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cryptidcircuslife · 3 years

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Hi unofficial compilation of Getting Away From A Place tips

this is tailored to a specific situation so please do your own research for stuff more specific to you

running away tips subreddit

Short Term Preparation:

These are the things you can prepare now if you have to get out fast and unexpectedly

Do not tell anyone about your plan other than those directly involved in helping you.

Make a plan for your cash. You don't want to access an account your family can access or freeze. Slowly withdraw money and hide it if it's at risk of being taken. Withdrawing it all the day you leave will raise a red flag and have you on camera (atm or bank), if you even have time. As a legal adult, you may be able to get away with this because you aren't doing anything against the law. Just make sure to do it before your family finds out about you leaving. When you leave, if you don’t want to be traced- don’t use cards.

For hiding paper cash- you know your house and its occupants best. Determine what objects you have that won't be thrown away or tampered with by someone, and if they have a hollow space, store it. I used to use opaque pill bottles, hidden pockets or bindings in notebooks, the linings of old dvd or game cases, water bottles, gum cases, (all of these put in clothing or backpack pockets), opening the lining of coats and backpacks and hiding it inside of that, inside of hygeine products like the hollow part of a deodorant stick. Inside old electronics. in the stuffing of a plushie. Underneath the insoles of shoes you dont wear often.

Even if your money isn't at risk of being taken, store some of it separately anyway for emergencies.

I heard the bare minimum for running away with no destination or job is $1k. Judge for yourself your needs.

Get a backpack. Waterproof/resistant is better, but any is good. Don't pack it yet, so you don't arouse suspicion. But test out packing it to see if everything fits, and unpack it. Modify some hidden compartments so that when you travel, you will have places to hide your IDs and Cash- it's necessary so no one steals it. You want to travel light, regardless of your situation, because packing and carrying a ton of stuff takes time and you don't always have time on the day you leave.

Get a secondary bag. I learned the hard way that a backpack doesn't fit everything you'll need. Especially with amenities, food, clothing, personal possessions.... A duffel bag, one of those canvas grocery bags. A tote. Something to hold by hand.

Packing lists for running away are surprisingly similar to emergency evacuation pack lists.

Clothes to pack: 1 short sleeve shirt. 1 long sleeve shirt. 1 pair of pants. 7 sock pairs. 7 underwear pairs. 1 jacket. Some winter gear if you can, because nights will always be cold especially if you are stuck outside.

Hygeine to pack: deodorant. toothpaste. toothbrush. floss. baking soda if you’ll be on the road for a long time. Special products you may need- cream for a skin condition, sunscreen. I recommend a small essential oil bottle as a bug repellent, and some have antibacterial properties to help you/your clothes not smell musty af, and they're safe on the skin.

Must-haves to pack: you should have your social security card and another form of ID, like a state ID or drivers license. Pass port if you have one, and birth certificate or a copy if you can. Your cash. A map of your state/region.

Valuables to pack: bring a few things to keep you entertained that are small. A small book, or a notebook and pen. Try not for anything too heavy or bulky. Any survival gear you may own (sewing kits, first aid, multitools, matches, lighters).

If you will be staying outside, get a sleeping bag. Thermal blanket for cold temps.

Food to pack: bring healthy nonperishable food. Junk food won't do much for you on the move. Go for granola/protein bars, dried fruit, meat bars, jars of nut butters, canned food. A water bottle. Bring all medication you need.

Stuff to wear on you: go for baggy and multi-pocketed stuff. Don't wear your favorite clothing if you don't want to be identified, and make sure they blend well into the environment. Grey is the most unnoticeable color, then black, then neutrals. If identification isn't a problem, only wear and pack your favorite things. Wear comfortable and travel safe shirt and pants. Wear a hoodie or tie it around your waist so it doesnt take up bag space. A hat. Keep some cash in a hidden pocket if you can. Wear comfortable sneakers you can move around in for a long time and is good for the weather of where you live. Keep your self defense on you - knives, pepper spray, etc. (and learn the laws for those in your area)

Note: Storing some of these supplies around or in hiding places won't be too weird. Keeping the 'valuables' in the backpack won't be too strange to anyone either. Keeping everything nearby so you can quickly dump everything in the bags and go is a good idea. But Do Not Pack the clothes until the day you leave. clothes are a warning signal for leaving. And you cannot let them find out about your plans, especially if you are in a dangerous place.

Last note: know these are flexible to you. You can add or change stuff, as long as you have the most important things.

Long Term:

These are the things you can prepare for better

Save as much money as possible. You can secretly sell things.

Research more about what you may experience, be that attaining financial independence or how to train hop and live on the streets temporarily. Look at other people's tips for running away, or their experiences. Research moving out tips. Research specific to your area or where you will be headed. Libraries, shelters, charities, support organizations, 24-hour restaurants and locations. Research ticket prices, gas prices, etc. Apartment search. Be sure to remove those from your history. Cleaning it entirely may be suspicious if someone monitors that.

Build a budget and a food plan for how you will use your savings on the road.

As an adult, if you manage to get hired secretly for a job in your target location, you can apply for housing there, too. You will get set move-in dates and can give dates you can start working that work with your runaway schedule.

If you're running away as a minor, you can't stay with friends. However, as an adult you can. If someone is trying to find you, you'll have to be careful still.

If you need to leave fake trails because someone might search for you, there are some excellent resources by people trying to hide from domestic violence. The main tips are leaving fake trails in cities far away from wherever you will be- job applications you have no intention of following through on, apartment applications, phone calls, internet searches, purchases, etc. These can go more in-depth.

If you will be tracked, figure out how to get a burner phone. These are pretty cheap, and so are their service plans. You may want to consider this anyway to pay for your own service if your phone is taken off the existing one. Write down phone numbers you want to keep.

Make sure you have the proper amounts of medications you will need.

Be careful with this one, but figure out if you have any smaller hard-to-replace valuables that you want to bring to your new life but can't pack for your method of travel or might get stolen. Only do this if you have a place you are going to, and are going to get a job and housing there. Make a plan with a trusted friend to hold on to a few things you cannot carry in your bags and arrange for them to be mailed or picked up later. Only do this with one or two things that are easy to carry, because you will need to get it to them somehow, right? dont do this if you don't have the methods or the time before your runaway day. A good example is that I don't want to replace my laptop but I can't tow it through town and across state lines on a train. my friend can take care of it until I am settled.

Tie off any loose ends that you need to. This can be waiting for a responsibility to be gone, waiting for a last paycheck, or attending something you wanted to go to one last time.

Delete old accounts, and eventually deleting your emails and social media associated with your identity.

Note: The best thing you can do with time is make your supplies as efficient as possible, and plan. plan plan plan.

Schedule your leave date. or a range of leaving dates. But know sometimes it can be unpredictable. Make it a day when no one is home- especially if it's a dangerous situation.

On Runaway Day:

Hopefully you have a small window of time where you are alone.

Make sure you’re wearing all your runaway clothes you have prepared.

Pack your backpack and duffel bag quickly.

Leave a note, even if you don't want to. This is important, because you don't want a search for you because someone thought you were kidnapped or murdered. This way, officials can pretty much ignore it since it was voluntary.

Don’t look nervous or afraid while you are out, since that’ll draw unwanted attention.

If you made a plan for someone to pick you up, or to meet someone, make sure they are punctual. Don't meet right in front of your house if possible. Go a few streets away or somewhere less noticeable. Again, make sure whatever you bring is easy to carry so you move fast and no one tries to steal it.

If unfortunately you have to leave very quickly and haphazardly, leave anything not immediately important to survival behind.

Buy your burner phone with cash. Add your written numbers to the contacts. Create your new email and social media from there. If you're hiding, don't take pictures of yourself. Don't use your real name or information. Keep private accounts, and don't interact with anyone who will give you away.

If you have other travel plans, make your way there. Head to your safe places, your shelter, wherever you have planned. You are in your new life.

Once You Are Out:

Take care of your immediate needs. Find resources for food, water, and shelter.

Start accessing any support resources, regardless of what your situation is. In a town I lived in, there was an LGBTQ+ resource center that had entertainment/food/clothing/education clubs/showering/laundry/other amenities and programs for both lgbtq+ and homeless youth. I also took part in a gift drive for a specific minority that I qualified as, which gave me a lot of food.

Start working towards your future goals. Start job searching, and from there being able to secure housing. Start making friends. build a support structure. i hope it goes well

Rebuild your supplies and closet when you have the location security to do so.

#runaway #running away #runaway help #runaway tips #running away help #running away tips #abuse survival

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hnychn · 3 years

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KARASUNO’S MANAGER !!

SYPNOSIS — it’s a new year and the karasuno team decides to throw a new years party in the school gym

WARNINGS — tooth rotting fluff <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE — none of this is realistic but shut up and let me live laugh and love with the idea it’s real

⇀ HAPPY NEW YEARS BABESS

⇀ so it all started out when noya and tanaka came up with the brilliant idea to throw a new years party

⇀ and since canonically, everyone in haikyuu are losers, everyone agreed 😀

⇀ of course you invited your boo kenma 😼 and the nekoma team

⇀ and kuroo invited the fukurodani team since bokuto heard about the party somehow

⇀ the party is held in the gym, it's byoc

⇀ "bring your own cups"

⇀ cause y'all broke broke 😭😭✋🏼

⇀ kidding . . . about the cup part, y'all are broke though . . .

⇀ anyways, so the team put you in charge of getting the drinks

⇀ . . . but they never specified non-alcoholic 😼

⇀ so you, being the six foot seven giant you were, got some alcohol

⇀ it was surprisingly easy

⇀ like the guy behind the counter didn't even ask you for an ID or anything and he probably assumed you were 21+ because of your features 🤡

⇀ i mean you do be chiselled by the gods themselves 🤪🥴

⇀ not me simping over you 🤺

⇀ so the party is about to start and you come in with literal bottle of alcohol like fUCKING JACK DANIEL'S AND WHISKEY AND RUM AND ALL THAT SHIT

⇀ and when daichi saw you with all the paper bags filled with bottles of alcohol he just-

⇀ . . . 🧍🏽‍♀️

⇀ "y/n. . ."

⇀ "yes? 🤠"

⇀ "why. . .why do you have alcohol?"

⇀ "you said to get drinks. ."

⇀ "i mEANT PUNCH-"

⇀ all daichi wanted to do was punch you 🏌️🏽‍♀️

⇀ LMAO BUT NOYA AND TANAKA TURNT UP WITH THE ALCOHOL

⇀ they poured that shit into those punch bowls? ya know? the ones in those cliche highschool movies

⇀ they got red solo cups and everything 🔫

⇀ anyways, so people start showing up and daichi panics because no sir, these minors aren't getting drink on his watch, but oops-

⇀ kiyoko locked him in the shortage closet 👁

⇀ "i'll let you out in 20 minutes"

⇀ because babes knew that's all it'll take for everyone to be blackout drunk

⇀ and she was right 💅🏽

⇀ fifteen minutes into the party, noya, tanaka, yamamoto, lev and a bunch of first years are drunk drunk.

⇀ suga, kuroo, asahi, and ennoshita are also drunk but like they're the chill typa drunk y'know?

⇀ they playing a game of uno with normal playing cards 🧍🏽‍♀️

⇀ kenma . . . doesn't want to be there BLESS HIM LMAO-

⇀ he's sitting in the corner, red solo cup in hand because kuroo took his pspspsp and won't give it back, even if he is drunk

⇀ and you- good god

⇀ YOU. ARE. D R U N K.

⇀ i'm talking the embarrassing type of drunk

⇀ you're dancing on one of the volleyball poles like a fucking stripper and bokuto is throwing napkins at you like they're ones please- 🔫

⇀ kenma is just in the corner staring like 🐚🌝 hello yes, officer? imma need animal control here asap.

⇀ LIKE DJFJD WTF IS MY BF DOINGG

⇀ he's embarrassed for you 😔✋🏼

⇀ but in the corner of your eye you see kenma sitting all alone so you go over to him, alcohol nearly spilling over the side of your red solo cup

⇀ "what're you doin all alone here, kitten?"

⇀ kenma crinkles his nose because you smell like alcohol, but he just shrugs

⇀ he says something but you can't hear him over he loud music, so you lean closer but you end up spilling your drink all over your shirt and you just

⇀ "ew it's sticky . . . i guess I'll just take it off"

⇀ SO YOU DO

⇀ IN A CROWDED ROOM

⇀ OF DRUNK POSSIBLY NOT STRAIGHT MEN

⇀ and holy fuck-

⇀ how knew you were so foine 🥴🥴

kenma's eyes widen when you suddenly pull off your shirt, your chest still slightly damp from the drink spilling on you. he could feel heat rushing to his face the longer he stared. kenma wanted to look away, he really did, but it was something about the way you rubbed your hands over your abs and chest to wipe off the moisture and the way you looked down with hooded eyes that had him entranced. he couldn't look away, and by the sight of the other people in the room also staring at you with no shame, they couldn't either.

despite being drunk, you could tell people were staring and it filled you with a sort of confidence you only got in the privacy of your room with kenma. speaking of kenma, he wasn't fairing any better. his head was turned to the side to look away, but his eyes betrayed him and stayed focused on your chest.

you smirked.

kenma gasped as you suddenly leaned forward, your hand slamming onto the wall next to him and the other pushing him by the hip, your cold fingers slithering up his shirt and sending chills up his spine. your breathe was warm next to his ear and kenma's blush intensified.

"see something you like, kitten?"

kenma's breathing began to get heavier the longer you whispered in his ear, his chest and pants tightening. kenma refused to look up, knowing half of the people in the gym were staring, but he would by lying if he said it didn't turn him on more than he already was.

your stopped whispering in kenma's ear and began trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, leaving marks behind. kenma had to bite his bottom lip to stop noises from escaping his mouth, but his restraint was limited due to the small amount of alcohol in his system.

your fingers traveled further up his shirt and caressed his waist, pulling him closer to you. pulling away from his neck, you turned to his lips, sucking and biting on them as if it would be the last time you would be able to. kenma's neck was littered with hickies that, even in the darkness of the gym, were extremely visible.

but before things could go any further, you were ripped away from kenma by a fuming daichi, "first you bring alcohol and get everyone drunk, then you try to fuck your boyfriend in the middle of the gym? i'm gonna kill you, y/n."

⇀ you were put on daichi watch for the rest of the night 😔🔫

⇀ but by the time 11 rolled around, you were a bit sober so i guess that's good

⇀ everyone gathered into he middle of the gym and counted down until midnight

⇀ kiyoko and yachi had hung some of those colour changing lights and gave the room some amazing vibes

⇀ and kenma was standing next to you, your arm slung over his shoulder as the lights hit his face perfectly and outlined every feature of his beautifully

⇀ you smiled down at him

"it's already 2021, huh?"

kenma looked up at you and immediately looked away when he saw that you were already looking at him. even after months of dating and nights spent in each other's embrace, he still got nervous when you looked at him the way you were right now.

eyes so full of love and lips pulled into a satisfied smile.

"yeah. . . i guess. . ."

you laughed and pulled him closer to your side, kenma stumbled a bit and grasped onto the new shirt you put on. it was a spare that you left behind in the clubroom one day.

"c'mon kenma! new year, new possibilities! what are your new years resolutions?"

kenma shrugged, burying his head deeper into your side, "i don't have any."

5 . . .

you smiled, "really?"

you looked back up at the digital clock kiyoko hung up on the wall just for new years, your smile never faltering. kenma loved that about you, your ability to smile no matter what. no matter the circumstances.

4 . . .

"what about you?" kenma asked, a small bubble of guilt building in his chest for not answering how he thought you wanted.

you looked down at him with the same lovesick eyes and satisfied smile, kenma felt his heart stop, "me?"

you looked back up at the clock, "hmm. . ."

3 . . .

"i think. . . " you drew out, a playful smile on your face when kenma pouted at your long answer. he slapped your chest when you laughed at him.

2 . . .

"i think," you tugged kenma in front of you and rested your chin on his head, a lazy smile drawn on your face as everyone else yelled about, excited for the new year.

1 . . .

"i think i have everything i could ever want right here."

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!

kenma gasped as you suddenly turned him around, lifting his face by the chin. everyone around you cheered as the clock hit 12 and it was now January 1, 2021.

kenma's heart pounded when he saw the same old lazy smirk on your face and the same old lovesick look in your eyes; but no matter how many times he's seen it, he would always feel the butterflies fluttering in hit stomach.

"happy new years, kenma." you whispered as you pulled him into a kiss.

what a way to start the new years.

⇀ everything after that was a blur

⇀ the party amping up as a way to start the new years and you were sure even daichi had a cup full of some unholy concoction of alcohol kiyoko made for him

⇀ when you woke up, you were in bed, kenma laying a your side.

⇀ with close on, y'nasties 👁

⇀ your head felt like it was going to explode and your stomach turned in ways it shouldn't

⇀ but you were too lazy to get outta bed

⇀ me 🤡

⇀ so you just pulled kenma closer and went back to sleep

⇀ dreaming of a happy future with the man in your arms

taglist:: @stickystrawberrysyrup @420-uwu @nvthvlyy @kaiwai @goshizaki-jun @thetrash-mammal @dprhvn @bakuhore

a/n :: i'll add the read more thing in the morning, i gotta start getting dressed for the new year party. this was kinda rushed too so sorry if it's a bit jumbled or something

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x manager #haikyuu x male reader #karasuno's male manager #karasuno x male manager #karasuno manager #haikyuu manager #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#kenma x male reader #kenma x reader

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4dtk · 3 years

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NCT 127: finding out you're older than them

“Hey, can I request an NCT127 reaction to finding out you're actually older than them when they thought you were much younger than them? (like you look really young despite your age lol)” thank u for waiting honey <3 ps i just used random years that are older than the members!

enjoy! this was fun to write ^^

→ TAEIL would have his mouth in an ‘O’, but more of a ‘ooh cool!’ way where he’s nodding repeatedly to nothing seconds after you’ve spilled the beans. it sinks in more later when he thinks of your birth years side by side and he’s like omg! i’m finally not the oldest and it garners a laugh out of you that you don’t mind being called old by him. honestly, you don’t mind being called old at all by the other members, since technically you are taeil’s s/o. the members are closer to the male, so when they call him old, you join in lol

“woah hyung/noona! i can’t believe you now take the place of oldest in our group,” mark says, although gets a smack from haechan for saying that.

“ack! sorry taeil-hyung and (y/n)-hyung/(y/n)-noona, mark’s mouth is a little big today.”

taeil waves it off, curling an arm around your waist to bring you closer as mark avoids eye contact. slowly the members crowd around the four of you, interested in the topic that’s taking place. it was well over 11pm in the practice room, and having just ended dance practice, they cooled down by taking part in the conversation.

“yeah! you finally can call someone else old!” another smack and a whine from mark accompanied by an apologetic look that wasn’t seen often on donghyuck.

“i’m sorry for them,” taeil whispers with a laugh, placing a kiss onto your cheek before taking a swig of water from his bottle. he takes your shaking head as acceptance of your new position of the oldest, pleased when you return his kiss with one to his lips.

→ JOHNNY is the one to pull a dramatic face lol. you know the one where his mouth is in a ‘O’ and his eyebrows are knitted. the expression is playful, but there’s a bit of genuine shock behind it. recovers from it quickly tho and jokingly calls you ‘daddy/mommy’ to annoy you. i can see him calling you the term later if you get married or have kids though, just in a third person kinda way - something like a running joke from when he discovered you were older years ago.

“no way, you’re born in 1992?” his jaw is dropped, eyes wide that makes you smile just a little, “holy shit you’re old,” there’s a fit of laughter when your hand lands on his back as a form of retaliation (“like you’re not!”), but you agree either way, shrugging nonchalantly at the year of birth.

“then maybe now i can call you daddy/mommy,” you groan at that, shoving him for real now as he lands on the sofa behind him and doyoung at the dining table contemplates whether he should interfere. he decides not to when you full on attack your boyfriend, although with half-assed punches as johnny continues to moan out theatrically in between attacks, “but for real though, next time, i wanna hear voices calling you.”

“the fuck? you mean in like a horror movie way?”

“nah, in the i wanna have a family way.” you gulp with a surprised expression and you launch a badly timed attack that hits him in the balls. you’re apologising with a fluster, johnny is groaning in pain. oh well, this could be story to tell your kids or adopted babies next time.

→ TAEYONG is making surprised noises. it’s so cute lol that you’re the one ending up teasing him about it. taeyong forgets it sometimes, so you have the pleasure of seeing him react like a couple of times bc it finally settles in his mind that you’re older than him. other than that, yong loves you all the same and sometimes acts like a baby just so you’d cave and take care of him. he argues that it’s only the right way! older s/o? you take care of me! i want to be babied.

“huh? you’re older than me?” taeyong asks, mindlessly digging through your stuff until he comes across your ID. he curiously sifts through the information on it, but the number of your birth year seemed to stand out the most.

you hum, placing the last bits of your mask on yourself as you turn back to your boyfriend with a similar look: hair band pushing his dyed hair back, with a mask like yours on his face.

a noise of approval spills from taeyong’s mouth, and you’re left giggling in confusion until he explains his reason for it. you nod through it, happy to give your boyfriend what he wants while he takes his place in your arms. “feels nice,” taeyong mumbles, loving the way you’re playing with his fingers before he asks a question with a small voice. “can we do this more often?”

“of course,” and now you’re glad for taeyong’s curiosity of your things, presenting you with the opportunity (and excuse) to hold your lover in your arms.

→ YUTA doesn’t care either tbh. he may be one of the ones to figure it out before the others - how? you don’t know either but i have a feeling he might’ve taken a look at your ID or something along those lines. mans just nods at the year. as long as you’re still yourself and don’t change how you act in the relationship obvi bc he’s dating you bc of how you’ve presented yourself so far. it’ll feel weird if you suddenly start to dote on him just because you’re older. still likes to take care of you <3

“hey babe? were you born in 1993?” yuta inquires one day at dinner, the whole table of members somehow going a little quiet at the revelation.

“mhm! how’d you know?” you tilted your head, placing a piece of fish into your mouth and ignoring the shocked faces on the faces of the different members.

“eehh- i just saw it on your ID accidentally the other day,” yuta smiles when wiggle your mouth around to feel for the fish’s bone, finally able to shoot your boyfriend a smile as you both go back to your dinner. your laugh is the one thing that’s heard across the table and the occasional clinks of chopsticks against porcelain, and you’re confident if you were on a sitcom, the camera would just have all the members staring into it in shock.

“is it that surprising?” you asked the members, some of them waving their hands and shaking their head, knowing that yuta would probably take it up to them if they happen to have a problem with it.

“so i actually needed to call you hyung/noona?! i’m so sorry!!!” mark exclaims, earning a giggle from you.

→ DOYOUNG would react a little intensely too, but more in a starstruck, quiet kind of way. he just has this wide eyed look that make you burst out in laughter at the discovery and his lips are making a funny shape. he nods it off calm and cooly, but inside he’s like oh my god wtf really???? why didn’t i know this holy shit are they going to leave me for not knowing you can see no thought behind his eyes but you know the man’s spiralling a little inside that you have to reassure him that it’s just a minor thing (he gets out of the dump pretty quickly). your age reveal doesn’t affect him much either.

“you’re- you’re older than me?” doyoung’s mouth dries, coffee cup hovering just below his lips as you drop the bomb without much care. it’s quiet in the early morning, having had just finished filming his relay cam, but you can practically hear doyoung’s thoughts. he’s brought of it when you place a hand on his wrist.

“babe, baby, it’s okay. i didn’t tell you anyway, don’t worry about it,” your smile is blinding, and it has doyoung smiling as well, agreeing along to your reasoning and slowly easing into his previous action of drinking his beverage before he halts again.

your head tilts in question. “what is it?”

your boyfriend waves it off with a shy smile, bringing your hand to his lips as he lands a kiss on the skin there, “nothing. just thinking about how much i love you.”

“did it change?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks when he says it, glad for the two of you being in the only ones awake. “no, not one bit.”

→ JAEHYUN would one way or another kind of know already, although he’s not 100% sure. he’s observant, sometimes content with watching you take care of the other members (poor guy gets jealous tho) or just cleaning up after him when he’s a little too tired to do things - like wash his hair and what not. even if you’re not a naturally ‘taking care of others’ person, jaehyun picks up on the things that he’s heard his friends talk about regarding their older siblings (since he’s an only child) or compares to how you act around the group that’s similar to taeyong or doyoung. i can see jaehyun being a little disappointed, but it doesn’t change much as long as he can keep the dynamic of the relationship (so him giving the affection with you in his embrace). jaehyun is a quiet kind of shock like doyoung.

“huh… you’re born in 1994?”

“sure am,” you’re filling out a form for a membership, pen scribbling with swiftness in order not to hold up the line. you pass it back in a minute as the cashier processes your membership, and you feel jaehyun squeeze your hand. “why, why? is it an issue?” you mumble a thank you to the cashier, heading out of the store hand in hand while you find a spot to talk to your boyfriend.

“no no,” jaehyun giggles, a low one that makes your heart flutter, and he leans down to place a kiss onto your lips. it lingers there longer than you expected and you feel his smile on your lips. “there’s no issue. it just kinda adds up, in a way. you’re such a natural at giving advice and taking care of the other members. i’m just… a little surprised, is all.”

you laugh at that, meeting his lips again in a loving peck, “okay, that’s good then!”

→ JUNGWOO says “woowww!” like video game commentary and claps. yes he claps, you’re not sure why either but he’s just so thrilled to learn of your birth year that he just nods along and gives you a thumb-up after. i can’t say he’ll be that shocked, more of like happy for you like you just told him you passed a test or something. when you ask him about it, he just shrugs and pats you on the back. it’s all part of his personality, though, and like taeyong/yuta, he wouldn’t care much apart from being able to call you ‘sunbaenim’ as a joke. sometimes calls you senpai LMAO

“woah, you’re older than me by four years?” jungwoo mumbles when you show him your old IDs, the topic of your birth year overriding the original goal of wanting to see your foetus pictures.

“hm? oh yeah, i guess i never really mentioned it, huh?” you continue with what you were doing, cleaning up the stray hairs sticking out from your hairdo before jungwoo comes back hugging with his long limbs and silky outfit.

“congrats!” he meets your eyes through the vanity mirror and proceeds to peck your cheek and your expression that follows next brings laughter to jungwoo’s chest. you can feel it move from behind you, hoping he wouldn’t mess up the hour you spent on your hair. “why congrats?” your lip is curled with a raise of your eyebrows as your boyfriend continues to hang off your shoulders.

he thinks, then replies with a dunno and leaves the area to settle back on the bed. the snap of his camera follows next, no doubt taking pictures of the serious face shots of your old ID cards.

→ MARK would be one of the ones that you think is over exaggerating, except he’s just that shocked. he would stumble over his words and texting johnny or whoever to tell him and be like “yoooo? huh? what?” mark would probably be the last one to make the connection and johnny is all like “yeah? u didn’t know?” and mark is like “HOW WOULD I KNOW THEY LOOK SO YOUNG?????!!” hysterical, this man. mark almost doesn’t believe it for a second and you have to take out your ID to show him lmfao

mark’s head snaps to you once he overhears you in conversation with the flyer distributor, catching your attention with something that was in line with your interests. mark tunes out the promoter explaining the features of the product, only coming back to earth when you mention your date of birth for a trial of their services.

“you’re WHAT? nah. no. no way, show me your ID.”

the other jumps back at the sudden exclamation while you just raise an eyebrow. sorry, excuse him, you mumble, and you’re dragging mark off to the side as you fumble in your bag to pull out your ID in exasperation. the timing is imperfectly perfect: mark bends down to inspect your birth year, you flip open the wallet a little too hard, it hits his head in a loud thwack!

“ow.” mark giggles, squinting his eyes to finally make out the fading ‘1998’ on your card, “oh! so the same as jungwoo hyung?” he giggles again, “he finally as someone to talk to!”

→ HAECHAN is shocked but would immediately mask it and go like “oh my! still so pretty, miss halmeoni,” he coos and you’re so ready to smack him. in a way acts like johnny but will not stop using the word on a daily basis (unless you tell him that you don’t like it). it becomes part of the pet names that he calls you, but he still likes the classic baby/honey/love. sometimes also like to whine with hyung/noona if he wants something, like a new video game or for you to buy food for him. other than that, haechan is pretty indifferent about you being older than him.

“hah?! you’re born in 1999?” haechan has his neck stuck out like a fish out of water, not posing that much difference since he’s just finished a shower. you make the bed with deftness, tucking in the duvet easily as your boyfriend approaches from behind.

he’s shocked, but before you can comment on it, he recovers quickly to deliver a quip through his toothpaste-filled mouth, “oh my! halmeoni, then you should take a seat!” your hands are on your hips, glaring at him while he only grins.

you indulge him, though, and take a seat on the newly made bed, relaxing into the softness of the sheets with elbows.

“if i’m considered elderly, then, you can do the housework for me, right?” the dread that slowly fills up haechan’s features make you explode into giggles, before pushing yourself up to come face to face with him.

“thought so,” you whispered, petting his head as you continue the clean-up of the room.

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randomoranges · 3 years

Text

tonight i went on my evening walk with my mom and ran into a student and her family. she lives on the street behind mine. it was a pleasant chat but as we went our seperate ways, i made the comment about how strange it was and how can u imagine if id been wearing some shirt with a curse word or something

and it made me think. about the teacher persona and how the line btwn teacher and private life are often blurred together. what would a reaction be if it was Something Even Bigger - what if i was kissing a SO of the same gender - what if i was wearing such and such clothing - doing this - at this place - existing in a context that is other than teacher?

the incidents mentioned are real. stories that have been on the news. teachers whove posted bits of their real lives that then lost jobs, despite never doing anything wrong on the job.

the colleague bit is also true. it happened at the school i work at a few yrs ago.

anyways.

thoughts and such

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

It’s a perfect night out for a walk and so, after dinner, they put their shoes back on and head out, taking advantage of it being Friday night and not too brain dead. There’s a gentle breeze announcing the upcoming end of summer and the first soft tendrils of autumn and it’s nice – a good break from the oppressive heat of a few weeks ago.

Étienne, as always, links their arms together and chatters away as they walk. Edward is happy to listen and offers insight when needed.

They’re halfway through their walk when they hear a loud “M Édouard?!” and Étienne let’s go of Edward’s arm on instinct.

A few steps later, it turns out that the voice belongs to one of Edward’s students and she’s out walking with her parents, the family dog and her sister.

The girl is excited to see her teacher not at school and then nearly does a double take when she realises that M Étienne is also out walking with M Édouard.

There’s polite chitchat that goes around – general comments from the kids, pleasantries from the parents and all the while, both Étienne and Edward put on pleasant smiles while one recurring thought runs through their head. Are they still safe?

They hadn’t been doing anything untoward, but even if the girls hadn’t noticed anything, surely the parents must have seen that they’d been walking together with their arms linked.

Étienne hates that he’s bothered by it, while Edward wonders if this is going to turn into a thing.

“Do you live nearby?” The mother asks and the question is open enough that they can save face if they want to.

But do they?

There’s nothing criminal to what they’d been doing. An evening walk just like this family. They had lives outside of work and what they did after school shouldn’t matter to anyone. Yet, for some reason, Étienne and Edward both feel as though they’d been caught red handed committing some heinous crime and the feeling is nauseating.

“Other side of the bridge, that ways about,” Edward motions with his hand and his student exclaims that her house is that way as well, because of course it would.

As it turns out, they live on the street right behind them and Étienne marvels at how they’ve never run into each other before.

The sister asks where he lives and Étienne laughs, thankful for the innocence of children. Because, obviously, two men walking together at night would not be living together.

He’s relieved.

He’s also a little saddened.

Disappointed, really.

Étienne gives as vague as an answer as possible and satisfied, the girls chatter excitedly amongst themselves, while the adults wrap up the conversation and then leave, wishing each other a lovely weekend.

Once they resume their walk, Étienne can’t find it in him to link their arms together and Edward takes an extra step to the side. They walk, silent, lost in their own thoughts, and it’s only once they’ve crossed on the other side of the overpass that they glance in each other’s direction.

They share a look that seems to ask if any of what had happened was real, and finally, Étienne cracks first, a desperate chuckle escaping. Edward joins soon after, a full on nervous laugh and soon, both of them are wheezing at the absurdity of the situation.

It is both a coping mechanism and unwinding, but when they finally catch their breath again and resume their walk, it feels less loaded. Edward steps back close and Étienne lets their hands brush together, until he wraps a finger around Edward’s own.

“Perhaps we should move. Change names. Jobs. Leave the country.” Étienne offers, only a little serious.

“I’m honestly surprised it took this long for us to run into a student.”

They look at each other again and fall silent, contemplating the situation.

“Do you think the parents know? Or the girls? – Do you think this will get out?” Étienne voices the questions that had been burning both their minds and the fears that come with it. It’s one thing mentioning in the school agenda that discrimination won’t be tolerate against religion, skin colour and sexual orientation, but it’s another to put it in practice towards staff. There’s a million and one different ways to make it look like they’re being canned for something different, if the school wants to.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know and I don’t know what would be worse. God – and we weren’t even doing anything bad.”

That’s the problem with teaching. There is no such thing as a “private life.” They’ve heard the stories. One “bad” photo on social media and a career finished. One bad day that leads to dismissal. They’re lucky they have elementary students, but still.

Edward remembers the horror fiasco that had happened a few years ago to a colleague of his. An innocent video that had been cut and changed look as though his colleague was saying hate messages. It had blown out of proportion. Parents had been frightened. The police was called. Interventions were made. The man left the school, on his own terms, deciding it would be best for him and the school. Even though he was innocent. Even though his words had been taken out of context. Even though he’d done nothing wrong.

Would this happen to them?

It’s a sobering thought.

Yet, Edward isn’t ashamed of who he is. Neither is Étienne. They are proud of who they are. They believe people should be allowed to be themselves.

Then why is it that they feel such fear?

“I guess we won’t know until Monday,” Étienne says, trying to be reassuring, “We’ll play it by ear and hope for the best. As you said, we weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Yeah – you’re right...” He falls quiet for another moment and then lets out a frustrated puff of air, followed by a short laugh, “At least we weren’t in a strip club,” He says, trying to be light.

“What?”

“When I was doing my internship. One of the teacher’s at the school, he told us of this anecdote. He’d gone to a friend’s stag party at a strip club. And one of the stripers was a student of his – I forget if she was a current or former student. He was mortified, but she recognised him and went right over, calling out to him as if there was nothing wrong. I mean – there’s nothing wrong with working in a club, but the relationship dynamic makes it a little awkward. Or – I would feel awkward. I wish I had her level of confidence though – not be afraid that a student seeing us together might cause a minor scandal and our jobs,” He adds as an afterthought.

Étienne reaches for his hand again, gives it a squeeze and then links their arms together. Edward sags against him and is happy when they turn on their street, close to home, where it’s safe.

“We’ll be fine – whatever happens, we’ll be fine.”

Edward wants to believe him and hopes Étienne will be right.

It’s a different evening, days and weeks and months and maybe even years later. Different yet similar. Another late September evening with a gentle breeze and the promise of autumn to come. It’s night time by the time they go out for their evening walk and it’s a little chilly – a perfect excuse for Étienne to link their arm with Edward, as they’re often known to do.

They chatter away, about one thing and the next, and Edward is happy to listen and provide feedback when needed.

They’re halfway through the walk, when they hear a shout of “M Édouard?!” and approach the voice, Étienne never letting go of Edward’s arm.

It’s a student from Edward’s class, who is surprised to find his teacher out for a walk and not in a school setting. He’s with his own family; parents, an older sibling and the family dog. The kid does a near double take when he notices Étienne and can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that he’s run into two of his teachers outside of school, even if he thinks it’s cool.

The adults exchange polite conversation and eventually the older sibling asks if they live close by. This time, Edward does not shy away from his answer and says that yes, they both have their place not far from here, on the other side of the overpass.

Both student and sibling seem amazed, remarking on how they live literally a block away from there. Étienne laughs, commenting on the smallness of the world, and telling them to come by their street at Halloween, to get candy – at the house with the haunted garage.

The kids’ faces light up, eager and excited, and the older sibling knows where the house is – having gone a few years back and how cool it had been. Amused, the adults wrap up their conversation, and after wishing each other a pleasant weekend, both groups head their own way.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #fic #teacher au

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 8 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: brief mention of loss

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

Chapter 8: Red Tulip Means ‘Declaration of Love’

“Alex,” Thomas smiled broadly.

“Yup, that’s me,” Alex grinned, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought food. And that I am barging in on you. I know that birthdays aren’t really your thing, but I did want to do something, so I thought I’d keep it small, but if it’s not okay then-”

Thomas crushed him into a hug, cutting him off: “You’re such a doll, thank you.”

Muffled Alex replied: “No problem,” he wanted to add ‘did it with love,’ but he didn’t want to make it weird, even if it was true.

“I’m glad you didn’t throw a big party or anything,” Thomas said, stepping back and squeezing his the base of his neck before letting go completely and inviting him, “Here, come in.”

He lead Alex over to the couch and got them both something to drink, while Alex set the food out on the table and started up the TV.

When Thomas sat down, Alex said: “You get to pick the movie, but first unwrap this,” as he handed him the small flat, neatly wrapped package.

“Did you wrap this?” Thomas asked, slightly surprised with disbelief tainting his voice.

“Are you saying I couldn't?” Alex sounded offended, but not that seriously.

“I don’t know, you don’t seem the wrapping type,” Thomas shrugged.

“I’ll have you know that I am the king in gift wrapping. The only one better than me in wrapping is Eliza and she can happily have my crown,” Alex said, slightly too proud of the minor achievement, which was adorable.

Thomas chuckled: “Okay, okay, I believe you.”

“Years of practice, baby,” Alex flexed his little noodle arms.

That elicited a snort out of Thomas, who just shook his head with a smile as he carefully started unwrapping the gift.

Alex watched it for a moment, before he couldn't take it. He had promised himself to wait until Thomas’s birthday was over, but this was just too far: “Oh my God, why are you unwrapping it like that? How old are you again? Sixty?”

“Not you too,” Thomas practically wailed.

“I wasn’t going to say it… today,” Alex protested, “But- I mean, come on, with the tape and the saving the wrapping paper.”

“Ugh, excuse me for not tearing it apart like a monster,” Thomas guffawed.

“It’s kinda funny…” Alex bit his lip, “Old man.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t, but I thought you were on my side, not with James, Laf and Angelica,” Thomas pouted.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be on team cool, when you’re on the other team,” Alex teased, poking Thomas in the side.

The pout deepened: “You’re so mean to me.”

“Yet, I still got you a gift, so forgive and forget,” Alex offered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Thomas said, going back to carefully unwrapping the gift, not changing his ways and taking his sweet time just because he could.

In the the wrapping paper was a pink book with lungs with flowers growing in them on the cover. On the top it said in cursive ‘a poetry collection’ and the title was: i saw you as a flower, written by Ellen Everet.

“I still have the receipt if you don’t like it, but I know you like to try new authors and I saw it and I thought of you,” Alex rambled.

He once again got cut off by a hug, this time paired with a kiss.

Thomas couldn't express how touched he was by the gift. It was both cute and thoughtful, with a reference to a little thing they did and tied to something he liked to do. Only James had given him such a personal gift in the past seven years.

“You’re so good to me,” Thomas whispered, “I want to keep you forever, you precious little thing.”

“Forever?” Alex whispered back, a little hopeful yet cautious.

It only then clicked for Thomas what he had actually said. He flushed and started to backtrack: “I mean- I don’t- no-” then remembered his conversation with James, “Well, I would be up for it, but just a boyfriend would be nice for now.”

Immediately Alex’s frame relaxed and he beamed. He leaned into Thomas’s side and said: “That does sound nice.”

“So, does that- do you- do you want that?” Thomas had to double check, a voice in his mind telling him to not believe it.

“Yeah, yeah, I would,” Alex smiled, “I’m actually glad you spoke up first, isn’t that sad? Me, always opinions everywhere, never quiet.”

“Hey, we all have our moment and I won’t have you bad mouth my boyfriend,” there were flutters in his stomach just saying that and he saw them reflected in Alex’s eyes.

“Sap,” Alex pushed him over.

He stuck out his tongue and retorted: “It’s your sap now.”

“Yeah, my sap,” Alex repeated giddily.

Thomas sat up again, quickly leafing through the book: “But really, thanks for this, I’m definitely reading it,” before putting it to the side and pulling Alex close to him, “I say we watch The Breakfast Club.”

“I love that movie,” Alex smiled, putting it on, before settling againstThomas’s heart.

Thomas noticed Alex did this thing where he wiggled under his arm and made himself small against his side. He wasn’t sure if Alex knew he did it, but he always looked so content tucked into Thomas’s side, so Thomas couldn't bring himself to say anything about it with the risk that Alex stopped.

The opening of the movie rolled and Thomas just held Alex against his side, warmth that he could say he was cuddling with his boyfriend.

When Thomas awoke the next morning it was with a still asleep Alex tucked against his side in the bed. He smiled softly and tucked Alex’s hair behind his ear and placing a kiss on the forehead of his boyfriend.

He smiled at that and tightened his grip on Alex, the man starting to stir with that. Blearily he blinked and asked: “Wha’s going on?”

“Hey there, sleepy head,” Thomas replied, “We have work today, you need to get up.”

Alex groaned and burrowed his face in Thomas’s chest: “But you’re so comfy.”

Thomas chuckled lightly, but Alex looked to adorable to argue with him. His hair was a mess and his eyes half closed as he curled into himself and tugged the pillow over his head slightly. So he said: “I’m making coffee, you can come down in a few minutes and I’ll pour you a cup.”

A small smile made its way onto Alex’s face and he mumbled: “So good to me,” before rolling over once more.

At that Thomas rolled his eyes then he got out of the bed and got dressed, before padding his way downstairs. There was a lightness in his step after yesterday and he felt better than he had in a while, like he could do anything.

He stopped at Martha’s photo in the kitchen. He didn’t have many pictures, but he had a few Martha’s around the house. He smiled at her and said: “God, if you could see me now, you’d be so proud of me for being happy.”

Behind him Alex watched him, still in his pajamas. He smiled softly, before retreating, not wanting to intrude on the moment. He hadn’t noticed the pictures the first time he was there, but he was glad that Thomas had at least something.

A few minutes later he came back, fully dressed this time, and pecked Thomas on the cheek as he greeted him: “Good morning.”

“Ah, awake now, are we?” Thomas teased, planting a quick kiss on Alex’s lips and handing him a mug that Alex took gratefully.

“Yeah,” Alex said, “Slept well again, didn’t want to let it go just yet.”

“Hm, you usually seem to sleep well, that not true?” Thomas frowned, the answer prickling something in his mind.

Alex looked up from his mug, confused, before smiling softly and explaining: “I usually wake up early, with Pip and just general bad sleepinghabits, but having someone next to me makes it easier to sleep.”

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, glad that he could help Alex to sleep like a normal person. The man had enough bad habits as it was.

They moved throughthe morning, gathering their stuff and getting in Alex’s car, Thomas deciding he could get back on his own after work, since Alex was goingto pick up Philip from Eliza after work.

It was the first time they came together since they started flirting. Normally when one stayed the night it was in the weekend, but despite some of the looks they got, it didn’t feel weird. It was just the next step and both were excited to take it.

One of the people that noticed was Angelica, who pulled Alex into her office, eyebrows wiggling: “So, Alex, how was the birthday boy?”

“Shut up, it was nothing like that. We stayed the night together before, you know,” Alex rolled his eyes at her, hoping he wasn’t blushing.

“But Pip was in the house then,” Angelica protested.

“And there have been times he was not,” Alex countered.

“Come on, give me something,” Angelica shook his arm, “I see in your eyes that something big has happened. Tell me.”

Alex contemplated letting her splutter a bit more, but it wasn’t necessary, because she threatened: “I am willing to break my promise to never mention Hammy the Cat to Thomas.”

“Okay, okay, calm down, I was going to tell you anyway,” he said, then grinned, “I just got a boyfriend, so tha-”

“What?” Angelica shook him even harder, “You made it official?”

He nodded excitedly, before saying: “I’m gonna tell Eliza when I see her, but I don’t know who Thomas is telling and I don’t wanna be weird about it, so try to keep it on the down low, okay? It’s not a secret or anything, just don’t go yelling it off the roof.”

“Of course,” Angelica promised, “God, ‘Lexi, I’m so excited for you.”

“Me too, Angie, me too.”

They chatted a bit more, before Alex couldn't justify wasting work time to himself anymore and they split ways to get to work.

Meanwhile Thomas had barely made himself comfortable behind his desk when his phone went off, he had put the sound on because it was his birthday the day before and forgotten to turn it off again. He saw the caller ID and sighed, it was his mom, he couldn't ignore her again.

He picked up with a: “Hi, Ma, how are you?”

“I would be better if I had a son that could pick up on his birthday so that I could congratulate him properly, but we can’t have everything, I suppose,” she said in lieu of a greeting.

“Sorry, Ma, I got caught up and missed you,” he explained.

“Well, congratulations anyway,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Did you have a fun day, with the getting caught up in things, I hope it were good things,” she went on, “Because if they made you work overtime on your birthday I’m having words with Washington, I don’t care how good of a boss he is.”

“No, it was good, don’t worry, Ma,” Thomas assured her.

“Yeah, what were you doing? I barely talk to you these days, tell me what’s going on in your life.”

Thomas cringed at that, he had run off to France after Martha’s death and with her buried in Virginia, he had been avoiding his home and family for a while now. He made an excuse: “I’m at work right now.”

“And I am your mother, you can spare me a few minutes,” she said, “Are you still coming to Monticello this summer?”

“Yeah, I’m still coming to Monticello,” Thomas confirmed, he felt bad about ignoring her and he wanted to go home again.

“Good, I miss having you around.”

“I know, Ma,” Thomas felt guilty about not telling her about Alex. She had done a lot for him as a single mother of nine after his dad had died, he could see with Alex how much work it could be. He could spare a few moments to talk to her about everything.

He cleared his throat and said: “Actually, I missed you, because- uhm, my- my boyfriend had gotten me flowers and in the evening he came by to watch a movie together, so I wasn’t on my phone much yesterday.”

“A boyfriend?” she repeated, a bit of delight in her voice.

“Yeah,” he was blushing, “it’s kinda recent thing, well, maybe not, but it wasn’t really official until yesterday, so you’re still the first to hear about it. Sort of.”

“Tommy, I’m so happy for you,” she sounded really glad for him, which was a weight off his shoulders, “After Martha, I never thought I’d hear you sound like that.”

“Me neither,” Thomas confessed.

“Want to tell me about this mystery boy?”

“His name is Alex,” Thomas started softly, suddenly shy, “I know him from work. He’s also friends with Laf and Angelica.”

“Well, I trust Laf and Angie to have good taste,” he could hear the smile in her voice and suddenly he missed her so much.

He chuckled and blinked away tears suddenly welling up. God, he hadn’t been home in ages, having skipped last Christmas.

“What makes this Alex boyfriend material?” his Maasked.

Thomas knew the answer to that: “He can keep up with me in conversation, always keeping me on my toes, yet it’s so easy to talk with him. He’s just filled with passion and it’s amazing to see, but he’s totally different and gentle in other moments. Like with Philip, his son, it’s whack to see.”

“He has a child?”

“Yeah,” Thomas hesitated, “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, no,” his Maassured him, “Just make sure you don’t get caught up in a divorce mess.”

“Oh, no, Ma, he’s a widower.”

It was quiet for a moment, then his Mareplied: “I’m sorry for his loss, how terrible. Did it happen recently?”

“Almost five years now,” Thomas answered, he knew why she asked. She wanted to know if he wasn’t being used to get through grief. He was touched by her concerned, but knew that wasn’t the case.

“So, I’m getting an grandchild,” she swiftly moved on, satisfied with his answer.

“You already have grandchildren,” Thomas laughed.

“But now I also have a grandson,” she told him.

“If everything goes alright, yeah.”

“You’re gonna be- I’m happy for you,” she said, “I would love to meet them sometime, ask if they want to come to Monticello this summer.”

“I-” Thomas didn’t know what to respond to that, sure, it was a few months away, but that was a big ask and maybe way to fast, “I- I’ll ask him,” he finally decided on.

“Good,” he could practically see his mother nodding, “I’ll let you get back to work now. Don’t forget to call me from time to time.”

“I’ll try,” and he promised to himself to actually try.

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Bye, Ma.”

After he hung up, he sat in his office for a moment, mulling over the conversation. It felt good to tell his Maand the conversation had made him more convicted in how much he wanted this relationship to stay.

He worked ‘till lunch then went over to Alex’s office, opening the door and greeting: “Hi, you hungry yet?”

Alex looked up from his furious typing and smiled. He stopped typing completely and replied: “Ah, my wonderful boyfriend, with food offerings.”

It was clear he said that just because he wanted to say boyfriend and Thomas couldn't help the grin that painted on his face, though he still teased: “Oh, am I really nothing more than food to you? I see how it is.”

“You got other qualities too,” Alex assured him, before teasing, “Like- like- oh, this is harder than I thought.”

“Dick.”

Alex just blew him a kiss and Thomas decided to drop it. He watched Alex put his work to the side and felt pride in his chest. When they’d first started eating lunch together, Alex would keep getting distracted by his work, but now he packed it away without needing a reminder.

They ate lunch and argued about which came first: the chicken or the egg. Thomas decided chicken, while Alex was in camp egg, all sparked by the egg on Thomas’s sandwich.

At the end, he did tell Alex about telling his mother after she called, which Alex was luckily cool about it. He just told Thomas that it was cool he had a mom and he should cherish the contact he had with her. However, he hadn’t yet asked him to go to Monticello with him, that felt a bit too soon.

After Thomas’s birthday they gradually fell into a new rhythm, wherein Thomas was over at Alex’s house from Thursday afternoon to Monday morning.

When Alex had to pick up Philip on Fridays. He was home earlier, so he would cook, while Thomas would cook on Thursday, since Alex would have to swing by whoever had picked up Philip that day. Though Thomas would pick up Philip from his Aunties and Uncles often enough.

They hadn’t even fully noticed how embedded they were into each others lives until Alex had a late last minute meeting on a Tuesday, right as he was about to leave to pick up Philip.

“No one is there to pick up Pip,” he said to Thomas the moment he’d heard about the meeting, “Oh fuck, Washington will kick my ass if I miss this meeting. Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“I’ll pick him up,” Thomas had offered it before thinking about it.

“You?” Alex took a moment to let the offer sink in, “That’s- that’s perfect, oh fuck, thanks. Thank you so so much.”

“Hey, no problem, might as well at this point,” Thomas assured him, only now realizing he’d never picked up Philip from schoolbefore.

“And you’re sure you don’t have anything important that’ll get between you and picking up Pip?” with anyone else it would sound like distrust, but Thomas knew how much Alex worried and cared about Philip’s well being.

“Nah, everyone who could need me is in your meeting, I’m just lucky I have nothing to do with your little project,” Thomas replied, “I just need a note from you with a signature stating it’s okay for me to take Pip with me, might be a bit awkward otherwise.”

Alex snorted at that, before quickly penning it down and repeating the school and address along with the time school was out.

Before Thomas was out the office, Alex stopped him with a quick kiss: “You’re the best, thank you so much.”

“No problem, go kick ass in your meeting, darlin’,” Thomas smiled.

He got a thumbs up in return as Alex spun on his heel and sped off, leaving Thomas to make his way to his car and drive to Philip’s school after emailing Washington about the situation.

Thomas parked in front of the building and walked to the front desk, note in hand where he interrupted the sectary in her typing: “Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas, I’m here to pick up Philip, Philip Hamilton. First time, where do I go?”

“Ah, Ms. Dolley’s kindergarten class? It’s down that hall, do you have parent’s permission?” she replied pleasantly.

“Ah, yeah, right here,” he handed her the note and she checked it over meticulously, before nodding and giving it back: “Seems alright, have a good day.”

“You too,” Thomas nodded back awkwardly, before going down the indicated hall.

When he got to the classroom only Philip was left. He felt pretty bad that the whole thing had made him that late, but better late than never, he reasoned, hoping Philip would agree. He knocked on the door frame: “Hello, here Philip.”

Philip’s head shot up from his coloring book and he cheered: “Uncle Thomas!”

“Hey there, kiddo, sorry for the lateness,” Thomas greeted back, catching the running child in his arms and sweeping him around, before putting him down again, “Go grab your stuff, okay.”

The kid nodded and went about gathering his last stuff, while Thomas shook the hand of the teacher: “Hi, I’m Thomas, I have a note from Alex if you need it.”

“Ah, so you’re the famous Thomas, good to finally put a face to the name,” the teacher replied, “I’m Dolley, it’s nice to meet you.”

Thomas smiled: “Yeah, I somehow never got around to it, mostly picking him up from one of his Aunts or Uncles instead of school.”

“No need to explain yourself to me, I get it with a long job, you’re not the only parent,” she said pleasantly, “Can I see the note, just in case.”

“Of course,” Thomas handed her the note, deciding not to comment on the parent-part.

While she inspected it too, Philip finished packing and asked Thomas: “Why isn’t Papa picking me up? I thought he was going to?”

“Your Papa had a meeting, it was unplanned and last minute. He really wanted to come, Pip, but your Grandpa George needed him,” Thomas explained.

“Was he being way smarter than everyone else and did they need him to kick butt?” Philip asked.

Thomas laughed at the kid’s wording that was obviously Alex’s and agreed: “Yeah, they did, kiddo, they did.”

“Whoo, epic Papa, kicking everyone’s butt,” Philip cheered making ninja poses.

He ruffled the kid’s hair and nodded with a smile. Dolley gave him back the note and said: “Well, looks like everything’s in order, so you’re free to go,” she turned to Pip, “Have a good afternoon, Philip, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“‘Till tomorrow, Ms. Dolley,” Philip smiled a big toothy grin that was so much like Alex’s.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Thomas bid her farewell, before leading Philip outside, listening to his stories about coloring and their epic game of hide and seek during recess.

His own car had been outfitted with a booster seat as well after too many times of almost forgetting to transfer it. He buckled Philip in, then remembered Alex had his key of the house after leaving it at his office yesterday.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, before turning to Philip, “Hey, kiddo, how do you feel about seeing my house for a change?”

“That’ll be the coolest,” Philip clapped his hands.

“Good, good,” Thomas nodded, before texting Alex about the change of plans then he put his phone away to focus on driving.

As they drove Philip talked more about his day at school, before moving on to trees and finally windows. Thomas wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up at the topic, but it was kind of wonderful how much the kid could ramble on about anything if it caught his interest. Again Thomas saw Alex in him.

They rolled up into his driveway and Philip gaped: “You live there?”

It wasn’t that much bigger than Alex’s house, since it was near each other, but the woodwork was definitely more elaborate and Thomas had put a lot of thought in the front of his house. He confirmed: “Yeah, I live there, Pip. Wanna see the inside?”

Philip nodded quickly and Thomas unbuckled him and let him run to the front door, while he grabbed their stuff.

Thomas unlocked the door and told Philip: “Shoes off, please. You’re free to explore to your hearts desire, just come eat a snack and drink something in the kitchen first. It’s on the left there.”

Toeing his shoes off and handing Thomas his jacket, Philip was gone, peaking through every door he encountered on his way to the kitchen, while Thomas hung up their coats. He stopped and stared for a moment at the little coat hanging on his coat rack, shaking his head with adoring disbelief that this was his life now.

He got to the kitchen, mentally thinking of what he had to give to Philip, when he stopped in the doorway. Philip was looking at the picture of Martha he had in the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as he poured him a glass of orange juice.

When he handed it to him, Philipasked: “Who is that?”

Looking at the picture, words from the email from now seemingly so long ago came to him and he said: “That’s your Auntie Martha, she’s with the angels like your Daddy, but she preferred saying she was dancing among the stars. She’s looking over you from there, she’ll guide you home when you’re lost.”

Philip hummed and looked back to the picture studying it closely, before saying: “She’s pretty, like Auntie Maria and Auntie Peggy.”

“Yeah, she is,” Thomas agreed softly.

“Was she your Daddy?”

It took a moment for Thomas to decipher the question, but then he agreed: “She was, yeah. Me and her were married just like your Papa and Daddy were.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Philip drank his orange juice while Thomas sliced an apple. When the juice was gone, Philip decided: “I like her.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Thomas said, giving him the apple slices, “Eat these and then you’re all set.”

Philip happily munched on the slices, before thanking Thomas and rushing off to explore the house, leaving Thomas to think about today.

Ms. Dolley had assumed he was the other parent. It was probably because Philip had told them he was his Papa’s boyfriend, but he hadn’t even protested. He had a booster seat in his car and he was getting sentimental about a coat.

Somehow, Philip had wormed his way into Thomas’s heart and he couldn't imagine a life without the little kid and Alex.

Fuck.

He had accidentally adopted a kid – sort of – while he hadn’t even told the kid’s parent and his boyfriendthat he loved him. He did, God, of course he did, but he hadn’t said it yet.

At all.

And neither had Alex.

“Uncle Thomas!” Philip yelled and he immediately dropped any other thought as he rushed to the sound.

“What’s up kiddo?”

“You framed my picture,” Philip pointed out happily.

“I said I would, didn’t I. I made a pinky promise, I don’t make those lightly,” Thomas told him with a smile, looking at the portrait at end of the hallway. He had hung it up as promised right when he came back from that second date. With all his younger siblings and his two nieces he knew how important it was to make a big deal out of their art and he hadn’t even thought about it.

He looked at the portrait again and made up his mind, he was going to tell Alex he loved him. But he was doing it subtly, because fuck, that shit was too scary for him.

By the time Philip had seen all the rooms and asked a thousand questions about the books on the shelves and the souvenirs decorating the rooms, he was exhausted and had collapsed on the couch while Thomas made dinner.

The door opened and Alex’s voice rang through the hall: “I swear, the next time I see Lee and Adams, they won’t like me. Not that they do now, but oh my God.”

“Hello to you too, darling,” Thomas called back.

“Papa!” two tiny feet pattered down the hall.

Thomas could hear Alex laugh and Philip squeal, before he appeared in the doorway with his son on his hip. He kissed Thomas’s cheek and said: “Hi, Thomas, have a good afternoon with this little scoundrel here?”

“Of course, he was a proper gentlemen, right Pip?” he replied, stirring the food.

Philip nodded: “I explored the house, Uncle Thomas has my picture on the wall and I have another Auntie, did you know I have another Auntie?”

“Really?” Alex raised a brow at Thomas, but before he could say anything, Philip was already responding: “Yeah, she’s Auntie Martha and she’s very pretty. She has all the pretty dresses in the pictures and she smiles nice. Uncle Thomas said she’s dancing among the stars, isn’t that super cool?”

Realization dawned on Alex and his face softened as he send Thomas a small smile: “Yeah, Pip, that is super cool. Your Auntie Martha is watching out for you, just like Daddy.”

During dinner Philip recounted his day, while Thomas assured Alex that everything had gone well during the pick up, before Alex complained about his meeting, apologizing to Philip that he couldn't pick him up.

When dinner was done, Philip asked: “Are we going to have a sleepover here?”

Alex looked to Thomas, who shrugged and indicated that it was up to Alex and he didn’t mind either way. Alex asked in turn: “I don’t know, buddy. Would you like to?”

Philip’s eyes lit up and he said: “Oh, can I, Papa? Can I?”

“Sure, buddy,” Alex chuckled.

“Come on, kiddo,” Thomas got up, “If you help me carry these dishes you get to pick a guest room to sleep in, I’m sure you already found all ofthem.”

Thomas and Philip walked out of the room, leaving Alex to watch them with a content smile as he stayed seated for a while. Taking care of Philip had never been a burden and his friends helped him out so much, but it was nice to have Thomas around.

They allowed Philip to play a little more after dinner, before dressing him in one of Thomas’s sleep shirts and Alex made up a story about a knight, who befriended a dragon and rode between the clouds, before they fell tiredly on the couch.

After a moment of just them sitting there, Alex said: “Thank you for picking up Pip.”

“It really wasn’t a problem, ‘Lex,” Thomas assured him, “I like doing stuff for Pip, he’s a good kid and it wasn’t a problem, so don’t go worrying about it. I see your little eyes.”

“Hey, don’t insult my eyes,” Alex huffed, but Thomas saw relief in there.

“Not insulting, darlin’, I like your eyes too much for that,” he grinned.

“Sap,” Alex rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest when Thomas pulled him into a kiss, before draping himself over Thomas and staying there as they watched Designated Survivor, which they had multiple discussions about.

Alex thought it was good to be as honest as Tom Kirkman was being, while Thomas thought that it was stupid seeing the circumstances. And when Alex said it worked in his favor, Thomaswas quick to point out that it was a script and not real life, which ended up in a discussion of how it could have played out otherwise.

Over the course of the following days, Thomas made a plan to confess to Alex that he loved him. It involved bothering James, who didn’t appreciate it, and bothering Laf, who had to be sworn to secrecy using his Ma’s chocolate chip cookie recipe as a bribe.

He set it in motion the Friday a week later. Alex had left work early to pick up Philip from school, so when Thomas left he went past a flower shop and got red tulips.

First he had wanted to go with roses, but his whole plan hinged on subtlety, since he was going over to James’s house in the weekend, because they hadn’t hung out in forever, while Alex was taking Philip and visiting Herc after the man had gotten the weekend off after a huge fashion deal.

So, he would give the flowers and before Alex could decipher the meaning, he would be gone. Not having to see the reaction or deal with any of that in the moment, giving Alex space to not reject him immediately in his face.

It was perfect if he did say so himself.

With the tulips in hand he opened the door and called out a greeting. From the kitchen he heard Alex’s reply, but his first focus was on Philip, who wanted to show him a drawing he made at school that day.

He stopped however, when he saw the flowers in Thomas’s hand. Cocking his head to the side, he asked: “What are those?”

“They’re tulips, I saw them and got them for your Papa,” Thomas explained. Philip inspected them closely and Thomas couldn't help himself, when he asked: “Up to your standard, Mr. Inspector?”

Philip didn’t mind, with the family he had it was impossible not to be slightly sarcastic, so he just grinned: “On thin ice, but I give you a green light.”

“Why thank you.”

At that point Alex stuck his head through the door into the hallway and asked: “What’s holding you two up? The hallway that interesti-” he stopped when he saw the flowers and asked, “What are those for?”

“Just saw them and thought it would be nice,” Thomas shrugged, like he hadn’t planned this out in detail.

“How sweet,” Alex smiled when Thomas handed him the flowers.

Thomas took a moment to appreciate Alex in all his domestic beauty. He had an apron on and there were a few pans simmering on the stove while he cut the flowers and set them in a vase, nodding in approval to himself when he gave them a spot.

It was so crazy, yet so good to see the man he loved so relaxed and at home. The sight stirred something proud in Thomas’s chest, the small part he played in making Alex look like that as a badge of honor on his chest.

The feeling moved him to hug Alex from behind, lifting him slightly of the ground and making him gasp before he giggled.

He blew a raspberry on his cheek then set him down, taking full responsibility for the tickles he got in retaliation.

This was good, he felt good and he only hoped he hadn’t entirely fucked it up by telling Alex how he felt.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

I have not read the poetry itself, but the title was just too fitting not to include it in this fic. I did order it, so maybe by the time I’m posting it I have, but at the time of writing: no.

Also I am not writing smut, just not doing that. If you wanna think they have sex you can, but honestly I’m not touching that with a ten feet pole. No shame to people who do, just not for me <3

(hi im a greyaroace nonbinary lesbian if you think I know how to write that, then you would be incorrect)

#RR Writing #tw: loss mention #Hamilton #Hamilton AU #Alexander Hamilton #Thomas Jefferson #Philip Hamilton #Angelica Schuyler #Jamilton #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 8 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU

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allywrites360 · 4 years

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Treasure Planet Analysis

I recently watched this video talking about some of the visual storytelling evident in this movie, and thought I’d rewatch it a little more closely, and add some of my own thoughts!!

So firstly, there are two really prominent examples of this type of storytelling with Jim (who’s going to be the main subject of this post; he is the protagonist after all, huh?). The first is his wardrobe itself, starting out made of entirely dark colours, and the second being the shadow between his eyes which is animated at key points during the movie.

At the outset of Treasure Planet, the shadow is shown constantly, for the first fifteen minutes at least before the slightest change. This symbolizes the shadow of pain that was left when Jim’s father abandoned him (oh, and spoilers for the movie in this, obviously).

The first minor change in this shadow is the moment when Jim’s passion is ignited in something for the first time in a long time; the prospect of travelling to Treasure Planet, which Jim hopes will allow him to prove he’s worth something to his mother (a doubt that’s created by him entirely), and have a real shot at something other than resigning himself to a rebel. This spark of hope lightens the shadow for the end of that scene. This might also be a good time to mention that the shadow could be symbolic for self doubt as well. This one may be not as clear to see because of the difference in lighting, but you’ll notice if you rewatch the movie carefully.

Jim then opens up a bit, starting to let go of his past hurt as he warms up to Silver, him acting as the new father figure in Jim’s life. This is shown not through the shadow, as Jim still hasn’t fully let go of his past, or fully bonded with Silver at this time, but through the change of his clothes into a much lighter, more natural tone.

Directly following the above scene id the first time the shadow makes its’ disappearance from Jim’s face; the moment when Silver takes Jim with him on a boat ride, a parallel to the way Jim’s father left him behind. Silver, however, waits for Jim to jump in, and proceeds to bond with him by teaching him sailing (is it called sailing?).

The black coat and shadow return, however, as Jim’s guilt casts it upon him at being blamed for a crew member’s death after being accused of failing to properly fasten his line. The coat here serves to act as an emotional barrier that Jim has used since the outset of the movie as he’s moved to sit alone on the edge of the ship.

The shadow disappears later in this scene, however, as Silver encourages him, and eases his guilt. He tells Jim that he believes there is greatness in him, and hopes that one day he can “catch some of the light that’s comin’ off [Jim] that day.” the day in question being when Jim finally achieves the greatness Silver knows him to be capable of. This introduces the light and greatness motif, which continues throughout the rest of this film, showing they go hand in hand, and once Jim is able to finally step fully into the light, he’ll be able to be free of his past, and reach his full potential.

The coat remains, however, until the next morning, when, with some encouragement, he leaves it behind. This may seem just a little gag to show Jim with morph, and it could be, but it could also demonstrate that change isn't instant, depending on how deeply you want to read in to individual scenes.

The shadow comes back once again when Jim’s trust in Silver is broken, and when he’s hurt by the older man, in this scene, it’s in the form of his lamenting to his pirates that he never cared for Jim, and was merely trying to keep him off their backs. This brings back the feeling of betrayal Jim felt when his father left, as the man he cared for and trusted portrayed the fact Jim meant nothing to him. Again, brief scene, and this was the best shot I could get.

The coat notably does not make a reappearance after this scene, nor for the rest of the movie, showing that despite the hurt Jim experiences here, he has grown as a character, and is more confident in himself than he was at the start. This change remains, and is not undone, even by Silver’s selfish actions.

The shadow finally leaves a few moments later, when Jim is entrusted the map by the captain. This gives him purpose, and a goal, which allows him to move past his hurt and do what’s right, which he knows will ultimately help others. This also shows his character has grown, as he moves past his pain to take on the responsibility without hesitation.

The shadow’s returns for the remainder of the film are nearly exclusively when he is reunited with Silver, or at the very least related to him in some way. All of this ties back to the light motif I mentioned earlier, as when Jim is given encouragement by his friends (captain, doctor, Ben, etc.), he is able to step up confidently, and take on responsibilities, reaching more to his full potential. This is contrasted by Silver’s presence, the man destroying that self esteem and bringing feelings from Jim’s past up despite personal growth.

Later in the film when Jim leaves his hideout on Treasure Planet with Ben, he quite literally steps into the light to help the others (in this scene, namely to retrieve the map from the Legacy to stop Silver from reaching the treasure and harming his friends). This shows that Jim’s selfless nature will eventually be his greatest strength (and already prominently is), and will be the thing to lead him to ‘greatness’.

When the shadow is missing, in scenes such as this, Jim’s face also seems to be overall more relaxed; brow less furrowed as he lets go of the past, and stops the aspects of the shadow (such as self-doubt) that he had been casting himself.

Jim’s gun flying away during the fight scene on the ship is also symbolic of his growth; his freedom moving just beyond his grasp (as he’s dragged down by memories through Silver), but him finding a way to keep fighting and continue triumphing anyway (as shown through the inconsistent shadow).

Silver’s influence on Jim (at the moment negative, as it is directly tied to the visual element of the inclusion of the shadow), is shown vividly through the scene where Silver’s pirates restrain Jim and take the map to Treasure Planet. The shadow only appears when Jim glares at Silver, but lightens when he’s focusing on doing what’s right (fighting the pirates) rather than his hurt.

Jim assertively telling Silver that if he wants the map, he has to take him along also serves his character growth really well. He's standing firm in his own decisions, despite losing the approval of his father figure, finally becoming his own person outside of others’ expectations or notions of him, and making these decisions based on what’s right, rather than simply rebellion.

The light from the doorway to the treasure gently lightens the shadow, symbolizing Jim's belief that his pain will be dissipated by gaining the treasure, and that he will gain his mother’s pride (which was already present) as well. This is a falsehood that Silver must face as well, both accepting that the treasure was meaningless overall, and would not give them what they wanted.

This recognition is clear to the audience well before it is to the characters, which is achieved subconsciously through the scene where, while all of the pirates are gazing towards the treasure, Jim looks back at Ben and morph, his friends meaning more than the treasure he’d searched for.

The next piece of symbolism is my personal favourite from the film; Jim falling while they are with the treasure. He works to pull himself back up, but needs that final pull from someone who cares about him (Silver). This symbolizes Jim trying to move past his father’s abandonment, and step into the person he’s grown to become. But he can't do it on his own, to fully make the leap, he needs the support of a father like figure, who in this case, is Silver, choosing Jim’s life over the treasure.

The shadow, which was likely present throughout and after this scene (there were few clear frames of his face, but let’s assume it was) darkens again at Jim’s realization that Silver may leave him, which comes when the captain comments about him being put to trial. This brings up strongly his final moments with his father; this may not seem like much now, as it is a very brief scene, but it strengthens the conclusion of his time with Silver, which we’ll get to in a minute.

The shadow then disappears once and for all as Jim relies on his strengths, both internal (selflessness), and external (knowledge of mechanics), to build a solar surfer to allow him to save his friends and their ship from being destroyed. This shows him finally reaching that confidence in himself and his abilities that Jim has sought after his entire journey, and, as a result of this, he is not negatively influenced when he interacts with Silver in the form of the pirate helping him with the construction of the solar surfer. He has, at this point, nearly completed his arc, and moved past his insecurities.

Jim then falls again, in a similar way to the previous time near the treasure, however this time, he is able to keep a level head, and manages to save himself. This symbolizes more than anything his character growth, able to rely on himself to help others. He’s finally achieved that light and greatness Silver told him was inside all along. This ability to stop his fall, and confidence as a whole, is due in no small part to Silver helping him earlier in the film. He needed someone who believed in him to push him to become the fullest version of himself, and recognize the greatness he was capable of.

The solar surfer was introduced at the onset of the film, when we were reintroduced to Jim as a teenager. The source of rebellion at the start is now a means he uses to help others, and once he’s safely back on the ship, he lets it go. He’s no longer using it as a means of escapism; his friends now mean more than that did, and he literally lets his past go for them without regret, as his developed character no long has to rely on those methods of rebelling.

This time, when Jim sees Silver preparing to leave, he’s confident enough in himself, and the connection they shared to let him go without memories of the past tearing him down, and visually, without the shadow returning. He lets Silver go, because his self worth no longer lies on the approval of a mentor, but rather on who he is.

Silver also notably turns to wave to Jim as he sails off, for the first time making himself, and this event, entirely separate from his father in Jim’s mind, showing the contrast between the means of support in these figures.

The light and greatness motif comes back in their goodbye, when Silver tells Jim he’s “glowing like a solar fire.”, showing the growth he’s seen in Jim, and, unlike the first time he said something similar to this, Jim genuinely believes him. Not just in a temporary comfort naive way; Jim believe that Silver is speaking the truth, and that confidence pushes him to take a shot at a future he never believed he could have.

This motif makes one final appearance at the conclusion of the film, when he is shown wearing all white, yet another lighter change in his wardrobe in this film. This demonstrates his freedom from any burdens of the past as he finally accepts and learns to love who he truly is, and take daring shots to reach his potential, the one his mother had seen in him since ten beginning. His character arc is now complete, and he can live happily ever after.

#dinsey #disney analysis #film analysis #film review #Disney movie review #treasure planet

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demolover · 4 years

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ive seen ur posts mentioning u have thoughts on queer perspective towards death and how mcr fit into it so. if u ever decide to share other ideas on the topic id love to read it! (i think ur really good at getting your thoughts accross) (u dont have to answer btw i just wasnt sure abt shooting a dm abt this)

it’s been so long i’m so sorry um i have a lot of thoughts idk if u still want them here’s an attempt at a short version...

edit: changing this to under a cut cuz it’s insanely long. if u don’t feel like reading almost 1.5k words probably don’t read it.

basically i think that mortality and death are very common things for all humans to think about and make art about because we’re kinda... obsessed with and extremely afraid of death. which (i think) stems from how death is one of the few things we know is going to happen to us, and yet we can’t understand it really. we know it is the end but we cannot know anything about it because it is the end. so that intrigues us (and makes us afraid) and then u can add in how we see other people in our life die before we do... basically it all adds up to us being obsessed with understanding and defying our own mortality somehow.

we can see this theme in mcr a lot, the interplay between mortality and defiance and hope... i call it hope vs inevitability and i think it’s especially noticeable in bullets and danger days, because in the other two they’re not really fighting so much as existing side by side... i wrote in notes once that in those albums, the hope is in the inevitable...

in black parade it’s pretty much totally like this; after you die you join the black parade, and your memory will carry on. there is fear going into it, but it very much feels like an album accepting and even embracing the end, not fighting it. accepting it and embracing it with this crazy tone... come one come all to this tragic affair. wipe off that makeup, what’s in is despair... (note: i used to think that line was what sin is despair and i still wonder if that was on purpose). revenge is a bit more complex but i have always thought that beyond the hope of getting the girl back, of bringing her back to life (against the end, against death and mortality) there must also be some relief in death for the guy demo lover... if you would kill a thousand men to get your lover back from the dead, would you die to meet them there? <- maybe i’m wrong; there is still hope vs inevitability here.

in danger days and bullets, though, is where i feel like we see those things ultimately fight; in bullets we have this desperate desire to be immortal and mean something, coupled with the strong feeling that you will die with nothing. that you will die. (i have a post on this theme in the song demolition lovers). then, in danger days we see this theme come with this absolute denial of mortality (killjoys never die) coupled with this intense fear of death and being remembered wrong or not at all. and of course this culminates in them dying. (here is my post on this theme in danger days it’s kinda a mess but so is this post so whatever).

right so we’ve established mcr (and humanity in general) is obsessed with mortality we already knew that though. what does it have to do with queerness.

basically there’s a couple things.

1. the connection of both otherness and love with death (note: this also applies to a lot of minorities but queerness is what’s really applicable to mcr specifically). the extent to which mcr intertwines narratives of love and otherness with death and violence is.... a lot. we see it in every album, i believe; it’s most noticeable in bullets in drowning lessons and demo lovers, in revenge in so many songs i’m not going to try to list them, in black parade in cancer, wttbp and my way home is through you, and in danger days in save yourself, only hope for me, and scarecrow. this was just off the top of my head; there’s probably more songs with examples of this.

this is very queer (at least when done by mcr; as most of mcr is white the issues that come with things like the history of interracial marriage, etc. don’t really apply) because of how for queer people our identities and love can be deadly to us... the history of queer love and identity is obviously marked with violence against the people displaying that love and identity.

straight cis white guys don’t usually talk about death with the connection with love at the forefront, at least not that i’ve seen. every once in awhile they do, i guess, if they’re talking about grief, but otherwise, no. demo lovers is my favorite example of the connection of love with death; especially in the first couple verses, the two seem so linked. the first 2 mentions of death or the end in the song are immediately followed by “with you”... “i’d end my days with you in a hail of bullets,” and “i would drive on to the end with you.”

in the whole demo lovers arc, through bullets and revenge, the themes of death and love are so intertwined it’s impossible to untangle them. if i tried to make a post of all the times in revenge death and love are talked about in the same lyric, as if one thing, i would be screenshotting lyrics all night. of course, if we bring in gwgt theory, and start thinking about how the girl and guy demo lovers are a metaphor for gerard’s relationship with his gender, we can go way further with this too. the simultaneous love story involving these parts of himself, and intertwined violence and death. the fear present... the lyrics that talk at the same time about hurting yourself and being hurt by others... but that’s a different post, really. i’m gonna try to stay more surface level. no speculating on metaphors (today).

in black parade i think we see the connection of otherness with death a lot more than the connection with love, although they’re both still present... in danger days the concept of otherness when associated with death is super clear: killjoys defy the city and become something “other,” which is scorned and hated by BLI/nd, and they get killed for it. love is also a pretty common theme in danger days songs, often intertwined with death, though less obviously than in revenge.

2. just... the extent to which this idea of mortality and death and immortality and memory is talked about is interesting in itself i think. this obsession with our legacy and our mortality is present in a lot of stuff, not just queer stuff, but it’s just everywhere in mcr’s discography (and a lot of the subsequent groups of music related to/associated with mcr, which are also often known for being queer). they constantly talk about how they’ll die, and how they’ll die sooner rather than later, and can they live forever anyway, what does immortality mean after all, will they be remembered, what will their legacy be... etc.

memory and legacy is something i haven’t really talked about, but i think it’s also essential to the conversation. for obvious reasons queer people (and people of a lot of other minorities but i’m only talking about the queer part cuz it’s the most/the only applicable thing here) have a more complicated relationship with how we’ll be remembered and whether we’ll be remembered than cishet people do. how mcr talks about this reminds me a lot of the sappho fragment tumblr passes around ever so often... “someone will remember us / i say / even in another time.” (comparison/parallels post of mcr lyrics and that quote by @milfygerard (and added onto by me) here.)

and that brings us back around to the theme of hope vs inevitability... as i mentioned earlier, this theme isn’t necessarily totally queer on it’s own, but as with talking about memory and legacy the way mcr does, if you talk about it so much that it becomes a core theme in all of your albums it ends up feeling a lot more queer than before. hope vs inevitability in mcr’s work connects to love and death and both at once and is just everywhere. and it ends up connecting to the way a lot of queer people think about our death and our mortality and our hope. and how the future and the past are thought about in connection to these themes i think is kind of queer too — when your history is barely spoken and your present is in hiding, of course you look to the future. despite that that means looking towards the ending. and maybe you embrace that ending, because what else is there to do?

i’m very sorry. this was not short. if you have questions, or want to tell me how i’m wrong, or have your own thoughts, do not be afraid to dm me or send me asks please... fascinating topic.

#long post #nonsense #love and death #mcr thoughts file #gender hours once again #asks #hangernhigh #i like ur profile picture!!#death mention #violence mention #ask to tag ???#natasha writes #q slur

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phantoms-lair · 5 years

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Scooby and the Gang having quirks? That would be cool. Like, four superpowered kids and their probably also superpowered dog are amateur detectives instead of heroes. But they frequently run into other pro heroes, (like Scooby Doo team up) and have to help in anyway they can without breaking any quirk related laws. (Which they probably already do on a daily basis but they dont want to do that around pros, could get arrested.)

The signs had been there for quite a while, but none of them had picked up on them. At the time it seemed like another internet hoax. A baby that glowed in Japan. A woman who could create ice in Italy. But in the age of video editing, no one took them too seriously.

It didn’t become real for the gang until about a year and a half after the glowing baby started the craze of people declaring they had super powers. They had been on a road trip and Fred had been repairing a tire when his lug wrench snapped.

“Oh no,” he moaned. A spare tire he had, a spare wrench no so much. “I think we need to call the auto service."

“Like, let me.” Shaggy made a gesture like he was pulling something from thin air and grasped an identical wrench from the air.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, impressed. “You’re wearing short sleeves, so you couldn’t have been hiding it up them.”Shaggy shrugged. “Like dunno, man. I want something, I reach for it, and it’s there.”

“Very funny, Shaggy.” Velma plucked the wrench from his hand. “Carbon steel, just like Fred’s old one.”

“You can tell, just by looking?” Fred asked, even more impressed.

“Certainly. It’s not that hard, you just focus on something and you can tell, you know?”

“No.” came the response from all of them.

“Really?” Velma asked, surprised. “It’s really not that hard.”

“It’s not that it’s ‘not that hard’, Velma. It’s flat out impossible.” Daphne explained, leaning out the Mystery Machine’s window.

“No, it’s not. I do it all the time.” Velma argued back.

“Hey, do you think this could be related to that superhero thing?” Fred asked, a note of excitement in his voice. “With people randomly developing super powers?”

“Fred, that’s not a real thing.” Velma rolled her eyes.

“Well, why don’t you test out whether Shaggy’s ‘power’ works while Fred fixes the wheel.” Daphne offered.

“I’m telling you super powers don’t exist.”

“I can’t believe this exists.” Velma said with tonelessly as she looked at the building in front of her

“Like me either.” Shaggy shuddered. “Like in comic books the government creating a registration list for supers always precedes real bad stuff.”

“At least you guys have it easy.” Fred pointed out “Tell them your power, demonstrate, then you get your registration card. Daph and I have to go through a whole battery to figure out if we even have a power.”

“I guess we meet up back here when we’re done.” Daphne gave them all a hug. “Good luck everyone.”

“I have a power!” Daphne ran out, waving a tiny plastic card. “You know how I haven’t been falling into trap doors as much anymore? I have some kind of radar and I’ve been subconsciously sensing the right way to go.”

“That’s great,” Velma said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster for the laws of physics breaking further.

Daphne knew how she felt, though, and didn’t take offense. “Shaggy’s not out yet? I figured he’d be fast, like you.”

“He was. But someone heard Scooby talking and turns out that’s not normal. So now they’re investigating animals developing powers.”

“What even is normal?” Daphne wondered out loud.

“Not the same as it was five years ago,” Velma agreed sadly.

It was about half an hour later before Fred came out. “Hey, where’re the guys?”“Sweet Freedom!” Shaggy and Scooby all but bounded out of the building.

“That took a while. They really weren’t ready for a dog with powers, were they?” Daphne smiled.

“Nah, they took that pretty well. Even had a metal working guy who could make a dog tag for him.”

Scooby moved his tag aside to reveal a new one under it, identifying him as a Class C Shapeshifter.

“Class C?” Velma inquired.

“Minor body changes, can’t change color.” Shaggy shrugged. “What kept us so long was the lectures.” he groaned.

“Lectures? What lectures?” Daphne looked to Velma and Fred to see if they had any idea what Shaggy was talking about.“‘Creating cash is still counterfeiting’, ‘Don’t make enough gold to crash the economy’. And like, it was heavily hinted I should go easy on making jewels and stuff.”

“I guess your power is kind of easy to abuse.” Fred admitted.

Daphne put a hand on Shaggy’s shoulder. “Diamond’s values are artificially inflated so make as many as you want.”

“Like, I’d rather just go get a hamburger or twelve.”

“At least something still makes sense.” Velma muttered.

“This is really bugging you, isn’t it?” Fred asked.

“Of course it is! Superpowers make no sense. Everyone in the world getting random ones? Even less sense. This is not something science can explain.”

“Yet” Fred added. “This isn’t something Science can explain yet. They’ll figure it out. Who knows, maybe you’ll be at the forefront of the discovery.”

Velma gave a weak smile. “You always know what to say, Jones. Come one, let’s get Shaggy his burgers before he wastes away to nothing.”

Shaggy and Scooby were in the back of the Mystery Machine before anyone could say anything else.

The others laughed and headed to the van. Fred was secretly relieved that everything had distracted his friends from the small plastic card in his wallet. For the most part it was the same as theirs, Photo, State ID Number, Date of birth. The only difference was next to Power: was the word ‘None’.

“I suppose it would become inevitable that the bad guys started using their powers,” Daphne sighed as the illusionist was packed into the back of the police car.

“But we solved it anyway.” Velma was grinning. “We just needed to expand on what we previously considered was possible.”

“And, like, we even did it before the heroes showed up.” Shaggy grinned. Probably the most predictable thing in all this were the real life superheroes starting to show up. New laws were being shaped, but right now it was a little bit of chaos. Still, they lived in a world with superheroes and Shaggy couldn’t help but think that was cool.

Two officers approached them. “Looks like everything all wrapped up. We just need to straighten up something on you statements.” The younger one said kindly.

“On your statements you were asked to write down your powers, but one of you didn’t see the need to comply.” The older glared at Fred who shrunk away.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just-”

“Tell me what your power is, now.”

Fred felt his mind haze over. “I don’t have one. I’m just normal.”

The cop raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? That must feel pretty terrible.”

“It does. I feel like dead weight weighing everyone down.”

“For the love of God, Frank, knock it off.” The younger cop shook his partner and the cloud lifted from Fred’s mind.

He snapped back into reality and realized the gang had closed ranks around him. Velma and Daphne were on either side, Shaggy behind him with a hand on his shoulder, and Scooby in front of him, hackles raised. Then he remembered what the cop had made him say and felt shame start to well up inside him. Sure he had been jealous, but it was okay as long as he never voiced those feelings. Only now someone had taken control of his tongue and forced the words out.

“We should be fine, why don’t you kids head on home.” The younger cop waved them off and pulled his partner away.

“You know none of us think you’re dead weight, don’t you Fred?” Daphne asked softly.

“I know. It’s just in my head.” Fred had never felt so small in his life. “Can we go home? Please?”

The Gang never brought the incident up again. They’d never been specially showy with their powers (or quirks as they were coming to be known), mostly out of deference to Velma’s discomfort. Now it was complete radio silence. Fred was grateful on one level that his friends were that considerate over something so amazing, but still wished Officer Frank had never made him say anything. He couldn’t help resenting the man, and had taken to letting Velma do most of the talking to law enforcement. He felt a little cowardly over it, but figured with Scooby and Shaggy scared of everything under the sun he was allowed this.

They had just figured out the mystery of the ‘Banshee’ haunting the old shack and were at Fred’s favorite part - setting the trap.

“Okay, I think all we need is about a foot more twine and I think this trap is set.” Fred looked at his handiwork proudly.

“Like, bad news, Fred. We’re out of twine.” Shaggy said sadly.

“What do you mean out of twine?” Fred asked. It didn’t make sense. Sure Shaggy couldn’t conjure something like an engine, but twine was barely any effort.

“I brought up everything in the Mystery Machine. There’s none left, man.” Shaggy shrugged.

“But can’t you just make more?”

“Oh. I, like, don’t do that anymore.” Shaggy hunched his shoulders a bit.

“What do you mean you don’t do that anymore? That’s your quirk. It’s- wait.” He thought none of them were talking about their powers. What if-? “Did you guys stop using your powers, because of me?”

The silence that met him told him all he needed to know. “Okay, no. We are not doing this.”

“Fred, if our having quirks make you feel bad, then we don’t need them. You’re way more important to us than that.” Daphne insisted.

“Look. Yes, I’m upset that I don’t have a power. I’ll even go so far as to say I’m jealous that you guys do. But at no point did I want you guys to feel like you had to give up your powers. I mean, there’s plenty else to be jealous of. Velma, you’re so brilliant, sometimes I feel like I can barely add two and two together. It’s hard not to feel plain when Daphne lights up a room with her amazing personality and ability to coordinate an outfit to look as amazing on the outside as she is on the inside. And it would definitely be nice to be able to eat twice my body weight and never worry about gaining a pound like Shag and Scooby do.”

“But I would never want Velma to dumb herself down, Daphne to make herself dull, or Shaggy and Scooby to not eat as much. Because those are quirks of being you, and your powers are a part of that now. You’re all so amazing, and now you’re even more amazing, and I don’t want to take any of that away from you. I know my insecurities are all in my head, but if you guys have to give up parts of yourself for me? Then I really am weighing you down and I refuse to let that happen. Ever.”

Before he knew what was happening, Fred found himself in the middle of a group hug.

“Oh hey, What do you know? Looks like we had more twine after all.” Shaggy slipped the couple of feet of twine he had conjured into Fred’s hand.

“Great.” Fred grinned. “Let’s go catch us a banshee.”

“They’re approaching fast. Shaggy and Scooby are about ten yards away. The Banshee is a yard behind them.” Daphne had her eyes shut as she concentrated on the image her radar was sending her.

“Let us know when they’re clear.” Fred held one rope and Velma the other. With Daphne’s quirk, it was easy to avoid accidentally capturing the boys in their traps.

“Now!”

As Shaggy and Scooby sailed past, Fred and Velma pulled and the Banshee was launched off the floor and into a net, which twisted around before being deposited in a hay baler, leaving the banshee trapped and unable to move.

“Call it in, guys. We got her.”

Soon enough the police arrived, along with a token force from the Hero’s Union.

“As you can see, we’ve caught the so-called Banshee terrorizing the area. Or should I say, Lanie Mayfair.” Velma pulled the mask off the so-called banshee. “She claimed she’d never gone near Baker’s Shack for fear of the banshee, but the soil on her shoes was the exact composition of the mud outside the shack. The feeling of dread and fear people reported were actually a low level psychic quirk that inspired those feelings.” That’s why they had to call in the Hero’s Union. Any crime with quirks used had to go through them. “The Banshee’s wail was prerecorded, and played over a series of speakers, including one hidden in the Banshee’s choker.”

“But we checked the records when the reports first came in. No one currently in the area has a quirk like that.” One of the Hero’s Union reps pointed out.

“Because she kept it a secret. I bet if you looked up Lanie’s records her power would be listed as ‘None’. Lanie’s an experienced conwoman. She knew how useful her quirk would be and pretended not to have one during registration. A quirk like that would be easy to overlook since it wouldn’t produce a visible or physical effect.”

“Very good Velma. But you’re wrong on one count.” Lanie grinned nastily. “It’s not a minor psychic quirk.” That was all the warning they got before a wave of pure despair shot out of her.

Fred felt his knees buckling under him. All those insecurities Frank had brought up, his lower self worth, jealousy, and guilt over being jealous, flooded to the surface once more. But he shoved it down. He had laid those demons to rest. He looked up and noticed everyone else wasn’t faring so well, not even the police or heroes. Most looked full of despair, with some weeping openly. Fred thought Shaggy was doing a little better, only to realize that while he didn’t look miserable, he didn’t look anything, as if there was no life in him.

“See how pathetic you are?” Lanie asked haughtily. “How completely wretched and worthless your life is?”

“Don’t you dare say that about any of them!” Fred snarled, rising to his feet. “My friends are the most amazing people on the planet! They’ve - we’ve put away dozens of low end criminals like you away. I mean, look at you. We’ve got you trapped and your quirk certainly isn’t going to help you escape. Seems we’re doing better than you.”Lanie’s jaw had dropped and the others were starting to rouse from whatever stupor they had been put into.

“We need to get to Fred.” Velma, who had been nearest to Lanie, forced herself up and pushed herself off the baler and towards him. On the way she grabbed Daphne and pulled her along. Shaggy had snapped out of his unresponsive state and he and Scooby were closing ranks too. Fred didn’t think he need the protection, she was still stuck in the bale, after all, but he appreciated having his friends by his side.

“You’re finished Lanie, and your two-bit quirk isn’t going to save you,” Daphne snapped, anger clear in her voice.

“Lanie...Mayfair.” One of the fallen heroes was back on his feet, though shaky. He headed towards the gang. “This is your only warning. Release your quirk.”

“No! How are you doing this?! All of you should be lost to despair! How can you even move!?”

The hero lifted his hand and there was a small zap before Lanie started twitching and the feeling of despair vanished completely. “Alchemist, we’re going to need to keep this one sedated.”

“Right.” The other hero touched Lanie gently. “That should keep her out for the next few hours.” She turned to Fred. “Thank you for your assistance. Without your help, this would have been a mess.”

“I just snapped out of it first.” Fred shrugged. “I was just lucky.”

“Fred, you didn’t just snap out of it first, you drove it back.” Velma corrected. “That’s why I wanted to get everyone near you, you were canceling out the effect.”

“How? I mean I don’t have powers, they ran a bunch of tests to make sure I didn’t have powers. How could I cancel out the effect?”

“We do need a better way to test for Psychic quirks,” Alchemist commented while the police officer worked on getting Lanie out of the bale. “If that’s two missed right here.”

“Two? But I-”

“Fred, you do have a power, it’s just the opposite of that witch’s.” Daphne explained. “I could feel it battling hers, driving away the darkness it was putting in my mind. The closer I got to you, the stronger I felt.”

“Like, no wonder we missed it.” Shaggy laughed. “Feeling better when you’re around just sounds like a side effect of being around you.”

“I...have a power?” Fred couldn’t keep the raw hope out of his voice.

“You do indeed.” Taser clapped his hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s obvious that, unlike Mayfair, you took the tests in good faith. But I think you need to get your registration straightened out as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Sir!”

“I can’t believe this is real.” Fred stared down at the card in his hands. It was identical to the one he’d been carrying around for months, only instead of the word ‘None’ next to Power: it said ‘Morale Boost’.

It wasn’t a flashy or powerful quirk. Certainly not something a hero in a comic book would have. But it was his quirk. Something he had that could help his friends. And he wouldn’t trade it for any other power in the world.

#Ghost Writing #Scooby Doo #BNHA #Decided to set this during Gen 0 #So we have registration cards and the Heroes Union instead of Pro heroes #and why they wouldn't know the the trick to telling an individual with a undetected quirk from someone with none #I decided to go with the quirks I had given the gang in a recent ask and realized iding Fred's would be pretty hard #and th plot went from there #Anonymous

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indomitablemegnolia · 4 years

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I have been dragging this coffin around, like Django, for a while now, and for some reason American politics has to just keep poking at a seeping infected wound; as a psychologist I know that the best way to deal with certain emotions and PTSD is to talk it out, if you can talk past the ragged breaths. Now I am not much of a talker but I do write; I was thinking that maybe letting this out into the world might help someone or perhaps not fatally wound them by reading. I just know I have been keeping all of this way too close for way too long. I am going to try to do this so those who don’t want to know can avoid. I do add a bit of fantasy into it as my own default coping mechanism; so it is not just a barrage of horror. There are triggers... physical pain, blood, rape, and political triggers...this is me screaming into the void. If anyone reads this, I would hope that I could inspire a kind word.

Good god, what fresh hell is this? I swear that sometimes I have to just kick this evil darkness, beat it back, strike out with every weapon I have until it bleeds sunlight; oh, and when that first drop of sun falls I have to keep fighting until I am bathed in that healing glow, smearing it over my face, rubbing it in to my soul; reveling in the warmth of the end of a battle well fought and valiantly one worth the effort. This is always a rough two weeks for me every year for well 19 years now… the tenth falls and it seems some note really minor catastrophe befalls me; there has not been a skip year, a stand out or a delayed year; I will not whine about the past, but for the past three years it has been a political horror show on top of the menial financial, health, or personal failing; I focus on the possible and look up, which usually lands me down a manhole but I can’t change my stripes. In these last three years the shit-show of a congress (and congress is both houses equally guilty) put on these shows of caring and disdain, evil in its fake almost after thought of un-electability. Kavanaugh sent me into a bottomless tailspin; something about a Judge rapist being put on the highest court in the land on the anniversary of my own…attack; not that I think it sits any better in the pit of my stomach any other time of the year, but now… again… and I just can’t breathe, they had made my life all of the things I still struggle to live through… a joke, a pawn, something to leverage each other with… I am sick; politics making life, again, not worth living; nothing mattered, the truth did not matter, their ignorance, their lies did not matter. I find myself feeling rather Wilde; I was left feeling, broken, forgotten, as if I do not belong anywhere; there was nothing to lose myself in and no escape even if there were.

This country, this world, has become such a small, terrible place; I cheat, and I excuse myself, as I escape only by avoiding reality, I love the world that I create; but once there was a moment, out of time, such a terribly long time ago that I bring the memory to life often; for a time I had sunshine, and flowers, mud under my nails and rich coffee and I apologized to no one for who and how and what I am; I live with no thought regularly to why I should not be here and who I should be; yes, I do know that eventually I will die here, being banished to that other world where indeed I know because of the impermanence of life it will be as if I never did exist; every broken molecule of me will parish, every inch, every thought, but one. That molecule, that inch, that thought, its small, its infinitesimal, its worthless if you asked most, but in this world of whit and worry it is the only thing worth having; it is worth all the worlds in all the universes. I cannot lose it; I can not barter it or sell it and above it all it should never be given away. This world must get better, it must stop getting lost in all the things that are not real, such as money, race, all the false differences we draw between us; there is only one true thing about this world, there is no escape, so make your difference here and now. I must tell you, now that you see me, you know part of my life, my story and because of that I hope you understand that I Love you. I love you, despite never knowing your story, we may never meet, never laugh or cry together and I will never kiss or hug you, but I love you as dearly as my universe, as closely as a flesh and blood friend.

I love you.

It has been so many years, I hardly talk about it, but I warn you now this gets a bit graphic, but it is my story; this story is not being told for anyone else's campaign; it is not a #metoo. This is me taking a psychological victory, screaming my pain into this void like echo chamber; I know no one may hear me, and that is fine. This is one of Dante's hells I live in, wrapped deliciously in my favourite personal coping mechanism a piece of detached fiction that reads like a conversation between my super ego and my Id....

I sought freedom, the only freedom to be had in this world, music loud, the delicious truth of life’s simplicity; music is a true elixir, ideally it should be listened to at 60-80 decibels and 70 mph; everything can be made right if you just put the music on and the top down, drive 85 mph on a country road, as if you are trying to out run time itself. The sun low in the western sky; fat fluffy gray clouds float lazily over a layer of black, brooding, formidable clouds rolling in like the undaunting wall of night, mocking the artificial azure sky that lays at the last eighth of the sky, about to be swallowed up. Music playing too loud, I sang atonally along; the cool breeze of autumn playfully ruffled my hair as if I resided in a third visible universe in one place unattached to the storm or the artificial sunny day. The little silver dream I drove was cutting through the country side; coming up on a slower moving rusted out pick-up truck I worked the gearshift, not laying off the gas, dropping to fourth to pass, galloping ahead hard and fast, leaving the truck behind.

Suddenly, for the first time in ages the world almost made sense, err, I suppose it is awkward saying that because the sense it made was tenuous and momentary at best. Escape possible only by way of ignoring the horrors; after a week like the last, a little sensical nonsense was called for. I had to get away, I had to distance myself from the news and the bluster, the horrible reality; the reminders that weighed my heart, slammed my soul, obliterated my psyche; in my home, my home, the country I love, whose founding documents read of words like truth and justice; a vicious criminal is appointed to the highest court in the land; a man accused of raping three women; a charge that not so long ago would have precluded his admission; but that was then and this is now, basically more of a wild west, kangaroo, dumb-fuckery idea of conscience; we are now a people who allow the separation of children from parents, to be kept in cages. Now, because of this stupidity, people treating justice like a partisan football; horrible happenings from my past are brought front and center of my subconscious every night as I sleep. Yes, I have read books and listened to tapes as to how to guide dreams, none have prevailed.

Letting my mind wander, it was dangerous; and yes, it circled back to last night’s bout with Fate, Christ, she hit me hard and fast; for a figment of my imagination she really left me bruised, broken, bloody; I can still taste the sickly copper iron flavor of blood in my mouth, my soul limping. First. she took me on a trek into the past; tiny, horrible, years ago; Jesus, I realize, if this nightmare I carry heavy in my mind were a child it would be graduating high school; oh god, the thought, the kind that should never be thought; after, I was sentenced to a more vile prison, to a sentence more than double theirs, I see no possibility of parole from this place. I feel as if I were slowly being eaten alive; Fate, she held my face to the fire, she made me watch and relive it, over and over and over again.

I despise the fact something as delicious as this breeze can trigger panic, terror, horror; this feeling was, twice upon a time, in the valley of faded fears, my favourite season, now it sits heavy on me, like a box of babies tears. Though now, it is that recurring nightmare, I try to break free, but as he said in The Godfather ‘every time I think I am out, it drags me back in.’ I feel so pathetic, seriously, I earned my PhD in psychology, trying to outfit myself with all the tools; I should have been able to drown this demon long ago, but alas, I find the zombie bastard can swim; argh, and yes, I know that isn’t possible, no one can fight off all the memories, it's impossible to erase events, for anyone, most especially me.

Out of the blue it seems, a wonderful friend, a friend one which I didn’t know I still had; sadly I assume that I am always left behind, but she sent me in a tailspin of introspection; she asked me simply, 'are you okay?' A real flesh and blood human asked me, she noticed, she pointed out that I am not acting like myself; I have been tearing myself down, doubting the simplest things, I have even, in an odd way, seeking her approval; asking permission to hang my own pieces on my wall, my usual 'it's easier to ask forgiveness, than seek permission', attitude gone.

Gods, she is right, I know she is right; I am acting weird, different, calling myself stupid, pathetic, worthless; at first it started just stupid, small, subtle... most people bought that I was fine, they never saw it... I think. Anyways, they never called me on it. This friend, this good friend called me on it; I wrote a piece out of my usual character, at first, I loved it; then the next day in a mercurial hissy fit, I ripped into it, then in another flip I apologized for it, I am acting like a kid caught lying, obvious, blatant, guilty. This friend, ah, this beautiful friend called me on all my shit; like that guilty child, my psyche tried to hide it, then I stopped, I looked, really, I am. Then this introspection brought me to the realization that at times, not always, very rarely, I get weird, almost puritanical about sex. Usually I have a very laissez faire attitude; bi, straight, whatever flavour of the lgbtq or any other spectrum, if you get off on it, if you like it, then it's beautiful; there are people I love on all levels of depravity. It may even seem to them that I am a touch prudish because I do not partake, that is fine. Because this friend, this wonderful friend, shined a light, I could again see the bruises fate had left.

Fate had asked me, "so, if it is all good, what gets you off?" With that I was lost, nothing; everything; how was I to know? Of known experiences I have rape (not awesome) and a failed relationship (asshole never understood a thing I said, then tried to recreate experience #1); yup, two times lose on those. I know what I need, no desire, no require; with all the horrible mediocrity in this world that we seem to accept as fair sacrifice, I will not let love be among those. I want epic love, mad, passionate, crazy, undying, span the universes kind of love; anything less will be a poor substitute, meaning I can not, I will not let her take that from me; this is just one of those turns where nothing goes well. She shook me, and god, I had let Fate affect me.

The moment she reared her ugly head was pain. I was lost in a soft dream of sweet remembered soft kisses. Suddenly, a hit to my face, my eye starting to swell; a doubled fist to the gut, air rushed out in a horrible half scream. A hand wrapped in my hair slamming my head into a stony ground, again, that horrible haunting memory. Her voice chilling in a predatory growl, she wanted blood. She taunted me, "I KNOW what you wrote, hmmm, I know what you enjoyed, I told you; you can admit it, just to me, no one else is listening;" She ground her hips into mine from behind, "I know that you liked it, you loved it; I wonder, did you reach orgasm? Was it earth shattering? Did you moan like a whore?" Fate, that horrible bitch, licked up from my jaw to my temple, I stopped the urge to vomit, I felt my hate multiply, but in seconds I felt a turn inward, "You know that the hecklers are still right;" she raked her pelvis suggestively against me, three more thrusts.

"No, but it seems to get you off, dry humping me; hmm is the bitch in heat? So ya like my ass? I have been working out." She slammed my face down into the stone.

I let a painful groan escape, "You like the rough trade."

"Oh yeah," I ground out lifting my head turning to face her, "about as much as I like you."

She laughed cruelly, standing slamming her foot into my kidney. “Look at you, still so pathetic, still that laughing clown punching bag, you are always such fun; there is a lot to be said about consistency," slamming her boot into my jaw. "If it was not the roughness, the pain, was it the team effort? Now, remind me how many was it that you liked? Four or five? How many holes were the putting it into?" She ground her heel onto my palm, I try to stop the noise, a near scream, "how many holes?"

I smiled showing my blood outlined teeth, "This many." I held aloft a single middle finger.

Fate came to torture my soul time and again, with unlimited creativity; it has happened more than a few times in recent days; using more taunts, planting more doubts, inflicting more pain; cracking open my soul leaving it weeping and bereft. The more it happened the more I began to believe that she was right; yes, maybe I really enjoyed it; then I didn’t take the moment needed to breathe before I reacted this time out of emotion, gut check. She was right, they were all right; it was all I deserved; I asked for it, I had enjoyed it. Though that moment of introspection given to me by a gorgeous friend, gave me time to recognize this is actually an extreme rendition, interrogation tactic, the kind used in interviews at Gitmo; some good interrogators can even implant false memories, causing false confessions.

I woke from the nightmare; I gathered my own thoughts. I had to run; I had to hide. I hated; I hated the world and all the people in it, I hated myself and most of all I hated all this wasted time. If I had known Life before would I blame him, hate him… yes, right now, in fact I do.

I drove faster, not even slowing at bends in the road; why was I running? What good could it do? I know can not escape when the horror is inside my own skull. The green leaves starting to turn gold, some starting to age red at the edges. I whisked through the countryside, far too fast; it was liberating. God, this is my favourite season; there is something so sultry and libidinous about fall; I let go of the wheel, raising my arms joyous in the air. The feeling, the smell, the look, it seems to get my heart racing and my mind reeling; in pure celebration of the seasons change, the bite to the wind and the trill of cinnamon to the air, senses that are so much Life, oh me, oh my, oh my favorite things. Dark chocolate, eaten slowly, savored and enjoyed; passionate literature read in a hot bath tub that requires an entry like bugs bunny getting into the boiling cauldron; music, so many lovely perfect kinds of music, hard hitting, rampaging, soothing and truly sensual all appreciated savored and enjoyed… Please, Life... I need you. Why don't you come? I call to you, I miss you.

Before even fate showed the aphasia really affected my self-confidence; I no longer had my words, I constantly sounded either stupid or drunk or both, that had shaken me to my core; with both of those, it changed my own reactions. Then America, my home, is not helping, the president mocking a rape survivor, his little toadies backing him up. It just tore a hole in my psyche, in my soul, letting all these demons back. This is not me really... but what is me?

For me, after the attack, the police, they never doubted; the bruised and bloody the evidence abounded, they had no trouble even finding the culprits, but the faculty, the students... not so kind... I heard the whispers, they never looked at me, not the real me, I was just a disregarded scrap.

My lips hurt, they were cracked in two places, my ribs were bruised, all making me wonder if Fate was more than just my horrible subconscious. More than the conscience that makes a coward of me; makes me want to run for the shelter of a strong set of arms. My foot slacks off the gas pedal; I was losing my will to run, I realized that I was not able to run from this kind of mountain.

"Why can't you hear me?!” I yelled at the building clouds so hard my throat ached; they were heavy with rain. I saw the edges of refracted rainbows as they slid slowly in front of the sun.

Soft, so close to my ear, I felt the breath of Life. "But I did."

I swerved, nearly off the road, I screamed, slamming in the clutch not touching the brake, cutting the wheel sharply, putting the car into a full 360 spin, it almost came to a rest. "Jiminy Cripcity Roosevelt Christmas, man. You could have just killed me." I collected my galloping heart, letting the clutch out in 3rd gear screeching off the tires. He laughed, his words sunk in slowly, I understood his words and they angered me, I slid the gearshift into 4th, without the clutch; "Yeah, right, you heard me, sure. So, what you are saying that as usual when the world begins using me for a toilet brush, I am on my own; lemme guess, all for character building I am sure. Just go, I do not need you anymore. Just get out." I leaned into the gas, not caring the speed, anger making my eyes begin to run.

"What the hell was that?" He reached his hand over, gripping mine, "wound a little tight their honey; let’s get you relaxed” he started rubbing the inside of my wrist, my breathing slowed. "I wish, with every ounce of power I have, I wish I could have come when I heard your cries, they caused an ache in me so cutting so horrible, I cried. I don't know how I heard you or how I am here now."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." I jeered my hand waving him away. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, his expression was so hurt, “God, I shouldn't have mocked... I’m just angry, but not at you,” I took a long breath, “I am sorry" I whispered, easing off the gas.

"Then just stop, pull off the road, talk to me."

I sighed seeking that cognitive reset. "Okay." There was a wooded turn out just ahead. I pulled the car over, stalling out, killing the engine. I rolled my eyes internally; it has been ages since I stalled out. I swiped the little tears away. "So, what? What is it that you want?" My jaw set. "What?"

He sighed, seeing this was going to be an uphill battle; he reached for my hand bringing the palm to his lips; instantly my jaw slacked, and air rushed from my lips, "I missed you." He kissed the tender pad of my palm. "I know you have been in pain. Tell me what caused it; tell me haunts you." His fingers still softly drawing hypnotic circles on my wrist.

"Ah, pain, but where to start? We could do a chronological study into the beginning of pain; it might take a while." I try to sound unbothered.

"Where this pain, your pain, the one that has had you screaming, where that pain started." His face so beautifully earnest, and there is an importance to being earnest. “Please…” he breathed

"Words, it always begins with words, then those sticks and stones; they come hard."

He let one hitched chuckle out, "Wow, what a cop out." He dared.

I breathed again, then let it out slow, "Dammit really?” he nodded, “shit, with this whole 'legitimizing rape' floating around, taking even the one recourse for a victim of said crime has if it takes an unlucky turn. They have the audacity to mock and berate a survivor of a crime, I have seen them, mock hurricane victims, the disabled, they come just shy of saying that they want all of us defectives to die they put a rapist on the high court, now this monstrosity that will end my only piece of mind. My…" he held up his hand.

Clicking of his tongue stopped me. "No, not what I asked for Joan of arc, I was asking for the story, for this pain I see in your eyes, not a history of the worlds ills. I want your story."

"Eg, yeah, but that’s not important, it's really not even worth telling."

"Just stop; stop with the bullshit, stop deflecting; I want to hear your story, please, just tell me the goddamned story.” He gritted his teeth, “sorry, but I hate when you make light of yourself; you are making fun of my favourite person in the world, I am sorry just, please, just tell me."

"Cheese and crackers man, it is a horrid little pathetic thing. But fine." I take a breath, “Shit, my story…" I could not form the words. "hey, what’s better I could just tell you the tale of the little engine that should have known better, but still did it anyway.”

"No," he watched me closely, not letting his impatience show "I want to know your story, your pain, please."

"Shit, shit, shit, OK, shit... dammit," I hit the steering wheel, I pressed my forehead into the hard surface of the wheel, "but don't say I didn't warn ya. Shit” minutes passed, I said nothing.

He reached over holding my shoulders, "Honey, nothing that would make you too nervous to say, could be a waste of time, you are that fearless girl that never holds her tongue. Trust me, I think I can help." His thumb rubbed tenderly.

"I am neither fearless, nor am I a girl; I am a right old horrible spinster," I huffed, I fiddled with my fingers. I looked in his eyes; “I am" I stopped gathering my thoughts; "I don’t think you will like this as well as you think; I know what will happen after its all out, so, I must preface with a goodbye, you have been lovely. I know your opinion of me will slip; you won't want to know me after I finish, so thank you." He looked doubtful, but I knew, gods, I will miss him. "Before I start, I want to say, even if it means nothing to you, if no one ever tells you, I love you." A tear streaked from my eye, "What am I? Nothing," he shook his head vigorously, "look at me, I know most don’t think much of me, red round cheeks and usually a smile, no makeup and holes in my jeans; I have been told many, many, times after having conversations with people that my Naivety was endearing, but if I had ever encountered the real world my outlook would become as jaded as theirs. I may act like I have encountered nothing but sweetness and light in a noodle salad life, but that is far from the truth. I believe that you can encounter the worst that life has to offer and choose your reaction to it. You can stop believing in the world around you or you can continue to believe in kindness, understanding, and trust. Some say it is just denial, burying my head in the sand that allows me think that life is still what we make it… I Laugh and Laugh… If they knew what this girl, well, shit, here you go. Enough wasting time, I will get down to it. It's a shit story..." I wiped my hands down my face, the a swipe under my nose with the bad of my hand, then on my thighs, "shit," I sighed out, “Too many years ago it was a bright sunny day; a warm fall morning with a light breeze. I was worried about a calculus test; the biggest thing on my mind were cos A and sin B. I was on the phone ironing out a scheduling problem; I was talking to my internship mentor on the first cell phone in my family, dad got it for my safety because of my commute 90 miles to school. Jabbering on about what, I don’t even remember, I reached into the back seat for my bag. Sighing and hanging up the phone, preparing for the day ahead, or so I thought." I took a steadying breath, I had evaded long enough; I couldn’t meet his gaze, I just stared straight ahead out the windshield. "Suddenly, horribly brutality was introduced into my life; the surprise really isn’t as horrible as the feeling of helplessness; I was still bent closing the door with my hip I started to heft my book bag; my head caved in the rear door of my car; you should have seen it, truly impressive the damage a cranium can do." I remain in this protective tone, details curtailed "I was knocked out cold; I slowly came out of my haze I felt pain, searing horrible pain, but not my head, I heard ripping material; I smelled blood my blood; flying back to reality and I know what is happening, the animal grunting and horrible rhythm; pain, it’s between my legs; no one had ever been there before;" I heard Life take a savage breath, it was nice to know someone cared, even if it was just for show. I wiped the dampness from my face again.

"They raped me, I did not count or really anything." I tried to laugh it off, "they beat me, pulled my hair, god, one stood one foot on my head so I couldn’t move and urinated on my face as that other one finished, they called me whore, and cum bucket, and worse; every part of my body was used and abused; I lost, my hands blindly flail, I try to kick. I was savaged by animals I use the term loosely. They ransacked my car as they took turns, seeing my viola in the trunk and to punish me for fighting they crushed my left hand, they kicked me, beat my head into the pavement repeatedly. When they had finished with me and my car, the cruelest one of them, pulled the scarf wrapped around my neck and strangled me, they murdered me, and I do have to say part of me did die. As they did they laughed, god, they laughed, horrible laughs, they creep into my conscious when anything goes awry. I lost consciousness, I guess they assumed I died, I woke, I don’t know how much time passed, but I woke in a pool of blood and …err other, I got in my car and drove to the security station on the bottom level… yeah." I shook. He rubbed my hand; I pulled away quickly, I could have spit on him, but it was not him the anger belonged to. "What is madness but nobility of soul, at odds with circumstance?"

"My god, I was expecting bad, but my… my heart, it is broken” ready to face the loss of him, I turned, I watched his face as the light died in the low, dark, rain swollen clouds; a delicate falling rain drank in the dusk; it felt like it swallowed my misery whole and for that I was grateful; shrouded in silence, the branches of the trees above wrapped me in their stoic peace. Shadows fell across us the boundaries lost their edges, as the borders were erased, once again the wonder if I had ever really existed. His presence was always so elegantly reassuring, and still I had to remind myself it was not him I was so mad at.

"Yeah, so, how was that for a hard luck story? The first time I have told anyone since I left the police station. Not exactly Disney Channel friendly, but I am waiting to hear back from lifetime." I laughed; the sound was hollow. "Peachy side, I didn't end up knocked up or diseased; so, maybe the universe heard that plea." I sniffed, my frustration returning. He trailed his hand lightly down my damp cheek. I flinched away, shy, stupid, embarrassed, "pretty pathetic, huh?"

He shook his head. "Shh, stop that please, you don’t have to mock yourself in that Cyrano de Bergerac style you always use; you are not beating me to a punch line, I was never going for one” he ran his hands over his face, “did you not hear your story? My heart is broken." I tried to look away; his gentle hands coaxed my gaze back. "I heard a story of survival, those monsters tried to end you; here you are, fight intact, undaunted, truly indomitable, the rest just damaged facia."

I looked in his eyes, "Fate has been taunting, mocking me, whispering that I liked the assault,” I stopped, hesitating, “that has me doubting everything."

His face skeptical, eyebrow raised, "And you believe those taunts?" He shook his regal head.

Temper sparked, "kind of,” I stopped, feeling stupid, I bristled, “I do, okay. So what?"

"Why?" He cajoled. "Really, tell me why; the whole truth answer." He sat back like Cesar at the gladiator games, "hold nothing back, I can take it."

Apparently, he was satisfied that I was soundly kicking my own ass. "I wrote out, an imaginary tryst, you and I, we were on a boat, it was just delicious, an escape, there was a touch of rough to it... some of the details were... similar to... that." my voice stopped working. "I liked it a lot, but then I got overwhelmed, confused; how can I like that, without liking the other. The reality of that implication," I sniffed, fluttering my hands; that horrible weird guilt weighing my soul, I knew it was just my own psyche, but it was horrendously irresistible; I stopped I gave up; "shit, now you know; you know… everything why I am so deplorable... grotesque... disgusting." I rolled my eyes closed, I concentrated on my breathing, minutes clicked by finally I opened them, expecting that he had blew away on the breeze.

I met his gaze, I saw no pity, no disgust; I saw him, just Life. Confused, I searched further, still none.

"You are not. You know better than most that feelings can be deception; sex, isn't just soft, isn't just rough, it is never one flavour; it is the connection, the intention." He ran his hands through my hair. Pressing it back behind my ear the way I like it. "Honey, there is no equation between your rape and having a touch of rough in a fantasy. It does not mean you liked being helpless, beaten, or broken, the intention there was viciousness; there was no connection there, no trust" he sighed.

I gave a derisive chuckle, "right."

He dropped my hand, pulling away, gaining my full attention. "You apparently have made up your mind not just for you but also what I would think; you really must be magic; I think you would be surprised by what I think.”

I let a derisive chuckle out, “Sure because you are some kind of paragon.”

“I wouldn’t say paragon, but I heard every word you said. It made me so mad that you would think that way about you.” I rolled my eyes. He growled, and good god something in me was listening, something found the sound so delicious that it made me tingle; I scanned his eyes, there was still softness there. “Honey, look, I heard a story of an invasion, a horrible, massive invasion. I don't care if you were splayed naked on a table saying, 'come and get it big boy, give it to me hard,'” I let a snerk of laughter out at the idea. “if it was not the specific person you were talking to; that was an invasion. You cannot discount a rougher, needy kind of love making; accepting carnal love rougher more animal in its display requires trust in the intention of the other party, it is not simply the actions; Accepting love rougher, that act of trust is never more shameful or dirtier; it is a communication telling the other party, I trust you to be just this much, but no more; the instant you voice a dislike and it continues it becomes the other; it’s all up to you, whatever is pleasing to you, only you. There is no right, there is no wrong, no disgusting or dirty; sex is all about the feeling, expressing.” I understood what he was trying to say, but I really didn’t want to hear it, I knew he was trying to placate me, I tried to ignore him; “Don't be like a velvet glove cast in iron, dealing only in absolutes." I had to look away, “love is love, is love, is love, and it all matters” the storm gaining strength, he released the top and pulled it up; kissing the top of my head as he passed. "Sweeting, the space between absolutes..." he sighed, "remember, you said that is where you had chosen to live, you were right, it is the place where life happens." He ran his hands through his hair; his frustration evident, then a light hit his eyes; "I would really like to read this fantasy, curiosity leads me to wonder," he chuckled, "I just wonder if it would match up to any of mine." I shot him a skeptical look. “oh, honey; I have had so many fantasies since the first time you appeared.”

I had no words to say, I just sat watching him, waiting for the change.

He sat, looking at me, the storm began to rage, much like the maelstrom that had been inside me for so long; I pulled the piece up on my phone handing it to him. We were more than damp, I noticed I had been shivering; for how long, no one knows. I sat watching the storm split the sky; I started the car, flipping a bitch, starting back in the opposite direction; he was deeply ensconced in my words, he reached over with out looking up, turning on the heat, directing the vents at me.

I shot him a look, just a glance; but what I saw. God, the power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that I had never believed in its power; no one now dares to say that two beings have fallen in love because they looked at each other. Yet, an unguarded look can tell you so much, love, despise, languor and fear; tenderly in his exquisite look, I saw the most gorgeous thing, understanding; an acceptance. I was astonished, I was bewildered, dizzy, in a daze; I still did not understand, I began wondering what universe he was from... My stomach panged, rumbling as loud as the storm, I ignored it.

"Hey, can you pull in up there, you need something to eat." There was a neon sign in the distance, that advertised barbeque, I was surprise he could even see if as he didn’t look up from my words. I pulled in, reading the sign that promised barbecue and drinks, after all it was Texas, a bourbon sounded just right. I pulled in and parked; I was a numbed, near depressed but electrified, dumbfounded, impressed and slightly aroused; all the roiling emotions had my jaw clenched, I was disassociated, separated, on autopilot. My feet moving me through the rain, but I was a cloud of confused emotion; a stranger in a strange land; emotion was not my wheelhouse. Wandering idly toward the door; passing the columns, he gripped my shoulders almost punishingly. He spun me to face him, his face dark and serious, I began shivering, he pressed me to the wall. His face serious, but the passion burned; again, that growl, it hit the bottom of my stomach, warming, making my legs shake; he kissed me, suddenly, deeply, no warmup, no cuddling into my lips just immediately lips and tongue. Tucking his knee between my legs pressing hard, soft mewling left my throat caught in his mouth. He pinned my arms to my sides I tried to touch him, but he wouldn’t yield, he wanted to kiss me, his way; and yes, I liked it, he ran his tongue along the roof of my mouth, I moaned softly into his mouth, rocking gingerly against his knee; the visceral feeling. He started to deepen the kiss even more, his knee caressing, moving with intention. A quiet shudder rocked me. He sucked in a deep controlling breath, resting his forehead against mine, staring deeply into my eyes; I shook like a leaf as we parted. Shaking I clung to his shoulders.

"Now, kitten, did you feel my intention, to bring you pleasure?" I nodded, "was there pleasure?" I bit my lip, a small smile creeped, I nodded. "You know, the fact that you know the horrible purity of absolute, pure despair; doesn’t mean that is all there is in this universe." He kissed me again, faintly. He passed his fingertips over my skin, almost without touching an experience that neither of us had expected or experienced before, the miracle of feeling myself in another body, "Now, did you feel that?"

"Yes," I whispered, I was shadow pinned against a sweating wall; needing more, my soul pleading for more, but I was frozen; "Oh there was a moment there; oh me, oh my; as you began a whisper of that kiss; clearer than any whispered words; god there was something there that makes it all worthwhile; that was the edge, hmm, the edge is what I have; truth of this fiction, it's the edge of flavour that makes the difference.” I giggled, “there was a time when I would speak words that made sense." I giggled.

"Yes. But what truth is there in sense?" He laced my fingers with his and pulled me after him; we walked in me confused actually wanting to go back to being pinned to that wall, we walked in. The waitress took us to a booth; I slid in first, I gasped in surprise as he slid in next to me on the same bench. He ordered me a bourbon and an order of fries; I sat there blinking, he then turns me to face him, he leans in close whispering deep and low; his breath warm on my neck, "When we are young we felt we are invincible; as we age we find ourselves, second guessing, always thinking twice." As he spoke, he planted little kisses on my neck; “I am done with that, I thought I was done paying my dues, same for you; now, I find that I have something I do not want to lose. The day you came into my life I changed again, fear still there, but also a cacophony of joy, both at odds, now every day now is just a grateful roll of the dice." His hands skimmed over my arms as they draped around his neck, freely delicious. "I look at that, it is working; you are starting to hear me; I like you, feel powerless in the lonesome times, thinking to myself 'dear god what have I done?' But with you here..." biting the edge of my ear, "you can run baby, you can try to hide, but whatever comes it will find you. For us, there is now; yesterday is history, an hour from now, no one knows for sure; but baby right now it's just you and me and that kiss, it said a lot." He turned me to face him.

Our drinks and fries came and I took a long drought, I laughed cuddling close, I felt young, I felt alive, and I really had never felt that way, “Are we mad?" he looked wounded, "but the good madness, the change the world madness."

"I want to just hold you tight; right now, we can make this moment last; don't think about anything other than helping you forget about the past, for just a moment if needs be." His kissed me slow, long deep caresses with his tongue; I tried to match him, I was awkward at first, but he led me in a natural rhythmic motion.

I missed feeling him, tasting him, gods, it was like breathing. I kissed him with everything I had. "You know, your fantasy, it was gorgeous." He kissed me again, his hands cupping my cheeks, tilting my face for a new angle. He broke from my mouth kissing down my neck. "I have sailed a 20-foot catch; I have had some very similar thoughts, but I loved that very forward confident you that you wrote."

I fumbled with my hands trying to make him feel some of what I was. "Have you really imagined us together as well?" My fingers sliding through his hair. He nodded, “I kind of assumed you were so out of my league."

He laughed, the sound rippled along my nerves; "oh, kitten, you have no idea who you actually are. Yes, I have, so many things I have fanaticized about."

I pulled away to see his eyes, they held no lie; "Even now?... after?"

He looked shocked, "Especially now." He said with conviction.

"Tell me one," I was breathless.

He held my had looking into my face, "Happily, but I would rather show you. I long to grab your hand and run to the motor inn across the parking lot, get a room." I looked out the window over his shoulder gnawing on my kiss swollen bottom lip.

"Mmm, story first," I stood firm.

"OK then, well, I suppose I could tell you about the one where you are the aggressor; holding me down using me as you will." He shook his head, "no, the one where I am the aggressor, holding you down? Kissing you slowly, teasing your nerves, dipping my fingers into you, feeling you shiver; nah, you don't look keen on that, eating chocolate ice cream off of your skin;” I really shivered, “maybe another time; I suppose, I could tell you about how I dreamt of kissing you, teasing you, then bend you over this table licking all the way up the back of you thigh and... no, no, not that one. Kitten, come here." He pulled my leg up so he could slide closer, fitting just between. "You have to use your imagination; I dream of laying you down, kissing you so hard, it takes your breath away; I want to make out with you like a teenager out passed curfew." He caressed my trembling bottom lip with his thumb. "I would get lost in your kisses; intoxicating, enticing, articulate, telling me exactly what you want, how you want it; using only the tip of your tongue you draft a treatise." He toyed with my hair idly, my eyelids began to sag half-mast; passion building in my body, "Wowzah, that scorching look in your eyes, so intent, you are so Wildely beautiful; why, oh why do you squash that want, fighting it like a foe, a weakness; please, just... let it free."

His hand began caressing my neck, I could not have stopped myself from rolling my head, so my neck was wide open for his lips. His tongue. "I love kissing your neck, licking, taking little bites, right here." His fingers wisping passed the place where neck meets shoulder, my bones melted; he smiled mischievously, shot me a naughty look wiggling get his brows. He slid his fingers along my neckline, his touch whisper soft; his voice low, rumbling, deep, "deliberately I descend along your succulent curves;" my body raising to meet his fingers, straining for attention. "I watch you arch your back, just like that; I can't take my time learning; your heaving breasts wanton for attention, nipples like diamonds," oh and they are, his two fingers caress along the crevice between my breasts. My breathing hitched, coming in soft pants, his eyes gorgeous reverent. "I reveal the state in which I see your nerves are in; rampaging, greedy, alive for just a whisper of a touch; oh, but I want more" he sunk in closer, enjoying the slight shake of my shoulders. His hot mouth kisses just behind my ear, his tongue licking along my skin; his lips playing with the cords in my neck as I let out a sighing moan, just a solitary note; his fingers toying with the area of my soft sweater, just over my the area of my nipple. "Your belly covered with barely visible downy hairs, soft, soft, so soft;" he slipped his fingers of his other hand up under the hem of my sweater, just above my waistband; his first hand dropping to my thigh, dipping between rubbing with soft curious fingers; the nail of his wide thumb, scraping along the seam between; "they are standing up because of the goose bumps I just made." His fingers velvet soft over my skin, I try clamped my thighs together he keeps that from happening. "Pushing passed the band of your jeans, I reach for what I crave the most." His second hand skimming a rougher scratching fingernail along the seam; his other fingers just trace along the skin along the edge of the bottom of my bra, his lips kissed along my neckline. "I would make you moan," I squirmed, "I would form a symphony of your empassioned calls, all the delicious sounds of satisfaction; I will be ruthless in my intent, pleasure my only goal; releasing you from the past, my hope. I know you will want to run, to escape, but at the same time you will be wanting more;" he pulled back, "more; look at you, breathtaking, deliciously titillated. Your cheeks flushed, you lips slightly parted; eyes glossy, erotic, steamy, fervid, seductive, coaxing, shameless; saying every want your lips refuse." Pulling at the hem of my sweater, "I want to slip my hand under your panties, sliding my fingers across your damp skin. God, I have wanted that for so long" His fingers ghost over my skin, reaching the edge of my satin bra; his lips crashed into mine, his kiss demanding, delicious, scalding; his hand enveloping my breast; his thumb rubbing delicately, I react honestly. I grabbed his wrist of his hand that was resting on my thigh, pulling his fingers to my mouth, sucking. The clench in my belly responding to his hand slipping under my bra. I pull away, gasping; I stand, dropping a ten on the table.

"Shit, I am sorry," his breath laboured, his face recalcitrant, "I pushed too far, too fast; I am sorry; so, where are we off to?" He looked disappointed, sad.

"Well, I decided, you are right," viciously, I let that hang in the air; “you should just show me. Our direction, over there," I pointed out the window to the inn.

He looked like a child at Christmas, he grabbed my arm tossing me over his shoulder, I giggle and squeal, he moved quickly to the door. We were out and across the parking lot swiftly, he was running; the rain drenching us; he dropped me to my feet under the awning. "I'll be right back."

I watched him fill out the forms, pay the woman, and he bounded back. "We will make, new experiences, giving you back all the power. Let’s roll." Pulling me over his shoulder again; I squealed, I laughed; he slapped my rump, I moaned.

And outside it was October Country . . . that country where it is late in the year and everyone is tired and waiting for that one good thing to break; country where the amber hills covered in fog, rivers are mist and ice; where noon shortly proceeds sundown, twilights linger, and mid-night’s stay; geese and dusks on their parade to the south; dilled carrots and jams are lined into cellars, sweaters, coats, jackets, are cycled to the front of closets, boots and gloves to the entry way, coffee and tea served hot and steamy with fresh cookies and it seems for a season everything faces away from the sun. October people, think October thoughts and wish that the Christmas stuff would remain hidden for another season, and passing nights, cool, bundled in warm socks and a large sweater walking or listening to the light rain on the tin roof hoping the winter doesn’t kill hope

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incorrecttwoset · 4 years

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Lesson time with Dani:

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I think the thing we all learned here today is classical music is still very, VERY much alive. And that pop could be a pretty iNtEreStInG way to indoctrinate introduce people to classical music. I've been listening to a bunch of pop lately and honestly? It was a WEIRD experience. I kept getting befuddled by the amount of music there was (3 minutes of catchy beats is nOTHING against a half hour of intense musical dialog, argument, and passion) and the repetitiveness and simplicity of it (like dude wheres the motif? Is the motif your beat? Why is it playing the same thing over and over? Huh?). But, its still good music. There were a couple outliers too, that really gave me an experience. (Check out seasonal feathers by hitoshizuku it broke my heart) Look, what im trying to say is- classical and pop are both amazing genres of music that can do incredible things and I'm just happy that they can coexist together in one... piece? Of music. (My opinion might be a lil different compared to my lesson time on their other vid but hey people change)

So, lets get on with the songs!

Road to Kingdom - T. O. P. (Covered by Golden Child) and Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky. I... honestly, I didn't hear it at first. The electro music covered up much of the phrase. (please forgive my horrible usage of musical terms im just a kid thats really into classical music, in still learning how to understand and appreciate it everyday mkay?) Well, that's what I thought at first but I guess the transition from electro pop to singing along with classical jarred me so much that I had to listen to it a couple times before catching it. Anyways, the singing kinda vibed a lil with the music but when they changed singers or went a higher key, it started loosing that (already really loose) connection because even though I knew the tchaik would go higher, the singer went higher in a different key and it felt pretty weird and strange like what Eddy said. But overall, id listen to it. ...which isn't really that high of praise since I listen to everything (oh man... the days when i could still rap eminem's rap god to perfection...)

Shinhwa - T. O. P. and Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky (again). I'm not mad at them for using this a lot actually. I've been trying to watch the ballet on youtube but my classical music listening and appreciation and understanding skills are not yet that refined. (Aka i was already a goner when aCT ONE SCENE TWO WAS STARTING. Sigh, i need more training... and more Inside the Score) aNYWAYS- To quote Eddy, oh tHATS SO WEIRD. I literally said it at the exact same time as him lol. But like seriously thoooo. I thought it was gonna like, transition to the piece but like. No. They're just... singing to the tune. I mean like, you can't ruin perfection you guys but like- add a tune? Or something of your own? That isnt just lyrics? Ah shit, now I cant stop imaging playboy!Tchaik ugh. Thank you for making my brain run a mile a minute and being the reason why I won't be sleeping for a couple hours.

Top Dog - Topp Dog and Symphony in G Minor, No. 25 - Mozart. When I heard the first notes of the piece, I reacted the same as both of them. Aka, i recognized it but I forgot the name. As you do with classical music. I've always wanted to download and listen to that piece. Maybe this is a sign... Anyways, the piece here really just vibed with the song ykno? I think its because they decided that they didn't want to overpower the piece by slapping their own music on top but like... they accented and accompanied and complimented it without the spotlight being stolen from them. They brought their own little twist to it and I feel like thats why it works so much. But, I still prefer the orig because it isnt just tHREE MINUTES LONG. (cue airhorns and fire emojis) But its a great combo overall. 10 out of 10, would classical again.

Jimin - Lie and La Vida Breve - Manuel de Falla. Honestly, to me, i feel like literally anyone could come up with that tune. Its like, a really fast beat. You know how almost every basic piece of music uses dun dun tss as a beat? Its kinda like that to me. Because, speaking from my own personal opinions here, fast beats sound nice and that doesnt necessarily mean that it was inspired by a fast part in a piece. Or maybe Jimin listens to classical. WhO kNoWs?

Cherry Bullet - Hands Up and Beethoven's Fur Elise. That "EeeEeeeh" part made me laugh out loud the first time i watched this vid. It still jarrs me like oh my god what the heck why. Dude, they literally just slapped that part into different parts of the song and im- you didnt need to give me more reason to be sick of the opening of Fur Elise. I feel like if I listened to that, the opening is gonna be stuck in my head forever. At least they didnt repeat the "EEEEEE" thing. And honestly, id love to agree with the bois on this one but like... the opening of the song itself broke me im so sorry im so hung over this one detail gOD.

Gfriend - Summer Rain and Schumann - Dichterliebe. All i can say in this part is... Thank you editor-san for adding in that one detail those precious boys missed. But, as ive only seriously gotten into classical recently and therefore arent familiar with a lot of composers works, i can only hear the influence in the beginning instrumental of the song. So uh... might give it a listen for detail. But, i probably wont.

And, oh yeah is it just me or do they seem really tired? Or just... kinda out of it in this one? Because at the end, Eddy was just kinda... playin around with ding ding while Brett carries the energy for the both of them. Hope theyre not stressed but if they are, i hope they get some much needed rest and energy. I also wonder what was up with yesterday. Aka, they didn't post a vid yesterday and i got cONCERNED. I just hope theyre alright.

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heizerux · 5 years

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About Stormy Weather 2

Let’s cut to the chase. This was a filler/recap episode.

Is it disappointing? Yes 😞

They did my girl Aurore wrong with the episode title and not even giving her the attention she deserves. And about nothing new happened. Chloe still hasn’t learned to actually be better. There’s more. But those are about a few things that REALLY got to me (to be brief).

Is it bad that they even have this episode? Not exactly. It just wasn’t done well.

Now that I’ve briefly got out of my system on why I was disappointed, now let’s look at the details and minor brightsides of it (I guess?) and more on why I’m disappointed.

This was an episode to establish the questions we’ve had. (Honestly did we even need these? Actually, not really. But it’s nice they even bothered.) Some of these questions are:

How’s Aurore?

Is Chloe really fully changed?

How does Nathalie REALLY feel? Like with her own words? How LONG has she been with the Agrestes? And will Gabriel keep this shit up?

How’s the dynamic between Ladybug and Chat Noir now since they’ve been fighting for a while?

How’s everyone else (Alya and Nino specifically) doing?

Will Marinette ever tell Adrien that she’s interested in him?

Will Adrien pick up on that???

Pretty much here’s how they answered these, as well as what I took from these answers:

How’s Aurore? Naturally I’m gonna open up with Aurore here since this was supposed to be HER episode again. We see her being bullied by Chloe and then she get it’s gets to her. THAT’S how Aurore is doing. The only few things I liked about her here is learning she and Marinette are friends. But that’s IT. This could have been HER moment. HER episode again. We could of known more about HER. Instead what do we get? Just like 3 minutes tops of her and boom. Defeated, and not even checked up on. I know she’s a side misc character but damnit *slaps table*. . . We really were cheated with her comeback. This wasn’t her episode and it shouldn’t have been titled “Stormy Weather 2”. I’m sad about this.

Is Chloe really fully changed? Nope. So I knew her development wasn’t even started yet (as we’ve seen), but like damn. We see how being hero twice has gotten to her head. It’s disappointing, it really is. The only “bright side” is that at least they’re establishing here that she clearly still has changing to do instead of saying she’s fully changed, which she isn’t. Probably even alluding to what we’re gonna see next with her. Obviously by that last glare, Marinette (as Ladybug) isn’t giving into her shit anymore. (That or she’s disappointed in how Chloe doubled back too.)

How does Nathalie REALLY feel? And so we see. She, as expected, hates her fucking job because it’s too demanding, but LOVES the Agreste family. We now, with her own words, which are rare, learn just how long she’s been with them, her feelings for the family, and that she canonically cared for Emilie and has now fallen for Gabriel. She’s also still sick from Heroes Day (so they didn’t forget that’s a thing, thankfully). Which now only implies that from this point forward, she’ll be Mayura more often, and get even sicker (a life for a life, anyone?)

How’s everyone else doing? That Ninalya (Djwifi) content. . . My heart! 💕💖💕💖😭💖💕💖💕 So they show us Nino is pretty much now a Césaire (lol), and that they both do talk about their hero duties when they’re alone. The good in seeing this? They can actually keep it a secret from the public and this shows their hero potential (unlike Chloe). The bad about it? It’s their disadvantage (as we already know.) Now what we didn’t need is all that recap footage. (That time slot could have been used for my bby Aurore 💜💙💜)

How’s the dynamic between Ladybug and Chat Noir now since they’ve been fighting for a while? Well :) (Filler aside) We see that Ladybug is A LOT more fonder of Chat Noir than before. This time she’s loosening up her humor during battle when she used to be all “stop joking! This is serious!” Then they go on to recap on shit that we already know like that they trust each other and *yawn*. But one thing I did notice, and like about this, is that look she gives him as he runs off.

It’s almost a look of that says “I’m starting to view you as more than a partner. . .” (Will they show it in the following episodes. Boy do I hope.)

Will Marinette ever tell Adrien that she’s interested in him? Okay so not only does she drop off Adrien’s homework, but you notice something? Not only did she volunteer, but she didn’t fluster while doing so. When she delivers it, she’s not panicked about it, instead she’s just nervous about talking to Nathalie and disappointed she couldn’t give it to him in person. Then what happens next? She FINALLY takes Kagami’s advice and does something. Once she’s done, she’s not regretful and doubtful about it anymore when she used to be. Sure, we went over shit that marks she “changed”, but it’s really around this part in the episode that she ACTUALLY changes. From here she’s a new confident Marinette, pretty much. The recap was still unecessary.

Will Adrien pick up on that??? *sigh* no lol.

Okay, real quick, BIG APPRECIATION for Plagg’s “Oh shit” face when he sees Adrien notices the handwriting.

So into Adrien and his love life, we see that his head is too in the clouds to fully notice the amazing girl that is MARINETTE. I will say I love that Plagg keeps trying to steer him in the direction to LOOK AT MARINETTE. (Mentioning how Gabriel wasn’t mad Adrien was with her when he snuck out and hinting that she’s VERY available more than once.) When he finally notices the handwriting, he’s SO close to putting it together. Plagg for a sec is shook about it (since it hints he’s closer to piecing she’s LB), but then he re-tracts because he’s a clueless child and now is left on the conclusion that it’s not her. Okay -_-

So now that that’s done, let me just add on why I think that last part where he retracts marks something.

Anyone find it odd that the episode ended specifically with Adrien noting that “Marinette couldn’t have written the letter (can’t be in love with me) because she’s just a friend that’s into fashion. Besides there’s Luka.”

Luka. . .

. . .

You guys hear that?

Right as soon as he says that, sad music plays. Like he “lost” something.

Then Adrien as if slightly disappointed, insists it was probably “someone else”. . . Because there’s Luka. . .

And then the episode ends.

(My own thought: I think this is here to mark off that not only Luka is coming more into play, but maybe that it’ll affect Adrien more than he thinks? It may be that his change to come is that he stops looking “up in the clouds” and starts looking in front of him.)

haaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!

And that’s about one of the few things that got me in this episode (among Nino and Alya and Mari getting confident for once). Because it means shits gonna get interesting among the ships👀. . . *sips tea*

I’d touch the development issue but after carefully going over the fact that both season 2 and 3 were written around the same time, I do have a hunch stuff is kind of out of order there. But that’s a topic for another day. (Probably one I’ll rethink and retouch fully after this season is done.) So let’s get back to the real question:

So wtf was this episode?

Well, this is just my take, but judging by the brief glances at Stormy Weather 2’s LEVEL of power, it’s there to set what we’re gonna be seeing from the episodes forward. If this looks intense, then we haven’t seen intense, yet (ya feel?)

For certain ppl (I’m one of these ppl) Stormy Weather from S1 was THE pilot episode to the whole show and the first episode seen. It set up what we were going to be seeing of the show. So if there had to be an explanation, my take is that’s why they picked her again to mark off a recap and brand new starting point for what’s to come.

TLDR: This episode probably wasn’t just meant to show what’s changed, but to mark of what WILL change moving forward.

It’s not perfect, I’m still not happy with how it was delivered, but that’s probably what they were going for.

They probably should of just called it “The Story So Far” or something, honestly. Not Stormy Weather 2. Aurore did amazing. Her screentime didn’t :( But in the end, it’s probably there to mark the start of real change.

Since that’s maybe the deal, then changes we may see here moving forward and so on are:

It’s probably gonna mark Marinette as being comfortable around Adrien and no longer hesitating as much as she did, but of course Luka will be more in her life (and Adrien may or may not realize he isn’t as okay with it?? That’s just what I wanna see honestly lol). Chloe will probably realize that she can’t keep expecting to be handed a miraculous just because she says so, which then could mark her to ACTUALLY start changing. And so on.

Anyway we’ll see what the next episodes bring. I noticed they’ve only been showing us the uneventful episode first and leaving the more “juicy” ones for later dates. . .

As long as this is, I actually kind of rushed through it so my apologies if it’s all over the place :(

#sorry about the dots #spacing on mobile sucks #ml season 3 #ml thoughts #ml salt #ml speculation #sort of #ml spoilers #stormy weather 2 #miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #personal

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