#I shouldn’t write tumblr posts when I’m under the weather | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

science-hoes · 3 years

Text

Warming Up - Jimmy Woo x Reader Smut

Jimmy Woo x Reader Smut (18+ only)

Words: 2k+

A/N: I have done it. I wrote the first (based on my searches) Jimmy Woo smut for tumblr. I love this man so much. He needs to be appreciated. Anyway, this is a really cheesy scenario but I neeeed the *spicy* content. I’ll probably write more Jimmy Woo x Reader because this man has taken over my life. Also this was my celebration post for 1k followers 🥳

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, cheesy scenario, language

You had been in cold weather before, but it had never been this cold. Fuck. It was painful to walk back to the resting quarters as the slight breeze chilled your bones. Monitoring the town of Westview was stressful, but oh how you envied the seemingly perfect weather that Wanda was generating. And as if on cue, it started to rain. It wasn’t cold enough to form sleet, but it sure was cold enough to quicken your pace. Maybe Wanda could control the weather out here too, to piss off everyone who was surveilling her.

Your walk to the resting quarters was much longer than you would have liked it to be. By the time you reached the temporary building, your body was soaked from head to toe. You entered the resting quarters with your teeth chattering and arms folded across your chest. Just as you were about to enter your section, you bumped into a sturdy figure that grabbed onto you to stop you from falling backwards.

“Hey, Y/N.” Your coworker, Agent Jimmy Woo, greeted. He awkwardly let go of you once he realized he was still cradling your body against his to stop you from stumbling backwards.

You looked up to him, your hair plastered to your forehead from the rain. “Hey.” Was all you managed to say in between shivers.

Jimmy tilted his head slightly. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there. Looks like you weren’t cut out for the cold weather.” He noted, but still flashing his charming smile.

You smiled in return, damn his smile was contagious. “I g-guess not.” Your teeth shattered involuntarily.

Jimmy looked up and down the hallway to check for other agents. “You don’t look so well, Y/N. Why don’t you come on to my room and I’ll get you all warmed up.” He said.

You raised an eyebrow, assuming his offer was meant to be suggestive. “You’ll get me warmed up?” You repeated.

Jimmy’s eyes widened and he began shaking his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just- I have hot chocolate in my room.” He rambled.

You smiled and nodded. “Oh, okay.” You said.

Jimmy began to walk down the hall. “It’s this way.” He said, making sure you were okay to walk.

You followed him to the end of the hallway until he scanned his badge at the final door on the left. The door slid open, and you slipped inside his room after him.

Jimmy walked over to his kitchenette and began pulling ingredients from a cabinet. You sat down on one of the chairs in his room, shivering still. Your clothes were still ice cold even with the warm heat blasting from the air vent. You tried to reach for a blanket that was on the chair opposite to you, but as you did, you lost your coordination and fell to the floor with a painful thud.

“I’m sorry.” You immediately said as you tried to lift yourself from the ground.

But before you could open your eyes, Jimmy was already by your side, gently lifting you into his surprisingly strong arms. “Y/N, you’re not okay.” He said worriedly before placing you on his standard twin sized bed.

“I’m fine, I’m just a little cold.” You tried to play off.

Jimmy began to remove your wet jacket from your body before working at your soaked shoes and socks. “You have to get out of these clothes.” He explained.

Your eyes widened slightly as his hands brushed against your hips and slipped under your shirt. “Trust me, I was a Boy Scout. You’ve got mild hypothermia, but it can turn really bad really quick.” He said, but looked to you for permission to keep going.

You nodded, and he pulled your shirt off. You helped carefully lower your pants down, leaving you only in a bra and panties. You could tell, even in the dim light, that he was blushing heavily. “I-I’ll let you do the rest.” He said.

You slipped under the covers before discarding your undergarments onto the floor as well. Jimmy grabbed the blanket you attempted to reach earlier and placed it on top of the covers. You were still trembling pitifully, and it hurt Jimmy to see you like that.

“I’m still s-so cold.” You whimpered.

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably on his feet for a moment before pulling off his FBI jacket. “You need body heat. I can’t give you anything too warm yet or it’ll hurt you.” He explained.

You watched as he looked away from you as he slid under the covers to press against your body. He wrapped his muscular arms around you, pulling your head to his chest. Immediately, your hands found his arms. The sensation of your frigid skin against his was too strong. You needed more of it. You quickly untucked his buttoned up shirt and snaked your hands under to find more exposed skin. Your arms burned as they began to increase in temperature again.

At first Jimmy sucked his abdomen in, trying to hide from your freezing touch, but he soon responded by wrapping his legs around yours. “Geez, Y/N, you’re really cold.” He hissed.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, I think we est-t-tablished that.” You chattered.

Jimmy let go of you for a moment, and you made a small whimper that broke his heart. “No, no, I was just gonna take off my shirt. It’ll give you more heat.” He explained.

And hell you weren’t gonna argue with that. He broke the knot in his tie and slid it off his neck before making quick work of his shirt buttons. It only took a short second for him to toss his shirt aside, giving you a quick glimpse of his toned upper body. Goddamn, you wouldn’t have guessed he was so cut from that bulky jacket he always wears. He wrapped his arms around your frail body again, this time defrosting your skin. But you let out an unholy moan as your breasts brushed against the coarse hair dusted on his chest.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow at the sound, but connected the dots as to what happened. “I-I’m sorry.” He stammered, not knowing how to respond.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. T-that was out of line for me.” You responded, the embarrassment helping your face heat up.

Jimmy shook his head. “No, it was fine. I mean, it wasn’t a bad thing, it was good. But not in like a creepy way, like a…a normal human response w-“ He rambled.

You cut him off by pressing a chilly kiss against his soft lips. He didn’t move at first, afraid of what to do next. After a rush of confidence, he ran his hand up your neck, anchoring his fingers in your hair, and deepened the kiss. You shifted, pulling him on top of you. But as you did, his chest rubbed against yours again, and you let out another involuntary moan into his mouth. This time Jimmy chuckled and kissed his way down your neck.

“Is this okay?” He asked. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of a hypothermic person.”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, this is only helping. Trust me.” You responded, feeling heat spreading to all ends of your body.

And that was enough reassurance. Jimmy’s hands delicately traced the sides of your waist as he kissed down to your chest, stopping at particularly sensitive areas to gently suck the skin and leave a pink mark. His nose brushed against the valley between your breasts and placed a sweet kiss there before licking a path up to one of your nipples. He swirled his tongue in lazy circles, taking his time with you.

The sensation of his burning tongue slipping against your icy bud drew a whimper from your chest. Jimmy heard your fussing and reached one of his hands up to your other breast. His fingers twisted the nipple there while simultaneously gripping the other one with his teeth. You gripped the sheets on his bed, twisting them in frustration, and bucked your hips into his chest.

“Jimmy…” You moaned, wanting him to keep caressing your breasts but also keep moving down your body.

Jimmy hummed in response, looking up to you with those sweet brown eyes. “What do you want, baby doll?” He whispered against your skin.

You blushed at his old-fashioned nickname for you but tried to refocus your attention on your body’s demands. “I need you inside me.” You replied.

Jimmy gripped your hips tightly before searing a trail of kisses down your stomach. “Can I taste you first? I’ve wanted to do this so long.” He pleaded.

Your walls involuntarily clenched at his request. You nodded, “Please.” You granted.

Jimmy grabbed your thighs and tossed them over his broad shoulders. He didn’t waste any time teasing you or pressing kisses along the inside of your legs. He licked a long and deep stripe against your pussy, drawing a desperate scream from your throat. He moaned at the amount of slick that he swallowed down.

Without hesitation he delved his tongue into you, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure. You secured your fingers in his black locks, tugging when his tongue snaked deeper into your pussy. He reached up with his thumb and rubbed circles on top of your sweet spot. You weren’t sure if it was the cold or the fact that you had been dreaming of this moment for weeks, but you were quickly approaching your first orgasm of the night.

“J-jimmy, I’m gonna come.” You panted, tightening your thighs around his neck.

“Don’t hold back on me, baby doll.” He mumbled against your folds.

And that nickname pushed you over the edge. Your walls throbbed and waves of electricity shot through your body. Jimmy continued to lap up your juices as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue. You were suddenly very aware of your panting and placed a hand on your chest to feel your pounding heart. Jimmy kissed up your body again, worshipping every patch of skin he could get his lips on.

“Was that okay?” He asked innocently.

You huffed a laugh and met his lips with yours. You could taste yourself in his mouth. “That was…amazing.” You answered. “But I still need your dick inside me.”

Jimmy chuckled against your lips and guided your hands down his firm chest to the waistband of his khaki pants. You could feel his packed bulge against your hands as you whipped the belt from his waist and undid his pants. He kicked them off as you pulled his briefs down, his cock springing free. You took it in your hand, swirling the precum around the tip. Jimmy moaned deeply against your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

You adjusted your hips and swiped the tip of his cock through your folds. Jimmy grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to him.

“Are you ready?” He asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” You breathed.

Jimmy slowly pressed against your entrance. It probably wasn’t the best idea to start fucking without stretching you out, but that was a problem for tomorrow. You hissed as your walls began to stretch. After what seemed like an eternity, he bottomed out inside of you and you whimpered from the sting. Jimmy leaned down against your body again and pressed kisses against your flushed cheeks.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He whispered.

His gentle words made you smile and you reached up to hold his face in your hands. He flashed that charming smile again, and you couldn’t help but kiss it off his face. “I can keep going.” You mumbled against his lips.

Without moving away from you, Jimmy slowly pulled out, leaving you empty. You were worried that he was going to just torture you before he slammed back into you with full force. You screamed into his mouth and dug your nails into his shoulders.

“Come on, baby doll, I know you can take it.” He whispered, catching your mouth with his.

He pounded his hips into yours at a brutally fast pace, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. You held onto him for dear life as his cock buried itself into you over and over again. You felt that same build up of heat in your pussy with each snap of your hips. You buried your face in his neck, moaning and panting.

“Jimmy…” You whimpered as your orgasm neared.

Jimmy felt your walls begin to tighten and he quickened his already brisk pace. “Come for me, sweetheart.” He encouraged.

After a few more thrusts, your body let go and your vision went black from the overwhelming sensation. Your pussy throbbed around his cock, but he didn’t let off. He wanted to make sure you came again before he would let himself go. And with your final scream, Jimmy let out a moan in tandem with yours as his cum spilled inside you. The pulsating of his cock was just enough stimulation to help you finish out your own orgasm.

Jimmy collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. For a moment, all you could hear were the staggering breaths heaving from your chests. After a minute of silence, Jimmy looked back up to you, sheepishly this time.

“Are you still cold?” He asked with a joking smile.

You giggled and kissed him gently. “If I say yes, can we do that again?” You teased.

Jimmy laughed and pressed his forehead against yours. “Baby doll, we can do this any time you want.”

A/N: Lmk if you want to be added to my Jimmy Woo x Reader taglist :)

#jimmy woo #jimmy woo x reader #jimmy woo x y/n #wandavision #jimmy woo smut #antman #agent jimmy woo

200 notes · View notes

giowritess · 4 years

Text

— prompt & trope list —

p r o m p t & trope l i s t — m a s t e r l i s t

— under the cut you have a compilation of prompts and tropes I’ve created and found here on Tumblr and internet.

— don’t forget to check my fandoms post to see who and what I write for!

TROPES

1. Christmas

2. New Year

3. Valentine’s Day

4. Mother’s Day

5. Father’s Day

6. Wedding

7. Arranged marriage

8. Babysitter

9. Coffee shop

10. Book store

11. Fake dating/marriage

12. Forbidden love

13. Pet store

14. Parent

15. Teacher

16. Flower shop

17. Locked in a room

18. Bed sharing

19. Stranded due to weather

20. Next door neighbors

21. Bakery

FLUFF/GENERAL/ROMANCE

1. You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type. 2. Oh my god, did you just say that out loud? 3. You expecting someone? 4.Do you need a place to stay for tonight? 5. Look at us, we’re basically a couple already. 6. Compliments won’t pay my drinks. 7. Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink I might consider talking to you. 8. That won’t work. Try again. 9. You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions. 10. Do you trust me? 11. Can I kiss you? 12. It’s lonely here without you. 13. Is that my shirt? 14. You own my heart. 15. We’re more than friends and you know it! 16. I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight. 17. It was you the whole time. 18. I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you. 19. I’m not going anywhere. 20. You make me want things I can’t have. 21. Steal the blankets again and I’ll put my cold feet on you. 22. You’re in love with her. 23. I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge. 24. Are you even listening to me?! 25. I didn’t think you could get any less romantic. 26. You make everyday worth living. 27. You’ve shown me what love feels like. 28. You’ve always felt like home. 29. I can’t imagine a world/life without you. 30. I am home. 31. I’m right where I belong. 32. Can’t you stay a little longer? 33. You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to. 34. You make me want to be better. 35. I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me. 36. I think you’re just afraid to be happy. 37. Why haven’t you kissed me already? 38. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 39. I can’t stay away from you. 40. I’m better when I’m with you. 41. I tried my best not to feel anything for you, but I failed. 42. I don’t want to be alone right now. 43. I don’t trust myself around you. 44. I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before. 45. Can we just lie here for a moment? 46. I’ve never hated you. You just... make me feel things I don’t understand. 47. If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you. 48. I could get used to waking up next to you, actually. 49. Please, don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry. 50. You’re a terrible liar. 51. You’re the only person I want to be with tonight. 52. You’re not going anywhere. 53. You were always good for me. 54. You’re more than just a one night stand. 55. I’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.

ANGST & SAD

1. I can’t stand the thought of you. 2. Don’t fuck this up. 3. How stupid do you think I am? 4. You broke my heart and all you can say is sorry? 5. Don’t you dare to leave me. Not now. 6. I’m dying. There’s nothing you can do about it. 7. I’m not gonna lie. This isn’t how I planned for this to go down. 8. I can’t do the things you do. 9. I might never get another chance to say this. 10. Tell me I’m wrong. 11. How much of that did you hear? 12. I thought I could trust you. 13. Are you just going to leave me here? 14. Don’t. I don’t have to hear your pathetic excuses anymore. 15. You knew about this all along, didn’t you? 16. I still believe there’s a good person in you. 17. It was necessary. 18. I’m sorry this had to go down like this. 19. What the hell is wrong with you?! 20. Is that how little you think of me? 21. I’m too sober for this shit. 22. It’s not that easy. 23. You’re more than that. 24. She’s hot, but she’s evil. 25. Well, behaved women rarely make history, do they? 26. That’s not what I meant and you know it. 27. I have to tell you something. 28. Why am I not surprised? 29. She’s not yours. 30. There’s no us. There never was. 31. I made a mistake. 32. Please, don’t walk out that door. 33. When were you going to tell me? 34. The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you. 35. Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds? 36. If i asked you to stay, would you? 37. I don’t know who you are anymore. 38. I trusted you. 39. Hang on. You’re gonna be okay. Keep breathing. 40. You crossed a line. 41. There’s no turning back from this. 42. I needed you, and you weren’t there.

SMUT — 18+

1. Don’t make me take you home and punish you. 2. I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly. 3. You’re more than just a one night stand. 4. Like what you see? 5. Try to stay quiet, understand? 6. We’re in public, you know. 7. I really don’t care. You still look hot and i’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now. 8. Are you sure? Once we start, i might not be able to stop. 9. Make me. 10. Stop teasing me so much. 11. You’re in trouble now. 12. First one to make a noise loses. 13. Mine. 14. Behave. 15. What did you just say? 16. Come here. 17. Watch me. 18. If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god. 19. If you insist. 20. Could he make you feel as good as i do? 21. You make a sound and its game over. 22. If i have to stop what i’m doing, you wont be able to walk for the next week. 23. I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet. 24. C’mere, you can sit on my lap until i’m done working. 25. What? Does that feel good? 26. If we get caught i’m blaming you. 27. We have to be quiet. 28. Tell me again. 29. Say it. 30. If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning? 31. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole. 32. You better shut that pretty little mouth before i put it to work, doll. 33. I really want to kiss you right now. 34. Then do it. 35. You’re not taking me to bed. Ever. 36. Who said it had to be on the bed? 37. She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips. 38. Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. Thats cute. 39. Don’t fucking touch what is not yours. 40. I’m not sure if its a sexual thing or not. 41. There’s people here. 42. I don’t care what you do, just fuck me. 43. Fuck you. 44. I’m not going to touch you unless you beg. 45. You can’t tease me like that and expect not to be punished. 46. I’m gonna strangle you. 47. Is that a promise? 48. You look a bit tied up, want me to come back later? 49. Stop distracting me. 50. I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that. 51. Saddle up doll. 52. What are you doing in my bed?! 53. If you're going to act like a little brat then I'm going to treat you like a little brat. 54. You'd better be quiet or everyone's going to know what a naughty little slut you are. 55. Look at you, I've only started using my fingers and you're already shaking. 56. I can't wait to be on my knees for you later. 57. Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me. 58. If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself. 59. Such a needy little thing, aren't you? 60. You better watch your fucking mouth. 61. I love the way you look with my fingers inside you. 62. Wanna see what I'm wearing underneath all this? 63. I wonder what your girlfriend/boyfriend would do if they knew what you were doing right now. 64. Do you know how beautiful you are? It's truly distracting. 65. If you leave the house wearing that then the second you get back home I'm going to bend you over that bed. 66. I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me. 67. Let me show you what happens to little brats who don't follow the rules. 68. You know, there wasn't a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.

2K notes · View notes

rachelbethhines · 3 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Ok, so I’ve tried and tried several times to get this posted, we’ll see if this is the time it goes through. Half the reason why this review series has slowed down is not just the multitude of real life stuff I have to deal with, but also Tumblr just refusing to work with me and deleting my posts. I also can’t save my work else where due to Tumblr messing up the formatting. It’s been a frustrating mess and so far no one @staff has come up with a tech solution or work around.

Summary: Rapunzel helps to rebuild Old Corona, (after its near destruction from the Black Rocks) which will become the permanent home of Red and Angry, who have returned to Corona to settle down. However, she begins to notice strange footprints around the area, as well as the livestock becoming more unruly and fearful. The group comes across a monster hunter named Creighton, who explains to the group that the area is being stalked by a werewolf, who possessed one of Corona's citizens. Aiming to save this person rather than kill them, Rapunzel sets out to find who it is.

When Was This Decided?

No seriously, when was this decided? It’s a pretty big leap go from ‘the rocks makes various towns inhabitable’ to ‘let’s rebuild!’ What’s changed here? Cause the rocks haven’t been removed and Rapunzel failed in her mission to nullify their power. In fact the rocks were not only reawaken in the second season finale but shown to be under the power of someone who’s intentions were made unclear to the heroes.

So I ask again; who thought this was safe thing to do now? What provisions have been made to accommodate the rocks? They blocked the well, remember, and destroyed the fields; how are the people getting food and water?

And most importantly why wasn’t the audience informed beforehand? When you change up the status quo in a story you need to provide just cause to the viewers. I legit thought I had accidently skipped an episode when I first watched because this plot point was not set up properly.

Why Were They Ever Left Alone to Begin With?

In a story where neglect is a central theme and motivating factor for all the main characters, it is super tone deaf to have those same characters perpetuating neglect themselves. The decision to live on their own should not be left up to Angry and Red because they are children. Children are not mature enough to provide for themselves neither emotionally nor physically and when placed in situations where they have to do so it psychologically damages them. Which the series already showcased with Varian so why is this suddenly deemed ok?

This Completely Undermines the Past Two Seasons

The entire conflict of the past two seasons was the rocks forcing people out of their homes. Eugene was made an orphan from them, Varian lost his entire support group because them, they drove out the Saporians from their encampment which prompted them to invade Corona, and Rapunzel and company spent an entire year on the road trying to find a way to stop them from spreading supposedly.

All of that has now been flushed down the drain with this decision. And its super insulting to watch because it’s the writers telling us that we’ve wasted our time caring about this plot for two years. You don’t resolve major conflicts off screen and without explanation; it’s lazy!

Also Where Is Varian and Quirin During All This?

This is not only their home and legal charge, but it’s also the ending to their ongoing story, and they’re not even here in a silent cameo.

Wouldn’t Quirin be overseeing the rebuilding of his town? Wouldn’t Varian be using his skills to find workable engineering solutions for them, fulling his season one goal of saving his home and making his village better with his inventions? Also wouldn’t Edmund want to catch up with his brother and help out now that he’s here?

In fact not a single person who actually lives in Old Corona is to be found in these opening shots.

Oh, But We Do Get Earl

Earl might be from Old Corona, or he might not be. We’ve literally never seen him before. The artists had to create a brand new character model for this character, the writers had to write new lines for him, and the casting director had to hire an actor and have him record these lines for only less than a minute of screen time, never to be seen again. Even though they legit had shepherd models already to go from season one that they could have used. It’s a waste of resources and a prime example of the mismanagement going on in this show.

It’s Too Late In the Series to Waste Time On a New One Off Villain

Speaking of a waste, Creighton might have more story reasons to appear in this episode than Earl does but her inclusion is still a poor decision. The show already has an overabundance of villains, so many in fact that they shipped the bulk of them off in season two, and this is the final season; the season where we should be wrapping up plots and minor characters stories not kicking off new ones.

Taken on her own Creighton isn’t a bad character presa, she works for the episode, but when we could have gotten a resolution to Caine’s, Hector’s, or the Disciples’ story arcs instead it highlights how misused the series assets are.

All This Lore Will Be Forgotten In Just a Few Episodes Time

We finally get like some magical rules and backstory only for future episodes to ignore it from here on afterwards. Red can turn into a werewolf whenever she pleases, night or day, with little explanation as for why.

Just Arrest Her Rapunzel

You’re the acting queen. You have the power and the right to arrest or even merely detain someone who is threating your citizens and refuses to leave. In fact it’s kind of your job. You don't even have to throw her in a dungeon if you thought that too cruel. Just lock her up in a nice room somewhere in the castle until you’ve sorted out the mess yourself.

The series wants to treat Rapunzel as the underdog when she isn’t, and her failure to wield her power effectively doesn’t make her look ‘nice’ it just makes her look stupid and grossly incompetent. This is a conflict that didn’t need to have happened and Rapunzel let it happen.

Oh, So Now Y'all Riot

You didn’t complain when the king orphaned children with his crack down on crime. You rolled over as he dolled out overly harsh punishments to poor people who committed minor offences. You gleefully went along with the royals as they scapegoated a child for their mistakes, even as they endangered your homes. And ya’ll sat on your asses while invaders pulled off a coup and enslaved you.

But this is what you get mad over? A rumor about a mythical creature existing that your princess has zero control over. Seriously?

Man, I hate the townspeople in this show.

Pointless Dream Sequence Is Pointless

This scene tells the audience nothing new and just wastes screen time.

This Is the Wrong Lesson to Focus On Rapunzel

We do not tell the 12 year old to unload their phycological issues onto their baby sister!

You’re telling me parents were involved in writing this show? What the hell!?

Rapunzel you are the adult here. At 20 now you should be more adept to handle listening to the deep seated emotional traumas of a little girl than a fucking 10 year old! And if you’re not, or don’t want to, then it’s your job to find another adult who will.

That’s the core problem with this entire episode. It treats Red’s and Angry’s problems as some eternal issue that they need to work out and not as the inherent failure of the adults around them that it is.

It is neither Red’s nor Angry’s decision on weather or not they get live on their own. Nor is it their responsibility to be each other’s therapist. Yes, a change in living arrangements is always stressful and for children with abandonment issues it can be hard to readjust, but that’s when you need to step it up and deal with the problem; not shove it off onto the kids themselves!

Monty Is Useless

Is this all Monty is good for? Being a red herring in ridiculously simple mysteries? Is this why we wasted a whole episode introducing him back in season one? Really?

Why Are We Still Treating Old Corona As Being Separate from Corona Itself?

Look, I get that it’s a joke, but it’s a joke that highlights how poorly thought out the worldbuilding is in the series. Is the Coronan government in charge of Old Corona or not? If so then you can just make those lease laws yourself as the acting regent Eugene. If not then Frederic shouldn’t have had any say in the matter of relocating Old Corona’s citizens nor putting a child outside of his jurisdiction under arrest.

But more importantly this is a just a repeat of that vague level of responsibility Rapunzel has for people who live off the island. She can’t order a whole village to be rebuilt while simultaneously claiming that she bares no accountability for Varian and Quirin’s problems in season one.

Replacing Guns with Crossbows Isn’t the Safe Option That the Censors Think It Is

I find it kind of amusing that censors will ban showing a 17th century blunderbuss but allow it to be replaced by a weapon that is still mass produced today and can be bought in any Walmart across the country. Like I’m a major advocate for gun regulation in real life, but even I have to find this to be a bit silly. Crossbows aren’t some fantasy weapon. People still own and use them. But it would be seriously hard to get ahold of a working antique firearm.

Seriously This Is How the Girls Have Been Living and the Adults Haven’t Done Anything About It Until Now?

I feel like I’m beating a dead horse by now, but it’s so engrained into the episode I have to keep bringing it up. The show itself is visually telling us that Red and Angry can’t keep living this way, but it never wants to call Rapunzel and the other adults out for not rescuing them from this life sooner.

So All This Tells Me Is That Rapunzel Could Have Easily Checked Up On Varian In Painter’s Block, But Didn’t.

Remember they’re right next to Old Corona; meaning that Janus Point is also right next to Old Corona. Meaning that Rapunzel could easily have checked up on Varian right after Painter’s Block and choose not to. With each passing episode Rapunzel has less and less excuse for her behavior in season one.

Yeah Remember that Plot Point That Wound Up Being Entirely Irrelevant to the Story?

In jokes don’t cover your ass when you make poor writing choices. Quite the opposite in fact as all you’ve done is remind the audience of all the various dangling plot threads that you will fail to follow up on. The disciples plot goes no where and serves no purpose, and it should not have been introduced as this big important thing if you weren’t going to do anything with it.

Nice Idea, Poor Execution

I’ve heard fans of this episode tell me that they enjoy it because of this scene with Red. If you’re a naturally introverted person or neurodivergent and have trouble communicating at times then Red’s speech here can strike a cord. Which is cool; I’ll never deny someone’s feelings and if a piece of media speaks to you on a personal level for whatever reason that is great. What I’m here to discuss though is story structure and whether or not the story’s themes are presented well in context of what it’s set up.

The conflict here does not work from a pure structural standpoint because it’s a surface level deflection of the real issues. Red’s problem isn’t that she is being ignored, it's that she’s been abandoned. Now communication issues can arise from that abandonment and feeling heard can be step forward in working those issues out, but Red’s central trauma isn’t going to be magically fixed by people ‘listening’ to her, i.e. being granted whatever she wants, but by providing her with a real home and with a real guardian to look after her.

Because what Red wants on a surface level is harmful to her, and the reasons why she wants what she wants needs to be addressed more so than then sedating her angry outbursts in the moment. This is treating the symptoms not the cause.

So What Is or Isn’t Real About the Curse?

Once again, we finally get some actual lore and rules for magic and the writers are already throwing it away during the same episode they are introduced. I now have as little context for how the wolf curse works within the Tangled world as I did before the episode started.

This Is Sweet, But Once Again Context Brings It Down.

So just to reiterate, this a surface level resolution to the conflict of the episode that doesn’t actually address anything. It might feel like an appropriate ending but only if you ignore the fact that Red and Angry are orphans who’ve been abandoned but the adults.

Angry apologizing here to Red does not solve any of their problems, especially since Angry, as a child herself, is not responsible for her sister’s behavior, feelings, nor well being. That falls to the adults and they fail to address Red’s core issues and their own failings to her in their apologies as well. Not to mention that the very next scene undermines any optional progress that could have been made here.

Listening to Someone Does Not Mean Giving Them Whatever They Want

This does not fix anything. Red and Angry are still left to live on their own without any real supervision. Giving them a big play house is not providing for them, it’s spoiling them. Would you let all the other orphans in the local orphanage roam free without an adult to take care of them? No!? Gee I wonder why? Could it be because letting a 12 and 10 year old raise themselves is a very stupid idea? One that will potentially damage them later in life assuming that they don't get themselves killed in the meantime.

Moreover this is yet another example of the series overall problem with not understanding that compromise and resolving conflicts does not mean rewarding the characters at the end with everything that they want without having them work for it. That’s not how life works and it’s not how good story telling works.

This Is Beyond Irresponsible

No! Bad Show! Bad!

You do not get to pretend that negligence is the same thing as compromise. Yes I know Eugene said to come to him when they have a problem, but as demonstrated by this very episode children do not always know when to ask for help nor can they always find it when needed, that is why parents exist!

Nor does the show get a free pass for turning it’s main characters into child abusers who neglected three minors multiple times now. Even when they themselves are victims of that same abuse!

How utterly blinkered do you have to be to not see the problem here?

It’s the Return of the Pointless Parallels

Let me count the ways for how stupid this is.

Red and Angry’s conflict has no impact on the on going narrative. Even with them now being reoccurring characters they still manage to contribute nothing to the future storylines involving Cass.

Neither Rapunzel nor Cassandra learn anything from Red and Angry’s spat; Rapunzel because she refuses to acknowledge her own flaws and Cassandra’s not even here for any of it.

The sister’s dynamic between Raps and Cass is not well established and the writers mange to piss all over it by series end because of gay baiting and poor writing. Therefore relying on lazy parallels to other siblings in the show to bolster this connection falls flat.

Red and Angry’s argument has nothing in common with Rapunzel and Cass’s current fighting. One is about abandonment issues and the other is about shallow validation. Trying to tie these two themes together actually winds up undermining both conflicts.

Red and Angry are children. Rapunzel and Cassandra are not. That very much matters.

Red and Angry didn’t drag innocent people into their petty bitch fight and endanger them because they wanted to feel special.

This Makes Zero Sense

I don’t know; she looked pretty happy during Crossing the Line.

She was also able to control the rocks just fine then, so what happened?

Not to mention soon after this Zhan Tiri is telling her she needs some sort of incantation to control the rocks, despite being able to already control the rocks....

It’s almost as if the writers are full of shit and don’t actually know what they’re doing.

So Are We Remembering the Burnt Hand or Not?

Does the hand matter or not? Is it ever a motivating factor in what Cassandra decides to do? Is her waning control over the rocks connected to her burnt hand; even though having a burnt hand is what allowed her grab the moonstone in the first place? Did the moonstone heal the hand? Does Raps singing the healing incantation later on heal it? Does Cass have a forever burnt hand?

Who the fuck knows!

Not the writers that’s for sure, cause it never comes up again.

Don’t introduce plot points and then not resolve them. That’s writing 101 guys.

Wait if she needs the incantation to control the rocks and the angry thing is a lie, then how the heck is she controlling them just now? Make up your dang mind show!

I swear I lose brain cells whenever I have to rewatch the evil Cassandra plot. It is so dumb you guys.... so, so dumb.

Conclusion

It’s not the worst thing ever but series has far better episodes on offer than this one. Even in a season as suck ass as season three.

So there’s praying that this review posts this time and if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me in my projects feel free to leave a tip on my Ko-Fi. Thank you.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #anti-Cassandra

63 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years

Text

so i did try logging in and sending an ask and i still got the cutoff captcha BUT i desperately wanted to say thanks for reblogging that post about students still needing to have breaks and bodily functions.

as someone who had undiagnosed & untreated IBS for over half of my schooling, i ended up having to purposefully not eat breakfast, not drink water, and skimp on school lunches (hiding away fruit cups, ect. that could go in my backpack to eat at home) in order to not need to go to the bathroom, which most teachers were upset with me for, and some refused to let me leave.

it’s really heartwarming to see an educator take an active interest in making sure that doesn’t happen to more kids. thank you!!!

***

I’m so glad you managed to write in! I’m disappointed to hear that the captcha is still cropping up even when someone is logged in, but hopefully that will just... go away? That seems to be the best “fix” for tumblr glitches: wait for them to decide they’re done tormenting us lol.

More importantly, I am so sorry to hear that you had to deal with that. No student should be compromising their health for their education, especially when the solution here is so simple it shouldn’t even be in question. Just let students go to the restroom! Let them eat when they’re hungry! These are the most basic needs that we need to have met as human beings! If we’re being honest here we’ve really only got three situations:

In my experience the vast majority of students want to do well, either for their own edification, interest in the topic, or a general need like striving for a good GPA, scholarship, meeting Gen Ed requirements, etc. Most students will put their best foot forward and that requires having these needs met. If they need to use the restroom or if they’re hungry, that’s a direct conflict with them concentrating on the material. Those basic needs will override whatever lecture you’re giving until they’ve been fulfilled. Yes, that also includes boredom, needing to move around, taking a break from the class, etc. I hear a lot of “But students will go to the restroom even when they don’t need to go!” and my response is... so? They clearly needed that break for other reasons. I was a top of my class student at great schools who went on to secure a PhD and you know I escaped to the bathroom for a breather, doodled in my notebooks, whispered to friends, all that jazz. Students are people. You can’t expect them to concentrate on academic subjects all day long with only lunch for a break. Letting them escape for a few minutes is beneficial for everyone, including the instructor who would like the student to return better prepared to participate.

If the student is really so disengaged that they would willingly skip large portions of the class by “going to the bathroom” then I hate to break it to people, but there’s little (in the short term) that you can do to change that. All the “You’re not allowed to leave” rules won’t stop them from sneaking out their phone. Taking their phones away won’t keep them from doodling. Yelling at them for doodling won’t stop them from just tuning you out and indulging in daydreams until the bell rings. The students who are actively looking to avoid the class will do so and this is always the result of a much larger problem that needs to be addressed: their ability to concentrate, the teacher’s instruction, the amount of sleep they’re getting, how stressed they are about something going on at home, etc. It has nothing to do with the bathroom trips themselves.

If a student wants to be there but is unintentionally missing a large portion of class due to a medical condition (like IBS) then it’s the instructor’s responsibility to provide appropriate accommodations and teach the student how to likewise accommodate themselves. If you’re providing additional one-on-one meetings, extended deadlines, and instructions to get notes from a friend for the athlete missing numerous classes for games, why can’t you do the same for the student struggling with a health condition? I’ve spoken before about the importance of attendance and I’d argue that many classes simply aren’t structured for too many absences (with that structure in turn necessary for the kind of material we’re covering) but most teachers aren’t dealing with a “You’ve missed 60% of this whole class and now we need to consider whether you’ve actually done enough work to pass” situations but rather “You missed fifteen minutes and I consider that to be the ultimate disrespect.” There’s a happy, much needed balance between the two.

I’d encourage all instructors who are anti-bathroom break, anti-eating in class, anti-standing to stretch, anti-whatever to take some time to recall how often they’ve been late to their own classes, or brought Starbucks into a lecture because they were hungry, or cancelled class because they were feeling a bit under the weather, or assigned group work so they could use the restroom or just take a moment for themselves. If we need these things, why in the world would we think our students don’t?

#teaching #school #submission

41 notes · View notes

foxtophat · 3 years

Link

hello hello hello

i got thrown off my groove for a month there doing irl shit but i finally sat down and posted this piece of mercy fic that i’ve been sitting on for like a month. it’s all about john and kim hanging out and bonding so that’s fun!!!

i have a couple of ideas for stories but i’m not QUITE SURE how many of them are going to actually get posted. i might do like a yearly synopsis and put it in the series, writing out what happens between stories and stuff so when i reference shit it isn’t out of the blue, BUT ALSO i am lazy and it’s a miracle mercyverse has gotten this much from me, so lets not try to rock the boat huh???

anyway this is a story about john and kim falling into a cave. it’s like a bottle episode except the bottle is like a large intestine. i hope you like it!!! if you do, consider reblogging this post, or sharing the link, or kudosing or commenting or liking or subscribing or SMASHING THAT BELL

as usual, the story is under the cut for those of you who want to stay on tumblr for some godforsaken reason

Kim had thought that she was doing Nick and John a favor when she first offered to go cache-hunting with them. After all, Grace and Carmina had their hands full working on the yard's shooting range, and there hadn't been anything better to do than dig a couple of holes out in the woods. She'd figured, why not? An extra set of hands could speed things up, and she could keep them focused on digging instead of bickering.

Of course, now that she's out here with them, she regrets ever having offered. As it turns out, their method of cache-hunting involves incessantly goading one another into a fight, trading places between aggressive pessimism and irritatingly fake optimism whenever it might serve to piss the other off more. She's given up on trying to stop it; after all, it's not too much worse than what they say while mending fences and hauling scrap. It's just that the distance between them means that they're arguing at a headache-inducing level.

At the very least, Kim had hoped for some kind of method they could fall back on, but at three hours in, they've all but given up. She supposes the first two caches had been pretty easy to find, being in areas where the terrain hasn't changed much — but this neck of the woods has definitely seen some shifting. Between the rock slides and massive knots of collapsed trees, the steep hillside looks more like a beaver dam than the picturesque hiking trail it probably used to be.

"I'm starting to think that Jacob was full of shit," Nick says, as if he hasn't been reiterating the sentiment for the last thirty minutes. "There's no way we're gonna find anything out here."

Nick might be right, but Kim isn't about to gang up on John right now. She's been mostly staying out of it as the two of them argue about Jacob's map coordinates; why get involved now?

She ignores them and instead picks her way up the hillside towards one of the many uprooted trees nearby. Just like the last dozen trees she's checked, this one doesn't hold a barrel in its roots, nor do any of them have any damn sign indicating where they should be looking. Whatever marker Jacob might've left, paranoid bastard that he was, it's definitely been destroyed by the apocalypse.

"I told you that this wasn't going to be easy," John says. "There's half a mile of trail to search, and there's only three of us. This isn't some pasture outside town —"

"When I asked you if we should bring Grace and Carmina along, you said they would just get in the way! Now here you are, telling me we need more people!"

"If they were here, who do you think Grace would blame if Carmina got a goddamn splinter or scraped her knee? How do you still not get that she is actively looking for a reason to shoot me?"

"At this point, I'm looking for a reason, so I don't know what you're expecting!"

Kim has to admit, they're both making pretty good points. She just wishes they wouldn't make it sound like the start of a fistfight.

John's sigh is especially theatrical, and Kim hears the leaves crunch underfoot as he begins to stalk up the hill after her. He's probably going to try passing her, just to get space from Nick, but he really shouldn't bother. They should at least stop for something to eat and some water, and then they can figure out whether or not expanding the search zone is a good idea. They should probably reconsider their current "poke around and hope" method, too.

Setting her sights on a stout, dead tree with its roots partially torn up, Kim decides to make that the last straw. If she's got any luck at all, the cache will be tangled up in the tree's roots, and she'll be able to gloat about finding it for the rest of forever.

"Don't get too excited," John says, catching up to her as he runs away from Nick.

"Too late for that," Kim teases. "My hopes are at an all-time high. I'm about to be crushed by the disappointment."

"Fantastic," John grunts, rolling his eyes.

He lets her take the first approach on the tree, which juts awkwardly out of the ground at an acute angle. Its scraggly branches are covered in dry needles, and the partially exposed root system seems to have rotted from rain. There are no other trees for a good couple of yards in any direction, so this tree must've gotten the brunt of the worst nuclear weather.

"We should take a break," Nick shouts from halfway down the hill. "I need a goddamn drink!"

"I told him this would be a waste of time," John grumbles. "We could have taken any other location, even the one at the goddamn compound, and had better luck than out here."

"Well, we're here now," Kim replies. "Come on, maybe the cache is tangled up in the roots or something."

John reluctantly follows Kim as she tests the spongier, damp soil around the rotting tree's base. It's clear he's already given up, but that only makes Kim more determined to find something worth the trip out here — at the very least, so that she can rub it in John's pessimistic face. He can't be a sour bastard forever.

No barrel in the root system, of course. All Kim finds is molding wood and the flash of exposed rock. It's just muddy enough that Kim's going to have to scrub her boots when they get back. From here, she can see the slope of the hillside, and the trees that slump with their tops pointed in her direction. It's like they're telling her, go back!

"Please talk Nick into giving this up," John insists, lingering right behind her and scowling at the roots that have betrayed both of them.

"I mean, we've only been out here for two hours. There's plenty of time to find something." Kim crouches down to check the rocky substrate for anything interesting. "Look on the bright side, at least we don't have to dig."

"I think you two are blinded by that bright side of yours." John sighs, leaning against the tree and glaring down in Nick's direction. "You know that the interstate is only a half-day hike from here, right? This is the exact sort of place Jacob would've stashed passports, money — bug-out kits to abandon the county, that kind of thing. It's not like he buried more coffee and rice out here."

"So is that your new theory? Jacob was planning escape routes for you guys?"

John frowns. "It's one of them."

Kim stands and comes around to join him by the trunk. She debates on invoking Jacob's memory any more than she already has; he seems to have a habit of upsetting John even from the grave. She gives the tree trunk a little kick as she considers pressing him, knocking some mud from her boot tread.

Her curiosity takes a backseat as the world lurches uncomfortably beneath them. She catches herself against the trunk and looks towards Nick, who's picking his way up towards them. Only now does she notice that the trees in this direction also lean inwards, towards the lone tree they're currently beside.

John catches on at the same time, hissing under his breath before hollering a warning. "It's a goddamn sinkhole, Nick, watch out!"

The inconvenience turns into real fear as Kim considers the terrain. With all the caves littering the mountains around here, there's no telling how deep the void beneath their feet might be — five feet, twenty? Or, God help them, more?

Kim struggles not to panic as Nick makes no effort to hide his own. "Come on, you guys," Nick calls from between two jutting evergreens, "Just cut across before the whole damn thing gives out!"

There's not a second to spare, but even as Kim starts to move she knows it's too late. She gets one last look at Nick's horrified expression before she, John, and the dead tree crash down into the empty space below.

Kim lands hard on her side, her arm taking the brunt of the blow and blossoming in radiant, white-hot pain. The world around her, suddenly dark and unfamiliar, tunnels alarmingly out of her vision, her blood rushing into her ears until she can only vaguely hear her own pained crying. Trying to move only causes daggers of pain to shoot right up her arm and into her brain, but she only finds that out as she rolls off of her definitely broken arm. At least, Kim's pretty sure it's broken. She's terrified of looking over and seeing her bone poking out, or something even worse — she knows that she won't be able to stand it, that she'll pass out, and she can't do that down here in this goddamn cavern!

Vague, warped voices vibrate through her as John appears abruptly by her side. The left side of his face is covered in a smear of blood from a deep wound scored over his brow. His mouth moves like he's trying to speak to her. God, her fucking arm!

"Take a deep breath," John commands once again, and this time Kim hears him and abides. The pain doesn't subside, but at least the panic that comes with it is softened as she struggles to calm down. As she does, the background noises begin to come into focus; the crumbling rubble settling, the sharp, birdless silence of the air, and most importantly, Nick hysterically shouting her name from above.

John puts a hand on the shoulder not currently delivering mountains of pain. "Another one," he says, and Kim obeys. It's while she's trying to catch her breath that John steps away, cupping his hands to his mouth and shouting up, "Kim's broken her arm!"

"God damn it, what happened — never mind, just —! Stay put! I'll go get help!" Nick's voice cracks as he realizes aloud, "Shit, there's nobody to get help from!"

Kim sucks in a deep breath. There's no way that John is going to be able to handle Nick's mounting panic by himself, and so she steels herself and tries to steady her voice. "It's gonna be okay!" she shouts. "I'm fine!"

"Bullshit you're fine, that looks like a two-story drop from here!"

John swears under his breath. "I don't have time for this."

"He's going to try and jump down if we don't talk him out of it," Kim hisses, closing her eyes as a wave of painful pins and needles washes up her arm. She keeps accidentally moving it, and the feeling of the bone scraping is enough to make her want to vomit.

John clearly decides she's right, changing tactics as Kim desperately tries not to start sobbing again. "It isn't bad, Nick!" he shouts, "But I need rope if I'm going to splint it! Get the cord from the glove box!"

Nick is quiet for a moment. "Y-Yeah," he calls down shakily, "I... I guess you got plenty to work with — hold on!"

Kim lets out a breath she hadn't meant to hold, then bites back the scream that threatens to rip from her throat. "Please tell me you can do this," she moans as John crouches down beside her broken arm. "I can't look — is there bone?"

"There's no bone," John replies. His voice is tight and unhappy, but at least he isn't lacking in confidence when he tells her, "I know what I'm doing. Try to stay conscious, and don't move. The last thing I need is to be stuck alone with Nick."

"Excuse him for worrying," she groans, staring up at the sky through the fifteen-foot-wide hole above her. She counts down the seconds until Nick gets back, if only to focus on something other than the pain.

John leaves her to it, making his way over to the tree that's joined them here in the cavern. There isn't much else down here besides them and the vegetation that came down with them; the sinkhole must have joined with a cavern somewhere along the way. The rock here probably hasn't seen daylight before — when she glances around, she spots a dark crack in the wall that implies there might be more, unlit caves to explore beyond.

Boy, she really does not want to go into that creepy tunnel, and she especially doesn't want to do it with a broken arm. Thankfully, Nick returns before that worry turns to panic.

"Everything okay? Actually, never mind — look, I got the rope, and the first-aid kit!"

Anything Nick decides to throw down is going to stay down here, and so Kim quickly stops him. "You keep that, Nick! If you get hurt up there, you'll need it!"

"We need it more," John points out, returning to her with a few branches that he clearly intends to use as a splint. He's not wrong about the medkit; the cut over his eye is a nasty one, and Kim could use all of those expired painkillers about now. Not to mention, there might be more injuries they've missed.

Still. "I'm not leaving Nick without supplies," she says.

John doesn't reply, but his scowl speaks volumes.

After a minute or so, Nick is ready to throw the cord down. They coordinate the hand-off just fine without her, which is great, because Kim needs to reserve all of her strength for what's to come.

Nick's bundled a few of the medical supplies into his worn-out flannel, along with the crank flashlight and one of the ultra-dry military rations, all tied off with the paracord. Kim is both touched at the thought and horrified at the idea that they might be here long enough to get hungry.

"This is good, Nick," John calls. "We're in a cave — there's got to be another way out nearby!"

"I'll go look for a way in!"

"No," Kim shouts, her voice cracking, "You might get hurt, Nick!"

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do, Kim! I'm not gonna leave you down there!"

Kim has never in her life imagined that she would say her next words, but that doesn't mean she doesn't mean it. "I'm going to be okay! John's down here with me, I'll be fine!"

John doesn't seem to have expected her to say that, either, boggling at her with open confusion. But... well, come on! If John can trust her enough to gun down Peggies trying to kidnap him, then she can at least trust him to help her limp out of one of Hope County's many caves. Sure, it's not an ideal situation by any means, but Kim's just happy not to be stuck looking for a way out by herself.

"Are you sure you can even walk?" Nick calls uneasily.

"I can handle it, Nick," John replies for her. "We'll look for a way out — if we don't find anything in an hour, we'll come back here and try something else!"

"What the hell do you want me to do!"

John pauses long enough to look at Kim, but since he seems to have more ideas than she does, she defers to his judgment. "Circle west around the hill and look for any entrances to call from! There's going to be a cave opening somewhere nearby!"

"I don't like any of this, Kim!"

John pinches the bridge of his nose, leaving Kim to answer, "It's the only plan we've got!"

The silence from above stretches out. "We don't have time for this," John mutters, abandoning his attempts to reassure Nick. "There's no telling where a way out might be, and I'm not wasting more time because Nick can't trust me."

"It's not about trust," Kim snipes in return. "He's trying not to panic."

John only grunts in return, settling on his knees next to her as he prepares to do the hard part for her. That leaves it up to Kim to encourage Nick to get a move on; she really doesn't want him sticking around for the painful part. "Nick, be careful, I don't want you to fall in another sinkhole! We'll be okay!"

Nick is frustratingly silent for another moment, but eventually, he relents. "Okay, fine! Remember to mark your path! And don't trust any ropes or ladders you see! And stay outta any water you find, you don't know how deep it is!"

"Jesus Christ," John mutters.

"Oh, shut up," Kim tells him, lifting her strained voice to call back. "Alright, Nick! We'll be careful! We'll see you soon!"

Kim makes John wait another minute after Nick leaves before she lets him at her arm. Despite his sour expression, John manages to be nothing more than stern, and surprisingly gentle. "Careful," he tells her, as if she needs a warning as he adjusts her broken arm. She's unable to decide if the burning sensation or the stabbing sensation is worse, but they're both vying for the spot as John examines the fracture. God, she hopes he knows what he's doing. She hopes it heals clean. She doesn't know what she'll do if she loses the thing.

John jostles her a little too abruptly, and a gasp of pain tears her from her downward spiral of worst possible outcomes. If John notices, he doesn't comment.

"It's not so bad," he says, although Kim's still not sure if she trusts his judgment on the matter. "It seems like a single fracture. I'll splint it, and... Well, there's somebody in town with medical experience, isn't there?"

"I don't know," Kim gasps, head reeling, "Maybe?"

John sighs. "Well, at least you'll survive."

"You better hope so," Kim jokes, or tries to anyway.

John rolls his eyes, but thankfully he's not in a vindictive mood as he prepares to set her arm. "You'll want to scream," he tells her. "Try breathing through your nose instead."

He sure isn't wrong. Kim can't think straight for a minute after he's finished, her face wet as the pain forces her to tears, but John is utterly detached and methodical as he binds her arm to one of the branches. It's reassuring at first, but Kim can't help but wonder just how many people suffered broken bones and serious trauma at his hands, only to see the same dispassionate bedside manner afterward? God, assuming they even survived what he put them through.

"Catch your breath," John tells her once he's done, standing and turning back to further investigate the tree. "The cave systems go on for miles down here, but there are dozens of openings in the hills. As long as we stick to the larger tunnels, we should be able to find one of them."

Kim watches him pick through the tree, sizing out larger branches and dismissing them one by one.

"I'm surprised you're not more freaked out," she says as he picks out a four-foot branch. "You know, being underground and everything."

John furiously breaks the branch from the trunk, then roughly cleans it of dead sprigs and foliage. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Sorry, I just meant —"

"I know what you meant," he says. "It's fine. I'm not... Like I said, these tunnels are hardly inescapable." He strikes the branch against the ground and seems satisfied by the sound. "I spent a lot of time studying the cave systems out here. We considered using them for passage between the gates, but that plan never went anywhere. It left me with enough useless knowledge that I'm not prone to panic down here."

"Useless until now," Kim points out. "Now help me up and let's get the hell out of here."

John helps her to her feet with her good arm, careful not to jostle the splint as she tests her balance. The world heaves for an uncomfortable second or two before righting itself, although it's mostly shock and adrenaline keeping her moving. She's not sure how long that's going to last, but she sure hopes it's long enough to reunite with Nick.

"I should probably lead," John says, looking unhappy about her tentatively upright position.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm in the position to trail-blaze."

"You're barely in the position to walk," he replies. Casting one last look around the sunlit cavern, John turns towards the dark crack in the wall that leads further into the system. "Try not to pass out."

"No promises," she says, staggering her way to their only exit.

She can feel the cool, musty air from here, oddly relieving against her sweaty face. She wishes she hadn't watched The Descent so many times before the apocalypse, because that is really coloring her perception of this situation. Of course, they're more likely to run into a wolverine or bear den than they are to be hunted by a pack of cave-dwelling mutants, but that doesn't stop her from considering it.

John starts forward. Kim, anxious and trembling in pain, tries to joke. "Just avoid stepping on any weird symbols carved into the ground, okay?"

"Christ," John groans, the same way he does every time somebody tries to rope him in with a pop-culture reference. He winds the flashlight up and the beam of light cuts a sharp swath across the dark tunnel "Will you two please let that Hollywood bullshit die already?"

"Oh, relax," she replies. "Tropes are older than L.A. and you know it. They aren't going to disappear just because civilization got nuked."

"One can dream," John snipes dryly in return.

Of course, even with the attitude, John keeps close to Kim, sticking to her uninjured side. Kim imagines her slow pace must be irritating the crap out of him, but he impressively manages not to sigh or stomp like a passive-aggressive toddler. He's been getting a lot better about letting his exasperation get to him, although she bets it's got a lot to do with exhaustion and survival instinct right now.

The silence stretches for a time between them. Kim imagines John is lost in his thoughts, but she's been hyper-aware of every distant sound of rubble shifting or oddly-shaped rock formations that are easy to mistake for humanoid shapes in the dark. The tunnel is only about eight feet across and somewhat taller than that, but that's plenty of room for Kim's imagination to play tricks on her.

"I always thought your anti-Hollywood thing was some kind of shtick," she admits. "Maybe you got scorned on a screenplay or something, I dunno. But you really believe that all of the entertainment industry deserved to get firebombed out of existence?"

"It deserved a reckoning," John replies.

"You mean something like nuclear annihilation?"

John's frown deepens. "Maybe," he says stiffly.

Normally, Kim would try to dig into that more, but she's not in a position to make much sense of it right now. Honestly, the conversation is irrelevant — she just needs something to keep her from fantasizing about monsters in the dark. Or, you know, passing out. Whichever would be worse.

"So I guess you don't have a desert island five, then."

John huffs loudly at that. "I wouldn't be able to remember it."

That just tells Kim that he does have one. She bets American Psycho or Fight Club was on it. Maybe Fear and Loathing?

"Okay, well... say you had to pick a movie to watch as soon as we got home. What would it be?"

Even without looking, Kim knows he's rolling his eyes. "Seriously? Is this really the time?"

"Humor me."

He groans in annoyance, but Kim doesn't miss the short stretch of silence that follows as he thinks it over.

"I don't know," he finally grumbles.

"Come on, you've got to have something."

"I only ever saw a handful of movies growing up, and I lost interest in the medium in college."

"God, you must have been a pretentious bastard."

Despite himself, John chuckles at the jab. "Oh, you have no idea," he replies.

The conversation dies, just like John had probably hoped it would. Kim tries to find something else to distract her, but there's really not much to look at. They've only found one offshoot that John had been able to fit in, but it had ended only a few yards in. They've been exploring for maybe fifteen minutes, though; there's still time for a miracle. Until then, she's got moss to look at, and the distant trickle of water from somewhere far away. With the way the land's shifted, there may be a new river forming somewhere up on the surface. In a few decades, it could swallow these caverns entirely.

"How does your arm feel?" John asks, his voice bouncing off the walls and breaking the silence.

"Not... great," she admits, still trying not to focus on the numb agony of her arm. "I wouldn't mind lying down and sleeping for a few weeks right about now, but I think I can keep it together until we find a way out."

She hopes, anyway.

"Good." John takes a moment to crank the flashlight before it can go out, then picks up the conversation as though Kim weren't even there. "There's nobody in town that I know of that has serious medical experience. With the gates destroyed, there's no telling where the experts we'd vetted for the Project wound up. Dead, probably. Or worse, still involved with Joseph. Hell, even a vet would be better than nothing."

He's definitely more anxious than he wants to let on. Kim doesn't believe for a second that being in this endless, dark tunnel is any better than being trapped in a bunker, save for maybe the space. At least in a bunker, you know which way is out, and you know what's going to kill you.

Now Kim is the one who starts to ramble. "I mean, there's got to be an eagle scout out there somewhere. And there were a couple of doctors still working when I had Carmina — one of them might've survived, right? Somebody out there will know enough to check your handiwork. For the record, though, I think you did a pretty good job for a guy stuck in a pit."

John shakes his head. "I've set plenty of broken limbs." There's a weird sort of challenge in his voice as he says, "Of course, I was the one who broke most of them."

"And I think you feel pretty shitty about it, so I don't know why you sound so smug."

"I'm just reminding you of who you're trying to compliment."

Kim rolls her eyes, her exasperation carrying over in her voice. "I know exactly who you are, John. Quit trying to rile me up like you do with Nick, it isn't going to work."

He huffs. "Sure," he says, then promptly shuts up. Of course he does. No wonder he only ever wants to talk to Nick — it's like he doesn't know how to hold a conversation without trying to start a fight.

Well, Kim needs something to distract her, so she'll carry on with it herself. "I've sprained my ankle a couple of times, but the only time I've ever broken a bone was in soccer camp when I was... thirteen, I think? It was my big toe, and the humiliation was way worse than the pain."

"I can't imagine," John drawls, distinctly unenthusiastic.

Kim opens her mouth to ask the obvious question, then catches herself. Asking about John's past is essentially opening Pandora's box; every time Kim has gone digging, she comes away with something new she wishes she could forget about. The breadcrumbs of information he's given her over the past year or so have honestly kept her up some nights. She probably doesn't want to know anything about the number of broken bones John's had. She definitely doesn't want to know how.

John looks over at her, daring her to ask. It's only when Kim manages to contain her curiosity that he parts with a few terse details. "The first time was when I was eleven. It was a powerful learning experience. One I... try not to revisit."

"Sure," she says. It sounds reasonable enough, anyway.

The flashlight's beam cuts across the wall further ahead, revealing the first major fork that they've come across. They're forced to take an impromptu break as John tries to determine their best way forward. John scowls at the darkness in either direction, but it doesn't seem to help make a decision. Meanwhile, Kim takes the opportunity to rest against the cold stone, swallowing down the nausea that's starting to build. It's a miracle that she's made it this far without fainting, but she doesn't think John's in the mood to hear that.

Frowning, John turns the flashlight back the way they came, sweeping the light down the forking path. "Strange," he mutters.

"What?"

"It's nothing," he says, sweeping the light down the way they came. "Except... see this?"

He steps closer to highlight a uniformly rectangular notch in the wall, just about hip-level. Moving the light reveals more, equally spaced notches, continuing along the wall of the newest fork in their road.

"There were guide ropes installed at one point or another. It doesn't seem to be an active mine, though — it must've been for dumb tourists, just in case of lawsuits."

"I hate to tell you, John, but right now, we're the dumb tourists."

"Unfortunately so. I guess that means we should take the left."

It's smaller, and it looks just as untouched as the rest of the cave has so far, but John's made a compelling point about the seemingly man-made notches.

"You're the expert," Kim says, "I'll take your word for it."

"Alright," he says, not as enthusiastic as Kim would have hoped for. He eyes her somewhat critically, then asks, "How are you doing?"

It's probably the pain making her delirious, but she's surprised at John's concern for her wellbeing. She really shouldn't be. Of course he cares; even if he weren't actively trying to be less awful, he's too smart to leave Kim down here and risk Nick finding out. But still. She's pain-addled enough to be touched by the sentiment.

That doesn't mean she's in the mood to sugarcoat the truth. "I'm surprised I'm still standing," she says. "Let's just hope we find Nick before I pass out."

"I'm sure he'd enjoy seeing me carrying your limp body out of the abandoned mine."

Kim laughs, regretting it as it sends an ache jolting through her body. "Oh, I bet. Just don't be surprised if I tap out at some point."

"You're stronger than that," John remarks. "Follow me."

Now, following John Seed through a dark cave tunnel with a broken arm seems like it would be a bad time. If this were ten, eleven years ago, Kim's sure she would be hunting for a weapon or looking for her own escape route. That is, of course, assuming he hadn't left her to die down here. No doubt that her survival would've banked on how much he would have needed her.

She's glad that's not the case now. John is a reliable navigator, slow-going and cautious as he leads the way, testing suspect rock formations and ducking into narrow crags that don't go anywhere. Honestly, he's probably being more cautious than they need to be. It's already been a half-hour or so, and they're going to need to turn back before much longer.

John has other concerns to bother him, though. "I wonder what happened to the anchors," he says at one point. "You'd think we would have found one by now."

"Maybe they took the rope down before the Collapse," Kim points out. "Lots of tourist traps weren't exactly up to code. Earl probably got here way before we did, back when he was trying to crack down on these kinds of things."

John frowns thoughtfully. "Maybe."

"It's not like people are down here renovating for the next season."

"We don't know that," he points out grimly. "Survivors might've hidden from the radiation down here. Or maybe some angels got lost after Faith was killed."

"Come on, John," she groans.

"Nick's always wondering where the mutants are. Maybe we'll be the ones to find them."

Kim side-eyes John just in time to catch the remnants of a smirk on his face, and she can't help but elbow him with her good arm. She tries to admonish him, telling him, "Knock it off," but she can't help laughing as she does.

"You're probably right about the code violations," John chuckles at last, lifting the light to check the ceiling ahead as it dips low enough for them to need to duck. "Not a lot of these cave systems were what I'd call safe. It's one of the reasons we decided against using them as tunnels. The work involved was too expensive, and the chance of cave-ins was too high. And, as we've found out, they weren't guaranteed to stay underground."

"So, what was going to happen instead? Were you guys going to rely on radios, or what?"

"It doesn't matter what we decided," John points out, more weary of the conversation than irritated. "The gates were barely finished before the Deputy destroyed them, and we never got to find out what might've happened."

They follow the notches through two more forks, and Kim starts to worry that they're only going deeper into the old attraction. Well, at least they're taking the easy way. With a smooth floor and a ceiling that rarely drops lower than eight feet, Kim gets the impression that they're in a manufactured mine, and not an organic one. For all they know, some crazy prepper dug this tunnel out to make a quick buck for his bunker-building hobby. Of course, if that's the case, it's a miracle that nothing's caved in yet.

They pass underneath a lower segment of the ceiling, and the tunnel abruptly opens up into a massive cavern. Defunct light rigs are scattered amongst the stalagmites, with several hanging stalactites covered in chipped fluorescent paint. The rest of the rock outcroppings are covered in lichen, which disappointingly fails to glow in the dark. As John sweeps the flashlight across the large, empty space, Kim gets a good idea of the cheap edu-tainment that was offered on short hikes through the mines. Somewhere in here, there's probably a storage closet full of Halloween decor waiting to liven up the otherwise boring cavern.

"Well, this wasn't worth the twenty dollars it cost to get in," John grouses.

"Don't forget the thirty-dollar iron-on tee-shirts they print off at home," Kim reminds him with a laugh. It's enough to make her lightheaded, and she doesn't quite regain her balance, even after she braces herself against the wall.

"We can only rest a minute," he warns her, sweeping the light in the direction they need to go. Any more huffing and puffing on his part is diminished as the light glints off the rounded edge of something metallic. When John refocuses the light on the object, neither of them really know what to say.

Lying amongst the rocks, battered and dirty, is one of the dark green bliss containers they've been looking for. Kim looks up, but the ceiling is rooted in darkness, and she can't see any sign of another cave-in or sinkhole. The idea that Jacob might've come this far himself crosses her mind, but if that were the case, why is it sitting out in the open like that?

"John, wait," Kim calls as John steps off the path. Suddenly, all her jokes about booby traps seem tasteless, especially with John charging into the unknown like he is.

Of course, this isn't Indiana Jones, and there's no pit of spikes or tripwire to trigger. John doesn't wind up with a face-full of poison darts as he picks up the dented canister; the only thing he's forced to sacrifice is a good grip on the flashlight, which shines at an awkward angle and only illuminates a useless part of the floor. His slow pace and the bad lighting leave Kim to imagine what he's found inside — remnants of supplies, or a dead animal? Indications that something chewed through the rubber sealant, maybe?

John drops the barrel between them, the clanging metal causing Kim to jump. John doesn't notice as he reorients the light, leaning over to illuminate the barrel's contents. The interior is flaked with rust, and whatever sealant had been used is all but completely worn away. The only thing left inside is an empty, smashed bottle of liquor and a few wrapped, moldy packages of cigarettes.

"I don't know if I'm disappointed or not," Kim says.

"I know I am," John replies, grimly reaching into the empty barrel to check for a false bottom. The screech of metal rises up into the cavern, bouncing off the far ceiling and turning into an ugly birdsong. Kim leans back against the wall; if she keeps looking down, she's going to end up toppling over like a broken Weeble-Wobble. John glances her way after a moment, before lifting a clump of wet paper out from the depths of the barrel.

"Of course he buried documents here," John mutters. Kim can't quite pin down whether he's upset or resigned to the bad luck at this point.

"Anything salvageable?" she asks.

"Doubtful. I'll... bring these along, I guess." He checks again, digging out what he can. Other than the loose papers, there's a water-logged manila envelope and an equally soaked box of ammunition. John tucks the box away in his front pocket, holding the papers uncomfortably in his hand. "We'll worry about what these are once we're out of here."

Despite the pain in her arm giving her full-body tremors and John's dismal mood, Kim is nearly upbeat as they exit the cavern. They're still in civilization, after all, even if it's a defunct tourist trap, and the knowledge that they're clearly on their way out is the main thing keeping her moving. If they're lucky, they aren't too far from the truck — if they're really lucky, Nick will have found the entrance before them.

They eventually find a few anchors that are still moored to the walls, a knotted bit of rope still attached, and Kim breathes a sigh of relief. The sigh quickly turns to a groan of pain as she rattles her arm, but at least it isn't enough to knock her off her feet.

John hesitates in front of her, slowing just enough so that he can offer his arm to her. "We can't stop now," he tells her.

"I know," she pants, wiping sweat from her forehead that she hadn't realized was gathering. "Okay. We're nearly there."

She gives up on pretending entirely, leaning heavily against John as they continue forward. Lying down and resting for, oh, a hundred years or so sounds great right now, but first, she needs to make sure Nick hasn't had a heart attack waiting for them. He's probably convinced himself that they've gotten killed somehow, and John isn't going to be able to talk him down on his own.

They approach what will hopefully be the last fork in the tunnel, only to find that both directions have anchors. The newest offshoot seems to curve pretty severely downwards, though; it's clear even as they stop that they should stick to the path they've been on.

"I don't like this," John says, looking first behind them and then ahead, down the new path.

"Fine," Kim groans, "You can choose the next tourist trap we get stuck in."

"I'm serious, Kim." John turns the flashlight down the new path. The air coming from that direction is thick and stagnate — Kim's imagination unhelpfully supplies a few images of killer clowns and deformed mutants to lurk down in the dark that way. God, why did she have to like horror movies so much? Why couldn't she have enjoyed normal, safe entertainment that wouldn't have filled her imagination with monsters and a deep-rooted fear of the unexplored dark?

It certainly doesn't help as John says, "I keep getting the feeling that we're being watched."

"Okay, that's it," Kim snaps, desperately trying to bury the surge of fear the suggestion fills her with. "I'm done being creeped out."

"I'm not trying to scare you —"

"Well, you're naturally gifted, okay? Look, let's just — we know that's the way out," she says, nodding towards the safer route. "Let's just go that way. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"Agreed," John grunts.

John adopts a brisk walk that Kim has some trouble keeping up with, but she's not interested in slowing down for anything. She feels vindicated by their choice of exit as they pass a faded safety sign lying on the ground, as well as the decidedly fresher air coming in from what Kim expects to be the exit. There are a few moments where John has to resist breaking out into a jog; Kim can't exactly blame him, but his jitters are amping up her own anxiety, and now she's trying desperately to listen for chasing footsteps behind them. It's hard to hear much of anything over the blood pounding in her ears.

It's a massive relief when John finally slows down. "It must have been an animal," he says at last, casting one last look behind them. "God, I fucking hate being underground."

"Well, let's hope we aren't leading the mutants to the surface world," Kim jokes. It probably would land better if she didn't sound completely wiped.

John frowns at her, but the dark makes it hard to pin down his expression. "We're almost there," he says, which sounds alarming like a reassurance.

Her spirits lift as they pass an overturned rail barricade, but the wind is immediately taken out of her sails as they find the path blocked by a chained and padlocked gate. The thick gauge chain-link fence has been welded to brackets on the wall; the bottom has been bent outwards, likely from some angry animal forcing its way through. Unfortunately, it's too small for either of them to get through.

"For fuck's sake," John hisses between gritted teeth.

They're not going anywhere, and Kim's nausea forces her to find something more solid than John for support. She manages to stagger to the nearest wall before falling against it, but it's enough to make her regret moving at all.

At least she manages a weak thumbs up when John anxiously asks, "Are you alright?"

"Just — giving you room to work," she gurgles, staggering a few feet back down the path before throwing up.

John swears under his breath as Kim tries to coax her headache back to something more manageable. She can hear him tearing at the gate behind her; if she weren't feeling so miserable, she'd probably be flipping out on it, too. As it is, she takes her sweet time to turn around and start back for the fence, watching as John tries to widen the gap left behind by some tenacious wolverine. It's going to wreck her arm to try and weasel through the hole, but Kim is willing to try anything at this point.

"How far are we from the truck?" Kim rasps. "Maybe Nick can hear us?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" John snaps, well past the end of his rope. Kim has to admit, she's surprised he made it this far. "God damn it, I don't know where we are any better than you!"

"Okay, point taken," Kim says — after all, she's in no position to argue with him. As it is, it's taking most of her focus to keep from sinking to the ground. As soon as she's sitting, she's going to pass out, and she's not in any position to be doing that yet.

Thankfully, Nick's voice reaches them before she can give up. A tidal wave of relief floods Kim at the sound of him calling her name; she staggers forward, gripping the chain-link with her good arm.

"Nick!" she shouts. The sound of her own voice bouncing off the walls only amplifies her pounding headache, but it doesn't stop her from shouting his name a few more times in desperation.

John grabs her good shoulder. "Careful," he says, "Take it easy."

"You take it easy," Kim snaps as Nick's voice bounces off the far-away cave entrance. Trying to glare at John is a mistake, as vertigo nearly sends her to the floor. The only thing that keeps her upright is John's grip on her arm, easing her back until she finds the wall for support.

"Let me handle it," he says.

Kim has no choice but to follow his orders, reeling against the wall as he picks up the impromptu game of Marco Polo. She's not sure how much time passes between her slow, long blinks, but all that matters is the moment that she sees Nick appear with the lantern held high. It's enough to bring her to tears — well, that and the dizzying pain — and from Nick's tearful shout, it's having the same effect on him.

"Oh, thank Christ," he gasps as he reaches the gate, rattling it with his free hand as if he could just pry it back. "Kim, you're alive! Are you okay?" He turns the full force of his relief on John, concern furrowing his brow. "Jesus, John, are you okay? We needa get that cut looked at."

"It's fine," John says. "You didn't see any keys anywhere, did you?"

"Let me go check the ticket booth," Nick replies. "Don't worry, you guys — I'm not about to let a goddamn padlock stop me."

Nick jogs back down the tunnel and Kim finally sags, sliding to the ground with a tired groan.

"Okay, John," she sighs, "Mission accomplished. Wake me up when we get home."

"Kim, hold on," John replies, but frankly there's no stopping her now. This was as far as she'd hoped to get on her own two feet, and honestly, she's surprised that she made it that far.

She does rouse briefly as Nick begins wailing on the padlock with a steel pipe, but that's something the boys can handle without her. Here and there, she registers hands on her, and dappled light flashes over her face as they finally escape the caves. The fresh air brings her back long enough to help Nick get her settled in the truck, but she's already dozing off by the time John and Nick start arguing again. The rest of the trip, for better or worse, is completely lost on her.

————

When Kim finally comes to, she's immediately met by the familiar sight of her room at home. She can't tell what time it is, only that it's late enough for the lamp to be lit. Judging by the voices downstairs, everyone is still awake — and going by the sling and bandages, they've had some company since she was last conscious. She allows herself to imagine the whole thing was all a horrible nightmare, just for a second, but the throbbing in her arm is already reminding her of the unfortunate truth. At least she can check "escape mutants in a tunnel" off of her bucket list.

She doesn't have long to focus on the slowly returning pain; it's not even a minute later that she hears boots on the stairs, and Nick pokes his head in not long after.

"Hey," is about all she can muster up before she has to clear her throat, but it's enough.

"Christ, Kim!" he exclaims, throwing open the door as he rushes to her side. The worry breaks on his face as he crouches beside her, careful not to jostle her broken arm. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Uh... not awesome," she admits, shifting in an attempt to sit up. Nick hurries to help her, and she can't help but smile at him as he piles the pillows behind her. "Better now, though."

"That's what I'm here for," Nick laughs, "That and making everybody else uncomfortable. They kept tellin' me not to worry, but you know how hard that is."

"They?"

"Well, John mostly, until Jerome and Grace showed up. Then I had to keep it together for Carmina, so that helped. Uh. How much do you remember about gettin' back here?"

"Not much," Kim says. Now that she's more conscious, she's able to discern the late evening light for what it is; it's been hours since she was last aware of where she was. "I... remember getting into the truck, I think? And then... Nothing. Why? What did I miss?"

Nick shakes his head, smiling fondly at her. "Nothing much, honest. Most of the ride back was me and John arguing about what to do. He radioed Jerome for help while I got you up here and settled in, then I called up Grace so she could keep Carmina busy until Jerome showed up with some help. I guess Winona, y'know, down at the Eagle? She was getting her nursing degree, or license, or whatever, so Jerome brought her over here to help out. She said it looked like a clean enough break, and John did a good job setting it, so we just had to make sure you wouldn't be accidentally moving in your sleep." He chuckles. "You know, real exciting stuff."

"Oh, boy," Kim groans, "I bet I scared the crap out of Carmina. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Worried about you, obviously, but Grace gave her a pep talk and we kept her busy downstairs. Figured you oughta be awake before she came to see you."

"Good call." Kim briefly debates whether or not getting out of bed is worth it, but she quickly decides against it. Even if she weren't wiped out, Nick looks like he'd fall apart with worry if she tried to exert herself. "You might have to go get her, because I don't think I could move if I wanted to."

"Don't even think about it," Nick says, pointing at her as he gets back to his feet. "You're on bed rest until tomorrow at least. I'll be right back."

Kim dozes for the few minutes that stretch between Nick leaving and Carmina coming up the stairs. It's impossible to fall back asleep, but the rest is good enough on its own. She makes sure to perk up when she hears Carmina coming up the stairs, smiling wide as her daughter enters the doorway.

"Hey, honey," she says, her voice rougher than she'd expected it to be.

"Mom!" Carmina exclaims, careful to avoid jostling Kim as she climbs into the bed on her good side. "I was so worried!"

Kim folds her arm around Carmina's shoulders and gives her a squeeze. "I know, sweetheart. I didn't mean to spook you."

"What happened? Dad said you and John fell into a cave!"

"That's pretty much it," Kim laughs. "We fell through a sinkhole into an old cave system. It used to be a place people could visit, though, so it wasn't hard to find our way out."

Carmina frowns, picking at a loose thread in the comforter. "But it was probably really dark. And your arm was broken, and John busted his head open, and..."

"First of all, his head wasn't busted open," Kim says, reaching up to ruffle Carmina's hair. "He probably needed a few stitches, sure, but he knew what he was doing, and we both made it out okay. And your dad got the flashlight to us, so we had plenty of light to see by."

Obviously, Kim never wants to go back to that awful place, but she needs her daughter to learn not to panic now, in case she ever has to go into those tunnels herself. There's no summer camp to enroll her in that will teach her how to be mindful of caves, so Kim's going to have to do it herself... She just wishes she'd gotten to it before she'd had her own scary experience.

Carmina huffs, frowning briefly at the door. "You were lucky John was there," she says.

Kim bites back on her knee-jerk reaction to scoff at the idea. "You're right," she admits, a little more reluctant to do so than she really should be.

"Nobody else thinks so," Carmina grumbles. "Grace got mad dad left you two down there and then Jerome got mad at John for getting you hurt and Winona was really mad that she had to give John stitches. I wanted to say something but dad wouldn't let me."

"That's because they have good reasons not to trust him," Kim points out, although that excuse is starting to wear a little thin, even with her. "They just need time."

Carmina groans. "I guess. I'm... just really glad you're okay."

Kim squeezes Carmina's shoulder. "Me too."

Carmina sighs. "So... what was it like?" she asks, unable to resist her curiosity any longer.

That's okay by Kim — she could use the distraction. "Well... it was dark, and chilly. It was really quiet — the only thing we could hear was water dripping on the walls and our footsteps. The tunnel wasn't very interesting... but there was a big cavern in the middle where we found the cache, covered in stalactites and stalagmites. You could see where they used to have lights rigged up, and they'd painted some of the rocks to glow in the dark."

"You didn't see any animals?" Carmina frowns. "I always thought animals would hide in the caves."

Kim absolutely will not be telling her daughter about John's creepy sense of danger, thanks. "You know, we didn't. There isn't a lot of food for rabbits or cougars in there, though. I think they usually prefer little caves, not big ones."

There are plenty more questions for Carmina to ask that Kim only barely knows the answers to. Thankfully, geography and natural history are easy to teach hands-on; while she's not about to go back to the cave they just escaped, there are a couple of old attractions she remembers visiting that might do the trick. Places with good gift shops and little museums and educational plaques everywhere to help Kim explain how basic geology works.

"If you want, we can do some cave exploring of our own one day," Kim offers. "I'll need some time to get better, first. And I'll have to find the right place. But when we have some free time..."

"That sounds fun," Carmina says. "Just don't fall into another one first?"

"I'll do my best. We'll, uh, teach you what to look for so you don't make the same mistake."

They talk for a little while longer about the cave systems that litter Hope County, but it's not exactly Kim's favorite topic right now. It's a relief when Carmina declares that she needs water; even more so when she offers to bring some up to Kim. She considers asking Carmina to relay her thanks to John, but it can honestly wait until morning. Hopefully by then, she'll have adjusted to the makeshift cast, although she suspects she'll have plenty of time to get used to it. How long does it take a broken bone to heal, she wonders? Probably a few months, at least. She's really going to have to take it easy, and hope that nothing catastrophic happens while she's down one working arm.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic #mercyverse

2 notes · View notes

arlakos · 4 years

Text

Marinette’s list of Parisian Warcrimes (Or why I need to vent about all the bad stuff Marinette has done)

Yeah, I’m doing this.

People be talking on Tumblr about why Marinette is the best character in the show and talking shit about every other character, from Adrien so I think I'll do what I do best and piss off people.

You want another Adrien salt Fic about why he’s a stalker to validate your sensitivity to everything that triggers you?

You want another AU where Chloe goes full-on villain and asshole mode so that you can be just another Astruc stan?

Do you want another Lukanette fanfic because Luka is the ‘Better Adrien’ even though all he does is play a guitar?

TOO BAD! THIS TIME WE BE DOING SOME MARINETTE SALT AND WE GOING IN HARD! WE ARE GONNA BE RUNNING THIS BLUE HAIRED GIRL INTO THE GROUND THE SAME WAY THE FANDOM TREATED THE OTHER CHARACTERS!

THIS IS PAYBACK FOR ALL THE SALT FICS THAT HAVE BEEN FORCED TO SEE THAT DON’T EVEN BOTHER TO USE NATURAL LOGIC!

(And I'm gonna love every bit of it)

So without further ado, Marinette is sentenced to be salted on the following charges:

Having a planner that tracks Adrien's every location/activity so she can stalk him at all times and actively uses (Stormy Weather).

Using her powers to prevent Adrien from dancing with another person (yes, even if that person is Chloe) (Bubbler)

Stealing Adrien's phone (Copycat)

Reading other peoples letters, even if they did throw it in the garbage (Dark Cupid)

Abandoning Paris (Ladybug Origins) (Yes I know people are going to be angry at me especially for this one, but if Everyone gives shit for Chat Noir for doing the same thing in Syren, then Ladybug gets it as well. No double standards on this post)

Literally destroying Max’s hopes and dreams by beating him in a game entering a tournament just so that she could be with Adrien. I don’t care who was better in the game or won, Marinette had no prior interest in the tournament and even knew how much Max wanted to enter, yet still done it anyway the second she realized Adrien was there. Yeah, others will say its cute that she wanted to be with Adrien, but if she really wanted to spend time with him, all she had to do was, you know, ASK LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!!! (Gamer)

Ladybug not listening to advice on where the akuma is all because she didn't like Chloe. who made a small lie before to her. Yeah Ladybug, someone making a little lie to save themselves embarrassment is really valid enough of a reason for their opinion and advice to be worth nothing. And it caused another akuma, good for you. (Antibug)

Oooh, a big one...Marinette stalked Lila and Adrien pretty much all day, under the guise of ‘not liking liars’ (yeah right) and once she had a ‘valid’ excuse to pretty much ruin Lila’s chances of wooing Adrien (whether or not she had an actual chance is irrelevant) she transformed into Ladybug and ABSOLUTELY EMBARRASSED HER AND HUMILIATED HER right in front of Adrien, when she could have just pulled her aside and just told her off in private and quietly so that she wouldn’t do it again. When Adrien questions her says she did it with the excuse of ‘not liking liars’. (Volpina)

Not telling Fu who the book belonged too when questioned on where she got it. I get that this was an excuse to prolong the shows run time, but if you were going to bring this up in the show and pretend that what Marinette did wasn’t a big deal, then they shouldn’t have added it in the first place. (The Collector)

Not bothering to tell her grandmother the truth and sneaking off to hang with her friends. (Befana)

Ladybug leading on Chat Noir. If she really didn't want to go, she could have just outright said No and be done with it, instead of just a ‘maybe’. (Glaciator)

Ladybug Literally not telling Chat Noir about the Guardian or where the hell all these heroes are coming from. There was literally no excuse, Adrien didn’t need to wait ‘until he was ready’, he literally became a hero the same time as Ladybug, it wasn’t like he was ‘the new guy’ and Ladybug was ‘the more experienced one’. I can give this to Fu as well, but I still feel that Ladybug should’ve told him regardless from the get go, she trusted a man she hadn’t properly met until 1 season later more than her own partner who stuck with her since day one. (Syren)

Taking pollen away from Chloe... yeah this really doesnt count. I just simply liked Chloe’s face in Malediktator when she saw Pollen again.

Talking shit about Chloe behind her back then acting all friendly to her as Ladybug when she needed her to become Queen Bee. Not really bad, it's just incredibly rude. (Maledictator)

Again, the same shit as Stormy Weather, instead of being punished for having the planner that details every bit of Adriens day to day activities, she gets rewarded by the writers. Not so much a Marinette crime as it is and ASS-truc crime. (Troublemaker)

Snooping through Marcs Private book, annoying him when he wanted to be isolated, and just straight up not having Marc give him the script himself. She could have tried just bringing Marc to Nathaniel and showing him the script together. (Reverser).

Making a lie about organizing a party when she definitely didn’t plan one. Yes, even if she was going to do it afterwards and planned to make the pastries herself for the party. She really is a hypocrite when she comes to lying, even though that’s a personality trait the writer's press is the reason why she hates Lila. (Season 2 Finale-Catalyst and Mayura).

Sabotaging Kagami’s attempts at being with Adrien. (Animaestro)

Marinette telling her Grandpa that rice bread is better than wheat bread. Anybody who has tasted bread would say otherwise. Although to be fair I blame Tom for this and this isn’t really as bad as the others (Bakerix)

Marinette throws Chat under the bus by pretending she loves him and leaving him to face Tom when the entire thing was her fault. I know she did it to protect her identity, but it still was an ass thing to do, and Chat found Marinette in her own house, Marinette could have used any excuse, including but not limited to, baked goods. (Weredad)

Marinette... LITERALLY... TRIED TO BREAK INTO ADRIEN’S HOME... ALL BECAUSE LILA WAS THERE...if the fireman was smarter than most other characters in the show he could’ve literally called the cops on her, leading to her getting arrested and Gabriel (or even Adrien) filing a restraining order against her. That and she steals Juleka’s bike. Not cool dude. (Oni-Chan)

Marinette not making it very clear to Chloe that she can’t get the miraculous back under any circumstances due to her exposed identity, especially after Chloe claims she’ll need them again. (Miraculer)

Marinette sneaks into the boy’s party despite wanting bro time, all because she wanted another botched attempt to confess to Adrien. (Party Crasher)

THAT CREEPY SCENE WITH THE ‘ADRIEN WAX STATUE’. I dont want to talk about it. You know which one I'm talking about. If you don’t, thank god, but IF YOU THINK THAT WAS CUTE IN ANY WAY OR THAT ITS ADRIEN FAULT BECAUSE HE STOOD STILL, YOU NEED TO GET YOUR HEAD CHECKED. (god i still have nightmares) (Puppeteer 2)

Not really a crime, but talking literally all the miraculi when you only needed a few. What would happen if she screwed up and Hawkmot got all the miraculous, or lost a few for the Akuma to obtain? (Kwamibuster)

Marinette (or Lady Noire) being an absolute dick to Misterbug during the entire time they were fighting Reflekdoll, insulting Misterbug for misusing his power when she does the same thing and claiming Misterbugs usual job is ‘easy’. Yeah...no. Fuck you Lady Noire, go eat a cataclysm to the face (Reflekdoll)

Marinette sabotaging Friendship day for Kagami just because she didnt want the latter to see Adrien.. at all. (Ikari Gozen)

Claiming Adrien is a good guitarist when Luka is an actual one. Not a crime, just dumb (Desperada)

Giving a Miraculous to Adrien when she can’t even control herself around him and could be distracted (Desperada)

Being too cute in that picture Marinette and Adrien sleeping together on the train. Yes i know this isn’t a crime, i do like some stuff about her, i just think the pic is really cute. (Startrain)

(Look at it, they’re adorkable. Awww....)

(Wait, aren’t I supposed to be salty?)

NOW, for the biggest crime of them all...

Literally not confessing to Adrien even once. Aside from the fact its turned the ‘romance part’ of the show into a joke, Marinette not telling Adrien the truth already or lying about her feelings is the reason we have the ‘Marinette is just a good friend meme’. No wonder he thinks you are ‘just a friend’. THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE BEEN TELLING HIM.

My evidence? EVERY SINGLE EPISODE!!!

...

Ahhhh. Much better.

Well, now that I have successfully gotten rid of all that anger and salt and manifested it into a physical memento of my anger for this show and its main character, I’m going to relax while people get mad and triggered that I insulted the ‘Perfect Marinette’ and leave me angry messages. For all those that listened and don’t hate me or even agree with what I have said, thanks for reading my large amount of vented writing. I hope you have a pleasant day.

Let's hope for season 4 of Miraculous to be better now that Zag is back. The fandom knows we don't need another salty season.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Season 1 to 3 #ML salt #A lot of salt #Marinette salt #Probably a lot of Marinette hate #AND FOR GOOD REASON #A bit of writer salt as well #A lot of ASS-truc Salt #Miraculous Ladybug salt

179 notes · View notes

gra-sonas · 4 years

Text

Alex Manes - an essay

Alright, my inbox is bursting with asks, and I’ll get to them (tomorrow, it’s almost midnight D: ), but I’ve been thinking about this all day while trying to work (had to get up and angrily pace my flat several times), and I had to write it all down to get it off my chest. (Also, I’m sorry, but once again Tumblr won’t let me add a Read More, after two attempts at creating new posts with a Read More, I’m giving up 🙈)

As viewers, we’ve been introduced to two different versions of Alex.

Alex at 17

wears mostly black

puts on nail polish, eyeliner and jewellery, including a stud earring and a septum piercing

loves skateboarding

plays the guitar

works at the UFO Emporium

his mom, a Native American woman from a New Mexican tribe left the family when he was younger

has 3 brothers, presumably they’re all older than Alex

Alex at 27/28

a soldier, he’s been in the Air Force for a decade

a decorated purple heart airman with three deployments under his belt

an amputee, he lost part of his right leg in an attack in Iraq, sometimes uses a crutch

a codebreaker who's hacked into Russian and Chinese intelligence

a man who still dips fries into his milkshake

the nail polish, spiky hair, piercings and jewellery are gone

Alex wears fatigues occasionally, his civil clothes are mostly neutral colored shirts/jeans (until The Leather Jacket™ in 1x13)

we don’t know whether he still plays the guitar

his brothers are also all military, Flint (~2 years older than Alex) is a Special Forces Weapons Sergeant with the US Army

Quotes from/about Alex’s youth (incl. Jesse’s abuse)

1x01, Alex: "We're not kids anymore. What I want doesn't matter.“

✧→ 17 year old Alex hoped to escape his father one day, he dreamt of making music. His hopes were shattered that day in the toolshed, and Alex hasn’t allowed himself to go for what he wants since then - including Michael.

1x02, Alex: “Made me think about... I don't know, who I was when this started. Before I went to war.”

1x05, Kyle: “Do you remember that night your dad made us set up that tent to teach us extreme weather survival?” Alex: “Yeah. Your dad had driven home for the night, so mine concocted a brand-new form of kiddie torture.”

1x05, Alex: “My dad was a homophobic, abusive dick."

1x05: Alex: “The dad I got was a monster. Is a monster.” Kyle: “Because he sent you off to war?” Alex: “My father was my war. And your dad saw it, when we were kids. Do you remember the summer - that we built the tree house?” Kyle: “Yeah.” Alex: “That's the summer that my dad found out I was gay. He knew before I did. He thought he could beat it out of me. Jim tried to intervene. But you can't make someone stop hating someone. And my dad hated me.”

✧→ Alex is talking about his father/childhood matter-of-factly, but the language he’s using to describe his childhood allows a glimpse at the hell he went through: torture (through extreme survival trainings), homophobic abuse, his dad is a monster, sent him to war, for years tried beating the gay out of Alex, Jesse hates him. This is not just a homophobic remark his dad made at the dinner table, this informs us about years of violence and abuse Alex endured at the hands of his father.

1x06, Alex: “Things at my house suck.“

✧→ Many teenagers will probably say this at some point while growing up, this isn’t about Alex being upset about a curfew, or having to do his homework tho. This is as much as Alex will disclose about the ongoing abuse.

1x06: Alex: “Dad, this has nothing to do with you.“ Jesse: “Everything you do... everything. And I will not be humiliated.“

✧→ This is Alex, terrified of what his dad might do. And he knows that Jesse will do something (he’s already picked up the hammer). Alex expects violence, because that’s what his dad has done to him numerous times. 😔

1x07, Mimi: "You look like your dad today." Alex: "Oh, good. I was hoping that the rage face might skip a generation."

1x08, Alex: “I've been looking for leverage my entire life.“

✧→ “My entire life”, a clear indication that having Jesse as a dad’s never been a walk in the park, Alex just got the special ‘anti gay’ treatment as a bonus when he got older.

1x08, Alex: “When I was...- I wanted to make music. You sent me to war.“

✧→ Alex at 17 wanted to make music, and although he never says it, I think it’s implied that he never planned to join the military. Jesse didn’t give him a choice though, he made Alex enlist, probably threatening him with what he’d do to Michael if Alex didn’t do as he was told.

1x08, Alex: "Why are you trying to frame Michael? Haven't you done enough to him?"

1x08, Alex: "Do not talk to me about unprovoked violence!"

1x09, Michael: "And what do you want to say, Alex?” Alex: That I loved you. And I think that you loved me. For a long time.” Michael: “Yeah.” Alex: "But we didn't even know each other that well, did we? I mean, we just, we-we connected, - like something… -“ Michael: “Cosmic.” Alex: "Yeah, but we didn't even do that much talking."

1x10, Alex: "My dad is a bigot with no moral compass."

1x12, Flint (to Alex): "You ever get tired of being the black sheep of the family?"

1x13, Alex: "Look... I shouldn't have left you behind when I enlisted. I could... I could stand here and tell you that I didn't want to leave, but I did. After what my dad did to you, I just, I... I wanted to be the kind of person who won battles. But now I-I look in the mirror, and I-I don't even see myself sometimes. I see my father. I'm still fighting his battles. Not mine."

✧→ It’s kinda implied that Alex never wanted to enlist, but once Jesse forced him to do it, he tried to make the most of it. He wanted to be the kind of person who won battles. He was also looking for leverage, something he could use to take his dad down.

✧→ Alex at 17 wanted to get out, he wanted to make music and live life his way. Since Jesse was going to beat him for being gay anyway, he’d at least wear what he wanted, put on make up, and wear jewellery. Jesse hadn’t manage to break Alex.

✧→ The shed incident changed everything, because someone else got hurt. And from Alex’s POV it was because of Alex. Because he’d been selfish. He’d wanted Michael. And because of that Michael got injured.

Now that we’ve established the basics, onto Carina’s statement.

“Alex was too ashamed of Michael (not of being gay, which Maria knew, but of michael specifically) to name him to Maria for 10 years - until he saw Maria as a threat.” [x]

✧→ At 17, we saw how much Alex cared about Michael, that he wanted him safe and warm bc nights twere too cold to sleep in the car. That’s why Alex offered Michael to stay in the shed. He liked Michael, and he wanted to spend time with him. He even brought Michael a guitar bc he thought Michael would like to play. None of Alex’s behavior gives any indication that he was ashamed of Michael before the shed incident.

✧→ 17 year old Alex was afraid of his father, no surprise after years of abuse, but he also seemed confident, defiant even, believing he could handle it for a little bit longer until he’d finished high school and would finally be able to leave to make music. Despite living under Jesse’s roof, he dressed in all black, openly wore make up, nail polish, and jewellery/piercings, refusing to be another picture perfect son of his military father. We didn’t see it on screen, but given Jesse’s homophobic views, Alex’s behavior very likely caused his father to punish him in some way for it.

✧→ Then Michael kissed Alex at the UFO Emporium, Alex kissed back, one thing lead to another and they ended up at the shed where they had sex for the first time. It was Michael’s first time with a guy, we don’t know whether it was Alex’s first time tho. Alex still didn’t show any signs of being ashamed of Michael.

They were SO in love and happy in that moment. 🥺

✧→ When Jesse and the hammer happened, and it changed everything. Up until that moment, Alex had been used to his father’s abuse, he’d been strong enough, he’d been convinced he could take it, but this time someone else got badly hurt, and I think that broke something in Alex.

✧→ We never saw how things played out for Alex after Michael left the shed, all we know is that Jesse made Alex enlist. And given Jesse’s preference for blackmailing (he blackmailed Jenna, and Alex asked Flint what Jesse had on him) it’s probably fair to assume that Jesse threatened to go after Michael should Alex not do as he says.

Alex didn’t tell Maria for a decade because he was ashamed of Michael (at 17)?

Say what now???

There are several good reasons why Alex wouldn’t have told her, but shame isn’t one of them... I’m sure Alex thought of Maria as a trustworthy friend back then, but the most important reason why he wouldn’t reveal who ‘museum guy’ was would be the one the straight showrunner of the show’s apparently not aware of:

Alex would’ve outed Michael (without Michael’s consent I’d like to add) to Maria by telling her who it was. As a gay kid in 2008, I’m sure Alex was very well aware of LGBTQ etiquette, and the first rule of queer club is, you don’t out a fellow queer. And guess who’d just experience a brutal attack because he’s queer? Why would Alex ever consider outing Michael and potentially putting him at risk???

The outing reason alone would be enough to explain why Alex never told her who it was. And in 1x10 he didn’t outright out Michael either, Maria realized it was Guerin and Alex reluctantly confirmed (there was no way for him to plausibly deny it).

1x10, Alex: “It is just a standard, run-of-the-mill boy problem. Oh, come on. Don't give me psychic face, Maria.” Maria: “It's the guy from the museum, the one that kissed you into crazy stupid love when we were kids. He's back?” Alex: “Wha... How-how do you do that?” Maria: “You're just... I feel it, you're-you're hopeful, like you were before. Who is he? Come on, spill it. I've been waiting ten years for this. - Come on.” Alex: “You... you wouldn't believe it.” Maria: “It's not like you're hooking up with Wyatt Long or Michael Guerin or something. Geez. Please tell me you're in love with Wyatt Long. Wow.” Alex: “Michael's not so bad after a shower. But you know that.” Maria: “I had no idea...” Alex: “I know. I mean, how would you?” Maria: “It meant nothing, Alex. Seriously, I swear, it was just a drunk, dusty, no-good Texas rounder."

Another reason why Alex wouldn’t necessarily have told Maria: Alex was traumatized by what happened at the shed. This wasn’t just the ‘normal’ kind of abuse he endured on the regular (which is a boatload of trauma all of its own), someone else had been hurt, someone Alex liked, and because Alex liked him. On top of that Jesse likely threatened him. There’s no way Alex wasn’t scared and deeply traumatized. It’s fairly common that victims of abuse don’t tell anyone about it, out of fear even more bad things could happen, there’s surely also a lot of shame and self-blaming involved.

Alex also knew that Michael was homeless, and probably not yet of age. Jesse could’ve threatened Alex to put Michael back into the system or whatnot.

Absolutely NOTHING we’ve seen on screen suggests that Alex was ashamed of Michael when they were 17. Alex joined the military afterwards, and was away for a decade. Not many opportunities to talk about it to Maria, but again, the first reason (outing Michael) is a perfectly valid reason not to tell her for an entire decade. And this being a major trauma, Alex probably didn’t feel like opening that box again after such a long time.

And wow, claiming that Alex waited to tell Maria (which isn’t exactly what happened) because she felt threatened by her? Sure, Alex just waited for the right moment. 🙄

Is Alex ashamed of Michael at 27/28?

In 1x03 it seems like Alex let’s his father’s words get to him. “Seems to me the only one you're embarrassing is yourself, son.“ I’ve always interpreted this as a thinly veiled threat tho, and Alex, on instinct, immediately put distance between himself and Michael. Because before he talked to his father? Alex was perfectly happy to be seen with Michael, if he'd been ashamed, as Carina claims, he wouldn’t have approached Michael in public in the first place.

This is also how I read the scene in 1x02: “What happened at the reunion cannot happen again.“ In the pilot, Jesse had been part of the group of soldiers poking around Michael’s Airstream, and Alex saw the way his father looked at them talking. Then they kissed at the reunion, and I’m sure it felt so good and like coming home, but the fear of what Jesse could do if he found out was back the next morning, and Alex once more tried to put distance between himself and Michael to keep Michael save.

This is not an excuse for Alex pushing Michael away, not an excuse for Alex to call him a criminal either. That is absolutely shitty behavior and not okay. I just don’t buy this ‘Alex is ashamed of Michael’ shtick.

Friendly reminder that Maria did not only tell Alex in 1x10 “It meant nothing, Alex. Seriously, I swear, it was just a drunk, dusty, no-good Texas rounder.", here’s what she said in her next scene with Guerin:

1x10, Maria: “We're closed. - You found my necklace.” Michael: “Clasp broke. I fixed it. I think it calls for a celebration. And by celebration, I mean booze, preferably the free kind.” Maria: “Alex is one of my best friends.” Michael: “Congrats.” Maria: “I never would have slept with you if I knew you two had history. It can't happen again.”

So in 1x10 Maria

learned Michael is 'museum guy’

realized that Alex is in love with Michael (still), and hopeful

swore to Alex it was a one time thing and that it meant nothing

told Michael that Alex is one of her best friends (and you don’t go after your best friends’ love interests)

she would’ve never slept with Michael had she known

she also says it can’t happen again

And yet Carina’s surprised why many few fans don’t understand

what made Maria ignore Liz’s advice to talk to Alex (which would’ve been the fair thing to do, no one’s mad at Maria for catching feelings, it’s that she acted on them without talking to Alex first what upsets and angers people)

why Maria invited Michael to kiss her just 3 episodes later

why she’s still chasing after Michael 2 weeks later without having talked to Alex

she’ll continue to go after Michael but still won’t talk to Alex

and therefore some are having a hard time not to dislike Maria to some degree? Okay...

Either way, imo Alex was definitely not ashamed of Michael at 17, and I don’t see much evidence of him being ashamed of Michael at 27/28.

Apart from that, shame is for sure NOT the reason why Alex never told Maria.

Alright, this got LONG, but it I had to write it all down. I think I provided facts in the form of dialogue quotes. In addition, I’m sharing my interpretation of these facts.

I don’t claim that I’m right, I don’t claim that I know more than Carina (who seems to have forgotten some things she herself wrote tho), none of that. This is my interpretation of what happened, based on what we saw on screen, what’s been said by the characters, and what we know about the different characters involved.

I also don’t claim that Alex didn’t do anything wrong, that he’s a saint, or whatnot. But I strongly disagree with the notion that by not telling Maria Alex is somehow to blame for her going after Michael.

#alex manes #malex #michael guerin #long post is long #my apologies for the missing read more #i tried but tumblr wouldn't let me #🙈#rnm opinions #the alex essay

97 notes · View notes

kingdomofallthehearts · 4 years

Text

Kairi’s Decision

SoKai Week 2020 - Day 1 - Paopu Scene

Synopsis: What encouraged Kairi to share a paopu fruit with Sora on that fateful day?

Featuring: Kairi, Sora, Sokai Romance, Riku, Rikai Friendship, Sorikai Friendship, Axel/Lea (Mentioned), Selphie (Mentioned), KH3 Spoilers

Prompt for the Day: One Heart / Paopu Fruit

“Today you recuperate. On the morrow, you journey to the fated place.”

We arrived at the play island just before sunset. The sea quietly approached the warm sand only to slowly recede after reaching the land’s surface. The soft wind brushed the lush foliage that surrounded the dock ever so slightly. And the waterfall echoed a soft hum that distracted from the sound of our feet walking across the wet sand. We were home.

I peeled my eyes away from the welcoming environment to look at Sora and Riku. Those two were always one step ahead of me. Ever since we were little. They always ran faster during races, jumped higher in the obstacle course, and fought better with their wooden swords. Of course, in those days I didn’t mind. In fact, I enjoyed watching on the sidelines, because even if I wasn’t as fast or as limber or as strong, we were always having fun together.

But times have changed.

Soon we would all be fighting for our lives. And even though I trained as hard as I could in a pocket dimension with Le- I mean Axel, I still felt like the weakest link.

My eyes drifted towards the shack, which Sora was leisurely approaching. Wait a minute, where’s Riku? I spun around and spotted him behind me, staring off into the distance. That’s odd. He’s usually always out in front.

“Riku,” I whispered as to not startle him, “are you okay?”

He was looking out at the sea, though he didn’t seem to be admiring its beauty like I was only a few moments before. Rather, he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. At the sound of my voice he slowly turned his head.

“I’m okay, just thinking…” “That’s good. But you know even if you aren’t okay you can talk to me, right?” He cracked a small smile at that. “Thanks Kairi, but for now I could really use some time to myself. Besides…” That small smile began to turn into a big smirk, “I’m sure you and Sora could use some alone time.” “Wha… what are you—“

“—Hey guys aren’t you coming?” Speaking of the devil, Sora yelled out from a distance.

“We… we’ll be there in a second,” I managed to stutter out. Good grief, Riku really caught me off guard with that statement. I could feel my face heating up and with the sun’s gradual descent, I couldn’t blame it on the hot weather.

“I’m alright, really. You go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” Riku reassured me. “Okay. We’ll be waiting for you.” “Mm. Thank you for understanding.”

And with that, I left Riku with his thoughts and headed towards our usual spot.

______________________________________________________________

“Hey, why’s Riku all alone?” “He said he needed time to himself. Let’s let him be.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He said that too, but I didn’t understand. Why would he want to be left alone? Why wouldn’t he want to spend what little free time we had left with us? Did he not realize the severity of the situation we have gotten into?

No. Of course he knew. He probably knew better than both me and Sora. But this might be the last night for the three of us to be toge—

I shouldn’t think like that. That’s the fear talking. But it would be foolish of me to pretend I wasn’t scared. We’ve been separated for so long and have only recently been reunited. I didn’t want to go through that again. No, I couldn’t go through that again. Especially with…

Before I even realized it, my hands reached out to the top of the tree I was sitting on and plucked off two paopu fruits.

“I’m sure you and Sora could use some alone time.” Why did those words suddenly pop in my head? I could feel a pink flush returning to my cheeks as I looked over at Sora.

Sora. He was looking over my shoulder at Riku with a concerned look on his face. Sora changed. His voice grew deeper and his height grew taller as the time he spent away from home increased. His skinny arms have built some muscle due to his constant use of the keyblade. His clothes were embedded with magical properties to assist his fight against the heartless. And his eyes once filled with curiosity about the wonders of the worlds beyond now reflected hints of exhaustion from all of the adventure he’s been on over the past couple years.

“Sora don’t ever change.”

I said those words a long time ago, but now that I’m older I realize what a childish request that was. Growing up is a part of change. Even I changed. It was only natural for Sora to change too. Yet, the most important parts of him stayed the same. He still acted like a goofball. He still made everyone laugh. He still tried his best at any task thrown his way. He still shared his positivity even in the scariest of situations. And most importantly, he would still do everything in his power to protect his friends.

I sharply inhaled and passed a fruit to Sora. “Here.” “—Huh?” Whatever thoughts were occupying Sora’s head completely vanished as he stared in shock at the fruit before him.

Under different circumstances, I might have consulted Riku or Selphie before presenting the fruit of legends. Under different circumstances, I might have waited to confirm if the drawing in the cave still meant something to him. Under different circumstances, I might have worried about getting my heart broken. But fate had a different plan for us and I needed to tell Sora how I felt, even if my feelings weren’t reciprocated.

“Tomorrow’s fight will be our toughest yet. I want to be a part of your life no matter what. That’s all.”

No matter what my future may hold, I wanted Sora to be a part of it. I wanted to experience happiness and excitement by his side. I wanted to be his support when he was feeling sorrow or anger. I just… I just wanted to be with him.

When I finished, I waited for what seemed like ages for Sora’s response. He looked so serious, which was not an expression I was used to. Before I had a chance to say anything further, he gingerly took the fruit and revealed the most tender smile I’ve ever seen.

“Kairi, I’ll keep you safe.” “No, let me keep you safe.”  

With those words, we each took a bite of each other’s fruits. However, now Sora’s gone. And I can only hope the legend will reunite us. But this time, I won’t be watching on the sidelines.

“If two people share one, their destinies become intertwined. They’ll remain a part of each other’s lives no matter what.”

______________________________________________________________

Notes: Thank you so much to whoever read this! I wasn’t planning on writing anything for Sokai week, but inspiration just kind of happened and now I have two additional prompts lined up. I’m still adjusting to Tumblr so I’m not entirely sure if comments will be available on this post, but I’d love to talk to y’all about this piece, Sokai, or Kingdom Hearts in general! Looking forward to meeting you all and I hope you enjoy what I have planned for the future.

#sokaiweek #sokaiweek2020 #sokai #sora #kairi #fanfiction

26 notes · View notes

wayward-musings · 4 years

Text

Weeping Willow

Noon was the laziest time of the day for anybody who lived in my neighbourhood. It was the time of the day when streets were empty, roads deserted and, instead of children, lizards lay on the small rocks in the park, basking in the sun. But had anybody chanced to stroll by churchyard street that windy afternoon, they would have seen a greatly dejected figure shuffling along the lane, under the bougainvillea. Shoulders sagging, gait heavy and a small bunch of purple wildflowers clutched in one hand, they would have seen Tom Wylde walking to the cemetery.

It was a peaceful place, the cemetery. Long stalks of grass swept across the lush expanse, dotted in neat rows with headstones of granite and marble. The sun did not glare as it did in other areas, and the wind itself seemed to stand still - A cool draught sometimes chanced to ruffle the stalks of grass.

A tree here, a tree there, a grave in the shade. Another under the willow tree.

Tom Wylde looked across the field and began pacing.

First row, second row, third and fourth. Sixth from the left.

He stood there, looking down at the smooth, simple marble stone, the only mark his mother had left on the mortal world. Etched into the stone were the words :

Jessica Wylde

May her Soul rest in peace.

He brushed off a few stray leaves and sat down. Placing the wildflowers on the headstone, he began.

"Afternoon, Mother," he said, "It's exactly the kind of day you would have liked. Weather's fine, too. Except my day's gone all wrong. " - he gave a shaky laugh - "I got fired, which means I'm unemployed. Unemployed - do you hear that, Mother? I've got no money for food - the landlord's been demanding rent and I've got no money to give him."

He sat quietly, his head between his knees.

"What did you use to say, Mother? 'This too shall pass.' Well, Mother, it seems that this damn well won't. I shall have died of starvation in a few days." He began rocking back and forth, veering on the edge of hysteria. Tears ran freely down his cheeks. "Say something, Mother! Why won't you? Where are you when I need you? You left me when I was so young." - voice faltering - "Come back - I just don't know what to do." He dissolved into tears, and shook fiercely as his body was wracked by sobs.

Anybody who might have chanced to pass by the churchyard that Tuesday afternoon would have seen a man, broken by grief and misery, shaking and drawing in ragged breaths amid heart-wrenching sobs.

Tom Wylde wept his heart out, and just when he thought that he could not produce any more tears, he felt a small hand on his shoulder. He looked up, startled.

It was a young girl - no more than twelve. Her shining golden hair was pulled back with a ribbon, and she wore a spotless pair of dungarees over a bright yellow shirt. Tom Wylde watched, entranced, as the girl smiled, dimples denting her rosy cheeks, and then proceeded to sit herself down on the grass next to him, as if it had been her spot all along.

"I'm Willow Hillman. I heard you crying," she began cheerfully, as if she had not just borne witness to a mental breakdown. "And some of the things you said. Although I shouldn't have been eavesdropping. Everybody tells me it's a bad thing to do. I'm sorry for that. Although I suppose it's a good thing I heard, though, probably, otherwise I wouldn't have come here to cheer you up. Anyway, don't worry. It'll all get better. That's what my mother says . Here," She thrust a large, fluffy dandelion into Tom Wylde's hands. He looked down at it, slightly dazed, wondering why this little girl had suddenly decided to talk to him, of all people. Hadn't he scared her off with his breakdown? All the same, what was a twelve-year-old doing in a cemetery?

He looked at the dandelion and then turned his head to thank the little girl, but she was gone.

***

True to Willow Hillman's word, things did get better for Tom Wylde. For once, he decided to quit moping around and actually get some work done. He sent out applications for jobs and ran various errands for people to make ends meet.

Each day he went to the cemetery, and each day he was greeted by the same toothy grin and the same small hands holding a dandelion for him.

He learnt a great deal about his little companion, too.

"Do you know how to make a daisy chain?"

Willow and Tom sat on the grass, plucking bits of it and throwing it at each other. Willow flashed him a grin. The sunlight turned her hair to liquid gold, and she looked as if she were made of the woods herself - a little nature spirit. It was just in the way she looked wholly at home in the meadow - regardless of it being a cemetery.

Tom smiled as he laced daisy stems together - the first smile of his in many months.

And truth be told, anyone who would have passed by the cemetery that day would have seen a tall and lanky man, running after a little girl, who curiously resembled a wood sprite- in the way the sunlight illuminated her frame; daisy chains tipping precariously on both their heads.

***

"Do you like trees, Willow?"

"My favourite is the bougainvillea."

"Why?"

" 'Cause it reminds me of myself. It's sweet and strong and it can stand anything."

Tom remained silent.

***

"You know, Willow, my mother - she left me when I needed her most. She died when I was eight."

"Really? Mine too!"

***

"I don't like cars."

"Why?"

" 'Cause one killed my mommy."

***

"It'll get better, don't worry."

***

A warm day.

A tall man, sitting next to a pint-sized child.

A young girl, with hair the colour of the golden sun, silhouetted in the evening light of the waning sun next to her newest friend.

Daisy chains, strung with threads of friendship.

Bougainvillea trees - delicate, yet strong.

Wispy white weeds, laced with self-discovery and blown on with gratitude for the existence of Nature.

The silken bonds of Friendship.

Peace.

Affection.

Hope.

***

Days turned to weeks, the sun rose and set each day as the moon waxed and waned through the nights - and it all led up to that one day when Tom Wylde was once again seen striding to the churchyard, this time with a spring in his step, a white envelope clutched tightly in one hand.

Tom Wylde had had none to share his happiness and sorrows with until a few weeks ago, when a little girl named Willow had waltzed into his life like the sprite she was, and he was bursting with joy and anticipation.

His days of sending out job applications had paid off, and Messrs. Barn and James had replied in the affirmative, offering a top-notch managerial position, saying that they would be 'glad to have you in our company', and that he was to start on this Monday the seventeenth of August.

Spotting a field of wispy white weeds - dandelions- he stopped to pick one for the little twelve-year-old who had brought so much joy into his life. He would never forget this day - the fourth of May- when things in his life took a different turn.

However, the moment he set foot in the cemetery, he sensed something was wrong. The air no longer stirred with the cool draught, birds remained mute and immobile, hidden among the dense foliage of the tall, lush trees. The whole meadow seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation.

All was silent, and no sounds reached Tom Wylde's ears - except one.

The heartbroken, gut-wrenching sobs of an inconsolable child.

Panic and fear filled Tom Wylde's heart. The lone dandelion clutched in his hand, he felt as if he was in a daze. He felt his legs move quickly towards the source of the sound.

Later, he remembered seeing the sunny face that greeted him every day twisted into an expression of profound grief. Some distance away, Willow Hillman had looked up at him with a tear stained face and large, wet blue eyes. Her golden hair had glinted as it always did in the sunlight, and with one last smile - and one last tear trailing down her rosy cheek, she had faded away before his very eyes.

He stood, stunned - entranced, as the only thing that had brought light back into his dull life faded into oblivion. He felt himself walking, running to the spot where he had seen Willow. His head spun ; his mind was reeling. He was shell-shocked, screaming her name until his throat felt hoarse and raw, as though shards of glass had been poured down it. He felt wetness on his cheeks, his eyes smarting, the sun brash and burning against his face, the very last remnants of hope ebbing away from his soul.

He had never felt so heartbroken in his life. His bones no longer felt like bones, his brain felt useless and unable to comprehend this strange reality; and the world collapsed around him as his knees hit the grass.

His eyes fell upon a lone headstone of pure white marble before him - the very one he had been weeping over. Etched into it were the words :

Willow Hillman

Beloved daughter and friend.

You shall forever live on in our hearts.

Taken from us on this the second day of May.

Anybody who might have passed by the churchyard that bright, sunny Sunday morning might have seen a tall, young man, collapsed on his knees, staring dumbstruck at the grave in front of him as a lone bougainvillea petal fluttered down to rest on his coat-clad shoulder.

***

Fin.

A note: This is something I wrote a long time ago, when I had just started seriously trying to improve my writing. I think I've developed in some ways since then, but I think this is a good starter piece when it comes to posting my originals on Tumblr! (I'm on Wattpad as TheWodehouseAddict). I'd really like to thank @parkerpeter24 and @kelieah for encouraging me to post this! (Thank you so, so much for helping me break out of my comfort zone 😅)

#my writing #mango writes

25 notes · View notes

writtenbyhappynerds · 4 years

Text

Fanfiction 102- Writing Superpowers

Another week, another lecture. Like supervillains, writing superpowers came up during Fanfiction 101. We see a lot of characters with superpowers, and we have written many many characters with superpowers. Superpowers or gifts or quirks, whatever you call them, can be poorly executed much like characterization; they become vague, mary sue-esque, and they don’t let me as the reader know what’s going on with said character. Defining superpowers is a lot like defining the Rules of the Universe (as discussed in Unit 1 of Fanfiction 101) where defining and setting parameters for superpowers will protect the canon of your characters as well as their validity.

The most important thing you need to do when writing superpowers is to figure out what those superpowers are and what they can and can’t do. I’m very over vague Elsa ice powers that started with being able to freeze things and ended with visions of the past. Magic is the most difficult superpower to write because it is the most freeform, but you have to define limitations, costs and put a cap on those capabilities that don’t involve the OC collapsing from overuse because that’s such a cliche. A great example is The Fairly Odd Parents. Cosmo and Wanda can’t make money, can’t make true love, and can’t kill or bring someone back from the dead. Their time and agency to cast magic on behalf of someone are limited, and they can’t cast whatever magic they want; it has to be limited to what the child they serve wants. Writing setbacks to magic is a lot like writing character flaws. You need to take the time to give limitations. By giving magic limitations you have an easier time creating plot and adversaries for your characters because it’ll be easier to create a character that would really challenge your OC.

A common exception to writing flaws in superpowers is DC or Marvel Comics. I have seen many many times the scene where, “an OC’s file gets passed around and we the audience get to read a laundry list of superpowers including but not limited to fire, ice, air, metal, lightning, etc.” I understand that superheroes in DC Comics have an abundance of superpowers. Look at Wonder Woman or Superman. Do not fall down that rabbit hole. You will struggle to write conflict for your character if you give them that many abilities. Hell, Superman’s own writers struggle to write conflict for him. It’s why he’s the most iconic but ultimately most boring character. On top of that, the “passing around a file” scene is another very overused cliche. I understand that it’s an easy way for the audience to see what the OC can do, but I think we as writers can challenge ourselves to be better than that. In addition, don’t take away the choice to share from the OC. If we’ve learned anything from X-Men, it’s that superpowers aren’t always taken well and some would rather die than be seen as a mutant or a freak. We know that these unnatural abilities are strange and confusing and that the people who have them need time to grow. They don’t need their supervisors outing them to God and everyone. Let your characters share their powers on their own terms. Let them have a special moment with the cast where they get to feel wonderful and special and magical. You’ll reveal more about the OC’s personality and develop a deeper relationship with the cast. Here’s an example.

Let’s say we’re writing Avengers fanfic. Let’s say we give our OC control over light. Here are two scenes that are revealing the same information to Captain America. One is done on the terms of the OC, who we’ll call Astrid, the other is done by Nick Fury.

*****

Astrid led him back to her room. It was like his own, the same size, and the same basic tidings- bed, dresser, desk, chair. While his had been dark gray, as had the rest of the team’s, Astrid’s was bright white. Steve noticed heavy black curtains tucked back from her window. The black stood out against the white of the rest of her room. She had a smile on her face. Her eyes were alight with excitement, and she pointed up at the ceiling.

Covering the ceiling of Astrid’s bedroom were over a hundred hanging crystals. They had different shapes, sizes, and lengths and all swung from the ceiling on thin clear strings. Astrid turned off the lights. She pulled the black curtains out and covered her window which plunged them both into darkness.

“I had to beg Nick for these. I told him it would be good practice.”

“Practice for what?” A light turned on. It took Steve a moment to realize the light was coming from Astrid’s own hand.

“No one’s really told you what I can do yet. I wanted to show you myself.” Carefully, she pulled one of the crystals down and let it rest in the palm of her hand.

Rainbows bounced off the walls. Tiny refractory lights bounced around the room, off each crystal that was a brilliant gem in the darkness. Off the metal of Steve’s shield. Off the brass buckles of Astrid’s shoes. She grinned merrily, a beautiful cascade coming around the both of them.

“It takes me forever to fall asleep. I never want to stop looking at them.” Steve smiled, studying the way the light danced on her walls.

“Yeah.” He breathed. “I get it.”

*****

And the other, done by Nick Fury.

*****

Steve sat at a roundtable with the rest of the team. At least, he thought he did. Looking around, he could see one person missing from the group.

“Where’s Astrid?” Fury and Coulson exchanged a look. Coulson handed over a file and strode out of the room.

“Agent Dawes is currently occupied. We thought it best to tell you without her.” Fury slid the file across the table. “Along with being an Agent of SHIELD, Agent Dawes joined up because of her… condition.”

Steve opened the file. He could see a picture of a much younger Astrid looking back at him. Her date of birth, her parents, everything was laid out before him. When he flipped the page he found page after page of notes.

“She can do what?”

“We don’t have a real name for it yet. Just light manipulation.” Steve kept reading. The reports dated back years prior, with medic referral forms, personal statements, and even more photographs of Astrid.

“Is Astrid a potential threat too, Director?”

“We all are. Agent Dawes recognized her own risk ahead of time.” Fury took the file back. “She’s been training for years. She has it under control. Stark and Banner already know about her-”

“I’m the last to know?” Steve said angrily. He looked at Tony and Bruce.

“Hey, not my fault you got here late.” Tony turned back to his phone.

*****

Do you see the difference? See how much more personal the first one is? Not only do we get to see Astrid actually use her powers, but we get a moment of bonding and trust between her and Steve, whereas in the second one her personal information is being divulged on her behalf. Not by her. It’s beneficial to make these superpowers personal, in the sense that the OC should be able to tell people on their own. Let them establish that trust with their team, and don’t shove it off to Nick Fury or Coulson or even Batman. It’s their gift, they need to share it on their terms.

Superpowers and The Rules of the Universe go hand in hand in many ways. What I mean is the Rules of the Universe apply to superpowers as much as they do to timelines and cast desires and canon. When you write superpowers, they have to make sense with the world they live in, and not every OC needs superpowers. If you look at Twilight, you’d most likely have an OC with more subtle, less combat-oriented abilities (see Edward’s mind-reading or Alice’s seer talents). If you give an OC something heavy combat-oriented in this universe it feels a little clunky, and a little more like the Avengers but vampires instead of vampires with talents. On top of that, not every vampire needs to have a talent. It’s totally okay to have a vampire who can’t do anything special. I’m more compelled to read stories with those characters because they seem more realistic. It’s okay to have a character less important to the Volturi than Edward or Alice, or less gifted than Jasper. You can explore their individuality without tying them or limiting what makes them special to “they are a vampire and they have a gift.” Another example is Harry Potter. In that universe, the only extraordinary gifts we know of are Olcummency and Parseltongue. One is something you’re born with, the other takes patience and practice. It would be unrealistic to give a Harry Potter OC additional gifts. It would be rare to give them either of the aforementioned gifts because if something is described as rare in the canon, it shouldn’t include your OC. Your OC is not an exception to something’s scarcity.

Let’s talk about powers themselves. I have several gripes with superpowers, and we are going to discuss all of them. First and foremost, something that kind of shows your own ass as a writer is using the -kinesis phrase of a superpower beyond the common ones people know (telekinesis, psychokinetic, etc.). It looks like you just googled, ‘list of superpowers’, and found atmokinesis and put it in because you liked the description. Who talks like that? No one knows what those -kinesis phrases actually mean we just use them because we think they sound cool. Don’t tell me that the character has atmokinesis, just tell me they can control the weather. You don’t need to use big words to make your gift sound impressive. It’s what they do with the gift that makes it impressive. Going off of this, not every superpower needs to be combat-oriented. You don’t need to give people super-strength, invulnerability, or fire powers for them to matter or be useful. It’s actually more creative and more unique if you take a superpower that isn’t combat-oriented and find a way to make it mean something. The best example is the Tumblr post that will be linked below, where the OC’s main ability was helping. It was helping out wherever they could and trying to make a difference and making the lives of their friends, who had some of the “strongest” superpowers in the universe, better. It is beautifully written, an incredible short story, and shows the value of being there for others versus trying to save the day. If you are writing a character with superpowers, I would absolutely recommend reading it.

Finally, make it make sense. With superpowers, it’s kind of like the old saying, “if you describe a hammer hanging on the wall you better use the hammer before the end of the story.” Don’t describe something that you won’t use. So things like controlling taste, smell, temperature, those are things we never see used in the narrative, so there’s no need for the character to have control over them. If you’re struggling to come up with superpowers, the Editor and I have a few methods we’ve developed over the years to get off of and stay off of the superpower list websites:

I like to have my superpowers mirror the character’s backstory. I have a character who was kicked out of their home at 16 and therefore became a “hearth” where they could bind one location to appear at many, and with the turn of a knob bring the group from New York to Seattle to London. I did this to represent the character making their own home once they were exiled. Another example is a character who was almost killed in a tsunami. They can breathe underwater, and swim impossibly fast. You can give characters with a passion for drawing the ability to bring inanimate objects to life, characters who went to Antarctica as a researcher who came back with ice powers, characters who lost their twin that can multiply themselves, or characters who suffered amnesia that can now modify the memories of others. It’s fun to tie the gift to the story, and to me personally, it feels more cohesive when I do that. However, this isn’t for everyone. When you do this, the character’s superpowers shouldn’t become their whole personality. That should never happen in the first place, but especially here.

Another method we’ve used and we like is contrasting superpowers. If your character is blind, give them telekinesis (Scott 2015). If your character is afraid of heights, give them the ability to fly. If they’re afraid of dogs, make them talk to animals. Learning to get over their fears and weaknesses in the grand journey of mastering one’s powers shows growth, and shows character development, and we should never shy away from an opportunity for character development.

A final method that we’ve recently adopted is genetics. Something you see in Avengers fanfics is that the OC was inexplicably kidnapped and experimented on by HYDRA despite them having no shortage of volunteers as we see in Avengers: Age of Ultron, therefore, the existence of these OCs who are usually kidnapped doesn’t make sense. That is only mildly my business. What is my business is these test subjects having powers that don’t really make sense or that we don’t understand how they got them. It would make sense realistically, that a character who HYDRA experimented on would have powers that affect their vulnerability and less “shoots fire out of their hands.” This is because we can only assume that if they’re not using an Infinity Stone, they’re splicing and combining genes from animals to make a perfect soldier. If that’s your cup of tea, using a genetic connection to explain someone’s powers, go for it. The Editor and I have been using recently is the idea of gifts passing through generations. Let’s return to our new hero Astrid. Instead of being experimented on by HYDRA, having a backstory where she was maybe mugged or is afraid of the dark, or a backstory where she loves creepy-crawly dark spaces, we can say the following:

“Wait… How many people can do what you can?” Tony looked up from his phone to Astrid, who had become engrossed in her newest prism. “Hey! Glow-stick!”

“Mmm?” Tony tossed her his phone. “Oh… you don’t have to friend him.”

“Why isn’t he here?” Astrid stood up and walked back to Tony, handing him his phone.

“Why isn’t who here?” asked Steve.

“My brother Jeremy. He’s like me.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He didn’t want to go. I texted him when Director Fury reached out, and he didn’t want to give up on his Northern Lights project. My cousins said no too.”

“What do you mean, your cousins?”

“Didn’t you know? I thought you knew everything Stark. My gift’s genetic. It’s been in my family for generations. I have my brother, and like, 3 other cousins who can do what I can. I’m the only one who responded to Director Fury’s text.” Astrid sighed. “If my cousin Dixie were here, she’d tell me that means I’m the idiot of the group. C’est la vie.”

****

You can totally make superpowers genetic. It’s something that isn’t done often and is very fun because you can get into subtle mutations or variations of the same power. With Astrid, since we know she controls light, maybe the gene mutates with one of her cousins who can bend light in a way that they appear invisible. Maybe one of Astrid’s children can make the light into solid objects. Try making your superpowers a recessive gene. It could be a fun way to showcase the OC’s support network and give an explanation for their gifts that’s uncommon.

Our final note is that if you are writing a character with superpowers, we want to see the character learn to use those powers. It is so boring to have a character come out of the gate with gifts that they’ve mastered perfectly, OR, have a character initially struggle, but learn and master their gifts in 1 training session. That’s so boring to the reader, because there’s no development, and there’s no struggle. If a character earns their powers and is experiencing the new and wonderful, we want to see that struggle. That way at the end of the story when they have near-perfect control the ending is so much more satisfying because we know what went into that. Look at Avatar: The Last Airbender. The final fight with Ozai and Zuko’s final fight with Azula is the ultimate show of growth and mastery. You clearly see that neither of these boys are the same kids from the beginning of the series. The same is true for Percy Jackson, where all the Olympians have moments where they have powers, but don’t know or can’t use them. Let us see the struggle. It makes the journey more worthwhile. And, speaking of Avatar, no more “can control the four elements.” We’ve all seen the show. We all know the source material. It’s not original and your OC is not the Avatar.

Next week is a big one! We’re talking about diversity. Not only diversity in race but diversity in LGBT, in experience, and how to capture and make your stories diverse, and where it makes sense to have a story that’s diverse.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl

References:

The Ables. https://www.goodreads.com/work/best_book/41929531-the-ables. Accessed 26 July 2020.

https://idontknowartdump.tumblr.com/post/169046958039/inkskinned-writing-prompt-s-at-18-everyone

9 notes · View notes

unrestedjade · 4 years

Note

fic writing ask! 6, 9, 10, 14, 18

6. Favourite pairing (of food + distraction to procrastinate on writing)?

This time of year, I'm partial to bing cherries and doomscrolling Twitter. Twitter really isn't much fun but it IS compelling.

9. Choose: losing a thought-out tumblr post OR leaving a fic up on AO3 for 24hrs with a very embarrassing typo?

I'd rather weather the embarrassing typo. I usually have at least one, anyway. My fics are growers, not showers, so one day means maybe three people will see it.

10. If your favourite author found your fics, how loudly would you scream in horror (in decibels)?

Train horns are about what? 170 dB?

14. If you could take one word and publicly shame it for having inadequate synonyms, which would you choose?

Not so much the word, but the general vibe of the *action* of shrugging needs more synonyms. Or I just need to let go of my obsession with forced nonchalance, but that's unlikely to happen. *shrug*

18. Provide a summary of the hellscape that is your creative process from idea to publish?

Just follow these simple steps! 1. Flash of painfully specific dialog/vignette while I'm doing something else and cannot write it down. 2. Maladaptive daydreaming about said specific thing until I can get to my computer. (This part is very nice.) 3. When I get to the computer, under NO circumstances write down the thing, or even open the word processor. Mess around with playlists and games instead. 4. 3-5 more business days of daydreaming, now with alternate routes and/or an expansion at both ends of the specific thing. (This part is also very nice.) 5. Finally vomit up anywhere from 50 to 2000 words of exploratory drafting at 11:36 PM on a work night. (Either nice or extremely psychically painful.) 6. Crap, this is nothing like what's playing on repeat in my head. 7. Open a new document and make about five half-hearted bullet points that I'm definitely going to expand into a real outline this time; I've learned my lesson for sure. 8. Never, under any circumstances, look at those bullet points ever again. 9. Or make the outline. 10. Start something totally unrelated. This will help, somehow. 11. Come back to the original thing two weeks later, pick up in either a later or earlier section under the delusion that writing out of sequence will help. 12. Nope. It didn't. Just like every other time I've tried that. 13. Write paragraphs of utter crap until I stumble backwards into an idea that gets me unstuck. 14. Continue until I get stuck again. 15. Start another unrelated project to avoid this one. (Repeat up to 15x.) 16. Write another 3k of the original thing in a haze of my own genius. 17. This sucks and I'm a fraud and a charlatan and it's a good thing I have a day job because yikes. 18. Force myself to read over the draft, decide it's not actually that bad. 19. Make a few revisions. Now it's amazing! 20. Let it sit untouched in Scrivener until I hate it again. I picked at it too much; now it's overwrought and ruined. 21. Revise again. 22. Beta? Actually, they're really busy. I shouldn't be a bother. I don't even want to post this thing in all honesty. It's self-indulgent crap. 23. Read it again in two weeks. You know, really, it's not THAT bad. More revisions. 24. Fuck it, it's not like I'm querying Random House or something. 25. Think about posting for another 5-10 business days, but don't. 26. Spend fifteen minutes fixing all the formatting that got fucked between 4tw.com to Scrivener to AO3. 27. Finally post at one in the morning, weeks to months after I started writing. 28. Wake up to at least five typos and misspellings I somehow didn't notice between then and now. 29. Oh! What a nice comment! Maybe this was actually okay? I should reply to this very cool person. 30. Forget to do that for three weeks at least. 31. Have an idea for a continuation of the Thing or a completely random new idea that literally no one but me will care about. 32. Go to 1.

ALTERNATELY: 1. Get fish-slapped by a scenario I absolutely MUST read but it isn't anywhere. 2. Fuck it, I'll feed myself. 3. Write 10-20k over one weekend and screw up my back from sitting weird for too long. 4. Three months later, maybe post some of it. Read it to myself and chortle with glee ten times over that span.

There is no in between. And this is why I don't post very fast! It's a sickness.

9 notes · View notes

emptymasks · 4 years

Text

Wither and Wilt

Pairing: Rudolf von Österreich-Ungarn | Rudolf Crown Prince of Austria/Der Tod | Death

(as in Rudolf has a crush on Der Tod, it’s up to you whether Der Tod truly returns his affections, I wrote it that he does truly like Rudolf but you’re welcome to interpret it anyway you like)

Words: 2032

Rating: General Audiences

Read on Ao3 @ emptymasks. I can’t put the link or tumblr blocks the post.

Notes: Death is based on Uwe Kröger's Der Tod from the original 1992 production, with a little bit of inspiration also drawn from the Hungarian production's A Halal. You could probably picture anyone as Rudolf, I kept imagining Andreas Bieber and Lukas Perman's portrayals while writing it. Death is genderfluid in this because 1. I'm genderfluid and I see Uwe's death as genderfluid and that representation matters a lot to me , and 2. Uwe literally descried his Der Tod as fluid in gender and sexuality. So there's your canon genderfluid, pansexual Death.

So... you will most likely laugh when I say how i got the idea for this fic, that after having several WIP's for various Elisabeth fics, I ended up writing this because, right, I was playing Animal Crossing and of course I've made several of Uwe's and Máté's Der Tod costumes for me to wear in the game and while wearing my 'Uwe Tod Jacket' I put a white wildflower in my hair and literally had to leave the game so I could right this because the idea came straight away.

It was unusually sunny for April. Sunlight peaked in out of the tree branches of the gardens, casting speckles of stained glass windows onto the grass. The many flowers and shrubs only sought to pair with the weather and make the most pleasant day of the year so far.

It was the weather that had driven Rudolf outside. He loved the fresh air, loved feeling it on his skin, despite how his family would prefer him cooped up inside. (Though they always seemed to want him inside when he wanted to be outside, and outside when he wanted to be inside. Forever wanting for him whatever he wished for the least.) He'd forgone a jacket or coat, allowing the breeze to flutter against his white shirt that billowed out as he moved.

A glimpse of sunlight and a walk alone through the gardens was one of the few pleasures in life Rudolf had at the moment. One of the few things that was just his. He was fortunate that the spring air hadn't coaxed anyone else outside and he got to enjoy all of it to himself.

Although... there was one person who couldn't damper his walks, only increase the joy Rudolf found on them. And as if he'd been waiting for Rudolf to think of him, the wind turned bitterly too cold for a moment and a pair of footsteps were at his side.

They didn't speak for a while. They didn't need to. Rudolf found comfort in his old friend simply being by his side, he needn't do anything. They walked in tandem until they came to a small clearly populated by wildflowers and Rudolf could feel the wind high on his cheeks.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" His voice was quiet, as if afraid it was a stupid thing to say.

"Quite," Death's reply was soft and it called to Rudolf like a siren and he turned his head to find Death wasn't staring at the clearly, he was simply starting at Rudolf.

Rudolf felt his mouth part and cheeks flush and he didn't know how to prolong the moment and he definitely didn't want to say anything that would cause Death to leave. He walked a few paces more.

"Would you like to sit with me for a while? It doesn't have to be long, I know you're always busy, and you shouldn't feel like you have to spend any time with me and..." Rudolf trailed off as Death sat down at his feet.

"I assure you, Rudolf, I wouldn't be wasting my time by spending it with anyone I like."

"Oh..." He winced at how stupid he sounded. "Alright then."

He sat down opposite Death, not close enough to touch, afraid of what would happen if they did but also longing to know. Death turned his head and looked out across the gardens and Rudolf took the chance to stare.

Out of all the times Death had come to him, only a couple of them had been outside of his bedroom. (Not that that had any implications, he pleaded at his heart). The few times they'd been outdoors had been at night or in the evening, the light low and dark, Death rivalling the moon with his glow.

This was the first time he'd ever seen Death in the daylight.

Rudolf felt like he had to hold his breath as he gazed. The sun made Death's hair a more buttercup yellow, more colourful than he'd ever seen it, and only highlighted how pale his skin was even more. Where human's skin would darken a red colour, his seemed to be... blue. Rudolf thought about how impossible that was, but this was Death. For all he knew Death's blood was blue, if he even had blood at all. Light gleamed off his skin and it almost looked as if there were tiny, intricate crystals along his cheekbones, glistening and shimmering.

He didn't know what Death could be looking at, and realised Death very well might not be looking at anything at all. He may just be content to let Rudolf stare. And so Rudolf tore his gaze away and looked down. The more colourful flowers had given way to ones of pure white and Rudolf plucked one up with an idea. A stupid, childish idea that Rudolf found himself acting on.

“Here,” Rudolf reached up, the pale white flower trembling in his hand, and tucked it behind Death’s ear. “White looks nice on you.”

Death’s face cracked for a second, broke out of its usual cold and calm expression into one of quiet shock, and then the smallest smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Why, thank you, my little prince,” He spoke and Rudolf thought about how often Death’s voice sounded like it was only for him, as if everything Death said to him was their own little secret. A black gloved hand reached towards the bundle of white wildflowers in Rudolf’s hands. “Why don’t you match with me?”

Rudolf’s hands jerked back and Death’s face morphed back to looking cold. He tilted his head. Always so curious about humans and their funny little worries.

The cold gaze lingered on Rudolf, he could feel it baring down on him as he looked at his hands.

He hadn’t meant to react as quickly and sharply as that. Should he explain himself? He wished sometimes Death would just ask him things more often, but Death was so content to just sit and wait until Rudolf was ready to share and that just caused more anxiety to swirl around in Rudolf’s stomach. What if Death wasn’t really waiting until he was ready to speak? What if Death just didn’t want to know and if Rudolf opened his mouth he’d just be bothering another person, disappointing another person, words and ideas tumbling out of his lips before he can stop them, his passion seen as immaturity and naivety. What if Death was merely humouring him, and as soon as Rudolf spilled his heart all over porcelain skin and black velvet, he was met with jeers; His mother sat on her throne as Death coiled around from behind her and leaned into her ear, lips brushing against skin, heat and temptation and desire pouring out of his mouth as she looked down on him in scorn.

A sudden coldness brushed against his hand, then slowly pressed down and Rudolf fought the urge to shiver.

Death’s hand laid bare against his own.

He knew of course, that all that was ever under those gloves were hands, just ordinary hands (well ordinary looking hands), but he half had expected something monstrous. Perhaps gnarled or scared skin. Perhaps a blue glow that seemed to linger around Death just as he would enter or leave his visits. Perhaps claws.

Instead pristinely manicured nails decorated the soft, albeit cold, skin that rested against him. Death was a prideful being. He still had his head slightly tilted, eye’s deciphering a puzzle.

“This is about more than you not wanting to wear flowers in your hair…?” Death said it like he himself quiet sure he was asking a question.

“It’s…” Rudolf felt like he’d surfaced out of water and had the urge to take gasping breaths. “It’s not that I don’t want to… It’s… It’s not something a man does.”

“According to whom?” Rudolf forced himself to keep still, even as he thought he heard Death almost chuckle.

“Grandmother said-”

“Oh, your family and their silly, little ideas-”

“Grandmother said that men don’t wear flowers. Flowers and pretty things are for women and girls to wear and for men to admire.” Rudolf was surprised at how he continued to talk over Death. From anyone else he would have received a reprimand, but Death looked proud.

“…You’ve put one in my hair.”

“Yes, well, to be honest I’m never really quite sure if you’re a man.”

He didn’t mistake Death chuckling at that.

“I’m never quite sure of that myself, either. I find it tends to change with the wind," And Death got Rudolf to chuckle in return. "So, tell me,” He leaned forward and got that glint in his eyes as if he’d just spotted an opportunity to gain something, some new piece of information or emotion. “Is it wrong for me to be wearing it? Or are you seeing me as a pretty woman to be admired by your masculine gaze?”

Rudolf could feel his face heating up.

“Or perhaps, my dear prince, you don’t think it’s only women who should be admired?” Rudolf tried to pull his hands back, but Death had a firm grip on them. “It’s alright, it’s quite alright. I’m truly flattered. And, let me tell you this because I think you need to hear it, it’s perfectly normal. There’s nothing wrong with it. Your grandmother’s opinions on the other hand… Who is she to say what you can and cannot wear? My future emperor,” Death reached out with his gloveless hand and brushed his fingers over Rudolf’s cheek and he shivered. “Only you are in charge of what you do, how you choose to dress, and who you choose to be.”

He held Death's gaze for what felt like an eternity. Everything seemed to be waltzing around them as they themselves where held captive in their own dance, twirling as the world fell down around them.

Death seemed like he was waiting for something. Rudolf sat, frozen, and Death retracted his hand.

"I think you'd look rather fetching..." Death murmured as if talking to himself, but well aware that Rudolf could hear him. His fingers skated over the flowers standing proud from the ground, ghosting over them but never touching. The flowers almost seemed to bend out of his way, as if they knew who he was, what he could do.

Their eyes met with a challenge in Death's that said 'pick one'. Rudolf's hands moved blindly as he wrapped his fingers against what he hoped was a flower and tugged. He'd thought his hands had been shaking when he tucked one behind Death's ear, but it was nothing compared to how much they were quivering now.

"Will you...?" Rudolf held his hands forward and Death hesitated for a moment, fingers twitching. Was there a reason why he hadn't just picked one himself and placed it in Rudolf's hair? Rudolf knew what Death's kiss could do, and he'd wondered if the reason Death wore gloves was the same. But he'd just been touching Rudolf, and he was still alive.

Death's eyes flickered between the flower and Rudolf's eyes, before he leaned forwards. He picked the flower up carefully by its stem and slid his finger and thumb together, causing the flower to twirl around. He watched it with a curiosity Rudolf would have described as 'child-like' if it wasn't Death he was trying to describe.

He was almost mesmerised by the spinning of the flower that he almost didn't notice it at first. The flower was drooping ever so slightly. He thought perhaps Death's group was just squashing its stem, but it seemed to keep drooping and drooping. Death moved his hand and Rudolf followed with his eyes as the flower was drawn up to Death's face.

White petals brushed over cold lips.

The flower yielded.

It furled in on itself and faded, the top of the stem turning a pale, rusted brown. Death's hand moved and Rudolf was amazed that the petals didn't fall out. Perhaps somehow Death was keeping them in there? Rudolf expected cold brush against his ear, but none came. Death was still moving, picking and plucking more flowers, and as he wove them together they cried out and wilted. He closed up the chain and held it up, inspecting it, before shifting his gaze back to Rudolf.

Death raised himself up into his knees and placed the circle dead flowers on Rudolf's head.

"There," Death said. "A crown fit for an emperor. My emperor."

There was a sound like the ghost of a snapping branch and Death turned his head.

And then he was gone, and Rudolf was alone, frozen as the petals started to fall from his head.

#elisabeth das musical #der tod #elisabeth the musical #elisabeth musical #todolf #crown prince rudolf #mywriting #mine

16 notes · View notes