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offtopicoverload · 4 years

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Howdy there!! Who are the li’s you fancy the most from LITG??

hi! thanks for the ask!

i honestly dunno who’s my top answer, cuz they’re all interesting in their own way

I’m only going to talk about female LIs cuz the only male routes I’ve finished are Bobby and Jake, and I tapped through most of Jake and only ended with Bobby on my first run cuz I never unlocked Marisol, so I’m not the best source lol

Talia:

She’s just so chill but has no problem standing up for MC, she has her back no matter what

Which, like, what a queen

She’s the original and only one of 4 LIs, which maybe it’s just me, but for a game based on an incredibly heteronormative reality show, allowing representation for queer audiences from launch is such a big deal and so cool to me, so Talia’s kind of special in my mind

She was also my first LI so nostalgia points

And she’s such an easy LI, not much drama on her route outside of Lucy, just her having MC’s back as the boys make themselves look like idiots

And she has so much potential, like I know some people think her only personality trait is fancying MC, which I mean, is a little fair, but there’s so many opportunities for her in fics and headcanons to develop the good amount of information we got on her in 13 days

I absolutely love how self-aware and confident she is

She just went for what she wanted, struggled a bit with commitment at first, because who wouldn’t, but after that it was smooth sailing

Like obviously what she said in the Beach Hut at the beginning of the season wasn’t great for MC, but she knew exactly what she wanted out of her time on the show

She was confident in herself and her sexuality so much so that she was just down to have a fling with a girl and not worry about how it would effect the show

And then she *coupled up* with that same girl, not even giving a shit about the rules or anything

A queen

Allegra:

I know she’s not an official LI, but her arc is what got me into writing so she gets a million points for that

I love what could have been done with her progression if she was given an actual route, I’m a sucker for some good enemies to lovers, but alas, she’s canonically a bad bitch with a lot of internalised homophobia yet enough confidence to ask MC out

I still love her

Marisol:

I know so many people hate her, and I get it, but I do really like her growth

Maybe it’s cuz I’m pretty analytical too, but her analyses never bothered me or anything, and now that I’ve played her route so many times, it’s pretty obvious that that’s a defense mechanism, and I understand that

She very much so has a “figure their weaknesses out before they have a chance to figure mine out” attitude, and I’m 99% positive it’s because of the ex that Elisa reminded her of

So not only has she been burned in the past, I’m willing to bet it was by the only woman she’s been in a serious relationship with

I really have no problem with her commitment issues, it’s understandable, and I can really empathise with her fear of coming out, it’s absolutely terrifying even if you’ve accepted it and bought a flag, saying the words can be really difficult

My biggest issue is her entitlement and immaturity, I guess?

Like her using Graham to make MC jealous just feels like an excuse to crack on with him and still have MC available for when she’s ready

I understand her being scared to couple up, but playing games to distract herself just made things with MC worse

And unless youre on her route, and sometimes even when you are, it’s clear to me that she expects things and has no problem saying what they are, but going after them is a problem?

Like her going after Lurik even though they don’t have a connection, or Gary even when he’s with Hannah

But then it never works and she gets sad and I melt because I’m weak

ALSO, can I just say how awful it is that Lucas and Henrik don’t pick her unless they have to???

Like cmon she deserves MC after that

And when they finally couple up? And she’s all soft? The GROWTH ohmygod

Anyway I love who Marisol became, maybe not everything she started out as, but definitely the person she ended the season as, more confident and self assured and willing to be vulnerable

It’s precious

Elisa:

I still haven’t done an Elisa route

I tried to a couple months ago, but dumping Marisol felt so cruel, what the hell was Fusebox thinking with that??

I do really like that they learned from their mistake though, even if they went in the opposite direction

From what I’ve seen of Elisa, she can be pretty sweet, I’ve seen her described as a Lucas-Bobby hybrid, and while that’s not the most interesting personality to me, I will say that she’s a really cool character that FB messed up on

Why did they make her a straight up villain???

And why ONLY her???

None of the other female LIs have been villains or had such a complete 180

Like her going from shouting at Chelsea, who is literally meant to be MC’s ride or die and the person outside of your LI that youre supposed to want to defend and avenge, to “i cant even sleep because im pining so hard”

I know the treatment of black women has been discussed before, specifically in regards to Hope and Erikah, and it is by no means my place to speak on it, but I definitely think something’s going on with Elisa

Anywayyyy, I love her archetype

The celebrity and influencer has so much potential, to the point that I wrote a one shot without even knowing her lmao

And she’s so confident in a way that’s so different from Marisol

She doesn’t even care if MC’s happily coupled up, she WILL get in her pants and I respect that

In conclusion, Fusebox did her dirty and I’m probably going to try and retcon some canon for her in the future

Lottie:

Ohmygod

Lottie

A goth babe

Lottie

Yeah, anyway, so I love her

Her growth is just unbeatable in my opinion

Yeah, she still has her flaws by the end of the season, but she went from ready to rip everyone’s throat out to biting her tongue around Hannah

And her and MC???

And the development between them???

Ugh

No matter what way you swing it, you’ve either got best friends to lovers or enemies to lovers and I adore both

And her aesthetic is one of my favourites, I’m alt myself and having a character like that is just so cool

My Runaways MC is a ball of sunshine with some hidden darkness specifically because Lottie’s such a dark cloud but can start shining with the right person, and that’s my absolute favourite trope

But man were the wedding episodes a cop out

Why couldn’t they give her the Noah treatment? Or the single treatment? Where they just get together after the show? Same with Hannah, why are they giving such an intense confession after who knows how long of literally nothing, like no communication even????

Don’t get me wrong, I kinda simultaneously love it for the angst and yearning, but it just… makes no sense?

So yeah, amazing bat lady that I seriously vibe with and wish my MC could have wifed up

Hannah:

I know this is a little controversial buuuut

I fucking love Hannah

But only OGHannah, Returning Hannah was butchered and I will never let that go

And it was such a toxic message too, that she needed to change herself and her appearance just to get a guy to like her?

Fuck that, Original Hannah was amazing and perfect exactly as she was

I love her trope, too, the naivety and how obvious and clear it was that she’s still learning about the world and relationships, to the point that it’s going to get her in trouble

And her obsession with fairy tales?

Fucking adorable ohmygod

I started a fic a while ago that I think I’m gonna scrap, that just indulged in the fairy tale metaphors and stuff because I just love how cute it is lmao

If she wasn’t dumped, I think she could have had amazing growth alongside Lottie, and their friendship/kinda, probably, most-definitely-if-MC’s-not-there-more-than-a-friendship growing together would have been so good

In an alternate reality Hope was dumped instead, and that helps me sleep at night

I firmly stand by the fact that Noah should have been the deciding factor between Hope and Hannah/MC, where Lottie said something that screwed with his head earlier in the day to make sure her friends were safe

Noah should have saved Hannah/MC and Hope should have returned with Rocco, hellbent on revenge and proving herself

That would have been so good for Noah stans and such good drama, that actually made perfect sense

Hope was fully expecting that she’d get picked by Noah because they’d spent three days attached at the hip and then to just… not have that happen. It would have driven her insane and if there was then a scene with MC where she just like, gives up

Like she’s spent the past two days grafting Noah but he won’t make up his mind and she’s just done and MC can comfort her or fight with her and you just get to humanize her make her vulnerable and hurting and I fucking WISH they did something like that, even for RHannah

And Hannah’s growth in the Villa would have been so amazing

I think her idea of a perfect guy is definitely too much, and I’m not advocating that she settles by any means, just that she could have learned that there are things more important than money

That conversation on day 1 where you choose between money, kindness, and intelligence still baffles me

Like why are you a gold digger Hannah?!?!

Why don’t you just want a Prince/ss Charming???

Her and Hope should have swapped and I don’t understand why they weren’t

I mean, I do really like Hope, but Hannah’s just so cute and has so much to learn and her struggling in the Villa just to have a lightbulb moment with MC would have been precious and now I want to write it dammit

Anyway, Hannah is adorable and had so much potential and she never should have returned if they were just going to scrap everything that made her Hannah, except for snooty literature

I wanna listen to her rattle on about Belle and Mulan and every other Disney Princess and what they meant for representation and progress in media and then compare them to their original stories like a dweeb and I would have melted on the spot

Like yes, please tell me more about how gruesome Cinderella is

She should have shown up at the finale and hugged MC and been innocent and sweet so I could have just lost my shit for like a half hour

But stan OGHannah, burn RHannah

AJ:

Adorable, precious, denied an arc outside of coming out

I am not exaggerating when I say that I cried at 4:30 in the morning at her blushing face when playing the first two days

It’s just so fucking cute and I’m a sap and I don’t know why it made me cry, but it did okay?!

And her coming out was such good representation!!! By far the best thing in Boat Party, and I’m so proud of the progress FB’s made in queer representation at the very least

I know she’s pretty one dimensional, but most of S3 is unfortunately

Her being available right off the bat was also such a win, I’m positive it’s the reason she had so many stans

If her and Yasmin had switched or her and Lily, they would have been the ones that were dominating Reddit polls and stuff

And I know she’s written as masc but I just can’t really see it? Like I can’t see her in a dress, but outside of a few clothing items, I guess I just can’t see it? Maybe androgynous is more the word for my image of her, like definitely a mix

She’ll wear a skirt under the right circumstances, but never a dress, a crop top with a flannel, her prom outfit that’s like a frilly jumpsuit, stuff like that? idk im not a lesbian

Her route for me was so glitchy, but I know that if MC’s stolen from her by Yasmin, Tai, or Ciaran, she has some really cute scenes and I wish I could have seen them

And I know some people were ragging on her for the eyelash at the end of the scene but I thought that was just a perfect callback - maybe it’s the writer in me

Basically, AJ’s adorable and why did Ciaran have to split her and MC up, not cool dude

Yasmin:

I forgot I was doing a Yasmin route a while ago, but from what I’ve seen and played, she’s really sweet

I hate that she’s almost nonexistent outside of her route

Give us a mysterious musician friend, you cowards!

I saw that she sings to MC on the final date and damn is that cute

Her eyeshadow kinda throws me off, but her stuffed animal makes up for it

And I’m salty that Yasmin the Lamb disappeared too, that was such a nice detail that made me start a Yasmin route

She’s distant and self-assured, but has a soft, gooey, nostalgic center and I wish we saw more of that, even if we weren’t on her route

My final thoughts on Yasmin: An artsy indie icon that I really need to stop getting distracted from and finish her route

Lily:

Again, don’t know much about her, but she seems really cool

Her shaving her head between the finale and Boat Party is such a flex and I wish she did it right before Boat Party so we could see her in all her bald glory

She’s into cars, right? And… architecture?

Idk, I barely remember my own name, let alone a 10 minute date from months ago

But I’ll definitely get around to doing her route at some point, maybe just to write for her, we’ll see

Elladine:

I know she’s not an LI, but MC so should have been able to run away with her

I missed that option in S3

I kinda get why they didn’t do that, but Boat Party’s just so messy in general

And I would include Genevieve here, but she’s so cute with Seb that I’d feel bad splitting them up

But Elladine had actual problems with Nicky!!!

Why did they mention it for it to never pay off??

And I’m so mad that the hype around her died when it was revealed she wasn’t an LI or the badass of the season, because I still adore how sweet she is

I also want to brag that before we got a name I was calling her Emma and that’s just on example of my almost psychic-ness

But yeah I wanted Ell to be a run away option and I’m salty that she wasn’t

Know what, fuck it, Viv too, she’s smart and cool as hell, let us love these awesome women FB, you cowards!!!

I have no idea who would be my number 1 based on canon, but if we’re talking hypotheticals, I think my answer, as strange as it is, is Hannah.

I just love what she could have been, but by no means what she is.

It’s so awkward to know her for three days, not see her for three weeks, then spend a couple more days with, a couple weeks at most, just for her to write a whole ass book about MC?? And tell her about it with that hair????

No thanks, I’ll stick with closeted sapphic horse girl nerd Hannah because I guess that’s somehow my type??? Oh god what the fuck I swear I’m not a total weirdo

#asks #can it kc #okay but im loving doing this they're so fun wtf #but thanks so much for the ask!!!!!#litg

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lost-in-zembla · 4 years

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Disco Elysium or: How I learned to Stop Wallowing and Love the Game

I will now review a videogame. No real spoilers. Just very vague descriptions below.

My writing this is uncharacteristic of me. I find most writing surrounding the video game industry to be repugnant. The industry (including the media surrounding that industry) relies upon the subsumption of subcultures on the fringe into the very center of the infernal machine where the dedicated and nostalgic nature of its fanbase can be exploited for capital. It’s the same process that produces Iron Man Funko Pops. Call me a jaded and pretentious pseudointellectual poseur, but in the case of Marvel the idea that this fucking billion dollar franchise with the biggest actors in the world somehow retains this guise of this ‘geek’ subculture is disturbing to me.

(If you have played the game Disco Elysium, then you can probably already see part of why I enjoy it so goddamn much.)

I don’t mean we should gatekeep. My point is the media attached to these quote-geek-unquote industries wants to milk the same cash cow (e.g. 10 AWESOME THINGS IN THE LAST OF US 2!) Coming from an academic environment of criticism, I crave at least the appearance of an honest and thorough critique of art. In my experience, you really need to go past the surface to find any reliable ‘takes’ on contemporary videogames. That being said, there’s a lot of good work being done in the form of video essays.

In any case, I play videogames relatively often. Competitive shooters, mostly. But I suffer no story in videogames. Why would I? I read the most *genius* pieces of literature in the English language. I’m too *good* for that. So when I heard all the buzz about Disco Elysium last fall, it fell on deaf ears. Detectives? Disco? Isometry? Story-heavy. Ugh. I’m interested in none of that. But about a week ago, a friend of mine bought the game. Unlike me, he is a real adult with a real job so it was just a whim on his part, I believe. I looked at the game and, with Steam’s lax refund policy in mind, I bought it. In the past week I have put approximately thirty hours into this game. This review is a way for me to explore my own thoughts surrounding the game, thoughts that I didn’t include in my steam review (See below.)

So it was devastating, sure. And this devastation was somehow positive. One thing that I would like to make clear about me talking about this game is that it is fucking useless. Disco Elysium possesses that quality that exists in all great art; it is irreducible. When I try to explain this game to my friends, I find that my words fail to describe what’s so great about the game. Let me give you the elevator review I’ve come up with. *This game has allowed me to explore the breadth of human experience*. It’s an absolutely insane thing to say about a game. The writing, the art style, the story, the world, the RPG gameplay, they all work together to create a kind of experience that I have never encountered in a piece of art before aside from those few, fleeting moments when you feel as though you truly *get* an encyclopedic novel you’re reading (and in my case I usually don’t get it.)

I will not delve too deeply into the mechanics of the game. There are probably plenty of articles and videos that describe the game already. Put simply, the game is about choices. You can choose to solve the murder however you want. You can say absolutely batshit things to people. You can say mildly bemusing things. You can speak apocalyptic prophesies, espouse communism, conservatism, Moralism. race science.. There are moments when you genuinely *feel* like you can say anything, which is quite a feat when you really only have a few dialogue options at any given moment.

As you’ve noticed, this is not a review of the videogame. Playing this game after a tough breakup was sort of earth-shattering. I mean, not only am I navigating through a strange virtual world with its own history and culture and cosmological makeup, I’m diegetically grieving over being left by my *divinely* beautiful ex while I, the player, undergo a similar process and find similar coping mechanisms. Playing this game was like knowing the funniest clown in the world, a clown so funny that you thank him when he occasionally punches you in the chest to make you *feel things*.

The plan wasn’t to make a character whose qualities reflected my own. I just wanted to play the game. I wanted to win. It just so happened that because *I* was the one playing the game, the character essentially turned into me. It doesn’t help that I, too, have had my issues with alcohol, drugs, commitment, and mental health (in no particular order). The character ended up becoming *me* in a way that I’d never experienced before. I faced ethical dilemmas. My ideology was shaken. This game achieves unbelievable mimesis.

Here’s the wild thing: this game has changed me. I feel like a thirteen-year-old white boy who just watched The Boondock Saints and got a pretty okay over-the-pants handjob at the same time. I’m thinking about my life in terms of choices. The game enforces a kind of perspective of the world that highlights its contingency and the permanence of choices. You can, of course, save your progress in the game and reload whenever, but I found myself just sort of riding out the bad choices I made unless they were game-ruiningly catastrophic. (E.g. I had a “thought” equipped that made me fail every unrepeatable *red* check during a pivotal firefight; it was a hilarious disaster. We were essentially mowed down.) I stood by most of my bad choices. After all, I made the choice using the information I had at the time.

I am not good at this game. I absolutely bungled the investigation. I was just a pawn for forces far greater than myself. Seven people died, and I know that I could’ve saved a few of those people, if not all of them. I think about it sometimes. I think about what I could have done, how I could have gone deeper to find out what’s *really* going on, how I could take control of the investigation rather than be taken control of. Maybe I’ll play the game through again, but the first playthrough is kind of magical if you know absolutely nothing about the game like I did. If not for an absolute deus ex machina at the end, I would have been taken to the madhouse. It would have been an unbelievable failure.

During that deus ex machina moment, by the way, a goddamn tear rolled down my cheek. Yeah, I’m in a rough place, personally. But I don’t *cry* over characters in art. They’re not real. But damn if that changed. I tell you it’s changed *me*. I care more for characters. I know they’re not real but they represent something that I can relate to, no matter who they are. This game has made me think about empathy more. Maybe it’s because I dumped all my points in the emotional skills. Maybe I’d be more violent if I rolled with the physical skills. Maybe I’d feel like a superstar if that’s what I chose to pursue in the game. Disco Elysium feels open-ended enough that if you sign up for the story, the aesthetic, and the investigation itself, then you can get whatever you want out of the experience. The game, again, achieves incredible mimesis.

The mimesis is so convincing in Disco Elysium that it feels as open-ended as reality, with one caveat: you *know* it's a game. You, as a player, know that the experience of Disco Elysium is a designed one, that it was created as a sort of origami structure, that there is narrative and, god help us, *meaning*. What this game-knowledge afforded me during my playthrough was the constant sensation of synchronicity. I found myself saying “I don’t know how this element will fold into the grand structure of the game, and it almost seems impossible that it should become part of the investigation narrative.” But because I know it’s a game, I am graced with the confidence of the highly religious. Everything will come together in the end.

This is not a review for a videogame. This is a confession. I am deeply flawed and I want to change that. My worldview has been shaken because of a videogame. I don’t want to be that kind of animal anymore.

I’m trying to empower myself, to become more aware that my choices do indeed matter, have always mattered. I’m trying to be more pragmatic, to consider the things I want to do in terms of their result rather than the momentary pleasure I will derive from doing them. Now *that’s* a change for me.

I’m trying to be more empathetic, more willing to imagine the perspectives of others.

I am trying to give the world around me the benefit of the doubt. It is easy for me to think of the world as a random coincidence of matter, but if you look at the world with totality in mind everything seems to take on this Spinozan glow of divinity. The human mind is a meaning-making machine, I think. If I look at the world as fundamentally devoid of meaning, then that is still meaning. It is nihil-ism. It’s still an -ism. But if I ascribe to the world a kind of glowing potential, as though meaning were to be found in every speck of matter, then I feel invited to participate in this massive dance that we’re all a part of.

I’m trying to be more adventurous, because beneath the surface of things there seems to be a vast network of relationships, causation, possibility and, god help me, *story*. Or maybe it’s not beneath the surface of things, maybe there is no Deleuzian schizophrenic depth beneath the surface, perhaps the world is a homogenous and ever-developing surface upon which I constellate meaning and, thereby, create it. I’m trying to create a story for myself that will hold a candle to my experience playing Disco Elysium. I didn’t ask for this; it was just what I needed. It was, in a word, unforgettable.

#disco elysium #criticism #game review #videogame #video games #hire me zaum #I dont want to be this kind of animal anymore #essay

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humourtalia · 5 years

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I toled my bf out of spirit that I am in love with her and she was cool with it, but it kinda hurts me seeing her u know? Like, she straight and all so she'll never return my feelings, and at first I thought that was ok with me, but everytime I even just think of her I wanna cry and like, it's cliché but my heart feels so heavy and my stomach hurting and stuff, and I thought I will eventually stop loving her but it's been like over a year and I don't know what to do. Her being hot isn't helping.

Heartbreak is raw. It’s also super cliche. It’s why all the sad literature about romance sounds poetic and pathetic at the same time. It hurts, but it’s the sort of hurt you can get over. At least that’s the plan. It’s kind of more complicated than that. I wish I could wave a magic wand and snap you out of it, but alas. What I can do is potentially offer advice.

When my ex unceremoniously dumped my poor gay ass, I was a mess. But we did not see each other for months after that. We avoided each other, and that helped so much. If you’re still friends with this girl, if you’re still seeing her often, it’s going to make it hard to fall out of love. If she can understand your feelings, hopefully she can understand the need for some space. You might’ve already tried that, in which case I am sorry, but if not, do it. It might be a struggle, depending on how close you are and how much you rely on her and how much your heart wants to be around her, but you need to do it for yourself. Distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. Maybe in the beginning, but after a while, it’ll start to heal, like any wound. A broken heart is like any broken thing on your body: you need time, and rest. You need to not use it. Every time you see her, you use it. That sucks, but everything relating to love and relationships sucks.

...Actually, I might not be the best person to ask about this. Where’s Sweden when you need him?

#anon #anonymous #group theraparty

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ayearofpike · 5 years

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Falling

Tom Doherty Associates, 2007 402 pages, 24 chapters ISBN 978-0-7653-5644-4 LOC: PS3566.I486 F35 2007 OCLC: 73502344 Released March 6, 2007 (per B&N)

Matt Connor has been wronged by the girl he loves. Kelly Fienman has been wronged by the suspect she’s stalking. They’re both out for vengeance, but while Matt is upfront and honest about the stunt he plans to pull, he isn’t really honest with himself about what he actually wants to get — and for her part, Kelly pretends that her need for justice is both moral and absent. When their paths inevitably cross, they’re left with several huge questions: what is right? what is good? do these things intersect? is it OK if they don’t?

(Thanksgiving and a child’s birthday were NOT conducive to A Year of Pike, gang. Let’s see if I can pick it back up here in December.)

I remembered being really happy with this book the first time I read it. Like, OK, Pike is taking it easy on the kidlit, having maybe resigned himself to the understanding that his style no longer fits with popular expectations. Plus, this came probably three years after I’d read a recent predecessor, and a solid five years after I’d BOUGHT one — I got Alosha and The Shaktra out of the library, never read The Yanti until just now, and then I saw Falling at a bookstore sometime in 2008. I read it and I loved it: so unexpected, such power, what a shift in tone and characters, what a strong and solid cliffhanger ending — literally! Surely there exists some kind of excited blog record of me finding this, so long after I’d decided Pike wasn’t for me anymore. After spending entirely too long trawling the depths of my LiveJournal, though, I can’t find one.

And the reread? Eh. As it turned out, I didn’t actually remember very much about this book. Parts of it want to be The Silence of the Lambs (and Pike even nods to that) but it doesn’t have the same power. The rest? So much speculation and estimation left up to the reader to really understand this closed-book antagonist, who is actually quite selfish but we don’t get her perspective. She doesn’t even monologue when she has our hero at literally the end of his rope. And the powerful scene at the end? More like a trickle to a halt, made even weaker by the unnecessary intercutting to the other character’s perspective as she oversees the end of her antagonist’s life. We’ll get there. I don’t know. Maybe I was so excited to get this, and to have a book where a baby’s life and future hangs in the balance right around the same time I was raising my own baby as a new at-home parent, that I overlooked another one of Pike’s letdown endings.

I forgot to talk in the last post about the ISBN shifting to 13 digits. This started in 2007: all new books would have a code that better matched up with international book listing codes. These last two have had both an ISBN-10 and an ISBN-13, I assume because he had both of them slated prior to the change, but I’ve decided to just list the newer code for simplicity’s sake. You can do more research if you feel like it, or even convert back and forth between ISBN-10 and 13. It doesn’t really affect my blog, but it’s a change and I wanted to mention it.

So Falling. It actually could have been a pretty straightforward story, with much of the bulk of the book spent exploring the mental attitudes involved in what it takes to go beyond the law, commit some kind of horrific deed that most people couldn’t imagine. The real problem with this story is that it tries to cram too much into it, and the one crime is so vile and base that it renders our antihero’s misdeed into almost seeming unimportant. But it’s not — Matt’s actions are horrible and indefensible, especially as we don’t actually get his villain’s perspective, no matter what someone else did that was totally gross. (I am so a parent: “I don’t care what Tommy did, you are not to act that way.”)

What the hell does Matt actually do? This is where Falling is good: it keeps us in suspense for the first good quarter of the book as we try to understand his plan and how it’s going to adversely affect the girl. Because of course his object of vengeance is a girl — the one who just dumped him, actually. She didn’t “just dump him,” though; she strung him along as “the only one” while she was still in contact with her rich “ex,” who she is now married to and has an unborn child with, a child that could only have been conceived while Matt was still seeing her. And it’s not his, it can’t be his, because she never let him stick it in. So Matt is going to fake his own death by crashing a personal aircraft in the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, he will parachute to a waiting boat, anchored in a shallower area, and assume a new identity until he can carry out the second part of his plan: kidnap the baby, months later, after everyone has forgotten his involvement with the woman.

Kelly is one of the FBI agents assigned to the kidnapping case. She’s actually just back on the job after a tragic and devastating incident with a previous suspect that has taken out a good chunk of her GI system. And this is where Falling has problems: this second story, totally unrelated to and unnecessary for understanding Matt’s motivations, is clung to and pushed on us constantly through the whole book, even as it threatens to be a more engaging tale of horrific glee. Like, I get why Pike didn’t just write this one (out of concerns of being accused of ripping off Thomas Harris) but this is really TWO suspense stories, and he hasn’t properly fleshed out the tale of Kelly and the Sex Murderin’ English Teacher.

Because that’s what’s happened: three-four months before the kidnapping, she gets pulled into an investigation on a dude who has made videos of himself having extremely consensual sex with rich women, tying them to the beds, confronting them about their obvious infidelity to their rich husbands, and then killing them by pouring corrosive acid on (and then INTO) their chests. She has a Ph.D in mythology and literature, which they need because the dude is throwin’ out all sorts of esoteric references and they think that knowing them will help them track him down. Of course, Kelly has gone into FBI work because she wants to be a hero, and so she breaks like EVERY protocol in investigating the trail of these obscure Asian myths back to either Ohio State or Ohio University, depending on which page you look at. (Does Pike know there’s a difference?) All the evidence points to a doctoral student, but it’s been manipulated that way by his faculty advisor, who is doing the sex murders because he caught his wife cheating with the dude. And now he’s going to kill Kelly the same way, only he hasn’t counted on her being a totally buff FBI agent who actually MOVES THE ENTIRE BED SHE’S TIED TO and makes the acid splash on the ropes, which she can now break to get at her gun and cap the fucker in the back of the neck. Of course, the acid has also splashed on her stomach and eaten into her organs, hence the GI problems. And also her husband is pissed that she went to such crazy lengths and endangered herself, to the point where if she goes back to the FBI he’s not willing to hang around and watch her kill herself. So he moves out and takes their young daughter with him.

I KNOW. This is a WAY more fuckin’ interesting story than oh, boo hoo, she was stringing me along so I’m gonna kidnap her baby. It’s too bad that he drags this shit out and doesn’t give it more consideration. But as with so much literature, we gotta accept the tragic male antihero versus the strong female agent who is still trying to figure out the boundaries of her moral code.

Yeah, there’s still more story. Matt hires a nanny under the table to help take care of the baby, and she thinks they look alike. You hear this all the time as a parent, even if your kid looks NOTHING like you — but Matt’s curious, so he does a mail-away DNA test and it comes back unquestionably that he’s actually the father. So now he knows he can’t just bail on the kid like he was planning, but he needs money to raise him. So he sets up an intricate ransom for his ex and her husband, who has money (of course he has money; why do you think she married him?). Matt makes the dude put $3 million in cash and jewels into a bag, then chase all over metro LA until he finally ends up taking a boat out to Catalina Island. But halfway there, he instructs the husband to load the dough into a weighted box and throw it overboard. Because of course Matt is a scuba diver — this is a Pike book, after all. He retrieves the money and then uses a personal propeller to zip off underwater. And the FBI, which was so prepared for an island drop or a boat handoff, is caught with their pants all the way down.

Of course Kelly is furious, but also curious. She remembers seeing a picture of Matt in the woman’s desk, and asks about the circumstances of his death. It seems that the day Matt’s plane crashed, he had been on Catalina — finishing up his scuba certification. So now Kelly has connected the dots, in a way only a Pike heroine can, but she can’t imagine where to find the dude. But she knows someone who can: a certain Sex Murderin’ English Teacher, who is still alive but paralyzed from the neck down, who knows better than anyone Kelly knows how a twisted male mind works. He grasps the intricacies of the situation immediately and advises Kelly to follow the woman, because there’s no way she’s unaware.

Kelly doesn’t believe it, but sure enough the chick leads her directly to Matt and the baby, set up in a fancy apartment not even that far from the rich husband’s house. It seems that Matt felt like he had all the leverage he needed to get the girl back, now that he had the baby and some money. But it’s not enough — she knows that the dude isn’t ever going to let her just go, and that the only way to be totally free to be back with Matt is if they kill her husband. So Matt, against his better judgment, starts coming up with a plan to murder a dude: drive his boat to Catalina, get him super drunk, and then push him overboard on the way back. The girl, weirdly, insists that Matt has to be on board and actually do the pushing. Which makes Kelly, listening in on her bugs planted in the apartment, start to think that maybe she’s the actual monster, even though Matt has faked his own death and then kidnapped her son. So she affects her own secret identity and moves into the complex to get closer to the situation but also to try to keep Matt from doing something he’ll regret.

Matt actually has no intention of killing the husband. His plan was pretty much always to tag along on the boat and then get the girl to fake her OWN death, and then they can be free and alone and untraceable. But but but, the girl objects, if she is dead and not the husband, then she won’t be heir to all his money! But Matt flatly refuses to push the dude. So she goes ahead and does it. Unlucky for her, they’re being tailed by — who else? — Kelly the Hero, who now has enough circumstantial evidence to arrest the woman for murder. Her father-in-law bails her out of jail, raising more weird questions, and then she manages to convince Matt to help her jump bail and escape with all her worldly possessions. They make it to Utah the first night, but the ten minutes Matt runs out to buy diapers and formula is long enough for a dude to bust in and tie his girl to the bed and be looming over her with a beaker full of acid when he gets back.

Holy shit, right? By now Matt knows who Kelly is and has gotten her backstory, and he knows that she’s willing to let him slide on the whole kidnap kerfuffle, so he calls her with this weird coincidence. But there’s no way it could be SMET, who is totally paralyzed! But Kelly now fears for HIS ex-wife’s life, and flies back to Ohio to do another check on this whole twisted clan. The best thing she can think of is to do a home stakeout with the lady and her new man, the grad student she was cheating with. Only — uh-oh — turns out the dude is in cahoots with SMET the whole time! His whole life, in fact: Cheatin’ Grad Student is SMET’s little brother! Their mother was also a cheater, and died of complications from their dad pushing her down the stairs after he found out. But wait! It seems that SMET actually did the killing, replacing her cardiac epinephrine shot with vinegar, so when she seized in her hospital bed it was the attempt to save her that killed her. Please note: SMET did this as a motherfucking TEN YEAR OLD. From there, he realized the thrill of destroying loose women and employed his little brother in helping to deface and dispose of the bodies.

So it only follows that he’d employ the dude to lure his wife, and was devastated when she bit, and that has turned into more killin’. In fact, it was CGS who was in Utah the night before, on his brother’s orders, ready to take down another terrible, cheating, murdering, bail-jumping lady. But this kid is even more debased than his brother, and is just going to rape and dismember Kelly while his new bae is knocked out from drugs in her dinner. Luckily she has her own syringe of cardiac vinegar, uncovered in her prior search of the dad’s house, and she manages to stab it into CGS’s heart just in the nick of time.

What’s up with Matt and the On-the-Lam Family? No big, they’re just doing some leisurely rock climbing now that they’re free from dead rich husbands or acid murderers. This, it turns out, is Matt’s one final big test to his girl’s fidelity — and she fails big time, cutting his rope and leaving him stranded on the edge of a cliff while he’s rappelling. But Matt’s been here before, because he’s an experienced and expert rock climber (because what the FUCK ELSE can this asshole be good at), and he manages to free-climb up the side of the cliff and catch his girl as she’s packing up the car. So now it’s her turn to be stuck on a cliff ledge, until he can get to a pay phone and call the cops on her for jumping bail. And we’re all like, good god, dude, it took you fuckin’ well long enough.

Of course we can’t just be done, right? Kelly has a sex murderin’ English teacher to revenge. She makes it look like a suicide, unscrewing part of his wheelchair and scraping his wrist veins against it so he bleeds out. But before he goes, he wants to talk to Matt, because they’re not so different, and he’d like to congratulate a fellow charismatic criminal for getting away with his misdeeds. And then he dies, and Kelly swears off FBI work so that maybe she can go back to her family and actually appreciate it and be appreciated by them.

Um ... what? But yeah, that’s the end of Falling. Either one of these stories would have been better served by itself, unless he could have given us Kelly’s necessary backstory in the beginning rather than trying to make everything happen at the same time. It comes across as excessive and unnecessary, and makes the ending fall flat. And when you have a blah ending, it doesn’t matter how vibrant the characters have been, or how real and horrific their struggles, or how much you sympathized with them throughout the narrative. All you remember is the “um ... what?”

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sodoyouknowbts · 6 years

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Yoongi x Reader - Fake Love

Summary: It wasn’t as if you hated Min Yoongi, it’s just you both never quite got off on the right foot. However, after lying about your relationship to his ex, you find yourself having to play out a fake marriage with him. You slowly develop feelings for him but can’t be sure if he feels the same way, or if it’s been an act the whole time.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fake marriage! Au, romance, fluff

Author: Pilot

You slowly come to a stop at the traffic light and glance at your rear view mirror out of habit. That’s when you see it. A spider. Crawling on your rearview mirror. It’s not small either. You jump in your seat and let out a scream, accidentally pressing your foot down onto the accelerator sharply.

The car rear-ends the car in front of you. You quickly pull the hand break up, unbuckle your seat as you keep your eye on the spider taunting you from the mirror and jump out of the car. You can't stop feeling squeamish.

“Ya!” Came a gruff voice from in front of you. You pay zero attention, instead trying to check that the spider hadn’t somehow crawled onto when you had gotten out.

“Hey, you! Crazy lady jumping around! You just hit my car!”

You freeze, your arms around your body. You point at yourself and brush the hair out of your face. “Me?”

“Yes. You!”

You squint your eyes and hold your hand up to your face to block out the sunlight. Your vision clears. The man crouches down in front of your car, inspecting the damage.

He brushes his hands and stands up. He’s reasonably tall, or at least, taller than you. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, black slacks and a long black coat. He looks away from the damage done to his car. His piercing eyes bore into yours and all you can think is just how handsome he is. Then you see the scowl on his face.

“Give me your mobile and license details.” He says, simply.

You glance back at the car. Your bag is seated on the passenger seat.

“Uh…” You say, looking into the car. He senses your hesitation.

The spider has moved. You just don’t know where.

“Is that your bag?” He’s standing by your car, peering through the open door. You hear beeps behind you. A number of cars have started to form a line behind yours. The man sighs, leans past you and pushes your emergency button on and the lights of your car flash. He waves the line on past you, clearly bothered by this additional work he has to do.

“That’s your bag right? Get me your license details. I need them for the insurance.”

You nod.

Okay, here goes nothing. You think. You slowly lean in, your eyes focusing on the rear-view mirror, then the ceiling, then the hand break. You’re not quite sure where the spider has gotten to.

You reach for the bag and pull it out. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn to the man and begin to open the clasp of your bag. That’s when you see it. It’s the damn spider.

You scream, let go of the bag and jump to the stranger, grabbing him and burying your face into the stranger’s coat.

“S-spider!” You barely manage to get out. You weren’t afraid of most things, but spiders? Spiders were deal breakers.

He grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you off him.

He looks down at your bag and sees the spider scurrying away on the road. He picks up your bag and a couple of items that had spilled out, lipstick, your wallet and phone. He puts the items back inside the bag and hands it to you.

“The spider is gone.” he says. “Details?” He asks impatiently.

“Uh, sure.”

You dig around, bring out your license and hand it to him. He holds the license up next to your face. He pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a photo of you while you’re not looking.

“Number?”

You recite your number, annoyed. His attitude was beginning to get on your nerves.

“Thanks, Y/N.” he says, handing you back your license. He turns to walk away.

“Hey!” You call out to him. “Mister! I need your details for the insurance too.”

He keeps walking and waves backwards at you. “You’ll hear from me.”

He gets into his car and drives off, leaving you standing there. Dumbfounded. You scoff. What a spoilt brat. You think, noting the fancy and flash car.

***

You walk around the ice sculpture. Sure, the cake looked amazing (and delicious but you weren’t going to admit that to anyone), the flowers were beautiful and the set up was grand - but you still didn’t see why you had even been invited to Crystal’s engagement party.

You were self-proclaimed sworn enemies. To be honest, she had always bullied you throughout high school. She was lucky, coming from a wealthy family who basically paved the way for her education. You on the other hand, had to work hard for it. Because of that you had become super competitive in your own right to out-perform and out-achieve her.

You poke at one of the cupcakes on the dessert table. You fold your arms and look around. This engagement party was lame. You would have preferred not to show your face, but you had promised your friend that you’d drop off a gift on behalf of her. If your friend hadn't been in hospital you would have stayed home.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You narrow your eyes. You turn around and bump into him. It’s the stranger who you rear-ended.

You look up at him. He’s still just as gorgeous. He dusts off the shoulder of his red blazer. You can’t help but notice he was wearing a crisp white dress shirt and black pants. His earring glinted in the light. Shit this boy could dress well.

“You never got in touch.” You snark.

“It’s been one day.” He retorts.

“Still. So tell me. What’s your name?” You grumble.

“Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi.” you repeat. You look up at him and notice just how pretty his eyes were. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he wasn’t actually sort of a dick. Determined to stop the bickering, you smile, flip your hair and throw your hand out for a shake.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry about the car. Please make sure you get the details from my insurance company. I hate unsettled things.”

“So do I.” He just looks at your extended hand and doesn't take it.

“Well. If that’s that.” You say, shrugging off his rudeness and walk over to the champagne table. You scoff to yourself. What is with him? You go to grab yourself a glass and remember that you probably should dump the present in the present pile first. You walk around in search of it.

You spot Crystal standing next to the gifts. Just my luck. You think. And although you’d hate to admit it, she is looking good. Her hair is swept over her left shoulder, curled and long. She’s busy talking to someone and showing off her ring. You make eye contact and you quickly turn around.

“Oh! Y/N!” Crystal calls out to you.

You stop in your tracks and turn back around. Crap. She’s seen you. You laugh nonchalantly and wave, gift still in your hand.

“Crystal!~” You say sweetly and go in to give her a hug.

You look to your right and realise that she had been speaking to Yoongi.

“Oh, Yoongi!” You say.

Crystal cocks her brow. “You two know each other?”

“Yes - he -" You pause. You didn’t want to reveal the fact that you had rear ended him, that was just plain embarrassing. Nor did you want to reveal that you were a) still single b) not ready to mingle and c) that she was clearly still doing better than you were.

“He’s my husband!” You say, almost surprising yourself with your ingenious idea. You just hoped he would play along, and that he actually wasn’t already married or dating anyone otherwise the lie wouldn’t work.

Yoongi’s jaw drops and he looks at you.

“What - ?!” He exclaims.

“Oh honey,” You say, quickly linking your arm with his and moving his hair out of his eyes. You shoot him a look and lean even closer when he tries to wriggle out of your grasp. Yoongi catches on and looks back at Crystal, clearing his throat.

“What, do you mean to tell me you’ve been keeping our marriage to yourself?” He says. Nice save. You think. His eyes though, tell you that he’s about to kill you.

“Yes… I wasn’t quite ready to share the secret.” You encourage him.

“Clearly.” He says, taking a jab at you.

Crystal watches on, confused. “I don’t see a ring…”

“Oh, it’s just being re-sized and his - his is being cleaned. You know how it is!” You say.

Yoongi smiles half heartedly at her.

“Yoongi, I’m really happy for you! I never thought you’d settle down. And with Y/N of all people.”

“Neither did I.” he says, through gritted teeth.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone.” She continues. Boy, she did not sound sincere at all. “Especially after we broke up a year ago - I thought you would never find anyone. I was starting to think you were still in love with me!”

You furrow your brow at her. Sure, Yoongi was a bit rude to you and a little cold on the two occasions you had met, but still, what kind of person says those kinds of things?

Yoongi says nothing to that and brushes it off. “Come on, we have to go - some things to discuss.” He says and he pulls you away.

As you both turn around, Crystal continues. “Still doing that book course?”

You stop and turn to face her. “Yes - my Masters in Literature, actually.”

Yoongi’s interest peaks.

“It’s a pretty useless degree.” Crystal laughs and places her hand on her chest. “I mean, that’s only my opinion.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and just continue to smile sweetly.

“Ah I almost forgot. Here.” You untangle yourself from Yoongi’s arms and shove the gift into Crystal’s chest. She scrambles to grasp it to prevent it from falling.

You raise your brows at her and run back toward Yoongi, who is waiting for you. Yoongi places his hand around your waist. You look at him and look down. It felt... good. Comfortable.

Crystal sneers, holding her drink and the gift, which she lets fall onto the pile next to her.

As soon as you’re both out of sight, Yoongi pulls you behind the water fountain.

“What was all that!?!” He hisses, letting go of your body.

“I don’t know what the big deal is. You hate your ex. I hate your ex. It’s win-win.” You say, straightening your dress.

“I didn’t realise we ran in the same bad mutual friend circles.” he retorts, glaring at you.

“I grew up with her in high school and she used to bully me so I guess it was a jerk reaction…”

He sighs. “What if I actually had a girlfriend?”

You panic. “Do you?”

“No. But you took a gamble with that lie, especially knowing nothing about me. I know more about you from your license than you do about me.”

You shrug. “It worked out okay? We just need to both attend the wedding, be seen and then we can go our separate ways.”

“Why? This was all your dumb idea. We could have both just separately declined the invitation without complicating things!” Yoongi says, annoyed.

“Look, yes my quick thinking got us into this mess but it won’t be that bad.” He didn’t have to be so rude about it. You look up at him. He’s pouting as he thinks.

“We don’t have to do this - we could just say we’re both sick for the wedding. It’s in four months anyway.” You add. You were okay with not attending the wedding. Any excuse to have as little to do with Crystal as possible was a good one.

“We’ve already said we are together. Let’s just go through with it.” He responds, surprising you.

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m too proud to not pull through on my words.”

Yoongi reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out his phone. You watch as he dials a number. Suddenly, your phone vibrates in your purse and you pull it out. Unknown caller ID. You answer.

Yoongi hangs up. “That’s my number.”

He extends his hand and you give the phone over to him. He edits the contact and takes a quick selfie. He smirks at his own photograph and hands it back over to you.

You look down at it and can’t help but let out a laugh. The audacity. He’s edited his contact with hearts and flowers. Min Yoongi. You hate to admit it, the photo does look good.

“Y/N, look up.” he says. You do, and he snaps another photo of you and adds it to his exisiting contact.

“Why are you always taking photos of me?!”

“If we get caught, we need to at least act the part.” he says, shrugging. “I’ll be in touch in a few weeks to sort the rest of this out with you.”

He turns to leave.

“Wait! Shouldn’t we leave this party together?” You say in a low voice, “You know, in case anyone sees?”

Yoongi sighs. He extends his arm again and you link in with him. Your heart flutters a little at the contact. You both reach the front door and exit onto the street.

You recognise his car from the other day, the bump still visible in the rear fender. Letting go of his arm, you wave goodbye.

“I’ll be in touch.” He says and swiftly gets into his car, leaving you on the sidewalk with nothing but his mobile number and a good looking selfie.

***

You knock on the door of his apartment.

The door swings open. He’s leaning against the frame.

You smile, “I brought chicken!”

He nods and turns into his apartment. He waves at the table. “Put it over there.” The coffee table is sitting in the middle of the lounge, in front of the couch.

Scowling, you take off your shoes and slip into his guest slippers. What was his problem, was he always so rude? You scurry over to the table and open the bag and unpack the two boxes of chicken, hoping it hasn’t gotten soggy. It hasn’t.

Yoongi moves around in his kitchen and brings out two glasses, holding two bottles of soju and a can of beer tucked under his arm.

“The only way I can get through this ‘get to know you’ is if I drink.” He plonks them on the table and sits down quickly, cracking open a bottle of soju.

“Same here.” You retort.

“We’re only here because of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Quit any time.” You say, rolling your eyes.

You still didn’t quite understand why Yoongi agreed to go through with this fake marriage situation. Moreover, he had suggested you both meet to get to know each other more.

Yoongi pours you a glass and you move to the kitchen and get some plates.

“Yah, what are you doing?” He calls from the table.

“Getting plates, sheesh.”

He settles down. You frown at him and pull out two plates from the kitchen and sit back down at the table.

You gulp the soju down in one shot. From where you’re seated in the lounge room, you can see the kitchen and doors that seem to lead to his bedroom.

Yoongi watches you as you look around. His apartment is clean, white and black. The kitchen has shiny black cupboards and a black marble counter. His lounge is spacious, for the most part, empty, bar a large tv screen, surround sound and a bookcase of books and CDs.

“What’s beyond there?”

He turns to look behind him. “My bedroom, the bathroom, my studio...”

“Studio?” You ask.

“Yes. I produce music for a living.” He chews lazily on a chicken drumstick.

“Any songs I’d know?”

“Not sure if you have any taste in music.”

You shoot him a look. “Try me.” Your competitive edge is back.

Yoongi leans back against the couch and stretches out his legs. “Wine. By Suran.”

“Wine… Suran.” You rack your brain. “Oh?! Really? You produced that song? It’s awesome.” You say, excited.

“Eh, don’t lie. It took you a while to remember the song.”

“What? No. It goes like this.” You begin to hum some of the song. Yoongi is a little impressed but tries to hide it and nonchalantly takes another sip of beer.

“See, I’m right.” You say, triumphantly. He shrugs it off. It’s quiet again. You pour yourself another cup of soju.

Yoongi leans forward, pulling a small box out from under the table and places it down in front of you.

“Open it.”

Curious, you slowly untie the pale blue ribbon and pull open the lid of the box. In there sits a beautiful cut diamond ring. It’s a single stone on a silver band.

“We have to look the part.” He says, simply. Taking a piece of pickled radish with his chopsticks from the container on the table.

“You didn’t have to - I didn’t get you one.”

Yoongi holds his left hand up.

He’s already wearing his ring, a simple and somewhat thick titanium band. It fits well on his slender fingers. “It’s sorted.”

You fumble with the ring as one hand has sticky chicken sauce on it. Getting impatient, he takes your left hand in his and swiftly slides the ring onto your finger.

He smirks. “Glad it fits.”

You inspect the ring. It’s a perfect fit.

***

Two hours in and you know the ways each of you sleep, bad habits, youthful dreams and favourite songs.

Three hours in and you’re both drunk.

“I can’t believe you did that!?” You laugh, pointing at him as you hold your stomach. “Ah that is so funny!” You roll on the floor and wipe your eyes.  You know, he wasn’t that bad when he had a couple of drinks. He was less haughty, less uptight.

“Stop laughing at me!” He exclaims. He points his chopsticks at you. Yoongi was enjoying himself.

“Okay, okay.” You sit up. Yoongi leans on the coffee table and carelessly rifles through the empty boxes.

The conversation lulls and you find yourself admiring his face.

You scoot forward, crossing your legs and move closer to him. Yoongi looks like he’s about to fall asleep. You tap his shoulder.

“What was our first kiss like?” You say to him. “Like, when did we have our first kiss?”

“No one is going to ask that.” He says, eyes closed and head propped by his arm.

“They might.”

He scoffs. “You’re not the type of girl I would usually go for.”

This side comment gets to you. What does that mean? You frown. Something in you urges you to kiss him, just to prove a point. You skull your glass, place it down on the table and wipe your mouth. He’s watching you with an incredulous look on his face, somewhat entertained at your actions.

You reach for his cheeks, pulling his face towards yours, startling him. You move in and place a kiss on his lips. His lips part slightly and his eyes open wide.

You move back and laugh. “Let’s say our first kiss happened exactly like this.” You stretch your arms up and fall back onto the couch, happy with yourself and proud that you managed to unsettle the ever cool Min Yoongi.

“Yah! What was that for?” Yoongi says, shocked.

“I don’t know. Who cares?”

“You’re so spontaneous. It’s scary.” He can't help but lick and bite his lower lip. He looks away, embarrassed, hoping you didn’t see.

“So I presume Crystal is your type of girl, then?” You say, snarkily.

“Hm?” he’s distracted.

“You. Crystal.”

Yoongi stretches out, laying down on the carpet and props his head underneath his arms.

“We were together for two years.”

“So who broke up with who?”

“I broke up with her.”

“Why?”

He turns and looks at you. Yoongi takes a moment to respond. “She cheated on me with the man she’s marrying now.” He says, softly.

“Oh.” Your heart ached a bit. “That…that sucks.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Do you still have feelings for her?” For some reason you’re nervous. You shouldn’t be, and you shouldn’t care either, but you do.

“No.”

***

“Ugh, get up. You’re so messy.” He pokes you with his foot. “Do you know how loud you snore? I had to move to the other side of the lounge.”

“Huh?” You sit up, rubbing your eyes. Your hair is a mess, drool has crept out from the corner of your mouth and your clothes are twisted. You let out an unattractive yawn.

“Is it morning?”

Yoongi is standing, looking down at you with a frown on his face.

“Here.” He thrusts a cup of coffee in front of your face.

You look down. You didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch. Yoongi must have picked you up. You even had a pillow underneath your head. You look over at the other couch. There’s a blanket there too. He must have stayed in the lounge with you last night.

“The bathroom is through there.”

He heads back to the kitchen, opens the fridge and pulls out a tray of eggs. He turns on the stove and bends down, pulling out a fry pan. You watch him for a moment, working his way around the kitchen.

You had learnt a lot about him the night before, but you still felt like you had only scraped the surface.

“Stop staring.”

You blink, recompose yourself and cough. You head to the bathroom.

After washing your face, you can’t help but do a bit of snooping. You come across his bedroom. A king-sized bed sits in the middle of a plain and simple room. You notice another door. It’s closed. You turn the handle and push it open.

It’s his studio. Awards line the shelves, a couple of posters and some collector edition bears. An old CD player sits by the door, a pile of books on the desk and a jacket flung over the computer chair.

You look through his music collection and come across an untitled CD that particularly catches your eye. You pick it up. You head over to the old CD player you had noticed when you first entered the room and put it on, pressing play. It’s a beautiful and somewhat sad, whimsical melody.

Yoongi rushes in and turns it off. “Who said you could come in here?”

“Oh I was just…”

“You were just?! What is with you? You’re so intrusive.”

“What do you mean? I am just trying to get to know you.”

Why were you both continuously butting heads and bickering? If the past 24 hours were anything to go by, you actually had similar interests.

“Food is on the table. Eat at your leisure.”

You sheepishly head back out to the kitchen, where you see he’s made some toast, sausages and eggs. You pull the chair out and take a seat. Your half finished coffee is on the table too. Yoongi had warmed it back up for you. You pick at your food with the fork.

When was he coming out? Giving in, you eat and don’t wait for him. You take your plates over to the kitchen and begin to wash up. As you do, you stare at his breakfast, which is getting colder by the minute. You dry and put away the plates and go to wrap his breakfast up, putting it in the fridge.

You collect your things and head back to the studio. Knocking on the door, you open it a crack.

Yoongi is seated on his computer chair, flipping through a book.

“I’ll get going now. Thanks for breakfast.”

He doesn’t bother to turn around or say goodbye. You spot a packet of post-it notes by the door and quietly grab the packet. You pull a face at his back and shut the door.

You head back out to the kitchen, peel off a post it note and dig a pen out from your bag. You hurriedly scrawl “Sorry.” and stick the post on his breakfast.

***

The late afternoon sun is warm on your face. You swing your legs on the bench as you bite down on the sugar coated cream puff you had bought yourself. You watch as the couples move in and out of the coffee shop across the road.

It had been a tough few weeks for you. Your exam results were coming out soon and this was going to dictate whether or not you had wasted the last few years of your life studying for your Master’s degree. You sigh. Crystal’s scorn still in your mind. Maybe she was right. Why did you care so much anyway?

You take another large bite from the cream puff. You had already eaten two and this was your third. You let out a wail. You had gained a bit of weight from all of the stress, your rent was due, you were exhausted and you were sick of experiencing this quarter-life crisis of yours.

You look down at your feet. A shadow passes over you and blocks out the sun. Another pair of shoes meet your vision.

“You’re early.”

You look up. Yoongi is looking at you with a bemused look on his face.

“I got us coffee. The line is always long there but they’re well known for their cream puffs!” You say, mouth full.

“I can see that.” He crouches in front of you, one hand over his knee. He lets out a small laugh and you can see his gummy smile. He brings his other hand to your cheek, brushing off the excess powdered sugar you’d somehow gotten on your face. Your eyes meet. You pause and almost choke on your food.

He quickly stands, flexes his hand and sticks his hand in his pockets. He’d done this a few times, the contact had become almost a casual reflex.

Yoongi makes a point of ignoring your spluttering and gasps for air, suddenly aware of his act.

“Let’s go.”

Yoongi walks ahead and you quickly gulp your coffee in an attempt to wash down the cream puff that had gotten stuck.

You follow behind him, the two take away coffees swinging in the carry tray.

He pauses and you hold your breath, stopping in your tracks, wondering what he’d do next. He takes his ice coffee out of the carry tray and sips on the straw. You place your hand over your chest and breathe a sigh of relief.

This was just one of the multiple outings you had had in an attempt to get to know each other better. Each one of them were his idea. The more you spent time with each other, the more you let your guard down. Yoongi though, well - his guard was always up.

Every so often you’d get caught up in the moment, find yourself admiring him wistfully and having to remind yourself to snap out of it. All this time with his was doing something to your feelings. It had been a few months since you realised you were growing feelings for Yoongi. You realised it when you found yourself stopping at his office on the way to your lectures, coffee in hand. Sometimes Yoongi met you for lunch.

On a few occasions, he had accidentally brushed his hand against yours. You had gotten a little too close and accustomed to the touches. Was it just because you’re both in this fake relationship? As soon as we break this off, I’ll get over this feeling. You had been telling yourself this for days.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“We need to get you a dress for the wedding.”

“Right. The wedding.” It was in two days.

You follow him to a boutique store. Its high ceilings and chandeliers scream elegance and expensive taste. Silk lines a number of racks, tulle and chiffon on another.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable on the circular velvet seat in the middle of the store.

“Go pick some dresses out and try them on.”

You make a face. “Hold my food.”

***

“What about this?” You ask.

You hold up a white and a yellow dress.

He’s sipping his iced latte through a straw while trawling through his phone. Yoongi tilts his head and makes a face that you can only presume means ‘terrible.’

He waves you away. “Just go get changed back into your clothes.”

You sigh, head back into the change rooms. Yoongi calls one of the store assistants over. She knocks on the change room door and hands you a dress through the crack as you’re pulling on your shoes.

She gestures to Yoongi. “He suggested this.”

It’s a blue velvet dress. The cut doesn’t allow for a bra. You pull it on, but require some assistance zipping it up.

“Um, excuse me?”

Yoongi gets up from the seat, hearing your request for help.

He leans against the panel near the door.

“Come out, I’ll help you.”

You get nervous. “Ah no it’s okay.”

“Come out.”

You nervously unlock the door and step outside. You turn your back towards him and face the mirror. The zip on the dress is situated at your lower back. Yoongi is careful with his fingers not to touch your skin. He hesitates.

Yoongi brings the blue velvet material together, places a hand on your waist as leverage for the zip and slowly pulls the zipper upwards along your back. Finally, he clasps it at the hook at the nape of your neck. It’s the best dress you’ve tried on so far.

You let go of your hair and step forward, turning around to face him. It’s almost sensual. His hand lingers on your waist for a moment.

Yoongi inhales and is about to say something when a laugh interjects.

“Oh Y/N. You look great.”

Yoongi frowns and looks over his shoulder.

“Crystal.” he greets her. You can’t say the same.

“Ah. I’m just here picking up some last minute bridesmaid dresses.” She says. No one even asked you what you were doing. You think to yourself.

“Pity - it’s such a lovely dress. I don’t think your body shape suits that dress well.”

This was actually one of the few dresses you felt comfortable in. You turn to look at the mirror again, your eyes getting teary. Why of all days, did you have to see her again? Your confidence takes another hit. You were feeling bloated and gross and were greatly regretting that third cream puff.

“Actually, it’s the dress that doesn’t suit her body shape. Not the other way around.” Yoongi says. You shoot him a thankful smile.

His phone buzzes and he takes the call.

“I’ll be back.” he says, stepping outside, leaving just you and Crystal and the shop assistant alone.

Crystal steps closer to you.

“You know, I thought you were faking it at the beginning but I can see he actually does have feelings for you.” She nods in his direction, as he stands outside on the phone. She eyes your ring on your finger.

God don’t play with my feelings. You think.

“Madam? Your dresses are ready.” The shop assistant calls from behind the counter.

You bite your lip, trying to fight back tears.

“Anyway, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.” She says, collecting her bags from the counter. You return back into the dressing room, trying your best to unzip the dress on your own. You close your eyes, feeling your eyelids get hot. It wasn’t too late to bail on the wedding.

You poke your head outside. Thankfully, another assistant has started her shift and helps you unzip the dress. You change back into your clothes in a flurry, hurriedly hanging the dress back on the coat hanger.

Yoongi gets off the phone and heads back into the boutique. Crystal intercepts him and gives him a hug goodbye. He doesn’t return the hug, instead clenching his fist by his side.

Yoongi cooly nods at Crystal and turns to face you.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

He places his arm around your shoulder and leads you away from Crystal and to the exit of the shop. You begin to open your mouth to say something about the fact that his hand is on your shoulder.

“I would hold your hand but that would ruin my bad boy image.” He says.

***

You get into the car and buckle your seat, quiet on the way back. Yoongi glances over at you a couple of times. He can see your face is red but he doesn’t say anything.

He unlocks the door to his apartment and holds it open for you as you head straight to the bathroom to cool your face down.

You sit on the bathroom floor and pull your legs up, hugging yourself, leaning against the bathtub. You fail to stop the tears. Your confidence was shot, your anxiety levels peaking and you couldn’t bear the thought of facing Yoongi like this.

Yoongi knocks on the door to the bathroom, after having noticed you’d been in there for far too long.

“Y/N?” He asks.

“Mmm? Just a minute.” You say, voice muffled.

You don’t move, hoping he’d go away. He doesn’t. You can see the shadow from the crack under the door.

“Y/N.” he says again, trying the door. It’s locked.

You watch as his shadow disappears. He comes back and you hear the door click.

He’s holding a teaspoon that he’s used to unlock the door. You peek at him from behind your arms. Your eyes are puffy and your face is flushed.

Yoongi puts the spoon down on the floor next to him and sits next to you. You’re puzzled by the spoon and how he had unlocked the door.

He’s still for a moment. He then takes your hand in his and pulls you to him. You’re surprised by the act. You can’t help but let yourself be held in his arms. You cry into his shoulder and he strokes your hair, not saying a word.

“I don’t even know what I am doing. She has a point. My degree, my whole life. I feel like everyone is moving ahead in their lives.” You say, between sobs.

“And I’m just stuck. Stuck in some loop. I was afraid of moving on with my life so I decided to do a master’s degree. And what is this degree going to do for me? I’m giving all my money away for a piece of paper and some fleeting idea of a career.” You wipe your nose.

Half of what you’re saying are just questions you had been asking yourself for days. This was the first time you let out all of the thoughts that had been consuming you for the past few weeks.

“I don’t know. I just. What am I doing with my life? In comparison? Instead I am getting myself stuck in fake relationships with random people and going around in circles.”

Yoongi tenses next to you. Your comment about your fake relationship somehow getting to him. You ignore it. “Will I ever be good enough for someone? I’m so pathetic.”

“Why do you care what other people think?” Yoongi says softly.

“I just... I mean...” You choke back tears. “I don't know what I have to do.”

“You should learn to love yourself. You’re doing the best you can. That’s all any of us are doing.”

He wraps his arms around you tighter. You sit there together in silence.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks, your head resting on his shoulders.

“Mmm. Yes.”

You look up at him and give him a small smile. “Thank you for -”

“Don’t mention it.”

He brings one of his hands up to your face and wipes away a stray tear that’s fallen on your cheek. You can only imagine how good you must look now. He brings his hand behind your head and pulls you to him. Yoongi places a gentle kiss on your forehead. He moves back and returns a smile.

Before you can react, he's bringing you to a stand.

“Come on. I’ll get dinner ready.”

***

You just needed to get through tonight. Sure, over the past few months you had developed strong feelings for him. You were confused and unsure of how to deal with the arrangement coming to an end and the way Yoongi was acting confused you even more.

You were feeling particularly vulnerable, especially after having freaked out yesterday. You touch your forehead, where Yoongi had given you a light kiss.

After dinner last night, he drove you home. It was fairly uneventful but you slept well, not realising just how exhausted you were. You place one of your old dresses onto the couch in Yoongi’s apartment. He had told you to meet and get ready at his. It wasn’t the best, was a bit big but did the job, you were at least comfortable in it.

You had thought he was proud, arrogant and heartless. But as you got to know him you realised you admired his strength and his no-nonsense attitude. He was so hard-working. Your stance on him had gradually softened over the past few months.

Yoongi on the other hand, was particularly unfazed today. Was he trying to bury that interaction from yesterday? You weren’t sure where you stood.

“Follow me.”

He enters the studio and you follow him. The door slams behind you. You had pulled it a little too hard.

Yoongi takes off his glasses and rubs his eye. He blinks and puts them back on. You can’t help but let your eyes wash over him. He’s looking too ridiculously good in that black turtleneck.

He picks up a medium sized pink box, tied close with a large ribbon. Yoongi throws it at you and you barely manage to catch it.

“Here.”

You put the box down on the table. He watches you nervously. You slowly untie the ribbon and it falls around the box. You pull up the lid, met by tissue paper. You carefully pull back the tissue paper, trying not to rip it and gasp. It’s a beautiful, simple and long satin black slip dress.

“You should go and get ready.”

You nod and turn to open the door. You pull at it and it doesn’t budge. Frowning, you push on it, expecting it to open. It doesn’t.

You sigh, exasperated and turn to face Yoongi, worry kicking in.

He steps towards you and closes the space between your bodies. He reaches his arm behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, breathless.

Yoongi moves closer still and brings his lips to your ear. “I’m opening the door.”

He pushes down on the handle, hard and the door gives way.

Yoongi walks past you. “You can use my room to change.”

You breathe out, holding the box close to you, you walk to the bedroom.

You place the box on the bed and lift the dress out by the straps. You carefully undress and pull the dress on. It hugs your body, the material caressing your skin lightly. He’s got good taste.

Shortly after applying your make up, you hear a knock on your door.

“Come in!”

He opens the door and stands there, admiring you. He can’t stop looking at you. You can’t help but admire him too, his tousled hair, his sharp grey and black patterned suit and black tie.

You put on your left diamond drop earring and lastly, place the ring on your finger.

You stand up and walk towards him.

“How do I look?”

His eyes wash over your body and you look away, feeling hot.

“Good.”

You smile to yourself.

“Do you like it?” He asks, referring to the dress.

“Yes, the dress is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” You think you hear him say.

He clears his throat. “Let’s go, wife.”

***

You take a few sips of water. Although you weren’t wearing much, your body was feeling incredibly hot. Yoongi glances at you as you fan yourself. You smile at him, encouragingly. You had both decided to skip the ceremony and only show up for the reception.

Crystal takes the hand of her new husband and they move onto the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. A soft melody moves through the speakers.

Where had you heard this before? You close your eyes and rack your brain. Yoongi’s studio. The song. You open your eyes. She had the nerve to play the song that Yoongi had made for her years ago? For their first dance?

You look over at Yoongi, whose jaw is clenched and his hand is tapping on the table loudly. He seems really uncomfortable. You slowly go to take his hand in yours, squeezing it ever so slightly.

Yoongi is surprised and looks at you. He doesn’t move away.

You watch as she spins around. Finally, the dance finishes and the rest of the bridal party join. Yoongi gets up.

He looks down at you and extends his hand.

“Coming?”

You place the napkin that was sitting on your lap onto the table and follow him.

He leads you out to the dance floor. He lets go of your hand and walks up to the DJ. He whispers in his ear and the DJ nods. Yoongi moves back towards you, and places his hands around your waist, pulling your body into his. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

A soothing and slightly upbeat melody fills the garden. The two of you sway to the music.

You place your head on his chest as the song comes to a close.

Your heart is beating like crazy. He smiles. You stand there still a little while after the song finishes.

“That song ... that was beautiful.”

“I wrote it for you.”

“Thank you.” is all you can get out. You’re almost tearing up at the thoughtfulness.

You bring your arms down to your sides and he takes your hand, leading you back to the row of tables and your seat as others choose to continue dancing.

You reach for the water and gulp it down.

“Okay?” he asks, concerned.

“I think I’m fine, I just feel really light headed?”

Yoongi frowns at you.

“You’re burning up.” he says, placing the back of his hand on your forehead.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Come on, let’s go home.” Yoongi insists.

***

He pulls the thermometer out from your ear. “Slight fever.”

You’re sitting in his bed, watching him move in and out of the bedroom, coming with water, a cold and wet flannel and even food.

“I’ll be sleeping in the lounge, okay?” He says, handing you a glass of water. You accept it, your fingers touching his as you take it from him.

“Stay with me?” You ask, boldly.

He gazes at you from the side of the bed.

“I’ll stay.”

End.

#bts fiction #bts imagines #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #yoongi bts

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harrison-abbott · 5 years

Text

ODE FOR THOMAS PYNCHON

There is an episode in Season 6 of The Simpsons called Hommie the Clown. The story begins when Homer is driving down a motorway, and, seeing lines of billboards in front of him, exclaims, “It must be the first day of the month! New billboard day!” He drives closer and stops in front of the first billboard, an advert for English muffins, which perks his interest, and then onto the next, an advert for BBQ sauce, which makes him chuckle. He then spots a billboard with the bold letters ‘KRUSTY’S CLOWN COLLEGE’ with four dancing Krustys under it. Homer scoffs and remarks, “Clown College … You can’t eat that!” and drives off. Despite declaring himself uninterested in the Krusty billboard, it keeps popping into Homer’s mind. He begins to hallucinate at work, his colleagues turning into clowns, accompanied by jangly circus music. At the family dinner table that evening, he makes a circus tent with his pile of mashed potatoes. Marge, Bart, Lisa and Maggie turn into dancing clowns, prompting Homer to explode, “That’s it! You people have stood in my way long enough! I’m going to clown college!”

This is an analogy for a discovery I made as a younger man in my University days. But, before going on, allow a brief introduction to the personal context within which that discovery was made.

I was 22 and had just completed the 3rd Year of my Psychology undergraduate degree. It was summer, and I’d just moved in to a new flat. I’d also just been dumped by a girl – ha – which made me rather blue. The said girl had been inviting me out on dates for around two months. The first month went pretty well, or so I thought back then. The second month the girl began to repeatedly talk about her ex-boyfriend, who had been a half-friend of mine before and who I hadn’t known was her ex. Her talking of the ex grew more repetitive on our dates, until it became one of the main things she talked about. On the last date I had with the girl, she invited me out on a picnic, and talked about how impressed she was with the ex for getting a 1st in his Degree. He was graduating that same day, and she was sending him a surprise bottle of wine for his afterparty. We finished the picnic, which she had prepared, and she made to leave. I motioned to kiss her bye on the lips; she snatched her head away to the side and allowed me to kiss her on the cheek. I made some jokey remark, like, “Oh I was actually aiming for the lips …?” She laughed, turned, and walked away. A few hours later she called me up to break it off, insinuating that there was another man in her life. And kept asking me to guess who this other man was.

But, blah blah, this story is so absurd I now just find it funny. The relevant thing was that it led me onto a horrific alcoholic binge after it ended. I got fucked out my brain on whisky, wine, beer for weeks on end – drank as much as I could, just to hurt myself. I became obsessed with Kurt Cobain, like some 14-year-old, and kept self-harming with Bic razor blades, determined to convince myself that I had Bi-Polar Disorder. Haha, it was pathetic. I drank a half bottle of cheap whisky before every shift at work: I don’t know how I didn’t get fired.

My flatmate whom I’d just moved in with went off on a long summer holiday to Europe, meaning I had the space to myself for three months. My binge came to a moment of clarity, one lucky day, and I decided to halt the boozing for a night. I cleared all the bottles/cans out to the bins, and I went down to the University Library that evening.

The Sir Duncan Rice Library at Aberdeen was terrific – probably the place which has most nurtured me intellectually. Whilst I studied a scientific degree, which was dependent on reading electronic science journals, I was far more interested in the physical literature section in the Library, which was huge. So I would raid the novels and poetry collections alongside doing Psychology, a healthy mix of art and science. The Library also had this little music room in an isolated corner of the building, with a keyboard and recording equipment. I’d go in there and make weird recordings, many of which became part of the Violent Birth of the Moon repertoire. The Library was thus an enchanting place where I could learn and be creative.

It also stayed open into the a.m. hours each night, so that a handful of us insomniac-Travis-Bickle types could go there whenever we pleased. But that day when I sobered up was the most important day of my University era.

I first saw it – the book – whilst roaming the American literature section. ‘Gravity’s Rainbow …’ I thought, ‘That’s a ballsy title …’ I picked it up – a huge, blue, hardbacked, clumpy thing, without any jacket or front cover image. Just those words and an author I’d never encountered before. I skimmed through it and the text was smaller and denser than any of the other books I had in my current haul. I’d come on it by chance, and why hadn’t I heard of it? And why was there no blurb, or author bio – nothing to explain it? Annoyed with curiosity, I hesitated, but then put it back on the shelve. And I went back home with the other books, and sat in my silent flat, trying to read them. I managed to avoid buying booze from the shop before 10 p.m., and I dosed off to sleep, unsatisfied with the books I’d tried. I had a dream about the enormous blue book I’d left behind in the Library. I woke up whilst it was still dark, got dressed, and cycled back to the campus and took Gravity’s Rainbow out.

I stopped drinking, ended the absurd binge, forgot about the silly girl-incident, and became completely obsessed with this new book.

These are the two sentences which complete the first paragraph of Thomas Pynchon’s 760 page novel Gravity’s Rainbow:

“A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.”

After and during my obsession for the book, I kept telling other people about it. I kept trying to explain the answer when they asked “what’s it about?” I couldn’t do it, at least not very well. Wikipedia cites the basic setting and plot of the novel as thus:

“Lengthy, complex, and featuring a large cast of characters, the narrative is set primarily in Europe at the end of World War II, and centres on the design, production and dispatch of V-2 rockets by the German military. In particular, it features the quest undertaken by several characters to uncover the secret of a mysterious device named the "Schwarzgerät" ("black device"), slated to be installed in a rocket with the serial number "00000".”

Except, the above is not a revealing explanation. Not that I could do any better, but I’ll try.

The main plot-premise involves the central character Slothrop and his adventures during the closing chapters of WWII. Slothrop travels across Europe a great deal and has sex with a great deal of women. Every time Slothrop has sex, a V-2 rocket strikes the exact same spot in which the sexual incident occurred, a few days later. All kinds of military craftsmen and rocket scientists begin to believe that Slothrop has some mystic ability to thus predict the powers of the V-2 rockets, which is in someway connected to this coveted secret called the Schwarzgerät with the special number 00000. These military craftsmen and scientists seek to capture Slothrop in order to understand a mystical element of warfare for self-benefit. Slothrop’s sexual exploits take him from London, to the French Riviera, Northern Germany … yet nowhere is specific, and Europe becomes a roaming magical place of setting. Alongside his women he meets MI5 agents, SS officers, sex slaves, Pavlovian psychologists, a militarily-engineered octopus with which he has a physical fight, Schwarzkommando cadres, a witch, a porn star … Slothrop slowly begins to lose his mind, and channels a variety of alter-egos, as a war reporter, a German actress, a Russian troop … It is too hard to explain, really.

Because it is unlike any thing I have ever encountered artistically. Not even solely in a literary sense. There is no book like Gravity’s Rainbow, but no film, or symphony or spectacular work of art either. I love GR for its ability to blend the obscure, the offbeat and the irregular into something that can be read with a type of astonished relish. The book is narrated almost entirely in present-tense, which gives it a rollicking pace. Words and sentences constantly explode in chaotic directions, yet all seem to be linked together in perfect imperfection. Pynchon bends his syntax, elongates language, punches and drags the reader through wacky scenarios. There are rape scenes, murder scenes, which should be too horrific to read – and they are horrific, but are described so exquisitely that one’s eyes lap them up. A lot of the book is very funny, often crass, crude. And yet most importantly Pynchon clearly has morality behind his multivariate approach. For instance, here’s an example, taken from a single paragraph (from my edition pages 549-551):

“The nationalities are on the move. It is a great frontierless streaming out here … Poles fleeing the Lublin regime, others going back home, the eyes of both parties, when they do meet, hooded behind cheekbones, eyes much older than what’s forced them into moving … Estonians, Letts, and Lithuanians trekking north again, all in their wintry wool in dark bundles, shoes in tatters, songs too hard to sing, talk pointless … white wrists and ankles incredibly wasted poking from their striped prison camp pajamas, footsteps light as waterfowl’s in this inland dust … bobbing, drifting, at a certain hour of the dusk, like candleflames in religious procession – supposed to be heading today for Hannover, supposed to pick potatoes along the way … non-existent potato fields plundered by the SS, ja, every fucking potato field, and what for? Alcohol. No, not to drink, alcohol for the rockets. … Women in army trousers split at the knees … looted chickens alive and dead … harmoniums, grandfather clocks … paintings of pink daughters in white frocks, of saints bleeding, of salmon and purple sunsets over the sea, dolls smiling out of violently red lips … So the populations move, across the open meadow, limping, marching, shuffling, carried, hauling along the detritus of an order, a European and bourgeois order they don’t know yet is destroyed forever.”

What can we see here? Aside from wonderful wordplay and beautiful language we see how clever Pynchon is. He has a wide knowledge of the war, and a compassion for the masses of people it affected. The sense of setting is profound; the enormity of the war is emphasised. This is only a fragment of the quoted paragraph …

Pynchon is thus a historian as well as a writer of fiction. As well as a mathematician, scientist, music fanatic, film buff; all seen in a glorious collection of references, stats, diagrams, quotes, you name it. I’m clearly a nerd of this book. And perhaps not everybody would feel the same about it. Indeed, the book received much negative backlash by the critics upon initial reception in 1973. Although nominated for the Pulitzer Fiction Award in 1974, it was described as ‘unreadable’ and ‘overwritten’ by the jury board. And directly rejected because of a sex scene involving coprophagia – the consumption of faeces, in this case for sexual gratification. This particular scene is only one of many erratic moments in the book, and definitely not the most ‘immoral’, if that is the correct word. This is a common example of how stupid the critics can be. And another example of how great works of art do not receive the attention they deserve by the critics of their time.

Anyway. Thomas Pynchon is a writer who has influenced me vastly, in a way differently from other influences. I’m not saying he is the ‘best’ or ‘most important’ to me, his work simply has a unique power over me. That particular summer, when I cleared up and read GR was among the most exhilarating periods in my life. It set me new ambitions, not necessarily to emulate Pynchon’s work (because this is impossible) but to be confident that there are always new things to be expressed in literature, and art. How an artist can be playful, universal with his craft, not afraid to seep up all his influences and hurl them wherever he wishes. I’ve read Pynchon’s other works too, and love them as well. I’ll admit I have a personal attachment in Gravity’s Rainbow because it singlehandedly pulled me out of that deranged period of alcohol, yet more importantly extended my love for literature to even greater levels, which I would never have thought possible. It’s an obsession which I still have, lingering.

I found a rare copy of Gravity’s Rainbow which I’d been looking for for ages. In a second hand bookstore – a neat, antique copy, for only £3. Thrilled, I took it into the woods by my home neighbourhood to read again. And I still can’t quite believe it, but I went and lost it somewhere in the woods. I was playing football with my dog at the same time, and somehow I must have left it on one of the park benches perhaps. Somebody found it, picked it up – and took it home? Or they threw it into the bushes? Either way, it feels like there’s a copy of it, waiting, hidden somewhere in the woods for me to find one day in the future. And hidden in my childhood play-arena, as it were, gives it a further sense of mysticism. When works of art can obsess a person so, they must have something special. As a developing writer myself, I hope I can make something that will affect people in such a way, one day. But I’ll need to put a lot of effort in before I can get anywhere near Gravity’s Rainbow.

15/05/19

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inloveandwords · 5 years

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The Buzzword Readathon starts on Monday and I’m SO ready.

OK, maybe not SO ready, but kind of ready and also nervous because I have a lot of physical books on my list and only one audio. Finding time to sit down and read a physical book is always a challenge for me, but that’s the whole point right?

If you’d rather watch this TBR and rec, check out my video here:

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Otherwise, keep reading!

Buzzword Readathon TBR

The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

Every year, the people of the Protectorate leave a baby as an offering to the witch who lives in the forest. They hope this sacrifice will keep her from terrorizing their town. But the witch in the forest, Xan, is kind and gentle. She shares her home with a wise Swamp Monster named Glerk and a Perfectly Tiny Dragon, Fyrian. Xan rescues the abandoned children and deliver them to welcoming families on the other side of the forest, nourishing the babies with starlight on the journey.

One year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby moonlight instead of starlight, filling the ordinary child with extraordinary magic. Xan decides she must raise this enmagicked girl, whom she calls Luna, as her own. To keep young Luna safe from her own unwieldy power, Xan locks her magic deep inside her. When Luna approaches her thirteenth birthday, her magic begins to emerge on schedule–but Xan is far away. Meanwhile, a young man from the Protectorate is determined to free his people by killing the witch. Soon, it is up to Luna to protect those who have protected her–even if it means the end of the loving, safe world she’s always known.

What if it’s Us by Becky Albertalli & Adam Silvera

Arthur is only in New York for the summer, but if Broadway has taught him anything, it’s that the universe can deliver a showstopping romance when you least expect it.

Ben thinks the universe needs to mind its business. If the universe had his back, he wouldn’t be on his way to the post office carrying a box of his ex-boyfriend’s things.

But when Arthur and Ben meet-cute at the post office, what exactly does the universe have in store for them?

Maybe nothing. After all, they get separated.

Maybe everything. After all, they get reunited.

But what if they can’t quite nail a first date . . . or a second first date . . . or a third?

What if Arthur tries too hard to make it work . . . and Ben doesn’t try hard enough?

What if life really isn’t like a Broadway play?

But what if it is?

Anywhere but Here by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

Seven years ago, I left Conway, South Carolina swearing I would never go back. I put that town in my rearview and didn’t stop until there were several hundred miles between me and the memories I wanted to leave behind. But you can’t outrun your own heart. The past always comes back, and it didn’t matter how far I went, I couldn’t erase the mark he left. I’d never met anyone like Kellen Nash before. He made me feel so . . . alive. Until I made the mistake of falling in love with him. I spent seven years trying to forget only to be forced to come face to face with him again. I wasn’t prepared for old wounds to be reopened or for him to still have this effect on me. He nearly broke me once. I won’t give him the chance to do it again, even if he does still look at me like he can see everything I keep hidden inside. There’s too much history between us, like the North and the South, to forgive and forget so easily, but the longer I’m back, the more I start to question what really happened then, and the more I worry about what will happen if he discovers my biggest secret.

At seventeen she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and not at all what I expected. A girl like her didn’t belong with a guy like me, but that didn’t stop me from wanting her, or breaking her heart. I never thought I’d see her again, but she’s back. Only she isn’t the girl I knew. In her place is an angry spitfire even more gorgeous than I remember, and she’s determined to take all that anger out on me. I’ve spent seven years missing her, living with the regret of letting her go, and when I start to catch glimpses of the girl I loved, I realize it’s never too late. Or is it?

When Dimple Met Rishi by Sandhya Menon

Dimple Shah has it all figured out. With graduation behind her, she’s more than ready for a break from her family, from Mamma’s inexplicable obsession with her finding the “Ideal Indian Husband.” Ugh. Dimple knows they must respect her principles on some level, though. If they truly believed she needed a husband right now, they wouldn’t have paid for her to attend a summer program for aspiring web developers…right?

Rishi Patel is a hopeless romantic. So when his parents tell him that his future wife will be attending the same summer program as him—wherein he’ll have to woo her—he’s totally on board. Because as silly as it sounds to most people in his life, Rishi wants to be arranged, believes in the power of tradition, stability, and being a part of something much bigger than himself.

The Shahs and Patels didn’t mean to start turning the wheels on this “suggested arrangement” so early in their children’s lives, but when they noticed them both gravitate toward the same summer program, they figured, Why not?

Dimple and Rishi may think they have each other figured out. But when opposites clash, love works hard to prove itself in the most unexpected ways.

Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler

Min Green and Ed Slaterton are breaking up, so Min is writing Ed a letter and giving him a box. Inside the box is why they broke up. Two bottle caps, a movie ticket, a folded note, a box of matches, a protractor, books, a toy truck, a pair of ugly earrings, a comb from a motel room, and every other item collected over the course of a giddy, intimate, heartbreaking relationship. Item after item is illustrated and accounted for, and then the box, like a girlfriend, will be dumped.

Roar by Stacy Sims

Women are not small men. Stop eating and training like one.

Because most nutrition products and training plans are designed for men, it’s no wonder that so many female athletes struggle to reach their full potential. ROAR is a comprehensive, physiology-based nutrition and training guide specifically designed for active women. This book teaches you everything you need to know to adapt your nutrition, hydration, and training to your unique physiology so you can work with, rather than against, your female physiology. Exercise physiologist and nutrition scientist Stacy T. Sims, PhD, shows you how to be your own biohacker to achieve optimum athletic performance.

Complete with goal-specific meal plans and nutrient-packed recipes to optimize body composition, ROAR contains personalized nutrition advice for all stages of training and recovery. Customizable meal plans and strengthening exercises come together in a comprehensive plan to build a rock-solid fitness foundation as you build lean muscle where you need it most, strengthen bone, and boost power and endurance. Because women’s physiology changes over time, entire chapters are devoted to staying strong and active through pregnancy and menopause. No matter what your sport is—running, cycling, field sports, triathlons—this book will empower you with the nutrition and fitness knowledge you need to be in the healthiest, fittest, strongest shape of your life.

♥ ♥ ♥

Buzzword Readathon Recs from my Bookshelf

Hideous Love by Stephanie Hemphill

An all-consuming love affair.

A family torn apart by scandal.

A young author on the brink of greatness.

Hideous Love is the fascinating story of Gothic novelist Mary Shelley, who as a teen girl fled her restrictive home only to find herself in the shadow of a brilliant but moody boyfriend, famed poet Percy Shelley. It is the story of the mastermind behind one of the most iconic figures in all of literature: a monster constructed out of dead bodies and brought to life by the tragic Dr. Frankenstein.

Mary wrote Frankenstein at the age of nineteen, but inspiration for the monster came from her life-the atmospheric European settings she visited, the dramas swirling around her, and the stimulating philosophical discussions with the greatest minds of the period, like her close friend, Lord Byron.

This luminous verse novel from award-winning author Stephanie Hemphill reveals how Mary Shelley became one of the most celebrated authors in history.

What I Thought Was True by Huntley Fitzpatrick

Gwen Castle has never so badly wanted to say good-bye to her island home till now: the summer her Biggest Mistake Ever, Cassidy Somers, takes a job there as the local yard boy. He’s a rich kid from across the bridge in Stony Bay, and she hails from a family of fishermen and housecleaners who keep the island’s summer people happy. Gwen worries a life of cleaning houses will be her fate too, but just when it looks like she’ll never escape her past—or the island—Gwen’s dad gives her some shocking advice. Sparks fly and secret histories unspool as Gwen spends a gorgeous, restless summer struggling to resolve what she thought was true—about the place she lives, the people she loves, and even herself—with what really is.

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Everyone in Shaker Heights was talking about it that summer: how Isabelle, the last of the Richardson children, had finally gone around the bend and burned the house down.

In Shaker Heights, a placid, progressive suburb of Cleveland, everything is meticulously planned – from the layout of the winding roads, to the colours of the houses, to the successful lives its residents will go on to lead. And no one embodies this spirit more than Elena Richardson, whose guiding principle is playing by the rules.

Enter Mia Warren – an enigmatic artist and single mother – who arrives in this idyllic bubble with her teenage daughter Pearl, and rents a house from the Richardsons. Soon Mia and Pearl become more than just tenants: all four Richardson children are drawn to the alluring mother-daughter pair. But Mia carries with her a mysterious past, and a disregard for the rules that threatens to upend this carefully ordered community.

When the Richardsons’ friends attempt to adopt a Chinese-American baby, a custody battle erupts that dramatically divides the town and puts Mia and Mrs. Richardson on opposing sides. Suspicious of Mia and her motives, Mrs. Richardson becomes determined to uncover the secrets in Mia’s past. But her obsession will come at unexpected and devastating costs to her own family – and Mia’s.

Little Fires Everywhere explores the weight of long-held secrets and the ferocious pull of motherhood-and the danger of believing that planning and following the rules can avert disaster, or heartbreak.

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

To everyone who knows them, best friends Miel and Sam are as strange as they are inseparable. Roses grow out of Miel’s wrist, and rumors say that she spilled out of a water tower when she was five. Sam is known for the moons he paints and hangs in the trees, and for how little anyone knows about his life before he and his mother moved to town. But as odd as everyone considers Miel and Sam, even they stay away from the Bonner girls, four beautiful sisters rumored to be witches. Now they want the roses that grow from Miel’s skin, convinced that their scent can make anyone fall in love. And they’re willing to use every secret Miel has fought to protect to make sure she gives them up.

How to Find Love in a Bookshop by Veronica Henry

The enchanting story of a bookshop, its grieving owner, a supportive literary community, and the extraordinary power of books to heal the heart

Nightingale Books, nestled on the main street in an idyllic little village, is a dream come true for book lovers–a cozy haven and welcoming getaway for the literary-minded locals. But owner Emilia Nightingale is struggling to keep the shop open after her beloved father’s death, and the temptation to sell is getting stronger. The property developers are circling, yet Emilia’s loyal customers have become like family, and she can’t imagine breaking the promise she made to her father to keep the store alive.

There’s Sarah, owner of the stately Peasebrook Manor, who has used the bookshop as an escape in the past few years, but it now seems there’s a very specific reason for all those frequent visits. Next is roguish Jackson, who, after making a complete mess of his marriage, now looks to Emilia for advice on books for the son he misses so much. And the forever shy Thomasina, who runs a pop-up restaurant for two in her tiny cottage–she has a crush on a man she met in the cookbook section, but can hardly dream of working up the courage to admit her true feelings.

Enter the world of Nightingale Books for a serving of romance, long-held secrets, and unexpected hopes for the future–and not just within the pages on the shelves. How to Find Love in a Bookshop is the delightful story of Emilia, the unforgettable cast of customers whose lives she has touched, and the books they all cherish.

♥ ♥ ♥

Buzzword Readathon Recs I’ve Read

Atheists Who Kneel and Pray by Tarryn Fisher

Yara Phillips is a wandering muse.

She dates men who need her, but always moves on to something new, never staying in one place for very long.

David Lisey is in need of a muse.

A talented musician lacking lyrical inspiration. When he first sees her, he knows he’s found what he’s been looking for.

Yara believes she can give David exactly what he needs to reach his full potential: A broken heart.

David’s religion is love.

Yara’s religion is heartache.

Neither is willing to surrender, but religion always requires sacrifice.

The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

Adrift after her sister Bailey’s sudden death, Lennie finds herself torn between quiet, seductive Toby—Bailey’s boyfriend who shares her grief—and Joe, the new boy in town who bursts with life and musical genius. Each offers Lennie something she desperately needs… though she knows if the two of them collide her whole world will explode.

Join Lennie on this heartbreaking and hilarious journey of profound sorrow and mad love, as she makes colossal mistakes and colossal discoveries, as she traipses through band rooms and forest bedrooms and ultimately right into your heart.

As much a celebration of love as a poignant portrait of loss, Lennie’s struggle to sort her own melody out of the noise around her is always honest, often uproarious, and absolutely unforgettable.

Where the Silence Gathers by Kelsey Sutton

In this companion novel to the critically acclaimed Some Quiet Place, Alex must choose between Revenge and Forgiveness.

For as long as she can remember, Alexandra Tate has been able to see personified Emotions, and she’s found a best friend in Revenge. He’s her constant companion as she waits outside Nate Foster’s house, clutching a gun. Every night since Nate’s release from prison, Alex has tried to work up the courage to exact her own justice on him for the drunk driving accident that killed her family.

But there’s one problem: Forgiveness. When he appears, Alex is faced with a choice—moving on or getting even. It’s impossible to decide with Forgiveness whispering in one ear . . . and Revenge whispering in the other.

Buzzword Readathon TBR & Recs! + {New Video} The Buzzword Readathon starts on Monday and I'm SO ready. OK, maybe not SO ready, but kind of ready and also nervous because I have a lot of physical books on my list and only one audio.

#buzzword readathon #recommendation

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