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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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Since the finale aired, I’ve been yammering on about how it would’ve only worked as a finale to s2, and now that I’m actually rewatching s2, I stand by that even more staunchly. The finale doesn’t work in a post-s2 supernatural universe.

This is the version of Dean we saw in the finale-- the one whose only mission in life was to Save Sammy, to help him get his revenge and allow him to go out and live a Normal Safe Life pretending that hunting and monsters don’t exist. The one who just wanted some pie, to drive his car, and had no real connections beyond Sam in the world outside of Bobby. Even Dean’s characterization in the finale is this far younger Dean who’d never allowed himself to crack open and truly understand love. It would take me years to plow through everything I’ve ever written about him as a character and his long struggle to emotional maturity we saw evolve over the next 13 years beyond this episode, but the tl;dr will always be “this s2 Dean is the same as the Dean in the finale.”

The goal of s2 was saving SAM from his “destiny,” too. In this era of the show, Dean didn’t have a “destiny” the same way Sam did. The ONLY thing that mattered was freeing Sam from “becoming evil,” and being manipulated into terrible things. What Dean wanted, what he was “destined” for by the narrative was irrelevant, because all of his choices and emotional burdens were tied only to saving Sam. To freeing Sam so he could safely return to his “normal life.” Go back to college, have a family and the white picket fence life.

This was before Dean truly began fighting for HIMSELF. Which only really and truly began after he sells his soul to resurrect Sam. That’s when Dean truly begins fighting for himself. Sure, he’s angry with John during s2 for trading his own life for Dean’s, for putting the burden of “if you can’t save Sam, you’ll have to kill him” on his shoulders with his dying breath, but Dean is still fighting against John’s authority and the complicated tangle of feelings of his own childhood and not actually coming to terms with his own wants and needs and wishes out beyond that yet. He’s still unwittingly confronting the “destiny” John had set up for him, and hasn’t moved beyond that yet. It’s only trading his soul for Sam’s that finally brings Dean into the cosmic narrative that will fuel his introspection and personal growth for the rest of the series.

And out beyond that point, his entire character arc explodes into orbit.

Dean’s entire character arc in s3 is confronting this very basic fact: he doesn’t deserve to have been sacrificed just to save Sam. He doesn’t deserve that burden, and he does deserve to live. This is the realization he comes to before eventually being dragged to Hell and then rescued by an angel, who literally tells him, “you don’t think you deserve to be saved” in the aftermath of that. From that point on, we have TWELVE SEASONS of Dean struggling with what he “deserves” versus what is “fate” and “destiny” and eventually confronting what he WANTS if he truly could choose his own destiny.

Plus, out beyond that point, he has Cas. And nothing changes Dean, pushes him to grow and understand himself, and accept himself-- all of himself, from the good to the horrific-- than the pure and unflinching acceptance of Castiel. Cas never looked at him and said “you are evil,” or “you are worthless.” (well, they’ve both said some pretty awful stuff to each other over the years, but there was either brainwashing or other deeper issues pushing those things on them, and they have ALWAYS eventually come back to one another, and the awful stuff was dealt with). Point is, Dean and Cas both began running these parallel arcs of duty versus desire, and for Dean, the duty was always framed around “taking care of Sam” versus pursuing any sort of ambition or goals for himself. They would fight for this for most of the rest of the series, until eventually the goal for ALL of them would be about discovering what they would want for themselves.

The show explicitly dealt with this, repeatedly, over later seasons, asking all of the characters the big questions: is this what you would choose for yourself? What WOULD you choose for yourself if you could?

And then they made the narrative of the final season, of the final Big Bad, the fact that they had NEVER had real freedom, and that their entire lives (and the entire history of not only this universe but every parallel universe) had been Chuck’s Puppet Theater, and true free will had been a lie all this time. Pushing all of the characters to confront their own choices and understand what about who they were as people was separate from what Chuck pushed them into choosing and doing all these years. The main thing that Dean (and also Cas, and to the extent she was included in the narrative this was Eileen’s issue as well) were being pushed to come to terms with what really was real, and were their feelings and choices their own or imposed on them for the furtherance of Chuck’s story.

At the end of the road, finally free and out from under Chuck’s control, they knew what was real. For Sam and Eileen, they had chosen each other. Cas had chosen Dean, but Dean hadn’t yet had a chance to reply, but anyone with two eyes and a brain knows what he would’ve said in return. It’s what Cas stopped him from saying even back in Purgatory in 15.09. And yet, for some reason Sam and Dean forgot all of that, as if none of it had ever even really happened at all, and we went right back to who they were right after they finally defeated the YED, before we even knew Azazel had a name, let alone the fact that the ultimate boogeyman of their entire lives to that point had been nothing more than a fanatic pawn in a much larger destiny for both of them.

The end of s2 was the last time Dean sacrificing himself so Sam could have a normal life, where Dean really felt there was nothing more for himself than fulfilling his father’s orders to save Sammy, even feels remotely plausible. It’s the last time we can feel like Dean might find peace and contentment in a Heaven where John is nearby to be proud of him, and where Dean would actually feel like that validation was even relevant to his own life.

And that finally brings me back to s2, where that was actually addressed through John’s self-sacrifice to save Dean, to serve Dean up to the narrative and provide a stage for this self-transformative journey INTO being a version of John himself. Only... Dean DOESN’T choose that. He fights to save Sam at all costs, even when it seems clear that the right answer would probably be to KILL Sam instead. When not only the ghost of John Winchester plaguing Dean’s mind would make him doubt his own drive to save his brother, but the John Winchester Insert Character of s2-- Gordon Walker-- basically put Dean’s own doubts out there in plain words in 2.10:

GORDON: I'm surprised at you, Dean. Getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours and, uh, you had little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was going to turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?

DEAN: That's not Sam.

GORDON: Yes it is. You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing. It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?

This, the episode where Dean finally confesses John’s final orders to Sam, where Dean has decided that saving Sam is all that matters, even when circumstance and everyone else is practically screaming at him that this could all be over if only he gave in-- be it his own self-sacrifice OR killing Sam. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, the universe doesn’t care (and neither does Chuck... especially at this point... and the proof of that is Sam’s s15 nightmares where one of Chuck’s alternate universe endings for Sam and Dean was Sam actually going Darkside on demon blood and killing Dean... any iteration of the old drama, Chuck has explored all potential endings-- oh, except the ending where TFW gets to just be happy and live... that’s the one ending they never get and the only one they deserved in the end).

also from 2.10... loads of chat about “destiny” and one of Dean’s first “we should just lay all this shit down and take a vacation” moments when he suggests they go to Amsterdam and enjoy some of the not-coffee-coffee-shops, which Sam counters by doubling down on the fact that Dean has a destiny in all this as much as Sam does:

SAM: Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do.

DEAN: Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap.

SAM: You mean you don't believe in my destiny.

DEAN: Yeah, whatever.

SAM: Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me.

DEAN: I can try.

And that’s it, right there. This is the “neither of you can try for a normal life outside of the other while the other is still alive.” This is Sam pinning a destiny to Dean that’s just as inescapable within Chuck’s narrative as Sam’s demon blood and psychic powers.

This is the core essence of Chuck’s story about them. The sibling dynamic that Chuck failed to free himself from, and that Sam and Dean failed to free themselves from after Chuck’s demise in 15.19.

Destiny. One must die so the other can live.

And considering the next 13 seasons of the show and the long and emotionally grueling character arcs Sam and Dean proceed through where they truly confront the core of who they are as people-- as individuals outside of their duty and destiny-- the finale ceases to make any sense outside of Chuck’s narrative for them. If 15.20 really happened exactly as we saw it on screen, then Chuck still won.

And they had to loop Sam and Dean all the way back to where they were emotionally at the end of s2 in order to make it seem plausible. Which, for those of us who actually care about what they endured after s2, makes the finale entirely implausible as a whole.

#spn 2.10 #spn 15.20 #spiders georg of the tnt loop #while i was writing this up i also watched 2.11 and yep... still holds up #the ghost of john winchester #chuck's process

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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 3 years

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There and Back Again: Going back home

My hometown is a lot bigger than the place I currently live in and it's not just bigger in population, it's spread out it sprawls from miles but there's nothing there. There is nothing but street after street and miles and miles of abandoned, boarded-up, and decaying buildings. All of them are relics of a time when the oil field was booming and people actually stayed and made families there.

The oilfield picked up in the 2010’a again, but no one seemed to put down roots. They chase the money, leaving homes, pets, and friends scattered in their wake. There are hundreds of abandoned auto garages, abandoned wholesale dealers, empty boarded-up motels, theaters and stores, parks where no one plays in anymore.

This is nothing new. When I was a child and Mom would drive up 2nd Street to my grandmother's house, we would pass this old garage. At one time it was called the Elite but all the letters had been worn off of the name painted on the side, so the only thing visible was E,l, t,e. For 40 years I thought it was the El Te garage, before going back and reconciling what was left of the sign with my childhood memories.

The place where my grandmother's house used to be is overgrown with willow trees-- or what look like willow trees at 45 mph. Nature has completely reclaimed it and you could not tell any buildings were ever there.

That's another thing I was astounded at: how much greener the place looked than the last few times I came there. The area I live in now is baked to a cruise after osp with a few scraggly weeds breaking through the dried cracked up soil. In my hometown I passed houses with yards full of deep green grass.

There is a sadness that falls on me like a damp blanket whenever I come and whenever I leave again. Like a young person committing suicide, my town had so much potential. but it gave up and died.

But to the untrained eye, my hometown, while abandoned, is absolutely verdant.

The They Call Me Big Deuce EP, the solo effort from a rather young rapper who’d founded HollywoodUndead, is the perfect soundtrack for any time I go back. The inner-city rap stuff goes well with the sprawling squalor and squandered potential that permeates the air.

Yes, my hometown is like a young girl that dies at her own hands during puberty: glorious potential and beauty forever lost with only memories and relics remaining. It is a harbinger that consumes whole families like my sister Terri’: her husband and daughter committing suicide 15 years apart, and in the meantime she loses weight, sanity, lung function and the will to live. Her meth addicted, ex-convict youngest daughter left to carry on alone, causing everyone, including herself, to wonder why out of everyone, she survived.

My sister’s death lives in the majority of the lyrics of that album. Highway 87 runs the length of town from the turn off outside of town that leads to the house I grew up in, to the business my grandfather built and left to my father,that died with me when I left town in search of something better, and finally running out of town and past the cemetery where Mom, Dad, my paternal grandparents, and my beloved niece LeAnn are all buried. I would dive the length of that highway from end to end screaming out the lyrics of Sometimes at the top of my lungs, as full of angst and confusion at 45 as I ever was at 15.

Sometimes I feel like I'm falling in this mes Somehow I still feel so upset Sometimes I feel like the world was gonna end Somehow I feel like i was wrong

There is FM 700 that goes around the past the hospital where my mom and sister died, where I would spend a week with pneumonia right after Terri’s death, laying naked under that crappy hospital gown, tubes running everywhere, too weak to even use the restroom on my own with the lyrics:I took my whole fan base back, I managed to get myself back up, Back to rappin' looped in a never ending stream through my head until I was able to be released.

FM 700 also took me to my first teaching job at, what 30 years previous had been the best school in town, but now was deep in the hood. It took a good 7-8 minutes to traverse the town every morning and the song I chose to fortify myself with as Blood on my Hands.

I got blood on my hands And these streets keep gettin' colder But I won't stop for nothing, no Forty four, man, tuck them gone There's blood on my hands And these streets keep gettin' colder But this time it's me and Truth, we gettin' down Cause in the land of the deaI wear the crown

I would come screeching into the parking lot at 7:15 am, my baby gangsta rap mixing with the hardcore rap booming from the cars of tattooed, packing, gang member, drug addict and dealer parents, screaming and cussing at their kids among the cacophony of rape, robbery and murder coming from everyone else’s speakers. My HHR pumping out Deuce seemed positively quaint.

After work I would start to unwind with the Foo Fighters and I would cruise down 3rd street as far as it would go,then turn around and come back up 3rd, turning on to the North Side where I would eat dinner at the Spanish Inn and then cruise 87 again, this time listening to Breaking Through, trying to remember every time over the last 40 years that Terri and I had hung out, and how she and her daughter LeAnn were the only two people who ever had my back for so many years. But most of the time grief clogged the pipeline of my memories, and all I could do was roll the windows down, throw my head back and sing:

Fight, fight with me We'll make it through, through again now I see Where I'm gone Gone to find my home Lonely Crawling through these dark walls Finding hope if hope still existsF But I can see the things you put me through I felt this way, I felt this way for so long And all the pain I felt in this life Gone in this

Five years later as I write this, I still feel it all.

My sister has no grave. She was cremated and who knows what was done with her ashes. I leave town with one more drive down 3rd street. I take one more look at Lou’s Bar, drive past the pile of rubble I always called the El Te garage, the huge building with washed burgundy paint where you can still make out the words STEREO WAREHOUSE, the old skating rink, the rock house where my best friend used to live. When I was a child across from Mimi’s house was a huge, green piece of land rimmed by a bright white fence. Outside was a sign with a Hereford cow painted on it. Five years ago, when I left town, the fence was still there, the sign was faded and there was a Confederate flag waving defiantly in the wind. When I left this time,there was nothing there but mesquite trees.

You would think it would be liberating to take to I-20 West, and watch my hometown disappear in the rearview mirror. Leaving feels as sad and empty as arriving does. I am leaving a handful of friends, many graves, ghosts and memories. and my niece, whom for better or worse i mos the last connection to my mom and sister.

The End

#essay #home #family #Deuce #travel #going home #death #loss #grieving #abandoned #west texas #spilled ink #Call Me Big Deuce

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masquerade-story · 3 years

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Chapter 4 - Memories

Lillian awoke late into the evening, after everyone collectively agreed to take a nap and process everything Crystal told them. Her throat was dry and scratchy, so she carefully rolled out of bed to avoid disturbing Grey, who'd crawled into her bed for comfort like he always did when he was upset, and padded quietly out of the bedroom.

Since there wasn't going to be any sort of heating bill, they'd left the mysteriously working heater on to combat the unexpectedly cold weather. Lillian stopped by a window to peek outside, and was momentarily startled when she could pick out individual leaves on distant trees.

"Right, our vision got all fancy." Lillian laughed softly at herself, turning her gaze from the trees to the starry sky.

An unfamiliar sky.

Three moons scattered across the horizon, a couple of planets close enough for their rings to be distinct to the naked eye, and a brilliant aurora ribbon streaming across more stars than Lillian ever remembered seeing when she looked up back on Earth.

"There's no North Star," she whispered to herself, her warm breath briefly melting some frost on the window glass. "Different constellations, different horoscopes... I wonder how long a year is here? Or a season? Can we... Even communicate with people to find out?"

An oppressive sense of loneliness settled in her chest. Lillian blinked back a few tears and turned away from the window, resuming her earlier mission of a glass of juice. She slipped downstairs into the kitchen, drank an entire glass, and went to bring her second cup upstairs in case she woke up again, when a soft sound caused her to pause mid-step toward the stairs.

Sobbing. Wretched, mournful sobbing, from the living room which currently had no light on.

Lillian felt her heart clench in sympathy, and changed route.

Rayne sat on the couch, curled into the corner with a blanket around her shoulders and a phone in her hands. She glanced up when Lillian approached, hurriedly dashing her tears with the corner of the blanket. "H-hey, what's up?"

Lillian had the sense to put her juice cup down on an end table before sitting heavily on the couch, encroaching on Rayne's personal space with reckless abandon. "I was gonna ask you the same thing. Why are you down here alone in the dark?"

"Oh, I..." Rayne muttered, her gaze flicking back to the phone. Lillian glanced down, and saw a photo of Rayne and her boyfriend trying on mouse hats during their trip to Disneyworld. His expression was exasperated, but his affectionate gaze was fixed on Rayne's laughing face.

Rayne locked her screen and set the phone down, but it was too late and she knew it. She retreated further into the warmth of her blanket, faking a shiver to cover the fact she was trying to hide her face.

Neither Rayne nor Crystal appreciated it when other people saw them cry, but Lillian knew that it was sometimes exactly what someone needed, whether they wanted it or not. So she leaned on Rayne's shoulder, resting a gentle hand on the other woman's knee.

"You know," Lillian said softly, closing her eyes. "There's three moons."

Rayne was quiet for a moment. Then she sniffled, before whispering: "Really?"

"Yeah. And some ringed planets, and an aurora. Wanna see?"

The bundle of blanket shook in a hesitant nod, and both Lillian and Rayne moved to sit on the window seat overlooking the front yard, keeping throw pillows between them and the frozen glass to seal in their bodily warmth.

Silence stretched on between them as they stared together at the foreign night sky. Whenever Rayne gave a soft cry or pained whimper, Lillian reached over to squeeze her hand without turning to look at her, giving the other woman a measure of privacy while still providing comfort until she was ready to talk.

"It's unfair," Rayne whispered finally, reaching out of the blanket to draw a frowning face on the frosty glass.

Lillian nodded. "It ate our bonds so they all forgot us, but we still have to remember them? It's totally unfair."

"Actually..." Rayne looked over, locking gazes with Lillian, her dark brow furrowed. "That's the thing. Lils, do you remember your parents?"

"Of course. Robin and Larry-"

"Their faces, Lils."

Lillian opened her mouth, then immediately shut it. Her curious expression turned to one of realization, then panic suffused with horror. "No, I... What...?"

"I don't remember his face if I'm not looking at the photo," Rayne said, crossing her arms tightly under the blanket. "I don't remember his voice anymore. I did at first, but... Every passing moment, it's harder to remember the times we shared. The bad, the good. Even while looking at the photos! And I just... I felt like I should have a good cry, while I still felt enough lingering emotion for him to do it."

Lillian felt as though her heart was caught in her throat. She swallowed, swallowed again, then wheezed as she tried to remember how to breathe. Rayne hurriedly wrapped her arms around Lillian's shoulder, squeezing tight in a hug that contained all her comfort and sympathy.

"We'll do everything we can to remember, them, okay?" Rayne whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "Let's go wake Grey and Crystal, then we can all start writing stuff down. Alright?"

Nodding, Lillian clung desperately to Rayne's hand as they both hurried upstairs, rolling their respective siblings out of bed for an emergency meeting. Grey's horror was contrasted starkly by Crystal's numb nodding, as she apologized for not realizing it would happen. They dug into the boxes of personal belongings, finding some notebooks and pens, and sat together in the master bedrooms writing down everything they remembered about Earth and their loved ones until well into the next morning.

"On the one hand it's a mercy," Grey said sleepily, as he doodled another picture of his parents in the margins of his notebook. "So we won't be grieving our loss very long, I guess? But it still feels..."

"Wrong," Lillian mumbled, looking through her phone for a picture of her cat to use as a reference.

"It's not like the time was wasted," Rayne said, adding another bullet point to the list she was writing. "Our experiences shaped who we are whether we remember them or not. It does feel pretty crappy, though..."

"I wonder, will they forget us like this?" Lillian asked, unable to stop the words in her heart from escaping. Her hand paused above the page, the pen in her hand shaking violently. "Will they just... Slowly forget us? Or was it sudden and merciful? Because this... This is cruel."

"Cruelty implies intention," Crystal said softly, her voice shaking almost as much as Lillian's pen. "That... Thing. The Eater. It didn't have any malice, it was just hungry. But I dunno if that makes things better or worse..."

"I dunno man, you ever seen a cat catching prey? Pretty sure eating something alive has some inherent malice in it." Grey grumbled, trying to force his chicken scratch handwriting into something legible.

Crystal, who'd already given up on her own handwriting and embraced the chaotic glyphic nature of her lettering, nodded sagely in agreement. "That's true. I got the impression the Eater wasn't exactly sentient or sapient though. More like a force than a being, if that makes sense? Or maybe I just can't conceive of it, since that thing exists outside our dimensions of understanding."

"You say that so easily, do you even know how wild that whole statement was?"

"Do you even know how wild this whole situation is?"

"Look, we've passed absurdity at this point. Now I'm just down with whatever weirdness comes our way."

"We don't have to pay bills anymore," Rayne said slowly, staring at her paper. Her handwriting was the neatest by far, and she'd finished writing down most important events she could think of, but she kept having a nagging feeling she'd left something out so she kept reading the pages over and over hoping to trigger another memory. "We won't have to buy groceries unless there's things we want specifically that wasn't in our house to begin with. The electricity will never go out, damage to the property will be repaired, and even though we're in a new world with unknown levels of development and technology, we will never have to worry about toilet paper. In exchange for a very comfortable standard of living, we lost our connection to our home and families."

"Personally speaking I think it's fair," Crystal said with a scoff. "But that's because our family sucks so I'll be glad to forget them. All my most important people are here with me! I know Robin and Larry will take good care of all our cats, my exes all sucked, and my other friends will get along just fine without me. I don't have anyone to worry about, just regrets for stuff I never got to do. Like visiting the Grand Canyon, or going on a long cruise."

"I wanted to hike around Europe someday..." Rayne said wistfully.

"I wanted to vacation in the tropics. Or maybe Spain? For like, two years. With some hot guys and infinite fruity alcohols." Grey said, staring off into space with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"I wanted to be famous enough for us to visit the space station," Lillian sighed. Grey snorted, and everyone started laughing in a combination of absurdity and delirium from lack of sleep. They started listing everything they could think of, starting with shopping sprees and game show appearances, and ending with complex bank and casino heists to dismantle capitalism.

When Crystal started dozing off while sitting up, they all agreed to get some sleep for real. The notebooks were stacked lovingly on one of the end tables, which reminded Lillian to run downstairs and chug her long-forgotten cup of juice in the living room before trudging back upstairs into bed.

------

"We can't just stay in the house forever, right?" Grey muttered as he stared out the living room window later that night, curled up on the window seat with his knees hugged to his chest.

"Technically we could," Rayne said, drumming her fingers against the recliner arm as she waited for her laptop to boot. "Infinite food and basic supplies, stuff for our hobbies... We have our instruments, we have our computers and game consoles and several external drives worth of movies and books and music since you and Crystal obsessively insist on collecting or hoarding anything of interest for later use."

"Hey, hey." Grey wagged a finger and feigned an offended scowl. "Look at our situation. How bored would we be if the two of us didn't hoard everything? In fact, maybe our desire to hoard entertainment was preparing for this day!"

"Damn psychics always preparing for everything they couldn't possibly know about," Rayne muttered rebelliously, and Crystal laughed. She'd stretched out on half of the corner couch taking up an entire section of the living room by itself, looking cozy with a pile of blankets and her special edition Switch.

"It's only gonna get worse from here, Ray."

"Open your town, I need to sell my oranges," Lillian interrupted, nudging Crystal's feet from her spot on the other side of the corner couch.

"Alright, lemme finish making this waterfall first."

"Your villagers are never gonna have scurvy again for like, three generations."

"That many oranges? Isn't that a bit overkill?"

"If they don't want an entire island nation's agricultural sector's worth of citrus they should learn to adjust their economy for inflation."

"You know the shop is run by literal children, right?"

"It's good to learn early that nepotism leads to ruin. The business world is harsh and so am I."

Rayne chuckled at the sound of Lillian's low, malicious cackling, but her expression swiftly turned serious. "What do you mean it's gonna get worse, Coco?"

"All four of us have abilities for real, right? Being in this world is gonna make them grow exponentially, whether we try to train them or not. New ones will pop up too, or existing ones will change a little as they grow. Okay Lils, gate's open." Crystal spoke nonchalantly, but every word drained a bit more color from Rayne's face. Meanwhile, Grey turned away from the window with an excited glint in his eyes.

"So psychic powers can get real strong in this world?"

"Yeah. The impression I got when we were coming over was... Magic exists here, and it's something anyone can learn to use with practice. But abilities like ours, psychic powers? Those you have to be born with, and it's rare. That's about as much as I know about it though," Crystal sighed and shrugged.

"Can you list everything you know about our situation?" Rayne said, opening a new document on her computer and typing away with her nose inches from the laptop screen. "I wanna write it all down. I got the thing about our bonds and memories, and the house being indestructible-"

"It's not indestructible, just protected." Crystal seemed startled as soon as the words left her mouth, as though the information was somehow new. She furrowed her brow, nose wrinkling as she carefully examined her thought process. "I see, protected... Like a barrier, almost? It'll always rebuild itself and restock supplies overnight no matter what happens, even if it's all burnt to ash, but the property itself is also shielded unless we draw attention from a big threat."

"A big threat? Like what?"

"I don't know. Big animals like those Nessies on the beach yesterday. Or monsters like the Eater, maybe?"

"Monsters?!" Lillian sat up straight, pulling her feet under her body. "There's monsters!?"

"There's magic, why wouldn't there be monsters too?" Grey pointed out, but his twin just stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's just an assumption," Crystal hurriedly explained. "For my power to work, I'd have to come into contact with stuff related to what I want to know about in order to get more information, I can't just pull stuff out of the ether whenever I have questions!"

"Then how do you know what you know already?"

"Well, we were in contact with the house. The house is made with really powerful magic, so I learned magic exists, and that it was used to make the house echo and ensure our supplies remain the same. I think I also learned about the barrier then, but didn't think about it or really absorb the info cuz I was thinking about other things, so it only just popped up." Crystal shrugged and let out a half-hearted laugh.

"What about the Eater?"

"The Eater was menacing us directly and I looked at it so I was able to get some info on it and the bond-eating shenanigan, but not much else because it's way stronger than me, I think? And my power activated as soon as we started our... Transfer, I guess? Away from Earth. And you all were in the room with me, so I knew you all had powers as well as myself, got the basic gist of how mine work, and that we'd all get much stronger whether we wanted to or not. That's really about it for what I know. I told you it wasn't much."

"Why the house though?" Rayne muttered. "It just wanted to eat our bonds and it did that. So why did it drop us on another planet, and why give us this cushy house echo thing?"

Crystal shrugged again. "I honestly have no idea. I think I could know if I got a lot stronger, but... That won't be any time soon. I can tell there's a reason, though. I just dunno what."

"Maybe it's compensation?" Grey said, his expression hopeful.

"Or bait, like a beacon, so it can find us again..." Lillian whispered with a shiver, and everyone's faces fell. Seeing their reactions, she hurriedly straightened her spine and forced a smile to her face. "But it didn't hurt us, and we're all still together. Imagine if we'd been flung to different planets instead of staying together!"

"That'd really suck," Grey agreed. "So like, Crystal, your power activates if you come into contact with stuff?"

"I think so. I'd have to test it to get the hang of how things work, precisely."

Grey chuckled, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. His expression made the three women exchange worried glances, especially once he started rubbing his hands together like a two-bit cartoon villain. "Looks like we got ourselves an excuse to head to that town for some reconnaissance!"

"In the snow?" Rayne asked, raising her eyebrows.

"With only summer clothes in our wardrobes," Crystal pointed out.

"We wore hiking boots for the walk up here so that'd be fine, but the warmest clothes we have right now are..." Lillian trailed off, then suddenly doubled over and started giggling.

Realization dawned on the others soon after, and Rayne covered her face with her hands. "Oh no."

"Oh yes!" Grey hissed, pumping his fist into the air. "That'll make one heck of an entrance, wouldn't it?"

"Our music video costumes? In PUBLIC!?" Rayne wailed while the others laughed.

"That might not be what we want to do though," Crystal said after her moment of laughter had subsided. "We don't know what kind of world this is. If they'll be friendly to strangers, especially ones who can't speak their language - or any language on this world. They won't know English, you know."

"But do we really have a choice?" Lillian asked, putting down her console and staring up at the ceiling. "We don't know anything about this world. About magic, except that it exists. About the people. And hiding here in our safe cozy house will be fine short term, but what about long term? Are we gonna spend our whole lives holed up in here?"

"I, for one, embrace the forest witch hermit lifestyle," Grey said. "And I know Crystal does too."

"Sure do. Cottage life."

Rayne sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't wanna be caught completely off guard by whatever nonsense comes our way. We know it's winter, but we don't know what the other seasons are like yet. What if they have a raining magma and diamonds from the sky season? We can't apply Earth logic here! Or if we can, we don't know to what extent! There were dinosaurs on the beach!"

"That's a fair point. There were indeed dinosaurs on the beach. Counter points?"

"There were dinosaurs on the beach."

"A fair counter point as well. I do want to see the dinosaurs up close."

"From a safe distance."

"Up close from a safe distance, of course."

"Plus, we don't know what's gonna happen with our powers. You said they'll get stronger, what does that mean?"

"I don't know. More powers will manifest, I think? And the ones we have already will be more potent. But I don't know how potent, or what exactly will happen."

"Exactly! You psychically downloaded only a little info about our situation and it gave you a nasty seizure! Right?"

"Pretty much."

"So what if something worse happens? A big huge infodump? If you can't control your powers, or shut it off when needed or whatever, what if..." Rayne's shoulders sagged.

"What if I have a big seizure every time I use my powers now?" Crystal finished, a wry smile on her face. "Yeah, I was wondering about that too. Honestly, everything about our situation has me so terrified I've circled back around to just feeling numb about it all."

"That's a hell of a mood," Grey sighed, stretching out on the window seat and propping his feet up against the wall. "Everything's happening so much, am I right? It's hard to be freaked out about everything simultaneously. It's easier to just phase out of existence, mentally speaking."

"I... Have an idea."

Everyone turned to look at Lillian, who sat perched on the edge of the couch. She glanced at all their faces, then offered a shy smile.

"Well? What's your idea, sis?" Grey encouraged, when his sister kept fidgeting in place instead of finishing her thought.

"Well, those warmer clothes we have... They're our costumes, right? And Crystal said we dunno how people would react to that sort of outfit, or to strangers in general, but what if... I mean... We have our instruments? What if... We pretended to be minstrels?"

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

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piccolina-mina · 4 years

Text

The Misadventures of Mischief & Mayhem

Show: Roswell, New Mexico

Characters: Michael Guerin, Maria DeLuca

Pairing: Miluca/Marichael

A/N: A previously unpublished story from the archives. One-shot. Random rambles. Takes place somewhere in s1 after Songs About Texas. It’s … whatever. Enjoy, or not. To each their own.

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"I hope you can dance, Deluca,“ he shouted over his shoulder, not wanting to risk taking his eyes off of the mob of cousin-f*cking, backwoods rednecks and wannabe cowboys advancing on them.

"I can get down if I have to.” Maria’s voice was like steel to anyone in the vicinity, but he heard the trepidation, and it killed him.

He knew she was likely outnumbered on her end as well when he felt her back press alongside his – her body taut and ready to fight. He could partially smell the adrenaline.

She was so close to him he could feel her exhale as she readied herself for whatever was about to go down. Their bodies melded together – backs slick with sweat as they shifted and moved in sync.

His default was anger; anger was better than the sadness and pain, and maybe he gained a reputation as the volatile one, but it fueled him when necessary.

He hated this. He hated being stuck in a position where he couldn’t protect Maria. He knew DeLuca didn’t need saving, but he protected his people, and the dread he felt at the mere thought of not getting her out of that bar without a scratch was unlike anything he felt in some time.

His anger was burning hot and searing. He could barely hear anything beyond the buzzing in his ears. The chides and jeering faded away.

“When I’m done wiping the floor with you, I’m going to make your colored bitch put that mouth to better use,” the instigator, some muscled, sweaty brute’s lips curled in a sadistic smile, and it was all Michael needed to see red.

His anger rolled off of him in waves, his jaw clenched from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat; his eyes burned a hole through the drunkard front and center leading the charge.

“Guerin … ” his surname on her lips was a question, a statement, a prayer, and a battle cry all in one. He felt her muscles contract as she took a swing, and his fists clenched as he did the same.

The only sound he didn’t tune out was the unmistakable smack of his fist connecting with the douchebag’s face.

He was a brawler, and his objectives were simple: never lose track of Maria, and get them the hell out of there by any means necessary.

Those were his final thoughts as his world descended into violent chaos.

Several Hours before

“You’re going to really make me get on my knees, DeLuca?”

If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t be caught dead scooting around the Wild Pony on his knees, hat in hand, but he had long since accepted Maria made him do unthinkable things.

“Guerin, I’m busy.” Maria signed off on another shipment and flashed a stunning smile at the delivery man. He promptly ignored the twinge of jealousy over someone else being on the receiving end.

“DeLuuuuca,” he practically whined, as she crossed the room ignoring him as best as she could.

DeLuca,“ he called out again, raising an impressed brow at her commitment. "De–”.

She attempted to flounce past him, but this time he grabbed her hips, stilling her. The heat of her skin burned his fingertips, and he peeked up at her through his lashes.

Maria raised her brow, but the corner of her mouth pulled up in a bemused grin.

“I kind of like you down there; it looks good on you,” she jutted her hip out, placing her hands on her hips above where his rested, but at least she gave him her undivided attention.

“Yeah, I remember,” he teased.

He should have been prepared for the knee to the chest, but he wasn’t and found himself falling back on his haunches.

“C'mon, ‘Luc. I just need you to drive me there to pick up a part. It’s the last part I need to restore this vintage baby out back, and the going price is,” he whistled.

Maria was a survivor like him. She was often hard up and respected the hustle.

“I’m not one to knock a person for securing their bag, but what do I get out of this?”

He exhaled. Once they reached a point of negotiation, he always knew he had her. His heart ached a little when he thought about how behind she was in her payments to the facility she placed Mimi in.

He caught a glimpse of the letter the last time she was poring over her finances; ironically, it was while he was swiping a bottle of booze from behind the bar like a total cad.

He found a way to make it up to her, but he still felt guilty about that.

“Ten percent of the profits,” he offered.

“Twenty,” she countered. “And gas money. I’m being generous.”

“Fifteen, and I’ll tune-up your baby free of charge for the next year.”

She snorted. “You already do that, remember?”

He frowned. She was right. He regularly did whatever mechanical work on her truck on his own dime and time, but it was the least he could do for not paying her for all the booze.

“Fine. Eighteen, and I’ll fix the freezer and the eye on the stove.”

“You already fixed both two weeks ago.” She didn’t bother to hide her smirk that time, and it came equipped with her head canted to the side as she peered down on him only slightly smug.

“Shit.” How the hell did he always end up doing so much for her? The worst part is he never minded, and still didn’t, but it put him in a sticky spot whenever they bartered. “You’re hell on my rep.”

“See a sucker lick it,” she replied sweetly.

He stared at her momentarily dazed his tongue peeking out.

“You promise,” escaped from his lips before he could bite it back. He cleared his throat after an awkward beat and pivoted the conversation. “I know a spot.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t realize how graceless and suggestive it came out until her eyes got a faraway look before she schooled her expression.

He didn’t miss that though.

“A scrap metal spot. Eighteen percent and a side hustle.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, or so he thought, he could never tell with her.

“Deal.”

She stuck her hand out to shake it, and he squeezed tight using her as leverage to hoist himself off the sticky floor.

“Do I need to ask?” She waited for him to read her mind so to speak, and lucky him, he knew where she was headed.

“Trust me, DeLuca. No people or puppies will be hurt by the stripping of this copper. No one will miss it. Certainly no one decent.”

She studied him for a long moment. “I would’ve settled for 12 percent, you know.” It came out smug at first, but then she softened. “I know how hard you worked on that car.”

It was one of the things he liked about her. She was somehow ruthless and soft-hearted at the same time. She needed the money, but she didn’t want to infringe on his profits either.

Haggling was part of their spiel, so they came prepared, but it was her way of making sure she didn’t take too much.

Maria had no idea how much he would sacrifice for her. Even he didn’t understand their thing, but she was his people – somehow, at some point, it just happened, and he didn’t fight it.

Love them or loathe them, he was a self-absorbed bastard, but he always looked out for his people.

“If you plan to get sentimental on me, I will exploit it,” he teased. She rolled her eyes and stormed towards the door to lock up knowing good and well he would be at the heels of her feet.

He always liked driving with DeLuca. It was the main reason he called in a favor in the first place.

Cruising with Maria was pure escapism. It was also when he saw her the most carefree. She laughed and sang, and she drove like she was running away from her problems, and there was no way in hell they’d catch up to her.

She escaped into the open road and wherever it led her, and he escaped into her. It was something simple about that.

Half the time, she forgot he was there at all until he jumped in with the chorus of a song he barely knew the words to, and she laughed uncontrollably at his terrible voice and crappy lyrics.

Some days, he felt like he was drowning, but Maria was like catching a breath.

And there was something refreshing about her never asking him questions.

She didn’t ask much of him, which made him want to share more, so when he directed her to the archeology department of a college campus and had her stay idle in the truck because campus police are a bitch, she only left him with a cryptic, “play nice.”

And when he bolted out a side door with his hat pulled down obscuring his face, an impossibly large box in hand, and a fire alarm blaring loudly, she shot him a puzzled expression but swung the door open.

He jumped inside with the grace of a gazelle, and she sped off before his foot left the pavement – the door swung shut during their hasty escape.

She slowed down as she hit the highway but looked back in the rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind them.

Max or Isobel would have given him hell, and Alex disapproved of his less than lawful pursuits.

“I liked it better when you were speeding,” he broke the silence.

She let out a soft snort. “When you have a body in the trunk, you drive the speed limit.”

“You sound like you speak from experience,” and just like that, he eased them back into their banter. Nope, only Maria would put up with that from him.

“Not yet,” she eyed him and then the box with curiosity. “Day’s still young, though.”

Her smile momentarily dazzled him, and he forgot how to breathe. He admired her restraint; she still hadn’t asked him about the mysterious box that definitely wasn’t a car part he liberated from an establishment with her help.

No one steals car parts from the archaeological wing of a university, but covert space ship pieces? Definitely.

He almost wished she would ask. He knew she suspected something was off – she sensed things, but she never called him out on it. She just gave him the benefit of the doubt in a way no one else did.

If she asked, even once, he would probably take one look at those deep brown eyes and spill it all. It scared the shit out of him.

“Careful, Guerin,” she snuck a look at him before her eyes returned to the road. “You’re going to hurt yourself with all that thinking.”

“You and I both know I don’t do much of that,” he said. He didn’t realize how self-deprecating it sounded until she responded.

“If you were fishing for a compliment, you caught me on a good day because you’re one of the smartest people I know.”

The lump that formed in his throat was unexpected, and the silence that befell them even more so.

“I need a drink,” he said after a while. He googled the nearest watering hole and directed her to it.

She said nothing the whole time, but he couldn’t decipher the inscrutable expression on her face.

They parked some ways away, and he hopped out of the truck to escape the silence – the intensity of it. The intensity of his convoluted feelings for her.

He found the confined space stifling like someone was squeezing the little air left in his lungs, or so he thought, but what did it say about him that he didn’t find his breath again until she was beside him?

Even though it was dusk, the place had a following. They followed the dirt road to the dilapidated shack of an establishment, and he tipped his hat at her while he held open the grimy door.

It smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke, a scent he was all too familiar with, and he rolled his eyes and swore under his breath at the rebel flag proudly taking up an entire wall over the bar.

Maria merely shrugged. “It’s Texas,” she sighed with a weariness he never thought about.

She shimmied her way to the bartender, and he appreciated the view.

“Two whiskeys neat, please,” she said coolly. Her fake smile was frozen in place when long moments later she still hadn’t gotten them.

His confusion morphed into disbelief, then doubt, but she merely raised a brow and motioned for him to order.

The barkeep gave him the drinks lightning quick, and Maria only snorted when the flirty bartender ran her fingers across his hand and smiled at him.

He slid a glass towards Maria, but it didn’t stop his new friend from engaging in small talk that roughly translated that she was down to screw.

“Always drowning in ass, aren’t you, Mikey?” She slid the glass back toward him, reached across the counter, and grabbed the bottle, pouring the two whiskeys she intended for herself.

She ignored the dirty look and exclamation from the bartender, tossed a wad of cash on the counter and disappeared into the crowd.

He tossed his own money down, grabbed his drinks and followed after extricating his hand from that of the overly friendly blond.

He figured Maria was in search of a jukebox, but instead, he found her at the pool table, stick in hand.

A group of guys was looking on, some with the type of interest that made him snarl and others with a disdain that made him worry.

Sure enough, a scruffy looking redhead made his way to the table and had his hand on Maria’s ass before Michael could reach her.

His jaw clenched at the sight, along with his fists, and he reminded himself not to cause a scene of the inhuman variety.

Before he could blink again Maria had kneed small Red to the groin and bent back his finger to the amusement and annoyance of some of his crew.

“Next time it won’t be my knee,” she hissed before releasing him.

Maria DeLuca’s her own damn hero. She could save herself, but he didn’t give a damn.

“Everything OK, babe?” He said, placing his hand to the small of her back while eying the room.

The only sign she gave acknowledging his little display of territorial machismo was a snort.

“Everything is about to be,” she responded, sensing a challenge.

He followed her line of sight and watched as a muscled guy emerged from the huddle of men and grabbed a pool stick of his own.

Michael recognized him as one of the men whose leering was more disdainful than lust.

She tossed him another stick, and they had a loaded conversation in just one look. Maria was a mystery to him, and despite her psychic claims he knew he was to her, but there were certain things of which they spoke the same language.

Their kinship was in what they did to get by – how they survived. No judgment, just mutual respect and understanding.

It’s why they worked so well together. It’s the reason they barely needed to exchange a word with one another in the hours they spent at that pool table.

He felt the tension in the room, and it made him uneasy. However, the money stacked up.

Maria’s way of fighting back against a world of people that saw her as nothing more than scum was to channel her energy into bleeding them dry. She told him it was more productive than wallowing.

He respected the hell out of it and her, but she made too much of a show of it during her last round. He could tell.

Around the time she crowed a “thanks for your business, gentlemen. Now run me my money,” he knew tempers were on the cusp of flaring.

She won, of course. Or rather, they won. The funny thing was the clowns surrounding them probably thought they hustled them when in reality, he and Maria were just that good.

It wasn’t either of their first times at a table. Maria was a shark in more ways than one, and he relied on some betting to feed himself often growing up.

“Bitch!” Their opponent wasn’t taking the loss well, and he hurled the pool stick in a fit of anger as he advanced on Maria.

He stepped in front of her without a second thought. It wasn’t the first time he stepped between a beatdown and made himself the target. But if he didn’t learn anything from those years of bouncing in and out of shitty foster homes, he learned how to fight and how to take a beating.

“Michael …” he felt her warm breath on the back of his neck as she exhaled. He didn’t have the time to unpack the use of his first name or what she was trying to say.

He swiped the stack of cash off the table and palmed it in his hand, not breaking eye contact with the group of men as he walked backward shuffling Maria along with him.

“You stole our money, and if you think we’re letting you leave here with it, you got another thing coming.”

“Oh, now that’s not true and you know it. Don’t be a sore loser, champ,” Michael responded with a smug grin that earned him a pinch from Maria. “Like the lady said, 'thanks for doing business.”

He tilted his hat and turned to leave with Maria’s hand in his. He knew they were in for hell when he heard a whistle.

“God damn assholes,” Maria muttered under her breath. “They’re really doing this.”

Her irritation was unmistakable, and she picked up her step only slowed long enough to twist the arm of some random drunk who grabbed at her.

They made it as far as the bar before Michael stalled as a mob consisting of most of the patrons at the shithole advanced on him.

The bar grew louder by the second as half the members of some biker gang headed in his direction. He swore profusely. There was no way in hell they were getting out there without a fight.

He shouted as much over his shoulder to Maria, and she was resigned to it as well. He mentally filed away her response curious as to how often and in what capacity did she find herself in a brawl.

They shared a look, then a nod before turning back to back and throwing their punches simultaneously. He heard the guy DeLuca hit howl in pain.

He landed another punch with the drunken prick in front of him and grinned when the guy’s nose gushed with blood; he broke it.

Maria groaned, and his smile turned to a grimace. He still felt her at his back, pressed against him, which was a good sign.

“Maria!” He called behind him.

Someone landed a punch to his gut that knocked the wind out of him, and he doubled over for a moment.

“I’m –” she was winded as she ducked a fist and landed a one-two number that sent some guy to his knees and impressed the hell out of him. “I’m fine, just …”

She was poetry in motion, graceful as hell, and he realized she may very well have some experience with this. He made a note to ask her about it later as her foot met the groin of one creep as her fist connected with the chin of another.

He eyed a guy out of his peripheral rushing toward Maria with a clenched fist. He swung his arm out making the guy land hard on his back and pushed him down harder with his boot.

“You were really about to sucker-punch a woman?” Michael growled.

“I haven’t seen a woman yet,” the guy coughed.

Michael didn’t get to respond. The punch to his eye had him seeing stars, and he blindly swung, landing as many punches as he could.

A sickening smack and a grunt that was all Maria had him seeing red again. He stole a glance over his shoulder and was stunned by how many guys she warded off, but he heard her labored breathing.

He growled loud and animalistic as he drove the heel of his palm into someone’s solar plexus, and he sent the guy sprawling out across the floor.

Fuck it; he couldn’t limit his powers if they ever hoped of getting out.

His heart seized in his chest when Maria disappeared from behind him. He reached around, groping at bodies but not finding her.

The distraction was all anyone needed to get the better of him, and he went down hard. Only then did he find Maria on the floor, but damn that woman, she was still fighting like hell.

It was enough. He tapped into his powers and sent multiple guys looming over them sailing across the room – hitting the walls and sliding down.

“DeLuca,” he croaked. He grabbed her hand and hauled her up. “We gotta book it, babe.”

He slung his arm around her waist, ignoring the sharp inhale of breath she took, and they took advantage of the break in the mob and hobbled out the door.

“Guerin!” Maria yanked on his hand to get his attention. “Looks like those cowards called in the calvary.”

He blinked, his left eye made everything blurry. “A new group of people was trudging down the trail laser-focused on them.

"We’ll go around,” she whispered. She pulled him around the back, her hand sweaty and her gait off. They spotted their truck in the distance, but a linked gate stood in their way.

“Make yourself useful, Guerin,” she barked. Her voice was strained without the fire and heat.

He didn’t need to see her to know what she meant. Her foot was in his cupped hands within seconds. Her soft hands burned his skin as she used him to hoist herself up.

His hands were on her ass, pushing her over the gate until she was comfortably straddling it, and she reached out to help him over too.

They dropped to the dirt and gravel around the same time, but he flanked her as they made a run for the truck. Based on the way she ran, he was betting she sprained her ankle.

They ignored the shooting and hollering from behind the gate as some of the mob celebrated running them off, but a few stragglers attempted to climb the gate as they had done.

Maria wasn’t looking, she was too busy clamoring into the truck and swearing when she realized she had climbed in on the passenger side.

He contorted and twisted the gate sending those on it flying toward the dirt.

“Screw it, DeLuca, I got this,” he slid into the driver’s seat and sped down the dirt road still running on adrenaline.

“Easy there, Clyde,” Maria murmured breathlessly.

He smirked at the reference, then winced at the shooting pain in his jaw.

He slowed down, the adrenaline fading and the pain starting to sink in. It hit him that he and Maria barely escaped a full-blown brawl with some rednecks and not like anything at the WP either. This time he was actually scared for …

He jerked the truck over to the side of the road before Maria could so much as protest and flicked the overhead lights so he could see her better.

“Shit, Maria.’ He studied her intently his hand reaching out not knowing where to touch her but needing to. "Are you OK?”

The light was dim, but he saw she had a busted lip. Her tank top was torn and bloody. His expression and his fist clenched around the steering wheel must have given away his inner turmoil.

“It’s not mine,” she said pulling at the tank top that was nothing more than tattered pieces. Her skin was exposed and her bra, but after a tug, she gave up trying to cover herself knowing it was futile, and she was shameless anyhow.

She had a cut on her forehead that fortunately didn’t look too deep, but he couldn’t fully assess the damage.

He unbuttoned his shirt and wiggled out of it handing it to her so she could cover-up.

“Thanks,” she said with a hiss as she struggled to drape it over herself. She pressed against her ribs and grimaced some more. “Yup, those are definitely bruised.”

He could barely contain his rage.

“Cool it, cowboy.” She smiled past her pain, her pearly whites tinged pink from the bloody lip. “You didn’t exactly get away unscathed.”

She pressed against his swollen eye and cringed sympathetically when he winced.

“I’m fine,” she laughed a caustic noise. “I’ll heal.”

“Good to know. Now, what were you thinking?” He heard the severe tone, but he couldn’t be bothered to soften it. He was too keyed up.

“Wha-”

“You were goading them, DeLuca. Those … those–”

“Racist, misogynistic assholes?” She supplied. He squirmed under the weight of her intense stare. “You didn’t know.”

He started the car back up and headed for the gas station further down the highway.

“I mean the rebel flag is usually a dead giveaway for what kind of establishment we were probably dealing with, but you didn’t know. It’s not on you, and I sure as hell won’t take a lecture about instigating anyone from you, Guerin.”

Just like that, she sliced through his guilt and fear like a hot knife through butter.

“I’m not used to you being the one to start trouble,” he muttered, as they pulled into the parking lot.

“I’m off the clock,” she quipped wryly. “I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?”

She grabbed his hat and placed it on her head, pulling the brim down until it covered her eyes and all he could see was that smirk of hers.

Maria gave him whiplash in the best possible way. She always managed to surprise him.

He ducked his head, swallowing back a chuckle, the adrenaline that was coursing through him waning.

“Hell of a scuffle to get into over $300, but you kept me on my toes,” he hopped out of the truck and shut the door. “I’ll go in,” his eyes shot to her tattered t-shirt, lingering a second too long on her breasts for it to be innocent. “You’ll draw more attention then I will.”

She barely heard his last words, too busy snickering and wincing over his error. “Oh, babe,” she emphasized the term of endearment mockingly, clearly recalling his usage earlier. “Three hundred? No, it was $3000.”

She pulled a wad from her bra and peeled off a few bills, handing them to him. “For the supplies,” she ignored his surprised expression, the gravity of what they endured finally hitting her as she laid back against the seat.

It turned out the gas attendant wouldn’t have noticed Maria. The kid barely paid him attention.

Maria was dozing when he got back to the car, and he opted to drive a bit more and pull off the side of the highway into the desert.

He hopped out and opened the truck bed, scattering the bags of first aid kits, snacks, and booze.

“Ah, the essentials,” she said at his side. Of course, he felt her before he even registered that she was really there.

He said nothing as he picked her up without warning and sat her on the bed. He tore the rest of her shirt off of her and shoved the remnants in his back pocket.

Maria had popped the cap off of the bottle of Jack Daniel’s he bought and took a swig. But she shot him a look.

“What?” He sighed gingerly prodding at her ribcage. He didn’t see any visible bruising, but he noted how she winced at his touch, so the area was at the very least tender.

“You’re the reason I can’t find my underwear from that day, aren’t you?” She narrowed her eyes at him assessing.

He activated a couple of cold packs, placing them against her and wrapping an ace bandage carefully around her. She hissed but took another sip, brow raised awaiting a response.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” his hands were resting on her hips, and he practically dared her to challenge him.

Doing that song and dance with Maria was almost as effective as a salve and booze.

“I had no need for your …” he slid his hands down her legs, stopping at her calves as he eased her foot out of her boot. “Black lacy underwear with the purple detailing. Not at all.”

He knelt down and ghosted his fingers across her ankle, noting every movement and verbal response. He proceeded to wrap that up too.

“Perv,” she hissed, flinching and squirming beneath his grip.

“I had to commemorate your poor decision making somehow.”

Her finger pushing a curl out of his face was unexpected, and his eyes met hers with a slight frown.

“You’re really good at this,” she said suddenly, seriously, her voice dropping to a whisper like she was trying to keep this observation a secret between them.

As if the desert wasn’t a keeper of secrets.

“I had a lot of practice,” he slipped. He knew he did. He always did with her. And it scared him shitless.

She let it go, reluctantly he could tell, and he almost wished she didn’t. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he could tell her mind was racing with a dozen things she wasn’t saying.

“You gonna tell me where you learned to fight like that?” He studied her intently.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she responded, looking as closed off as ever.

“I would, that’s why I asked the question.” The snark jumped out, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“You were impressed,” she mused. “Noted. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

She handed him the bottle whiskey and hopped off the truck bed landing on her uninjured foot.

“Your turn,” she ignored his protest and grumbles, and he hopped on the bed in her stead.

The desert air was cool, and he watched the open shirt he loaned her rustle with the wind. He saw barely visible goosebumps across her skin. His nimble fingers buttoned her up while she cleaned up his lip and eye.

He flinched and whined at every turn, and she called him a baby, but he loved it. He loved the way her face scrunched up in concentration, the warmth of her breath against his face, the way she looked up at him, and her eyes were soft and caring beneath the brim of his hat.

His hand reflexively halted her movements after she dabbed alcohol on the cut along his forehead, and she shook her head, leaning further into the slot between his legs to blow on it.

When her eyes met his again, she gave him an arresting smile that made him inexplicably emotional. He turned his away to shake it off, but her soft hand was under his chin, compelling him to meet her eyes again.

“You good?”

The truth was, he couldn’t remember the last time someone cared for him like that, tended to him. Hell, he couldn’t recall the last time he let someone try.

“Good is not an adjective anyone would ever use to describe me, DeLuca,” he winked at her.

“You know you don’t always have to–”

“Snacks? He shoved a cellophane-wrapped package of cupcakes in her hand. "You should eat something. I got sweet, salty, and spicy.”

He bit into a spicy piece of beef jerky and took another swig of whiskey.

Her lips formed a tight line, but she let it go for the moment. He knew she would file it away for later, though.

She used him as leverage as she climbed into the truck bed. She scooted to the back and stretched out looking up at the stars.

He followed suit, unfolding the blanket in the back and throwing it over both of them.

They fell into a comfortable silence outside of the munching and swallowing, as they looked at the stars.

“I didn’t mean to get us into this,” he broke the silence.

“Driving to another state to steal something that definitely isn’t a car part and getting run out of town by an Aryan motorcycle gang after hustling three grand from them? What’s life without a little excitement and adventure?” Her tone was so nonchalant he wanted to laugh.

“I don’t get away from the Wild Pony much. It’s been a thrill,” she continued

“The last time you were out, it was pretty thrilling,” he teased, grabbing the bottle from her for another swig.

The lip of the bottle left her mouth with a pop, and she frowned at the loss and cursed him under her breath.

“Was it, though,” she posed.

“You certainly weren’t complaining. In fact, as I recall you were begging me to do that–”

She shoved a mini doughnut in his mouth, and his eyes lit up with mirth as he chewed and swallowed.

She shivered, removed his hat from her head and placed it beside her.

When she snuggled up to him, wincing along the way, he only pulled her in closer, his chin resting against the top of her head.

The last time they were like that, they were buzzed, and she told him he ran hot like a furnace.

“Desert, dirt, and truck beds, next time we should opt for a hotel room,” she grumbled.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” His tongue peeked out, as he bit back a genuine smile.

“You owe me copper. On that alone, it damn well better be one, but bless your heart for getting your hopes up, Guerin.”

He snorted. “I’d be okay. I can hold my breath well, but you know that already.”

He felt her face burning red hot against his skin. Mission accomplished. He waited for a snappy retort, but she fell silent again.

“So you knew there wasn’t a car part, but you didn’t say anything?” His voice was low and husky, hushed. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“Did you want to tell me?” She whispered.

The long silence was answer enough. She didn’t know how much he grappled with telling her so many things.

“I figured if you really wanted to tell me, you would if you were ready. It’s important enough. Does it affect me?”

She sounded tired. And he tensed because maybe it did and maybe it didn’t.

“If it was important to you, and it didn’t affect me, it’s all I needed to know.”

His eyes stung with emotions he preferred to keep at bay. He sniffled, and she chose to ignore it. He was grateful for that.

He slid the whiskey from her fingers and put the top back on it. He used his foot to bunch the part of the blanket at their feet up as best as he could to make sure her ankle was elevated and pulled the rest snug around her.

He could sense a shift in her mood, but all he could do was ride the wave or wait it out.

“You always take care of me.” Her voice was small, hoarse, nothing above a whisper as if it cost her something to say it – like she trusted him with it but was afraid of how he would respond.

It was wonderous, like the mere thought– the concept was so foreign to her she couldn’t process it.

He recognized it as the thank you that it was.

“You always let me,” he whispered back.

This time when she shuddered, he knew it had nothing to do with the cool desert air.

She yawned, then hissed when the action caused her to ache, a litany of curses spilling from her lips to his utter amusement.

“Next time only call me if you’re robbing a bank,” she grumbled.

He scoffed softly but pressed his lips to her hair so lightly he doubted she could feel it. “Will do, Bonnie.”

“Go to sleep, Clyde,” she mumbled. Her soft snores following.

He didn’t, but she never needed to know that.

#roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #maria deluca #miluca #okay byyyye

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ruwithmeguys · 5 years

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You don't mind if I blabber on about Oliver and his Queen for a bit... do you?

AW THANKS!

I write a LOT of fanfiction. Even when I'm not writing I'm thinking about writing. I haven't even started looking at writing a novel yet BECAUSE Olicity are so freaking vocal in my thoughts right now. The thing I enjoyed about Oliver is that, at the start - at the very beginning when he was a grasshopper, a young man who looked kind of creepy in photos - he's actually a pretty normal guy, for the most part.

Prior to his shipwreck, he's an egotistical, horny, immature, ignorant, naive, manipulative player of a young man. Basically, he's your a-typical jerk who hasn't lived in the world yet or experienced much of anything at all beyond parties and money.

He's also lonely. Desperately lonely.

WHAT? OLLIE QUEEN, WITH HIS MOUNTAIN HIGH NOTCH-POST WAS LONELY? He had a family, Tommy and Laurel. Sara. Raisa. LONELY????

Yup. He was a very lonely boy. And he had zero clue that he was - he just knew there was something wrong with him. A hole inside him, a chasm he didn't know how to fill or close. Even with Tommy, he felt it.

It wasn’t a pleasant hole. It didn’t feel particularly nice. (But I think each of us has it inside if us; each of different strengths and tastes and for many, it transforms into maternal/paternal instincts or passionate drives... for a rare few it becomes something quite different. Oliver is the personification of one of those few).

It was why he didn't give a shit about breaking rules and hearts. Nothing was enough to fill this hole. It's no excuse for doing what he did and he knows that.(Again, it's been a long while since I truly watched prior seasons but I remember that when I did watch, there were a few things that stood out.) But he felt barren of care about it too.

He was a shallow creature. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything but space between his ears: it was what he did with it (or didn’t do) that made him appear so very shallow. He distanced himself with it, made all the worse by how easy it was to be so empty. By how much he was allowed to get away with:

his mother loved him unconditionally. She knew he was behaving as a cad, but he was also her beautiful boy and could do no wrong. She didn't care that he played around or that he hurt people; she made those people disappear and he probably reminded her a little of Robert (Moira who lived like a woman who believed this kind of behaviour was the norm in men).

Robert loved him the same way. He advised but he never laid down the law, even when it was sorely needed; but this wasn't because of blind love. It was because of guilt, because of his many wrongs that would one day come back to bite his son.

Thea, who was a secluded section of Oliver's universe: he could do no wrong with her.

Laurel, who loved him blindly.

Sara who loved him because he was a shallow mess.

Tommy who was so similar to him.

They only helped enable his character - it wasn’t their fault, wasn’t even his fault; most don’t know who they are when they turn 20 - however unknowing they were. Moira Queen was the worst of it: she applauded his every move, smiled at his transgressions, taught him that he would be forgiven each time, that he would have refuge. It was almost as if she allowed herself to see the innocence of her husband as opposed to the infidelity, the deceit and the sheer insult of his MANY ill doings.

And so on...

Oliver didn't fit in. There's a reason why it was so easy for him to behave in such a self destructive way: yes, he hated himself for not being better, being smarter, being cleaner, being more. He thought he was worthless.

Why can't I stick to education?

Why is it so easy for me to lie?

Why don't I love laurel enough not to cheat?

Why is it so terrifying to even try to be a better man?

Why don’t I want things?

Why don’t I care?

Oliver saw it as being too weak, too bad, too cowardly to strive to be better. But he was afraid of trying and finding nothing there, inside him, worth knowing. He was afraid of himself.

Again, he also felt alone.

He lived the kind of life most dream of, but he didn't feel whole. There was something missing and it troubled him because he had everything? What was so wrong with him that he couldn't hack it even when he was handed everything on a literal silver platter?

Why was he so bored already with his life? Why didn't he care the way he should? Why was it when he was with Tommy and his mother and Laurel - why didn't he feel real with them?

Oliver, by 22, hadn't connected with a single soul; not really. Not truly. Not the way he needed. Sex? That's easy. Giving of thy body is so much easier than connecting with a person on an emotional level and revealing to them everything that you are. He understood physical pleasure very well; emotional satisfaction? It was beyond his reach.

Everything that Ollie believed he was back then wasn't worth knowing.

It was easier to:

Play the field

have fun

not think about troubling things

date his friend because it's the natural progression of friendships with females, right?

cheat

lie

fornicate

act like a dumbass for CNN and WEBG because it was entertaining and made him feel like he was relevant

do absolutely nothing and still receive the kind of unconditional love he knew he didn't deserve

Oh! And let’s not forget-

Go on a pleasure cruise with his girlfriend's sister when said girlfriend starts to talk about moving in together which is the last thing he'd ever want.

Hey! Since I'm a coward, why break the habit of my 22 years when I can just take Sara and let my relationship implode while I'm miles away balls deep in her hotter, more malleable sister who I've been screwing for the past three months behind her back? That way, it'll all be over when I come back and I can just spend the rest of my life avoiding her, feeling a marginal amount of guilt for it.

Golden. Sorted. Nuke planted.

Even Tommy thinks he's a BOSS - dude, screwing both sisters at once?

Even if one's LL?

ESPECIALLY since one's LL. Like no other guy has ever wanted to be in your shoes right now. Sara's HOT. I'm green with envy.

It's the perfect, perfect thing to do. Get out of dodge and let gossip do the hard work. She'll be half over it by the time they return, surely. She's better than he is, emotionally.

She's better altogether.

she's kinder

nicer

smarter

beautiful

a good friend

She's everything he should want but doesn't... he doesn't fit the norm his parents did.

(the norm where you love and marry but don’t quite love enough not to stray over and over again, creating illegitimate children who will feel the fallout in your staid, but Oliver is clueless about his parents)

He doesn't fit in the world LL was planning for them. He doesn't fit LL. He should want her, but he doesn't. The thrill is over; he dated his 'good girl next door' friend and it wasn't bad... but for some reason, it isn't him. She isn't him.

He isn't ANYONE. His identity is the jumped up playboy he's pretended to be over the years; pretended because, there's no joy in it for him. He get as many orgasms as he likes: what he enjoys is the deception. The fact that he can sink as low as he likes. The fact because he’s a rich bad boy, he can get away it.

It’s a game.

He loves her but he always had: she was his friend first after all...

Breaking the rules however? That feels very much him. And what a crappy thing to be feel right about. Being the bad guy feels right. There's no hope for him.

But he can pretend. So he does. He goes onto the Gambit and spends three days in bed with Sara Lance.

Then the ship capsizes. He looses Sara. His father. the boat. Any chance at returning home. Despite what happens over the next five years, it confirms things: he didn't loose them because of any bomb. he lost them because of who he is.

A cheater

Selfish

Manipulative

morally repugnant at his core

capable of dark acts

A bad guy

How else could he do and become the things he did and became over five years if, on the inside, there wasn't something inherently wrong with him?

How else could he kill and maim and plot and scheme and defame and destroy and conceal if it wasn't an extension of the badness within? The sinking of the Gambit simply revealed him for what he is. Slade knew that too. That's why Oliver killed him. To keep that secret, a secret.

There's no hope for Oliver Queen.

He doesn't deserve it.

Hasn't earned it.

His destiny is to sink deeper into the black...

But he accepts his father's last wishes because deep down, Oliver BELIEVES. And hopes. And if he does this, maybe he can be forgiven for what he did: for dooming Sara, for going on the Gambit. For being responsible for his father’s death who wouldn't have killed himself if not for Oliver, it's his fault he (and sara) were ship wrecked, it's his fault shadow died, his fault her father died... if he hadn't been selfish none of it would have happened.

If he hadn't been so rotten at the core, he'd have loved ll enough not to run away.

He wouldn't have corrupted sara

his father would have survived on the island and returned home

his mother wouldn't have lost them both

his sister would have a father

tommy would never know just how dark, how evil his best friend is

Quentin wouldn't hate him, wouldn’t become an alcoholic later

Oliver would never know the monster inside himself

The rest of him can't accept that there's any light at the end of the tunnel so his hope, his belief, is crushed inside a tiny box deep within the brittle rock encased around him. Hope is a bigger killer than self-hate.

Hope is a length of rope to hang himself with: it’s infinitely more terrifying than falling into black.

A cognitive dissonance forms; a fissure. A schism. There's half of him that's formed over the years away - something inside him that always existed - that he cannot accept, half himself he denies the light, denies to look upon. He hides it beneath a hood and calls it his mission, his mask.

But then he's back in Starling and-

FEELINGS, EMOTIONS, THOUGHTS, MEMORIES.

Attack. Attack. Attack.

Expectations. Nagging. Watching.

Love, hate, regret, guilt.

Shut it down. And he does... except he doesn't, because he's not a machine. He wishes he was. He wishes he could simply right his fathers wrongs and disappear forever without feeling a thing about it. But he's human. And humans need things because we're selfish and people were born to be with people. We need and grow and thrive with people.

And so does he.

It's difficult to keep his mask on because he's more human - more kind, gentle, loving, compassionate, selfless, hopeful - than anyone else. And yes, it was cultivated by his years away, but what human hasn't been made aware of the ugly truths of themselves in hindsight? It's 20/20 for a reason.

And LL-

Her hatred feels like relief.

He deserves to feel it, he's earned it and it's proof he exists. Proof he was loved. Proof that there’s SOMETHING to be redeemed. Proof that he was 'Ollie Queen'. A man who doesn't put on a hood to shoot arrows into people. He was once a guy who had a girl and treated her badly.

Then LL forgives him and the relief becomes hope.

Then she takes it away and he's back down the darkest hole. That’s fine. Both feel good. Both are toxic.

He doesn’t have to strive this way...

Not that he understands the wrongness of it all: he has no idea. He thinks relationships work this way; he thinks that people are pushed and pulled and hurt and hurt and hurt- it's like sandpaper over skin. It’s supposed to smart, isn’t it? That means it's real, right? He thought once that love was supposed to be like in the movies, was supposed to be deeper, was supposed to instil great strength in him but he was a fool

There's only LL

Only love he overestimated

only feelings of guilt and regret and shame

care

affection

memories

the past

She hasn't changed at all, except she's.. bitter. Wary. Distrustful. She doesn't smile like she used to, like she was FREE. He did that. He owns it. And she's made him own it, she's thrown at him. It's his fault after all. He should take responsibility. Let her hate him. It's only right.

He hates himself: pile it on. He KNOWS what hate feels like. Understands hate and anger and pain and grief and misery.

His mission comes first anyway, and it's easy to prioritise because it does FIT him. He feels more himself as the Hood than he does as Oliver. There are no lies there. Just the animal. The creature crafted over five years: Except he isn't all knowing and he needs help.

There's a face he remembers, a face he locked away, one he sees dreams sometimes but never acknowledges because it would mean... something. Keep it simple and clean. It just is what it is. A face... that made it easy to breathe.

...wasn't she an IT girl?

Maybe he should see someone else...

Except he's already looked her up because, again, her face stuck with him. A sweet face. A face he could manipulate if needed, right? That's the reason.

It wouldn't be a hardship to charm the information out of her. To flirt and play. Maybe he could date her. Sleep with her if he had to, he could.

Would.

So he walks into her office, willing to go any lengths and only a tad curious about whether his memory is as good at it seems and-

...oh.

Oh hello heart, it's been a while.

Suddenly he's very aware of every breath he's taking, of every thump in his chest. Of the way his lips are curving-

HE'S AWARE.

He's present in a room with a woman who's red lips, who quick wit, who's knowing and pretty blue eyes could keep him awake at night if he let them.

She's... funny. Without trying to be. And it’s genuine rather than forcing on a smile and laughing because he's supposed to. She's quick. Intuitive. Scarily perceptive and his plan to manipulate, coerce and excrete charm goes out of the window.

He's the one charmed. But he's got a job to do so he starts the lie and-

Of course she sees right through it. It was deliberately pathetic for a reason, part of the charm. Part of the manipulation. But it's not a flirtation: he just looks at her and stupidly says the words and he doesn't sound like an idiot. He sounds like he's testing her instead and-

She. Sees. Right. through. His. Bullshit.

He hoped she would, but not like this. I see your lie, but it's fine. I'll help you. You look like you need help.

He drops the fake. And. He. doesn't. care. at. all.

Doesn't even try to fight it.

Trusts it immediately.

Sits down behind her and watches her work... calculates. Plans-

No. He can't have it- it's wrong and indulgent and like sunlight in the dank, darkness of lian yu. He doesn't deserve it. Hasn't earned it-

Though he liked it. Wanted more.

He'd kill her.

Stay away.

And he does... for a while... until he doesn't, can't because INFORMATION.

Convenient.

Would it be so bad to have something, someone in his life that can shine a light? That can make him smile just once before he dies. Wrap her in bubble wrap. Keep her safe. From me. And then he can bring her in, at a respectable distance. One of the world's treasures kept safe by him.

He's no knight but it would be an honour.

He couldn't let her go alone and unsafe in the world NOW. Not now. Not after meeting her. Not after seeing the way her fingers twitch and twirl as her mouth curves around's words that make his mind whirl, that make his world tilt in very nice ways. Something about her lingered with him, always. A marginal comfort. Bringing colour into the dark.

He can look at colour.

He can look at light.

Maybe he'd be brave enough to touch it too. Maybe. one day. If he doesn't die, Which he knows he will so... there’s nothing to fear.

And ONLY if LL can forgive him because-

Because Felicity is so far beyond any of them: better, brighter, purer, kinder, and so much smarter than LL, than anyone... if LL can't have faith in him again, how could anyone as incredible as Felicity Smoak do the same-

Yet she does.

She saves his life, trusting his word when he's given her no reason to. I mean, what can he even do with that? That doesn't compute, he doesn't understand it. But he knew it was true without even giving it voice because he feels the same and how strange that is.

He's so damn thankful for it.

She's... willing.

She saved him. She didn't have to, but she did as he asked.

She knew... she knew he was liar, a killer and she still helped him.

She wants to be in his orbit - actually wants to be near a monster like him

She said only until they found Walter but she stayed...

She remained.

He can keep her.

Like his own personal sun, down in the dark basement. He doesn't deserve it, hasn't earned it... but she seems to think he has. If Felicity Smoak believes he's earned it, then who's he to deny or argue that point? Maybe there's hope yet.

She's good. Right.

She's everything he isn't: there’s a list, he likes it

She's never wrong

Even when she is, she isn't, I can attest to that

She trusts him for some reason

it's terrifyingly easy to trust her back

she slots in like a missing piece

she wants to help people, save people... more than he does.

She's patient with his many weaknesses and issues

he didn't need to explain why he killed people, why 'the violence'; she immediately compartmentalised

she doesn't make him feel like less for his violence, for the holes in his rotten soul

she's harmless

she's the most dangerous person to him, given her vocation... but it doesn't seem to matter

she's so smart, he's in awe of every word out of her mouth

when he isn't in awe, he's tickled

or bashful

or pleased

or puzzled

or grateful

...never guilty

she talks circles around them all and he never tells her how much he enjoys hearing her every word, even as she's flustered

especially when she's flustered

He can keep her close without her being close at all; a source of nourishment from some place far away- and she is.

Far away.

And he seems to start getting his ducks in a row.

Felicity encourages him to help people instead of just targeting names in a book and it feels good. Is this allowed? He's bonding with Thea. his mother FINALLY sees that placing expectations on him won't bring back the child she lost. And maybe... maybe he's not SO bad… after all...

Maybe he can heal the past by being everything he wasn't:

The good son

The admirable brother

the loyal best friend

the reluctant hero

the trustworthy boyfriend

But he's tired. And he hurts and when he's not trying to connect with someone-

Helena, McKenna

-he just WANTS TO BE FORGIVEN FOR SOMETHING. Even if he doesn't deserve it.

And abruptly she's right there: offering. LL. It's easy. Like wish fulfilment. And Tommy isn't biting. He's pushing them away, even when Oliver tries to get him to see the light because there's only so much Oliver can take of all these opportunities to lighten the load in his chest, on his shoulders and in his head.

He can make it work. He can be the Ollie he never was. The man they all miss. He can fix the past: he doesn't have to continue be the man who killed his father, who killed Sara and Shado.

He can be the Ollie who never went on the Gambit.

And so... when LL's feelings change, it feels like forgiveness. Like relief. He can try again.

She responds exactly how he knew she would because, deep down? He can read LL like a book. He can read her because she's easy to read: she loves him. He can see it clearly and just because he doesn't love her the way the storybooks tell you you're supposed to, doesn't mean he can't go back-

Except it's too easy to leave her in bed. Alone. To avoid her calls because- busy.

She may not come first now but once the Undertaking is over he can hide that part of himself and pretend it never existed. He can live, solely, for repentance and it doesn't sound so bad. Living a life making up for his sins. For everyone's sins because, why not? Maybe he'll go to heaven that way. The lies he speaks feel like the truth: LL has always known him... even though she never knew him. It's still true because he will make it true.

He will BECOME the man she fell in love with. The lie. He'll do it, even if he has to act the part for the rest of his life.

It's the only way to forgiveness.

But first, they have a catastrophe to stop and he's never been able to stop one before. Maybe now is the time, but if he dies? Everyone will be fine. They'll-

If you're not leaving, I'm not leaving.

...oh

‘Hello heart; that's the second time I've felt you beat: twice in one year.’

Her words sound an awful lot like... like he'll never be alone as long as she lives.

Well then.

Well...

That's...

No one has ever promised him that. It wasn't even a promise: it was a statement of fact.

I guess... that means she's never allowed to die.

That's a fact too, because he doesn't want to be alone ever again. With the void in him. The part of him that nothing and no one has ever filled, saved those beautiful words just now. Words he didn't think he'd ever hear. Even if she isn't close, as long as she breathes then so shall he.

It's stunning. A literal voice in his ear and a metaphorical one in his head. He'll never be alone again. Can he trust that? It soothes the black in him, quietens the doubt like nothing else has. He takes it with him, holds onto hope-

Casts it aside when everything falls, fails. He failed. He didn't save the city. He made one man the enemy instead of clearing the underground tunnels. He didn't save Tommy.

He can't save anyone.

He's no hero.

And there's no more going back because, how can he without Tommy? With that high a price for trying to do the impossible. LL wasn't the cornerstone there, it was best friend. And she suffered for his selfish attempt too, like she always has. She was always better than him.

He so sorry that he can't love her the way she deserves. He can't tell her that he never did. Ignorance is bliss.

There's just... something wrong with him. He was never meant to exist with people. He should have died on the island.

Trying to rebirth the past is meaningless now. He can't do or change anything. There's no point in staying.

He leaves.

But he makes sure to dump a nice helping of cash into Felicity and Dig's accounts: that's all he’s good for. Maybe it will make them just a little happy. They're better off without him there, because he's a disease. He can only hurt people or run away.

He runs away. He’s good at that too.

Five months alone bring him a small amount of peace: sometimes worldly things get in the way. But he can't stop thinking about Tommy...

Then THEY are there. They came to his personal hell on earth, willingly. No one else would, he knows that. And he’s exasperated, frustrated but it's so good to see them-

Feel them.

She's warm. And beautiful. And she's asking him to come BACK-

But he can't because everything he touches turns to ashes.

Except she needs his help and so do thousands more. His family's legacy is crumbling before him and he has to take responsibility.

It's almost too easy to listen, even as he hates that he has to return because-

FEELINGS. EMOTIONS. MEMORIES. ATTACKING HIM.

Even as he wants to because loneliness is a slow killer too and he'd rather die fast, die standing. Die with people.

...he keeps looking at her. Can't help it-

She draws the eye.

His eye.

And she's saying things that hit him every single time in ways he doesn't know how to face.

She SEES him.

It's like she's decided she's done watching him. She's stepping up. She's SHOWING him the way.

He's in love with that. He needed her years ago. He doesn't deserve it... but she's reaching out and offering her hand. He's almost too scared to touch it, but he does.

Now he's hanging onto her every word, only realising ten seconds in that they've been looking at each other ten seconds too long-

He's relying on her so much more than before. Needs her. For everything:

Queen Consolidated

his mother's trial

she-

-made him a bow.

HER bow. her touch. her ideal. HER.

It doesn't feel drenched in darkness: it's heavier. There's a weight to it now that she's asking him to bear but it settles well in his chest and finally he can breathe a little. She's everywhere; the foundry has touches of her- his life is suddenly filled with her and he doesn't mind. It doesn't scare him.

The idea of her ever leaving does scare him, even as she promised she never would if he didn't.

So he won't.

They're a team. It always worked with John but she's become the heart: it doesn't beat or flow without her and he doesn't question or care how it happened.

The mission changes: it has to. Tommy was the sacrifice for his judgement before. That can't happen again.

Felicity can't be the sacrifice... and he doesn't know why she's first in his thoughts there.

There's Starling, the Glades and the family company. Isabel.

He's a natural at thwarting women who want to spar with him: it's all an act. Sleep with her, keep her quiet. Make her see there's no difference in them really. They're both crappy people trying to save a dying company-

Felicity’s there...

He's had sex before, with other women before; why does this feel worse?

Why does it feel like shame?

And she's a good person; she'd never use sex as a weapon, never use her body so shallowly. Any man who'd want her to isn't worth her time.

I'm not worth her time.

So when she asks and he's glad of it because her silence was deafening, disquieting - he could tell she'd been waiting to ask and he-

looks

her

the

eye

…….oh

THAT’S what he’s been feeling.

It's intense, the way his heart jumps at her. The way the truth settles down on him as the words he speaks become a different kind of truth. He can sleep around with women like Isabel because they mean nothing.

Not her.

Not FELICITY SMOAK-

because he doesn't stay longer in the foundry because he likes it down there; that's where SHE is. She made it her home too. Where the clacking of fingers on a keyboard becomes preferable to the silence, like therapy. He doesn't look forward to a work day because he loves his job: he hates his job, but he likes spending the day with her.

He’s taking advantage of her.

She asked him to try a better way and he has, because it wasn't just about honouring Tommy. It was about working towards the light with her, his guide.

And he realises he's been falling for a while.

But he can't let himself land so he lets her leave-

You deserve better than her.

There's better and then there's Felicity and her words, her voice that beckons and stuns him and- FUCK.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He'd liked her from day one, had been attracted to her intelligence, her wit, her compassion and her short skirts. Her GLASSES. Her lipsticks and nail varnishes.

Her smile.

But that was all...

The Count seals the deal. He gets it. He won't kill but he'd gladly kill for her. He'd break rules for her without feeling guilt, and he doesn't feel guilt- None.

But she's affected and sorry and he can't let her feel that way so her lets her see just a little of what's inside him.

You come first

you're important

to the city

but mostly to me

you're never thanked but I couldn't do this without you

there's no choice to make when it comes to you

And that’s why nothing can ever happen.

But Barry creates an ugly furl in him, something he's never felt. Is it... jealousy? For a kid half his size and triple his intelligence? Yes.

But like a lot of things, Barry makes Oliver see: these thoughts he's been having? They can’t happen. They need to be shut down before it spirals out of control. Put her first.

Sara helps there.

It's part distraction, part comfort, all a shield to feelings that twist turn him inside out in the best ways.

Sara who can take care of herself so he doesn't have to

Sara who's beautiful

Sara who he might be able to be himself with

Sara who was exactly like him

Except they argue about everything and her darkness worries him. Their methods clash, their ideas clash... and before long it starts to feel like he’s trying to fix the past again but he can’t help it. The pull is relentless. He still wants more than anything to go back and make up for what he did.

The monster that he is-

Except Felicity called him a hero. Her words are gold. Everyone in the world could stand against him... but she thinks he’s a hero.

But he’s with Sara and Sara needs help, needs to be shown the way. Felicity and Diggle - they taught him that killing shouldn’t be a first port of call. There’s always ANOTHER WAY.

But Sara CAN’T. And if she can’t then how can he?

Yet she isn’t wrong: they don’t bring out the best in each other... they don’t bring out ANYTHING. She’s worried about touching him with her darkness? She needn't: she never touched his heart, not really.

His heart is in a lock-box, along with his hope. Which is good because-

S.L.A.D.E

-who knows that deep down, Oliver is as dark as they come. He's not a hero. he's a traitorous coward who deserves for history to repeat itself and it does in the worst way.

Because I’m a disease.

Slade, who is a product of Oliver's making. Slade who shows him to the world for who he really is.

Even when Felicity disputes this, he knows it's true.

It would be easy... so easy to sink into her. To take her into himself, breathe deep, devour her whole until he’s surrounded and filled with nothing but her. Her eyes are offering it.

He isn’t worthy.

I can’t.

And he wants to sink away and die, wants to allow his sins to destroy him and maybe that would take away all the problems- But Sebastian is involved and a danger to the city. LL is involved. Her father. His friends.

He has to be strong. He has to stop Slade the way he should have done the first time. He has to stop him, not kill him; but it feels impossible. He's only one man, a failure of a man...

And of course… of COURSE... she's there and she tells him the truth; what he needs to hear. And when she holds him, when he realises his partner is with him 100% through thick and thin he's finally able to acknowledge why he's holding her back. Why she gives him strength. Why her opinion matters the most. Why he dreams about her. Why, when she’s near, he’s stronger.

whoever you love the most.

The ruse is easy because it's real.

He can tell her without telling her and it feels so easy, so good, so natural.

He's in love with Felicity Smoak, not Sara. Not Laurel. Felicity. She could never love him back as he is, but he can hope with that look in her eyes.

And she's stronger than them anyway; she's the one who stops Slade.

After everything lost, it feels like salvation.

I’ll continue this, but it’s already so LOOOONG!

In case you’re wondering who the crazy person babbling about Olicity is, please see my:

TWITTER

AO3

KO-FI

#Olicity #Meta

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melusine0811 · 4 years

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Top 10 of the 2010s

Sure why not! I was tagged by my friend @skyler10fic

The last 10 years had some incredibly difficult moments. Failures, heartbreak. But here are a few of my best moments of the last decade, and a few things I’m proud of.

1) In 2010, I turned 30! I started out the decade returning to France to finish out my academic year there (I had come home for Christmas.) I finished the 1st year of a French Masters degree in FLE (the teaching of French as a Foreign Language). I became even closer to a group of French girls who affectionately called me Lolo (and still do), looked after me, made sure I had everything I needed from a “family” to someone to talk to, and kept me company when I was homesick.

2) I was accepted into a pretty good PhD program. I didn’t stay because of the job market situation and programs being cut left and right, but I completed the first two years of coursework towards my PhD in French Language and Literature. I even got nominated for a teaching award during my fellowship. At the time, leaving felt like a failure and it still does, but I feel certain that if I had finished, I wouldn’t have found a tenure-track position.

3) I met a great guy and got married. We had so many similarities-- both giant geeks, both love to travel, both relatively introverted, both close to our families, both pretty liberal, etc. I found out what I was missing in the crappy relationships I had experienced in the past, and saw what it was to have a true connection with the “right” person. He’s my best friend. We met each other in our 30′s (almost 40 for him) but better late than settle for someone who isn’t right.

4) I traveled back to France twice, to London, to Hawaii, to Disney World like 10 times, went on a cruise to the Bahamas, and on vacation with my family to Northern Michigan (where I vacationed every year growing up)

5) Had a baby boy, who is now 4.5 years old. Following him around keeps me on my toes, and every day is an adventure with this kid.

6) I walked out of a really bad, toxic teaching job that was destroying me. At the time, all I felt was shame that I couldn’t handle it, couldn’t do a better job, couldn’t deal. Now, almost 2 years later, I am pretty proud of myself for getting out...because things there have worsened even more. And I don’t miss it-- sure I miss the kids and my colleagues and actually teaching my content area- but NOTHING else. I feel lifted.

7) I got 2 new jobs- I began my own small business as a travel agent. I mostly plan people’s Disney vacations but I’ve been sending people all over! The second job, I am teaching English as a second language to kids overseas. It’s an absolute blast, and I have regular students I see every week. Seeing their progress over the past several months has brought me such joy.

8) I got a grasp on my own mental illness (severe anxiety and depression) when my old medication stopped working when my son was a baby. I ended up in 2 different outpatient programs, and even went inpatient for a week in the process, but now I understand my illness so much better, and how to watch for the signs. It was hell, which is actually a vast understatement, but I proved to myself that I could come out of it.

9) I started writing fanfiction. And I have been so completely humbled by the response-- the comments and compliments have brought me to happy tears every time a new one makes my inbox ding. It has also been such a dopamine rush- writing in academia was something I loved too, but not like this. This is incredibly rewarding.

10) I have met and networked with other fic writers, some whom I have followed for years. I now consider them friends, and for a select few of them, my day doesn’t feel complete until I’ve talked to them (especially my metacrisis😉). My fandom BFFs are now more than that-- they feel like sisters and I love them dearly. I never knew I could have so much in common with a fellow human being and it is freaking awesome. I can’t wait to meet them in person some day.

I’m tagging @elialys @tenroseforeverandever @aintfraidanoghosts @creativebec @doctorrosetennant @lizann5869 @hanluvr and whoever else wants to do this.

If I didn’t tag you, I figured you probably have enough followers bugging you or that you probably wouldn’t want to.

#get to know meme #lauren opens up

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

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some random numbers: 1, 3, 6, 15, 23, 31, 35, 40. give me ur ungodly long answers.

lmaooo YES brevity whom......i cannot be concise

1) favorite videos?

i sure spent 2010 - 2014 enjoying youtube horror interpersonal-drama series marble hornets, those are a good time. and here in the future you and i both know there is just a wellspring of wrol-related Video Content out there, god damn, i really love so many of them.....in between that there’s sure been a lot of fun and funney videos and like, some Artistique ones i like to revisit [or have disappeared :( ] but i always like to promote this Wuthering Heights one. i love it. oh lol!!!! and the uh, Skate 3 Glitch compilations!!! so so funny

3) favorite memes?

i think Deep Fried Memes are fun all the time lol. the Youtube Meme of “___ but ____” is a lot of fun OH YEAH steamed hams was awesome too. the 24601 Releases A Sammich On Parole ytp is priceless......this is just turning into favorite videos again lmao. vine as a meme and a whole

6)favorite mixes?

you know i never really made or used playlists lol!!!! i will just be like, in the mood for certain songs or else like “i want to listen to music but....which ones”.....i say i can never be concise and all of these answers turning out short lol. it’s not b/c i’m Concise but b/c like, i don’t know what Favorites i have and i don’t have a memory that works without Direct Reminders of Specific Things so i’m just failing to like, come up with the info in the first place smh

15) favorite fictional characters?

here we go lol i can answer this one cuz when i have a fave rave it’s rare and like, easier to remember cuz i do not Go Hard about it that often.....weirdly for the first few years of The Decade i did’t really have such certain faves.....i was def enjoying some characters, as i always do, but nothing like super standout. then in ‘11 or ‘12 or whatever i was like oh hey, ed from cowboybeboy.......and then just had like, the solo experience of me humoring myself w/ that. bit of an usual one b/c a lot of the characters i Really latch on to will tend to be kinda roughly similar in ways that maybe seem pretty at-first-glance levels of obvious, buuut idk she’s not That far off from my usual selections i guess lol. anyways then in 2014 i was like, time to go ham for lars. what a valuable time it was....what Fun we had.....truly tho! and then another interval later it’s 2016 and for similarly (relatable characters of roughly the same cut) i was like, well here i am having a great time re: kip, all while getting to generously use of my fave shade of blue and fangs central and all that fun stuff. and then another interval later the Eventual Unfolding of what started innn 2017 i guess occurs, and it’s late 2018, and i’m like, time to look into Jared Kleinman b/c just from reading the wikipedia summary that didn’t mention him all that much i could tell this was probably a character i’d go ham for for predictable reasons, and the vague interest in that has stuck with me for the past little-over-a-year......and then i was Completely right lol. deh? well that’s just Bonus Jared Lore, to me (though of course alana in her own right is a great and similarly underappreciated character. rights)....and then of course i’ve had a lot of fun with pretty much each and every Wrol Role lmao.......Very fond of jeremy, and also christine, and bmc just has really enjoyable and interesting characters all over the place. and of course, here i am, Extremely #about winston quantbillions as another certified fave rave, really. call it classic!!!

[[answered both 23 and 31 prior, actually.....words were typed....]]

35)a random memory you remember with strange clarity?

tough one because lol a fair amount of “you recorded this memory in a fair amount of detail” is due to increased levels of unpleasantness / stress / discomfort, and if it’s also “i remember this b/c it was Nice” then i wouldn’t call that Strange clarity lol, and Random Memory like “just pull one up from the ol memory bank” is like, god, i wish it were that simple........but give me a min.

oh yeah i had a High Time of it when pokemon go came out (only pokemonn game i have ever played lol) coz there was like, this stretch of Landmarks stops that started at this garden and went along this waterfront / connected park forrr maybe like a half mile stretch? ideal territory and people would actually like, come from out of town to partake in it lol. and i’d Download podcast eps on my phone from my work’s wifi and just like, in the evening listen to that or music and just like, walk and do this shit. i had like five or six gyaradoses at one point cuz i guess the riverside nature of it meant they wanted to throw all these magikarp at you (there Were carp, also! one of the parks had a koi pond.) and like, there were just all these people around doing it along with you, even that late at night and in the early AM hours, so it was fairly social even if u weren’t there with a group or talking with anyone (though there was Camaraderie like, oh hey just so you guys know, there is a ____ over by the boat.) and it was just an interesting Walk with several things to look at and routes to take. and one time in a weird Dead Of Night time like 1am there was this like, smallish cruise ship docked that actually Set Off. and like, a bunch of us randos were just standing there and watching this unfold. this isn’t a very good Clear Random Memory but if i tried to think of a good one, god only knows how long it’d take me lol

40)an important personal revelation?

oh jeez this has really been a decade with lots of the unfortunate combo of “stuff that is a bummer but also boring” lol.......a benefit of getting to spend more time than not Away From The Parents’ House was like, oh sweet, having this perspective for long enough finally leads me to the conclusion of why i hate this......B/c It Is Bad. oh yeah and then there was also conclusively figuring out early in the decade like oh right, i’m trans, that makes sense.......other layers of Gayassedness like oh, more specifically i’m nonbinary, oh yeah and like, i’m not straight, call that queer and/or bi and/or also Gay......bein grey ace like a champ, and aromantic like, oh yeah i’m not like, fucking up at being a person somehow and Letting People Down by not wanting to date them (i mean besides rando cishet men. they can be let down regardless).....and just like, this ongoing process of getting the space to b figuring out myself and what i like For myself in alll kinds of ways....even up till now with the “oh yeah ive been a theatre gay all my life lmaooo” bit that’s like, totally obvious but just like, i didn’t much have the reason to even look at the would-be obvious stuff from the right perspex till now. and it’s pretty fun to realize a Lifelong Area Of Big Interest like that, cuz those sorts of things can feel elusive. and then also unfortunately a lot of the decade has involved like, “oh my self-esteem is so fucked that it’s circling back around and i’m appreciating and valuing myself and that i deserve decent treatment and Not bad shit,” which was a crappy process obviously lol but it was nice when i did start to get there, and making further progress on that front. im not dead certain when i was like “hmm...am autistic” b/c that was definitely a really ongoing process of figuring that out lol, but when / as i did it’s definitely a series of “oh hahaha this is why i’m like This or why i do This or feel like This about This!!” and it’s really easy to learn a totally Brand New Thing all the time abt bein autistic where it’s like Oh #Me!! coz yknow. the info By and For autistic ppl is not always widely available and known of. love that for us

#thank u!!! and thanks for the End Of Decade Ask Meme in the first place lol #cockbiteproductions

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illicreatxm · 5 years

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☺️❤️ (for the munday meme!)

it’s munday! [accepting!] | @hermosa-pesadilla

[long-ass post so read under the cut]

☺ If you have a faceclaim for your muse, why did you choose them? Are you satisfied with your fc, or would you rather find a different one?

A lot of my fcs were generally picked either from watchingtv programmes or using fc hunters, actually, to find the perfect face.

Allie’s original fc, Ariel Winter, was probably one of the only ones where I watched the programme and the muse literally connected with the character on screen. Alex Dunphy from Modern Family is literally Allie, from the brains to the sarcasm and the awkwardness/lack of self-confidence in her appearance due to “prettier” people around her. The only problem was, she wasn’t ethnically correct (and neither was Mandy Moore, tbh), and only recently have I had the guts to change her to Jessica Parker Kennedy, who is more ethnically correct and kind of fits the more bubbly side of Allie when she’s playing Nora West-Allen in The Flash. And I think I’m preferring Jessica, even if she doesn’t wear glasses that much.

Obed’s fc is another one where I connected the muse with the character on screen. My goodness, never have I laughed so much seeing Zeke in the High School Musical series, and his combined love for cooking and slight obliviousness/enthusiasm for his best friends makes me think of Obed so much. He is such a dork. The only problem is, I don’t know of any movies where Chris Warren Jr. wears glasses, and canonically Obed wears reading glasses when he becomes a teacher (his eyesight was always crappy, but he finally does something about it when he becomes a real adult).

Jake’s was more of a fc hunt, I think, but as soon as I associated him with Dylan Everett I fell in love? He just works so well for Jake. And so does Tom Cruise!! Though I associate Jake more with the Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire than any other film, maybe in A Few Good Men but not much else. Jodie was literally me loving Liliana Mumy from Cheaper By The Dozen and Jodie 100% being that child with the big mouth and punchy fists; her adult fc was definitely a hunt, but I approve of the finding a lot considering it wasoriginally Emma Stone.

Alex’s and Aleshia’s were both from childhood – I never watched Hannah Montana, but as soon as I saw Cody in a fc hunt I knew that would be Alex. He’s very hard to find films for, though, because other than Hoot and Hannah Montana he’s not in a huge lot of other films. Aleshia’s fc I fell in love with from kids movies I watched like Jump In!! Also, there are parts of her that really make me think of Aleshia, but there are also parts of her that don’t quite match up. Like, Keke Palmer seems like such a joker and really loud, and whilst Aleshia can be that loud she’s less of a joker and more of a klutz. But I still love my sweet, clumsy child.

Rachel’s fc was one that I never originally imagined would fit her, but she was very accurate with her expressions and the fact that she looks so happy in a lot of the things she does? Madison Pettis has a lovely smile and from what I’ve watched her characters are happy people so she really fit Rachel. Sarah’s fc is a really rare one, and I originally found her when I was looking for that girl from The Starving Games? (Idek why I watched that…) She fits Sarah so much facially, but she isn’t in much popular stuff, so she’s a difficult one to make icons for, really. I haven’t even really seen much of what she’s in, but she fits Sarah well so I’m keeping her (despite being tempted many times to change). Rosie’s fc was another hunt, though this was mainly through looking for someone who looked like Dylan Everett. In all honesty, when I imagine Rosie, I don’t really imagine Ciara Bravo as the fc, but her facial expressions work ridiculously well for the kind of person Rosie is.

George, Kat and Laura are literally fc hunt finds. I never had any tv or movie characters that really related to them in mind when I was searching. Same for James, and also for Mandy. Though, Mandy’s was recently changed for ethnic accuracy, like Allie’s, and the Banks’ all had their changed because I wasn’t really that happy with the fcs I had for them. Though Alex Pettyfer had the build I had in mind for George, and is a lot more like how I’d imagine George to be, I just didn’t feel happy using him. (Dylan is enough of a dork anyway.)

♥ When it comes to shipping, what factors are absolutely necessary for a ship to develop?

A N G S T. Alongside the chemistry, I really, really need muses to battle through more difficult times and have conflict for ships to develop, even if it’s just through headcanoning. That, and headcanoning, of course, because communication when shipping is absolutely key for me. But mainly angst. Realistic angst. Like, I can do fluff any day, really, because it can be easy to come up with fluffy, cutesy stuff that a ship could do, but things that cause our muses to clash or something realistic that they have to struggle together to get through? Something that they should really talk about but have been avoiding because they’re afraid of conflict? Big problems that make them want to break down and cry whilst the other holds them up? G I V E M E.

For example: Kat and Sam (who belongs to @a-simple-rper) generally have a really cutesy, happy relationship. Like, they screw each other a lot, but they’re really happy? But their defining moment in my head will always be how Sam knocked her up, and through that it revealed that they actually really do love each other, and are working through their struggles with regards to finance whilst having the support of their family in the back just cheering them on and ready to catch them when they fall. Jake and Gabbie (who belongs to @astrologicallyperfect) are another cutesy couple, but they got a ton of angst going for them mainly because of their hugely conflicting personalities as teens that they learn to work through. Jake is basically a huge, entitled child and Gabbie is a sweet bean, and whilst they are adorable together their conflict is so beautiful to work through. Like, they are actually a couple who just want to be together and they are working through their problems and baggage both individually and together to make sure they are healthy for each other. (99% of the time it’s Jake’s fault anyway and you guys have no idea how much I love seeing people beat his ass down by pointing out how shitty he can be.)

Of course, that is all for romantic shipping. For friendship shipping, there still needs to be that chemistry, but a lot of my muses tend to slide towards the sibling relationship end of the spectrum than just casual friends. Really. The big friendships on this blog that come to my head are Allie and Sochi (@mochafortissimo), Alex and Lailani (@astrologicallyperfect), Alex and Milly (@a-simple-rper) and Jake and Sam (@a-simple-rper). I know for a fact that there are more friendships on this blog, but these sibling-like relationships are the ones my muses cling to the most. A lot of the time, my muses just need someone they can not only hug and laugh with, but someone who is willing to take the banter. Because all of them have sharp tongues. :/

#{out of character}#{the creator behind the screen}#{munday memes}#[aaaah thanks for this!!!!#i actually love all of my children so much #and couldn't get away with talking about just one]#hermosa pesadilla #{ask responses}

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grumblebee-trilogy · 5 years

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Rules: answer 22 questions and tag 22 people you want to know better

Tagged by: @queenculper

Nicknames: Bee, Ginger

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Height: imagine a hobbit

Last movie I saw: 1776

Last thing I googled: how to connect to my library’s crappy WiFi

Favorite musician: Hector Berlioz

Song stuck in my head: Take me Out by Franz Ferdinand

Other blogs: @bifrostbite and twitter of the same name

Following: stuff

Followers: thangs

Do I get asks: sometimes! But I want more

Amount of sleep: either 3 hours or 12. Little in between.

Lucky number: 112

What I’m wearing: red sweater with bows, leggings, and boots

Dream job: museum work, possibly curating or education. Or teaching in a university.

Dream trip: Antarctica or a trans-Pacific island hopping cruise.

Favorite food: grilled cheese

Instruments: I played clarinet once upon a time and I want to play it again.

Languages: English, a little Spanish, and some very, very, very, awful French

Favorite songs: Kids with Guns by Gorillaz

Random fact: I’m learning how long 6 hours can be when you don’t have WiFi

Aesthetic: history nerd

I tag: @tooeasilyconsidered @mercurygray @wellreadfan @madi-tumbles

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aurimeanswind · 6 years

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Back Again—Sunday Chats—7/8/18

Welcome Back!

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these, and I wanted to open up with a bit of a litany of excuses as to why that is! I know when you’re just on the outside looking in its hard to know exactly why I haven’t been posting these or asking questions, or really anything on Sundays. It’s a combination of things.

First of all, the last two Sundays I have not been home to write up Sunday Chats. Three weeks ago I was in Cuba! Well, technically I was at Key West, the day before I’d go to Cuba, on a cruise ship. Most importantly, the only internet access I had was through the data on my cell phone, and so I couldn’t really post Sunday Chats. In theory, I could solicit questions via my phone, I could write it up offline, and then go on and post it when I’d get home the following Wednesday, but I really didn’t want to because it was honestly a genuine vacation for me. I wanted to kind of check out and try and not be online so much. Of course, I failed a little bit in this regard, I was checking Twitter ravenously any time I had an internet connection, because I have a problem. For the most part, when I was off on my cruise with my mom and my brothers three weeks ago, I was without an internet connection, and it was a little nice, but also a little stressful.

The week before that, it was E3! We were living in the Microsoft/Bethesda press conferences! I was going to write something that day but honestly between the post shows and just consuming E3 I honestly did not have time. I’ve done like, reaction write ups in the past, but I was a bit more down to live in the moment this go around.

Then I was in San Francisco! It was the day after Kinda Funny Prom, which was lovely, we’ll get to that in a bit, but that Sunday I was seeing a movie with Barrett Courtney, my sweet boy, and was just exhausted after KFP and everything then. I had stayed up way too late the night before talking games and eating pizza. I had a great time, but I was still pretty checked out.

The Sunday between those two, I was completely exhausted. Honestly? I’m still exhausted. The best thing, I think, to alleviate my normal “post-con depression” type thing I get after a Kinda Funny Live event and seeing all my friends is taking another, separate vacation just beforehand. I had barely enough time to stay at home and just sit on my couch and play video games before suddenly being whisked off to San Francisco. So getting home, I am just so happy to be home, to be sleeping in my pitch-black room on my comfy foam mattress. To lay on my couch and play whatever video game I want (which mostly has been Tales of Vesperia... again) and just... relax. Ya know what I mean? I just want to relax. I’m a solitary person. I’ve talked many a-time before on here, but I just love to be alone a lot. And I just want to be alone sometimes, especially after several back-to-back socially exhausting experiences.

And that’s a big part about why I’ve been so crappy about doing Sunday Chats consistently. Even before this last month of vacations I’ve been very touch and go about SC. Now that I have fully transitioned into being a full time employee, I work a lot more than my body is used to, even if I am four months into my new role at my job. It’s a lot for me. And I’m barely keeping up with my IP work of being an editor there. And that’s, I think, more important, because I am making decisions and a team is relying on me for that.

I essentially circle around two days off a week, Wednesday and Sunday, and so I work Thursday-Friday-Saturday, plus I have the podcast on Friday nights. Without getting too into the details, Saturdays at my job take quite a toll. Like, a lot on me, so just making it to Sunday, I’ve genuinely forgotten completely about Sunday Chats because I am sleeping in and resting and just trying to get my bearings. I know it’s not much of an excuse, but I’m hoping to turn Sundays into equally as productive days as they are relaxing. It’s just about finding that balance.

As per usual, my trip to San Francisco was motivational in some ways, so I feel inspired to continue to work harder and do more now that I’m home, and hopefully that can last me until PAX West in a couple months.

But that’s generally where the status of Sunday Chats is. As a big update, while not going into effect quite yet (maybe not even for months) but Sunday Chats will soon transition to be a full feature on IrrationalPassions.com. I think it’s a natural transition and it makes sense. It’ll still be available and accessible to all, but I want to play around with some format ideas I have, and I think it makes sense to be there since it is, predominantly, about video games, as it always kind of was. I want to have these heartfelt chats there, because I think as the “editor-in-chief” of the site, it helps build a rapport with the audience of that site which seems to grow every month.

Now that’s all done, let’s get to the editorial!

My Feelings and Emotions in San Francisco

I like this title because it’s just all about the feels. As many frequent Sunday Chats readers would know, depression is just slowly becoming one and the same with me. Like two amorphous blobs just close enough to each other that they become one. Like slime enemies from Dungeons & Dragons that just jell together on spiritual and self-hatred-like level.

So I’ve been through a rough like... 2018 to be honest. And so being in a place where I was just genuinely surrounded by affection and good vibes was really, really moving for me. I put out a twitter thread about the feeling which I think encapsulates most of what I’d want to say, and you can read that here.

But a big thing is how being in SF has proven to be a huge opportunity for me in the past: a time to “schmooze” as some people say, and talk to people, make connections, market yourself, or just meet as many people as you can and spread “the brand” as much as possible. And honestly, I just wasn’t here for that this year. I’ve gotten to a very, maybe even regressive place in my life, where I’d rather not get out there and try and be at the center of things and meet as many folks as possible. There were certainly several folks I had never met before that I wanted to meet, but for the most part I spent that time focusing on more intimate interactions with specific people.

A lot of this manifested in folks I’ve admired for a great long while, and that’s the fellows at OK Beast. I got to have a real heart to heart with Ian Preschel, someone I just haven’t been as close to for whatever dozen reasons that usually amount to time, and understand him better as a person. I got to have an emotional moment with Moises, someone I admire so goddamn much and for some reason keeps saying I’m the reason he started writing. I got to spitball ideas with Alex Van Aken, my fellow Alex-in-Arms, and share the wonders of running a business Slack with Blessing. They’re people I just genuinely look up to and inspire me legitimately every day, and I’m excited and hopeful to collaborate with them in the future. I have nothing but love for all of them, including Brandon, wherever he is out there.

I got to spend a ton of time with Barrett and Alyssa, my hosts, and Jacob Bryant who was also rooming with me at their place. They’re just family to me. Enough said.

I got to spend a huge chunk of time with Nicole Humphrey and Cameron Abbott, two very special friends to me, and for reasons I’d rather not put on blast here, it was very important to me that this time was worked into my trip, and I’m so glad it was.

Those dense, meaningful interactions are what I live for. It’s literally why I started the show Get Acquainted (new episodes coming soon I promise!) and they were the highlights of the weekend. I won’t list them all here, but suffice to say on a personal level this trip was very important to me, rather than on a “business level” which it has been for me in the past.

Thank you all for being open to wasting your time with me, I’ll be forever grateful.

ONTO GAMES.

What’s On Tap

Hollow Knight

I HAVEN’T TALKED ABOUT THIS GAME ON SUNDAY CHATS AT ALL YET AND IT’S INCREDIBLE OMG.

I love this game.

Final game time was 42h and 7m, and all of it was excellent. Well... Not all of it, there were a couple very frustrating bosses. But most of it was excellent.

One of the best Metroidvanias ever made. Symphony of the Night, Super Metroid, Ori and the Blind Forest, Hollow Knight, and Metroid Prime are the best of the genre full stop. It sits proudly in that number.

Don’t think. Play it.

Unless you really don’t like hard games, because it’s very difficult, but crazy rewarding!

Ys VIII

I just got this pretty recently and am only about four or so hours in, and so far it’s just a wonderful delight.

Compared to the demo I played a great many months ago on PS4, the Switch version does take quite the graphical hit, especially if you have a hangup about anti-aliasing. There are a LOT of jaggies to be seen here

BUT, I think performance wise it’s still very solid. Some hitches here and there, but during combat it’s generally smooth, and that’s what’s most important.

Very good. Recommended.

Captain Spirit

Honestly, there is too much to say here. Don’t hesitate, go play this. I do not care if you’re like Jurge Cruz (social media editor at IP) and are dead inside and don’t like Captain Spirit. It’s free. Go play it.

Nuff. Said.

More thoughts coming soon.

Questions

Remember you can tweet me your questions by looking for my tweet with #SundayChats in it on Sunday afternoons, and you can be a part of this write up! Much love to everyone who always shows up (I’m looking at you Brandon Gann! <3)!

Goddammit Tyler you keep asking me wrestling shit and you know I hate wrestling...

Uhh...

What if I just showed up and was Noctis?

Originally posted by ffxvcaps

A great many things! Event wise, I’m very excited about PAX West. Assuming I can still make it, which I should be able to, it’ll be a blast.

Plus there are new shows and new things coming from IP soon that I am just hyped for.

But let’s be honest with each other? Okay? Let’s all be real here?

Motherfucking Tales of Vesperia Definitive Edition.

‘Nuff said.

My favorite Romantic Comedy of All Time just so happens to also be my favorite movie of all time, Silver Linings Playbook.

It is, in my humble opinion, a perfect film. It is the only movie I have watched over 10 times.

It’s very important to me, and while it may seem dumb to many of you, it told me that even fucked up bad people like me can find love in both themselves and others. And I really needed to hear that when that movie found its way to me in 2013.

Good LORD am I the WORST to ask about this. Well, first, Jamie. It was a goddamn pleasure meeting you at prom.

I mean, look at us:

I was very drunk and I’m so sorry.

But on a real level, a few things.

First, I did this horrible thing where I wrote everyday for almost three years straight and that was just a self-made torture and I have to keep myself in shape motivationally speaking or else I’ll have to do that again. And that sounds torturous. But as far as building strong habits I think that did help a lot. I mean, Sunday Chats is a direct by product of that, and I think generally people seem to like SC.

Second, I spend a lot of my brain energy trying not to worry about shit I have zero control over. If I misread a text and think someone hates me for whatever reason, which I do pretty much on a daily basis, I’m either going to text them back and ask, or do nothing, and if I’ve decided to do nothing, then I don’t get to be upset about it. If someone is doing some wack shit, I’m either gonna keep talking to them, or nah. Just do it, and everything else, well there is nothing you can do about it. Usually. But my depressed-adled and crazy-ass garbage brain still spends many an hour worrying about things I have no control over. But I’ll say this, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten better at it. Skill comes with time and age.

Third, I think finding someone on relatively equal footing as you but maybe doing something better or more interesting or just simply different than you can really be motivational. It’s easy to get demotivated by someone else’s success, but words I try and hold onto every goddamn day are “someone else’s success does not equate to your failure”.

I hope that helps!

I have not had a lot this year, unfortunately. Avengers was great? I looooved Ant Man and the Wasp! Adored it. Just saw it yesterday (on Sunday, actually!) and it was phenomenal.

But outside of that I don’t have much. It’s crazy to say that in a year where a new JK Rowling Harry Potter movie is coming out, but Johnny Depp is in that movie and he is fucking human trash and for some reason WB is letting him just waltz around like he hasn’t done horrific things.

But anyway, I’d very much like to see Fireworks, from the same folks what made Your Name, but the dub wasn’t playing anytime I could see it this past weekend. :(

Maybe if it goes up on streaming soon (which I’m hopeful it will) I can see it.

Outside of that, I got nothing.

As someone who actively dislikes breakfast and most breakfast food, this is tricky for me to answer. I know your whole breakfast fetish Quin, so I won’t shit on you here, but I guess it’d just be a simple bagel (everything bagel. or poppy seed, depending on my mood) or maybe pancakes/waffles.

My thing is waffles/pancakes aren’t breakfast food, they’re anytime food. Or 1am food.

I have traveled a lot yes, but it’s been to a lot of the same places over and over again unfortunately. Not that that’s necessarily bad, but it’s been a lot of SF, Boston, etc, etc.

Having just gone to Cuba, I finally have a passport! So it’s time.

It’s time Japan. I’m coming to you.

And hopefully Ireland too. But those trips will likely have to wait a bit and be very far from one another.

ISLAND BOY!

Well, that is a nightmare scenario for me, because I’d definitely die very quickly. BUT. If I had to choose.

First up would be Bentley from Sly Cooper, because he is a big needy nerd like me and would want to get the hell out of there ASAP just as much as I do, and he could make like, a series of small helicopters out of coconuts or some shit.

SECONDLY.... Hrmm.... harder choice.

There is a really great joke here about choosing Fi from Skyward Sword because maybe she could just DOUSE our way to a better situation, heaven knows...

But I’m mostly above that.

I’d say Cappy from Mairo Odyssey just because I just looked at my Cappy hat and it’d be fun to just capture turtles and crabs and stuff on the island. Not Bentley, he’d consider that an invasion of privacy.

I don’t know if YOU should get Detroit, but I absolutely love it. I’d say read Logan Wilkinson’s excellent review of the game, available here:

http://irrationalpassions.com/detroit-become-human-review/

He liked one relationship in that game a lot more than I did, but generally we’re on the same page with it. I love the game, and if Heavy Rain did anything for you then I think Detroit is better in just about every way.

I’ll say this: it’s not like 2018 has been BANGERs for me, but after 2017, where two of my new favorite games EVER came out (Breath of the Wild and Persona 5) it’s just so impossible to follow that up. That being said, I’m medium to high excited about MANY games this fall: Spyro, Tomb Raider, Valkyria Chronicles, AC Odyssey, Life is Strange S2, Code Vein, Darksiders 3, and Smash Bros. That’s a whole lot in just three short months to eat up like some yummy yummy candy.

So while I think he first half of 2018 has been pretty great, mostly because of Hollow Knight, but also Ni No Kuni 2, Celeste, Yakuza 6, and Moonlighter, its still been good. It’s been a big one for me to reconnect with my indie darlings. And that’s big for me.

I hope that helps!

Checklist

It’s been a while eh?

Well here are some recs!

“The Short But Chilling ‘Captain Spirit’ Weaponizes Empathy Against You” - Patrick Klepek - Waypoint.

I have barely read this but everything about it jives with me. Another one to check out only after you’ve played Captain Spirit, which I assume all of you are going to do, because it’s free, and because I asked you so nicely to do so.

The Music of Persona 4 Golden - Blessing Adeoye - OKBeast.com

I mean, it’s about arguably the best video game soundtrack of all time, from one of the best music-takers in games, that just so happens to be on my favorite video game of all time. What do you want? Go watch.

OK Beast Podcast Episode 100 - OKBeast.com

I’ve found myself far more into OKBP since they merged OKB and PPR into one show. Here is their 100th episode, where they decided to rank the best 100 video games ever. For some reason.

Like, what if on Ep 400 of IPP we ranked the top 400 video games of all time? Fuck that.

Love those boys.

That’s it. That’s all she wrote. Or rather, that’s all I wrote. Sorry this posted Monday, I hadn’t checked my work schedule for a minute and then I saw at like, 8:30pm I had to open today and that means I have to wake up at 6am and I figured I should be responsible and get a full night’s sleep. Still didn’t fall asleep until about 10:30am, but I wrote some of this last night.

I’m rambling.

I love you all.

Do me a favor though?

Keep it real.

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the-firebird69 · 3 years

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and cruise plays me in this role then the clones are supposedly not mine at al due to nuclear cloning and i was fooled and macs ran it are the odd japenese woman speaking...nice ppl supposedly, i ask whoa re you as they always ask me like dimwits i am at times forced to repeat who ia m over and over. and no i dont ask who macs are i know who you are act ornot and somtiems not immediatly but that is your corky syndrome you have of gettin high your fat lazy incompetentad thing scortched earth is all your own due to russia. i have reasons as you do. you pukes macs cant control anyone. and lost it and make happy horseshit comments instead...chose to say you won like corky does. anotehr sign of his disease...he wins no tells what hes up to. and you do tommy f the whole entire enchlada and many repeat it ten times aday and here carefree too.we nab them due to hubris it is sheer human intellect and correct curiosity. and thsoe connected to them..and you dont beleive you say you sigh as if i lie and so on and the piles are higher then hell and berghs and more...what gives here go see kavorkian ok man your so damned annoying. Zues Hera we have stuff feel overstuffed... mac go f yoruself word play guru, as that is your game. you play word games win the big show. ok sure. Zues Hera we see it too we are playing word games and won nothing. hilarious no. hell over and over ok you got me. then we duck and if we are winning others feed why. and so we say this we cannot stop them anymore...and we go ...ok we see. how droll. christ escapes and not even one juicy real fart...to smell only prestons. like you work together man. you stink you smell. your lazy crappy. and dont tend to antying but my odd diet....and weird habbits. it is so strange from my perspective, you all handed i t over or do and say im jesus. get ott me fags i have no s cult following same thing mooch too cults do. Zues Hera we hear this we suck and blow and mostly. do not no we do. so. what can we do. mac wait for it. we shall these tards so aweful..he says you watned to fight you cant fight the sissy, i mean...embarrassing no? Zues Hera we get this too stop them stop blaming me stop making noises and we sy no we roll. he says we hault you thene. different word. hold. not stop fully. and we see why nope it is cork. half assed. and others wear us down.. mac tonight the Emerald moves, it is ready.. Zues Hera fine. we see it. done deal out and all. out of your midst. wonder why you blow you suck you blow and it is by repetition we get kicked out mac

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUuAbRVVZwA

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stelliumastrology · 4 years

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This statement sums Virgo season up so well. . . For me it’s about the mind–body connection. . . If we don’t pay attention to our inner-compass and recognise whether we‘re at ease or dis-ease with a situation, then the body will tell us with subtle clues. . . Problem is we can misdiagnose our ailments and label individual symptoms without recognising the root cause. . . During the Sun‘s cruise through discerning Virgo (the only mutable earth sign of the zodiac) sensitivities connected with the body and habitual behaviour can be identified more easily, and changed. . . Personally, I realised dairy was causing me a few problems, and since I’ve eliminated it from my diet I’ve noticed some huge benefits and no longer feel crappy most of the time! . . Admittedly it was easier eating what I wanted and not paying attention to what my body was trying to tell me. . . But it wasn’t intentional: it was as though I was operating on autopilot, and then wondering why I felt so icky! . . But Now I’ve finally made the connection I have clarity and I feel well! . . And just like that, my mind and body are working in harmony and I‘m able to make wise choices which help promote my wellness, rather than illness. . . ➡️ Have you made any clarifying-connections during Virgo season? . . . #virgoseason #mindbodyspirit #eurikamoment #eurika #dairyfree #dairyintolerance #pcosawareness #casein #mercuryinvirgo #suninvirgo #evilcheese #bodyandmind #healthandwellness #illness #eliminationdiet #swinsta #swinstafam #swmafia #mealplanning #stellium #stelliumastrology #astrology #thestelliumastrologypodcast #astrologypodcast #awakeningmoment #teamvirgo #virgoseason #virgoszn #foodandmood #illnessandwellness (at Virgo Villa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEw0gmFphVj/?igshid=zbu8x7jjxzey

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sherrybaby14 · 7 years

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She’s Not There Part 2

THIS IS A SMALL UPDATE! PLEASE READ MY NOTE.

Part One (I’m on mobile so here is the ugly link: https://sherrybaby14.tumblr.com/post/163765465257/shes-not-there. )

Summary: After returning to the States you struggle to understand Arthur’s book as much as he struggles to let you go.

A/N: I got more requests for small updates than a large one. Goal is to have this done by Friday! Also, this was for a challenge I signed up for and then the host left tumblr because of hate. I miss her, and please be nice to each other. This is based on The Zombie’s She’s Not There

Warnings: Swearing? Bad thoughts? (No smut!) I did make some fan fiction jokes, but they’re meant to be poking fun.

Characters: Reader and Ketch

Words: 2800

Tags: (I’m tagging all who requested a part 2, please ignore if you’re not interested) @kellyn1604 @kellyn1604 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @negan-is-god @celestiial-angel @sea040561 @knightxdetective @aquivercactus @granger49677 @justafangirlinaspnworld-blog @rubberducky999 @mick-deserved-better (forever tags) @thecynicalnerd @marauderice

@mac5323 @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @i-am-negan-trash @roschelesworld @taintedgenre @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl

To say the book was weird would be an understatement. You never read Chuck Shurley before, but you thought his work had more…plot. The thing read like a user manual or a report. That didn’t mean it was bad though, in fact once you were done with the first read you started again.

It had to have been a companion, for the super fans. But you didn’t think those novels were popular enough, or had super fans. There was no way the suave Brit was running around in his free time going to fan conventions, he was way too uptight for that sort of thing.

When you landed your car was at the airport, all your possessions still in your trunk. You drove straight to a cheap motel and got a room for the week. The way back meant flying against the time change and it was actually earlier in the day than it had been when you left, but sun-up or not you were exhausted.

Once you were in your room you plopped down on the bed. You reached into the bag on the floor and pulled out Arthur’s book. Right now you were regretting not getting a way to contact the man. You wanted to tease him about his super fan status and a smile came to your face imagining his response.

“A man needs a hobby darling.” You tried your best British accent. “Or: I said I worked with monsters.”

The smile fell off your face and you opened the book again. No. He couldn’t have been literal, besides, monsters didn’t exist. You rolled your eyes, certain now that you were much to tired to think clearly. You wondered what the British man was doing at the moment, your heart hurting at the thought of ditching him the way you had.

Of course it was for the best. He was getting too attached, and who knows? Maybe you would have caved and made a mistake by staying in England with a complete stranger? America was where you belonged and you were far to level headed to change your entire life for a man.

The memory of his tongue on yours, his hands running up your sides brought the smile back to your face as you drifted off to a sleep, clutching the only memento of the man who gave you one of the best week’s of your life.

~~~

It was almost ten o’clock on a Sunday, long quitting time, but Ketch had no plans on leaving as he continued to flip through the photos of every single American hunter. There had to be some connection to his Amy. Some would call him an obsessive man, but he saw it more as drive.

“What are you doing here?” Mick walked into the library with a book in hand.

“Research.” Ketch did not look up from the computer.

“I’ve said it before, but don’t bother trying to find her.” Mick put away his book and went to the table Ketch was at. “The girl is a ghost.” “Except for she isn’t.” Another female who looked nothing like Amy was on the screen. He was long passed the point of searching for her. Now he was looking for parents, or a siblings, or even a cousin. Anyone that shared a feature was being added to a list.

“It’s been three months.” Mick looked concerned. “We’ve tried every angle. She’s not there.”

Arthur glared at Mick. Right now he wanted to hate his colleague, but the man had assisted in the search. “With out a town or a state it’s impossible.” Mick shook his head. “There’s no mention of her on any research involving hunters. Until Dr. Hess wants to invade America our hands are tied.”

“She has let them run rampant over there. It will happen soon.” Ketch knew Mick agreed.

“The country has over thirty million people. Even when that happens how likely are you to find your Amy?” Mick raised his eyes brows. “There are plenty of birds over here. We could go that pub you like near your place, maybe one will wander in.”

Ketch clenched his fist. Of course Mick had no clue that was how he met his Amy, but the suggestion was rubbing salt in his wounds. Maybe Mick was on to something though. Three months was the longest Ketch had been celibate since losing his virginity. It might be nice to find some release.

Of course his mind wet to Amy and who she may have fucked over the past three months. A rage ignited inside him at the idea of anyone touching her. He would rip them to shreds with bare hands and make her pay for letting another person near what belonged to him. Amy was his possession, she may have stole herself away but that did not relinquish his ownership. Of course any punishment she received would only happen if Ketch could control his anger upon seeing her again. Sometimes he fantasized about squeezing her beautiful neck until the life vanished from her eyes. She deserved it for what she was putting him through.

“Are you alright mate?” Mick broke his concentration.

“Let’s get that drink.” Ketch flipped off the computer and stood up to his colleague’s surprise. “Not that pub though. I want to head to the tourist area. One of those clubs has to be open.”

Mick nodded and turned to leave the room. Ketch followed behind him. He would never give up. She had taken something more important than the book, something Ketch hadn’t meant to hand out to her. His heart. The first woman to ever do so, and what did she do with such a precious gift? Destroyed it. Oh she would pay, one way or another, she would get what was coming to her. Ketch would never let her get away with such disrespect.

~~~

The economy sucked and that meant ending up in a crappy job that had nothing to do with your major. The plus side of not having a family and living out of motel rooms meant it was easy to pack up and leave. And so you did, cruising across America until you found another crappy job you got sick of.

You arrived in Denver and took as an assistant manager doing retail. It was stupid, your first day you knew it would be like every other job you worked the past six months. You gave it six weeks tops before you left the store. There was an urge inside you to do something that mattered, but you couldn’t figure out what that was yet

In your free time you read every Supernatural book you could get your hands on. There was no Amazon prime available for those bad boys though. You were right, they were not that popular which meant checking out used book shops, eBay, and the occasional comic book shop. Of course your newest occupation was right next to one of those and, lucky for you, they were open late.

The bell to the store rang when you pushed open the door. You made a bee line to the clerk behind the desk.

“Hi.” You gave him your biggest smile. “Do you carry any Supernatural books? And not just books about the Supernatural, but a specific series called Supernatural by…”

“Chuck Shurley!” The man said the name at the same time as you.

“You’ve heard of them before?” Your heart about jumped out of your chest. In six months this was your first conversation with another fan.

“Heard of them? I go to the convention every year! I cosplay Sam.” He was your height, much to short for the younger Winchester. On top of that his hair was too long, and he lacked the muscular build of Sam.

You shook your head, that didn’t matter.

“Convention?” You didn’t know one existed.

“We like to keep it small.” The man tucked his shoulder length hair behind his ear. “We don’t want it to turn into a Walker-Stalker con. Only true fans allowed. It’s by invitation only, happens every fall. If you’re interested I could get you on the list. You would make a killer Tamara, or maybe a Jo. What about one of the Rubys? Yeah! Ruby! She’s a demon and can look like anyone. Or you could dress as a little girl and be Lilith!”

“Right.” You smiled and gave a nod, pretty sure that not many women attended this thing. “Maybe next year.”

“Don’t have any in stock.” The man shook his head. “And if I did, I would probably keep them.”

“So you’re an expert?” You were almost giddy.

“Is Bella the worst thing to come out of Great Britain?” The man puffed his chest out.

Again, you didn’t know how to answer, since that character had yet to appear in the few copies you’d obtained.

“I’m a newbie to these books, but it seems like there are an awful lot of characters. Do you know if a guide exists? Like a companion book?” You batted your eyelashes.

“There is a crappy wiki, but it’s run by this guy Lane. He thinks that he is the perfect Sam.” The man raised his fist. “But he has short black hair! How can Sam have short hair? Fucking Lane. The site is a piece of shit too. He thinks that Lucifer is a blond. I keep saying that’s not what he looks like, it’s just a vessel, but every time I make the edit Lane changes it back. I shouldn’t bother with it. Maybe I should make my own….”

Realizing that the guy was going to drone on and on forever you reached into your bag. Looking around the store like you had some piece of treasure you pulled out Arthur’s book.

“So you’ve never seen this before?” You were hesitant to hand it over, but wanted answers and this was as good as you were going to get without scanning the thing and putting it online.

“No.” The man examined the fancy binding before opening it up. “Someone put a lot of time into this.”

You tapped your fingers on the counter, not enjoying how long the man held your book for. In fact you found yourself starring at his hands, unsure how long it had been since he washed them. That was Arthur’s book. Nobody else should be touching it. You went to grab it back, but stopped yourself. You were sounding like a crazy person.

“Someone took a lot of time to make this.” He looked up and turned the book around towards you. “But these pictures of Sam and Dean are ridiculous. Sam isn’t that tall. And they’re hunters, not models. I’ll still throw you a bone, how about two hundred for it?”

“Excuse me?” You wouldn’t part with the book for a million.

“Fine, you called my bluff. Five hundred.” The man went blank faced.

“It’s not for sale.” You shook your head. “I just wanted to know if you had seen a copy before.”

“This isn’t a copy.” The man leaned forward and flipped to the front. “There’s no source information.”

You had noticed that before. He flipped to a random page and ran his fingers down.

“This ink is high quality. Not what would be used on a Supernatural paperback.” He went to the end. “This stuff about a bunker? It’s not in the books. To me, this is high quality fan fiction.”

He ran his fingertips down the page.

“And from a quick scan it contains no smut.” He shut the book and set it on the counter. “A very rare find. Did you make this? Because if you want to mass produce this, we can go 50/50. I’ll make copies and distribute through my channels. We could sell them for a thousand a pop.”

You picked up the book, wanting it out of the man’s grasp. He tensed and went for it.

“Like I said, it’s not for sale.” You put the book back in your bag and clutched it to your side, happy you trusted your initial instinct not to scan the pages and put them online.

The last thing on your mind was the money as you started out the store.

“Wait!” The man jumped the counter.

You didn’t pause as you went outside.

“I’ll pay you a thousand just to read it.” He followed you into the parking lot.

“Sorry no.” You sped walked to your car, holding your back in front of you.

“I will give you a copy of every book in the series just to read it.” He was right behind you.

You did not turn around. Arthur’s voice running over and over in your head. I work with monsters. The bookshelf in his apartment, filled with these bound books that looked the same. It didn’t make any sense.

“Please Miss.” He stopped following you. “I am sorry I tried to low ball you. That thing is priceless. Just let me read the part about the bunker.”

You didn’t respond as you kept walking to your car. His footsteps picked up again and you took off sprinting. There was enough distance between the two of you for you to dive into your front seat and hit the lock button before he made it to the window.

“Ten thousand dollars. I will mortgage my house.” The man was on the other side of the glass.

You didn’t look at him as you turned over the engine and sped out of the parking lot. In the rear view window you saw the look of pure frustration on his face. It shook you to your core. If he was that frantic about it, that meant one thing. He was asking himself the same question you were. Was it real?

The idea had been eating away at you for some time. To the point you were debating on buying a plane ticket back to England, ready to sit in that damn pub every night until Arthur showed up. If a credit card company would have approved you you would have by now. Arthur. Even thinking his name made your heart ache.

It had been six months since you left England, and not a day went by you weren’t thinking about the man. Were you too harsh? Did you not realize what was in front of you, too distracted by logic to open your heart to the possibility that what you had was real?

The memory of him filling you up, your wrists in his hand as he rocked inside of you. So many nights you had tried to find him online. Even making a Facebook page with a whopping 23 friends. All you had to go on was Arthur in London. How could you not think to ask his last name? Imagining the primal look in his eyes made you moan out loud in your car. If you didn’t have the resources to get back to him you had to do the next best thing.

Denver was another bust. You were going to head back to the motel to grab your stuff, but you wouldn’t be staying the night there. You were fighting the inevitable. If you couldn’t get to Arthur to answer your questions you were going to the next best place. Lebanon Kansas. Maybe the bunker would be there or maybe you would find nothing and get some closure as to whether Arthur’s world was real or not.

If Sam and Dean Winchester existed maybe they knew how to get in contact with Arthur. But was that what you wanted? Arthur back? His smiling face at the pub your final night in London flashed in front of your eyes. He was a man of many sides, maybe you had given up on him too soon.

#supernatural #fanfic #spn fanfic #arthur ketch #ketch x reader #spn smut

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purplesurveys · 6 years

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254

What type of movies do you get into the easiest? I’d be drawn to anything as long as it isn’t a western, comedy, fantasy, or overwhelmingly crime.

If you could learn to play any instrument, what would you pick? Piano. That got away from me.

What is it about a stranger that makes you interested in them? If they speak intelligently, I’d want to know them immediately.

Are you materialistic? Aren’t we all...

Do you think more with your heart, your mind or your body? Sometimes heart, sometimes mind.

What types of things fascinate you? Horror, cultures, pro wrestling.

Do you think it’s all right to completely ruin someone’s life on purpose? If it’s like a pedophile’s or a rapist’s life then yeah totally.

What are your opinions on bullying? I don’t think there’s ever an excuse for it. Even if you say that it’s got something to do with the bully’s personal life, that doesn’t mean they could go right ahead and ruin a smaller kid’s day. I was quite the bully before and even I think that’s bullshit and shouldn’t be a free pass to start being an asshole.

If you were a writer, what type of stuff would you most likely write? News, editorials, similar articles.

Do you have any mental disorders or diseases? I’m positive that I do, but in my almost 20 years of existence I haven’t gotten myself checked. I can’t led my parents find out.

How do you feel upon seeing someone who’s missing an appendage? I get curious about how it happened and want to approach them so they get to tell their story; I don’t judge.

Do you feel you’re more beautiful inside or out? Inside. I do my best to make people happy and feel loved because heaven knows all of us need those these days. I don’t really pay attention as to how I look.

Do you let music move your body, or do you hold back? Hold back, definitely. Even when I’ve had a little to drink - you would never see me letting loose. Dancing just isn’t my thing.

Are you willing to do whatever it takes to have fun? Anything is a huge stretch. I’ll pass.

What is something that is often on your mind (besides specific people)? How worried I am about this semester being that I have four terror profs. One has high standards, one knows her shit, one is a bitch, and the other is a Mega Bitch who embarrasses students. FUN! My mental health is in for a ride.

What kinds of feelings do your hobbies leave you with? Happiness and comfort.

Why is your favorite store your favorite? I don’t really have a favorite store. I buy from wherever a thing I need could be bought. Do you prefer touch screens to non-touch screens? Touch screen. It’d be refreshing to get to use a phone with buttons though.

Can you handle the stress of working in food/customer service? I’d never need to, as I’m an intelligent person who likes to have a real job. < Yeesh. My dad is an executive sous chef and is one of the most intelligent people I know. And it is most definitely a real job; he showed me around his office(s) when he brought me to the cruise ship he works in. Don’t discriminate and don’t invalidate. Anyway, while I realize that there are people who still think like this, I probably couldn’t. Mad respect to them for handling hundreds of entitled, screaming, angry customers every day.

Are you ever rude to people on purpose? If they’re rude to me first then I have the right to be rude back. But normally, no.

Can you feel the rush of energy a band brings when playing live? Oh my god YES. BRING ME TO PARAMORE PART II.

How do you feel when you’re around a lot of people you don’t know? Nervous. I always make it a point to be around a familiar crowd, because my anxiety could always pop up at any second.

Do you pick up on the feelings of others easily? Very. I’m super sensitive when it comes to that.

Would you let your child have a pet? Not their own, but yes I would want both a kid and a big dog.

Where were you raised and what’s it like? For the first quarter of my life I was raised in Tondo, which was the most liberating and stress-free time I’ve had since I was basically a kid of the streets. It made it easier to blend in and understand the jologs culture (Google it) while the rest of my upper-middle class friends are grossed out by it. For most of my life though I lived in suburban neighborhoods in Antipolo and it was mainly quiet, isolated, and boring.

Is there a reason behind your name? My parents say I was named after the singer Robyn, but they occasionally change their answer when I ask where my name came from. Until now, I’ve never gotten to the truth.

Are you in love and if so, for how long? Yes. Five years.

How many times have you thought you were in love? I’ve only decided that I was once, and it is the same one I have now.

How did you know you were in love? I knew I wanted to be with her for a very, very long time. I felt comfort with her presence. That’s simply it.

Have you done drugs and if so, which was the best? Never.

Do you recycle, or do you feel guilty about not recycling? Sure. I segregate more often, though.

Have you ever been sexually educated? Nope. Had to piece it together all by myself when I was around 11. That’s how it works in the Philippines.

Did you attend public or private school? The education system works different here, but just to answer the question I went to private school all my life. My university is public, though.

Are you an only child or do you have siblings? I have two siblings, both younger.

What age did you lose your virginity? 18.

What will your life be like in twenty years? Hopefully financially stable. And with a kid. Or kids.

Have you ever offended a celebrity? Yeah. CM Punk has me blocked. Understandably so, though; I was a little prick of a fangirl at the time.

Would you marry someone if you thought their parents were insane? It would be a problem but I don’t think it’d lessen or tarnish what I felt for my partner. Thankfully I don’t have to face this because my girlfriend’s parents are the kindest, sweetest people.

Have you ever been at home and wondered where everyone went? No, but I’ve woken up* and thought the same thing.

Did you know grape juice and baking soda can be used as invisible ink? Cool. I’ll keep that in mind if the need to use invisible ink rises.

Is it fun to be mean to little kids? It’s always good fun to tease them, but I could never be mean to one–unless they’re a huge asshole at like 5 (which happens a whole lot.) My mother has been continually mean to me all my life and I remember every single crappy thing she did when I was a kid myself.

Have you ever wanted to be a teacher so you could be mean to little kids? No, that’s the worst. But some teachers are so disgustingly mean that this question is making me think that they applied to be a teacher solely so that they had the space to be like what they are. Hi, Ms. Belen, Sir Ruel, and Sir Johnny!

Have you ever been embarrassed to discuss something with a doctor? A little. I had a hickey on my belly the day of my medical exam, and when she was checking my bare torso she saw it and tapped on it and asked me what it was. I was flustered and said I didn’t know before insisting I was fine then she moved on. My dad was waiting outside so he couldn’t find out lmao.

Do you enjoy talking to people over webcam? No, because the Internet connection here is a huge hassle.

Is there a video game that you have beaten everyone you challenged at? Nope, I don’t play video games to beat people; mostly just to roam around in open world games, really.

Would you ever push someone into the middle of the street? I don’t think I would have the balls to.

Are you desperate for things to change? No.

Do you talk to people about your problems? Just my girlfriend, and sometimes Angela.

Have you ever become unconscious? Welp other than sleeping, I’ve fainted a few times before due to hunger.

Do you hate being the first person to start a conversation? Sometimes.

Would you rather die or eat another human being? I think I’d much rather die than having to resort to cannibalism. In any situation.

Do you think people who say that they ‘don’t have regrets’ are telling a lie? I always say I don’t have regrets and my reasoning for it is that the now-wrong thing I did or had was what I wanted at the time, and I’m not gonna invalidate what I wanted before. Yes, I’ve had stupid decisions, but I don’t like the idea of taking them away from me by regretting them. And I don’t lie about this, so... that’s your answer.

How many cups of coffee do you have to drink to totally become hyper? Not sure. I don’t drink coffee to be hyper.

Do you ever get hyper off of sugar? I don’t think that has ever happened, no.

Would you ever become a psychologist? How about a psychiatrist? I wish. I wanted to and still want to take up BS Psych and work in that field, but alas I’m stuck somewhere else.

Do you know what the difference between a psychiatrist and psychologist is? I do.

Does/did the last person you text messaged go to the same school as you? Nope, she studies like two cities away.

Is there anything worrying you? Right now I just want my phone to be as alive and USEFUL while I wait for my dad to come home and lend me his iPhone because that’s how most people contact me. Mine is practically useless and dies after using for like 20 minutes.

If so, have you talked to anyone about it? Yeah I told my dad about it, said I had to wait 14 more days before he gets back and deals with it.

What colour are the eyes of the last person you held hands with? Dark brown.

Is it possible to be “just friends” with someone you have feelings for? Yes, if you haven’t admitted it at all. Not so much, if you’ve admitted and they’ve said they don’t feel the same.

Is there someone of the opposite sex that you can talk to about anything? No.

Are you looking forward to anything? YESSSSS. There’s a vegan place on campus now and I plan to try it later and I’m way too excited for it.

Should you be doing something else right now? Eating breakfast and getting ready for school.

Is it important to be on a similar intelligence level as the person you’re with? That is very important to me, yes.

What’s your favorite Ben & Jerry’s flavor? I’ve never tried Ben & Jerry as it’s ridiculously expensive here, where B&J is seen as one of the snootier imported brands. It’s like 575 pesos for a small ass pint. That’s $11 for something I can finish in one sitting, and believe me that’s overpriced in the Philippines. I’d much rather buy the local 1.5L tub of cookies and cream ice cream for P245/$5.

What do you really watch on TV in the middle of the night? I don’t even watch TV during the day.

What’s your favorite song to sing in the shower? I don’t sing in the shower.

Have you ever had your phone taken away at school? No. I never brought it at least until the latter months of the school year when the teachers stop caring, since surprise inspections are a thing in my old school.

How old were you the first time you dyed your hair? I’ve never done it.

What do your slippers look like? I don’t use slippers around the house. I never got use to it as I didn’t grow up doing it.

Do you think your ex still wants to be with you? She did. Now she is with me.

Where were you two hours ago? I was in bed, sleeping.

Has anyone ever cried in your arms? Yes.

What was the last thing you randomly decided to buy on the spur of the moment? I reeeeeally try to avoid impulse shopping now, hahaha. It’s worked so far, since I can’t give you an answer to this question.

Do you get along with your best friend’s parents? Yes, I love both Angela’s and Gabie’s parents :(

What’s the closest thing to you that’s blue? My school bag.

Are there any foods that you love but can’t eat, for any reason? Thankfully nope.

Are you hiding something from someone at the moment? No.

What flavor was the last ice cream you ate? Cookies and cream.

Have you ever told anyone that you never wanted to lose them? Yeah along the lines of that. Then Sofie faded out of my life. Then Gabie was away from the picture for a while. Shit happens, and that’s okay.

First name of the last person to text you? Gabie.

What are your plans for the weekend? Drown in readings for my Tuesday class.

#survey #surveys

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bboiseux · 7 years

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Twin Peaks: The Return Parts 17 and 18 First Impressions

Twin Peaks: The Return Parts 17 and 18 First Impressions I'm supposed to be working, but I cannot stop thinking about the end of The Return, so let's do this.

Note: This is based on a single viewing. God knows, I'm not going to have a chance to do much in the way of a rewatch, as much as I would like to

tl;dr: The Return makes perfect sense, it just might not be the sense you want.

Background: I am a big fan of David Lynch's work. But that doesn't mean I like all of his work. I'm not actually much of a fan of the original Twin Peaks, but I love Fire Walk with Me. Actively despise Wild at Heart, but have a soft spot for Inland Empire. What I'm saying is that I admire Lynch's craft and much of what he does, but that doesn't mean I like everything that he produced.

What I admire in Lynch is his ability to create very specific experiences in the viewer, explore theme as the main point of his films, and create an engaging narrative. His films are at their best when they do all three of these things cohesively. I think he succeeded at this in Eraserhead, Fire Walk with Me, Mulholland Dr, and Inland Empire. Eraserhead and Fire Walk with Me are probably the best. Mulholland Dr is weaker, I think, because it prioritizes narrative over theme. And Inland Empire is weaker because it prioritizes themes over narrative.

For the films I dislike, I'm just going to leave this here: I may be one of the few people who loves the work of Lynch and cannot stand Blue Velvet.

The Impression Parts 17 and 18 of The Return are the keys that tell you exactly what Lynch has been doing for the previous 16 hours. After this first watch I am disappointed, unsurprised, and impressed. I still love The Return. It is an amazing 18 hours of television. But I am also disappointed because until this point what had made it amazing was the way Lynch was merging narrative and theme. And in 17 and, especially, 18, he pulls them apart. It is unsurprising because Inland Empire (his most recent film work) is largely theme over narrative. And it is impressive because I really do appreciate that he is willing to do this, even though it will alienate a large segment of his audience.

Random Thoughts:

First things first: For all that is can be alienating: 18 is a better overall hour of television than 17 because it is doing something very specific, while 17 (for the first half) is ticking off plot beats.

The most disappointing thing to me is the degree to which much of the narrative push of the season feels rushed through. Although I had to laugh at Cooper not even really being the vehicle for the defeat of Mr. C (which is also thematically connected to everything that happens in the rest of 17 and 18).

I don't care if it was obviously what was going to happen, let's not have one of the few non-white people turn into a white person.

Damn, Julee Cruise did not get her day. She is clearly just an insert and 17 and 18 are meant to just bleed without interruption into each other. This leads into . . .

17 felt rough--like it was a bunch of pieces slammed together. This started with . . .

The sloppiest bit of writing in the season: the Judy revelation that opens the episode.

17 may be my least favorite episode of the season.

Thank goodness that sex scene happened. When Diane was freed and kissed Cooper, I couldn't believe a show that was about sexual violence against women was ignoring her rape. And then the sex scene happened and it showed that it wasn't ignoring it. It was showing the consequences.

Analysis In my last post I said there were four main threads: Cooper/Mr. C; Sarah/Laura; Naido/Diane; and Audrey. Well, turns out I was right and the narrative threads (Cooper/Mr. C and Naido/Diane) resolved about as expected. Now the thematic threads (Sarah/Laura and Audrey) turned out to be the core of the thematic turn that started from the point Diane was awakened and ran to the end of the series. Because they do not resolve as clear extensions of the narrative that has been set up, but create new narratives from the back half of 17 and all of 18, let's look at the meaning of these elements:

1)The central theme of Twin Peaks is sexual violence against women. This is obscured in the original series, but made explicit in Fire Walk with Me. This theme is heavily prevalent in The Return with multiple storylines involving violence against women and Mr. C/Bob continuing to sexually abuse women, including women central to Cooper's life.

2) Sarah and Laura appear to be opposing forces, but I think the truth is more complicated than that. The scene of Sarah in the bar in 14 is both horrifying and set up as cathartic. That guy was designed to represent a very specific form of threat to women and Sarah's killing him is satisfying.

I highly doubt that Sarah is the girl in Episode 8 because what we see in her in 14 is the source of the bug (what I believe is called Mother?) @onceandfuturekiki posits that the girl is Cooper's mother and the bug produces Cooper. I'm not entirely convinced, but it seems to fit what happens in 18. This means

Laura is the solution to the evil that Bob represents.

Cooper comes from the same source as Bob.

Laura's death is what leads to the destruction of Bob.

3) Audrey and Cooper have always been in close parallel. In the original series, this goes so far as to involve them both being essentially killed, but not killed at the end of the series, trapped in limbo, and getting crappy replacement romances (and I liked Annie!). This parallel continues in The Return, which means that Audrey's story is thematically representative of Cooper's. What we know:

Audrey is fixated on finding Billy

Audrey likes Billy more than Charlie (and is fucking Billy)

Audrey cannot leave her house

When she does leave she is pulled into a replaying of her past, until . . .

She is violently pulled into reality.

What parallels should we see in Cooper?

Cooper is fixiated on finding Laura (Leland tells him to do this in Ep 1/2 and it is repeated in 18).

??Cooper likes Laura more than ??? (and is fucking Laura?)??

Cooper cannot leave Dougie (Ep 3 through 15)

When he does leave he is pulled into a replaying of his past in Twin Peaks (ep 16 and 17), until . . .

He is violently pulled into another reality (ep 18).

Remember how we were told that Audrey would play a key part in the story? This is it. She unlocks the meaning of the entire season. "What story is that?"

Let's deal with the odd point out first. If there is a sexual element to Cooper's "finding Laura," then it supports the idea that Cooper comes from the same place as Bob. I don't think this is supported by the series, but the parallel is there, so we need to pay attention to the possibility.

The rest of these parallels, however, are pretty obvious. The most important is that replaying the past is bad and also impossible (again, @onceandfuturekiki has great posts on this). Audrey's dance is both a "Yay!" and a "What?" moment that is violently interrupted by the reality of other people's concerns. She awakens into a harsh reality that we do not really see nor understand.

Likewise, Cooper escapes from Dougie and immediately springs into the classic Twin Peaks action, but when he gets there the result is a combination of "Yay!" and "What?" The resolution of the Cooper/Mr. C duality is overwhelming, violent, and confusing and only gets more confusing. Finally, Cooper awakens into the world of Odessa that we spend the end of the series in.

4) The Audrey and Sarah/Laura themes align:

Cooper "Fire Walks" with Mike and is able to go back and try and stop Laura's murder. This supports the idea that Cooper is of the Black Lodge. For all that Mike is helpful, he is not benevelent.

During the Diane/Cooper sex scene, the most horrifying thing is Cooper's face, which is Mr. C's face. We see here that Cooper and Mr. C are not distinct, that there are elements of Mr. C is Cooper. (It could also be argued that this is just a representation of Diane's perspective in that scene. I think both are true. We also see this harsher side in Cooper's scenes from that point on.) This also supports the Black Lodge connection.

Cooper's success undoes the good that Laura's death creates, including the destruction of Bob. By trying to change the past and eliminate the bad, Cooper destroys the good. Both sides are required.

As much as Sarah is darkness, she is also necessary. Laura is seen in Ep 8 as a golden orb. This is in opposition to Bob's dark orb, not Mother.

5) Mr. C is Cooper. I was about to say that I think the greatest weakness of The Return is that we do not get the darkness in Cooper seeded in the season, but that's wrong. That is the whole point of Mr. C. Remember, Mr. C is not Bob. He is the darkness in Cooper with Bob. We have spent the entire season watching the potential cruelty and violence in Cooper and in 18 we see the goodness of Cooper combined with that cruelty and violence. Watch the diner scene. Watch Cooper's interactions with Carrie. He is driven by good, but his empathy, his connection to others, is gone.

Conclusion

This is all the meaning I can work out right now. I would have preferred that the end of The Return be more narratively coherent with the threads that were set up earlier, but it is certainly thematically coherent and the deeper I think about it, the more it makes sense. This is Lynch, the theme is always the driving force of what he is doing, that is always the level of coherence. Sometimes it leads to satisfying narratives, other times not, but he certainly made something that works here.

Twin Peaks: The Return is fantastic. It is flawed, it is aggravating at times, but it is also surprising and inspiring. For every frustration there is a great reward. I hope to be able to watch it again, although I suspect it will be in the distant future.

#twin peaks #twin peaks spoilers #tw spoilers

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