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#also me as an artist: what the fuck are backgrounds?? voids only
bagelvangr · 1 year
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Getting restless about not posting anything in a long while
also trying to post something that's decidedly not a doodle.
I know I have a bad habit of calling everything I make a doodle or a sketch, but I think I'm just too used to thinking that if it's not a fully rendered piece, it's not good enough to be called anything but a doodle or a sketch. I don't actually think this nor hold anyone to this bar (except myself, apparently lol), but I still wanted to post something close to what I can call a render, so here's a peek at what I'm currently working on.
Painting some emotions. Some real sad Eivor hours incoming 😔
bonus: the amount of colours I used solely for her skin and lips lmao 💀
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[edit] Okay, I just told myself to stop working on it and just post it lol I posted it over here!
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banavalope · 1 year
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Really apropos of nothing - from your perspective, anyway - but I do wish it were. Easier? Less open for exploitation? For artists to be able to explore the concept of shared / collaborative universes more often in the pursuit of creating original art.
(more discussion of topic under cut in the event no one cares lol)
I'll note first that I'm having a different conversation here than the ad nauseam one about an artist's right to own and profit off their intellectual property. We do not disagree on this point, I am staunchly in favor, always, of independent artists staking claim on what is theirs and protecting themselves with ownership and copyright. What I'm against is corporate abuse of this protection, because literally what do they need it for, they are billionaires. Eat my ass, my life has only been made worse learning that Disney tried to fucking copyright the names Thor and Loki. So, let's digress.
I'm coming at this from a background of having grown up on adoptables RPG forums circa Gaiaonline, it was a large portion of my internet community life; the concept of an adoptables RPG is tangentially related to shared universes. They have similar DNA: a collection of people all flocking to a concept and, through communal effort, build the canon together. It's non-commital, it's more than just you and some friends creating a story, it's a little like an open RPG except you get to keep whatever you made up if you decide you're jumping ship from Gaia to Deviantart because let's say you got into a weird internet fight once with a 22 year old over a PNG you paid fake money for, and have decided you really just don't need that kind of drama in your life now that you've turned 17.
Where they differ is in the most important aspect of one being open source by permission, and the other by design.
Collaborative works like Orion's Arm, or SCP for a more mainstream example, are fascinating examples of what I mean. The dedication to building open source fictional backdrops anyone can use for anything, for profit or not, that nobody can solely own. Of course, I feel like these examples exist so perfectly because the sci-fi genre has itself always been this way. D&D is also this way. Those are nice points of inspirational reference, but they're only two genres. Very specific genres, at that.
Because you have to sometimes consider, there exist people who want to write, or want to create, who are likely very good at these things, but struggle to come up with an """""original""""" idea within their topic of interest. Maybe their interest is so niche it's impossible to separate it from the original point of inspiration (see: every time someone calls out typing quirks as homestuck derivative) Alternatively are the people good at coming up with a multitude of ideas based on one topic, but no good at stringing them together into some kind of cohesive idea, or maybe just lack the motivation to do it. Not everything has to be a thing, sometimes you just want to share an idea in a way that matters without it being your magnum opus. Yeah, you could post them into the screaming void of the social media abyss, though it's hardly a satisfying compromise.
Imagine the work that could be created if there were genres upon genres of open source worldbuilding projects, and the safety of knowing the idea you're riffing off of hurts no one to use, as being riffed off of is its intended purpose for existing. Nobody owns it! We all agreed to that at the start! Go nuts! Sell it, if you want to!
"You're just describing fandom AU", yes, dear reader, astute observation. Shared universes are, to me, the natural evolution of a fandom. Instead of only joking about how, after a point, an AU is just an original story, or a certain amount of headcanons creates a whole new character, you take that joke to its logical conclusion. Maybe it goes under recognized as the next step up because we're all so focused on making fun of people for it, but to say so risks sounding spicy.
Anyway, I love collaborative storytelling, I love shared universes and open source material, so much so that I want to bake it into my own art projects. I want there to be more free art created and curated by independent artists, ensuring struggling independent artists who can't afford to be free are able to make their living. I want art to be more accessible beyond just access to products. I have exhausted the SCP wiki, and hunger.
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THE IDOL 1x04: Review
Again the big highlight of this episode was the three new song that the Weeknd just posted last Friday: “Fill The Void”, “Jealous Guy” et “One Of The Girls”.
As for the episode in itself, again the sex scenes or/and nude scenes were totally not necessary. I really hope that Lily-Rose was paid a lot to show so much of her body. I’m pretty sure not as much as Abel. 
From this episode, it was clear that more and more, Jocelyn is the big bad wolf: slapping Tedros, giving the orders to electrocute Xander, to cheat on Tedros,... in order to control everyone, by manipulating everyone.  Remember Rob’s quote: “You know what I love most about you? When you want something you find a way to get it.” She will end up like a praying mantis. 
There is again the mention of “choking” someone. Since the beginning this element is present. Maybe Jocelyn will be the one choking Tedros, or maybe she was the one who killed her mother at the end, by choking her to death.
When Jocelyn is creating music with Tedros, she is in fact getting inspired by Tedros. She is using him as much as him.  
Chloe is truly a pure heart and it was nice to know more about her and her background. 
From the moment when Destiny said “This business is a crazy, corrupt fuckin’ place” we see Dyanne entering to Magistrate Records and getting signed there with Jocelyn’s single “World Class Sinner”. The music label replace Jocelyn and manufacture a new pop idol that they can control and exploit. At the end of the day, they don’t care about the individual artist, but only the profit that they can generate from them.
I don’t understand the role of Destiny, observing, seeing crazy shit but not intervening at all. In a way, she is sent in as a trojan horse to keep the ship moving and ensure that Jocelyn stays profitable.
Poor Leia, I really feel for her. She is in a way a true pure heart too, truly wanting the best for Jocelyn. 
Izaak is definitively gay and has view on Xander. 
Nikki represents all the wrongfulness of the music industry. 
To this point, I don’t understand Xander’s torture scene, beside showing a new face to Jocelyn, a manipulative one, not afraid of hurting people she likes. She was even put on a higher stand.  But it’s completely illogic from Xander to stay in this mad house after what he has experienced.  And the favour for Tedros is him taking pictures of Rob and Xander’s lady friend at the end. 
Jocelyn is definitively not afraid of Tedros, not even after knowing that he went to jail and knowing his true name. But what isn’t clear is whether or not she truly cares. Also, she is aware of his problematic behavior and tolerates it in exchange for better art. This is a deal with the devil type of scenario she finds herself in, but it seems worth it to her.
Tedros find the perfect plan to get Jocelyn to be liked and empathised. But even after her coming out, with her big trauma, no one from her music partners came to see if she’s ok and all. Nevertheless, in a way, she exploits her trauma in order to sell out her world tour. 
I’m pretty sure that Jocelyn couldn’t imagine that Dyanne would stabbed her twice in the back, first with Tedros and then with her single. 
And for me, she was more hurt with Tedros and Dyanne’s betray than the single, because that’s why she called Rob, to get revenge on Tedros, even if they didn’t fuck like she liked it. But again, the sex scene was unnecessary, the S&M lingerie was unnecessary and ugly, and not at all with the theme of the evening with Rob. And Rob wasn’t there for her in definitive, not at all and how he didn’t notice the bruises on Jocelyn’s body when he was with her?!
Sorry but Rob doesn’t look like an actor at all, he is so “ugly” not handsome at all, he isn’t even credible. He should have an amazing face, he doesn’t have that. 
Special shout out to my friend N. who has noticed that when Abel was crying next to Prince’s poster, it’s a reference to the song “When Doves Cry”. 
Again, Abel is just a terrible actor. It’s even worse when you think that Lily-Rose have practised to sing like she does. Even the other singers are better than him. Shame. I’m pretty sure he was narcissistic enough to not even take acting courses.   
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RECORD STORE HAUL FROM TODAY *vibrating three feet off the ground in excitement*
(Closer photos and album titles and artists below, plus a little rambling about my finds! Didn't want to overwhelm anyone with a bunch of photos and all of my rambling upfront, LOL)
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Yes, they still have the stickers on them - sorry, I'm still too excited that I GOT THEM to have taken them off for the photos yet (and eventually...hopefully soon...I will take the stickers off). Also the rug in the background/under the albums is not mine, it's my mom's. LOL We do not have the same style, although her style is definitely cool and interesting and very, in her words!, eclectic.
So, if you didn't read the image descriptions, I got: Instincts by Romeo Void (1984), Quiet Places by Buffy Sainte-Marie (1973) the BEAUTIFUL, BELOVED REPLACEMENT ALBUM for the shitty version that's pretty much unplayable that I got of it last year or whenever it was, Sleight of Hand by Joan Armatrading (1986), Joan Armatrading's self-titled album (1976), Charity Ball by Fanny (1971), The Key by Joan Armatrading (1983), Welcome Home by 'Til Tuesday (1986), and I'm the Sky: Studio and Demo Recordings, 1964-1971 by Norma Tanega (2022).
I gotta tell you all, when I remembered to search to even SEE if they had any Fanny records (I actually had a list with me of what all to search for, but I felt too geeky having to keep looking at my phone to look at my list, LOL, even though...even though I am that geeky, no judgment necessary. Just plain, hard facts), I thought to myself 'I will shit bricks if they have any Fanny albums' and WELL- I mean, okay, that was an exaggeration, but when I DID notice that they even had a Fanny label among their stacks I DID start hyperventilating, and then when I saw Charity Ball I let out a semi-quiet scream!!! (NOTE TO SELF, I guess, THEY ALSO FUCKING HAD NICKEY BARCLAY'S SOLO ALBUM Diamond in A Junkyard! I was sooooooo tempted to get it, I tell you, oh my god.) Also, when I fucking FINALLY found the Buffy Sainte-Marie albums (there was even a label for her, thank god! As I kept fruitlessly searching the rock stacks three times - yes, I went around the store four times in total looking for this stuff, LOL - I kept thinking, 'Okay, so if they have her music at all, maybe she's in an unlabeled (S) stack? But how the fuck could they disrespect her like that and not give her her own label! She's a fucking legend, what the fuck!' and then I went BACK to the folk stacks - I had already looked there once, but apparently I didn't look well enough because I totally missed her the first time, and FINALLY found her on my somehow-still-hopeful return search), I was so excited and so grateful to see such a beautiful version of Quiet Places that I almost started crying as soon as I saw it. I did tear up, I shit you not. That's how important that album is to me and how heartbroken I was to learn that the version I bought off of Discogs was shit. So yeah...assuming this version plays well, I will be truly eternally grateful for my local indie record stores. :') And I will update you all on how all of these records sound, btw. Don't think I won't. ;D
ALSO...remember that post I wrote recently-ish about how badly I wanted a Redbone album? Well, I was $10 short of buying one. Redbone (1970), in fact - "It's a double album, so that one'll cost ya $20." If not for the fact that this old dude who owns and runs the store only accepted cash, I would have bought it, but I was lucky that I even had $25 for the Joan Armatrading and Romeo Void albums that I got. (Yes, you read that right...I got 3 Joan Armatrading albums, ALL IN FABULOUS CONDITION SO WELL WORTH THE PRICE, AND A MOTHERFUCKING ROMEO VOID ALBUM, IN VERY VERY GOOD CONDITION, for a total of $22. I TELL YOU...I AM ONE LUCKY BITCH! And I am grateful for that luck, especially when it comes to albums, oh my goodness.) Anyway, all that to say I WOULD have actually gotten an album by fronted by/played by all men if only I'd had enough cash to buy that Redbone album. LOL Instead I'm a predictable bitch and I bought all women-fronted/-written albums. :')
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rumblelibrary · 3 years
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Hello, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood... Hungarian?!...👀❤️
Can I request a Sebastian Zöllner fic, where he is a coworker of Reader, and there's an obvious sexual tension, attraction in the office, they sit opposite each other, legs touching sometimes, hands touching... Idunno... Things like this 👀🔥 but nothing happened... Yet...🔥🔥
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Never an Enemy [Sebastian Zöllner x Fem!Reader]
Word count: 5k
Warnings: A bad mouthed journalist with strong opinions about art and performance that might offend
Author’s note: Did I let this idea simmer in me for ages? Yes. Did I ever stopped thinking about it? NO.
You hummed softly while the music blasted in your headphones as you made your way up the stairs to the headquarters of the Art Tribune, the art focused magazine you worked for since over a year.
You liked the job even if to deal with artists was hard and the pay check could really deserve an improvement, it was stimulating and surely kept you on the edge. That morning in particular you needed to revise some background stories and just loads of reading to do to work on a new article for an upcoming exhibition. Just the usual fact checking, but you just couldn’t do it at home the day before so you decided to come early and enjoy some peace and quiet at the office.
You arrived at the top of the stairs of the fourth floor with a groan, you told yourself you had to do the stairs because you spent 70% of your life sitting in front of a computer, kind of self care, but brutal. You groaned lightly going straight toward the little kitchen installed for the team when you noticed something in the empty shared room full of desks. It was actually a really nice place with big industrial style windows that let lots of light inside, a very smart environment to work in, with areas where you could relax, free Wifi and loads of facilities. Usually people were put in big desks together, facing each other, trying to push a sort of ‘community feeling’.
Inevitably most of the people created barricades with books, and pictures of their dogs or even empty coffee cups. Yes, all cute and artistic, but do not talk to me.
That’s what also the attitude of the man you shared your desk with on your first day. He whined like a child for twenty minutes, complained he was happy to work alone, followed the assistant of the editor around the office and created a barricade of catalogues between the two of you so thick that you wondered if it was also bulletproof, only to rest his elbows over it half an hour asking if you had the change for the vending machine. Yes, that random man was you colleague and friend, Sebastian Zöllner.
The same that you are witnessing now asleep on the desk, head resting on his crossed arms while a stand of saliva went down on his shirt, wild hair and shoes taken off.
He could be considered an attractive man if he wasn’t a bloody nightmare of a person. You actually worked a lot with him and enjoyed his presence most of the days, your characters folded nicely and you would bounce off his attitude. He was strong on biographies and annoying the shit out of others, so he was always nagging at someone, you included.
You smirked slowly tracing his hair with your fingers, he never looked so innocent and you were always surprised to learn how those messy hair were so soft. It wasn’t the first time you did that gesture, sometimes he did lean his head like this only to be touched like an annoying mewling cat that needs attentions. “Kaffee” He mumbled making you chuckle, such a an annoying brat and he didn’t even open his eyes.
You carried on walking to the little kitchen room to prepare some coffee for you and your desk partner. You shook your head aimlessly as you started wondering why the man is here at this hour and if it was really a good idea to wake him up. To have him awake means to be able to do little to zero.
You watched the coffee get ready, the comforting tune of your morning playlist getting you still on the good side of your mood as you poured the coffee in your mug.
Then you saw it, an arm sneaking in front of you and taking the mug from your hand, you jump scared in a second almost pouring the rest of the coffee on the whole kitchen counter only to encounter Sebastian sleepy figure behind you bringing the mug close to his nose and inhaling deeply the aroma before having a gulp, you stared at him as his jaw clenched, his eyes got a bit teary. “Fucking hot” he whined making you chuckle, he deserved it for stealing it, luckily you were already doing some more for him so he stole your favourite mug but you had some coffee for you left.
You pulled off your headphones leaning them on your neck “No idea you’d be sleeping at the office, weren’t you off on some interview ?”
He shrugged “yeah, well me neither, but interviewing sculptors is always annoying as shit and those are always supersensitive” he said opening the freezer and pulling out some ice cubes from their box and putting them in the coffee mug. “Scheiße!” He cursed as the ice cube landing in the mug caused the coffee to spill onto his white shirt. You pressed your lips tight against each other not to laugh into his face, but he was already pissed off and it wasn’t even proper work time. You watched him lean over the sink trying to wash it off somehow without even bothering to take it off, just adding chaos on chaos.
“Y/N! Do not laugh and try to help me! Beside, the heck are you doing here at this hour?” You rolled your eyes at that comment, but you didn’t indulge him in that request.
“I was just looking for silence”
He nodded like he didn’t believe a single word of it, he was just an asshole and you had to deal with it like it or not. You almost hated how he was so freaking good at writing and that’s probably why many people indulged him. Even you knew his pieces on the magazine and didn’t expect to find out he was so…so Sebastian.
You let out a breathy chuckle taking your mug and making your way to your joined desk letting him wrestle his balance over the kitchen sink trying to get the stain wet and not shower himself in the meanwhile.
You sat down at your spot leaning the mug on side, hands covering your face trying to keep a clear mind letting out a big breath “okay, let’s do this”
You turned on the lamplight on your desk pulling out your laptop from your backpack. As the computer was ‘waking up’ you stared at Sebastian side of the desk compared to yours.
You had like a little citadel of books around you, but it was pretty neat, a little succulent gifted by your friend for your first day at work with the name tag ‘Danny’ on it sitting beside the lamp, lots of pencils and pens of different colours and notebooks to no end. If you had something in common with that beast of a man was that you both still relied on paper for sketching ideas and write down impressions in the moment, then onto the typing.
His side, however, was like a contemporary artwork in itself. Half empty cigarettes packages everywhere, the ashtray filled up, paper inside books and books filled with more papers. Notes everywhere, the damn king of neon yellow post-its, stains of coffee and crumbles of food invert corner, his red laptop showing off like a punch in the eye and his satchel bag always hang or thrown around.
You often wondered if the cleaning stuff just gave up on him. Your lucky guess was that he would probably throw a fit if anything was moved, so everyone just played the blind eye.
He was good at throwing fits.
You watched him come back sitting in front of you, half of his shirt soaked in the attempt to clean it up, he licked his lips picking one empty package of cigarettes looking in it and throwing it away until he found one with still something in it and he lighted his cigarette as he turned on his laptop. You sighed opening the window to let the fresh air not getting you intoxicated.
You went back to sip your coffee and stare at the screen quietly, every now and then your eyes falling onto the little cloud of smoke in front of you.
Sebastian was an attractive man, that was undeniable and you were sure that made him also a successful interviewer even though he was so random and chaotic, when he was silent and collected in thoughts he was indeed a sight to be seen. The dark hair framing his face like he was some cherub, his deep eyes staring into the void of his own words as he typed. He had a sort of decadent look on him.
Slowly the office begun to get filled, people coming here and there to tease Seb about coming early and he just waving his cigarette around asking for silence.
“Zöllner””
The chief editor shouted getting into his office without even turning around. Seb rolled his eyes looking at you as he pushed the cigarette in the ashtray waving his hand around to dissipate the smoke around him before standing up.
“I wonder how he managed to survive few days without shouting my name” he smirked.
You looked at him and mimicked his smirk.
What a chaotic man.
You had finished your reading by then and started to make a first draft of the article you were meant to work on.
“Y/N!!!” Sebastian voice rang through the office making you jump on your seat and he gestured at you to go with him with a big wave of his arm.
You looked at your screen with an helpless sigh, it seems like you will not write that article anytime soon, you’d better just have slept an hour more.
You stood up following that incessant wave as Seb put his hand on your back to get you in a bit quicker.
“Good morning”
You said as the chief editor nodded quietly “Look Y/N, it is a big favour I have to ask you” he begun frankly as you were beginning to get worried “you did your time with silly articles, so I thought it could be interesting to pair you up with Sebastian to go to tonight’s exhibition of Evita Schnecke”
Your eyes went wide as you looked at Sebastian shrug his shoulders.
“I need somebody to keep the horse with tight rains” Mr Megelbach continued gesturing with his pen at Sebastian and then at you “and you will dip your toes in those big time artists environment, but we really need to make sure Sebastian won’t hurt anyone’s sensibility, her interview has been obtained with lots of hard work”
“Yeah, we all know that hard work” Sebastian whispered in your ear earning a glare from Mr Megelbach who handed you a couple of catalogues from that artist and the invitation.
“So, put on hold your current article for today, make a plan with this train wreck and please make sure he doesn’t show up dressed like that”
“That was unneeded”
“All precautions are always needed with you, and now get out of my office the both of you”
You nodded moving out of the office, you were a bit anxious. Those artists were unpredictable just as Sebastian.
You made your way back to your desk with him as you sat down looking at the invitation. “So, it begins at 9 pm” you said almost understanding why Sebastian shouldn’t be allowed to go unescorted because the invitation on the dress code had: Wear something that talks about your soul. Only that could bring Sebastian to have an aneurism.
“I hate that bitch”
“Seb, that’s not a good start for an article”
He smirked as you said so but shrugged
“I mean it, this woman was born into privilege, she portrayed herself to be this underground rebel, but her simple black dress was a Chanel and her everyday boot Balenciaga, so I don’t trust her for a reason”
You smirked as you could agree with that and showed him the two catalogues the boss gave you
“Choose your fighter”
He groaned so loud he could have stabbed his toe and he leaned over his side of the desk picking one from your hand giving a light pinch on your side “teacher’s pet”. You chuckled softly as he always said that.
“Tell me if you read something that it is not about the performer’s way of life” he mumbled opening it in front of him.
You begun your reading and it was indeed the hell pit of a vey spoiled kid who was told to be the greatest since the first day of life, you picked your notebook and opened it taking notes on things that you could ask about.
Sebastian in the meanwhile lighted up another cigarette rolling it between his fingers mindlessly, his eyes looking above the paper at you every now and then among the little curses in German about the stupid things written there.
After some time it was becoming really a torture to read and you leaned your back on your chair stretching your legs forward for Seb to catch one of them among his.
You smirked as you often joked to him he was like some bear trap with those legs always catching yours.
He put his hand under the table bringing your leg up onto his thigh as you shifted even lower on your seat, his hand touching your ankle mindlessly as he had a talent for little massages like that. He did it the first time a while aback, a summer day where it was so hot and humid that you couldn’t feel your own legs.
So it became a little ritual among the two of you. You had many of those rituals, it was like an unspoken collection of attentions. Like you making the coffee in the morning because he was a grumpy ass. Or him always buying you some chewing gum or little treat when he went to buy cigarettes.
“I guess I am not the only one that needs a restyle”
He said bringing you away by the tenderness those little actions brought to you when he pushed his finger in your Vans shoe deepening a hole that you were trying to ignore from months.
“Seb, don’t do it, I wanted to make them last another season”
“Another season? These can’t last the end of the month, no doubt why your sex life is a train wreck”
You frowned at him taking your ankle off his hand to push on his chair making him roll back thanks to the little wheels underneath it, but he held on the desk and pulled himself closer again.
“What do you even know about it”
He looked at you, eyebrows raising up on his forehead
“Y/N, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed that early in the morning to go to the office and that’s a fact”
“Oh, and how on heaven could you detain my passion for this job?” “Well, I can write you a list about it, you can consider it a to do list on your next date” His smirk was so wide, he enjoyed to tease you like that, the bastard, he knew to be an hottie and he always acted like half of the world was up to fuck with him.
“Oh please, do it, I want to see”
You teased him and he leaned in elbows on the table staring at you.
Oh the sexual tension with him was too much, you always went down on this hurricane of remarks, always him mentioning how you need more orgasms or implying it, or even implying how good he is at giving them.
“But be careful, because any act should be performed and not only lived”
You said quoting the artist you were reading about and he whined so hard like you really stomped your foot on his balls.
“Horrid witch”
“Me?” “No, that one”
He huffed and puffed picking another cigarette. Sometimes cigarettes just died on his fingers as he forgot to actually enjoy them more than waving them around.
The artist herself wasn’t remarkable, she used themes seen over and over before, she had a background as performer/dancer and she added painting to that, but more than talent she had an amazing marketing squad. You read her story and her commentaries about living like in a poem, which always sounds pretty easy with a big bank account.
You did all you could to stay neutral even if Seb was going down to massacre the woman, you two shared a bundle of two sandwiches (or better say, your brought a package of two and he was skipping his lunch so you just handed it to him) until you decided to get parted and go get ready at home.
That evening you were waiting for him in front of your apartment, when a taxi stopped in front of you and his figure appeared waving at you to come in on the back. His eyes widened in surprise “Well, well, well, look who got all fancy here”
He smirked as his eyes travelled on you shamelessly, the dress was actually one of those you brought ages ago and never used, also to wear heels felt like new, last time you went to a fancy event almost hard to recollect.
“Just move and let me in”
You said chuckling as you looked at him being so elegant when you noticed it, the price tag on his shirt.
“Seb, did you just buy this shirt?”
“Yes, and I am going to take it back tomorrow”
You looked at him puzzled
“What?” He groaned “I suck at ironing stuff”
You looked at him as a little laugh escaped your lips as he told you not to, but it was too late for that, you shifted closer to him anyway helping him to hide that price tag better behind his neck. Nevertheless the white shirt was really fancy and fitted him perfectly.
As you arrived in front of the gallery you sighed and made your way inside.
The place wasn’t crowded but few eyes turned as you got in.
“Would you like some champagne?” A waiter asked and Seb picked two flutes immediately downing one in a gulp on his own as the other was still in his other hand, he put the empty glass on the tray and then picked a third one handing it to you.
“Drink Y/N or you won’t make it to the end of the evening”
You smirked as he was always over dramatic, but indeed the evening seemed to be made for posh people to show off how cool they are.
You spotted the artist pretty quickly wearing a Valentino bright red dress, she surely had the dancer figure and gestures which gave her some kind of an edge.
"She is all yours"
You looked at Sebastian already half way through his drink, giving you that cheshire cat smirk.
"Are you sure?"
"You know I will insult her in a second if she names her dancing background one more time, I saw the videos, she looked like a three ready to collapse on the ground" he chuckled as you smirked shaking your head at his metaphor, but he is probably right, he is too much biased.
"I didn't notice the open back before" he said referring to your dress as he caressed over your skin with his fingertips making goosebumps raise up your spine.
"What? Am I too sexy for your own good?"
"Probably" he commented not losing a beat to answer you. You were taken aback from a moment, his eyes still down on his hand touching your back before raising up to find yours.
Then he took his hand away and pressed the cold champagne glass against it making you hiss "Now go, I'll check this bourgeois art"
You frowned but you just moved away from him. He always did it, he teased you and then made it a joke. You gave it back to him too, it was your relationship, that's how you balanced it.
"Good evening " you said to her with a smile holding your glass in your left hand before offering your right hand to her "I am Y/N, from the Art Tribune"
She went from neutral to smiling in a second
"Oh, I was waiting to meet you" she said leaning to kiss your cheek, surely she was a woman with charm, with a degree of boldness that made her charming and also, you noticed, extremely touchy-feely with everyone.
"We can define this a sort of retrospective of your previous works, I liked to see the evolution of it" you lied, because you just saw the catalogue.
But that was fair enough to have her go on about her, guess what? Past as a dancer, about how she needed to express herself, how she was her own muse and all the stuff you already read.
"What is next for you then?"
"I want to follow my dream, I have always wanted to found a space with my name where people could rent the rooms to perform dances and arts"
You stared at her. For real? Like there weren't other hundreds in the whole city?
"What will keep you apart from all the others that did this before you?"
"Nobody is me" she smirked like it was clear and obvious.
You asked few more questions, but you were sad to admit Sebastian was right. There wasn't art there, there was just profit, selling a name, a brand.
This saddened you because you met many artists that had less than a chance to make it but double the talent of Miss Valentino Dress.
"Y/N" Sebastian warm hand was on your back as you were downing the last bit of champagne "Come, come ,come quick" he said pushing you away as the artist clearly recognised him but he dismissed her with some insult or whatever he just mumbled.
"Seb, I was working, what the hell?"
"Elke is here"
You still didn't understand, you were puzzled as the reason of that anxiety was still unknown to you.
"Like your girlfriend Elke?"
"Put an ex in front of it" he said looking around frantically
"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know"
"No, me neither, I thought she was just bashing around, she always did" his arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer "please, act sexy for once"
You were one second from hitting his guts with your elbow when Elke herself approached.
"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here" she said waving her glass around
"Yeah, well I work for an important Art journal if you remember"
"How could I forget?" she groaned looking at you then as Sebastian's hand rested onto your hip. Really? Was he acting like you were his date?
"Hi, I am Y/N"
You said politely to her and she chuckled "Run when you can, this man is a leech and you don't even know it"
She mentioned it almost casually, but you could feel all the poison implied on your skin, Sebastian's hand giving you a soft squeeze, you had never seen him like this before. He looked like a dog that just got kicked, his back hunched over you lightly both trying to protect you and for protection.
"Well, thank you for your advice, I must be a real torment too because we actually have lot of fun together, I like his unpredictability"
You said it from your heart, you didn't want to insult her or anything, but you felt bad for him. Even if he probably deserved it, to be humiliated like this must be hard in any circumstance, in particular in a place where he is supposed to work and being known.
He looked at you a bit surprised, he leaned slowly pressing a kiss on your temple and you smiled because of that gesture so enveloped in that feeling of tenderness.
"Your shot" Elke said clearly a bit annoyed that you as she just moved along followed by a man that must be her date.
"Lets go out"
You suggested as Seb nodded and just followed for once, he held your hand as you guided him and for once he wasn't talking or commenting anything.
As you went out he sat down on the sidewalk pulling out his package of cigarettes taking out one immediately.
"Hey stand up" you said to him as he looked up at you and you snatched that cigarette off his lips "let's go away"
"Where? Don't we have to stay until she gets naked to dance?"
You smirked "No, we have all the material we need"
You took his cigarette away offering him your hand as he picked it and you guided him.
He was silent, which is rare, when he was silent it meant he was upset in some way, he always had a nice comeback line for everything usually.
His head leaned on side like a scolded child as he slowly laced your fingers together.
You walked across few streets, your heels clicking on the cement until you made it to your final location pulling him inside.
"Constatinopole?"
Seb asked looking at the sign, it was a kebab place, your favourite by the way.
"I am hungry" you just said making him lower his head and smile like a kid with cue breathy chuckles.
You ordered for the two of you as he went to sat down putting another cigarette between his lips when the man behind the counter glared at him and he just put it back in the package.
He sat down slouching as you did some small talks with the guys there, you clearly knew them. The soft music from the radio holding the place into a sort of magical aura as his eyes travelled over your naked back once more, the need for a cigarette becoming even more urgent.
You two dressed so elegantly really were so noticeable in the bright lightend place, he smiled to himself thinking it could be a nice painting by Hopper.
You came back offering him his kebab with a soft drink, very thoughtful because he was indeed already a bit high on champagne.
You ate quietly together, it wasn't uncomfortable, your silences were happening often at work and always filled with a sense of common understanding, you leaned your leg up like you always did at the office and rested it on his thigh as you sat sideways beside him. His hand flying naturally on your ankle to give his usual massage, his thumb tracing your skin with imaginary patterns as his other hand held the kebab close to his mouth.
The speaker at the radio announcing next song as Rocket Man by Elton John filled the room with a melancholic vibe. You couldn't help but think the song suited perfectly Sebastian, his being out of this word, out of control.
"Thank you" he said at some point as he tried his best not to ruin his shirt, you looked up at him as he was staring, his eyes telling you something on their own "You have been the best girlfriend I have ever had"
He added with a bitter smile diverting once more his gaze, you smiled back at him, he looked so resigned. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you have never seen him so fragile before.
"I could be"
His eyes darted up to you, his surprise evident as he put down the kebab, the soothing voice of the British singer still giving a dream edge to the moment as he moved closer. You slowly shifted your leg to give him room of movement as his right arm sneaked to rest on the back of your chair closing the space between the two of you.
His lips tasted still a bit of champagne as he pressed them against yours, you kissed him back slowly as his left hand travelled on your thigh pulling you closer to him probably staining your dress because of his greasy hand.
He pulled back almost immediately before leaning onto you again titling his head on the other side. This second time the kiss was more deep, more intense. Your hands slowly cradling his face before pulling back yourself.
He smiled against your lips and you smiled back.
Maybe tomorrow you will regret it like Elke said, maybe not.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahlingLet me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3
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juuls · 4 years
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Hi Reylo community!
Latest edit: First of all! —I am more than happy to help people who want to give podficcing a try, just send me a message and we can work out details, figure out answers to your questions, etc. I would just love to see more people recording podfics!
It’s easy to be a podficcer; nothing special is needed and I’m happy to provide tips for simple podficcing! In fact I sorta ramble about my process here in this Answered Ask and include 3 basic tutorials.
To the Reylo community at large (writers, artists, readers, lurkers, everyone!): If you could pick one of your, preferably, complete (or at least a fair number of chapters in and being updated) fanfics that you would like to have a podfic made out of... which would it be?
I’d love to create a list of works where authors have given permission to podfic their fics, whether short or long, and to contribute to the new Reylo Podfic Collection!
But I’d love to use this tumblr thread as a.... thought exercises, I suppose, and permission, too, for people to podfic your work.
While I do do podficcing for Marvel... it just makes me want to do so much more Reylo stuff! There’s so few pieces out there compared to the bevy of Marvel stuff, but honestly, every time there’s a new (Reylo) podfic—it breathes new life back into the fic, the author, the ship, the fandom..... plus you personally feel awesome for the performance high and for bringing a smile to the writer’s face. That’s the best thing ever and I adore doing it, no matter how ‘simple’ the podfic may be.
So, AUTHORS, which of your fics would you like to see podficced? Blanket permission for any?
And READERS!!!—which of your favourite fics, short or long, G or T or M or E... would you love to listen to, or think deserves the verbal treatment? :D
Old, new. Canon-Compliant, Modern AU. Canon-Adjacent or Post-Canon. Post-movie Fix-It or forget-the-movie Fix-It. Gen, Teen, Unrated, Mature, or Explicit. A/B/O or Soulmates. Bendemption or Renperor. Senator Ben or Jedi Ben. Fuck-Jakku Rey or Must-Return Rey. Hopeful Rey or Antagonistic Rey. Blocked Force Bond or Open. Good or evil. Take his hand or don’t. Pre-Canon, post-TFA, post-TLJ, or TroS—I don’t know her.
Come one, come any, come all! What would you pick to podfic?
Pod together with us!
I’ll keep the list of approved fics updated if we get enough replies! I do so hope we do! I love Reylo, you love Reylo, who doesn’t want their fic put to voice? And also, let’s breathe some new forms of life into this fandom! Celebrate it with me!
(Sometimes there are already podfics done for a particular fic but you can always 1, welcome another for your own fic, and 2, request of an author to see if you can perform an additional reading of their fic—each podfic is different and special in their own way.)
Do you feel how awesome this could be?
They do.
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Blanket permission for any of these user’s fics: *
Nymja
TheOriginalSuki [[“Maybe skip the Welsh epitaphs, ha!”]]
Politicalmamaduck [[Tall Tales of the Western Wilds has previously been podficced by @luminoustico and @quickficradio 🧡!]]
Perry_Downing [[Devotion has already been podficced, and Powerless, Thwarted, He Knows, and Unbidden claimed.]]
Crossingwinter
EllieCarina [[In My Bloodstream has been claimed.]]
DragonWhiskers [[any completed works]]
PalenDrome (nerdherderette) [[any and all fics, ships, fandoms]]
🌟
Podfics welcome for specific fics (permission given): *
Delicious Ambiguity by Juulna (~24.8k)
Shadowed by Juulna (~5.6k)
Little Earthquakes by LochTayBoatSong (~5.3k)
the breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you by LochTayBoatSong (~36.1k)
Asking Price by SouthsideStory and ReyloTrashCompactor (~33.2k, 13/15 chapters)
Things Not Seen by SouthSideStory (~13.8k)
Chains by Veggieheist @veggieheist (~295.5k, 67/? chapters) [[contact author as they wish to re-edit the beginning of the fic]]
Dream House by sleepyowlet @sleepyowlet (~11k) [[“I read it out loud to myself and because I wrote it with the Dreamlands cycle as background noise, it has the same kind of feel to it. You just need to find a podficcer who can read consentacles without cracking up.”]]
Camera Shy by Sophia Ravencrest @sophiaravencrest (~23.8k)
Blades Crossed by the-reylo-void @the-reylo-void (~27.1k)
enemies-to-lovers by the-reylo-void (~59.6k) **
Within Monsters by AnonymousMink (~132.6k)
Hiraeth by TheOriginalSuki @theoriginalsuki (~47.9k)
Blood is Thicker Than Whatever This Is... by DragonWhiskers @belovedunderwing (~1.5k)
Siren’s Song by DragonWhiskers (~22.5k)
Specific fics we’d love to see in podfic form and currently awaiting permission from their authors: [[fics granted permission moved to ‘Podfics Welcome’ list]]
Ashes of the Empire by Skyelo_Ren @dancingpenguin57 (~128.4k)
The Moon, the Sun, and the Star Inbetween. by Silvershine @silvershiner (~120.1k)
can’t turn off what turns me on by audreyii_fic @audreyii-fic (~26.1k)
Tactical Surrender by destinies @destiniesfic (~155.8k)
🌙
Claimed with permission:
landscape with a blur of conquerors by diasterisms @kylorenvevo (~362.9k) and To Kingdom Come (~145.7k) [[claimed by @isitcoolthatisaidallthat18]]
In My Bloodstream by EllieCarina @jackpotgirl (~103k) [[Claimed by @juuls — awaiting pre-production edits, recording will begin, soon followed by posting, in a handful of months]]
connected in the deep and Split Soul by Juulna (~2.5k and ~1.3k each) [[short ficlets currently claimed for practice by @lochtayboatsong]]
Powerless by Perry_Downing @perrydowning (~213k) [[claimed by @juuls and will begin work on it in early- to mid-January]]
Sky Marked Souls by AnonymousMink @anonymousmink (~22.3k) [[claimed by @isitcoolthatisaidallthat18]]
Thwarted (~358k), He Knows He Needs To Stop (~140.5k) and Unbidden by Perry_Downing (~183.8k) @perrydowning [[claimed by @isitcoolthatisaidallthat18]]
* “Please claim” even if just replying to this post or sending me an Ask or DM so I can edit the post. Mutiple podfics are flattering to the author but some podficcers really don’t like to be ‘one of many’. Absolutely valid. You can even create a placeholder AO3 ‘podfic’ and link it as inspired by said fic, so people can see that it’s being worked on... as long as permission has been granted first, or course, sillies! :)
** Although an unconventional fic format, this fic can certainly be podficced by using (1) different tones of voice for thoughts, fic summaries, different sorts of text, and/or (2) different tones of pings/chimes/whatever for the text messages from different characters, and/or (3) adding in an extra line of, for example: *ping* “text message from thekyloren reads as follows…” OR (4), if you want to get fancy, you could have some friends assist you by recording any of the messages from ‘their’ character. That would be a lot of fun, in fact! Another option is (5) where you would split your recordings and give an audible indication to read the message, followed again by a new audio file, etc. Only problem with this approach is if there are too many breaks in the audio and you end up going from one to the other too many times in a row.
💫
And please, reblog and spread the word for this project! No project can operate by its lonesome; it needs help from the community it belongs to. ❤️ Here’s another link to the Reylo Podfics Collection!
Thank you so much!
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antiloreolympus · 3 years
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10 Anti LO Asks
1. Why is no one talking about one of the most stupid things we've seen in this webtoon thus far? I'm talking about the fact that H&P deadass pull a "I nominate Hades as an attorney to defend me in this case uwu" and the mf accepts (clearly the had it planned) although he is part of the jury.
Now, I don't have fast pass but I really hope this whole thing is forbidded by Zeus in the next episodes. It makes no fucking sense! Hades is not a lawyer, and as a god is not associated with law/justice (him being a king doesn't excuse this, he is there to "judge" not to defend the accused).
This really proves that absolutely nothing works against Persephone ever. She is able to get away with murder and have zero consequences for her actions, all while the smurf plays daddy with her, spoils her and defends her in court WHICH SHOULD NOT BE EVEN POSSIBLE LMAO.
From OP: It’s allowed because ‘loophole’.
2. I would like to add to what that person said about the characters looking too stiff. Literally that panel towards the end of ep. 179 where P said "I nominate Hades" is the best example of this. Wtf is wrong with her hand? It looks like a wooden doll with her arm extended like that. The only explanation I have for this (aside from the fact that the art style sucks big time) is that she's trying to imitate the art style on the ancient Greek amphoras (amphorae?), but even the scenes depicted on them had signs of natural movement, with the bodies looking much less stiff of course.
3. Anyone else wanna mention the backgrounds are also just not there at this point? Like she was already bad with this in the beginning but at least there was some sketch up lines to give the impression they were in a real space, but now it’s literally just blank voids of color and that’s it, and often not good use of color either (why is the above land pink while the underworld is blue? It makes it hard too tell what’s going on). There aren’t even establishing shots to at least give the readers an idea where they are and then becoming abstract about it, it’s all abstract and flat, which doesn’t help when the characters also are so lacking in character design and aren’t really doing anything pose or action wise. The world around them don’t even seem like actual places, it just seems like a set, and a very cheap one at that. It just ends up looking so boring in all fronts.
4. I don't know why it's only happening now but Persephone's eyebrows have started to piss me off lately. Why are they pure black? And when did they become so thick? It doesn't fit in with the rest of her fair and hairless appearance, it just looks like her brow artist did a piss poor job on them.
5. it honestly makes me sad looking at the first few lo episodes. were they perfect? god no, but at least the art was unique and had some actual thought put in it, but by around episode 25 or so you begin to notice the style is becoming less and less, until you have what it is now which is completely different, and not for the better. i know styles change and all, but this is a case where it got so much worse, losing its unique factor to look so generic and lacking instead. it make me sad.
6. Ive noticed LO fans dont seem to enjoy any other greek myth works, only LO. for example there's a huge overlap in PJO fans liking Hades Games and BoZ, and Hadestown fans towards TSOA, and so on and so on, meanwhile LO overwhelmingly don't even read other HxP stuff like Punderworld and openly hate stuff like PJO. They tend to only consume LO while claiming to be "big myth fans". It reminds me of Potterheads who claim to be big book nerds when they've really only read the series and nothing else.
7. its truly a testament to how bad the writing is from RS in that she honestly thought it was a dramatic twist apollo and artemis of all people were children to zeus, despite looking exactly like him and not like their mother. also, tbh, the fact hera humiliated leto and treats the twins like garbage, it is any wonder theyre being depicted so negatively in LO? theyre only used to prop up hades and p's "friendships" to eros and daphne. artemis is even the "bad" maiden. it's all so stupid.
8. the thing to me is no retelling of myths will be perfect, how could they be? but LO takes the cake at claiming its so researched and is the actual truth and is 99%+ correct (both from rachel's words as well as by her fans) with both refusing to even admit to any mistakes and refusing any critique, especially from greeks themselves, that's where the issue is to me. you cannot claim to be so well researched only to be upset when people notice the many obvious inaccuracies. that's not how it works.
9. there's a part of me that wonders why LO has never featured any MLM romances like poseidon, zeus, or apollo's many male lovers, but then i remembered she doesn't care about poseidon and both zeus & apollo are both evil to her, her made up WLW romances are terrible, and all relationships that cant be used to prop up hades and persephone are made cruel and abusive, so maybe that's a blessing in disguise that she's so bad at even remembering LGBTQ+ relationships, much less depicting them.
-----FP Spoiler/Mention-----
10. The whole trial thing just puts into perspective how much plot points go off the rails. I was actually looking forward to finally hearing from Demeter that Persephone IS a fertility goddess and them having a argument before the trial, but then it just left on a Clift hanger. And then oh wow Hades is being her lawyer, which??, pretty sure that’s not how that works but okay whatever he’s going against his brothers. But he doesn’t even make an opening statement because the other side does instead. And then Hermes shows up and his backstory starts and everything gets so muddled. I’m not an expert on court cases but seeing the witness be called up right after and the other side just make a bunch of shi up instead of stating a pathos but accurate opening statement hurts my brain. Not to mention the jury and people just speaking out at random? Like can Rachel just write something serious for once? Or at least somewhat accurate? Legally blonde had a better comedy court case scene than whatever this is.
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cargopantsman · 3 years
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Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here
Trigger warnings: All of them, because I am lazy. Also none of this is sensical.
Utter, hyper-caffeinated brain noise.
The problem with the concept of a "sense of self" is it already tries to concretize an amorphous abstract. It makes us want to point at some thing and say "Well... that's me." Whether it is a set of ideals that we try to live by, a set of activities that brings us a sense of joy or fulfillment, or, gods forbid, and entirely different and other person that "completes us."
I've always had an affinity for trickster figures and shapeshifters. The wearers of masks, the truthful liars, the artisans of duality, yada, yada. Since I was a child my first instinct has always been to blend in. If into the background, great, but if need be, if I needed to blend into the social fabric around me, I could do that too. To throw this into the high school backdrop; I wasn't a social butterfly, I was shy as could be, but I got along with the jocks, the goths, the nerds, the art freaks, the band kids, the preps, the whatever. Where ever I was I could fake that I belonged there. I was comfortable drifting in between worlds. (Looking back, I could have caused a lot more chaos with the information I was privy to at the time...[Oh, there's a constant point. I'm good at keeping secrets, keeping confidence. I'll lie my ass off to keep a secret.]) Does any of that really help drive a sense of self though? When your natural instinct is to mirror, to blend, to fade? When your point of pride is walking into a room unnoticed and, even better, leaving a party unseen? Does being a ghost count as an identity?
"Expression of Will" comes to mind... what does that mean? Ok, so some abstract thing is inside of you and you manifest it objectly outwardly. I was an artist. I made images in my head and "kind of" manifest them on paper. Some times people see that paper...  I was a writer... images in my head "became" words and some people saw that. I combined them into comics. Some people Saw that. Is that a lasting affect? Maybe the fights I've been into?! That time in 2nd grade someone was picking on a friend and I laid them out... the time in 8th grade someone was picking on me and clocked them down. Or in high school when someone decided to start some rumors and I held them up by their throat in the air until they turned blue? That was an inward thing that manifested outwardly. Nevermind good or bad, but was any of that... me?
Hmm. The beast. The primal... come back to that later.
"Expression of Will," "Expression of Will," "Expression of Will" ... What the fuck even is "Will"? Is this why philosophers get their heads so far up their ass? Is it a desire? The will to live.... living requires eating and the amount of times I forget to even do that... Maybe been looking at the phrase all wrong...
Will to Live (noun) It isn't a thing.
Will (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)
Why does that sound better?
Desire to Live (noun)
Desire (verb) to (preposition) Live (verb)
Okay, that feels better even, but still... Sense of self, will, desire, expressions thereof. Are these just the aimless desires and wills? The fleeting flights of frivolous fancies festering forlornly in frontal cortices?
The self with the will can direct the desires towards living. "Get in the fucking robot Shinji!" "I don't wanna"
The (ghost) with the (strength) can direct the (impulses) towards (being). Getting too close to a concept of a soul on that one huh?
Forget self. It's a useless moniker right now. There is no self. It's just this mind alone for the first time in its entire life. (Not alone alone, there are friends, but they've learned more about me in the past two weeks than the past 6 years so...) "What did they learn?" asked the projection of self that defines itself by interactions with other.
I thought we were forgetting self.... not an option really. Sentience is a bitch like that. But they've learned I'll put up with a lot of bullshit under the guise of strength and integrity when I should've callously called this whole thing ages ago. That I can shut myself down completely in the interest of bodily-self preservation. (Not Self-self preservation, fuck the English language). What did I sacrifice? What did I shut down?
Everything.
That is less than helpful.
The Beast. Vince. Your Shadow.
My Shadow...
What do you desire?
Blood in the cut, tears in their eyes, power over someone that wants that power over them...
Do you want that? I don't want it, I just need it. No... I want it.
Is that all you are? A sadist? An animal?
Maybe... probably not though. A caretaker, and a sparring partner. A trickster and a shapeshifter. A crafter whose tools are destruction.
Next problem, grandeur. Mythologizing everything. But how to see a thing if you don't blow it up/magnify it?
You lack a sense of self because no one ever tested your sense of self. No one actually fought you for who you are. To find out who you are. The ex didn't. An old friend did until she got scared by what she found there.
You don't want to be yourself because it's not nice is it? You were raised to be nice.
College. I controlled the group. Never hit anyone after high school aside from set matches in classes or sparring for funsies. They all saw my eyes and stopped if they were getting out of hand.
The Dom-Friend.
Don't use the d-word on me.
Destroyer? Yeah, that one's fine. That one fits. He says as he carelessly tosses lit matches around his entire life. Can we bring up the phoenix or is that too grandiose? Why shouldn't it be grandiose? We spend every day of our lives going through the same kind of tedious bullshit all the time why not make our inner lives a bit bigger, a bit richer?
A bit darker.
Why do you want them to bleed? Hurt and comfort. That's a big theme, a trope if you will. Why not have both at the same? Why not let her think that I'm about to kill her but let her rest in the trust that I won't? Why not let me think that I'm about to break her while believing she is the most precious thing in the world?
Caretaker. A caretaker kills all the time. Tearing out weeds, uprooting the prized plant to move it to a better place for its growth.
Growth.
The self isn't going to be found just in ones self... not in another either. No, the self has to be found in everything. The things one wants to run to and run from. The soul (oops) is formed by what it crashes into right? The mind recoils from traumas races towards panaceas, why not, if one can, flip the polarity on the two. Bring the darkness screaming into the light so you can see it, bring the light quivering into the darkness so it can loose its terrifying brillance. Balance in all things right?
You're not a very positive person, they say. No... I'm not. It lashes out in bad ways sometimes, sure. Control, control, you must learn control. But being negative isn't bad. Not if you can grow from it. No plant can survive the sun for 24 hours. Trees sleep in the winter. We sleep, we heal, we grow.
Self-Destruction!! That's a fun one... seven fucking months downing a bottle of whisky a night. Whooo boy. Do Not Recommend.
Got a nice stay in the underworld though and trudged up a lot of shit. Now I'm sitting here with my ears ringing because I finally hit the personal limit on Monsters and my brain is overclocked enough I can finally see shit at 4 angles at the same time. I am a god damned quantum supercomputer of emotions right now.
Faith and faithlessness are the same thing. Have faith, trust the future, don't expect anything, don't plan your now for your future. Sounds sadly like live in the moment type bullshit, but life is weird and people are complex. Shifting drifting clueless animals that want to be safe but don't want to get stuck in anothers arms even when there is one whose arms are so safe.
The damage runs deep... and two people with damage running that deep. Hmm. How much healing can falling do? The other just puts a bandage over a puncture wound and both try to ignore it, but then the blood gets pumping, the heart pounds and poisons surge to the surface. It's neither one's fault really. Life is a trial of knives and we don't always have time or concern to tend the wounds properly. There's always something else that needs to be taken care of first.
Divorce is a helluva drug. It is maddening, the freedom to finally to be yourself is line having the lineart stripped off, there is a terrifying infinity in front of you and the only thing to do for awhile is melt. Let the slings and arrows just pierce and sink in. Anyone else tries to push the sludge of you into a shape might get hurt when they find the arrows. I want to go absolutely feral in a way. In a way the whole COVID mess is keeping me under lock and key so I'm just prowling around the empty house like I always have been, but now there's some sense... of purpose.
I'm raging against any depression, the executive dysfunction is going to have a talking to. The sense of self is going to be found in stripping this house down to bare walls and making a blank canvas. Bring everything down, ruin it all, start again.
My self is emptiness, it always has been. I can be anything, but I should be wary of ever wanting to be something. (My career options are AWESOME). But this is a different emptiness than before. Before I pulled the trigger and splattered the brains of the marriage across the floor I was just a void, and inky black pit of nothingness. Somehow, having the Shadow rise up and finally start getting along with the rest of me, the emptiness isn't.... void. It's just nascent possibility and that shouldn't scare me.
It does, of course, terrify me. First time in 40 years being legitimately alone is terrifying, should have done this kinda thing when I was 20, but... I was an idiot back then (60 year old me laughs from the future). But I think I can get a grip on the concept that "I" don't exist, but I'm real... ever changing ever dynamic, not who I was while I was married, but a mix of the me before, a angry beast now, and something yet unseen in the future.
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chyuans · 3 years
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          hello , hello  !   first of all ,  i’m super excited to be here even if i’m like 10 hrs LATE  ( gmt timezone things )  i’m noe ,  a gay  they / them at the age of 19 ,  and this privileged lil disappointment of a jock boy is gonna be filling the position of kong_01 . despite the rumours ?  yuanjun’s actually not nearly as bad as some of the people he’ll be meeting here >:)  but you’ll get to know more about that below  !  if you’d like to plot just light up that HEART , or add me on disc*rd which i’ll give out in im’s , where i’m infinitely faster .  if i’m not gaming .  no tw’s under the cut  .
* backstory. > many people know of yuanjun, but few people truly know him. he's the famous kong families’ son, heir to the kong legacy, now forward position for south korea men’s national hockey team - which brought forth a ton of international fame from back home and amongst hockey lovers worldwide. while his talent is undeniable, he is long overshadowed by his families’ accomplishments, forever reminded that he’d never be the perfect son they’d hoped for, and no one ever lets him forget it.
> being the child of business tycoons who’s art business seemed to never be on the decline, tended to lend itself to an unconventional, pretty lonely childhood. 
> although jun no longer wants to dabble in the stupid shit he probably did as a teen, and escape from their home in a childish fit of rage and make the lives of the various nannies that tended to him while his parents were off being great hell, he still wonders sometimes whether this profession is what he would’ve wanted if he’d just not wanted to spite his parents. he loves hockey - that fact is undeniable. he thanks the nanny who took him there once out of necessity to stop his whining, and he fell in love with it almost instantly. but he also questions whether he gravitated to it because it was something he could throw himself into wholeheartedly to fill a void.
> he's very open to different types of people, and after being scouted at 19 and having a massive shift both in culture and identity as he then begun to travel worldwide, he’s a tiny bit more wordly now than he was back then. he's much more concerned about who you are underneath than superficial appearances, which means developing relationships are few and far between, because a lot of people do approach him because of his fame/fortune. he's unjudgemental to the point where his friends worry about his naivety and how easily he trusts people, but he's absolutely not dumb, just very well versed on telling good people from the bad.
> jun may even come across as naïve, but he's very aware of that perception is nearly important as reality. he's not extroverted in a way that demands conversation, but he knows how to talk to anyone from any background even if its just to maintain pleasantries. after competing in various competitions and versing players from canada to japan, he's become much more sharp and ambitious, a guy who very rarely lets distractions take their course. perhaps it’s with this that his family loathe his choices all the more, with his appetite, he was born with the skills required to run a business - pity he never took to anything of the creative sort.  
> working in a fast, stressful, highly coveted job such as pro-sports is a full time job and then some; jun doesn't spend much time not working on it. outside of his schedule, he likes bettering his stamina at the gym and eating healthy. he likes being surrounded by authentic people or nobody at all. he’s not one for trying new things and having new experiences due to time management, tending to stick to a schedule.
> he gets a lot of bad press though, which is beginning to weigh a little heavy on him. doubly now the murder has people talking. from being accused of performance-enhancing pills, various personality scandals, to being linked with ‘dating’ (see: ruining the image of) idols and chaebol’s alike. right now, he’s currently battling a lot of unwanted publicity because of a misunderstood interaction online against a wealthy sweetheart that went sour. 
> while jun might be generally unsympathetic and analytical when it comes to developing relationships with people that’ll last long-term, he's a bleeding heart when it comes to kids who may have experienced the same lonely upbringing as he did, without the financial gains. right now he spends sunday’s teaching a bunch of local foster home kids how to skate, and is trying to fund a couple of sports scholarships for those who show promise under a fake name, just generally being a good ‘ole guy.
> his family do not approve of his job, ofc. in fact neither of his parents have ever attended any of his matches to this day, and are only on semi-decent terms with him because jun begrudgingly is still tied by name to the business and shows his face at events for all of 30 minutes until he physically can no longer maintain pleasantries. his celebrity image perhaps is one thing they can manipulate, and even then, jun could get into scandals galore and still be doing his job. good press, bad press, it has the kong’s family name at the forefront of peoples’ minds, which always brings forth revenue.  
> pros: could be a lot worse considering his upbringing, collected, and level-headed most of the time. wicked good at sports, and keeps a cool head in a tough situation. ambitious, curious, a little reckless. eager to prove himself, rich? and very endeared to people/places he finds fascinating. which are many. knows where the good, authentic chinese cuisine is. hardworking and very interested in the idea of Progress.
> cons: the most private person alive, will not divulge any palatable information about himself or his feelings. devil's advocate always. will put himself and others at an arm’s length the second he feels (disgusted noises) e-emotions (love, namely). gets bored easily. paranoid, leads with the head more than the heart. friends > > > family. a little self-involved, never fucking sleeps - will be that neighbour you can hear padding around above your apartment at 3.05 am like it’s mid-day, aaaaand Loves Winning Above All Else
* personality & relationships.
> like many others, jun has his fair share of surface-level friends. he’s quick to be interested in people, to get to know them better, but it's difficult for him to get closer than that after a childhood of being picked up and dropped by those who looked over him - which kinda has left him with abandonment issues.
> he’s a curator of neat things that aren’t too overtly complex, and that includes friendships. so if you have something unusual about you, whether it's a talent or a way of thinking, he would be inclined to get to know you better. also, he has a lot of leverage with his job. being friends with a sports star slash million dollar trust fund baby who can get you free shit never hurts, just don’t befriend him for the perks, yanno?
> jun is very dedicated to his vision of things, and can sometimes be very obstinate in the way he a) wants them to be done b) doesn't accept other options, think steve jobs. he's very mercurial and can be nice one minute but isn't afraid to switch to hardass boss to get things done and did.  > he is insanely competitive and his strive is drawn out by always wanting to be on top. truly first child material. that's the kind of guy he is, with standards that do not reflect his passive side too well, which sometimes can get him into some “personality” scandals. he is driven, motivated, always looking for ways to be winning.
> i'm sure someone is bound to hate him, he’s probably got a few accounts online dedicated to a steady stream of shit-talking, given his cutthroat status or holding many hockey cups.
> jun doesn’t think too much about his sexuality - he'd probably best be labelled as pan, but leans towards those who identify as women? because of his current placement in a workspace, and with a cultural identity, that both don’t often lend themselves to lgbtq+ rights, i doubt he’d ever make that public.
> he works amongst some of the fittest people in the world, he knows how to appreciate beautiful bodies, but he's not about to discriminate. he's tragically a committaphobe and isn't interested in anything long-term right now, although i think it'd be funny if someone tried. he's very open for flings and one-night stands and even a friends with benefits sort of set up. 
* wc’s.  >  bring me his baby bro and sis. i command u. i have many thoughts  >  somebody who maybe gets in on his foster-kid situation? idk maybe they have a perception of jun being what he is in the articles they read of him, but they see him and are like <3_<3 he actually real Nice huh. i see this being romantic but it could bloom a really nice, wholesome friendship too. >  enemies. not gonna lie, he doesn’t vibe with rich kids w / a stick up their ass, especially since a lot of the people he works with aren’t from exorbitant families. people who loathe him for declining to take over his families’ business? like the boy can’t even name more than 3 artists off of the top of his head?   > fwb except neither of them know what “just friends” mean.  > i would love if jun had a confidante. a best friend, a partner in crime, a total bromance 'cause i can never get enough of those. whatever label you ‘wanna put on it. wiping up each other’s messes. maybe a Betrayal in the works  > again, gonna be a wc, but i would love a “rival” of jun's on a similar level (or bigger)  that’s entirely fabricated based off of trashy articles or a misunderstood interaction online. bonus points if they’re an absolute sweetheart, well loved by most people, and generally the antithesis of jun with his multiple drug/personality rumours, which in contrast, make him seem like the bad guy. 
> party buddy. this guy hasn’t touched alcohol/cigarettes/any other stimulants since he was underage and wanted to rebel. the word “relax” does not exist in his vocabulary. Help
3 notes · View notes
sensenoi · 4 years
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Rating Every Single Name of the Wind Cover
Why? Because I can. I am not a graphic designer, just a person with opinions. 
Criteria for consideration: Must be a cover in a published edition of The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. Hardcover, paperback, and ebook are all fair game, as are foreign language editions. Some editions reuse the same cover art, in which case I only rate one cover. Some editions modify cover art from another edition. If the differences are substantial, I’ll rate both.
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Kindle March 2007 Edition
Ah, the famous shirtless redhead cover. This cover is a bit infamous in the fandom for being both bad and cringey. This is not good art. It’s cheesy. The shirtless aspect is silly, and the windswept hair is so windswept, you’d think Kvothe was in a tornado. Nice balance with the title and author text, although it looks like the title and author text are slightly off center.
3/10
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Hardcover April 2007 Edition This is just a zoomed in crop of the above cover, which is a little lazy. It does make for a better cover image, except the creepy goat man bust has nothing to do with the plot of Name of the Wind. So I suppose they cancel out.
3/10
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Mass Market Paperback April 2009 Edition
I despise this cover. It’s a lazy design, and the photo manipulation is terrible. Points I guess for good title text placement. But the photo manipulation is so! So! Bad! This is also the start of the trend of a hooded, cloaked figure with his back to the viewer staring out into the void. It is a bad trend.
2/10
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Paperback UK June 2008 Edition
We’re still with the hooded, cloaked figure, but at least he’s facing front this time. I like the embellishment on the ‘W’ in the title text, although it gets a little pumpkin viney. Overall, it’s an ok cover. It doesn’t make me cringe, but it doesn’t grab the viewer’s interest, either.
4/10
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Paperback Spanish May 2009 Edition
Same image as the previous cover, but this one is uncropped and has a different plant border. I’m not sure how successful the changes are. On the one hand, shrinking the image of the figure makes the figure look more mysterious, which is good. But on the other hand, this is a bad plant border. I thought there was some corn on the right side for a minute.
4/10
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Hardcover 10th Anniversary October 2017 Edition
10th Anniversary edition got fancy, and it shows. I love the ruin influence in the title text, which is a great callback to the use of ruins in the novel and also a more creative and unexpected choice than making the title text leafy. That being said, the “of the” in the title text is very oddly formatted and doesn’t fit the style. The cover illustration is pretty great, with lots of symbolism for old fans while still maintaining visual interest for new readers who are browsing and happen to pick the book up. The Cinder statue is delightfully creepy and much more relevant to the novel than the dumb pan statue from the earlier cover.
9/10
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Paperback Turkish March 2007 Edition
Another trend starting here: Cloaked figure staring out at a city in the distance. I like the painting, at least what I can see of it. I find the choice to crop out most of the painting really bizarre. Is this supposed to be a telescope we’re looking through? And the leaves look like lily pads. The title and author text leaf embellishments are quite nice here, but I don’t know why there’s a metallic color shift. Overall, a poor use of space.
4/10
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Hardcover German March 2007 Edition
Oh look! A cloaked figure staring at a city. What a surprise. I rather like the title text design, which is pretty creative and a good way to make the title visually appealing. I wish the city in the painting weren’t so damn faded and distant – I think it’s a mistake to keep the visual focus on the figure exclusively and only hint at the city beyond.
6/10
Paperback Portuguese September 2009 Edition
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This cover is terrible. I would say the worst, but there’s more still to come. Anyways, this is incredibly bad. We’re once again with the hooded, cloaked figure with his back to the viewer, which is a lazy and uninteresting pose. The image is badly photoshopped and looks like an alternate movie poster for The Blair Witch Project. There’s nothing interesting about the image, nothing that interests the viewer. The title font isn’t boring, I guess. That’s the only good thing I have to say about this. 1/10
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Paperback Portuguese July 2009 Edition
Still another cloaked figure staring off at a distant city, but this is one my favorite versions of this trope. The city is far enough in the middle distance that the figure is the main focus, but we can still see enough of the city to see that it’s cool looking. I’m glad to see the bridge from the books, which is a nice detail.  The title text does a good job of filling in the empty space of the painting without crowding the other elements.
9/10
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Paperback French November 2009 Edition
This is the same cover image as before, but it’s been cropped so that the figure is centered. I don’t like the change – the balance is better when the figure is off center. Also, the title text is way too big and dominates, which is unfortunate because the Spanish cover had such a lovely balance throughout. 7/10
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Hardcover Dutch July 2007 Edition
Yet. Another. Hooded figure. Staring. At a city. Wow. This one has a tree, at least. The image is… fine? I might be kinder to it if I hadn’t seen several better iterations of this right before. Because so much of the image is shrouded in fog, there’s very little to go on in terms of visual interest. And while I don’t mind the shadowed, muted color scheme, it also means that there’s very little to distinguish the cloaked figure and make him intriguing. The shadow initials behind the title text is horrific and obscures the title somewhat, so docking a couple of points for that. 5/10
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Hardcover UK January 2017 Edition
Ahahahaha. This looks like the My Neighbor Totoro edition of Name of the Wind. It’s very silly and lighthearted, but wholly inappropriate for a book whose reading level is above first grade. If this was a kid’s book, I’d give it full marks. But Name of the Wind is very much for adults, and this cover is way too young and childish.
1/10
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Paperback Polish August 2008
YIKES. I cannot figure out which scene or location from the book this image is trying to evoke, which makes me think the cover artist did not have the book or a text excerpt to work from. What the hell are those weird horse skulls? Why is this taking place in a desert? Why is the texture so bad? So many questions. And the effect on the title text is bad.
0/10 YES WE CAN GO LOWER THAN 1
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Hardcover Russian 2010 Edition
This looks like the cover to a Dungeons and Dragons manual. I suppose that’s supposed to be from the Dracchus scene with Denna, but the image doesn’t look quite right for Name of the Wind. It’s just so generic fantasy. I also don’t like how the image is cropped top and bottom to make way for a very generic marble background. Still, the image is colorful and exciting, even if it could be the cover for any fantasy novel ever.
5/10
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Paperback UK 2011 Edition
What the FUCK happened here? Who let this shit happen?
-10/10
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Hardcover Finnish August 2010 Edition
Ooooh, more Miyazaki fanart! This is actually quite lovely, and it fits the tone of the books much better than the kids book cover from before. I love how soft and gentle the painting is. Notice the color balance. I don’t know if this cover really ‘grabs’ you or draws interest, but it’s one of my favorites of the bunch.
10/10
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Paperback Bulgarian October 2010 Edition
I reserve the right to change my opinion later, but this may be the worst contender in the cloaked and hooded figure from behind category. I actually had to double check that this wasn’t a reused image from the mass market paperback edition, but nope! This is a brand new cover image, and it’s absolute shit. The lighting is so dark it’s impossible to make out details, the balance is way off, and the cover and title text are placed over the figure (aka the only object of interest) instead of the boring, generic storm clouds.
0/10
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Hardcover Lithuanian 2011 Edition
YIKES times two. This cover art is truly awful in ways I didn’t know could still happen. Kvothe’s face looks ‘off’ because the facial proportions are all wrong. The blue mystical katana is bizarre because there’s no magical sword, much less a katana, in the story. And is that a photo of Stonehenge in the background? With yet another hooded figure?! I do like the gold foil of the title and the golden dragon embellishment, but the rest of this is such shit.
0/10
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Paperback Serbian February 2011
And we’re back in the safe territory of a cloaked figure staring off at a distant city! All these covers are starting to run together, but this is a new cover art. It just looks like all the others. Once again, it’s fine. The city is a little too distant and greyed out to hold interest, and the figure is kind of generic.
5/10
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Paperback Italian 2008 Edition
I do not know what happened here. Who is this figure supposed to be? I cannot for the life of me figure out which character this is. It’s a shame, because it’s well-done art with a cool character and costume design. The title and author text obscure the image, though, and the shadow on the text is so extreme it’s hilarious.
0/10
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Hardcover Hungarian 2009 Edition
This is just boring. There’s no information conveyed here, nothing interesting or arresting to attract the viewer’s attention. The translucent overlay on the title is an odd choice.
2/10
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Paperback Persian 2016 Edition
I believe this was originally a fanart of Kvothe (correct me if I’m wrong please), but it’s a good one. The tree shadow in the back is distracting and obscures the handle of the lute on his back, though. I wish there was more here – it feels very spare in an unintentional way.
6/10
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Hardcover Georgian 2016 Edition
Cloaked and hooded figure staring off into the distance, check. I’m not crazy about this one – the art is very soft in a blurred kind of way, and it reads as a little humdrum. The tower in the distance is quite dull – it looks like a modern office building.
4/10
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Hardcover Italian October 2016 Edition
The title text is a little too high – I don’t like how it covers the figure’s chin. It’s not a bad idea to make Kvothe’s green eyes a focal point, and it’s certainly more of an original idea than most of these covers have shown. But the muted color pallete drags the whole mood down. It’s not evocative, just kind of damp.
5/10
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Hardcover 10th Anniversary French November 2019
I LOVE this cover. It’s gorgeous. I love the gold foil, love the text, love the clouds. It’s stunning and timeless. Amazing.
10/10
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Hardcover Latvian October 2013 Edition
It’s a cloaked figure with a city in the distance, but he’s NOT looking at the city! What!! I’m rather surprised at how few covers feature Kvothe actually playing the lute – this may be the only one, actually. I don’t like the bottom fade, and I think the design is a little generic fantasy. But it’s a nice balance, and the title text is fancy and eye-catching.
7/10
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Paperback Polish 2017 Edition
This cover artist also clearly wasn’t working off an excerpt from the book. The character design is so off and unlike Kvothe, except for the cloak. Wall texture looks like a photo manipulation, which is cheap. This whole thing is bad.
0/10
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Hardcover Russian 2015 Edition
What is with the Stonehenge imagery? And why is that guy floating off of Stonehenge in a modern hoodie? Why is that one leaf in the top right so huge? Why is the title text red and difficult to read? At least there’s a broken lute, I guess.
1/10
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Paperback Chinese May 2012 Edition
This is incredibly lazy and the photoshop job is terrible and generic. Zero effort was put into this cover.
0/10
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Hardcover Russian 2011 Edition
I’ve been pretty harsh on Russia, mostly because the Russian covers have been terrible. This is ok-ish. It’s very generic fantasy, and the castle looks like Hogwarts. But it has visual interest, even if the title text color is garish.
2/10
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Japanese 2017 Edition
I quite love that they turned Kvothe into an anime character. And he’s doing stuff, too, and not just staring out into the middle distance. There’s so much imagery of the broken lute in these covers, so it’s refreshing to see the other part of this scene – when Kvothe loses his shit and finally calls the name of the wind. Fun cover, good artwork. The red title text works here because it matches Kvothe’s hair.
9/10
WORST:
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47 notes · View notes
kierongillen · 5 years
Text
Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine 44
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Spoilers, obv.
I'm aware that this is either going to be a relatively short one or an epic one. The risk of the latter is that rather than just talking about the issue, for the first time I'm free to talk about the series as a whole, and so talk about some of those other choices. There'll be some of that, but it would warp the nature of the notes, and give some false perspective. I can talk about it being over now, sure, but talking about it all means I'm not talking about this element. Not least because I can't talk about it all – there's still the question of issue 45.
But still. There's a lot to talk about, and a lot of hard things in here to do. We knew where we going, but the devil is in the details. The devil's everywhere.
Jamie/Matt's Cover
Minerva finally gets her head-shot. I was a little worried that people would realise exactly what was happening to Minerva here, but I didn't see anyone realise she's falling, and speculate why. Of course, I knew what it was and couldn't not see it. That's how it works.
It's a striking last image though – this is an especially blank glance, in the middle of all the motion. Matt's pink/white nimbus is really powerful too.
Emma Rios/Miquel Muerto
Emma's one of our favourite artists, and we were so glad that we managed to get her before the end. Emma's always someone who gets this evocative drama of it all – this is obviously a momentous cover, but you don't know the moment until reading. Laura and Lucifer being a core relationship, and the hint of leaving. Miquel does strong, atmospheric things with the colours as well. It's a great cover to end the story on. On - Pretty Deadly is back on the same day as 45, and I can't wait. Gets!
IFC
In terms of minor things we did which have a big emotional effect, changing the gods' names to their human names was certainly one. It sits there and stings.
Page 1
This issue is particularly tightly wound, so we set the clock on the issue in this one page.
I had a couple of people wonder where the cops came from. I presume it's because the delay in publication – the "we have to go now because of woden's tape has revealed we're almost all complicit" is the only reason why they went for Minerva immediately.
For a page that's so tightly wound, Jamie does some great establishing here. Opening panel with the fire in top of Valhalla, to link to last issue. A shot with all these people in it – a character beat, and three extremely dialogue low panels.
Page 2
Riff on Better The Devil You Know.
The weird rhythm in WicDiv is the arcs-which-take-place-in-a-very-short-time and arcs-which-take-place-over-months.  Faust act, Rising Action, Imperial Phase II, "Okay" are the over-a-short time. Fandemonium, Commercial Suicide, Imperial Phase I and Mothering Invention are the extended ones. The closest to one which does both is Faust Act, which spreads its action over a week or two.
Page 3
Lovely stuff in here with Jamie, in terms of character work – obviously this is Lucifer hamming it up, but seeing individual responses around the room is a hell of a thing. Minerva's a total mess here.
Valentine giving up clever insults at this point is probably a thing.
Page 4-5 "Bothersome" is a very Lucifer word. The expression in panel 2 is also key Lucifer – that eye-roll of it.
Laura's captions also arrive mid way through – key, as they're clearly going to be key. I was thinking of having them at the start of page 3 as well, but we can let us live in the moment.
Laura's performance tentacles is a lovely panel – seeing how Matt works the colours on the space. The blues fading to white, the reds. Honestly, this is making me miss working with Matt already, and seeing how good he and Jamie are together.
Callbacks here to Lucifer in the first arc – the cycle of it all.
"There were two girls in hell" makes me well up. |It's one of my favourite Jamie expressions in the issue.
Page 6-7
When planning the larger structure of WicDiv, I was aware that I made certain calls in hope I would be able to save people. The early "death" of the Heads was actually a way to protect them. I was aware that characters who were in play were far more likely to die, as they had more chances to do so. I knew I could likely save the heads, so by making them heads, I made it more likely.
I originally planned for Dionysus to die, but I couldn't bear it. His hubris was real, but the idea that someone could give so much without anyone really caring or doing something for him was too heart breaking, even for me. I realised during Rising Action that I could actually save him – the pieces were already in play, and I just had to lean into those relationships to lead to Baph's choices. At the start, I wasn't sure where Baphomet ended in year 4 – part of me thought he'd survive, as I didn't have that final beat for him at the start. That I didn't have a hard end for Baphomet always made him open to the story finding another purpose for him – which is an end which I can't imagine any other way now. WicDiv is an awful necessary machine.
That applied to Lucifer too. She was a darling, obviously, but she was always going to be trouble. Part of me was aware that she could come back and almost immediately get killed again. I'd like her to make it out, but it was possible she wouldn't.
So, as I said last time, when I realised she was the final opposition I was pleased – that was perfect to the themes and the structure.
I wrote in my synopsis that Laura uses a performance to touch Lucifer and convince her into renouncing her godhood, and left it at that.
There it sat until I came to script it.
Because, in all honesty, I had no idea how Laura was going to convince Lucifer to give up her godhood. I just trusted that there would be some way Laura could reach her. Or, really, I hoped there was – because I knew if I wrote something that didn't feel convincing to me, I wouldn't do the scene. Lucifer would have died instead.
So, the day came when I was scripting this sequence, and I started writing, and wondered what the performance would be, and I just wrote "Laura descends the Ananke head sequence and drags Luci back."
Then I leaned back, a little shocked, because that was clearly right, and so clearly fit with what the series does – a final deconstruction of one of our core visual icons, giving a new way to look at the sequence and think about it. It was just there. As if it was there all along. Or just the sort of thought that emerges when you've been obsessed over this fucking thing for five years.
I'm aware of the weird resonance as well – Laura's finding a performance to save a friend is me finding a performance to save a character. WicDiv was a weird book.
Jamie and Matt go to town, of course – the melting faces are just painful, and wonderfully done. The fleshy reds, the fires. How Clayton uses the captions across the page to play with pacing...
I originally suggested we do it completely as the WicDiv spread, with Laura crawling across the centre spread and making her way up – that it would be treating what is meant to be two columns as a space was decided to be too much, so instead we went with flipping to a subjective perspective on a space that we've only experienced from a single objective outside viewpoint. That's got magic too.
Page 8
A long time to get to this kiss, right?
We moved the dialogue around a little to nail some moments – we had the magic effect on the final panel so the transition to the next page wasn't too much.
The annoyance of Eleanor in the last panel is just my everything. I described it to Jamie by using a metaphor of me in my early thirties, having split up with an Ex, and torn between various places, including seriously wondering whether, after everything, the simple answer to my sexuality stuff was that I was just gay. How annoyed I would have been, after all those years, if it was that. Just a "Oh, FFS. I'm just gay! Why didn't I get that earlier? Why have I wasted all this time? What a fucking fool I am."
That.
Page 9
Repeat of core WicDivian imagery, turned to a different purpose. After these magificent godly reveals, we do this very normal world.
Yeah. This would have been a happy place to end the series.
Page 10
Laura wants to be better, of course. It's easy to say you want to do better.
A+ Cassandra-ing in the background there.
Page 11
Now, Minerva is dead in a few pages time, and she is a genuine monster, trapped in a system of her own making. But I didn't want to send her into the void thinking she had that horror awaiting her. I can't forgive her, but I can give her a little peace.
Title drop, of course, with a wonderful expression by Jamie. There's a lot here.
Okay, let's do this.
"Okay" is a phrase that's haunted WicDiv. We've come back to it multiple times – it's a fascinating word in the English language, and has caused problems for people translating it, in the mixture of ambivalence and optimism in it is really tricky. Clearly, we use everything inside the word.
It wasn't my Dad's last words, but it's the last exchange I remember with him. Everyone else was out, and I was helping him back to his seat. He says to me.
"Son, I know this is strange, but I can't help but think it's going to be okay."
And I can almost imagine my eyes bulging out of my head, as I wanted to howl at him: no, Dad. It really fucking isn't.
This comes up almost verbatim in the first arc, with the exchange between Laura and Lucifer before she breaks out. The series is about many things, but my Father's death was the core inspiration for it, and that "It's going to be okay" haunted me and it.
I don't think this is what my Dad meant, clearly, but it's how I've ended up metabolising it. I've been signing "It's going to be okay" when I sign Faust Acts, partially as it's the WicDiv phrase, partially as a secret-promise-that-they-won't-all-die-and-there-is-hope and partially because "When death comes, it's okay" is that buried in it. If I had to boil the book down to a sentence, it'd be it. It means different things depending how you look at it. That's all I've got.
Page 12
I talk about Solving The Equation of the third year, and Dio being in play for this section is absolutely part of it.
That first panel. I said that the cast were all people I'd have killed to be at various stages of my life. Umar is someone I try to be now. I don't succeed, but he's a worthy goal. Kind is not soft and all that.
While the silent panel is something you've all seen before, it's worth highlighting how good Jamie is. The favourite gesture of the scene is the eyes upwards of Cassandra – I don’t remember Jamie using this angle before, and it's really striking. I suddenly miss that I won't be working with Jamie again for a while. Have fun, Jamie. You were the best.
And now, this.
Page 13-14-15
"It would take a real monster to kill a kid" is one of those lines that have been sitting in the files since the beginning.
There was a fan artist in the WicDiv community early on who kept on doing these totally charming portraits of Baal and Minerva playing around in a big brother and little sister way. Every time I saw them, I felt both love for the art, and a sadness. "In four years time, you are going to have a terrible day."
That's one of the weirdest things of the last four years – that. Knowing that stuff is out there.
Looking at this at a little distance, I see the elements in – the standing on the edge, the "Please Don't" and all that. I sigh. This is awful and upsetting and that page turn is one of the hardest in the series. I wish Valentine would forgive himself, but he couldn't.
This is the sort of thing I want to write a lot about, and want to write nothing. I think I'll keep it as just the facts, in terms of trying to plot this.
Occasionally you get to a knot – I knew Valentine had to kill Minerva, that Valentine couldn't bear to live after that was done and that Minerva had to die after Baal gave up his powers. How to you put those three together, without introducing something else.
C asked "Where does it happen? Could it happen somewhere high?" and the rest was there. Falling being the repeating WicDiv image as well.
I think I pictures this actually side on, without the drop. Jamie's choice is better, just because of the eyes.
The three panels is something we're returned too, but choosing the distance was key. You know it's there, but I didn't want to revel in the dead bodies. This is a different kind of death to many of the ones in the book, and has to be treated as such. Any more blood than shows they're dead would be obscene.
I sigh again. I note that Matt does the lights on the guns perfectly, but I want to highlight craft. The shot of eveyrone waiting is a huge thing – Inanna's grief, Dio stepping in, and the crossed arms of Cassandra...
16
I think it was when I was plotting the second year at WicDiv that I realised that I couldn't see a way out of this which didn't involve the majority of the cast ending up in jail for a while. I was okay with that, as it made some sense. It's thematically resonant for a few ways – it's a choice which shows their acceptance of their acts, and their actual humanity as well as an understanding of their power, and lots more.
However, due to all the straight, white characters being dead, it does mean that a all-queer all-PoC-minus-Lucifer cast going to jail, in the current jail system. That said, while far from perfect, the UK is not the US. I don't think I could have written this ending in the US. Even in the UK, I safety-proof it conceptually as much as I can.
They are all queer, and almost all PoC... but they are also superhumans (and mostly rich.) They have a degree of power, and options which are not open to other people... and it is their one chance to try and navigate this space with no-one else (either them or other humans) getting killed. It's their last chance to act in good faith to the rest of the species.
I wouldn't trust the system if they were people without their resources. They're not. And this is the least-worst choice I can see.
I'm sure some of you will disagree with me on that.
17
More safety-proofing – Voluntuaryism is an anarchist idea. "The only true order is voluntary order" basically.
18-19-20
This is a lot of space for a sequence which is relatively minor dramatic weight, but as we segue towards the end, we want it to breathe a little. Plus there's the matter of the page turns – the previous interstitial was about pushing that as well, so both the "surrender" and Laura's final headshot are on a turn.
Matt's lighting in this sequence is wonderful – I said to Jamie that I was thinking of almost suggesting we're changing genre before Laura steps in. It's a "The special forces go after Batman" sort of sequence. I was thinking of the one from Batman: Year Zero, which is some top class special forces entering darkened environments.
Another moment of the weird-colouring-in-a-balloon, and the actually living in the moment.
Taking the guns is more safety-proofing, showing they are not acting in blind faith of the system. That Laura can take the guns also shows that Laura likely could walk out of prison any time she wants, and the rest will be able to do the same too.
(Not that the people in power know they don't presently have access to their big ones, of course.)
We originally has Cass shouting that final line, but had it much more matter of fact. This is kind of past shouting.
21-22
Yeah, this is calling back all manner of stuff. Back to the courtroom.
Jamie asked me a lot about the final expression, as is only right. This is a story where we've used head shots a lot, normally with pose. This is something else.
23
Worth noting that Laura couldn't be sentenced to life imprisonment. She's 18 so would be sentenced for "custody for life". Not that the story actually says what she's been sentenced to that either – we cut before the sentence is given. Don’t expect a firm answer to that in next issue either.
But they all have been sentenced to life, in the obvious metaphorical way. Laura has been depressed and self-destructive to the point of a death wish throughout. At the end, she's decided to try to live.
I count that as bitter sweet, and I count that as a win. I'm proud of her. I'm proud of them all.
I'm in tears now.
24-28
And we were when compiling the letters page. Thanks you lot.
29
Jamie and I both had really intense feelings about the final cover. It's clear why we've kept it secret (it gives away Laura survives) but to see this young woman we've been writing about older was incredibly moving.
Laura was 20 years younger than me at the start of WicDiv, and she's 20 years older than me at the end. Feeling suspended between the two poles, identically. The duality of it, one more time.
I love this cover so much, and I loved these characters, this book, you lot.
Thanks for reading.
190 notes · View notes
gumnut-logic · 4 years
Text
We’ll Be Home For Christmas 3.1
Title: We’ll be home for Christmas
Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew – Part 1 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3
Author: Gumnut
23 - 27 Dec 2019
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.
Word count: 3823
Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.
Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.
Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.
Please note that I am not a scientist, only an artist with mad librarian skillz. I may have stretched a few facts in places here, for which I apologise, though I did research a hell of a lot to get this written (at one point I was only writing one or two lines before I had to research another fact…it was a very long process). I hope you enjoy it anyway. :D
Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.
Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
-o-o-o-
 Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew
 When Virgil woke late the next morning, the yacht was already in motion. He sighed as he crawled out of bed, body groaning the entire way.
Stumbling into the living area, he didn’t even have to look for the coffee. John simply met him halfway and handed him a mug.
He inhaled it. The hot beverage ran down his throat and within minutes his brain was beginning to boot.
A hand landed on John’s shoulder in honest gratitude. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Okay, so that grin was a little smug, but the coffee was worth it. That and it was a novelty to have John for breakfast at any time. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder, blaming not enough caffeine for the sudden soppy.
His brother frowned at him. “How are you feeling?”
Okay, that fixed the soppy. He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”
The frown turned into a smirk. “Sure. Would you like some eggs? I hid the last of the bacon from Alan, so there is some if you like.”
The soppy returned. You’d think he was on drugs or something. Must be the sea air. “Thanks, John.”
His brother peered at him a little more before ushering him to sit down and busying himself in the kitchenette. It wasn’t long before the tantalising smell of bacon sizzling wafted through the living area.
“Hey! I thought we were out of bacon!” Alan was not impressed as he strode in, game console in hand. “You lied to me!”
John snorted as he placed the plate full of bacon and eggs in front of Virgil along with a glass of orange juice. “So, you would have eaten Virgil’s share?” The arched eyebrow was challenging.
“Nooo.”
“Sure, Alan.” John turned around and walked back into the kitchen obviously not believing his brother.
Alan sat down across from Virgil. “I wouldn’t, honest, Virg.”
Perhaps his littlest brother’s brain was not connected to his hand because Virgil had to slap it away from his plate almost immediately. “Sure, Alan.”
The bacon was good and the eggs just right. Mouth full, “John, this is divine.”
The snort from the kitchenette was loud, but the only comment he received in reply.
Virgil slapped Alan’s hand away again and glared at him. “So, who’s winning the game.”
Alan was immediately distracted. “I was, but then John pulled a stunt with a rogue asteroid, which I’m not entirely sure was legal...” His voice rose specifically in the direction of the kitchenette.
“Game allowed it.”
“Yeah, well, I PM’d the developers and they knew nothing about it!”
“Gregory never remembers what he programs. The guy does it in his sleep half the time.”
“Hah! Grez is totally cool. He said you’re a stick in the mud.”
John wandered back into the room wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Gregory is also a card-carrying member of the Flat Earth society.”
A snort from Alan. “So?”
“The man has been to space, Al. He designs video games, set in space. Explain the logic behind that?”
“Denial? Imagination? A little too much college night life?”
John threw the towel back into the kitchen. “All of the above. So, yeah, game allows it, it’s legal.”
“Well, I’m gonna whip your ass in the void between galaxies. Gonna stoke my ship with engines only you can dream of.”
Taking a seat at the end of the table, John did not appear concerned in the slightest. “Hey, Virgil, would you like to assist me in developing a fictional intergalactic drive.”
An arched eyebrow as he munched on bacon and glanced between the two of them. “Hmmm, sure.”
“Hey! No fair. No engineering brothers allowed. If you get Virgil, I get Brains.”
John grinned. “Go for it. International Rescue could do with one of those.”
Virgil snorted. He loved Brains like a brother, but the man did not know the difference between reality and fiction. Postulate an idea such as this, give him a few hours and he’d have a working theory. Let him go, and he’d build it. The game would be forgotten the moment Alan mentioned the concept.
“You suck.”
“Just using the tools at hand, Alan.”
Virgil blinked. “You just called me a tool.”
John shrugged and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a string of profanity from their captain up on the bridge. The boat suddenly accelerated, swerving to port, and Virgil had to grab the remains of his breakfast as it tried to slide off the table.
A frowning Scott strode through the room. A worried glance at Virgil and John, he took the most direct route towards the bridge and disappeared. Alan dropped his console onto the lounge and darted after him.
At higher speeds, the boat began to bounce off the wave peaks. Virgil decided that staying put was probably in his best interests and apparently John agreed as he reached out and gently grabbed Virgil’s arm.
“I’m okay.”
“Just making sure.”
He didn’t bother responding to that.
Wherever the boat was going, apparently it got there quickly because it wasn’t at full acceleration for long and it slowed quickly to a stop, her hull wallowing in the water at the sudden lack of forward momentum.
As Virgil pushed himself to his feet, he glared at the hand wrapped around his bicep. John didn’t let go.
“If you fall on your face on my watch, Scott will kill me.”
“I’m fine.”
His brother still didn’t let go. This was ridiculous.
But apparently smother was in the Tracy genetic code, because John held onto him the entire way up to the bridge. Only to find it locked down and empty.
All three brothers were out on the bow of the boat.
He could hear Gordon swearing from here. What the hell had his brother all riled up?
It took his slow way onto the bow - those steps still hurt, damn it - for him to find out.
“It’s caught in her mouth. Goddamnit!”
“Hey, hey, Gordon. We can help her. Tell us what we need to do.” Scott’s voice was tense. Virgil read it clearly as pissed, but needing to calm a brother and fix a problem before blowing a circuit.
What the hell had happened?
“Gordon?”
His fish brother shot distraught eyes in his direction. “We’ve got a humpback calf caught in a gill net. A fucking illegal gill net. Here. I’m gonna string the bastards up and Mel is gonna skin them alive!”
Gordon stormed past Virgil and John, heading towards the back of the boat, thumbing his comms. “Mel, you got your ears on?”
Virgil turned to look out across the surface of the ocean and sure enough a single dark buoy appeared just off to port about fifty metres away. To his horror there was a weak whale spout just as his eyes focussed on the spot.
Scott strode past and gently clasped his shoulder, his eyes bleak before following Gordon aft. Alan hurried after him.
A glance at John found his brother’s professional facade well in place. Gordon could be heard yelling over his comms from the other end of the boat.
The whale breached again.
Shit.
-o-o-o-
Scott followed his little brother as he stormed down the length of his yacht.
“Mel, what the hell do you mean this isn’t the first time.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Gordon, I’m as angry as you, but these assholes know what they are doing. I’ve had the coast guard out here sixteen times in the last year and they haven’t managed to catch one of them. We’ve lost turtles, sunfish, rays and earlier in the season a humpback died of its injuries. We can’t locate the nets. They don’t appear on our scanners.”
“Well, they appear on mine and I’m not putting up with this crap.”
“Any help is appreciated, Gordon. If I knew you’d be able to detect them, I would have called you in earlier. If you can give us the locations, it would be much appreciated.”
“I’ll get John on it immediately. In the meantime, we have an injured calf and a distressed mother to attend to.”
“Do you want me down there?”
His brother paused a moment and dragged in a calming breath. “I’ll do an assessment. If I need help, I’ll call Kayo to come get you.”
“Keep me in the loop, Thunderfish. Play it safe. Mamma Humpback is going to be anxious.” A pause. “Sorry your vacation has been interrupted.”
“Screw my vacation. We’re gonna get these bastards.” Scott didn’t think he had ever seen his brother so angry. It was understandable. “Speak to you soon. A Little Lightning out.”
Gordon immediately turned to Scott. “We have a situation.”
Scott let his head drop just a little in acknowledgment. “Yes, we do. This is yours, Thunderbird Four. Tell me what you need.”
-o-o-o-
With the power of TB5 they discovered an intricate network of netting just to the west of the Kermadecs, trailing intermittently down their full length. To regular sensors they were invisible, but to IR sensors they were a flicker. A flicker John was able to focus on and bring up a clear picture.
Gordon, now dressed in his IR uniform, swore a bluestreak at how many nets were actually out there. John put him through to WASP Command and Gordon gave a very colourful report to the regional commander, who just happened to be a former squad mate of his. Her response was more formal, but no less colourful.
With tight expressions, Gordon, Scott and Alan climbed into the inflatable dingy and rowed their way out to the beleaguered cetacean. Gordon used the effort to push his anger into the oars. He couldn’t afford to have his thoughts clouded by the bastards who had done this.
Sensors told him the calf had a net caught in its mouth and wrapped around its right pectoral fin. The fine mesh hung down its left side, dangling into the depths where it had caught on a snag. The chances of it catching right there were ridiculously small, the waters so deep between the islands. But the net was hundreds of metres long, weighted, and, even tangled, it reached down far enough to snag itself on a submerged pile of rock.
Hell, he was going to need Four to get down that deep to get the net out of the water.
If the calf had been snagged while diving, she wouldn’t have been able to surface to breathe and would have drowned.
Bastards!
Scott darted a glance at Gordon. The aquanaut held his gaze. His eldest brother was dressed in an IR wetsuit. It was startling to see him out of his familiar uniform. Gone was his flight baldric and in its place, yellow slashed across his blue, visibility more the priority underwater. The only concessions to his commander rank were his shoulder patches and twin silver-grey bands on that yellow baldric. Alan was dressed similarly, but where Scott sported silver, Alan sported red. Neither had their helmets on.
Gordon had only mentioned the suits to Scott when preparing for this venture because he had hoped to enjoy some recreational diving. Their suits were far above average equipment, so why not use the best to have a little fun?
Scott had rolled his eyes, but five wetsuits had been thrown into their luggage. They had supposed to be used for sharing his world with his brothers.
Gordon swore under his breath again and tugged at the oars angrily.
��We’ll fix this.” Scott’s voice was calm, ever the commander when on duty. And on duty they were.
When he got his hands on those assholes...
“A Little Lightning to Inflatable. Mother Humpback is on the move towards you.” John had been tracking her frantic circles around her calf.
Gordon dropped the oars and grabbed his scanner. Sure enough, the worried behemoth was angling in towards them. She posed a serious threat despite their benign intentions.
“Roger that, A Little Lightning.”
The inflatable stilled in the water, three pairs of eyes stared out across the surface.
“Be quiet. Here she comes.”
Not twenty metres away, the mother surfaced, her spout spraying them all with angry water. Her huge mass coasted just under the surface and beelined to her daughter.
Gordon’s heart lurched at the distressed groans she made as she nuzzled her trapped calf.
“I’m going in.” He shoved his helmet on.
Scott caught his arm. “Are you sure that is wise?”
He caught his brother’s worried eyes. “You are just going to have to trust me. I know what I am doing.”
A bitten lip, but Scott nodded once and let him go.
Gordon slipped quietly over the edge of the inflatable and into the water.
-o-o-o-
Virgil stood on the bridge of A Little Lightning and swallowed hard. It was frustrating to be caught unable to do anything, but in this kind of situation, it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.
Usually, though, he was hovering in Two far above the surface.
John stood beside him, a mission hologram projecting from his tablet, his hands playing the portable controls as smoothly as Virgil played his piano. Eos spoke up quietly, relaying reports from WASP as the organisation swooped in on the illegal fishing organisation somewhere off to the west. His brothers’ vitals danced in one corner, the readout from the sensors and the now deployed sensor buoy hung beside them.
Virgil could only watch.
“Gordon, approach with extreme care. The mother is emitting infrasound, beyond our hearing. She is very distressed.” John’s voice was sharp, but calm as the sensors traced the sound pattern in the air before him.
Whispered. “FAB, John. I can feel it. She may be calling for help. Silence on comms.”
And Virgil realised he could feel it, too. A rumble in his bones, a wail so deep it could only be felt, not heard.
He closed his eyes.
He felt her shift octaves, the sound pulsing, her thrum desperate. It vibrated at the edge of his sensory perception, slipping in and out, barely felt in his body tissues, his fingertips, the sensitive incisions in his gut.
“Virgil? You okay?”
John’s soft voice startled him, throwing him out of focus. “What?”
He received a copper frown for his efforts. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine.”
Green eyes narrowed, but his brother didn’t comment further. He returned to his holograms, bringing up a satellite lifesign read of the area.
“We’re receiving a reply.” John frowned. “Another. Several. Locating sources. Eos, give me a narrow frequency band and pinpoint.” The AI didn’t answer but several dots appeared on the satellite view. John waved a hand and zoomed in on a cluster in the Southern Ocean. The view focussed and cleared and Virgil was again amazed at Brains’ skill as the surface of the ocean appeared and a pod of whales was defined. They were all travelling in a south-easterly direction.
Over two thousand kilometres from the mother and calf. John zoomed out again and scanned for a closer answer. He found one but it was still fifteen hundred kilometres distant. Far too far away to return to help the distraught mother.
But then another signal came in, this one only three hundred kilometres away to the south-east. John narrowed in on the location, only to find another mother and calf.
“Is that the mother and calf we encountered two days ago?” The subjects of his painting.
“More than likely. Gordon did say it was very late in the season. The humpback whales migrate from tropical waters north-west to south-east across the Kermadec Ridge on their way to feeding grounds near Antarctica during spring. That places the nets in the optimal position to do the most damage.”
Virgil stared at the kilometres of lines denoting the position of so many illegal fishing nets.”
“Do you think WASP will be able to stop this?” His voice came out parched and cold, an echo of the anger building inside.
“They will do their best. Gordon won’t rest, you know that. I’ve also asked Penny to investigate. This impinges on Tracy Industries’ ecological interests so I have contacted the board.” His lips thinned. “We will find those responsible.”
The lines taunted him. How many? How many lives had been taken moments before sanctuary?
“Virgil?”
The mother shifted octaves again and he found himself closing his eyes.
A hand landed on his arm. Soft. “Virgil?”
He startled. John’s turquoise eyes were frowning at him again.
“She’s terrified.”
“Gordon will free her calf.”
“She doesn’t know that.”
Her thrum was in his bones, vibrating his very soul.
And then the calf cried out.
-o-o-o-
Gordon had always felt small beside his brothers, but floating next to a leviathan of the open ocean there was no comparison.
The mother humpback was nuzzling her calf, a mixture of chirps and groans vibrated through the water accompanied by the modulating infrasound, screaming fear across the Pacific.
Knowledge of cetaceans scrolled through Gordon’s mind, but instinct was yelling at him.
Never get between a mother and her baby.
But the baby was in pain and her mother was unable to help her.
He could.
He edged closer, ever quiet, calm.
Mamma shifted in his direction, her great head swinging around and tossing him about in the resultant wake. Gordon caught himself and took the opportunity to slip in even closer.
C’mon, beautiful, I don’t mean you any harm. I’m here to help.
He reached out and touched the calf’s flank.
The calf shifted away, crying out and her mother propelled herself forward towards Gordon.
He darted backwards, holding up a hand. “Hey, hey, I’m here to help.” She couldn’t understand the words, but perhaps the intent?
A groan wrapped around him, followed by a click.
“Gordon!” Scott’s voice echoed about his helmet.
And into the water around him.
Shit.
He scrambled backwards as Mamma reacted. Surging forward she nudged him hard enough to force him to the surface. “Woah!” He got a brief glimpse of Scott gesticulating at him from the inflatable, obviously agitated and then everything was bubbles.
He lost orientation for a moment and just settled for swimming away from the chaos.
“Goddamnit, Gordon, answer me!”
“Shut up, Scott. I’ve got this! Silence on comms!”
He dove.
Deep.
He relied on his suit to keep his body pressure static as he propelled himself fifty metres straight down.
Sunlight flickered turquoise and disappeared into the depths.
Mamma didn’t follow.
Gordon hovered there a moment, looking up at the silhouettes of the two whales and the dingy far above. Mamma returned to nuzzling her calf, her pectoral fins churning the water into bubbles with the smallest movements.
Okay, Gords, you’ve got this. Gentle, calm and persistent.
He began his ascent.
-o-o-o-
Virgil tensed as his brother was thrown from the water only to disappear and dive down deep.
Gordon’s snarl across comms at Scott was acid.
The mother’s call shifted an octave to the point Virgil could almost hear the clear C, F, and G notes hanging in the air.
Three hundred kilometres away, the second mother and calf answered and turned around.
Virgil stared at the dots on John’s map as they slowly began moving towards them. It would take them a good chunk of the day and night to reach the distressed calf, but the other mother was answering the call.
John’s monitor sketched out the answer, far below human hearing and far too distant to be felt.
A complicated, pulsating aria of sound.
It wove around the mother’s distress call, each note dancing with its partner, an answer in form as well as content.
Staring at the readout, he found himself humming the notes, switching cadence, following the thread.
The rumble in his throat spoke counterpoint to the song in his bones. It completed. It felt...reassuring.
“Virgil?”
“What?!” He blinked. Shocked at his own outburst as John took a step back, Virgil drew in a shaky breath. “Sorry.”
John’s voice was quiet. “What is it?”
Virgil stared at his brother, then back at the sensor buoy’s holographic display showing Gordon swimming up the water column. “Can we transmit sound into the water?”
It was John’s turn to blink. “Of course.”
“At infrasound levels?”
John pulled up the buoy’s specs and Virgil knew the answer before his brother could vocalise it.
“Wait there.”
He had an idea.
-o-o-o-
The sight of the abrasions on the side of the calf’s mouth physically hurt Gordon. He swam up slowly beside the calf on the other side from its mother. He kept quiet but made sure the calf knew he was there.
It edged closer to its mother.
“Hey, beautiful. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She whined, her sonics vibrating through him.
Mamma growled in the way only a mamma whale could and, blowing spray up into the air, drew in breath and dove.
She slipped below her daughter and targeted Gordon.
Oh shit.
He flung himself to the left and down. He could manoeuvre easily around her, but...
...her tail swung and he was caught in a rush of wake, bubbles and the need to avoid the whacking she was trying to give him.
“Okay, I get the message. But Mom, you’re going to have to back off or your baby is going to die.” The calf could last only so long before exhaustion and predators put an end to her struggles.
Mamma swam around in a tight circle and for a moment one of her great eyes caught his, her intelligence and fear glaring at him through the turquoise light.
His external mic picked up a single note.
What?
The note shifted and became more of a wail, cut off and was silent.
Mamma whale was still staring at him.
Another note. Again it was modulated, but this time his brother’s voice accompanied it, Virgil’s raw baritone holding the note for a few seconds before shifting down his range to another note. His keyboard, for there was no doubt that Virgil had his keyboard with him, emitted a series of low moans.
Gordon shivered.
His brother was playing infrasonic, he could feel it, no doubt using the transmitter on the buoy.
Mamma was still staring at him.
He could give his brother all the points for effort, but there had yet to be a case where humans could communicate with whales. Many had tried. Most were ignored. The most success had been achieved with touch, which is what Gordon was attempting to do.
If he could get close enough without having his head handed to him.
Virgil shifted from single notes to a more complex weaving of sounds, combining his voice with the keyboard in a way he had never quite heard from his brother.
Mamma blinked.
Clicked three times.
And let off a wail of sound that tore at his heart.
Virgil answered.
-o-o-o-
End Day Three, Part One
Day Three, Part Two
30 notes · View notes
hiiggsmonaghan · 4 years
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Are you fuckin’ kidding me--?
Alright, I’ll answer them ALL. 
1. Name: Higgs Monaghan Silver/Silvio
2. Nationality: Canadian/Acadian
3. Age: 22
4. Birthday: July 19th 
5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign): Cancer
6. Gender: cis male
7. Sexuality: Gay
8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself):  This will have to wait until a special reveal. (Future cosplay things.)
9. What do you/did you study?: ... Does Egyptian history count?
10. What's your current job like?/What job would you like to have?: [Nervous laughter] I have no idea what I’d like to do for a job. 
-
11. Your birth order: First child
12. How many siblings do you have?: 1 “real” sibling, but so many siblings by bond.
13. Do you have good relations with your family?: Biological family? Absolutely not. Except for two of my cousins. They are cool.
14. How many friends do you have?: Too many that it’s obnoxious. [Just kidding, I appreciate you all.]
15. Your relationship status: Taken/Engaged
16. What do you look for in a SO?: Someone who can kick my ass. [Who can handle my anger outbursts]
17. Do you have a crush?: No. 
18. When did you have your first kiss?: When I was 14. It was forced and was a terrible experience. 
19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?: Meaningful ones, funny enough.
20. What are your deal breakers?: Overly clingy, too loud, not respectful of my music choices
-
21. How was your day?: Cold. Snowstorm happened today.
22. Favourite food & drink: Pizzas/cheeseburgers || Strawberry slushie with tapioca pearls/orange juice
23. What position do you sleep in?: Fetal position. [Hahahah... ha.]
24. What was your last dream about?: Cannot remember.
25. Your fears: The ocean [drowning], deep forests.. uhh... There are others but I cannot think of it at the moment
26. Your dreams: To be on my goddamn motorcycle, livin’ a good life without my mental illness in the way.
27. Your goals: See above.
28. Any pets?: Not yet! Planin’ to get a black cat soon!
29. What are your hobbies?: Music and readin’
30. Any cool places in your area?: Pfft, no. It’s so fuckin’ boring here.
31. What was your last awkward situation?: I was at Tim Horton’s and there was a baby cryin’ behind me so I looked over at it and played... peek-a-boo with them. It was...weird. But at least the baby shut up. The mother didn’t do shit to make the baby stop cryin’ so.. Great Parenting.
32. What is your last regret?: Well too many to really talk about but I’ll go with the funny route and my last regret was not goin’ to Burger King yesterday and eatin’ salad instead of a burger. 
33. Language/s you can speak: English
34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.): Not really. It’s all just whatever for me.
35. Have any quirks?: I bite my nails often... I pretend to conduct music while it is playing... uh...???
36. Your pet peeves: Everything.
37. Ideal vacation: Anywhere away from North America.
38. Any scars?: Many. 
39. What does your last text message say?: “Nah”
40. Last 5 things from your search history: Twitter, Vargskelethor’s twitch, Cloud Strife, YouTube, FF7 remake release date
41. What's your [device] background?: RK900 from Detroit Become Human
42. What do you daydream about?: Usually having super strength and throwing people whom bother me across the world or just... punchin’ them. 
43. Describe your dream home: A  simple house, really. Nothin’ too fancy. Just the idea of havin’ my own house? Even if it isn’t that big or anythin’... That is a dream for me. Oh, and I want it painted black. Hah.
44. What's your religion/Your thought about religion: I’d say I’m atheist but... I do believe in God. I AM God. :)
45. Your personality type:  ISTP-T
46. The most dangerous thing you've done: [Looks at the list of dangerous things I have done] ... There are too many
47. Are you happy with your current life?: At the moment? Yeah. There are things I am still angry about but it’s... fine.
48. Some things you've tried in your life: Smoking. Drawing. Singing. Writing. Playing the guitar. ???
-
49. What does your wardrobe consist of?: Black and reds. 
50. Favourite colour to wear?: Black.
51. How would you describe your style?: Goth/punk
52. Are you happy with your current looks?: Eh.. Not really but it’s all I got.
53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?: Grow. Damn. Facial. Hair. Holy FUCK.
54. Any tattoos or piercings?: Snake bites. But I took one out so only one lip piercing now. And tattoos? Soon. Very soon. [Gonna be Higgs’ themed, baby.]
55. Do you get complimented often?: No and when I do I make it Stop. I hate it. Never compliment me. 
56. Favourite aesthetic?: Black/gold aesthetics as of late.
57. A popular trend that you dislike: Everything. I hate them all.
- [FINALLY THE ONES I WANTED, JESUS CHRIST]
58. Songs you're currently obsessed with?:  Allesfresser by LINDEMANN 
It’s a great song to listen to for me because I just punch my punching bag to this song. Makes my anger just... go away. It’s fuckin’ nice.
59. Song you normally wouldn't admit you like: .... Let’s Dance by David Bowie
I am a new fan of David Bowie. It just literally started in July or late June. I’m the typical metal head but for some reason Bowie just caught my ear? I dunno, man.
60. Favourite genre?: METAL. Well, Power Metal. I love all sorts of metal except for like.. most death metal/black metal. It is too much for me sometimes. But yeah, if yall are into metal... I’m all ears. I love talkin’ about metal.
61. Favourite artist/band/genre?: Well I already spoke about my favorite genre. For favorite bands? God... Uh.. I have a list here of favorite bands/musicians. Check it out if you’re interested. 
62. Hated popular songs/artists?: Honestly? I’m gonna be one of those guys and say pretty much everything on the radio these days. I don’t like pop/rap and all the most popular stuff. Turning the radio on is ear torture these days. Except for the rock channel, that one is okay most of the time.
63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5:
1 - System of a Down’s Chop Suey in the Style of Ghost by Ten Second Songs
This guy is simply AMAZING. If yall haven’t already, you NEED to check out his channel. He is wicked talented and he has different styles for different songs. Like for example, Metallica’s Enter Sandman in the style of David Bowie. It’s amazing. 
Check him out. His YouTube is Ten Second Songs.
2 - City by Hollywood Undead
This one just gives me my inner Higgs’ vibes. That is really all I can say.
3 - Mein Teil by Rammstein
4 - Cars by Fear Factory
5 -  龍が如く極 - Turning Point [From Yakuza Kiwami]
Yeah, hi. Yakuza fan here. Do I have to say any more? 
64. Can you sing or play any instruments?: I can kind of sing, [very badly, mind you] and sort of play the guitar. I’m tryin’ to learn Come as You Are by Nirvana at the moment... but that’s about it
65. Do you like karaoke?: 
.... Yes. My inner Nishiki in me just cannot lie about this.
66. Own any albums?: Absolutely. I am a firm believer in albums rather than just buying them digitally. I love having an actual copy in my hands rather just on the computer. 
67. Do you listen to radio? What stations?: Not really. I only listen to the rock station.
-
68. Favourite movie/series?: Star Wars.
69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc: Uhhh... I don’t know
70. Your fictional crush/es: Sam Fuckin’ Porter Bridges, General Hux, RK900...
71. Which fictional character is you?: [Chuckles nervously] 
Higgs Monaghan-- 
Too many to write down. I’ll just pass myself the trouble.
72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so: Eh not really. Only like.. Gavin/RK900 [Reed900] and General Hux/Kylo Ren [Kylux/Huxlo]
73. Favourite greek god?: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh? I don’t know?
74. A legend from where you live that you like: None.
75. Do you like art? What's your favourite work or artist?: I’m gonna be cheesy and say all of my friends because it’s true. I love my friends art.
76. Can you share your other social media?: Yeah sure. My twitter is @hiiggsmonaghan
77. Favourite youtubers?: Markiplier, Jacksepticeye... Streamers: Vargskelethor and Vinesauce
78. Favourite platform?: Tumblr and Twitter
79. How much time do you spend on the internet?: .. Too long
80. What video games have you played? Which one's your favourite?: Ones I have PLAYED that are my favorite: Pokemon, Devil May Cry, Final Fantasy XV, Yakuza 0/Kiwami. 
I also have a lot a games I love that I just watched. Like a lot of Legend of Zelda games and of course Death Stranding!
81. Your favourite books (manga also counts): Anything really by William Blake. I guess that really isn’t a “book” but.. all I really read are poems, Shakespearean plays and Egyptian history books.
82. Do you play board/card games?: No
83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema?: No
84. Favourite holiday: Halloween
85. Are you into dramas?: Not really.
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86. Would you use death note, if you had one?: ABSOLUTELY. And I do have one. Well... a replica. Not the real one of course.
87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?: Get rid of the racists, rapists, pedos and homo/trans phobes. The world would just be more pleasant to live in, yeah?
88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse?: Probably. Because I stay inside a lot anyway.
89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be?: A demon because I am that fuckin’ edgy.
90. What would you want to happen to you after your death?: VOID OUT, BITCH. Uh, I don’t know. 
91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?: I did change my name so I am happy with it. 
92. Who would you switch your life with for a week?: Uh.. No one. Can that be an option?
93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo: The devil smiling one I guess?
94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true
1. I am in a poly relationship while I am also engaged.
2. I have a knife collection
3.I still used an mp3 instead of using my phone for music
-
95. Cold or hot?: ... Cold because you can get warm with blankets and sweaters while if you are hot, it’s damn impossible to not be hot.
96. Be a hero or be a villain?: Hero in my eyes, but to all of you I’m the villain for some DAMN reason.
97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?: Sing I guess. Imagine singing in metal. Holy SHIT
98. Shapeshifting or controlling time?: CONTROLLING TIME.
99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?: Immune to everything. I’m sick of being sick.
====
And there you have it. I’m... fuckin’ DONE. This took literal HOURS, ANON. I hope yall read through this.
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shookethbrooketh · 5 years
Text
seven days
day four: part one summary: dan is stuck in the wrong timeline. one day, he kisses phil goodnight. the next morning, he’s completely alone. he doesn’t even recognize where he wakes up, and little details in the world around him have changed. he has no clue what’s happening or where to go next in an effort to fix it; all he knows is that he has to find phil.
genre: sci-fi, a lil bit of angst, happy ending
warnings: just some swearing! 
fic word count: 9.7k chapter word count: 1.2k
written for the @phandomreversebang ! inspired by the awesome moodboard/edits by @maybeformepersonally ! beta’d (beginning to end) by @i-might-just-leave-soon !
phil sighed and pulled out a keyboard that appeared to be full of different buttons and switches. he hit a few buttons, input a code, and readied his hand over the switch. “good luck.”
read it on ao3
Dan’s eyes snapped open as air streamed into his lungs. He exhaled, pushing himself up on the sofa he’d woken up on. “Where the fuck am I?” By now he’d learned--his first order of business in the morning was to search for a phone. “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.” On the nightstand was a flip phone that had to be ten years old. “I’ve got followers younger than this thing.” Dan stared at it for a moment, the events of the previous day coming back to him. “Oh, SHIT!” he shouted, flipping the phone open. Sure enough, the date read October 16, 2009. He groaned, throwing himself back against the side of the couch. “Stupid fucking time machine.” 
Dan took a deep breath and sat up. The clock on the phone read about noon; that was probably about the time he transported back nearly ten years. He had finally gotten at least a few answers; he now had twelve hours to not only convince the Phil of this timeline to listen to him but also to figure out a way to get home, since the last Phil clearly was of no help. Before any of that, though, he had to find Phil. But how? 
As a start, Dan spent a moment taking in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a dingy apartment. It was dark and green tinted; it almost reminded him of the True Lab from Undertale. There was a pang in his chest--what he wouldn’t give to go back to his life with Phil and play RPGs all night. 
He found a pile of clothes that appeared to be relatively clean and put on a t-shirt and jeans. The clothes were much too small for him and were clearly meant for an emo 18-year-old, but clearly that was who was living there. It was 2009, after all. Dan couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor My Chemical Romance fan who just got transported to 2019 in his place.
After he was dressed and looking almost decent despite being completely terrified by the sight of his 28-year-old body in his 18-year-old clothes, he began scourging the flat for a laptop; social media was his only chance of finding Phil, even if it did involve MySpace. 
Ten minutes later, the apartment was somehow more of a mess, he’d found a box of cereal that he was already devouring, and the search for any sort of computer was an absolute bust. Surprisingly, though, he wasn’t discouraged; he’d found Phil in every timeline thus far, so there must have been some way to find him here too. He finished off the cereal straight from the box in joking hope that acting like Phil would help him find Phil, and he was off. 
The apartment door opened straight to a flight of stairs with another door at the bottom. Dan was astonished by what he saw when he opened it. “What the…” The entire room Dan entered into was full of flowers. They were absolutely beautiful, and there were so many of them that Dan could barely find his way through them. Finally, though, he caught sight of a glass door with words written facing away from him. To its right was a counter with a cash register. 
Dan was in a flower shop. 
“What kind of 18-year-old runs a flower shop?” Dan commented into the void before his eye locked onto an ink-coated napkin that seemed to have been slipped under the door. He carefully maneuvered his way to the door, picked up the napkin, and read the words to himself.
“Florist dude,
I don’t know why you’re not open, but I REALLY need some flowers for my boyfriend; it’s our one year anniversary and I wanna do something nice for him. I know peonies are his favorite for some reason, so a bucket--I’m gonna assume they meant bouquet--of those would be great. I hope you see this soon. I’ll be here til five.
-Tattoo artist nextdoor.” 
Dan looked around the room and then back at the note before shrugging. It wasn’t like he had any better ideas. 
He flipped the sign on the door to ‘open’ and went to work arranging a bouquet of peonies. He was lucky there were labels on all the flowers; without them or the Internet, there was no way he could even manage to discern a peony from a carnation. 
Dan found another back room of the flower shop, this one filled with greenery and ribbon rather than living amenities. He didn’t know a thing about organizing flowers, but he did know what was pleasing to the eye. He worked for a few moments to pair colors that looked nice together and add some background green to all the right places before finally tying it all off in a neat, black bow. These were for the partner of a 2009 tattoo artist; he had to assume they liked it a little bit dark. 
He stood back and admired his work; somehow, the arrangement had turned out quite well. “I guess I know what to do if I end up stuck in one of these stupid alternate universes,” he muttered, making his way back to the front of the store. He chuckled for a moment. “I’m literally living in an AU.”
He made his way out to the street and looked left and right before locating the tattoo parlor he was supposed to take the flowers to. “Not just any AU either--I’ve seen all those florist and tattoo artist AUs. What’s the chance of-” He stopped in his tracks as he approached the parlor; on the other side of the glass was a heavily tattooed Phil. He was much younger, but Dan obviously recognized him considering he looked exactly the same as when they met except for the ink covering most of his arms and neck. 
Dan threw himself against the brick wall of the parlor, his breathing heavy. “I’m a florist... and he’s a tattoo artist.”
There was something far too specific about this. It was too obvious, too...familiar. Dan took in a huge breath, and his eyes widened; it was as if he breathed in pure knowledge. “Your timelines are familiar to each other and to you,” he said, repeating what Phil, or, at least, a Phil, had told him the day before. 
“The first day I only had pastel clothes… pastel/punk. The second day I was famous and he was a fan. Yesterday we were both parents. Today…this. Fucking hell, I’m living in tropes.” He scrunched his eyes closed and threw his head against the wall, something he tended to do when under stress. 
After a moment, he straightened his neck out, took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and remembered another phrase Phil had said to him. “If you follow them right, you will find your way home.” 
Dan became immediately aware of the flowers still in his hand. He held them up and made sure they were still perfect, putting on a smile. “Follow the trope.” 
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Sunshine On My Shoulders
bc-melody said: Hey! I was wondering if I could request and angsty Roger x Reader where she gets in to a car accident or something and freaks out? Thanks so much 😘
(a/n: this picture was all i could get to upload on my parent’s shitty wifi geez no wonder i’m always at my apartment. anyways ENJOY THE ANGST)
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He had always promised to protect you. It was one of the first things he’d ever promised you, and one of the few promises that he repeated throughout your relationship.  Roger wanted you to feel safe, to be safe. He didn’t want you in the limelight more than necessary, and he certainly didn’t want you constantly feeling threatened by the pressure of his fame and the big shoes you had to fill as a rockstar’s girlfriend.
‘Sunshine’ was his nickname for you. You loved it – it was because you’d told him your favorite music artist was John Denver. On your one-year anniversary, he bought you a copy of Denver’s Poems, Prayers & Promises, and left a note on it reading ‘for Y/N, my life, my love, my Sunshine. –R.T.       P.S. happy one year’
You played that record until it was practically melted.
It was fitting, though, because you really were his sunshine. You were the center of Roger’s universe, his primary focus. His world revolved around you.
And right now, he was out of orbit, hurtling into the dark abyss of the unknown without you. All it took was one phone call.
It was early in the morning when he got the call. He’d managed to drag himself out of bed and over to the phone, which he picked up right before the last ring. Roger’s hair was a mess, tangled on the side he’d slept on, and his eyes were tired as he stared blearily at the dim light filtering in around the curtains and cleared his throat. “Hello?”
“Is this a Mr. Taylor? First name Roger?” an unfamiliar voice asked, several other muted voices speaking in the background and intermittent beeping playing out.
“Yes, speaking,” he’d mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he went to open the curtains, the cord on the phone stretching to its limits. It was dreary out, a bleak Friday morning, and he’d tried in vain to keep you in bed that morning when you’d woke up to get ready for work. It was foggy, and you had quite a commute just to get to your place of employment. “Who is this?”
“Mr. Taylor, my name is Elizabeth, I’m calling from St George’s, you’re listed as an emergency contact for a Ms. Y/N-“
“Y/N?” he’d asked quickly, interrupting whoever this woman was as all of his muscles tensed up and stars danced across his vision, blurring his sight. If the hospital was calling him, he could only assume the worst. “What…. What’s wrong, what’s going on with Y/N? I just saw her an hour ago when she left for work!”
“Ms. Y/L/N was brought in about half an hour ago, she was involved in a two-car accident near Southcroft and Rectory.”
It was like a punch in the gut for Roger, and he barely heard the next words as he zoned out. Everything in his world was crashing down around him. His Sunshine, in the hospital. The ray of light he’d watched leave the apartment earlier without a kiss goodbye. He’d been too tired to get up and send you off, so all he’d given you was a wave and a grunt that resembled “Bye.”
“God, I’m fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself as he swallowed hard, a lump stubbornly forming in his throat. “Did you say St. George’s?” he asked to clarify, his only goal at the moment being to make it to your side as soon as possible.
“Yes, sir, we can tell you the room number when you get here.” He nodded, even though she obviously couldn’t see him, and hung up without another word.
“My god,” he breathed out, wasting no time in grabbing his coat and keys. It didn’t matter to him that he was in his pajamas, or that he looked like he just caught his death – you were alone, and maybe scared, and that was scary in itself. It really terrified him more than anything, so he went a bit faster than he should have on the way to the hospital, considering the situation.
You were asleep when he got there, and you would have looked peaceful if it hadn’t looked like you’d been through the ringer. Roger’s jaw dropped open in horror as he approached your bed, his hand reaching out. But he retracted it, suddenly scared to hurt you and wake you.
Instead, he scanned your face with his eyes only, tears blurring his vision as he looked over the distorted skin on your face. Bruises and bandaged gashes corrupted your features, making you look almost disturbed as you slept, and you clutched at your thin, cheap blanket with your left hand. Your right hand was in a makeshift cast, elevated on a pillow at your side. Your ankle was also wrapped up and elevated, and you appeared to have bandaging peeking up over the collar of the flimsy hospital gown you currently wore.
Words tried to form themselves on his tongue, but found no traction and died in his mouth. So he just stared, openmouthed, for what seemed like an eternity. Nurses came in and out of the room, but he did not acknowledge them. He just sat next to your bed, watching you listlessly.
The woman laying on the bed was unfamiliar, a feeble copy of the wonderful woman he called his girlfriend. The shell of a human he saw laying there was a far cry from the character he’d seen when he first met you.
It was like the first time seeing a rainbow when he’d met you. Everything was so dull, discolored, and then suddenly you were there. Your smile brightened the room, made it technicolor, made it spring again. He was blown away. Roger had never met anyone who was so outgoing, yet so easy to stay in with. You were the balance of everything – sweet, yet salty, calm, yet excitable. No matter what it was, you seemed to be perfectly in the middle of it, in the middle of the universe as Roger flew into orbit around you. Once Freddie had introduced you two at an afterparty, Roger already knew you’d be something special in his life. But he never expected how central you would become to his existence. Even the brief thought of you being gone when he’d answered that call – it was like a black hole had sucked him up, reorganized all of his matter, and he had become nothing without you. Like Roger Taylor was just another void, lost to the masses, to the endless universe that no longer had Y/N in it. But what was it worth anyways, without you?
He supposed he would have stared forever, his knuckles white and arms veiny as his fingers clutched at the armrests of his chair – but you slowly arose from your slumber, your eyelids fluttering slowly and then your face contorting in mild pain as you kept your eyes shut. You appeared to be unaware that Roger was now there, so he gently reached out and rested his hand on top of your own left hand, which startled you a tiny bit. You opened your eyes and turned your head to find your boyfriend watching you with red-rimmed eyes, a shaky breath escaping his lips when he met your gaze.
“Oh, Rog,” you whispered when you realized it was his hand encircling yours, and your eyes flooded with several emotions all at once – love, guilt, sadness, happiness, the works. There was no way to know what to feel at the moment, so you just sat there and squeezed his hand firmly, offering him a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here, baby.”
Roger broke down at that. Tears started rolling out of his eyes at a rapid rate, and he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing kisses repeatedly against the back of it. The warmth of his hand encircled your own cold, frail hand, and you felt your own hot, salty tears rolling down your cheeks as you continued to smile at him. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Roger croaked out, his voice almost hoarse as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get a handle on his emotions. “I should have drove you to work, or made you stay home. It was so foggy, it’s my fault-“
“No, no, no, babe,” you murmured, cutting him off as he babbled incessantly about how this was his doing. “I love you, please don’t blame yourself for this.” His mouth snapped closed, then opened for a second before closing again. Slowly opening his eyes, he sniffed and grabbed a tissue, cleaning himself up a bit as he sighed.
“I’m sorry, sunshine,” he apologized again, his nose red at the tip and making him look like he’d just braved a freezing winter wind. His eyes were still bloodshot as he watched you lovingly, a small smile peeking out from the corner of his dainty pink lips. “How are you feeling? Do you need me to get a nurse for anything?”
“Oh, I’ll be alright. How are you, Roger? I hope they didn’t wake you.” Roger laughed, sniffling and rubbing the side of his face. Even after a car wreck, you were still concerned about him.
He squeezed your hand gently, kissing your knuckles again. “Don’t worry about me, sunshine. I love you, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was worried sick about you, it was my job to protect you and I royally fucked that job up.”
A light tinkle of a laugh escaping your lips, and you winced a little at the pain it caused, but you still smiled at Roger. “Roger, you can’t save me from everything, don’t worry so much.”
A grimace formed on his lips at that, and he chewed on his lip a bit. “I could have kept you home. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“How could you have known?” you replied softly, running your thumb over his knuckles repeatedly. “You can’t be everywhere, Roger, it’s not your fault that this happened. Life happens, you know? I don’t blame you for this, and neither should you. You make me happy, and I don’t want you to be upset because of me.
He nodded, bowing his head a bit as he nuzzled your hand, refusing to let go of it as a nurse came in to check on you. No matter what the nurse did, his hand remained around yours, a comforting presence for you as you listened to what the nurse had to say, following instructions.
But it was more for Roger. Your hand was his lifeline – it was the only thing bringing him back into orbit. His sun was back in the universe and the balance was restored. As he observed you responding to the nurse with nods and smiles, a little tune began to play in the back of his mind, a slow, plucky guitar backed by a fluid, beautiful orchestra, and he began to hum softly as the nurse left. Your eyes met his dazzling blues again, and a knowing smile spread across your face as you easily recognized the tune, the words dancing around in Roger’s brain before he began to sing them softly.
sunshine almost always makes me high if I had a tale that I could tell you i’d tell a tale sure to make you smile if I had a wish that I could wish for you i’d make a wish for sunshine for all the while
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tellywoodtrash · 5 years
Note
This is so irrelevant to your blog but sometimes it’s easier to ask for advice from someone you don’t know personally. You’ve only ever mentioned some things about your personal life and some darker moments you’ve had but what should someone who feels down a lot and overthinks should do? Its hard to understand but lately this overwhelming feeling of mediocrity has engulfed me. You’ve always got such wise words for anything you speak about and any advice might be helpful rn 💖
Hey anon!
I’ve been dealing with mental health issues for the major part of my life (I’d say about 2/3rds) and it’s… a battle. A never-ending one, with hills and valleys. And with the world we live in today, I believe every person has some mental health challenges to a certain degree, that they need to work on.
You haven’t given me any specifics, so the first thing I would encourage you to do is seek professional help if you can. There is absolutely no shame in doing so, because trust me, literally everyone is struggling in their own way. Some people just deal with it/hide it better. Almost every single person on earth needs therapy; not because something is “wrong” with us, but because life throws a lot of shit at us that we are just not taught how to deal with it in a healthy manner. A therapist can help you identify your problem areas, analyze your patterns, and suggest better methods of handling difficult things. If medication can make your situation better, then certainly consider that too. You would take medicine for anything else that was wrong with your body, so please give your brain the boost it needs. Do not buy into the stigma that surrounds mental health. Mental health IS a health issue and must be dealt with appropriately by people who are trained in the area.
For feeling down: Try and identify what triggers these low moods. It takes a little time and introspection, but you will ultimately be able to do it. Is it anxiety over something you’re dealing with currently? Certain people/places/situations? For instance, I tend to avoid noisy, crowded places, because dealing with that truly drains me. I’m a picky eater, so I don’t eat with anyone who would disparage me for that. I do not entertain people talking about my body, whatever their opinion may be, good or bad. Identifying WHAT makes you feel bad goes a long way in helping you minimize that thing from happening and protecting yourself.
For overthinking: Personally, the best advice I can give you is to take it one day, hour, or even 5 minutes at a time. Focus on what needs to be done for these time intervals, and get through them. The last five years of my life have been especially tumultuous, and this is what has gotten me through. Life is so fucking unpredictable and fragile, and no one knows if there’s even going to be a tomorrow or what it’s going to look like. So what’s the point worrying about it from today and squandering your time on something that may not even happen? You’ll deal with it when you come to it, just like you have with everything else in life. So use your present well, spending time and effort on things that serve you well. Whatever that may be - education, work, hobbies, entertainment, or even people. If it doesn’t add value or joy to your life, then why are you spending your limited resources on it?
For feeling mediocre: It’s hard in today’s world, especially with social media and everyone stunting on it as if they’re all having the time of their lives. Trust me, everyone is dealing with shit. You see only what people WANT you to see. For example, you see my cute cat and his adorable do-no-evil face, but you cannot see the sheer amount of fuckery he has put me through every single night for the last 7 years. (STFU AND GO TO SLEEP YOU LITTLE HELLION!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP ZOOMING AROUND AND YELLING AND KNOCKING OVER MY STUFF. AND NO I DON’T HAVE ANY TREATS FOR YOU RN, LEAVE ME ALONE. WOULD IT KILL YOU TO SLEEP ON MY SHOULDER AND CUDDLE LIKE ALL THE OTHER FUCKING CATS ON INSTAGRAM??????????????)
My point is, don’t compare yourself to others. You are the only one living your life, with its unique set of circumstances and your personality and…. everything. Other people aren’t accomplishing what you are, or dealing with the setbacks you are dealing with, or working in the environment that you are, so how is it even a fair comparison? Maybe if they were in your exact situation, they’d be failing. In any case, there’s nothing wrong with being mediocre. What you lack in some areas, you more than make up in others. That’s why it’s called “average”. Coz it evens out. Look, the Wright Brothers may have invented the airplane, but we continue to fly because of thousands of unnamed pilots. That is, there are certain people who are special and may achieve amazing things, but the world continues to run smoothly thanks to mediocre, nameless people quietly doing their thing. Of course, you should aspire to better yourself in every manner you can; but not coz you want to beat someone else, but because you want to do the best you can. Your best is enough. You are enough.
Also, I would urge you to try your best to avoid that part of social media where everyone is being inauthentic and just showcasing their “stuff”. “Stuff” doesn’t really make you happy. You buy/experience it, and it fills a void in you for a few hours/days, and then you’re back to square one. Am I telling you to never buy things ever again, like a cuteass but frivolous mug that looks like a unicorn? No, if it gives you joy to drink your morning coffee out of that thing, go ahead by all means. But don’t buy it coz someone on insta has it and styled it nicely. Real life does not have pristine white backgrounds and artistically strewn wildflowers and a perfectly photogenic slice of avocado toast, all laid out casually. Try and live mindfully, doing what feels best for yourself, than trying to fit into a mould that people are pushing on you.
If you’d like to come off anon and message me with the specifics of your situation, you’re welcome to. I certainly don’t have all the answers (lol my own life is quite in shambles), but maybe I can offer some solace and an outsider’s perspective, that could help you?
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