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love-takes-work · 3 years

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Virtual Program: Happily Ever After Hours with Directors and Producers Rebecca Sugar and Ian Jones-Quartey

I attended this virtual event and am now sharing a summary! I got a ticket!

Rebecca Sugar and Ian Jones-Quartey were invited to appear on the Disney Happily Ever After Hours program for a Pride focus. This was run with Tracie Timmer, Bri Bertolaccini, and Maya Colbert.

Please read more below to learn about Rebecca and Ian answering questions regarding fighting for LGBTQIA content in kids’ media, inspiration in their young lives, advice for queer creators, the story behind the antiracist PSAs, music and storytelling evolution from their early comics days through Adventure Time and building Steven Universe and OK K.O.!, and all kinds of other tidbits, with a Q&A at the end. This is an important one for all of us LGBTQIA artists and fans.

You can only watch the interview on the WDFMuseum Facebook and YouTube channel the next day after this was posted for the next 48 hours, unless you want to become a member and have full access.

The virtual program begins: Bri Bertolaccini, while switching up pronouns between they and she, introduces Rebecca Sugar along with accomplishment lists, and introduces Ian Jones-Quartey with he/him pronouns and his list of accomplishments.

The first question is about what did they relate to in animation that brought them into the industry: Rebecca related to nerdy kids like Dib (Invader Zim), Lisa Simpson (The Simpsons), and Jack Skellington (The Nightmare Before Christmas) because of being a Jewish kid who wanted to understand Christmas but never got to have it for themself. They liked Utena because they related to being bi and nonbinary (Utena has relationships with guys and girls, and wears the boys’ school uniform)--and of course Usopp from One Piece.

Rebecca was attracted to all characters and no characters at the same time, and loved scrappy underdogs. Ian felt that you HAVE to identify with characters onscreen because they aren't human. He also loves scrappy underdogs--Usopp, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck (Looney Tunes)--and he loves the idea of turning things around on people when you don't have the upper hand. As the son of immigrants, he related to Goku (Dragon Ball) because he was "divorced from his home planet." He found it easy to relate to things he saw on animation. He was the Ninja Turtles! But he was Dennis the Menace! It was all about flexibility.

Bri brings up that both Rebecca and Ian worked on Adventure Time and asks how that brought them both into where they are now. Rebecca talks about indie comics, and giving a comic to Phil Rynda, who got Rebecca a test on Adventure Time. They had to take an outline and board it out, and hadn't even known this kind of boarder position even existed anymore. Rebecca got a job as a revisionist, then got promoted to boarder.

Ian was working on Venture Bros. and Rebecca had already moved out to do Adventure Time. Ian did a test for Regular Show and Adventure Time during a lull for Venture Bros. Ian didn't feel he was a good fit for writing on Adventure Time--he says he almost thought writing on that show was like poetry!--but he got in as a revisionist because they liked his drawings. He ended up in charge of revisions once Rebecca was already moved on. They never quite worked hand in hand on the show but were always crossing paths. They discussed the “Lady & Peebles” episode and all the great revisions and special poses that happened--one of Ian's favorite episodes. Rebecca says they'd worked together on personal work and outside work so it was cool to get to play to each other's strengths at work too.

Rebecca speaks about “It Came From the Nightosphere” being their first board on the show. She originally wrote "bombastic" songs for their idea of having a more musical episode, but they wanted her to make it more of an intimate little song--the Fry Song was what came out of that revision, and Rebecca had to work really hard to get the courage to pitch with singing. Ian and Rebecca practiced on the roof. Bri pointed out hearing "I'm Just Your Problem" on Tiktok all the time, which surprised both of them.

Bri then asked about pitching their shows and asks for the history. Rebecca says Cartoon Network actually came to her to ask about it--she really wanted to have that option to have her own show, but didn't expect it to happen at this time in her career. She and Ian both were asked to pitch a show. She brings up wanting to do work that she wasn't going to get sick of, so of course she chose a show inspired by her brother Steven. The main question she wanted to address was about gendered shows--she wanted to scramble gender in her own show, and try to understand why she had such a bad reaction herself to shows "for girls" as a kid. Her show was designated as a show for 6- to 11-year-old boys, but that was exactly what she liked to watch as a kid (even though she felt weirdly guilty about not liking shows "for girls"). She wanted to make Steven Universe have elements for everyone, so no one would ever feel like the show wasn't for them.

Bri asks why is it important to tell gender expansive/LGBT+ stories in animation. Rebecca says it was always so limited in terms of content for, about, and by queer people. She thinks it was super critical to get animation out there for these kids because bigotry exists against creators and content itself--and it's deliberate, the violence inherent in doing that to viewers during their formative years, it's got a lasting effect. They latched onto "queer coded villains" because that's all there was, and felt that was at least something, even though it was associated with negativity and was hurtful. Ian thinks even though this was in a sci-fi story, it was intended to tell these specific audience members that they existed, as they put themselves into their work. Rebecca brings up how exciting it was to include stuff that's usually a joke but it wasn't framed as a joke. They never felt any affirmation for bi kids in TV shows they liked--only for people who were sort of like her that were attracted to men--and if you saw same-sex attraction or gender-nonconforming behavior in a show it was attached to jokes or villainy. She really wanted to make work that included authentic portrayals of insecurities and struggles that non-cis and non-straight people would feel validated by.

Bri says she can't wait to see the next generation and what they can do after having gotten to have these shows in their childhood. She asks to know how Ian took what he learned on Steven Universe to OK K.O.!. Steven went forward first, and Ian poured his work into that while being told OK K.O.! needed more development. By the time he got to push his show forward, it was very much sharing DNA with Steven. With his show as more of a "hard comedy," it is still a somewhat similar show, with a lot of true specific experiences. Rebecca says Steven had so much of Ian in it, and that his excited-for-adventures persona was very much like K.O., which after Ian left, Steven became "a miserable teenager," which Rebecca jokes was like herself. Ian brings up the the boardwalk in the show and how a little version of OK K.O.! was inside Steven Universe. The whole "thing" about Steven was having two sides, and having visual shortcuts to his magic side and his human side was useful. K.O. also has two sides: wanting to be a hero and dealing with buried trauma. Both shows share that. They helped each other a lot on each other shows, and Rebecca got to write for the ending.

Bri points out that the two have a great work/life relationship. Then she brings up the Antiracist PSAs and wants to know the story on how those got made. Rebecca had finished the show and decided to talk to Estelle about the "empty corporate responses" to racial inequality. Rebecca had some calls with Estelle who "used her star power" to move mountains. They did a $100,000 fundraiser for National Bailout and then continued to work with Chromosphere to do the antiracist PSAs. They wanted to support marginalized artists and they were glad it was well-funded. Bri liked the message and the style of them.

Then they move on to a Q&A.

Tracie asks Ian if any other characters besides Nanefua are based on people he knows. He acknowledges Theodosia Okoh being his grandmother and being the inspiration for Nanefua. He thought of her as his inspiration and his "permission" to do art. The Pizzas were definitely based on his family--Jenny is his cousin (same name!), for instance. But most of the other people were more like archetype mixtures and inspirations from friends they have. Ian says Enid on OK K.O.! is based on Rebecca. They joke that any group of two characters will usually somehow become symbolic of the two of them, most notably Ruby and Sapphire, or even Amethyst and Pearl.

Enid is also based on a cashier that Ian saw, and he used to work at a supermarket and wanted to invoke the feeling of looking up to an older worker. He remembered a deadpan cashier not responding so well to a bag boy trying to flirt with her, with an exchange like "How are you today?" "Well I'm HERE, so." Mr. Gar was actually based off of a vice principal he had in high school. One was named Mr. Sandoval, and he remembers watching the yard from the school during science class. He saw two kids trying to cut school and this vice principal ran across the yard to tackle the kids and stop them from cutting class. He figured oh, that's what a real authority figure is like. The science class really had a reaction. You didn't want to have to be under that guy's thumb, but at the same time, that was cool. You just have these moments--you can turn them into characters.

Next question: What would you consider your biggest accomplishment and what are you most proud of?

For Ian, it's tough to say because he reveres getting to work with people he respects and enjoys working with; it's way better for him than winning awards. It's "a continuum of great things and great people." He looks forward to more creative collaboration.

As for Rebecca, they're proud of breaking down the barriers for LGBTQIA media. Internally, building up to the wedding on "Reunited"--and they were pitching for a full year before they got it through--seeing how the landscape transformed because of that pushing, how wonderful it was that the bigoted notes weren't going to be given to creators anymore. She sees the changes already, even in other studios, and she's really proud of the part they played. Ian acknowledges that even though there are some broken boundaries, the fight is far from over. Creators still have to deal with challenges and push back. Rebecca says a lot of gathering of resources and support had to be done under the radar early on on Steven, but now it's easier to coordinate with other people who are trying to do this in media currently. She's part of the GLAAD Kids and Family media group and can share strategies. She feels healthier now because it's not like it was where they couldn't even talk about it. She hopes the healthiness is brought to the audience as well.

Next question: What advice would you give to queer creators who are seeking to tell queer stories in TV animation?

Rebecca: DO IT! RIGHT NOW! Also take care of yourself. Persevere, push, don't take no for an answer--but it is emotionally exhausting. So take your time and put your mental health above other things. There's a lot of pressure to think about the kids who need this content, what it could do to open doors in the industry, but don't do it at your own expense. You deserve to be healthy. Hopefully this is less true for younger people, but Rebecca felt she did not have that right as a child--to be healthy, to belong. You may feel the audience you're helping is more important than you, but that voice is part of the problem. And if you're okay from that point, push for the biggest, funniest, hugely entertaining content that no one could say no to.

And Ian thinks confidence is really important in pitching and pushing. Just do it, create characters, don't save it for when you have a project--make it. He also stresses forgiving yourself for not getting it right immediately. Messiness is necessary, accidents are necessary. Rebecca feels that independent comics inspired many of those skills for her. Ian points out that they were both making free comics on their own to tell stories somehow to reflect what they loved. Rebecca says they both just get to a point where they'd think a story in their main work is actually just something they did already in Pug Davis or with Hero (RPG World)--themes keep coming back, through lines will recur. Rebecca recommends quantity--make stuff and see what works.

Next question: Rebecca, on a podcast you once said you had a safe pitch that you could have offered instead of going with SU--what was that other supposedly more marketable show?

Rebecca doesn't remember saying it, though they acknowledge Steven was pitched intentionally with marketability in mind. Ian remembers having a separate space-related show pitch as well as OK K.O.!, but he felt that he wasn't vibing with it while trying to pitch it. They both ended up cramming personal ideas into the show they did get.

Next question: Advice for those trying to work in visual development?

Rebecca thinks it helps just having a lot of personal work. The successful VisDev people Rebecca knows have lots of personal paintings with variety. Build up your portfolio, but don't make it to cater to who you're showing it to. Make art that's what you want to do. It helps to develop your voice so people will seek you out and want you to do your thing in their project. In further discussion, Rebecca says she loves being able to acknowledge different artists having their choices that they love which you can see in multiple pieces. That way you don't say art is good or bad, it's that you agree with choices or don't, and it turns into a conversation almost. Ian thinks that once you understand art as a series of choices, you'll feel less like you love or hate a whole piece of art. You'll also develop a deeper appreciation of someone you love. You might even be able to track the chain of inspiration through various art pieces, including music. You can hear threads in them. Rebecca recommends this approach because that way you can be inspired by someone and reframe it in your own work rather than copying the lines and colors, so to speak.

Next question: Can they discuss the barriers in more detail for LGBTQ issues, and how they navigated the barriers?

Rebecca feels like it really started when they wrote "What Was Missing" on Adventure Time--acknowledging earlier references to a relationship between Bubblegum and Marceline, she talked to Adam Muto about how cool it would be if these two queer ladies used to have a relationship. Rebecca had a hard time writing music about them if the relationship was over, so she wanted to include "juice" and have some beef between them that Marceline wasn’t over.

It seemed to Rebecca like after the episode was finished, everyone was supporting it, and they felt like Rebecca had figured Marceline out. She had thought there must be something deep inside Marceline that she's covering up with her coolness. But once the episode came out, "a hammer came down" from VERY high, with reprimands and commentary like "don't you understand you work for a company?"--how could they do something so subversive. It was so not allowed to even imply they'd had a relationship.

Rebecca felt that she had made this character very much like herself, being a bi character, and she knew people online recognized it, but it was getting stomped on. She speaks a little on how she didn’t know at the time that you could still be bi regardless of what your relationship is, and loved that people could tell Marceline was bi. So when she got her own show Rebecca really wanted to keep pushing and wanted to have queer people in a relationship while it's still going on, not already over.

Fusion as a vehicle to let this relationship happen was very strategic, and they set it up so you couldn't take this out of the show. You already know Garnet, you love her, and then you find out something that explains her and it would be too late to yank this element out of the show. But the same thing happened when the episode was being criticized--higher-ups asked Ruby to be changed to a boy, they said she couldn't be in a relationship with Sapphire, and Ian got reprimanded for confirming their terminology and relationship on Twitter, etc.

But they could all see that this was important to the audience. They had been validated and knew they were doing the right thing. They had done it for the right people.

Rebecca mentions how kids, very young people, got what she was doing, even though adults were the ones screaming about it and thinking they had to be protected. Kids had no problem with it. So the younger people's support really made her optimistic and kept her motivated to keep doing it. She didn't want the kids supporting this content to become these adults.

Ian says Rebecca's work had direct impact. The wedding episode changed everything in Ian's opinion--he had his bi character Enid not be allowed to go on a date early on, but post-"Reunited," the notes they used to get weren't happening anymore. They still had to fight for queer content and got commentary on it, but "Reunited" was a huge example they could point to as acceptable content. You can show queer relationships on TV and the world won't end. Apparently on Clarence, Jeff's moms were not allowed to be called moms before that. They told Rebecca, "If you get a gay wedding, everyone's gonna want a gay wedding." And she said, "great!" Once they were allowed to do it, they couldn't say no. Though . . . well, they do. They still say no.

Which is why coordination is so important, continuing to fight. When they first showed "Jailbreak," same-sex marriage wasn't legal, and when the show started Don't Ask Don't Tell was still a policy. It wasn't until after they left Cartoon Network that LGBTQIA protections were even in existence nationwide. There was actually no GLAAD group for kids and family until after Steven Universe existed. That pushed Rebecca to work harder to get messages out to counter the idea that LGBTQIA content is inherently adult.

At this point, the event is out of time, so the hosts wrap up and thank Ian and Rebecca for being part of this. The end!

#steven universe #rebecca sugar #ian jones-quartey #pride #lgbtqia #myblog

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kimabutch · 3 years

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I’ve already alluded to it plenty here, so: let me tell you about my friends’ TTRPG game.

So, almost two months ago, my friends @hgb94 and @nilim started what was supposed to be a oneshot of Ships That Pass, a two-person game about queer spaceships in love. Because they like to talk a lot (affectionate), they didn’t finish. So they played a second session, and still didn’t finish. And then, because they liked their characters, they started adding extra scenes and secondary characters. And then they started adding flashback scenes to create extra context for the characters. And then they threw out the rules entirely, and it became largely-improvised collaborative storytelling.

Oh, and they’d recorded it all from the beginning, so they started editing the present-day and flashback scenes together to create episodes, complete with music, soundscaping, and narrated scene introductions. Not for anyone but themselves, but, well, I did start listening.

But the story, friends, the story. It’s so good. It starts off simply: the Elysium (Ely), a luxury cruise ship and a bit of a prankster, meets the Scythe (Scy), a biomedical research ship and a stickler for rules, while both of them are near a plasma cloud. They start talking, and Ely’s sense of humour enchants Scy as much as Scy’s stories of the wonderful phenomena she studies enchant Ely. They start finding excuses to pass by each other. Scy introduces Ely to an ice storm. Ely starts writing poetry for Scy. They’re frankly adorable.

But things aren’t that simple. Both ships have close bonds with their captains and crew. Ely has been flying with her captain, Richard, a kind, gruff, and Tired man, for fifteen years; Scy’s been with her cool but Disaster captain Manon for less time, but they care for each other deeply. However, in this world, AI are seen as property — and dangerous property at that. Fifteen years ago, there was a brutal war fought over AI rights, where the colonialist Coalition used propaganda about “rogue AI” to justify invading other planets, and the rebels fought (and lost) to try to protect their ships and planets.

But that was fifteen years ago — it’s all “settled” now. Supposedly.

When one of Manon’s crew dies of illness, both she and Scy are brought in for psychological evaluations, and Manon’s suspiciously pro-AI and anti-MAN (Monitors of Artificial Norms) sentiments put her under further investigation by the MAN. They assign her an Agent, Oliver (Ollie), who comes on board to monitor both Scy and Manon.

Fortunately for them, Ollie’s a young but incredibly bright Agent on his first mission, and particularly sympathetic to AI. Doubly fortunate, he’s the protégé of Theresa Williams, a ruthless senior man Agent who’s been plotting undercover revenge against the MAN for over a decade because they reprogrammed her ship. Williams “recruited” Ollie out of university — that is, discovered Ollie had pro-AI views that might get him in trouble and then blackmailed his family so he’d join the MAN and be “protected.” She’s mentored him ever since, and despite her insistence that attachments are a weakness, she cares deeply for him.

Williams assigned Scy’s case file to Ollie after she noticed Scy & Ely’s anomalous flight patterns; she wants to help. She hopes no one else notices this dangerous pattern — particularly because Richard and Manon should not be meeting. See, while Richard and Manon know that Ely & Scy are in love, they don’t know who the other’s captain is.

Manon doesn’t know that Ely’s captain is Richard, her mother Elske’s lover, who was almost her stepfather — who was forcibly conscripted to the pro-Coalition side, while her mother fought and died for the rebels. Richard, who never contacted Manon after the war.

On the other hand, Richard doesn’t know that Scy’s captain is Manon, the daughter of the woman he loved; the woman who he saw die, for whom he punched out a Commanding Officer, for whom he was ready to die. Manon, whom Richard was forbidden by the MAN from contacting after the war, who was used as leverage for Richard’s silence about the war.

When they find out who the other is, well, that’s when things really start going to shit. Because Agents aside from Williams and Ollie have started noticing what’s going on, and that puts everyone in danger: Scy, Ely, Manon, Richard, Ollie, and Williams. To get out of this mess, the captains & ships will have to trust the rogue Agents, Manon will have to trust Richard, and they all will have to believe there’s a life outside of the MAN’s control.

And that’s about where I am in the story so far — I’m told it’s not even halfway done. I am literally bouncing with excitement for every single upcoming episode.

And like! The story is beautiful — it’s a queer romantic love story between spaceships yes, but also a queerplatonic love story between ships and captains, a story of love lost and found, of found families, of redemption, of healing, of learning to care and hope after trauma. And the characters, goddamn, I love every single one of them: Scy, sweet, reserved, a little naïve, a bit of a know-it-all but in the most loving way; Ely, hilarious, protective, and hopeful even after 200 years; Manon, simultaneously carefree and incredibly angry; Richard, weighed down by years of guilt but learning to be courageous; Ollie, who sees the best in everyone even after years of being told that it will only hurt him; and Williams, cold and ruthless and vengeful but really broken-hearted and more kind than she wants to admit.

And that’s not even mentioning the side characters; at this point, both players play over half a dozen characters each — some love-to-hate villains, some loveable goofs. And they play them so well, like, I’ve played with both my friends in the past and I know how good they are at role-play — but they’re still blowing me away with the strength of their RP in every single goddamn scene. And their shockingly good audio editing makes it feel… well, genuinely like a real podcast.

It’s just… amazing. I’m so proud and astounded by my friends, and feel so lucky that I get to sit in on (and write fanfic for, and create a fanvid for, and make a fanwiki for) this story. It’s really cool, and like. Wow. I have cool friends.

#ttrpgs #thanks for reading if you do :D :D :D #and Babs & Heather I hope you're ok with me spilling all your secrets here #my stuff #ships that pass

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yournameyn · 3 years

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Feeling Deeply: Chapter 3

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage Fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Summary: The story of two deeply feeling nerds who find themselves in an arranged marriage. Something neither of them really wanted but are now discovering just how much each needed. Away from their childhoods, their families & their homes, Namjoon & Brishti (the OC) are privileged immigrants who slowly build a home, a family & a true sense of self, together in 1960s London. Please note this is not the typical immigrant experience of that timespace and I’ve taken many-a-leap to write the fluuuufffiness I wanted to write.

A/N: It’s unabashed fluff. And eventual smut but I hope you’re okay with a really slow burn. Like, reaaaally slow. Both our characters are introverts & met as strangers so it’s going to take them a while to get the *ahem* fire going.

Big big big love to @sahmfanficbts, @mintjoonlep, @holdinbacksecrets, @sunshyngal, @xjoonchildx - who give me so much love and encouragement & whose straight up genius writing makes me swooooon!

Characters: Brishti is our OC. She’s a feminist, obviously. She’s Indian, wheatish in colour, curvy & slightly short. Brishti is bengali & her name means ‘Rain’. Her pet name is RimJhim which means the sound of rain. (Namjoon calls her Rim & she calls him Joon) This whole story is a tribute to Forever Rain.

The Namjoon in this fic is what I imagine he would have been had he not followed his dreams at the age of 13. Hopefully, I’m able to do justice to the idea as I write ahead.

Current Chapter: London, late 1963. Brishti & Namjoon meet her colleagues. They listen to the then-rising band The Beatles & take a strong liking to one particular track, if you know what I mean. Again, sorry to spoil but there’s no smut yet. I was not kidding when I said it’s a slooooow burn. Next chapter, it’s happening. There's not much conversation in this chapter, either. Is this almost 3k words of just CONTEXT to the actual smut or just a tease - you tell me!

Also, someone else we love is also introduced in this chapter!

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Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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Namjoon loved his weekends now. They were like a real couple, Brishti and him… setting the never ending “final touches” in their home, together. They went out to pubs and gardens, libraries and cafes together. And yet, to both their secret dismay, they hadn't moved ahead from that one hug they had shared. They'd played, instead, with words and been more and more intimate in their conversations.

Brishti introduced him to her colleagues - her group among the staff at the British Library. Working there was her pride & these folk were her joy. This was nerve-wracking for Namjoon because he knew how much she loved them. These were her people. Her true tribe. It was almost like he was meeting her parents. Instead of two indian elders (whom he had spoken to on the only international call she had made since their wedding), he found himself faced with a weird band of strangers. An English couple Harry & Kate who had adopted the library instead of a child, an elder woman from Japan, Sayuri-san - whose stories Brishti narrated to Namjoon all the time, a Korean guy (his age!) & Yana, a girl, Brishti’s age who was half English, half Iranian & completely in love with Sam, the black historian from America, as Brishti had reported. As they settled in for their picnic in Hyde Park, Namjoon tried his best to hide his shock when he found Sam was - one, a girl & two, as tall as him. He wondered which attribute threw him off more. Still, he was completely enjoying himself with Brishti’s Unlikely Gang of Weirdos that Will Save The World. That’s what she called them. Sayuri-san agreed - They were all groovy outcasts who had somehow clawed their way into the (apparently) cutthroat world mainstream librarians.

Brishti was glad to see Namjoon really hit it off with the only other Korean she knew, the guy who’d told her about the only place in London that sold black bean noodles, made the right way. Namjoon had almost cried when she had brought them over from work. The two of them spoke as if they had been thick as thieves for years. They talked about Korean poetry and the folk music they had to participate in their childhoods. They spoke about the music archive section of the library, which was heaven for Min Yoongi. The passion in Yoongi’s eyes when he spoke about maybe someday taking a class about world music appreciation was something Namjoon wished to have too, but wasn’t yet ready to admit.

As they were packing up their picnic, the conversation flowed to a new band in the country. Brishti spoke about how every young girl she had met recently just could not stop talking about how groovy The Beatles are. The elders in charge of the music archive brushed them off as a fad but she was insistent to bring it up every meeting - after all, it was teenage girls that had popularised & helped usher in the lyrical music of Vivaldi. Or of Lisztomania - that popularised the soft romantic tones of Liszt which formed the base of the modern love song. Namjoon loved to see her almost up in arms, struggling to find a better word for the admiration that girls had for music and musicians.

“It’s not hysteria… or fanaticism… it- it’s just love.” She had said. No one disagreed. In fact, everyone in her group was persuaded to (at least) give The Beatles a listen over the weekend.

And so, This evening, A Hard Day’s Night played as they arranged books & records at home. Brishti was arranging the books, apparently not having had enough of the task despite working as a full time librarian. Namjoon’s heart ached when he thought about how Brishti loved her job. Thankfully his mind never stayed on that thought for long. Namjoon wished he could pay attention to the song. These days, paying attention to anything but Brishti was almost impossible. The smallest movement in her, the smallest stir intrigued him.

Meanwhile, Brishti had been trying to figure out a way of getting him to touch her &… as silly as that sounded to her rational mind she couldn’t really come out and say it. Night after night when they’d stayed up talking about things or listening to music or just simply reading their respective books, on the floor or by the window with their legs sprawled out in front of each other, she wished he’d touch her… that somehow maybe he’d notice her feet. Strange as it was, she kept thinking about his hands, his fingers tracing the contour of her ankle while she didn’t turn one page of her book for almost an hour.

She understood the problem - both of them were so hyper-aware of each other while pretending not to be that an accident couldn’t really occur. Things had to be done & Brishti thought about how she shouldn’t let tradition dictate who makes the first move. She also kicked herself for not following tradition and stopping him from taking his pillow & blanket away to the couch on their wedding night they were supposed to sleep on the same bed. It made her heart race that she could sleep next to this Korean Greek God-like feminist man. Ufff. She was covered in tense knots everywhere and anytime she even thought of making a move, the fear in her would make her do something else - like unpack all the books into a makeshift bookcase.

They were facing in opposite directions in the same room and Brishti couldn’t help glancing back at Namjoon again and again. The broad expanse of his back made her long to hug him again. They hadn’t touched each other since she let go of the hug. It made her ache, the memory of him moving away from her. Next time they touch, she wouldn’t let go first - of this she was certain.

Brishti looked at him again & smiled, wondering how someone so tall could look so tiny & cute. Namjoon did look surprisingly tiny, poring over the vinyls & neatly arranging them. She smiled thinking about how he had spent some time wondering if the records should be kept chronologically or alphabetically.

Finally, he had announced, “Ofcourse! I have it! The category has to be mood! The...” Brishti loved the small pauses Namjoon took to find the perfect word. “The story of each album and the feeling it brings out!” The way he smiled, pleased with his decision created a flutter in her heart.

Looking at him poring over each song in each album trying to discern what the overall feeling of it was, she felt an unbearable urge to tease him, to disturb his cataloguing. She would go over and irritate him… probably tickle his waist or blow in his ears. Or maybe just nuzzle his neck. Brishti wondered if these things would actually irritate Namjoon or perhaps lead to something else... The thought made her blush so fiercely, she turned to face her pile of books. Brishti wished she could walk over, silently demand a space in Namjoon’s lap, he would throw out anything that crowded his lap & she would sit there, being cuddled, enveloped in him & talk about songs… if she could talk, at such a moment that is.

She needed to stop staring at him and yet, she couldn’t help but look... She was a warm-blooded woman after all. And Kim Namjoon was a particularly delicious man. It wasn’t so much that he was tall… plenty of men were tall. (She rolled her eyes thinking how most everyone was taller than her.) Unlike other men, though, Namjoon was not awkward or gangly. He had wide shoulders and a gorgeous neck. She had to actively keep her eyes focussed on something else when she could see the contours of his chest.

In that first week of them living together she wanted him. She felt the heat of being seen by those sharp beautiful eyes that held a deep fire in them. Brishti found herself thinking more and more about how his back looked, how it would feel to be cuddled up against that broad beautiful chest, how it would feel to touch him and to be touched by him. She blushed & laughed to herself when her spontaneous thought was that she’d like to “climb that tree” - whenever Namjoon stood up after being scrunched over his table, writing. That yearning awakened a much fiercer part of Brishti -

Why couldn’t she?! He was her husband. They have to come closer at some point, so what was she waiting for? Without a second thought, her body moved to get up & walk over to him. But as it had happened every time, her mind caught up to her at the very last minute. As Brishti walked over, bent, stretched out... for a pile of books close to him. She was close enough to touch him. And still, she just picked up the books & walked back. Thankfully for Brishti, she had a natural sort of nonchalance. Something Namjoon envied. Brishti did not know what this little stunt of hers did to him. Namjoon, with his fists balled, had to hold himself back in that moment. He had to stop himself from grabbing her; from pulling her into his lap and having his way with her.

The gentle thread-like tug he had felt when he’d first seen Brishti’s photos... it had become a magnetic pull now. Shocking and also somehow inevitable.

It had been more than a month of them living together and Namjoon was wrestling with something. An idea, apparently. It was as though an idea was caught in a vast net that he had laid out across the ocean of his mind. But he was having trouble fishing it out. He understood there was no point forcing it, that the idea, the thought would emerge when it, or when he was ready.

Taking his time, slowly, Namjoon was understanding how he had done the perfect thing for her, accidentally. He was confused too, when his instinct told him to let his bride sleep alone on their marital bed the first night they had moved in this flat. He had reasoned that it was the decent thing to do. Unknowingly, he gave her the time to explore, to own that space; Not crowding her with his body. Not invading her with expectations that, no matter how silent, would be blaringly evident. That was the right thing to do. Then.

Now things felt different. Now, it felt like she had made that space, this whole home hers. But then that’s where his thought-net felt stuck. The thought he wanted to fish out kept pulling at him, telling him she needed something else now. Like Brishti craved something else now. He wondered if she, like him, craved touch. Was that why her body instinctively moved, stretched, inched closer towards him these days. Was this why he’d found his shirt among the blanket instead of the laundry basket the other day?

Namjoon tried to shake off these thoughts again - they felt dangerous, explosive. What was happening? He looked back at his beautiful wife and saw her stretch her arms, then her abdomen, all the way till her hips and then bend forward to touch her toes. She mewled, very softly when she did that. Namjoon felt the familiar flip in his stomach again. This time, thankfully, the thought leapt up within reach too.

Namjoon suddenly understood just how feline Brishti is. Somehow, it was a key he needed. The idea surged through him & made him stand up. Because it wasn’t just an idea, it was an epiphany. Brishti looked at him, her eyes asking, saying, expecting something he didn’t understand fully.

The tingle that ran down his spine told him he was about to.

“You okay?” Brishti asked, concerned & embarrassed because the move she expected hadn’t come. But then again, it was probably too much to think Namjoon had stood up to carry her & throw her on their bed. Wasn’t it?

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room looking confused. Namjoon recovered & asked, “Coffee?”

Brishti smiled & nodded. Namjoon rushed to the kitchen. The catching of this thought excited him. Because after living with her for almost a month, he had just now realised it is this attribute - of being feline-ly feminine or femininely feline - that is what makes his body almost overpower any semblance of restraint his mind had imposed.

At first it seemed silly but soon Namjoon realised it isn’t. Not at all. It really clicked in place like the right key, the precise note does - he understood how to BE with her. Be there for the feline creature-like woman that Brishti was revealing herself to be: The way she walked, slowly almost moodily… letting her feet touch and caress each surface her feet felt. She would be walking across the room but would stop just to walk back and forth, softly, in a way that one can’t really call pacing at all. And everytime she touched something she liked, or saw or tasted something she loved, she made these small sounds that would make Namjoon’s heart melt. They were always half-way between a purr and a moan and they made him wonder what pleasure would make her sound like. Namjoon thought about how Brishti is graceful but her grace, like the curves of her beautiful body, aren’t timid; How, it’s a grace that announces itself... sometimes even before she walks in.

It isn’t the only thing that attracted him to her, not by a far cry. Namjoon thought about how he loves her mind, her words. But this felt, somehow, more… more visceral or... wanting to be. Could something formless long to be touched?; To become tangible, touchable? This feeling, in his chest and his gut. This feeling within him, it jumps, flips every time she walks by. These days it seems like Brishti walks by closer and closer each time she passes him. Like she needs to feel the texture of his skin the same way she needs to feel the slight drag of the rug on the soles of her feet. And it just adds more depth to this deep cavernous feeling within him. Instinctual whispers echoing within-

Why does it feel like he needs to touch a fragrance?

Like all he needs to do is reach out?

Like the moment he will reach out, an essence, an aroma will become an experience?

It felt like Brishti was calling out to him silently. That magnetic pull was stronger than ever and it was pulling him, drawing him to her, telling him to reach out, so she can find her way to him. That feeling, the way he was being pulled… that was feline. Like she needed him to reach out so she could make him hers too. And then, then it happened. The first four notes of ‘And I love her’ played and pulled him to her.

In that moment, in their 7th week together, as Brishti was tracing the lines of Namjoon’s back, gawking at him, thinking about this man - this gorgeous, curious, wonderful man - as her husband… a thought so fantastical it would make her squirm in her seat. Just as she was recovering from the thought, releasing the tension in her shoulders. The knots he didn’t know he caused, Namjoon kept the cups of coffee aside and extended his hand.

‘I give her all my love, that’s all I do…” To him, the instant she did it again, - the stretching her arms all the way up. The little moan she made every time she did that, the way her back arched and highlighted all her curves… it drove him, his body, his instinct to reach out.

“And if you saw my love, you’d love her too.”

The stomach flipped, again. This time, though, his instinct acted before his mind knew what he was supposed to do. Thankfully, his mind caught up -

He had just reached out. Reached out for her to claim him. But to one who didn’t know everything that had been going on inside both their hearts, it would look like he was inviting her to dance. Brishti looked at his hand and then at his eyes and suddenly Namjoon understood the reason for this magnetic pull... these lyrics is what she was saying all along -

“A love like ours could never die, as long as I have you near me...”

She took his hand & left no distance between them. Brishti realised there was music playing in the room only after she took Namjoon’s hand. Before this, she could only hear her own heartbeat, sharpened to an intensity never before experienced. Sharpened to a glint in a way that only love can. Love… and unmistakable, undeniable lust. Her heart had been beating with so much longing it had clouded everything else.

Now, in this moment, with his heart so close to hers, she could finally hear the music. This is what she had needed. This is what her heart had been pining for. And she knew. Without the shadow of a doubt she knew... he had heard her.

Brishti moved to the simple guitar strings that were tugging them both. The melody deepened each time the same four notes played. And each time they rooted deeper in the soil of her heart, she moved him too. His hands on her waist, caressing her curves everytime the four notes played. And they played over and over again… Namjoon followed the lyrics and sang along with his beautiful deep dark chocolate voice in her ears, saying -

“And I love her...”,

And his strong arms around her. How could she… Brishti, even if her name didn’t mean the rain, how could she have resisted pouring?

“Bright are the stars that shine, dark is the sky, I know this love of mine will never die...”

This evening was the first time they’d really touched each other. Stood so close to each other. Moved together.

------------------------------------------------------

Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please let me know what you think! Get into my messages about it! I would love to hear what you felt about this!

This is the song that's mentioned here in case anyone is curious.

#bts kim namjoon #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics #forever rain

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moonlightserenadeeznutz · 3 years

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luna for the headcanons thing pls pls pls

Yes!!! I love giving Luna headcanons, so here ya go bestie!

(Read under cut)

Luna Lovegood headcanons

First of all, definitely a trans girl, no doubt about that. She lived in a very open environment and was able to explore her gender identity at a young age. Her mother sewed her dresses to wear, long, flowing garments that Luna thought were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Her father taught her how to make flower crowns and crowns of leaves, and she’d wear them with her dresses.

She didn’t have to come out to her parents. Her femininity at a young age simply led to her simply stating that she was a girl, and that her name was Luna. Her parents were very accepting (and Xenophilius is trans himself because fuck you of course he is, so he was super supportive of Luna).

She named herself after the moon because her parents loved astrology and they taught her all the different planets and their moons, and all the different stars in the sky and how to spot the constellations.

The Lovegoods were definitely pagan, I mean they were all about nature and spirituality. They always marked every single holiday, staying up all night on the solstices, lighting huge bonfires, and making wreaths to wear. Pandora played the lyre, Xenophilius sang songs and Luna would act out stories and poems.

Cornish, and they speak the language as well because being bilingual is sexy.

Speaking of pagan, Pandora’s funeral would have also been pagan, obviously.

She’d have a natural burial, and Luna would recite a poem, and the rest of the family would also give eulogies, recite poetry, or thank the Goddess. Four members- including Xenophilius and Luna- would stand at each point on the compass and “invoke” each element (Air in the East, Fire in the South, Water in the West and Earth in the North) and give thanks to them. There would also be music at the wake, played by members of the family. Drums, tambourines, flutes etc. Luna played her mother’s favourite song on her lyre.

When she reached Hogwarts, I don’t think she was drawn to anyone in particular right away, I think she had better relationships with the teachers more than the students. She got on really well with Professor Sprout, and I think Hagrid really liked her too, because they’d talk about all the different magical creatures together, and Luna would tell him about all the creatures her and her father wrote about in the Quibbler.

Academically, she was very smart, and did well in most of her classes, but she didn’t particularly find a lot of them overtly interesting to her, unless she was able to put her own twist to it, which usually she wasn’t. In Potions, she wasn’t able to brew her own stuff, make up recipes, or use a variation of the recipe. Snape was much too strict with her and as a result, she didn’t do very well, which made her more upset than she would let on since she had been really good at potions at home.

She particularly shone in third year, since she was able to take classes more suited to her, like Astrology and Divination. Astrology was her favourite of course, and she’d talk about it all the time with Ginny.

However, in third year she also became particularly interested in DADA, mainly because she formed a strong friendship with Professor Lupin. Remus had been informed that Luna was trans, and since he is as well, they had things in common, and were able to talk about it with each other, Remus sort of taking Luna under his wing a little. They’d sit in his office and drink tea and Luna would give him copies of the Quibbler, which he’d happily read.

Luna was actually the first to figure out that Remus was a werewolf, but she didn’t tell anyone, not even him. She didn’t think it was her secret to share, nor did she think it changed anything. But she did find it fascinating, and read a lot of books on lycanthropy. After Remus had left, Luna told him that she knew and she asked if she could write some articles about it in the Quibbler, to raise awareness, or if he’d like to write any articles. Remus agreed to let her write something, and she wrote a three page article about werewolf inequality (but careful not to mention Remus by name). She did interview him about it, and he said that he was proud of being a werewolf, that it was actually very cool at times, but that it was simply wizarding society that had forced him to be ashamed. She wrote all this down, and it became the most bought copy of the Quibbler, as lots of students at Hogwarts wanted to read it, and they shared it with their friends and parents. So despite Remus not being able to come back to Hogwarts as a teacher, he did receive tons of letters in support of him from parents and students who had read the article and put two and two together.

Friends with Ginny by third year! Luna actually took a while to warm up to Ginny, thinking she was this loud, athletic, snobbish type, but then Luna got to know her and realised that she wasn’t that at all. Ginny was loud, but in a contagious laughter sort of way, and she could be very quiet and calm when she wanted to. She was athletic, but chatted animatedly about Quidditch teams, and Luna couldn’t help but listen. And she wasn’t snobbish, quite the opposite. She was the only person who listened to Luna, and discussed her ideas rather than swat them away impatiently. Luna made Ginny flower crowns, and Ginny stayed up with her all night during solstices. They became very close.

Ginny was the first student at Hogwarts that Luna told about being trans, and Ginny came out to her as being bisexual. And they were very supportive of each other, as well as being great at keeping each other’s secrets. They trusted each other with their lives, and would always stand up for the other. If Luna was getting picked on, Ginny would go feral and start fights. Although she eventually stopped, since it made Luna more upset. So she stuck to just being there for Luna (and maybe slipping a potion into bullies’ morning pumpkin juice that made them cluck like a chicken. But Luna didn’t need to know about that...)

That being said, Luna could get angry too of course. When she heard an older girl make fun of Ginny behind Ginny’s back, Luna wordlessly went up to her turned the girl’s hair blue with a wave of her wand. Ginny laughed her head off when she found out.

It was through Luna’s bond with Ginny, that she realised that she wasn’t interested in either the romantic or sexual side of relationships. At first she assumed that it was because Ginny was a girl, and she may not be attracted to girls, but it got her thinking about boys too, about everyone. And she just didn’t want that sort of relationship with anyone. She loved her platonic relationship with Ginny, and that’s how she wanted all of her relationships to be like.

I feel like she also had a close bond with Neville, and they gave each other plants as birthday gifts.

Projecting a little bit here, but Luna with Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder, spending hours by herself making up fantasies and constructing worlds in her head, making up new characters, and getting so invested in them that she regularly saw herself as her characters. I feel like this started because of the trauma from losing her mother. She didn’t tell anyone about it, or at least nothing in detail, but she tried to explain it a bit to Ginny, who knew to leave her alone when Luna would sit by herself.

MaD also made Luna a little more detached from her gender identity, especially if she was acting as one of her characters (again I’m projecting here) who were either male or genderless. She still identified as female, but in a much more looser, fluid way, and even experimented with she/they pronouns, which she eventually decided she liked. (If this were set in the modern world, I can also imagine her using neopronouns such as xe/xer or fae/faeself, though in the canon world, she may have also tried out it/its).

Doesn’t know much about the muggle world, but Hermione gave them a copy of Alice In Wonderland which they loved. And if I were to headcanon Luna liking a muggle band/artist they’d probably like anything psychedelic or nature-like, maybe the early stuff of Pink Floyd (yes, Dev, I’m thinking about Atom Heart Mother).

Went travelling after Hogwarts, where she met Rolf Scamander, and they hit it off immediately. Very similar to each other, and soon became close friends. I also headcanon Rolf as aro/ace so their relationship basically became like Luna’s and Ginny’s.

Their house was filled with all sorts of plants and animals. Rooms were lined with trees filled with Bowtruckles, and owls flitted in and out of windows, cats slinking about the place, so many frogs. My god, their house was wonderful.

Adopted Lorcan and Lysander because ffs not everyone has to have a nuclear family jkr 🙄. And parents also don’t have to be romantically or sexually involved with each other either; Luna and Rolf had a good relationship, both wanted to be parents, so they raised the twin boys together. And Lorcan and Lysander had a fantastic childhood, can you imAGINE?!

Godmother of Lily Luna, obviously. And Harry and Ginny’s kids loved going round Luna’s place, so more often than not, the house was filled with not only the entire natural world, but also a bunch of children running about the place.

Oh also, Luna has nymph ancestors. They just do, okay?

#luna lovegood #luna lovegood hcs #trans luna lovegood #harry potter #ask #request a character!#hp headcanon

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rotzaprachim · 4 years

Text

Kalimat/كلمات

Yusuf al-Khaysani/Niccolò di Genova, 3.3k, teen, AO3 LINK

Yusuf translates medical texts for Niccolò from Greek and Persian into Arabic, and Niccolò spots the substratum of the ideas of the classical authors that he had once believed the basis of his own civilisation that he would go to the sword to defend, translated and passed down and sewn into a no longer foreign script. There are words Yusuf does not know how to translate. They will never, ever know all of the words. The prospect is thrilling. --- It takes Niccolò lifetimes to learn Arabic.

(I've tried pretty hard to make this at least historically feasible but I'm very sure this is just. Jam packed with mistakes. As is the Arabic langauge stuff- I got booted from the class due to dyslexia. I also hope the representation of Islam and Islamic culture is accurate.)

Languages drop from Joe’s lips easily. Nicky struggles with survival phrases in lingua francas- What Hurts in Dari and Can you breath- nod yes in Swahili and How can we help in French, but Joe can easily lose himself in the sea of a new language’s words and come up swimming, not just stringing together sentences but swallowing poetry, drama, and music. In Ughyar, Bosnian, Zapotec, Spanish, Tamil, Sylheti, Albanian. The shelves of his books line their lives. That is important to Joe, that people be seen not just as they always seem to be in western news reports - as the bodies in the ruined city- but as poets. As storytellers. As humans who struck fire with language that will survive and burn anew.

Joe recites Khachatur Abovian to calm the fractured nerves of a former schoolteacher ripped from his home while he and Nicky rush to forge passports and visas for the teacher and his wife and his seven children to make new lives in America. In a post war displaced persons camp he speaks Yiddish, reads Sholem Aleichem and Avrom Sutzkever from paperbacks pulled from the fires and then decades later in the dust of Baghdad, Arabic and al-Sayyab. And he listens, listens even more than he speaks. He listens to stories upon stories of war and loss and human suffering with his ears and his eyes and heart and a clasped hand that says, I do not claim to know your pain but I have felt my own.

Nicky sets arms and delivers babies and administers vaccines and sorts endless boxes of quinine tables and bandages. He speaks with his hands, mainly, and his bedside manner is different from Joe’s. He learned long ago to keep lollipops in the right pocket of his jacket. The first language Nicky learned to speak was the sea and the second was the wind, and spoken words come to him slower, with less agility, blending into occasionally archaic jumbles. He means to ask an assistant for an antiseptic wipe at one point, has to dig through his mind through the piles of once vital vocabulary bleached useless by time, military jargon for battles lost nine hundred years ago and colloquial derja words for plants and crops gone extinct under the tides of modern monocropping, and comes up sputtering, asking if anyone, perchance, has a neckerchief?

The linguistic stumbling of an unlettered genovese sailor versus a middle class trader’s son who learned to love the written world on his mother’s lap.

It took Nicky a human life time to master spoken Arabic, in a few of her many varieties, with her tricky mazes of roots, more decades of listening and stumbling through conversations and gentle corrections than the average human mind could take before his own readujsted to the beauty of a world described through roots with all things connected to each other.

It took him another life time again to master fusHa, the complex turns of phrase and imagery and unwritten short vowells, and a brush and then pen always felt far more alien in his hands than a sword did. (Although the precision of a pen prepares him well for the precision of a scalpel, and that, perhaps, is the instrument with which Nicky writes history.)

A thousand years ago, in the same city who’s people Joe and Nicky will die again and again for to try and pull from the ruin, the man then Yusuf wrapped his hand around the hand of the man then Niccolò and guided him through this mysterious world of written letters. Alif-ba-ta-thaa and then nun-qaf-waw-lam-alif,

اسمي نقولا

For the first time, Niccolò wrote himself down.

The script contained other mysteries and hidden trap doors. The disappearing mem that could get swallowed by lam and alif and the mysterious shape-shifting ta marbouta and the categories of sun and moon letters that lent the marks on a page a tangible quality, the burning Mediterranean sole that Niccolò’s people marked their years by and la luna by which Yusuf’s people knew their own time by.

When they had reached their first truce in the battlefield and had to learn how to say things beyond various threats and claims of the name of God, they’d each had to remake the world in a new image, relabel everything they’d thought they’d known. Shams, the enemy man had said over and over again, pointing up, and Niccolò hadn’t known if he meant “sky” or “blue” or “above” or “God” or the color “blue.” Niccolò had drawn a line in the sand, the past running to the future and tried to map out the different tenses of his own language he didn’t fully understand himself, only knew how he’d use them in a sentence. He’d hatched an x in the middle for now, drawn two little stick figures and two blobby horses, us he’d said in zenaize, then future, right of the men, past, left.

“Ahhh,” the man who Niccolò now knew as Ana Ismee Yusuf, nodded. He stood up and pointed right. “Lelshar’.” To the left. “Lel’arb.” He smiled and Niccolò thought it might be worth dying, just to see again. “Si, si. Io capiscooo.” He stretched his syllables out in a deadpan imitation of a puffed-up Genovese noble, and Niccolò laughed himself.

Several lifetimes later and Niccolò tries to label his world anew again in writing. Yusuf writes out words in large, blocky script on pieces of scap paper, marks the harakat around the words carefully in red ink. He tacks باب to the door and سَرِير to their bed and even أنا to himself. He holds up a piece of paper to the sky outside, the sun blinding their eyes momentarily before they repair. الشَّمس, the first word. Yusuf even attempts to stick قِطّ onto Amira, the sharp eyed street cat who’s wormed her wait into their household. The scratches that earns him heal quickly.

It takes Niccolò far longer than he wants anyone to know before his mind properly started to see a word and see it as a word, something more than a collection of letters but a thing that existed, definitively, in God’s world. بَيْت, what he and Yusuf have now had in Basra, Palermu, Fustat. مُحيط, like the Mare Nostrum. فَتاة, a girl like like the sister he left behind.

And then the door was opened, and Niccolò could read, or at least, understand this process of reading for himself, and more than that, he could see this part of Yusuf, so crucial to the soul he nad come to love and this heart he now held in his own. Yusuf loved words, and books, and writing, he loved his Book as the word of God to his prophet and he loved his books as connection to the mother who had first taught him suras and his father who wrote in three languages, and, he had once gold Niccolò in the quiet safety of their bed, in the night, with the first boy he had ever loved, the other star pupil at their madrassa with whom he would lie composing lines of poetry under a lemon tree.

Niccolò thought of Yusuf reading in the small, cool courtyard of the house in Damascus that would for this lifetime be their home, his mouth moving silently in prayer as his fingers followed reverently over the verses. He thought of Yusuf moving elegantly through the world, his speech dry and witty or educated where his own felt blunt, trading jokes and barbs back and forth in the tea house and the market. But mostly, Niccolò thought of Yusuf writing, face still with all the steady focus and silent reverence of prayer, bent over a carved rosewood writing desk, the sunlight streaming in through the windows setting his curls on fire. And his hands, so strong, so reliable, moving unerringly across the page, line after line of the script that Niccolò once feared and mocked because he feared but which he now knew could contain all the beauty of the world.

He practiced by writing to the those he loved but no longer walked the world.

Oum, today sun bright. I see roses in market. I think of you, when I see roses in market.

Abba, in house of God happy I know you are, happy makes it me.

Maria, to read you will love, i know. Your son man now. Good i know. Peace to you.

Niccolò burned the letters in a fire and hoped God would make it so his 'aa'ila could read them. Yusuf and Niccolò were both young in the business of being immortal. They had not learned to shoulder the pain of it yet, so they faced the loneliness, together and alone. Niccolò thought that he saw the appeal of letter writing, then, imagined a world in which he could have written his family from the Holy Land, told them that no matter how many infidels he killed to cleanse this world for the Cross he felt no closer to holiness himself, told them that the one he killed and killed and killed again he had found holiness in, told his parents that their son died and died and did not die. That he missed home, the rocky shores and fishing villages of Liguria, but that he missed them more, because his family was his home, even if there were things about him that he hid in the darker parts of himself because he knew they would never understand.

His sister’s grandchildren- or maybe her great-grandchildren, he wasn’t quite sure- were still alive, probably, but there wasn’t a way they’d respond well to the idea of a relative who’d have been forty years past death even without war sending them letters written in the alphabet they’d been taught to hate, if they could read at all.

With the ashes of his letters, he lets his family go, and prays God looks kindly upon them, and shows them mercy, and grants them peace and understanding. Every century or so, he’ll check in, he vows, even from afar, because he owes Maria that much. He hopes her son or his son or his son has not wasted his life to die in a war on foreign soil like he did, or that her daughter or her daughter or her daughter has not been left a widow.

Yusuf’s family still lived in Tunis. His sister Maryam took over the trading business after his death and made the al-Khaysani family a great name and funded many hospitals and houses of learning. News of her death reached Palermu weeks after the burial, and it was one of the few times in their long, long lives that Yusuf had to walk for months alone, to process a grief as large as the world. He let the waves of the sea and the sand of the desert swallow him again and again, and when he did not die, he rose and lifted his head to the sky and swore he would make the world as good as she wanted it to be. In every city they go to with a cathedral or even a baked mud church Niccolò lights candles for Maria and for Maryam. Santa Maria, madre de dio, they’ll pick up one day, in a language centuries off from existing. You know she is named more times in our book than yours, Yusuf told him in one one of their many cycles of death and coming back, when Niccolò called out for her, bleeding out on the sand.

When Niccolò found Yusuf again they stood with their hands clasped at her grave outside the medina and then they prayed and set off again. New cities, new tongues, new people. To avoid suspicion, they alter the sounds of their names to match the sounds of the city. Yusuf and Naaqid. Giuseppe and Niccolò. Nikolai and Iosef. Every death is shorter.

Yusuf forges the documents and the names, barters and trades, even makes several seperate respectable fortunes as a merchant of cloth and then spices before even claims of pomegranates doing wonders for one’s health start to wear a bit thin and they have to fake their deaths again. He writes, and though home quickly becomes what they can carry, he keeps sheaths of poetry in tiny, perfect script in his saddlebag, recites long poems as they make camp in the desert. Some were written by and for men like them. Others Yusuf tweaks the gender of, chooses inta over inti. Every time they die they leave a generous waqf behind.

Niccolò takes care of the horses, and then he tries to take care of people. He learns as much of these strange healing arts of the east as he can from Yosef, and then from a doctor in Basra and a Jewish apothecary in the city of Fustat. It is not blasphemy to try to know the body, he is deciding, it is not sacrilige to try as hard as one might to save a life. At some point, the knowledge goes beyond what he can remember or what a diagram can tell him, and so it’s in Damascus that Niccolò decides, even with his previous failed attempts at the aliph-baa, to ask Yusuf to teach him how to read.

And he does. It takes time, years, before he can, before he feels more man than child with a pen in his hand and he does not smear ink across the page. And there are limits. He is never a poet. His language is always more practical than- and this is a word that will not exist for centuries but that colors his memories even still- than romantic. For him heart is a thing of muscles and chords that powers a life. He reads and takes notes on Al Razi far more than Abu Nuwwas or al Muttanabi. Ibn Sina’s Canon of Medicine astounds him just as Ferdowsi’s perfect schemes of monorhymes entrance Yusuf. His sentences do not flow into rivers like Yusuf’s do. They build squat, strong houses. They encode information that Niccolò can leave behind when he dies, only to return to a century later and find that have been added on to by scholars after him, the foundations for someone else’s palace. Sometimes, the things he thought were true are completely washed away in the flood of some new discovery, and he prays and begs the forgiveness of all those he caused unnecessary pain in his ignorance.

But even in his clumsiness, the power of words surges through. Yusuf’s words and his love of words surges through to Niccolò in the years of learning, until Niccolò loves words too, just as Niccolò’s love of the sea and her many tempestuous moods and promise of infinite freedoms filters through to Yusuf. Yusuf translates texts for Niccolò from Greek and Persian into Arabic, and just as with Mary and Maryam centuries ago on a battlefield, Niccolò spots the substratum of the ideas of the classical authors that he had once believed the basis of his own civilisation that he would go to the sword to defend, translated and passed down and sewn into a no longer foreign script. There are words Yusuf does not know how to translate. They will never, ever know all of the words. The prospect is thrilling.

And Yusuf’s love of words surges up into Niccolò’s love of Yusuf too. It took him about three weeks after their initial truce to realise the man was soft, which then took him a few decades to find more endearing than annoying. That he liked sweet things and flowers and goddamn useless hobbies like calligraphy and drawing complex borders of tulips and interlocking knots along the borders of his writing papers. And he knew he was a good poet, to his own ears, that he fit words together nicely. But being able to read Yusuf’s poems, even the unwritten snippets he leaves scattered around the house, often unfinished, is something else entirely. A glimpse into being seen, by the person who sees him best. But God above, he doesn’t think anyone alive has had their eyes compared to the beauty of the sea after the desert quite so many times, or wrung as many turns of phrase from the has the double meaning of عَيْن.

“The world,” he says one night as they sit and watch night descend softly upon the City of Jasmine. It’s a city to make even the woman who will come knocking at their door in a matter of decades feel young and insignificant, and even the colloquial name suits Yusuf’s pretensions annoyingly well. Steam from cups of tea curls into the evening air. The smells of horse shit and rosewater both on the air. The calm cradle of the evening after the maghrib prayer. “You see it …” He does not know how to end it.

“How, then, do I see the world, hayati?”

“You see the stars above a battlefield. You see the stars and then the fields that will grow again after the ashes are tilled into the soil. You see stars as gems, and the windstorms of the desert is the finest music, if you would believe your poems.

“And you are angry that I have seen the good in the world? I would not call the man who came to a foreign land to kill the infidel and came to spend a hundred years learning best to save their lives a man who does not see beauty in unexpected things either.”

“You are-”

He looks for a word, any word in his mind that has learned so many. Unchanging would not be right for the man who once killed him so many times and learned Greek and Latin to read him the words of the Apostles as they were written, who has accompanied him on pilgrimages to Antioch and the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. He has changed as much as Niccolò has. No, it’s something-

“You are looking at me as you look at your patients.” Yusuf reaches out and brushes back Niccolò’s hair. He kisses his forehead. A kiss from Yusuf, no matter how chaste or how many, still sends lightning through his body.

“As if you were ill?”

“No. You look with such focus upon the world, with so much kindness about how to help it heal.” For a time whose number has since gone beyond count, their hands interlink. “We cannot save the world, but we can save some, and by saving some, we can save the world. We will work to repair what is broken.”

“I have found the cause of your affliction.”

“What do you consider me afflicted by, Doctor Al-Zenowaizi?”

The word romantic is still more than six centuries out, although they’ll soon wander through Europe during the heyday of the romance, and Yusuf will even write a few himself in Occitan and Provençal. For now, though, the word carries the implications of Roma and the waning Basileion Rhomaion to the north, to the al-Rum rite of the Damascene churches he now celebrates the Eucharist in, the river of his faith turned down a different course. For now, though, the word romantic remains firmly in the future. No, it’s something else he thinks of.

“Hope. You have a most serious case of hope.”

“And what do you suggest as remedy, Doctor Al-Zenowaizi?”

Niccolò pulls him in for a proper kiss, long and deep and hot and sweet and bitter from the tea. He loses himself in the warmth of his body, his hands in the curls of his hair, and he thinks how blessed he has been by God that this is the man he has been destined to spend forever with.

“Albi, I do not think there is one. I think you have been cursed with an incurable case of hope.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #the old guard fic #yusuf x nicolo #yusuf al-kaysani #nicolo di genova #my writings

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norestwithoutlove · 3 years

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Hi, I just finished reading to build a home (quite literally just then) and it was one of the best stories I’ve ever read. everything was so cohesive and beautifully done and has inspired me to do some writing of my own. How did you manage to keep track of minor details and plots throughout the book continuity wise, with such a large word count, thats something most authours cant do and it made it feel so much more personal and immersive. this fic was a wild ride, sorry if this sounds weird btw i dont usually do this.

Hey !! sorry this one took me a while to reply to ! thanks so much for this message it made me beam - i’m glad the fic made you want to use your own voice as well! writing is such a balm especially in times like these, so i hope you’re loving it.

holy shit i’ve just gone over this and this is a LONG answer so i’m very sorry for the essay in advance. regarding continuity and minor details:

from like very early days (essentially day one of writing) i had a very clear vision of where i wanted the fic to go, and what the major plot points were (the night of the fight aged 18 and everything which caused it, even that it would take place on the roof, sam’s overdose happening in the middle of dean’s drunk love confession, the chapter 59 love confession which leads to them FINALLY getting together happening in front of the fire and cas giving dean his poetry book, the dedication saying ‘to dean, i still do, and always will’. all of that was just sitting rotting all other thoughts in my mind and so i had to type it all out at the bottom of the word document to get it down and make sure i didn’t forget. here’s an excerpt of that very early days plan (the scene where dean comes out to sam in the hospital!!! one of my absolute favourites):

other things came later, like the wedding + concussion scene, and the scene where dean waits out in the treehouse all night, which honestly was SO cruel of me and really added to the tragedy of the chapter 38, 40, 42 arc. but yeah as with the above they sat in my brain just waiting for me to reach the appropriate part of the fic to type them up from VERY early days of the fic. opinions on this vary but i don’t like typing out the scenes that i really want to type out if i haven’t actually reached them in the fic’s construction, (does that make sense? i’ve phrased it badly) because knowing i’m gonna get to write those scenes is what motivates me to actually write the scenes inbetween. i should probably switch this up a bit as everyone advises against this form of writing but also yeah changing routine is effort.

other things plotted in the fic came about in light of the events of the show. mary wasn’t originally gonna be such a distant mother but, as spn pushed that narrative of distance and withdrawal, i thought it would be weird for readers to read a fic which pushed the deified mary mother figure like early seasons spn. especially weird for the readers to read a deified mary fic when the mary they were watching on screen seemed to differ so drastically from the one in the story. so the mary-dean relationship (which was fortunately pretty ambiguous and stilted because of dean’s grief-brain in early chapters) had to change in tbah into the really complicated entity it became. honestly the formulation of that relationship is one of the things i was most proud of in the fic because it was so thorny and hard and felt tragically real for that reason.

other things the progression of the show impacted: dean’s relationship with jack. obviously he couldnt be a nephilim in the tbah universe(!) so i had to consider another angle which would stilt his relationship with dean in the fic. considering the fact that in the show dean’s aversion to him came from a knot of grief, anger and dean’s own upbringing, i transplanted that idea onto the fic and said okay, but here it’s not about cas, it’s about john. dean untangles much of his own trauma with john through his relationship with jack in the symbols of his father he can find in his life: driving, fishing, and building. but also in the symbols of jimmy: cooking, talking, teaching. dean gets to choose between being a john or a jimmy to his son, but the question isn’t so simple, because people aren’t just symbols, and actually dean ends up being a dean to jack, which is perfect.

weirdly, i also think music helped with continuity. i had a few songs in my head at the beginning of the fic and they became like thematic seeds which could grow and make threads to be picked up throughout. i’d listen to these as i wrote, especially as i wrote the scenes i deemed the most significant. same thing with literature.

also thinking about the fic just became really comforting to me ! so i’d play major plot points in my head like a movie before i went to sleep, which meant by the time i got to writing them they’d had a lot of time to develop and pick up earlier themes of the fic. essentially all of the fic was written in light of the future of the fic, which really helped continuity and direction but also the weird tangled traumatised nature of time in the story. this figuring of time became really important because i think tangled traumatised time is essentially just the reality of grief-time.

subconsciously i’m sure a lot of stuff bled through which was unintentional, the framing of events which repeat location (dean waiting in the treehouse all night as a teenager to say goodbye to cas before he leaves for university vs dean and cas going to the treehouse as adults and finding teens there who are saying goodbye to each other before leaving for university. confession 3 takes place a literal 10 years after confession 1. confession 1 comes from cas and happens on the roof just before he leaves for the uk, confession 2 comes from dean and happens drunken in the living room after dean has had an intense and ambiguous conversation/fight with his mother, confession 3 happens in the living room after dean has come out to his mother, confession 4 happens on the roof as castiel returns from the uk and repairing every sense of the rift confession 1 caused because this last confession ends in their engagement.)

once i realised this was happening i went back and combed through those scenes for lines to be repeated. an easy example of this is chapter 38//chapter 59. here’s a scene from chapter 38 as they enter the big white house:

and here’s them entering the house in chapter 59:

i think it’s about trauma and repetition (freud has a theory about this, see Remembering, Repeating, and Working Through) in that we return to sites of trauma; trauma is reiterated in memory and in the material, but in every reiteration, we grow and heal and understand the trauma and ourselves better. it’s like an upward spiral: the first confession goes so badly, the second goes better but not good, the third good, the fourth goes wonderfully (dean’s narrative frames it as paradise: “maybe this is the sound of the trumpets on the other side”). so yeah, part of the ‘continuity’ of tbah is just a traumatised cycle of reiteration, and i say this in the nicest possible way, because these cycles of repetition are how we heal. deep down, i think that’s what the fic is all about.

tl;dr: i had a scrawl of a plan at the bottom of the word document i wrote tbah on, i thought about it a lot because it made me happy, i had a pretty clear vision of where things were going from the very opening chapter, and i was a very gay english lit student.

anyway thanks for the ask lovely i am SO sorry it resulted in the borderline novel of an answer.

#anon #answered #LONG post sorry #to build a home #tbah #deancas

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ravs6709 · 3 years

Text

Our Very Own Story- Queerplatonic Fedex

Alternate title: I project so much onto Fitz that he's probably ooc

Woo, I'm finally done! I've had this idea for so many months, but I never had the chance to actually finish it, but finally, it's here (in all its 7.3k words glory)

This story takes place in the same au as Our Very Own Melody, which is the (romantic) Kam side. OVOM isn't necessary to read to read this one, but it's still my fave work, so read it anyways

But here's a refresher. Soulmates au in high school. Soulmate bond is having a strong bond similar to telepathy and empathy combined, and can only be revealed once the soulmates are close with each other.

Ve/vem Dex and she/ae Biana because yes.

And also, Fitz, Keefe, Tam and Linh are in the same grade, and are all one year older than Sophie, Biana and Dex.

Warnings: censored swearing, and mentions of (a character from a play's) death

Hope you enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz remembered the days that he played the piano. He still played it in the present, but not to the extent that he had in the past. He used to constantly play it, something that he was partially forced to do.

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it, because he did. He'd started at a young age, and as he grew older, he found himself creating parts to songs. Just a few notes, maybe long enough for a verse, he didn't have the same passion to create music like Keefe would using his violin.

If anything, he preferred to write lyrics. He liked being able to tell stories with words. It was at the end of elementary school where he'd realized that it wasn't writing music that interested, but writing in general. He had so many ideas flowing inside of him, and a powerful imagination.

When middle school came, he started to explore some of the possibilities. He tried poetry, but while it was fun, it wasn't his thing. He particularly enjoyed writing short stories for English class. He didn't spend that much time focusing on writing though, he spent most of his free time hanging out with Keefe, Biana, Sophie, and rarely, Dex.

It was in eighth grade when Biana practically forced him to watch the school play with her and Sophie. (Keefe, for some reason, had been allowed to decline the invitation. That alone made Biana's intentions suspicious).

From start to finish, he was amazed by what he saw. The play was one that he'd heard of, but didn't know the plot to. Each movement of the actor was a sentence in his head, he could see the words written down on paper, ready to be acted out. He knew that script writing wasn't as simple as that, the formatting was different, but still he was curious.

After the play was over, the three of them started walking to take Sophie home. "So, did you like it?" Biana asked.

"It was good," Fitz replied. "The lighting was really great."

That was another thing that made script writing different compared to writing a short story. When writing something to be acted out, you had to be able to imagine the scene, know what kind of lighting would be needed and what special effects were needed in order to emphasize something, or in order to make something happen.

"It was great!" Sophie agreed. "Dex did a really good job behind the scenes!"

"Wait, Dex was involved with the play?" Fitz asked.

He'd met Dex back in elementary school, but they never actually spoke to each other until a few months ago, when Sophie befriended them. But even now, even though they'd hang out at his house, he hadn't really interacted with Dex that often. (It did explain why Dex wasn't with them either).

"You didn't know?" Biana asked. "I mean, ve hasn't talked about it much, but surely you should've known. Vis knowledge of technology is really good."

Fitz hadn't actually witnessed it for himself, but had heard about it. But the stories couldn't do it justice.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After Sophie had gone home, the two siblings started to walk to their home.

"So, what about playwriting?" Biana asked.

"I know you brought me to see it for a reason," he told her.

She crossed her arms. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"Knowing you, yeah."

Ae huffed. "Rude. What would I even have to gain from introducing you to a form of writing that you might enjoy?"

"Oh, I don't know, like asking for a favour such as doing half of a project?" He was still a little bit bitter for having to do that.

"That was one time!"

"One time too many!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz was glad that his high school had a talented drama club. Every year, his school participated in the city-wide festival. The thought alone was exciting, and he knew that unlike in middle school, it was the students who wrote the plays. He wanted to be part of it.

It also sounded a little stressful, because it was no longer just a school play, but a piece of art meant to represent the school. Actual professionals would be there to judge the play. And this was going to be his first time doing this. He knew though, that it was going to be fine. He wasn't alone, there was going to be a whole playwriting team to create the play.

Unfortunately, luck decided not to favour him. While there were multiple teachers in the drama department, it was the head who would deal with everything. Except the head of the drama department had gone on maternity leave, meaning that the school wasn't going to participate in the festival for that year. While it would be rude to be annoyed at the teacher, he was still a little upset, because he'd been looking forward to it.

The year itself wasn't bad, he enjoyed it a lot. He'd managed to get most of his classes with Keefe, the only differing one being their art course, where Keefe went with music, and he chose drama. His classes were entertaining. Sophie and Biana had started dating, and the hangouts at his house only grew more frequent.

There were also the Song twins. He wasn't necessarily friends with Linh, but they shared a few classes, and she was fun to be around. Sometimes they ate lunches together when Keefe wasn't around. Tam, on the other hand, he knew nearly nothing about, other than the fact that he usually kept to himself. Or at least, until Keefe had managed to start a rivalry with him, and then they started serenading each other with their violins. Their rivalry was a big source of entertainment, and he and Linh would often discuss the fact that they clearly liked each other.

All of those things definitely made his first year of high school a good one.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Even without the fact that the head of the drama teacher had returned from maternity leave, his second year of high school was eventful. Biana, Sophie and Dex had joined them, meaning that he got to see them more often.

He walked into the drama club room to get his form to join the drama club. He was surprised to see that Dex was also in the room.

"Hey Dex," he greeted. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I normally do backstage stuff, did you forget, Wonderboy?" ve asked.

"Oh yeah, that's right."

He was reminded of when Sophie had told him that Dex was part of the backstage crew during middle school. He made a mental reminder to not forget, because while he hadn't intentionally been rude, he had been rude to vem in the past. He wanted to be a better friend than that.

"But actually," ve continued. "I wasn't actually going to be a part of backstage this year, I was thinking of being an actor."

"You like acting?"

Fitz was pretty sure that Dex had never mentioned being an actual actor before, but if he had to be honest, he wouldn't have been surprised if ve had. He'd already forgotten about vis involvement with the drama club.

But to his surprise, Dex flushed red, one of vis hands moving to scratch the back of vis neck. "It's not something I've brought up. I kinda have stage fright, so I'm trying to face that fear and do something that I want. Even if I get a minor role, I'll be happy."

"You should go for it!" Fitz told vem. "I'm sure you'll do good on the stage!"

Ve smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Along with him, there were four other people who signed up to be a playwright. He'd only recognized one of them, since they'd been in the same class the previous year, but he wasn't friends with any of them. They were nice people though, they were quite calm, compared to his friends. (Keefe, Biana and Sophie made a dangerous combination).

Playwriting was interesting, because it was different compared to what he was used to. He was aware that it wouldn't be the same, but he wasn't expecting how different they would feel. There was little focus on description, and there was no flowery prose at all. The descriptions that were there were short and simple, just enough for the actor and backstage crew to know what was going on.

It was a little hard getting used to the formatting, because he had to remember to capitalize the names, and there were a lot of small details that he needed to remember. But it was okay, because he had the other writers with him.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Dex said. "How's the play going?"

"We're mostly done with the script, but we've been told the script is too short, so we're just adding on to it." This was one of the few times that ve had been the one to approach him, and he had a feeling that he'd be interacting with vem more often. "We've decided on a subversion of the classic high school story, you know what I'm talking about, right?"

Ve scrunched vis nose. "New girl goes to high school, befriends two popular guys- but sometimes one of them is a childhood friend- and gets into a love triangle with said guys? Plus, there's probably a mean girl? How could I not know? What changes have you made?"

"The mean one isn't actually that mean, and fae gets together with the main character."

"Ooh, do the two popular guys get together?" ve asked.

"One of them is enby, but yeah. The writers have been having so much fun making everything queer."

"Holy sh*t, that does sound like fun! Last year me would have killed to see something like that, when I was questioning myself."

Fitz had been starting to come to terms with the fact that he was aromantic, but he could definitely see where ve was coming from. Even if there weren't any confirmed characters on the aspec spectrum, he was always happy to have characters who were queer.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Crapcrapcrap," Dex muttered under vis breath, pacing back and forth as ve waited for Fitz to get his lunch out of his locker.

Fitz took out his lunch, then closed the locker. He turned towards vem. "Try to breathe," he suggested. "If you get too panicked now, that's when the mistakes are going to happen. Do you want to take a minute to sit down and breathe?"

Ve glanced back and forth between him and the staircase they'd need to climb to head to the club room. Reluctantly, they sat down.

"It's not like they won't start without you there, right?" Ve asked.

"It's not like you'll be late. What do you normally do to calm yourself? Do you want me to hold your hand? I know Keefe likes that."

For a moment, he wondered if he was overstepping some kind of boundary- because they still weren't that close- but ve smiled sheepishly, and looked down at the floor. "Maybe… that would be nice. We can try that."

Ve gently held his hand, and Fitz noticed that his hand was warm, compared to his own cold one. They sat like that for a few moments, until vis shaky hand became more stable.

"Okay," ve said, but it came out as a breathy whisper. "I think we should get going."

Ve let go of his hand, the warmth slowly fading away. He liked the feeling of holding vis hand.

They went to the club room, where the auditions were being held. Dozens of students were trying out for the various roles, and he felt a little proud, knowing that people wanted to act for a play that he helped to write.

He watched the students try out, and they were all so impressive. He was glad that he wasn't actually part of the group that decided who was casted and who wasn't. He may have been a writer, but the writers weren't in charge of the auditions.

Soon it was Dex's turn- ve was auditioning for one of the teachers in the story. The teacher that ve was auditioning for was someone lenient, a good friend to the other students. The teacher would often jokingly tease the students in the class.

Seeing Dex on the stage, it was almost as ve had become a new person. He knew that obviously, being able to act in a variety of roles was what an actor was supposed to do, but it was like seeing a side to vem that he'd never seen before.

Everything, from the tone of vis voice, to the grin on vis face, to the very slight change in posture was better than he could have ever imagined.

Fitz was sure that if ve had gone for a lead role, ve would be able to steal the show.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dex, that was amazing!" He told vem, after ve had finished the audition.

"You… you think so?" Ve murmured, looking a little flustered. (Wait, flustered?)

"Yeah! You were great up there!" He replied, choosing to ignore what vem being flustered could mean.

"It- it was only the audition."

"You'll be getting more practice, it's like…" he paused, trying to find the words. "A preview. If the preview is good, the full thing will also be great."

"If you say so."

"I know you'll do great."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex had managed to be casted in the role, and both Fitz and Dex were happy. Dex had to practice vis lines, so Fitz offered to be there to listen. At first, ve seemed hesitant, out of the fear of looking bad, but eventually they accepted the offer.

At first, it was a little awkward. Dex seemed to have difficulties making eye contact with him, and when ve did, ve would seem to lose concentration on what ve was saying. It wasn't just a lesser version of stage fright, because it started to extend to their normal conversations too.

(He was starting to have suspicions, but he hoped it wasn't the case. He didn't want to have to think about that.)

But slowly, ve became more comfortable talking to him. The confidence that had been evident during the audition started to return. Once again, Fitz was in awe.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"These plays are so good," Dex murmured.

Fitz nodded in agreement. At the festival, various schools presented their plays. Each of them were different- one was fantasy, with kingdoms and people trying to survive, another depicted a local issue, and another about what it means to be a family. They were all about different topics, but each of them were spectacular.

"What if ours isn't as good?" Ve whispered.

"We've worked hard on it," he answered. "We'll make sure it's good."

He offered his hand to vem, something that he started doing often after the first time. Ve took it, and they sat on the seats holding hands until it was time for their school to set up everything.

"I have faith in you, okay?" Fitz whispered as ve stood up.

"Thank you." Ve smiled, then left with the other actors.

Fitz looked back towards the stage so he could enjoy the show. Since he wasn't an actor, he didn't have to get up. The play began, and even though he'd seen it multiple times, it still looked impressive. The jokes didn't fail to make him smile.

After it was all over, ve sat back down next to him.

"You did great up there," he told vem.

Ve smiled at him, vis face shining with joy. (Part of him wanted to just smile back, the other part wanted to back away, because of all of these feelings. Instead, he shoved the conflicting feelings away, he could think about them another day.)

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that he didn't get the chance to think about his feelings another day. The two of them lived nearby, so after they were brought back to the school, they decided to walk together.

"Hey Fitz, can I tell you something?" Ve asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

Ve stopped walking, then turned to face him. "I have a crush on you. I've had one since last year."

Despite the fact that he suspected this, he was still shocked. "What?"

"I don't expect you to return my feelings, but I thought… after the play, I finally have the confidence to tell you."

"Since…" he murmured. "Since how long?"

"Since last year," ve replied. "In the beginning, I honestly hated you. I thought you were a spoiled jerk, but I learned that you aren't that, and then my crush happened."

"Oh," he breathed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I'm sorry, I don't feel the same way."

"It's okay, I just wanted to get it out," ve said, but he could see vis disappointment. "Oh, my house is that way, bye. Good night."

Fitz watched as ve walked down a different path, and he knew that they didn't have to part ways until another few minutes. He felt something like dread build up within him, and he couldn't help but think that he messed up.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After the confession, Dex started to keep vis distance, and Fitz hated it. He liked hanging out with vem, it was nice and comforting. It was like how they were in the beginning of the year, before they finally interacted with each other.

Whenever they had their group hangouts, Sophie, Keefe, Biana and Linh would sit in between them. The distance between them wasn't that huge, but he felt like it was just going to grow more.

It also didn't help that he didn't know how he was feeling. He thought that he had it figured out, he didn't have any romantic feelings towards vem. But every once in a while, he caught himself staring. Dex had seen him do it more than one time, and ve would be the first to look away, looking a little upset.

It would hurt, wouldn't it. I rejected you, and now I'm staring at you. I wish I had an answer for you.

However, he didn't, so he kept quiet and continued to stare longingly.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Okay, what's going on?" Biana asked, slamming his bedroom door open before slamming it shut again.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, hoping that ae wasn't referring to what he thought ae was about to say. "And careful with the door," he added, hoping to get aer off topic.

"Hah, nice try with that, but I'm referring to you and Dex," She replied.

He flinched. Damn it, she's too perceptive. And now she'll definitely know! Well, guess I've got no choice but to tell her.

"We haven't been dating," he explained. "I'm just… ve confessed to me and I'm so confused. I thought… I thought I was aromantic, but all of a sudden I just can't help but look at vem." He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Ve's avoiding me because I rejected vem, except I don't know what my feelings for vem are anymore."

Ae sat down on the bed next to him. "Okay, first off, if you're aromantic, that's great. If you're not, then that's fine too. I can't tell you what you feel, but I can sympathize. Do you remember at the end of elementary and during the beginning of middle school, I kept clinging onto Keefe?"

He nodded.

"Well, I thought I had a crush on him."

"Wait, really?" That was something he didn't know.

"I know better now, I was just admiring someone who I thought was cool and was also pretty. That sounds like a crush to you, doesn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

"Well, it wasn't," she stated. "There's more to a crush than just thinking someone is pretty, otherwise, I'd be crushing on half the school. There's this… feeling inside of you, you feel warm and fuzzy. You find yourself wanting to be with them often, you want to go outside and explore the world with them. You might want to be closer with them than anyone else. That's how I've felt."

He considered that, then tried to compare it to what he'd been feeling.

"It's… similar, I think," he explained. "I like being with vem, and I regret choosing to ignore vem at first. I wish that we could've grown closer before." He closed his eyes, and pictured vem, sitting next to him, their hands linked.

He felt warmth, before it faded into confusion. Biana's explanation seemed right, but he felt like there was something that he was missing.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Since it was summer vacation, it meant that Fitz didn't have to go to school every day and see Dex. While they had hangouts often, Dex often had to babysit vis younger siblings, so he didn't see vem too often.

It was probably a good thing, it meant that he could try and figure out his feelings, without the source of said feelings being around to make everything complicated. (Though, it wasn't really working). At least though, he could figure out how to make things less awkward, because the others were starting to notice something was going on, and he didn't want to be the reason that the atmosphere wasn't pleasant.

He spent a lot of his free time playing the piano. He'd been doing less of it lately, but once he'd started playing not as an obligation, but because he wanted to, he found that playing it was a good stress reliever. He could immerse himself in the light sounds of the piano, distract himself from all the confusion he felt.

Sometimes though, when he played the piano, he thought of the songs that he often heard- whether from school or just Biana- and murmured the lyrics. He tried playing the songs that he knew were about romance, because maybe he could figure out how he felt about the experiences that other people had.

He was still conflicted though. Some songs it seemed like the person was oddly possessive over the one that they loved, the feeling of love so strong and intense and suffocating. Whatever he felt towards Dex was strong, but not like that. Other songs were a lot more casual, talking about how the warmth that came from being with the one you loved.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He really hoped he could find an answer, and soon.

•~•~•~•~•~•

While he had no answer, interactions with Dex did become easier. He wasn't sure if it was because he was getting used to what he was feeling, was coming closer to figuring it out, or he was just getting better at suppressing his feelings.

The next year of school had started, and it meant a new play for the drama club. Both him and Dex joined the club, just like the previous year.

Most of the other playwrights were people he was familiar with from the previous year, but there was a new face. This year, they agreed on something less realistic- superheroes. It was interesting to see how the story evolved, from a joke about the main character "Grey" being morally grey, to adding two antagonists with strong superpowers, which then ended up focusing less on the main character, but more between the relationship between two siblings. It was absolutely incredible to see what they were able to come up with.

Coming up with a plot was only the beginning though, but this time, he had more experience writing, so he was able to contribute even more to the story.

Writing the dialogue could be difficult sometimes, as some of the lines felt too dramatic, or not emotional enough. He tried saying them out loud, but he wasn't that good at voice acting, so he sounded too robotic for his liking.

"It sounds like you're writing something for the play," Dex said during one lunch. "Do you want me to say it out loud for you?"

Fitz was surprised by the offer. Whole they were talking more, it was usually in a group. So for Dex to be coming to him, it meant that their friendship could be better.

"That would be nice, thank you. I'm trying to write a monologue about the mayor, addressing the people about how his sister betrayed him and has been working for the rebels. But right before that, it's his reaction to the betrayal."

"Is he angry, or more sad?"

"Bit of both, and then when he makes his speech to the audience he reveals an invention that'd be used to stop the rebels, so while he's calm, he should also sound vaguely menacing."

"Is the mayor the villain?"

"It's complicated. The mayor's sibling has superpowers, while he doesn't. He fears that the powers are going to cause him to lose his status, so he creates laws that impact people with powers. Those people then rebel so they can have proper rights, sometimes violently, which to the mayor, proves that people with powers are a threat. The mayor also has been looking into an invention that can get rid of powers, because he wants to "cure" his sibling."

"He does awful things for the sake of love," Dex guessed.

"Exactly. Oh, here"--he turned his phone screen so ve could see the screen--"the script is here for you to read."

Ve started off murmuring, trying to get a feel for the scene. As ve re-read the scene over and over again, ve spoke louder, emotion seeping into vis tone.

"Thank you Dex," he said, after it was over. "That helped a lot.

"No problem. It was fun."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

"I've got to head to class now, see you later!" Without thinking, Fitz leaned towards vem, before he realized what he was doing.

Was I about to kiss vem on the cheek?

He couldn't tell if it was just instinct- he always kissed his mom on the cheek if either of them had to go somewhere- or if he genuinely wanted to show affection like that.

He abruptly turned away and quickly left, not daring to look back and see if ve had noticed or not.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that Dex hadn't noticed the almost-cheek-kiss, and Fitz was relieved. But it did get him thinking. If he and Dex were to date, would he be comfortable with kissing vem on the lips? He knew that for the most part, kissing was common in romantic relationships. After a few moments of thinking, he decided that he didn't want that.

It wasn't like a switch had been flipped (he knew that kissing wasn't required in romantic relationships), he did finally begin to have his answer.

His hangouts with Dex slowly began to go back to normal, as they fell back into the dynamic from before the confession. Except this time, there was less blushing and being embarrassed, because this time, there wasn't a crush to hide.

Sometimes Dex acted out the scenes he helped write. They didn't do that too often though, since Dex was going to audition, and ve didn't want to have any sort of advantage.

It felt nice to be with Dex, it was comforting and fun. When he tried imagining Dex dating someone, he found that he didn't mind that too much, as long as they'd be able to hang out together (he was annoyed by the fact that he hadn't tried to imagine that earlier).

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey, Dex," Fitz called out. "About the confession…" Despite having his answer, he was a little nervous, because neither of them had actually ever discussed the confession or the aftermath.

Dex blinked, then pursed vis lips. "What about it?"

"I know I did already reject you, but well, you know about the stuff after… I was confused. Because I like being with you, and I'll admit, you look beautiful, but I'd been unable to actually figure out if it was romantic attraction or not. It wasn't, so here's my official rejection. Hope it doesn't change anything between us again."

There was a pause, then ve snorted. "You do know that you already rejected me, right? I mean, I get what you're saying, but I've been working to get over you. Hasn't quite worked yet, but I'm not devastated or anything."

"That's good, I feel better about this."

"Your explanation also makes sense, I mean, it took me forever to realize that I don't like girls. Attraction is confusing."

Fitz laughed. "You can say that again. I'm aromantic, but I think part of the confusion is that I like the idea of romance."

"So when you have someone confess to you," ve continued. "You're wondering if you should have accepted the confession."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"And we'll continue to stay as friends, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan."

He could always figure out more of the details later.

•~•~•~•~•~•

With everything settled, Fitz and Dex grew closer. Auditions for the play drew near, and the actors were instructed to think about who they were going to be playing.

"I kinda want to play the mayor?" Dex said. "I mean, I've seen very small bits of the dialogue from other characters, but I did have fun doing that monologue the first time."

"You should do it then," Fitz told vem.

"Yeah but… it's a more major role, and I'm scared of messing it up. I haven't really had much experience in the main cast, let alone as an antagonist."

"I'm sure you could do it," Fitz said, putting his hands on vis shoulders. "Your acting helped me, and I'm proud of how far you've come. Worst case scenario, you don't get the role, but you know how nice our teacher is."

"She is nice," ve agreed.

"So you know she won't be harsh."

"I guess, yeah."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The scene that had been used for the audition wasn't one that Dex had read, which made Fitz feel a little bit better, because the last thing that he wanted was for vem to make it because of an unfair advantage. He knew that ve'd feel guilty about it.

The scene was when the mayor's sister left to secretly join one of the rebel meetings, and then he talked to himself about how much he hated the rebels and how he was going to make sure that his citizens would be protected from those who had superpowers.

The edge in Dex's tone was similar to how Fitz had imagined the mayor to sound like- sweet, but it was clear that the mayor was menacing. The reasoning was somewhat noble, to protect the citizens, but what wasn't considered was that people with superpowers were human too. The mayor was the one who ended up causing damage, while trying to stop the damage from happening.

He thought about the ending, and wondered how it would look like for Dex (or another actor) to perform during the end, when everything that the mayor had done led to the deaths of his sister and his friend (well technically, the friend actually lived, but at the time, he didn't know that). The mayor would go through a revelation that everything he was doing was wrong, and he needed to fix everything.

The actors who were auditioning all seemed capable of performing the role well, and Fitz wondered who would make it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex managed to get the role of the mayor, and just like the previous year, Dex often practiced in front of him. Without the fear of crushes, it meant that ve was significantly more comfortable, and ve was able to do a better job.

There were points when ve got nervous, but Fitz was there to help encourage them. And despite the fact that he'd done this before, he watched vem practice in awe, because he still couldn't believe that he was able to watch this, watch someone put so much passion into acting out something he helped to write.

It felt like all of these emotions were contagious, because sometimes, it almost felt like he could feel Dex's own emotions. When ve did the monologue about being betrayed, he could feel that heartbreak and anger.

Or if Fitz was in a good mood, it spread to Dex, vis voice would sound just a little bit lighter, and during their group hangouts, ve'd talk a little bit more than usual.

The opposite applied too- sometimes Dex came to school, angry at vis siblings. While Fitz wouldn't feel irritated, necessarily, but he did find himself needing a little more quiet.

Fitz wondered if that was just them being in tune with each other, or if it was the work of something more. (In his first year, he'd joined the strings ensemble to play the piano part, and had witnessed Keefe and Tam's rivalry, but nobody could deny that when it was time to be serious, they played really well. While neither of them had found their soulmate, he wouldn't be surprised if they were.)

No matter what it was though, he knew that he was glad that he made the decision to befriend Dex.

•~•~•~•~•~•

During some of their free time, Fitz and Dex would hang out in his room and watch tv. Ever since all of this, he found himself focusing more on the writing when it came to the shows.

Sometimes what they watched was simple, others weren't. Some were cartoons, and some were play adaptations to some of the shows he'd watched before.

"Do you ever think about what you'll be doing in the future?" Fitz asked.

Dex nodded. "Yeah. It's hard to imagine it, though. Is there anything you want to do in the future?"

Fitz laid down against the bed they were sitting on. "I don't know, really. I mean, I think writing would be fun. If I got to write a play adaptation to a TV show I liked, I'd be really happy with that."

Ve hummed, laying down next to him. "You can try going for it. I think you'd do well. I know you didn't write the entirety of the plays, but they were fun to act out."

"Maybe. I guess we'll see. What about you?"

"I think voice acting would be fun. I could do stuff for animation, it seems less stressful than doing something live action. Then again, I don't really know yet."

"I think you'd do a good job," he said, before he linked their fingers together.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I feel so weird," Dex said.

"Can you describe it?"

"I feel anxious, we're presenting the play in just a few hours, but part of me doesn't feel that scared, and that just makes me more worried."

"The dress rehearsal and the one we presented at school were great," he assured. "Don't you remember the applause?"

"That's different. I know we've done this before, but like, we only won one award last year when there were a crap ton of them. I don't want to be the reason why we don't advance in the competition this year either."

"We'll do our best, okay? You can do that much, right?" He asked, gently grabbing one of vis hands.

Ve nodded, determination flashing in vis eyes. "Okay, we'll do our best."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Their play began, and it was going incredibly well- it felt like everyone was performing even better than usual. While he really liked the comedic play from the previous year, the lighting, special effects, and the emotional speeches made the play feel better in terms of quality.

It neared the end- when the mayor was about to learn that his friend was alive. But as Dex spoke, Fitz noticed that something was off. Ve performed fine, but one of vis lines was slightly wrong. Ve must have noticed, because as ve crouched down, ve froze, vis eyes darting side to side. Ve picked up the hand of the "dead body", vis breaths visible.

From far away, it could have been interpreted as disbelief, that maybe the character was noticing something. But Fitz knew that wasn't the case, and even he began to feel nervous.

Ve had started to panic a lot less with all the practice, but that didn't mean that vis stage fright didn't disappear.

Dex, I know you can do it. I believe in you. Just get through this ending, and it'll be over. You can do it.

That nervous feeling that he'd felt disappeared in an instant. For a few moments, he felt nothing. Then there was shock, so overwhelming that for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

Dex spoke, vis lines delivered without any stutter, and there was so much happiness in vis tone, more than Fitz had heard in a while. There was that breathless sort of relief, which mainly came from receiving good news after a long time. There was no way that it could be faked so easily. Especially not when ve had been panicking just moments ago.

Fitz smiled at vem, those same emotions that Dex was feeling could be felt by him too. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, Fitz was glad that it had happened.

When ve walked off stage after the last few scenes were over, he heard a voice in his mind.

Wonderboy, did you know that we're soulmates?

It was Dex's voice, but ve was nowhere near hi-

He caught on to that last word. Soulmates. Soulmates. That word repeated in his brain.

Yeah, soulmates. It shocked me, but not so much the soulmates part but more the "your voice is in my brain" part. How do you feel about all of this?

Despite being a writer, he had no words to explain how he felt. He was elated, happy, but none of those words felt like it did justice.

Okay, I think I can tell. Just know that I'm happy you're my soulmate too. Also, you might wanna get up on stage to bow, we can talk later.

Fitz stood up quickly, not realizing that the others were getting up. Yeah, we'll do that.

The festival itself wasn't that long, and their school was one of the later schools to present, but still, it felt like such a long time away. He had to actively concentrate on the other plays, otherwise he was going to get lost in thought, or end up spending the entire time mentally communicating with Dex.

Finally though, it ended, and once they were dropped back at school, they started their walk home together.

"Are you shocked that we're soulmates?" Dex asked.

"Not really. You and I have gotten really close over these two years, I don't think I can imagine my soulmate being anyone else," he replied. "Though I do still think that part of me is processing."

Ve snorted. "That reveal literally snapped me out of my spiraling. If you think you had no time to process it, imagine being on stage and there's just a voice. I'm lucky I didn't jump in shock, and managed to get through the rest of that."

"Oh, yeah, that would be something that would scare me. But I think we should talk about what comes next."

"We already decided that we aren't gonna date," Dex told him.

He nodded. "And I've thought about this for a while, but I do want to stay close with you. With the knowledge that you're my soulmate, that makes me want it more. I don't know what exactly either of our stories will be like in the future, but I want you to be one of the main characters in my story."

Dex looked down, vis face flushing red. "You- you're such a dork, you know that? How do you say something so cheesy? But… I can agree too."

Fitz felt his own face heating up a little bit, and was glad that his skin was dark enough for it to not show. It did sound a little cheesy.

"At least we have that much settled. Our stories are still in progress, so we can always wait before adding more plot points."

Ve laughed. "You make it sound so dramatic."

"I'm a writer!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So you look happy," Biana remarked as he entered the living room that same night. "I think you somehow look happier than you did last year."

He could still feel the smile on his face. "Dex is my soulmate."

"Wait, really? That's so cool! What happened?"

Fitz recounted the events, then began to describe how it felt. He was sort of able to feel those emotions before he realized, but once the bond was truly established, he was conscious of Dex's emotions, and the other way around. Every once in a while, he could hear Dex's voice in his mind.

"That's amazing!" Ae squealed. "Do you think that either Sophie or Linh could end up as my soulmate? That would be so cool! Even if neither of them aren't, I could see if my soulmate would join the polycule. Even if they don't, I'd be fine with that."

"Both of them could be your soulmates," he said.

"They could," she agreed. "But you know that multiple soulmates are super rare. I'd be so happy if they were both my soulmates though."

"I guess you'd just have to wait and see," he said. "Just like I did."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hope our school advances this time!" Dex whispered to him, as they sat down to watch the award ceremony for the plays.

It turned out that the play didn't manage to make it past the district showcase, but it wasn't too saddening. They could definitely understand why some of the other schools had managed to make it.

But just because they didn't make it past the round didn't mean that there weren't awards to be given. The director of their play won an award- and Fitz agreed with that decision. They had done a really good job with everything, including the choreographing of the superpowers.

The other award that their school received was one that Fitz was not surprised about. The award was for an actor and their talents, and he was proud as Dex walked onto the stage to receive the certificate.

I can't believe this is happening! Dex said.

I can, he replied. You did such a good job.

For the rest of that evening, neither of them stopped smiling.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey Dex, can you come act out this part?" Fitz called out.

When there was no reply, he called out for vem mentally. Dex, can you act out a part I'm writing please?

The door to the other bedroom opened, and ve walked into his room. "Sorry, was listening to music."

"That's fine."

"Which part do you want me to act out?"

He turned the laptop screen around so ve could read.

"Broken Harmony, right?" Ve asked.

He nodded. Then he watched as vis posture changed, vis face wearing a cocky grin that resembled Keefe's. When he'd first seen the look, he'd thought that it looked odd on vem, but over the years, he learned more and more about vem. Plus, ve had become a voice actor, and had taken on various roles.

Ve recited the dialogue, and from there, Fitz was able to continue the conversation.

"Thank you," he said out of habit, even though at this point, it was something ve would do everything ve was asked.

Ve smiled. "I'll be back in my room if you need me, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you too."

•~•~•~•~•~•

I don't leave many notes in the end but that scene where Fitz almost kisses vem on the cheek instinctively is actually something that's happened to me when I was questioning whether I was crushing on my friend or not (it was so embarrassing when I realized. I was in front of multiple people too, so I'm relieved that nobody noticed). Idk why I've decided to share this now, but as I said, I projected a lot onto Fitz this time

Kotlc taglist: @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the kotlc masterlist? Just let me know!

#fitz vacker #dex dizznee #biana vacker #queerplatonic fedex #fedex #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction #ravi writes a thing

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innittowinit · 4 years

Text

SBI headcanons awooga

Some headcanons and things for my sbi fd! Abandoned amusement park fic lol

Here's the link if you haven't read it btw

SBI last name is Reid, DT last name is Jackson btw lmao, i probably won't mention it much though unless it's like Mrs Reid for the sbi mom y'know

This has Tommy, Techno, Wilbur and Phil included; lmk if a dt post would be a good idea too

Tommy

The youngest brother, he’s seven lmao what a child

Even though he’s the youngest, he’s also the most confrontational and will gladly ‘fight’ anyone who talks bad about his brothers

He can’t fight

He’s very tall for his age but is also extremely light since he’s always running around

Phil tries to get him to try new foods a lot but Tommy’s a really picky eater

...Tantrums.. Every time he doesn’t get his way

This lead to his brothers spoiling him quite a bit, he’s still sweet enough though since Phil has had many stern conversations with him about being nice to people

Has a toy music boy, with collectable discs

Wilbur got his first disc for him, it’s his most prised possession

Every time he does all of his chores (which are really just small things like clean up after himself and keep his room tidy) someone, whether its his Mum, Wilbur or someone else, gets him a new disc

Techno got him ‘Pig step’ for his seventh birthday and he listens to it every night before bed

One time he snuck downstairs while Techno and Wilbur were having a sleepover and watched the horror movie they were watching without them realising it. Techno and Wil were the ones to get into trouble since Tommy wouldn’t sleep for a week afterwards.

Techno had to read him a story every night until he stopped thinking he was going to be eaten by a demon in the middle of the night

Drinks way too much caffeine for a kid, someone take this boys coke away

He’s got a habit of biting his nails, which has left him with some pretty crooked teeth, which will probably need to be fixed with braces when he’s older.

It’s also gross because he climbs so much there’s almost always dirt under his nails

Hasn’t really grasped the whole concept of not saying everything he thinks yet

Oh my god someone shut this boy up

He still believes in Santa and The easter bunny too

One time Techno told him Oogie Boogie from the nightmare before christmas was real and he cried

He talks a lot in school because he finds it boring but he’s also very good at maths and English for his age

Wilbur

Middle child, Wil is 13. Techno’s twin

He’s pretty insecure about his music even though he’s been playing his whole life

That’s why he likes being able to practice in L’manburg, there’s no pressure to be perfect when he’s alone with his brothers

Super extroverted and confident in everything else though, Since Techno can’t talk to most people, he usually tries to speak for both of them

After realising that Techno didn’t really like it when he said ‘Techno thinks’ a lot, back in primary school, he adapted to trying to speak for what Techno wants without making Techno’s issues obvious

They tell people who need to know, but for people they’ll only talk to a few times they usually just get away with Wilbur acting super obnoxious and loud so it seems like Techno just doesn’t have room to talk, rather than that he can't

It’s easier than getting into it since they don’t feel like most people will understand

has separation Anxiety, when he’s not with his brother he doesn’t relax/ feel safe at all. If it happens at school he won't do his work at all/ Will probably just leave the room and try to find Techno

Everyone kinda knows this and they try to suit things around it without saying it outright

He’s kinda embarrassed, he likes to think he’s the one protecting Techno but really they need each other the same amount

Techno gets this though, He doesn’t mind if wilbur has a bit of a saviour complex, he’ll play along if it makes him happy

They’re working on it with their Therapist though so don’t worry, he won't grow up to be an ass

Interests (besides music) include:

Watching obscure documentaries

Disney movies, favourite is peter pan

Skating

He and Techno got Picked on in primary school for being so close, he learnt kickboxing so he could defend himself if things ever got physical. Luckily they didn’t but he still knows how to kickbox so watch out

Almost always turning in homework late, he’s good at talking his way out of Detentions though.

And when he cant talk his way out, Techno finds a way to get detention too

He’s VERY protective of his younger brother(s(he was born first so he likes to insist that Techno is his little brother))

That’s good for the most part but he can be a little overbearing sometimes, he’s got detention many many times for cussing out people who so much as looked at Techno wrong

When he’s feeling guilty he mumbles a lot

Techno

Middle child, 13. Wilbur’s twin

Has selective Mutism, completely fine talking to Wilbur, Only talks to Tommy and Phil if Wil is there too but other than that he’s completely fine talking to them as well. He speaks to his parents but not as openly as he does with his brothers, with them its usually very quiet, one word sentences

Like Wilbur, separation Anxiety also, It’s not as bad as Wilbur’s is though, Wil just makes him comfortable enough to talk with his brothers, he can deal with being without Wilbur but he absolutely doesn’t want to

He can be a bit arrogant and possessive of his brothers at times, he’s a bit scared of them leaving him because he can be so difficult so he has a tendency to be cold to any new people they bring home

Interests include: Pvp games, ancient china, farming

He was hyper-fixated on a cartoon when he was younger and now he has multiple cosplays from it that he’ll probably never wear again

His hair is LONG and pink, they never figured out why it grew so fast or why it was pink but it is lmao

When he was born his parents were terrified, they thought he had some kind of rare condition that was going to hurt him but the doctors eventually came to the conclusion that he just had healthy hair that grew fast and the pinkness was due to an abnormality in the melanin in his system or something idk fellas im failing science pls pretend this part makes sense

Being silent with long pink hair as a kid, he got picked on a lot. There were many instances where he just pushed kids over or hit them because they were being mean

Since he’s the quiet one, teachers usually trust him a lot so he and wilbur used to skip class a lot, back when they got picked on, by saying they had to help another teacher do something

In an attempt to get him to be more social, his parents signed him up for violin lessons aged 8, he really liked his teacher and had even managed to speak a little to her over the past 4 years he took lessons

Spaces out a lot

He watches a lot of conspiracy theory videos but he doesn’t actually believe any of them, he just finds them interesting

One time he convinced Tommy they were living in a simulation and Tommy hit a kid to see if his hand would pass through

He’s spoken a few words to squidkid too since they’re childhood friends and he’s very comfortable with him. Ironically all he seems to say to him is ‘bozo’ to tease the other for saying it so often, instead of literally any other insult

Phil

Oldest brother, 16

Cares about his brothers so so so so so much like he will do anything to keep them happy and safe

One time he missed an exam because Tommy was sick and he wanted to take him to the doctor before anything else

Tommy was fine btw, just one of those bugs you get when you're little

Their parents are pretty distant so Phil has been pretty much raising them since he was little, he doesn’t mind though

Their parents aren’t bad people or anything, they just get called out a lot for work and can’t be at home a whole bunch, it’s a big part of the reason why Techno never got comfortable talking a lot around them

He works at a Nearby florist to get extra cash to buy his brothers things when his parents arent home

When their mum is home, he brings her flower arrangements home from work because he is sweet <3

He’s really into mythology and Folklore as well as drawing, when he was younger he had multiple sketchbooks filled up with different creatures that he had drawn

When he, techno and wilbur were all little, he used to play a game with them where they’d describe a monster off the tops of their heads and he’d draw it for them

Techno and Wilbur loved this and always put up Phil’s drawings on their bedroom walls

When he was 13 he used to write angsty poetry, He told wilbur about it one day and that's when wilbur first started adding lyrics to his songs

He can be pretty gullible, he likes to believe that people mean good no matter how hard it might be to see it that way

He can hold grudges for a pretty long time, he’s quick to forgive when it’s himself that’s been hurt but it’s very very hard to get on his good side again if you hurt his brothers

Watches Alien theories with techno, unlike techno he actually believes in them

Has the ‘i believe in aliens’ poster

When they were little, he used to grow strawberry plants with techno and Wilbur, this is what prompted techno to start growing other vegetables in their garden himself

#sleepyblr #sleepy bois inc #sbi #fanfic #mcyt #mineblr

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kolbisneat · 3 years

Text

MONTHLY MEDIA: January 2021

A new year but this monthly recap of media consumed keeps on keeping on! Here’s how January shaped up.

……….FILM……….

Little Shop of Horrors (1986) I’d forgotten how bonkers the ending is. Just so much fun and hopefully someday I’ll be able to check a stage production of the musical. Funny and horrifying in a way that only the absurd can be.

Time Bandits (1981) Just surreal. I wasn’t exaaaactly sure what to expect but somehow it completely delivered. I love a good fantasy picaresque. Silly and sincere but perhaps not the best pacing, I still love the whole premise and execution.

A Simple Favor (2018) In looking up what year this was released, it appears to be billed as a black comedy and...okay. It’s absolutely a weird movie and maybe putting it into a category is unfair. Some of the twists definitely feel like they’d work better in a book. I sound like I hated the movie but I mean...it kept me hooked the entire runtime, but I’m not sure I’d recommend it. Like I said, it’s a weird one.

……….TELEVISION……….

Chernobyl (Episode 1.01 to 1.05) Oofadoof. I mean I knew it was going to be bleak, but I wasn’t expecting the parallels to the current situation (science denial, underplaying severity due to politics, and just a general attitude of “I can’t see it so it’s fine”) to really hit home. Not for the faint of heart but really fantastic television for those that can stomach it.

Superstore (Episode 1.01 to 1.11) After Chernobyl, we needed something a little...lighter. It’s one of those sitcoms where you don’t reeeeeally need to watch them in any order, and it’s nice and light and fun. I mean I was sold on the idea that the co-lead is Ginsberg from Mad Men.

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Episode 4.01 to 4.08) Across four seasons there were absolutely a couple episodes that really delivered on the premise (or at least what I had hoped from the series). Batibat! The “TV” episode! All good stuff. But the rest of the time it just felt like it both had too much going on (in the background) and not enough happening (in the foreground). And I was shocked, SHOCKED, at the implications of the very last scene. Why include this?!? Anyway I might check out the comics in the hopes that it delivers a little better.

The Bachelor (Episode 25.01 to 25.04) This season started strong, but I’ll admit that Victoria feels like a villain from the early 2000s and this past episode (where new contestants are introduced) felt like the show at its worst (mean-spirited, focusing on women fighting each other, and at the same time kinda dull). Will it get better? I mean hell if I should know.

The Stranger (Episode 1.01 to 1.08) Solid British mystery series and Rupert from Ted Lasso makes an appearance! The season started with some...frustrating decisions being made, but the series evens out after a few episodes and most of the characters learn from their questionable decisions so overall, a satisfying watch.

……….READING……….

Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett (Complete) I’ve always loved Pratchett’s writing and Discworld is, without a doubt, my favourite fantasy setting. It really feels like he’s hit his stride with balancing fantasy tropes, novel ideas, his humour, and his good-natured characters. Fantastic read and I can’t recommend this series enough. If you’re looking for an alternative to grimdark fantasy, this is it.

Animal Wife by Lara Ehrlich (Complete) A beautiful collection of short stories that almost feels like a collection of long-form poetry. There’s a rhythm and musicality to each entry that is unlike anything I’ve read before. Perhaps not as over-the-top or...fun...as the cover would hint at, but it’s still a collection I 100% recommend.

Feel it Out by Jordan Sondler (Complete) While certainly not a replacement for therapy, it’s great to have a lot of general advice and support in a concise, beautifully illustrated format! Check out Sondler’s work and if it resonates, so will this book.

Doctor Strange and Doctor Doom: Triumph and Torment by Roger Stern, Mike Mignola, Kevin Nowlan, and more (Complete) Having only seen Doctor Doom in a few cartoons and the movies, this is still my best introduction to the character and gives a glimpse as to why he’s such a good villain. It actually works well at introducing both Doctors and has a great inciting incident as to why these two join forces. Really great reread and now I want more stories of both characters!

Silver Surfer Black by Donny Cates, Tradd Moore, and Dave Stewart (Complete) Rereading this cause I love how concise, fantastical, and psychedelic it all is! This and Cosmic Ghost Rider (who I’m just learning was also written by Cates) are two of my top reads of recent Marvel stuff so I plan on checking out his Guardians of the Galaxy and Dr. Strange offerings next!

……….AUDIO……….

Off Menu (Podcast) Love the concept (interviewing mostly comedians on their ideal meal) and the hosts are excellent.

The Chernobyl Podcast (Podcast) An excellent compliment to the series and I wish more series would dive into production like this; I love a good peek behind the curtain.

……….GAMING……….

Inside (Playdead) So atmospheric and spooky and probably the upper limit for me, as far as “scariness” in games is concerned. It does a great job of changing things up and each puzzle really feels like a set piece. No filler and I’m only now just mentioning how beautiful the game is. 100% recommend.

Hades (Supergiant Games) I wasn’t sure I’d like it (Roguelike games are not my jam) but this is proving to be a loooooot of fun! Though I have a deep love of Greek mythology so there’s probably some bias creeping in. Anyway I’m knee-deep in this and am more than happy to chat about it if you’re playing as well.

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) Holiday special has wrapped up and now the group is stuck in a hive of giant insects! The longer recap is on Reddit and is chock full of hexcrawling details.

And that’s it! As always, let me know if you have anything to suggest and happy Sunday!

#Monthly Media #Kolbisneat #Andrew Kolb

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the-light-finds-its-way · 3 years

Text

Magnus Thorbjorn

Guardians name: Magnus Thorbjorn

Age: Roughly 34 when resurrected, currently unknown

Race: Awoken

Call signs/alias: Peacebroker, Traveler’s Favored, Evocate General

Pronouns: He/him

Class: Titan

Preferred subclass(es): Solar

Ghost’s name: Einar

Their Vanguard: Zavala, Ikora, Cayde-6

Fireteam name: Harbingers of Destiny

Fireteam teammates: Magnus, Dominus Ghaul, Anthem-99, Velliks, Gadrax, Kahun

Favorite legendary weapon: Steelfeather Repeater

Favorite exotic weapon: Ace of Spades

Favorite exotic armor: Crest of Alpha Lupi

Favorite ornament armor set: Empyrean Titan

Favorite weapon ornament: Glee Barrage

What stats do they focus on: Resilience, Recovery, Strength

Are they offense, defence, or support: Offense

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range: Mid range

Do they lean more “Element of Surprise” or “Upfront and Aggressive”: Upfront and aggressive

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible: Strikes and Crucible evenly

Who was their mentor(if they had one. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): Ikora and Zavala

Who are they mentoring(if they are. If it is a character you created, tell us about them!): Dominus Ghaul

What ship do they have: Saint’s Invocation

What is their Sparrow: Praxic Finery

Favorite Ghost shell: In Memoriam

Favorite shader: Circadian Chill /Virtified Chronology

Favorite color: Blue

Favorite food: Pizza

Favorite piece of Pre-Collapse tech(if they’ve seen any): None, Magnus hasn’t really seen any

Favorite Pre-Collapse music(if they’ve heard any): Anything from Twilight Force

Favorite place in The Last City(if it’s a place you created, give a little description!): The Hollow Cairn. This is a place where many once-invading species have attacked throughout history, and it has sunken into the ground since due to the massive destruction created over centuries. However, the place has since become a point of unity for everyone, with communities of Hive, Cabal, Humans, Eliksni, etc. all building shelters within the crater and living together. It’s a bustling district, and only because Magnus sacrificed so much of himself and his efforts to unify everyone.

Favorite NPC(s): Zavala, Ikora, Cayde-6, Saint-14, Banshee-44, Eris Morn, Mithrax, Spider, Failsafe, Devrim Kay, Suraya Hawthorne, Sjur Eido

Favorite patrol location: Anywhere on the Tangled Shore

5 things your Guardian likes(can be anything): Diplomacy, metal music, leading, sleeping, using the Hammer of Sol

Least favorite food: Steak

Least favorite shader: Lilac Bombast

Least favorite patrol location: Braytech Futurescape on Mars

Least favorite Pre-Collapse tech(if they’ve seen any): N/A

Least favorite NPC(s): Oryx, Savathun, Mara Sov, Lakshmi-2

Least favorite weapon ornament: Jade Countenance

Least favorite ornament armor set: Pandemonic (skeletal Titan) set

Least favorite legendary weapon: Literally any fusion rifle ever

Least favorite exotic weapon: Telesto

Least favorite exotic armor: One-Eyed Mask

5 things your Guardian dislikes(this can be anything): Dishonesty, disloyalty, feeling hopeless, giving up, loss

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like: It’s well-managed, with a LOT of collectibles from all around the galaxy in display cases, organized on shelves and wall hangers, and on tables. Magnus loves to collect trinkets that have meaning to him.

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?(Y'all remember Polyvore? The website URSTYLE works very similar if that helps!):

What hobbies and/or skills does you Guardian have: Writing and reciting poetry, learning languages (speaks English, Ulurent, Eliksni all fluently), fighting, crafting armor, singing

What would your Guardian’s lore book be called: Broken Broker

Where was your Guardian reborn?(If you created the location, give us a little description!): Sector 25 in The Last City

What were they wearing when they were reborn: Scorched black cotton hoodie, worn-out black jeans, beat-up sneakers

What was their reaction to being reborn: FIGHT, AND DEFEND THE PEOPLE!!!

What was their reaction to their first rez: Sheer confusion, then immediate duty

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles: Both. He met Vex who were attacking and rampaging The Last City, but fought them and was then met by Zavala who’d come to handle the situation, only to see a new Guardian had already done this. Zavala saw the distress on Magnus’s face at this, and assured him over and over again.

Who was the first other Guardian they met?(Same thing! If you made them, give a little description!): Zavala

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found: Magnus has no indication of his past life, and knows nothing about it. He assumes he wasn’t Reefborn, but he partially wonders if he was just because of his vehement hatred for Mara Sov. Magnus can’t find anything on who he was, nor does he really care to know.

How did your Guardian get their name(if they didn’t rez with past life momentos): He knew/remembered it, and also Einar addressed him by “Magnus” when he was first revived and woke up.

Going back to your Guardian’s lore book, what would be some some quotes or passages from their book: Two passages are actually readable at my Ao3, dawnbreakerdystopia! Most of the lorebook passages would recount the tales of Magnus’s efforts to join the warring species of the galaxy together in unity, and would likely use the Hammer of Sol which he wields as a metaphor, leading those who read them to wonder if Magnus actually wielded it (he does). The passages would also recount the daring exploits he’s done to protect his friends, family, the training he put Ghaul through to be a strong and independent Guardian, and overall they’d just be written like poetic legends.

Does your Guardian have a significant other: Cayde-6, and they’re married.

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to: Magnus never explored until he was resurrected.

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City: This place needs defenders.

Is your Guardian a part of a clan: Not officially. He’s sort of a part of every group regardless of whether he chooses to be or not. Life finds a way to drag him into them all.

Does your Guardian’s clan have a back story? If so, what is it?(if you want to or able to share): N/A

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be: “I’ve got a thousand years on me, and for each year, a million lives. I can’t bear to sacrifice any one but my own.”

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians (The Last City/The Farm), Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rouge Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords(if your Guardian is an Old Light) tell us about it!: Magnus has unified Cabal and Humankind, mostly, because he was brought by the Traveler to Ghaul who was resurrected as a Guardian himself. He’s had plenty of rough encounters with them, but nowadays, they accept him as their Evocate General, and bend to his every command (Magnus NEVER abuses this). Magnus has had very few positive interactions with Hive, as Savathun and Oryx have constantly tried to seduce him with Darkness and ruin him. He struggles to trust Hive, but knows that there is good in everything just as there is bad, nothing is inherently evil, and thus, he has to and does accept Hive who are willing to be his allies. Magnus’s interactions with Eliksni have always been positive, and he’s always gotten along with them. Scorn and Vex, he has yet to meet any who’d be willing to work with him. Magnus personally hates the Vex entirely, but still holds out the belief that there is at least one out there who’s good and friendly.

Does your Guardian have any unconventional allies or connections(By Vanguard standards): PLENTY!!!! Ghaul, Spider, being Evocate General of Cabal, you name it.

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis: Magnus is against himself using it. He understands that others can make use of the power, but he HATES the Darkness, and would never trust a single thing from it, let alone a “gift” which would inevitably corrupt him, not to mention bring him nearer to it which he refuses to do.

Did they run The Last Wish raid? How did they react to seeing a live Ahamkara a.k.a Riven: Magnus has not run this raid yet.

Did they run The Deep Stone Crypt raid? How did they react to the Crypt and seeing Exo Eliskni: Magnus has not run this raid yet, either.

Is your Guardian from D1? How did they react to seeing Taniks alive once again: He’s not from D1

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War: Magnus followed the main story, and was the only Lightbearer, thus he spearheaded the entire operation and literally held the fate of every single life on his shoulders and his alone. He fought, nonstop, and never gave up or slowed down.

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them(These are only a handful of characters!)>>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled: Magnus looks up to Osiris for his wisdom, only a little, though, and he’d never tell Osiris this. Both of them know it, though, and words are not necessary to convey their mutual respect.

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm: He loves her, he wants to help her at all costs, and he knows to never pity Eris, or try protecting her without asking if she needs protection first, as she’s highly capable and strong-willed.

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard: Magnus is fucking head over HEELS for him, and would lay his life on the line for Cayde. He was devastated beyond words when Uldren killed him, but came to understand that it was the Darkness’s doing, not Uldren’s. And thus, he forgave him.

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard: Mom. She’s just straight-up his mom.

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard: Mentor, dad-like friend, always reliable.

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard: Extreme respect, love, honors him deeply, aspires to be like him, MUST PROTECT!!!

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords: Indifferent. Magnus entirely disagrees with and somewhat hates what the Iron Lords did, but he senses good in Saladin and sees it as well. He holds onto that good, as he does for everything and everyone.

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone: FRIEND!!! Always a good motivator, always reliable, selfless af which Magnus respects, and Magnus aspires to be so much like him. Is also slightly intimidated by Shaxx.

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider: Friend, must be protected, is a new person and not Uldren, is capable of great things and must be guided to do just that. Magnus sees Crow follows his heart, and that’s more than enough for him to know this man is on the right path.

The Spider, The Shore’s Only Law, founder of “House” Spider: DAD!!! Spider adopted Magnus after (reluctantly at first) he went to Spider with a bounty from the Vanguard saying to kill him. Magnus knew this had to be a setup, it was, and Spider was immediately thankful, and then began calling Magnus his son. Both of them trust each other with everything and anything, and Magnus knows Spider is a good man at heart.

Uldren Sov, Prince of the Reef, Master of Crows: No. Don’t trust him, he’s misguided as FUCK!

Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef, Queen of the Awoken, Ex-Kell of Wolves: FUCK! YOU!!! Magnus would throw her off the throne and take it himself if he wasn’t so busy being Evocate General. He’d imprison her until her natural death. The things Mara has done, to the Awoken, the galaxy, and her brother, are unforgiveable, and she MUST pay for that.

Variks, the Loyal, founder of House Judgement: A friend, an ally, someone Magnus can rely on. He values Variks, even if he made mistakes in the past, but Magnus is a firm believer in destiny, and thus thinks Variks’s actions have been done for a reason which is to bring the world to the present it’s at.

Mithrax, the Forsaken, Kell of Light, founder of House Light: Absolutely reliable, always a good friend, Magnus will drop everything and go help protect Mithrax or aid him in his endeavors if he’s able. Magnus loves him as a close friend, and is deeply bound to House Light.

The Exo Stranger/Elizabeth “Elsie” Bray, Granddaughter of Clovis I and Sister to Ana Bray: Can be trusted, must be trusted, and Magnus also takes pity on her for what she went through both in the future, and by the hands of Clovis Bray.

Eramis, of House Salvation, Kell of Darkness: FUCK NOPE, don’t trust, avoid at all costs.

Empress Caiatl of the Cabal Imperial Empire: An ally and definitely trustable. Her motives are questionable, but Magnus understands where she’s coming from, and therefore believes she can be a great companion with some compromise.

Taniks the Scarred, the Perfected, the Abomination, the Shadow Thief: Nooooooooooooo get away get away get away GET AWAY!!!

The Darkness is fast approaching. How is your Guardian handling it: A N X I E T Y! !! !!!! ! !! But Magnus is taking action, fighting it head-on and never backing down for even a moment. He refuses to let the Darkness take hold, and aims to destroy it entirely once and for all.

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights: “The Darkness is a lie, but the Light is true. Nobody can see in the shadows of night, so it’s your duty as a Guardian to eclipse the world in endless sun, and create a world everyone can see within and beyond.”

#my guardians #long post

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magistralucis · 3 years

Note

I plan to read Desiderata but I don't know a thing about Rammstein. What should I know before diving in?

That depends very heavily on what about Rammstein would interest you.

I’ll be honest, anon, Desiderata is not the best story to start with if you’re completely new to R+. The story assumes a familiarity with the band’s history, as well as 1980s East German politics, and depicts both with terms and viewpoints familiar at the time. It’s not very accessible if you want to read a story about Rammstein, I’m afraid, it is very much a period piece.

That said, I can talk a little about what made me write Desiderata; if you’re interested in any of those topics, you’re probably good to go. I will also add some pointers as to how to begin a journey into Rammstein in general. This will be a very long post beneath the cut.

-------------

1) I’m interested in life during the GDR. I’m especially interested in how ordinary East Germans lived, down to what they ate, the kinds of people they’d meet, where they could travel to for the holidays. What people take for everyday occurrences are anything but outside of their homes. Most of Desiderata takes place in the pre- and early-Rammstein era (1985-1995), when the band members didn’t know they were going to get so big, nor what would happen after the reunification of Germany. I wanted to depict their era realistically. Desiderata is a written painting of that time.

2) I wanted to write on the anti-authoritarian character. To distill a long and complex history down, Rammstein has their origins in Ostpunk, and many of its band members spent their early life resisting the government in one way or another. They didn’t all do this in the same way, nor always with the conscious desire to stick it to the government. Sometimes they paid for it anyway. In Richard’s case, with terrible consequences, as his arrest and detainment by the Stasi finally made him flee the country. Desiderata is written in Richard’s POV and includes a sequence on what might have occurred during this time, as well as an analysis of his general psyche on the years leading up to that arrest. Desiderata’s account relies heavily on actual interviews Richard has done, as well as published Rammstein material, so if you’re interested in a character study of this sort you might like it.

3) I did not want to depict the above through the patronizing lens commonly found in Western media. It’s easy to fall into the trap of binary opposites when you’re writing about stuff like this: Richard was oppressed by the GDR so he must hate everything about the GDR, and/or furthermore, the GDR must have been evil. It’s the other way around if you’re approaching this from an anti-capitalist lens: if the East Germans had known the ‘freedom’ which lay beyond the wall was actually mid-stage capitalism, and if they’d known how badly that shit would break down in a couple of decades, they wouldn’t have wanted it.

Now I do not know what the objectively correct political position is here. But when you’re writing a character study of Richard, it shouldn’t be either of those. It’s definitely not how Rammstein looks at their past, judging by the interviews they’ve given and the books they’ve published; not even Richard has such a black-and-white approach to the life he led. It’s easy to forget that when you’re writing a fic, or even an article which tries to lean on the ‘facts’; one’s subconscious biases inform how they process facts, and I want to do better than that. I’ve fallen into that morality trap before because I didn’t know any better, and as a result I wrote some really bad stories, and I am ashamed of that. Rammstein have led a rich and complicated life with ups and downs. Many of them sincerely loved the GDR, the ones who didn’t still saw plenty of self-admitted good in it. If you would like to bask in my efforts at honesty, as fragmented as it is (for in the end, I am not from the GDR), Desiderata is the best I’ve done to this date.

4) Some good old Tillchard. Yes, I admit it, Desiderata is also a pairing exercise. ‘Tillchard’ is the shorthand for the pairing between Till (vocal) and Richard (lead guitarist); they are longtime friends in real life, and they share a trust between them seldom paralleled by anyone else in the band, imo. They’ve lived together for a time, they raised their daughters together, they began their foray into music in general while being aware of each other. They have duets together for God’s sake. I’ve been digging Tillchard for ten years so I need to stop before this becomes a longer essay than it should be, but long story short, if this becomes the first pairing you’re interested in I’d recommend adding Desiderata to the fanfic pile.

Ultimately, all the above points would still work out for the best if you knew more about Rammstein. Now for the practical recommendations. See if you like their music first: currently they have seven albums out, the most recent of which is Rammstein (2019). I don’t know how hard you like your music, but in order of most hardness to least my rank goes:

Liebe ist für alle da / Reise, Reise

Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Mutter

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

My personal ranking is:

Mutter

Liebe ist für alle da / Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Reise, Reise

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

Their best tracks usually have music videos attached to them. Check them out too. R+ take serious care with their music video narratives, they’re often their own little story in themselves. Their live performances are worth watching, even in video. If you can read German, I would also recommend checking out Rammstein literature, of which there are plenty. Till has three volumes of poetry out (Messer, In Stillen Nachten, 100 Gedichte); Flake has two autobiographies (Der Tastenficker and Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag, the latter of which is available in English); Mix Mir Einen Drink is the biography of Feeling B, which many members of Rammstein played in before Rammstein, and is an invaluable source for GDR life.

Out of everything I’ve listed, as of Feb 2021, Flake’s autobiography is hands-down the best place to begin your Rammstein journey. There will be a more extensive book about Rammstein by Olaf Heine soon, but it won’t be released until later this year.

There is no end goal to how much you should be interested in Rammstein, or what about the band you ought to like. At any point in this journey, try out a fic or two, see what you like. The fandom has written about basically every music video, every notable event that happened to the band (some may include sources!), and just about every combination of pairings possible among the six. You are in very well-covered territory, I promise :D

Feel free to ask more questions if need be. There is so much you can write about this band, I’ve definitely not covered everything. If at any point in this process you read Desiderata, and you end up enjoying it, that’s all I could ask for.

#Anonymous #tillchard #long post under cut #rammstein fanfiction #desiderata

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yournameyn · 3 years

Text

Feeling Deeply

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1

Chapter 2

And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.

Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.

They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.

He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.

Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.

Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.

This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.

Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.

Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”

“What?!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”

She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”

“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”

“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”

“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”

Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”

Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.

“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.

Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.

Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.

Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.

Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.

On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.

Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”

“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.

“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.

Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”

“Did you love him?”

“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.

He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”

She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”

Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”

She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”

Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”

Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.

He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”

She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”

She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -

“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”

Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.

After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”

Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.

He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”

This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.

Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.

When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.

Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”

When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.

Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”

Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.

Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…

Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.

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