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#they’re the core of the show?? and it feels like radio silence on them sometimes
diamond-vic · 1 year
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Nobody gives the Plantars any attention!!! So I wanted to talk a bit about what Anne does for the Plantars, especially Hop Pop
(hoping this is coherent enough.. I have a good bit to say and a hard time saying it)
Hop Pop is clearly haunted by the death of his grandchildren’s parents (one of whom was his child, who he never speaks of!! Keep this in mind) and this manifests in many different ways in seasons 1 and 2. He worries about what Sprig’s future will be, thinking he can’t deliver a life that Sprig deserves. He keeps Sprig and Polly in the valley for their whole lives, and, even when he finally allows them to leave, enforces strict overbearing rules in the name of keeping them away from dangers, to the detriment of their enjoyment of the trip at all. He clings to the tradition he has always known, even when his grandchildren voice annoyance. And he hides the music box from Anne, even when he knows that it was the key to her arriving in Amphibia and so likely her key back home.
I’ve said it before, but the way that Sprig calls out to Anne for comfort from his nightmare before his grandfather, and the way he speaks to Anne about his mom in Hopping Mall comes across as if he has never voiced his insecurities about forgetting his mother before, and is more comfortable voicing them to her than he is his blood family (to me, at least; it’s definitely a bit of an interpretation, but it is in line with what we see of the Plantars). When After The Rain tells the story of how Sprig and Polly’s parents died, both young frogs try to stop Hop Pop from going on, Sprig even telling him how ‘that wasn’t your fault’. Hop Pop ignores them and goes on to tell Anne how their parents were killed in a heron attack when he was journeying outside the valley, and that he is sure that had he been there, he’d have saved them.
This is where my ‘keep this in mind’ from earlier comes back. Throughout the entire show, the Plantars never mention the absence of the middling generation whatsoever until Hopping Mall. Not Hoppop, not Polly, nor Sprig, who clearly has guilt over not remembering his parents fully in Hopping Mall. It seems as if the topic became sort of a taboo within the house nearly entirely, and with Hop Pop’s admittance that he believes their deaths are on his back, the overall behavior of Hop Pop and Sprig’s specifically in Hopping Mall makes much more sense.
None of the Plantars want to discuss what happened and how it still was hurting them all. Sprig, afraid of hurting Hop Pop by reminding him of his guilt, keeps his uncertainties to himself, as Polly likely doesn’t remember their parents enough for him to confide in her, and he doesn’t want to burden his younger sister anyway. Hop Pop never speaks of his own child, but their death haunts his mind, and he is determined to ensure that he never drops his vigilance and never fails to protect his family again. He stops them from doing reckless things, yes, but he also keeps them from just being kids. He refuses to let go of the past, both from when he was young, and the deaths he feels he caused. He never brings them outside the valley, or leaves himself- how could he, when a journey outside the valley contributed to the death of his grandchildren’s parents? Collectively, the Plantars simply never really heal and move on from their losses. They don’t allow themselves to confront that it happened and go on living afterward.
Everything changes for them when Anne comes to Amphibia. The Plantars, and especially Hop Pop, teach Anne the value of working hard and help her build her character, of course; but SHE also helps the Plantars loosen up and live again. It is often Anne that incites Sprig and Polly to challenge the way Hop Pop acts, and it is her journey to Newtopia that makes him realize that he is being too hard on them all.
It is when Anne learns Hop Pop hid the music box from her, even knowing how much it meant to her and how it was her key home, that Hop Pop is forced to confront that his fear-fueled actions have devastating consequences on the people he was trying to protect. He made the choice of Sprig and Polly over Anne, and even if he regrets it and wishes to take it back, he can’t just pretend that the reason he did it erases what he did. Even when Anne forgives them, the two still need time to truly heal past that. But they do heal past it!
It isn’t hard to see how Hop Pop, who has been trying to ignore the event up to now, takes a big step when he truly acknowledges how that event caused this major choice he made. Hop Pop loves his family beyond all else, and he is willing to change his ways for the good of them. He already makes a step towards listening to his grandkids in early season 1, when he starts reading the suggestions they make rather than just burning them. While this is, of course, exaggerated for comedic effect, the point still stands for his tendency to cast away and ignore what he doesn’t want to hear, only to learn from it and become a better listener after when faced with consequences. There’s no reason to think that, seeing how his actions effected Anne, Hop Pop wouldn’t evaluate how he could have been hurting Sprig and Polly and make moves toward helping them heal with him.
Overall, it’s Anne’s appearance that begins to shift the Plantars out of their standstill in life and allows them to exist beyond the way they’d been living for years. Anne violently shakes things up for the family and makes everyone adapt to the new status quo her presence brings. Sprig gets his first true friend, Polly connects to another person after seemingly being secluded her whole life, and Hop Pop becomes less rigid in his views and more willing to allow his family to be more free and open. While it is disingenuous to say that the Plantars weren’t happy at all between the middle generation’s deaths and Anne’s arrival, she certainly quite literally forces them to have a different view on life, and pushes Hop Pop to focus on what is present rather than what could have been and what is gone (‘It's time for this old frog to stop pining after what he doesn't have, and start seriously protecting the things he does’)
This found family is absolutely bonkers don’t you see
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lenteur · 10 months
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random thoughts about run on, episode seven
(please do note that this post contains spoilers so read at your own risk.)
one thing’s for sure in this episode: the scenery is beautiful, especially bang bae jeong’s house
talking about bang bae jeong, i’m so happy they showed more of her throughout the years. it was interesting to see how she influenced ki seon gyeom. 
the greatest example is a flashback of bae jeong beating up a colleague (seon gyeom’s coach) because he kept making advances at her. she wasn’t afraid of using violence to protect herself, even if that meant no longer being a coach
like mi joo pointed out, she didn’t quit on her own accord, she was forced out (because of the incident mentioned in previous point) so maybe she’ll come back to teach the kids? i don’t know but i’m curious to see how this will evolve in the future
guys. my otp is yeong hwa x seon gyeom 💗 they’re so cute and funny together. i’m glad they’re getting scenes together
“you sweet man. now i want to take advantage of you.” yeong hwa is an idiot, but he’s my idiot
park may is also one of my favorite characters. she’s the best middleman/hypewoman (don’t ask me what i meant by that, i understand myself and that’s what matters the most lol)
i really like that we get to see a lot of seon gyeom’s family in this show because we can understand as time goes by how complicated it is to grow up in such an environment. you see ki jeong do (father) using his wife and daughter’s achievements for his own fame & reputation. but with seon gyeom, nothing... radio silence. that’s why he resents his son even more. because he can’t create the perfect father & son picture with him
going back to the beginning of the episode when mi joo called seon gyeom a baby, and talking to bang bae jeong about how naive he is. and then, mi joo compares seon gyeom to translating (which earns bonus points from me because i like a show that puts translation at its core). he is harder to understand than a 2 hour foreign movie. and that says a lot about their relationship. mi joo is trying her hardest to understand such an odd character (aka seon gyeom) but sometimes, no matter how much effort she puts in, it’s almost impossible to understand him. giving the scenarist (is that what they’re called?) lots of 💓 for that
this post is a mess i’m sorry for whoever might read this 💔
some of my favorite scenes are the ones between seon gyeom and his father. now that he (seon gyeom) has finally made the decision on his own, you can see how he has evolved because now he’s honest with his father. he tells him the truth straight to his face.
“the problem is you” (seon gyeom to his father) / “it’s my life father” / “do you think this entire family is some kind of tool you can use to your own advantage?” / “stop using me as the means to fulfill your dream” some statements that can only be the truth
seon gyeom running then adjusting his pace so he can walk in rhythm with mi joo 💖
seon gyeom coaching the kids was so cute. you can see he’s still fairly new to it and is a little bit “nervous” (i want to use another word but can’t find it) and then you see bang bae jeong coming in and saving the day :)
that shot of dan ah and yeong hwa being still while everything around them moves quickly was beautiful 💕
yook ji woo’s face when she sees her husband coming out of nowhere was hilarious 🤣🤣🤣 i feel you madam
mi joo standing up to ki jeong do and choosing to take seon gyeom with her was such a cool moment. i want more of it!
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Yeah I'm honestly a bit surprised by how passionate and vocal people are about hating twenty one pilots? It's kinda upsetting that when I try to interact with content about them I'm always a bit worried in the back of my mind because I'm a pretty sensitive person and it's hard not to let stuff get to me.
I don’t know why it’s always felt like twenty one pilots has gotten a ton of hate for no reason? I’ve been into them since 2013-2014 so pure unadulterated vessel era, I’m a very old fan of them and their music, like one of the oldest picture in my phone is this
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(This picture isn’t important I just love it, plus something fun to look at with a not so fun subject material)
(Long history as a fan rant incoming lol)
I’ve been an emo kid for a really long time, back when all of the emo bands were big, when seeing another kid wearing a panic! shirt always meant you talked to them in the mall, I still remember when I would wear the one twenty one pilots shirt I could afford outside, that anyone who knew who they were would come up and start a conversation with me
And it’s like through the years the hate has changed to be... somehow worse
Back in the early days tøp used to get called not a true emo band because they didn’t have anyone playing the guitar so everyone hated them because they weren’t emo Enough
Plus there was the whole ‘emo trinity’ ‘emo quartet’ infighting nonsense but that’s so long past idk if anyone even remembers it lol
Then blurryface rolls around and fans are being made fun of for dressing funky and going through that one fandom phase where everyone was calling the boys smol beans it was great and cute, we were all really close, we called each other frens, told each other to stay street it was great! So what people made fun of us or whatever we were absolutely vibing
Twenty one pilots felt like the coolest secret gang of fans, we were absolutely huge, more so than most people would think, and man it was awesome!! If you saw a tøp fan you knew that you were cool with that person and that person would be cool with you!! It was amazing!! Sometimes I do miss this vibe!!
But then Stressed Out ended up on the radio...
I feel like it really all changed here, all of the sudden the old fandom things were cringy, the boys were sell outs, and every family member you knew was suddenly the biggest fan despite only knowing stressed out
I remember being upset around this time because of strangers invading my space, this was my group, filled with people who understood what the lyrics meant and knew and understood how much they meant to all of us, and suddenly it was filled with people who didn’t belong
I didn’t blame the pilot boys, obviously they can’t control what’s on the radio, I’m fact, there’s plenty of pilot songs that mention never being played on the radio because of one reason or another, so my problem was never with the boys, it was with the influx of new people, and by new people I don’t mean new fans, I mean news outlets and tv show host, and with that influx came the people who didn’t get it, you know? That were rude and outright nasty and refused to understand anything about the genre and effort put into the story and why it mattered to us
(Tw for suicide mention, and uncomfortable themes involving people making fun of themes involving it, tw for mentions of school shootings)
All of the sudden we were the fans of Tyler Joseph the man who ‘Glorifies Suicide’ and actively is supposedly encouraging that behavior
We were the cringy fans everyone knew in high school and hated who were described as being ‘JuSt So QuIrkY 🤪’, instead of the mentally ill kids we all were, by people who hated us
We were the fans of those ‘white boys who look like school shooters’ (this one honestly rocked me to my core, it still hurts to even see??? Like idk why but it almost makes me want to cry)
At the same time a lot of the old fans were turning their back on the pilots, they didn’t want to be involved anymore, they hated ALL of the new fans whether they were respectful or not
It was a REALLY hard time to be a new fan, very few people were open to having them involved in anything, I think this is when a lot of hatred happened in the fandom not only fan-fan fighting/hatred but also fan-band sentiments weren’t great either
The more songs that ended up on the radio the more the hatred grew, in fact this got so bad Tyler did this
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Here’s a transcript in case it’s hard to hear
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Like... this was the state of our fan group.... it was suddenly cool to hate all the songs that ended up on the radio so much it affected every part of our music journey
There was a lot of infighting, it was an awful time to be a fan, new or old
Then came silence era, in which every tøp blog I followed except like 2, became kpop blogs and I’m not sure any of them ever came back lol, I actually really disliked kpop because of this for a bit in like a jokey kind of way in my own head lol (ahh how the turn tables have turned... kpop and tøp are the only things I listen to now haha, actually because of all my tøp mutuals becoming kpop blogs I vowed to myself to not change this blog to another group so I have two music blogs now, which makes me laugh but also shows how important music is to me so it makes me happy anyways you know?)
It was kind of a sad way to have the fandom disappear, everything was strangled, the boys were gone, and no one kept up with the fandom, it felt really lonely
When Trench era clues started back people started coming back, the mood was different, we had something to do and it was fun to work on something with others, we had the Clancy letters, and all the clues, and the tower of silence and the vultures!! It was great! It started to feel like we had rebuilt something from the rubble of what we had been
The fandom started calling Tyler stinky and he called us b*stards it was great, sometimes people were a bit meaner than I think they thought they were being, but it worked you know?
When the album released we had more people come back and things slowly started fitting back ok again, more songs ended up on the radio and a lot of older fans said the same things they’re saying now, but it wasn’t that bad, it was mostly very positive
And then we got to the over the summer drama, which........... is a sensitive subject, but I legitimately do not understand how it was Tyler’s fault that people assumed he was talking about something when he wasn’t talking about it at all... especially when people have been begging him for years to talk more about mental health, he wanted to introduce whatever he was going to do with a joke, I personally never though he was talking about the big issue at the time of the incident, but it blew up like wildfire and the next thing you know he’s canceled because Other People Assumed Something
So now it’s ‘Morally Justifiable’ to hate Tyler because he’s r*cist or something, despite it never being his intention and because people assumed something
It’s literally not even with good reason that people are doing this, but because it blew up when it did and about what it did, no one knows what really happened and people just wanted a morally justified reason to hate them because you can’t just dislike something anymore without it being justifiable I guess? I feel like with all of the years I’ve spent on the internet everything has only become more hateful...
All this to say.... yes, it hurts when people hate the things that you do, I get really sensitive about it as well, especially with how long and how many arguments I’ve seen, and I am extremely sensitive to discourse and hatred, it’s why I don’t engage with much of it online, in fact I was about to delete the post complaining about everyone hating on them before I saw it was really resonating with you guys
I guess my best advice to you anon, would to try to understand where it’s coming from, that’s what’s helped me, I know a lot of people dislike the pilots because of the fact that they became ‘mainstream’ during blurryface era, and people are really upset by that, so understanding that, even when it hurts, I can acknowledge that they feel that way and that it’s ok that I feel differently
It’s easy to take that point and test it against your own morals, ‘do I think twenty one pilots became mainstream, or only makes songs to get on the radio?’ If your answer is no, then you can both say ‘I don’t agree with them but they’re allowed to have their own opinion’ and kind of give yourself a wall and barrier against what they say
I know this isn’t perfect advice, but it’s helped me a lot
I know there are two big arguments against this album, that it’s mainstream and made to have radio singles (the underlying argument here I guess being Tyler and Josh are money hungry and no longer care about the music)
And that it’s no longer lyrically meaningful, but I think this has to do a lot with how involved people are in the Dema lore, if you’re not a fan of lore I would imagine this album being propaganda and supposed to be fake and bright to prove a point would really bug you if you didn’t really get it
To best thing to do is digest an argument (only if you can handle it emotionally of course 🖤) and know it’s ok that think differently than other people, and that the chances of someone being mad at you are very slim
A lot of things I’ve enjoyed have been stolen by the fear of getting hated on for something - while in actuality, the very few times I’ve gotten real hate over something barely affected me
I admit the fear of getting hate bothers me a lot more than actually getting it, but I just want to encourage you to stay strong in the face of it, it will pass, as it all does, but if nothing else in this post resonates with you, PLEASE HOLD ONTO YOUR JOY FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN! And don’t let ANYONE take it from YOU!!
If twenty one pilots makes you happy, just remember that the only person who can take that true joy away from you is yourself, remove the people who make you feel sad out of your life, I apologize if this is a physical person in your life as this makes it a lot harder, and sometimes impossible depending on the situation, but on the internet unfollow anyone, block anyone, don’t engage and leave them alone, it’s not with your energy or effort, and they’ll never change their minds but they can change yours you know?
Being sensitive in a time when everything is hateful is hard, especially when everyone tells you you’re a bad person if you aren’t engaged, but you really don’t have to be, you get to choose your own destiny you know? Don’t let other people choose it for you
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holeyweasel · 3 years
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༄ daniel padilla, cismale, he/him + the color orange, impressive explosions, fireworks in the night sky, trolley carts ignited into flames, graffiti on stop signs, and quivering palms concealed by a nifty hand-buzzer. – is that george weasley ? their ministry records say that they are twenty-five , a pureblood , and went to hogwarts . currently they are the owner of weasley’s wizard wheezes . whenever i see them saintlike by jakey starts playing in my head. i think this may be because they’re astute & whimsical , but they also happen to be deviant & reticent . (       BIOGRAPHY. | PINTEREST. | PLAYLIST.     )
TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL & SUBSTANCE ABUSE / ALLUSIONS TO ALCOHOLISM.
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basics .
name & origin : george felix weasley ; based on the Greek word georgos; meaning farmer. the word georgos is a combo of two Greek words, ge (γῆ), meaning earth, soil, and ergon (ἔργον), meaning work. && george doesn't apply much of a personal meaning to his name; perhaps molly was following the trend of her late, twin brothers, gideon & fabian, or maybe it'd just been a coincidence. george doesn't know; it's possible he never will, since molly doesn't talk about her brothers that have passed too often. nicknames : forge, fred, georgie, gred, twin #2, & weasel. preferred name : george is fine. age & birthdate : twenty-five ; april first. gender & pronouns : cis male ; he/him. orientation : straight ; heteroflexible ; questioning. ethnicity & nationality : filipino ; english. hometown : ottery st. catchpole, devon, england. current residence : the loft above number ninty-three diagon alley. occupation : owner & operator of weasley’s wizard wheezes. hogwarts house / school graduated from : gryffindor.
miscellaneous .
phobias : he can’t be alone, because when he is, that’s when he gets into more compromising situations. he excessively relies on others to fulfill his own emotional needs (eg. fred, specifically) his codependency to fred ran, and continues to run, so deep that even his level of confidence changes without his brother around. he needs fred around to feel okay with himself. he fears being rejected and abandoned as lone unit; rather than the one collective unit he was with fred. quirks : when disinterested in something, doesn’t put the effort in; rarely expresses his true emotions unless it’s through anger; jokes so much it’s hard to tell when he’s being serious; sometimes doesn’t realize when a joke has gone too far & unintentionally hurts people’s feelings. when his emotions are too much to handle, can act rashly, and do something stupid; he often winds up in trouble since he couldn’t careless what others think. also he’s not great at overly complicated math. fred was better at math, while george is better at reading/writing/words in general. basic addition and subtraction is fine, but once you get to double digits? oof. he uses his fingers to count. hobbies : comforting others & giving advice anonymously, creating his own spells & potion recipes, dueling, inventing things, quidditch beating, quick-wit, speed reading, stand-up comedy; there’s never a dull moment with him; he’s always able to entertain an audience and make people laugh. likes : adventures, biscuits, breaking things, causing chaos & confusion, conjuring up ideas & schemes, creating inventions, discovering new things, explosions, fireworks, flashing lights, freedom, friendly debates, hippos, irony, jokes, laughter, memes, mum’s home-cooked meals, parkour, philosophy, petty arson, punching things, puns, quidditch, quotes, rebellion, rioting, sweaters, & unlimited knowledge. dislikes : being alone, being controlled, boredom, commitment, conformists, copycats, cucumbers, disloyalty, early mornings, feelings that aren’t joy, grapefruits, hypocrites (ironically), instant tea, judgmental people, ordinary living, pocket watches, purists, restrictions, school, sellouts, silence, sitting still, spinach, the government, the rich, the status quo, & unnecessary rules. wand :  10 ¾ inches ; dogwood ; dragon heartstring core. patronus : previously, his was a magpie; along with fred’s. since fred’s death, he struggled to conjure one for many years, but eventually was able to - and it’s now a peacock.  boggart : him, completely and utterly alone. without fred or just without anyone in general? the world may never know. reverse amortentia : burning cedar, broom polish, firewhiskey, freshly baked biscuits, & roasted chestnuts.
history .
➵ the fifth son born to arthur & molly weasley right after his twin brother, fred, george was practically born a prankster & inventor. after graduation, he planned to become a successful entrepreneur. from birth, both him & fred were attached at the hip; getting into all sorts of shenanigans together. not much has really changed regarding that. growing up, they successfully set off a dungbomb during christmas dinner, turned ron’s teddy bear into a spider after he broke fred’s toy broomstick, gave ron an acid pop that burnt a hole in his tongue, and nearly tricked ron into taking an unbreakable vow. ➵ during his first year, him and fred swiped the marauder’s map from filch’s desk; this aided more in their mischief. ➵ george, while not being a hat stall, could definitely have been a fair candidate for slytherin with his ambitious & cunning nature — if only he wasn’t a red-headed, reckless weasley. ➵ this curious boi might have a teeny, tiny case of undiagnosed ADHD. he definitely exhibits all of the symptoms; he’s never gotten officially checked out, though.  ➵ second year, he joined the quidditch team as beater. at one point, ron informed harry that george received ”really good marks” for his first few years. ➵ the summer before his fourth year, he stole arthur’s ford anglia with fred and ron. this was in order to rescue harry from the dursley’s and bring him to the burrow. ➵ the summer after fourth year, george went on a trip with his family to visit bill in egypt. with fred, of course, he tried to push percy into a pyramid. ➵ fifth year, he & fred graciously gifted harry the marauder’s map since they’d already memorized it. ➵ sixth year, he attended the quidditch world cup with his family, harry, & hermione. he and fred gambled on the outcome & won a great deal of money from ludo bagman. however, they were never paid, and harassed bagman all year. fred wanted to inform the ministry; george was against it since that’s considered blackmail. after harry won the triwizard tournament, he gifted fred & george his winnings to make up for their lost bet. they put this money away with the intention to invest it into their future joke shop. this is also the year they began selling their inventions and he took his ordinary wizarding level exams; received 3 OWLs in, what’s assumed, charms, defense against the dark arts, & transfiguration. ➵ seventh year, he spent the summer before school at 12 grimmauld place. after being given harry’s winnings, george had no interest in returning to school, but did anyway. he spent most of the year selling his and fred’s products. he also joined dumbledore’s army; not being a huge fan of umbridge. ➵ later that year, umbridge kicked him, harry, and fred off the quidditch team after george & harry got into a fight with draco malfoy. once the DA was discovered, george decided with fred, that he didn’t care about getting in trouble, and they began an all-out rebellion. they shoved an inquisitorial squad member into a vanishing cabinet, set off an array of fireworks that they made themselves, & created a portable swamp in the corridor. after the vandalism & chaos, george flew away from hogwarts with his brother; encouraging others, and peeves, to follow their example. ➵ after fleeing the castle, george worked with fred to establish a weasley’s wizard wheezes storefront. the summer before the golden trio set off for their sixth year, they had their grand opening. they remained open in diagon alley even while growing tensions of the war ensued. draco malfoy even purchased peruvian instant darkness powder from their shop, which assisted him during the battle of the astronomy tower. in theory, the twins unknowingly helped the death eaters twice, but we don’t have to unpack all that right now. ➵ him & fred lived in a loft above their shop. ➵ sometime after turning of age, george joined the order and assisted them during the battle of the seven potters. he was paired with remus lupin, and sometime during this mission, snape hit him with sectumsepra. he lost his ear and it was unable to be healed due to being cut off with dark magic. ➵ the burrow operated as a new headquarters for the order until they were ambushed by death eaters and they had to flee. ➵ george & fred were frequent guests on lee jordan’s radio show: potterwatch. ➵ george was hit with snape’s sectumsepmra curse and ended up losing his left ear. since it was dark magic, his injury wasn’t able to be repaired. he has permanent hearing loss and a scar where his ear used to be. he’s picked up BSL (british sign language) since the incident.  ➵ he split up from the rest of his family after the death eater ambush, but remained with fred. him & fred were apart of lee jordan’s radio broadcast, potterwatch, so it’s assumed they were with lee in some way. ➵ there was an incident where george, alone, was taken in front of the wizengamot while fred had stepped out for the afternoon. he was brought on charges of aiding and abetting the mass breakout of muggleborn criminals. supposedly, they had items sold at weasley’s wizard wheezes that’d aided in their ultimate escape. ➵ questioned & tortured at the hand of umbridge, they almost sent him off to azkaban… but the department of magical law enforcement requested time to gather more evidence to build a stronger case of george’s involvement. his blood status wasn’t in question, and therefore, he was free to go. ➵ during the battle of hogwarts, george lost his twin brother, fred, in an explosion orchestrated by augustus rookwood. the years that followed were absolutely the hardest thing he’d ever gone through.  ➵ upon fred’s demise, george might have taken up a biiit of a drinking problem. while it hasn’t entirely taken over his life, some would definitely consider him a “functioning alcoholic.”  ➵ depending on a potential charlie mun, after fred’s funeral, george followed charlie to romania in order to “travel” and “find himself” without fred able to stand by his side anymore.  he eventually stole a dragon from charlie and took it across the world. goooo georgie! he returned about a year after fred’s funeral initially took place. ➵ for quite some time, george struggled to conjure a patronus. with all of his “happy memories” linked to fred, the charm became quite difficult for him to perform. of course, george is a determined individual; he continued to try anyways.  ➵ eventually, two years after fred’s passing, george was able to cast a patronus. although, instead of a cheery magpie revealing itself, a peacock took its place. this was significant because, slowly but surely, george was beginning to detach his identity from fred. ➵ george continued to build the business he’d started with his late brother. these days, he fills his time with work; occupying his mind with weasley’s wizard wheezes instead of the void fred’s passing left within him.
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beneathstarryskies · 4 years
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Dumb and Arrogant (Ash Williams x Reader)
Pairing: Ash Williams x Reader
Word Count: 1,739
Summary: Y/N has had a crush on Ash for a while, and you have a feeling it’s mutual. Being alone for the first time allows this to be explored.
Warnings: Smut, Implied age difference
A/N: I hope you guys like it. :) 
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 You want him so badly it’s fucking embarrassing. He’s dumb and arrogant. He makes the worst jokes all the time. He had no real sense of integrity. Yet none of that seems to dull the feelings you have for him. All the lust filled urges you only let enter your mind when you’re alone.
You think it has something to do with how different he is when slaying deadites. It allows you to see past the dumb pervy Ash Williams you’s known since they were working together at S-Mart. The combination of brute force and a strong will being displayed while covered in blood was a completely different person. Yet there are times when the man can be downright charming.
You mull this over while sipping a beer on the steps leading into the garage. He leans over the open hood of the Delta doing some maintenance work you know he explained but you weren't listening. He had asked you to come out to “help” but you've done exactly zero helping of any kind. You hum along to the old rock song he is playing on the radio. The fact that Pablo and Kelly have left the house for groceries adds an extra layer of intimacy to the moment because you know with a word you could have him right now.
“Why don’t you get me a beer, sweetheart?” Ash asks, standing up straight.
He wipes the grease of his hands with an old towel while he speaks. You raise an eyebrow and look down at the cooler sitting just a few feet in front of him. Ash is pretty lazy, but is he really going to be this lazy?
“They’re in the cooler,” you answer.
He smirks, “But I want you to get it for me.”
The realization hits you like a train. You feel the warmth spreading through your core. You stand up slowly, and your bare feet pad against the floor as you walk. He watches with a satisfied smile. You get to the cooler, and turn your back to him. Then, taking more time than necessary, you bend over. You hear a groan escape him, and a large hand comes to rest on your ass. You open the cooler, pretending not to notice as you fish out another beer. You stand up straight.
You hum in acknowledgement as his hand lowers, rubbing at your core through your shorts. You rock your hips gently against his hand. He manages to find your clit, and the beer is dropped onto the ground. The glass bursts, spewing beer all over the floor.
“I knew you wanted this,” he whispers in your ear before nibbling on your neck.
He takes his hand away from you and turns you around to face him. you lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. You press your lips against his, tasting the beer he’s already had on his lips. His hand tangles in your hair while the other arm wraps around your waist to pull him closer. Ash is a good kisser, which is somehow not surprising. He’s tender and warm, which is surprising.
You know he had a knack for picking up girls in bars, but how long has it been since he fucked someone he actually knows? For the last year or so they’ve eaten, lived, and slayed deadites together. This moment has had plenty of time to build.
Ash pulls away both of them slightly out of breath. You want to fall on your knees in front of him, eager to satisfy every curiosity you’ve had about him. But this whim is quickly erased from your mind when Ash suddenly sweeps you up in his arms, your legs coming to wrap around his waist.
“What are you doing?'' you ask as he begins walking towards the door.
“A girl like you deserves the bedroom,” he whispers. “But someone just had to decide to break a beer bottle while not wearing shoes.”
You laugh, but also melt at the sweet gesture. You pepper kisses along his jawline as he walks. He begins struggling a little bit going up the steps.
“You know, I can take it from here. The glass is only in the garage.”
“No, I got it.”
He stubbornly manages to get into the house, and leans you against the counter in the kitchen for a moment to catch his breath.
“You know, I can walk?”
“Ash Williams doesn’t give up,” he insists before pressing a kiss to your lips again.
“We’ve had to stop you from giving up so many times.”
He groans, “You always have to have the last word.”
You smile, “But that’s why you like me.”
He doesn’t say anything despite the warm feeling in his chest. Instead he lifts you up from the counter. This time he manages to make it all the way to the bedroom and he drops you onto his bed. You laugh as he crawls over your, only to be silenced by the intense need showing in his dark eyes. He leans down to kiss you again before tugging at your shirt exposing your soft flesh. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you feel his hot breath trail across your chest. You lean up enough to help him get it over your head, and he discards it to the side. His lips begin trailing down your neck, leading to your breasts. His tongue flicks over each rosebud pink nipple before he continues his trail downwards. He tugs off the little red shorts you’d been flaunting around in all day.
“No panties, you saucy little thing you,” he teases you.
Your already flushed face turns another shade darker.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I never wear panties.”
“That’s good to know.”
He leaves a bite on your inner thigh, then sucking the same spot. He stops to admire the mark he’s left before placing a kiss on it. His hands tease your slit enjoying how wet you already are before he begins rubbing your clit in achingly slow circles. He buries his head between your thighs, his tongue teasing your hot entrance while his fingers continue working your sensitive nub. He relishes in every moan he teases out of you. Your hands come to tangle in his hair, and his name falls from your lips like a prayer as waves of pleasure begin rolling over your body. The bubble that had been building inside of you bursts, and you cry out in pleasure. Ash drapes his right arm across your waist to hold your down while he continues to taste your. you takes a few deep, shaking breaths.
“Shit,” you mutter.
Ash smiles proudly, “That’s right.”
He tugs his shirt off, and you reach up to undo his pants, finally releasing his erection. He stands up at the end of the bed to kick them off before crawling back on top of your. Your mouths crash together once more. You can taste your sweetness on his lips. He reaches down between them, and teases your entrance with the head of his member. You raise your hips, hoping to entice him. Instead he gets that dumb look on his face.
“What do you want?” he asks with a smirk. 
How can he smirk at a time like this?
“Ash,” you whine.
He pulls away from you, taking away the warmth of his body pressed against you, “You have to say it.”
“I want you,” you concede.
With a satisfied smile he puyous himself inside of your. You let out a small whine, not expecting how much he would stretch you out.
“Hold on, baby,” he presses a kiss against your lips. He pulls your knee up to his waist to allow himself more access while allowing you to adjust. He pulls out then pushing back inside of you, watching your face for any signs of discomfort, “Better?”
You nod, “Much better.”
He repeats the motion of pulling all the way out, then pushing himself back in steadily increasing how hard he slams into you. Your moans only serve to motivate him. He finds a steady pace, and soon you're moving your hips to match each thrust. One of your hands tangles in his hair while the otyour presses against his chest. You beg him not to stop, and he’s determined to oblige for as long as he can. You pull him into a deep kiss as you feel your climax beginning to build.
“I’m so close,” you whimper.
His thrusts become deeper and harder. Finally, he pushes you over the edge. You let out a series of “fucks” as he continues fucking your through your climax. He comes to his own orgasm a few moments later, pulling out just in time to spill all over your thighs and stomach. He moves to lay down beside your, both of them breathing shallowly as they try to catch their breaths.
“Man, we should’ve started doing that way sooner,” he comments.
You laugh, “I agree.”
He watches as you get up from the bed and walks to his bathroom. He hears the shower start, and he goes to his drawers to fish out one of his t-shirts. Ash feels soft and dumb as he walks to the bathroom, but somehow can’t bring himself to care. He sets the shirt on the counter next to your towel.
“Hey, I brought you a shirt you can wear when you’re finished in there.”
“Thanks,” you peak around the shower curtain with a smile, “What about we conserve some water?”
Ash feels that same warm, soft, dumb feeling in his chest but steps forward to get in the shower. He’s surprised when you pull him closer. He’s just about to explain that round two is difficult to achieve sometimes when he realizes you're resting your head on his chest, humming softly as the warm water falls on them. The warm feeling in his chest persists.
“If you want, you can hang out for a little while. Maybe we could watch a movie or something.”
You lift your head from his chest with a knowing smirk, “Ash, I live youre.”
“No,” he realizes you’re just trying to make him say it. He sighs, “I mean with me. You can specifically hang out with me.”
“Because?”
Ash sighs, “I like you.”
And he does like you, a lot actually. He catches himself having those warm, soft feelings around you almost all the time. 
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Text
Lost Souls: Story 9
The Ones We Hail -part 2
Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides  that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young  James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.
Barbara  is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her  efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to  her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society  of shapeshifters.
Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.
AO3 - Fanfiction
~~~~
Kanjigar was alert as he walked through the emerald lit caverns. Merlin had assured him that as he was invited he would be perfectly safe but the place still stank of magic. It radiated from the very stone under his feet. One could never be too careful around sorcery.
Eventually he reached an intricately carved wooden door.
He lifted his hand and knocked, careful to not scratch the wood with his knuckles. Nothing. He knocked again. There was no answer. With a frown he tried the handle and found it to be unlocked.
The cave behind the door was well lit by candles and crystals and a warm fire. Scrolls were spread haphazardly across the sturdy oaken table in the center of the room and piled on top of each other on shelves carved into the wall. Jars of herbs and other things were mixed in with the scrolls. A gnome skull grinned at him from the mantle of the fireplace.
“Master Merlin?” Kanjigar called out as he took a step in.
Still no response. The thick red-brown rug muffled his steps.
Had the wizard forgotten about him? He didn’t want to be disrespectful but in the short time he’d known him, Merlin did seem a little… well… absent minded.
Kanjigar glanced at the fire. Merlin couldn’t be gone too far if he’d left a fire going. Of course there was the possibility it was sustained by magic…
A quiet shuffling noise drew the troll’s attention. He looked across the table and then blinked in surprise. There, peering warily from just over the edge of the table, was a pair of bright blue eyes topped with an unruly mop of black hair.
It was a child. A human child.
They let out a yelp when their eyes met his and ducked back under the table.
Kanjigar’s nostrils flared in surprise.
What was a child doing here?
“Ah! There you are.”
Kanjigar startled at Merlin’s voice. He glanced back and saw him just coming in from the tunnels. How he had managed to open the door without Kanjigar hearing he wasn’t sure.
“I’m afraid it will be a while yet before your charm is ready,” The wizards said as he started setting his bags down on the table. The scents of various herbs wafted into the air as he jostled them. “I have had more pressing matters to deal with and I am lacking ingredients. Perhaps you can find some of the rarer ones for me.”
“Why is there a child here?” Kanjigar asked.
He didn’t like to interrupt but he was very puzzled.
Merlin blinked at him for a moment, before understanding appeared on his face.
“Oh you mean James.”
He looked around with a frown.
“Where has that boy gotten off to?”
“I’m here,” A soft voice said from the far side of the table.
The boy’s head poked up just enough that he could see Kanjigar before he vanished again.
“Why are you hiding?” Merlin asked with a huff. “Come out and greet the Trollhunter properly. You have nothing to fear.”
“The Trollhunter?” The boy, James, poked his head up again, eyes wide. “He’s the Trollhunter?”
Evidently Merlin had told him about him.
Kanjigar slowly moved around the table. James watched him warily but didn’t hide again. Was this his first time meeting a troll? If it was he was taking it really well.
Kanjigar glanced around noticing that there were a lot of scrolls about troll history and rudimentary knowledge of the magical world lying among the more complicated texts.
It clinked. This must be Merlin’s new apprentice. Kanjigar gave the boy an appraising glance over. James shifted nervously under his gaze, blue eyes flickering to the side. He looked like he was barely out of welphood. A mere youngling. If he had been a troll his parents would have been still keeping him close.
Kanjigar frowned. He had never understood why humans would send their children off so young, but they had always been strange creatures.
He approached James. Once he was about two paces away Kanjigar stopped and knelt to the boy’s level.
“Hello Young James, I am Kanjigar son of Terragar. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
The boy stared at him with wide eyes. His gaze snagged on the amulet hung around his neck for a moment, before he looked at Merlin uncertainly.
“Go on and introduce yourself, boy,” Merlin said.
James looked back at Kanjigar again and took a nervous step forward and then another. The troll held himself still so as to not startle him. Finally James stood in front of him.
He held out a quivering hand toward Kanjigar in what the troll recognized was an invitation to shake hands. Another odd human custom.
“I’m Jim… son of Barbara,” The boy said haltingly. “Nice to meet you?”
Kanjigar carefully took the small hand and moved it up and down once.
“Well met young Jim,” He said.
He gave the boy a gentle smile, careful to not show his teeth.
James’… Jim’s eyes studied Kanjigar’s face. The boy’s shoulders relaxed just slightly and he smiled back.
~~~~
“Kanjigar!!!!”
The Trollhunter chuckled as the tiny fleshbag launched himself at him.
“Hello young Jim,” He said as he caught the boy mid-air.
“Are you going to stay for a while?” The boy asked as he squirmed in the troll’s hands. “Did you bring me anything? Did you have any cool fights? What the weather doing outside? Did it snow? Did you make a snowman?” He let out a little excited gasp. “Or a snowtroll?! Do trolls make snowtrolls?”
Kanjigar laughed, eyes crinkling as warm amusement course through him. The boy had been rather shy at first but now, after several months of visits to Merlin’s cave, the young human had gotten quite comfortable with him.
“Perhaps if you quieted for a moment you might get some answers.”
The boy bit his lip and stared up at him with bright eyes. Kanjigar could feel him quivering. He chuckled again. Jim reminded him a lot of Draal when he was a youngling. So eager and excitable.
He shoved down the quiet pang in his core when a memory of Draal’s disappointed face from the last time they’d talked flickered through his mind. It was for the best, he reminded himself.
He set Jim down on one of the chairs and the boy immediately began pestering him with more questions.
“So what has Merlin been teaching you?” He asked when the boy finally stopped to catch his breath.
Jim frowned slightly and brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“He’s been teaching me about the … Gum-Gum Wars.”
Kanjigar frowned at that.
“That must be a scary. Those were dark times.”
Jim nodded, slightly.
“Merlin says it’s important.”
“I see.”
There was a moment of silence.
“So what have you been doing when you are not learning?” Now that he thought about it Kanjigar hadn’t seen any toys in the cave, on any of his visits, but they were likely kept in another room. The vigorous play of children did not mix well with delicate things like potions and scrolls.
Jim looked down and picked at his fingers.
“Not much,” He said with a shrug finally. “Merlin says I can use the training room, but all the swords are too big. I don’t get to go outside so sometimes I explore in the tunnel… It’s kind of creepy though. Merlin gave me an old scroll to draw on. I’m not supposed to draw on the other ones. He wasn’t happy when I did that. He says the new empty ones are for his research.”
Kanjigar frowned.
“Don’t you have any toys?”
Draal had been absolutely obsessed with magnets as a youngling. His minerals were of the type that magnets would stick to him, so he was often covered with them. It was a pity that cameras had not existed back then or Kanjigar would have collected some memorable and amusing pictures.
Jim shook his head.
“Merlin doesn’t think they’re important.”
Kanjigar’s frown deepened. He would need to talk to Merlin when the wizard returned.
“Would you like to hear about my journey to Argentina?” He asked.
Jim immediately brightened up and nodded.
~~
As it turned out Kanjgar’s talk with Merlin ended up getting put off for a couple days. Simply because the wizard had not returned.
“Does he do this often?” Kanjigar asked Jim carefully.
“Sometimes,” the boy said with a shrug.
His tongue stuck out slightly as he tried to pour the oats out of the sack into the bowl without spilling too much. The stool he was standing on teetered and Kanjigar quickly steadied him.
“Let me help you with that,” He said taking the bag.
~~~~
“We need to talk.”
The wizard frowned at those words and gave a brief glance at his Trollhunter before returning to the scroll he was writing on.
“I’m listening.”
Kanijagar decided to cut straight to the point. It was hard to say how long he would have his attention for.
“You cannot simply leave Jim on his own for days at a time,” He said, careful to make his voice firm but respectful.
“I don’t see why not,” The wizard responded without looking at him. “He’s a resourceful enough and hasn’t had any problems.”
“That’s not the point,” Kanjigar said nostrils flaring just slightly. He had the distinct feeling this was going to be like arguing with Blinky.
“Then what is?”
“Jim is a child; a mere youngling. He needs attention and time… and more than just books! He needs fresh air and play and toys.” Kanjigar grimaced slightly. “And a change of clothes.”
From what Kanjigar learned about humans if their cloths started smelling appetizing it meant they were too dirty for the human to be wearing. Humans needed to be somewhat clean or they risked sickness and parasites.
“I suppose he is due for a change of clothes,” Merlin responded finally. He paused and frowned before giving Kanjigar an affronted look. “He does actually have more than one, but he doesn’t know how to use the washing potion yet and I was gone longer than I expected. I shall look for another set on my next trip.”
“What about the other things?”
“What about them?”
Kanjigar took a slow breath.
“Are you going to do anything about them?”
Merlin huffed and shot him an annoyed look.
“Do I look like I know anything about children?” He said irritably. “When I was a child we amused ourselves on our own just fine.”
Kanjigar’s ears flicked back and he had to clench his teeth against the urge to snap at the wizard that he shouldn’t take on such a young apprentice if he wasn’t good with children. He looked away and took a slow breath.
“Perhaps you could take care of those things you mentioned.”
Kanjigar looked back sharply to find that the wizard was studying him.
“Me?”
“Sure. You are already a father. James always goes on and on about you after you leave each time. You are sure to do a better job than I will.”
Kanjigar opened his mouth to protest. It was one thing to indulge the child a little when he visited, it was another to take responsibility for his care and well-being. Kanjigar’s job was dangerous and historically Trollhunters tended to die early. If he got too close it would only hurt the boy more when his time inevitably came. He had already distanced himself from his own son for that very reason.
But then he closed it. He glanced around at the musty cave full of scrolls and dust and herbs and then at the prickly old wizard. He thought of how excited Jim was every time Kanjigar visited. Given how hard it was for Kanjigar himself to get much interaction out of Merlin, he had no doubt the child was very lonely.
The Trollhunter’s duty was to answer every call and Jim needed him.
Kanjigar sighed and rubbed at his browridge. What was he getting himself into?
“Very well,” He said. “I cannot live here but I will visit more often. I will bring the boy what toys and amusements that I can but you must at least try to be more involved with him. And please, tell me if you expect to be gone for more than a day. If something happens to him while he is alone, he could be badly hurt or worse.”
Merlin’s hummed and stroked his beard.
“I suppose you are right. I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime I’m off to get some venison. I grow weary of oatmeal.”
With that he walked out the door and was gone.
Kanjigar stared at the closed door and then back at the stone hallway that led to Jim’s room. His hand strayed to the Amulet hanging from its chain around his neck. He toyed with it apprehensively.
“Oh Deya, what am I doing?” He murmured to himself.
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mizzprouds · 3 years
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Get to know PENELOPE “PENNY” PROUD who is often mistaken for DIAMONTE “SAWEETIE” HARPER. People say she reminds them of PENNY PROUD from THE PROUD FAMILY. 
the little things. 
hometown: wizville, corona
birthday: august 12 / 25 (leo) 
occupation: employee at the sugar rush arcade, aspiring singer/rapper & soon to be ceo of viperion records. 
education: senior at corona college
extracurriculars/things she’s a part of: member of the roller derby team. on the soccer and basketball teams. the first girl to be on the varsity football team. part of gaming squad. prescott’s acting class 
headcanons. 
Penny first starts dancing when she’s seven years old. She signs up for a talent show at the Wizard Kelly community center. Another group of kids were thinking of doing a dance to Independent Woman by Destiny’s Child and she joins their group. They lose the talent show in the end but she had fun. 
Shortly after this she begs her parents to sign her up for dance classes. At first Oscar is adamant that he’s not wasting money on dance lessons, even when her mom tries to reason with him. In the end Suga Mama ends up paying for the dance classes. 
It’s no secret that Penny is extremely close to her beloved grandma. Often times when she couldn’t see eye to eye with her parents she’d go to Suga Mama’s house for some clarity. Suga Mama always found a way to meet Penny in the middle and provide her with the guidance and wisdom she needed to make the right choice. Suga Mama’s house was also the birth place of her love for music.
Uncle Bobby, who still lived with Suga Mama after his own music career failed, would never know what to do with his frustrated niece when she’d come by looking for a reprieve from her parents. All Bobby knew was music and the way it healed, and so he’d put on his old records and they’d dance around the house until there was nothing but smiles and good vibes.
Bobby insists on teaching Penny how to play at least one instrument. She initially has no interest in learning the guitar or piano. The music she likes is heavy with bass and 808s. But then she hears Fallin’ by Alicia Keys and she changes her tune. Penny dedicates every bit of free time she has to learning how to play. She never gets to be as good as Alicia Keys, but she can read sheet music and has an easier time composing because of it and that’s helped her exponentially in her studies. 
The first song Penny ever performs by herself is One, Two Step by Ciara. She choreographs a dance to it with the help of some of her dance class friends, and she even copies Ciara’s outfit from the video. Her mother loves to show everyone the tape of the performance any chance she can. If you’re invited to the Proud house chances are you’ve seen that video and Penny hates it. 
Avid Hip Hop Helicopter fanatic. It being the island’s version of TRL, Penny would rush home so she could catch the video countdowns and special performances. She rewatches her favorite videos and tries to mimic everything the artist does. One time her father caught her trying to do the ‘Check On It’ choreography. He took away her TV privileges for five months. 
Growing up in the Proud household was never easy. Penny and her father have never been able to see eye to eye on literally anything, and Trudy could be just as hard to deal with as Oscar at times. Penny often felt trapped under her parents set ways, and there was never any chance of expressing those frustrations out of fear of her parents taking it as disrespect. What her parents didn’t seem to understand was the tighter the leash the more willing she was to pull on it. Penny knows she gave her parents their fair share of headaches with how often she snuck out of the house and disobeyed their wishes, but she just couldn’t help it. She was young and curious. Hell, she still is. She was always a good kid at her core though, and she tried her best. Her dad just never seemed to see it that way. 
Their fighting turned to near radio silence over the years, especially now that she’s away from home. She understands his feelings ultimately, and misses him of course, but she’s not necessarily sure she wants to be the one to make amends. Or even how to go about it. Penny feels as if she’s always the one bending over backwards for her father and he never once tries to see things from her point of view. She’s a little tired of constantly being the bigger person in their relationship.
Penny and Oscar are cut from the same cloth. Theyre both hard headed, passionate, persistent and stubborn. It’s the main reason why they can’t see to eye to eye. She thinks he’s overbearing, annoying and unbearable, and no matter how much she loves him she can’t change the fact that in the end she can’t stand him most of the time (when she’s not getting her way.). Trudy has once implied that Penny and her father have a hard time with each other because they’re so similar and Penny did not take it well. So, never compare her to her dad. Ever.
Boy! Crazy! Mostly when she was a teenager. Oscar banned her from dating until she was his age, and Penny never listened to a single thing he ever had to say. You could always catch her chatting up the cutest boys at the mall or at school. She’s still a little stuck in the habit of having to keep her relationships a secret. It takes her a while to feel comfortable posting a significant other on social media out of fear her father will see. 
Penny was originally on the high school cheerleading team, but she realized she much rather preferred football. Getting into football was literally just because one of the boys said girls are too weak for football, and if there’s one thing about Penny; she’s not going to be underestimated. 
Not the best driver. In fact, one would argue she’s a terrible driver. She failed her drivers test three times. She’s easily distracted. If the radio is on she can’t focus, and Penny is almost always listening to music. 
Her brief brush with fame was humbling. LPDZ’s (and more so her own as a solo star) failure made her re-analyze what she wanted out of the industry in the first place. She and Luka are currently working on starting their own label together, but in the meantime she’s focusing her efforts on perfecting her own sound. Penny would best describe her sound as undefinable. She doesn’t want to be classified as a rapper or an R&B singer. She just wants to make music. Women are often put in a box when it comes to the entertainment industry as a whole, and Penny doesn’t care much for the idea of playing by the rules. Because of this she is willing to try her hand at everything, experimenting with anything new at least once. 
The rise to fame is moving slow without the backing Wizard Kelly Records anymore. She kind of hates it. In an effort to keep herself occupied and build a name for herself independently, she utilizes social media. She has a YouTube account where she posts covers of songs bi-weekly, as well as the new music she’s been working. She also has a YouTube series called The Icy Life, which is literally just her vlogging about her stupid ass life. The channel is doing extremely well, thanks both to her bright personality and her proximity to various celebrities from the island (The Muses). She also livestreams on Instagram a lot, sometimes she writes songs on live but mostly she just interacts with her fans. She’s content with her 600k followers but she personally won’t stop until she has millions of followers. She wants to be as big as Beyonce. 
Penny, while focused on achieving her goals, is still the fun loving girl she’d always been. You can’t keep her from a party and she’s easily spotted on the dance floor having the time of her life, or hanging with friends.
Penny has always been understanding and passionate, and she likes to think that she will always stand up for/do the right thing in the end. She’s the queen of the pep talk and long winded speech about what’s right. She’s a leader and doesn’t even really realize it.
Penny’s biggest musical influences include: Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, Lil Kim, Lauryn Hill, Beyonce, Rihanna, and Missy Elliott.
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5sosbitchfest · 4 years
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Alrighty, Nonsters.  We currently have 290 Asks in our box!  As much as we might try, I know there is NO WAY we’re going to be able to get through all of them.  Everything exploded this weekend when MessyGate went down!   I don’t want to ignore any asks just because I already answered a similar one.  So, I’ve tried to gather as many similar Asks as possible to let your your voices be heard.  Y’all are definitely NOT alone in your feelings.  Get ready for a lot of opinions on Messy’s Twitter Drama.  
Also, if you sent in an Ask and we haven’t answered it yet, please feel free to resubmit it!  I do try to scroll through all of them but it is a daunting task and personal stuff and work make it difficult for me to get through everything in a timely manner!
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Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I’m really disappointed in Luke and this band in general, the way they deal with things. “honest policy” with messy? So he knew all of this and it was okay? Or he confronted her on this and he is okay with what she has done? I’m not sure this whole thing would be a deal breaker for me, but it certainly would make me real mad at my SO and some whiny excuses wouldn’t be enough to make things alright. Radio silence would’ve been much better than that story he posted, made himself look like a fool.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: These girls will sooner or later become their downfall if their management or them does not realise they should rely on other things than bringing relationship up front to sell their music. I find it extremely bad that they are behaving as if nothing happened, I hope there will be changes once touring will be possible again and we won’t see these girls tagging along everywhere or being brought up in interviews all the time but somehow I’m not counting too much on that.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I wonder if Luke knows everything that Messy got exposed for or just the parts Messy wanted to show him. Bc Luke said in his Story that he wasn't online lately so maybe he wasn't on Twitter too and Messy just showed him the parts that make her look good and he still doesn't know that she spoke bad about Ashton or how she stalked the fans also after she knew that they didn't hack his email adress cause he wasn't on Twitter so he couldn't see the screenshots.🤷‍♀️
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm just waiting for the day one of them date someone who isn't a part of their circle. tired of them passing around the same toxic girls.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: These girls are just digging a whole for these guys and they want be able to get out of it soon
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: It was a chicken move for Sierra to do it as a reply and no one has talked on twitter that she deleted it because they probably think her deleting it is saying it wasn’t true
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Am I the only one who thinks that guys really only heavily interact with us when they want to promote something or say something about the music? I do understand they have lives so being on Twitter isn't number one priority and with all the drama that surrounds this fandom its very easy to not want to be online a lot, I just can't help but feel that way
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm talking about this messy situation (no pun intended) with my friend and she said to me that Messy should consider changing her career if she can't handle that not all people are going to like her. (that ofc doesn't include any form of harassment bc that's not cool)
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I really don't know how to feel about the Luke situation. At first I was upset and disappointed of Luke but now I almost pity him bc real or not either the management would want Luke to defend her or Messy. And I think Luke isn't the kind of person who would stand up against the management or Messy (even though it would probably be better for him if he would). And most people don't realise when they're in a toxic relationship so I can't really blame him. I just hope this ends asap.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I literally was so angry and frustrated with Luke and this whole situation yesterday that I couldn’t even look at him on my home screen, I had to change it. It’s really a disappointing thing to witness. Whether management put him up to this or he genuinely believes this toxicity is okay, I’m just very grumpy with him at the moment. He deserves better and WE (the fans) deserve better.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I think Luke really needs to be in a relationship with sb who either isn't famous and doesn't want to be or with someone who is famous bc they have a successful career too and who doesn't need Like to be famous.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I’ve only seen a few accounts on Twitter who are attacking Messy and Crusty to the core and exposing every bad thing they’ve done with receipts for the sossies defending them! I’m happy that karma is finally getting to those con artist who think they can get away with anything
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: that recent lierra picture is photoshoped lmao. if you look at Sierra's hand you can see color coming off from it and her arm looks hella weird.her forehead looks hella weird and look couldn't have taken the picture because I doubt that he could stretch his arm that far and make a perfect picture. also we haven't even seen Sierra's face so I still don't believe they're together
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The Lemon pic was like a punch in the face (even though Petunia and Luke are looking cute there). But I've been asking myself lately if Luke has seen the whole drama going around on Twitter or just the posts Messy wanted him to know so the ones who make her look like the victim (and not the ones where she insulted Ashton or she made it clear that she stalked his fans). Cause Luke said he hasn't been online lately.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I mean we dont know how much of the story he truly is aware of and how much s changed to fit her narrative and get L to feel bad for her. Plus he was under pressure from management to do damage control and not standing up for his gf is a very bad look for outsiders who dont understand why she's at fault. It was a pretty neutral statement and he was obviously told to make the post so I dont blame him and just blame her more for putting him in the situation in the 1st place
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I wonder how much toxicity happens behind the scenes, we know S is very manipulative and L is very much a people pleaser so.. and with how much they have to sell their "love" and "happiness" in the relationship. Minipulation is a powerful thing and it could explain why hes out of touch with reality, especially lately since he's isolated with her and doesnt have the voices of the band to raise any concerns and he's been getting skinny again and seems very "meh" rather than happy, idk
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I feel so disconnected with this fandom rn. I feel like no one is streaming CALM and that makes me sad bc it's such an amazing album. The boys aren't even online anymore, everyone is mad at each other and now Luke comes up with this shit... tbh I wish I would wake up tomorrow and see him tweeting something like yeah I'm sorry about my ig story I still love y'all lmao
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Wait wait wait wait ive been gone from the fandom for a little while now and what the fuck is going on with Luke and S? What did S do that she made a fake ass apology for?? I’m so lost please help me! 😂
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I'm seeing a lot of my mutuals unstanning and I'm just so mad bc Sierra started this drama and got Luke into it and I'm sad that people are leaving bc of this, it's just too much toxicity and it shouldn't affect the band and their connection with the fans but with Luke saying this he makes it seem like he supports the ugly things she does
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I am a Luke stan and I've always loved him bc he has inspired me so much through the years but when he does this things it's like...damn. I feel like he's invalidating the fans' feelings by being like "if you don't like my girlfriend, ur fake" like he has never noticed me on Twitter or anything but my biggest fear is to be blocked by him or just ignored bc I don't like her (although I never expressed it publicly) n yeah anyways :// It feels weird
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Going back and re-reading the DM’s messy literally confirms that she accesses Luke’s account by saying “we couldn’t get in” or some shit like that
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I hate being a luke stan, sometimes it just seems like he doesn't care? he always puts these toxic gfs before the ones who adore him and pay his bills. might just move into Cashton's lane. unproblematic kings.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: He literally posted a picture of him cuddling her and petunia within the hour
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: The saddest part of this situation is it’s like a repeat of Arzaylea. Luke has no idea what a respectful, mature relationship is. We saw it with Arz and were seeing it again it’s just a little bit different. He stays being controlled and manipulated by toxic partners. I really think homeboy needs to be single for a WHILE and focus on himself. He needs to unlearn the things his past and current relationships have taught him about love because if I know anything, it’s that this ain’t real love.
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Is it bad that I just want the larzaylea drama back?? Like everyone could at least agree on their feelings then...
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: Just checked messy’s insta and of course, everyone that still supports her filled her tagged with just the single picture
Anonymous said to 5sosbitchfest: I feel like the reason Sierra is getting away with what she’s done is because she isn’t that known. Like yeah she’s associated with 5sos, but they’re also like not that big which is probably why it’s getting swept under the rug. I’ve only seen the 5SOS fandom calling her out for her actions. If this had happened with a well known celebrity, they probably would’ve been dragged and been trending on Twitter. I might be wrong but I feel like this is what’s happening which is just unfair.
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siribear · 4 years
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they agree to leave early the next morning. alice manages a few hours of sleep before waking from another nightmare - another memory. she’s weighing a short hunting rifle in her hands when preston retrieves her from her home. surprisingly, the rest of the survivors are awake, except mama murphy.
alice eats from a box of stale sugar bombs instead of marcy’s mystery meat for breakfast. by the time she and preston set out, the sun is barely rising over the neighborhood. sturges gives her an encouraging thumbs up when they leave.
they take a familiar left turn at the red rocket. preston is quiet as he leads, carrying his musket in his hands. alice’s pistol still hangs from her hip while her new rifle rests strapped to her back. she turns on the radio to fill the silence, lowering the volume when preston looks back at her over her shoulder.
it feels... different, traveling with someone familiar with the new commonwealth. codsworth knew - knows - her. knows that she came from a time when the only danger on the road was an incoming car. preston carries himself like he’s ready for raiders to pop out of the ground to ambush them. he reminds her of nate when he came back from leave for that last time. jumping at shadows.
alice slips her pistol from its holster to carry it in one hand.
they pass by the quarry, and this time she sees a lone person moving in the distance. she steps off the road to get a better look, but preston stops her. ‘that place has been flooded forever. i’d like to help, but i don’t exactly have any radaways with me. you?’
considering she doesn’t even know what radaway is, she shakes her head.
turns out, the settlement is close to the satellite station. a giant dish looms over the hill as preston leads her to what he describes as tenpines bluff. the bluff consists of a shack near the edge of the cliff, barely bigger than the outhouse on the other side of a small pond. just outside the shack are three rows of vegetables she recognizes from abernathy farm. behind that, the ruins of a wooden house with the roof blown clean off.
for the second time, she’s greeted with the barrel of a gun. the man behind it is thin, his ragged clothes hanging off his frame. alice notices he circles her and preston, putting himself between them and a woman working the land.
‘that’s close enough. you’ve taken enough from us. we don’t have anything left to give.’
they put away their weapons, hands held aloft. preston looks to her. ‘we’re with the minutemen. we heard you needed some help?’
the man blinks once, then lowers his own pistol. ‘the minutemen? we sent word with a caravan weeks ago.’ he gestures to the woman in the field. ‘we didn’t think anyone was coming.’
alice shrugs and continues before preston can let it get to him. ‘sorry about the delay. what can we do to help?’
‘well, a group of raiders has been after us for weeks now. taking food, water, anything they can get. we know they’re holed up in that old satellite station, but there’s no way we can take them out ourselves.’
she grins. ‘you’re in luck. i just cleared that place out the other day for the abernathys.’
his jaw drops, and preston looks at her, equally surprised. ‘really? one of them had a minigun and you just - ?’ he takes a deep breath. ‘well, all right then. say, how is old blake abernathy?’
alice hooks her thumbs in her pockets. ‘he’s okay. they’re starting to grow melons this season.’ she tilts her head in preston’s direction. ‘and they’re now under protection of the minutemen.’
he whistles. ‘you weren’t kidding then. the minutemen are back?’ he looks preston over, from his hat to his musket. ‘if the abernathys have joined the minutemen, then count us in also. it’s about time someone started clearing out the commonwealth.’ he upends a pouch of bottle caps into alice’s hands. ‘and you tell blake joseph tenpine said hello.’
alice pockets the caps and clears her throat. ‘no problem. anything else we can help with, since we’re in the area?’
the woman joins the rest of them, brushing dirt off her hands. ‘i saw a group of raiders head down to the border. couldn’t have been a day or two before you took down the others.’
‘a scouting party?’ preston asks.
joseph nods. ‘anne and i think they’re expanding their territory.’
‘probably using the supplies they got from the satellite station and what they took from you,’ alice figures.
‘which still leaves us in danger,’ continues the anne.
preston turns to alice. ‘there’s an outpost to the northeast. that’s likely where they went.’
‘all right. looks like that’s where we’re headed next.’
‘be careful,’ anne warns them before they leave. ‘one of them was wearing a suit of power armor.’
-
preston helps her down the cliff to the train tracks below. box cars litter the tracks and the area around them, cargo long since picked clean.
‘i’ve been thinking about that power armor,’ alice begins. she remembers the beating hers took from the deathclaw in concord. but she also remembers the stories nate used to tell from the war. ‘i think that fusion core is the key. it’s a clear shot from the back.’
‘like how the brotherhood of steel burns out their armor. that could work.’
she doesn’t know who the brotherhood of steel is, but she nods. ‘it’s our best bet. unless you’ve got a missile launcher hidden under that coat of yours.’
he chuckles. ‘afraid not. think you can make the shot with that?’ he nods to her rifle on her back.
she unslings it. ‘not sure, honestly. i’m more familiar with pistols.’
preston looks toward the sky, to the sun reaching just past noon. ‘we’re probably better off attacking closer to night. harder for them to see us coming, but you can still see that fusion core.’
‘couldn’t you take the shot?’
‘i - no. i’m not sure i could. i watched you take out those raiders in the museum; you’re a better shot than i am.’ he coughs awkwardly. alice narrows her eyes, but doesn’t press him. ‘do you have any cans in your pack?’
‘hm? no, i left them with sturges.’ for codsworth, she adds to herself.
he begins gathering rocks and bricks, lining them up on the edge of a box car. together, they put some distance between them and the makeshift targets until she can barely see their blurry silhouettes. ‘well, the fusion core would be a small target anyway,’ she reasons. her first shot misses, passing through two bricks and sending sparks off the floor of the box car at the impact.
‘close. and you don’t even have a scope on that, either.’ preston corrects her stance and her shoulder placement, teaches her to hold her breath and exhale with the shot. it takes some time before she actually hits her mark, but even then it’s just grazing the edges. the first time she sends a rock flying, she lets out a loud yes! that has preston laughing.
her excitement is cut short when a figure slowly makes its way around one of the cars. its body is green and bloated, littered with open sores long since infected and begun to rot. it lifts its bald head to reveal small, yellow eyes. when it opens its mouth to rotten teeth, its scream is inhuman.
preston swears, lifting his musket. alice fumbles to reload, firing the second she can. she severs its leg with one shot and a spray of red. it collapses on one side, but the thing keeps coming. it drags itself forward, clawing the ground as it advances toward them. preston finishes it off with a shot to the neck, the laser cauterizing the wound as its head rolls to the side.
‘what,’ alice says, gasping, ‘the hell was that?’
‘you really aren’t from around here, huh? that was a ghoul. we should... keep moving. they normally travel in packs.’
alice nods, and preston leads them toward the outpost, steering them clear of the pack of ghouls congregated further down the tracks.
‘ghouls are... irradiated people,’ preston explains when they’re far enough away. ‘they’re just like you and me, but they look... different. and they live a long time. but sometimes the radiation rots their brains and they go feral.’
‘and then they turn into zombies. great.’
-
they reach the outpost just as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. a towering pre-war relay sits atop a concrete base, surrounded by wooden and metal shacks and guard posts shoddily put together post-war. the outpost itself lies in a small bowl bracketed by two cliffs. alice spots two raiders huddled together underneath a cloth canopy. preston gestures to a turret at the edge of the camp.
anne had been telling the truth - a raider in a suit of power armor walks toward the others from behind the relay. at their angle, she can’t see the fusion core.
alice slowly moves down the back side of the cliff, away from the camp. in the faint light of her pip-boy, she gestures to preston. other side. keep an eye out. he turns away with a slight nod.
she takes the long way around, giving the camp a wide berth. the bare, fall trees near the camp give her little cover, and the piles of leaves would give her away. on elbows and knees, she crawls to the edge of the opposite cliff. the raiders are still there, though one breaks off toward one of the guard posts. still. two in one, she can do this. alice rises to one knee, braces the stock against her shoulder like preston showed her, aims for the middle of the frame where the fusion core sits, and fires.
she misses. hears the ping of her bullet ricochet off the frame and the swears of the raiders as they try to find her. in the darkness, she can see the silhouette of a weapon that makes her blood run cold.
a goddamn fat man.
flashes of red laser fire turn their attention toward preston’s side, and alice watches as the raider loads a mininuke into the launcher. alice holds her breath and fires.
something knocks her to the ground, hard. at first she thinks its the shock wave as a small mushroom cloud erupts over the edge of the cliff, but then she’s stricken in the face. and then again, and again. rifle fallen just out of her reach, alice lifts her arms and braces herself against the blows. 
‘you shouldn’t,’ one punch hits her in the side, ‘have done,’ another against her bicep, ‘that,’ the last is a cut clear across her forearm, the raider’s knife glowing orange as it reflects the cloud. a bright red light knocks the weight off her chest, and she sits up to see preston running toward her.
‘i didn’t see the third one in the explosion,’ he says, carefully lifting her. she cradles her arm against her chest. ‘you okay?’
‘just got the wind knocked out of me. you?’
‘think the edge of my hat got singed, but i’m - ’
a gunshot cuts him off, and it’s too familiar. the dread, the pain. alice turns to her left, to the raider clutching her side and the rags of her armor seared against her skin, and shoots her in the head with her pistol. she turns to preston, still standing there, no bullet in his chest.
she falls to her knees, nearly dragging preston down with her as he holds onto her arm.
‘hey, hey. hold on.’
her vision sways as she watches him fiddle with the pipboy on her wrist. her vitals display on the first screen. losing blood, but not bleeding out. bullet wound - bullet wound? - in left shoulder. she’s blinded momentarily when he finally finds the flashlight. ‘when did i get shot? that wasn’t supposed to happen,’ she mutters. it’s a wonderful time to remember she’s got a low pain tolerance.
‘it’s not - ’ he tries to hide his grimace, but fails in the bright light, ‘it’s not bad. i’ve got a few stimpaks. just try not to move too much.’
she doesn’t have time to wonder before she feels the needle slide into her skin near the gash on her arm. the tightness in her chest eases, just a little. already she can feel her skin begin to heal. maybe it’ll leave a scar.
‘now for the bad one,’ he says, prodding her shoulder.
‘talk me through it,’ she says. ‘field medicine. i’ve-i’ve never had to.’ never had a reason to, not between her suburban life and autodocs in the city for the worst of it. ‘always traveled alone. never anything worse than a bandage.’
he does, every detail. from the alcohol he fishes out of her pack to the bullet extraction. she pays attention to most of it, drowning out the instinctual urge to shove him away every time her wound stings. she feels another stimpak enter her shoulder, then the paid recedes to a dull ache.
by the time he’s finished, the sun has completely set. he gives her another moment to recover before they head down to the scorched camp. the geiger counter on her pipboy ticks once, then goes silent. surprisingly most of the camp is still intact, aside from the small crater near the cliff and warped power armor frame left from the aftermath.
‘i have a theory,’ she starts, but giving preston no time to reply as she heads up a small staircase up to the relay. at the base of one of the legs, a ham radio just barely warped from the heat. she fiddles with the dials and finds a channel of static and dead air.
‘your theory?’ preston asks from below.
‘five people does not a sanctuary make,’ she says. ‘we take a station and broadcast a message encouraging people to come to sanctuary.’ she looks around at the shacks, the guard posts. ‘or wherever we can defend and call a settlement. even here, right at the border.’
he makes a thoughtful noise that carries. ‘a waystation for caravans to and from the commonwealth.’
‘exactly. there’s not much north of here, but the more areas we own and the less areas raiders own, the better, right?’
‘of course, general.’
she barely hears him as she begins recording the transmission.
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Chapter 2 of Through the Storm is here! This fic takes place during ep 9x16 “The Storm.” Chapter 1 can be found here.
Through the Storm: Chapter 2 - Fight or Flight (also on 9L)
“It’s knowing when to keep fighting. Knowing when it’s over.” – Ezekiel
_________________________________________________________
Carol awoke before dawn, the left side of the bed as empty and cold as her heart.
It briefly entered her mind to get up and find Ezekiel—grief or exploding pipes were the only things that drew him out of bed in the middle of the night, and she knew he could use help with either—but the dark felt oppressive, both inside and out, so she lay on her side, staring at the wall.
Oppressive and empty, a marriage of bleakness that sat heavily upon her.  
As so often lately, her mind drifted to the road that’d led her here. A long, dirty, and dangerous road full of so much loss and suffering, too many lonely nights and isolation, the desperation to escape.
And what an escape artist she’d become. Cut in half but feigning whole. Locked in a box, but floating on the sea, coasting endlessly on waves of fancy, drinking up the very fantasy that threatened her existence.
What a wonderful fraud she’d turned out to be.
She couldn’t stay here, no matter how much of an obligation she felt. To Henry and his memory. To the place that held so many memories of him, held his ghost in every corner and shadow. To the people who saw her as half of their leadership. To her other half whom she found less and less a part of her the longer her son lay in the ground.
She hadn’t felt warm here in weeks.
The light seeped in the few times she’d radioed Alexandria and spoke with Michonne and Judith. When Rosita sent a specific message, checking in on her. When a random Hilltop straggler visited and she hoped for news of Maggie’s return. When she sat quietly with Daryl and the silence didn’t scream in pain and the hurt, though ever acute, felt somehow lessened because she could share it.
It’d happened nearly her whole life. Surrounded by people but sitting in isolation. Alone with her thoughts but not present. Part of something but alone. The only time she felt she belonged had been with them. On a farm. At a prison. Homeless on the road. It hadn’t mattered where they were; it’d only ever mattered who she had with her.
Most of them gone now, and she’d separated herself from the rest.
She stared as the black of night eked way into gray and wondered how she could make the dawn rise in her heart again.
A desperate ache clawed in her chest. She needed them now more than ever. Needed their strength because she was spent. Needed them to remind her of the best of her, not enthralled by the masked pretender she’d become all these years.
Michonne had confirmed, even after all this time, that they were still family. Daryl had hung around since the day of the fair, never pushing her to talk about her feelings or trying to change the subject; he merely let her experience whatever emotion she had and remained nearby should she need him.
She sighed, considering how simple and yet complicated it was to have that quiet strength, to not push away uncomfortable feelings and to sit until the storm passed. His friendship had meant so much to her over the years, and maybe never more so than now.
They’d spent more time together lately than they had since…well, since they’d arrived at Alexandria all those years ago. The realization made her heart ache with nostalgia.
He’d taken to sleeping outside on the gazebo bench—he said he liked it there, but she thought he likely felt claustrophobic indoors after so many years sleeping in the woods—and had found her shivering in the cold night air a month ago, trying to escape the guilt and grief that plagued her. He’d warmed her with his jacket, but also with the light he shone in her heart.
They’d sat quietly for a long time, hours maybe, so close she could feel the heat from his body, their arms and legs touching as they lounged on and under the blankets protecting them from the cold trying to seep into their skin. After a while, Daryl had turned the lantern off and let his head fall back so he could stare up at the winter sky. She stared at him, the ease of his composure, the unapologetic ruggedness, the strength of his brawn and his heart, the lines time had drawn around the eyes she missed looking into so much.
Her mouth cracked into a soft, sad smile, and she followed suit, letting her head fall back to peer up at the blanket of darkness with millions of twinkling lights popping through.
“Even after all this time, it’s easy to forget they’re there,” she said, straining to get the quiet words out past the stretch in her neck.
Several moments passed before Daryl slowly eased his heavy head up to a normal position. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him look at her. “Sometimes you just need to be reminded.”
Carol moved her head up to face him, full of trepidation and hope, a nasty mixture that left her craving comfort she should be allowing her husband to provide.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” she whispered, staring at her nails as she picked at them. The admission crashed in on her and left her feeling light as a feather. She’d said it and couldn’t take it back, and it both chained and freed her.
Daryl didn’t respond, though she could tell he waited intently for her to continue.
“This isn’t a fairy tale, but I’ve been living like it could be real. All this time… Like a child whose dream of being swept away by a prince—or a king—came true. So foolish.”
Her last words came out on an angry, strangled breath. He waited to see if she’d expel anything more, but all that came were tears.
“You needed peace. Deserved it after everything that happened. No one blames you—could ever blame you—for wanting to escape the reality of this shithole. ‘S no shame in that.” He turned his body towards her, lifting his hand to her jaw to gently ease her gaze up to meet his. “You gotta forgive yourself for wanting a place to heal. A place to be happy. A place to have a family again. Carol…”
She saw a war within his eyes, felt the ache in his voice, and couldn’t stop staring at him.
He hurt for her. With all the fierceness he possessed, he wanted to help her.
Without knowing it, he already was.
Carol shut her eyes, the burn of tears and lack of sleep stinging as she tried to understand the mix of emotions swirling inside her. She wanted to escape the feelings cramming her chest; she needed to stay put. She felt like smiling at the relief his words caused to wash over her and wanted to cry until the breath was stolen from her lungs. She could scream until her throat felt raw, but she needed to sit in silence with this man and heal. She needed to remember how she’d gotten here. She wanted to forget.
Could she forgive herself? Forgive that she’d willfully chosen to leave the only people who’d ever made her feel real? Forgive that she’d loved another child, knowing she may very well be his curse? Forgive herself for falling under the spell of a man who acted like a king and treated her like a queen? Forgive herself now for wanting to leave the fraud of her life behind and begin again?
God, she wanted to.
“Henry’s everywhere,” she squeezed out past the lump in her throat. “Being here…I can’t stay.”
He heard the hurt in her voice, the draw to stay to keep Henry’s memory alive, the draw to leave to keep herself alive.
“You don’t gotta stay anywhere you don’t want to. Or leave when you don’t want to. No one can make you do that anymore.” He waited a moment before continuing. “It ain’t who you are.”
She stared up at him, the reminder so simple, so profound, it shook her to her core.
She had a choice. She could choose. She could choose.
With a tearful nod, she slipped back into silence, cherishing that realization in her heart, the air heavy with their thoughts. The night felt darker without the lantern on, but somehow it didn’t weigh as much. Somehow facing the darkness next to Daryl felt more like comfort than anything she’d felt in years.
“I should head back in,” she murmured after a long time. “You’re going out to check your traps tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
She gripped his hand briefly. “Stay close. Be safe.”
And he had. He’d stayed close enough for her to find him if she needed to, for him to check in on her every day the past month. Anytime, night or day, she could seek him out and feel the warmth of spring in the deadest of her winters. Sometimes they talked for minutes, sometimes they sat in silence for hours. Most of the time they both stayed busy keeping the Kingdom running and worrying about the Whisperers showing up. Regardless, his presence meant more to her than anything else.
She’d turned the star-gazing conversation over and over in her mind for weeks now, wearing it out like a lucky penny, and each day she’d moved closer to the possibility of reclaiming her life.
Ezekiel knew something had shifted the past few days, she could feel it. She’d seen him eyeing Daryl curiously, as he’d seen her spend more and more time with her old friend. He never questioned her or said anything about Daryl’s new camp inside the walls of their community, but she felt the tension growing. It should bother her, she knew, but it only felt cloying, like a jacket that fit too snugly.
Daryl would stay as long as she needed him to.
And she needed him to. She felt in his presence. Felt like a person and not like a shell. She was cracked but not broken, and he accepted that, welcomed it even, as part of her. He made her believe she could survive this as she had the loss of her other children and come out stronger, burnished steel from a blazing inferno.
But not here, she’d come to accept. Not as a childless mother in a crumbling castle of girlish dreams.
Carol noticed that daylight now streamed in through the window behind her, lighting her way. She sat up, throwing her feet to the floor, her clothes from yesterday slightly wrinkled beneath the large sweater draped around her. Gripping the edge of the bed, she took in a deep breath, her decision made.
The bedroom door swung open, and Ezekiel entered, closing it behind him.
“Pipes burst again. I’d gone to the kitchen to get a drink when I heard them.”
He sighed heavily, wearily, as he sat behind her, and she heard his shoes drop to the floor, felt the bed dip behind her as he lay down.
“Did you sleep?” His question came gently, concern tingeing his voice, and she shook her head.
His hand rested on her shoulder. “We can rest. I told Jerry not to bother us for a while.”
He sounded so hopeful, entreating. She knew her words would break his already fragile heart.
“I can’t stay here anymore,” she heard herself say without introduction, without inflection. Even to her own ears, she sounded despondent. “I can’t be where Henry was. He’s everywhere.”
The silence stretched around her; she couldn’t even hear him breathe.
“We can move to another building,” he finally suggested, but the idea and his tone both sounded flimsy.
“I’m not a mother anymore. I’m not a queen—never really have been. I know now I can’t be here anymore. I don’t want to pretend we can make it through to the other side of this.”
“We can. I know we can.”
Some of his optimism, his hope came through, but it fell lackluster against her heart. A trap she’d fallen prey to in her life before. Pretty lies, sweet ministrations, painted pictures of promises that couldn’t come true. Not like her first husband, but trapped all the same. Like she’d jumped off a cliff and he’d grasped her arm for dear life, even as she’d let go, ready to face the deep cavern at her feet.
It would take both of them to survive; somehow she’d land on them. But she needed him to let go so she could try.
She’d already chosen her fate.
“We can’t.”
“Carol, please—”
He gripped her shoulder, pleading, and she turned to look at him, lying on his side propped up on one elbow. “Ezekiel, I can’t.” The word came out fiercely, quietly, and her stomach roiled with emotions at the way this had gone. She softened her voice, full of tears. “I’m sorry…”
Something in her tone must have solidified it for him. He let his hand drop from her shoulder, and he turned to face the window as she looked down at her feet.
“We have to leave anyway. The pipes won’t hold much longer. I radioed Hilltop, and they’re willing to take us in. All of us. We should leave by the end of the week. It’ll take that long to get everyone and everything packed up. Will you stay with me? Help me?”
She sighed wearily at this loss, set atop the pile she’d already stacked up lately. She’d have to help them pack, help with the children and gather supplies. She’d have to go through Henry’s room if she wanted to keep anything of his. The prospect sickened her stomach, but the idea of not having something of his seemed unbearable.
“Yeah,” she finally conceded. “I’ll stay.”
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pwezzle · 5 years
Text
Epiphany
A one shot taking place post-Stardust Crusaders, from the POV of Jotaro. Expect Part 3 spoilers. And Happy Vento Aureo Day, even though this piece is pretty much unrelated. 3,616 words. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. Please enjoy! 
They told me not to look, but I did anyway.
Muhammad Avdol’s body was nowhere to be found. All that was left of him were his arms. And Polnareff swore the man was dead, there was no question. He claimed he’d seen Avdol's soul passing, along with Iggy's, with his own two eyes. No one besides me really believed him, but no one could argue.
Iggy's body was a horrendous sight, really. The once rambunctious little terrier looked more like a bloody hand towel by the time his corpse was recovered. I couldn't stand the sight of it for too long.
Joseph couldn't look at Iggy's corpse. He couldn't look at what remained of Avdol. It was all too much for him. And he didn’t even consider looking at Kakyoin's body. He told me DIO's attack had been as quick as blinking. Kakyoin was gone before he even knew it.
The moment they rolled Kakyoin’s body out of the ambulance, Joseph threw his fake hand up and turned away. "No, please,” he said, “Don't show me.”
But I wanted to see. Not out of morbid curiosity, or because I couldn't believe he was gone, but because I needed the sight of it to be burned into my memory. I needed to see him whenever I closed my eyes at night, so I'd never forget what he and the others sacrificed to save my mother—and humanity, for that matter.
I sort of regret it, though. They pulled back the sheet covering his corpse and I immediately felt a sharp pain in my gut. Joseph hadn't lied: it was right through the middle of his torso. It looked like a damn hole punch. The rest of his body was covered in awful bruises and cuts. All this for a woman he barely knew and a world that had been indifferent to his existence. If I hadn't felt nauseous before, I was certainly ready to hurl then.
And I can't remember the hours after that, if I’m honest. I saw Avdol’s arms after Kakyoin and it only worsened my state. My head spun imagining how quick that bastard Vanilla Ice had to be, to take out such a gifted Stand User like Avdol.
"Noriyaki Kakyoin is dead", they announced over the radio, “Iggy is dead. Muhammad Avdol’s body could not be recovered, he is presumed dead.”
On our flight to a hospital in Nepal, Polnareff couldn't even speak, which I thought was far worse than hearing him moan or weep over our late friends. Joseph tried to break the silence at one point by cracking a joke about vampires. He really had awful timing. If wasn't like pranks and shit were going to make us feel better about what we’d seen. Polnareff managed to force a smile for him. I couldn't.
We spent a handful of nights in that hospital, monitored around the clock by the Speedwagon Foundation and a group of approved doctors and nurses. The three of us had all sustained serious injuries, but thankfully, nothing fatal with proper treatment. I thought I looked like a mental patient walking around in a hospital gown under my school jacket and hat, but it was too damn cold in there not to. They wouldn't even let me smoke in my room, not that I could always bring myself to. Sometimes the fire from the lighter would make me think of Avdol. And how there wasn't even a body.
I don’t think I’d ever asked him if he had any family back home.
I rarely slept the whole stay. Whenever my eyes closed, I was far away from the shitty bed with its papery sheets. I was lounging in a hotel in Singapore, or walking the streets of Calcutta, or flying past rooftops in Cairo.
Just to ease my racing mind, I’d walk the aisles of the hospital in the middle of the night. No one ever stopped me, but I did get gawked at by the nurses. I was starting to go crazy there. Those nurses were annoying, and the doctors were no better. The old me might have told them all to just piss off, but I never cared to say a word against them. They were just trying to help, even when they brought me food that made me want to vomit, like pudding doused with whipped cream. They just had to put a damn cherry on top every time.
“JoJo—I tied a knot in a cherry stem with my tongue. Look!”
“Bullshit, Hierophant Green did that.”
“Don't call bullshit if you can't prove it!”
“It's cheating if your Stand uses its fingers, you know.”
“Tch, well I guess nothing gets past a Joestar, huh?”
I usually threw dessert away.
One of the few nights I’d been lucky enough able to fall asleep, I was awoken soon after by the sound of a dog barking. My heart practically stopped. There really shouldn't have been anyone or anything near the hospital at night with the Speedwagon people on patrol, but perhaps a stray had wandered onto the premises? Out of bed before I knew it, I checked out the window, but there wasn’t a soul outside. Then I realized I was hearing dogs, again.
Unable to relax after that, I decided to go for another one of my walks through the hospital, and along the way I saw Joseph sitting by a window in one of the waiting areas on our floor. It felt like the first I’d seen him in a while, despite staying just down the hall from each other. This particular waiting area wasn't open to the public that late, so it was just him.
"Ah, Jotaro," the old man rumbled when he saw me, "Taking a moonlit stroll?"
I decided to sit across from him and join him in his stargazing. It was better than anything I had planned for the evening. We did this in silence for a while, until he cleared his throat.
"I haven't had the chance to ask you..." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "...That is… how’re you feeling?"
That question took me by surprise. There had hardly been any "how are you"s over our journey. There hadn't been time or reason to ask, at least in my mind. It didn't matter how anyone was feeling on their way to defeat some immortal vampiric overlord. I couldn't think of an answer for him. However, in that moment I became aware of the weariness throughout my body: the tension in my core, the numbness in my hands. I suppose it showed.
"It's getting to you, too, isn't it? The weight of it all?” he queried.
I met his attentive gaze.
"I know you cared about them,” he said, “It was hard not to. Our brothers-in-arms, or however you wanna’ say it…”
Joseph proceeded to stare sadly out the window, and it was hard not to feel a twinge of sadness myself. The first I'd really recognized within me since we’d left Egypt. I guessed I’d spent my days in shock, until then.
"I've seen far too much death in my time, grandson,” he confessed, “I've lost so many. I find myself unable to sleep because of it, most nights... I'll do anything to forget the pain. Even for just a little while.”
He swallowed hard as if there was more he couldn't admit to me. I wasn't in the mood to pry.
"Avdol was a good friend to me. Iggy too, in his own unique way. And Kakyoin... well. Don't take this the wrong way, but he felt like he could be my other grandson. I know the three of them held you in high esteem.”
He tried to look me in the eye again. "You were close to him, weren't you? Kakyoin? It was sometimes hard for Polnareff and Avdol to relate to you, since you're just a high-schooler, but you boys seemed to get along pretty well."
I couldn't answer him.
“Friendship is nothing but heartache, Jotaro. Any relationship is. It's all just to keep us in-line morally, until one person breaks the other’s heart—in life or death...” I felt myself wanting to tune his nihilistic drabble out. “...But mostly it's worth the trouble.”
Joseph then looked to the stars.
“How?” I asked, following suit.
“It’s about the memories you make, in my opinion. Being able to look back on all the times when everything was in shambles, and then being able to say ‘well, someone I loved was there, so it wasn't all bad’,” he explained.
After that, I wanted him to stop talking. He was making too much sense for an old geezer. "I’d rather just block it out. It’s like they’re all going to haunt me forever,” I admitted.
"I hate to say it. But yes, they will.”
Our talk that night hardly made me feel better. I wasn’t interested in hearing any of Joseph’s stories, knowing it would just bring him lower than he already felt. Seeing him so down, when I’d always known him to be such a clown, was strange. I could never fathom how broken he must be, underneath it all.
The hospital bed that night was as uncomfortable as ever. I was awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, and there was a sort of screaming in my head. Tossing and turning, I ended up facing the window and saw Star Platinum hovering before me. It wasn’t looking at me, but the sky outside. I think it was getting to be dawn.
Despite its newfound power after the fight with DIO, it didn't seem any bigger or tougher. Rather, something seemed wrong. Normally when I looked at my Stand, I saw something I couldn’t help but think of as a separate entity from me. It acted on its own in the beginning, and I called it my demon. Over those first months I had it, I came up with the theory that it could act on behalf of my subconscious, even if I didn’t specifically will it to do anything. But it still never felt like any sort of reflection of me, much less “my fighting spirit”, as they said.
That night in the hospital room changed things, though.
I remembered something Avdol had told me one evening in the desert, by the light of the campfire.
“I find that our Stands are manifestations of ourselves AND their own beings. Your Stand reflects you and your ideals, though it might have a personality of its own. The lines between a physical being and their Stand are sort of blurred. It can be used for good or evil, but it may also act independently based on the thoughts in the back of your mind. You really must discover how you work and fight with Star Platinum by yourself, Jotaro. What can it do? Some Stands are more like objects, others act more like pets. Yours may even be like a friend, but nevertheless it is an undeniable reflection of who you are as a human being, and you must view it and use its power as such.”
Star Platinum’s posture was off as it stared into the distance. Normally standing proud, I noticed it was hunched over a bit, arms limp at its sides, with its legs just sort of dangling in the air. And the face. The stupid thing emoted a hell of a lot more than I did. Watching those first colors of sunrise, it looked sullen. Depressed, even. I realized that my “fighting spirit” didn’t have any fight left in it.
Eventually we were admitted from the hospital. Polnareff was doing fairly well; he was dealing with some bad soreness and migraines, but he could walk and function fine enough. Joseph was very stiff and had a hard time standing for prolonged periods. He really wasn’t getting around as well as before, but he was set on going without a cane for as long as he could. As for me, my body still felt much heavier than usual.
I would’ve hated to admit it, but I’d been thinking Joseph had a point that night in the waiting room. The more time that passed, the more I came to terms with the fact that I would be haunted by my memories of my friends until I died.
After Joseph and my grandmother went home to New York, I kept an eye on my mom for the remainder of the year. She was as chipper as ever, despite her traumatic experience. She still fawned all over me every chance she got. But I couldn’t be irritated with her, I was just thankful for her safety. All the teasing was worth eating her cooking again and seeing her be herself. Too much time had passed for me to apologize for how I acted before Joseph came. But what I’ve always liked about my mom was her ability to understand what was in someone's heart without them having to say a word.
She and I would get a call from my grandparents weekly. Sometimes she would talk to Joseph, or her mom. Sometimes Joseph would request to speak to me alone, and check if I’d encountered anyone suspicious lately, if things were really alright with Mom, if I was holding up okay. One day I was on the phone with my grandmother, which didn't happen often, and she spoke to me with a seriousness in her voice I’d never heard before.
“I know some of the things your grandfather has seen. I’m not oblivious to it. He tries his best to keep me out of the loop, but I know by now he's gone and seen some more.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I know he can be a pain, at times, but please be gentle with him if you can.”
“He’s so proud of the man you’re becoming, Jotaro. And I am, too. We love you.”
Sometimes I would get letters from Polnareff, and at one point he included his phone number, so I could give him a call. I think it took a while before I finally got around to doing that.
And he nearly blew out my ear drums for it when he answered:
“What?! Jotaro?! It's about time you use my number, bastard! How are you?! How’s your mother? And Joseph? He hasn't contacted me in a while, I was beginning to think you guys forgot about me!”
He gave me a hard time as expected, but I knew he was happy to hear from me. And it was oddly soothing to hear his voice again.
“For the past few weeks I haven't been doing well. It's still hard trying to be… normal, again. Do you get that?” Polnareff inquired.
“Since I first saw Star Platinum, I’ve hardly felt 'normal’,” I replied.
“Mm, I suppose I understand that, given you weren’t born with it,” he tittered, “But, you know, I took a walk just the other day, to clear my head. You ever do that? And get this, I bought a pack of coffee-flavored chewing gum when I was out.”
“Really?” I felt a lump form in my throat.
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” His tone softened a bit. “Just like Iggy used to like. And I stuffed it in my pocket, walked to the park, and just sat down on a bench and chewed some gum. In honor of him. I watched the people going by and thought about how lucky I am to get to enjoy fresh air again. The sun on my skin. A cool breeze. Stuff like that.”
“I only get to because of those guys, you know?” he continued, “I figured… I need to keep living since I’m still here.”
I stifled a sigh. “That easy, huh?”
“Hah, no, of course not. It was just one of those epiphany moments that kind of fades by the time you wake up the next morning. But hey, maybe you should do that.”
“Do what?”
“Go out! Be with people, again! Real people! It might help you feel more normal. Or reinvigorate you? Something like that.”
“Good grief. I’ll try it, just for you.”
“Hah! Jotaro, you're so full of shit. Now you’ll be in trouble if you just sit on your ass at home and smoke, cos I’m holding you to that!” Polnareff let out a genuine laugh. “Oh, and speaking of which, do you still do that crazy cigarette trick you used to do...?”
Despite his disbelief in me, I took Polnareff’s advice the following weekend. I told Mom I'd give her a phone call if I was gone for more than four hours, just to check on her. She told me I fretted over her too much, but she liked it.
I took a trip down to the beach. I don't know why I decided to go that way, besides the fact that it was the only place I could think to visit on the weekend that wouldn't give me a massive headache. Since it was raining on and off that day, it shouldn’t have been too crowded.
I walked up and down the pier in the light drizzle. There weren't many others around, just as I expected, and that was preferable. I wasn't an extrovert like Polnareff. I liked open space, without people. Especially the ocean. Space couldn't get any more “open” than that. But I still felt like I should be doing something else. I remembered what Polnareff said about the chewing gum, and I thought I could do something similar. Get something that reminded me of one of them.
No coffee-flavored chewing gum, I decided. I couldn't stand the stuff anymore. I’d found a leftover stick in my wallet the day before and got light-headed from the smell. So, I wandered around for a while, trying to decide what kind of pointlessly sentimental thing I could do.
Finally, I happened across an ice cream stand. The rain had started pouring a bit harder, but I was able to take shelter under an umbrella in front of the shop. The owner told me I’d have to get lost if I was going to stand around looking like a delinquent and not buy anything. Then I felt that sentimental thing hit me.
“Alright, a vanilla soft-serve, please. Just the one.”
It didn't taste as good as it did in Singapore, but I ate it anyway. It made me wonder how that stowaway girl Anne was doing. She must have had a hard time processing all the things she’d seen when she was with us.
I took my ice cream down to the beach, even as the rain kept on pouring. It was probably getting ruined, but I didn't care. I was waiting for my epiphany.
The sun went down between the rain clouds and my ice cream was nearly gone. I’d been mindlessly licking at it for a while, not really tasting anything anymore. But then my tongue hit something solid.
I looked down inside the cone.
I winced.
A fucking cherry.
I stood holding the cone for a while, wondering why the hell anyone would drop a cherry at the bottom of an ice cream cone rather than putting it on top. The stupid guy must have done it to spite me.
I don't think I noticed that the rain had stopped. All that wet sand was getting in my shoes, too, but I just stood there like a regular old moron, staring into my cone.
“JoJo, are you going to eat that cherry?”
Kakyoin was a weird guy, but I really did get along with him. As a matter of fact, I don't know if I’d ever gotten along that well with someone my age. It was strange how much I had in-common with a person who was nothing like me. He transferred to my school and I’d never even noticed him before.
And now he was dead. Murdered. Iggy, too. And Avdol. None of them ever got to go home.
I never would have met them if it wasn't for the whole family curse thing. And even if I had, my head would’ve been too far up my ass to get to know anybody.
“I don't mean to be greedy, but they're my favorite.”
Kakyoin’s parents would never see him, again. And I wouldn't get to, either. We hadn’t known each other long, but I really cared about him. I cared about all of them. To me, it shouldn't have happened the way it did. I should have died protecting Holly Kujo. It would have been my duty as her son. But I was still breathing, despite everything.
I dumped the cherry into the palm of my hand. It was sort of a wasteful thing to do, and sticky and gross, but I whipped it into the ocean. It ended up flying much further than I expected. I noticed a hand I hadn't seen in a while hovering just over mine. Star Platinum.
“Star Platinum,” I whispered, “The World.”
We could still do it. The waves froze in front of me. Raindrops suspended in air. It was only a few seconds, but I took the chance to just let the world stop turning. Even when it felt I’d lost my soul, life was going on all around me. It had to. Time stops for no one, but for me it's not enough to catch up with everyone else that leads a normal life. It was a cruel and jarring realization. And then the waves swept across the shore, once again.
Not much of an epiphany, but I guess I did think of something relevant that day.
9 notes · View notes
seokkgenie · 6 years
Text
De-stressing [M]
Based on an anon request.
Pairing: Xiumin x Reader
Genre: canon au, smut (phone sex?)
Words: 2.1k
You were the kind of person who avoided calling people unless it was absolutely necessary. You were convinced that the greatest advantage of living as a barely functioning adult in the twenty first century was the phenomena of text messaging.
However, in your current state, you were sure that you wouldn’t have the patience to type out your pain but you needed to rant to someone in order to avoid your brain from combusting into flames due to the sheer stress that you were under.
You dialed the first number on your speed dial, hoping sincerely that he wouldn’t be too busy to talk to you.
To your relief, he picked up after a few rings, “Hey, babe! What’s up? I was just about to text you.”
“I have to ask you a very important question. Think before you answer, alright?” you dove straight into it, making him nervous.
“Okay?” he said, unsure. “What is it?”
“Is it really that important to be able to afford food, clothes, a roof over my head and insurance?” you asked, looking at the mess that you had made in your living room. Papers were lying askew, multiple empty cups previously filled with coffee lined the surface of the table and your laptop had been plugged in to charge for what seemed like hours.
“Umm, I think so?” he said, a little relieved that you didn’t have a serious question, but were just being silly as usual. “Pretty sure you need all that to survive.”
You groaned. “Great, so I can’t quit my stupid job? You asked.
“You love your job.” He stated and you pouted.
“But, I hate the new manager!” you started your rant.
“I’m all ears.” Your boyfriend replied, completely accustomed to often hearing you whine about your problems to him, having known you for over a year.
“Okay, so, there’s this new client that hired us a few days back. They’re a big deal in the soap industry, so-“
He cut you off with a small laugh, “Soap?”
“Yeah, soap.” You said, rolling your eyes, “You were supposed to listen to me!”
“Sorry,” he apologized, still laughing, “Go on.”
“Where was I?” you tried to regain your train of thought, “Oh yes! This is going to be a nationwide advertising campaign. They want us to handle all the media promotions-tv, radio, print-the whole deal. This is a good thing, I know. We’ll get a raise if this goes well.”
“What’s the problem, then?” he asked. You could hear voices around him, and you knew that he was still at work, probably on a short break from practice.
“Well, the new manager is a total dickhead. He made me in charge of the account AND the presentation that had to be given to the client about the campaign ideas.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m already swarmed with the fast food joint commercial, the quarterly appraisal and I’m just so fucking done with this.”
“I understand,” he said, “Sometimes it can become too much, even if you love doing it.”
“I used to love the creative part of this profession, which is why I took it up in the first place, but now I can’t concentrate on anything, nor am I able to come up with any ideas. The team did this brainstorming session, but I have to compile all the ideas and come up with a sold plan.” You said, putting the laptop on the floor next to you and getting up to sit on the couch.
“Why are you doing this alone?” he asked.
“Because my boss is an asshole!” you yelled into the phone. “Help me, Minseok!” you say, exasperated. “My mind is completely blank but at the same time it’s a mess. Does that even make sense?!”
“Woah, babe, just calm down!” he said, and you heard someone calling his name and you sighed.
“You’re probably busy, I shouldn’t be bothering you.” You state.
“No, that was just Jongdae forcing me to go shopping with him, secretly hoping that I’ll buy him things.” He said, “I told him to fuck off because my girlfriend needs me right now.”
You laughed, “Tell Jongdae I said sorry.” You were so glad that you could hear Minseok’s voice. It always calmed you down. You always hesitated to video call each other because, he would always be surrounded by staff. “God, I wish you were here.”
“Me too, love.” He replied, “Wait, hold on, these idiots I call my members are being too fucking loud. I’m going to go to a quieter place.” You agreed to that and even as he moved away you could hear Baekhyun and Chanyeol yelling about something. You put the call on speaker as you waited ad pacing it next to you on the handle of the sofa.
“Still there?” he asked after a few seconds and you hum a yes in response. “Okay, listen, y/n. It’s normal to feel like this sometimes, trust me.”
“I’m just so worried that I won’t get shit done on time.” You said, your voice low with laced consternation. “What do I do~~!” you asked, burying your face in your hands.
“I think you need to take a short break. Destress, maybe. It’ll help you think straight afterwards.” He suggested and your ears perked up.
“What kind of distressing?” you asked, intrigued.
“It would be easier to show you if I were there.” You could almost hear the smirk in his tone.
You hadn’t been thinking about sex or about how much you missed him, but his suggestive tone definitely got you interested. “Well, too bad.”
“Babe, do you remember the night before I left?”
A wave of excitement passed through your body just thinking about that night. You both had been aware of the fact that he would be gone for quite a while, which meant that the sex would have to wait for quite a while too.
“Yeah.” You replied, gulping.
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” He said, and then added, “You’re really good, you know that?”
You didn’t exactly have a praise kink, but it didn’t hurt to hear that once in a while, especially from someone who was as attractive and desirable as Minseok.
You didn’t reply, and you could hear him breathing loudly in the silence that followed.
He said in a softer voice, “I’m already hard thinking about it.”
Your eyes widened at his confession, and you could feel a dull throbbing in your core, arousal pooling under your sweats. “it’s a good thing I came into an empty room.”
“W-why?” you breathed out, although you sort of knew the answer to that question.
“Because, y/n, I don’t want to get caught with my dick in my hand, getting off at just the thought of my beautiful girlfriend’s pussy.”
“Minseok!” you yelled, not expecting him to be so explicit. You were never good with the dirty talk, it always made you blush uncontrollably and left you awkward and speechless.
“I missed hearing you yell my name like that.” His breaths became more unsteady and just the image of him touching himself hearing your voice and thinking about you made your core ache. You bit your lip, contemplating if you should go ahead with what your body really wanted at this time.
You heard him moan softly, and that was the last straw. You put your hand down your sweats and began stroking yourself. Your breathing became very shallow, just like his and you felt like the room’s temperature had gone up by a few degrees.
Minseok seemed to catch on. “You aren’t wearing any panties right now, are you?” He knew you really well and was aware of the fact that you preferred to forego wearing any undergarments at home, especially when you were alone.
“No” you replied.
“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, and you had to bite your lip from the moan that was about to escape your mouth as a response. You were rubbing your clit roughly, jolts of pleasure running through your body.
“Hmmm” you hummed a response, unable to formulate words.
“Oh, shit,” you heard him curse. “Babe, how wet are you?”
You moved away your fingers for a second, taking a deep breath and deciding to let the desire do all the dirty talking that you weren’t sure you had in you.
“Wet enough that I’ll have to clean the couch later on.” You scoffed at your lame attempt and tried again, ‘Actually if you were here, I’d be dripping from the side of your chin.”
You closed your eyes, blushing.
You weren’t sure if you had underestimated yourself or if your boyfriend had really low expectations when it came to dirty talk, but he seemed to like what you had said. “Don’t stop touching yourself” he said, almost like it was an order.
You weren’t going to refuse, seeing as it would most definitely play to your advantage. You resumed your action on your clit, not bothering to silence the moan that escaped and concentrated on pleasuring yourself.
As soon as the sounds were elicited from your mouth, you could swear you heard the way in which his hands moved along his cock, the speed increasing. The sound reminded of you the last time he was with you, inside you. He hadn’t needed his hands that time, the slick noises had filled the room with each thrust of his dick. Your desire grew tenfold, and you closed your eyes, soaking in the sensation.
“Babe,” he breathed out, “Lick your fingers and put them in like I would.”
Your eyes popped open, wide with surprise, but also with anticipation. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, and waiting for gratification became more difficult.
You did as he asked, putting your index and middle fingers in your mouth, wetting them and after just a millisecond of hesitation, you pushed them into your slit, moaning again at the stretch.
You started slow, pushing in and out, trying to get used to the feeling of your fingers inside you, and then you slowly increased the pace to a steady rhythm.
You moved the phone closer with your free hand, not even thinking about what you were doing or saying anymore, “Can you hear it?” you asked, trying to be more rough in the way you pushed your digits in and out, the room filled with the sound of the squelching juices.
“Fuck,” he cursed, “You’re so fucking hot.”
He continued, “Curl your fingers and go as deep as you can.”
“Minseok,” you whimpered. As your digits curled, hitting your g-spot with every push.
Your free hand reached down to rub gentle circles on your clit, increasing your bliss.
“God, I can’t wait for your mouth to be around my dick.” He stated, and you hummed in agreement.
You couldn’t help the string of curses that left your mouth as you felt heat building your abdomen. You could feel the pleasure building rapidly, ready to burst and you said, “I’m gonna cum! Holy shit, Minseok, I-“
Your screams were cut off by his own, and you heard his moan as he reached his high, the thought of that making you reach your own. Your feet dug into the ground, and you lifted your hips involuntarily as euphoria took over your body. You rode out the orgasm, moaning his name and hearing him make sounds that sounded liked heaven to your ears.
You pulled your fingers out, panting and lying on your couch, looking up at the ceiling.
Minseok spoke, clearing his throat, “How do you feel?”
You answered quickly, “I feel great.”
He replied, “Great enough to not want to quit your job?”
Honestly, you had forgotten about your predicament while he was helping you de-stress. You groaned at the thought of having to go back to your workload, but surprisingly, you felt like you could handle it if you gave it some sincere thought.
“You’re sly,” you said, your mouth curling up into a smile.
“Did you mean, smart?” he asked, rhetorically.
“Okay, Dr Kim,” you started sarcastically, rolling your eyes, “I should probably get back to my work and you should too.” You said, sitting infront of your laptop once again. You decided to clean up yourself and the couch before getting back to formulating a new ad campaign. “After I clean up this mess” you muttered.
He laughed, “I didn’t know you could talk dirty, babe.” He added, “I’m impressed, I gotta say!”
‘Don’t sound so surprised!” you said, pouting at his words.
“You were always so vanilla,” he mused and you wanted to chastise him, taking offense even though he wasn’t completely wrong.
“Well,” you started, with a smirk. “Why don’t you come back home so I can show you just how kinky I can be.”
He laughed, and said “Cute.” You couldn’t help but laugh along at how unnatural the words sounded when it came out of your mouth.
Maybe the really kinky stuff had to wait until you get mind-numbingly stressed out again.
Masterlist 
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boneandfur · 6 years
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Closure [5]
Chapter Five ~ The Bodyguard (Drake)
Song: Runaways, The Killers
Words: 1765
Catch up:  Masterlist
Tag list: @drakewalkerwhipped @mfackenthal @alicars @youwontlikewherewewillgo @ninamckenzie22 @theroyalweisme @hopefulmoonobject @pbchoicesobsessed @topsyturvy-dream @viktoriapetit
Summary: Drake's obsession with Lilly has already destroyed three marriages. Why he stays at court is anyone's guess. But tonight is a night for intrigue and dark secrets -- and some people will do anything to discover them...
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"Are you Aunty Vannah's big brother?" Big bwuvver. 
Drake looks down at Sophy. She's been brushing, braiding and decorating  the grey pony's mane for half an hour, clearly in little girl heaven. "Yeah, Short Stuff. I'm her big brother. Guess that makes me your uncle in law." 
Sophy screws her face up thoughtfully. "Why?" 
"Because -- never mind. Just call me Uncle Drake, kid." It's uncanny, but this little girl could pass for the miniature version of Liam's mother. She has that Rys look about her too. For a long time he'd thought she was his daughter too, but now, meeting her face to face at last, he's not so sure. Hell, the entire foundation he built his life on cracked when he met Lilly that night in New York City. What's one more? 
"Tell me about yourself, kid. What's your favorite color?" 
Sophy frowns at him. "Silver, silly! But Mummy made me wear this. I don't like it." She has a temper. It would be painfully adorable if Drake were a sentimental man (he isn't). "Is Aunty Vannah here? I miss Percy." For a long moment he thinks she might cry, but she composes herself admirably. She is strangely self-possessed for a mere seven year old. 
Percival. Drake's nephew is a mischevious, dark haired child of four, about to start école maternelle in the autumn. He has a stuffed hippo he takes everywhere with him. Drake has always found it to be an odd attachment, but now he is beginning to wonder, a suspicion creeping into his mind. Savannah has never shared why she left Bertrand a second time, throwing herself into her career as a freelance columnist in Paris. Bartie and Percy look as alike as cheese and chalk. Bartie looks like Drake and Savannah's side of the family, and Percy... Drake runs a hand across his face. Percival Maxwell Beaumont. 
"Yeah, maybe. Do you want me to ask her?" Savannah covers the European nobility beat. It is her connections to the Cordonian court that got her the job in the first place, without a university degree she would have been doing menial work. He has to acknowledge -- grudgingly, but still -- that their royal patronage has come in handy. For two kids who grew up on the fringes of the Cordonian court, they couldn't have done better. 
Whether or not they could have done worse remains to be seen. Sometimes, Drake thinks he's already had a lifetime of courtly intrigue twice over. No wonder Savannah ran twice. 
"Please," Sophy says, batting her lashes. She looks so much Lilly in that instant that it rocks Drake to his core. 
Are you coming tonight? he texts Savannah.
Yes, I'm just pulling in. Nervous. It's been awhile. Why, is my big brother worried for me?
Lilly's here. 
He can almost see her grimace on the other end. Fuck. Thanks for warning me. 
What's the problem? LOL
You of all people should know the answer to that, Drake!! >:(
Does it have to do with my nephews?? Because you might want to brace yourself, their fathers are here too. With that, he silences his phone. He's no Cupid, but maybe at least one couple can walk away happy this night. 
At that thought, his gaze falls on Jack. He's feeding an apple to his pony, talking in a soft voice to it as he looks deeply into its eyes. Drake's heart leaps in his chest. 
When Olivia had first broken the news of her pregnancy to him, he'd run away -- straight into Lilly's arms. Lilly had stoked his greatest fears about Olivia's fidelity as they drank whiskey together, and then she had kissed him. He'd fallen into her familiar arms, drunk on the scent of her arousal, wanting nothing except to forget the world with his cock buried in Lilly. And he had -- Oh, God, he had. And every time he tried to end it, there was always another (small, helpless) reason he could never cut the ropes that bound them together. 
I can't leave him, Lilly would sob, so wretched that he hated both her and himself. Who else would have me? 
He would. How many times had he begged her to run away with him, to the ends of the earth and beyond? But she always had an excuse, always had some unarguable reason to stay with Maxwell. Irresponsible Maxwell, frittering away their fortunes in the casinos of the Cote d' Ore. 
As for proud Olivia, she had become Liam's mistress in truth, and it was easier to believe that Jack was Liam's son, rather than take the responsibility for abandoning his own child. Yet he'd stayed at court, never able to stray far, never able to forget Olivia despite his failed marriages, despite his obsession with Lilly.
His lust for Lilly has already ruined three marriages. She is his downfall, his greatest addiction. When he fucks her, it feels both wrong and right. She always claimed Beaumont didn't know how to please her, that he couldn't make her come. But it's painfully obvious to anyone with eyes that Maxwell is still in love with the woman. Maybe he never got the memo. 
Well, he certainly has now. 
Drake's glad these children aren't in the ballroom. Jack is one thing -- with Olivia for a mother, he always lands on his feet. Just what was Lilly thinking, bringing Sophy along? 
She's just like me, Drake, Lilly told him once. She needs to learn how to be strong. When I was her age, my childhood was already over, and I didn't even know it. She needs to be prepared. Pull one stick out, and the whole structure collapses. You think your life is hard? You've had it easy. 
Lilly never would explain further, but her words chilled Drake to the core. My childhood was already over... Lilly never shared anything about her past with him. It was as if she'd arrived in Cordonia newly brought alive from clay by the gods, as though she'd had no life before this one. 
And there are not many records on her either. Bastien has shared the background check with Drake, and back then he hadn't cared, but now he wonders. He has so many questions for Lilly. Whoever she is. 
Nothing beyond a registration for a social security number some twenty three years before, and a slew of hospital records. After fourteen, there is nothing. Radio silence. She claims she went to university, but where? Under what name? In this day and age it's nearly unthinkable that a person can fly under the radar for so long. 
"I thought you'd be in here." Savannah hugs Drake, setting down her clutch, a black and gold Prada. She is wearing a press badge and is dressed like a Parisian, all black clothes and an air of elegance despite the shadows under her eyes. She looks at Jack and Sophy, then back at Drake, but says nothing. Little ruffles Savannah these days. 
"Aunty Vannah!" Sophy squeals, flinging herself into Savannah's arms. "Did you bring Percy?" 
"I did not," Savannah says in a soft voice. "He is asleep, I have a nice girl watching after him and Bartie at the hotel. This is a party for grown-ups, Sophy."
Sophy frowns, stamping her foot. "Mummy said it was a party for me."
Savannah's eyes meet Drake's over Sophy's head. Her mouth is pressed in a thin, unforgiving line. "Where is Lilly?"
"Dancing with Liam." The hurt those words would once bring has faded to a mere echo. "A solid power play by House Beaumont. Their star is rising. Olivia is... unpredictable. Hana wants her out." 
Savannah smiles, stroking his cheek. "My big brother, who hates all nobles, talking about courtly intrigue?" 
Drake stiffens. Sophy has joined Jack on the other side of the ring, their heads bent together, whispering. He turns his attention back to Savannah. "They're not nobles. They're my friends."
"Even Olivia?" she teases him lightly. "I remember there was a time when you were head over heels for her. And she -- well, she's always been in love with you." 
Drake remembers -- a screaming match and then a scorching kiss, Olivia in his arms until the sun rose, waking in surprise to find her in his arms, curled up against him like she had always belonged there. Yes, Olivia. He sighs. "I never thought I'd fuck this life up so bad, Vannah."
She laughs, and he's glad to hear it. Savannah has had little enough joy in her life besides her children, since she went away. "You didn't fuck your life up, Drake." 
"No, but I --"
"Here." Savannah passes him a Polaroid photo from her purse. "Gemma, Talia, Annelyse and Valentina." Four little girls with his mother's eyes stare up at him from the glossy paper. "Do you think their lives would be any easier if they lived with you?"
"How can you ask me that?" Drake chokes, overcome with emotion. "They'd be my little girls and they'd live --"
"Here at the palace, while their mother fucked the king? Or a hand to mouth life on the run?" Savannah shakes her head. "And what about Sophy and Sei? Would you take their mother from them as well?" 
Drake clenches his jaw. "Why did you show me this, if you were only going to break my heart again? Are you a monster?" 
"Of course not," Savannah whispers. Her eyes glitter in the lantern's light, and he can see that she is crying. "I want to help you."
"Well, you have a funny way of showing it."
"Listen to me, Drake. Maxwell is the only father those girls know. You don't know how much he loves them. He'd give anything to keep them safe." 
"What are you implying?" Drake demands. "Blackmail?" 
"One star falls and another rises. Such is the way of the court. With their star on the rise, House Beaumont will want to sweep everything shady about Lilly under the rug. I've already made the  arrangements with Bertrand. The girls will live with me in Paris, except..." she turns her head, her eyes going wide in shock. "Sophy? Sophy!" 
Drake feels his heart sink like a stone. "Jack!" He shouts, his heart in his throat. "This isn't time for games, Jackson Nevrakis! Come out right now!" 
But the children do not answer. Sophy and Jack have vanished, as if they've never been. Only a scrap of green fabric flutters sadly on the edge of the corral, twisting and turning in the wind. 
==
Ecole maternelle - kindergarten
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yung-ragnar · 6 years
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Homework: Trailblazers
By 2057, ships capable of sending humans to other solar systems were possible. What was once a trip thought to last thousands of years was shortened to about 150 years thanks to the new engines scientists would be outfitting the new ships with. All was made in due time as well since colonization was at its peak; humanity has settled all of the planets in the Solar System and has set its eyes towards SS-024, a nearby solar system.
"We're nervous of course." one of the chief scientists responsible for the Trailblazer Engine, aptly named because of the blue trail it left behind and because of it being the first ever engine developed to take humans to other stars, said when asked by a reporter. "By 2039 planetary colonization efforts of the Solar System were taking off. By 2051, most of the planets were settled by humanity using colony bases on the ground or in orbit. In just 6 years after the colonizing missions, we're already prepping to go to a nearby star. It's exciting and scary at the same time, we've never done something like this before." We've never done something like this before, words most pioneers speak before doing something that breaks the mold.
300 people were chosen to go on this adventure, most of them were scientists and engineers with a couple of ordinary people. All of them were going to be the first humans in another solar system. As they loaded up inside the ships one by one, they kept that thought in their heads.
The ships, 7 in all, left Earth at 2052 and headed for SS-024. Amenities like gyms, cinemas, and e-readers containing thousands of books were included in the ships in order to make their journey more pleasant. Being generational ships, the older people would eventually die, but not before imparting the knowledge they had to their children; their replacements and the ones to carry on the mission. Each ship elected a leader to make decisions for them as a society, separate to the decisions the Captain makes for the ship.
"The Mayor, basically the leader we elected, makes the decisions on like, whose block's turn is it to clean the ship, or if we need to up the population or put everyone on birth control before we get overpopulated. The Captain decides on things like whose turn is it to pilot the ships,  or whose turn is it to turn off the lights inside the ship. Things that don't affect us as a society unless you have a problem with lights." a crewmember states contrasting the two positions. "But honestly, if there was an emergency, the ship got damaged or maybe aliens attacked us or something, you know the Captain knows what to do in scenarios like that. Hell, our Captain’s the formal admiral of the 11th fleet."
The years went on, 143 to be exact. The older generation died and passed on what they knew to their children who continued the mission but lacked the spirit their parents had. "By the 58th year of the mission, the residents of the Asimov went crazy." Drake Ekards, the current Mayor of the Clarke tells us. "The eggheads say it had something to do with being in space too long, they felt isolated. Alone."  What followed was the war that would ravage the fleet. "They wanted to turn back you know? Return back home to Earth, get the feeling of being with others again. But they couldn't do it without the food and meds we needed to live out here. Water you could make that from your piss. But food and medicine? You had to grow those and as far as I know, only the Orwell had the labs to grow them."
By January 2 of 2110 the Asimov with the help of 2 other ships, Herbert and Pratchett, launched an attack on the Orwell with the goal of taking over the ship for their food labs. "My grandfather fought in that war actually," Ekards says about Daemon Ekards, "they tried to hail Lewis when they realized they were headed straight for them. A lot of people died the moment they hit." The Lewis was unable to breach the Orwell though. "The other ships quickly rallied to the Orwell's defense," says Thomas Davids, one of the last members of the older generation who fought in the war. "you had ships ramming each other. We didn't have weapons on the ships so we just rammed the hell out of each other."
Over the course of 3 days, the battle went on. "On the third day, I think it was a Saturday, Ripley tore a hole inside The Asimov." That was the beginning of the end. Crewmembers of Clarke and Ripley breached inside the Asimov and a fight ensued inside. Herbert and Pratchett tried to ram Orwell from opposite sides in an effort to take the labs again but comically hit each other instead when the Orwell evaded at the last minute. The ships exploded when the Pratchett hit Herbert's engine core. In the meanwhile, the Asimov was overwhelmed. Most of the crew and the civilian population inside were either killed or surrendered. "In the end, we lost two ships, the Herbert and Pratchett, and damaged the Asimov badly we had to tow it." Duncan Oscars, the resident historian of the fleet said as he showed a photo of the 3 ships.
The enthusiasm for the mission waned since. Some of the fleet's population became depressed because of the losses they suffered. Suicides became common then causing the population of the fleet to fall. The Mayors of each ship turned to encouraging the other members of the ships to have sex more often in order to offset the losses. Their children and the children that came after became more and more disillusioned with the mission. Ekards, in particular, lost a friend because of it. "I remember Ryan saying that when he was little his mother was talking up how we were going to do good things, how we were going to be pioneers of something that has never been done before. He committed suicide on his 21st birthday. He left a note saying that we were irrelevant, that we were relics." Ekards' spirits are high though, 7 years before their expected arrival at their new home. "We haven't even burned through half of the movies in the cinemas so we have that going for us."
The alarms on the Clarke blared, waking Ekards and just about everyone else asleep aboard the ship. 150 years into their mission, the fleet finally made it into SS-024. Applauses and cheers roared throughout the ships, that is until an unknown ship flew past them. A voice rang out in their radios much to their horror. "State your intent or be met with a force capable of wiping you from existence." The ships were silent. In the bridge of the Clarke, Eckards called the Mayors of the other ships on the radio, beside him was the current Captain Leroy Jenkins.
The question was simple. What do we do? One of the Mayors asked for the fleet to turn back, her Captain seemed to support this idea. Another said they came a long way, why not just tell them their intent? The Mayors and Captains debated with each other for minutes until the voice came back, more aggressive this time. "Alright, I already alerted my superiors to their presence they're already sending me help. Let's not make this a massacre" Everyone on the call became silent. Until Leroy spoke up. "I think Eckards can decide for us." It wasn't a bad idea, he did prevent a second war and most of the time he was the most outspoken of the Mayors, sometimes even deciding things for them. Another minute passed, Ekards could see a fleet of ships amassing outside from his window. Without waiting for the decision of the other Mayors, he spoke to the voice on the radio. First, he told the voice who they were and where they came from. "We are humans, natives of the Solar System." The voice on the other line was silent as if it was waiting for something. Outside, Ekards saw that the fleet was preparing their weapons. "We are ships from the Trailblazer Mission. We come in peace." Silence still preceded Ekards. A moment later, another voice came on the radio, this time it was a different one. "By God, so you guys are true!" said the voice on the other line.
The fleet led the trailblazers towards a nearby space station. One after another, the people inside the ships peered outside the windows. They saw other ships and space stations bearing the flag of Earth. It wasn't long until they realized they weren't the trailblazers. Someone else came first. As they made their way towards the dock of the space station, Ekard thought back to Ryan's note. They became relics of the past.
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wilsherejack · 7 years
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andreil. " but i do love you" pls
@snappleeducated​ said: if you’re not too overloaded with prompts and feel inclined to do this one, i’d love to see andreil + 19?? if you’re busy or this isn’t sparking any ideas though, don’t worry about it! :) thank you for all the amazing writing you create either way
19: “You won’t scareme away.” 
Andrew doesn't lie. It's core to how he sees and interacts with the world. He gives half-truths sometimes, or talks around the truth, or says things he believes to be true that he later discovers aren't really, but he doesn't lie.
He doesn't expect as much from everyone else. Kevin is an awful liar unless he's lying to the public. Nicky lies about being happy all the time. Aaron isn't even worth mentioning.
Even Neil is a liar by habit, the standard “I'm fine” dropping out of his mouth before he can control it and staying there unless Kevin or Wymack or Andrew gives him a dirty enough look. He's not as good at lying to Andrew now as he was before, not that Andrew ever believed him, but when it happens now it alerts Andrew to something being seriously wrong, which isn't something Neil would ever admit to anyway. So in a way, maybe it's good to hear Neil's pathetic attempts at lying to him.
But this lie is unforgivable.
It's bad enough that the moment Andrew heard it he got in his car and drove back to Palmetto, leaving Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, and Neil alone in Columbia. He got absolutely no sleep alone in the dorms, ate breakfast alone in the dining hall, idled for as long as possible, drove back to pick them up, ignored Neil's offer to drive back to Palmetto, and blasted the radio when Nicky tried to protest.
Now they're back at school, everyone shuffling off to their respective bedrooms, Kevin dipping into the library with his laptop to study or maybe to try to give Neil and Andrew space.
Not that they need space. Or anything, Andrew thinks, digging a new lighter out of his drawer and shoving it into his back pocket with unnecessary aggression.
“Andrew,” Neil says. “We need to talk about this.”
“I,” Andrew says, “don't need anything.”
He brushes past Neil and takes the steps two at a time to the roof.
The first thing he does once he's up there is light a cigarette.
The second thing he does is walk right up to the ledge, as close as he can get to the edge of the roof without falling off, and look down.
The feeling of fear is familiar, a heady rush that makes him dizzy and leaves him wondering what it would be like, really, to fall. He shouldn't be as afraid of heights as he is. It's irrational, the one part of his fucked up psyche that can't be traced back to any of the trauma in his past and refuses any kind of treatment.
But he doesn't mind. He looks down and thinks about the drop—about the image of his body as it falls, about the wind loud in his ears, about how long it would take him to hit the ground. The aftermath: sirens, loud, Aaron looking shocked, Neil looking—
It's an unproductive line of thought. Andrew backs up just enough to sit down, lets his legs hang off the edge, and ashes his cigarette into the wind.
He's there for half an hour before there's the familiar sound of someone opening the door and not quite closing it all the way. He hates Neil, the clockwork of him, the expectation that he'd show up eventually. When did Neil stop thinking of this as temporary? When did Andrew?
Neil sits down next to him, close enough to touch but far enough that Andrew would have to reach, and Andrew hates that, too, hates that level of understanding, hates that even now Neil is reaching for a cigarette and carefully not touching Andrew to get it.
They sit in silence for a while. Andrew smokes. Neil only has a drag or two.
“You know, the smell used to remind me of my mother,” Neil says. “Now mostly it only reminds me of you. Maybe you buy the wrong brand.”
Layers of hate.
They slip back into silence.
“You don't have to say it back,” Neil says eventually.
“Say it back?” Andrew says. “I can barely stand the sight of you. Most of the time I want to push you off the roof or slit your throat or—” but threatening Neil has been boring for months. He can never come up with any good ones anymore, and anyway Neil just brushes them off and grins at him like he's being charming.
“You're not going to scare me off,” Neil says. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Know what? That you, like everyone else, say foolish things when you are drunk? You love me? We both know neither of us is capable of—”
“But I do love you,” Neil says, like he's as sure of it as he is of his own name, or something more permanent, like exy, the sunrise, death. “If you don't want to say it because—you don't have to. I know how you feel about me. I wanted you to know too.”
Andrew crushes the remains of his cigarette in his hand and finds that he's shaking too hard to light another. Neil wordlessly hands over his own.
It's quiet again, for a time. Andrew smokes in silence. Neil doesn't take another cigarette, just leans back on his arms and stares up at the sky. The sun is setting, turning the clouds violet and gleaming orange from behind them.
When Andrew looks, Neil is almost smiling, face soft.
“What?” Neil says.
“Yes or no?” Andrew says.
It's an old question, one that's been almost exclusively relegated to trying new things in bed in the years since that first kiss on this very roof, but Neil turns to look at him anyway, smile growing.
“Yes,” he says.
Andrew leans in, cups a hand around the back of Neil's neck to bring him closer, and kisses him. Neil is warm, skin soft, lips as willing as they always are with Andrew to give and give and give—
“I believe you,” Andrew says.
That smile again.
Andrew is going to kill him.
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patheticphallacy · 4 years
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I want to disclose before I even start this post that the day I started writing this, BookTube came out with a whole load of videos inspired by Jin’s birthday that follows the exact same concept. I promise I’m not trying to plagiarise any of their ideas behind the videos, I’ve been planning this series of posts for months! This is a link to a whole playlist of those videos that meltotheany created, I highly recommend watching. 
If you haven’t been around the past year, I have fallen very deep into the BTS rabbit hole. I was always aware of BTS, because I’ve listened to K-Pop for a few years alongside my other music interests, but it was only once I got into BTS in April this year that I fully dedicated invested myself to actually listening to their music as a whole.
With music obsessions comes associating random things with the people in the group, and, as a result, I came up with a whole load of books that remind me of the members of BTS, as well as individual songs/albums/concepts/etc., so I’m… starting another blog series!
Starting off: BOOKS TO READ BASED ON YOUR BIAS. I love all of them, but I always think of my favourite as the one who, if they are in teams, I always hope they will be the one to win the challenge. I’ve done this for pretty much everything I enjoy.
For me, the person I always want to win is Jin, so I’m going to go eldest to youngest, recommending books that remind me of them.
KIM SEOKJIN
Sadie by Courtney Summers: While Jin is very down to Earth and willing to dick around with the younger members of the group, he is very protective and has his serious moments. Sadie is a dual narrative following teenager Sadie as she hunts for the man that she believes murdered her younger sister. It’s a very difficult read– content warnings for pedophilia, sexual abuse, and violence– but I feel like it hits hard when you’re the eldest sibling, which Jin technically is. 
The Adventure Zone: Here There Be Gerblins by the McElroy’s and Carey Pietsch: Okay, so this is a very different approach to Jin, but Taako… really reminds me of him? I can’t shake the vibes. My original notes for this post literally just say ‘look: jin and taako have the same energy’, I am adamant. 
The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin: Another sad pick unfortunately! The Immortalists follows four siblings who all learn the dates they’re going to die, and the book follows them in order. It’s kind of a tragic read, but the exploration of mortality and fate is great. The familial relationships are complicated and layered, with people drifting apart, and as an older sister, it’s quite terrifying to look into the future and realise I’ve got my whole life ahead of me with these people I’ve grown up with. And that, again, reminds me of Jin.
Scott Pilgrim VS The World Series by Bryan Lee O’Malley: Finish off on a happy one! Jin likes video games, and Scott Pilgrim reads a lot like a video game, if that’s possible. It’s about a guy in his twenties who is kind of a loser and has to beat his new girlfriend’s evil exes. Quite a popular read, and the movie is solid, but the graphic novels are just better. They have more Wallace Wells, and Wallace is a character I could see Jin appreciating.
MIN YOONGI
Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink: If it’s possible for a book about a woman searching for her dead wife and accidentally uncovering a world of horror to be quiet, Alice Isn’t Dead accomplishes that. Keisha Taylor, our main character, openly struggles with her anxiety throughout, and Yoongi is very open about mental health and struggling to carry on. The book is about finding your strength and refusing to accept apologies until you’re ready to accept them, and I think Yoongi would like the messages this book sends.
I Want to Eat Your Pancreas by Yoru Sumino: Another one I struggle to explain. A teenage boy finds the diary of his classmate, who is suffering from a pancreatic disease and isn’t certain she’ll live through it. A boundary-crossing friendship blooms between the two, and there are so many unexpected moments. It’s a real tearjerker, I’ll tell you that. Something about how real the narrative is makes me think of Yoongi.
Radio Silence/I Was Born For This by Alice Oseman: Yoongi is, again, very open about struggling with his mental health, and mental health is quite a big theme in both of these books. Radio Silence is focused on the pursuit of what makes you happy in a world telling you to focus on academics instead of being creative, a very Yoongi theme; and I Was Born For This has a POV of a frontman of a boy band who struggles with anxiety and is disillusioned with fame.
The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo: Just now realising all of my choices for Yoongi are super serious, which is going to be the direct opposite of the next member. The Poet X is written in verse– a great introduction to the form– and follows a young girl who struggles and attempts to understand her mother’s religion through the poetry she writes. Xiomara’s passion for the form is so beautiful and she flourishes in writing, truly feeling herself when she’s performing, and I think that’s something I see in Yoongi, too.
JUNG HOSEOK
The Monster of Elendhaven by Jennifer Giesbrecht: This is a very strange choice, but let me explain. Personality wise, Hoseok is a Gemini: very happy and hopeful, but his mood switches can be scary as heck. The Monster of Elendhaven made me laugh out loud, but it’s really dark– the narrator is a serial killer in a miserable fantasy world, and the main relationship is toxic but entirely consensual. It’s bizarre, and the contradictions remind me of Hoseok. Also, if you search up Hoseok’s Cypher 4 Live outfit where he looks like a Victorian aristocrat about to do nefarious science, he’s exactly how I picture Herr Leikenbloom.
Lumberjanes written by various: Lumberjanes is a series I’ve read for literal years, and it’s the right balance of lighthearted and heartfelt that it reminds me of Hoseok. Ripley, one of the main girls, is so energetic and passionate that I can’t help but think of Hoseok! Lumberjanes is set at a camp where our characters go on fantastical adventures and have to save the day, even if nobody else knows the day is being saved.
Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne: Don’t @ me, Winnie the Pooh is everything to me and I won’t be shamed for my passion. So many of the stories turn into ones of hope and friendship, literally the core of Pooh’s character, and Hoseok is like that for me. Him and Jimin, honestly, but Jimin isn’t until later! No getting ahead of myself!
Bravest Warriors by various: You can tell I love my comedies, can’t you? Bravest Warriors constantly edges on ridiculous, reminiscent of Adventure Time, and I love it for how scatter brained and funny it is. It’s just fun, plain and simple, and I think that’s good for us sometimes. Remembering to enjoy yourself, even when the going gets tough, which Hoseok shows.
KIM NAMJOON
In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan: Namjoon, as the leader, has to be very in control and can sometimes seem like he’s drawing himself out of the fun in interviews to focus, but is very driven to change things for the better. In Other Lands focuses on Elliott, a boy who finds himself at a magical school and, against the expectations of magical society, begins to change it from the inside out using pacifism, quick wit and a reluctance to do anything energetic, but finds himself ostracised for it. I think Elliott staying true to his own nature and finding happiness even when it’s difficult is admirable, and also very much a Namjoon thing to do.
Aquicorn Cove by Katie O’Neill: After losing her mother, Lana moves to an island and begins to uncover a hidden magical world that’s at risk because of over-fishing. It’s a soft take on a wider issue, but Katie O’Neill is very good at handling themes like this and making them explicit without losing direction. I think Namjoon would really enjoy O’Neill’s work, but this especially is a very current issue.
No One Is Too Small to Make a Difference by Greta Thunberg: Speak yourself! Express your passions! Greta Thunberg is the embodiment of ‘speaking yourself’ and changing the world for the better, no matter who tries to knock you down.
Taproot by Keezy Young: I don’t know what it is about this that reminds me of Namjoon. In Taproot, Blue is a ghost, and haunting Hamal, his best friend whom he is in love with. There’s a focus on natural colours because Hamal works as a gardener, but it can be quite dark at times, looking at loss and fear of moving on. It just yells ‘Namjoon’ to me. I’ve definitely focused on more environment-focused writing for him.
PARK JIMIN
Truly Devious by Maureen Johnson: I like to describe Jimin as being sweet, but the most likely to commit a crime and get away with it, especially amongst the other members of BTS. So many of Stevie’s actions in this book as she investigates an unsolved crime remind me of Jimin, just because only he could get away with it. He’s been voted as one of the top idols like, 50 times, he’s very intimidating. If I caught him sneaking through my belongings, I’d be too scared to say anything.
Check, Please! by Ngozi Ukazu: Yes, Jimin is intimidating, but I also said he’s sweet, and Eric Bittle is the exact same. Bitty becomes a hockey player after years of competing as a professional figure skater, and finds himself making a home amongst men a lot bigger and a lot physically tougher than him. He overcomes a lot of hardships and works hard, and that’s something you see in Jimin’s dancing and own behaviours in being a part of BTS.
Neverworld Wake by Marisha Pessl: God, this is the exact same reasoning as Truly Devious, I’m sorry. I just really do think Jimin could be sneaky and get away with what these characters do! Neverworld Wake follows a young woman who reunites with her highschool friends and finds herself in a Groundhog Day scenario, repeating the same day over and over again as they attempt to uncover who murdered her boyfriend the year before. It’s very dark and atmospheric, I adore it.
Lovely Complex by Aya Nakahara: I’ll be honest, I’m mostly saying this series because Jimin is short. Lovely Complex follows Risa, an incredibly tall girl, and Atsushi, a boy well below expected height, who become reluctant friends in their pursuit to find romance. It’s very light and cute, probably one of the easiest manga series I’ve ever read.
KIM TAEHYUNG
Animals by Emma Jane Unsworth: This is almost a joint pick with Jimin. Animals follows a young woman in her twenties who parties more than she probably should with her American roommate. Her life slowly begins to unravel as she notices more faults in her relationships, and begins to question if this is what she actually wants from life. There’s something about people in their mid-to-late-twenties partying and making terrible decisions as they have a crisis that reminds me of Taehyung, just because him and the rest of the group have been so open with how much he’s changed and attempted to make himself into a more in-control person.
Snotgirl by Bryan Lee O’Malley: Look. Taehyung is very bougie, and Snotgirl follows socialite and fashion blogger Lottie as she tries to combat her chronic allergies and not get sent to prison for murder. It’s a very exciting series, the characters are self-centred and awful, and I think Taehyung would love it. They are all rich and dress impeccably.
If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio: Taehyung is an actor, we all know this, and If We Were Villains follows several actors at a prestigious (and fictional) conservatory specialising in Shakespearean acting who end up embroiled in a murder plot. It’s dark academia a la The Secret History, but its focus on Shakespeare means it’s much suited to Taehyung. Dark, dangerous and dramatic.
I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson: I couldn’t not have a book on art in here when I’m talking about Taehyung, and it was only going through shelves upon shelves that made me realise I have read so few books on art. I’ll Give You the Sun is a dual narrative novel, following artist twins Jude (in the present) and Noah (3 years in the past) as they tackle romance, art and loss. There are so many twists and turns, and the writing is beautiful.
JEON JUNGKOOK
A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay: Ah, the book that started it all. This is the one I’m most confident in. We follow eight year old Merry, who finds herself and her family exploited in a reality TV show based on the assumed demonic possession of her older sister, Marjorie. It’s a very difficult read. Even though it’s not clear cut, Merry clearly loves her older sister and wants her to be okay, and that’s something that reminds me of Jungkook. He’s said more than once that watching the older members of the band struggle has impacted him most throughout their career, and that’s really embedded in the narrative of this novel.
The Avant-Guards by Carly Usdin: I had to pick at least one athletic narrative for Jungkook, okay. In this series we follow former sports star Charlie, who ends up being recruited by the basketball team at her new College, and begins to carve a place for herself where she belongs. It’s an easy story and all of the characters are likeable, balancing out the competitive nature of the characters. Jungkook is someone who works out a lot but also comes across as very happy, and that’s what these characters are like!
The Magnus Chase Trilogy by Rick Riordan: One of the things I love about Jungkook is how much he cares about the other members of BTS, and Magnus Chase is exactly the same. He almost becomes a background character in the later books in order to help his friends succeed, and it’s that trait that saves their lives in the end. This is actually my favourite Rick Riordan series, so do with that what you will!
Heavy Vinyl by Carly Usdin: I literally only just realised I’ve recommended two Carly Usdin comic series’s for Jungkook, so that must mean she just writes very Jungkook-esque comics. Heavy Vinyl is set in the late 90’s and follows Chris, who has just got a job working at her favourite record store. Only there’s a bit more to the store than first meets the eye, and she’s about to be embroiled in something far larger than she ever expected. I think the active qualities of Carly Usdin’s characters remind me of Jungkook, very willing to involve themselves and do what’s right.
And those are all my recommendations!
I would love to know if you agree with any of my choices, and if you have any you’d suggest. It was so fun working on this post and I cannot wait to work on future posts in the series.
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BTS and Books #1: Books to Read Based on Your Bias I want to disclose before I even start this post that the day I started writing this, BookTube came out with a whole load of videos inspired by Jin's birthday that follows the exact same concept.
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