush on a friend’s significant other.”

Warren hesitated with his answer. He didn’t really want to tell (Y/N). He didn’t have a crush anymore, and the girl knew— but her boyfriend didn’t. If he found out, Warren was dead meat.

“Who was it?”

“What?”

“The girl you had a crush on…”

“I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“You were slow at answering. If you didn’t like anyone you wouldn’t need time to answer.”

Warren shot a dirty look at (Y/N). “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just curious—“

“Can we just forget it? She knows, and I don’t like her anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah… It’s uh, it’s your turn.”

Warren didn’t say anything.

“You can ask me whatever you want. No matter how personal it seems.”

“Alright… Are you a virgin?”

I did say he could ask me anything… Plus I did ask him a really personal question… “Yeah.”

“Oh…” Duh! She’s never had a boyfriend before. What kind of question was that, dumbass?

“I’ve never been in a relationship or had sex— I’m not a prude though, I’ve kissed people before. At like, spin the bottle at a party or something.”

“I respect that… Relationships are messy and honestly sometimes don’t seem worth it.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, fiddling with another flower she grew. “Kissing isn’t that great anyway.”

Warren involuntarily licked his lips, “What do you mean?”

“It’s either too short and awkward and you bump noses, or like, there’s too much force and pressure to it and the other person collides their teeth with your lips.”

“Jesus! Who are you kissing?”

(Y/N) chuckles darkly and shakes her head, “You don’t want to know.”

Warren smiled, “Yikes.”

They both laughed together.

When the laughter died down, Warren asked the dumbest question possible.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was quiet, soft— different from how it was moments before.

“What?”

“I’ve been told I’m a good kisser…” He awkwardly explained. “I could show you… Change your mind?”

“Change my mind?”

“It could stay between us… It doesn’t even need to have any meaning behind it.” Warren scooted himself so he was sitting face to face from (Y/N). He looked up at her eyes trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her eyes flashed from yellow to pink, then purple. He wasn’t sure what the colors all meant. He made a mental note to learn what they all stood for.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nodded, “Change my mind.”

Warren cupped her face in his hand. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yeah…”

“Alright.” Warren tilted his head to the left a little, to prevent his nose from bumping into (Y/N)’s. He pressed his lips gently against hers. Warren used his other hand to cup the rest of her face. Their lips moved together in perfect motion. A warm feeling formed in Warren’s stomach, and he carefully removed his lips from (Y/N)’s.

It was rather brief, but enough to show (Y/N) what she’d been missing.

“Wow…” Her eyes were pinker than before. Warren’s face was flushed, but he ignored it.

“Wow?”

“Yeah, um… wow. That was… That was nice.”

“Mhmm…” Warren wasn’t sure what to say. Yeah, he was a good kisser, but the kiss didn’t mean anything. It was just showing (Y/N) that not everyone sucks at kissing. The pink in her eyes just meant she was flustered and nothing else. She wasn’t going to crush on Warren, and he wasn’t going to crush on her.

(Y/N) left after that. She didn’t know what to do. She’d heard rumors about Warren— saying he was a player, a heartthrob, didn’t care about anyone but himself— (Y/N) couldn’t find that to be true. Sure, if she caught feelings she would get hurt because Warren didn’t like her back… but he wasn’t an asshole.

She sighed, slipping into pajamas. It was easy for everyone else, (Y/N) had no complications with anyone else, everyone liked her and she liked them. She’d only gotten mad at someone once and it was Peter… but Warren… Warren was different.

Something drew (Y/N) in, and she couldn’t figure out what. Perhaps, despite their differences, they could be good friends.

As she got under her covers, she sprouted some poppies to help her sleep.

The paper was a huge success! Warren and (Y/N) got a 98% on it.

“We should celebrate!”

“What for? You did most of the work.”

“That’s not true, and besides, I’ve had a tiresome week and I want to relax.”

Warren shrugged, “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

“Why are we in the attic?”

“I thought we could watch a movie or something. Ororo and I have been using it as a greenhouse of sorts, but we haven’t grown enough plants yet.”

“Yet?!” Warren gaped. The attic was like 80% plant, 20% building, and here (Y/N) was, saying there’s no such thing as too many plants.

She smiled, setting down her laptop and some blankets, “Duh!” (Y/N) messed with her laptop for a few minutes before pulling up Netflix.

“You can pick something out.”

“Anything?” (Y/N) nodded. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” She was off to the side, messing with a plant. “If you don’t see anything you like, I have Hulu too.”

“Netflix is fine.”

(Y/N) came back and sat next to Warren. “Find something good?”

“Uh, yeah— yeah.” She peered over his shoulder to see.

“Ooo! The Addam’s family! I love that movie.”

“I haven’t seen it since I was a kid. I barely remember the plot.”

“Oh, it’s so good! You’re gonna love it.”

(Y/N) pressed play and got comfortable under the covers. Warren did the same.

The movie was good. Warren really enjoyed it.

“What’d you think?” (Y/N) was excited in asking him.

“It was good! Like, really good.”

“Yeah! I really liked Gomez and Morticia and their relationship, even if it is unrealistic… Also for the 90s, the effects for Thing were really good!” Warren nodded, slightly frowning when she talked about Gomez and Morticia’s relationship.

Is that really what she thinks? Is that why she’s single?

Why— Why do I even care?! It’s not like I like her or anything.

“Yeah, yeah… We should uh, get going—“ He glanced at the laptop, “—before people ask where we are.”

“Right! Right… I can get it, no biggie.”

“Sure you don’t want any help?” (Y/N) shook her head. Warren couldn’t help but notice she had a shift in demeanor. Her eyes were fully purple, with pink slowly fading around the pupil. He kept quiet and followed (Y/N) out of the attic.

“Are you going to the mall Friday?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” Scott wanted the group to do something fun for once— plus it was one of the few options Xavier approved of. “Are you?”

“Uh-huh. Peter suggested we go see a movie or something.”

“Yeah, that could be fun. Scott will wanna hit up the arcade but that’s typical.”

They stopped at her door— (Y/N) obviously struggled to open it due to the unwieldy stuff in her arms. “Here— I got it,” Warren opened the door and let her go forward.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll see you later.”

“You’re leaving?” Warren felt his chest ache, but he dismissed it as nothing. He ate at Five Guys with Jubilee and Kurt the other day.

“Yeah, I have some homework… Sorry…”

“You’re okay. I’ll… see you later.”

Warren smiled and said, “Bye,” before shutting the door behind him. When he was gone, (Y/N) sat down and leaned against the door and sighed.

She didn’t want him to leave, but she didn’t know what to do or what to say— she wanted to kiss him again.

No— You can’t kiss him. Warren doesn’t like you.

She pushed the dirty thought aside and flopped onto her bed, covering herself in ivy to lay and let the sun come through the window.

Warren was in Hank’s lab, just for a medical update. Alex was there as well, as he’s never too far away from Hank.

“Any trouble with your wings?”

“Not really. The feathers grow back metal and they’re heavy. They’re easier to clean than my old ones, but I sometimes miss a spot.”

Hank nodded, skimming some papers. “Do you want someone to help you clean your wings?”

“No! No way,” Warren rose his voice defensively. “I’m not comfortable.”

“Maybe if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend to help out,” Alex offered.

Warren rolled his eyes, “Well, I don’t have one and there’s no one here I want to date anyway.”

Alex smiled to himself, “You mean there’s no one here who you think likes you, so you pretend to not be interested.”

“Since when did you become my psychiatrist?” Warren squinted.

“Since your movie date.”

Hank glanced at Alex for a moment before going back to his paperwork, “What movie date?”

“The one he and (Y/N) had yesterday—“

“It wasn’t a date. She just wanted to hang out some more since we finished our paper for English.”

“Mhmm…” Alex didn’t believe it.

“I’m serious! We are literally in the same friend group, we’re going to hang out together.”

“What Peter’s been telling me is different.”

Warren almost scoffed in disbelief, “You’re really going to trust Peter over me on this?”

“No, but Peter told me you asked what it means when her eyes turn pink.”

Hank stopped his work and was fully listening to the blondes argue— “(Y/N)’s eyes have never been pink before, well, not many shades of pink. What was it?”

“Um… It was only for a moment,” Warren mumbled. “It could have been the lighting or whatever…”

“No, no, this is really important. I like to keep a note of what each of her colors mean. Even if you just saw her eyes flash, I need to know when, why, and what shade of pink.”

“It’s happened a few times, but never for very long… it’s usually a millennial pink… Um, I don’t think it’s happened around anyone else before because no one else knew what I was talking about when I asked…”

“How often have her eyes turned pink? What were you guys doing when they turned pink?”

Warren thought back to all the times he swore her eyes turned pink. Nothing huge… Just when we were in class or whenever we’ve hung out this week. Nothing too special— Oh.

Warren realized something. Something he maybe shouldn’t have.

Her eyes were fully pink when we kissed… I— I can’t tell Hank and Alex that! They wouldn’t understand and they’d think we’re into each other. Which we are not… Well, I don’t think I’m into (Y/N), but now I’m not sure if she likes me or not.

“Just during class, when we’re alone, just like, whenever we’ve hung out this week. I don’t think it means anything really.”

“You never know, Warren.”

He nodded, “Right, right… Am I uh, am I free to go?”

“Yeah, you’re fine, you’re wings are fine. You can access your medical file if you want the details.”

“Great. Thank you.” Warren hopped off the bed and walked out.

What am I going to do?! (Y/N) might like me! Now I have to put in effort and not seem like a total burnout around her. She’s got high expectations and standards and I’m fucked!

Wait… Warren sat there, confused. Why did he care if (Y/N) liked him?

If I accidentally break her heart, everyone will actually kill me and... I kind of give a shit for once. That’s all…

Warren got his phone out and opened his messages. He opened his conversation with (Y/N). The last thing she sent him was an old picture of Alex she found in the library.

He typed out hey, ready to send it, but his thumb hovered over the little arrow. What would he even say to her? What if she didn’t respond? What if she actually hated him and that’s what the pink meant? He turned his phone off and set it on his bed. Warren flopped onto his mattress and buried his face into his pillow.

(Y/N) was studying with the other girls. They were reviewing for McCoy’s bio test and she was busy writing down answers for her study guide.

“Who’s going to the mall Friday?” Jubilee asked out of the blue.

Jean started listing off people, “Scott, Peter, Kurt, us—“

“Warren’s going! He told me,” (Y/N) spoke up.

“He is?” Jubilee asked. “He didn’t say anything to me.”

“I asked him yesterday.” (Y/N) had a smile on her face.

“When?” Ororo got out a pack of gum and offered Jean a piece.

“We were up in the attic watching a movie.”

Jubilee eyed her, “You guys did what?”

“We just watched the Addams family. Warren and I are friends.” (Y/N)’s tone was slightly defensive.

“Your eyes are pink,” Jean stated.

“What?” (Y/N) quickly looked at herself using her phone’s front camera. “Oh my god—it’s— they’ve— they’ve never been pink before. I don’t know what—“

“Think for two seconds. Who are we talking about?”

Jean! I don’t— I don’t like Warren! Not as a boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend and he doesn’t want to date anyone.

She smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I just really like the fact we’re friends now. That’s all. I’m not in love with him or anything…”

What if my subconscious does love Warren? I doubt it. I think I would know if I was in love.

“And anyway, it’s just a coincidence. They’ve never been pink before so I’m sure finally being friends with Warren just—“

“They’ve been pink before,” Ororo spoke up.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock. “What? When?”

“I don’t know when exactly, but Peter told me Warren was asking about it a few days ago.”

(Y/N) was trying not to freak out. “Why was he asking?”

“Didn’t say, but I bet he saw your eyes flash pink or something.”

“Oh my god…” (Y/N) was horrified. Warren knew. He knew! He knew how she felt and he would probably never speak to her again or break her heart and (Y/N) couldn’t live with either of those options. She didn’t want the first person she’d ever had a real crush on to find out. Warren didn’t want to date anyone! He told her this, right before they kissed in his bedroom…

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and groaned. She didn’t know what to do— by this time tomorrow, everyone would know she likes Warren. The embarrassment, the rejection, the humiliation, the—

“Hey, babe. Here’s your textbook you left in my room.”

(Y/N) looked up and saw Scott giving a book back to Jean. She looked at his face.

Of course! Scott wears glasses all the time so it’s harder to know what he’s thinking!

“Scott—”

He turned to face (Y/N). “Yeah?”

“Do you have a spare pair of glasses?”

“Um… I just have my visor. Why are you asking?”

She waved him off, “Never mind. Jubilee, can I borrow your sunglasses?”

“Sure, why?”

“I need to cover my eyes. Just for a while. Until this whole, “pink eye” thing stops happening.”

“Pink eye?” Scott asked, furrowing his brows.

“It’s— It’s nothing, trust me. Warren and I are becoming closer and I’m just happy.”

“Your eyes turn pink when you’re around Warren?” Scott was trying to hide his emotions, for his mind was zooming with thoughts.

“And when we talk about him,” Jubilee teased.

“You know,” Scott pondered, “He was asking about that the other day…”

(Y/N) tensed. Warren had to know. There was no way he didn’t. “He was?”

“Yeah. What does it mean?”

“It means—”

“—It means,” Jubilee cut her off, “(Y/N)’s got a thing for Warren.”

(Y/N) shook her head, “I do not!”

“Yeah, you do,” Ororo said offhandedly.

“It doesn’t matter, okay? I just need some sunglasses to hide my eyes so people don’t know what I’m feeling all the time. Have you ever thought maybe I don’t like being an open book?” The last sentence came out harsher than expected. Everyone was shocked, how could (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the flower child, be so angry?

(Y/N) looked down, embarrassed from raising her voice, “I didn’t mean to snap at you guys…”

Jubilee spoke over her, “It’s okay. I’ll get you my sunglasses.”

Everything was darker, but that was the purpose of sunglasses, to block out the sun. (Y/N) didn’t mind much, but it was sometimes hard to read text on the board and her eyes hurt by the third period.

“How do you do this every day?” She asked Scott as they walked down the halls to their next class.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Oh…” (Y/N) glances down at her feet wide-eyed with guilt. “Right…”

“I know you’re doing it for other reasons, but I think it’s cool you’re wearing sunglasses all day. I don’t feel alone.”

“I can— I can still see color though.”

“Yeah, but not as well. Sometimes I feel lonely when everyone talks about colors— the sunset, the fruit at the grocery store— hell, I even miss seeing the green grass! The grass!”

“That must be hard.” (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel pity, even though she knew that Scott didn’t want it. “I don’t think I could ever imagine living in just red…”

“Sometimes…” Scott sheepishly began, “Jean uses her powers and I can see color for a little bit, but it’s from her point of view, and it’s hard for her. She can only do it for a minute or two, and I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Aww,” (Y/N) cooed. “You’re so sweet.”

“Shut up!” A blush covered Scott’s cheeks and he got quiet for a moment.

“So you and Warren, huh?”

(Y/N) groaned, “Why am I talking about this with you?”

“Because I’m your only guy friend in a relationship,” Scott offered up as a question.

She huffed. Scott was right. “Fair point… It’s just… I don’t know… I don’t think he likes me back—which is fine— I just don’t want him to be uncomfortable when he finds out I like him.”

Scott furrowed his eyebrows, “When he finds out?”

“Pink eyes,” (Y/N) deadpanned. “remember?”

“Right, right… but how do you know he doesn’t like you back?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “We can’t have a telepath in our relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jean probably knew you liked her the whole time before you dated.”

“Hold on! She never read my mind— we made a promise—“

(Y/N) crosses her arms and stopped for a moment, “Mmhmm. All I’m saying is, there’s no mind reader between me and Warren. I can’t tell, and he doesn’t know yet… besides, he told me himself, we wouldn’t work out. We’re too different, and too many people want me to date, Kurt…”

“Opposites attract.”

“No, they don’t… At least that’s what Warren said…”

“Okay, listen— Warren is the dumbest person I know.”

(Y/N)’s mouth gaped, “Warren’s not dumb, he’s in two AP classes and speaks multiple languages.”

“What—“ Scott squinted, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You said Warren was dumb. I said he wasn’t.” (Y/N) awkwardly crossed her arms.

“What I meant was, Warren’s being stupid. Thinking he’s not good enough for anyone, how he thinks he’s too punk for you. It’s obvious!”

“What is?”

“Warren likes you.”

(Y/N) stood there, in shock. She didn’t know what to do.

Warren liked her. Allegedly.

“How— How do you know that?”

“You can just tell. It’s obvious.”

Maybe… “Oh…”

A teacher down the hall scolded some students for loitering in the hall. “We better get to class,” Scott motioned to the kids with his head.

“Um, yeah. We should get going…” (Y/N)’s eyes flashed to purple.

Warren saw (Y/N) in the afternoon. She had on sunglasses, and her hair was slightly messy. She looked hungover, but Warren knew that wasn’t her, partying her nights away, (Y/N) was the perfect princess— and Warren? Warren was John Bender from the breakfast club, except he wasn’t in a John Hughes movie, and he didn’t get the girl and have a half-assed happy ending.

But back to (Y/N).

“Hey, Shades.”

“Hi.” She was curt. Did Warren do something wrong?

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah!” She seemed nervous. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re wearing sunglasses…” He pointed out. “Inside…”

“Yeah?.... I’m just… I just…” She struggled to come up with an answer.

“Hungover?” Warren suggested.

“Pfft… No. I don’t… I don’t really…”

Warren nodded, “Right, right. I don’t really either, but I used to so…”

“I’m trying to hide my eyes.”

Warren turned face to face with (Y/N), blinking in surprise.

“Why?”

“Reasons…”

“What kind of reasons?”

“I just don’t want people to read me like a book…” (Y/N) was lying. Partially.

“Oh… I mean, not everyone knows what your eye colors mean.”

“Most people do. And if they don’t they ask.”

Warren winced. She knew he asked about the pink eyes. She was going to think of him as some nosy, pitiful, boy with daddy issues. “People are gonna think you’re hungover.”

“Three already asked.”

Warren smiled to himself, he found it almost funny. “Why’re you trying to hide your emotions?”

“I like someone.”

The three words froze in his mind.

(Y/N) liked someone. Someone who was normal, probably. Someone the student body approved up. Somebody who hasn’t killed people and looks like a nightmare.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t see the concern in her eyes when his face obviously fell.

“Yeah. I’ll um, I’ll see you later.”

Warren nodded awkwardly, “Yeah. See you later…”

The mall trip was awkward. (Y/N) had her glasses on still and half of her friends didn’t know why, and Warren was sulking because of (y/N)’s mystery lover.

“So, (Y/N)...” Peter drawled out. “What’s with the sunglasses? You trying to copy Scott?”

She laughed a little at his joke. “Not really…” Peter raised his eyebrows, silently pressing for details. “I just don’t want people to see my eyes. That’s all.”

“Why? Is it because they’re… pink?”

Damnit, Peter! Warren cursed to himself. You had to bring it up. Rub it in my face that the Princess found her Prince Charming.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” (Y/N) glanced at Warren for a moment as he listened to Jubilee ramble on about some girl she met at a thrift store.

“Why?... Because you’re in looove?”

(Y/N) swatted his arm. “I am not!”

“Oh, but I know that's not true.” Peter pouted and bat his eyes.

“Fuck off.”

“Woah! Didn’t know Snow White knew such naughty words.”

Warren grimaced, Peter was pushing her buttons and Warren wanted to strangle him, but he wasn’t that guy anymore.

Borderline mullet, feathery white wings, and an adrenaline rush with the ability to punch everyone within five feet in front of him.

Now he was a gang looking member, with trauma, and recovering from bad habits. Don’t mention that he was in love with Mother Nature.

Warren was so lost in his own words that he didn’t even notice Peter and (Y/N) bickering.

“Stop it—“

The glasses fell. And then the unexpected happened.

Jubilee stepped on the sunglasses. They cracked under her heel.

“Oh shit! Aw, man!” Jubilee didn’t even care, they were her glasses. She got them at five below for three dollars two years ago. Jubilee picked up the broken shades and looked them over.

“Oh well. They were cheap anyway.” Jubilee tossed the remains in the trash and didn’t even give it a second thought.

Warren looked at (Y/N) and they made eye contact. Her eyes flashed purple, maroon, and they settled on pink. Full-on rose gold, soft-blushing pink.

There were flowers in her hair and they retracted into buds— a defense mechanism— she was scared, but wouldn’t break away from him.

Everyone looked at them like one looks at a car wreck or a burning building.

Warren glared at them. “Alright, um, let’s go to Barnes and Noble…” Jubilee dragged everyone away, leaving Warre and (Y/N) behind.

“Were you hiding your feelings from me?”

She nodded, “I didn’t want you to know, though.”

It finally all clicked in Warren’s mind. She wanted to hide her emotions from him because she was into him, and everything he said about them “not being compatible, people don’t ship us, the kiss was only platonic”. “I get it.”

“I want you, but I…”

“I made up bullshit to push you away because I was scared… You’re way out of my league and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care…” She stepped closer to him. “I’d kiss you right now, but we’re in public…” Warren quickly cupped (Y/N)’s face and left a peck on her lips.

Even a quick kiss from Warren was better than anything from a boy at a crappy house party.

“Do you want to go to find our friends?”

“Yeah, yeah. We probably should.”

Warren wasn’t sure at what point her hand slipped into his and held on, but he didn’t move away either.

Something in one of the shop windows caught his eye though.

It was a book. Titled, Olympus Gods or something. It made a light go off in Warren’s mind, but he couldn’t figure it out.

What, why does— Then he saw a Harry Potter toy. The three-headed dog, Fluffy or something.

Who else had a three-headed dog?

“Hades…”

“Hmm?” She looked at Warren with confusion.

“Hades and Persephone— plant goddess and goth guy.”

She got the hint right away, and nudged his arm with her elbow, “Dork.”

Warren blushed, “Yeah, yeah… just shut up,” He joked.

#warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x reader #warren x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington #angel x reader #angel archangel #archangel x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #x-men x reader #x-men spinoff #hades #persephone #angel #archangel #ben jones x reader #ben jones

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alolanrain · 4 years

Text

I have this AM!au HC where Ash’s life was basic shit until he left Pallet Town.

Like I’m saying that his teachers and everyone else was up front in saying his mom was a “shit easy worse” for having two sons with the man who left her and that she’s also “a pathetic accused for a women” because she can’t keep Ash’s bastard father home with her. Shit gets worse when Silver is dumped at her door.

When Red becomes Kanto’s new Champion after ten years everyone in Pallet Town doesn’t call him a “real” Champion because he’s selective mute, autistic, and has ADHD. So like he’s not “normal” so that makes him not a “real” Champion. They even celebrate when Red disappears into Mount. Silver for like 2-3 years until Green, Blue, Gold, and Silver D R A G his ass back down and to Delia’s house.

Ash is also getting called a pathetic excuse of a kid/son. Just an absolute waste of space. Gary objectifys because that’s his damn brother-in-law but he gets pressured by everyone in town to start hating Ash. So he doesn’t really hate Ash but is to afraid to go against a whole ass town at the moment.

When Ash turns 5-6 that’s when shit gets REAL bad. He and Gary watch as their brothers and half the other Pokedexer’s are killed right in front of them, by Giovanni personally and his main group of grunts/admins. They make it out alive but everyone in their family is dead except Delia/Professor Oak/and Daisy.

Everyone in town RAMPS the hate up for Ash and Delia. They don’t physically touch Delia but they do to Ash when at school. So now Ash is getting beaten up by older kids and his hands slapped by rulers by the teachers. At the age of 8 he’s pulled out of school and personally taught by Professor Oak, which puts a damper on his research but it’s completely fine by him because Professor Oak doesn’t want to see this kid become into the next new villain whe he leaves town at the age of 10.

Professor Oak purposely gives Ash Pikachu, even when Ash is the first kid at his labs like 3 hours before the initial “wave” of kids, even his own Grandson is still sleeping in bed, knowing full DAMN well that Pikachu is extremely higher leveled then the rest of his yearly supply of starters. For once Professor Oak claps Ash on the shoulder, and instead of reminding Ash to take the league slow and to waste as much time before inevitable coming “home”, Oak tells Ash to burn the league. Burn through Kanto like Red and all the others did. Make your brother proud by shredding every trainer in your path and come home a Champion so you can shove it into everyone’s face and tell them just how fucking WRONG they are.

Ash is already acting like an over exerted collage student who could be killed by God itself and would only say “took you long enough, motherfucking asshole” at the age of ten. So he stares at Professor Oak and wordlessly takes the Pokeball, also full knowing by the sticker on the ball that it’s not a normal starter, and takes the words to heart.

Like I said before, Ash is basically a human God even after the age of ten and the only reason he doesn’t take over the world from there is because it’s too much paperwork and physical work. But that doesn’t mean Ash tears through the league anyways and beats Lance on live television. Eyes burning bright and uncharacteristically scathingly angry and motivation to watch Lance’s team burn to the ground. Lance just raise’s an eyebrow at the last name of this over powered boy and nods his head. He would have guessed that Red’s little brother would be more powerful then the dead Champion. He’s just more shocked that Ash refuses the Champion title on live television but turns towards the camera and calls out a good chunk of people from his home town and tells them to fuck off and eat shit now that they’ve been provin hella wrong.

Now THAT makes Lance very curious and he dives deep into Ash’s Home town history. Disgustingly finding all this aggression towards Ash’s family and how unorthodox the entire school system is. He personally comes down to Pallet Town because he’s “curious about the town Ash came from” and everyone does a 180 when Lance is there. Talking nice things about Ash’s family and all that. Lance gets to the school just when a teacher is starting to berate another kid about how “worthless” they are because they have asthma and ADHD and how they’ll never be “normal and perfect like everyone else in town”.

Lance naturally acts out in anger and immediately calls the school to shut down and basically black lists the entire staff. This also forces parents to now shuttle their kids over to Viridian’s schools now and that staff had the heads up from Lance about everything. And their LIVID. They all loved Green Oak as their old Gym leader and just how dare they trash his husband and his family through the mud. The shit the kids try to start there gets shut down fast and hard. The school system in Kanto as a whole gets revaluated and more cracks in the system are sewn closed and stuff a lot of schools were ignoring are getting reinforced.

This is all happening while Ash is away with Misty and Tracey, he tried telling Brock that shit would burn between him and Professor Ivy but no Brock didn’t want to listen to him, and is completely blissfully unaware of how Pallet Town is going up in flames because now a shit ton of people are complaining how it was unfair that Champion Lance shut down their only schools and now they have to shuttle their kids AAALLLL the way to Viridian when their kids are now getting Bullied!

Hint: they kinda are but aren’t really. Other people aren’t taking their shit like teachers used to do in Pallet.

Delia and the two Oaks are just completely enjoying to utter shit show because a lot of entitled rich parents are starting to complain about Lance and his actions online and the Kanto League replies to them all on almost every social platform about how horrible it was in Pallet Town and just how they can see Green/Blue/Red/Ash/Gary wanted time leave so badly because the place was so toxic.

So Lance just burns most of Pallet Towns residents down and isn’t even sorry. He also makes it really open and clear just how happy he is that Ash has actually taken up the Orange Isles Champion Title and will be joining the Champion line up and become his new secondary Champion. Ash just laughs and says Lance was just nice enough to burn Pallet Town metaphorically to the ground when Ash has been pushing himself to not actually start arson in his younger years. People take it as a depression joke but Lance and Ash’s friends completely know he wasn’t kidding at all.

Also if Lance finally gets to meet Delia and maybe they start hitting in each other, then that’s just a bonus point to the both of them as they enjoy the anger from the rest of Pallet Town.

#wolfy talks/writes #ash ketchum #misty #brock #delia ketchum #professor oak #gary oak #daisy oak #red #green #silver #blue #pokedexers #tracey #pallet town #arceus’s mothman!au #lance/delia #champion lance

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hazel-writes · 3 years

Text

Summary: A mission to your home planet, Lothal, takes an unexpected turn - one with deadly consequences.

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, emotional distress

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Life in the hive puckered up my night

The kiss of death, the embrace of life

There I stand 'neath the Marquee moon

Just waiting...

• Marquee Moon - Television •

You walked into work the next day exhausted, but happy to see your friends again after a weekend of ‘mind training’ with the Commander. The moment you passed through the doors to the artist workspace, a pair of arms launched forward and wrapped around your neck. You automatically knew who they belonged to.

Rilea squealed with delight as she released her hold on you.

“Stars, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

You laughed, regaining your breath as you pushed her away gently. “It’s only been a few days, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

Koda piped up from the back of the room. “Thank stars you’re back - I’ll finally have help keeping this one sane.” He gestured towards Rilea.

Rilea turned to Koda, putting her hands on her hips defensively. “And what makes you think she will choose your side in this debate?”

Koda crossed his arms confidently. “Because I wasn’t the one who accosted her with aggressive hugging the moment she walked in the door.”

Rilea scoffed. “Some people actually appreciate mutual displays of affection, thank you very much.”

You sighed. Glad to be back.

Despite the unrelenting “arguing,” you were thankful for the sense of normalcy being around your friends gave you. It was exactly what you needed.

Rilea and Koda didn’t seem to be nearing the end of their bickering match, so you made your way over to Akilah, shaking your head. “Have they been like this all day?”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Try all week.”

“Oof, sorry I missed it.”

Akilah shot you a knowing look.

You laughed. “Okay, not that sorry.”

Soren emerged from the back of the room with a pile of posters. He slammed them down on the table, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

Koda rolled his eyes. “Pfassk Soren, what did the paper do to you?”

He ignored Koda’s quip and spoke without looking up. “We have a new mission.”

Great, you thought. Just what I needed. “Where to this time?”

Koda and Rilea wandered over to the papers Soren was inspecting when he didn’t respond right away. You and Akilah hung back, waiting for an answer. After a moment, you noticed the three of them exchange nervous glances before looking back up at you.

“What is it?” You were starting to get worried. Usually if they were quiet for this long, it meant something terrible had happened.

Rilea was the one who broke the silence. “The mission’s on Lothal.... We leave tomorrow.”

————————————————

Making your way off of the First Order transport ship and onto Lothalian land felt strange. Having your friends and coworkers step on the ground as if it was any other planet didn't sit right with you - this was your home.

It was just how you remembered it. Rolling plains extended before you like a savannah ocean. The sky formed a collage of sun and clouds, creating smoky orange shadows on the horizon. The breeze billowed through your hair, mirroring the movement of the tall grass at your feet. An ancient stone circle could be seen in the distance; you used to play on one just like it when you were a kid.

Everything looked the same...

But everything felt different.

You knew Hux was planning on sending you to Lothal, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon considering your experience on the last mission to Dantooine. He had sent you to the city of Kothal, mere miles from where your parents lived. There was no way Hux could’ve known their exact location, but you were on edge nonetheless. The purpose of this mission was straightforward: distribute First Order propaganda, demand the immediate submission of citizens, and fire if necessary.

The ships you arrived on were small, consisting of your coworkers and a handful of stormtroopers. Hux and the Commander were on a separate ship stationed closer to the city center, where they were planning to speak to leadership. You watched as a few troopers lined up beside you. One stopped directly to your left, reached down, and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

You jumped, startled, before realising who it was. “Finn?”

The trooper nodded.

“What are you doing here? This isn’t your squadron! You need to go back, you could get into troub-”

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s fine.” He chuckled lightly. “It’s too late to go back anyways.”

You looked from side to side before leaning closer to him. “If Hux finds out about this…”

“He won’t. Now quit your worrying.”

“Not likely,” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “You never answered my question: why are you here?”

“I heard they were sending you off to Lothal.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “That Hux is one bantha-brained idiot.”

“You came here because of me?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Where you go, trouble follows. Figured I wouldn’t want to miss the excitement.”

You knew that behind his mocking tone lied a more serious concern. “If this is about Dantooine…”

“No, I told you: I am entertainment-starved! Plus, I needed to get off that ship for a while - so chill out.”

You lifted your hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, I’m cool as a dead star.” You looked around at the other members of his crew. “You should get back to your troops.”

“If you insist.” He bowed dramatically. “Just holler if anything moderately exciting happens.”

You laughed. He always had the ability to make you do that. “Will do.”

He started to leave.

“Finn?”

He turned to face you a few feet away. “Yeah?”

You threw a grateful look his way. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet!” He walked backwards a few steps with a casual confidence you admired. “So far this mission has been as uneventful as crew cleanup day.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” You smiled. “I’ll see ya on the flip Concussion Commander!”

He saluted in response. “You too, Coat Thief.”

—————————————

The day’s work had gone well. You stuck with Rilea and Koda for most of it, while Soren and Akilah went off on their own. The three of you made your way across town putting up posters, with the only violent encounter coming from a hungry loth-cat who had mistaken your foot for food.

You recognised a few faces here and there, but did your best to turn around when you did. You received a few disgruntled comments from villagers about how you were a “traitor” and had become a “gray coat.” However, despite Hux’s intentions for you to submit Lothalians to the ways of the First Order, you ignored such comments and continued your business.

By the evening, you still had a third of the posters to distribute. You were desperate to get off of the planet as soon as possible, so when the others went to eat dinner, you hung back and continued to work.

As you meandered through the winding streets, you unconsciously led yourself down the road that led to your old home. Most villagers had turned in for the night, leaving you alone in the now silent town. You looked up at the sky, which was beautifully clear. A breeze wisped a piece of hair in front of your face, but you didn’t mind; you loved the crisp air on Lothal. The air on the Finalizer felt so processed and artificial, so dependent on machines and technology. Here, breathing felt so natural - so in tune with the swaying grass, bristling spine trees, and blooming flowers that surrounded you. You hoped that someday you could come back without the pressures of work or war. Someday...

Your moment of peace was soon disturbed by a growing sense of unease in your gut. You noticed that the crickbeets, which would normally be loud at this time of night, had stopped chirping. That’s not good.

You realized that in the midst of your daydreaming, you had lost track of where you were heading. It was dark, making it harder to see where you were. You stepped towards a streetlight, and gasped when you realized where you had ended up:

You gazed up at the front door of your parent’s home.

You looked down at your clenched fists and took a deep breath. You could turn around, you told yourself; It’s as easy as putting one foot in front of the other. But you knew deep down that this was something you had to do for yourself. For Benji. Before you did anything rash, you decided to circle the house to scope out the situation; you didn’t think anyone would be awake at this time of night.

You didn’t expect your mother to be there this time of year either. She was probably stationed in some big city for her work, as usual. Your older brother had moved out a couple years back and you hadn’t heard much from him since. You weren’t sure about your dad, though. Usually he stuck around the house, painting.

To your surprise, a single light emitted from the small kitchen window. The same window you waved goodbye to your brother from before he was killed.

You needed to see them.

You knocked on the door. No answer.

You knocked again, louder this time. Still no answer.

You knocked a third time, and the door flew open, almost hitting you.

A tall, gray-haired man appeared in the doorway. He wiped his paint-covered hands on the front of his apron, grunting in frustration.

“It’s the middle of the night, for star’s sake! What do you wa-”

Your father looked up, finally recognising you.

“Daisy?”

It was his nickname for you.

“Dad.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, before hastily beckoning you to enter. “W-what are you doing here?”

You took a few cautious steps into the front room. “We were sent on a mission here.”

“We?” He moved to look behind you as he searched for any sign of others.

“Me and my friends.”

He jerked his head back to face yours. “Friends?” He moved closer to you, bringing his voice to a forced whisper. “You aren’t supposed to be making friends.”

“Better than making enemies.” You remained cold towards him, remembering the purpose of your discussion. “Speaking of which, where’s mom?”

He took a cautious step back, catching onto your dark witticism. “She’s stationed at Jalath for the next month.”

You nodded your head, remaining silent, before your father finally brought himself to ask the question that had been lingering on his mind since you first spoke:

“What’s wrong?”

You brushed past him and into the living space of your old home. Not much had changed, though to be honest, there wasn’t much to change. The room was small, with a packed dirt floor. A few of your father’s paintings sat on wooden easels throughout the space, and even more decorated the walls. Your eyes found your favorite one, the one with the rare and beautiful spine trees that reminded you of…

Your thoughts trailed off when you saw the painting to its left. It was a portrait of your little brother, smiling from ear to ear, awe-struck by a small caterpillar that sat on his pointer finger. You hadn’t seen this before.

“You lied to me.”

Your father furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Lied to you… What are you talking about?”

“About Benji. About his abilities. About everything.”

He remained silent for a moment, finally realizing what you were referencing. “Daisy-”

Your pent-up frustration got the best of you. “You told me he was killed in an accident. An accident! But it was you. You and mom. You sent a little boy out to his death, and then you lied to me about it!”

“We had no choice…” He gave you a pitying look, one that only made you more angry.

“You always have a choice!” Your hands tore through your hair frantically. “I mean, stars, what kind of person could bring themselves to do that?!”

You felt the emotions in you rise, along with the enigmatic ability that you were desperate to keep hidden. Before it was unleashed, a loud bang sounded from behind you. Finn stood at the door, hand on his blaster. He must have heard the yelling, you thought. But how did he know where to find me?

He reached a hand out in your direction. “Hey, you okay?”

You gave him a curt nod before your dad spoke up again.

“Who is this?” He looked at Finn with a mixture of panic and disgust. “You brought one of them here? Are you insane?”

You put out a comforting hand to let Finn know you could handle the situation. “No, he’s a friend. He cares about me, probably more than you ever had.”

Your father took a few steps backwards, pointing his finger towards the door. “Get this Bucketbrain out of my house!”

A part of you knew his comments were coming from a place of true concern for both his and your safety, but another part of you couldn’t allow Finn to be treated like this by your father.

“Don’t talk to him like that.”

“Why not? He’s just one of Ren’s filthy snowmen...” He directed his attention back on you, bringing his voice to a low grumble. “You weren’t supposed to make friends with the enemy.”

“Dad, shut up,” you warned. “Now.”

Finn, who had remained remarkably calm throughout the whole ordeal, finally spoke up. “Dad?” he questioned, looking between you and your father.

You gave him another nod, confirming his realization.

“Your friend doesn’t know, does he?” You stayed silent. He directed his attention back towards Finn. “I wouldn’t get too close to her… She’s not who you think she is.”

Finn spoke up. “With all due respect, I can make my own judgements.”

“You’re just a brainwashed stifftrooper. All you do is follow other’s orders,” he scoffed.

“Isn’t that what you did, dad, follow other’s orders?” He walked straight into that one.

“That was different. That was for the greater good.”

“Greater good, huh? Look where we are now!” You threw your arms out. “Benji’s death didn’t do a thing for the greater good.”

He lowered his voice. “I will not justify myself to you, child.”

Something about the way he patronizingly threw around the word child made you snap. Being a ‘child’ didn’t count for anything in this galaxy; your own brother was forced to grow up way too fast. Your father shouldn't have been able to pick and choose when you were a child and when you were an adult - you stopped being a kid the first time you heard bomber ships above your house.

Your thoughts continued to run rampant as the world around you seemed to compress. The tension built and built, almost unbearably. But then it stopped.

Everything was silent...

...And then it wasn’t.

You ducked as all the windows surrounding you simultaneously shattered. Finn ran to you, wrapping his arms around your body, while pushing your head into his armor. When all the glass stopped flying, he removed his hand from your head, giving you room to look up at him. You couldn’t tell what he must be thinking, but it would have to wait. You stared at your hands, which were clenched into tight fists, before snapping your head back towards your dad.

He stared at you in shock. “You. You are one of them too. You’re like him.”

You returned his amazed expression with a glare. “You are wrong - I’m not like Benji. As much as I try, I will never be able to possess the unwavering trust that he gave others. I won’t let you take advantage of something I can’t control, not like you did to him.”

He stepped towards you. “Little daisy...”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

He took another step in your direction, pleading with his eyes. “Sweetheart, please, hear me out.” He reached his hand out to touch your shoulder.

You flinched and took a step back. Hot, angry tears fell on the dirt floor. “Don’t touch me.”

Upon hearing that, Finn took a few steps forward, prepared to act if necessary.

But your father wasn’t giving up his fight easily. He reached his hand towards you once more. “Daisy-”

This time, you pushed him away with your palms, prompting Finn to pull out his blaster.

To your horror, your father pulled out his own, aiming it directly at Finn. The two were locked in a standoff.

You put out your arms, glancing between both men. You changed your tone of voice to one that was more soft and understanding. Approaching the situation with anger would only make things escalate further. “Dad, put down the blaster.”

He looked at you, confused and hurt. “Shouldn’t you be telling him that?”

“I trust him.” You gave a small nod to Finn, which he returned. You knew Finn wouldn’t shoot unless you gave him permission or if you were in serious danger.

You continued to mediate the confrontation. “Just put it down. Put it down and then I promise we will leave.”

“He’s an Imp! He’ll send more back here later.” The panic in your father’s voice was growing more and more visible.

“No, no, he wouldn’t do that!”

A twinge of guilt hit you as you considered his point of view. Maybe you had been too harsh on him. Maybe seeing you with Finn was too much for him. Maybe he really did feel that he had no choice but to send your brother away. It had been your mother, after all, who coaxed him into doing so. But he lied - they both did - forcing you to relive your brother’s death day after day, speculating as to how things went so wrong.

A grumble from beneath Finn’s helmet brought you back to the present. You discretely inched towards your father, trying to get close enough to grab the blaster out of his hands.

Unfortunately he spotted what you were doing, and took an unsteady step back, almost tripping over a canvas that lied on the ground. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned.

You ignored his comment and continued your movement. “I need you to calm down.”

“Stop!” he cried, inadvertently stepping on the canvas, his foot falling through the thin-woven fabric. He looked down at his foot for a brief moment.

This was your chance.

“Dad-” you started, reaching for the blaster as fast as you could.

A shot rang out. You instinctively brought your hands to your ears, trying to ease their sudden ringing. You looked up in horror to see Finn fall to the ground. Your father remained standing, seemingly shocked by his own actions.

You cried out, running to your fallen friend. “No, no, no, no. What did you do?!”

You ran your hands over his armor, trying to find the source of his injury. Meanwhile your father made his way over to where you kneeled. His voice quivered with regret.

“Daisy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

You spun around, furious. It was no use hiding your powers from him now. Wordlessly, you extended your hands outwords, hurling objects around the room until each of your father’s paintings lied in shambles on the floor.

Suddenly, a noise came from behind you. You turned to see the Commander standing at the doorway. He must’ve sensed something was wrong, you thought. But still, you were surprised to see him stand at the entrance of your house, his cloak billowing dramatically in the wind.

Your father looked up, and upon seeing the masked man, his face contorted into an expression of disgust.

Your father spoke with more malice than you had ever heard him speak before: “You.”

The Commander brought his gaze from your tear-filled eyes to your dad’s weapon, before silently raising his hand, preparing to attack.

Seeing what was about to happen, you put yourself between the two men, facing the Commander. “No! Please, he’s my father.”

He turned to face you, cocking his head slightly.

But before he could answer you, you watched as your father raised his blaster and fired off another shot. Unlike the scared, unsure stance he held when accidentally shooting Finn, he now was confident, unwavering, and most of all, angry.

Time stood still as you explored your options. You could attempt to use the force to stop the laser, but you had exhausted your powers with your previous outburst. You could just let the laser go, hoping it would miss the Commander or that he would block it somehow but no, you couldn’t take that chance either. Nobody else was going to get hurt because of you. So that left you one choice. One extremely stupid choice.

Without thinking too much, you forced your feet across the floor, positioning yourself between your father and the Commander. You shut your eyes and waited.

At first you didn’t feel anything. That didn’t last long. As time began to speed up again, you felt a searing pain near your shoulder. It was the most physical discomfort you had ever felt, a fact that probably made you luckier than most.

You dropped to your knees as your body went into shock - a combination of the physical and mental stress of the whole encounter. You felt dizzy and it was hard to focus on what was happening around you.

You looked up and watched the horrified face of your father as he dropped his blaster. He started to make his way over to you, but with a burst of power you didn’t know you still had, you pushed him away. He was sent sprawling onto the other side of the room, unconscious. This was more for his protection than yours, as the Commander would not be happy with his assassination attempt.

Your whole body made contact with the floor and you shifted your focus to the left where Finn lied, motionless. You crawled as close as you could before wrapping your fingers around his armored hand. A moment later you saw a pair of black boots appear to your right.

“Commander-”

“Just hold on.” He kneeled down next to you, hastily removing his helmet to get a better look at the wound. He then placed two gloved hands on your shoulder, attempting to stem the bleeding.

You looked up at him. He had risked his position by coming to your aid. He had listened to you when you told him to not hurt your father. And now, he was still by your side, even after being shot at.

You mumbled the only thing you could think to say: “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You smirked weakly. “Too late.”

He shook his head, hands still on your would, his eyes shifting to focus on your father. You followed his gaze before reaching one of your hands up to gently grab his wrist.

“He was just scared...” You tried to explain, but it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open. “He-”

The Commander interrupted you. “I… I understand. Just try to relax.”

You sighed, looking back to your left. “Finn-”

“He’ll be alright.”

You felt yourself nearing the edge of consciousness. Even if you survived this, what would happen to Finn? Would your father ever recover? Both of them had seen your powers, putting you and the Commander at risk. It was all too much.

“Kylo, I’m scared.”

He looked at you unlike he had ever before: unconfident, terrified, helpless.

“Me too.”

And while that would’ve made most even more worried, it comforted you. He told you the truth, and that was all you could’ve asked for.

——————————————

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lovelylogans · 4 years

Note

,,,,can I get some opinions on lorelai, specifically Lorelai's Love Interests?

*cracks knuckles*

i just answered an ask about rory’s main love interests but now i’m gonna go into lorelai’s

quick disclaimer: i have seen s1-s5, read scripts of key episodes of s6/s7. so. let’s get into it.

jason:

jason is literally trash lmao and i Dislike Him. least favorite of lorelai’s love interests. garbage man. if men have one thing it’s the Audacity.

okay first of all his whole introduction to canon was that he wanted to leave the business his dad groomed him for..... to piss off his dad. like. that’s his reasoning. that’s why he wants to go into business with richard. literally just to piss off his dad. Sir You Are Nearly Forty.

and then. and THEN. like his FIRST scene!!!! with lorelai!!!!! is when lorelai is like “hey you shouldn’t have gone behind my mom’s back and planned this business trip when she was planning a party! that’s kinda shitty of you!” and his response was to REMINISCE about their time at summer camp and he’s like “you still hold a grudge” because. BE. CAUSE. he stood up and tipped over the canoe when lorelai was fully clothed, and when lorelai pointed this out, this man. has the AUDACITY. to say. “i remember. green t-shirt, no bra. trust me, i was the hero of cabin five for the rest of the summer.”

GROSS. GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS GROSS. FUCK MEN. as if THAT isn’t gross enough he came up with the nickname “umlauts” because her nipples were showing through her shirt!!! diSGUSTIN!! men! are! nasty! and literally less than TEN one-sentence lines later he ASKS HER OUT.

and then literally the rest of his character is basically just “business.” like. that’s it. when he takes the day off to come to stars hollow literally almost the Entire Time he’s focused on business calls and not on lorelai, his girlfriend who he came to spend time with. and then when richard, being a Shady Bitch, double-crossed him and went back into business with his dad, jason wanted to SUE HIM??? BRO???????? YOU STILL EXPECTED LORELAI TO STICK WITH YOU WHEN YOU ARE SUING HER FATHER?????????

this doesn’t even go INTO all the other stuff about hidden relationship and they’re literally dating just bc it pisses off their parents, it’s just. jason sucks. dude sucks. don’t like him. not one bit.

christopher:

i have..... complicated feelings toward christopher. to steal a quote i saw from twitter when someone was like “he knows lorelai so deeply!” they said “he knows her past, it doesn’t mean he knows her.”

so, like, on one level. i think that christopher was a bad dad to rory. right. like, he isn’t a good dad. i come from a home with split up parents, so, like, i understand the complexities there, but. he wasn’t a good dad. he just wasn’t.

that episode in season one? it’s the first time he comes to stars hollow. the. first. time. in sixteen years he has never gone to see where his daughter (and friend/romantic interest) lived, which follows: he hasn’t been to any of her parent/teacher nights, he’s never gone to any of the performances she was in as a child, he’s never participated with her when it comes to town events that she’s so passionate about (being a pilgrim, all the things taylor lists when she turns down being ice cream queen, etc) he wasn’t there. he wasn’t there for all the small moments that make up being a dad. no helping with homework, no sitting with her and listening after a long day, no actual parenting—no being there when she’s sick, no disciplining her if she does something wrong, no being there to celebrate her victories. he isn’t a good dad to rory. he has his occasional moments (he starts calling her more often post that visit, but it drops off again post-sherry) but all in all? not a good dad. i would go far as to say “deadbeat dad” as the first significant financial help he offers, that we see in canon, is him paying for yale. not helping with chilton, or any other childcare costs.

that’s an important factor when it comes to evaluating him and lorelai. because, quite honestly? i think that if rory didn’t exist, christopher and lorelai would have been firmly in the realm of “we dated in high school.” maybe a former flame that gets a fling when there’s a high school reunion. but since rory exists, they’re tied together forever, and therefore those feelings keep cropping up and flourishing (esp in situations when they shouldn’t) and they’re so stuck in the past.

i think that teenage christopher and teenage lorelai are well suited. i don’t think adult christopher and adult lorelai are well suited. lorelai had to grow up very quickly when she had rory, so she got a job, settled down in stars hollow, and put in the work of being a responsible parent who provides for her child. christopher doesn’t start keeping a job until s2/s3, he’s still very much stuck in the past. his pursuit of her is almost entirely rooted in nostalgia, as is her returning interest. they keep coming back to each other because it’s comfortable, it’s what they know. but once they look past that lens of nostalgia, their compatibility kind of falls apart. christopher is still immature in general (getting angry over the character reference she writes for luke, getting drunk at emily and richard’s vow renewal and basically shoving himself in the middle of their relationship like “but THE OOOOOLD DAAAAYYYS” and that WHOLE storyline of where he turned off his phone and ignored lorelai’s calls when richard had a heart attack, do NOT get me started) and lorelai is very independent and she likes her life where it is and how it is.

so to sum up: christopher and lorelai’s relationship is almost entirely doomed to fail because they can’t remove their rose-colored glasses when it comes to their (mutually romanticized) past together, and when the glasses are knocked off, they aren’t compatible. they just aren’t. what ties them together is that nostalgia, where they’re most natural is when they’re joking and being friendly (like the old times!) and when it turns into a romantic relationship, reality is too much for that tenuous connection to handle.

luke:

OBVIOUSLY i am team luke. this is the ship i’m most dedicated to within the gilmore girls fandom. he’s there for her, they push each other to become better (lorelai keeping his father’s boat, for example, and him encouraging her throughout the opening of the dragonfly) they have that Longing and Yearning. they have amazing chemistry, they’ve been crushing on each other since SEASON! ONE! and honestly they are fantastic when they work together.

i will say that they have their issues, and it almost entirely boils down to lack of communication.

if lorelai had communicated the occasions in which she had seen chris, luke wouldn’t have been so caught off-guard at the vow renewal and cut off their relationship. if luke had communicated about april’s existence with the full honesty that he didn’t know about her existence, lorelai, as a mother, as someone whose child’s default father figure is luke, would probably take some time but ultimately understand the importance of a child. they should have communicated about the wedding being too soon, and all their other issues. that bickering that makes their flirting and crushing so great also gets in their way sometimes; it’s hard for them to have a serious conversation without lorelai deflecting or luke shutting down. honestly i think it would have been great if they’d gone to couples therapy (okay, look, almost everyone in gilmore girls needs therapy, including emily and lorelai, so i’m glad that at least that one got tackled somewhere in canon) and it would have really helped fix that main problem.

frankly, i think a lot of their problems are bc ASP and the other writers wanted “drama.” which fair, it’s a tv show, but frankly leave the drama to rory and there are other ways to manufacture drama other than breaking up your main couple: dragonfly drama, for instance, or liz and tj and jess, or dealing with rory’s dramas, or something like the emily and richard and luke drama but sustained to a point where it causes a similar family fight that might have even paralleled lorelai leaving the gilmore household for someone she loves, and seeing that relationship knit up. like i get this show was in the 2000s but honestly let the couples actually Be Together!!! let them explore those dynamics!!! the whole “break them up, put them back together, break them up, put them back together” thing is tired and it seems unrealistic. like!!!! luke says “i’m all in” to lorelai and less than like TEN episodes later he’s like “it’s too much. this relationship is too much.” LET THEM WORK THROUGH THEIR STRUGGLES AS A COUPLE AND LET THEM C O M M U N I C A T E. LET THEM!!!!!

otherwise? iconique. the Flavor. the taste. the vibes are immaculate. chef’s kiss. luke/lorelai is So Good. their chemistry is unparalleled. their support of each other unmatched.

i can’t really remember any other love interests lmao OH SHOOT

max medina:

lol forgettable uh, i think that he and lorelai had an interesting partnership, but it clearly wouldn’t have worked out to the point of a wedding, which i feel like lorelai knew because she kept holding back on actually answering him for the proposal after the s1 finale. i think that his dynamic could have also really been utilized to play with the dynamic of lorelai re-entering her parents’ world and the different expectations that that maintains; i don’t think it should have gone so far to, like, proposal, i think it could have been maintained then max wanted to get serious and lorelai hesitates and pulls something similar to the show. anyway, interesting first love interest for lorelai, also helps ground the world of chilton, so nice little twofold purpose for max there

i will say his proposal was super cute tho the thousand yellow daisies thing was Excellent

#i LITERALLY didn't remember max until i was about to hit post lol #that's why he's down at the bottom #annalise talks gilmore girls #Anonymous #ask

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peace-coast-island · 4 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Sandwiches and charming little huts

Walking the trails of Charm Villa is like stepping into a bright, colorful, and cute notepad. Rolling hills with vibrant green grass and colorful flowers scattered all over. On the tops of the hills are rustic and whimsical little cottages and huts, as well as shops, cafes, and a library. Take a picture and you’d think it was from a stationery set!

After sleeping in until around eleven we met up with Gutsy and Livvy at Coffee Studios for a tour of Charm Villa. Gutsy’s a college friend of Daisy Jane who just moved to the village a few months ago. Livvy’s her niece - first cousin once removed - and she and Jack - her dad/Gutsy’s cousin - own Coffee Studios. The cafe was founded by Gutsy and Jack’s grandma, then it was passed down to Jack’s mom, and after she retired her son and granddaughter now run the place.

The cafe’s best known for their sandwiches and every few months they set up a contest for a new sandwich to add to the menu. Livvy was the one who started that tradition and it got popular so it stuck. Guess what today happened to be? While Lolly, Pancetti, Biskit, and Lyman prepped for the contest, the rest of us hung around the village before meeting back around 3 for the contest.

I’ve only met Gutsy a handful of times over the years and she always leaves an impression. The name Gutsy - short for Augusta - fits her to a T. She said that she never thought her impulsiveness and wild imagination would make her a good detective and yet there she was solving crimes and saving the day. Gutsy really does remind me a lot about Jamie, except a lot more extroverted and bold. Honestly, I’m surprised that they haven’t crossed paths yet.

So far Gutsy’s enjoying the peaceful village life. It’s a huge change of pace compared to her old life. Gutsy grew up in a boarding house that also ran a stable so her life revolved around horses since forever. Her father died when she was seventeen, opening up a can of worms that led to her getting tangled up with an embezzling scheme that he was involved in and indirectly caused his death. After exposing the crime, Gutsy joined a task force dedicated to investigating crimes relating to shady underground practices involving horses like racing and such.

Daisy Jane and Gutsy met in college when they became roommates. At the time Gutsy was considering studying to be a veterinarian but ended up dropping out a year later because the task force was starting to take over her life. In retrospect, the whole being a vet thing wasn’t meant to be for her.

Being a detective was an unexpected turn for Gutsy, one that no one saw coming - and yet, at the time, it made sense. For a while, she felt that she found her calling, especially after being betrayed by what her dad and his friends had done. Maybe, in a way, she was trying to absolve him of his misdeeds. Solving mysteries and working with horses, what else can she ask for?

But then around last year things went sour. Investigating crimes has its dangers, which Gutsy knows all too well. She can handle being a target, but when loved ones are in the line of fire, that’s where she draws the line. The birth of her daughter Lulu led to Gutsy reevaluating her life choices. Eventually she decided that it was time to move on and give Lulu a stable childhood.

That’s why she decided to settle in Charm Villa. Other than her cousins and a small handful of relatives, Gutsy doesn’t have much family. With Lulu to take care of, a journey of self discovery was out of the question so she opted to stick close to family for practical reasons. With Livvy in college and only coming home every other weekend and Jack having experience as a young single parent as well as needing help with the cafe, Gutsy knew she and Lulu would be in good hands.

While she finds herself much happier and less stressed in Charm Villa, Gutsy does miss being around horses. As far as she knows, the nearest stable is about two hours away so she hasn’t had a chance to visit yet. Maybe when Lulu’s a little older, she says. For now, Gutsy and horses are taking a long break.

The way she describes it is like a close relationship that has gone a bit too codependent. All her life she grew up surrounded by horses so she related to them more than people. Her views on the family she grew up with, especially her dad, have been clouded in recent years. When she put together the pieces, she didn’t want to believe it, but at the same time, it all made sense. While being a detective gave her a sense of purpose, it also showed Gutsy how deceiving people can be. She always - and still - find horses more trusting than people, so in a way she relied on them as a crutch. Do it for the horses - that was her mantra whenever she tackled a case that would push her limits. Then that led to her letting the task force take over her life to the point that she had nothing outside of that.

Eventually it got to the point where all she cared about was getting the truth out. Right and wrong, black and white, collateral damage was unfortunate but it didn’t matter as long as what’s done is done. As a result, Gutsy ended up burning a lot of bridges, which in turn made her question if she did more harm than good.

Lulu was her wake up call, the one who turned Gutsy’s life upside down and forced her to reevaluate her future. Being a parent wasn’t in the cards for her but in the end she made her choice. While the idea of raising a kid is still terrifying for her, so far it seems to be the best thing to happen to her. After spending most of her life jumping headfirst into danger and chasing thrills, Gusty realized the weight of her actions and how one can’t always jump to conclusions or make poor judgements just to get ahead of everyone else.

Maybe it’s another attempt to right her dad’s wrongs - that’s still something she struggles with - but Charm Villa, the cafe, Lulu, her cousins, it’s been doing her a lot of good. There’s still a lot that Gutsy’s uncertain about, but getting herself out of a bad place is a good first step. After everything she’s been through, I hope she finds that peace of mind she deserves. From the looks of it, I think she’s finding her way.

Around 1:30 we headed back to the cafe to help set up for the sandwich contest. When we were done, we had time to kill so Jack and Livvy gave us a tour of the kitchen. Then we made lattes and bread, which was a lot of fun. By the time we were able to master latte art, it was time for the contest to begin!

Candy Fruit Sando by Lolly A super sweet take on the cute Japanese fruit sandwiches! To kick things up a notch, the fruits are coated with a sugary syrup for an extra crunch! Fresh ripe fruit candied to perfection, freshly whipped cream that feels like eating a cloud and a soft and pillowy brioche to tie it all together - it’s the perfect addition to any bento box! Rod - Candied fruit?! Genius! 9/10 Snooty - I just wanna take pictures of it and make my friends jealous over how pretty it looks! 10/10 Sylvana - Strawberries and cream are a winning combo! 8/10 Audie - Aesthetic and yummy - that’s a win for me! 9/10

Spa Day Sandwich by Pancetti In need of shaking up your skin care routine? No need to swap out your face mask or moisturizer when you can have a sandwich instead! All the freshest veggies guaranteed to give you a healthy glow like cucumbers and seaweed seasoned with a zesty citrus glaze on a slice of lightly toasted pumpernickel. Snooty - My skin’s already feeling great! 7/10 Sylvana - This kinda reminds me of a salad, but in sandwich form! 6/10 Audie - This was definitely inspired by a spa! 6/10 Rod - Skip the moisturizer, go for the sandwich! 7/10

The Ultimate Dessert Sandwich! by Biskit What happens when you mash a pie, cake, and pudding into one? Well, we’re about to find out with this sandwich! The bread’s kinda like a pie crust/brioche hybrid and the sauce is a rich caramel custard. In between are thin slices of red velvet cake, blueberry-ginger pie filling, and slices of yellow cake. Sylvana - If this doesn’t satisfy your sweet tooth, I don’t know what will! 8/10 Audie - Talk about indulgent! 6/10 Rod - Perfect for a cheat day after an intense workout - but only in moderation! 7/10 Snooty - Are you sure this is a sandwich? 5/10

Take a Bite of Nature! by Lyman Need a palate cleanser after having too many sweets or processed foods? Nothing like fresh organic veggies to put your body back in balance! Green, leafy veggies, rustic roots, and crisp, sweet fruit on sprouted bread - all the flavors of nature in one tasty package! Audie - Crunch, crunch, crunch! 7/10 Rod - I wonder if this will make a good post-workout shake… 7/10 Snooty - Turn the bread into croutons and add some dressing and it’s a rustic salad! 8/10 Sylvana - This is probably better than some of the stuff they sell at health food stores 7/10

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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fearfearer · 4 years

Text

i have caught up with the magnus archives.

when i started listening, i started a text file to note down any thoughts/confusion/analysis/jokes i had as i listened. i isolated a few bits of it into standalone text posts that i already posted, but here is the whole thing, my long-form liveblog

thoughts on the magnus archive as i listen

jonny sims gives an impassioned performance of someone's statement-- a diegetic impassioned performance, as we witness it being interrupted and resuming-- and follows it up with his own judgement of merciless doubt. classic. why the impassioned performance? he's just a nerd. i dearly hope this is the fandom consensus

every episode ends at the perfect volume to which i have adjusted it, and then i start the next episode and it blares in my ears. i think the volume of the intro must be like 1.75x the volume of the rest

*makes a serious effort to listen to and remember the name and date at the beginning of the statement recording* *forgets completely within 2 minutes*

i saw a fanart of gerard keay and learned [1] that he must be a good guy after all, since they drew him lookin cute, and [2] that his name is not, in fact, jared key. what, am i supposed to be looking at the transcripts? understanding names properly? in my defense, jonny sims clearly articulates "Jared" when he says it. maybe i'm not as good at decoding british accents as i thought. [footnote added in later: ok good i'm not the only one who hears "Jared" and thinks "Jared" instead of "Gerard"]

when gerard keay was described as having numerous eye tattoos on his joints, obviously my first thought was, "including the ankle? so he's count olaf?" because that's definitely a way count olaf would disguise his eye tattoo: by tattooing eyes everywhere else too and becoming The Eye Tattoo Guy. anyway this is part of why i was not at first inclined to think favorably of gerard keay

"The first thing about this statement that makes me dubious is that it comes from a fellow academic." if you know shit fuck you

it has come to my attention that there are ships. makes sense... after all, everyone in every fandom is horny af*. i'm not in deep enough to ship yet but naturally i'm keeping an eye on it

*horny af for depictions of intimacy, sexual or otherwise, but mostly sexual

definitely feel like i need to be writing down every name i hear because they're never not cropping back up but for now i'll just let it all wash over me

so sasha has been replaced with not-sasha, huh? pretty sure. though i'm not good at distinguishing voices. but that sounded pretty different, and my listening comprehension wrt that table isn't that bad. <<as time passes i doubt myself more and more on this point but not enough to go back and listen again

"You believe me?" "Yes, I think I do." (smashes button labeled "CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT" and a loud buzzer sounds)

IT'S MICHAEL!!! i hope michael is a long-term good guy... he's not seeming like a good guy right now... he says he's mostly neutral. vaguely recall seeing a tumblr post about michael in the recent past but that didn't give me any hints and i don't remember it well anyway. michael's voice is good though. good laugh

i'm not good at visualizing characters based on descriptions, let alone based merely on their voices, so the only image i have in my head of jonathan is a furrowed brow

i'm on episode 49 and i don't like jonathan's distrust of his colleagues... i don't understand why his immediate suspicion was that gertrude's murder was an inside job. hasn't he just learned firsthand that the institute is not impenetrable? it's not inconceivable that someone could enter and shoot her and leave. especially when it took place in underground tunnels connected to unknown locations.

there's a good Old Lady Voice Combo on episode 62

so agnes montague was heavily cursed... that's my conclusion after episode 67

elias seems to tell jonathan to "get some sleep" a lot. though it IS generally good advice

episode 70, 9 minutes, 41 seconds: jonny sims's cell phone goes off in the background

small brain: ghost ship medium brain: ghost train galaxy brain: dirt train

i wanted to see if there was fanart of michael so i looked it up... i might as well have googled "blonde slenderman"

sweeney todd mentions tally: II

for some reason, hearing michael described this time as "a tall man with curly blonde hair and an unnerving laugh" puts an image in my head without my consent, and that image is chris fleming. now, he's not quite blonde, is he? but that doesn't change my casting decision, which is now set in stone. hope he does a good british accent

"YES i know what a meme is."

why is melanie the first/only one to notice that sasha is now not-sasha? is it because she is experienced in firsthand paranormal encounters (whereas the archivists are experienced in decidedly SECONDhand paranormal encounters, save for the worm debacle)? oh, my question was answered handily in the next episode. ok.

the replacer definitely limits its glamour to everyone except one person just so that it can be amused by the distress and confusion of the one person who can see the truth. that must also be the reason it chooses a completely different appearance. it surely COULD replace a person with their exact likeness; it just uses another face for fun, and to be satisfied that it can get away with it.

this table has appeared in like 10 episodes... Guess It's Crucial

jonny sims yelling while swinging an axe. jonny sims goes through michael's door (eyes emoji)

the idea of the replacer killing jonathan and not even replacing him brings to mind "AT LEAST RIDE IT YOU ASSHOLE"

wasn't expecting to hear from leitner at this point... he's dropping tons of lore here. too much lore. so much is happening. i have to say i kinda like it better when the stakes are not quite so high as this.

so at the end of season 2, tim and martin believe that jonny sims killed this guy, who they probably don't know is leitner... and we the audience believe that elias, now almost certainly a double murderer, has very quietly stabbed leitner to death. do i the audience believe it? i'll keep an open mind for now. things are not always as they seem. except when sasha was replaced with not-sasha, which was exactly as it seemed. [footnote added in later: looks like elias being a double murderer was exactly as it seemed.]

so jonathan sims is the name of the actual guy voicing jonathan sims. it's a cecil situation. so are they someday going to go back and retcon every episode to change his name, like with palmer/baldwin? or does jonathan sims just not mind being a character as well? as long as it doesn't devolve into RPS i guess it's fine. if there's fanart of jonmartin i hope it doesn't depict them as their actors bc that's too close for comfort to RPS

there's been a truly hellish c*ndy cr*sh ad that has played like 40 times between episodes and i'm pretty well convinced to never ever play that curséd game

elias has some serious blackmail for daisy, huh? that's heavy, having police characters in fiction who do extrajudicial killings. life imitates art imitates life

"i'm not on drugs or anything. ...what? i could be on drugs!"

he said "ample opportunity" but like "amplopportunity" with emphasis on the "plop"

it was obviously elias who delivered the statement to jonathan in hiding, because he knew he would record it despite not being at work... bc he's a nerd

so if gerard keay has eye tattoos, does that mean he also serves the uhh the observing or whatever? [verdict arrived at later: no he just has those because he's cool. or because his mom tattooed him. ok almost certainly the latter.]

"what do i feed it?" obviously you feed it filled up cassette tapes, jon... nothing has ever been more obvious

it's okay that jon very stupidly burned his hand to a crisp. you don't need even one hand to turn on a cassette recorder. you can do that with your nose

so if these people who are wax figures serve the desolation, and not-sasha was spending time at the wax museum, does that mean there is a connection between the replacer and desolation? i think that would make sense, since both seem to enjoy making people feel bad feelings. also i'm starting to think that agnes was not actually cursed, but that would mean she burned that guy on purpose after being nice to him... was she just really selfish in that way? using him to experience Dating and mutilating him when he crossed the line, so she punished him as a cruel goodbye? or just building up his hopes so they will be even more fun to burn down when the time comes?

"perhaps doing a bit of mindless filing will help distract you." honestly that is something i would like to do in real life... i do enjoy a good mindless task. though doing mostly mindless tasks 40 hours a week is not a fun time for me lately. but it would be better if i didn't have to listen to bad radio at the same time

what?! the friendly midnight acrobat described in episode 90 sounds totally non-threatening and i hope there's fanart of it. was that gym just jared the bone turner helping people live their twisted athletic fetishes?! [footnote added in later: YES! god i hope people draw these turn-boned creatures optimized for their gymnastic of choice. show me a person who remade their body specifically for the balance beam]

so the power endowed in the archivist by the viewening is that when you sit them down across from someone they want to interview, that someone will invariably spill SOME beans and think it was their idea. maybe? [footnote added in later: yes.]

ok so Michael "The Distortion" Michael, of fractals and golden ringlets, has specifically tormented this other michael, lichtenberg michael?

jon is clearly moved to ask questions by an external force because he's a sensible guy who would not try to ask questions when daisy is holding a gun on him

i think basira has precisely the same accent as estelle... or maybe just a similarly staccato way of speaking (or of line-reading)

[episode 93] elias: (holding jon's face between two pieces of bread) what are you? jon: (sigh) the archivist...

well, they did something i didn't expect them to do with this show: create a compelling in-universe reason for jon to read statements aloud. because obviously until now there was none.

jon did the cockney accents. (insert emoji for indescribable feeling)

here's the purpose of the pit: if we all climb in the muddy pit together at night, the earthquake will only jiggle us gently and no one will be inside collapsing buildings to be crushed. it's only logical

ok i was gonna say this before but why is jon still at georgie's house??? he's not on the run for murder anymore, right? he has an apartment with all his stuff in it, right? [footnote added in later: i still don't understand why it was like this.]

i will confess that usually once the credits start to roll i zip to the next episode, but this time i zoned out a bit and it's really funny that jonny sims reads out "Rate and Review Us Online" in his archivist voice

a third michael. this one is probably already dead though. unless distortion michael takes over this guy's body or something. oh, jon came in at the end of the episode to say precisely this.

was episode 100 mostly improvised? if so, that would be appropriate. but i wouldn't put it past them to write every stuttering bit of those four statements

MARTIN...................................................................................................................................................... (typed this as martin gave some of his own money to the lady who expected payment for a statement)

i'm skipping 100.1 through 100.5 for now... just for now.

ok so michael is michael but not lightning mike michael, and two of these michaels are dead, but one is something that has never been alive nor dead. got it

everyone's morality is much more gray than i at first anticipated. the only people who seem to be solidly and earnestly on the side of good, as much as possible, are jonathan and martin and basira and georgie and maybe tim?

so michael just died and was overtaken by pseudo-helen? neo-helen? ok. that's kinda too bad, as i enjoyed michael's terrible laugh and unpredictability. but the feeling of michael being revealed as having been michael shelley feels somewhat similarly disappointing (but a bit less staggeringly groan-inducing) to when the mysterious koro-sensei in assassination classroom was revealed to have been a twink in his past. because of course he was. (that's when i stopped reading that manga. too precipitously dumb to sustain my suspension of disbelief.) it's like, ok, you had an interestingly mysterious character going on, but having solved the mystery, what interestingness is left? not much. fortunately this was resolved by promptly ending the existence of this michael and instead introducing new and improved helen

ooh martin has the asky ability too huh? nice [footnote added in later: he only used it this one time, and i'm wondering if they did that and then forgot and decided that jon is actually the only one with asky ability.] [[another footnote added in much later: How did i manage to mistake jon’s voice for martin’s voice? How?]]

the way martin said "kumo ga tabeteiru" in episode 110... alexander j newall does not watch anime

"I'm a book." ~Gerard Keay, 2017

it was a few episodes ago now but i noticed that when jon clearly articulated "Jared" referring to gerard, elias was like "Jared? you mean Gerard Keay?" (pronouncing it like "Gerard.") there is definitely a disagreement between these two (actors) about how to pronounce that name

the eye, the spiral, the end, the stranger, the lonely, the desolation, the slaughter, the vast, the buried, the dark, the corruption, the web, the flesh, the hunt.

Q: why would anyone want one of these rituals to succeed? A: it's their fetish. it's their sexual fetish

ok time to make up names for each possible apocalypse. these are the real and true names according to me, who knows such things: the eye - the viewening the spiral - down the drain the end - the really end end the stranger - oh wait we know this one. it's the unknowing. the lonely - the alonening the desolation - Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Lightless Flame the slaughter - world war all the vast - the expansion the buried - the grand lahar (or the Smothering) the dark - the extinguishment the corruption - the Great Rot the web - the spidening the flesh - the smorgasbord (or the Eatening) the hunt - come and get it

gerry said there was no dark god of indigestion, but i can tell you from personal experience that there is. though it's true that there is also fear involved, so maybe no separate pantheon is necessary

i sense that there is a battle between people who say it like "gotta get myself oriented" and "i feel disoriented" (as feels correct/natural to me) and people who say "gotta get myself orienTATed" and "i feel disorienTATed," and this podcast falls SQUARELY on the latter team. they've said it like 20 times

idk why he has to be such a dick to helen. jeez

the guy who coded his mind into a computer, which of the 14 was that? the corruption? the stranger? gotta be the corruption, but that doesn't fit perfectly with its rot/bugs aesthetic...

speed -> speeding -> sped. heed -> heeding -> hed. thus i decree

in my dream i listened to a whole episode of this show, narrated by gertrude, and i was like "whoa this is cool" and i went to write it down but i was still in the dream and writing doesn't work in dreams :( also any successful writing in dreams doesn't transfer to real life paper :( the only snippet i remember: “...in his white mouth, which had known only bread...”

"I, uh..." Jonathan Sims, a thousand times, 20XX

martin's job is PLAINLY to distract elias and elias barges in like "martin. i see you're trying to distract me." and martin's like "maybe i am!"

o, jonny took a breath. that's good

he wasn't hooked up to an EKG or anything? you spend long enough with no heartbeat that they're just like "i guess we can turn this off"

this episode about philosophical zombies sounds a lot like that NPC meme from a year or two ago... and it makes me kind of uncomfortable, the way this person inspects others to determine whether they are True Minds or Impostors based on their emotional expressions, their eyes... because i don't always do the correct or appropriate expressions, and would someone judge me as being a non-person who is trying and failing to imitate human emotions?

i generally don't enjoy ships that have more-or-less explicit canon support, but i can't say jon/martin isn't good

melanie blaming jon isn't right... no one had a better plan to stop the unknowing, did they? (they didn't!) didn't all of them agree on the plan and understand that they might die? (they did!) she's just imposing survivor's guilt upon him because he survived for supernatural reasons. but it's not like he eagerly embraced his new supernaturalness, or even asked for it outright! i think she's being unreasonable. i didn't like her insistence on trying to kill elias either, even though elias is a huge dick. what's with her?

wait, peter lukas is the lonely? (meme where calculations and equations whiz past me)

jonathan baa'd

oh, see. the bullet is making melanie act without reason. i get it now. can't say i think they had the best approach to getting the bullet out, but all's well that ends well (???)

martin is being prohibited from talking to jon >:I martin is on a first-name basis with peter lukas >:I...

martin grumbles, "i don't like being manipulated..." while obviously and continuously allowing himself to be manipulated

jon is afraid of and uncomfortable with what he's becoming, at least to a degree, right? but he seems to be going about his duties (i.e. feeding the eye) with vigor and without reluctance. is he really that motivated by his own desire to know and understand? who is he doing this for? is the eye's influence on him so strong that "doing what the eye wants" seems to manifest as what HE wants to do?

"He'd place it over the one he wore already, and he would larf and larf and larf" (from breacon’s statement... just heard it like this for some reason)

deep water could be the domain of both the buried and the vast, because you could lose yourself in the vast ocean, but experience the physical effects of being buried under thousands of feet of water...

so tom han was an avatar of the flesh but he ultimately died after being tortured by the spiral... right?

"we're not people, though, are we? not anymore." close enough, i'd say.

jonathan has deployed THREE "I, uh..."s in episode 131 alone and i want to smack him in real life. FOUR NOW. JON. JONATHAN SIMS THE REAL ACTOR. LISTEN... quit falling back on your "I, uh..."s. and if they're written into the script i'll punch whoever did that too. total of five in a single episode. never utter "I, uh..." again

i hope whoever's throat is okay after doing bone turner voice for a whole statement.

jonny sure needs saving quite often, doesn't he.

peter lukas being a slightly chipper advocate for becoming a follower of the lonely is very strange

neil lagorio and his whole cinematographic history is made up but they namedropped kevin costner, who is real

VERY, VERY GOOD laugh at 23:44 of episode 136

melanie getting her session recorded... i was doing audio transcription for a while and you'd definitely come across bits of therapy-type sessions that very much seemed like they should have been confidential.

i wonder if the eye ultimately turned its back on gertrude and allowed her to be killed. if jon could survive a collapsing building, could gertrude not have survived a couple of bullets? wouldn't the difference be the protection of the eye? [footnote added in later: of course now i see who turned their back on whom.]

i'm somewhat heartened to learn that agnes montague was, in fact, a heavily cursed individual, though she seemed to have embraced it to a degree... and she wasn't made of wax.

i like that jon now includes helen in his office politics briefing

basira's like "Edmund Halley" and jon's like "Halley's comet?" (like “Hale-ey”) and two minutes later jon's like "Edmund Hally" (not "Hale-y")

"What's this?" "OH... That's, uh... that's... my rib..." "Right." (tiny clunk of rib being set down)

so giving a statement puts a curse on you... or is it "having a statement extracted / being compelled" that puts a curse on you? and the resulting curse, the fear it reawakens, is that good for the eye, or is that good for the powers that initially caused the fear?

well, i heard a homestuck reference in one of the patreon names at the beginning of an episode, and who is surprised? of course, i'm not one to talk

episode 144- the english think their summer is bad... as a professional "hot weather is bad" person, i feel doubtful, because if the sky is grey, it is not as hot as it Could Be, and therefore one should quit one's bitching

first statement about the extinction... interesting. but hearing martin be a jerk to daisy makes me sad :(

the powers never tell avatars exactly what they need to be doing, but that's just concerning the means. the ends are always clear: the power gets fed. and all of the powers feed on fear. also jonny is horny for statements. i hope, but also doubt, that his harmful behavior is at least partially the spider's doing. oh, i see now that it's not. yeah.

jon wants to eat fresh and delicious statements produced just for him, instead of reconstituting the dusty old statements already in the archive

episode 148 - samson stiller gets a crush. but in all seriousness, is he becoming an avatar of the eye but like, not institute-related? is that a thing? i guess that would make sense, but still seems weird

episode 149 - considering ring -> rang -> rung, we seem to have stumbled upon spin -> span -> spun, and the compasses gently span around (9:40)

does martin have loneliness powers now? it's sad that he is getting lonely... as a lonely person, i know.

the lady on TV in episode 150 was just speaking simlish.

i really want jon to overcome his urge to forcefully take statements because i want to be able to root for him still

british podcasts really have a leg up over american podcasts, at least among american audiences, purely based on their interesting and varied accents

i can't say the gravedigger's envy doesn't make me myself feel like going to sleep in the cold dirt forever. but bad depression lately is also a factor, so

jonathan having to settle for reading already archived statements instead of harvesting fresh ones is exactly like a vampire (not the kind detailed in this series) who has to choose between hunting people to suck their blood or drinking bags of donated blood from a (near-endless) stockpile. there's an ethical choice with a clear right answer, but the urge is also understandable

jon following up gertrude's tape with just "fuck" was really good. now he's like "ok martin. let's run away together"

spent all day at work thinking about how i can't fuckin believe the first thing jon did when he heard how to escape the institute was to go tell martin like "there will be a great cost, but... we can elope now"

also if tim was still around jon would tell him the way out and he would do it right then and there, i'm 100% sure. like before jon was finished explaining tim would be like "the eyes? (grabs scissors) got it. (does the deed)"

earlier today i was just thinking that we would almost certainly hear gertrude's death on tape, especially given that we now understand tape recorders are wont to turn on autonomously whenever something important is happening. anyway then i came home and heard gertrude's death on tape

peter, as an avatar of the lonely, is easy to play like a cheap whistle because as someone who clearly hates spending time around other people, he is not keen to the symptoms of being played.

elias is like "you'll have to go into the lonely to get him" and jon's probably thinking "but then at least we'll be in the lonely... ~*~*~together~*~*~"

i think martin's whole thing for most of the series has been that he sounds a little doofy, for lack of a better word, and people constantly underestimate his intelligence. and now he has played peter lukas like a cheap whistle and forced me to realize that by taking for granted that he was being successfully manipulated by peter lukas, i too was underestimating martin... and his pure love for jon <:3c no but seriously i even remember explicitly making a mental note to remember that martin is smartin but it fell by the wayside as my emotions (of sadness that jon and martin seemed to be growing further apart) took precedent

i work a non-verbal job just doing mundane tasks and that gives me all the time in the world to think about things like "if they were to have jon and martin reunite in a tearful embrace, how would you convey the physical contact in an audio format? like, whap? soft thud?"

jon enters the lonely and voiceover peter comes in to try and factcheck the ship

i guess it makes sense that peter would try to do the ritual for the lonely all by himself

did he kill peter by asking him to death? or did peter just self-destruct rather than be forced to answer?

the way jon snapped martin out of the loneliness just by making him look at his face... that's powerful. as a lonely person, i know that the most cry-making thing you can realize when you feel alone is that another person is, in fact, there with you

martin went for a walk and now it's thunderstorming. i wonder if he came back as soon as it started raining and now he's standing nearby invisibly as jon reads the intimidating magnus statement. ...I GUESS NOT

i plan to read through the transcripts of all the episodes (as it’s faster than re-listening, though i might selectively re-listen) so that i may better understand some things and answer some questions in this post that i didn’t ultimately resolve. i can’t say i was paying 101% attention all the way through. also april is very far away

#the magnus archives

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booksmarting · 5 years

Text

olympian aesthetics!

A P H R O D I T E —— laughter loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

A P O L L O —— glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

A R E S —— armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world . fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

A R T E M I S —— keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. dishevelled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

A T H E N A —— discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armour that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

D E M E T E R —— soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

D I O N Y S U S —— drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

H E P H A E S T U S —— the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

H E R A —— resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under ‘ fuck it ’. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

H E R M E S —— devil-may-care smile. always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

P O S E I D O N —— storm with skin. colourful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

Z E U S —— thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. un-natural charisma. eloquence. bad ass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high-rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by — @fatalelity, you ANGEL. tagging — @edhelaran, @elerondo, @crowwl, @cruelonlytobekind, @dulcisebrietatem, @emptysculs, @hismanners, @fencetm, @decrstalker, @dragvnflare, @womenwritten, @amrefevr, @drdumaurier, @thedestrcyer, @talktoten, @exilekniight, @kaztael, @holmesdepot, @hiddensteel, @telegion, @trickstercaptain, @warringpeace, @wordgave, @killthebxy && whoever else wants to do it !!! these are just the blogs i know off by heart because i stalk them BUT LITERALLY ANYONE I FOLLOW !!!!!!!!! consider yourself tagged !!!!!!!

#ic: tagged memes.#aesthetics: she liked old books and warm tea.#ic: dossier.#ic: headcanons.#i really enjoyed doing this thank u for tagging me

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gotatext · 5 years

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claws my way out of the dirt like the goblin i am ..... hello thots, its nora, once again bringing you a revamped version of a muse i played yonks ago n some of u may have even written against... here is her pinterest.....

this is margaret greta, she’s a whole can of trauma spaghetti plastered over with a toothy grin and a lot of dad jokes. the only reason she’s in gifford really is bcos shes been put there as part of a witness protection program cos lots of police r monitoring livingstone so its deemed relatively safe.... haha... anyway she changes major all the time. she started off doing fine art but since then she’s done modules in architecture, film, bio-chemistry and is now dabbling in medicine.

CIS-FEMALE — ever hear people say GRETA O’DRISCOLL looks a lot like DIANA SILVERS? I think SHE is about 21, so it doesn’t really work. The MEDICINE major is a SOPHOMORE that is from DEADWOOD, SOUTH DAKOTA. They can be +CHARMING, but they can also be -EVASIVE. I think GEE might be SHEEP. They are living in YATES. ( nora. 23. gmt. she/her )

this bitch is the most restless creature u ever seen. before she came to livingstone, she’d lived in 8 different cities in 3 years.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

goes through phases of being intensely feminist and tweeting “men are trash i don’t need them” before flipping into being lonely and needy n wanting male attention again. tends to gravitate towards men who are just pieces of shit tbh like her friends are always like hun.... pick a nice boy..... but no.... she’ll go for the boxer with several arrest records for gbh or the small-town drug dealer just trying to hook her onto pills for a little extra cash, or the reformed sinner who thinks he’s being protective by reading all her texts and always knowing where she is..... n she always finds a way to spin it so that they Just Care About Her and aren’t a p.o.s

left school at 18 n didn’t go to uni, moved in w her boyfriend of the time instead, but soon got bored, n then went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was playing bass for a country n blues band. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea... pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming..... also this happened in 2017, he was mixed race and greta is white so naturally the police totally took her side. she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch

pretty easy to get along with (provided you don’t anger, provoke or question her too much) because she WANTS your character to be enthralled by her and will do whatever it takes to win them over. she wants everyone to love her

is That Girl who always knows where the parties are, and is always there, on the sofa, talking about institutionalised racism and trying to coerce you into a game of beer pong that she’ll definitely win. doesn’t really have one solid group of friends, just kind of on good terms with everyone and social butterflies about

has changed her major so many times. decision? who is she. currently studying medicine, but doesn’t rlly enjoy it. she’s very unmotivated and lazy and probably wouldn’t ahve bothered going to uni if she hadn’t been placed in one by a witness protection program. will probably change on to history or gender studies soon n just make up the extra credits by volunteering

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps. i hate her

plays bass guitar, has a teal green fender and it is her BABY. it’s covered in stickers about saving the planet and ending fracking and going vegan. she’s in an all-female punk band w agnes (n mayb jade i think) n they play gigs every now n then in grotty club basements full of druggy sweaty college kids

PERSONALITY: easy-going, sociable, observant, blunt, amiable, nihilistic, self-serving, laid back, independent, unmotivated, charming, lazy, impulsive, alluring. ESTP and a leo

LIKES: art, music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, DC comics, arcade games, candyfloss, deep red lipstick, marijuana, dogs, karaoke, Kate Moss, late-night strolls, zip-lining, chemistry, suspenders, cigarettes, herbal tea, gallows humour, cold coffee, long showers, brown eyes, tchaikovsky, dr. seuss, boiler house DJ sets, magnolias, decorative lamps, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

DISLIKES: bananas, coffee, Woody Allen, mental mathematics, children, Trump, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, Wes Anderson films, spoken word poetry, the general mentality of cheerleading squads (despite being on one)

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

wanted plots: since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships, and girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight, and I want like, fellow medicine students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. ppl she did a few modules with before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with, like she did a few art modules, a bit of film, n some architecture before switching to medicine, though she’ll probs switch course again soon. ppl who she runs track with. someone she’s trying to make a zine with. here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

#livingintro #this is such a long boi....... waht the fuck.... u dont need to read the bio the summary notes are long enough fuking hell

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