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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

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Drive Me Insane

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is always getting on your nerves. Tensions rise and one day, he pulls you into the file room and snaps… just not in the way you think….

A/N: Early-Season-Twelve!Spencer. this is full-on HATE SEX fulfilling this request by @safertokiss and this request by @mggswhore. It’s rough and v sexy and angsty. Gif is mine! Enjoy! <3

tags: smut, penetrative sex, hate sex, enemies to lovers, angry sex.

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 4,363

MASTERLIST

You fucking hated him! You HATED him!

“REID!” storming out of the elevator, you headed straight for the desk of the asshole who had pulled the worst prank ever. “What the fuck is this?!” you screamed, slamming your coffee cup down on his desk, the beverage slightly spilling onto his work papers.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘hey’ me!” you were trembling with anger, bouncing on the balls of your feet and trying to ignore the people staring around you. “Explain yourself!”

The little cockfuck put on the most innocent expression you’d ever seen him manage.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, more to the onlookers than you. “Is there a problem?”

“Did you put him up to this? Did you tell him to write that?”

“Write what?”

Huh. He actually looked genuinely confused. But you weren’t buying it. You knew how evil he could be, always teasing you, correcting you, moving your stuff around, pulling pranks. If it weren’t for his stupid, pouty face, you’d slap the look right off of it. Oh, and you were coworkers but that was honestly more of an afterthought.

When it came to Spencer Reid, there was nothing that could stop you from exacting your revenge. Except maybe Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Who, conveniently, hadn’t arrived yet.

“Don’t bullshit me, Reid! You fucking told the barista downstairs to give me some phony number! What’s the joke? I call it and it’s a phone sex line? A suicide hotline? What?!”

But Spencer simply stared at the cup, mouth dropped open and staring at the ten neatly written digits gracing the side of your coffee cup, a little heart to the side of them.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I didn’t… I didn’t do this, Y/N.”

A refute to that was on the tip of your tongue but he suddenly looked at you and you noticed a slight tint to his cheeks that for some reason, had you believing him.

“Wait…. You mean…?”

“Yep.” He stood suddenly, chair flying out from behind him with the force with which he stood. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer. Excuse me,” he grunted, storming off down the hall, leaving you thoroughly perplexed.

“What…. What just happened?”

Tara approached you, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

“You got a dude’s number and thought it was a prank by Reid. Happens to the best of us.”

Well, yeah, that was rather obvious. You were more referring to the fact that he had stormed off once he came to the same realization.

But, as always, before you could think for too long, Garcia sent out a mass text alerting you to a new case. Your contemplation would have to wait for another time.

“Maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see him?”

The team was gathered around a roundtable in the dingy police office of Wamego, Kansas, discussing why the unsub was dumping the bodies so far on the outskirts of town.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Reid blurted, gesturing toward a map of the area. “There are more than enough areas to hide a body within the town’s limits. Plus, he dumped in the middle of the day so being seen isn’t his issue, he can hide easily in plain sight. The edge of town somehow connects to his comfort zo…. What?”

He trailed off once he noticed the grumpy look on your face. It wasn’t like you could help it! He was always refuting every little thing you said and constantly interrupting everyone.

“Well, Reid, if he’s so interested in the edge of town, why are all his victims abducted from the town square?”

Spencer stepped closer to you, eyes narrowing and lips turning downward.

“Maybe, Y/N,” he bit back, “he’s not picking these women at random, but targeting those he sees that look so obviously vulnerable. His end goal is to dominate them.”

“Seriously? Alexa Wells was a blue belt in karate and Tala Williams took a regular self-defense class. There was nothing vulnerable about these women at all!”

“If you weren’t so busy fretting over their physical capabilities maybe you would have noticed, they both possess a petite stature, making them more susceptible to attack.”

He was towering over you and staring at you with anger in his eyes. You, too, were having to fight back the urge to scream at him.

“So, what, you’re saying everyone with a small stature is asking to be dominated!”

“Nope, just you.”

He looked more shocked at his words than you did, taking a step back and glancing around the room for a moment before referring back to the map.

“I’m-I’m saying that the-the victims were all-all small—of-of small stature and that’s a-that’s a connection. Excuse me.”

And he bustled out of the room, leaving behind an audience of your coworkers whose gaze fell on you. Uncomfortable with the weight of their eyes on you, you excused yourself as politely as you could despite the anger and confusion rising in your throat. You didn’t return until you managed to compose yourself, and by then, the team had a new lead and Reid’s outburst was forgotten.

But not by you.

If the word ‘hate’ was a face, to you, it’d be Reid’s. To be fair, his face did possess a very… slappable quality. But, of course, you’d never act on that impulse. He never could quite push you to that edge. But, oh god, he got close sometimes.

Jesus. It was nearly 6:00 AM and you’d gotten a text about fifteen minutes ago from Garcia, summoning you in. Now, sitting in the briefing room, your thoughts had begun to wander into very vulnerable territory.

“Y/N?”

His voice grated your ears like sandpaper, the perfect tool to snap you out of your reverie. Why the hell did he have to arrive so goddamn early?

“Yes, Reid?” you replied, putting on the most bored voice you could manage, not even bothering to spare him a glance as he sat down in the seat immediately next to you, shrugging off his shoulder bag.

“Why are you here so early?”

You looked at him, startled by the question. Who the hell was he to ask you that? He came in early all the time and you never bothered him about it.

“None of your business,” you snorted, glancing down at your phone, trying to get back to reading your article. But with Reid in the room, it was hopeless.

“Jeez. Okay. I was just asking a question. You know, when someone is so defensive it actually has a lot to do with their social life. Usually, they aren’t getting enough mental stimulation outside of work and in rare cases, it attributes directly to whether or not they’ve been receiving enough pleasurable intercourse.”

He nodded curtly as he finished, his own gaze dropping to a regular manilla folder, not even taking in your expression of pure shock. He must’ve found your silence startling enough because soon after, he looked up at you, crooking an eyebrow.

“What?” Quickly, his expression shifted to a mix of understanding and his cheeks went red so quickly. “Oh! I wasn’t saying that-that-that you weren’t… that you aren’t… I mean, not that you are… I just mean that….”

“What, you’re saying I’m not getting fucked properly?”

His mouth dropped open just as Rossi and Alvez entered, conversing loudly enough to miss your snarky comment. Clearly, though, they could detect the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Are we interrupting?” Rossi, the bastard, asked coolly, taking a seat as Luke did the same.

“Nope,” you smirked as more of the team entered. “Not at all.”

Although there was a pressing case to focus on, you couldn’t help but glance at Reid a little more often than usual.

“Alvez, Lewis, you two talk to the parents. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the BDSM shop and see what they can tell us about the whip.”

The urge to roll your eyes and groan was almost too great. Being in a car with Reid for too long gave you hives and as you typed the address into your phone, you glared at your phone for displaying the time to get there as a whole half hour. In a car. Alone. With Reid.

Strangely enough, it had been about a week or so since he’d made any snarky comments to you, seemingly preferring to keep his distance. You wondered what being stuck in a car together would be like. Hopefully quiet. Silent, ideally.

You really shouldn’t have raised your expectations.

“So, the whip is actually a pretty common item so if he paid with cash, it’s likely there won’t be much of a trail. If you wanna wait in the car, I understand, I can just run in and get the info.”

Huh?

“Why would I wait in the car?” That might’ve been the first genuine question you’d ever asked him excluding when you’d first met and asked his name. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of sarcasm and rhetoric.

“Y/N, it’s a sex shop,” he said, a slight glance over to you as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel slightly.

“And?”

“Well… I mean, you don’t wanna go in there.”

“Says who? Reid, it’s part of the job. I’m not scared of sex like you are.”

That got him stuttering, huffing and puffing, and trying to backtrack so fast he might as well have thrown the car in reverse. But you had arrived before you knew it, settling into an empty spot right in front of the store.

“I-I’m not s-scared of… of… I’m not scared of that!”

Unbuckling your seatbelt, a surge of confidence rushed through you as you exited the car, quickly quipping, “Oh, I can tell judging by how easy it is for you to talk about. It’s okay, Reid. Not everyone can handle dominating someone. Certainly not someone as submissive as yourself.”

As you entered the shop, you could feel his tension next to you the whole time you questioned the woman at the front desk. But there was something… off about it. It was like he wasn’t nervous being in the shop, he had no issue making eye-contact with the witness, speaking calmly and coolly, and not avoiding looking at the various sex toys scattered about. No, he was nervous about something else. Something you had said?

But it wasn’t like you didn’t tease him ruthlessly and regularly anyway. Had you struck a nerve? What was different?

Maybe he just didn’t like talking about sex stuff with you. It made sense, he hated your guts. Still…. There was something.

Something that didn’t get brought back up again until a week later, when the two of you were sitting at your desks during a lunch break with everyone gathered around, conversing quietly. Then Alvez had to go and stir the pot like the little pot-stirrer he was.

“Well, I’d have killed to see how Reid acts in a sex shop. Hey, Y/L/N, please tell me there were lots of dildos,” he joked, earning a laugh from the majority and a groan from Reid.

“Actually, he was much less freaked out than I expected. I assume it’s because he didn’t know what half the stuff in there was.”

Sparing a glance at Reid, you were startled to find he wasn’t looking away in embarrassment, but staring straight at you, glaring daggers.

The laughter bubbling up inside your throat at the teasing immediately subsided, replaced with a sudden rush of… fear? No, that can’t be right. You weren’t scared of Spencer Reid. The guy was harmless. Right?

“Can I talk to you privately, Y/N?” he hadn’t said it like a question you could say no to, rising from his seat and storming off to the file room.

Resistance was futile, and in this case, unnecessary, because whatever Reid had to say to you in that room, you could easily turn against him. Ricocheting his remarks came so naturally sometimes you didn’t even notice you were doing it.

You entered the filing room, fully expecting to see Reid shuffling papers and mumbling, working up the courage to yell at you.

Which is why you didn’t expect to be shoved up against the door as it slammed shut behind you, Reid pinning his hands on either side of your head, holding your faces inches apart. Your breath left and so did the words you’d been rehearsing on the short walk to the small room. You felt your mouth drop open and your gaze unintentionally fell to his lips. It took you a minute to realize he’d been talking. Desperately trying to play back what he’d said, you felt your earlier anger rise back up in your throat.

“What’s your problem with me? Huh?” he was unrelentingly forcing you to meet his eyes. “Why are you always coming after me for the stuff I say? Jesus, you’d think you’d show me a little compassion sometimes, but nooooo. Little miss princess just gets off so good making the team punching bag feel like a piece of shit.”

At his words, you finally found your voice.

“Me? You’re always the one fucking correcting me and bossing me around! You pick fights with me all the goddamn time!”

“Name one time.”

“Hmm, let me see, the time you told Garcia you needed her to hack my phone for a case! The time you fucking told me I was asking to be dominated. Just last week you assumed I didn’t wanna go into a sex shop because, what, I’m too innocent? Or maybe you just want to think of me that way and you hate that it’s not true. Hey, how about the time you pulled me into the file room and pinned me up against the door like a goddamn butterfly?”

You were getting to him, you could tell. His face had slackened but his gaze was much stronger, scrutinizing all of your features carefully.

“You know what else? You’re the only one on the team that calls me by my first name. And I have no idea why! Is it just to bother me or do you actually just not care about giving me any indicators that you respect me? I’ve been a profiler for ten years now and I still can’t read you for shit! You’re so fucking hot and cold you give me freezer burn! Christ, Reid. Sometimes I can’t tell whether you wanna fight me or fuck me!”

Three seconds. That was the time it took you to register that his lips were suddenly on yours, biting and nipping, tongue fighting to get into your mouth.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!

Okay, listen… Normally, if someone you hated with all your heart pressed you up against a door and started to make out with you with the force of a thousand suns, you’d do what any sane person would do; shove them off of you and kick them in the junk.

But Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

So, when you suddenly found your hands grabbing his face and pulling him in closer to you, opening your mouth enough to let him devour you whole, it wasn’t all that much of a rational decision. In fact, a whole series of irrational decisions happened in quick succession.

He was pressing you against the door so harshly, it felt safe to let your feet leave the ground, legs coiling around his hips and gasping into his mouth as you felt his length brush your inner thigh. Fuck, he was hard. Oh god. The pressure must have caused your mind to really comprehend what in the fuck was happening here.

Spencer Reid was kissing you up against a wall at work. But that wasn’t even the weird part. The weird part was... you actually liked it.

So, pushing down the thoughts of what a terrible idea this was, your hands gripped the lapel of his suit jacket, frantically pushing it off of his shoulders. As it hit the floor, he groaned, seemingly realizing where you wanted things to go.

He pulled back, tearing open the buttons of your blouse, words falling from his beautifully swollen lips.

“You’re such a goddamn tease. All the time. Wearing these tight little tops and expecting me to not rip it off of you?” he tsked, pulling open the top to reveal your bra, stopping in his tracks at the sight.

He was taking too long. Too fucking long.

Your hands reached for his belt, hurriedly sliding the leather from the strap, snapping it off of his pants and pushing them down.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this to happen,” you snarked as he picked you up and plopped you down on the small metal table in the center of the room, brushing aside all the papers atop it. Your back hitting the cool metal made you hiss but you went on, “I bet you brought me in here because you knew if we were alone together for more than five seconds, you’d snap. You wanted to fuck me, Reid.”

You were trying to sound like you still had some wits about you, but the truth was, they’d all flown out the window the moment his lips met yours. Those fucking lips.

He didn’t bother denying your claims, opting to roughly pull down your skirt and underwear, one strong hand tightly holding your bare thigh the whole time. Those fucking hands.

“Maybe,” when he spoke again, his voice had dropped two octaves, a register you’d never heard before that sent a flicker of pure delight through your veins, “you’re projecting, Y/N. I think you’ve wanted me to hold you down and fuck you this whole time. You’ve wanted me to shut that pretty little princess mouth up in any and every way possible so you rattle off teases and insults to make up for the fact that you’re just a little whore who is begging to be fucked.”

You heard your moan echo around the room before you even noticed you’d opened your mouth. Quickly, but not quickly enough, his huge hand snapped over your lips, stopping any further sounds from escaping. His other hand dug into his pants pocket and you could hear the crinkle of tin as he rolled on a condom.

All you heard before the world disappeared was, “Shut the fuck up,” as he slid into you in one perfect thrust, his left hand roughly digging into your hip as he grunted with the effort of holding back. But that wasn’t what you wanted. That wasn’t the point of this. And you told him just that.

“Reid,” you groaned through his hand and he relinquished his hold, “fucking fuck me!”

Apparently, you didn’t need to tell him twice.

He didn’t even bother trying to ease you into it, roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you against him with each sharp thrust. It took all you had to keep from screaming as a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure pushed you closer to the edge. Jesus, you were close to coming already after barely a minute.

It was like you said, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane.

Still, you weren’t quite ready to submit to him completely. There was still quite a bit of fight left in you.

“I bet you’re loving this. Thinking you’re finally in charge of me. I got news for you, Reid,” grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear, relishing in the hiss he emitted at the change in angle. “I’m more than you can handle.”

Saying he went wild would be an understatement. He somehow managed to lift you all the way up off of the table, spin you around, and reenter you sharply within the span of two seconds. This time, you couldn’t stop the pathetic mewl that left your throat at the feeling of him inside of you.

Actually, what probably got you was the horrible, dirty things he was whispering in your ear unrelentingly as he pounded into you, one hand on your hip and the other yanking your hair back roughly.

“You think I don’t know how to handle a spoiled little princess? Tell me, who’s the one moaning and writhing underneath me? Huh? Oh, can you not answer because I’ve got my cock buried in you?” He slipped the hand that was in your hair down to your cheeks, squeezing and forcing them into a pucker. “Answer me.”

You could feel how close you were but his thrusts were so slow and patient now. He wasn’t nearly as close as you were. If you were doing this, you were making him come first. You needed to keep some power. You did decide to relinquish a bit of control to him.

“P-Please, Reid….” you whispered, smiling to yourself as he responded exactly as you’d expected.

“Please, what?”

He was moving so slowly now, barely giving you any relief, slowly pushing in the tip only to pull out hastily, leaving you grinding back on his for more.

“Please… please tell me you don’t actually believe that,” you snarked, pleased with the way he suddenly froze, seemingly not expecting to hear that from you.

Your shock, however, didn’t last long. Because after a very pregnant pause, you heard the rush of air come from behind you. Because you felt a sharp, sudden, stinging pain on your left asscheek. Because Spencer Reid had just fucking spanked you.

“Ahh!” you yelped as the heat flared up your body as he sped up his thrusts, entering you deeper and deeper each time.

“I think someone needs to teach you a lesson about what happens when you mouth off to the wrong person. This,” he added with a particularly sharp thrust, “is your punishment, princess. You actually thought I couldn’t handle dominating a little brat like you? You’re the one begging to be filled up like a little whore.”

“Reid,” you let the name slip, feeling yourself slowly giving in more and more the further he pushed you.

“Say my fucking name, princess.”

“Ah! Spe– fuck! Reid!” you keened, happily letting your body give in to the feeling of being totally and utterly used by him, barely noticing almost calling him his first name.

“Tell me, princess, do you even know how tight your little cunt is bouncing back on my cock? I bet I feel so big inside you. I guess you finally got what you needed: to be fucked properly. You’re lucky that I’m the one to do it. I know just how to handle you.”

You groaned as he snaked a hand around you to circle your clit relentlessly, barely managing enough energy to squeak, “I hate you.”

There was anger behind the words, but not honesty. And Spencer knew. It was clear as he leaned in to whisper in your ear a final time, he also knew exactly how to push you over the edge.

“Prove it.”

And in an instant, your climax hit you, washing over you like a waterfall, feeling your walls clench and tighten around Reid’s cock. Drowning in the pleasure of your orgasm, you didn’t even notice the way he grunted as he spilled himself inside of you.

You definitely didn’t notice the way he planted soft kisses to your shoulder blades as he pulled out, whispering small strings of praise. Or the way he stroked your thigh as he carefully pulled your underwear back up. You definitely didn’t notice that.

You hadn’t quite regained your energy, but you knew you had to stand up. Every muscle in your body, however, begged you to collapse to the floor. Luckily, Spencer caught you, prompting you to look up at him, trying not to show the hope that was so obviously shimmering in your eyes.

Strangely, he seemed to be looking at you in a similar sense. Not exactly hopeful but… worried?

“You okay?”

You nodded weakly, breaking the eye-contact and pulling away from him, scurrying to put your clothes back on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

You knew you sounded curt but you just couldn’t bring yourself to express emotion right now. It was stupid, you knew, but in the heat of the moment, you had felt… connected to him. In a purely animalistic way, surely. In a ‘fuck me so hard you impregnate me’ way.

Pushing the fact that that thought got you a little excited to the back of your mind, you turned back to Reid who had also fully redressed. He was shifting on his feet, avoiding looking at you fully.

“Well, now we know what to do next time we butt heads,” you joked, smiling softly to diffuse the tension.

He laughed but you could tell it was superficial. There was something the two of you weren’t saying and you were both waiting for the other to say first.

“We should probably get back out there, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, coughing and doing a ‘ladies first’ motion towards the door.

“Thanks,” you muttered, opening the door slightly, then glancing back at Reid, seeing him looking at you with the words neither of you would say.

“Hey, Spencer?”

He tried not to let his shock show but he did a horrible job. You couldn’t blame him though, it was the first time you’d ever called him by his first name.

“Y-yeah?”

“I… I don’t hate you.”

It wasn’t much, but he smiled liked it was everything. Maybe, in your own special way, it was.

“I don’t hate you, too.”

Giving him a little nod of your head, there was no way you could suppress the joyous smile that lit up your face as you exited the file room. Your coworkers would surely be suspicious, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Spencer was the only thing on your mind the whole rest of the day and you were sure he’d stay there well into the week.

After all, Spencer Reid drove you fucking insane. Now, you knew, in more ways than one.

TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

(sorry if the tags aren’t working! i’ve been having some trouble)

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @cielo1984 @thupidalthea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid@aloha-ashley-taylor@justchiara-02@spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin@dreamy-reid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedelic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck@awhollandx@baddreamsandbrokenhearts@simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam@gejatume@url-under-construction@krymson182@addie5264 @pinkdiamond1016 @gublergirls @georgia4287 @thineeminnie @untainted-memories @cm-is-kinda-cool @le-vie-en-amour1 @happyiidiot @wechillingcoop @blankets-for-bees @stewie-castle @dolanfivsosxox

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fandom #etherrealoblivion #smut #season twelve reid #reid #spencer

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thaliaxpetrova · 2 years

Text

Welcome student [#13] who happens to be a [PRIVATE COLLEGE STUDENT]. Around campus you have been told you look a lot like [LUCA HOLLESTELLE]. We hear that your name is [THALIA PETROVA] and that you are [21] years old. We hear that you can be [SPONTANEOUS] but also [IMPULSIVE]. Lately you have been saying [PUPPET BY FAOUZIA] relates to you a lot in life, and that [3AM INSPIRATION AND COFFEE STAINS] are your most common muse. We heard you decide to major in [ANIMATION] at North Chancellor and we can’t wait to welcome you.

MUSINGS || CONNECTIONS || PLAYLIST(S)

GENERAL STATS:

NAME: Thalia Petrova AGE: Twenty - One GENDER: Cis Female PRONOUNS: She/Her HEIGHT: 5′7

HEALTH

PSYCHOLOGICAL: ( undiagnosed ) Borderline Personality Disorder PHYSICAL: None SMOKE: Sometimes DRUGS: Sometimes ALCOHOL: Frequent

PERSONALITY:

POSITIVE TRAITS: Spontaneous, resilient, assertive NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impulsive, guarded, stubborn MBTI: ENTP-A ENNEAGRAM: 7w8 TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

FAVORITES:

MUSICAL GENRE(S): Indie pop, pop, alt rock MUSICAL ARTIST(S): Faouzia, Hayley Williams, Lorde, KWAYE, Joji, PVRIS, The Weeknd, Nothing But Thieves, Fall Out Boy, All Time Low, CHVRCHES, The 1975

BIO: ( TW: abandonment, drugs, addiction, abuse )

( Full bio linked here )

sparknotes version:

- grew up in the foster care system, bounced from house to house

- repeatedly being tossed around really messed with her self worth and sense of self in general

- developed lots of defense mechanisms, most of which unhealthy.

- She falls back on self sabotaging quite a bit, essentially ruining anything good for herself before it’s ripped away from her. at least here, it’s “in her control” rather than feeling like her world could be ripped from underneath her at any second

- when she was thirteen, she was placed with the Petrova’s, who actually showed her the compassion and care that she so desperately needed and longed for. she tested them a lot since she felt like it was too good to be true.

- slowly but surely she let them in, but in a two steps forward one step back kind of way. when she was 14, they officially adopted her

- fast forward a bit, and YIKES her birth father found her and reached out to her! as one could imagine, this sparked a lot of overwhelming emotions in Thalia, anger being a very predominant one... but curiosity won, and she agreed to talk with him.

- he said all the right things and gained her trust within a few minutes... but every other time they spoke, he wanted money.

- eventually she literally had nothing left to give him, which was when he suggested taking something from her adoptive parents since they were so well off financially.

- This is when Thalia drew the line, but he just broke in their house and took what any valuable looking thing he could

PRESENT / MISC

- thalia is VERY private, and likely will not speak about her childhood at all. if she had her way, no one would know she was even adopted, and that she just always was able to live in a life of luxory.

- she really doesn’t care who’s a private school student and who isn’t, but she may act like she does just to cover her tracks

- She’ll make acquaintances with just about anyone, but it takes a lot for her to consider you a genuine friend. She definitely has quite a few trust issues

- if you’re friends with her, expect lots of random texts, especially in the middle of the night

- is always up for an adventure, this girl will do anything to keep herself from being trapped in her own head

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

- confidant -- someone thalia actually TRUSTS ( a bizarre concept, I know ) this could develop overtime, or we can plot out how these two became close.

- Tutor/study buddies -- essentially someone to keep thalia on track academically

- Bad influence -- where they just kinda enable each other and feed off of their bad habits

- Good Influence -- opposite of above

- art buddies -- someone to keep her company as they work on projects until 3am

- ex’s -- ex friends or ex romantic partners ! both can make for glorious angst

that’s about all I got for now, but I’m open to just about anything!!

#nchqintro #intro #abandonment tw #drugs tw

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thelastfunctioningbraincell · 3 years

Note

Hi! I read your Heronstairs headcanon, which was fantastic! Since it's Cassie's birthday would you like to write another one where Will comes to meet Alec?

Omygods thank you soo much💙💙 that means a lot to me 😭😭

Alec was coming back from the Clave meeting, Magnus wasn't home yet since he had to go for some other work. Alec saw Jace, who had burried his face into the couch and was fast asleep. No wonder, babysitting two kids would be exhausting for Jace. Uncle Jace and Uncle Simon were taking turns to babysit.

Alec smiled looking at his Parabatai who was hugging a pillow. He headed straight to the kids room, that was his routine, looking meeting the kids before doing anything else.

" Blueberry, Rafe? Dad's back! Hey-" he stopped midway looking at the hazy figure of a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes, who was bending over the kids who were fast asleep. "Who- who are you?" Alec looked at him, he had the same blue eyes dark hair. "Alexander Gideon Lightworm, lightwood I mean. Nice to meet you." The man had a dense English accent. He extended his hand, " I know your ancestors, rather I'm related to your parabatai who well, landed face first into your sofa." He said. " William Herondale, I- I don't know what to say." Alec said with complete disbelief.

"There's no need to. I'm here to see how my sister's descendant is doing, you've got her eyes and her hair too. A lightworm inheriting herondale beauty, who could've believed that till Cecy came into Gabriel's life. Oh, what would've he done without her. Anyways, I might be a bit late. But I'm here to tell you. You aren't anyone's shadow, you're a strong nephillim, an individual person. I appreciate your skills in archery, your accuracy and precision I don't even have words." Will said holding Alec's shoulder.

Alec looked down and smiled. "I really needed these words few years ago. Sir, I'm really glad to meet you. I've heard so much about you..from Magnus, read about you..and I- I can't believe I'm here talking to you." Will frowned, "Don't call me sir, I'm not that old! It makes me feel like a grumpy old man sitting in a chair by the fireplace telling bedtime story to his grandkids. Call me Will "

"Oh, I'm sorry, si- Will. B-but why me? Why did you come to meet me? I mean you could've talked to Jace...or Magnus, why choose me?" Alec asked. " Your subconscious mind still thinks low of yourself. You've been there for everyone and no one appreciated it enough. Let's start with your parabatai. He was always the one to be noticed first. But if it wasn't for you, this reckless impulsive boy would've ran into some deep trouble. You knocked sense into him, stood by his side in all times.

Your sister, I always wondered how she's so different from all the Lightwoods, but then again, she reminds me of Anna Lightwood. She's strong, again you've been there for her when Max..... Max, that child. I must tell you he misses you the most. He wished of growing up with you learning from his big brother. I know, I very well know that you still blame yourself for not being there when everything happened. But this is a message from him, don't blame yourself, it happened for a reason. He's still with you and he's really happy for you.

Then the mundane boy, who became a daylighter, wow that is complex. You didn't really like him in the beginning, but you do care for him. Now he's engaged to your sister. Give them my best wishes.

Then the red haired girl, you didn't approve her either, you see her as a sister now. She's reckless too, but that's her strength. You appreciate and support her. Then your kids, they’re amazing, look his skin matches my eyes!

And then my dear Magnus, he’s been through a lot. He was there for me so many times. St. Magnus’s home for wayward shadowhunters is a concept from my times. I know the pain of loving someone who’s goin to live forever” Will looked down at his hands and smiled. “Tessa, my love and my parabatai, Jem. But don’t ever give up on eachother you two. I’ve never seen Magnus this happy with anyone, you were there for him too.” Will’s gaze shifted towards the crackling sound by the fireplace.

“But what about it? I...I didn’t have any intention-” Alec said. “Yes, you didn’t you did it all selflessly, you did it for your loved ones. You used to think you won’t be able to ever enter the Silent city or be remembered with your comrades due to the Clave’s views. Everyone’s life has a curse, I had mine. But you had the power to strengthen your bonds. Remember, a nephilim who can love his comrades selflessly deserves to be appreciated, and that’s all I came here for.

Alec’s eyes were filled with tears, all his thoughts from past stood in front of him, he had people to love now, people who loved him. “Church’s judgemental face and Bridget’s ballads are forever, and so are your stories Alec. Before I go There’s something I’d like to say,” Will touched Alec’s cheek and said.

“I’m really proud of you, Alexander Lightwood. May the angel bless you, and everyone around you.” A tear rolled down Alec’s cheek as the words echoed in the air and the man in front of him slowly disappeared like silver dust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, ik its kinda long. @anon Thanks for the request, I hope you liked it! *my Apollo-geez for not writing sassy lines for Will, I can’t man, I can’t*

Characters belong to @cassandraclare

*kinda late, but Happy Birthday Cassie!!*

Tagging few ppl who might wanna read.

@queenlilith43 @ghafa-dale @garimamorgenstairsfairdale @crazy-beautiful @nerdyfuntheorist @hardlymatters @shadowhunting-hooligans @herondalebitchh @in-love-with-themoon @noah-herondale-lightwood @the-blackdale @fangirlinindia @fangirl2o20 @justanormaldemon @ravenscar14 @kitandtyarelife @whiskedthought

No pressure ✌️✌️

(do tell if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist)

#shadowhunters #will herondale #Alec lightwood #Jace herondale #tmi #tid #Clary fray #Isabelle lightwood #Magnus Bane #Rafael and Max lightwood bane #Herondale #Lightwood #parabatai #headcanon #i tried #nobody tried #tsc obsession

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maldito-arbol · 3 years

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Let’s talk about zodiacs and TPN Part 1

This is largely inspired by the fact that I talk about the characters’ zodiacs nonstop in the fanfic I’m working on for my tpn witch au, and I’ve been chortling to myself the entire time about how well some of them fit their sign and how some of them just... don’t. I’m going to simply infodump about each character, their sign, element, and some attributes they fit to a t while others don’t make sense. I will also touch on compatibility for all you shippers out there, don’t worryyy. Now this isn’t at all a critique or review of the characters themselves— I know astrology is not the first thing authors consider when choosing character birthdays, if they even do at all, this is simply me rambling about my hyperfixation and projecting onto fictional characters like we all do.

A couple last notes— one character in particular (cough cough Ray) has a different “canon” birthdate from “actual” so I’ll discuss both. Also, while I will be doing surface level research to make sure I’m not talking out of my ass, im not a professional astrologist, I’m simply a witch with an enthusiasm for zodiacs. Well then, without further ado, let’s talk about the kiddos.

Emma

Birthdate: August 22nd

Sign: Leo

Element: Fire

An overview: The funniest thing to me about Emma is that she’s literally the epitome of a Leo. Fire signs are generally very outgoing and energetic—they talk a lot and tend to be the leaders of the packs. Leos in particular are incredibly admirable and truly know their way around a conversation. If I ever wanted to get stuck in an elevator for 48 hours with no wifi or connection to the outside world and only one random stranger to talk to for the entire duration, I would pick a Leo in a heartbeat. Emma is very much the leader-type, she’s someone everyone pauses and listens to when she calls for their attention, and she always prefers to talk her way out of conflict rather than fight—but not in an underhanded manipulative way, no, Leos are very genuine with their feelings and will be upfront about their reasons for their actions.

Take this scene between Emma and Leuvis for example— this to me is about the closest to perfect of a summary of what Leos are like, and how Emma fits her sign beautifully.

She doesn’t want to fight, but she will if she has to—for the good of her friends and the good of humanity. She can stick to her ideals and yet extend a hand to the enemy anyway. This is what makes Leos such a force to be reckoned with in leadership roles.

Compatibility and ships: I know I know, this is the part you’re most excited about. I’m going to attempt to refrain from sharing my opinion on each ship itself, I will simply point out which have the highest compatibility levels. First of all, essentially all signs are most compatible with 1. Other signs of the same element and 2. Their compliment sign, their elemental opposite.

Since Emma is a fire sign, she’s generally compatible with other fire signs (Sagittarius, Aries, and of course Leo) as well as Air signs (Aquarius, Gemini, and Libra). So speaking broadly, she’s compatible of course with Norman as an Aries, as well as Ray IF he truly is an Aquarius. But if we narrow it down a little bit, I should mention that fire signs being fire signs can often clash with each other because both their energies are so high (personal experience lmao), and therefore their elemental opposite, air, are generally the way to go. Usually you’ll find on astrological charts and sites that Leos are most compatible with Geminis and Aquariuses, so Ray again if he is an Aquarius, and then we bring Violet into the picture because she’s a Gemini. (Uh, speaking as a Gemini, Leos are my favorite people to date, and I always seem to crush on them as well. I have a problem. A Leo problem.) I’m so sorry Gilemma shippers but fire and earth signs are like the worst combo, I don’t know how this happened because I love Gilemma with all my heart. The stars simply did not align for us this time

Norman

Birthdate: March 21st

Sign: Aries

Element: Fire

Overview: okay listen. I didn’t believe Norman was an Aries at first because he’s not as high energy as most fire signs, but then the more I thought about it, the more it just makes sense. The most key trait to an Aries is loyalty. They are so incredibly loyal and caring to the people they love that they often neglect themselves in the process. They can be very quick to anger if someone hurts or insults their friend, and are unafraid to start a fight or commit morally gray or even black actions in service of their loved ones. Point is you don’t mess with an Aries’ family or friends. You will get burned.

All the loyalty applies to Norman so incredibly well—the way that his plans and actions revolve entirely around Emma and Ray, and the way that he sacrifices himself for their escape even though he’s terrified of dying. But even more so this loyalty strikes you in the face when he returns as William Minerva, willing and committed to full on genocide all to keep his friends alive and safe. As I’ve said Aries are quick to anger, which seemingly isn’t very present in cool-headed, thoughtful Norman, but then you remember this:

Look at his expression. Even if he doesn’t easily lose his cool, when he does it’s terrifying. So essentially Norman is a much more subtle Aries— he’s not in your face aggressive or full of energy, but he has all the hidden signs. So yeah, I honestly can’t think of any other sign that describes him better. Norman is an Aries.

Compatibility and ships: being a fire sign and all, Norman’s compatibility is actually very similar to Emma’s. He’s compatible with other Fire signs (Sagittarius, Leo, and Aries) as well as Air signs (Libra, Aquarius, and Gemini). Speaking broadly that makes him compatible with Emma and Ray again, but narrowing it down Aries are much better in general with Libras and Leos so congrats Noremma shippers you won.

Ray

“Canon” Birthdate: January 15th

“Actual” Birthdate: February 5th

“Canon” sign: Capricorn

“Actual” sign: Aquarius

“Canon” Element: Earth

“Actual” Element: Air

Overview: alright Ray is a bit of a mixed bag to unpack. Because it’s been stated that Ray’s January 15th birthday is not his actual birthday outside of the source material, then it’s reasonable for me to count both birthdays because people have different ideas of what’s canon and what’s not. Interestingly enough though, Ray does indeed fit well enough into both the Capricorn and Aquarius signs, however I personally believe one shows through him better than the other.

We’ve been talking about fire signs for Emma and Norman so it’s finally time to dive into two other elements! We’ll start with Capricorn then, the Earth sign. The most important thing to remember is that the Earth signs are the most grounded and practical. If you want someone who can give you logical and rational advice, your best bet would be the Earth signs (Air signs are also good at this but this ain’t about them. Although you will notice some overlap in traits between these two, particularly in Capricorns and Aquariuses).

We can already see the ‘practical’ side show through in Ray by the way he hyperfocuses on taking Norman and Emma to escape but insists on leaving the other kids behind. This isn’t to say he doesn’t feel for them, on the contrary, Earth signs are indeed very in tune with their emotions and empathy, but Capricorns really know how to set that part of them aside in favor of the calm and certain route. They like tangible solutions, things they can grasp with the least amount of risk, and they’re very resistant to changes—like giant rocks. This is also noticeable in how Ray gets so very flustered by Norman and Emma’s impulsivity. He clashes with both of them because Earth signs prefer to take things slow while Fire signs just like to make a leap and hope for the best.

Note how Emma says “not that I mind...” meanwhile Ray is out here going “I MIND!!” Which we learn is because of his identity as the spy. He’s got his own plan and a tangible solution to shoot for, and Norman and his impulsivity and Emma going along with it is messing everything up. Thus, he forcibly retakes control of the situation via making a deal with Norman after the traitor is revealed. Very Capricorn stuff.

And if you want an image that just completely sums up the Capricorn in Ray, here you go:

On the OTHER hand, if we’re to go off Ray’s “actual” birthdate, which was so lovingly calculated by Tempo, then we get Aquarius Ray, the Air sign. The most important things to note about the air signs is that they’re the thinkers—the farthest from impulsive, they’re the least in tune with their emotions, and they are oh so horribly indecisive. Where Earth signs will be able to give advice that adheres to both logic and emotion, Air signs stick purely to logic. Where Earth signs are able to make calm and rational decisions, Air signs will agonize over options and often find themselves lost, searching perpetually for a solution with no cracks in it. Hello. I’m an Air sign. :’))

I’m gonna come right out and say it. I hate Aquarius men. Aquarius women and enby folks, they’re great. But Aquarius men? I may, as a Gemini, get along with them in surface level casual conversation, but behind every Aquarius man’s back is a Mal waiting to strangle him the moment I am given the opportunity. I’m so sorry Ray my son but you are not an Aquarius okay. Alright. Well, let’s just talk about the parts of him that do fit Aquarius.

So from the very start Ray is obviously a thinker, someone who considers his options very carefully before he makes a decision, and someone who hates making choices based solely on emotion. In fact, he hates expressing emotions at all. Aquariuses are very good at repressing or hiding their emotions behind other emotions (most air signs are). The most common way to do this is to put up a wall of either numbness or full-on rage. We can see both in Ray.

Instead of showing vulnerability in a healthy way, he would rather do that. Ok cool Ray.

Aquariuses can also be very quiet people, and Ray’s pretty dang quiet for most of the series too. They’re the intellectuals you know are intellectuals even though they aren’t up in your face about it. Their reserved nature makes them 10x scarier when they’re genuinely angry, because boy can an Aquarius rage.

The thing about Aquarius Ray for me here is that while Ray does indeed have Aquarius energy, it’s not the Core of Ray. To me he’s so much more of an Earth sign, so therefore I diagnose Ray with Capricorn.

Compatibility and ships: ok this is a mixed bag again. Now if you got Aquarius Ray then of course he’s compatible with other Air signs (Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius) and Fire signs (Leo, Aries, and Sagittarius), which would make him compatible with Norman and Emma for sure, as well as probably Ayshe for you Rayshe shippers because my personal HC is Aquarius Ayshe.

If you’ve got Capricorn Ray, then Capricorns are compatible with other earth signs (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) and their compliment water signs (Cancer, Pisces, and Scorpio), though they’re best with Cancers and Tauruses. So yes, Anna is a Taurus, which makes Rayanna a compatible pair. But guess who’s a Cancer. Don. ALL MY RAYDON SHIPPERS GET OUT HERE YOU COWARDS IM CALLING YOUR NAME. YOU WIN THE SHIP GAME.

Gilda

Birthdate: May 13th

Sign: Taurus

Element: Earth

Overview: So again with the practical and grounded Earth signs. Tauruses now, are the most stubborn of them, which can be a little irritating at times, but it’s also a great asset when you consider how reliable they truly are. They’re bulls, which makes them solid and difficult to move, and you can always fall back on them when you’ve leapt too far ahead. Gilda is of course the epitome of reliable, and her stubbornness does show through at times—like when she’s the one person against Emma going out into danger all the time, constantly trying to talk her down into a more practical and certain solution. She’s also the first to attempt to bring Emma to see Ray’s side of the escape plan, which is very earth sign of both of them good job guys.

Compatibility and ships: I know I know I’m still upset Gilemma isn’t compatible astrologically but we can talk about other Gilda ships! Tauruses are most compatible with other earth signs (Capricorn, Virgo, and Taurus) and water signs (Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces) which makes her compatible with our other lovely Taurus, Anna! Gilanna shippers unite. But they’re best with Cancers and Scorpios, which means Gildon is is at highest compatibility.

Don

Birthdate: July 4th

Sign: Cancer

Element: Water

Overview: HEY YALL ITS TIME TO TALK ABOUT MY LEAST FAVORITE SIGNS: W A T E R. (I’m sorry my water friends, I’m sure you’re lovely, but as an air sign I am always extremely suspicious of water signs at first meeting because our compatibility is so low it might as well not exist) So the water signs are at the absolute highest emotional level. This can make them extraordinarily kind and nurturing, but it can also make them absolutely unreasonable and destructive. None is this more present than in Cancers, one of the most sensitive signs, but also one of the most empathetic. We can tell very clearly in Don that he wears his emotions on his sleeve—he’s unafraid to cry or show his anger, but he also takes very good care of his younger siblings and shows such an intense concern for them that it can become frightening.

He’s such a good boy 🥺

Compatibility and ships: okay so same drill, Cancers are generally compatible with other Water signs (Scorpio, Pisces, and Cancer) as well as Earth signs (Taurus, Capricorn, and Virgo) though their highest compatibility is with Tauruses and Capricorns. So again. GILDON AND RAYDON SHIPPERS R I S E.

God I’m so sorry if I cause a ship war. I rambled for too long and I’m very tired, so you only get these five characters for now. BUT! That’s why it’s a part 1. If you want more please feel free to harass me in my ask inbox about the characters you want me to overanalyze the signs of. Gemini out!

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brattyfics · 3 years

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Cape Disappointment | Part One

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Black!OC [Chantel Williams]

Summary: Miguel doesn’t rescue a damsel in distress because Chantel Williams is not a damsel in distress.

Warnings: None yet.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things. Quirky, witty, sarcastic. Condescending, impulsive, sometimes even chaotic. She could be all those things and more, but she refused to be anyone’s victim.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m not a damsel in distress…” She chanted over and over in a low tone.

On the side of a low traffic road, snow raining down on her head, Chantel willed the words to be true. Unfortunately, she remembered very little of what her Papa taught her about cars, eyeing the confusing parts under the hood with frustration.

Papa was a school teacher but he worked as a shade tree mechanic on the weekends to be able to afford dance classes for little Chantel. Teaching was his passion through and through. He would talk her ear off in the car on the way to recitals or while she did homework on the bench in his workshop. Being a bratty kid, she learned to tune him out when the topic didn’t interest her and not for the first time she regretted not soaking up more of Papa’s wisdom before he passed.

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road with no solution in mind. Empty handed and no closer to fixing the car, she shuffled through the snow. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car despite the thick North Face coat she wore with a matching hat and pair of gloves. She was sure she resembled a wet dog as she shook the snow off, not wanting the ice to melt into water droplets that would surely sting.

Just a week earlier, she’d splurged on the fanciest new smart phone after losing the older model at a dinner party. Even with all its promised features, it was useless. No signal and no nearby WiFi networks to connect to meant she couldn’t call her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend for help even if she wanted to. She couldn’t even call a tow truck!

Pride.

Another one of Chantel’s many traits. She liked to think of it as a positive thing. It kept her from being desperate, saved her from being dependent on others for her happiness. No one else seemed to agree her pride was a good thing.

Among the naysayers was her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend, Adam. Pride was what had led her to take off from the Yurt they shared on their week-long winter break getaway to race back to her industrial loft in the heart of Seattle despite the weather advisory. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she realized her pride didn’t always serve her well.

If not for her bruised ego, it would have been funny that her car had chosen to break down a few miles north of Cape Disappointment State Park. It was where she had been staying with Adam. The yurt was too far away to walk back to in the snow but still close enough that it only made sense to stay there for the night once the car issues were resolved. She wasn’t looking forward to ending the night with him.

Remembering Papa’s belief in God showing up when most needed, Chantel sent up a quick prayer. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for someone else to come down the otherwise deserted road. Winters in Washington were fairly mild so she wouldn’t lose her extremities to hypothermia or anything crazy like that, but she’d certainly suffer by way of the shivers.

Any sane person was cuddled up next to the fireplace in their cabin with a bowl of chili, or participating in heat-inducing sexual activities in their yurt to keep warm, not on the road driving. It was only natural for her thoughts to snowball into all the types of un-same people she could run into.

Indigenous women from Washington and Canada went missing far too often on roads just like the one she had so conveniently broken down on. Chantel had a bad habit of researching everything there was to know about topics when they peaked her interest and she knew too much about human trafficking in the area to not feel a considerable amount of fear.

“That would be my luck.” She muttered meanly to herself, resolving that whatever happened would be her own fault.

It wasn’t like a whole lot of people would come looking for her anyway. She had a large group of friends in Seattle, but she kind of had a reputation for taking off without saying much. She hadn’t even told anyone about the weekend excursion to Cape Disappointment! The family she had left she wasn’t close to, and by the time Adam realized she hadn’t made it back home it would be too late.

Yellow headlights bathed the narrow road, the light blinding her the closer it got. Her hazard lights blinked red, signaling that she was broken down, but Chantel second guessed whether she wanted the help.

“I’m going to be a sex trafficking victim all in the name of independence. Way to go, idiot.”

Her fingers fumbled around in the gigantic backpack she’d been using as a purse for the weekend, hastily pulling at the zippers until she found what she was looking for. A purple taser she purchased on Amazon for a whopping ten dollars. She doubted it would stop anyone in their tracks, but it was better than nothing.

It turned out the man who knocked on her window wasn’t an axe wielding serial murdering rapist, or at least he didn’t appear to be. She tucked the small device into her side as the ridiculously handsome middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard smiled at her through the foggy glass.

He looked harmless enough, sporting a pair of smart designer glasses and what Chantel knew to be a really expensive cashmere turtleneck sweater underneath an equally expensive Canada Goose coat. She wasn’t shy about looking him up and down as she assessed the risk. What if the male model was a decoy?

His neatly manicured eyebrows twisted down in confusion and she thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen.

She rolled down the window with a nervous smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

She hated how breathy the words came out but he was truly stunning.

Tall, fit, well-dressed.

“Are you alright? It looks like you’re having some trouble.”

A gentleman.

“What would make you think that?” Chantel spoke before she thought it through, but the stranger didn’t seem to take offense if the amused smirk on his face could be trusted. “I’m kidding. Yeah, no. I’m not alright. The car was making weird noises so I pulled over and now it won’t turn back on. I looked under the hood but I have no idea what’s wrong.”

He nodded attentively while she spoke, watching her lips with interest. She noticed him staring and licked them.

“I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be.” His bronze skin reddened with the admission and she wondered if he was blushing or if the cold was getting to him. “I don’t know anything about cars but I can give you a ride wherever you want.”

She’d like a ride alright. In his cushiony truck that may as well have been a royal carriage considering the circumstances. Or on his handsome bearded face that she couldn’t stop staring at.

Chantel wondered if he could tell what she was thinking.

Movement caught her eye and she noticed an identical black SUV pulling off the road to park behind the one Prince Charming departed from. Her hand squeezed around the taser instinctively.

Was the sexy stranger bait to catch naive, unsuspecting girls?

“...but I’m sure we’d both rather leave it to the professionals.” He gestured back towards the dark truck and paused, noticing they weren’t alone. Her breath caught in her chest when four bulking men slammed their doors shut and started walking in their direction.

“I apologize. That’s my security team. I left without telling them.”

Hmm. A kindred spirit.

Who was he to have a security team? Was he telling the truth? Or just stalling?

She wanted to believe him. To trust that it was in human nature to help one another without some ulterior, sinister motive.

Did she even have a choice? How long would she have to wait on the next passerby? There was no guarantee they would be any better than the (so far) kind stranger and his friends.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things, but she was not naïve. With surprising coordination, she swung the door open, knocking the man back several steps. Her boots crunched as she landed in the snow.

“Back up or I’m going to tase you!” She warned, putting space between herself and the stranger while keeping an eye on the approaching men.

The corners of his mouth turned up as he fought back a smile.

Chantel scoffed. He wasn’t taking her seriously.

“I’m not fucking around!” She insisted, charging up the small device. The buzz felt more powerful than she remembered. The man seemed to think so too, changing his approach. He spoke in a soft tone. “Can we slow down?”

“Don’t patronize me. Just back up like I said. No, this way!” She ordered until he stood across from her with his back to his men.

Behind him, they speed up their approach but they could only move so fast in the snow. Following her gaze, the strange man looked over his shoulder and gestured for the men to stall at the front of his truck several feet away. One of them shouted at her to put the taser away from his position. He sported two braids and a cut in his brow. Chantel shouted back at him to ‘shut the fuck up’

Mr. GQ gave another signal and like he was the conductor of an orchestra, all noise ceased. Well, all external noise at least. Chantel swore she could hear the sound of her heart ringing in her ears.

“Hey!” He demanded her full attention. His hands were up in a defensive position. “What are you looking for here?”

It was a great question but she had no answer for him.

Trouble maker. Fire starter. Full-time agitator.

Chantel was that way even as a child, responding to normal adolescent teasing with violence. Sharp bites in the classroom or royal rumble style fights on the playground were her specialty in grade school. She made anyone stupid enough to provoke her regret it whether big or small, male or female. That wasn’t to say she was organized or calculating in her plans. She acted and dealt with things as they came.

She had no idea what the endgame was when she pulled the taser, but she had to stick with it. The crowd of onlookers made her feel more justified in her rash decision.

“I don’t think you really want to hurt me.”

“Now, what would make you think that?” Chantel asked incredulously. He didn’t know her from Eve.

She was even more steadfast in pointing the taser in his direction but he didn’t seem phased.

“When you want to hurt somebody, you don’t wait around or warn them. You just do it.”

“Are you suggesting I should’ve tased you?”

He shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

“That certainly would have been more effective.”

Was he serious?

“I mean I still can. If you keep talking I just might.”

He had the gall to laugh in her face.

Hysterically.

And it wasn’t fleeting or sarcastic. It was genuine laughter from deep down in his gut. She hated how beautiful he was, even in the middle of showing blatant disrespect for her ability to harm him.

“Seriously?” She griped, fighting against the way her face muscles twitched.

Giggle box.

When somebody at church mispronounced a word during the announcements or when her aunt murdered a hit song, she giggled uncontrollably. Papa chastised her for it, but it couldn’t be helped. When the urge struck and she got that itch in her throat, she had to laugh.

So naturally, like two birds of a maniac feather they shared a laugh in four (and counting) inches of snow.

***

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes @taylortheeshowpony

#mayans mc #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel galindo x black!oc #miguel galindo x reader

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caranfindel · 3 years

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Episode recap/review: Walker 1.14

I didn't expect to recap 1.14 and yet here I am, still avoiding my unfinished Summergen fic. I'm actually writing this in real time, as I watch the episode. So for once I'm not pretending I don't know what happens. I literally don't know.

We begin with Cordell and Grandpa clearing up the crime scene. How much do I love Cordell saying "Daddy?" A lot. And not in that way, you perverts. It just really brings out the Texan.

Liam is in bed, recuperating. He gets a call (note that he calls himself William professionally, which is news to me, and I like it for whatever reason) from someone asking for a comment, which he starts to angrily refuse before Gramma Walker grabs his phone and hangs up. Gramma Walker going all Mama Bear for Liam is also interesting, and unexpected. But Liam says "I can take care of myself" and she says "No, you can't. None of you boys can." And then looks sadly out the window, where Cordell and Grandpa are taking down the crime scene tape. I just have to think "none" and not "both" means she's thinking of poor dead Hoyt, who she obviously loved like a son, if not more so. (More evidence for the Hoyt is her lovechild file? Maybe.)

Geri shows up, wearing an unnecessary cowboy hat and Hoyt's old jacket. She's bearing Hoyt's last will and testament, written on a bar coaster! Oh, my heart. And in case you can't read it:

If I get shivved in the shower or some old horse kicks me upside the head. For real Liam stamp it and everything - I leave everything to Geri/"Geraldine Broussard"/angle [sic] face sweet lips etc. So that plot I bought over in Tanglewood is for her and whatever I got in my pockets or elsewhere. See ya in the next life.

Angle face!

I'm not sure this would stand up in court, since he didn't even sign his last name, although it is witnessed by William Walker. Anyway, it's a moot point, because the land Hoyt intended to give Geraldine "Angle Face" Broussard is transferring to new owners, effective tomorrow. Which makes no sense. The deal fell apart because he died, and yet it's so soon after his death that the police tape is still up. New owners wouldn't be in the picture that quickly. Reverting to previous owners, because it was owner-financed? Sure. But not new owners. (Whatever, Caranfindel. Move it along.) She asks Cordell to go with her to gather his personal belongings. And to bring the kids. Hmmm, let's see how Stella can mess this up. (Tanglewood is 71 miles from Austin. Of course I looked it up.)

But first, Cordell has to sign paperwork to begin his leave of absence. So he didn't actually intend to quit. I mean, we all knew he'd be back, but I kind of thought he was, at the time, intending to quit for good. Does Connie the HR person have a big old crush on him? There is hand touching and deep, serious gazing.

Touch him, Connie. Touch him for those of us who cannot.

Micki is sitting right outside the conference room where he signs his papers but still acts surprised that he's in the building. Did she not smell the rosemary mint shampoo as he walked by? He thanks her for the flowers and apologizes for not calling her back. And then cancels their lunch plans so he can go off with Geri and the kids.

Someone said this on Tumblr, and I think it bears repeating here. It's interesting comparing Cordell's grief, over his wife and now his best friend, to Sam's grief. Cordell is clearly deeply affected, and is also clearly moving on. Sam is just unhinged.

Elsewhere. The gang stops for lunch and reminisces about Hoyt dressed as Santa, wearing assless chaps. Well. That's memorable. (Also, I know people who did the whole leaving horse manure and pretending it's reindeer poop thing. Some people are just a lot more into Santa than I was.) Trevor (Travis? Whatever) called Stella. She's apparently avoiding him. Probably a good call, sis. Maybe the only one you've made in 14 episodes. (To be fair, I didn't watch the first four.)

Micki shares tacos with her boyfriend, whose name I can never remember, having been stood up by Cordell. She tells him Cordell seemed "off," which is great now, Micki. Why didn't you pay more attention to that feeling last week? The BF thinks Micki herself might be off, because she misses her partner. And she calls him family. Captain What's His Face comes to talk to Trey (that's his name, dammit) and asks if he knows a guy who goes to the same physical therapist's office. Friends, when I've done PT, I don't even know people who go to my therapist, let alone just go to someone in the same office. But maybe folks in Austin are just friendlier than they are round these parts. Oh, wait. The guy is missing, and was last seen in a heated discussion with Trey? What's up with that, Trey?

Tanglewood. Cordell asks the nice lady (realtor? owner?) about Hoyt's "personal affects," and she says "they are probably out grazing." Because Hoyt's personal effects are four horses and a llama. Which Geri owns now. "Where am I going to board four horses and a llama?" she asks. Cordell is oddly befuddled (and adorably, cause y'all know how I feel about befuddled Jared), as if he didn't live on a ranch. With horses. The family business, remember? The kids are entranced. I would be too. It's a damn cute llama. One of the mares actually nursed the llama, so they're family. (Watch out for falling anvils.)

Micki's house. Trey says the "heated discussion" was the missing guy showing him a judo move. Captain asks Trey to ride along and help him investigate, and poor partnerless Micki asks if she can come with.

Tanglewood. Apparently Hoyt's personal affects also included gear for the four horses, because everyone is saddled up. Geri doesn't seem like an experienced rider - she keeps her hand on the pommel of the saddle, which I always heard was a rube move. (At least she's not clutching the saddle horn. No shade. It's hard not to. It's a perfect handle and it's just right there.) Cordell, of course, rides perfectly, as he does everything perfectly.

Everything except his job. And raising his kids. But do I care about those things? Not so much.

Geri thinks the llama looks unwell. What is she, a llama expert? A veterinarian? And what are they doing on this trail ride anyway - taking the herd back to the Walker ranch? It's 71 miles away! It's an hour and a half driving! How will they get the truck? Why didn't Cordell just say "let's go back to the ranch and get Daddy's cattle trailer?" WHY.

(No one cares. No one but you thinks about these things.)

Stella is on her phone, but it turns out she's (allegedly) re-reading Hoyt's last text, not chatting with friends. And then she says she was "responsible for everything." Oh, wait. We're going there? Stella is finally going to face the music? Cordell says it's not her fault, but they're interrupted by the llama, who apparently is in distress. Cordell wants to leave him at a random homestead. Permanently? Like, "excuse me, ma'am, but can you take this llama?" Or just while they get the horses home? I dunno.

August doesn't like this, because the llama and the horses are family. Geri distracts him by claiming Hoyt wanted him to have the jacket she's wearing, although I find this rather dubious, because why did she wait so long to mention it? Why is she wearing it herself? It's a lucky jacket he won from a tarot card reader and card hustler named The Mystifying Mehar, who was "infamous for getting out of trouble because of that jacket." Cordell then asks Geri to go off with the kids while he hangs back and tries to ditch the llama. Oh no, Cordell, don't do that. He's family!

Back at the ranch, Grandpa chases off some more journalists. He also ignores Gramma's concern about his cancer.

Trail ride. We skipped the whole bit where Cordell found someone willing to take in a goddamn llama, caught up with his kids, and told them what he did. They're mad that he wouldn't even try, and then Stella impulsively rides off, almost falling into a revine.

Team Sassyboots 2.0 questions the missing guy's wife. Turns out he left a note. Doesn't sound like he's as missing as they thought. He said he would "fix everything," i.e., their upcoming foreclosure. They check his workshop and find evidence that he was a military contractor, and apparently this means he should have no money problems whatsoever, because they don't understand how money works. His gun safe is empty, so they figure he's on some kind of "black ops" job. And if it's going to be complete by Monday, I assume it's something local, and not a military operation.

Walker Ranch. Someone who is Liam's "political opponent" comes to take care of him? And he's bringing barbeque? Is it poisoned? Gramma says Liam can't have barbecue because he's on bedrest, as if one had anything to do with the other. And... Grandpa wants to go mushroom hunting with her? Is that what the kids call it these days?

Trail ride. Cordell found someone to keep the horses. Temporarily? I'm still confused. Stella and Geri talk about Hoyt, and Stella asks about her forgiving him. Thinking about some forgiveness toward your own bad boy, Stella? She says "the two of you were always kind of like the dream to me," which is odd considering they were off-and-on, while her parents were very much on, and definitely seem more like couple goals. But okay. Stella confesses again that she is responsible, and Geri says "you let love in, maybe; that's your worse crime." I wonder if Stella blames herself for the fake truck crash that started the whole domino effect, or if she even realizes that's what happened. Obviously Geri wouldn't. Hmmm, I wonder what August thinks about all this?

Walker Ranch. Whoever this political opponent is, he must be a family friend, because he gave a toast at Cordell and Emily's rehearsal dinner. "Hey, when did your brother have such long hair," he asks, looking at a picture of the happy couple. Liam is growing facial hair again. I like it. Opponent suggests the spicy barbecue will put hair on Liam's chest and Liam tosses it aside and says "no, dammit, after I spent all that time waxing?" And Liam might drop out of whatever race he's in. I don't really care about that part. Let's talk more about Liam's chest.

I love that they can use actual Padalecki family photos as Cordell and Emily photos. No bad Photoshop needed!

Team Sassyboots 2.0. I don't really care about this missing guy either. Skipping it. You know, I understand this is meant to be an ensemble show, and Jared Padalecki and his stupid pretty face and long legs are not going to be in every scene. But Micki working a case with her boss and her boyfriend just bothers me and I don't want to be a part of it.

Trail ride. They're bedding down in the barn for the night? What the fuck? Where are they? Why didn't they just drive home? I'm so confused! Cordell and Geri talk about Hoyt some more. Cordell makes an awkward comment about "us together" and then amends it to mean all of us together, as in you and me and the kids camping right now, not, like, you and me together together, and then does a little eyebrow thing like whoo, good job, talked your way out of that one. NO, CORDELL, YOU ARE NOT AS SMOOTH AS YOU THINK YOU ARE. Anyway. There's a lot of guilt about poor dead Hoyt. Cordell tells Geri her name is still on the Sidestep lease (lease? I thought they owned it?), as if being part owner of a bar is always going to be a good thing, with no liability at all. And they don't kiss, for which I am grateful. The horses are really acting up. I hope nothing's happening.

Cordell checks on the horses and apologizes to the mare for leaving the llama behind. He realizes he made the wrong choice. "You know what," he says. "Let's go fix this."

I adore him.

Walker Ranch. Grandpa and Gramma have been mushroom hunting and are now getting silly. Um, what kind of mushrooms did you two find? And then Grandpa says "tonight's about Hoyt," which I do not understand. "I saw the joy he gave you," Grandpa says. Yes, Grandpa, and do you not find that even a little bit fishy? And then he decides to build something.

Trail ride. Cordell went and retrieved his llama! He is precious. I love him so much. He has some pratfalls in the same ravine that almost caught Stella, and then his family shows up and rescues him. (Can I point out that his "a-ha-ha" laugh is the same one we heard when he opened his gift from Dean in "A Very Supernatural Christmas" and I'm not sure it appeared in any other episode?) August offers the Lucky Jacket to use as a llama harness to haul the little guy out of the ravine. Oh, and it turns out the llama is about to give birth.

And, while I'm skipping Team Sassyboots 2.0, it's hard to ignore that Micki is now in a UFC fight. That might have been an interesting story after all. Y'all can fill me in.

Walker Ranch. They're building a little stable. Because this big horse ranch doesn't have enough stables. Liam, who was bedridden to the point of not being able to eat barbeque yesterday, is now helping build. He gets a text from his former fiance, who wants to talk. And Grandpa has decided to treat his cancer. Happy endings all around!

Micki's house. She says she was passive-aggressive with Walker because she's afraid of losing him. I get it, sweetie. He's someone you don't want to lose.

Trail ride. August is carrying the newborn llama, wrapped in the Lucky Jacket. Geri wants to cut out before they get to the ranch. She's going to ride the bus home? Seriously? Isn't her car at the Walker Ranch? She and Cordell talk abou their unfinished business. Yeah, like the fact she was probably involved in your wife's murder? That unfinished business, Geraldine? Grandpa meets them before they get to the ranch and informs them he has a strict no-llama policy on the ranch. But luckily, he just built an alpaca stable. They’re alpacas, not llamas. So, Geri called him, but how did he know they were alpacas? Did she send pictures? I am so confused. Anyway. The new family goes into their new home. They name the baby alpaca Hoyt, of course.

Little Hoyt, guys, he's the sweetest thing.

Breakfast. Political Opponent gives Liam a contribution. Oh, I get it. They're running for the same office, and he thinks Liam will draw votes away from his other opponent. Shrewd. Stella calls Trevor and says she might need to leave the past behind. And you are the past, Trevor. Cordell sees a truck pull up and runs out to meet Micki. She apologizes for holding a grudge over him leaving. She tries to shake hands and he hugs her instead. She thinks they can just be friends now instead of partners, and he says they're not friends, they're family. And then she oohs and aahs over the alpacas, which she recognizes immediately as alpacas and not llamas, and also points out that little Hoyt is actually a girl. Oops. Awkward. Cordell is surprised she can just tell. "Most people can." Yeah, you are the worst rancher's son ever. Then Cordell sees the fence is carved with a memorial to Hoyt. Aw.

He is also the sweetest thing.

So. Less drama than last week. More warmth. A ridiculous B story that was as annoying as giving Cas his own plot. Will I still watch next week? Yeah, probably. I have questions. How did Grandpa know they were alpacas? Where is the baby daddy? Can Cordell and his rancher father really not tell the difference between a male and female alpaca? Why is Geri riding the bus home, when her car is at the Walker's? Why is she avoiding the Walker Ranch? Will August ever get his own plot again?

It's just a shame that this episode didn't have any shout-outs to Supernatural, like the last one did...

#walker #recap/review #tv recap #1.14 #spoilers

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theculturedmarxist · 3 years

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Good morning it’s Wednesday!

And what a fine day to discuss an unfashionable leftist view of mine. The discussion “racial wealth gap” is a somewhat perverse way to think about the real issue: A relatively small minority of the American population controls a huge share of the wealth, and that small minority is disproportionately white.

You could, in principle, try to ameliorate the resulting racial wealth gap by making the wealthy elite more racially diverse — a strategy that would do nothing to help the vast majority of non-white people. Alternatively, you could try to narrow the gap between rich and non-rich people, which would help the majority of people of all races. The latter approach is better on both substance and politics. So much better that to an extent it raises the question of what’s the point of talking about a “racial wealth gap” as opposed to simply a gap between the wealthy and the non-wealthy?

The wealth gap is about the wealthy

For his master’s thesis, Kevin Carney took a detailed look at the evolution of the black/white wealth gap in the United States and among other things came away with this finding — if you lop off the richest quarter of white people, then suddenly Black and white wealth dynamics over time look very similar.

The infamous destruction of African-American wealth during the subprime mortgage crash, for example, also happened for the majority of white households. The reason the racial wealth gap grew during this period is that rich white people own a lot of shares of stock while everyone else’s wealth is in their homes (if it exists at all).

Another way of looking at this is that while most white people are not members of the economic elite, the economic elite is a very white group of people.

With some help from Matt Bruenig of the People’s Policy Project, I looked at the racial composition of the wealthy elite according to the Fed’s Survey of Consumer Finances:

If you look at the top 10 percent of Americans by wealth, only 2.2 percent of those Americans are Black.

The top 5 percent of Americans by wealth are only 2 percent Black.

The top 1 percent, is only 0.5 percent Black.

Bruenig cautions that when you look at tiny subgroups like the top one percent, you get into sample size issues since the Fed only surveys about 5000 families (he also did an article looking at the numbers from the older SCF that’s worth your time). But it’s plain as day if you look at the numbers that as you go from top ten to top five to four, three, two, one you get a less and less Black group of people while the white percentage goes up and up.

Now some level that “white people are richer than Black people” and “the rich are a very white group of people” are two different ways of saying the same thing.

But I do think the framings lead to someone different ideas. Talking about income rather than wealth, Valerie Wilson and William Rogers found that the black/white economic gap grew between 1979 and 2016 primarily because wage inequality overall grew (see also this discussion in The Grio). You could address that either by trying to create a more egalitarian wage structure or by trying to create a more diverse set of people earning very high salaries even while doing nothing to improve the average person’s pay. Similarly, you could approach the wealth gap issue primarily as a lack of diversity among America’s billionaire class.

Billionaires own a lot of white wealth

According to the Forbes 400 list (an imperfect metric but good enough for a ballpark estimate†), there are seven African-American billionaires who have a combined wealth of $13 billion. These people are all very rich, obviously. But there’s a (white) guy named David Tepper who’s not particularly famous and who Forbes says is worth $13 billion all on his own. And he’s only 41st on the list!

And billionaires collectively own a lot of wealth. Forbes says their top 400 are worth $3.2 trillion, of which less than one percent is owned by Black people. In a statistical sense, this drives a considerable racial wealth gap.

Now on the other hand, it’s not as if the typical white person is a billionaire. Mark Zuckerberg’s vast fortune is not materially benefiting Jared Golden’s constituents in northern Maine or Joe Manchin’s constituents in West Virginia via some magical property of shared whiteness.

Now a right-wing opponent of redistribution might want to do some racecraft to convince tens of millions of working class white people that they participate in the wealthy of white billionaires. But it’s often been people on the left perpetuating this idea! Simply redistributing resources from billionaires to the majority of the population would help most white people, and help most Black people, and would also narrow the racial wealth gap.

Diversity or equality?

Going back to Carney’s research, he’s talking about the top 25 percent of the white wealth distribution, which is a much bigger group than just billionaires. But you do see among the mass affluent some of this same impulse to say we need more diversity, rather than more equality. Take for example the town of Hingham in the suburbs of Boston which is getting its own YIMBY group.

Except according to the Boston Globe “the Hingham YIMBY group is not focused on promoting low-income housing, but is instead aimed at increasing the town’s racial diversity.”

Now one point YIMBYs normally make about towns like Hingham is that by excluding new housebuilding and zoning out low-income families, they tend to render themselves very white. Hingham YIMBY’s solution to this is to market the town more heavily to prosperous African-American suburbanites in Greater Boston and encourage them to consider moving to Hingham. And mathematically, they are correct. Hingham is not a large place, so a pure marketing campaign to convince more rich Black people to move there could make it a diverse place.

But look at this land-use in Hingham! The town is home to two MBTA commuter rail stations. One of them abuts a golf course and some underdeveloped land:

The other just abuts a bunch of underdeveloped land:

If you allowed the construction of apartment buildings near those stations, you’d almost certainly improve the diversity of the town. But more to the point, you’d create the opportunity for a bunch of people to live in transit-oriented housing with convenient commuter rail access to the Boston labor market. And if Massachusetts as a whole opted to legalize housing near transit, they could do an enormous amount to grow the state’s economy, raise living standards, and promote sustainable commuting patterns.

Convincing a few affluent Black families to move to Hingham, by contrast, isn’t really going to achieve much of anything.

And that’s the big picture here. Exclusion is bad for racial equity. But that doesn’t mean the solution is to fiddle with the racial equity dial by importing some really rich black people. The solution is for the Bay State to embrace housing growth and adopt international best practices in commuter rail operation. That would create broad prosperity that lifts up the majority of the people in the state and, yes, by doing so, it would also improve racial equity.

By the same token, you could take a Hingham approach to the billionaire problem and say that we need to make the billionaire class more diverse. But while conjuring up four dozen additional Black billionaires would have a impact on our understanding of Black wealth, it would not actually accomplish anything to make life better for the overwhelming majority of Black people. What would do that is the exact same thing as what would make life better for most white people — broad steps to create a less lopsided distribution of economic resources.

Tractable solutions are not “reductionism”

Now please do not read me as saying that there is no racism in America or that class politics is the only thing. We have lots of evidence of racial discrimination in the labor market, in the housing market, in policing and elsewhere.

But the way to tackle those problems would be to tackle them.

For example, there’s solid reason to believe that the relatively straightforward step of conducting more DOJ “pattern or practice” investigations of police discrimination would lead to both less discrimination and fewer murders. And there’s probably a lot the Civil Rights Division could be doing with audits to crack down on housing and labor market discrimination.

But if you’re concerned about the economic disparity between white people and Black people, what you really ought to be concerned with is the disparity between rich people and non-rich people. You obviously don’t want to narrow the gap in an economically destructive way. But if you can find growth-friendly ways to redistribute resources, you mechanically improve the racial gap. And even better, you have a tractable political problem — most voters are white, but most voters are not rich. And white people are overrepresented in the Senate, but rich people are underrepresented. So if you try to build a politics around racial redistribution, you’re just going to lose. But if you try to build a politics around economic redistribution you just might win.

None of this is remotely revolutionary; it’s just long-held conventional wisdom about politics. But the internal dynamics of progressive spaces have shifted in a weird way. Everyone is sensitive to often valid complaints that they’ve slighted racial justice in the past. But instead of dropping their work to refocus on problems that really are distinctively racial, what’s mostly happened is either an effort to give redistributionist ideas new (but less popular) racial framing or else Hingham-esque efforts to achieve a superficial veneer of equity. But the majority of people in all ethnic groups are similarly situated in economic terms, and far and away the best way to make progress on material conditions is to emphasize that rather than reify the whiteness of the billionaire class.

† Thomas Piketty has told me that in his view the Forbes 400 (and similar lists from Bloomberg and other media sources) undercount the wealth of old money heirs who own diverse assets rather than large, easy to spot, stakes in single companies. If he’s right about that, the true super-rich class is even whiter than what Forbes says.

#wealth gap #class analysis #class warfare #capitalism #socialism

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midshipmank · 3 years

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These Violent Delights Review (contains spoilers)

Where to begin with this book? I finished it almost two weeks ago, but I put off reviewing it because I had a lot of thoughts about it and a lot of ranting to friends to do before I felt calm enough to write an actual review. I personally dislike rant reviews and didn’t want to be the author of one. And it’s not like I hated this book! It had so much potential! I still think the concept was great! But I had so many craft problems with this book that I actually started writing notes and using page flags to keep track of everything that bothered me. I don’t normally do that!

So here we go. TLDR: Brilliant idea, terrible execution.

I split my page flags into 3 categories while reading: language, character, and gang-related (which ended up becoming worldbuilding in general). All of these informed my thoughts on what I found to be the biggest problem with this book in the end, which was the fact that it was a retelling. Or rather, it was supposed to be. This book is marketed as “Romeo and Juliet in 1920s Shanghai,” but it really, really does not want to be Romeo and Juliet. It is fighting that framework with everything it’s got. It makes me think that the idea of retelling Romeo and Juliet, regardless of setting, was probably the original inspiration for the book, but it definitely outgrew the play. The author needed to just let the retelling go and let the story be free.

What really firmly convinced me that this should not have been a R&J retelling was actually the author’s note in the back of the book. Gong talks about how, though there was no blood feud between two gangs at this time, she tried to keep the story as true to history as possible. So she lists all of the groups that were vying for power in 1920s Shanghai, all of whom were featured in the story in some way. And that’s exactly the problem. From a political perspective, Romeo and Juliet is a very simple play. There are only three groups with power: the Montagues, the Capulets, and the Prince. In 1920s Shanghai, there were always at least four (counting all the foreigners as one group) and, with her added blood feud, there’s always at least FIVE. If you have three other powerful groups running around causing problems, it pretty much takes all the intensity of your blood feud out of your blood feud. With everything else that was going on with the Communists, Nationalists, and foreigners, whenever the blood feud between the gangs came up, I was always sort of like, “Why is this here? It feels so pointless. What could it possibly add to the story?” All it really did was slow everything down because the gangs refused to work with each other, and add a layer of ~forbiddenness~ to the main romance. The actual plot of the story, about a British businessman unleashing a madness-inducing insect upon Shanghai, had literally nothing to do with the blood feud.

It would have made more sense to insert Roma and Juliette into two of the existing powers of historical Shanghai, and, indeed, Gong almost did: Roma could have been part of the “foreigners” block, like Paul Dexter. But for some reason the White Flowers were treated as separate from the foreigners for reasons I don’t totally understand. In the author’s note, Gong talks about how the Russian refugees in Shanghai never actually held much power, but that there was a reason she made them equal in power to the Scarlet Gang in this story. She doesn’t ever actually give that reason. Basically, as I read the author’s note, I kept thinking, “Then why didn’t you write about this? Or that? Or that? Why did you add all this stuff, when the actual history is more interesting?”

The other things that made this feel really unlike Romeo and Juliet are all character and gang-related. The thing that makes Romeo and Juliet WORK is that the characters, even when foolish and impulsive, COMMIT to the foolish and impulsive decisions they make. And those decisions have MASSIVE consequences. In a short series of fatal moves, they bind themselves to their fates. But halfway through this book, in the middle of yet another argument about what should be done (if anything) about the madness, I stopped and thought to myself, what has been done? What have these characters actually been doing? I was halfway through the book and it felt like nothing had happened. Sure, people had died and guns had been fired, but what were the consequences? Had anything actually CHANGED? It was at that point that I began to add page flags and take notes. I was tired and frustrated by the endless pages of characters waffling around Shanghai, having the same arguments over and over, and not accomplishing anything. This book was paced like it was written by the seat of Gong’s pants during NaNoWriMo, and then never underwent any significant structural edits. (The meanest my rants about this book ever got was after I finished it and described it to my twin as “sound and fury, signifying nothing.” But that’s still what most of it felt like.)

One of the best examples of what I mean is a persistent problem I had with Juliette that was both character- and gang-related. Basically: there’s a point in the book where she thinks that everyone in Shanghai can recognize her on sight (and indeed, this does happen) because she’s the heir to a very powerful gang and she dresses in American clothes. So far so good. But on another occasion, she raids some place in pursuit of the Larkspur with Roma at her side in front of at least a hundred witnesses, and then….nothing. She doesn’t find the Larkspur, and later when talking to one of her cousins, she worries that her cousin might have learned about what she did. But then she thinks, no, it’s not possible that anyone knows I did that with Roma! And she’s right. SHE’S RIGHT. She waved her gun around and shouted in front of at least a hundred people, and was clearly working with Roma while she did it, AND NO ONE FOUND OUT. Things like this happened over and over with Juliette. Normally I’d love an interpretation of Juliet who’s so hot-headed and driven, but she got away with SO MUCH without ever being recognized or experiencing any consequences. In the end, my suspension of disbelief broke. Juliette’s antics, and consequently all the rest of the gang-related drama, became melodrama. It made me roll my eyes. I just couldn’t believe it anymore. This whole thing with Juliette wasn’t the only gang-related thing that frustrated me, but it was the biggest one.

In an effort to give Gong the benefit of the doubt: Romeo and Juliet can be read quite melodramatically. Maybe this is the effect she intended? Maybe she wanted us not to take it seriously?

But that brings me to my next point: at times, this book seemed to take itself TOO seriously. I got this impression mostly from the language. My initial reaction to the prose was, “Wow, this is so beautiful!” Eventually, though, it mostly just seemed purple. I kept wanting to cut sentences in half. It was like it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a normal YA book or if it wanted to emulate William Shakespeare. So in the end, it mostly just seemed like an overwritten YA book in which the characters spouted needlessly flowery lines that just sounded silly. Again, it became melodrama. This was actually the first thing I started page-flagging.

The problem with the language wasn’t just silly though; it also had a detrimental effect on the plot and characterization. At times, the book was written in third-person omniscient and at times it was in third-person close. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but with the confusion of the plot I described above, it became difficult to keep track of who knew what. There were two separate times in the book when the characters discovered something about the monster and I thought, “Wait….didn’t everyone already know that?” One of these times was within the last twenty or so pages. I’m trying to stay calm right now, but it was unbelievably frustrating for something that had been obvious since the first page to be realized by one of the main characters at the very end of the book. I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw the book across the room. But it is very pretty, so I didn’t.

The detrimental effect the language had on character was mostly that I never felt like I knew any of the characters. They’re fond of reminiscing dramatically on the past, but all we ever get are random details and no actual story. I kept waiting for a flashback that never came. I’m not a huge fan of flashbacks, but this book really, really could have used one. Both Roma and Juliette are very poetic about their shared history, but it all rang hollow because I felt like I had nothing real to grasp onto. They played games by the docks and killed each other’s loved ones? That’s pretty much all I got. By the end of the book, I still had no idea why they even liked each other. It’s mentioned several times that they thought they could end the blood feud, but, given how the blood feud pales in comparison to the actual history of Shanghai, that didn’t seem like much. The blood feud is not Shanghai’s biggest problem historically or in this book! So why should I care?

So we come back to the main problem of this book not feeling like Romeo and Juliet. It doesn’t want to be Romeo and Juliet! It is begging to be something else! The real causes of turmoil in Shanghai at this point in history were the foreign powers and the workers’ strikes. Gong says that herself! She made the foreigners the villain, which I think was a very good choice, but the workers’ strikes and growing Communist party just ended up feeling like set dressing. Background scenery. It added nothing to the plot but a red herring. In the authors’ note, Gong says that if she had followed history more closely, there would have been strikes in every chapter. I can understand why that would seem overwhelming, but if she didn’t wanted to include the workers’ strikes, then maybe….this should have been set….in a different time period….because this time period….has too many political elements….for an R&J retelling to work…. Just a thought! Or maybe she should have tossed R&J, which is the option I prefer, because the actual history is, as I have said before, much more interesting than a fictional blood feud between gangs.

In an effort to not be entirely negative about this book, I do have a mild interest in reading a comparison of this book with The Beetle by Richard Marsh. The Beetle is a Victorian novel and, like many Victorian novels, it’s about Britain’s fear of reverse-colonization, or being infiltrated by one of the countries’ they’ve invaded. In The Beetle, the infiltration comes in the form of a scarab from Egypt that carries some curse. I don’t remember all the details, since I read the book several years ago, but I found it interesting that this book had a similar concept of foreign invasion via insects. I think it would be interesting to compare the two, especially since they have opposite perspectives on British imperialism.

So, in summary: I think the idea of this book was great. I would have loved to read a retelling of Romeo and Juliet set in 1920s Shanghai that worked; unfortunately, for a variety of craft problems related to pacing, worldbuilding, characterization, and language, I don’t think this book worked at all. It wanted to be so much more than a Romeo and Juliet retelling, and the author should have let it.

Am I going to read the second book? Maaayyybe. I might get curious enough about the backstory to see whether she puts it in that book. But if I do read it, I��m getting it from the library.

#these violent delights #books #booklr #well here it is #i tried to be calm about it but this was the most frustrating book i've ever read #i know most people loved this book but i did not #& i spent so long thinking about why i didn't that i might as well explain it

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greatneedtotakeanap · 4 years

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i binge read

the finale, episode 15 - the tower of nero

!!!SPOILER ALERT FOR THE TOWER OF NERO!!! this post under the cut will be completely riddled with spoilers, as it is a personal account of my views on the book as a whole.

it will be spoiled!!

(obviously.)

I’m almost too heartsick to write this omg. It’s been such a long, heartwarming journey, and it came to such an electrifying ending.

I’m quite proud of Apollo. I knew I was going to be, but the way he realized it, the way he realized everything... how Nero’s abuse mirrored Zeus’ and affected him just the same, how much of an asshole he’d been because of it. He made the conscious choice to change, and he decided he could love. He was capable of true love, he was capable of moving forward and being better. And he was. I was just,,, I was so proud of him. Seeing him mature was a really eye-opening experience, especially in this book, when he talked so much about the small complexities of Nero’s abuse, how every move was calculated and how it affected Meg. We’d seen wisps of discussions of abuse before, mostly in the lightning thief (smelly gabe) but we’ve never before gone into the complexities of emotional abuse. The way it was described was fantastically clear, in a way that undoubtedly painted Nero as the true villain, but also gave us the chance to see him try and convince his children that he was good. Apollo breaking down his every move was good for the audience to distinguish the meaning behind his words. Fantastically portrayed. The way it helped him realize his own abuse, too, was good.

And Meg. My sweet darling Meg. What an absolute baddie, I swear. She made the same decision - she went back to Nero to fight him, to test her own strength and power of will. Her decision to drop her rings and refuse to dual wield anymore was strange to me at the very beginning, but I understood it later. It was her refusing to use the weapons he forced her to use, to even defend herself against him. It was her turning her back on the methods he’d armed her with and deciding to take her own path. “The Beast is dead” is the rawest f-ing line in this entire novel, the Beast representing Nero’s psychological abuse. “I killed him” - she liberated herself by believing she was better. I’m so insanely proud of that girl, too. She’s come a long way as well.

Okay. After that analysis, let me just say:

THE GAYS WON.

I spent this entire book terrified that Will Solace was doomed. There was a line in the prophecy about the terrible ending of ‘Apollo’s flesh and blood’, and I figured that meant his offspring - his son, rather than his human form. I kept muttering to myself ‘Will’s gonna die Will’s gonna die and it’s gonna BREAK Nico’. I was just so worried. I didn’t think anyone, even William Andrew Solace, could survive Rick Riordan’s patented Blond Boy Curse.

But he was fine in the end! As fine as you can be. Solangelo boyfriends lived to fight another day. And their development as a couple was also quite nice. I loved their dynamic. We only saw a little of it in the hidden oracle. Though it was great there too, we were able to go more in depth and explore how they truly function. Nico’s dry sense of humor combined with his whole lord-of-the-darkness aesthetic x Will’s genuine compassion and joking nature combined with his glow-in-the-dark-ness was fantastic to see.

Speaking of Solangelo - they not only got stronger as a couple, but as individual people as well. To be completely honest, we really haven’t seen much in the way of Will Solace. He healed, he was nice, yeah, sure, but what about him? What was his personality like outside from other people? In this book we find out. He’s kind, compassionate, easily flustered, overly protective. He craves parental approval, hence him repeatedly referring to Apollo as ‘dad’ and being so watchful over him. He gets embarrassed when asked to glow on command and upset when people mistake him for a lamp. He’s impulsive and a little hypocritical - he follows his instincts (being led off into the tunnels by a random voice) but gets very worried when Nico pulls the same thing. He’s a fantastic character, and his contrasts to Nico and the rest of the ton crew were great.

Nico - he seriously was the hero of this book. Or at least the secondary hero. He saved them all so many times over - he took everyone through shadow travel away from the bulls, he met the troglodytes, saw an opportunity, prepared an offering to said troglodytes because he saw an opportunity, became an underground ambassador, later saved Apollo’s life again by turning a germanus into a skeleton. He led this quest, and you can pry that from my cold dead hands. And that one paragraph about him enduring all this shit?? MASTERFUL. He’s had such a boatload of trauma and still he stands. One of my very favorite consistent Nico traits is this: no matter where he is or what he’s doing or how he feels, he ALWAYS takes the chance to talk with those who feel alone, because he knows what it’s like to be truly fighting one’s battles alone and he’d never wish that on anyone. It’s consistent, too: him being the only one to talk to Hestia at the hearth in Camp Half Blood, him talking to and befriending Bob the Titan, him talking to the troglodytes. And I have really gotten to see his progression firsthand, sped up - I read the Titan’s Curse in my binge read series maybe two weeks ago, back when he was this hyperactive ten-year-old with a Mythomagic obsession and now he’s this prince of darkness saving people with an adorable glowstick boyfriend and man. I love this kid. If he wasn’t my favorite character in this universe, he is now.

Also, even though with this book Rick has closed the gateway to this world (sad), the end alluded to a possible journey through Tartarus again to look for what’s been calling him, but this time he’ll have Will. Rachel Dare even whispered a prophecy at the end, probably pointing to it (but we’ll never know for sure). Will and Nico through the depths of Tartarus - now that’s a series I’d want to read for sure. It’s really too bad we’ll never get to see it in canon. Sigh.

SPEAKING OF CANON.

Another way the gays have won: Piper Mclean.

She has a canon girlfriend!! We really struck gold. I figured she was aro//ace when reading the Burning Maze - her whole monologue about being forced into love - but it turns out she’s just wlw!! I love this, I love this. We seriously won with this book.

Other noteworthy thoughts I had while reading below:

- The scene with Apollo defeating Python and hanging on the edge of Chaos was great. Especially when the goddess Styx came out. I was wondering how all of his broken oaths would serve him and come back to haunt him. It was quite well portrayed. A serious rip to the Arrow of Dodona though. I always loved it,,, a lot. It made me laugh and sometimes grind my teeth in frustration, but it was always a nice presence.

- Apollo’s return to Olympus was better than anything I ever could have hoped for. I was really hoping that returning would give him a new insight, not just of being mortal, but of Zeus as well. And it did. It did! I’ve said it before but I am quite proud of him. His new perspective on the Olympians was refreshing. You can really see the change in narrative if you go back to the Hidden Oracle.

- It is always always always nice to see Sally Jackson. Woman of many talents, including novel writing, blue chocolate chip cookies, and excellent seven-layer dip. She was my favorite character at the beginning of this binge-reading frenzy (as stated in the first post). Now she is still very up there. Definitely top 5.

- Why does Estelle have Percy’s green eyes?? I thought Percy had his father’s eyes????

- Grover knew about Jason dying. If Grover was on the cross-country field trip with Percy and Annabeth, and they didn’t realize Jason was dead until they got to New Rome, then was he just sitting on Jason’s death this whole time??? Rip to Grover, he must have been seriously traumatized for THAT to have happened.

- The last two chapters were basically just Apollo making his rounds and wrapping everything up, so Percabeth isn’t just in a perpetual cross-country ride and Piper doesn’t live out her life forever in a grief-stricken taxi. I’m glad those chapters were there, though. Nice to see everybody again in their element.

Okay but you don’t understand the fear in my heart. I seriously thought Will Solace was a goner. I cried out of relief because he DIDN’T die. It just makes me love the two of them all the more.

This post has been way too long already, but I gotta add an obligatory outro - I read these books once as a little kid, and the past two weeks has been amazing getting back into them. It’s been magical and wonderful, falling in love with these characters, and I’m so sad to leave it.

#tower of nero #the tower of nero #ton spoilers #toa spoilers #tower of nero spoilers #nap binge reads #(the final episode)#wow #what a ride the past two weeks have been

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2istoliver · 3 years

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The Era of Misinformation Is Here To Stay

[Article extrated from THE INTERPRETER - THE NEW YORK TIMES]

By Max Fisher & Amanda Taub

This week alone, there’s a decent chance you’ve had at least one of these rumors, all false, relayed to you as fact: that President Biden plans to force Americans to eat less meat, that Virginia is eliminating advanced math in schools as part of a scheme to advance racial equality, and that border officials have been mass-purchasing copies of Vice President Kamala Harris’s book to hand out to refugee children.

All were amplified by partisan actors. But you’re just as likely, if not more so, to have heard it relayed from someone you know. And you may have noticed that these cycles of falsehood-fueled outrage keep recurring.

We are in an era of endemic misinformation — and outright disinformation. Plenty of bad actors are helping the trend along. But the real drivers, some experts believe, are social and psychological forces that make people prone to sharing and believing misinformation in the first place — and those forces are only on the rise.

“Why are misperceptions about contentious issues in politics and science seemingly so persistent and difficult to correct?” Brendan Nyhan, a Dartmouth College political scientist, poses in a new paper in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

It’s not for want of good information, which is ubiquitous. Exposure to good information does not reliably instill accurate beliefs anyway. Rather, Dr. Nyhan writes, a growing body of evidence suggests that the ultimate culprits are “cognitive and memory limitations, directional motivations to defend or support some group identity or existing belief, and messages from other people and political elites.”

Put more simply, people become more prone to misinformation when three things happen. First, and perhaps most important, when conditions in society make people feel a greater need for what social scientists call ingrouping: a belief that their social identity is a source of strength and superiority, and that other groups can be blamed for their problems.

As much as we like to think of ourselves as rational beings who put truth-seeking above all else, we are social animals wired for survival. In times of perceived conflict or social change, we seek security in groups. And that makes us eager to consume information, true or not, that lets us see the world as a conflict putting our righteous ingroup against a nefarious outgroup.

This need can emerge especially out of a sense of social destabilization. As a result, misinformation is often prevalent among communities that feel destabilized by unwanted change or, in the case of some minorities, powerless in the face of dominant forces.

If you are, say, a conservative American who feels a sense of lost control amid the pandemic and Mr. Trump’s election loss, then misinformation reframing it all as a grand conflict between patriotic true Americans and scheming social justice warriors can feel enormously reassuring.

It’s why perhaps the greatest culprit of our era of misinformation may be, more than any one particular misinformer, the era-defining rise in social polarization.

“At the mass level, greater partisan divisions in social identity are generating intense hostility toward opposition partisans,” which has “seemingly increased the political system’s vulnerability to partisan misinformation,” Dr. Nyhan wrote in an earlier paper.

Growing hostility between the two halves of America feeds social distrust, which makes people more prone to rumor and falsehood. It also makes people cling much more tightly to their partisan identities. And once our brains switch into “identity-based conflict” mode, we become desperately hungry for information that will affirm that sense of us versus them, and much less concerned about things like truth or accuracy.

(In an email, Dr. Nyhan stressed that it can be methodologically difficult to nail down the precise relationship between the overall level of polarization in society and the overall level of misinformation, but that there is abundant evidence that an individual with more polarized views becomes more prone to believing falsehoods.)

The second driver of our misinformation era is also upgraded by polarization: high-profile political figures who encourage their followers to go ahead and indulge their desire for identity-affirming misinformation. After all, an atmosphere of all-out political conflict often benefits those leaders, at least in the short term, by rallying people behind them.

And then there is the third factor: a shift to social media, which is a powerful outlet for composers of disinformation, a pervasive vector for misinformation itself, and a multiplier of the other risk factors.

“Media has changed, the environment has changed, and that has a potentially big impact on our natural behavior,” William J. Brady, a Yale University social psychologist, said.

“When you post things, you’re highly aware of the feedback that you get, the social feedback in terms of likes and shares,” Dr. Brady said. So when misinformation appeals to social impulses more than the truth does, it gets more attention online, which means people feel rewarded and encouraged for spreading it.

“Depending on the platform, especially, humans are very sensitive to social reward,” he said. Research demonstrates that people who get positive feedback for posting inflammatory or false statements become much likelier to do so again in the future. “You are affected by that.”

In 2016, the media scholars Jieun Shin and Kjerstin Thorson analyzed a data set of 300 million tweets from the 2012 election. Twitter users, they found, “selectively share fact-checking messages that cheerlead their own candidate and denigrate the opposing party’s candidate.” And when users encountered a fact-check that revealed their candidate had gotten something wrong, their response wasn’t to get mad at the politician for lying to them. It was to attack the fact checkers.

“We have found that Twitter users tend to retweet to show approval, argue, gain attention and entertain,” researcher Jon-Patrick Allem wrote last year, summarizing a study he’d co-authored. “Truthfulness of a post or accuracy of a claim was not an identified motivation for retweeting.”

In another study, published last month in Nature, a team of psychologists tracked thousands of users interacting with false information. Republican test subjects who were shown a false headline about migrants trying to enter the United States (“Over 500 ‘Migrant Caravaners’ Arrested With Suicide Vests”) mostly identified it as false; only 16 percent called it accurate. But if the experimenters instead asked the subjects to decide whether to share the headline, 51 percent said they would.

“Most people do not want to spread misinformation,” the study’s authors wrote. “But the social media context focuses their attention on factors other than truth and accuracy.”

In a highly polarized society like today’s United States — or, for that matter, India or parts of Europe — those incentives pull heavily toward ingroup solidarity and outgroup derogation. They do not much favor consensus reality or abstract ideals of accuracy.

As people get more prone to misinformation, opportunists and charlatans are also getting better at exploiting this. That can mean tear-it-all-down populists who rise on promises to smash the establishment and control minorities. It can also mean government agencies or freelance hacker groups stirring up social divisions abroad for their benefit. But the roots of the crisis go deeper than them.

“The problem is that when we encounter opposing views in the age and context of social media, it’s not like reading them in a newspaper while sitting alone,” the sociologist Zeynep Tufekci wrote in a much-circulated MIT Technology Review article. “It’s like hearing them from the opposing team while sitting with our fellow fans in a football stadium. Online, we’re connected with our communities, and we seek approval from our like-minded peers. We bond with our team by yelling at the fans of the other one.”

In an ecosystem where that sense of identity conflict is all-consuming, she wrote, “belonging is stronger than facts.”

Continue

#misinformation #anthropology #psychology #sociology #digital world #politics #inspainthesame socialmedia identity

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lucarioisinthevoid · 3 years

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I hate to be That Guy but I feel like the interaction with Dave {or whatever the thing in Hell is} was leading up to something. It's likely too early to ask for elaboration but I have no impulse control and not enough dopamine so I'm going to not so vaguely indicate that I want to see more if there is more to see. If there has to be a cast perhaps Mangle, Toy Chica, Ballora and of course Springtrap. If it isn't that deep, I'm sorry I wasted your time! Have a good whatever time you read this at.

(Absolutely be That Guy™, I LOVE That Guy™! Though frankly, I feel like you’re overhyping this, while I do have a bit of story around, it’s no good. Ah, whatever, there’s only like- 35 more days of this stuff, so it doesn’t matter if I write myself into corners. All these drabbles are EXCLUSIVELY written with zero brain, but still, thank you very much for that request. While I would LOVE to make a drabble with that cast, because it’s a fun one that crawls into your office directly, it wouldn’t be that lore heavy. So instead these people are just going to be cameos. Also, jumping forward in time by a fair bit Warning for a fair bit of torture!)

Time didn’t work right here. Time passed, but it didn’t. Not at all. He was allowed to drink and occasionally eat in the saferoom, but… Everything that would be an temporal indicator was gone. No natural light, no physical change coming from this body- At least he was still breathing and bleeding, but that didn’t make it much easier to define the timeframe he was in. Over and over and over. The night started over and over and over. He was growing more and more sick of it. The only interesting thing left… … was dying. It gave him the chance to talk to the animatronics- and to get to know the someone who was behind this place. The one he shouldn’t have killed. It was such a peculiar title. So pompous, it must have been made up by a child. But who the hell could that be?! There had been too many kids. The only really noteworthy ones being Lucas and Charlie. Yet it didn’t see like they were here- A meeting with the Marionette had been enough to prove as much. The day the words “I don’t hate you” came from the dangly creature’s mouth was the day he would simply vanish from the universe. And Lucas? Lucas was too kind, too hesitant- he had preserved his gentle nature, fighting only when absolutely necessary. There was no way he would create an entire torture location. Hell, he had even tried to ask Scott, but he refused to talk about it. All he guaranteed was that it wasn’t him. No, no, it had to be a kid- everything about this place told him that. He knew how kids worked and what they liked. A baddie that attacked you killed you within a second just because you didn’t watch his show? Ludicrous. And no, he wouldn’t talk about Toy Freddy. Some of the animatronics had nothing of interest to say- But many did. The real bothersome point that had been standing out to him was how… actually friendly the machines were. Yes, they HURT him, but they called him a friend, cracked jokes and their attacks oftentimes seemed like mere petty retaliation… as if they didn’t really meant for any permanent harm. In a world where nothing left permanent harm, their retaliations became rather vicious. An exception were the nightmares, but it seemed to be in their nature. Henry made notes where he could, as well as getting used to their method of attack and torture. It was a double win- … … yet he hated it. It frustrated him to have to invite some of them in. It felt filthy. Death was something intimate. If someone killed you, there should be some sort of purpose, some sort of connection there. It was another mark you could leave on a person. There was something appalling about offering your body, regardless in what way. At least to him. Alas, his blood was the only currency still existing in this world and at least he got to pick and choose when he would be torn to pieces, most of the time. By now he had become good enough. Good enough. Barely. Impatiently he clicked his nails on the table, quickly putting on the mask as the room started flickering. Toy Chica peeked through his eyeholes, grinning. “… and? Who has the honor today, Henryyyy?” “Not you.” “Aw! How unfair!” She pouted, looking out of the doors, trying to spot Ballora, who both of them could hear moving in the back. “We had sooooo much fun last time! What? You want Ballora to-“ “You testing out your cannibalistic fantasies is not my definition of fun, dear. And no. I need to talk to someone else.” “Pft.” Pouting she moved away, slinking back into the vent on the ground. “Fine! Have fun I guess. Better not let me catch you without the mask! Because if I get to win, I get to win, no exceptions.” “There will be no problems with that.” Henry quietly sighed, taking off the old mask. It wasn’t even a Fredbear mask. For some reason it was one of the most disappointing things about this place. Ballora drew close and he carefully closed the door on her, trying not to interrupt her routine too much. Nothing ruined a good melody like the sound of stomping doors. Today he wasn’t worried about the power running out. It all stopped once one of them entered. Everything stopped once one of them entered. A rule. Many rules. And none of them made much sense. Again his nails tapped on the table, anxious and almost angry. Mangle was probably already caught in a vent-snare… … but William took far too long to get here. William. Dave. Davetrap. Never mind that. Finally, the bemused mask of the rotten bunny appeared in the vents, staring down at him. “… having fun?” “… Dave. Good to see you.” Henry stared up to him. “We need to talk.” “Eh… I dunno…” Playfully Dave began crawling back inside. “I’m not in the m-“ “You can come in.” Instantly he had ALL of Dave’s attention, even though he wished he didn’t. It was always a little uncomfortable to see William overly excited, and usually he knew what exactly it was about at least- he wasn’t sure about this one. He wouldn’t put it past William to be elated over the chance to hurt him. Without repercussions. “Really?” His one ear twitched as he stared down, transfixed. Predatory animals, with two of their eyes in front. Human always have been predator and prey at once and Henry had known it from the very beginning, he had seen it in himself and others. It was merely more apparent in William specifically, him and his unstrained behavior controlled by nothing but instinct. “Really.” And yet still- this place was a hellish mess and his mind was just as much of one- it reminded him of back then, when William was utterly excited about an event. ‘Is it actually happening? Really?!’ Really. Pleased Dave laughed, loudly. An ugly laugh when you were on the receiving end. “I told ya, Henry. I told ya you’d do it.” “… you know me well.” Quietly he watched Dave move out, swiftly and nimbly- “… and you seem to know this place too.” “Is that why ya let me in?” “… not only. But I might as well ask you while you are here, correct?” “Hm.” His eyes wandered over Henry’s body. Probably wondering which limb he should separate from his body first. Henry shuddered. Dave got comfortable in front of the office table, smiling. Everything else had gone quiet, the power not even being visible anymore- But the timer was. Midnight. Putting his feet on the table and leaning back on the little chair that he had gotten from who-knows-where, the cyborg grinned.”… alright then! I was worried you’d might be disappointed, since I don’t know anythin’ about this place!” “You do not?” “Nah.” “… then how did you get here?” “Uhhhhh, probably for the same reason you’re here?” “… but you did not DIE.” “I didn’t?” Frustrated the Pink Guy leaned back too, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t going anywhere. “… what is the last thing you remember?” Cheerfully Dave giggled. “I don’t remember anything! Never had any memory! Head empty!” Henry wasn’t stupid enough to believe that. Dave liked messing with others- play-pretend stupidity that was aided by his genuine habit of being rather emotional- but they had spent far too much time together to have that work. “… I know you are lying.” Instantly the mood changed, even if Davetrap didn’t change the slightest bit about his pose. “Ah! Ya do? Or do ya just think ya do?!” Again he snickered. “Either way. I don’t know anythin’ that could be useful for you.” “Maybe I am not out for anything useful? Maybe I am simply worried about you and how you have gotten yourself into a suit?” Dave laughed, loudly, but Henry continued. “… do you need my help to get out of it?” “No.” It was cold. And Henry responded in kind. “… see that is how I know you are not down here for the same reason as me. So why are you here? Why would the one I should not have killed brought you here…? After all- you and me, we most likely killed him together.” Tilting his head slightly, the other guy inspected him and for a moment Henry tensed up, expecting to be attacked- but Dave simply relaxed, changing his pose, allowing his legs dangling over the side of the chair. “Hey, Henry! Did ya miss me?” All smiles and ice cream. “… it seems pretty lonely and borin’ in this office. And it feels like we haven’t talked in a long time…” For a moment the Pink Guy stayed quiet, watching the other one, who continued. “We’ve done so much fun stuff together! This place might not be all that bad if we stick together, right?” He paused. “That of course only means anythin’ if ya WANT to spend time with me. If ya miss me when I’m gone. So. Did you?” Slowly Henry stretched his fingers. “… of course I missed you, Dave.” Both of them watched each other, the air prickling. Then, once more, Dave was laughing again. “That’s why I like you, Henry. You can do such pretty things with your mouth and mind. Sayin’ JUST the right things. I always love when you talk to me. Or about me. Everything you say is like a charm, making things so much better than they actually are. The thing is- Henry- with a gift like that, I can’t ever know if ya MEAN it.” Leaning in, Davetrap inspected him, his big, white eyes almost all-consuming. “… if ya missed me, how come you’ve spent time with anybody but me recently? Ya invited plenty of people into the office. Despite knowing I was the one asking POLITELY for it.” Ridiculous. … yet Henry had to play along. “Please, remain calm my friend. I was talking to them first, because I was gathering intel. Last time I was not informed enough, and you seemed… displeased. Was I incorrect?” It was amazing how much emotion this mask could still show. Just below the rotting maw, the little shine, a grin and not a fun one, judging by how it didn’t reach his eyes. “You have an excuse for everything, don’t you Henry?” “Or perhaps I am simply being genuine and elaborate on my feelings and decisions as you ask me. You on the other hand seem rather hostile today. Would you like to explain why you are so aggressive towards me?” Both of them looked at the other, and while they couldn’t walk in that perfect circle that pacing and threatening humans always seem to fall into, their bodies still conveyed the same. Then, once again, Dave tilted into the other direction, his large ear following suit, smiling. “Aggressive? I ain’t aggressive, Henry! I’m just curious! Quit bein’ so tense all the time!” Slowly losing his patience, Henry rubbed his temples. “Okay, then. I do believe you are at least partially real. But logically you must have arrived from a different timeline than me, one where you died and got put into a suit. Why would you be so mad at me however?” Standing up from his chair, Dave slowly moved over, as Henry turned as far to the side as he could to keep an eye on him. “Ya need a massage, Henry.” “You know I dislike to be touched.” “Welp, is it MY fault you’ve made yourself so tense that you now need a massage?!” Offended the animatronic stopped, leaning down to him. Smelling like oil and peppermint. “Ya really should let me do what’s best for ya.” That WAS a threat. … at least if this thing snapped his neck, it would be quick, painless and unpersonal. Slowly and quietly Henry breathed out. “… alright then, Dave. Please continue.” Yet, even if he had made the agreement, didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous about it. When the fuzzy fingers touched his shoulders he almost jumped, drawing another, somewhat sadistic chuckle out of his former friend. “It’s funny to see ya like this.” “I live to entertain.” Yet another chuckle. “… ya sure do.” The fingers starting massaging, digging themselves into and against the muscles causing Henry barely anything else but pain. Sure- him tensing up his shoulders didn’t help at all, but he couldn’t react any other way, the impulse to tense up was simply bypassing his brain. The other man behind him was simply humming his favorite melody. In the hall of the mountain king. “… remember when I taught you how to play it?” Trying to relax Henry began reminiscing. “Hmmm… yeah! That was fun! I dunno why people didn’t try to teach me an instrument before that, I think I would have really loved learnin’ it. Good that I met you!” “Indeed. Good that you met me.” … there was discomfort, a genuine feeling of worry. Fear? Was this fear? A fear not caused by the direct expectation of physical harm, but instead by- By what? He was probably just- not really comfortable with the thought of not having William in his grasp anymore. William was like him- and that was why he liked and why he despised him. Whatever came into William’s head, he would do and there was nothing Henry could do to prevent it. Part of him would be somewhat relieved if Dave just- murdered him right here and fast. … giving up so early wasn’t really his thing however. “Will- Dave.” “Yeah?” The guy was still squishing and mushing away at Henry’s shoulders, seemingly not caring THAT much about actually relaxing his friend. “What’cha want?” “… I only wanted to ask… do you like it here?” For a minute or so Dave paused, really thinking about it. “It ain’t the worst. I get to play with ya, no fuzz, no more havin’ to try and shut down Freddy’s or kill kiddens.” Slowly his focused back on Henry, his next words deliberate. “… don’t ya think so? Immortality and animatronics, what’s not to love? Sure, the torture is a lil’ sucky, but hey, ya said you’d do ANYTHING to become immortal.” Something scraped over the back of Henry’s mind. Was Dave being manipulated to comply? Sold a false image of perfection? … or was he simply trying to torment him, trying to fool him into thinking that he ever asked for this? Either way. Leaning back, Henry tried to look at him, choosing his next words carefully. “… while I appreciate my robotic works being with me and having no reason to fear death- I do dislike the repetitive loop at the unending threat of pain. I feel… bored. Do you not sometimes wish for variety?” “Everythin’ is a loop, Henry. Ya gotta be happy with the loop you get stuck in.” “… you need more ambition, Dave. Accepting and endless repetitive cycle is almost as low as accepting death. There is no perfection to be found in remaining with the same variables.” Dave sighed and retracted his hands, causing Henry to sit up straight. “It’s fine. It’s fine. You’ll never be happy.” “Excuse me?” “… what would ya still want, Henry? What is it that you’re lookin’ for right now?” “I-“ Shortly Dave leaned over to check the clock. “Whoops! Five AM.” Pleased he turned his head to Henry, who had stood up as well, trying to get some distance between them. “Ya know the rules! I’m inside, I gotta… keep ya busy. Give you a bit of a slap around.” “You will hurt me.” Henry’s voice was blank. He wasn’t really surprised. But the Springbonnie just shrugged. “Oh, well- I never said I wouldn’t. I said I’d help ya. Which I will!” Taking out his array of tools, from within the damaged parts of the suit. Of course Henry was familiar with them. Acid spray, a tool with sharp edges to scoop anything out, knives, a tool to part the tissue when needed- Cleaning. Disinfecting. Getting out an infestation. The psychopath was giggling to himself, as he sat the things down, Henry suppressing his desire to run away with all his strength. No point to it. It only would serve to make him look pathetic. More pathetic than he already was, in this senseless situation. “Ya know, I’m really happy I get the chance! Ya said ya were the Lord of the Flies… but you gave me the tools to get all the crawlers out. What will happen to ya? Will you be purified? Or simply emptied completely? Do ya think hell is there to make people into better versions of themselves?” No answer. He sighed, signing towards the chair. “Sit down again, Henry. I’ll make sure ya won’t die! Not even for a moment. You will see this procedure through to the end…” No escape. He knew the procedure. The body needed to be cut open, like an autopsy. This would lead to plenty blood going everywhere- William had never been a surgeon. Too impatient, too jumpy, too- careless. But after all, he didn’t try to put it back together- he wanted to clean it, fast and efficient. The stomach and intestines were first, cut open and then the lining was being scooped off. The stomach had nerves. Some of the rest of the organs thankfully didn’t. Eyes too, eyes had to go. The tongue as well- and then acid would be pushed up the nose, letting it sit there, Dave believing it would clean out the brain before he would have to drill into it. You would have to deal with less of a swarm exiting the brain like that. But before that? Heart and lungs. William was obsessively exact and radically reliable in how he did this section. He believed he had to be. There were no bugs crawling, no insects nesting in pockets of rotting flesh. But Henry doubted William cared. Nor did he himself care, as the all-consuming pain purged thoughts first- And mercifully, eventually, the life itself too.

#henry miller #Henry in hell #Dave Miller #Sometimes I forget that the one one-shot I wrote about Dave and Henry was semi canon #And then I write them interacting again and go 'wait why does it all sound like flirting'#Also Henry has such a fun view on getting killed every time I remember it I lose it again #god I'm tired I wrote this on four hours of sleep maximum be gentle everyone

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olivcrwilliams · 3 years

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( jordan fisher, 22, cismale, he/him) OLIVER WILLIAMS , don’t think that you have gotten off easy because i haven’t told the school REDACTED sweetie , no one can hide from me - not even a MEMBER of SIGMA TAU RHO. oh no, your secret is most certainly not safe with me. you know , i asked around about you & most people said that you reminded them of BARRY ALLEN with GOOD DAYS BY SZA playing in the background , that’s very interesting - i wonder how accurate they are. ( marv , 24, cismale, est)

hey everyone. i’m sorry for not being on these past two days. my friends decided to get an airbnb, surprise me, and then just swooped me away. im here now and happy to bring this character to life!

Basic Info; Name: Oliver Silas Williams Age: 22 Gender: cismale Hometown: Dallas, Texas Major: Secondary Education (Chemistry) Orientation: Homosexual Background; tw: drug mentions, abandonment - oliver is originally from dallas, texas. born to a mother and father who were not at all ready to raise a child. his dad at the time he was born was a pretty respected police officer and his mother had been a nurse at one of the local hospitals. from what he could remember, oliver’s parents were pretty absent outside of coming home at night. for a long time he believed his parents were hard-workers who loved what they did. - often times his older siblings would help take care of him, so it was never something that bothered him (at least that’s what he says). his parents missed a lot of soccer games, theater shows, academic achievements, etc. and he did his absolute best to keep his head up. - when oliver turned 10 years old, that’s when his life was turned around. he went to bed at 11:00 PM, and was awoken not even 2 hours later to the sounds of people that he’d originally thought they were breaking into his house. he and his brother thought they were being robbed until the realization set in that his parents were being arrested. his mother and father were both trafficking drugs. she was stealing pills from her job and he’d been selling many confiscated drugs that he would take from the confiscation rooms. - oliver and his 4 other siblings were immediately moved to live in dallas,texas with his mother’s parents, who they lived with until the move to college. his parents were going to be in prison for an indefinite amount of time, so his grandparents became his legal guardians. oliver has tried to put the situation past him and do better, but he can’t help to fall back on that overall feeling of abandonment and his parents placing money over their own children. - Oliver’s grandparents were great on the surface, but they were VERY religious. Oliver growing up was always told to act accordingly to their religious beliefs, and while they gave him support and were very present in his life, he’d still felt as if he’d been restricted on a lot of things. - Oliver had to often hide many of his daily lifestyles from his grandparents. When he realize he was gay he kept it a secret. Many other things involving watching certain tv shows/movies, being very left when it comes to politics, going to parties, joining certain organizations, sneaking out to hang out with his friends, him being agnostic, him smoking weed, etc. He learned to deal with it in his own way, and going through heavy amounts of trauma has made him learn to become very humble and very humorous from it. - Things really started to change when oliver went to high school, and his grandparents started becoming ‘members’ of a very shady religious organization. [I’m going to not get into this because it ties into his secret, but hopefully this is enough]. Oliver by force had to be part of this community, and started to see the decline in his grandparents and just how angry they were with the world. He kept this a secret for a long time, and still keeps it a secret because he doesn’t want anyone to know just how badly most of his family has turned out. - Oliver immediately applied to a college that was as far away from his family as he could, and his doing his best to move on from his life. He has dreams of becoming a chemistry teacher while also doing what he can to change the world for the better.

Personality; - oliver is someone who has been through so much that he’s learned to laugh many things off no matter how good or bad they may be. he’s always trying to tell a joke or make a witty response to the situation. he loves to make people laugh. it’s hard for him to be serious. - he’s very blunt. he assumes a lot of things he says out loud were said non-verbally. there’s also an issue of him blurting things out of his mouth out of pure impulse. he can also be VERY sarcastic but has trouble detecting sarcasm. - oliver can be considered quirky in the comedic relief sense. he is very goofy and doesn’t mean to be. - when he knows not working, he’s always down to be around other people. even if he’s just gotten off a long shift you could still find him at a bar or hanging out with his friends. - he has a hard time sharing his feelings or talking much about himself. it makes him uncomfortable because it usually ties back into his past and feelings he’d much rather forget. - he’s usually a pretty happy guy and does his best to hide whatever negative may be going on with him.

#MEADOWBANK.INTRO #//i will be getting back to everyone on discord. i've been away this weekend and had to miss opening. let me know if you'd like to plot #intro

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

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Hi guys, no written update for the POTC AU, but I went ahead and did a reference sheet for Duncan Ashe, both above water looking like a human and below water in his real merman form! (Honestly, it’s little wonder why Jacob did a double-take, seeing his First Mate and boyfriend's true appearance for the first time.) Naturally when Duncan is partially out of the water, i.e. back before he became Jacob’s partner when he was trying to charm a human, he looks a bit more half-and-half, like a more stereotypical image of a mermaid/man --

Rather like the mermaids seen in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, Duncan (or “Ashe” as Jacob almost exclusively calls him in just about all universes, no matter how much time passes) becomes more and more human, the more he’s out of the water. The more wet his scales are, the more visible they become -- as they dry out, his skin becomes much more flesh-like, the webbing between his fingers slims down, his arm spines retract, and his tail and flippers separate into legs and feet. Above water his brown eyes also adjust for the difference in light and look like a human’s -- otherwise they appear much more fish-like with no white in the eye.

Merfolk in general I see as carnivores, even when they are like Ashe and have decided not to actively eat people, so you’d best believe Ashe is rather disinterested in eating much of anything that isn’t meat. Hardtack in particular he loathes like few things in this world. He tends to eat fish more often, for obvious reasons, but while living as a human, he’s also acquired a taste for traditional blood pudding, eggs, and pork sausage. Ashe has also learned to like most types of alcohol as they’re easier to keep on board ship than fresh water.

Merfolk also by and large are not family or pack-oriented, except for a few lone exceptions (for instance, AU!Kai Williams and Keira Jones @hphm-brooke, who are a merman and mermaid who actively hunt together) -- sometimes they will hunt in groups if their prey outnumbers them, but they’re rather like octopi in the way that they’re abandoned quickly at birth and don’t live together in families. This is partially why Ashe found Jacob and his intense affection for his younger sister so particularly odd and why he’s become so attached to Jacob overall. Never having known anyone who would so willingly and without hesitation put their life on the line for the sake of someone else (as opposed to for their own benefit) before, Ashe sees Jacob as singularly unique among humans and is understandably very protective of him, especially now that Jacob has extended that same level of devotion to Ashe himself. He probably would’ve ripped Rakepick’s throat out with his teeth for trying to kill Jacob, if they hadn’t been surrounded by a regiment of soldiers and time wasn’t of the essence. This doesn’t mean Ashe is always very good at expressing his intense feelings for Jacob, though -- he’s more likely to show his attachment through physical touching and close proximity more than compliments or declarations of love, though he sometimes will give gifts. He himself was particularly touched when -- after he and Jacob first became a couple -- Jacob split up a pair of gold doubloon earrings so they could each wear one, to indicate their partnership.

Finally, like the mermaid Syrena in response to Phillip, Ashe has the supernatural ability to sense the emotions and intentions of humans, when in close contact with them. He pretty instantly picked out that Jacob was different from the other pirates on board Howell Davis’s ship when he first took time to pay attention, even if he was too far away to get a proper fix on Jacob. Upon colliding with Carewyn for the first time, Ashe pretty quickly deduced that she resembled Jacob in her courage, selflessness, and cleverness (evident by how she overcame Charles Cromwell), but upon getting a better look at her, he could also sense a very different attitude, one much less aggressive, impulsive, and eccentric than Jacob’s. Ashe also could sense, while they were in Jacob’s cabin, that Carewyn suspected that Ashe was more than he appeared, and yet also was completely sincere in her gratitude to him for saving Jacob. This was the thing that makes Ashe actually now feel some flickers of respect for Carewyn, to the point that he might come to see her as a “second exception” to his general distaste of humans.

#potc au #duncan ashe #jacob #jacob cromwell #carewyn cromwell #my art #now why you see why I have the tag 'oh boy here i go' on my home blog LOL #oh also ashe is kind of confused by orion amari #he can sense that he's different from a lot of other pirates too but he's just so...'nice'#AKA pacifistic #it kind of weirds ashe out #also yes ashe's hat is based off will's at the end of the first movie #he's the stylish one out of him and jacob in all universes #also d'oh! I forgot to draw his earring on his merman form #oh well #a real update will come soon I swear XD;#hopefully y'all will like this anyway...#also if you'd like anything more in-depth about some of the other AU players in the story feel free to send an ask!#I could do these for AU!bill jacob carewyn rakepick whatever to fill in the gaps where I can't do full updates #I anticipate as the election approaches I might not be able to update every day...

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