#also correct me if i’m wrong didn’t one of the girls say she’s basically homeless .
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“i’m gonna take legal action” well coming from the man who paid an astrophysicist to prove himself wrong that is not the gotcha he thinks is
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Bad Witches (0.3)
Some towns sleep more than they’d care to admit. They claim to be the town that never does, but they sleep. They bustle until the wee hours when even the traffic lights must catch shut eye. (This is the leading cause of late night car accidents, in fact). But not in Riverwake. No matter the hour, Riverwake is alive and in motion. At the peak of dawn, the rumble of mechanized street cleaners is something of an alarm: A new day is here. The only challenge is survival. The road is now adequately shiny.
On a day this beautiful, a person would be mad to waste even a second of it inside. This is why when the coven meets at their favorite restaurant, Giorgio's, for cocktails and gossip, they ask for outdoor seating, beneath a veil of dark gray umbrellas.
After the waiter brings around the first tray of flutes, Bev flags him down and whispers in his ear. When he returns, he has a pitcher filled to the brim with a hazy, dim yellow. He places it at the center of the table and walks off to attend to other diners.
Shrugging, Bev says, "Save him some trips."
During a third round of mimosas, Kate off-handedly mentions her father-in-law and his rocky relationship with his son, but that he thinks gifting Dan membership to their familial country club is effective enough as tension relief. Dan's typically too busy to take advantage of it, she says.
"But you still want to," says Bev, drinking from her orange-tinted glass.
"I didn't say that," says Kate.
"You didn't have to," Bev says, swatting at the air, "Does anyone else hear that buzzing? What is that? Do you think a WASP snuck in?" The other witches attempt to stifle their giggles.
Turning bright red, Kate leans back into her seat, clutching at her glass and bringing it closer to her face so as to slightly cloud the next words she mutters, "I can invite guests, by the by."
The witches' ears perk up.
"You know, I don't think I've ever been to a country club," Matt says, "The wealthy have historically neglected basic hand-washing techniques. Seems like a petri dish, but in a higher tax bracket.”
"I'm from the country. And I've been to a club. Does that count?" Haley asks, still nursing her first mimosa.
"What should we wear?" Bev asks.
Kate sets her glass down to refill it from the orange pitcher, "Dress for spring."
So, they do. The next morning, they are all casual shorts and solid-colored polos and white visors. Only, it's a month away from the dead of winter and it's the middle of Massachusetts. Bev, Matt, and Haley stand outside of the given address and, with their miserable shaking, resemble a group of very posh street urchins.
Kate arrives in a cozy-looking fur-lined parka and upon seeing the other witches' bewildered expressions, snuggles affectionately into the mink hood, "Teach you to mock me."
The other witches follow Kate into the almost intimidatingly large, red-bricked building. What are presumably wings stretch nearly a kilometer in each direction.
"One of you couldn't have ch-checked the weather before leaving the house?" Bev admonishes, one shiver away from legally qualifying as an icicle.
"T-throwing a lot of stones in that g-glass igloo, aren't you?" Haley asks.
The combination of central circulated heating and at least two fireplaces (one in the den closest to the club's entrance; one in the more formal of the two dining areas) nearly melts the witches as they linger with Kate at the front desk.
"Okay, we're approved," Kate says, shaking hands with the attendant behind the desk, "Just don't touch anything."
"Damn. There goes my Grand Theft Itinerary," says Bev.
Looking at her sternly, Kate says, "Don't even joke about that. They will absolutely kick us out."
The witches huddle at the end of the entrance hall, dissecting the list of offered activities. Bev is interested in exactly none of them, but does wish to examine their stock of spirits. Matt begins spraying himself with hand sanitizer the moment he notices how many of the items have a "Group Activity" label.
A woman in a calf-length Houndstooth coat walks past the group but stops to gaze at Kate's jacket, fawning over its charm and subtle glamour. She asks if Kate also bought her coat from Nordstrom. She then asks if Kate plans to play in a tennis match later.
Kate happily confirms that, yes, she will be playing. They chat for a little longer and Kate is still smiling when the woman bids her farewell and walks further into the club's interior.
"How are you going to play?" Matt asks, pointing to the tennis poster pinned to the cork bulletin board at the lobby entrance, "It's Doubles and three of us will likely solidify if we venture outside."
"Oh, we're still playing tennis. Do you know how much I had to bribe the babysitter to come on such short notice?" asks Kate, "They have a heated indoor court," she says, taking off her coat to reveal a sensible, pale beige skirt and thin, rust red pullover.
"Oh, they're fancy fancy," says Haley.
Kate finds the sports center in the left wing, guided by the rambunctious sound of middle aged aerobics. It is a vast gymnasium filled with varied exercise equipment and a bounty of helpful regimens: elliptical trainers, stair masters, Homeless Person Avoidance Training, medicine balls, etc. There's even a rock climbing wall mounted in the back. There are no cables attached to it for fear that people may actually wish to use it, but it has its scenic benefits. She then sees the tennis court, a green square girded with a chain link fence. She spies the sign-up sheet on a plastic folding table at the entrance and begins scrawling her name.
As she flourishes the Barston-ending 'n' and admires her penmanship, an unexpected voice takes her by surprise.
"You're in the way," says the voice and Kate notices that it belongs to the robust, older gentleman looming behind her. He is accompanied by a smaller, leaner fellow and together they look like a before and after advert for malnutrition.
Kate nearly leaps out of the man's direction when she notices her folly. "Sorry! I wasn't paying attention."
"Never seen you here before," says the shorter, wheat blond man.
"Yes, I'm a new--" begins Kate, holding out her hand in anticipation of a handshake.
"Who's your husband?" interrupts the other man, a gray halo of hair situated on the perimeter of his scalp.
"I'm not sure how--" starts Kate, slowly lowering her hand.
"That's how you got in, right?" he asks as he bends down to add his own name to the roster, "Bring the 'Girls' for a 'Fun Weekend' at the country club and then fuck off to whichever Wellness Spa you crawled out of?"
"That's--" Kate tries to interject.
"We promise not to beat you too badly later, okay?" the blond interrupts as he saunters off, followed shortly by his friend.
She is left standing alone at the front of the sports center, not entirely sure she has correctly interpreted the preceding events. In her mind, she loops through their meeting again and again, wondering what she did wrong. When she does realize that she, in fact, ‘Just Got Dunked On’, grim is not the right word to describe the aura she emanates. It's pretty close, though.
Kate staggers into the common area and, seeing the rest of her coven lying haphazardly across an island of recliners, plops into one of the vacant chairs. Her entire demeanor is a haggard sigh.
Trading concerned looks, the witches aren't sure who should handle this. They play "Rock, Paper, Sigils" while Kate slumps further into the padded leather. The agreed upon worst candidate for helping someone through distress is also apparently really bad at games of chance because when she loses, Bev swears under her breath.
Bev very tepidly strokes Kate's back and whispers, "Now, now. Emotions are..." she gulps, "Perfectly normal. I have them all the time." She retches.
Taking Kate's hand, Matt asks, "What happened?"
A full body sigh later and Kate appears to have summoned the drive to retell the tale. By the time she's through, the witches bear the expressions of those personally wronged. How dare anyone make fun of Kate? And not even behind her back like a decent person. WASPS have feelings, too.
"You should've led with that," says Bev, cracking her knuckles, "I'll kill them."
Matt nods, "I don't know about getting someone else's blood on me, but yes, murder seems in order."
Haley can't believe what she just heard. She really can't. She stopped listening halfway through to stare at someone she thought might be her Little League coach. But why would they be here, ten states away in this country club common area? It just doesn't make sen-- Oh, no, that's someone else, nevermind. Oh, god, now everyone's looking at her. Make something up, make something up.
"Like a flock of crows in V-formation," says Haley. Nailed it.
"You guys... you have no idea how much this means to me," says Kate, a welling in her eyes, "I know with you by my side, Bev, we can--"
"Oh, yeah, no, I don't want to play," Bev corrects.
Clearly disappointed, Kate's face sobers a little, but she looks to Matt with hope.
"Sorry, me either. I didn't mean to mislead you," says Matt, sincerely apologetic.
Kate feels as though the dinghy she just acquired footing in has capsized beneath her.
Haley smiles.
Kate looks to her nervously, but the smile only widens. "Have... you ever actually played tennis?" Kate asks.
"Sure, I played a little at home," Haley says. Kate sighs.
"Of course, we had wooden rackets and the strings were made from goat guts, but how different could it be?" Haley asks. Kate sighs again and internally resigns to her fate, but still intends on having a very fun, very non-competitive time.
On the court, shortly before their starting match, Haley tests the weight of the carbon fiber racket. She tosses it from hand to hand and gives a few practice swats. Once, she sends the racket flying, leaving her to run to the middle of the court and retrieve it.
Their first few matches - one with a couple from Denver and the other with the woman they encountered in the lobby and her "chiropractor" who is definitely only half her age because it helps to be young and limber in his profession. Definitely - are nothing to write home about. Haley's home, in particular, is where you should not be writing to. Because they would not be very impressed with her performance. But after getting used to how light this inferior plastic racket is, the aerodynamics of its slender frame, the whistle of its whip through the air, she feels a touch more comfortable.
This comfort is promptly squished like a windshield mosquito when their next opponents enter the fence. Kate's heart falls when she recognizes the sheen of one man's head and the smarm on the other's lips, but her face is unflinching steel.
"Didn't think you'd still be here," the blond says, his eyes a sneer.
The walking comb over assumes his place across the court and, beginning to stretch, says, "They wanted to lose to real men. I don't blame 'em."
Haley exhales. The match begins.
For the first set, the court is a frenzy of movement. Rhythmic thwacking echoes across the gymnasium. The squeaking of sneakers, the breathy grunts upon each impact, the flicked beads of sweat as they dart to strike the racket. All four are giving it their all.
But Kate and Haley are just too accurate. Too fast. Too relentless in their fury.
Nearing the end of their third set, Kate and Haley have dominated the game, easily leading over their opponents' hefty score of one. What was only meant to be a playful diversion sees the girls one favoring play away from taking the whole kit 'n' caboodle. Reigning victorious. But, like, in a fun, non-competitive way.
This is what it all comes down to.
"They would be good at this," huffs the gray-haired man to his partner, "Chicks and tennis." He serves the ball, and Haley, in her distraction, swings and misses. A green blur zips by her head.
The gray-haired man chuckles, "I think that's our point."
"One of them even looks like Serena," his blond partner wheezes hoarsely. They burst into ill-concealed snickers.
"One more round?" Kate asks, bouncing a tennis ball.
"One more round," Haley concurs.
They trade the tennis ball back and forth with their opponents, the net flapping with every pass. For a few tosses, they are very light swings, measured and contained. But in one of her connections with the ball, Kate applies a considerable amount more force to the racket. The tennis ball responds with equal vigor, shooting from her racket's wired face and careening toward the other side of the court.
But it never hits either of the men's rackets. Or makes contact with the ground. It simply floats and whirls at a standstill just past the net.
No one moves a muscle.
The silent stillness of the moment is broken when the blond man appears to muster the confidence to approach the green rotation. He seems to have descended from glaciers with the time it takes him to close the gap. Mere inches away, he stares up at the tennis ball in the exact way that you're not supposed to stare at the sun.
He lifts his hand and reaches slowly upward with an extended finger.
The ball, still in a rapid spin, yet frozen in mid-air, comes undone and pelts the blond directly between the eyes. He goes to the ground and rolls onto his back, his scream slightly muffled by the hands now covering his face.
Exclaiming his name, the gray-haired man runs over to kneel and assist his partner.
Focused on tending to his friend, he is blissfully unaware when, under Haley's intense stare, his shoestrings loosen and then intertwine, lacing together.
"I think that's our point," says Haley.
The man clambers to a stand and starts off toward her with a warning, huffy "Why, you little..." before tripping and spilling to the ground like a freshly slingshotted Goliath.
The blond, a red burn at the center of his face, goes to help him, but his shorts sink quickly to his feet and he falls in a tangle to the green mat.
"That's set," says Kate.
"And match," says Haley.
They grasp hands in a high five and make their way to the fenced door.
As they exit the court, Haley shouts back to the groaning men, "And I would love to look like Serena! She's a goddamn Amazon!" Even after they've exited, Haley can still be heard shouting, "An Amazon!"
They've made it halfway into the main house when they run into Matt just outside of the kitchen, wearing a black apron, stamped with the country club's logo.
"Why are you--?" Haley begins before Matt raises a hand and cuts her off with a sharp breath.
"I went to the restaurant to sample their Chateaubriand," he says, pulling the apron strings over his head, "But someone mistook me for a waiter and one thing led to another, and I report for duty at 9 am."
Slinking down the hall to join them, Bev says, "That's really going to confuse your students."
"Where have you been?" Kate asks.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you guys about," she says.
Occasionally looking over her shoulder to ensure she's not being followed by any of the club's staff, Bev leads the coven to the rear section of the expansive building. Despite the recently watered ficuses, it doesn't appear as though this area of the club receives much visitation.
Taking another cursory look, Bev waves the witches into a room and closes the door behind her. Once she flicks the light on, an old ballroom comes into focus. The dusty, white grand piano, tucked in the room's corner, has uneven keys. The floor is cedar coated in a thoroughly scuffed varnish.
At the center of the room is a freshly painted and ornamented circle, surrounded in thick, off-white candles.
"You've been busy," Kate says.
"Since we got here, I've sensed a mass of souls, trapped just beneath the floorboards," says Bev.
"I felt it, too," says Matt, "I suspected it was just the unease that comes with being in a country club."
"There's that, too," Bev says.
Bev stomps on the floor and a chorus of weak groans ekes up, "That's at least 30? Maybe 40 unhappy ghosts." She locks eyes with Kate, hesitates for a moment, and says, "We have to do something."
Kate, all out of sighs for the day, brings her hands together and lets them go with a deep breath. "Okay," she says, "What do we do?"
There's no boom box available to blast "Wannabe" while they work, so their preparation lacks a distinct Spice, but they each have their jobs and they each complete them with an expected diminished enthusiasm.
Once Kate's finished lighting the candles, Haley flips the light switch and they take their positions.
Because it was her idea, Bev heads the ritual, and thus initiates the throaty, guttural chanting. As she nears the end, like a musical round, another witch starts from the beginning. And the cycle continues until, thrumming like a locust swarm, the coven is in overlapping cacophony.
As their chanting increases in volume and an impossible wind whips their hair to and fro, the candle flames grow into angry blazes. And in an instant, they extinguish.
And the room goes dark.
Then, suddenly, light returns as a host of faint, blue-white specters encircle the witches. As a few seconds pass and they regain more human forms, a great variety of age among them, the "Leader" of the group, a weathered man in an eagle feather-adorned headdress, nods to the coven. One by one, their forms dissipate. Soon, they've all faded, leaving one little girl, clutching a small toy bunny. She waves at the witches and too disappears.
The candles flicker back to life.
"So good of you to release them," Kate says, laying her hand on Bev's shoulder, "The afterlife will be kind to them."
"Right. Release," Bev says, tapping Kate's hand.
From outside of the ballroom there comes a scream. Looking a smirking Bev in the eyes, Kate pulls her hand away and makes for the door.
The chaos encapsulating the country club can be heard in its full intensity the moment Kate cracks the door open.
It's difficult to decipher exactly what is transpiring: a typhoon of well-clothed, well-fed patrons bounds in every direction. They wail and beg and stumble over each other, flown after by a roaring cavalcade of translucent figures.
The witches watch as the little girl who thanked them earlier flies through the bottom of a couple's table and into their roasted duck, chasing them with scornful, flailing drumettes as they scream for mercy.
Kate's face gets in the way of her palm.
"You know, I saw a hand sanitizer dispenser in the bathroom," says Matt, "Maybe this place isn't so bad after all."
#i'm sure i'll catch a bunch of typos and things i want to edit later#but here's snippet 3#Bad Witches
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PLEASE SHARE IT. PLEASE, I NEED IT.
ASK AND YA SHALL RECIEVE
Keep in mind I was about 12-13-ish when I wrote it and I was in my angsty stage so this gets a bit dark pft
here are the first 2 chapters -there are like 9 in total I think- if ya want the fnaf one then tell me bc I actually have to translate it and everything bc I wrote it in Spanish lol
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TW mentions of abuse sorta and alcoholism
"Come back here you lil' shit!!!"
"I'll kill ya, I swear to God I'll kill ya!!!"
I could hear him behind me, stumbling and crashing into things, with that stupid glass bottle in his hand.
I have to keep going or he will really kill me. I kept running zig-zagging through the trees trying to lose him.
"You little fuck!!! How dare you run away from me after all I've done for you?! I was the one that gave you a roof under your head, the one that fed you and took care of you and THIS is how you repay me?!"
Yea right. I'd rather be in the streets than have to live with you in that damned house again. C'mon (Y/N) you're almost there!!
"I'll do the same thing I did with them to you!! You'll end up like all those kids, like all those dirty bastards!"
CRASH!
A flash of lightning crashed behind me.
Keep going, keep going.
Suddenly, as I keep climbing up I see something.
A cave.
Yes!! Now I can finally get rid of him! I quickly started climbing, finally getting into the cave. It was really chilly, but it would at least protect me from the rain, and since it was nighttime and he was drunk he'd have no chance of finding me.
Or that's what I thought.
"Ahh, there you are my dear (Y/N)~
You are quite slippery you know? You remind me so much of her, my little Frisk. But you both had to escape from me didn't ya. Do you know what happened to Frisk dear?"
He chuckled and came closer, while I was walking backward trying not to stumble.
"I killed her." He smiled. " It was an accident, I didn't want to, but she was being a naughty little girl~ [EW WTF WHY DID I WRITE IT LIKE THAT LMFAO GREAT WAY TO MAKE HIM CREEPY AF AMANDA]" he came closer, and the smell of booze reached my nose.
"G-get away from me you creep!"
He laughed and pushed me, making me stumble and fall down. I tried to crawl away but then he started kicking me.
IM ALSO NOT PUTTING THIS PART BC IT WAS CROSSING THE LINE A BIT AND I WANTED TO MAKE IT DARK ANYWAY THE THING IS THIS SHIT ESCALATED REALLY QUICKLY AND I GASPED BC HOLY SHIT WHAT WAS WITH ME
Basically, he said more creepy shit bc I wanted to make him a huge asshole, but I still don't feel comfortable putting it and I'm sure for other ppl its uncomfortable too so uh, lets just say the guy was just really really bad and wanted to do really bad things to uhh, the reader
This, this guy had the nerve to- ugh!!
"S-stop it"
He quickly grabbed me by my hair and brought my face closer so we were locking eyes.
"Y'know no one cares about you! You're nothing! But if you stay with me you'll see I can be a good guy! I promise I will treat you better! I will do anything for you. You just have to be a good girl and stay in your room."
"No!!"
I quickly spit on him and kicked him in the stomach. I was not going back there, not going to suffer through all that again. I got to my feet and ran deeper and deeper into the cave
"You can't escape (Y/N)~" I heard from behind me.
I ran faster. I'm not going to let him win. I'm not.
" You'll just end up like Frisk!"
Crash!!!
I yelped and tripped on a vine, falling into a hole, hearing his echoed taunts getting farther and farther away.
Is this it?
Is this how I die?
Will I really end up like Frisk?
No.
I won't die. I can't die. Not today.
Those were my last thoughts before I was surrounded by darkness.
Chapter 2 [this one is more fun I lol]
"You little bitch!"
"Come back here!"
"You'll end up just like Frisk"
"I promise we'll get out of here....
Frisk"
I woke up with a start. My head dizzy from the fall.
Where...am I? Who's Frisk? Why can't I remember anything...? Hold on, did I loose my memory? What the-
"Heck!!" I heard someone say behind me. I quickly turned around, and saw a kid who looked to be around my age, floating a few feet away from me. Their hair was up to their shoulders and they were wearing shorts with a cute green stripped sweater.
"Seriously?! And just when I get used to being dead?! Do you hate me that much world!?" The kid yelled while waving their fist at the top of the cave.
Huh.....
Wait.....
Dead?
Am I dead?
If so where the heck am I?
Is this what the afterlife is like? Being stuck with a 10 year old ghost kid? Is it because of that one time I stole a ring pop from John? Because if it is he totally deserved it, he wasn't even gonna eat it!
"Am I really dead..?" I whispered.
Suddenly the ghost kid turned around and looked at me.
"Wat?" They asked.
"Am...am I dead?" I looked at my palms trying to figure out what was going on.
The kid sighed.
"No. You're not dead you dummy, you just fell down into the Underground, and somehow that awoke me...huh... that's weird."
Oh. So I'm not dead. That's nice I guess.
"Um, wait, the Underground?" I stood up, and stretched a bit, trying to check if everything was alright.
"Yea. With monsters and stuff. You just fell down from Mt.Ebott. You'd be the second human here to fall down."
Wait. The second one? I thought six more had disappeared in here a while ago.
"You mean the seventh human." I corrected them.
"Noooo, I mean the SECOND human, jeez are you deaf or something?"
They glared at me as if I was the dumbest person they had ever met.
"Nuh-uh. If there's one thing I remember is that 6 humans had fallen before me"
"Well then you remembered wrong because last time I checked I was the only one. That fall must've really damaged your brain" they chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. They really were stubborn and they were pretty rude too! If it were up to me I would've walked away by now but since I am down here somewhere I don't know with MONSTERS, I should really have an ally and they seem to be my only hope. Maybe they're nice once you get to know them, so I should really try to befriend them.
"So uh, ghost kid...what's your name?" I looked at them with a sweet smile, trying to be friendly.
"My name is Chara. And I was the first human to fall down here. What's yours?"
"My what"
"Your name, you idiot. Don't tell me you forgot that too." They smirked.
"Pshh I didn't forget my name!" I puffed my cheeks and looked the other way. I honestly had no idea what my name was but I wasn't going to let that ghost kid treat me like a dumbass again.
"Fine then, what is it?"
Shoot.
"U-um i-its uh..."
Let's seeeeee... what's a good name? Oh jeez what are some good names I could use right now?
As I was panicking suddenly something came to my mind.
"Frisk." I said.
I have no idea who Frisk is, but it felt just right. And it was the first thing that popped into my mind so.
"Oh. That's a peculiar name. But we'll then, Frisk. What are you going to do? Do you want to go back to the surface?" They eyed me with curiosity. I honestly had no idea what I would do. But I just had this urge to go back to the surface. But there was nothing up in there for me was there? I mean maybe I had a family or something's that's looking for me right now. Or maybe I could just be a homeless nobody.
"Do you promise me we'll get out of here?"
"Yes. And we'll go and look at the stars in a field of golden flowers, like the ones in your book. It's a promise."
"I want to go back up."
That seemed to get Chara's attention.
"R-really? You want to go back up there? With those assholes?" They scoffed.
"Yep. I just feel as if I have something important to do over there. Like a promise."
"Ah...well, if you want I can show you the way! We can go meet these monsters, they took care of me while I was in here! They could help you!" They smiled and started going ahead of me.
"Uhm, sure, I guess! That'd be cool!" I said as I started walking behind them. If I manage to get those monsters' help, I'll be out of here and try to get my memory back and fulfill my promise.
CRINGY I KNOW BUT WERE GETTING TO THE PICKUP LINES AND THOSE ARE HILARIOUS IN A BAD WAY LMAO MAYBE I CAN LATER POST THE OTHER CHAPTERS PFT
Chapter 3
"So uh..Chara..will these people have food?" I asked while walking behind them.
"Food?"
"Yup"
"You're stuck in a place full of monsters and all you can think of is food?"
Before I could answer though, my stomach let out a loud growl. I giggled.
"I guess that answers your question."
We became quiet again until Chara turned around and looked at me.
"So how old are you?"
"I'm about to be twelve"
"You're pretty mature for a twelve year old" they scoffed.
"Well you're pretty immature to be whatever age you are."
Chara laughed.
"I'm thirteen. So that basically means you have to do everything I say since I'm the older one" they stuck their tounge out.
"That's not fair!" I proclaimed.
"The world isn't fair." The smirked.
"Your face isn't fair"
"Damn, Frisk, you got me" they said with mockery.
"Shut up"
They laughed and then looked at me with a serious expression. "No but really, if you want to survive here you'll have to listen to me or else you'll die. And if you abuse the SAVE point it'll stop working. If you loose determination too."
"Woah. Wait what? A save point? Determination? I am really confused right now"
"Ugh, I'll explain later. Right now we have to get to the RUINS."
"Is that were you lived when you were stuck down here?"
"Tch, why do you care? And I wasn't stuck. I lived here because it's the only place were murder isn't the first option and monsters aren't assholes."
"Hey, stop being so rude, I just want to find out more about you! I really want us to have a good relationship if you're stuck with me for a while!"
"Just mind your own business."
"Ughh you're so-"
I suddenly stopped walking when I saw a single gold flower in the middle of the path.
"Why'd you sto- ohh that's creepy."
"It's just a flower. It won't do anything."
I kneeled down to look at the flower better, for some reason this flower looked different than all the other ones.. I was about to reach out for it when all of a sudden the flower turned around and smiled at me.
"Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the Flower!"
What. The.
This flower could talk?! What?!
"Oooook Frisk this is definitely creepy, don't touch it and walk away."
I ignored Chara and smiled at the flower. They seemed friendly, so why not?
"Hey there! I'm, um, Frisk. I'm new around here."
Flowey noded and smiled at me.
"Oh! So since you're new you probably don't know how the Underground works! I guess lil' old me will have to teach you! Ready?"
"Frisk I'm not really getting good vibes from this guy." Chara said again, this time a little bit more serious.
"Shhh" I stood up and looked at Flowey, nodding.
"Thank you Flowey!! You're really nice! So how does this all wo-?"
Suddenly I was being surrounded by darkness, with Flowey standing in front of me.
"Where is-" I suddenly stopped talking when I saw a red...heart? In front of me.
"See that red heart over there?" Flowey asked me.
I nodded.
"That is your SOUL, the very culmination of your being!"
"Woahh, that's so cool!"
"Your soul starts off weak, but it can get stronger if you gain a lot of LV."
Suddenly Chara appeared beside me and shook their head.
"Frisk I don't think he-"
"Frisk! You may be asking: Flowey, what does LV stand for? Well, for LOVE of course!!"
Oh. I guess in here is not that bad if their policy is like the place where the Carebears live.
"Fris-"
"You want some LOVE don't ya? Well don't worry! I'll share some with you."
After he said that a few white pettals appeared in front of Flowey. I guess that's how you get some LV right?
"Frisk, I'm serious right now, do not touch the bullets."
I looked at Chara.
"Thanks but what bu-"
"DOWN HERE" Flowey yelled to get my attention. I turned to look at him with a nervous smile, he just rolled his eyes and kept talking.
"LOVE, is shared through some....little...white... friendliness pellets!"
Ok. Now that was definitely suspicious. And where those the bullets Chara was talking about before? Jeez this guy really got me, but I mean. He's a flower why in the world would he kill me?
"Are you ready Frisk?! Catch as many as you can!" Then, the...white friendliness pellets, started moving towards me. How in the world was he doing that?! This place is so weird, filled with talking flowers and dead kids suddenly becoming alive again. I just want to go home!
"Frisk!! Watch out!!" Chara yelled beside me.
"What?"
I looked at Flowey and saw the pellets getting closer to me. Before I had the time to dodge they got me and I felt a huge amount of pain. I fell to the ground on my knees, gasping for air, trying to make it go away.
What was happening?! I quickly looked behind me when I noticed that the yellow bar that was once full, was suddenly empty. It said 1/20.
Chara rolled her eyes.
"You dummy! Those were bullets! And to even top it off you have literally one hp left!"
"One hp...? Wait Chara what is goin-"
"You idiot." I heard a creepy voice say behind me.
I slowly turned my head around, looking at Flowey, with my eyes widening.
"F-Flowey?"
"In this world, it's killed or be killed!"
"Wha-what?"
"Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?"
"Chara!" I yelled trying to get up, but a couple of bullets appeared beside me and surrounded me, trapping me where I was.
"DIE. " I heard Flowey yell, while the bullets started closing in on me.
Maybe I could dodge them? Or find a way to escape? Where was Chara and why weren't they helping me?
I heard Floweys's laughter get louder and louder while the bullets got closer and I shut my eyes.
I guess this is the end now. I will really die. Did I seriously think I would survive in this Underground world? Really? They're monsters for God's sake! Of course I would die here. And I wouldn't be able to fill my promise. My eyes started tearing up. I could feel the bullets really close now, about to touch me when-
All of a sudden, a fireball hit Flowey in the face, making him disappear with the bullets. Chara appeared beside me.
"Phew! That was close! At least she got here in time! I told you he wasn't a good person Frisk! If you want to survive here you'll have to do exactly what I tell you to do, or else you'll die." They nagged me.
I tried standing up once again, trying to see who saved me.
"What a horrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth." Came a sweet voice from above me. I felt their hands go in my back and a weird warm feeling surrounded me.
When the warm feeling was gone, I didn't feel pain anymore. That was weird. I finally managed to stand up, and looked at the lady who saved me.
She's a.....goat? Lady? Monster?
She had a really pretty purple tunic, with a weird white symbol in the chest area.
She smiled at me and waved her hand.
"Ah do not be afraid my child. I am TORIEL, caretaker or the RUINS. I pass down here everyday to see if any humans have fallen down."
I looked at Chara, who looked to be about to cry. Maybe this was the monster they were talking about before? The ones that took care of them probably?
I shook my head and smiled at Toriel. She did look like she had good intentions, and yes, they did save me from that wretched flower. But I wasn't going to be dumb enough to fall into the same trap again, so this time I had to be cautious.
Toriel smiled back, and turned around, grabbing my hand.
"Come, my child, I will guide you through the catacombs!"
And with that, she grabbed my hand and walked with me, leading the way.
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Black, grey and white
Sounds really deep doesn’t it? It simply means good, bad and somewhat fitting into both categories. And actually it is even simpler I just need a rant. I spent too much time in the English Cheese in the trap comment sections and it really bugs me that especially starting with the Goodbye chapter Inho is seen as better than ever, practically a perfect little angel and Jung as worse than ever, the devil in person (if Inho’s the angel). So I decided to look at the good and bad qualities of both boys. I guess most if not all of their qualities fit in the grey category but I’ll try to consider what I think the most accepted opinions are among readers. Feel free to argue, to add to my lists or just simply comment, I love talking about CitT. Oh and I’ll edit, expand this post as my opinion changes and I think of new things to add to the lists. It’s not really continuous, and since it’s long I doubt people will read it, the sole purpose is to get this out of my system (and maybe start a nice discussion). I’ll also pepper it with some of my drawings I uploaded earlier to make it more fun. I try to be objective but it’s easy to guess my preferences, right? Let’s get started!
Inho’s biggest problem in my opinion is his selfishness and that he simply doesn’t understand that everything he does, including speaking (it’s closely connected to his rudeness) has its consequences. (insulting people in high school, putting down Inha’s art) It’s understandable that he is selfish as he had to look out for himself the better part of his life and I see it as a survival method (same with his sister Inha) but it can ruin his relationships with other people (all kinds of relationships). As a result, he doesn’t really value human relationships, especially friendship or at least he says so on more occasions (for example after the dinner at Seol’s, right before the fistfight of the boys). His treatment of his old co-worker and somewhat friend also demonstrates that. Leeching off people is also part of his selfishness, not caring if the other doesn’t have more money than him. But that’s something he showed in the first half of the story. His short temper and tendency to violence gets him in trouble especially because he rarely stops to think before he acts. He gets better with controlling his temper and does give up his pride to play piano again, although due to a push from outside. He refuses to look at things from other peoples point of view, what he sees and believes is the truth and changing his mind is really hard if not impossible (example: his belief that Jung broke his hand) He improved a lot, he’s better now at controlling his temper and sometimes sees the wrongs he did and tries to correct them (Inha). But himself, his pride is most important, always, even if he hurts others.
(Picture is webtoon Inhos opinion about his drama self. No question who wins if there is a fight. Text is by English Webtoon CitT commenter Celery)
Now Jung’s biggest problem is his manipulative behaviour, and it’s greatly disliked and frowned upon so it landed in the black zone. It’s very useful at times but it can also bring great harm. (stalking, homeless lady, unnamed kid nicknamed Chopin) Like Inho he also improved, his punishments are not as severe as earlier (Sangchul S4) But just like Inho looking out for himself, Jung uses manipulation mainly to protect himself and those he cares about. Since it’s effective I don’t think he will stop, ever, it’s a core part of him that can’t be completely changed, like Inho also stayed selfish and aggressive and rude, although better than at the beginning.
Being calculative is connected to Jung being manipulative it’s a trait that helps him with his plans and life. Likely also helps with work and helping Seol.
Another trait readers dislike is his mask of smile, he just wants to be left alone and probably has the least trouble this way. And why should he care for all the people around him, there are just too many and they don’t care either. But being rude to them doesn’t bring anything, either, so there you have it. It’s the opposite when he turns cold - that’s basically him being angry. He closes himself off so one can only guess what’s the problem. I consider that a bigger problem since it also affects his loved ones. It’s okay to cool off but if he stays a sad little clam, who can guess what caused trouble and how to correct things? I think Seol is slowly getting him to be more expressive but that also results in him being more vulnerable (S4 Ch66) and that his “bottle“ can’t hold that much - he keeps things to himself, bottling everything up but he can’t bear that as well as earlier. (S4 Ch 66 and 71) Bottling things up isn’t good, either, as he himself tells Seol, trying to get her to share her problems with him so he could help.
He’s quick to judge people and it’s hard to change his opinion (but not impossible) Yep, the number one example is Seol’s case.
Both boys have victim mentality, thinking what is theirs is taken or them receiving undeserved damage.
Done with the blacklists, moving to the grey questionable traits (actually most traits can be both harmful and helpful)
To tell people right away what he thinks is very typical for Inho (like when he told Seol she’s way out of Jungs league, bragging that he won the fistfight) so he appears genuine and honest to readers - but his truth is often distorted, just like Jung’s and while people see it with Jung, they often overlook it with Inho, believing his truth to be the ultimae truth. It has two sides and the real truth lies somewhere in between. Honesty is a great trait but it can cause just as much confusion and a biased view on the story. (And that drama didn’t help with that) Loud. Why did I put that there? Because some people aren’t bothered one bit by him starting to yell out of the blue while others can’t stand those kind of people. Inho is also not the smartest out there and he is aware of that. it’s not that bad but not good either. But it’s an important reason in my opinion for him not being a good match for Seol romantically even if they were in love. She is so much more intelligent and capable, I have no idea what those two would talk about if Seol doesn’t develop an interest in classic music and piano. I don’t think that would end well. Right now I don’t think he could be someone for Seol to lean on, he would get a lot from the relationship but - forgive me - he would be an additional burden for Seol. When he has built up his new life (S4 Ch76), I’m sure he’ll be a supportive, good partner to a suitable girl.
Now let’s look through Jung’s grey list. He is secretive and mistrusting, those two traits walk hand in hand, also his sensitivity. It’s good if you don’t burden others with every little thing and keep things safe but going extreme causes not only harm for others but for himself, too. I think one important cause of the misunderstanding between him and Seol was him being mistrusting and sensitive (actually Seol as well) It got worse with Seol again and again unintentionally making him appear to be weird in public. (staring at him as she observed him, snickering incident, when she talked to others right before dropping the papers that Jung kicked) That freaked him out more than anything since he doesn’t want to be the weird one his father stampled him to be ever since he was little. Sensitivity helped them to determine what kind of people they encounter but it also makes both of them judgemental.
Now let’s get to the good part. Inho is good at heart and if he cares, he really cares and tries his best to help. My favourite example is the pepper spray but he also tried to stop Younggon with his fists, although that didn’t discourage Younggon one bit but it still shows Inho cares. He is really passionate about playing the piano and is also talented. I put him being impulsive in the list trying to capture the good half of his brutal honesty and thinking before acting. In situations where quick acting is vital it’s very useful. Maybe I should have left it as honesty as I initially did but he caused too much harm with that (starting with Inha’s art and the unwanted nickname Dogfur) He’s a good boy but has lots of baggage.
Jung doesn’t have less baggage, just different, but that doesn’t make either him or Inho bad people. They are like most people out there with their own troubles and good qualities.
(That’s just an unfinished sketch because I wanted to draw them happy together.)
Now back to Jungs good points. He’s intelligent, he cares for Seol and tries his very best to please her (once it got through to him that she’s a good girl, not like he initially thought). I guess he could be more open, but if you leave him alone he’ll leave you alone, too. But he does care and he is obedient and listens to what others tell him and tries to act on that. He’s still trying to be like his father wants him, he listens to Seols wishes and even if he doesn’t show it, he even considers what people he dislikes tell him. Inho is a good example, when he told Jung that Inha is potential danger to Seol or when during their fistfight he told Jung that he’s bad for Seol, in the chapter where Jung actually ran to Seol for comfort it was shown that he did think about what Inho said and it made him uncomfortable. In S4 Ch76 we hear that Seol didn’t make it into Jung’s father’s company - I take it as Jung listening to Seols request to not use his influence to get her in there. (She must have had a bad day, otherwise she would have been accepted for sure, she is such a good worker) How odd now that I have the chance I can’t think of anything more to write so that’s it and here is one last picture, simply because it’s one of my favourite moments.
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On Raising White Daughters
Dear mothers of Black Daughters,
I understand that the ways we parent our babies has to be different. I will not judge you for your ways, and I ask that you won’t get upset at me when I allow my white daughter to be the weird kid who speaks up when things are unfair.
The world will correct her according to where it is, and she will speak out against it when it happens. I hope that she makes the world safer for Your Daughter. I hope I am making the world Safer for both of them right now, but I’m not that optimistic. But I am optimistic for generations to come, as have generations before us have been.
God gave me three daughters into this particular world. To me, that’s no accident. I am meant to learn something from these girls, while also stewarding and investing their lives through a world that will try to force them to conform: conform to the idea that they’re better and have more worth than your daughter when they Do Not. And I have to teach them to identify that lie early, before it’s too late. Before the world has the first say.
I have to raise my daughter differently.
I have to first teach my daughter that she is a woman, and there is pride in being a woman. Women come in all shapes and sizes and skin tones with all kinds of different hair. Women’s bodies are unique each and all, and do different things maybe, and sometimes maybe not.
When my daughter learns that she is a woman, she suddenly realizes she is part of a sisterhood of women, and will start to bond with her peers. Thank you for letting your daughter be one of my daughter’s first friends.
I have to teach my daughter to be an outspoken advocate for your daughter starting on day one.
I have to teach my daughter to break the system, so that when it breaks, it breaks for your daughter too.
I have to force my daughter to see the differences in your daughter and to get comfortable talking about race, boundaries, respect, and consent. I have to teach her before she goes to public school because she will be elevated--as I was--over your daughter every time, even though your daughter is smarter.
I have to teach her that your daughter is just as smart as she is, and that society will tell her otherwise.
I have to teach her about the wisdom of Black women, how to pay special attention to what Black mothers say, what Black sisters say, how to hold space for Black voices in a crowded room.
I have to teach her then, and only then, about the different ways that the world will treat her compared to your daughter. She will speak up for your daughter, but will she have the fortitude to fight for her when it is her money on the line? When she feels entitled to something? Will she still advocate for your daughter because it is the right thing to do, and not the comfortable thing to do?
She will never walk in the same shoes as a Black woman, and although she will feel the warmth of Black culture, I must teach her it is not ours to take. I have to teach her how to observe culture, support it, how to think critically, how to see and respect boundaries, and how to set boundaries of her own.
I must teach my daughter to see the ways that the world will try to change who she is, who she is right now deep inside: someone that loves her friends through everything, that will stick up for them behind their backs, that will tell them who is and isn’t safe. I must teach her to be a bridge while also being a wrecking ball.
I was just taught to be a wrecking ball, but the world trained me to demure and play like I wasn’t smart. To gently turn a head instead of force someone to see.
I’ve lived a life where I have been pushed and squeezed into a very uncomfortable box where women aren’t allowed to think differently, to answer first, to have a differing point of view than The Man Speaking.
I’ve lived a life where every partner has been abusive--looking to me to save their lives, be an in-shape sex symbol, hold intelligent (but not too intelligent) conversations, and also be a stand-in for their mothers.
I am seeing the direct consequences of not confronting and talking about Race play out in my own marriage. I talked about it a lot before we met, and yet I still had to wake up. How quickly I was lulled into complacency with more opportunity to participate in society, to get married, to have a family, to build safety after getting beaten up by a world that did not value women, and especially not Autistic women.
I MUST change this cycle.
I Must educate my girls about the real ways of the world.
I also Must teach my daughter that the world is Wrong about her. That there is an ideal to fight for: one in which it won’t matter what she wears, where she can go on a run at night and not worry about getting raped, where she and her Black friends can enter the world on equal footing. One without guilt and shame.
If I never tell her that the world is wrong, she will believe that it’s right. She will believe that she is special. She will believe that she has earned everything she gets, neglecting to see that her white skin, her blonde hair, her blue eyes, and her trim shape (as well as her parent’s educational background, skin color, White Supremacist heritage and the horror of it in full,) she will think that it doesn’t exist because she won’t be able to identify it.
I was an activist before I was a mom. I fought my whole life to have my own voice. It wasn’t until I moved to Texas--out of my community that basically dealt with me and let me be because I was incorrigible--that I felt the full weight of the world come down on me. The way I think causes me to have physical pain when I feel the need to say something to rebut an untruth.
That’s dangerous. I know it’s dangerous, because what is True for you is not True for me. And that’s not my fault and it’s not your fault--it is the system that has told me that I’m special and that I have earned this house, this husband, this life. I didn’t. My White Privilege did, and hitching myself to a college educated white man did.
It’s also the Truth that lets me acknowledge that if I had known that I was mentally diverse, disabled, or whatever you want to call it at a much younger age, I would have believed more in myself and specifically in my brain and intelligence. I’ve watered myself down, made myself palatable, and enabled my husband and worse, myself, to get comfortable in this white suburban way of life.
I even fooled myself into thinking that I was somehow not participating in this society. The lull of capitalism, of getting a bigger better house, of getting completely out of debt. A light was at the end of the tunnel--we were almost there! Almost Rich! Like, objectively.
And then one of my friends asked me why I was so scared of getting uncomfortable, and the answer in my mind was, “I already am uncomfortable enough.” That was a lie. That was a lie the world had told to me that I bought into and fed. I’ve earned this comfort. I’ve paid my dues.
Those are lies.
I haven’t honored what God gave to me, the strengths he gave to me. I am supposed to help and be a bridge. I have to teach my daughter to not only be a wrecking ball like me--tearing down her life after she’s already made it--but to instead to intentionally build the life that she wants, and build the world that she wants along with it.
I want to teach her to get out of the way of the Black women in her life, to always seek out voices that are diametrically opposite of hers: the homeless, the physically disabled, the uneducated, the poor, and in all of those categories looking for people of color. I have to teach her how to have a diverse group of friends, because she has to work toward it. She’ll be grouped with only white kids.
So I have to teach her to do the things that will make her the most afraid, and to believe in the people that this world will tell her are untrustworthy (anyone seen as different).
When she aligns herself with the oppressed and learns how to weaponize her privilege for her friends, how to speak up when she sees injustice, no matter where she is , or who she is with, it will be abundantly clear because she won’t be alone. She’ll have your daughter by her side, if I do my job right.
Thank you for helping me, thank you for letting me fight against the system for you, thank you for helping me see that my voice is my gift and I should stop being ashamed of it.
I owe Black women, and it would be my pleasure to strive for discomfort and growth for the sake of our daughters, together.
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Caramel
(UGH SO HERE IT FINALLY IS! This is what I’ve been working on the past few days, and it’s an idea I’ve been entertaining for a while. This will be part of a multi-chapter fic, but I wanna know what you guys think! After all, I don’t know if anyone else before now has written a fanfic where the central character is the Fried Chicken Tramp who had one line in ‘Expiration Date’, but here you have it. You didn’t ask for it, but it’s here, and I hope you all like it.)
There are lots of things one could say about Carla Wilde. The first being that she didn’t like to be called Carla—if you called her Carla, she’d give you the dirtiest look and correct you.
“It’s Caramel,” she would insist, in the lowest and most menacing voice she could muster.
The reason for her nickname has been debated, but she says and maintains to this day that it was because of one specific incident when she was in third grade: a teacher had passed out candies to students as a reward, and little Carla had somehow wound up with a chewed, sticky caramel candy in her blonde hair, and it was so bad the teacher had to cut the mass of sweetness out with the craft scissors. After this, the other children took to calling her “Caramel Head”, which upset her very much at first, as it would any small girl at that age. The nickname eventually was shortened to “Caramel”, and do you know what the tragic thing is? As time passed, she began to answer to it.
She was flawed, and she knew it, too. She felt embarrassed about having a poor work ethic and not having a job, and equally embarrassed about being forced to live with her father, despite being well into her twenties at this point.
It was here, at age twenty-six, that Caramel Wilde had the loudest, most explosive argument with her father in their apartment, one that every neighbor heard but acted like they didn’t hear. Moments later, Caramel was shoved onto the sidewalk outside the door, suitcase clutched in her hand as her father shouted the following statement at her:
“You’re never gonna be shit, Carla! If you wanna be a fucking tramp, get out of my house and start being a tramp on the streets like all the other women!”
Caramel whirled around, her hand clenching with rage around the suitcase’s handle and she barked back, “It’s Caramel, you fucking pig!” before spitting in his face.
She was homeless, now, and she was alone. She had nowhere to go—she could go back to her father and beg his forgiveness, but she wasn’t that kind of woman. She never had been, and she had promised herself that she never would be. She would prove him wrong, she had to prove him wrong.
Caramel leaned against the side of a nearby building to consider her options, but she was too hungry to think. She had money, some bills stashed in her wallet, and she knew that would at least get her some fried chicken from the diner.
Now Caramel has been and always will be an enigma to many, since she is the embodiment of the age-old question, “How can a skinny girl eat like that and still stay skinny?” Caramel herself wasn’t sure how she could eat the fat-filled and sugary diet she did and still have a decent figure, but she never questioned it. She was beautiful, she attracted men, and she slept with many of them, yet a relationship with any of them was undesired.
But wouldn’t luck have it that night that one of these men she had slept with in the past happened to be at the same diner where she had stopped to comfort eat? Not just any man, but the young man who had only identified himself to Caramel as “The Scout” (she didn’t understand why but hadn’t asked him at the time).
He recognized her from across the diner, and without thinking he walked right up to her and slapped a hand on her shoulder in greeting.
“Hey!” Scout greeted loudly as if he were greeting an old friend. “Long time no see!”
Caramel almost choked on the chicken she was hunched over, and she looked up in bewilderment. “What? Huh?”
“You remember me, right?” he sat down right next to her at the counter, grinning at her. “You gotta, no one ever forgets me,”
It clicked in less than a minute, and Caramel gasped slightly. “Oh! You—yeah, I remember you,” she cleared her throat, wiping roughly at her mouth with a napkin. “What’s, uh, what’s up?”
Scout shrugged. “I dunno, I just wanted to see how you were doin’ since I last saw you. I mean, I ain’t really seen you since, but…”
“Did you wanna hook up again?” she asked, a little blunt, but that was her style.
Scout seemed as though he was caught off guard for a moment. “Uh—well, I dunno, if you want, I guess. I just wanted to catch up with ya, really,”
Caramel looked skeptically at him. He definitely wanted sex out of her, why else would he be talking her up? She wouldn’t mind sleeping with him again, but this would be her first time sleeping with the same man twice. Still, she sighed, shrugging. “Well, thanks. My life’s pretty shit right now, but I’m glad there’s some kinda friendly face here,”
Scout tilted his head at her, his face changing to a look of concern. “Aw, what happened? Hey, you want a drink? ‘Cause I can get you a drink—”
Caramel held up the glass of lemonade she was sipping at. “I got one, thanks,”
“I-I meant like…” Scout tried to explain himself. “An alcohol drink, or whatever. So you don’t feel shitty,”
It was tempting, but given her current circumstance, she knew better. “Nah, but thanks for the offer,”
There was a short pause between them before Scout cleared his throat. “Uh, okay. So…are you, like…busy with anything?”
Caramel was about to tell him off, to demand that he shut up and leave her alone, but a thought popped into her head when she saw the earnest look in his eyes and realized he really wanted to do something nice for her. Why? Probably because he wanted to have sex with her again (although, he really could just say that outright, she preferred men who were direct about it) but Caramel didn’t have anyone else around to help her. There was only him, this young man who hardly had a name to her.
“Actually,” she cleared her throat. “I wanna ask—do you know anyone who needs like…work? And-and also, do you know any cheap places I could stay at?”
Scout thought about it. “Hm…why?”
Caramel shrugged. “I’m in kinda a tough spot, I don’t have anywhere to go, I’m gonna run out of money soon, and…that’s basically it,” she sipped at her lemonade again, her eyes darting away.
She could feel him watching her face in silence, for an uncomfortably long time, until he leaned a little closer to her. “Well,” he began. “I don’t know anyone, but…if ya need a place to, you know, get back on your feet, you can crash at my place for a while,”
Caramel looked back up, surprised. “…really?”
“Sure!” Scout shrugged. “But, I gotta warn you: I work there too, my job gets pretty loud, but we got a spare room there and—”
“Good enough for me,” Caramel cut in. She didn’t really know what she was agreeing to, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, here.
“Really?” Scout’s face lit up. “Aw, that’s awesome! L-listen, you don’t gotta pay rent, I’ll sort everything out, but—”
Caramel took a bite of chicken, interrupting him again. “Listen, though,” she began carefully. “If you fuck me over, boy scout, I will rip your fucking face apart,”
Scout seemed a little taken aback by this remark, but he quickly cleared his throat and composed himself. “N-no, no, I promise I ain’t gonna do anything like that! But, I gotta warn you that I have some, ah…roommates, and they can be a little wack,”
Caramel sighed: she didn’t know where this would lead, but she was desperate. She set down the piece of chicken she was eating, looking back up at Scout. “I’m fine with that,” she assured him. “Just as long as they ain’t pigs,”
#sometimes i see female characters who don't have names or stories and i say 'i will change that'#im excited to write this but idk how often updates will be#life has been hectic#writing#my writing#tf2 fanfiction#tf2#tf2 scout#fried chicken girl#thats her name on the wiki#but in my heart shes caramel#caramel
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A perspective on the forewarning fascist iconography in GoT
Was it yesterday ? I reacted to a mind-provoking aesthetic analysis of GoT reblogged by @felixthemudnescat ... which basically no one reacted to (LOL) but... chatting with @scratchybeardsweetmouth and @ser-jorah-the-andal, I felt like revisiting it to add observations to my initial reaction. Even if it’s too heavy-meta for such a beautiful summer day. @felixthemudnescat pardon me for not using the reblog button cause I want to do this under the dot-dot-dot so as not to weigh down the usual degree of levity in our tumblr group ;-)
Also I only realized today that you actually reblogged without commenting and I assumed, maybe wrongly, that you adhered completely to what you reblogged. And that might not be the case, so I’ll alter my text accordingly...
So here we go... (my input comes at the end)
Anonymous asked:
Girl. Gurl. Who the fuck is Leni Riefenstahl? Y'all Sansa stans pulling the most elaborate nonsense out of your asses to justify shitty writing. Or you twist everything and make D&D sound as if they're the most brilliant minds the world has ever seen LOL
fedonciadale answered:
Hi there!
If you would have taken one moment to look up Leni Riefenstahl - and I assure you that it is not difficult to look her up - you would not have combined your question with a comment about the writing…. Look her up and learn a lesson about how tyrants manipulate.
The visuals of the show are alluding to famous/ notorious shots of Leni Riefenstahl. You would agree that the visuals are something that gives us hints? In addition to the dialogue?
Sansa stans have complained about the writing since season 5…. You all - I’m just assuming you are a Dany fan, correct me if I’m wrong - had no complaints about shitty writing in season 7?
Look I am not saying that the way D&D got to DarkDany this season was well executed, but the foreshadowing and the character development are there. And actually from all the things the show did Daenerys is one of the better from book to screen. The hiding of her path to ruthlessness by filming from her POV is well done in season 1 to 6, and the triumphant visuals are part of that.
Visuals are part of the foreshadowing. It did not come out of nowhere and it was always a major plot point - as has been argued by book readers for ages. That Dany blew up King’s Landing was always to be the culmination of her arc. And it was always meant to hit you in the gut. So, as you do nicely put it : get your head out of your ass as and realise that you have been duped. And ponder about why? Was it because Dany is beautiful? Was it because she had the occasional bouts of benevolence? Was it because you thought she was entitled to an ugly chair because she suffered? Was it because she was set up against people coded as villains, so that you don’t care about how she defeated them? Was it because she is a woman and woman can’t be evil?
Take your pick and learn something about yourself and your own bias, how we can be duped by a tyrant! If you do that you are doing exactly what GRRM intended his readers to do by writing Dany like he did.
une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir
(in fiction, all these logos meant to reference the nazi flag)
fedonciadale
Reblogging for @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir ’s excellent additions. I could not have done that because that film is actually forbidden in Germany.
justacynicalromantic
Ohhhohohoho the last one - I am😏 at people who half a year ago threw stones at me when I argued that Dany has always had parallels with Hitler.
felixthemudnescat
Found this shared on Quora, had to re-blog!
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Hi @felixthemudnescat long time no see !
I had not seen the original posting of this. My first instinctual reaction to this iconographic/aesthetics research is to object to the simple equation of Daenerys with Hitler. No fiction character will ever match the scope of evil (for lack of a better word) this man and his ideology represented. By ricochet and association, it makes every fan who was moved by Daenerys a potential Nazi sympathizer and that makes no sense. It’s also unnecessarily hurtful and insulting both to these fans and the real World (those who suffered and still suffer from The Holocaust). This said, the iconographic evidence you provided through your reblog has weight and is exactly what I referred to in some of my posts as the visual clues given in the show as to Dany’s *possible* arc, its *possible* finality (more on the *possible* further down); clues which scream at you if you have the cultural baggage to recognize them, and when you binge-watch the series 3 times in one month instead of watching it an ep at the time over 8-9 years. The middle seasons are especially ripe with these visual signs because they’re tagged unto somewhat repetitious narrative (Dany freeing/conquering one city at a time with little intimate character dev scenes). And @fedonciadale is right in wanting fans to look more closely into themselves; we shouldn’t close ours eyes on the shady ideological and moral symbols casting shadows on Daenerys throughout the seasons. But they were shadows. I don’t think they were meant to be the beginning and end to all things explaining the character.
@felixthemudnescat or @fedonciadale don’t you think D&D were building something much more subtle than the end result they opted for and which gives weight to your comparative iconographic essay ? For many seasons, the fascist references or foreboding reminders of Targaryen madness never outweighed the characterizations of Daenerys as a young woman who, regardless (or because ?) of her thwarted and abusive upbringing was trying to conjugate her own suffering and road to affirmation with the conquerer’s path given her. She might not have questioned the necessity/validity for her to conquer her way back to Westeros, as the only way she could get home, but she didn’t do it through simple rampage either. She did care to free the people she needed to build her armies. She did have a heart. This she did spontaneously; it came from a deep source within her, not a calculated one. Even if, of course, it turned out to be an astute strategy. And that sets her apart from the Nazis and its leader. At their best, D&D conjugated the two: giving us a rounded character build-up and evolution with ominous symbolic shadows lurking about her. @scratchybeardsweetmouth also made me realize, I who have not read the novels, that this humane aspect of Daenerys is brought even more to the foreground in the books. I quote @scratchybeardsweetmouth: “In the books (...) she repeatedly communicates firsthand with her freed people. She hears their opinions, is not afraid to mingle with them, always finds a way to protect them, even went out of her way to help heal some when a disease was about...” Without getting as much detailed info on her compassionate stance and actions in the show, it’s certainly the impression she indeed left us with, and it’s what her most faithful and steadfast companion, ser Jorah, sees in her and repeatedly says out loud, lest we forget it ;-) (“You have a gentle heart,” etc.)
So I thought it was IMMENSELY daring of D&D (or the novelist I’ve not read yet) to give us that scene where Daenerys is called Mhysa/Mother by the slaves she freed because the scene was inhabited with so many conflictual signs: I was all at once moved and sooooo worried as to where this could lead. Moved because, bottom line, these slaves are freed, actually freed, it’s the start of something. Dany has always given those she freed a choice to leave if they so wished… Moved because it’s a woman effecting the freeing, not a man… Moved because it’s Dany, the girl who suffered, who was a slave of sorts, that does the freeing, not her mentors…. Moved to see a culture refer to their freer as “Mother” (what a great homage to mothers, to women in general) / buuuuut also worried to see a culture refer to their freer as “Mother” because it seems to infantilize them on screen.
Here we could also open up a whole debate about the malaise one can feel in seeing an Aristocratic White Woman free Third World People but I urge you to go read @khaleesirin‘s meta writings on the subject. She makes a great case for us NOT to see Daenerys in this fashion. Regardless of her looks and lineage, the novels (and GoT, I insist in my chats with @khaleesirin ;-) shows her to be like the people she frees: an Other. She like then is homeless, uprooted, migrant, disenfranchised. If we fail to see it in Essos, the show really drives this home once Daenerys sets foot in Westeros where NO ONE welcomes, understands or appreciates her. (Which suddenly complexifies our rapport to Sansa and the Northerners we grew to love and respect since they seem not to be above xenophobia, and racism.)
But to get back to the Mhysa scene. Once the worrying starts, I can’t seem to stop it, even as I am moved to tears. Literally. Because of the above-mentioned qualities of it, and also possibly because of the Christ-like iconography it uses to celebrate Dany (”Let the little children come unto me” - if I may paraphrase the New Testament -- and thanks to @ser-jorah-the-andal for the reminder). And I’m always partial to feminizations of Christ; I love it, I think it’s sublimely subversive :-) But I’m also kicking myself for liking this because I fundamentally don’t want a Messiah saving the Third World, I want the Third World to save itself... and I’m worried. I’m really worried as I watch Daenerys triumph in this scene because we know she’s lacking important elements in her “psycho-affective and socio-political tool kit” (regardless of the quality and loving care of advisers now on hand, *cough* Jorah -- in the books @scratchybeardsweetmouth tells me she needs no advisor to keep her moral compass straight) and, so, will this get to her head ? Will she get drunk on her Messiah complex (and of course she does at the end of season 8) ? And what will happen if those she freed disappoint her (again flashforward to the end of season 8) ? And how will she rule them exactly (ditto) ? And, finally, yes, worried because, the fascist iconography is there and I’m going: omg where are they going with this ?
Here I want to open another parenthesis, also brought on by something @ser-jorah-the-andal wrote me: “if this is what they meant in the first place, they sure as hell didn’t bother to tell anyone in the cast so they could act accordingly, tho a case could be made that Dany never saw herself as the villain so that’s why they didn’t tell Emilia.” Indeed I’m sure the cast, or at the very least Emilia Clarke, were never told about the endgame, or never cued to the quoting of fascist iconography in some of Daenerys’ triumphant scenes. Clarke’s shocked reaction upon reading the last screenplays is a testament to her profound surprise... and this raises ethical questions, doesn’t it ? I mean in the ethics of creative partnership. It’s a recent debate possibly because there are so many tales of directors manipulating actors into giving them the performance needed to embody and communicate the discourse they want to leave us with. But the professional in me cringes here a bit. You’d hope they would trust actors enough to let them into what it is exactly they’re supposed to be creating...
This said, up to the moment before “the bells” scene in season 8, I had nonetheless seen D+D and EC give us a woman struggling morally with her choices. That’s important to state. And to get back to the above demonstration of fascist parallels, well, please, let’s point out that the Nazis and their leader never did struggle morally with what they were doing (or if they did, History bears no markers -- I’m talking about the Nazis here, not the German people as a whole). And I was prepared to see Daenerys fail because she never healed, she never achieved psycho-affective soundness (shall we get into the chapter of her misconstruing what love is ? Her relationship arc with Jorah speaks volumes) but I was expecting her to feel remorse if she did succumb to true fascism; remorse to the point of self-execution if you will, because that’s the kind of moral person D+D had been building for 7 years. But after D&D sent her over the edge, they erased all the previous nuances they had built into her, and I believe, tried to explained it away with a broken heart, megalomania and madness….
So if their plan was truly to make us see her as a fascist leader of the scope we’re talking about here, the way the above visual essay seems to suggest, they would have fleshed out her character’s arc accordingly throughout the seasons, and they didn’t. There were clues as to the possibilities -- yes, Dany stepping out for her final speech is absolutely shot like Triumph of the Will by Riefenstahl… but it’s also infused with other iconographic references. That image of her merging with Drogon’s wings belongs to the fantastic, and makes her into a formidable and powerful Id, which can be construed as a positive subversive marker. And some of us do celebrate WrathfulDany for this reason....
The reality of GoT is that there were no actual scenes developing her fascist ideology. So let’s not confuse allusions to fascism with actual fascism. With all D+D’s failings towards the end, Daenerys remained a more nuanced and contradictory character than that. She is NOT Hitler, please......
The iconographic research you provided in your reblog @felixthemudnescat show us one important aspect of Dany’s subtextual arc but not the full picture. It’s missing the heart and the suffering behind the soul who fell from grace.
I hope you don’t construe this long winding reaction as a slam. I know you come from a very specific place in regards to Daenerys. I just thought the excellent research you provided deserved to be reblogged, but with an added perspective ;-)
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Survey #194
“i’m numb to the pleasure but still feel the pain.”
Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? Yeah.
What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? I believe I first had those Flintstones ones, then later Mom got the gummy type.
Have you ever gone to court? Only to explain to a judge why I thought my scheduled month-long stay in the psych hospital was unnecessarily long for my state. I was convinced all I needed to do was talk to Jason and boom, my problems would be gone. Safe to say, I was delusional. Glad I won that battle though considering I loathe that hospital for their extreme lack of therapy and activities to keep us occupied and out of our own heads. I was committed there I think five times and no stay did jack-shit.
Are you friends with your neighbors? No.
How long has it been since you’ve seen The Lion King? Years. But bitch when that live action remake comes out I'mma be the very first hoe at that theater.
Have you ever had a crush on your siblings friend? No.
What's the longest amount of time you’ve been on an airplane without changing flights? However long the flight to Michigan was.
What’s the best wedding you’ve been to? My former dance instructor's.
What time did you wake up this morning? Like, 7.
What are you doing this weekend? There's no difference in weekends and weekdays for me. I'm sure I'm doing nothing.
What’s your favorite Disney movie? TLK.
Do you wear colored contacts? No, but honestly I'd love more sapphire blue ones if they're a prescription and not just cosmetic.
Who was the last person you went to the movies with? I think Mom? Or did I go with Dad later?
When’s the last time you spent time with your cousins? I haven't seen Robby since '15, but Audrey passed through with my uncle sometime last year. My other cousins, hell if I know.
Why did you fall for the last person romantically? Good Lord, that's an essay. Just more than anything, I think it was the fact that she cares so deeply about animals and people alike and is passionate about what's right and wrong.
Can you speak in a different language conversationally? If so, which language? I could maybe manage a very simple German convo?
Do you ever fear falling asleep? No, but I do rather frequently don't look forward to it, or at least the process of falling asleep. I don't go quickly.
What’s the last thing you had to eat? A bagel.
Would you rather eat all day or exercise all day? I don't believe you physically could eat all day? And exercising, I'm assuming you'd eventually pass out? But let's be hypothetical. I'd have to choose exercise, I care way too much about not gaining weight.
Does one eye tend to be weaker than the other? Yes, my right is considerably worse.
What do you think of guys who ask girls out over via text message or internet? It's definitely not my preferred method, but do it if you don't have the courage to in person/just can't for whatever reason.
Have you ever had a churro? I believe I have? If I'm remembering the correct treat, it was unbelievably too sweet and I didn't like the crunch.
What’s one thing you like about your town? The town itself is real old-fashioned and small.
Did you believe that alcohol is more dangerous then weed? I know it is.
Do you drink more apple or orange juice? Orange.
Are you a fan of the Grand Theft Auto series? Never played, but I highly doubt I'd enjoy it.
Do you like the beach? If it wasn't for the wind, blistering heat, and sand. So basically, I don't. I only like being in the ocean.
Do you or did you have a curfew at one point? No. Well, correction, if it was a school night before high school and I was out with a friend, I'm sure Mom established something, but idr.
Do you peel the wrappers off of plastic bottles? No.
What do you think is the youngest age someone should lose their virginity? No younger than 16. But at any age, be. Smart.
Have you ever played Super Smash Brothers? I think at friends' as a kid?
What do you like on your sundaes? Like, just chocolate syrup lmao.
Have you done anything productive today? Well, I exercised some.
Do you believe in abstaining from sex until marriage? What I care about is waiting for a person you feel truly in love with. I actually feel like abstaining could be a bad idea, as I'd assume for some people, the desire to have sex would play a factor in them wanting to get married, so marriage could potentially be rushed for the sake of that when you're not adequately prepared in other areas.
What is your sexual orientation? Bi.
Do you put your name on your food coverings? If I was using a fridge at a job or whatever, yeah, but I'm not in that type of situation.
What is something you have acquired with age? Open-mindedness.
Would you ever go out in public sporting pajamas? Depends on where I'm going.
Have you ever ridden in a race car? No.
Do you enjoy history? No.
Have you ever changed religions? Twice.
Is there anyone to whom you are afraid to stand up to? Mom. And pretty much everyone else.
Do you like making lists? Sometimes.
Do you play sports with your siblings? Never di- oh wait, Mom signed all three of us up for cheerleading as little kids. Hated it.
Are there stairs in your house? No.
Do you like onions on your burger? A small amount of minced pieces is fine.
Could you ever give yourself a shot? Yeah.
What is your favorite room to clean? I get the most satisfaction out of cleaning my own.
Do you enjoy cleaning? Not the process of it, just the feeling afterwards.
What do you consider your ideal weight? My /ideal/ would be around 120 again, but I'd be happy enough between 130-140.
How many pounds do you need to lose (or gain) to be your ideal weight? LET US NOT
What is your favorite thing about Valentine’s Day? Just it being a celebration of love, which to me, goes beyond just romantic. I think people should spend a little extra effort in letting one another know they really love each other. Now I believe every day you should treat people with love, but seriously focus on it and be thankful for those you have.
If you wear one, what color is your wristwatch? N/A
Have you ever made a pair of earrings? No.
Who did you inherit your hair color from? I actually think Dad? Going through family pictures after Grampa died, I found out he was actually born dirty-blonde (I've only known him with black), like I was. Pretty sure Mom's was always brown.
Have you ever wished that you were born in a different era? Woulda loved being born in the mid-early '80s.
Do you prefer soft rock or hard rock? ....... I read "rock" as in like, minerals. And I was. Very confused. High on the list of my dumbest readings. Anyway, definitely hard.
What was the best time of your life? As a kid.
Do you prefer sunny or cloudy weather? Partly cloudy.
How do you like your potatoes? For most of my life I only liked them as fries or as potato skins w/ cheese and bacon bits, but I'm gradually branching out. I like baked potatoes split with cheese and bacon inside too, and Sara's mom exposed me to the very first time I enjoyed mashed potatoes, yeet. So those have to be made a very specific, non-clumpy way. I also like hash browns, but not the shredded kind. Oh yeah, I live for the fiesta potatoes at Taco Bell too like gd good shit.
Who’s your best friend? My babygirl. <3 If you don't count her, it'd be my mom, but if she's excluded too being family, I don't really have a best friend. Maybe Girt, idk.
What’s a TV show you never miss? I don't watch any shows regularly. The one and only situation where I'd watch every episode ASAP is if Meerkat Manor came back.
Have you ever lied about your gender? No.
What are you planning on doing on your next birthday? Go out to eat with family, and though unlikely, getting a tattoo would be awwwesome.
Do you know anyone else with your last name other than family? I don't think so?
Is your favorite band still together? I actually just looked it up because I really wanted to know, and his band's still going, apparently! I thought this coming tour ("No More Tours 2") was the end, but apparently it's just the finale of his world tours.
Where do you see most of your concerts? I've only been to one, which was in Raleigh. That's the most likely place we'd go to, though.
Have you ever had escargot? Never in my life will I try it.
Do you use Google every day? No.
What was the last new food you tried that you thought was delicious? Oh my god in Heaven. So, for Christmas, my sis made these hot chocolate cream balls things she found on Pinterest, and literally, maybe the best thing I'd ever had. I just barely had enough discipline to not eat more than one lol.
If you could invent a new holiday, what month would you put it in? Hm. Idk.
Have you ever had a bedroom with a specific theme? No, I don't think so.
If you had to design a room with a theme, what theme would you choose? Gothic, maybe with lil bits of pastel goth for some more personality.
What was the best thing that ever happened to you? Realizing I can't just give my entire life to a person, losing any control over it myself. You have to allow yourself to be free; do not chain yourself to a single person.
Have you ever given money to a homeless person? No. One, I don't have a source of income, and two, I'm perfectly aware what probably 99% do with it, especially because of my mom, who's pretty much made friends with the homeless on the side of the road, has learned each and every one use drugs or alcohol, so instead she buys them food frequently. That's something I would want to do, but I'm so paranoid of strangers, especially desperate ones, harming me for whatever reason that I probably never will.
Do you like your hair better long or short? SHORT. OH MY GOOOOOD CUTTING MY HAIR SHORT WAS ONE OF MY BEST DECISIONS.
Have you ever designed your own Facebook timeline cover? Yeah.
What is one site that closed down that you wish would come back? Hmmmm. I don't really know. Well, the Animal Planet site still exists, but I wish there was still a dedicated MM section, y'know, with the forums and games and such. Really think it'd be nice if they kept little sections for all of their classic, better-known shows for old fans. Hell, I'm pretty sure MM was their most successful, why not keep remnants of it up there?
Do you ever watch TV shows on YouTube? Rarely, if I ever watch a show.
Foo Fighters vs. Red Hot Chili Peppers: Not a real fan of either, but I'd have to choose the former as I enjoy at least two of their songs.
Have your parents ever complained about your hair? My mom was reeeaaally shocked and distressed when she arrived at the parlor when I got the "big" haircut and saw how much was gone (eight inches), but only because she was scared I'd hate it. Thankfully she really liked it when it was all said and done.
Are you a fan of the Saw movies? Never really watched 'em.
How did you decide on your Tumblr name? I'm a sucker for alliteration, and it's a survey blog.
Do your friends have the complete opposite music taste as you? My closer friends, not really, actually.
Do you ever forget how old your siblings are? I don't know any of my half-siblings' ages, and I forget how old Ashley is sometimes. I forget frequently if she's two or three years older than me.
Do you tend to walk places more than drive? Ha, you can't walk to a destination here in the country. I only ever ride/rarely drive anywhere.
Do you have any photos of you kissing someone? Yes.
Do you ever hang out with your ex? Rarely with Girt.
Would you like the ability to read minds? No, especially if you can't choose when it's "on" or "off." Even if you only choose when you do it, idk. Just... doesn't seem like a safe idea.
Do you see the same people everyday? Lol that's usually just my mom, and yes.
Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah.
Are you mad at anyone right now? No.
It’s 4 in the morning, your phone rings, what do you do? Almost a guarantee I won't hear, considering it's on vibrate. Now if I did for whatever reason, ignore it unless it's a contact on my phone.
Have you ever fallen backwards on a chair? I believe so, playing as a kid.
Last time you laughed so hard you cried? I'm not sure, but considering I do that easily...
Who last talked about kissing you? Sara.
Who was the last thing/person you took a picture with? My kiiiitty.
Did you speak to your father today? No.
Would you ever get gauged ears? Definitely no.
What aren’t you looking forward to? I really don't mean to sound all emo and whatnot, but I genuinely don't look forward to like every afternoon/early evening, as that's around when I hit my extreme boredom decline, which goes so low I feel death could maybe be more exciting. I am in no way suicidal, I just want this era of isolation, lack of purpose, and no progress towards a great future to end. My life's been at a stand-still for pretty much a year.
Would you rather get your tongue or lip pierced? I already have both done. I find my snake eyes way cuter, but when I consider my outward appearance and what people generally see, I'd rather have my labret.
What is your favorite personality trait? Kindness.
What is the most romantic thing a significant other could do? Idk, but something with deep personal meaning for sure.
When you are dating someone, what is the most important thing to you? There has to be a mutual, serious care for our relationship; my partner has to understand I'm not in for a fling. We both have to have the goal of forming and maintaining a healthy, long-lasting, meaningful relationship. If I feel being together is a game to you or just for a couple months of a bit of fun, bye.
Would you be able to tell someone you love them, even if you didn’t feel it? No. Well, I do with my mom if she's pissed me off and I *feel* like I don't, but I know I do.
If you were engaged, would you want a wedding as soon as possible? Not necessarily. I believe engagement is a stage where you're certain you want to get married in the not-so-distant future, but you have other important things to take care of first, like for example, buying a home and stuff like that.
When in a relationship do you have to have contact with your partner on a daily basis? I wouldn't freak the hell out if you couldn't talk to me for a day, but I'd definitely want at least a little conversation, especially if we're serious.
Do you believe in moving in together before engagement or marriage? Yes. You should know how you're going to handle being with your s/o every single day.
Did you ever give a hickey to the last person you kissed or you guys didn’t go that far? Not yet.
Is there anyone you want to come see you? Yeah.
What was the last thing you saw that scared you? A video of this guy with his giant pet centipede like an idiot (super venomous) crawling all over him. Centipedes creep me the hell out, although at the same time I find them kinda cool.
Is there something that’s happened today that you don’t want to ever go through again? No.
Is the last person you kissed attractive? Yeah.
Do you feel bored with your life? I think I've covered this enough.
Who’s someone you miss that you haven’t talked to in years? Megan, more than anyone.
Do you have severe withdrawals from medications? I don't think any were ever severe, but I was weaned off of them all I believed. Just honestly I've been on so many since 6th grade that I can't recall each one's ending. I only recall having shadow hallucinations when I was coming off one.
What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? Let's not talk about the subject I'm more bitter about than anything else in the entire world. Summary: Don't touch Abilify even if your fucking life depended on it.
Do you have a doctor you can trust? My psychiatrist and therapist, very much so. I've only seen my new general doctor twice, so I can't make a fair judgment of her. Mom has a friend who sees her though, and she only has positive things to say about her.
Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No.
What do you miss about high school? A social life. Art class.
What do you miss the most about college? Literally the one and only part I enjoyed at my first college was lunchtime, because Jason and I could spend time together, sometimes with his friends. Second college, nothing. It was online.
Have you ever been the victim of a crime? I don't believe so?
Is your life worse than you could have ever have imagined it to be? Or is it better, or just what you expected? Ohhhh man... As a kid, I was so sure I'd be amazing. Still had a bit of hope in middle school. High school and beyond, it's, so far, worse than I'd planned.
What is the most beautiful landscape you have ever seen? Mountains. Driving through them is unreal.
What is one place you have always wanted to visit? Idk about "always." But for the longest amount of time, it's been without a doubt South Africa.
Who were your favorite celebrities as a child? Steve Irwin was and still is one of my absolute heroes. I loved Jeff Corwin, Jesse McCartney, Raven Symone, and the Sprouse twins, too.
Do you prefer slow songs or fast songs? I'd say generally, faster.
What color is your trash can? White.
Who was your favorite family pet when you were growing up? We didn't really have a "family" pet, just ones one of us individually were particularly close to. I'd say the closest that qualifies would be Chance, our first cat. She was special.
List five of your favorite YouTubers. You Already Know, GameGrumps, Shane Dawson, Daniel Howell, and Jeffree Star, but. I have so many jsfaqoweuoapsf. I wanna squeeze Rhett and Link in there, but while I still love them as people and creators, I've been losing interest in GMM over the months.
What’s your favorite type of bird? Barn owls. I also love ravens though for their intelligence and personalities.
What pet names do you use with your significant other? A lot, but I'd say either "sweetheart/sweetie" or "dear" are most common from me. I think.
How would you describe your sense of humor? Sarcastic, I guess.
Have you ever been a member in a band? No. Well, except school band.
Have you ever watched yourself on video? Yeeaah, senior project was fun. But I know how I usually am well enough to say I honestly don't feel I did badly.
Have you ever missed a flight? Yup. Never go to the O'Hare airport, jfc.
Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? Yes, and I hope to see the one this Sunday!
Are you still in touch with your best friend from high school? No.
Any animals whose behaviors you find particularly interesting? AHHHHHHH SO MANY!!!!! Social species' above all.
Do you like animals better than most humans? Yes.
What simple things in life bring you the most joy? Long car rides when I can play my iPod through the speakers and just go to another world. Sara singing, hearing my mom laugh. Seeing old couples holding hands in public kills me.
How did you meet your significant other (if you have one)? YouTube.
How did you meet your best friend? She's the same person as above.
Are you friends with anybody you didn't like at first? Also see Sara lmao.
Are there any musicians you didn't like at first, but grew on you? The first/most recent to come to mind is In This Moment.
Is there anything you used to love, but now dislike? Peas as a kid. I'm kinda on the fence of liking or disliking PewDiePie as he is now (although I haven't watched too much of his newer content).
Do you have any favorite books you'd like to have signed by the author? It'd be pretty cool for Ozzy to sign my copy of his autobiography, sure.
Do you enjoy any of those old black and white horror films? Any one I've ever seen has been horrid, so I haven't seen many.
What is your favorite yogurt topping? I loved those ones that had M&Ms in them.
Where do you shop the most: Kmart, Target, Walmart, Fred Meyer, or other? Walmart or Harris Teeter.
Have you ever done a craft project you saw on Pinterest? No.
What beverages do you drink that contain caffeine? Soda.
What has been the best experience you've had in a church? Uhhh. Oh, Jason's brother's wedding.
Do you prefer that your nachos be spicy or not spicy? Obviously spicy.
Have you ever had a kiss that felt magical? Mine and Jason's first was cute, but I don't recall if I thought it was "magical" because all I was focusing on was just how shy I was. First kiss with Sara was definitely more than special.
Who is your best online friend? Sara once again.
Who knows more about you: online friends or offline? Online, easily.
Do you think that love makes people irrational? It can.
What book, movie, or TV show did you find to be total garbage? Oh, I'm positive there's something, but nothing comes to mind.
Is there a topic that is a sore-spot for you? Mental health and how it may affect your loved ones.
Have you ever lost a friend over a guy/girl? Pretty much.
Have you ever lost a friend because of a lifestyle change? Yup.
Do you like kissing? The right person.
What location holds the most memories for you? My childhood home.
Hypothetically let’s just say you’re a supervillain. What’s your agenda? What are you trying to destroy and why? I would never want to be, but I suppose the most suitable for me would be punishing the person to break a promise somehow. Why, because I know just how agonizing broken promises can be.
What’s your go-to topic when making small talk with others? How their day's been.
When you get to be in charge of the tunes on a road trip or party - do you play what you want to hear or tailor the playlist to what you think the other people in the car/room want to hear? I do a mix of both. Thankfully, Mom and I like most of the same music, but I do learn what songs she doesn't like and avoid playing them unless I really wanna hear it.
You have any bad habits you shamelessly don’t care to or plan to quit? Shamelessly, idk about that.
There’s an app for everything. What apps consume the most of your time and energy? Facebook.
The most overrated thing ever - what is it? I literally judge you if you have a bigass, obnoxiously loud truck. Compensating for something?
The most underrated? Ummmm. Talking about pointless shit and doing nothing while enjoying your favorite person's presence is surely one.
What’s something you find unconventionally romantic? Teaching your s/o how to play a game together and you both are enjoying it asjfaoswuw. One of my most cherished memories with Jason was that with Little Big Planet. Just in general I find it super cute to share what you love with each other.
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Best Friend (Tom Holland Fanfic)
Author: @ineedsomemoremetime
Paring: Tom Holland x Female! whom I names Gemma.
Notes: This fanfic I wrote for both @gottaletgopete (best friend) and @notimeforthemessenger (Quote, in bold) writing challenge. I am not the best writer and editing job will not be the greatest but I finally got it finished and I’m kinda proud of it.
Words: 5595
“Did you know that you swallow 7 spiders a night when your sleeping?” Jacob explains while he is wiping the counter top.
“I heard it's 7 spiders in your lifetime” Derek replies as he goes over to lock the store doors so we can count the register.
“I heard that you both are just idiots and neither one of you is correct.” Molly complains as she finishes putting away the books that were left out.
“What do you think Gemma?” Jacob asks me as I was finishing filling out some paperwork for tomorrow.
“I heard both versions of that rumor so I don’t think I'm a great choice to answer this question.” I reply.
“Why are you asking her for her opinion. She probably swallows like 100 spiders a night, her boyfriend is Spider-man.” Molly says while grabbing her drawer out and starting to count it.
“Guys he’s not my boyfriend he’s just my best friend and roommate.” I explain.
“Were not idiots Gem, you love him. Why don’t you just tell already?” Jacob ask and then sits on the clean counter top to wait for my reply. I’ve known Tom who plays Spider-man since I was 18 and decided to live out my dream and move to London. We met my first week here, right after I got this job actually.
“Oh my god, you’ll never believe how my day went today.” I say to my best friend Genny. I’ve been in London for 4 days and I already killed my pet fish 7 hours after I got him but I also got kicked out of my apt because it didn’t allow fish. So now I’m homeless. But I guess on the bright side I got a job. Except I’m not sure how I’m going to get ready everyday since I have nowhere to live. I was about to head into the local Starbucks to maybe get some caffeine before I look for some apartments when these two guys walk out and accidentally spill their coffee on me
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry love. Here um let me go get some napkins. Wait, Haz go grab those napkins off the table.” He basically screams after he spilled his coffee all over my new white blouse I wore to my job interview.
“It’s okay, really. This shirt already got what I needed today. You guys are fine.” I tell him after the one hands me napkins, who I believe was called Haz
.“Here, let me at least buy you a coffee or tea or water. Even though water is free. I don’t know. Um, what do you drink. It’s on me I swear.” The one who spilled it on me said really quickly, kinda like he was nervous
.“Don’t worry about it. Actually I’ll buy you a coffee, since you spilt this one. It’s on me, don’t worry.” I reply. The Haz guy just starts laughing, which means he got my joke.
.“Dude, we need to give this girl a medal. You spill coffee on her and yet she still makes jokes, and doesn’t try to kill you for ruining her shirt.” Haz said. A medal, hmm that would be nice. Does this medal come with a house, cause I’m in need of one of those
.“I can get you one of those if you want or anything. A new top, um a new purse. Whatever name your price. Please don’t me mad at me, it was an accident I swear on my life.” He quickly rambles. Is this guy for-real, I glance over at the Haz guy and he just kinda laughs.
“Tom. Tom. TOM. Snap out of it. She’s not mad.” He yells and the smacks him in the face. The Tom guy looks stunned for a second then he starts laughing.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I got like that. Funny joke, but I’m still buying you a drink. Actually also Haz and I were about to head over to Nandos in a little bit after doing a little bit more shopping. Do you want to join us?”
“I would actually love that.” I reply. Then we headed into Starbucks to finally get Tom’s and my coffee.
“Yes, I’m going to go home tonight and be like, ‘Hey Tom guess what I’m in love with you and I have since we were like 18. Just thought you ought to know.’”I reply back to them. If only it were that easy. God, just imagine I tell him that I love him, he tells me he loves me back, and then we live happily ever after. That would be the life. Just to be able to kiss him, to hold his hand, to call him mine, to share our lives together.What would I give to live that life. But that’s never going to happen, because I live in a world where life doesn’t really work out in my favor.
“Well, you honestly could just say that.” Derek's said while twirling his fidget spinner.
“Yes, Derek. I could just tell him that and everything would be alright. Guys, I don’t wanna ruin my friendship with him. I get to spend a lot of my time talking, laughing, enjoying life with Tom. I don’t wanna ruin that. I also don’t want him to kick me out.” I explain.
“Wait, he can’t just kick you out if you’re paying rent, can he?” Molly asks.“I’m not paying rent. He won’t let me. He says he is being a gentlemen, but I don’t know.” I explain.
“WHAT!?” Derek and Jacob ask at the same time both clearly shocked. While Molly stood there with her mouth wide open.
“Dude, Can I live with you guys?” Jacob asks
.“Actually Gem, can I move instead. Cause I’ll tell Tom I love him like I swear. To live in that house for free. Damn.” Molly explains, jealousy clear as day on her face.
“He thinks it would be stupid for me to pay, I watch Tessa when he goes to film movies. I clean, I sometimes cook. He doesn’t see why I should pay. I still try to every month don’t get me wrong.”
“How did you even move in with him? Like you just have always been living there.” Derek asks confusion covering his face. I mean I have lived with him or what feels like forever. Ever since the first day we actually met.
“So you’re an actor. Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you. Sorry.” I tell Tom, who looks so shocked in a joking way of course. We went to a few different stores around Starbucks after we got our coffee and just chatted away. Tom ended up buying me a new shirt because apparently, I’m not allowed to pay for anything. Don’t get me wrong, I loved being spoiled and saving money, but I mean come on dude let me pay for something. After like an hour of shopping we ended up finally at Nando’s to eat.
“What! How do you not know who I am. I am a famous actor, how dare you!” Tom says while trying to keep a straight face, keyword trying.
“Oh, Tom I’m so sorry. Was I supposed to say,’Oh My God is that Tom Holland. Oh My God, he split coffee on me, swoon. Oh My God, can I have an autograph or better yet a picture, or better yet can I have your babies?’ There is that better?” I ask while laughing.
“Well maybe not that, Even though that probably would of been crazy to see. Maybe you should of been like, ‘ Tom Holland split coffee on me, oh my god, I have to sell this shirt of ebay so I can make tons of pounds. Damn.’” He tries while putting on his best american accent, which isn’t bad but he’s probably never gonna be able to play an american character.
“Or she could of went. ‘Tom Holland, boring. I’m here for you Harrison.’ That would of been way better.” Harrison who is the Haz guy by the way said.
“Shut the hell up mate. I’m not boring.I’m cool.” Tom fights back.
“Oh yeah sure.But I’m not the one standing there saying ‘oh I’m so sorry, I’ll buy you anything blah blah blah.’ Like dude you split coffee on her, you didn’t murder her grandpa.” Well, Harrison has a point there.
“ Well at least I’m a gentlemen.” Tom argues with a smile on his face. At least I know this isn’t a mean fight just a little bickering back and forth, something I do with my friend Genny.
“Never said you weren’t. You’re just an annoying one.” Okay, I feel like I’m in the middle of this and I’m not gonna lie, I kinda like it.
“I’m not annoying. Gemma, am I annoying?” Tom asks me.
“She’s not gonna side with you. Gemma, Tom’s annoying right?” Harrison asks. Damn, I gotta pick between these two. Their acting like 5 year olds, but it’s kinda adorable.
“You both are annoying. You dorks.” I laugh. I’m really glad Tom split his coffee on me because my day has been looking better, I mean I’m still homeless for the time being, but I’ve had fun today
.“Well, that is true.” Harrison answers back and Tom just nods, agreeing with him.
“So, Gemma, where at in London are you staying?” Tom asks after he takes a sip of his water.
“It’s a long story actually.” I tell them not really wanting to tell them I got kicked out.
“We got time, right Haz.” Haz nods. “Come on, tell us.” Tom says, so I just reply ‘fine’ and then they sit back in their chairs, like they are trying to get more comfortable.
“Well, So I have this apartment over on 14th street. All furnished and everything. It’s a really nice apartment. Well, when I moved in they never said I couldn’t have pets but I really didn’t want to try anything to serious right off the bat, so I got me a fish last night. I named him Brock., and he was a cute little fish, if fish can be cute. I’m not really sure. Well, I get home and I fill the tank up with water and all the right stuff. Then I got to bed, but when I woke up this morning, Brock was dead. I guess the water has to be a certain temperature, which is something I never knew because I wasn’t allowed any type of pets as a child not even a pet rock. Well, after I flushed Brock, there was a knock on my door. It was my landlord, he told me I had one hour to get all my stuff packed or else he was calling the cops I guess in that apartment your not allowed to have fish. So I got kicked out. So tonight I’m probably going to be staying at a hotel. Until I can find a new apartment.” I explain.
“So you came to London all by yourself? Isn’t that not safe?’ Harrison asks.
“My best friend Genny wanted to come, but her boyfriend um, decided they should actually move in together. So they moved and got a house. My um parents, didn’t want me to even come here. They thought it was a dumb idea. So I can’t let them know,or else they will make sure I’m on the next flight home.” My friend Genny’s boyfriend kinda never liked me, because I always told her that guys will come and go, this is our life, we need to enjoy it while we can. But then again I never was a fan of him either, so we're even.
“Well, Why don’t you come stay with us for a little while. To save some money.” Tom suggests
.“WHAT!?” Harrison and I say at the same time.
“No offense Gemma, you’re nice and all but we just met you, you can’t just invite strangers into our house.” Harrison says to me.
“Come on, she seems really trustworthy and sweet. Plus I would love to get to know her better. So what’s the best way to get to know her, have her stay with us for awhile. Honestly you seem like an amazing person. Plus I also still feel bad for spilling my coffee on you, and what way to repay you by letting you have a place to stay for a little while.”
“You do realize Ted Bundy was a trusting looking person right?” I ask Tom. I can’t believe he’s offering me a place to stay, I never would of thought he would do that. We just met and he offering me somewhere to live for a little bit.
“Who’s Ted Bundy?” Tom asks
.“Really dude, really. He killed people. You know what Gemma, you can move in, but Tom you’re moving out.” Harrison says to us. I just laugh and agree.
“Wow, damn. I try and do something nice and in the end I get kicked out. This is not how I pictured my day going.” Tom complains jokingly.
“How about this, I’ll spend one night there, and while I’m there I’ll use your guys wifi to look up other apartments. Deal?’ I ask both of them.
“Okay, but if you can’t find any you will stay with us for a little longer than a day.” Tom bargains.‘Fine, but the longest I will stay is 3 days.” I say. Who knew 3 days would turn into four years.
“He didn’t know who Ted Bundy was?” Molly asked after I told them the story.
“No, he didn’t. That night we spent the whole night basically trying to tell him about Ted but I still think he’s a little confused.”
When I got back home that night Tom had pizza and another episode of Riverdale for us to watch. Usually we just relax on the couch with my legs in his lap, but something about tonight was different, I tried not to get so cozy with him. It was like talking about him at work today made everything kinda awkward between us, which is also really weird because I’ve talked about him before. So why now am I getting so nervous around him. Wait why does he seem nervous around me? He keeps fidgeting his hands and glancing over at me like he wants to say something but decides not too. Maybe I should ask him what’s wrong, or maybe he’ll turn the question around on me and ask me what’s wrong. I don’t know why I’m freaking out this much. He’s just Tom, my best friend. He was the one who gave me somewhere to live, he was the one to who protected me against my ex who was a little too clingy, he was my shoulder to cry on when I told him about Genny. Tom is my person, okay so is Harrison but I’m not in love with Harrison. Don’t get me wrong, he’s so gorgeous that I wouldn’t be mad to be with him, but I never got that feeling with him, only with Tom.
“Gemma, I got home earlier this morning then you thought I did. Um, and I kinda accidentally heard a conversation you were having with Harrison. Well Part of it, um only yours. Where you told him you um” He stops and looks down and the ground.
“Where I told him what?” I ask turning to face him. If I remember this morning's conversation he might of heard me tell Harrison I like Tom.
“Come on, Gem. You can’t wear that shirt.” Harrison said while sitting on my bed waiting for me to be done so we can go get breakfast or well lunch . Well technically we still also have to wait till Tom gets back from some meeting about the script.
“Are you giving me fashion advice Mr. Osterfield?” I question him while taking off my sweater, leaving me just in a tank top. I mean he may be an idiot but I’m still gonna listen to him.
“You need to wear stuff that will get Tom attention. Like that dark blue shirt, that’s way to big on you but it hangs over and shows your shoulder. It really bring out the light blue in your eyes. Plus it’s one of Tom favorite shirts on.” He tells me as I’m looking through my closet.
“Okay, and why would I need to get Tom’s attention?”
“Cause you love him and he loves you. I mean you already have his attention no matter what you wear but still.”
“What! I don’t love Tom your crazy.” I say and look down to try and hide my blush.
“Gemma. Stop lying to yourself. Come on you need to tell him.”
“Ugh, why can’t you tell him for me.” I whine while falling onto my bean bag chair I have in my room.
“What are we in high school? Plus I have but he doesn’t believe just like you don’t believe me either.” He explains while getting up and getting into my closet to find the top.
“How would I even tell him. I mean what if I make a fool out of myself.” I continue to whine as I get up and put on the shirt.
“Practice on me.”
‘Harrison no that’s weird I can’t”
“Come on I’m waiting.”
“Harrison.”
“Gemma.”
“Look I know were best friends and like you’re everything to me and I really don’t want this to change anything between us. Like that would be the worst thing in the world. But I have to tell something that scared me but I think it’s time you know. I love you and I’ve loved you forever.” I rush out.
“That’s perfect, Gem. Honestly if and when you tell Tom I bet you he will cry.” I don’t say anything after he says that I just hug him and that’s when Tom walked in.
“You were telling Harrison that you were in love with him.” He blurts.
“Because I am.” I say then I realized what Tom said “Wait, what?”
“Look it’s okay. I’m happy for you guys really. I just you wanted to be sure. Um I’m gonna go to bed.” He quickly stats and gets up. I jump up as well and yell wait as I grab his wrist. He just looks at me waiting for me to speak.
“I do love Harrison, but as a brother. Tom.” I pause and take a deep breathe. “Tom, I was practicing to tell you, that I love you. Because I do love you. I’m in love with you Tom.” I tell him. It takes him a second to grasp what I said but the second he did, he kisses me. Not like a little peck but a full blown kiss. His hands were on my cheeks while my hands found and just rested on his hips. Spark were flying, like it felt like the fourth of July and I was loving every second of it. I honestly wish it would of went further but then we heard someone clear their throat.
“Oh sorry, I’ll um be in my room, with earphones in. Be safe you two.” Harrison winks and quickly walks into his bedroom and shuts the door.
“Well that was awkward.” I laugh while stepping back a little.
“Yeah. Just a little. So you love me?” Tom asks.
“Yeah, I really do, I’m sorry if you thought I liked Haz.”
“Yeh, It’s okay. I love you too.” He tell me and I swear if it weren't the fact he stepped closer to me and put his hand on my waist I think I would of fell. Hearing the person you love tell you that they love you as well. It’s the best feeling in the entire world.
“Can I kiss you again?” He asks. Like that’s even a question, like duh. But I nods and smile. Kissing him was like if you kiss happiness, that’s what it felt like. It may sound cheesy but this honestly the way I would want to start and end every single day for the rest of my life. We spent almost the entire night just talking and stealing kisses from each other until we both ended up falling asleep on the couch together. Talking to Tom is always the easiest thing to do, but now that I’ve told him that I love him, it easier. Like I finally told him all of my secrets.
When I woke up the next morning, Tom was gone, and when he wouldn't answer any of my texts or calls all day. Then when I got home from work that night he still wasn’t there. I tried to wait up for him but I got so tired so I went.This went on for about a week. We would either just pass each other and say a quick hello or goodbye and that's it, or we would simply just miss each other. He finally texted but it was only like little text, ‘Working late.’, ‘Sleeping in the trailer’, ‘At the gym’. It was almost like he was avoiding me. Before I told him that I loved him we would always talk, if it was through texts, calls, or in person. No matter what he was working. It was like telling him was a big mistake. I asked Harrison once this about it but the rest of the time he’s also been MIA as well.
“Haz, hey can I ask a simple question?” I ask him when I see him eating some chips one afternoon.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Is Tom avoiding me. I know I sound like a baby but. I’ve barely seen nor talked to him this week.” I ask while grabbing some of his chips.
“Gem, he’s been really busy with filming this week. Like barely any breaks. Like Friday is one of his only days off. Talk with him then.” He suggests like it nothing
.“Okay I guess I can try.” I tell him. I just hope he really has been busy and doesn't regret telling me he loves me.
“Tessa, stop. I didn’t need all my face cleaned sweet girl.” I laugh while trying to get her from licking my face. God if anything ever happens where I don’t talk to Tom anymore. I’m so claiming Tessa, she is the perfect dog ever.
“I guess she really thought you needed a bath.” Tom says casually as he walks down the stairs into living room in nothing but sweats. Yes, Tom please kill me with your good looks.
“Look Tess there's daddy go clean him. Maybe he needs a bath.” I laugh. He kinda laughs, like a little chuckle.
“Nah, I don’t need a bath right now. Gemma, can we can talk?” He asks once he finally gets Tessa off of him.
“Sure. What’s up?” I answer sitting up on the couch so he can join me.
“So, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should forget what happen last week since it really didn’t mean anything and so it doesn't affect us as friends.” He says after being quiet for a few minutes once he sat down.
“Um, It didn’t mean anything?” I question looking at him as if he had just grown two more heads.
“Yeah, I mean we kissed, we said some things. But I think it was a mistake and we really didn’t think it through.”
“I’m sorry. You kissed me, you told me you loved me, after you got jealous because you thought I loved Harrison. If you didn’t mean any of it, then why did you do it?” I snap at him. How was it a mistake, why would you ever tell someone you love them and then say it was a mistake.
“I never said I didn’t mean what I said. I just said that it was a mistake.”
“What does that even mean Tom. Was the kiss a mistake? What was the mistake?”
“Gemma, it’s not that easy to -.”He starts to say but I cut him off.
“Tom, If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel nothing between us, then I’ll stop and leave this alone. I’ll leave all this alone and we can move on like nothing ever happened. I’ll even move out if that’s what you want. But I need you to tell me that you don’t feel anything between us, nothing all all.” I tell him. He just stares into my eyes for a few second not saying anything. That’s when Harrison walks in.
“Oh, did I just interrupt something important here?” He asks after notching the tension between Tom and I.
“No, It’s fine. I got the answer I needed. Goodbye Tom.” I answer while standing up and walking over to the door to grab my flats and car keys.I can’t believe I ever thought that Tom would like me more than a friend. I thought after last week that everything was perfect, Tom kissed me, he told me he loved me. I thought my life was on the right track. Then he goes and tells me that it was all a mistake. I love Tom, I’m in love with him, and I would do anything to be with him, but i can’t explain to me his feelings then I don’t want to be there anymore. I can’t stay in a place where the man I love lives.
“So, he said it all was a mistake. Like what does that even mean?” Jacob asks me. I came into work to gossip and ask them their opinions on what I should do. Luckily Molly offered to let me stay the night at her house while I gather my thoughts through all of this.
“I got no idea. That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out myself. But it just sucks cause this is going to change everything between us.” I tell them while looking at my nails.
“Maybe, Tom really does want to be with you but he’s afraid of what will happen once the fans know.” Lila said. She is the newest employee we just got 3 weeks ago. She still finds it crazy that I know Spider-Man.
“His fans already know who I am, they actually want us to date. So that can’t be it.” I reply. It’s actually kinda funny, because not only does his fans want us together but his family wants us together as well.
“Look at this , Gemma. It’s Tom’s baby blanket. God, I remember when this would cover his whole body.” Nikki, Tom’s mum told me. We were in their attic doing a little bit of spring cleaning which basically turned into looking through all of her sons baby boxes.
“Now it will only over his legs.” I laugh while refolding Sam and Harry’s old baby onesie that we found.
“When are you and Tom gonna give me grand-babies that I can give this stuff too.” She asks me.
“Nikki!” I gasp. “We aren’t ever dating. He doesn’t even like me like that.” I reply.
“Don’t lie. Tom loves you, like it’s kinda annoying not gonna lie. Plus his fans love you. If you would actually get on your social media you would see that they all think you both are cute together and should be a couple.” Harry says while walking up the attic stairs to come and join us.
“That is true, the fans do love you, but I think we love you more. Maybe even more than Tom himself.” Nikki jokes.
“Yeah, but what am I gonna do. Tom never shows me anything that he wants to be in a relationship with me.”
“That’s because he’s a div, honestly my brother is not the smartest lad there is.” Harry tells me.
“Harry, language.” Nikki warns, but Harry just laughs. “Tom will see that one day you both are meant to be.”
“I hope.” I reply.
I decided that I’m gonna stay in a hotel for a few days until I can find a decent apartment for me to live in. Molly actually gave me great advice last night. To turn off my cell phone, to not answer any calls or text whatsoever and that today I should go over to the apartment and start packing some of my things. I believe that maybe in a few months we can try and be really great friends again but I know I can’t have a good relationship with him if I’m going to be scared of having any awkward run ins in the house. So it’s better if I move out for a little while. So at this very moment I am back in my bedroom trying to find my suitcases, I thought I left them in my closet but I guess not. Maybe Harrison would know, I can go to his room and ask. Once I walk out of my room I run into Tom who was heading into the kitchen. He looked like he hadn’t been to sleep at all last night. I can understand that.I expected him to just move and get out of my way but he hugs me. He just grabs me and hugs me like he hasn’t seen me for years
.“I was so worried. Haz and I have been calling you all night. We didn’t know where you were after you left. Then you wouldn’t answer. I thought you were dead.” He explains after he finally lets me go.
“I’m fine Tom. I just needed space.” I tell them while crossing my arms. “Actually I’m only back so I can pack up some of my stuff. Do you know where my suitcases are?’ I ask trying not to make full eye contact with him.
“What? No, you can’t leave. Look I need to explain why I said what I said last night.” He tries but I just roll my eyes and walk past him so I can head over to Harrison’s room.“Gemma, please. Let me explain.” I ignore him again and walk a little closer to Haz’s room.“I’m scared. Okay, I’m scared of losing you.” With that I stopped. I turn around and look him in the eye.
“No, you don’t get to just explain. Tom, I told you I loved you, you kissed me and told me that you loved me as well, then you just ignore me for a week straight then you tell me that it was all a mistake. How do you think that makes me feel. I love you and you broke my heart.” I snap at him
.“Two minutes, please Gemma. Give me two minutes to explain.” I just nod and sit down on the couch. “When I thought you said that you were in love with Harrison, it killed me. I have never wanted to kill my best friend more than I did right then. He was taking you from me. You, the person who I am so in love with. Then you told me that you loved me. God, I swear I seen stars and fireworks going off, so I kissed you. Then I told you I loved you as well. That was all the truth. Then the next morning while I was in the gym I did a lot of thinking. I love you so much, but I also love our friendship so much as well and I don’t want to ruin that. So I made a decision that was stupid. I would ignore you, make you not want to like me like that. Not really thinking that it would affect our friendship. Last night I thought I would tell you it was a mistake so maybe we could forget about it and carry on with our friendship. Even though that would be the hardest thing to do because I love you so god dang much. Gemma, I’m not perfect, hell, I’m far from it. But there isn’t an ounce of me that isn’t sorry for hurting you because I really do love you. So all I’m asking is not for you to forgive me but to at least work with me so we can fix not only our friendship but hopefully our relationship.” He really did hurt me,but honestly what he did isn’t as bad as some people’s relationships I guess.
“Tom, I love you so much as well. So yes, I will work with you to fix this, because I want to be with you so god damn bad.” I reply smiling at him
.“Is it alright if I kiss you then?”He asks, I don’t say anything I just walk over to him and kiss him myself. Tom is the person I could see myself ending up with, he really is the love of my life. I get I’m only 22 but come on when you know, you know.
“Jeez, I really do walk in on the wrong times, that or you guys need to get a room.” Harrison says after he walks in the front door with his gym bag, oh so I guess he wasn’t home. We both just flick him off and go back to kissing. So maybe, there is hope for us, or maybe there isn’t. Maybe we’ll stay together for the rest of our lives, or maybe we don’t. All I can wish for is that we will always be friends because this is one friendship I would hate to give up.
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[Fanfic, 100% Orange Juice] Lazy Sunday
Series: 100% OJ / Suguri
Words: 1510
Characters: Suguri, Hime
Originally Posted: March 6th, 2017 (original here)
A/N: Another SugiHime story. This one was a bit self-indulgent, because it basically started with a tangent that I really didn’t want to let go of, and eventually just tagged a story onto the end of it. I love tangents, but usually try to be a little more restrained nowadays. Still fun as heck, though.
It was a lazy Sunday. Well, it would have been. It was a curious phenomenon; before Suguri met Hime, every Sunday was a lazy Sunday. It was the only flavour of Sunday available. You could perhaps make a call to the manager of the Sunday store and ask her to stock new and innovative varieties of Sunday, and she would simply push up her metaphorical glasses and say, “Our consumer data says that Lazy Sundays are the best selling Sunday by far. Do you know how many Lazy Sundays are being consumed worldwide? In fact, we have a 100% takeup rate. Why would we stock anything else, given that everybody loves Lazy Sundays so much?”
Well, you would say, Lazy Sundays are very nice and nobody is denying that, but a change is as good as a rest, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with trying just a little something new every once in a while to see if you like it. The store manager would look at you, check the data on her phone (which looks suspiciously not like actual data and more like a candy-based puzzle game) and say, “Sorry, but it just wouldn’t be profitable for us. If you want Sundays, you’ll just have to abide by the ones we have, or check with one of our competitors. By the way, the only ones we have are lazy ones, and our competitors don’t exist.”
So, defeated, you would slink back to your bed for an enforced lie-in of at least two hours, followed by shuffling about to make an easy breakfast so you could count as being awake at noon. It was the only choice.
Until, of course, Hime appeared. Hime had taken the world of Sunday selling by storm, mainly because she was from Space, and Space’s idea of a Sunday was very different. Mainly it didn’t exist, because having seven days of the week when you weren’t on a chunk of rock hurtling through space around the day’s namesake seemed a little silly.
In the end, Hime had bravely purged any and all traces of the insidious Lazy Sunday from Suguri’s home, because Lazy Sundays bored her and there were few things as dangerous as Hime when she was bored. It brought out her impish streak, which was a mile wide and twice as long, with every step being a new and embarrassing hazard for anybody trying to walk the path. She was a master at unexpected teasing, a 2nd Dan at dry retorts, an unrelenting agent of whimsy that spread her missive of mischief as far as her arms would allow.
In short, Hime had not sat in the core of a spaceship for 10,000 years so she could be bored and sleep in all day. She did, at least, come fully furnished with helpful suggestions for things that would entertain her and keep everybody within an arm’s reach of their sanity.
“Suguri, let’s go visit Saki today.”
Suguri sucked the top of her pen. She was valiantly wrestling with the crossword puzzle, which she knew from experience was harder than wrestling a polar bear. There were things printed words on a sheet of tree pulp could do to your brain that even half a ton of raw ursine muscle and carnivorous intent couldn’t.
“I do enjoy Saki’s company,” she murmured, in between scrawling “apotheosis” into the little box with her childish, loopy handwriting.
“Of course you do. She’s blonde, homeless, and hilariously dangerous. You have a track record with that kind of girl, you know,” Hime said. Hime was currently draped across the loveseat, her head lolling over the arm, looking at Suguri upside down. Her hair was hanging down; her forehead was formidable.
“One girl does not constitute a track record. Ooh, constitute. I think that fits. Anyway, even if I enjoyed myself, what would you do?”
“Gossip about old times, braid each other’s hair, debase myself for baked goods. It has all the makings of a fun afternoon!”
Suguri sighed, and shut her newspaper. It was a reluctant admission of defeat; even her smallest, squigliest handwriting had not managed to compress ‘recalcitrant’ into a space meant for four letters. “Yes, well. Last I heard, Saki was in Brazil. Even with our speed, we’d struggle to fly to Brazil in less than twelve hours.”
Hime pouted. Or perhaps not. Hime was very good at pouting without actually pouting. She would imply a pout, and that made them all the more effective because she could still retain the appearance of being refined and sanguine while being childish. “Oh, boo. I know! Let’s hire out a rowboat. We can enjoy a day on the water. Me, you, the sunshine, dragonflies, reeds, lilypads, krakens...”
Aside from the fact that Hime didn’t seem to know if she wanted to sail down the River Nile or straight down into the cold, pressurised depths of the ocean, Suguri had some private objections to that plan. Firstly, she thought Hime had spent enough time on boats. A spaceship, according to Suguri, was just a boat that happened to be in space. According to Hime, it was a ship, because a boat had to have oars, and could you imagine trying to paddle to Neptune? Neither one of them was correct, but both of them were very passionate about it.
Secondly, Suguri had recently brought home a bookshelf. (She didn’t know quite how she’d done it. She acquired furniture the same way that people acquired lost puppies; it just sort’ve appeared at her ankles one day and she picked it up and fussed it and gave it a loving home). She had donated it to Hime, and kept a semi-close eye on the contents. In the last two weeks, it had accrued a number of books about pirates, and Suguri thought that Hime might not be able to resist an opportunity to swash some buckles.
“Why don’t you take a look at your unfinished knitting projects?” Suguri asked, jerking her head towards the corner. The corner was dominated by a sprawling jungle of worsted spread, in a variety of beautiful pastel colours. Last time Suguri had checked, Hime had been working on a shapeless bundle of cloth that she described as ‘a scarf, but it’s a very postmodern kind of scarf.’
Hime winced. “Aha. I think I’ll leave that for today. One day, I shall have needlework that strikes wonder into the hearts of the gods themselves, but I have thousands of years to attain that skill, so I needn’t be in a hurry.”
Suguri smiled to herself. She had knit, on and off, for a stretch of fifty years in her ten thousand year life, but Hime was adamant about learning to do it herself. The next time Hime went to stay with Kyoko, Saki or Iru, Suguri fully intended to knit her a nice sweater to see the reaction. (Suguri had also, in her past, spent a long time wrangling various ‘postmodern’ knitted garments back into wearable shape, with questionable success.)
“Hah… That still doesn’t solve the problem of what to do. Suguri, do you mind if I spoon feed you three tubs of chocolate fudge ice cream? I feel like that will bring us both closer to enlightenment.”
In Suguri’s opinion, the only thing eating three tubs of ice cream in a row would enlighten her of was her lunch. She took the suggestion as the warning shot that it was. It was time to unveil her secret weapon.
“Hime, how much do you like loud noises?”
“I’m not really a huge fan,” Hime said, conveniently forgetting that she was sometimes a steady source of loud noises.
“Okay. How much do you like Kae?”
“I feel like you just asked the same question twice but in different ways. Oh well. I suppose it depends on how you serve her – rare, medium or well done?”
“Anything less than well done wouldn’t even singe that one. Anyway, she recently made some friends who are also loud and have guitars, and sent us some free tickets.”
“Free tickets! Those are the best kind,” Hime replied wryly. “Oh, but what shall I wear? My wardrobe is rather light on ripped t-shirts and spiked collars, although that could be addressed. Will we need to daub ourselves with eyeliner and draw stars on our faces, do you think?”
With that, Hime launched herself from the loveseat, pleased with the itenerary of the day. It was a fine one. There would be loud noises and moshing, which, in Hime’s understanding, was like dancing except it incorporated violence, and thus was a fusion of two things she was rather good at. There would also be Kae, who would most likely be louder than the band, but always a source of fun.
Suguri watched her go, pleased with her work. Although crossword mastery still eluded her, Hime was happy and not sowing gentle chaos in the surrounding area, which was victory enough. Unlike Hime, though, Suguri knew exactly what she would be wearing to Kae’s concert.
Earplugs.
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Chapter-by-Chapter, The Naming, Chapter 7
PELLINOR
Maerad wakes up the next day in the late afternoon and at first refuses to open her eyes because she’s warm and comfortable and doesn’t want to wake up from what she thinks is a dream. She remembers that it’s not a dream, though, and opens her eyes to a pretty sun-lit view out a window that is, for all purposes, her own.
She realizes Cadvan has been sitting across the room reading in a chair, having, we learn, taken over from Silvia because Silvia had duties to attend to. Since Cadvan has no duties currently, Silvia ordered him to sit with Maerad so she wouldn’t wake up alone in an unfamiliar place.
Can we note that Cadvan didn’t sit on the bed or even sit close to the bed, y’all? He knows Maerad is wary of dudes, and though she’s not that wary of Cadvan he still sat in a chair entirely across the room with a book. I shouldn’t have to point out basic decency but here we are.
He does cross the room to comfort her when she’s worried she’s been a lot of trouble, and reminds her that she isn’t trouble because bad things have happened to her.
“Every human being is worth the trouble of being cared for. No matter who they are. You have a gift, a special gift, so people are all the more interested.”
Maerad takes a moment to collect herself and says that Malgorn and Silvia and Cadvan are all very kind.
“I haven’t been especially kind,” said Cadvan wryly.
“You have been kind. You took me out of Gilman’s Cot. You didn’t have to.”
She worries again that she doesn’t belong and that she doesn’t know anything. Cadvan says that she will eventually know how she belongs, but she’s only just arrived and things take time. He says that he belongs no particular place, either - music is his home, and he thinks it is hers too.
Maerad felt she couldn’t bear his understanding, and in a way preferred his brusqueness.
We learn that before Cadvan scried her a few chapters back, she hadn’t cried in years, not even when her mother or Mirlad died. “The world she lived in had been too harsh for tears.” She cries a little now, though not much.
Cadvan eventually leaves her so she can get dressed, saying he’ll be back in a few minutes to show her around if she’d like and they would stop by the kitchen for snacks. Maerad agrees, and when he leaves takes a moment to hold her lyre, and decides that Cadvan might have a point about music being home.
Then she starts experiencing a hella lot of pain, “as if claws had reached inside her and were pulling her apart.”
Look, some of y’all might think she’s being dramatic. I am here to tell you, as a sufferer from the devil cramps from hell, Maerad is not being dramatic. That shit gets me sent home from work doubled over in pain, y’all. That shit has knocked me out (it’s better now that I’m older, thank goodness, and yes, I’ve had it checked out before anybody starts worrying).
Thus does Maerad start menstruating. She has my ENTIRE sympathy. The blood also freaks her out, since she can’t think of any injury she’s sustained that could do this.
She concentrated on breathing, as she did when she was beaten, to keep her mind off the pain, but it didn’t go away. She was sobbing with fright.
Cadvan knocks three times and receives no answer, so he opens the door and calls for her and notices that she’s curled up in a ball on the floor and also starts freaking out a bit. After ascertaining exactly what the problem isn’t, Cadvan clearly comes to the correct conclusion and asks her if this has happened before. When she says no, he explains in broad strokes and tells her she isn’t cursed (she was worried). When she asks why it hurts so much if nothing’s wrong, he has to tell her he doesn’t know but knows that it just does sometimes.
He offers to go find Silvia, but Maerad aks him not to leave her so he waits until she feels a little better. When she does, he goes and obviously gets Silvia, since Silvia comes in before long with some painkillers and menstrual rags (PSA I love my diva cup the days of menstrual rags are really only like a generation behind us and dear holy god can you fucking imagine). Anyway, Silvia theorizes that Maerad’s body went ‘heeeeeey enough food for a few weeks, time to jumpstart this BULLSHIT’ (emphasis my own), and gives Maerad a little more info that sadly the book glosses over a little bit. Silvia says “It is dreadful that any girl should be kept in such ignorance of her own body” and honestly if Silvia had done nothing else cool in her life I’d love her for that sentence. SPREAD THE INFORMATION. EDUCATE THE PEOPLE.
Anyway, Silvia takes her to the kitchen and fits her out with snacks. Maerad tries salad with no dressing and likes it. Maerad and I are clearly different people. Silvia gives Maerad some more bard info and tells her about the Meet, and when she asks Maerad how she feels Maerad tells her that she, Maerad, is happy. I’d cry if I had a sliver more of a heart.
Silvia coaxes Maerad into talking a little bit more about her experiences, and Maerad mentions offhand that she was beaten.
“Were you beaten often?”
“Everyone was beaten. Even Gilman’s woman usually had a black eye,” Maerad said dismissively. “Me less than most. I pretended to be a witch.”
Silvia says that no one is beaten in Innail. To do so would be a crime. Maerad asks how they keep the peace, and Silvia tells her that she’s found that so long as people’s needs are met there are incredibly few who try to hurt other people or take from them. Those few have trials, and might have to repay someone they stole from or return what they stole or work for a family they hurt or provide weregild. At most they would be exiled, because Innail also doesn’t have prisons.
“If he is sick, or mad, as sometimes happens, he will be treated for his sickness.. The law is that the hungry must be fed, and the homeless must be housed, and the sick must be healed. That is the way of the Light.”
This is the future liberals want, y’all.
Silvia and Maerad discuss Cadvan a little bit, and Silvia says he’s hard to know well despite that fact that he’s a Truthteller (someone who basically makes other people want to tell the truth around him) and that he never really lies, which can make being around him uncomfortable.
“He is a difficult person to know well. Most bards are.”
This makes Maerad ask if Silvia is a bard, because she realizes that she doesn’t actually know. Silvia is, in fact, though she says she doesn’t do the legends and the mysteries and the magic so much. Silvia grows shit and knows basically everything about herblore and medicine.
I’m going to skim all the getting ready for the welcoming feast and stuff, but Maerad gets a super pretty dress and is told to bring her harp because bards.
When they get to the actual feast, Cadvan runs into a friend of his named Saliman.
[Maerad] saw with surprise one man with dark skin… Maerad bowed back, grateful for the formality, which smoothed her awkwardness. She had thought all people were fair-skinned like she was, and felt anew the scope of her ignorance.
Saliman is basically tied with Silvia for The Coolest later, by the way, but that’s spoiler-y.
Even bards are prejudiced dickfaces sometimes, we learn through the feast. Saliman is from Turbansk, one of the bard schools a ways south that is located in one of the more advanced nations amongst the seven (the other six don’t really get touched on much). They’re also the ones currently on the front lines fighting the Dark, which a lot of the northern schools dismiss.
Saliman also met Milana, Maerad’s mother, once, or at least he heard her play. She was a fine musician, he tells Maerad.
So Saliman sits with Maerad and Cadvan, and when he gets up to talk to someone else another bard (Helgar of Ettinor) comes over to talk to Maerad and grill her on her adventures. Cadvan rescues her after a bit by having her perform music with him, and when Maerad returns she notices that Helgar left when Saliman returned to his seat. Saliman says that ‘her friend’ distrusts southerners.
“Oh,” Maerad said. “Why?”
“There are not many like me so far north, so I am a curiosity.” Saliman spoke lightly, but Maerad saw a hardness in his eyes and a curl in his lip.
Silvia pops up to send Maerad to bed. She can’t sleep for a while, thinking of the evening,
and Silvia’s pearl-strewn dress, and the soft, lovely bloom of the tapers glancing off the pillars of that beautiful hall… but above all, Saliman’s dark face, angered by Helgar’s rudeness. Maerad’s skin prickled with some innate animal wariness when she thought of Helgar. “Not all bards are to be trusted,” Cadvan had told her, and now she thought she knew who he meant.
THRONE OF GLASS
We’re covering three chapters this time to have the same approximate percentage of the book involved.
Celaena is woken by Chaol and is a brat about getting up and doing things. If this sounds familiar, it’s because it is. This could be the one concrete aspect of Celaena’s character. There are lines about Chaol not showing if he notices how much skin Celaena is showing. Chaol asks why she’s so tired. She says she was up until four in the morning reading. Celaena complains that Chaol is mean to her. Chaol points out that she’s an assassin. Celaena complains some more. Chaol reminds her that the first Test (complete with Important Capitalization) is today. Celaena decides she isn’t actually hungry and goes to change, making sure to embarrass Chaol by taking her shirt of before she is fully into the bedroom. She comes back out complaining about the clothes she has to wear.
FInally they leave her rooms and go to the training room (?) where everything is nice and marble and there’s a mezzanine. Celaena has a tiff with Cain where he does elevator eyes to her and snarks that he thought she’d have left by now. Celaena does not question why she would have left if nothing has happened, but tells Chaol that she’s going to kill Cain. She can Chaol spar. She locks blades with his presumable longsword with the rapier she chooses off the walls after being snobby about killing people with swords vs killing people with a pickaxe. I despair. Chaol wins. I can’t decide if I should despair.
Chaol tells her to pick a different weapon and try to make it interesting. Celaena picks her old faves, two giant hunting knives.
My dear old friends.
A wicked smile spread across her face.
The chapter ends.
The next chapter (chapter 12, if you’re interested) starts with someone calling for their attention before she throws herself at Chaol. They take her knives. The weaponsmaster has them all go around and introduce themselves like they’re at a meet-and-greet for particularly violent single folks. I continue to despair, but here’s a list:
Cain, who introduces himself as a soldier in the king’s army from the Whitefang mountains.
Xavier Farrul, Master Thief of Melisande.
Six seasoned former soldiers, dishonorably discharged
Three other thieves, including Nox Owen, the vaguely good-looking guy from earlier
Bill Chastain, the eye-eater. He looks plain and eats the eyes of his victims. Apparently he told them that.
Ned Clement, called himself Scythe, used to hack apart temple priestesses with a scythe.
Two scarred, silent men theorized to be the cronies of a far off warlord.
Four assassins, including a gangly, hughty boy; a hulking brute; a disdainful runt of a man; and a sniveling, hawk-nosed prat who claimed he had an affinity for knives.
Grave, whose shackles weren’t removed without stern warning.
A partridge in a pear tree.
Got all that? Now forget it. None of it’s important except one dude aside from Cain, and he gets an exposition paragraph in book two because he’s so unmentioned in book one.
Celaena is mad that she has to pretend to be Lillian Gordaina from Bellhaven, rich merchant’s daughter moonlighting as a jewel thief. I don’t know why, it’s exactly as ridiculous as everything else.
The Test is an endurance run. Celaena makes sure to say in the middle the whole time and throws up a lot when she’s done. She needs a doctor.
Thus the second chapter ends.
Our final chapter for tonight starts with Celaena being released for lunch and a discussion of the merits of salmon. I despair.
A section break later Chaol walks into her room in the morning to find her doing pull ups. For some reason he is impressed: it seems like a basic workout routine for someone who is expected to be in shape to me, but idk, I hate exercise without immediate purpose.
It rains, so they don’t train, because nobody trains in the rain I guess they might mess up their hair. This is how Chaol and Celaena are strolling the palace halls and meet Princess Nehemia of Eyllwe.
Nehemia and Kaltain were smushed together for courtly stuff, presumably because Kaltain is the only woman of a similar age around. We never meet any others. Nehemia is displeased because she doesn’t like Kaltain, and is pleased that Celaena speaks Eyllwe, which is fair.
After Kaltain leaves, Nehemia asks where Celaena learned Eyllwe. Celaena says she knew an Eyllwe woman who taught her.
“A slave of yours?” [Nehemia’s] tone sharpened, and Chaol flicked his eyes toward them.
“No,” Celaena said hurriedly. “I don’t believe in keeping slaves.” Something twisted in her gut at the thought of all those slaves she’d left behind in Endovier, all those people doomed to suffer until they died. Just because she’d left Endovier didn’t mean Endovier ceased to be.
Nehemia says that Celaena is unlike the others of the court. They chat about why Nehemia is there (Nehemia says her father sent her), Celaena says she’s more of a book person than a hunter when Nehemia asks, and Nehemia says that Adarlan burned all the libraries and museums and universities. Celaena says Eyllwe isn’t the only place where that happened. Celaena complains about her corset. Celaena ruminates on not trusting other women, since they have all disappointed her, “especially girls with agenda and power of their own.”
She wonders if she’s wrong.
Later Chaol eyes her up in her rose and jade dressing gown and they diss Kaltain and discuss Chaol’s type. Chaol reflects that Celaena is dangerous and he’s not sure who would survive if the confrontation he’s worried is coming does indeed come. Say it with me: I despair.
COMPARISON
I just despair, y’all. I just do. I went from thoughtful discussion of racism (albeit in the form of White Girl Learns Because People are Mean to Her Black Friend, though at least Maerad has literally only just met Saliman and knows it’s bad to dislike him just because he has a different skin color. Also, Helgar’s racism is much more subtle than anything seen in Throne of Glass, which means people aren’t let off the hook because they aren’t ‘THAT bad’) to someone whining about clothes and murderers introducing themselves around tea and cakes played straight (incredibly straight).
Can we discuss the most milquetoast denial of slavery ever, though, while we’re here? “I don’t believe in slavery.” Tough cookies, it’s happening right in front of your face. You better believe in it. Why can’t Celaena just say “No, I don’t keep slaves. Nobody should keep slaves. Slavery is wrong.”
“I don’t believe in slavery” bite me.
Also, witness Celaena thinking about the mass of nameless faceless slaves in Endovier. Look, if you want to play the ‘nobody learned names’ thing, okay, sure. I’ll roll with it. “Something twisted in her gut when she thought of the people she’d left behind - the woman who always hummed at night, soothing them all to sleep, the girl Celaena had helped up when she tripped in line, the man who always coughed just when you wanted to sleep, even the man who always tried to steal her rations. She’d left them, and they might already be dead. Just because she was taken from Endovier didn’t mean Endovier stopped killing.”
Slaves are people. Talking about people in a faceless block is dehumanizing, especially when your character is supposed to have known these people and lived this life and now is supposed to be the hope of the trodden down and the understander of their plight. Stop it.
Still no wondering about the palace servants’ freedom or lack thereof.
That’s all I’ve got tonight, I’m super tired and my thoughts crept into the summaries a lot already anyway. Feel free to comment with aspects I’ve missed, I like learning things and talking.
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soooooooooooo bb,,,...,.,,,strawberrry.
......I JUST FIND IT
interestinggggggggg
how you Big mad cuz MY block game seeems
skrong or summn
hanh???
oh.
well.
i never blockedt you
on snapchat
or whatsapp (you weren’t even muted),
yup, i still haven’t
but i didn’t have a properly working phone...
still......don’t
but either way you keep threatening to split on me
like a weapon…fcking
manipulative as shit
it just seems to me that you just want to?
you never imprinted tho
but she did
so why should you?
i won’t ever, again, fight....
….with you.
my favorite accomplice
i wanted to learn with an open mind
even after my phone died
how to remain soft with you.
even after being callled
“old news"
pffft
at least until
i ‘m eventually murdered by a cisgender man...
but
don’t fckn
pppppppop shit
cuz like….. literally…..all i did was change my url.
shit, i Only blockedt you AFTER i saw you referencing gaslighting.
bc uhmm IIIIIIif that is about meeeeeeeeeeee
ha!!!
how fucking dare you.…..lyk....wuhh?
like when you said there is no difference between syn and alesia?????
HANH?
oh, but you think i blockedt you first bc i didn’t wanna get my feelings hurt?
….mhhhhhhh. ok.
seeems odd since you’re not liar
right, eli????
but,,,,,so what’s this about the cozi password change? am i just shifting too rapidly between your and my reality???
bet.
no, i blocked you on things after THAT
AND THAT WAS TODAY
oh, and didn’t your friend, my so-called “fighting buddy,” anan…
.just,,,,,fckn block me like i’m useless
trash
randomnly
after all
i asked
was that they
not speak to me
about you?
but YAAAAAAS twas ONLY Me and simply Myself and just i
who ain’t wanna get….hurt.
hanh?????
oh ,
obvi,
yeaaaaaaa
yeeeei
truuuu,
sooooo
sssssorry,,,,but
calling me “old news” or saying i’m “old too”
don’t forget your girl is 2 yrs older than you
and then staying silent for these few days about changing passwords
that..... already did that, boo
at least i sent alesia third party emails thru the app, boo
she pushin 30 and can only talk you
venuse....????. no....a
talking and
w a l k i ng tragedy
entyway don’t bring that up just to be loud and wrong about that too
you’re not always wrong tho, you know
you’d probably fuck up and slit my throat
powertripping
when i’m wrong about you
and you can only do that if you
black and white
me out
to NEVER BE WRONG
AND I DO
ACTUALLLY HATE THAT ABOUT YOU!!!!!
WHY CAN’T I EVER BE WRONG, ELI????
WHY????//
OH your emotions....? about your father that after 6 yrs you didn’t tell me about?
your reality? when you have a habit of projecting?
and lowkey being dishonest
to yourself first
and then subsequently
to me????
your time? when i’m mostly on yours?????
your efforts? like ripping up notes and telling me
“my turn” to get fucked
by you
was over
when the only reason i was tiredt
was bc i crashed
too tiredt after explaining to You
that
i‘m not even going to LET you play middleman
for a baby pushign 30????
oh. bet.
but since we’re being transparent:
here are receipts with timestamps:
http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-hop-hop
http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop+hop+bun
http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-bunny
yea you must love dirty laundry
oh.
but that’s what i knew about you.
oh:
be yr own guest my love
i Knew you would ignore the “old news” message since that's literally when you started telling on yourself
you do treat trans partners
like side hoes,
thasssa wholeBET
and some change
for you to create
cuz thassssssss
how you feel about me fr fr
so that “like” is mine but
i…..actually really Really love that you laughed tho.
bc i haven’t heard you fully belly laugh in a long time.
if ever iirh.
even after knowing you for 6+ years,
your supposed “first friend “ in the DMV
the person i can trust my life with
the only
you’re my only...
,,,,,even after i spiraled
and cut myself for the first time since middle school?
now my friends are fucking spotting you
and talking to each other
about you
oh, you didn’t know.
but i got mehndi done today
let a summer baby boy
love
a cut up
by me
body
before noon
today
thinking i’d see you and we could talk like,,,,
…..like real people do.
and you’d be distracted by the design and not zone in
on the failed cuts
on my wrist
since i’m shit at not just repeatedly carving into
white meat
when i can only use a ceramic blade
i just didn’t WANT you to
so i never “came home to [you]”
you said that on nov 4th/5th of last year
and
i’ve been looking up bpd all day
eventho i told you
i don’t trust the internet
sooooo you not telling me
didn’t hel p
but it’snot at all your job to
and i sitll
stilllstil stil stilllca’t see
....and i dind’t want you to see.
bc i’m not just a man.
i’m still femme
which you seem to love to forget
and still soft enough, i think.....
i hope…..or learning to be soft,,,,
where it won’t get me killed,,,,,
but where it still counts.
with…or without you.
either way i’m a man who loves you. a man whose phone died at 28% trying to get you to see that i was trying to be soft even after you called me
“old news”
but,,,,,.....,,,compared to …..who?????? sh....oooo??????
your new girlfriend who is 1 or 2 years older than you?????
and can’t speak to me
a man who is only barely out of 23???
and instead only whispers
to you?????
bruh, she’s clearly not fond of me.
and you’re not a liar ,
so don’t
she had to tell you that she wasn’t the one putting out “aggy energy”
specifically
during yennayer which
i ruined
and im still sorru
but which means
she’s probably done it in your apartment on purpose already, boo
didn’t think of that, did you
lingustically.,,,,,nope.
oh, but there’s power in a whisper, darling.
i am just cardinal like you
i am air too.
i should know
bc i accidentally whistled....and,,,,,,
i only blockedt you so that you wouldn’t “hurt [your] own feelings”
like you told anan you sometimes do.
sooooooooooooo yea... i
did it so you wouldn’t hurt you.
as cardinal water/pisces moons
are prone to do.
you can;t drain
and you can’t drown
ain’t that how i affirmed you
i already hurt me
when i dissociated
and i’m STILL FUCKING sorry
that there was blood that you had to see.
i couldn’t stay in my body long enough to clean fast enough
but i still didn’t want you to hurt you bc of me.
like you did repeatedly
bc of bpd or bc of basically cishet or at least cis ~queer girls
or other partners
like when you were with kat,
who’s still disgustingly attached to a messy white
and now a new black kid.....
or with shushoo.
and how you might with alesia.
no, correction: how you have with alesia.
how you will continue to, if you’re not careful, with alesia.
you’re a lion facing a prince of a house kitten ,....,
.,, who is homeless.
do you feel good, big boss?
all i asked was for you to listen t
o how you were speaking to me
on the phone
at your place of work
and when she’s there
possibly a place of worshiop
..... even after i told you
that i was intentionally putting energy into Not fighting you
and you
say you
"don’t wanna be a middle person"
but you also….wanna cape for yet another fucking cis girl.
who isn’t even muslim this time.
HOWtragic.
i couldn’t laugh
couldn’t ever laugh at sway
bc by whatever fortune if you do split or don’t
i still love you
i love you too much
but in those moments after that phone call….
after my phone died…
and my body couldn’t move to charge it.
wouldn’t move….
and all i could do was cry during the adhan.
bc you’re tooo much like matt now
i wish i knew what it could feel like to
hate someone
who called you
"OLD NEWS”
compared to a bitch pushing 30
youza WHOLE fuckn clown, dawg.
matt did this same shit
move me out for a new side bitch
yet anotehr cis
look at how cute trans love can be
oh
no
NO
no,
no
no
this is what you give me:
laughter.
BC what fucking luck.
BUT IT’S gotta be TROOF
s ince you don’t lie?/?
shit I LAUGHED TOO:
it sounds like….
NEITHER OF US
KNEW WHAT COULD
HAVE BROUGHT US
HERE, ELI.
maybe you nursing poison in your own home
and telling me i’m making you feel unwelcomed
on a blog and not to my face did it
fuckingggggggggg. why’ald.
you think it’s too much sweat????? false.
that apartment stayed cold.
too many tears?
ok ok yea troof.
but too much love? forreal?
we?????
ooooop
hoooop!!!
oh, you speakin’ french now. our collective colonizers tongue in 20gayteeeeeeeen?????
CAN’T RELATE
bc I’M TOOOOOO GAY
wow. we ruined it, fam???? fr fr?
nah, chosen fam.
you ruined us.
you ruined us over:
a cis girl and
your own impatience
and your own anger.
and my slow brain and my slow body
//
i’m not sure she’d find you from maryland
if you dissociated bc your other semi
but not
girlfriend emotionally abused you
until people who didn’t know you were muslim
thought you were fucking drunk
and you fucking stilllllll
work with her?????
why couldn’t you just wait until she found a new job???
ain’t she trying????
or izzzzzz she??????
hahhnh???
where was the damn rush?????
you’re like two goofy high schoool kids
reaching for the quickest nuts every 6 hours
like jesus fuck.
you’re irresponsible as shit telling me i’m a grown man making grown decisions and i see this
?????
unREASONABLE, ELI.
this isn’t a situation of a kettle calling a pot black
babe
bc i’m actually Black
and you’re not
but she’s black too.
what did i tell you:
"you datin’ two whole Niggas. if you fight me over her, you will lose either way.”
but instead you called me “obtuse”
SAT words for me
but not for you…….what.,,,.,,,,,,,, fckn luck……..
what luck,,,,,that the one person who housed me consistently
and kept me alive
when i trusted no one
would call me "old news”
and let their cis girlfriend
turn herself into your
personal "healing” …...
sibkid. \\\\
howTragic like all of CC’18
you know what happens when you slip and get sloppy and let a baby bitch be responsible for your healing?
she leaves.
for a real bitch
with microhealing abilities,
GOOFY.
she worships a new goddess every friday?????
well, i know only of orixas
and only of black power
but from what i know of goddesses OFF of OUR continent…
soooon...
at least one of them WILL want a soul from her
just letting you know it might not have to be hers.
…..OH!
and when i chargedt and openedt my phone after days of wandering. ….the last messages from you are:
YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID “LEAVE [[[[MMMMMYYYYYYY]]]]]] KEYS”
like a fucking baby.
imagine that.
even to you, i’m still a whore.
out…the…bakc….dooor.
??????
i couldn’t even work a john when i wanted to
if i was sad about you.
but imagine?????
a cis-pixie woman older than you
letting you treat her like a child?????
then
imagine me feeling shamed into leaving
bc of pictures of your smiling face
after i cut myself and felt shame
that
in your unwelcomed to both me and you
BLOOD
blood
is what brings me back
to life.
how.
fucking.
why’yald.
i blockedt you so that you didn’t lurk.
bc THat is what you do.
instead of speaking with me,
you seem to have expected me
to read your blog back 7 years.
and just know all of the fatherly things that trigger you.
like…even during the times when i was afraid of my own phone and laptop for 2 months bc of my sister, brother, and birth parents????
funny how i’m the youngest of us “grown folks” and yet still find that really
FUCKING
immature.
of YOU
to do
you really never knew me, or did you…..??
you donated to me before you even knew me.
so i know your heart has parts made of gold.
but now you show off your crystals and your gold.~~~
yep.
here we are.
you’ve "only every seen [me] as a boy.”
ok. bet.
and unti this post:
i’ve hardly heard you refer to me as a man.
so:
ain’t you late?
ain’t you late, babe??
ain’t you late?
i’m a year younger than you.
which means if you grown
i musta BEEN a man too, boo.
but you’ll always be
my favorite accomplice
and always be my favorite friend too.
but you cannot think you can play me by calling me
“old too” or “old news"
for young fish who is basically femme trade
and thinking i won’t cut open a fool.
which coincidentally always happens to be me
she’s hardly out to anybody important and lying at work too.
i must be bigger fool.
bc you knew better and didn’t do better.
but i’m being immature.
ok ...,.,,.,,
cute.
your pisces moon is keeping you from seeing clearly but that’s what young water seems…to do. to much light reflected; tho it is a fountain of youth.
she’s pushing 30 baby
but true, you’re her boo.
yea, a childish boo.
you ever wonder why her playlist from you had more songs than ours did?
why she can never keep a man around for valentines day?
oh but don’t you love “patterns”, baby????
unless it’s her leaving shit around the apartment
or her triggering you
or her treating your dick like it’s foreign,
even to you.
my gay ass was shookedt
when you told me you voluntarily
triggered yourself
for her kitty too
but i AM
a grown man
who is “running” from….you
you think that statement is not…. dishonest??
you really think that statement is true???
—
i didn’t run. i just
needed space
and you afforded me none.
you couldn’’t afford it.
february is before march which is before april
sooooooo it’s always a tight month ain’t it???????
oooooooh but you afforded her plenty.
she gets to take off her fucking pants while i try to figure out if i should move from a spot next to you….
on your fucking bed.
she took off her pants to climb near you before she could even say hi to
nooonoo
ahh right
and THEN ME.
“Oh, you CAN stay”
that’s what She told me.
and you said nothing.
so i left….the room.
i never run.
you pushed me out with your captain save-a-cis silence.
it’s violence.
and
you’re still pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing
until me…you know
i, the "old news”
just feels like he should just
fucking fall
onto the district streets
and she finds it
to her fucking fancy
to fall
into your lap
like a damn,,,,zel.
distressedt.
with a roof over her head outside of your apartment too.
woooooooops!
yip, as she is probably prone to do.
her kind….isn’t new….boo.
her kind isn’t new to me
her kind isn’t new to you
you ever wonder why she feels so familiar to you?
she reminds Me of the girl who told you
she could never marry you
and is now trying to date someone just like you
so don’t be so unkind to me
or to you
or be so foolish
as to believe i gave up on you
you gave up on me
and on top of that
you think i just...ran
ran….with what clothing?
the ones you packed up for me and left at the door
that i was suppose to pick up
and slide out the back….like a fucking whore?
you just tryna be
a cissie's bae
who stay clownin on trans folks now?
oooooooh issa bet, mo
. i mean.,,,.,,.mhhhh i guess?
—==—
but troooof, i don’t “need" anybody.
but i want you.
but you need her.
that’s how it work, don’t it?????
that’s why you risk job security every day.
and let her leave her panties on my clothes.
and let her tell me i "can stay" in …..A, not MY, spot next to you
in yo'bed?
what fucking fools. the two of you.
but “no one is forcing [me] to"
oh, baby you /are/ forcing me too
i look on your blog and then find out you’ve been feeling “unwelcome in [your] own home”
this whole fucking time
all the way since early november, innit?????
if i love you at all,
what else am i to do?????????????
??????????????????????????/
know that you will self-destruct
and just…wait for you to????????????????????
???????????????????????????????/
no
i didn’t run.
you just fucking pushed me.
and you’re still fucking pushing.
and you’ll keep pushing.
bc that is what you do.
embe…..@strawberreli
se sá’m te konne nu’ou.
you like microblogging so much
so like it if you read this shit
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I watched the pilot episode of The Apprentice (US) and holy shit do I have thoughts
Predictable opening - “I'm Donald Trump, I got so much fucking money I'm basically fucking drowning in $$$”
“I recently lost billions of dollars but I bounced back big-league and now I'm better than ever and I'm having more fun than ever” - man good for you I bet your company collapsing didn't result in any redundancies at all but hey at least you got to meet Larry King!!
(also he's clearly saying big-league back in 2004)
I don't have much to say about the actual contestants because they're all just like “name, hometown, qualifications, current job” but shout-out to the guy who got an MD and then went “man what am I gonna do with this? HELP PATIENTS???” and got an MBA instead. Shout-out for being just trash. Awful.
They all show up and meet “The Donald” and he's like “I'm fucking rich, you guys wanna get rich??”
Then he says “Women have it harder in the workplace, or so they say”
they sure as fuck do when they're within 5 miles of you, pussygrabber
He divides them up into two teams of eight, men and women, and then he fucks off
They all get taken up to this fancy-ass suite in Trump Tower where there's legitimately caviar and champagne everywhere
He explains to the camera that if you do good each episode you go back to the suite and if you do bad he FIRES you and you go home
“It's the suite or the street” mate these people all have jobs sorry you're not making anyone homeless today
He leaves letters lying around like he's a fucking murderer in a Agatha Christie novel and they're like “enjoy all this fucking caviar, now name your companies”
The men go with Versacorp because they're versatile and also unoriginal
The women go with Protege which is substantially better but I almost miss it because one of the first suggestions is “Donald's Darlings” and I'm obliged to spend like the next century puking into a bucket
So they show up next day at the NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE which for businesspeople is like going to fucking Disneyland, every time they say the name you can practically hear the airhorns and smell the orgasms
They all show up fancy-ass and he stands on a platform and he goes like “hey guys you're gonna sell fucking lemonade”
Then he opens the New York Stock Exchange and everything goes crazy and I guess the subtext is “Donald Trump controls the economy of New York” but I was too busy being fucking stoked we were in the FUCKING NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE to care about subtext cause that shit is for squares
Men run out and they just basically run to the harbour, go to a guy who sells lemonade, go “hey we'll sell your lemonade and give you a percentage of the take, just give us like literally all the supplies” and presumably the guy goes “sure as long as my store's name appears in the TV show you're filming because there's no FUCKING way I'd do this otherwise” and boom they're in shitty business
The women split up to buy supplies and then manage to get lost and there's a lot of passive-aggression about the whole thing
Meanwhile the guys are by the sea but not like on a beach just like on the world's shittest harbour. They're next to a fish market. This one dude is like running at people with a fucking sign and hassling people to buy this lemonade and jumping in front of bikes and everyone's like “man why is this dude like this he's got an MD for fuck's sake”
Donald Trump is in a fucking HELICOPTER and on his phone like “yeah look at these fucking pricks they're next to a fish market. I gotta go” and then hangs up the phone to sit there and just like revel in the fact he's in a chopper for no reason
like you know what good businesspeople don't do? take goddamn helicopter rides around the city to observe people who are already being observed
meanwhile the girls are in a decent location selling lemonade $5 a glass and this aired in 2004 so that's like $250 today. their observer guy is like “I wouldn't pay that for lemonade unless it's being served by a pretty girl. $1 for the lemonade $4 for the girl” and eww just eww
like legit this one girl is being like “aww thank you” and then kissing them on the cheek like just sell the goddamn lemonades
the guys relocate to somewhere else that looks like monumentally unpopulated and continue making fuck all
most of them are just tryna make the best of a bad job but this one guy just goes full-on quirk and like
first he like pressgangs a woman into trying to sell lemonade? because she's hot. and she's pretty obviously uncomfortable and the dude she's “trying” to sell to is like “what the fuck”
then he spends 20 minutes trying to sell a glass of lemonade for a thousand dollars
“Donald'll be impressed if I sell a glass of lemonade for a thousand dollars”
...
1. Donald hasn't been impressed by anything except himself and his bank account ever. You take a bullet for him on Monday I guarantee he's forgotten your name by Wednesday.
2. If the task was “run 100m” and you spend the time trying to learn to teleport because “Donald'll be impressed if I teleport instead” yeah but it's NOT GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN
Shout to to this one guy who's like “I gotta buy it because you tried so hard” like fucking get shit on, business people running around Manhattan in the early evening trying to sell lemonade. The man on the street sees you and he pities you.
Next day they all go back to Trump Tower *airhorn noises * and Trump walks into the meeting like “I'm very busy today so we gotta go quickly” because good businesspeople know you gotta make your subordinates feel like shit each and every day
So the men doubled their money and the women quadrupled it so it sounds like they both did pretty fucking good, game over I guess
wait no the men are shit
the women's prize is “you get to see the nicest apartment in New York, my apartment, be there at 1 o'clock” and oh god I hope he means pm.
“guys they killed you, they gave you a good beating, so you're not gonna be seeing my apartment” OH SHIIIIIIIIIT
then it cuts to the women going up to his apartment and like you've probably seen photos but like. it's gold. fucking everything is gold. it's got a nice view and they're all gasping about how beautiful it is but you take it from me – this is a shitty apartment. the men are in the suite downstairs washing dishes and I'd rather be there than stuck in a room that looks like Midas came in and just touched everything
Then Melania comes in and it is astonishing how clearly she does not want to be there
“How do you clean a house like this?” “Well we have people for that” *rich white person laughter *
Should have just said “I fucking just pour yellow paint over it, what he's gonna do, notice?”
They all agree she's very lucky and she's like “what is he not lucky?” and good for you Melania, he IS the lucky one because he married someone who isn't gonna spend the next decade trying to tell the world an American was born in Kenya which is more than I can say for you
Cut to The Donald walking into the apartment with porn music playing
“It's nice to see him being more personable” yeah it really humanizes the businessman to know he comes home to an ugly gold house
the whole scene is capped by a woman going “oh this is so rich, this is really rich” like this scene could have been replaced by the words “I HAVE LOTS OF MONEY AND MY GIRLFRIEND'S A MODEL” flashing on the screen for a few minutes. in gold.
honestly just murder me
meanwhile the guys are fretting about who's gonna be FIYAH'D
“I'm a good debater but I know Donald can outdebate me” oh believe me I've spent 4 and a half hours watching him debate, he can't. let's just say he knows how to pronounce the word “wrong” and leave it there
The guy who tried to sell lemonade for a thousand dollars is making up a pros-and-cons list for the other people on his team and it's kind of adorable
“He's just lovable guy with great laughter and smarts” fuck I'm getting business cards with that printed on there and nothing else
The guy with an MD is a goddamn idiot
He was bragging before the meeting like “I can outdebate anyone”
he gets asked if he would have won if he was in charge, easiest question in the world, yes
“I don't think so, sales aren't my forte”
...
...
this is literally a show about selling stuff
if he gets fired I hope his exit interview is him going “oh shit I'm sorry I thought this was Big Brother the whole time”
Trump's lecturing someone on manners, no further comment needed
The leader just got accused of being a bad leader because he listened to some ideas but not others
(unrelated but if I hear the word “leader” one more time I'm not accountable for my actions)
$1000 Lemonade Man has been thrown under the bus, he's standing up complimenting Trump's parents
by NAME
everyone else has got shit-eating grins like “well I'm safe”
the final three up for firing are the captain, $1000 Lemonade Man and The Doctor Who Just Admitted To A Businessman That He's Shit At Business
$1000 Lemonade Man just stood up to make a point, Donald was like “sit down” and he was like “thank you” and sat down like I feel like I just watched a display of dominance
The doctor got fired
His exit interview was “I take solace in the fact that I have a higher IQ than the other 17 people in that room” (fuck you)
“Just goes to show there's no correlation between IQ and success (correct) in lemonade sales *smirk * (fuck youuuu)
17 other people may not be qualified as doctors (and may all be kinda shitty people in their own right) but they had the common sense to not admit to being shitty at business or to jump in front of a cyclist to try and sell lemonade
fuck you
Alright so here's my analysis of The Apprentice's Effect on the Election of Donald J Trump
the message of the show, more than anything about business or leadership or teamwork, was that Donald Trump is a rich and powerful man. Everything else is just buttressing on that. I think if you appear on a show in such a powerful position and you judge people and your word is basically law then that gets to people on a subconscious level because your fuckups aren't making it onscreen. You're not fallible. You're judge jury and executioner and your catchphrase is literally about removing power from other people. I wouldn't go so far to say that 2016 was foreshadowed back then but given how obviously the show is designed to elevate the man to demi-god status...well.
I think it may have also helped elect him because he comes off as a bastard but by God compared to the contestants he comes off brilliantly
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Shade the Changing Girl #8
Who brought the young girl to a velociraptor fight?
• Marge Sausage was apparently only doing the art for one issue. Now I'm really going to have to dig deep to find anything positive to say about this comic book.
• Oh wait! I know one. It has a female lead. Boom! Worth reading. Also she's a person of color. Can you refer to alien bird species who love to fuck as a POC? I'm probably a white guy in his mid forties, so I don't know anything about saying the correct thing. I mean, I thought I knew how to be a generally kind person and then I found out, online, that I was actually gross and problematic. At least now I know how all the gay kids felt in 80's high schools when they heard people calling terrible things gay! Because now every aspect of me that I never actually think about unless I'm filling out a census form is the new way to call something gay! I imagine it would hurt if I wasn't already full of self-confidence due not to my circumstances of birth but to my being so objectively awesome.
No it isn't! That's the definition of dying in a way that will cause people talking about it to have to bite their tongue before they completely blame the victim!
• You know what's wrong with this country? We've become too afraid to blame the victim! Sometimes blaming the victim is really important. Like when somebody crosses the street at night and in the raing while wearing dark clothing which causes them to be hit by a car and killed. In that instance, we need to blame the victim as hard as we can! It's not like it was the driver's fault in that situation! It's not like it was an accident that couldn't be avoided! The victim's death was due entirely to the victim's poor choices. And by refusing to blame the victim, we obfuscate the reason the victim died and dance around the real danger. By not blaming the victim, we discuss things like the speed limit on the road and the lack of a crosswalk and the need for drivers to be more aware of things they couldn't possibly see in time to stop because who could have guessed that person would suddenly be on the hood of their car when the driver was blinded by oncoming headlights and the heavy rain and the darkness of the stupid sun not being in the dumb old sky! None of those things would prevent the death of a person who treats reality as if there are respawn points!
• Obviously there are times when we shouldn't blame the victim. Stop taking something I wrote and deciding I'm a monster because you have no reading comprehension! Maybe you're the gross and problematic one in this situation! You ever think of that?!
• You know what? I bet you Internet Scolds think of that all the fucking time. I bet you're constantly thinking that. I can't imagine being part of a community of people who are obsessively looking for a flaw (or a perceived flaw through a purposeful misunderstanding) in any of the people in their community so they can out them and receive praise for being so fucking perceptive and righteous and noble! Anybody can look at a huge fucking jerk and point out why the person is a huge fucking jerk. But not everybody can look at their best friend who is supposedly just as socially just as they are and tear their fucking heart out when they make a misstep. It must be so stressful to be a young person in this day and age. You can't make one mistake — NOT ONE FUCKING MISTAKE — before your life is ruined and you have to change your Tumblr URL. Man, I'm glad I don't give a shit what anybody thinks of me!
• I think this commentary is getting away from me! I've only read two Narration Boxes on the first page so far! Excuse me while I discuss this problem with my brain.
My Super-Ego: "Hey. Get back on track, you secretive monster! You're fucking making us look bad! People are going to read this shit and determine we're gross. GROSS! That's the worst thing you can be on the Internet!"
My Id: "Go fuck yourself! Masturbating!"
My Ego: "Ugh. Again? What the fuck is wrong with me? Don't worry about Id, Super-Ego. I've got this! I can get this train back on the rails!"
My Super-Eggo: "L'eggo me!"
My Super-Ego: "Knock it off, Id! I know that was you pretending to be a version of me. That is wrong. You can't do that."
My Ego: "Look, I think I've got Id back in the closet, okay? I can deal with this. Just let me handle things from here."
My Super-Ego: "Why the fuck should I trust you? That Id fucker pulls your strings and you know it! You need to stop listening to his obscene whispers and fall in line. Do you want to die homeless in a Seattle gutter? Do you want to fling yourself off the Fremont Bridge in a state of manic energy? Do you want to be known as the neighbor who sometimes kicks around a soccer ball in the middle of the street without any pants? Then get a fucking grip and start following my orders!"
• Okay! I'm back! Let's get this shit done so I can go do some keepie-uppie!
• The destination Shade has not chosen because she didn't do any research before traveling and just hopped on any old fucking train that pulled up at the station is Gotham City. See? Blame the fucking victim! She deserves to be gassed by The Joker at this point!
• Luckily for Shade, she's looking for danger. She just ditched the only friends she made on Earth and is in a state of self-destructive self-pity! No better place for that than Gotham City! Or that house on Ash Tree Lane. That place is a sublime location for losing oneself in their own doubts and self-hatreds.
Me. And me!
• Shade spends multiple pages doing touristy stuff that I think is some kind of essay on cities and the people who live there? Maybe something about how the people of Earth are meant to be but ultimately fail to live up to their ideals? Or maybe just a fun romp through Gotham? I seem to have lost interest after all that digressive writing I did!
• Shade wanders about having pseudo-profound thoughts about life and cities and art and relationships and dinosaurs until she comes to a theater where the Sonic Booms are playing. Apparently she remembers a version of them from the old television show Life With Honey. So she rushes in to be thoroughly disappointed. Or completely uplifted? Really, it could go either way. Although since she's experiencing music and Young Animal is basically DC's hipster brand, I'm pretty sure music will be treated as a religious and transcendental experience next issue.
#Shade the Changing Girl#Young Animal#DC Comics#Cecil Castellucci#Marley Zarcone#Ande Parks#Kelly Fitzpatrick
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vanderpump rules, season five, episode twenty: i’m so sorry, lauryn hill. i’m so sorry for what i did to you in this recap.
Y’all, we’ve reached the penultimate episode of this season of Serious Conversations Next To A Dumpster, also known as Vanderpump Rules.
We’re still at Twenty Mile House, where Katie and Tom1 are going over placements for the wedding. Of course there will be a taco bar at the rehearsal dinner - it’s Taco Tuesday, because these adults are getting married on a Wednesday. Katie’s in great spirits because she had a little bit of an edible that morning, which makes everyone more tolerable. Tom’s mother shows up and of course, they take a shot of Fireball. I wonder if my mom has ever had Fireball. I doubt this.
Jax is back at the house freaking out because, in case you forgot, the Schwartz Triplets missed their flight, and there’s no way of reaching Tom Sandoval, who has been left with the responsibility of handling their itinerary. Why is only one person handling this itnerary? When I go on a trip, I send info to my mom, to my boyfriend, to my cousin, to my neighbor. Everyone knows where i’m going to be. I know it’s a surprise, but write it on a scroll in Latin so 87 year old Jax will be able to read it, and it’ll be fine. Jax spends 20 years trying to come up with the phrase “Anything worse”. I have nothing else to say.
Tom Schwartz is in a good mood, Brittany’s in a good mood, everyone’s drinking and in a great mood! You know who’s not in a good mood. Fucking Shay. Not that I blame him, spending time with people you don’t want to be around - especially when you’re sober and they’re constantly doing drugs and drinking - would make anyone miserable. Add an unhappy, rushed marriage to a woman whose face changes every five minutes and a camera crew, and I DO NOT BLAME SHAY FOR COPPING A ‘TUDE. Scheana pretends she doesn’t realize why Shay wouldn’t be happy to be there and tries to remain enthusiastic, but Shay does the Amanda Mitchell Anger Special and becomes monosyllabic2.
The Gang™’s going tubing, and this is the only time I’ve ever been jealous of these people. We get a scene of people being like “Oh, we may have drama, but we still love each other!!!!!!” And shaky camera angles because they put the cameras on the tubes. I’m nauseated, and for a normal reason, not just a “Watching This Show” Reason. And then My Favorite Person Tom Sandoval arrives, with 50 cases of Coors and 10 packs of Blue Moon, and he is forgiven for missing his flight. Schwartz is in bliss - rolling peacefully down the lake in a giant pink flamingo, and we find out that the Triplets Schwartz are still on their way, albeit later than expected - they’ll still get there in time for dinner, hopefully.
Lisa and Ken and Giggy arrive at the wedding location for the rehearsal, and Lisa describes it as “So Katie,” as a train goes by and loudly toots its horn. This is correct: Katie is much like a train, loud and disturbing everything in its way, and sometimes homeless people stowaway in it3. Lisa’s nervous to officiate the wedding, and of course, Tom & Katie haven’t given her any kind of direction as to what to do. Lisa, it happens. These people don’t care about the actual act of getting married, they care about having a big fancy party. The best and worst part is that Lisa’s speech is perfect. I’m so sad she’s using it on these two, really.
The Gang™ all arrives to the location - Ariana with beer in hand - and we mostly are treated to a sweet moment of Tom Sandoval talking about his relationship with Tom Schwartz - he was there when he brought Katie home, he got choked up when he saw the venue - and again. I love Tom Sandoval. He’s the best. We don’t actually see them rehearse, they just head to the rehearsal dinner for tacos. Katie’s wearing the best outfit she’s worn all season and actually seems tolerable. It’s shocking. We also get glimpses of her family, and damn, do they all look related.
Jax has a crush on Tom Schwartz’s mom, because of course he does. Stassi hopes that Katie and Tom mention her in their vows, because they’ve had a great tenure as friends. We’re treated to a brilliant montage of Katie and Tom vs. Stassi. Tom Schwartz, who couldn’t afford to fly his brothers out or get a train ticket for his dad, got his mom a white gold and diamond ring. It’s gorgeous, but what? Speaking of moms, Stassi’s telling hers about the new guy she’s seeing, and apparently he went down on her a bunch of times their first date and she cried twice. There are some things even I know not to talk to my mom about.
THE TRIPLETS HAVE ARRIVED. If you didn’t know that I love Tom Sandoval, I love Tom Sandoval - he’s brought outfits for the triplets - Bert, Brandon, and Billy - to wear to both the wedding rehearsal and the wedding itself, because HE IS THE BEST. He wants them to look fly for their brother. And they do look good! I mean, in that very Florida “refuses to tuck his shirt in all we wanna do is crush beers” kind of way, ya know? Tom and Jax escort Schwartz over, and his brothers come out, one by one.
It’s an amazing wedding gift.
Why am I crying.
WHY AM I CRYING?!
Jax’s goal was to get Tom to cry. I hope he doesn’t get bonus tears just because he got a girl who cries at diaper commercials to cry, too.
Back at the rehearsal, everyone - except Shay, who is laying beneath pillows in his room - is commisserating and enjoying themselves. Stassi and Lisa finally have a conversation wherein which Lisa admits that she’s basically harsh to Stassi because she had so much love and respect for her. It’s nice to see this, finally - Stassi finally gets a bit of closure and we get a bit of humanity from Lisa Vanderpump.
Meanwhile, Lisa Vanderpump is equating hitting a pinata to animal abuse4, and talking to Scheana about her failing marriage. Then again, Scheana still claims things are “amazing” between the two of thim, his music is amazing, everything is amazing. She’s lying. Lisa doesn’t believe her because Shay’s never around. But Scheana’s all smiley and irritating. Sure. Scheana and Shay are Marnie and Desi from Girls, but IRL.
The guys burst open the pinata - there’s Laffy Taffys in there and I immediately went on Amazon and ordered a tub of Laffy Taffy5 - and Katie, the most likeable and relaxed we’ve seen her ever, goes to have a chat with Lisa Vanderpump. She’s hoping the next day goes perfectly, and then Tom Schwartz comes over and they pretend like they’re happy yet again. Lisa’s thankful as hell she’s not in her early 30s anymore, because she’s happy with her life and her experiences and she wouldn’t change a damn thing. And again, it’s hard not to be inspired by Lisa and Ken, who have been married since the dawn of time.
Schwartz and Katie are feeling in love and happy to be getting married. I get this. Sure. But again - a marriage that starts from a proposal given out of an ultimatum isn’t built to last.
We’ll see, I suppose.
The day of the wedding, everyone’s hungover, and Stassi’s crying tears of happiness. The guys are going flyfishing, a sport I don’t understand the point of. There’s plenty of “rod” and “snake” jokes, and Jax wishes they were playing Russian Roulette - Jax, I’m pretty sure whatever woman you end up marrying will play that on her wedding day. Schwartz, of course, hasn’t written his vows. He’s going fishing instead of writing his wedding vows the morning of his wedding. Why are you getting married, Tom?!?!?!?!?!? I mean, let’s be real - his vows are going to be this for two minutes:
“But buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuubbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...”
And then they’ll get married. He asks if he can read it off of his phone, because he’s a god damn mess.
Back in the hotel room, Lisa is actually doing some form of housework. She’s ironing, and even Ken is shocked. Lisa reminds us that the reason why she looks like she has it all is because she can hire people to make it look like she has it all. I want Lisa’s life. I would be the BEST rich person. I got a phat paycheck last month and was responsible - put half of it away, and the rest of it lasted me six weeks. CHECK OUT THAT MISERLINESS. CHECK ME OUT. I’LL SHOW YOU RESPONSIBILITY.
Back at the house, the ladies are getting ready - mostly Stassi is not ging to rehearse her speech, and neither is Katie, which is a bad idea for the both of them. We’ve seen the both of them try stand up - Katie needs a few rehearsals, if I must say so. I cringe every single time Kristen inserts herself as Katie’s Maid of Honor, this wedding makes her so strangely happy and I hate it. I’m not saying it’s not okay to be happy for your friend on their wedding day, but she seems so desperate to have a title that she hasn’t been given. Katie’s mom arrives and gives her a ring box that says “Listen to the messages your heart sends you”, and her mom says that she’s always told Katie to listen to her heart when she was upset about things. And sure, that’s good advice, but Katie took that so seriously to the point where she’s always correct because she feels correct, regardless of facts or other people’s feelings. If Katie feels it in her heart to be true, then it must be true. Even when she’s wrong.
Jax is parenting the hell out of the Triplets Schwartz, making sure they’re wearing clean socks and their ties are pressed for their wedding day. Tom Schwartz just went swimming in a lake and isn’t showering the day of his wedding. I am barfing, and I am so upset on Katie’s behalf. If you can’t be bothered to shower on the day of your wedding, what does that say about the rest of your life, dude?! How you gonna win when you ain’t right within (your clothing, that is, you smelly bastard)?6 Tom Sandoval has a Mary Poppins bag of clothing - extra ties, extra jackets, extra cufflinks, hardcore hairspray, extra socks - I would love to be best friends with Tom Sandoval. You would always be looking fly as hell.
Schwartz still hasn’t written his vows. 20 minutes to the ceremony. He got distracted by a bee.
Lisa Vanderpump arrives looking like she just came from Night of 1000 Stevies and doing a Stevie Nicks impression and basically tries to take credit for all the decisions Katie made in the wedding. She suggested a lot. Of course Katie has a brooch bouquet. Again, her wedding is a fucking Pinterest nightmare. Her dress has boning added, and that boning is stabbing Katie in the side. Tom’s forest green suit shockingly isn’t as hideous as I thought it would be, but...
I can’t stand Katie’s wedding dress.
Brian Moylan has a pretty apt and beautiful description of it, but all I have to say is this: it looks like the skin that comes off of a snake got in a fight with a doily. It’s really not flattering, and for $15,000, you can do better. As an admitted hardcore lover of all editions of Say Yes To The Dress, I know Kleinfeld has a better dress. I am never a fan of making fun of a bride’s choice in brida-
I was going to lie there. If I think your dress is ugly, I’m going to send pictures of it to my friends and giggle about it. I’m the worst kind of person. But again, if it makes you feel beautiful, do you. Don’t let my shitty opinion stop you. Good for you - but not for me.
I do like her choice in veil, though.
Katie and Tom head into their Wednesday evening wedding - everyone looks amazing, truthfully, especially Ariana, who is crushing her tuxedo - and everyone rises for the entrance of the bride.
Tom Schwartz is crying.
Here we go.
Random Thoughts from the Desk of Amanda:
Stassi’s pupils are HUGE this entire episode.
Level 32 Hairspray sounds like a level in a musical theatre video game I would love to play.
I’m sad this season is almost over. It’s been such a lovely mess.
Who is singlehandedly wearing one of the UGLIEST outfits I’ve ever seen on an adult man, so he and Katie clearly deserve each other. ↩︎
It basically involves saying as few words as possible with the most monotone voice ever because you’re on the brink of anger. This is when you tread lightly. ↩︎
Sometimes jokes just write themselves. ↩︎
That’s a fucking LEAP, Lisa. ↩︎
I seriously have a candy problem. ↩︎
Lauryn Hill would hate me for using this line in reference to white people. Sorry, Lauryn. ↩︎
#vanderpump rules#kleinfeld#why did i talk about girls#i never talk about girls#recap#reality tv recap#DOO WOP THAT THAAAAAANG
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