#the formatting is weird as hell but this was supposed to be like 100 words and it became 1100 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rataltouille · 4 years

Text

HOUSE PLANTS, UPDATE 1

this has been long overdue. typical, really. [novel intro found here.]

the story is currently eight chapters in but it's also a very strange eight chapters. i’m not really happy with half of these words because they're unnecessary ™ and dull ™ and serve no purpose whatsoever ™. i’m simply choosing to ignore that i need to cut them out. :’] here’s a note i made that perfectly captures my feelings so far:

before we go into the excerpts, i want to talk a bit about how house plants is structured because the format is whack. each chapter ranges from 3000-4000 words. A few vignettes, around 500 words, are sprinkled between these chapters. the chapters narrate events from the fictive past, while the vignettes are snippets into the fictive present [the point from where lilith is retelling the story]. additionally, an important plot thread is told entirely in the form of an epistolary [through letters] and so there's a bit more of confusion to navigate through. fun times.

and now for the excerpts. they're from the first three chapters and are very weird out of context. i think that each update will feature excerpts from three consequent chapters, but that may change as we get closer to spoiler land.

excerpts:

chapter one

the novel kicks off with an odd vignette featuring an unhinged willow and an innocent lilith. chronologically, this is set way back, the earliest scene ever, around when lilith was ten or eleven. it’s meant to establish a sense of unease and to thread the unsettling undertone i’m going for. it's also major foreshadowing but we don't talk about that here. i’m not giving away much because there's not many excerpts to scrape out from a dialogue-heavy vignette like this.

”Here, let me help, mother.”

I tried guiding your palms to the rim of the pot, but you moved them away. From the brief touch, my fingers came away with moisture. On second glance, your knuckles were bathed in sweat. Your veins pulsed and your hands shivered. You gave me a wide-eyed glance, dumped the plant atop the brown, and stood up. You wiped the dirt away on your jeans. From below, with sunlight teetering over your golden hair, you were a personification of God. But were you, really? Does God fear their children? Does God volunteer to garden? I didn't know what God truly meant. I don't now either. But I’m certain it wasn't you.

”Sorry, Lilith. My pollen allergy is acting up.”

It's stunning how it ran in our blood, lying effortlessly.

chapter two

immediately after this we’re pulled off into the linear non-vignette chapter thing, aka the second chapter. [god what am i doing with this structure]. it starts with a soft little reminiscent bit about juniper?? i’m exploiting the tense a lot but it's been fun. (:

The first time she smiled at me is knit into me, like I’m not myself without it. I’m not. She breathed change and I ran with it. Whenever she gazed at me, with sunset dripping behind her head, or with rain clouds dotting her hairline, she’d smile. It was the sound of a ukulele in a winter draft, the kiss of dew on my favourite hemlock, the fond mythical curl of my father’s arms around me. There’s a phantom of love everywhere, and I almost caught it sneaking around her. Even now, Juniper dozes so soundly; she’s replaced everything I wanted you to be and everything you never were. You’d know, of course. You always have.

willow is officially introduced soon after, and so is one of the major plot threads, i.e. lilith’s correspondence with her dad. this excerpt is to show how the family feel about each other became, like i mentioned, there’s a lot of tea to be split here. not gonna lie, this paragraph reads as kinds pure.

You— the town called you Wistful Willow, but they did so behind your back and on postcards to neighbours— had a special lilt in your tone every time you spoke his name. ”Isac,” your lips would curl, almost a smile, and I’d smile back. You loved it, the sound of his name. It had become a ritual for us, pouring our sorrow and joy and unrest and comfort into those two syllables. A fallback plan, I suppose; there was always father to rely on amidst chaos.

willow is constantly at home and she’s probably not seen the outside world in a million years. she either cooks, reads, sits in a bathtub, or does everything at the same time. not odd at all.

The bathroom door, thick oak painted ivory, was right across where I stood. The house was large and empty, and I had three places— study, bedroom, garden— to myself. I lived only with you, so it was mostly quiet, except on Saturdays when we got father’s mail and watched TV together. That Saturday we had seen an old movie from the 70s, a random romance that neither of us cared for, but watched out of duty.

The door was shut. From it came the sound of pages rustling, not unlike a delicate breeze playing with the fronds of croton plants. I knocked softly.

”Come in, ” you said, a splash of water punctuating your voice.

I entered to find you half-immersed in the bathtub, one hand holding a novel, the other limp across the rim. There lingered the scent of soapy water, rose-tinted, and all over the tiled walls was the water’s reflection, a glow of opulence. You were half-naked, your garments drifting like algae. Your habit of reading in the bathtub had been increasing lately. You looked at me, questioning.

there’s also the introduction of lilith’s best friends marcy and faun, where they lay down in the middle of a field after a tiring cricket match and banter all through the evening. i’m really enjoying the trio’s friendship; it's both fun to write and they’re just so pure.

”If you insult Henry one more time, Marce...”

”He actually named the butterfly.” Her eyes were wide and amused; she dug up mud with her nails and flicked it upwards, glanced at me. ”Lilith. He named his fucking butterfly.”

”Faun, it's dead. You keep it in a box, ” I said.

”The dead don't magically lose their names, ” he countered.

Our laughter drafted into town. I don't think it heard.

chapter three

this is kind of uneventful but it sets up some major subplots. i might push it to later in the book, but i’m happy with where it it's right now. lilith randomly keeps reminiscing throughout so that’s convenient. this excerpt is about willow and thus is unreliable as hell. willow ain't good and lilith ain't 100% sincere narrating this right now, so don't let its pureness fool you.

People in town, I’d hear, found you odd and unsociable, cold and distant. I always scoffed when they told me so. They only knew the Willow who never attended community gatherings, who’d gaze out absentmindedly from the porch, who’d more so see than observe, hear than listen. They didn't know the Willow who was my mother, who hated loud noises, who loved her novels with a passion, who spoke so serenely— and rarely— that you hung onto her every word. Only I saw this side of you, and that suited me just fine.

there’s a scene where lilith [accidentally] spies on marcy and another guy. their conversation makes lilith tangent off in her head.

Marcy spoke detachedly, like she was speaking through a filter of not caring. I worried for her and her charade. It didn't help that scented letters confessing love often found their way to her locker, or that roses were shoved in her face as if her admirers loved her so much that they forgot she was allergic to them. Idolisation and adoration took extreme forms; she was stalked for a month and sent death threats. She would put on a disguise of indifference and seem unbothered, but at night she’d soak her pillow and lose sleep, then inform us the next day about her insomnia so casually that we almost forgot how easily she hurt.

i’m not going to lie, the last line in this excerpt was just me indulging myself with the knowledge of the climax. i need to stop slipping in random tone changes like this lol.

My walk home finished quick, though my feet expressed exhaustion. I was right on time, too; you were sitting by your coffee table, glasses crooked upon your nose, a new novel— this one a bright red sky, gold print, gauzy— resting beside warm coffee. You barely smiled, but that was because you were daydreaming. I was familiar with every tell: your eyes would tilt towards my forehead, your lips would stretch, your fingers would drum on whatever you were holding. I’d always let you be when you drowned into your head. Did you ever notice that, Mother? Have you ventured out of your mind to witness my efforts?

and finally some food for thought. yes, that pun was intended. i’ll see myself out.

”Dinner’s ready, dear,” you called. I groaned out my fatigue and left my room, hoping to abandon my unflattering thoughts. In the kitchen, I helped you set the table. Soon we were both sipping hot carrot soup with a side of breadsticks. You were already invested in the novel. I held the spoon, the heat barely registering, and watched you drift through fiction and reality like a will o’ the wisp. Maybe I could read for escapism, too. It would do me good.

that’s all for today! thanks for reading so far; support is, as always, appreciated. hope you liked these excerpts ✨

#house plants #writeblr #am writing #spare some love please i can’t believe the amount of time i spent on this post 😔🙏#house plants update

76 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

Italian Doomers BRETUS Tell Ghostly Tales on New LP, ‘Magharia’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Artwork by DamianaMerante

Hailing from the City of the Two Seas, Italian doomers BRETUS return with a new album of ghost stories. Longtimers know that Bretus and Doomed & Stoned practically grew up together. Though the band has been active since the turn of the century, our first exposure came with their debut full-length 'In Onirica' (2012) and subsequently we formed a friendship with the Catanzaro doomers that continues to this very day. It's hard to believe they're already over two decades old (okay, 20 years young, if you like). And what do they have to show for it? A handful of LPs, an EP, and a split with fellow Italianos Black Capricorn.

If you're as much a fan of vintage horror movies, H.P. Lovecraft lore, mysticism, and the occult as Zagarus (vox), Ghenes (guitar), Janos (bass), and Striges (drums), there's a whole world of story and sound awaiting your deep dive into the Bretus catalog. Adding to their already excellent discography, a fifth album now reveals itself: 'Magharia' (2021).

I won't spoil my interview with the band (see below) if I tell you that the album concerns, shall we say, several tales of the supernatural variety. An ominous gong is struck to the backdrop of monastic chant as Magharia opens in epic fashion "Celebration of Gloom," a song characterized by a chugging proto-trash tempo, trve metal stylings, and Gothic vocals appropriate to it's subject. It's a rather grim account of a certain sacrilegious priest and his daliences with young women of the church. As a preacher's kid, I've seen this kind of thing play out a hundred times and can assure you these sweeping romances between clergy and laity never end well. In this case, it winds up with a ghoulish rite and a victim's vengeance.

"In the sky lightning strikes...wicked laments rise from the ground." Welcome to "Cursed Island." True to the spirit of the lyrics, this track really let's it all hang out, with quasi operatic vocals that occasionally erupt in maniacal laughter (reminding me vintage Reagers-era Saint Vitus, with its lusty swagger). And why not? This is after all about the mystery that surrounds one of the most haunted islands on earth.

Thus far, the record's been sporting a pretty up-beat pulse, so surely you're ready for some good old fashion doom? "Moonchild's Scream" concerns a albino girl accused of being possessed by the devil for her appearance. One day, she disappears in the dungeons of a castle and legend has it that her cries can still be heard every five years during the Summer Solstice. Doesn't get more doom than that, folks!

After a brief interlude ("Necropass"), we arrive at my favorite track of Magharia. "Nuraghe" concerns the spirit of a woman judged and condemned for a crime she was innocent of still roams among the ancient stones. Boy, the ancients sure did have a hang-up with free-spirited, independent women, didn't they? The song itself is possessed by the spirit of Pentagram in its biting guitar work and rhythmic attack. Love the riffage on this one! Some of it could have been played out just a little more for my taste, like the all-too-brief Soundgardenesque motif at the two-minute mark. It returns a minute later, again in brief. C'mon Ghenes, let your inner Kim Thayil loose! Maybe we can convince them to improv at this point with a bitchin' guitar solo at their next festival appearance. Then again, perhaps this fits artistically with the song, which speaks of obscure "grim dancing bats" and a ghost that haunts through swift shadows passing over glimmers of light. Once again, Zagrus expressive song style comes through to distinguish this as a gem of the genre. I shall be revisiting it on my personal playlist often.

"Headless Ghost" strikes graceful Goatsnake groove as the yarn is spun about the restless and tormented soul of an ancient Roman warrior who has risen from his place of rest. All he wants is the skull that was looted from his place of burial. Give it back to him! "No one will be spared tonight," the lyrics warn, as the song shifts down to a dire doom dirge as the night unveils a strange moon and the wanderings of a cursed soul, seeking his head and not more. "He is living again in this hell."

"The Bridge of Damnation" is one of the creepiest of the record, said to be about "a bridge, a young boy, and his three torturers." The mood is quite dark, with esoteric atmosphere, reverberating vocalizations, guitar and bass trading off notes. Oh, and did I mention this tale from the crypt involves death and resurrection, as well? The riffmaking and drumming are absolutely on point, as is the singing -- which by now in the record I'm not only am accustomed to, but have grown to admire. Another keeper!

"Sinful Nun" winds and grinds as Zagarus croons about the inner torment of a Sister who has never gotten over her beloved, who died under such unspeakably tragic circumstances that she decided to consecrate herself to God in celibacy. However, her vows are in vain as she still pines for her long lost lover. The verses are sung to the accompaniment of a galloping tempo, which seems to represent the fevered anguish of a soul forever stricken by grief and the haunted memories of lost love. This is juxtaposed in the chorus by a cursed riff that seems to speak as the Hand of Fate itself. "Farewell to this life," are the Sinful Nun's final words.

At last, we reach the album's namesake and though "Magharia" is entirely instrumental, it would be a mistake to assume you know what it's going to do. Around the four-minute mark, I had to check and make sure I was listening to the same album, as dark synth busted out a metronomic rhythm, leading to a declamatory section of keyboards to accompany the math-like guitar play and an improvisation of almost creepy seventies-sounding prog, which after its playful fit dissipates suddenly in a bluesy collapse.

Bretus have cooked up a remarkable horror soundtrack that, though it speaks of ancient lore, is very much a fitting backdrop to the unreality of our own times. Fitting somewhere on the stylistic spectrum between Candlemass and Paul Chain, Reverend Bizarre and Cardinals Folly, Margharia may be the band's finest effort to date. Certainly, it rewards repeated listens, and will haunt you for many years to come. Look for the record to drop this weekend (pre-order here), with multiple physical formats releasing via The Swamp Records (compact disc), Burning Coffin Records (cassette), and Overdrive Records (vinyl). Until then, you can stream it all, right now, right here!

Give ear...

Magharia by BRETUS

An Interview with Bretus

What is the concept behind the new album and what themes do you explore?

Musically the new record is most "in your face" than the previous album. Also our approach to the recording was different. We rehearsed and arranged together more than before. The result is an album more raw to us. It is a concept album born around different italian old ghost tales. Some of these is supposed to be legend or myth, who knows.

When did you write it? Was it during the pandemic lockdowns?

We had more ideas about new stuff long before the pandemia arrived. We spent this time working on the pre-production of the tracks.

Can you give us a track-by-track explanation of each song on the album?

For sure!

"Celebration of Gloom" is a strange song because there are many influences in it. Including a solo flute in the middle of the track. However is a very loud and gloomy song.

"Cursed Island" probably is the most rock 'n' roll song of the album. If you know what I mean. Rock in the attitude. Also the first video of the album.

"Moonchild's Scream" is 100% pure Doom with a heavy mid-section.

"Necropass" is like Caronte travelling the damned souls across the Stige River.

"Nuraghe" is a heavy oriented track with a very dark feeling.

"Headless Ghost" has a more stoner trend than the others and in the end there is a psycho riffing.

"The Bridge of Damnation" includes our '80s dark influences into our sound, probably the most haunted track of the album. The story is based upon an old weird story that happened in our native city, Catanzaro.

"Sinful Nun" is like an experiment and neither of us can explain really what it is... ah ah aha! For sure the most heavy track of all.

Finally "Magharia." You cannot believe it but the idea comes from a Who's album, Quadrophenia. Either of us wrote a part of the song. The result is a kind of horror soundtrack.

Magharia by BRETUS

How do you feel that your basic style or approach to song composition has changed since you first started writing songs in the early days?

You already know a lot of things about us, we know you from so long ago! Please don't ask how old we are. (laughs) Basically our approach is the same from the beginning. Of course we listen to a lot of new stuff during these years so every album brings different "colors."

Where are you most looking forward to playing live once pandemic restrictions are eased?

Everywhere! We are angry for live gigs or simply to drink beers with friends.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #D&S Interviews #D&S Reviews #Bretus #Catanzaro #Italy #doom #metal #doom metal #horror #occult #stoner rock #HeavyBest2021 #Doomed and Stoned

2 notes · View notes

spearfeld · 4 years

Text

So I just finished Love, Creekwood

Some spoiler-filled thoughts under the cut!

tl;dr 4/5, it was super cute but I was confused about some things and didn’t think everything worked

Overall, I liked it. It was cute as fuck, and it was nice getting to see the squad again. I have some good to say about it, some bad, and then just some...questions. Let’s start with the good:

Becky’s writing style is as cute and as charming as ever. There were multiple parts of the book that had me laughing out loud, even if maybe not as strongly as I did while reading Simon, Leah, and watching Love Simon and Victor. Drunk Simon makes a reappearance, and it is everything. EVERYTHING. I love that boy so much and he only gets more adorable when he drinks lol.

I love the whole theming of “save states” and wanting to keep moments forever and go back to them, and the idea of holding onto the past. That’s a really unique way of tackling an interesting topic, and I love it quite a bit.

And this isn’t really a bad thing, sort of just an observation, but when Plot Things started happening, it really shocked me, because I forgot that books are supposed to have a plot lmfao. Maybe it is a bit of a criticism, but the reason that surprised me so much is because up until conflict started arising, it really was feeling just like supplemental material, just some cute fluff, the kind of stuff I would go on ao3 to read fanfic about. That’s not necessarily a bad thing--it is very cute and very fluffy and very fun to read--but books do need conflict, even short 100-page novellas told entirely through e-mails.

That being said, the conflict is definitely an interesting one. Long-distance relationship stories are nothing new, of course, but this kind of conflict was teased at the end of Leah on the Offbeat, and I think it’s handled mostly well, narratively. I especially like the contrast between Simon and Bram’s relationship trying to manage long-distance, and Leah and Abby’s who are literally living together and could not be closer if they tried (except Abby does, lol, by suggesting they push their beds together, which, cute).

I’m not entirely sure the e-mail format entirely works for this story. It’s serviceable enough--Becky does a really good job at filling in blanks without spelling everything out for us, with a few exceptions that we’ll get to later--but the e-mails don’t lend themselves to enough character insight, and I found myself getting kind of lost through some of it.

For example, the main “plot” of Love, Creekwood is that Simon and Bram are struggling in their long-distance relationship (did Becky read The Whole Story, should I be pursuing legal action? /s), and that much is apparent through Simon’s e-mails with Bram, but when Simon e-mails Abby and Leah, it seems like he’s worked things out. But then Leah and Abby have their own correspondence where they’re like, “I’m worried about Simon.” And I was like...why? Oh I guess he was trying to make things seem better than they were? Okay, that didn’t super come across in the e-mail. So it was hard to tell what was actually going through the characters’ heads during the story at times.

But trying to change the story from an e-mail format to a prose format with e-mails like the first Simon book would have taken more time and effort, and I know that Becky probably didn’t want to spend more effort than necessary on a project like this--she’s said on multiple occasions that Leah was the last book in the Simonverse and that she didn’t want to write any more books featuring Simon. I definitely think she was excited about writing this book and getting to spend time with these characters again, but I think digging them up for a full-length novel just wasn’t something she was interested in doing. I can’t blame her for this, either. She spent years in the Simonverse. Simon was her debut, and her next two books were directly related to it in some way--one being a sidestory featuring characters from Simon, and the other being a direct sequel. It’s easy to get burnt out on a world when you spend so much time involved in it, and I think Becky wanted to work on different things. So, for what it’s worth, I think this is probably the best form of this book that we could have gotten.

Also, very tiny nitpick but it was hard to see who was writing who sometimes, since all of the e-mail addresses tended to blur together sometimes, particularly in the group messages, and I think that if Becky wasn’t so dead-set on “e-mails are the thing it has to be e-mails!!” then she could have gotten away with making that an actual group chat/text and it would have read a lot cleaner.

Those are the only real negatives I can say about it, unless you count these questions I have as negatives, which, I kind of count them as half-negatives because they’re not inherently bad things, and I think ambiguity was the intent here, but it left me feeling a bit unsatisfied. Maybe this will change the more I think about the book, but regardles:

What actually happened between Simon and Bram? What’s going on with them? We spend a lot of their e-mails talking about how much they miss each other, and then there’s the whole weird Birthday/Marriage Proposal thing. And we never actually get a concrete answer as to what happened with them on the Ferris wheel. Apparently Simon said two words to Bram that “destroyed” him. And I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what those words are supposed to be.

He doesn’t seem to be upset by them, judging by how he wants to “keep that one,” so it has to be a good “destroyed.” But their emails seem to become a lot more strained after that point, and Simon has been neglecting messaging his friends, leaving Leah worried he’s spiraling. What could Simon have said to Bram that night that would change their relationship like that, and cause Simon to retreat the way he did? “Marry me?” “It’s you?” “Fuck Martin?” “Hello, lover?” Like I seriously don’t get what exactly he said there, but I get the impression that I was supposed to have inferred something, that there was something I should have picked up on to lead me to a conclusion, an answer to that question.

Did Simon ask Bram to marry him and he say no? That can’t be, because when Simon finally responds to Leah, he says that, while he does believe Bram is the one, he knows he’s not ready for it to happen right now, so I can’t imagine he would have gone through with proposing. Did he say, “It’s you,” in a callback to when their identities were first revealed? Maybe it’s supposed to be a callback to something from Simon vs that I just don’t remember, because it’s been a while since I’ve reread it.

Going back and rereading that section, it really seems like it’s a one-sided Simon thing at first, that he’s just figuring stuff out. So, if he said “it’s you” what else is there to figure out? Like, they’re still together, they’re spending their breaks together, Simon spends a whole two weeks and then some in New York with Bram, and then they hit that “This isn’t working” point. And so I’m wondering, did something happen when Simon was in New York? It’s never really said, though Abby and Leah do point out Washington Square Park and...I’m not entirely sure why?

Okay, and finally, the ending: I’m still really confused by it. Not Simon transferring to New York, that makes sense, but Bram’s reply to it doesn’t. I mean, it’s in-character and makes sense as his reaction, but I don’t understand it’s significance. What is he calling Simon about? Just, that he’s happy they’re going to be going to school together? To talk about his transfer? I don’t know, something about it just felt incomplete to me.

All of this being said, I did still enjoy this book. It was super cute and exactly the follow-up to this series that I didn’t know I needed haha. Don’t take any of my criticisms of the book as hate or anything. I love Becky, I love her writing style, and I love her characters. This book could have been fifty pages of Simon e-mailing Bram his interpretation of the themes to the Bee Movie and I’d have loved the living hell out of it. It just didn’t click all the right boxes for me, in ways I can’t entirely place my fingers on.

#mine #love simon #simon vs #simon vs the homo sapiens agenda #svthsa #simon spier #love creekwood #becky albertalli #book review #fair warning there's some negative stuff in here but i did like the book overall

6 notes · View notes

imuybemovoko · 4 years

Text

I die inside while dissecting Jesus music

For this fun little exercise in self-torture, I’m going to find a weird worship song and dissect it. Today I feel like saying death-cult a distressing number of times so I’m going to find one that talks about how the next world is supposed to be better for this one.

I’m probably going to regret this. And probably cope by blasting metal while I do this.

I’ll go with a bit of low-hanging fruit for this first one: Even So Come. It’s attributed six ways to Sunday because like seven different artists/groups have a recording of it somewhere out public, but this lyric site thingy says Chris Tomlin. Some of these songs get wildly popular to the point where even as a church guitar guy (read: very large fan of this shitty music) I tended to find it a bit confusing to tell who originally wrote them. This is an example. I think it was probably Kristian Stanfill but uh... I can never be 100% sure. I’ve been wrong about ones I was way more sure about before.

This song is repetitive as fuck, like a lot of these, because what helps indoctrinate people more than literally singing the same words for 15 minutes?

Let’s get into this shit.

The song

I’ll spare you a few minutes of your life if you want to keep it. I already linked the lyrics, but I’ll give this a quick listen to make sure Stanfill doesn’t literally freehand some new lyrics during the video; if he does, I’ll discuss that too I suppose. The whole point of this is that I’m listening to this shit so you don’t have to. But if you really want to, then go off I guess. I can’t and honestly wouldn’t try to stop you. Unless this shit is triggering to you. In that case please don’t listen. It used to fuck me up hard when my brother would blast songs like this in the shower after I deconverted. I don’t want that happening to anyone out there. Tread with caution.

Okay. I wrote that while I was listening, and apparently he doesn’t yeet off into new spontaneous lyrics at any point. I think that’s more of a Bethel thing, but I don’t remember it being exclusive to them so I had to make sure.

Ok, let’s do this more or less in order. I’ll take it a verse at a time. But first, let’s talk formatting. The first two verses aren’t separated by anything, and the third is after the first chorus. After the third verse they play the chorus again, then the bridge. The AZLyrics entry under Tomlin lists it twice; Stanfill plays it twice. When I was on the worship team at a church, we’d typically play the bridge four times for extra drama. After this, they end with two tricks. First is that they play the first half or so of the chorus, then a whole chorus right after it. Again, this is for extra drama. The leader of the worship team at my old church would tend to point to one part of the song as the “climax” and we’d do a fair amount of this kind of shit leading up to it. In this particular case, it’s actually most of the chorus, leaving off only the “even so come” lines. The break is at a lyrically appropriate place more often than it’s just like “haha 2 bars into the chorus” or something like that because of course the message has to be consistent. After this, they fade the song out by repeating the last line or two, like, umpteen times to foster a contemplative mood. (It works. I’ve been on both ends of this dynamic. If you’re in a more charismatic crowd, my experience suggests that this final repetition is the most likely point where someone’s going to fall out and start speaking in tongues or something. Also, in those circles sometimes one of the vocalists, most often the team leader because of course, will give some kind of “word from God” to the congregation.) That’s the format, and it’s a very common one. At church camps and retreats and events like those, often they’ll loop choruses or bridges or ending tags or, sometimes (but far less often), verses and extend a song like this one to like fifteen or twenty minutes. In a typical church service they don’t really do it that way though because people might get impatient or something.

On to the lyrics of this song. I’ll address the verses in order, then the chorus and bridge, then talk ordering, because doing this chronologically would get annoying as fuck. The first verse is as follows:

All of creation All of the earth Make straight a highway A path for the Lord Jesus is coming soon

Notice the equivocation in the first two lines here. The author most likely believes this is an accurate thing to equivocate, and so do most of their audience.

The next two lines are a similar repetition, using both modern and more Biblically-flavored language, in reference to Mark 1:3. The particular language used is not altogether different from most English translations. These lines, both in the sense that the author intends and in their function in the song, are meant to prepare the listener for what follows: “Jesus is coming soon.” A reminder of the inevitable apocalypse most Christian sects teach and, in their view, the second chronologically of two most important events in the entire history and future of the world (the first being the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ). Every verse of the song ends with this reminder.

To boil the message of this verse down into one word:

(I have entirely too much fun with this image lol)

The second verse:

Call back the sinner Wake up the saint Let every nation Shout of Your fame Jesus is coming soon

“Call back the sinner” implies a return to origins and contains an implicit reference to the prodigal son in the parable in Luke 15. The implication is that being a “sinner” (and I’ll discuss the dichotomy in a second here) is a life of running away from God either by ignorance or by choice, and that they were originally with God. The typical narrative on the mechanisms of the fall of man seems to suggest otherwise because only Adam and Eve were technically originally with God and everyone else starts out separated because of that lovely little generational curse thingy, this is a bit of an odd take, but in light of the evangelical perspective that not only a god, but their god is so self evident that people have to make the active choice to not believe, this makes an entire hell of a lot of sense, and “calling back the sinner” could entail saying “lol stop wasting your energy running from what you know.”

The next line engages in a bit of common guilt-tripping. Saying “wake up the saint” implies that believers and churches have fallen asleep in some sense, and that’s actually a perspective referenced in the letters to the seven churches in Revelation, each church getting a different flavor of messaging like this. When churches and saints are called to “wake up”, it means to cease engaging in whatever behavior is apparently polluting their message, i.e. forgetting the original reason they’re doing this, normalizing “worldly” practices, bad leadership paradigms, etc. Thus, I’m inclined to read this line as something like “you’re better than the rest of humanity; act like it.

Also of note is this dichotomy established here between “sinners” and “saints”. This is, on paper at least, the only important distinction in evangelicalism. (In practice they have a lot of shitty perspectives on women because of Paul’s writings as well as some class and/or racial biases, unconscious or conscious depending on the particular congregation.) A “saint” is a “true” Christian, one who is “set apart” from the world by God. A “sinner” is literally anyone else. In addition to their entire laundry list of harmless actions that are considered sins, Evangelicals (and probably many other Christians honestly) will say that to be non-Christian is a sin. In my old church and its affiliates I often heard that to remain non-Christian for an entire lifetime is the only unforgivable sin, identifying it with the “blasphemy of the Holy Spirit” referenced in Matthew 12:31. There are a wide variety of perspectives on what this “blasphemy of the Holy Spirit” actually means, and I can really only confidently speak to Calvary Chapel’s perspective on that. In any case, this song makes use of the “sinner vs saint” dichotomy common in Christianity. I analyze it as a typical “us vs them” with an added twist that says “the ‘them’ can become us and that’s better”.

After this is a reference to the passages in the Bible that speak of the Gospel being spread to “every nation” and things such as that, and that every nation will come under Christ’s lordship at the end of time. Then there’s a reminder that the singer is awaiting this apparently fast-approaching end.

The third verse:

There will be justice All will be new Your name forever Faithful and true Jesus is coming soon

This third verse is mostly a reference to events predicted to occur after the second coming of Christ. In Revelation, among other places, there is a described sequence of events in which the world comes absolutely fucking unglued, falls under the thumb of a tyrannical world government run by some guy who lets himself get possessed by Satan, and then is yeeted by God and soaked in the blood of Satan’s armies at the final battle. A bit later, for some reason Satan has to be let go for a bit, but he loses hard once again. After this, God yeets the unbelievers into hellfire and makes a new world which he rules forever. In short, the collapse, battles, and Great Divine Yeet are what this “justice” describes. The remaining lines speak of this renewed world run by Jesus himself. Lastly, we have the reminder that this is all going to happen before very long here.

There’s a bit of a double-reference thing going on here and in the second verse too, and I’m honestly not entirely sure what to make of it, but it shows up often in contemporary Christian music. They’ll switch between referring to God in second person (Your name forever) and in third person (Jesus is coming soon). It seems ...most likely to be a matter of convenience, and I’m rather inclined to treat it as that because the other things I think of seem either counter-productive or very, very outlandish. Like, are they alternating between addressing God and addressing the listener? Maybe, but the message of this song is so much more listener-directed that I find that thought kinda weird.

In any case, that’s the verses.

Now let’s get to the chorus. This is repeated after the first two verses and again several times after the third, and it contains a lot of deeply cursed metaphors. I mean holy fuck.

Like a bride Waiting for her groom We'll be a church Ready for You Every heart longing for our King We sing Even so come Lord Jesus come Even so come Lord Jesus come

So the first two little couplets here refer to a metaphor found in several places in scripture where the church is the “bride” of Christ. This. is. CREEPY! In the old testament, the role of the wife is often analogous to that of property, so that’s deeply gross. Further, Paul says men are the head of women, i.e. have great authority over them, and women should be subservient. Jesus doesn’t honestly do a whole hell of a lot to resist this, and powerful women throughout most of the scriptures are either defined as attaining their power in “God-honoring” subservient ways like Esther or as dangerous demonic influences operating under the “spirit of Jezebel”. (”Jezebel” is literally a scriptural term for this kind of thing; one of the church letters in Revelation uses it. Many evangelicals/fundies add “spirit of” because of their borderline-animistic take on spiritual warfare. I might describe that in more detail in a later post. It’s a metaphor based on an old-testament queen who is presented as manipulative and narcissistic, taking the real power in the kingdom from her husband by manipulation and doing a great deal of damage with it.) Thus, in this context, I find the “bride” metaphors inextricable from a tyrannical, abusive relationship in which the man, or in this case Christ, is the absolute head. Biblical ideas on marriage and family life are an entire problem too, establishing what I feel very confident in describing as an abusive power dynamic. Thus, this song references a metaphor by which Christ is described as having abusive control over his people. @kristian stanfill thanks I hate it. @whoever the fuck wrote the bible thanks I hate it. The couplet in this song is describing a situation in which the church is waiting to submit to an abusive authority and it’s fucking disgusting and I hate that I used to live that way.

The next line, “every heart longing for our king”, indicates that it’s normative to strongly desire this power dynamic and expresses a probably-genuine (mine was) desire for more of Jesus on the part of the writer and the singer. So with these preconditions established, they say, “we sing, even so come, Lord Jesus, come”, repeating “even so come” and on twice for added weight. The chorus and bridge are, by the way, where this seems to get deathculty.

Remember that in referencing the coming of Jesus, they reference ideas that this world is shitty and being dead and in heaven/having the world destroyed by God and replaced is going to be a hell of a lot better. The Bible and many churches, particularly evangelicals, will even use language like “dying to oneself” to refer to the process of laying down one’s life for the cause of Jesus. Thus, death metaphors infiltrate their literal daily living. The general attitude that’s expected for people to have in those circumstances is one of “I won’t seek death actively but I will welcome it when the time comes”, and coupled with the way the other forms of abuse broke me, this had me fantasizing about dying in third-world countries for getting too annoying about Jesus. So that’s pretty wack, I suppose. This belief system is one that puts death on a very disturbing pedestal. This entire song is about preparing for the return of Jesus, which is going to bring a hell of a lot of death if it happens as they predict. This very deadly event is what “Jesus is coming soon” entails, and it’s one of two possible interpretations that I can think of to apply to these “even so come lord Jesus come” lines. The other is that they believe that Jesus is present with them when they worship (Matthew 18:20) and they seek to experience this presence. But the preparatory nature of this song, in my experience at least, puts very strong priority on the first sense, even though it can be, and in church settings often functions as, both. These lines are a plea for personal transformation and for the apocalypse. In the vanishingly unlikely event that the Christian version of the divine turns out to be true, billions will die in wars and disasters (some actively caused by God’s agents) and many of those same billions and many more people, including me, will be victims of the Great Cosmic Yeet and land in hellfire forever. And they want this to happen sooner rather than later. That’s literally the main point of this song.

So we wait We wait for You God we wait You're coming soon

This is the bridge. It’s typically repeated kind of a lot. Like, I mean holy fuck they repeat this. It’s literally just “we’re excited for the second coming of Christ”. You know, in case someone needed a reminder that they want billions dead, even more people yeeted into hellfire, and the entire world destroyed. Evangelical and fundamentalist strains of Christianity are literally a death cult.

So with that rant-filled analysis out of the way, let’s see if I can talk formatting without dying inside again or getting too pissed off.

On the lyric site I linked above (and I’ll link it again so you don’t have to scroll through whatever literal mountain of text and cursed images I’ve produced) this goes verse 1, verse 2, chorus, verse 3, chorus, bridge twice, weird most-of-chorus tag, chorus, the last two lines like several times over. Thus, already we have multiple repetitions of most concepts found in this song. Also, this two verses-chorus-third verse-chorus-bridge several times-chorus twice-ending tag format is quite common in contemporary Christian music, in the studio recordings, official lyrics, and chord sheets you’ll find out there. But I cannot stress enough that this structure, especially the bridge and latter choruses but the entire structure including the verses, is extremely modular. Anything can be repeated, or repeated more times. Anything can be re-inserted in another place. This is mostly a Bethel thing in my experience, but there can be instrumental breaks for one of the vocalists to yeet out entirely spontaneous lyrics. There can be massive empty instrumental breaks, or instrumental breaks with spoken words in them. And I’ve seen even less of that, but parts of other songs can be inserted just about anywhere too, and I’ve actually participated in that one on occasion. To an extent, any music can be handled in ways like this, but it seems to me like contemporary Christian music is consciously designed that way because its target audience goes nuts over long, “spirit-filled” songs played at church camps or an extra spicy church service.

It’s also worth noting, and if I end up doing a whole lot of these I’ll probably explain this in a great deal more depth, that these songs can get reasonably similar to one another. I think that’s because to a very large extent, the words and structure matter a hell of a lot less than the way they set the mood. You can get the same impact on a crowd of willing Christians from probably literally any combination of these songs. I always had my favorites but that didn’t seem to matter that much.

I’m inclined to say some of the same things about a lot of modern music, actually. It has common structures, a lot of music is interchangeable for certain moods, etc. But I can’t say a thing about the modularity of modern music. A song seems to be way more of a distinct unit in most environments. Mashups do happen, but massive repetitions of one piece of a song generally don’t in any context that I’m aware of. They’ll jam out on an instrumental for a while at concerts sometimes, but you really don’t get this, like, singing “Crawl on your belly til the sun goes down, I’ll never wear your broken crown, I took the road and I fucked it all away, in this twilight how dare you speak of grace” more than like the twice they do it in the studio recording from most groups like you do in very many Christian music settings. (The example chorus I put here was from Mumford and Sons- Broken Crown. It’s an amazing song, I totally recommend it lol it was the first one that popped into my head for this purpose.) Some other commonalities are present in a lot of modern music, but for the most part, that modularity would just come across extremely weird. I think just about every time I’ve either seen or been involved in the playing of Even So Come at a church, the musicians engaged in at least some degree of modularity, most often by repeating the bridge but sometimes uh... holy crap. Because of the extreme prolific use of these songs in church or retreat settings, I’m inclined to list the modularity as the single most important aspect of the formatting of this song and of many others.

#ex christian #contemporarychristianmusic #worship #i probably need therapy #dead inside

3 notes · View notes

forestwater87 · 4 years

Text

Cutting Myself on all this Edge

This post has no reason to exist, except that I keep bothering my friends with literally dozens of messages making fun of this and I need a place to keep it all.

What is “this”? Oh, just some people having some Fucking Strong Opinions about how Harry Potter is the Pied Piper (they use that comparison multiple times. It gets old fast) leading our children into the End Times with its pro-illuminati Satan-worshiping witchcraft lessons. You know, the usual.

And no, this isn’t a battle of Forest vs. the Crazy Christians; I’m like 94% sure I’m not working through any sort of religious trauma, partly because I never went deep into this kind of mentality but mostly because I’m just delighted by The Cutting Edge, a website for a very specific type of Christian (no, not you, Catholics. You’re specifically not invited to the Cutting Edge club because you worship demons) interested in the New World Order, the evils of public schools, and Satan’s favorite color.

No, really.

Satan’s favorite color is green. They don’t . . . really explain why.

This site still exists and is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Hours of fun for the whole family. I mean, look at their logo:

And look at their illustration that goes along with their particular Harry Potter series:

Are you not entertained?!

I cannot stop reading these amazing essays -- which delve surprisingly deep into Potter lore, considering they say that there is no sufficient reason for a Christian to ever read a single page of these books -- and I can’t keep harassing my friends with thousands of notifications, so here we are.

Starting small, let’s read the book review for Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s/Philosopher’s Stone. Or, as they prefer to call it:

This book chronicles Harry's first year at the Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Prepare to be shocked for the bold, blatant, and bodacious raw Satanism that underlines this story! Since "proper"Drug Use is essential in opening the centres of vision and achieving higher consciousness, we should not be surprised that First-Year students learn Drug Use, Drug creation, in a way that makes Drug use seem glorious! You will be shocked to see '666 ' in the story line, and symbols of Antichrist receiving a "fatal wound"!

That’s the entire subtitle. That’s just how they roll on

THE CUTTING EDGE

Part 1: The . . . Plot? I Guess?

This story introduces us to Harry Potter, an orphaned boy sent to live with his "horrible" Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their fat, obnoxious son, Dudley.

I feel very comfortable with the fact that Cutting Edge has chosen to put scare quotes around the word “horrible,” like that’s up for debate. Combined with the very normal and sane opinions expressed elsewhere on the site, this really bodes well for their ideas about parenting and childcare in general.

all through this book, any non-witch folk -- like Vernon and Petunia -- are depicting in disgusting language.

Typo is theirs, as is the apparent offense they take to the fictional depiction of people who are very much not real. While there hasn’t been any exciting formatting going on yet in this essay, I will replicate it as much as possible, and any changes made will be clearly indicated through square brackets and ellipses.

Non-witch people are known as Muggles , and they are depicting as being "dumber than a box of rocks", of being physically obscene, and of living the most boring, unimaginative lives possible.

I was going to argue that this isn’t true, but I suppose we don’t really meet any cool Muggles in the first book. I guess I have to give them this, but I don’t feel good about it.

Witches, on the other hand, are depicted as being very smart, very "with it", of being physically normal, and of living wonderfully exciting lives

It bears repeating:

a flashback scene to the time 10 years earlier when Harry's Mom and Dad were psychically murdered by evil Lord Voldemort

Okay. Now I’m no Potterologist, and so I’m hoping any true believers will correct me if I misinterpret the holy texts,* but I don’t think Harry’s parents were psychically murdered by anyone. I’m pretty sure they were quite literally, physically made dead. Just because it’s a beam of magic doesn’t mean it’s not physical anymore, does it? Voldy didn’t Professor-X Harry’s parents and they died of three D10 psychic damage or anything; he just fucking killed them with a wizard gun. Am I wrong here?

*By which I obviously mean Harry Potter. It teaches children how to become Satanists; we’re clearly dealing with a book of immense spiritual relevance.

Skipping a little bit of plot summary, which is a combination of, well, summary of the plot, although Cutting Edge is determined to get Hogwarts’ name wrong, and a little bit of baffling End-Times(?) nonsense thrown in for funsies --

Of course, a Christian would be immediately alerted to this turn of events [in which Harry defeats Voldemort and is scarred] because soon a supernaturally powerful global leader will demand everyone on earth take some sort of a mark in exactly this place on the body.

What?

-- and there’s some weird formatting things going on that I think are supposed to imply something sinister but really just come off as goofy:

They have Harry on a boat headed for nowhere and they had every intention of keeping Harry from ever attending Hogwarts School. However, Harry receives supernatural assistance.

(It’s not letting me do colors on desktop, which is stupid, but that “supernatural” is supposed to be both bold and red)

There’s a long description about the difference between the Real and Fantasy worlds, which apparently Satanists try to live in both of (and so does Harry, making him also a Satanist. This is actually one of the less-stupid arguments Cutting Edge has for Harry’s Satanism, so just go with it) that’s honestly more boring than funny so I’m skipping it. Then we get to a much more fun section: why Rowling’s descriptions of Muggles are . . . teaching children to hate Jesus?

Part 2: Rowling Hates Muggles

Rowling consistently depicts people who do not practice Witchcraft in most obnoxious terms. They are depicted as being really, really dumb, boring, and living a life not worth living . We share these examples, below, with you so you can appreciate the truth of this statement. Uncle Vernon was also the only Muggle quoted in the book as being really opposed to Witchcraft; therefore, when readers see how stupid, ugly, and boring Vernon is, they get the idea that all people who are opposed to Witchcraft must be as stupid, ugly, and boring as Vernon is.

... Are all people opposed to Witchcraft cowardly bullies?

I mean, you are the one going after a children’s book for daring to entertain children, so if the shoe fits . . .

"Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang ... Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader." [p. 31] How do you know your own child does not think of you in these terms? After all, you are a non-magical Muggle.

I actually can’t complain, because this is just accurate. I 100% hate my parents and think they’re stupid because they’re not literally witches/wizards. Our relationship has never fully recovered.

"Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on." [p. 47] Remember Adolf Hitler, the most famous Black Magick wizard in modern history? He depicted Jews as Rats in his Propaganda Machinery, convincing the Germans they should extermination the "vermin".

GODWIN’S LAW HAS LANDED!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING OUTSIDE OR IN-BETWEEN, WE HAVE OFFICIALLY COMPARED HARRY POTTER TO HITLER!

We find it highly interesting that, later in the book, when the Evil Lord Voldemort is supposedly killing the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest, the color of the blood of the unicorn is silver!

Okay, but like . . . why? I mean, it immediately follows a description of the Bloody Baron, who is depicted with silvery blood because he’s, like, a ghost, but I’m not sure what that has to do with unicorns or with Satan. Are unicorns associated with Satan? Is silver associated with Satan?

Is everything Satan? Am I Satan?

There’s a lot of rage at a gentleman named Chuck Colson throughout this section, who apparently made the grave error of telling parents it was okay for their children to read Harry Potter because it doesn’t involve contact with the supernatural. And I’ll admit, that seems like a pretty bad defense of the books, because if you define “supernatural” as ghosts, poltergeists, or whatever the hell Voldemort is, then there is absolutely a metric buttload of supernatural stuff in here.

Arguably, a better defense of why it’s okay for children to read these children’s books is that they are books made for children, but YMMV on that one. Probably depends on whether or not you think children are sitting in the giant metaphorical (or literal? Not sure Cutting Edge gets metaphors) lap of the Antichrist every time they pick up the books.

(A visual reminder.)

Part 3: Basically Part 2, But This Time There Are Colors

The next section is on colors, which are very important to Cutting Edge. As linked back in the very beginning of this post, there is an entire essay devoted to the demonic colors used in the Harry Potter books, but we get just a taste of it here:

Rowling makes use of vivid colors in her story line. Some of these colors are consistent with the colors preferred by Satan and his followers in the Occult. Rowling's use of such vivid colors also enables her to paint the Fantasy Reality of Witchcraft as THE most exciting place to live. Wizard of Oz uses the same technique: when Dorothy is in her real world in Kansas, the color is black and white, but when she steps into her Fantasy Reality, the scene explodes in the most wonderful color.

Interesting interpretation. An alternative view is that Rowling needs to use more descriptors for things within the Wizarding World, because her readers won’t have the same frame of reference to draw from that they do with real-life objects and events in the Muggle World, and one can assume that these lovely descriptions are part of her being a, y’know, good and evocative writer, and the colors are just related to how she pictured the world she was creating.

But I mean, yours is good, too.

Actually, the citations provided by Cutting Edge don’t depict anything especially vivid; it’s not like she’s throwing massive amounts of purple prose at the descriptions of the Satanic green of Harry’s eyes. In fact, the only enhancer used is “emerald” at one point. For the most part, this essayist is just . . . noticing when the word “green” appears in the text and calling it a siren song to entice good Christian children out of the colorless world of reality and goodness and into the technicolor dreamland of magic and mayhem.

Also, please remember that Satan has a favorite color, and it’s green. For all birthdays and Christmases (or wait, whatever the Satanic version of Christmas is! Halloween?), please make sure all gifts are green or green-adjacent.

Even though Harry is nearly as powerful as a Black Magick practitioner, and could easily have decided to go over to that side, he declines to go over to the Dark Arts. Dumbledore assures Harry that he is not evil as Lord Voldemort. However, as a symbol of the Black Arts he could perform, Rowling makes Harry's eyes green.

This observation -- and I use the term loosely -- implies that every single Slytherin and villain of the Harry Potter series would have green eyes, to demonstrate their capacity for evil. The fact that this is obviously not the case must just be a red herring.

Part . . . 4, I think?: Drugs, Magic, and Magic Drugs

Harry and his friends learn how to makedrugs, and the glory of taking them.

The fact that they don’t actually take any in this book is entirely irrelevant. (”Drugs” should also be red as well as bolded. It’s very serious business.)

The plant, wormwood, contains thujone, an hypnotic drug, banned by the FDA since 1915 [Christian News, "Latest Potter Book Meets Cautionary Response From Christians, July 17, 2000] ; further, wormwood is used to make Absinthe, a hallucinogenic liquor. Therefore, the drug to which Rowling makes reference is very real, and is so dangerous the FDA has banned it -- to this day, it is banned!

While thujone was illegal at the time of this essay in the United States, it was actually never banned in the UK . . . you know, where these books take place and were written? I don’t think Rowling gives a solitary fuck about our FDA standards. Also, I don’t know if you could just straight-up buy wormwood on whatever the equivalent of Amazon was in 1998 (was it just Amazon?), but you sure can now. Can’t be all that scary.

You can hardly get a better description of drug use, and drug glorification than this!

I wonder why they keep using red to emphasize all these evil things . . . you’d think they’d go with Satan’s favorite color/the sign that Harry is the Antichrist to really jazz up all of the evil.

"The drug message in this book is clear. To reach your goals in life like Harry Potter, you need to know how to make drugs and take drugs in just the right way or else you are a 'dunderhead' and will never succeed." [http://www.fflibraries.org/Book_Reports/HarryPotter ; written by a physician and father who asked to remain anonymous].

The fact that this URL doesn’t lead me to that review is one of the saddest things I’ve faced all month.

The sections on spellcasting are far less interesting, reiterating a pretty simple refrain: all magic is bad, because the books say some magic is good then the books are bad, it’s all teaching children about Satanism. Rinse and repeat.

During final exams, teachers passed out special quills with which to write; these quills had been "bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell". The reason none of the teachers felt they could trust the honor of the students to not cheat is obvious enough; in Witchcraft, no Absolute Good and Evil exists. All objective, eternal standards of conduct and morality have been rejected. Therefore, teachers knew full well that all the students would cheat on their final exams if they thought they could get away with it. It is a sad commentary that teachers had to place an Anti-Cheating spell on the quills to prevent exams cheating. Christian parent, is this the "morality" you want your students to learn?

Now, it might just be my obvious Satanist addiction to witchcraft talking, but doesn’t it seem more likely that there’s an anti-cheating spell because sometimes . . . children cheat? And no amount of Good Wholesome Christian Teaching is going to completely eradicate the desire to cheat on a test, because of course it isn’t.

It’s not because the school has taught the students that cheating is okay and cool and sexy or whatever -- in fact, if you want evidence that there is an absolute moral standard against cheating, it would be that the teachers are actively taking steps to prevent it! If witchcraft really was all about how there’s no such thing as good and evil . . . well, for one thing they wouldn’t teach Defense against the motherfucking Dark Arts, but they also wouldn’t care if their students cheated enough to provide anti-cheating quills, because they wouldn’t consider cheating a bad thing, because they wouldn’t consider anything a bad thing!

Also, I’m not sure what listing all of the spells in the book and what they do really says about Satanism, except that . . . spells exist, and are used? Which I feel like you should really expect from the book about magic and wizards; if that’s an alarming surprise, then you’ve made a wrong turn somewhere way earlier down the road.

Part whatever: Seriously, Rowling is just ALL ABOUT Satan

This entire section is basically about how JKR must be a Satanist, because she apparently depicts the world of magic and the occult with perfect accuracy, and how could she do that except through being an active practicing witch herself?

Mirrors are believed to be a portal to another dimension, including Time. Occultists believe they can go forward or backward in Time with a mirror being one of the Dimensional Portals. Harry encounters a mirror, "magnificent ... as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet ... Harry stepped in front of it. He had to clasp his hand to his mouth to stop himself from screaming ... for he had seen, not only himself in the mirror but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him ... 'Mom?', he whispered. 'Dad?' They just looked at him, smiling ... Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life." [p. 208-9]

Intriguing theory, except of course for the fact that the mirror isn’t a portal to jack shit; unless you count the weird trick where he can get the stone (and only the stone) through wishes or whatever the fuck these idiots do, and all it does is show someone what they want. It’s not actually reaching into the past to find Harry’s parents or whatever, just like it’s not actually reaching into a parallel dimension future where Ron is the king of everything. It’s just . . . idk, reading their subconscious and throwing up a neat visual or something. With magic. It’s complex, but it’s definitely not what Cutting Edge says it is.

Not pictured: a portal to another physical, metaphysical or temporal dimension. It’s literally . . . just a mirror, but a mirror that reflects your insides instead of your outsides. It’s clever or something.

Do you realize Rowling has just made the creator of the Sorcerer's Stone 666 years old? Do you realize what this means? Since the number, '666', is a symbol of Antichrist and his Mark of the Beast [Revelation 13:18] and since Rowling ties this number to the Elixir of Life, Harry Potter is teaching children that the way to achieve eternal life [Elixir of Life] is to obey the Antichrist and take his Mark of the Beast!

Fucking. Yes. I don’t even have witty commentary for this, I’m just delighted by every word in that section. I’m smiling so much.

This is a gift and we’re reading it for free!

Wonderful! We have the forbidden practice of drinking blood in this Potter book, forbidden in Scripture [Genesis 9:4-5] but practiced regularly in Satanism. I wonder if Chuck Colson, Focus On The Family, and Christianity Today ever told their Christian followers about this? Have they even read this book, before they issued their acceptance of Potter?

Don’t you dare try to employ sarcasm. People who believe in the Illuminati and New World Order are not allowed to be sarcastic -- even if the thought of this faceless stranger typing that little clever “Wonderful!” and smirking to themselves about how witty they are is a very, very good mental image.

Also, what the fuck did unicorns do to deserve being associated with the Antichrist? I mean, I get the color green; it’s the color of nature and the outdoors, and that shit fucking sucks. (Fuck you, trees!) But unicorns?

Unicorns have never done anything to anyone, ever. Unicorns couldn’t be Satanists if they tried.

This means evil Lord Voldemort -- whose killing curse upon Harry, his Mom, and his Dad had rebounded against him when Harry did not die -- is near death, and is seeking to drink the Unicorn's blood to stay alive long enough to finally achieve eternal life through drinking the '666' Elixir of Life.

Yes, that is -- sort of -- the plot of this book.

This is the specific New Age doctrine being taught here: people will have to draw their temporary spiritual life from The Christ until the time comes when their individual consciousness will have been raised so much they will achieve their personal godhood, and live forever!

This concept is genuine New Age, is consistent with prophecy, and Rowling depicts it very well!

Christian parents, do you want your child to be taught this New Age doctrine? Can you see Harry Potter playing the Pied Piper and leading your children straight to the Mark of the Beast?

Pied Piper count: 1 (that’s not a lot so far, but it’s used in like every essay. It’ll come back)

I don’t know how to tackle this, because I’m not sure Cutting Edge really understands that Voldemort is the bad guy in these books. Children aren’t going to read this book and then go, “Cool! I’m gonna go stab a unicorn and drink its essence because my favorite role model You-Know-Who told me to!”

The unicorn blood thing is unilaterally portrayed as a pretty bad move. Voldemort’s goals in general are pretty obviously not great ideas. I know Cutting Edge doesn’t have the benefit of hindsight here, but Voldemort’s quest for immortality and how bad and wrong and fucked-up that is, is kind of one of the major through-lines of the entire story. It could be argued that it’s not Voldy’s desire to live forever that’s wrong so much as his whole, like, genocide thing, which is legit . . . except that all the methods to attain immortality involve killing someone, or stealing something, or otherwise being Not a Good Dude.

Voldemort is Not a Good Dude, and I don’t know how to communicate that any clearer than the books written for third graders already did.

Part 6: I don’t really know, I just wanted a chance to break this endless essay up and this seemed like a good place to do it. So let’s talk about spells some more

Many spells require both the taking of drugs and demonic possession, so it is a matter of gravest importance that Harry is actually going to learn to cast spells. When Chuck Colson dismisses the casting of spells as innocent and of no real importance, did he know this fact?

I seem to have missed the part where Harry goes off his ass on LSD and gets possessed by B’aal. Was that in the Silmarillion?

whenever a witch changes the physical characteristics of something, he or she is practicing very high-level witchcraft, has a high level of demonic possession, and has had to carry out human sacrifice themselves or have someone else do it for them.

“It’s fiction” is often a bullshit excuse to justify bad framing, but I feel like it applies here, because maybe in the “real” world spellcasting requires you to trip balls and summon demons, but it’s extremely obvious that it doesn’t work like that in Harry Potter! You can’t just say that’s what the books are teaching when the books aren’t actually teaching anything even close to that!

(I’m starting to feel like my emphasis italics are having a similar effect to Cutting Edge’s red bolded letters. Fuck if I’m gonna stop using them, though.)

If Harry and his pals were wearing goat heads and putting virgins into a giant blender or something I think you might have an argument here, but when the people reading your essay have eyes and can see that the things you’re describing aren’t anywhere in the books, you’re just lying. And it’s very obvious, and I still love you, Cutting Edge, but you’re being disingenuous and it’s starting to kill my joy-boner to constantly have to point out the ways you’re misunderstanding a children’s book, especially when I think you’re kinda doing it on purpose. So how about you chill just a little bit and we’ll all read some Harry Potter together.

Magical Drafts and Potions , by Arsenius Jigger. Some of the potions are very real, very deadly.

Wait, did Rowling publish this one, too? How do you know what’s in the book? Does the book list some real potions and how to make them, or is this another thing that’s only available in the Cutting Edge’s copy of the books?

Students were told they could also "bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad." [p. 67] These three creatures are important to an occultists. Satanists have always revered the cat because of its reputed "nine lives", which is a symbol of reincarnation. Cats are also symbols of a witch's familiar spirit.

They have revered the frog because his prominent bulging eyes represent the All-seeing nature of Lucifer. Frogs are also consistently used in many of the potions witches concoct. They revere owls as a symbol of occult wisdom and omniscience -- again because of their eyes.

So fuck cats, I guess. They’re being pretty unfair to owls and frogs too -- especially insulting their poor eyes. They can’t help it! -- but I’m a crazy cat lady and I’m not feeling this slander.

Actually . . . my cat looks pretty high right now. Maybe she is channeling Satan.

Okay, never mind. Fuck all these animals. They’re all evil. This article is entirely right, and I renounce all of my previous statements.

McGonagall has obviously mastered her Craft because she was the tabby cat seen by Uncle Vernon reading a map, back in chapter one. Remember that any time a witch or wizard practices transfiguration, they need expert spell-casting, and demonic possession. I bet no one ever told you that little fact, did they?

No, they didn’t, because it’s not even remotely relevant to the fictional book written for children.

Like, I’m trying very hard to not question anyone’s religious beliefs, so if you believe in the occult and magic and all that then more power to you, and maybe it’s totally valid to think that real-life magic spells requires demonic possession. That doesn’t make it true in the books, though! Stop making shit up!

Potions Class -- taught in one of the dungeons [p. 136] How disgusting must the atmosphere for this class, and others, taught in a dungeon, which was built to torture people to death?

If only the classroom, teacher, and overall environment for the Potions classes was meant to be as viscerally unpleasant as possible. Then putting them in the dungeons would be a really good idea, to reflect the Slytherins’ backwards beliefs and the misery of their intolerance.

Like, JKR isn’t this subtle. When you name one of your antagonists “Bad Dragon,” you’re not aiming for this subconscious-symbolism bullshit.

Part 7: Did you think this book had a good moral? Fuck you!

The fundamental occult/Communist philosophy

Well, I guess we’re talking about Communism now! Because if there’s anything Harry Potter is interested in above all else, it’s Communism.

My favorite things about these essays is how they will pull in other social ills -- abortion, public schools, communism -- and slap them into their argument regardless of if it makes any semblance of sense.

Anyway, Cutting Edge actually has a legitimate argument here, although they take it about 50 steps too far:

the "Ends Justify The Means" permeates this entire book. To achieve a goal deemed good, Harry and his friends consistently break rules, steal, and use Witchcraft against others.

It is true that Harry and his friends break the rules, lie, and otherwise do “bad” things in the service of an ultimate good, and that they suffer relatively few consequences for it. This is a legitimate point, and actual people who know things agree.

I’ve been struck speechless by this article before, but this is the first time it’s because I think they might have an actual point.

Hermione was very mildly punished [for her lie to the professors about why they were fighting the troll], but her lie cemented a friendship with Ron and Harry, leading a child to conclude that her lie served an excellent purpose, and could not be considered 'wrong'.

I mean . . . yeah? I don’t think it’s entirely reasonable to assume that children will take that lesson away, but I read it as a child and I certainly didn’t think Hermione was wrong to lie -- nor do I now, which I suppose proves just how powerful the Satanic conditioning was.

Professor Quirrell told Harry, "There is no good or evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it ." [p. 291] This is standard Witchcraft, and standard Illuminist doctrine. This doctrine is the guiding light to those Illuminists who are driving the world into the Kingdom of Antichrist. This doctrine is very seductive to those immature children trying to grow up in our current culture; since a child's inherent nature is evil, he will find such philosophy more appealing than the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Christian parents, beware!

Oh thank God Satan, we’re back to the bullshit. I was getting seriously weirded out by the idea that they had good points buried in here somewhere, but now we’re just faced with the argument that the bad guy says . . . bad things . . . and is defeated because his bad ideas are obviously bad and wrong . . . and this proves that the book is teaching children to believe the bad things?

No one reads these books and wants to be the bad guys, Cutting Edge. Kids aren’t buying Harry Potter wands and robes to pretend that they’re Quirrell, trying to keep people from finding out they have a Dark Lord on the back of their head. (Though now that I’ve mentioned it, that sounds like a very fun game.)

Depicting bad things in a way that makes it clear -- to children, I must reiterate -- that they’re bad isn’t the same thing as romanticizing or promoting those bad things. This is basic stuff, CE.

Revenge Motive : "Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More , by Vindictus Viridian." [p. 80] Throughout these books, seeking revenge and attacking your enemies is high on the priority list of Harry, his friends, and other students. Do you want your children to adopt this most Satanic attitude? Notice the first name of the author of this revenge book, above, is named "Vindictus, i.e., Vindictive".

Students are taught to depend upon Witchcraft for every part of their lives . All food is conjured up rather than prepared, all the dishes are conjured clean, and even the hospital depends upon Witchcraft to get students well [p. 156]. Neville Longbottom, one of the more clumsy students, received a crystal ball from his grandmother called a Remembrall . The ball glows scarlet if you have forgotten something you should have done. [p. 145]

That’s . . . fuck, that’s actually kind of another good point. Stop kinda making sense, goddamn it!

A lot of the criticism is just that the things wizards do are cool, which will make kids want to become witches/wizards in order to do those cool things, too. And to be fair, the stuff Harry et. al. does are cool, and I did want to be a witch when I grew up. Fortunately, I was in third grade, and so my options for witchcraft were relatively limited; by the time I was old enough to pursue the endeavor properly, I was also old enough to know that it was actually nothing like Harry Potter. If magic actually was anything like those books make it seem, we’d have a lot more witches running around, zapping shit.

Possible reference to homosexuality . When I was first researching Harry Potter, I examined several pro-Potter websites. The author of one of the articles said that one of the probable developments she felt would occur in the latter books was the advent of homosexuality in the story theme. She said such activity was only hinted at in the first books.

Oh dear god, Cutting Edge found the shippers. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

(I wonder if this means they’ve also read the Draco Trilogy.)

I do have to take issue with one last point in this bit about morals, where they talk about how scarring it might be to a child to see Voldemort possessing the back of Quirrell’s head:

Rowling could not have created a better description of demonic possession by a dark and powerful demon! Christian parent, is this the type of thing you want your child to bring into their minds?

Thing is, I’ve been in a lot of Christian circles for most of my life, and this sounds exactly like the kind of dark, traumatizing thing many religious parents would be happy to put into their children’s minds.

Part Almost Done: Definitely Intentional Satanic Symbols, Really

Hey, did you know the number 11 was occultist? I didn’t, and when I Googled it, 4 of the front-page results were Christian or conspiracy groups making this claim, 2 were unclear, and 3 actually seemed to indicate some level of belief in the power of the number 11. Though I might’ve stacked the deck with the word “occult”; when I changed my search term to “magic,” I found almost exclusively positive articles about the symbolic power of the number 11, so . . . Cutting Edge isn’t necessarily wrong.

But boy, did you know how many times the number 11 shows up in Sorcerer's Stone? Not very much, but if we stretch our credibility a little bit, we might see something spooky!

Harry was eleven (11) when he was admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The number eleven is considered sacred to the occultist, as it is the first primary number. Occultists will also add up numbers to get an occult number that is sacred; thus, I was highly interested when the bank vault maintained for Harry by his Mom and Dad before their death was numbered '713' [p. 73]. When you add '7 + 1 + 3 = 11'. Then, we learn that, in the money of the Fantasy Reality, "twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle". When you add 2 + 9 = 11.

When Harry found the wand that was meant for him, it turned out to be 11 inches long! [p. 84]

The Hogwarts Express Train left at 11 o'clock from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. [p. 91]

Oh man, that’s some convincing evidence. Evidence of what, I have no idea, but it uses math and I’m sure it’s very alarming!

" Sorcerer's Stone " is also called the "Philosopher's Stone", and is very, very Satanic! Rosicrucianism teaches that an Initiate will pass through five stages to become the highest Adept possible, to be most proficient in exercising the power of Satanism. They call this process the "Five Stages In The Transmutation of the Soul". The final stage is depicted by the Phoenix Bird; the Adept is then said to have achieved the "Sorcerer's Stone". Thus, the fact that the term, "Sorcerer's Stone" is in the title of this book suggests that the ultimate goal of all students at Hogwarts is to achieve the Sorcerer's Stone.

Wow, that sure is an interesting interpretation of the rock that shows up in the book for like 6 pages and then is immediately destroyed! Alternate theory, if you’re open to it: It’s a rock, named the Philosopher’s Stone because the Philosopher’s Stone is historically the name of a rock, called the philosopher's stone, and it's literally just a rock and doesn't mean anything Satanist because it's a fucking ROCK.

(Pictured: A rock)

There’s a really odd part right after the long discussion about how alchemy and unicorns and whatnot are Satanic Illuminati symbols, where CE just takes a moment to explain the game of Quidditch. No commentary beyond a sassy little “[Even the Quidditch balls are 'enchanted'].” Just . . . sort of letting you know how the game is played.

To be fair, this is quite a valuable service, since I don’t think anyone actually understands how Quidditch works, but I’m not sure what it’s doing sandwiched between two declarations of Harry Potter’s obvious evil.

PART THE LAST THANK GOD: WHO THE FUCK NEEDS A SUBTITLE IT’S ALMOST OVER

The first few paragraphs are standard boilerplate conclusion stuff, reiterating the rest of the story, continued misunderstanding that bad things are done by the bad guys, no there really are drugs and Illuminati propaganda in here I promise, yadda yadda. Nothing noteworthy except for the fact that I found this sentence absolutely hilarious:

But, most horribly, we see depictions of Satanism that are truly End of the Age. We see the symbol of Antichrist, the Unicorn.

And so I leave you with this one final thought, because it’s all I can fit into the saggy mush that was once my brain:

From Genesis through Revelation, God demands His people separate themselves from the evil around them! SEPARATE! SEPARATE! SEPARATE!

S E P A R A T E

#harry potter #hp #rowling #jkr #this doesn't really count as fandom history does it?#i did discover this amazing site through f_w #tagging this as Christianity would be mean i think #but i'm ignoring the wank mostly and sticking to the FACTS #'facts' like 'harry potter's eyes are the color of satan'#WAKE UP SHEEPLE #this is the world's longest post and i'm not sure it's interesting to anyone except me #i got very tired at the end of this can you tell #i refuse to even consider editing this #you will take my thoughts as i have them #if the 'read more' doesn't show up IT IS NOT MY FAULT I FUCKING PUT IT THERE I SWEAR IT #quotes aren't showing up on mobile #can't do red text or fun fonts on desktop #this post is a goddamn disaster and it's what both i and this essay deserve

12 notes · View notes

pinkletterday · 5 years

Text

Writer's Year In Review

This year has been a revelation. I went from deeply, irrevocably believing I can't write fiction at all to knowing that I'm actually pretty good at it!

It's given me the confidence to find work as a freelance writer and editor in real life, after years of unemployment and anxious paralysis resulting from chronic illness and trauma. A lot of other factors also helped but the fic writing played a huge role in getting my shit together.

General Fic Stats:

Word Count on AO3: 92284

Fics posted to AO3: 23

Favourite Fic:

Kiss It Better (Westallen).This fic is my baby. I love little Iris and little Barry in it so much, the hurt and confusion in each other they attempted to heal, how that healing carried into their adult love and family. It will always and always be my favourite thing I have ever written. Wee!stallen is my jam, and the reason I ship them so damn hard.

Do Not Go Gentle (Westallen). Ngl, I love this for the sheer amount of truly gratifying comments. Every single one of them have been emotional and flaily. It all makes me feel like I may have finally levelled up. Hallelujah. xD

Funniest Fic:

The Care and Feeding (Queenwestallen). This is my ultimate OT3. This fic, written as a list and discussion is 95% humour and contains some of my best banter and (I feel) characterization. An element I'm really proud of is how I managed to center and include all their important non-romantic relationships in their conversations. Iris's boisterous female friends, Oliver's friends, Cisco and Caitlin's snarky commentary all shoehorned themselves into the list with hilarious and wholesome results.

It's not a popular OT3 but I feel like it's a good first attempt to drag this ship to water. xD

Cutest Fic:

Dancing Queen (Olivarry). Even after a year this contiues to be the fic with the highest kudos ratio (except for the more recent one) and the second most bookmarked. I love getting comments on this because they are all some variation of "my teeth hurt. I have diabetes!" xD Well, I did build it around a rainbow sprinkle icing sugar donut, but there is a significant dollop of angst there in the middle. A flangst donut.

Your Vigil In My Keeping (Westallen). This fic has less than 200 hits but has the highest kudos ratio of all. I guess kid fic isn't everyone's cup of tea, but Wee!stallen is cute af yo. I headcanon the origins of Barry and Iris's steadfast partnership in this story, where her faith and belief in him is as strong as his protectiveness of her, all tied up in the language and innocence of children.

Kinkiest Fic:

WA Smut and Kink Collection. I literally just posted this yesterday lol. So far it's just a face-sitting short, but I have quite a few hard and soft kinks lined up. Westallen needs more hard smut tbh, and they have such a unique powerfully loving dynamic that every kink I'm writing has required me to come at it a little bit sideways with a whole lot of emotional focus.

Saddest Fic:

Three fics I can't choose from.

Do Not Go Gentle (Westallen). This is basically Iris's grief and fear in a raging tempest, and it's strongly implied that the future Nora has warned them of will come to pass regardless of what they do. The fact is that there already is and will be a timeline where Iris loses Barry, just as there must be one where she won't, because that is the nature of potentiality.

The Paradigm of Uncertainty (Westallen). This was a drabble almost, that ruminates on the probability that speedsters do not erase timelines but abandon them, along those versions of their loved ones. It's as @rkwago's brilliant comment says: "Iris hurts in so many weird, cosmic ways that her life is almost an eldritch horror house," which is the most perfect description ever of what it means to be a time traveller's wife.

The Universal Constant (Gen, background WA). A lot of people find the way Barry goes off on Joe cathartic in this fic, and so do I. But it's not so simple. I don't think Joe was wrong to form the views he did, or that anyone was in the wrong really. As @sophiainspace pointed out, it's a mediation of grief and love, their parallels and continuations between parents and children and lovers. The fact that it takes Henry's death for Barry to find the adult language to articulate to Joe why he will always believe in his father's innocence is a tragedy that cuts three ways.

(This fic is also the reason I have a folder in my drive marked "how to get away with murder" and probably a likely reason to get me arrested one day. xD)

Most Popular Fic:

Strangers In The Cold (Coldflash). The Coldflash fandom is a joy to feed. This was my first smut fic which was preceded by an entire chapter of banter about nothing in particular (except it ended up establishing a background that gave birth to the Coldflash vs Olivarry polyam series) And holy wow, for a newbie writer, the response has been amazing. Looking back, I wince at a lot of writing mistakes and its undeniably rough, but it really bolstered my confidence.

(I feel a little guilty that all my other CF stories are still in my WiP folder while I update the polyam series at snail's pace.)

The Shape of Us (Westallen). I wrote this on tumblr half-asleep one night, half as a rambly headcanon...and woke up to literally one hundred freaking notes. What the hell. Now at over 260, it's the most popular fic I've ever posted on tumblr.

I never consciously intended it to be a body-positivity fic but apparently women really relate to the insecurities of growing older and watching our bodies change with marriage, children and the sheer hectic pace of life. Even my non-fandom friends reblogged it simply for its representation of "real women". Barry's response is my own wish fulfillment fantasy; the sort of total acceptance and validation that we wish we could hear it the times we can't find it in ourselves. In light of the virulent body-shaming Candice Patton has been subjected to ever since she was revealed to have gained a fuller figure in S5, I'm very glad to have written it.

Least Popular Fic:

Carry On (Gen) This character study of Oliver Queen only has 135 hits a year after posting, which is par for the course with gen. But has a solid 12% kudos ratio, which means it's probably as good as I think it is. It's one of my favourite and easiest fics I have ever written.

Love Me Like You Do (Olivarry) Lordy, if my first Coldflash smut filled me with confidence, my first Olivarry smutfic all but ruined it. I struggled with it for a long time, unlike SitC, which I suppose shows in the over-descriptions. I got carried away with the quipping and I guess Barry topping at all is really not popular with slash fans?

Still, I'm honestly toying with the idea of deleting and rewriting it. At least it was a learning experience - don't write smut unless it makes you feel horny yourself.

Most Challenging Fic:

Do Not Go Gentle (Westallen). I think the reason stories you knock off in two hours are instantly popular while the ones you slaved over for weeks barely get any attention is because the process is reflected in the ease of reading. But this one is an exception. It was an absolute monster, taking three weeks and several revisions to wrestle into submission - and it paid off in spades! Going by the response, I seem to have achieved the wow factor I was going for.

My only regret is that I posted it on tumblr before the last revision that finally made it work, so that too many readers saw the lacklustre version rather than the polished one.

Honorable Mention:

A Stitch In Time (Olivarry for now, eventual Queenwestallen) Baby's first multi-chapter! Admittedly chapters 3 and 4 have been languishing in my drive for a few months now and this thing has 100% more deleted scenes and outtakes posted to my tumblr than the actual story on AO3. But I'm so proud of it! I learned to write action scenes because of it, how to write climaxes, dream sequences, news articles and tell a story in several different formats. It made me rediscover my empathy for Felicity and write her as a PoV character, think deeply on Laurel Lance's losses and give voice to her struggles, and explore how a real friendship and understanding could evolve between Oliver and Iris out of their mutual love for Barry. (Centering female characters within manpain narratives, ftw! Otoh, I centered Iris so much it veered off the Olivarry rails into Queenwestallen territory on its own)

There is so much meaty conflict and delicious looming disaster in this story that I'm determined going to keep at it, even if slow and steady. If only to bring the light of Barry/Iris/Oliver into the world. xD

Holding On (Olivarry). This real-world disability AU deals with chronic and mental illness and the precariousness and personal demons of that reality. I tore out the rawest parts of my life for this fic and put them on display so that I couldn't bear to show it to anyone for a year after it was written.

I'm very glad I did finally brush it off and put it up because it has struck a chord with so many people, especially other Spoonies. The low number of hits on a fic that deals in hurt/comfort rather stings, as I can't help but think the disinterest is because of the "disability" and "neurodivergence" tags. But I still think it's one of the best things I've written and one I'll always be proudest of.

General Reflections:

Things I've learned over the past year of writing:

- Self-deprecation is not my friend. I need to be honest enough with myself to acknowledge when my writing is good, because either I self-validate and build confidence or I become a black hole of insecurity where validation goes to die. And if I think I'm a bit better than I actually am, it's not just okay but necessary to believe it.

- What I call writer's block is perfectionism, anxiety and physical and mental fatigue. If I don't eat, sleep, hydrate and acheive a relaxed mental state, I won't be able to write.

- Momentum is more my friend than any amount of inspiration and motivation. Sitting my ass down and make it a habit to churn out X number of words a day, even bad writing, will do more to help me than polishing an idea to a high shine.

- If I don't forgive myself for the stories I can't write I'll never write anything. I am doing this for free, to share the love and joy and therefore obligated to no one.

- I'm capable of writing things I don't have the first idea how to write. My fingers on a keyboard can paint the picture my brain can't visualize.

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, but I am going to make it a personal goal to write at least 15k words per month, learn to stick to a posting schedule where possible. and end next year with an additional 150k words posted.

To everyone who follows this blog, commented, reblogged and liked my posts - I see and remember and appreciate every one of you. You're the reason I feel seen and valued and why I am motivated to keep writing through all the difficulties life throws at me. <3<3<3

#the flash #myfic #fanfic #westallen #olivarry #arrow #oliver queen x barry allen #personal #barry allen x iris west #coldflash #queenwestallen #leonard snart x barry allen #oliver queen x iris west #writing #meme #review #year in review #happy new year #pinknote

11 notes · View notes

spideeysense · 6 years

Text

Bathroom Feelings

Peter x Reader

A/N: Man I had fucking good time writing this! I know the title isn’t really enticing but i tried :P. Im sorry im absolute shit at titles. BYOB means “Bring your own booze” I linked the song I was listening to in the fic. Hope you all enjoy!! <3 -Bean. EDIT: So for some reason when i put this on tumblr the format got messed up. I went back and italicized anything that should be, however I might’ve missed one or two! Who do you want to see me write for next? Request!

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Lots of crying from both Peter and Y/N. Underage drinking. If you squint really hard theres some light smut, its more like making out.

Summary: Peter and the Reader have been best friends since high-school, and Y/N had hoped for it to become something more, and it almost did. But junior year Peter changed, and they have drifted apart ever since. It’s halfway through senior year, and Peter and Reader run into each other at party..in the bathroom?

It all started junior year. Peter became more extroverted, he put effort into making more friends, and became more muscular, more attractive. Ned, M.J and Y/N knew he was drifting away when he blew them off to hang out with the more popular kids. At first it was just every other week, then it became every Friday, and soon enough Peter just stopped hanging out with them at all. Y/N knew he was gone when he stopped eating lunch with them, which had been the most consistent contact they had with him until he stopped. It was harsh, so so harsh, it was the slowest kind of burn. Peter dropping out of Y/N’s life without an actual reason hurt like hell. She thought it was because of her, maybe she was too clingy, too needy. Y/N, MJ, and Ned, made a pact to never abandon each other. Sure they had other friends, but they always hung out together, and were basically inseparable.

Tonight, Y/N had decided to go to a party, held by someone named Josh. Ned and MJ were both unavailable, so she decided to go alone and meet up with a few of her other friends there. She pulled her silver 2009 Subaru forester up the crowded driveway of the large, suburban house. The BYOB party was being held outside of the city, in some random suburb she couldn’t quite remember the name of, something like Summerwood. She pulled the keys out of the ignition and let out a long breath. This wasn’t her first rodeo, but it was weird not going with Ned or MJ. Y/N reached behind the drivers seat, and pulled out two six packs of beer, which she had gotten from her fridge. Y/N stepped out of the car, one pack of beer in each hand. She approached the large grey house, she nawed on her bottom lip nervously as she got closer to the door. She reached the open door, and was about to enter but she was stopped by an outstretched arm.

“Booze control, I need to check your hands.” A guy said, Y/N recognized him as Jackson, another senior in her Materials Science class. She lifted both her hands, showing Jackson the packs of beer. “Alright, go put it on the counter.” He said nonchalantly, pointing towards the kitchen. Y/N nodded and entered the house. The music was deafeningly loud, it made her heart jump in her stomach. She approached the kitchen and placed the two six-packs on the marble counter. She grabbed a red solo cup, a symbol of american high school parties and poured beer into it. The amber liquid sloshed around as she moved into the living room, the music came from all around her, and students across grades were huddled together. She spotted Flash doing a keg stand, with the help of Peter who was holding his feet up. Around him people were counting, 21, 22, 23, 24. Y/N stared at Peter, who locked eyes with her, his smile faltered a bit, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and she turned and left the room quickly. Peter who had despised Flash so much, was now supporting him. Obviously not in the way one would think, but it still hurt. Seeing Peter and Flash brought back a force of memories from the back of her brain.

“Hey Peter!” Y/N greeted her friend excitedly, her heart was thumping in her chest. She hoped he couldn’t hear her excitement. “Hey Y/N,” Peter said, his voice wasn’t as enthusiastic as hers, but she brushed it off. Peter shuffled through his locked, looking for his binder. “What’s up?” He mumbled. “I was thinking,” Y/N started, toying with the strings of her hoodie, “I got the new Battlefront, and my mom got Ben and Jerry’s, the one with the fudge batter in the middle, and I was thinking maybe you’d like to come over and hang out?”

Peter hesitated for a bit before speaking, his eyes never leaving his locker. “When would that be?” He asked a bit harshly for Y/N’s liking. “Uhm- Friday, after school” She said quietly, stuffing her hands in her pocket. Peter turned and looked at her, his hand went to the back of his neck and he rubbed it nervously. “Listen Y/N, I’m like super busy this weekend, and I’m not really into that anymore.” He confessed, his eyes avoiding hers. Y/N’s heart sank at his words, but she swallowed her sadness and nodded. She showed him a fake smile. “That’s fine,” Her voice came out weaker than she thought it would and her cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. “Peter!” A male voice called out. Peter turned around a smiled. Flash jogged towards the two and clapped him on the back. “You ready?” Flash asked. “Yep, let’s get going.” Peter affirmed and he shut his locker with a loud slam. Peter and Flash walked away, without even say a simple bye to Y/N. She turned and looked helplessly at her distant friend.

Y/N found her way outside. The backyard was just as lively as inside. The grass was littered with red cups and bottles. She spotted her friend Alyssa who had vibrant purple hair. “Hey Alyssa,” Y/N said as she approached the girl.

“Heyy Y/N!” Alyssa said excitedly, “Want to join our Beer Pong game?” She asked enthusiastically and motioned for Y/N to come over. Y/N nodded, a smile on her face. The time passed, she forgot about Peter and the keg stand, and she found herself downing more and getting more and more tipsy. “Hey Alyssa, Ima gonna go to the bathroom” Y/N stated, grabbed a half filled cup and headed back into the house, almost hitting the sliding glass door on her way in. During the time she was gone, the party seemed to have gotten more crowded. Fluorescent Adolescent by the Arctic Monkeys was playing loudly, and she found herself swaying to song. She needed to find a bathroom to re energize, maybe flash her face with cold water. Y/N wandered down a long hallway and kept opening random doors hoping to the find the bathroom. She swung open a door and almost dropped her drink at what she saw. Two people in the back of bathroom were basically on top of each other. They were kissing in a fast and sloppy way, and the girls exposed legs were around the guys hips. Y/N couldn’t see who she was kissing, since her head was blocking the view. The guy that was being kissed looked away and spotted Y/N. She locked eyes with him and realized it was Peter. “Oh my god!” Y/N shrieked, she looked away and winced, “I’m so sorry, I- you guys should’ve locked the door!”

Peter pushed the girl off of him, and the girl turned around and looked disgusted. “How long have you been watching?” The brunette yelled as she gathered her things. “I swear, i just walked in, I’m so so sorry” Y/N babbled. The brunette picked up her abandoned cup and threw it on Y/N, spilling its contents on Y/N’s face and shirt. “You perv!” She hissed and left the bathroom in a rush. The door behind the brunette closed with a soft clicked. The bathroom was almost silent, besides the trickle of beer from Y/N’s clothes which dripped on the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered as she turned to the sink and turned on the tap water. The air became stiff and awkward. Peter stared at her for a moment before acting. “Here, lemme help.” He murmured and grabbed a coral colored towel off the shelf. He moved towards her but Y/N backed up quickly. “I’m fine.” She said harshly and frowned at herself. Peter froze and placed the towel on the counter. She started dabbing the towel on her shirt, and hoped for the best. He moved towards the door to leave but Y/N stopped him. “Peter wait.” She said softly. Peter stopped and looked at her. “What happened between us?” She asked, her voice raspy and fragile, as if it were about to break.

“What do you mean?” Peter questioned.

“What do I mean?” Y/N repeated. “Peter you left! You just completely cut us out of your life!” She cursed.

“I wanted to branch out! What’s wrong with that?” Peter argued, getting closer to her.

“There’s nothing wrong with! I just-” Suddenly she broke down, she wasn’t used to confrontation, in her mind this talk was supposed to happen differently. “I thought you hated me, you blew us off to hang out with Flash and his friends! Of all people!” She let out a sob. Peter was silent, unsure of what to say or how to react.

“We were a team! And you just left us behind in the dust like we were trash!” Y/N yelled, as her sadness and anger mixed and boiled inside of her. She flung her hands up in the air. “What kind of person does that to his friends!” She croaked as the dams flung open, fat tears rushed down her face, and she slid down onto the floor. Y/N placed her head in her hands. She felt vulnerable, embarrassed, angry, sad, all at once. What the fuck did I just do. She let out a frustrated groan as she fumbled with her wet shirt. This whole situation is fucked up. Y/N was 100% sure Peter was just going to leave her in a pool of her own sadness. Instead he sat down on the edge of the tub. He pulled off his denim jacket and handed it down to her, when she didn’t react, he placed it gingerly on her knees.

“I’m sorry Y/N I didn’t know you felt that way.” Peter said, the words left his lips effortlessly. Why did it feel like he didn’t care?

Y/N looked up at him for a short second, her face twisted into disgust. “I’m sorry Y/N I didn’t realize you felt that way, It’s not like I abandoned my best friends who I’ve known forever for people who used to call me Penis” Y/N mimicked. Peter looked baffled. “You know Peter, you need to get your priorities straight.” she spat. Y/N stood up quickly, which made her dizzy and she swayed on her feet. The denim jacket fell to the floor with a muffled thump. Peter reached out and caught her by the arms, Y/N forced herself out of his grip. “I’m going home.” Y/N said as she left the bathroom and into the crowded party.

“Y/N wait!” Peter called after her, he squeezed his way through the crowd.

Y/N left the house and the cold, outside air hit her like brick. A shiver ran down her spine. “Y/N you can’t drive, you’ve had to much!” She heard Peter call out from behind her.

“Bullshit Peter! Like you haven’t had anything!” Y/N bit back, she jammed her key into the lock, and missed a few times, but on the third time it slid in. “Let me drive you home. We can talk.” Peter suggested, his denim jacket slung over his shoulder. His chestnut curls were tousled, and his cheeks were a light pink. “I’m not letting a drunk drive me home!” Y/N explained loudly, her eyes avoided his.

“I’ve barely had anything!” Peter explained. “I swear. Look!” He kept touching his nose with his index finger. This almost drew a smile out of Y/N, but instead she frowned. Everything inside her was telling her to just run, but for some reason, she tossed him the keys. He caught them with ease, and walked over to the drivers side. Y/N moved to the passenger side and slid in. She shut the door and rested her head on the window. Peter started the car with ease, and backed out of the driveway.

(Listen to this while reading the next part if you really want to set the mood)

The car was void of conversation, except for the sound of the windshield wipers brushing off the rain which had started to fall, and the soft voice of Chris Martin which drifted out of the speakers. “Y/N when I said I was sorry, I really was, I really didn’t know you felt that way.” Peter said softly.

“Well that’s how people feel when you abandon them.” She responded, her voice weak from yelling.

“I didn’t abandon-” Peter started before letting out a sigh. “I guess I did.” He said thoughtfully. “So it finally hit you.” Y/N let out, her head still turned away from him.

Peter murmured incoherently. “Flash looked so happy surrounded by all these people, and don’t get me wrong I was so happy with you guys, but I felt like something was missing.” He explained. Y/N stayed silent, unable to come up with anything snarky. “I just thought having more friends could fill this strange void, and soon enough I was surrounded by Flash’s friends and more. I wanted to hang out with you, I really did, I just felt like I had to live up to this social standard.” Peter added, his eyes glancing at you ever so often.

“So we weren’t enough for you Peter? I wasn’t enough for you?” Y/N snapped back.

“I just wanted more friends! More connections! We were only four!” Peter argued in his defense.

“Well maybe I should’ve bought you a scale Peter, since it seems like you need to find balance in your life!” Y/N shot at him. Peter let out a small ouch. “I cared about you Pete and more than a friend way, I really did, and maybe I still do! I don’t even know anymore.” She added, again she felt vulnerable, normally she doesn’t spill her guts to people, but it’s Peter. He always had a way to get her to talk. The car was silent again. Peter let out a sigh as he turned down the familiar street which housed your apartment building. He internally groaned as he realized this ride would come to end. He pulled up in front of the building, and shut off the ignition. The rain was falling harder now, and he really dreaded the walk home. Y/N seemed to have noticed the rain too, and against her brain’s conscious she did what her heart told her too.

“You should come in, to get out of this rain.” She suggested softly. Peter looked at her with shock, even when he had fucked up so badly, she still cared. Peter didn’t think twice. “On 3?” He asked and Y/N nodded. “1..2..3!” Both Peter and Y/N bolted out of the car, they ran towards the apartment building. The rain hit their faces, and soaked their clothes. Y/N pushed open the door and held it for Peter. For a moment, Peter thought he saw a ghost of smile on Y/N’s face.

The elevator ride up to the seventh floor was quiet, both teenagers were standing on opposites side of the elevator. The doors opened with a ding, and they both walked out. Y/N fumbled with her keys when they arrived at the front door, and unlocked the door quietly. “My parents aren’t home so you can be as loud as you want.” Y/N stated nonchalantly. Peter shuffled inside the house, and pulled off his soaking wet shoes, and Y/N did the same. Y/N motioned for him to follow her, and she lead him to her room. “Lemme get you a towel.” She said softly as she left the room and went to the bathroom down the hall. Peter stood in the doorway for a moment, and let the familiar yet intoxicating smell of strawberries fill his nostrils. He stepped into the carpeted room with baby blue walls. Peter noticed it was still the exact same as it was two years ago. Fairy lights strung up above the bed, a few posters on every wall, and the red crate which held Y/N’s favorite records sat in the corner. He realized he missed this room so so much. He let his hands caress the recognizable striped duvet cover, and he sat down on the bed and just let it go. Peter’s hands went to his face to stifle the broken sobs that came out of his mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey” Y/N’s soft voice lilted through his ears. She got on her knees in front of him, and pulled his hands away from his face slowly. “It’s ok,” Y/N shushed as she gathered him in her arms. Peter rested his head on her shoulder, his arms around her back. “God I fucked up so badly.” Peter whispered sadly into her neck. Y/N stayed quiet, her hand caressing his soft curls. “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m sorry I was such a dick to you, and Ned, and Mj.” Peter apologized. “God, I didn’t realized how much I missed this, this place, you,” He confessed, his hands still around her. “P-please forgive me,” He pulled away and looked up at her. His cheeks were pink, and his eyes seem to spill over with tears. At this point Y/N couldn’t help but cry too. She gave him a weak smile.

In the depths of her heart, she realized she still loved him, and now she had the chance to have him back in her life. She wiped away at his tears with her thumbs, and looked away for a moment. Y/N gave him a slow nod. “Ok.” She whispered, “But you can’t blow us off again. Balance Pete.” She explained. When she turned to look at him again, they were just inches apart, their noses barely touching. He placed a soft hand on her cheek, his thumb stroking her upper cheek. “Thank you,” He said quietly. Y/N’s heart was beating right out of her chest. Heavy butterflies seemed to have been unleashed in her stomach, and her cheeks tinged pink.

She was expecting Peter to pull away, stand up and start drying himself off with the towel, but instead the two stayed in that position for a few moments. A comfortable silence had fallen between them. “Can I kiss you?” Peter asked in a hushed voice. Y/N’s breath got caught in her throat and she found herself speechless. She nodded slowly, and before she knew it Peter was kissing her. It was soft, tender, and it seemed to communicate what they were both feeling. His hands held her face gently, not wanting it to go to fast. Peter pulled away too soon for Y/N’s liking, he removed his hands from her face, and took her hand in his.

A smile appeared on Peter’s face, and he looked away in embarrassment. “God I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He said softly. “Well you had your chance at the Winter Ball, but you didn’t show.” Y/N said with a small smile and a roll of her eyes. Peter’s face fell again. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I fucked up. How can I make up to you?” He asked. “Wanna eat Ben and Jerry’s while playing Battlefront? And maybe you can stay the night if you want” Y/N suggested with a smile. Peter grinned, “That sounds like a blast.”

#Peter parker #tom holland #peter parker x reader #x reader #marvel imagines #imagines #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spider-man: homecoming

325 notes · View notes

jennacha · 6 years

Text

here’s a big rant about The Child Thief

ok i have a big confession to make

I’m kind of obsessed with the book The Child Thief.

It’s not a particularly good book. In fact, I would go as far to say it’s poor. The writing has the cadence of 15-year-old-going-through-their-novelist-phase. I guess I could say it reads like fan fiction. The plot is very messy. The characters are badly written. It feels like a book that wasn’t edited. The word “magic” is used a lot, and it’s embarrassing. There’s a part where a character slams their fist on the ground and yells “WHY?!” and it’s embarrassing. The dialogue feels like it came out of a 1990s teen adventure fantasy movie trying to imitate the success of a Corey Feldman/Haim movie. Several times throughout the book the thought, “Why did the author do this?” popped in my head. However, the author is a fantasy illustrator, so the descriptive writing is a plus. He knows how to illustrate the landscape with words as well as he would in painting. The book is not a special unit dumpster fire piece of shit insult to literature; in fact, as far as I know a lot of people like it and it has gotten a decent amount of praise. It’s just not very good, in terms of the surface level writing. But I can easily see a lot of people enjoying it for basic entertainment value.

So that would be my YA-focus blog summary review of the book.

My public outcry summary review of the book is this:

I’m obsessed with the book because it’s so fucking weird.

It’s so fucking weird in that it’s a perfect shitstorm of the author not knowing what he’s doing, and thinking he’s knowing what he’s doing. Like a perfect bad B-movie that exhibits textbook schlock where the director is incompetent and clueless but lacks any self-awareness, in terms of style, layout, and production.

But also, the author thinks what he’s doing is…cool.

The book is about evil Peter Pan.

I could end this whole thing right there. But I must release these hounds. I’ve been needing to let all this out.

My wretched insanity craves affirmation.

This book should be a carbon copy of every other average to below average dark fantasy novel that you see on the bookstore shelves and never heard of and wonder what the author is doing now with all their not-fame. This book should be one that could’ve been written by anybody and it wouldn’t have made a difference. This book should be one of sixty million examples of nothing special. In a way, it is definitely 100% yes definitely yes all those things. The universe decided that I would be the bearer of the burden of having much stronger feelings about it then necessary. I probably feel more strongly about it than the author ever did. It is in my life now.

The biggest thing about this book being so fucking weird is the mind boggling tonal inconsistency. There are a number of shifts in universe-encompassing moods, which go from “Christopher-Nolan-but-also-kind-of-Stephanie-Meyer-dark-gloomy-the-world-is-unhappy-and-I-like-it-that-way”, to “David-Fincher-the-world-is-ACTUALLY-awful”, to “Oh-right-this-is-a-Peter-Pan-story-whimsical-fun-Goonies-meets-Disney-Channel-original”, to “A-worse-version-of-The-Hobbit-movies-with-some-redeeming-qualities”, to “Quentin-Tarantino-literally-wrote-this.” This isn’t hyperbole. The writing language can be REALLY EMBARRASSING and straight out of a Disney movie. That tone of a fun romp for the whole family is cradled by an abundance of swearing, unsettling fantasy-horror, and extreme, shocking violence.

You know when you’re watching Beetlejuice, and you’re like “Okay this movie is for children” and then out of nowhere Michael Keaton goes “NICE FUCKIN’ MODEL” and grabs his dick.

In The Child Thief, THAT washes over you every time you finish reading a sentence. Only, it’s as if you’re watching Hook, and at one point Robin Williams slices a person’s face off, and the camera stays on the faceless person for a minute and Steven Spielberg walks into frame and points to the gurgling faceless head and describes to you how you can still see the holes where the mouth, nose, and eyes were.

(Yes that actually happens in the book.)

Or if you’re watching Neverending Story and at one point you get expository dialogue explaining how Atreyu was pimped as a boy and had to live on the streets because his mother was, uh, a drug addict or something?.

(That also happens.)

Or if you’re watching Indian in the Cupboard and the film opens with a little girl about to get raped by her dad.

(I’m serious.)

Or if you’re watching Hocus Pocus and Bette Midler is a vampire and she preys on a 6-year-old kid and neither of them have shirts on.

(I swear to god.)

Or if you’re reading a modern re-imagining of Peter Pan and the story involves blatant themes of gore in acute descriptive detail, mass murder, torture, and scenes with naked women and perverted fantasy-creature-men.

(Oh, wait.)

You’re probably thinking, “All those themes are found pretty much everywhere in every medium, especially the naked women and perverts. Big whoop.” I’ll add, then, all those themes, involving children.

Now you’re thinking, “Jenna don’t you love that movie Drag Me To Hell which involves a child being murdered within the first 2.5 minutes?”

Just hear me out and yes.

The Child Thief is entertaining in how CAPTIVATING the strangeness is. The tonal mishmash of kid-friendly meets rated-R is something I actually like, when it's a hit. I like things that have a quality of whimsy amidst dark themes. Movies such as Temple of Doom, Gremlins, Return to Oz, Darkman have this quality…basically almost every movie from the 1980s during the period when audiences had grown up with movies after censorship was abolished and half the world said “think of the children” and the other half said “no.” There are tons and tons of other examples in every medium of how general tonal contrast makes for unique and effective works of art. My point is, this specific type of tonal contrast also can be done well.

But those movies don’t open with attempted child rape, and they don’t end with children literally being mowed down in a grisly battle scene (I’m serious). I’m making a lot of comparisons to movies because the book almost feels like a movie, in that the author isn’t a novelist, he’s a visual story-maker who wrote a book because he knew that no movie studio would pick this shit up. Maybe the films I listed didn’t intend for tonal contrast to be a calculated driving element for their stories, but the subtlety of tones in those movies allows for one encompassing, harmonious tonal blanket to wrap them in. There is no subtlety in The Child Thief.

The tonal confusion of The Child Thief is, I almost wanna say coincidental. I think the author just didn’t know how to write well, but he’s a very dark visual guy and had all these dark visuals in his head ready to be unleashed. All the horrible violence and awful themes are fine in and of itself, but they aren’t earned if the attitude of “I’m gunna turn the children’s book foundation on its head” isn’t committed to, and “I’m gunna subvert everything you know and love about Peter Pan” isn’t calculatedly plotted out. The author has a bad sense of humor, a poor understanding of what is required of an epic storyline, and treats violence, horror and revenge less like a literary device and more like a fetishization of coolness in a vulgar display of power as a writer.

The misguidedness goes as far as the character writing. None of the characters’ motivations make sense. The author couldn’t keep track of either committing to one motivation or the other, a lot of the times for the sake of the plot. Especially with the Peter Pan character. He’s basically literally the anti-christ (this is 100% canon, if the author says it isn’t then he’s a liar and an idiot) and written like a “troubled villain” but then gets these VERY polarized directions of unrelenting psychopathic Cause It’s Die Motherfucka Die Motherfucka Still, Fool villainy and ham-fisted humanism and victimhood. It’s a case of like, the author meant for him to be the charming bad guy who tricks the audience into being on his side because that’s what Peter does to the characters in the book. But the author found him too cool and wanted to be his friend, but in order to justify being friends with a character who wants to murder everybody, he inappropriately gives him remorse and forces the reader to feel bad for him.

And like all the kids in the book are supposed to super love Peter Pan but the version of Neverland is like this horrific, NIGHTMARE HELL of a place and the kids are basically being used to fight in a war, and all the kids are totally okay with it, because their lives in the real world were really awful and the whole thing is that Peter “saves” them and they’ll do anything for him. And it’s like, okay???????????????????? But wouldn’t it be cooler if the kids were like okay this guy is a fucking psycho and Neverland is a horrific, nightmare hell and I’m learning a lot about myself right now having once trusted him???? And then in their retaliation Peter would show his true colors and enforce aggression onto them in serving as his personal enslaved militia? And it becomes like this inner circle of conflict? And since Peter is the only person who can bring them back to the real world, they play ball but hope to steer their own agenda out of the situation? OH, right, that DOES happen, but with ONE of the characters. ONE. Conveniently, the main character. And god knows there can’t be more than one smart human being at a time.

But if you want to SUBVERT the BELOVED CHILDREN’S STORY FORMAT wouldn’t it be fun to do PETER PAN VS. THE LOST BOYS? Instead of MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE PETER PAN AND THE HOT TOPIC LOST BOYS VS. THE ONLY SEMI-SMART MAIN CHARACTER? Like wouldn’t it be GREAT if the characters WEREN'T DUMB? And the author put in some CONSTRUCTIVE, CHALLENGING CREATIVE EFFORT and treated the interactions like a CHESS GAME instead of a CONTRIVED MISUNDERSTANDING BETWEEN JOEY, ROSS, CHANDLER, RACHEL, MONICA AND THE OTHER ONE? Wouldn’t it be GREAT if ALL THE CHARACTERS TURNED AGAINST PETER but then Peter SLOWLY CHARMED SOME OR ALL OF THEM BACK IN, to make him MORE like an UNEARTHLY MONSTER? Like the lost boys became SELF-AWARE LITERAL VICTIMS OF THE ORIGINAL TALE FORMAT, where Peter Pain is this IMPOSSIBLY CHARMING CHARACTER THAT IS BELOVED BY THE LAWS OF THE UNIVERSE? ALSO, the MAIN CHARACTER is supposed to be the MODEL OF REASON FOR THE READER TO RELATE TO, but the main character still gets CHARMED BY PETER PAN, WHILE WE KNOW AS RATIONAL ADULTS WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING TO HAPPEN? LIKE THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE HOW READING BOOKS IS? When we KNOW WHAT’S GUNNA HAPPEN? BUT THE AUTHOR WANTS TO BE PETER’S FRIEND SO HE DOES IT ANYWAY? AND LIKE SEVERAL OTHER CHARACTERS THAT THE MAIN CHARACTER IS FRIENDS WITH ARE ALSO SUPPOSED TO BE FIGURES OF REASON BUT THEY’RE ALSO 100% PARTISAN IN SIDING WITH PETER? SO IT’S LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIKE ALL YOU DUMB, DUMB KIDS?

LIKE OKAY, SO HOW IT GOES IS THAT PETER CAN LIKE WALK ACROSS THE DIMENSION BETWEEN NEVERLAND AND THE REAL WORLD AND THAT'S HOW HE GETS THE KIDS? SO AT ONE POINT IN NEVERLAND THEY ALL HAVE TO SCAVENGE FOR FOOD BECAUSE THE VEGETATION IN NEVERLAND IS DYING, AND THEY MENTION HOW PETER USED TO BRING THEM FOOD FROM THE REAL WORLD? AND IT'S LIKE, HOW ABOUT YOU JUST KEEP DOING THAT? OR LIKE, WHY DON'T ANY OF YOU WANT TO JUST LEAVE? YEAH THE REAL WORLD SUCKS, BUT IS IT WORTH STARVING TO DEATH JUST SO YOU CAN STICK IT TO THE MAN? LIKE ARE THERE PEDIATRICIANS IN NEVERLAND? ARE THERE AT-RISK YOUTH SHELTERS? FOSTER CARE? NEVERLAND SOUP KITCHENS? NEVERLAND SOCIAL WORKERS? NEVERLAND CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES? NEVERLAND POLICE? NO? JUST MONSTERS THAT PAINFULLY KILL YOU, ZOMBIE PIRATES, NO FOOD, AND LITERALLY THE ANTI-CHRIST?

AND THEN THERE’S RIDICULOUS SHIT LIKE, AT ONE POINT ALL THESE MAGICAL FANTASY CHARACTERS HIJACK A NEW YORK CITY FERRY TO GET TO THE HARBOR AND IT’S LIKE, THIS IS SO RIDICULOUS IT SHOULD BE AWESOME, BUT IT ISN’T AWESOME BUT IT SHOULD BE SO WHY ISN’T IT?

AND LIKE ONE OF THE CHARACTERS IS A FAT USELESS KID NAMED DANNY AND THERE IS NO REASON FOR HIM TO BE IN THE BOOK BESIDES TO BE THE TOKEN FAT USELESS KID NAMED DANNY?

BUT DANNY IS LIKE ALSO THE ONLY OTHER SMART CHARACTER IN THE BOOK BECAUSE HE’S LIKE WHY DID I SAY YES TO THIS WHY ARE WE STILL FOLLOWING THIS GUY WHY DON’T WE JUST LEAVE AND IT’S LIKE YEAH PUT DANNY IN CHARGE BUT NOBODY LISTENS TO HIM AND HE’S JUST COMPLETELY UTTERLY USELESS?

AND THEN CAPTAIN HOOK ADOPTS DANNY AND IT’S LIKE OH MY GOD THE AUTHOR FORGOT HE NEEDED TO GIVE DANNY SOMETHING TO DO?

AND LIKE I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER THE MAIN CHARACTER’S NAME?

AND THEN AT THE END OF THE BOOK, SO, THERE’S THIS BIG HUGE BATTLE SCENE WHERE CHILDREN DIE LEFT AND RIGHT, LIKE THE “ANTAGONIST” (NOT PETER) HAS A HUGE SWORD AND IS SWINGING AT THE KIDS LIKE HE’S HARVESTING WHEAT, OH AND YEAH, BY THE WAY, AGAIN, THE REAL WORLD IS LOCATED IN NEW YORK CITY AND THE BATTLE HAPPENS ON LIKE THE FRONT LAWN OF A LIBRARY OR SOMETHING. LIKE THE STORY KIND OF TOTALLY GOES OFF THE RAILS INTO FANTASTIC SCHLOCK. AND AT ONE POINT THE BATTLE IS ABRUPTLY INTERRUPTED BY NYC POLICE AND IT’S LIKE ARE YOU SHITTING MY NUTS THE NYC COPS ARE INVOLVED IN THIS FANTASY BATTLE THIS IS AMAZING, BUT THEN THAT DOESN’T HAPPEN AND IT GOES NOWHERE. AND ALL THE MAIN CHARACTERS ARE DYING, AND NONE OF THEM HAD ARCS, LIKE NONE OF THEM REALIZED WHAT THEY GOT THEMSELVES INTO OR WHAT PETER REALLY WAS, AND AT THE ACT 3 POST-LOW POINT THE MAIN CHARACTER DIDN’T GO OFF TO DO HIS OWN THING AND TRY TO SAVE THE DAY, HE JUST GOES WITH PETER TO DO WHATEVER HE WANTS, AND THEN HIS ARC IS BASICALLY NOTHING AND THEN HE DIES. AND *PETER* WINS. AND AGAIN HE’S LITERALLY THE ANTI CHRIST SO THE BOOK ENDS WITH HIM BRIDGING THE REAL WORLD WITH NEVERLAND, AND BASICALLY BEING THE BRINGER OF HELL UNTO THE EARTH. AND UP UNTIL THEN THE BOOK HAD ABOUT 68 INSTANCES OF THE READER SWITCHING BETWEEN FEELING BAD FOR PETER AND THEN ACCEPTING THAT HE IS HITLER NURSE RATCHED MAO STALIN. SO WHEN ALL THE KIDS DIE, HE HAS A SCENE OF FEELING REALLY BAD AND THE READER IS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL LIKE AW HE REALLY DOES CARE! AND THEN NEVERLAND GETS BRIDGED INTO NEW YORK CITY, AND HE’S LIKE HA HA HA HA I DID IT I WON. BUT IT’S WRITTEN IN SUCH A WAY THAT LIKE, THE AUDIENCE IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE, WHEEEEEE! LIKE THIS THING THAT HAPPENED IS THE DOOM OF MANKIND, AND THE TONE SHOULD REALLY BE “OH GOD NO.” BUT THE AUTHOR WAS HAPPY THAT PETER WON IN THE END BECAUSE HE WANTS TO BE HIS FRIEND, EVEN THOUGH LIKE FIFTEEN PAGES AGO PETER CAUSED THE DEATH OF AN ARMY OF CHILDREN (AFTER ANOTHER 600 PAGES OF ALL KINDS OF OTHER AWFUL SHIT). SO NOT ONLY ARE WE SUPPOSED TO FEEL SAD THAT PETER FEELS SAD, BUT THEN WE’RE SUPPOSED TO FEEL HAPPY THAT PETER FEELS HAPPY. HOW ABOUT GO FUCK YOURSELF? HOW ABOUT IF YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE PETER A CHALLENGING UNRELIABLE ANTI-HERO, DON’T MAKE HIS DARK QUALITIES SO INCONTESTABLY EVIL, OR, EITHER CHOOSE TO MAKE PETER HATED BY THE AUDIENCE, OR MAKE THE AUDIENCE FEEL FOOLISH FOR BEING CHARMED BY PETER AND PARTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE BAD SHIT THAT HAPPENED AND GO FUCK YOURSELF?

...

I’ll give a different example of both tonal incongruence and bad character writing.

So, the opening scene of the book that involves attempted child rape, so. What happens is that Peter saves the little girl in time by killing the dad, and gains her trust to go to Neverland. The way the story regards the introduction to Peter is that of wonder and curiosity through the little girl’s eyes, as if it was derived from the original children’s tale. So the opener is meant to establish: a gritty “realness” to the book (which is never earned but i digress), and Peter as a mysterious magical hero. Then, the story carries on into describing Peter’s motivation in saving (the book uses “stealing”) children, which vaguely mentions his villainous indulgence (he’s saving children to recruit them in an army in Neverland to fight captain hook because his mommy is the president of neverland and there’s almost-Oedipal themes going on). Fine. However, the cadence of Peter actually being villainous is very very…undermined. Like the actual voice of the NARRATION is misinformed. Like the narration sounds more like Peter’s inner monologue speaking in the third person. Like the third person is in on it. Like the author is painting Peter as this wicked wrongdoer as if it’s a cool thing and he wants to be his friend (Oh wait).

This is how the voice of the opener is handled: Child rape —> Peter prevents child rape and saves child —> Peter is a good guy for doing this —> Peter is still a good guy for doing this but he did it maybe not for the right reasons. As it turns out, Peter is unquestionably the bad guy. Peter was the bad guy from the start, Peter was the bad guy while he was saving the little girl.

The rest of the book is handled like this: Peter is cool and badass —> Peter is mischievous but still the person we want to follow —> Peter is a psycho...but still cool —> Oh shit Peter has a super awful past and his psycho-ness is the result of being a victim so I forgive him —> Wow Peter’s both a psycho and an asshole—> Okay I dunno about Peter —> The author keeps having Peter save people from being raped as if he’s not an asshole but he’s still a psycho and an asshole so I still don’t know —> The plot has a a lot of stuff so I guess I’m still with Peter —> Okay Peter won but everyone is dead because of him and he’s still an asshole so I still don’t know.

Peter tricks victims of rape, abuse, slavery, etc. into thinking they’re being saved when in fact he objectifies them for his personal needs. Remember how I said this book’s insane tonal confusion isn’t subtle? Well, from the book’s perspective, putting a finger on Peter’s good side and bad side...is subtle. Problematically subtle. Which, on a literary standpoint, sounds like a good thing, but...

This is the part when I say the thing you ACTUALLY SHOULDN’T BE SUBTLE ABOUT is PETER. You CAN be subtle about his tragic backstory. Be subtle about sprinkling his good qualities over his CAKE TOWER of BADNESS. Give him some KICK. Have the flavors INTERACT. Make the audience be like “OOOH, is that cumin?? Interesting! HMMMM! INTERESTING! CUMIN! ON DORITOS! YEAh I am definitely eating Doritos, this is absolutely Doritos, but there’s some CUMIN in there! Okay, back to eating my DORITOS! OOOOH, IS THAT CAYENNE?????” But whatever you do, make it CLEAR what you are SERVING. You should not have a MIXED BAG, a MEDLEY, and try to sell it like not-a-medley. You should NOT make half your plate super spicy and half your plate super sweet and make the audience roll the dice on each bite they take. Peter Pan isn’t some complexass Faustian character study, it’s SUBVERSIVE HYPERVIOLENT DARK FANTASY PORN. IT’S DORITOS

This is how the voice of the opener should've been handled: Child rape —> Peter prevents child rape and saves child —> Peter is the bad guy.

This is how the voice of the rest of the book should've been handled: No matter what happens —> Peter is the bad guy.

I don’t have and never will have the literary criticism credentials to say anything with credible boldness, but I’m going to say this anyway: Using child rape to force the reader to feel a certain way about the tone of the world and the first heroic impression of a character is wrong. Forcing an act of heroism (especially for you to then later say “Just kidding not the hero”) in that context is inappropriate and wrong. That’s like throwing 9/11 into the background of a love story to force the audience to feel extra emotional. 1) There are many, many, many, many ways you can establish “realness” in your opener with or without violence. I’m not saying there is a hierarchy of what kind of awful things involving children are okay to write about, but opening your story with attempted child rape is an unnecessary extreme if parts of your story reads like an episode of Saved By The Bell. Revenge alone isn’t cool. John Wick is cool because of the way revenge is handled. Writing about attempted child rape and then immediate revenge on the rapist is the Epipen-shot-to-the-brain method of forcibly getting your audience to go “I LIKE PETER!”, which isn’t at all earned and probably shouldn’t be in your story… 2) ESPECIALLY if you don’t simultaneously establish with slats nailed on a wall that Peter is the bad guy. The author basically deceived the audience into liking Peter in the worst way possible, ironically, which is what he had Peter do to the other characters. If you want to cleverly deceive the audience into liking Peter, do it through his dialogue, personality, the externalized product of the relationship between him and his environment. Be inventive about it. It’s a book. You got words. Use...words to your advantage. If you want to open your story with attempted child rape at the very least as a way to tell the audience this shit’s serious, don’t.

Just don’t. It’s fine.

The Child Thief can’t be pinned as So Bad It’s Good. It’s poor, but it’s not Tommy Wiseau-acclaim-bad. The only way I can describe it is So Disorderly It’s Weird. But it has potential for being SO Weird It’s Kind Of Genius. Which makes it So Almost SO Weird It’s Kind Of Genius It’s Frustrating.

The book’s biggest detriment is that it takes itself too seriously. The author’s motivating in writing the book (this is fact) was that he recognized that the beloved original tale of Peter Pan has a lot of dark elements, but continues to be celebrated as a children’s story. And he wanted to take that notion and run with it. What happened was that he selectively fell in love with elements of that concept, and instead of writing a story that was meant to pull the rug from under us, he ended up writing a run-of-the-mill edgy dark fantasy that he was obliged to pepper with Peter Pan references. Instead of pulling the entire rug beneath our feet and hauling us onto our asses, he took a small handful of rug here and there and just occasionally tugged at it roughly, so that we’d almost lose our balance and get annoyed and tell him to stop.

The book lacks its own conceptual self-awareness that it built for itself, and the result is two different bodies trying to be forcibly shoved into the same book-sized box, when it should’ve been a new gross, satirical, humorous, unique body entirely.

In that sense, I really think this book could’ve been truly unironically awesome. I love the idea of cartoonishly exaggerating the dark elements (especially the violence) of the original tale that have been culturally ignored, like a lot of (or most) (or all) old children’s tales. My ideal solution to this book would actually be making it even more ridiculous in every way, but strung together with self-awareness and intention, where the author could acknowledge that the absurdity is instrumental, not indulgent. There are many aspects of the book that I really like thematically, and none of them are fully (or at all) seen through to their potential. These ideas aren’t really intentionally presented in the book, but: I like the idea that Peter is a sadistic volatile killing machine because he’s cursed with being riiiiiight on the cusp of hitting puberty, and his body is trapped without that natural sexual/psychological release, turning him into an aggressive animal constantly teased by unfulfilled subconscious heat. I like the idea that the lost boys element would be subverted into an inevitable Lord of the Flies esque shitstorm. I like the idea that the danger and villainy are at first generalized in adults but eventually presented in the children. I like the idea that every single possible fucking thing in the world—both the real world (mostly nyc LoL!) and Neverland—are a threat and are actively trying to kill the children, and the children treat it like an adventure before the horror becomes real. I like the idea of illustrating the outcome of blindly following fun naive figures of leadership. There are even a number of character interaction scenes that I like format wise. Just minus the embarrassing dialogue. That stuff's easy to rewrite in your head as you read it. Also I would take out that part in the book that I described as Bette Midler not having a shirt on while preying on a 6 year old. That part was really fucking uncomfortable. Seriously wtf, Gerald Brom.

I must concede this notion: The writer didn’t set out to create a masterpiece. He wrote the book to have fun. He succeeded, and his readers expected the same thing and received the experience they wanted. Of all the things that could’ve landed in my hands and tickled me in a weird enough way to make me wish it was better, for some reason it had to be this.

I could keep going, but...eh, (sigh).

But lastly—again, the descriptive writing of the world is very lush, and at times effectively horrific. The reading experience is a constant stop and start call-and-response of really great potential, really clumsy writing, and really misunderstood tonal directions. All those things put this book directly on the edge of FRUSTRATING. Uniquely frustrating. It couldn’t have been salvaged by the hands of a more competent writer, because the product came to light specifically out of the author’s unintentional confusion, not his laziness. A lazy product with potential can be salvaged through additions and tweaks, but The Child Thief cannot because the story was seen through the way it existed in the author’s head and heart. It is exactly what it...is. It can’t be imitated, or inspired by, or re-re-imagined. This weirdass fucking book is just sitting on this planet, being read by people, and shit.

…..Anyway. This was all just meant to be the caption for my fan art. http://jennacha.tumblr.com/post/172559227502/i-made-fan-art-of-a-book-i-both-love-and-hate-lol

#the child thief #brom #gerald brom

11 notes · View notes

ayma-nidiot · 3 years

Text

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fanfic Chapter 14

This chapter on AO3 can be found here.

Chapter 14 - Interesting History

“Hey.”

Rex waved off the kid who tried to poke him and continued his nap. “Ugh, leave me alone…” He continued to snore so loudly that nearby students stared at him in disgust, hoping that he would wake up, if only to shut up. “Mom, cook me some more… takoyaki, will ya?”

The kid knew just what to say to wake Rex up. He leaned in close and whispered with a smirk, “I beat you, Rex Raptor. Give me your rarest card.”

“Waaaaah!” The dino duelist was now awake. “No, you can’t have my Serpent Night Dragon! ...Oh, Espa Roba. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Well, of course! I’m just one of many students who has this ancient history class.”

Rex looked around. Unlike his freshman comp class, this classroom was a great hall, with every seat taken. And with that many students there, it got loud enough to really awaken him. In comparison to the seating area, the stage was broad and empty, save for a few impatient T.A.s that played on their phones after they finished setting up the lesson. “There has to be at least 100 students here!”

“Try 300. Then again, class does start in five minutes.”

“Aww, man…” Rex stretched until he felt fully awake. “At least I got some rest for myself and the little one.”

“What do you mean?”

At this point, Rex was used to telling everyone, but that didn’t make him any less proud with each announcement. “I’m intersex. Oh, and I’m 22 weeks pregnant, by the way.” He showed off his baby bump.

“That’s a bit hard to believe. And you let Weevil top you?” Espa closed his eyes halfway and raised his eyebrows. “Interesting, because he doesn’t strike me as a top at all. He’s way cuter than you’ll ever be. Nope, I’m not buying it.”

“It’s not as hard to believe as your phony psychic powers.” Rex felt another kick. “See, even my kid thinks so. And you don’t have to lecture me on how cute he is.” Rex waggled his eyebrows. “Believe me, I know. ”

“Pssh, whatever.”

“By the way, how are things?”

Somehow, Espa knew what Rex was talking about - or so the faux psychic thought. “I-If it’s about Mako, then… uh… we…” he stuttered, unlike his sly manner of speech from before.

“That was actually more of a general ‘how are things.’ But I’m glad things are working out for you. You know, Weeves and I saw you two at the café, and let me tell you, you guys look cute together. So are you an item yet, or what?”

Espa’s legs fidgeted. “...We did it once.”

“Whaaaat? You did? When?” Rex curled up into a ball, much like a kindergartener excited for storytime might. "And where?"

“It was last night, in the back of his car - a white 2004 Toyota Camry, if I might add. In a deserted church parking lot, mind you. And even though it was the first time for both of us, he was rather good at it. It hardly even hurt.” Espa’s face turned as red as a cherry. “...I can’t believe I’m telling the worst duelist in all of Domino City this. Though I haven’t confessed to Mako yet.”

Rex turned serious for once, and gave Espa a consolation pat on the back. “Well, my man, you’ve already taken a great first step. You’re adorable as heck, and you're a smart, talented duelist. How could he not fall for you?”

“Th-Thanks, I suppose.”

“Speaking of, I saw Mako today at the club fair. He was looking for you, wanting to apologize for… something.”

“H-He was?” Espa sounded even more flustered. “Oh, great… I bet he didn’t enjoy it at all… Gods, I’m so bad.”

“No, no. It was more like… He was the shy one. He sounded like he was concerned for you. But it’s good to know you’re feeling okay. When Weeves and I did it for the first time, he told me his ass hurt like hell the next day. So consider yourself lucky.”

“Tee hee…” Espa snapped out of his sour mood. “If that’s the case, then I’m glad I’m not your boyfriend. You sound awful in bed. You didn't even use lube, did ya?”

"Th-That's none of your-" Rex didn't want to divulge that he and Weevil lost their virginity to each other in Pharaoh Atem's palace hospital - the most unromantic of settings, if he had to be honest. "Well, no. We didn't have any at the time. But I can assure you that things are better in that arena now." With his pregnancy going on, Rex hadn't thought about having sex with Weevil lately, let alone talked about it. He had never thought about doing it while pregnant, but he had to admit that he wanted to give it a try.

"Who knew we would talk like this?" Espa chuckled.

“Not me, that's for sure. Anyway, you should visit us at club sometime. We meet tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not tomorrow, anyway. Babysitting duty for my brothers and all that. Maybe another time.” Espa turned to the door, and the entry of a scruffy-looking, short man silenced everyone. “Lookit, the professor just arrived. He’s one of the most popular professors at this university, so I think you’ll like this class.”

“Is he now? Oh!” Rex immediately recognized Dr. Saurus. “I know him! I’ve dueled him before!”

“Did you win?”

“O-Of course I did!”

“Hahaha, yeah right.”

“Shaddap! The professor’s about to start talking.”

“Hello, hello!” Dr. Saurus struck a pose.

“He’s just as goofy as my freshman comp professor,” Rex laughed.

“Yeah, about that,” Espa began. “You know that part when our high school counselors said that ‘your college professors are serious and won’t accept silly behaviour?’ Boloney. Especially at Domino City University.”

“Then I really think I’ll like it here.” Rex kicked back and took out his laptop to take notes. Not that he really expected to take any on the first day of school.

“Hello, class, and welcome to ancient history. I’m your professor, Dr. Spinos Saurus. My father is from Greece, but when he was young, he moved to Japan, where he met my mother. But just recently, they moved back to Greece.”

“I was wondering where he got that funny name,” Rex thought aloud. In a not-so-diverse city like Domino, he was pleasantly surprised to see more hafus other than himself, Ptera, and Weevil. Then again, with how many people this popular university had, it stood to reason.

“I am not only a professor at this esteemed university, I am also a leading paleontologist. Our first unit will cover the formation of the universe, and how dinosaurs came to be.”

“That is siiiiiick! Dinos for the win!” Rex got up without thinking and dabbed.

“My, my.” Spinos chuckled. “I’m glad someone’s passionate about my class. I just hope that he can study better than he duels.”

“Daaaang, you just got roasted by a professor on the first day.” Espa couldn’t stop laughing.

“Twice.” Rex huffed. His face quickly changed from a pout to a smile, however. After skimming the class syllabus, Spinos spoke about the Big Bang. Rex didn’t have much interest in history before, as his teachers in high school bored him to tears. But this new teacher made history so interesting, Rex wished he could take better notes. I need to learn how to type without looking at the keys.

The dinosaur duelist never thought he would, but he was genuinely upset when class ended. He was even more upset when he tried to catch up with Spinos as he left, but couldn’t. About fifty other students wanted to have a word with him, even when the professor insisted he had to travel to an archaeological site that day. But that didn’t stop him from noticing Rex in the crowd and saying, “You’re that kid I dueled. How’s it goin’?”

“Awesome! I really liked today’s lecture, by the way. You should teach the teachers at my old high school how to actually be fun.”

“Young man, if I could clone myself to be in multiple places at once, I would. Right after I revive a Brachiosaurus, of course.”

“Hey, my name isn’t ‘young man!’” Rex put his hands on his hips. “I’m Rex Raptor, the son of Ptera Raptor, and don’t you forget it!”

“Did you say ‘Ptera Raptor?’” Spinos’ eyes suddenly opened wide. “So that was her in the hospital…”

“What, do you know my mom?”

“You… could say that.” Spinos squirmed at the mention of Ptera’s name, but still showed kindness towards Rex. “Anyway, if you want to duel me or come to an archaeological site with me, you’re more than welcome to.”

“For real?!” Rex jumped excitedly, until a hard kick from his baby brought him down to Earth. “Ouch… I’d love to join you today, but Mom would have a fit if I did. I’ll try to convince her to let me go with you one day.”

“Y-Yeah… Have a good day, then.” So spoke Spinos as he left the scene.

“That was a little weird… Dr. Saurus seems really nice to me, but doesn’t want to talk about Mom.” Since Ptera wouldn’t come until Weevil’s last class ended, Rex decided to spend the next couple of hours absentmindedly perusing the library shelves. That absentminded perusing, however, soon turned into a checkout consisting of five large books about dinosaurs and a limited edition of Jurassic Park.

The bug duelist would find him sleeping in front of a school computer, with a YouTube video called “How to Stomp Your Foes with Dinosaur Cards” on the screen. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up. Or I’m going to carry you like a princess all the way to Ptera’s car.”

“No, you won’t. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t walk. Or did you forget I was the top athlete at Domino High School?” Rex stumbled as he got up. “Oww!”

“Uh-huh.”

Rex didn’t want to admit it, but his ankles had been hurting ever since Spinos’ class ended, and his back hurt even more. “Shut up, bug boy! I wanna go home, and I’m sure you do too!”

After a walk that involved two trips to the loo, Rex and Weevil finally arrived at the car loop to an energetic Ptera. “So, how did the first day go, boys?”

“Pretty well,” answered Weevil. “Although my calculus teacher cut right to the chase. No introduction, no syllabus go-over, not even an icebreaker. Just straight into the integrals.”

“Uuuuugh! That word!” Rex curled up into a ball.

“So I take it your first day didn’t go as planned?”

“Oh, it went fine. Mostly because Weevil and I had freshman comp together." Rex turned to Weevil and whispered. "Turns out Espa Roba is in my ancient history class. And he did it with Mako. Don't ask me how, but our conversation went on such a tangent that he got me to think about... um, pregnant sex."

"Well, well." Weevil liked the sound of it. "Sure, as long as you don't stress yourself or the baby."

"Hehehe..." Rex let Weevil curl into him further. "You know I won't."

“Oh, yeah." Weevil turned his head to Adelaide. “Adelaide, I saw Mother in my freshman comp class. She’s one of my classmates. Apparently, she’s working to be a doctor!”

“C-Camellia… She’s here in Domino City? I’m glad…”

“Mrs. Raptor, I would love to invite her over sometime, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course! I’d love to meet your mother.”

“Ooh, Mom!” Rex spoke up. “I have this super-awesome professor for ancient history! Not only that, but he loves dinosaurs too!”

“He… He does?” Ptera’s good mood faded in an instant.

“Yeah! His name is Dr. Spinos Saurus! He’s also a leading paleontologist and even invited me to go with him to archaeological sites! Please, Mom, can I go?”

As she pulled into the driveway of the mobile home, Ptera slammed on the brakes.

“Ow!” Rex rubbed his belly. “Did you forget that I’m with child?”

“Absolutely not!” Ptera scowled at her son when all four of them were out of the car. “You are to stay away from that pendejo, understood?”

“But Mom, he’s my professor. It’s kind of hard to stay away from him.”

Ptera gritted her teeth. “At the very least, you are not to hang out with him.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Rex looked perplexed.

“Rex… Did you notice what that man looked like?”

“He had a goatee and a really shaggy moustache. He also had wild brown hair and indigo eyes. ...Now that you mention it, he looks like me. Mom… Don’t tell me… Dr. Saurus is-”

“That vile, disgusting man is your father, who abandoned us almost 20 years ago.”

#yugioh #shrimpshipping #mpreg #fanfiction #ygo #lots of coastershipping banter in this chapter huehuehue

0 notes

shinydarkai2000 · 3 years

Text

Alright, here's what scared me as a kid. Keep in mind, this may be kind of stupid.

Have you ever been scared by something that you trusted? A familiar piece of media that you know front to back, suddenly shocks you in a way that you just can't forget. Even bringing about sudden fear upon even remembering the accompanying music, as though you legit had PTSD?

On a related note, do you guys remember Elmo's World?

I'm not even joking. As a kid on the Autism Spectrum, I naturally gravitated towards the predictable format that the show offered. I always knew what to expect. It was familiar and safe. Well, for the most part.

I don't even remember when I first saw the episode about dogs. I do know that it had to have been on the cassette, aptly titled "Babies, Dogs, and More," with the "more" meaning "farms." Admittedly, all three episodes on that VHS gave off somewhat unsettling vibes, but it was the second one on there, the one about dogs, that truly traumatized me.

Okay, so, I'm just gonna give you a synopsis of the events within the episode in an attempt to explain to anyone reading why it unsettled me, for one reason or another. Here we go:

Firstly, the episode starts with the standard greeting: Elmo welcomes the viewer to his titular, hand-drawn world. Only, for some reason, the camera is at a surprisingly low angle, when the camera is normally positioned at eye level. For some reason, Elmo is legitimately looking down at you. Then, after greetings are "exchanged," Elmo asks you to read his mind and guess what he's thinking about. This is usually accompanied by a hint or two, the first of which is the three main furniture items, those being the drawer, the shade, and the door respectively, barking. And the door in particular has the lowest, most intimidating bark out of all of them. Elmo opens the door and is subsequently trampled by a small stampede of dogs, multiple times. In fact, after the montage that follows, he enters the screen BEING PUSHED AND TRAMPLED YET AGAIN!!! Hell, when he's saying Dorothy's question, this time being "How do you walk a dog?", he looks in the direction that the dog hoard went, and decides to WHISPER the word dog! He is LEGITIMATELY CONCERNED that he might get trampled again! Elmo decides to ask Mr. Noodle, as usual. This time around, it's his brother, played by Michael Jeter (may he rest in peace). And the idea is that he is holding a leash that is suspended in midair, and it's supposed to represent a "pretend dog." Except this pretend dog is moving at breakneck speeds, running under Mr. Noodle's legs multiple times, leaping several feet into the air, and even causing the poor man to FLIP IN THE AIR and land on his side! HARD! After getting up, but not without failing to do so a couple times, Mr. Noodle is then DRAGGED AWAY by this PRETEND DOG! What the fuck! Moving on, the kids and the baby segments are as usual. Then we get to the counting segment, or what you could also refer to as "Elmo's Question for You." It's clear that for this question, Elmo is in front of a Blue Screen, because he does not look natural in his own world. Anyway, the question involves ice-skating dogs, which also look very unnatural in their movement and speed, coupled by the weird rendition of the Blue Danube Waltz by Richard Strauss. Enter the surprisingly dirty looking dog, which asks the next question: What can have a pet dog and what can't? Elmo and the dog go to the drawer, who uncharacteristically, obeys Elmo's wishes to receive an answer without causing implied physical harm, which is just super suspicious, because if there's one thing about Elmo's World that is almost 100% consistent, it's that the drawer is an asshole! And it doesn't help that the music in this segment is also weirdly unsettling for some reason. Then, we briefly check up on Mr. Noodle again, and see that he's gotten the hang of walking the pretend dog by now, but still somewhat struggling. And once again, the music is somewhat unsettling. Now, my memory is a bit foggy here, but I believe that it's just a standard story about how this one kid got a new puppy and detailing the responsibilities that come with it. Pretty standard stuff. Afterwards, it shows Elmo being absolutely overwhelmed by the dog hoard's licking. Yeah, remember those guys? They're back. Anyway, they run off, and the TV runs in like some kind of smaller dog breed so that we can have the usual cartoon segment. Also, the hoard comes back, because they want to watch as well, for some reason. Cartoon segment time: Dogs and their Feelings. It's portrayed like a legit therapy session for this one dog named Sigmund. The therapist asks Sigmund to portray his emotions for various hypothetical scenarios, with Sigmund refusing to cooperate, which is actually rather comedic in hindsight. Of course, the therapist ends up having to act them out herself, appearing very viscous for anger, might I add. Eventually Sigmund runs off, and soon comes back in a jersey because he "wants to play Basketball." He then hands the therapist a bone, and she proceeds to growl and shake it around in her mouth. And that's where it ends! One more look at Mr. Noodle, with the same music as last time, and Elmo wants to learn more. The hoard comes back, and they mention some brief facts about themselves before running off at the "sound" of a whistle. But as they're running off, Elmo still tries to get in one last question: Do dogs have jobs? And this is where the main source of my childhood trauma begins... Immediately after Elmo asks the question, the door barks again. And I'm not even joking, that bark does not even sound like a normal dog. It sounds like a hell hound or something! Elmo opens the door, and the real "guests" are revealed: William Wegman's dogs. For those of you who don't know what these are, they're these PEOPLE with ACTUAL DOG HEADS!!! The first one we see is a cop, and his accompanying music still leaves a mark on my very soul! It's such a commanding, forceful track, and even worse, it's the kind of thing that sticks around in your head afterwards! He tells Elmo that dogs do have jobs, and that some dogs work with the police. Cut to Elmo's reaction, and when we cut back, there's a different dog person there. This one is dressed up like a clown and tells Elmo that there are some dogs that work in the circus, with this really fast paced rendition of the Benny Hill theme behind him. Also, I didn't mention this earlier, but these two dog people are just against some sort of white void of a background. Then Dorothy imagines Elmo as a dog. And it is the most unnatural looking thing I have ever seen! Circus dog Elmo fails to jump through a hoop, and then laughs like his usual self. Next, the Elmo dog is trying to herd sheep, who are just droning on with their baas. Elmo dog joins them with sad sounding howls, and in pity, the sheep stand to attention like army soldiers! The voice of one of the dog people makes a really shitty pun about how the sheep "herd" Elmo, which is so bad that even the sheep don't get it, and then Elmo dog has them march off screen, but not before turning to the camera and laughing again for some reason. Lastly, Elmo dog is pulling a sled in an Arctic looking environment, with another Elmo riding the sled and telling him to mush? It's just super confusing... End of imagination segment. Both dog people are together now, and the leave with the excuse that they "have to bake a cake." What the fuck kind of excuse is that? Where did that even come from?! Elmo then shows a home video of Telly pretending to be a dog, but Telly is taking it really far, even licking the camera!!! That is not just pretend, if you ask me! Then, of course, Elmo plays "the Dog Song" on the piano to the tune of the chorus of Jingle Bells, and sings with the accompaniment of the dog hoard, and we say our goodbyes.

Holy fuck. This may not seem like anything scary, but as an autistic toddler, this shit was the closest thing I had to a horror movie. If you want to see what the fuck I'm talking about for yourself, then look it up on YouTube. You could also just look it up on the Sesame Street website, I think, but they changed the police dog's music there for some reason. So maybe look for the episode on YouTube, and if you can, find a version that isn't posted by the official Sesame Street channel, just to be sure you get the full experience.

Do I regret posting this long ass comment here? Absolutely not! I'm old enough not to give a shit about being mocked for this anymore.

#shenanigans #elmo #elmo's world #trauma #childhood #childhood trauma #halloween

0 notes

cadpadawan · 4 years

Text

31-Day Music Challenge

The social media is now flooded with all kinds of funny challenges, as people are stuck at home with nothing much to do. I guess online gaming, or getting shitfaced, becomes increasingly boring, when all kinds of tiresome responsibilites, like work, do not present any restrictions and limitations anymore. In a way, Facebook has started to resonate the air of those naive first few years, when your newsfeed was basically just one continuous stream of challenge that and challenge this.

Well, why the hell not?

What else is there to do, in order to pass the time with your mental health intact?

So, here I am...just another bored individual to join this endless crusade to make life worth living again, to make my personal life great again. Thus, I jumped on the wagon, and took on this fancy 31-day music challenge, that has been circulating in Facebook (for years, I think).

Although, I didn't find it challenging enough to just type the daily keyword in the Spotify search box and post the result in my Facebook wall. Because: more is more.

(Go ask Yngwie Malmsteen, if you don't believe me...)

The challenge for day #1 was to pick a song with a colour in the title.

I could immediately come up with a bunch of songs, only to realize that the vast majority of the song titles were themed around two basic colours: black and blue. I guess songwriters are a lazy bunch, when it comes to colours. It's pretty obvious, why lyricist everywhere find these two colours exceptionally appealing and resort to the abundant use of them, neglecting all the wonderful possibilites posed by the other colours of the spectrum. Of course black and blue, in terms of emotion and imagination, are much stronger than, say, yellow and orange. So, instead of just settling with the first few titles that came to mind, I wondered if I could come up with one song for each colour I can think of. I mean: a song that bears some personal meaning to me. In practice, this challenge basically meant that I would have to think hard while rummaging through the main three Spotify playlists that I have compiled with something like +16k or +17k songtitles, with the addition of my personal collection of some +2600 cd's – at least the rarities section for songs that are not available in Spotify.

Let's see if I have the stamina to go through my cd-racks, though. I had the forethought to organize my cd's in alphabetical order, by the name of the artist, years ago. For some weird reason, my beloved spouse has not yet agreed to the idea of re-furnishing our apartment with the central theme being those precious compact discs. That's why the cd-racks are placed in somewhat random and impractical fashion: most of them are located in the living room, with a few sections located in our bedroom. I guess, it's a good thing I had disposed of my vintage Rhodes-electric piano by the time when we started dating 20 years ago. I'm pretty sure she would have opposed strongly to the idea of having the instrument as a kitchen table, with the giant lid down. My Rhodes-piano was the so-called suitcase model, with a keyboard of 73 keys. When I moved out from my parents' house in the mid-90's, I decorated my one-room-apartment in the ethos of Japanese minimalism, due to the fact that I spent most of my income on records and alcohol. That Rhodes-piano served as a kitchen table, when I wasn't actually playing with it. Because: why the hell not?

Ok, then. The first colour...it shall be black.

Oh, boy! What a multitude of choices it presents! Should I pick an iconic 90's grunge anthem, like Soundgarden's Black Hole Sun? After all, I saw the band on stage in Helsinki cirka 1995. (I say ”cirka” because I'm not 100% sure about the year, and I'm too lazy to look it up in Google) The fond memories of those grungey early years in the 90's instantly remind me of a couple of equally important bands: Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains. Although, I've never seen either of them live. Pearl Jam had a song titled Black on their breakthrough debut album Ten. Alice in Chains had a killer track titled Black Gives Way to Blue. That epochal Pearl Jam album played non-stop in my car stereos at the time of its' release. I had it copied on a C-cassette. Remember that vintage format, anyone? (Yes, I'm THAT old...) With this particular AIC song I fell in love much later, as it was the title track on the band's comeback album, released in 2009 with the new singer William DuWall. First, I kinda hesitated to give this new AIC line-up any chances, but it turned out to be pretty damn good. Obviously, nothing can top the impact, that the Laney Staley-fronted AIC made with their Dirt-album in 1992. At the time of its' release, that album was a full-blown mindfuck! In retrospect, the year 1992 seems to have been pretty kick-ass, in terms of album releases:

Alice in Chains: Dirt

Rage Against The Machine: Rage Against The Machine

R.E.M.: Automatic for the People

Pantera: Vulgar Display of Power

Tori Amos: Little Earthquakes

Faith No More: Angel Dust

Dream Theater: Images and Words

Aphex Twin: Selected Ambient Works 85-92

Prince & The New Power Generation: (Love Symbol Album)

Stereo MC's: Connected

Tom Waits: Bone Machine

Sade: Love Deluxe

The Prodigy: Experience

Megadeth: Countdown to Extinction

Eric B. & Rakim: Don't Sweat the Technique

The Orb: U.F.Orb

k.d.Lang: Ingenue

Suzanne Vega: 99.9 Fº

Stone Temple Pilots: Core

Curve: Doppelganger

Nick Cave: Henry's Dream

Neneh Cherry: Homebrew

Maybe I should choose something less obvious? At least, it would make this challenge less arduous for me, because it's evident that making a choice between two particularly dear songs from the past is nothing short of impossible. When in doubt, go for the dark horse! So, here goes: my choice for the song with the colour black in the title is:

Bonobo: Black Sands

Being something of a jazz aficionado, despite not really possessing any of the musical prowess to actually play jazz myself, it was love at first soundbite, when I chanced to hear the title track from Bonobo's 2010 album Black Sands on Bassoradio's morning special back in the day. Bonobo is the musical alias of British DJ-producer-musician Simon Green. His career spawns from the 90's trip hop aesthetics, with heavy influences of jazz and world music. Spicing up electronic beats with raw jazz samples, or even live musicians, was the thing to do, somewhere along the mid-90's. I guess it all started with a few insightful hip-hop artists layering their ghetto stompers with the occassional hardbop jazz sample back in the late 80's. For a short period, acid jazz was the coolest shit ever in the early 90's. In a somewhat natural chain of events, jazz eventually made its way to the brand new genres that evolved around the middle of the decade, trip hop and jungle, too.

That's how I got sucked into the all-consuming whirlpool of this abominable voodoo music – jazz. It's a wonder no-one has come up with a gateway theory yet, regarding the highly addictive nature of jazz music. It usually starts with small doses: an occassional jazz sample is slipped in the hip-hop track, or the breakdown section of a rock song is ornamented with a brief, improvised saxophone lead. Then you find yourself craving for more, and start delving into the depths of acid jazz, nu jazz, or whatever new genre that has incorporated jazz as an inherent element in its' aesthetic toolkit. After this honeymoon period, that might spawn over years and years, you eventually catch yourself red-handed, holding a genuine jazz album in your hands at the local record store, probably the usual entry-level drug-of-choice jazz classic: Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. It has been awarded the title of the greatest jazz album of all time – and for a reason, too. Multiple times. Then you're hooked. Next thing you know, you'll be blasting John Coltrane at a family reunion, with your beloved relatives giving you the dead-eyed stare, doubting the state of your mental well-being. Long story short: you simply cannot go wrong with a mellow waltz rhythm that's punctuated with the organic groove of a flesh-and-blood jazz drummer, and topped with hauntingly beautiful brass harmony.

Next up: the colour blue...

Again, I could go for something utterly obvious, like the song titled Blue by A Perfect Circle. Those lucky few, who know me in person, should be well aware of the fact, that I'm quite a diehard fanboy of the band. I was lucky enough to see the band's live performance a few years back, when they paid Finland a visit. Nevertheless, I think I can come up with something more unexpected.

Just let me think for a sec...

Remember the band Europe? Of course you do! (Unless you were born yesterday, like some, eww, millennial!) I think it would've required some exceptional measures in the noble art of cutting contact with the external world to not have been exposed to the band's 1986 megahit Final Countdown, during the past 34 years. (Fuck! Do I feel old yet?!?) BUT...before you dismiss the band as yet another hair-metal has-been, check out this song:

Europe: Not Supposed To Sing The Blues

It's pretty damn hard to believe it's a song by the same band that's responsible for that Final Countdown atrocity. To be honest, that particular throwback 80's hard rock ear-worm wouldn't probably get under my skin in such a thoroughly repulsive fashion, had I not performed the song countless times myself. It was quite an essential part of the live repertoire of the party band, that I toured with cirka 2004-2008. The modus operandi of this covers-only band was to play the most annoying 80's megahits, with the lyrics translated in Finnish with a liberal amount of tongue-in-cheek references to gay erotica. (On a side note, the band was actually quite popular in certain small regions, despite this dubious approach and the substantially high level of bad taste incorporated in the lyrics and live performances. We even ended up playing in a genuine gay wedding once. The humour of the band was, after all, benevolent albeit a bit harsh, at least in the context of these politically correct times...)

The song Not Supposed to Sing the Blues was released in 2012. It's pretty evident, that during this 26-year-period, following the release of Final Countdown, Europe managed to grow some serious balls, hidden somewhere below my musical radar. The oriental sounding motif, played with some cool mellotron string patch in the refrain before the chorus, has a nice Led Zeppelin-esque feel to it. You can't really go wrong with a slowed-down hard rock blues that is sugar-coated with a grain of Kashmir-strings, now can you?

Next up: white...

What first comes to mind? Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum, and Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues, obviously. You see, I had both of these tracks in vinyl format, way back in the early 90's, when I was going through my ”moustache prog from the 70's”-phase. (Although, this particular Procol Harum song was actually released in 1968, and the Moody Blues song in 1967 – but, in order to be consistent and thorough, I had to dig deeper, to the roots of the prog...to the very dinosaur fossils)

I could throw in White Room by Cream, too. I used to listen to these particular tracks A LOT! In the age of vinyl, conducting a music marathon themed around, say, 60's and 70's ”moustache music”, was actually quite a laborous ritual. Every 25 minutes, or so, I had to flip the side of the record. Shuffling songs totally at random was simply a no-go-zone. Nowadays, it's so easy to compile a lengthy set of personal favorites in Spotify, WinAmp, iTunes, or whatever the fuck application you'd prefer, and just hit the randomize-button...fucking millennials, they have it SO easy. They have no idea of the struggle.

That's why we had those vintage C-cassettes: to copy that very special selection of songs, compiled with tender love and care, onto a format, that didn't require you to be on a constant lookout for when the album side was closing to an end. Besides, before the onslaught of cd-players, those vintage C-cassettes were the only way to impress people with either your refined taste in music, or with the lack of it, while you were occupied with the gentle art of pussy racing, driving around downtown in your awkwardly tuned-up mirthmobile, every goddamn Friday night.

I could pick White Wedding by Billy Idol, too...

It was one of those 80's hits that I used to play with the ”covers only”-party band.

Nah...

I think I will have to choose between Aisles of White by the Aussie soft-prog band the Butterfly Effect, and The Heart of a Cold White Land by the Finnish doomsters Swallow the Sun.

My beloved wife introduced me to Aussie prog, some 10 years ago. The gateway drug, I think, was Karnivool with their music video for All I Know. One day, when I was coming home from work, I caught my wife watching this particular video in YouTube. A little bit later, she unearthed a shitload of Aussie bands in Spotify. I guess she must've been hitting that ”similar artists”-link quite relentlessly. The Butterfly Effect was one of those magnificent bands she discovered. I remember hearing the song In A Memory for the first time. It struck a chord with me, in such a profound way, that I felt compelled to order the album Imago ASAP from some Australian music webstore. At the time, the back catalogue of the Butterfly Effect wasn't available in Finland. I don't know, if it's available even now, because the band is no longer active, I think. Aisles of White is the track #2 on that album, released in 2006. The band released one more kick-ass album in 2008, titled Final Conversation of Kings, and then I don't know what the hell happened.

Swallow the Sun is a bit doomish Finnish metal band, and I'm not really sure, when I actually found the band's music. I think I had their debut album The Morning Never Came (2003) in my cd-rack for years, but it wasn't until 2012, with the release of the magnificent Emerald Forest and the Blackbird album, that I truly fell in love with the band. It took me some five years to actually haul my ass to their gig for the first time. Every single time, when I found out that they were touring nearby, I was too busy with some utterly meaningless work-related bullshit to make it. Finally, in 2017 it happened. I had managed to get rid of my soul-sucking job, although due to a pretty hardcore reason (a brain tumour), so when I found out that Swallow the Sun was performing in Helsinki, in the legendary rock venue Tavastia, I definitely made sure that I was there – and fuck me sideways! It was indeed one of the best live performances that I have ever experienced, hands down!

In 2015, Swallow the Sun released a monolithic triple album Songs From the North, and this particular track, The Heart of a Cold White Land, is on the disc II, that is focused on the beauty side of the band's doom palette.

Swallow the Sun: The Heart of a Cold White Land

Next up: Red

Sielun Veljet was one of the most iconic Finnish rock bands in the 80's. The band released only a couple of albums with lyrics in English, of which the 1989 release Softwood Music Under Slow Pillars was the only one with the songs originally written in English. There was some other attempts to gain international fame and fortune, but in those cases, the songs were merely English translations of their most beloved hit songs, initially written in Finnish. This particular album was planned for international release – but the label executives were pretty disappointed, to say the least, when the band came up with an album full of acoustic psychedelia. It was released only in Finland and Sweden. The artwork on the album cover is actually a painting by a Peruvian artist Pablo Amaringo, depicting the shamanic ayahuasca ritual. Listening through this album in one go is somewhat similar experience, I would guess: a rewarding journey into the depths of the human psyche, albeit potentially exhausting, especially if you're not exactly in the proper mindset to begin with.

Well, ever since I got exposed to the oriental psychedelia of, say, Jimi Hendrix, Kingston Wall, and the like, I seem to have acquired a taste for this kind of weird and druggy, over-the-top freeform musical expression.

Sielun Veljet: Hey-Ho, Red Banana

Ok, then...What next?

What other colours are there, anyway? The three primary colours are: red, yellow and blue. All the other colours can be derived from these three fuckers. To be precise, I think black does not actually qualify as a colour... So, I've got most of these covered already. Of course, in order to pick some hairs, printers actually use magenta, yellow and cyan as their primary colours – and black, obviously. I can't recall a single song with ”magenta” or ”cyan” in the title, though. I could come up with a band or two, with these colours in the band name, such as Magenta Skycode, or Cyan Velvet Project, but song titles?

Nada.

Maybe, if I combed through my post-rock and soundtrack archives, I could come up with some epic 15-minute instrumental with either cyan or magenta mentioned in the lengthy piece of contemporary literature, that is supposed to be the title of the song...but I guess those tracks would not exactly mean worlds to me, as I clearly cannot remember them now. If something comes to mind, while I'm writing down this epistle, I'll address that particular colour and song, accordingly. Now, I shall get on with this challenge journal, onto the next ”normal”, everyday colour...

Which is?

The colour green.

Having played keyboards in a dubious number of proggy bands, with the tonal preferences leaning heavily toward everything vintage, I might as well pick a mellow Hammond-organ classic, such as Green Onions by Booker T. & the MG's, or a vintage synth classic from THE motion picture soundtrack album of all time: Memories of Green by Vangelis, from the timeless Blade Runner soundtrack.

But I won't...

It wasn't actually easy to come up with that many titles with the colour green mentioned. Excluding these two aforementioned classics, I could barely come up with four! As much as I like the desert rock stonerism of Kuyss, the song Green Machine is not my personal favourite in their back catalogue. So that narrows my options to three. The problem is that two of these songs seem to defy the laws of quantum physics: they both take a firm stranglehold on my soul, and throw it casually down the dark and dangerous alleys of nostalgia.

In the midst of 90's acid jazz boom, I had a peculiar habit of buying compilation cd's at random, if the heading on the cover somehow suggested that the contents of the cd had anything to do with this particular genre of music. By impulse-buying music I discovered a lot of gems, like the song Apple Green by Mother Earth. The band was an English acid jazz outfit, virtually unheard of in Finland, despite the tidal wave of acid jazz washing over also these rural perimeters. If Jamiroquai, the Brand New Heavies et al. rub you the right way, you definitely need to check this band out. I can still remember clearly, as if it happened yesterday, how I picked this acid jazz compilation from the vaults of the local record store that no longer exists.

Mr. Big was a band everybody just loved to hate at the turn of the decace, when the gigantic hair-do's of the 80's started to flatten out, and flannel shirts were showing faint signs of becoming the next level shit in the never-ending quest for cool. At the time, I was an under-aged college drop-out, devoting my attention to the finer things of guitar playing techniques, instead of studying for a decent profession. I had received my first electric guitar from my parents in 1988, and for the following 5-6 years, I spent most of my time and energy in an attempt to unravel the secrets of how to play guitar like Jimi Hendrix. I listened to quite a lot of speed and thrash metal on the side, too. Y'know, bands such as Anthrax, Metallica, Slayer and Stone, which was quite a legendary Finnish speed metal band in the late 80's. My budding personal artistic expression was anyhow more influenced by legendary old timers, like Hendrix. I simply loathed all sorts of pyrotechnical wankery (with the exception of certain tracks by Steve Vai and Joe Satriani). Mr. Big's lead guitarist Paul Gilbert was famous for that very special blend of technical stuff, that I wasn't interested in, not in the slightest. So, I never really gave the band a chance. I think my misconception of the band's music as some kind of a shit-show of technical masturbation was due to some instructional videos hosted by Gilbert. After all, his fame as a highly skilled guitarist must have derived from his contributions to several guitar magazines and instructional videos, instead of his career in Mr. Big. So, everytime I heard the intro of, say, To Be With You, on my car radio, I simply had to change the channel. In order to do so, I had to manually rotate the tuning knob. Yes, my first car stereos were THAT vintage! What a time it was to be alive! Years later, with the maturity of age like with a fine wine, I finally listened to the worn-out hits of this horrid band only to find out that – bummer! - in terms of songwriting, those goddamn Mr.Big hits were actually not that bad at all. The song Green-Tinted Sixties Mind was released on the album Lean Into It in 1991. Now, everytime I am exposed to this particular song, I am instantly reminded of what a stuck-up elitistic music snob I used to be during those emotionally tumultuous times.

So, I could resort to the luck of the draw, but luckily I've got one more candidate to go.

Lonely the Brave is one of my most recent findings. It's an English alt.rock band from Cambridge, formed in 2008. I really don't know much about the band, just this one song titled The Blue, The Green. I was exposed to it while playing the music trivia game Songpop 2 with my mobile phone during the past two years, I think. The game is about guessing songs within the timeframe of a 15 second clip. Pretty addictive at first, actually. This 15-second-soundbite was enough to gain my full attention, so I had to check out the song in full, instantly. I cannot pinpoint what exactly it is, but this particular song has that vague feeling of ”something”, that draws me to listen to it, time and time again.

Lonely The Brave: The Blue, The Green

Next up: yellow.

I was first introduced to Frank Zappa's unique music in the late 80's, by my classmate Jussi, who kindly exposed me to the timeless classic Bobby Brown Goes Down. At the delicate age of 15, it was a pretty anticipated reaction that the explicit song lyrics would strike a chord. A few years later, as I was browsing through the vinyl section at the local second hand record store, I came across a pure treasure: the gatefold vinyl edition of Roxy & Elsewhere by Frank Zappa & The Mothers. In mint condition, too! Dropping the needle on the first groove on the black vinyl back home was like taking the first hit of some mind-altering illegal substance. My perception of reality changed in an instant – and there was no going back. Such an exciting mixture of fusion jazz, rock and harsh satire was sure to make me an addict. So, in no time at all I built up enough tolerance and moved onto semi-lethal dosages, and purchased the albums Hot Rats, Grand Wazoo and Apostophe('). The last one was released in the year, when I was born (1974), and it included the hilarious 4-part rock suite about the unfortunate adventures of an eskimo named Nanook. One part of the suite is titled: Don't Eat the Yellow Snow. Sound advice at the time of a global pandemic, that originated from some peculiar pathogen spillover event in China, don't cha think?

Frank Zappa: Don't Eat The Yellow Snow

Not many colours left, I think...

Next up: purple.

I was exposed to the music of Jimi Hendrix via a documentary on TV, when I was a rosy-cheeked 7th grader in junior high. It happened around the same time, when I got my first electic guitar. So, I guess it must have been written in the stars, or something. The universe simply wanted me to focus on the noble art of guitarism, instead of getting a college degree on psychopathological marketing or accounting (fuck no!). My first guitar was a cheap stratocaster-copy with a Williams-logo on it. In a way, it resembled the vintage Mellotron keyboard: it simply would refuse to keep in tune. One of the first songs that I learned, despite the frustrating limitations imposed by the crap tuners on the guitar, was Purple Haze by Hendrix. I had to learn it by ear. You see, back in the gloomy days of the late 80's, there just wasn't that many guitar tabs around. Not in Finland, anyway. Later I did find an instructional guitar playing manual at the local library, with a few pages dedicated to the art of Jimi Hendrix. Mainly, the only viable option to learn any contemporary rock song, or even any classic from the days long gone, was either to learn it by ear, or to resort to the occassional tabs provided by the international guitar magazines – if you were fortunate enough to spot these much-sought publications at your local bookstore. (These fuckin' millennials have it SO easy!) On the other hand, learning to play primarily by ear must have developed my improvisational skills a great deal, as an added bonus. Improvisation is not so much about throwing up some pre-programmed fancy gimmicks at any given chance, but actually LISTENING to what your fellow musicians are playing and responding accordingly.

Next up: grey.

I think it was my dear wife, once again, who first introduced me to the band Thrice, by playing the song Digital Sea from the band's double album Alchemy Index, a long, long time ago. The band's vocalist/guitarist Dustin Kensrue is one of those few singers, who are blessed with a distinctive voice that speaks, or to be more precise, sings volumes. He might not have the same gravitas like Mark Lanegan or Tom Waits, but nevertheless, he has the voice of a protagonist who's been to hell and back. Mark Lanegan sounds like he's got a season ticket, and Tom Waits sounds like he's the devil running the show – or, to put it in Waits' own words:

”Don't you know, there ain't no devil,

that's just God when he's drunk...”

 Tom Waits: Heartattack and Vine

Anyways, the lyrics in a Thrice song could be compiled of a list of phone numbers, or the decimals of Pi (like Kate Bush actually did), and it would still sound like a profound wisdom concerning the transformative journey of being fully human.

Thrice: The Grey

Last but not least, the colour: turquoise.

For years, I actually thought that Boards of Canada was indeed a Canadian outfit. Y'know, indie bands in particular come up with these band names that have some funny and ironic twist. Somewhere along the way, it finally dawned on me that this magnificent electronic duo is actually from Scotland. Well, of course it is! If my memory isn't playing any tricks on me now, I'm pretty sure that Soulsavers and Hidden Orchestra are Scottish, too. And they all have something in common. Each of these electronic outfits has an extraordinary and unique, boss-level prominance in the way they manage to capture emotion in their instrumentals.

Boards of Canada released a 5-minute electronic epic titled Turquoise Hexagon Sun on the album Music Has the Right to Children in 1998. The name of the song is actually a reference to the duo's recording studio Hexagon Sun. It makes it even more marvellous, that an instrumental track with a title deriving from something so mundane can touch your heartstrings so deeply. It's not that often, when an electronic instrumental with a hip-hop beat, glassy vintage synth motifs and deliberately lo-fi production paired with grainy samples, manage to do that. These Scottish bastards must've been onto something...

Well, that's pretty much all there was to the first day in this music challenge! I was supposed to pick one song, and I ended up writing a fucking novel about it...Tomorrow the plot shall thicken even more, when I introduce you to the theme of the day #2.

In the meanwhile, you can do yourself a favour and listen to:

Boards of Canada: Turquoise Hexagon Sun

Stay tuned! Cheers!

0 notes

welovekpopscenarios · 7 years

Text

You have received a message (Yoongi x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Description: Just your daily texts between yourself and Yoongi, two people who love each other to the moon and back – you’re just too blind to see it.

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 3512

Authors Note: So, this was a fic I had started a while back, but only got to finishing now. I love Yoongi so, so fucking much and I really wanted to write something for him, and I also wanted to try something interesting with writing, so you have this weird texting format (since I’m not cool enough to make the actual fake text pics lmao). I hope it isn’t too hard to understand the names of each person messaging. Now that I think about this, this is kinda a mess lol, it seems kinda rushed to me, but I didn’t know any other way to pace it? but I figured if I never posted it, it’ll just sit there on my computer. So, I hope you enjoy regardless of what a trainwreck this is, and happy reading.

EDIT: This fic is better suited to be read on a computer, since it didn’t come out the best on mobile, but I hope that doesn’t ruin your experience!

- MOBILE VERSION -

Usernames

Reader: memekween pepeswife

Yoongi: suga daddy gramps Yoongs

Namjoon: Music Man

Jin: jinandjuice

Jhope/Hoseok: Hobo

Jimin: Jiminy Cricket ChimChim

Taehyung: Tea☕

Jungkook: jungcock

You have received a message

7th May 2017

(09:06pm)

memekween: hey hey suga daddy

suga daddy: please don’t call me that

memekween: but u are my suga daddy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

suga daddy: please don’t send that face either

suga daddy: what do you want

memekween: wow

memekween: r00d

memekween: I was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out with the most amazing person in this world

memekween: out of the goodness of my heart

memekween: but I don’t need this abuse smh

suga daddy: do you even realise what time it is?

memekween: yes

memekween: and?

suga daddy: it’s late and I’m busy

memekween: busy doing nothing?

suga daddy: exactly

memekween: ugh

memekween: I just wanted to know if you wanted to get some food

suga daddy: ah, so you just want to �� use my money for food

memekween: not exactly

memekween: who do you take me for? lmao

memekween: I also wanted to chat to my bestest friend in the whole wide world

memekween: cuz guess who got dumped today :DDD

memekween: hint – is ya girl

suga daddy: fuck

suga daddy: you ok?

memekween: yeah, I’m fine

memekween: kinda saw it coming, we weren’t working well

memekween: at least it was only a month together, you know?

memekween: could have been worse

memekween: it just sucks, I guess

memekween: I kinda liked him

suga daddy: my shoes are on

suga daddy: I assume you’re at home

suga daddy: get ready

memekween: thank youuuu

memekween: I love you

suga daddy: sure

memekween: take me somewhere fancy

suga daddy: I’m taking you to burger king

memekween: fine dining ( ͡°Ɛ ͡°) only the best from you

suga daddy: I really hate those faces

memekween: send one to me

memekween: experience the power of the lenny face meme

suga daddy: no

memekween: pleaseeeee??? I’m feeling sad rn…

suga daddy: ( ° ͜ʖ͡°)╭∩╮

memekween: a lenny face in true yoongi fashion

memekween: thank you

suga daddy: whatever, I’m leaving now

suga daddy: see you in a few

memekween: see you, yoongi

(Read 09:13pm)

You have received a message in the group chat

‘we dem boiiiizz’

21st May 2017

Jiminy Cricket: Hey guys! Do you guys wanna go bowling next weekend?

Jiminy Cricket: I just realised we haven’t done anything as a group in a while

Jiminy Cricket: I thought it would be a nice idea 😊

Hobo: Yeah, I’d be up for it!

Tea☕: Yeah, me too :D

Music Man: Sure

jinandjuice: This could be fun!

pepeswife: coolio, chimchim 😊

gramps: eh

jungcock: sounds cool, I’m in

gramps: ok I’m definitely not going now

Hobo: Me either bye I’m busy doing anything else that day

Tea☕: Same, I suddenly have plans

pepeswife: woops I’ve to water my bread, or smth of that nature

pepeswife: sorry, can’t make it

Music Man: LMAO

jinandjuice: Omg

jungcock: what? Wtf

Jiminy Cricket: C’mon guys…

pepeswife: I’m not going if junglebook is going

jungcock: wtf why? What the hell did I do??

gramps: you’re competitive as shit

pepeswife: yeah, and you always win

Tea☕: it’s not gonna be fun for the rest of us

jungcock: I can’t help it that I’m good at everything ‎😏

Hobo: I hate you

jungcock: fuck you too, neigh neigh

jinandjuice: stop fighting lol

Jiminy Cricket: Yeah! It’ll be fun, I promise! We can all team up against Jungkook!

jungcock: HEY

Tea☕: Now that is an idea I can get behind

jungcock: fuck you all

jungcock: I’m still gonna win

Music Man: What do we get if we win?

gramps: yeah what are the riches for the winners

Jiminy Cricket: Uh

Jiminy Cricket: Nothing?

pepeswife: now you see

pepeswife: that isn’t very enticing

Hobo: Yeah, you can do better than that

Music Man: Try again lol

Jiminy Cricket: Omg

Jiminy Cricket: Ok, we can all pitch in for pizza afterwards

jinandjuice: It’s not much of a prize if everyone has to pay for it

gramps: yeah, this isn’t convincing me

Jiminy Cricket: OMG I DON’T KNOW

Jiminy Cricket: I HAVEN’T ANY OTHER IDEAS

Tea☕: Let’s calm down now

jinandjuice: I have a coupon for a free burger at Burger King

jinandjuice: Winner gets that

gramps: sounds good enough

gramps: I like free food

jungcock: same

pepeswife: same

Music Man: cool with me

Hobo: same here

Tea☕: I’m ok with that

Jiminy Cricket: You people have very low standards

Hobo: Burger King is delicious

Music Man: Yeah, that isn’t low standards

pepeswife: yeah, Burger King is my jam

pepeswife: isn’t that right yoongi

gramps: you make me buy you some like every day

gramps: I’m broke because of you

pepeswife: excuse me

pepeswife: it isn’t every day

pepeswife: it’s like, every two days

jinandjuice: LOL

pepeswife: and forgive me for having expensive tastes

pepeswife: a girl likes to have the finer things in life

Jiminy Cricket: I wouldn’t class Burger King as one of the finer things in life

pepeswife: are you judging me and my poor life

Jiminy Cricket: Omg no!

Hobo: Smh you were Jimin

Hobo: Shame on you

Tea☕: Low blow, chimchim

Jiminy Cricket: OMG STOP

Jiminy Cricket: Are we going bowling next weekend or not??

pepeswife: I’m up for beating Jungkook

Hobo: Same!

Music Man: Me too

gramps: me too

jinandjuice: Let’s crush him

Tea☕: No mercy

jungcock: you’re all assholes

jinandjuice: Children shouldn’t swear

jinandjuice: I raised you better than this

jungcock: go fuck yourself

Music Man: Yoongi, stop teaching the baby how to curse

gramps: my bad

jungcock: I’m going to throw a bowling ball at each of your faces

Tea☕: Violent

pepeswife: the child has severe anger issues

jungcock: I’m going to bed

jungcock: bye

jungcock: I’ll be there next week to win

Hobo: And so the child rests

Jiminy Cricket: Ok! So it’s sorted!

Jiminy Cricket: I can’t wait!

Jiminy Cricket: I’m going to bed too, I’ll text you tomorrow!

Jiminy Cricket: Night!

Hobo: I’m gonna go to sleep too

Hobo: Early start tomorrow

Hobo: Night everyone :D

Music Man: I think we should all sleep, it’s late

Music Man: Night

pepeswife: night night <3

jinandjuice: Rest well everyone!

gramps: night

Tea☕: Sleep is for the weak

gramps: if you wake me up at 3am texting the groupchat

gramps: because you’re freaking out about aliens again

gramps: I will end your life

Tea☕: Gotta blast

Tea☕: Night! ^^;

(Read 01:37am)

You have received a message

24th May 2017

memekween: well this date isn’t going well

memekween: sigh

memekween: he started talking about how much of

memekween: ‘a babe’

memekween: his ex was

suga daddy: wait

suga daddy: you’re on another date?

memekween: yeah

memekween: I thought I told you this?

memekween: oh wait maybe that was jin

suga daddy: oh

suga daddy: well thanks for telling me

memekween: lol I’m sorry yoongi

suga daddy: sure

memekween: ??

memekween: uh ok

memekween: what’s the mood about?

suga daddy: I’m not in a mood

suga daddy: also isn’t this like the 100th date this week

memekween: uh wtf? I’ve only been on 2 dates

memekween: sorry if I want to find the love of my life

memekween: wtf is wrong with you tonight?

suga daddy: there’s nothing wrong with me

suga daddy: you just go on a lot of dates

suga daddy: you should stop wasting your time

suga daddy: especially on guys like that

suga daddy: you can do better

memekween: oh, and I suppose you know what’s better

memekween: do you?

memekween: give me a break

memekween: at least I try

memekween: when’s the last time you’ve been on a date?

suga daddy: I haven’t been interested in anyone lately

memekween: you haven’t been interested in anyone

memekween: ever

memekween: I don’t understand why you’re judging me

suga daddy: whatever

suga daddy: you’re so blind

suga daddy: have fun on your ‘date’

memekween: wtf do you mean I’m blind?

memekween: yoongi?

memekween: hello???

memekween: wow

memekween: ok then

memekween: when you get your head out of your ass

memekween: you can talk to me again

(Read 08:07pm)

You have received a message in the group chat

‘we dem boiiiizz’

28th May 2017

Hobo: I can’t believe Jungkook actually won

Hobo: Again

Hobo: I trained for years

Hobo: Honing my bowling skills

Hobo: Learning and meditating with the masters of the bowl

Hobo: Only to be bested

Hobo: By a mere child

jungcock: I told you it was going to happen

jungcock: no one can beat me

jungcock: I’ll enjoy my whopper while washing it down with a nice cold glass

jungcock: of your tears

Tea☕: you’re like 5 how did you beat us

jungcock: because I have the strength of the gods

jinandjuice: And because he eats the vegetables I give him

jungcock: and because I eat the vegetables Jin gives me

pepeswife: do you lace those vegetables with steroids or something

jinandjuice: Just how mother made it

Tea☕: omfg...

Jiminy Cricket: Tonight was fun, though!

Jiminy Cricket: Did everyone enjoy themselves?

Hobo: Yeah, I had a great time!

jinandjuice: We haven’t hung out like that in a long time

jinandjuice: I’m glad we did

jungcock: yeah, it was really fun

Music Man: Y/N certainly enjoyed herself

pepeswife: excuse me, Namjoon?

pepeswife: I have no idea what you’re talking about

pepeswife: suddenly I can’t read

Music Man: Hmm, ok

Music Man: But you can flirt back with the worker at the bowling alley perfectly

Tea☕: Oh yeah!

Tea☕: You got quite cosy with them, didn’t you?

Tea☕: ;)))))

Music Man: Yeah, lol

Music Man: She barely focused on the game

pepeswife: listen

pepeswife: they were nice, I’ll admit

pepeswife: but I don’t know if it will go anywhere

Hobo: You never know!

Hobo: You got their number, didn’t you?

pepeswife: yeah…

Hobo: So go for it!

Tea☕: Yeah, they seem nice!

pepeswife: idk…

jungcock: if they ever give you hassle

jungcock: they’ll have to go through me

jinandjuice: no one will ever hurt my favourite child

Jiminy Cricket: Favourite child?!

jungcock: I thought I was your favourite

jinandjuice: I love you all equally

jinandjuice: but Y/N doesn’t give me pity laughs when I make jokes

Music Man: Are you sure about that?

pepeswife: i d nOT GIVE PITY LAUGHS

pepeswife: JIN IS HILARIOUS

jinandjuice: thank you Y/N :’)

Tea☕: ANYWAY

Tea☕: It wouldn’t be us doing the beating up

Tea☕: It would be Yoongi, tbh

Music Man: True, actually

Music Man: Speaking of

Music Man: He’s been quiet in the chat, and all night actually

Hobo: Yeah! Yoongi, man, where are you?

gramps: I’m here

Tea☕: You’re quiet tonight

gramps: don’t have much to say

jinandjuice: What’s wrong?

gramps: nothing

gramps: I’m just tired

jungcock: when aren’t you lol

Music Man: What did you think of the person Y/N was talking to

Music Man: Think you could take em in a fight if you had to?

gramps: I don’t care

gramps: she can do whatever the hell she wants

gramps: I’m not watching over her like shes some kid

gramps: it’s her problem if something happens

Hobo: …damn

Tea☕: Uh that was kinda cold Yoongi

Music Man: We were only joking

jinandjuice: Did something happen, guys?

jungcock: you’ve been acting weird all night

jungcock: moodier than usual

Jiminy Cricket: Guys…

gramps: nothing happened

gramps: I’m going to bed

gramps: night

Hobo: Yoongi?

jinandjuice: Y/N did something happen??

pepeswife: uh idk

pepeswife: I’m tired too tho

pepeswife: so I’m gonna sleep now

pepeswife: night

Tea☕: Y/N? Wth?

jungcock: Y/N?

Jiminy Cricket: Just drop it guys.

Jiminy Cricket: Maybe they just need space.

Music Man: But what happened?

Jiminy Cricket: I don’t know, but we should all sleep

Jiminy Cricket: All of us asking won’t help.

Tea☕: I guess you’re right.

Tea☕: I’m gonna sleep, so. Night everyone

jungcock: yeah, me too. hopefully everything is fine in the morning

jungcock: see ya

jinandjuice: I hope they’re ok…

Music Man: I’m sure they’ll tell us. We should sleep. Night guys

Hobo: Night, I’m leaving too

jinandjuice: Alright…night.

jinandjuice: I hope everything works out.

Jiminy Cricket: I’m sure it will. You know them

Jiminy Cricket: they never fight for long

jinandjuice: I hope you’re right. Night Jimin.

Jiminy Cricket: Night, hyung.

(Read 11:53pm)

You have received a message

28th May 2017

ChimChim: What happened?

Yoongs: nothing

Yoongs: like I said

ChimChim: I’m not stupid, Yoongi.

ChimChim: I knew there was something up

ChimChim: The two of you had been acting weird all night

ChimChim: You’d barely look at each other let alone talk

ChimChim: And when she started talking to that worker

ChimChim: You got even worse, and spent the night glaring at the poor dude

ChimChim: So I want you to stop avoiding the question, Yoongi.

Yoongs: Nothing

Yoongs: Happened

Yoongs: I was just in a mood

Yoongs: end of story

Yoongs: now leave me the fuck alone

ChimChim: Yoongi, it’s me

ChimChim: You know you can trust me

ChimChim: You don’t have to keep everything bottled up

ChimChim: What happened between you and Y/N?

ChimChim: Was it because you didn’t like the person she was talking to?

ChimChim: I know you’re protective of her

ChimChim: Do you think they wouldn’t be good enough for her?

Yoongs: see

Yoongs: that’s the fucking thing

Yoongs: no one is ever good enough for her

Yoongs: they never will be

Yoongs: because she deserves the world

Yoongs: and it fucking kills me to see her go on date after date

Yoongs: or go through relationship after relationship

Yoongs: knowing I’ll never be fucking one of them

ChimChim: I’m…

ChimChim: Yoongi…I didn’t realise you felt this way..

ChimChim: Do you...like her?

Yoongs: Of course I do

Yoongs: actually no

Yoongs: I don’t just ‘like her’

Yoongs: I love her

Yoongs: I fucking have since we were teenagers and

Yoongs: fuck

Yoongs: I hate everything so much

Yoongs: and idk if I can be her friend anymore

Yoongs: because I honestly feel like my heart is shattering into a million fucking pieces

Yoongs: every time she goes on dates

Yoongs: and not even just by that

Yoongs: every time she smiles, or laughs, I know I can never say that she’s mine

Yoongs: and I try to be a good friend for her

Yoongs: but every time I’m near her my heart beats like crazy

Yoongs: and I feel like a stupid kid

Yoongs: and I love every single bit about her

Yoongs: and I mean every single bit

Yoongs: with all my heart

Yoongs: but I know she’ll never be mine

Yoongs: and I honestly don’t know if I can go through it anymore

Yoongs: and I don’t care if I’m being selfish

Yoongs: I can’t live a life without her but I don’t want to live a life where I’m not hers

Yoongs: where she won’t love me back

(Read 12:03)

Yoongs: jimin

Yoongs: jimin where the fuck did you go

Yoongs: are you serious right now?

Yoongs: fucking hell

(Sent 12:10am)

ChimChim: I don’t think that’s your choice to make

Yoongs: what choice?

ChimChim: Her loving you.

ChimChim: You don’t know what her answer would be.

Yoongs: yes I do

Yoongs: she’d never be with me

Yoongs: we’re ‘just friends’ in her eyes

Yoongs: and it’s too late to be anything else

ChimChim: Y/N lives near you, doesn’t she?

Yoongs: what?

ChimChim: Y/N. She’s close by your apartment, isn’t she?

Yoongs: yeah, around 10 mins away

Yoongs: wtf

Yoongs: why?

Yoongs: you hardly want me to go over there and profess my love, do you?

Yoongs: cuz it’s not going to happen

ChimChim: No, you don’t have to do that.

ChimChim: You just have to be ready to answer the door in a few minutes.

Yoongs: wait what?

Yoongs: what the fuck?

Yoongs: Jimin wtf do you mean by that?

ChimChim: Goodnight, Yoongi.

ChimChim: And good luck.

Yoongs: jimin?

Yoongs: JIMIN??

Before Yoongi could barrage Jimin with more questions about his cryptic messages, a faint knocking sound could be heard from where Yoongi lay fuming on his bed.

His eyes widened, and he shot up straight in bed, staying silent. Maybe if he didn’t answer, they’d go away? Just when he thought he was in the clear, the knocking came again, this time stronger, and Yoongi gulped, standing up to drag his feet to the front door, opening it reluctantly.

He was greeted to the sight of you bent over and panting heavily, as if you had just sprinted here (you had), clutching your phone in your hand. You tilted your head up at the sound of his door creaking open, and you stared at him with wide eyes, as he did the same to you.

Regaining your breath, you straightened up and shuffled awkwardly on your feet.

“Can I…come in? I need to talk to you,” you whispered, and Yoongi’s heart dropped to his stomach. Was this where you were going to get rid of him from your life for good? He knows you haven’t been talking since your argument, and he knows he said he couldn’t be your friend anymore, but now when the situation was right in front of him, he was terrified. He couldn’t lose you.

He wordlessly stepped aside, keeping his gaze on his feet and allowed you step into his apartment. You headed straight towards the couch where you sunk down into the cushions and sighed; a long weary sigh being dragged out from the confines of your chest.

Yoongi sat down hesitantly next to you, and then all was silent as you both struggled to think of something to say.

After what he figured was at least 5 minutes of dead quiet in the dark living room, you broke the silence. He heard you take a deep breath, and you shifted to face him on the couch, but he refused to gaze back at you.

“Yoongi,” you called, but he still did not raise his gaze, instead focusing his attention on his dirty, beat up sneakers with a scowl plastered on his face.

“Yoongi,” you tried again, but this time, you placed your hand under his chin and forced his gaze on you. And when he looked into your eyes; so wide and so warm and so beautiful, Yoongi broke.

“I love you, and I don’t know how the handle that,” he whispered, and flushed pink at his admission. “I know you don’t like me back, and that’s ok, but it isn’t because I love you so much and it hurts so much when you’re with someone else because I would kill for it to be me but it never will be and, fuck, I get so mad but I’m more sad and you drive me crazy-“

You effectively cut off his ramblings, by sealing your lips over Yoongi’s, and he became rigid under your touch. What? Was this actually happening? Are you sure? Are you really kissing him?

But then he felt the warmth of your hand move to cup his face, and he realised: yes, this was actually happening. Yes, you’re kissing him. And yes, this is the best thing he’s ever felt in his whole entire life.

He reciprocated the kiss as soon as he regained his sense, and pressed his lips to yours in a hard, bruising kiss, but one that was sweet and lovely and amazing and he wanted more. He saw stars as you slanted your lips over his, moving softly against his chapped ones, and Yoongi brought shaking hands to rest on your waist, clutching you tight.

But the need to breathe soon became a problem, and you broke apart, panting and never tearing your gaze off one another.

“You are such an idiot,” you laughed, and he tilted his head in confusion. “I’ve been in love with you since the first day I met you, Min Yoongi. I always have been, and I always will be.”

His heart sped up as he heard those words, and his jaw nearly dropped, but then he remembered: “What about all the dates, and relationships? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You ducked your head, giving an awkward laugh, “ah, those. Those were to help me get over you, since I thought you didn’t like me back. They never worked, though.”

He raised a brow.

“Now who’s the idiot,” he asked, and yelped when you slapped his chest. “I’ve been in love with you since you bumped into me in school and I had to help you pick up your books.”

“We’re BOTH idiots,” you said. And as you stared at each other, you both burst into full blown laughter at your ridiculousness, smiling wide and tugging each other closer. When the laughter died down, you held Yoongi’s face in your hands, and he nearly melted.

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” you whispered, and he gave the goofiest grin; a grin brimming with adoration.

“And I love you, Y/N,” he replied, and leaned in to steal another kiss.

“So, did Jimin tell you?”

“He actually took a screenshot of your conversation and sent it to me.”

“God damn it, Jimin.”

130 notes · View notes

kpop4dummies · 7 years

Note

Hi! Could I request a Ikon reaction/scenario (whatever format u prefer 😊) to them confessing to their friend? - like if they would plan everything or if they would just randomly say it or would it be when they're drunk - like the situation and what would they say! *sorry if it's too specific!* really like ur blog 💕 thank u 🌼

I never realized how long these ones could be and I accidentally made mini scenarios but oh well :,) And I swear I wasn’t being biased towards anyone, I worked from top to bottom all day so the length of every member became longer as I got closer and closer to the maknaes :,( – As usual, I hope you enjoy :D - Fay

Jinhwan is a romantic, honestly. But he’s a pretty casual guy. He would plan his confession for sure, but it would be a simple one. It a night where all the boys are out somewhere and you just happened to be free that night. Of course, he would invite you over to the dorms to eat some ramen and watch a drama series with him. How could you say no? Of course, you come over comfortable and ready to sit on the floor. As the drama started, you noticed that it was your favorite romantic comedy where it got steamy at times. It sometimes even made you flustered just watching it. How did he know it was your favorite drama? Who even knew that you watched this? As you turned to ask him, he was staring at you with a small smile starting to pull on the corner of his lips. “How did I know?” *nod* “Well, if I recall correctly, a little birdie told me that you had a crush on me. But wanna know what else?” “What is it?” “I like you too, ____.” The expression on your face said it all. You were a blushing mess, covering yourself up from him as he chuckled and reached over to remove your hands from over your face. And there it was, he gave you a simple kiss on the lips. As much as you wanted to pull away, you lingered longer. And soon enough, you felt his hands travel to your waist, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled away. “So, how about we reenact the scenes from the drama hm?” oh my god i’m so inlove with this concept tho so simple and ifalwirhbvfqherjb

Yunhyeong strikes to me as an unusual confessor. He would try to find all the unique and kinda weird ways to confess his crush on you. He was 100% ecstatic to find that you felt the same way about him. And so, the way he confessed to you was time consuming, but it was all worth it. It was maybe about ten days before your birthday and everyday leading up to your birthday, there was a random bouquet of flowers along with a card that said a sweet poem on it (things like the “roses are red, violets are blue. even if it’s winter, these flowers bloom beautifully like you” sappy shit). The card would even countdown on the days to your birthday at the top, but it would never have a name on it. But on the day of your actual birthday, there was no bouquet but card that gave you a location for your birthday dinner. It wasn’t a place you recognized as you searched it up. So instead, you went off to the restaurant. It seemed so pricey and expensive, who is even able to afford all of this for you? It’s your special day after all, as one would say. But you noticed that the mysterious person wasn’t there as you gave a name to a hostess who didn’t recognize the name in the reservations, but offered to reserve a table. The person left a phone number on the card, recognizing that this was Yunhyeong’s phone. And so, you called the number, tapping your foot as you waited for the line to connect. Just as it connected, Yunhyeong came through the door, a bouquet in hand with his other holding the phone close to his ear. He was smiling widely at you and as he held the phone close to his ear. “Hey ____?” “Huh?” “I really like you.” And to say the least, that was the best birthday ever.

Bobby is the type to just say it when he feels it’s right. The mood doesn’t have to be romantic or “perfect”, but when it’s the right timing. After a long and absolutely horrid day at work/school, you just wanted to stay home and rest up trying not to write an angry email, worst Friday ever. However, Jiwon wanted to change that. It was starting to get dark that day, but you got comfortable and walked over to meet him at a random corner of the park. You two started to just take a walk, talking about the day you’ve had and why it sucked. It eventually went off to going to convenience stores and snacking on whatever you bought to walking in the streets of the city, screaming and having fun like you were back in high school. By the time the fun started dying out, it was late, maybe 4 am. You took a train home, and luckily there was no one else in the car with you. You were half asleep on the ride home trying not to fall asleep on the bench, seeing as Jiwon is still clearly awake. He wasn’t trying to keep you awake at all, instead holding you up against his shoulder so you wouldn’t bang your head against the glass. He wouldn’t even hesitate to compliment how pretty you looked falling asleep. “____, how dare you look so beautiful.” “What do you mean…” “You being half asleep is the cutest thing in the world.” “So am I not cute when I’m not half-asleep?” “You’re more than just cute, ____. You’re smart too. And pretty hot.” “Jiwon!” He would only chuckle, giving you a kiss on the temple of your head. “I really like you so much, ____. You know that?” OK I MADE THIS MORE INTO A DATE THING THAN CONFESSION BUT OH WELL KIM JIWON

Hanbin is the type to have it all planned out and delicately placed, until he got drunk off his ass one night. He has this perfect and romantic confession for you that would have you blown off your own two feet. And then he saw you with a guy on the streets, holding his hand and giving him so much affection. Now don’t get me wrong, he isn’t the person who drinks his problems away. It just happens to be that on the night out with the boys, there was alcohol and one thing happened after another and there you are, carrying him to your apartment alone while everyone else was having fun. Not that you didn’t mind carrying him home, but it didn’t help your case that he was swearing someone off while mumbling. Finally in your living room, you dropped him onto the couch and got up to wash up and get ready for bed. But Hanbin’s grip on your waist didn’t let up, he kept you tight around him. “Hanbin, I need to pee.” “I don’t care, I won’t let you go~” “You will if I call the police.” “Yeah right, jagi~” “What?” “Wait, ____. We’re not even together yet!” He at the time would drunkenly confess to you, how jealous of how close you are to that guy on the street earlier, and soon enough he passed out on your couch. The next morning, he had a painful hangover and attempted to go home before he saw you. Until you came into the living room and took care of him. “So, you accidentally confessed while drunk last night.” “What? No! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! I had everything planned out!” “Calm down, you might give yourself another headache.” “Yah yah, whatever…” He would let you do your thing, sitting in silence. It became a little awkward as there was no noises, except for the A/C that would try to break the silence. He finally spoke up as you finished up. “Listen, ____. I really like you. I didn’t mean to tell you all those things last night. Do you still like me even after seeing me that way?” “Do you think I would be doing this if I didn’t like you? Of course I do! I was only waiting for you to say that you felt the same.”

Donghyuk is also another accidental confessor. Only because you were being sneaky as hell. He did have a big fat crush on you. He liked you alot. But he didn’t plan to confess to you or anything, he just thought that he wouldn’t have any chance on asking you out. Your favorite hobby to do with him was watching movies until the crack of dawn. He invited you over to the dorm to watch a couple movies with him since he hasn’t seen them in awhile. And who were you to say no? Movie marathons were the best with him since he gave the best cuddles and made the best movie snacks. As usual, you went off into the dorms in the most comfortable outfit in your whole closet and sat on the couch next to him as he started up the discs. The movies would be romcom or horror to drama and indie. And the final one he set up was your favorite romantic-comedy indie movie, something like Juno. You wanted to stay up and watch it for the upteenth time, yet you fell asleep with his arms wrapped around your waist as you laid your body ontop of his. He didn’t realize you two were in the position until the movie started to roll up it’s ending credits. But he didn’t pull away, instead he sunk into the comfortable position and held you even tighter. He started to even talk to himself. “Gosh ____. Why do you do this to me? Why are you so pretty. I wish you can see me he way I see you. Argh, I like you so much… Why is it so hard to even tell you that.” “Well you just said it.” “Huh?! You were awake?” He thought he was alone, he didn’t realize that you were awake this whole time. Then suddenly it would sink in that he was unintentionally confessing to you, making him go into a bit of a panic. “You must’ve heard me…” “Yeah, I did.” “I had to sound like a lovesick idiot. I didn’t mean for it to go that direction.” “If you think you sound like an idiot, you should hear me talk about you. And you wanna know something?” “What is it,” he asked with a small smile tugging at his lips, desperate to match the happy and sheepish expression on your face. “I like you too, Donghyuk. Alot.” Watching Juno or The Perks of Being A Wallflower with Donghyuk would be amazing as he held me ugh i’m in love

Junhoe is someone to plan out a date, but he didn’t plan to confess his crush on you. It’s kinda hard for him to show off his feelings, he’s just that way. Which is why his confession is difficult for him to get out. Junhoe really likes you, he just really struggles to find the words for it. And so, he proposed an idea that you two drive out to the woods and just sit and look at the stars (let’s pretend he knows how to drive ok calm tf down). The drive was pretty quiet on his end, but he loved hearing you talk about your day. He loved the sound of your voice and how you emphasized words to make your point. He found it adorable. Once finding the spot in the woods where there was a clearing, he parked the car in the center, helping you get out of the car before he sat on the hood. But not before turning the stereo and playing a CD he made the night before. It was compiled with all your favorite love songs, a couple of his own, and some slow edm/vaporwave-ish kind of music. Sitting on the hood of course you observed the stars that sprinkled the dark blue sky and the moon that hid behind the tall tree tops. It was so dark, but at the same time was illuminated. But the night would not be complete if there wasn’t an intellectual conversation about the moon or why we contemplate existence. Everything was so perfect to him, but atlast. You started falling sleep on the hood as the deep, thumping bass and calm melody and harmonies lulled you to sleep. Junhoe had no choice but to carry you into the car himself, buckling you up and shutting the door so he could drive you home. All he was left with was the CD and your soft snoring sounds. He admired you in your sleep. He thought you were so beautiful. As he pulled up into the drive way of your house, he turned to look at you, still peaceful in your sleep. But it didn’t take long for you to wake up as he shook you and told you to get up. And as you woke, you realized his face was so close to yours, his hand grabbing gently at your shoulder with his breath brushing down your neck. He looked so perfect just staring at you. But even what happened next surprised you and him both. Your lips touched, and you lingered longer there as the music played throughout the speakers of the car softly. The only time he pulled away was just to say, “Why am I so in love with you? I like you so much, ____…” so hella detailed and shit i’m weak for this 2000 highschool movie concept it fits him so well for me idk what this is

Chanwoo is a shy boy and is most likely not much of the romantic type. He knows nothing of seducing or anything like that, especially to his crush who is his best friend. But he does have his own charms, and that’s what makes his confession so special. He would probably go to the park and just lay there as he thought intellectually. Like what would happen if he just man up and confessed to you. Or what would life be like if he didn’t and let you be with another person. He was deep in his own world that he wouldn’t even notice you rolling under the tree with him, poking at him and giving him a wide smile. When he did notice, he would be pretty shocked. “Oh my god! _____, when did you get here?” “Question is, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with the boys?” “Why, can’t a guy just go to the park and relax?” “Not if the guy was as tall as that tree.” He would take this time to talk to you, what were you up to, what assignments you finished up at work/school, what was the latest topic of drama and gossip. After all, he wanted to know that you were doing ok and you were fine and well. But as he listened, his own thoughts over powered your voice. As he got absorbed in his own world, you noticed and tried to get his attention. Everything from playful nicknames to pokes on his arm or stomach. “Yah! Jung Chanwoo, you still there?” “…Huh?” “What’s up with you? You seem to be bothered by something.” “It’s nothing, I promise.” “The ‘I promise’ doesn’t sound promising. C’mon, I won’t judge you for anything. I’m your best friend for a reason” He wouldn’t even know what to do in this situation, he would just bite his lip in hopes that you didn’t notice anything. Now that you saw him nervous, he can’t hide it anymore. He saw this as a chance of now or never. “Well… I was thinking about you.” “… Keep going?” “_____, I think I’m in love with you?” Your eyes widened. You couldn’t say anything or even move from your spot on the grass. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.” “How come I didn’t know?” “Well,think about it this way. Would you tell your crush you liked them?” “I would now that he’s made the first move.” “…Huh?” “You idiot, I like you too. I always have. I mean, isn’t it pretty obvious?” “Not really, you’re pretty expressionless~” “And you say you like me, hehe~” Of course, even if he was your crush, the best friend vibe was still there. But what made it the best feeling in the world is that he liked you as much as you liked him. If love was a drug and this is what it felt like, you would be stuck on it. THIS ONE IS SO LONG SO MUCH DIALOGUE HOLY SHIT

57 notes · View notes

krakenator · 5 years

Text

CHAPTER 19 aka “Time Out”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

Dude, Hero’s schism got fucked WIDE open my god. Then again, running directly into a storm of Nothing can’t have done anything good for it

Clever girl solves the equation. Immediately sets out to test it despite fears because it is GOOD SCIENCE

But chickens out when source of experiment shows signs of vague consciousness. Fair enough

BUT- turning his dial to TV mode is supposed to knock him the fuck out ENTIRELY. RGB is supposed to JUST be a TV and nothing more. Negative once again out there breaking all the set rules, like the menace he is. Even if its just sleep-talking

Aww- the amour took a real beating, but it did a MARVELOUS job protecting her- the bottom half of her face is pretty much 100% fine! Thank god for turtlenecks

More speechbubbles directly from the mystery man himself! So, Negative’s text is white and his bubbles are rectangular static

And once again… the flower dies once it has fulfilled its purpose

the actual petals are sticking around this time... this is gonna be one heckuva beautiful but incredibly weird ruin people come across. that the Idea and snail will come across

WHY IS the Idea following them, anyway???

Hero you precious bean I would kill and die for you

But YIKES her voice. Don’t do Nothing, kids

Lovin’ these parallels. Both times RGB’s finished being Negative Hero’s had to drag him places, sings, and wears his hat. Last time it was sad, this time its funny

Look at how tall the fence is. LOOK AT IT. I don’t CARE how much we’ve established that RGB is a secret muscle boy, how the FUCK did he throw her 50 feet in the air

I mean its possible the Nothing shifted around the sand bordering the fence so much that sea level dropped a bunch but STILL. HECKUVA YEET

About this door though… was it always here? Did it just... appear for them? It’s also the only one here. Back when first entering, the door RGB used was amongst a bunch of them. Time’s hangout also has a bunch of these doors.

having said that... hold on. hold the fuck on

its the same goddamn place. we’ve come full circle, baby! and, even MORE evidence-

same doors!

Oh, OH! New suit!

PAN FLAG PAN FLAG PAN FLAG

WE STAN ONE DISASTER PANSEXUAL ON THIS BLOG

RGB thinks he’s a distinguished pan but we all know the truth

Have I mentioned before loving how Hero’s thoughts are shown as a kids drawing? If so I’ll say it again, because I love it

Something tells me RGB’s gonna reach for the nightmare Hero just threw about willynilly and find it missing at a super unfortunate moment. it’s basically got it’s own panel, this si gonna come back to bite us

Are you ever LATE to anything if you’re literally Time? Asking for a certain white rabbit

Interesting that fire in this story has so far only been a destructive force- the sun’s scorching nature and its association with light, the burning iron to RGB’s face that killed him, how Nothing is reminiscent of a forest fire; and yet here, to burn Hero’s tongue is to restore her voice

TIME’S DESIGN THOUGH

I love how he’s basically three people/perspectives jammed into one body all interacting with each other. It’s bonkers

How he interacts with himself across pages

His speech is black box, echoing white text (so, kinda the inverse of RGB) and I love how clock hands act as tails, joining boxes from one to the other to easier follow the flow of his speech

His domain is apparently outside of the Make Believe? like, in this weird inbetween-

motherfucker

THE CHAPTER TITLE IS “INBETWEEN” GOD DAMNIT

HIS THORAX IS AN HOURGLASS

Time is helping them, giving Hero back some color and draining RGB of some festering emotion. Time heals all wounds

Time’s candle’s are also growing throughout the entire interaction- they begin as uneven stubs on page 364... and finish as full antlers

BUT BACK ON TIME’S HANGOUT BEING INBETWEEN WORLDS- Hate’s hangout is also like this. we enter/exit the Make Believe through these golden doors, Dial ALSO exits the comic by walking through a door. a far more hidden one, but same principle. Makes you wonder if Time also has a method of cutting you out of the story like Hate did to Jules and Melody

Is Time literally telling me that the reason RGB bleeds out of his face is because he is emotionally constipated on a chronic level? That’s amazing. That’s incredibly on brand for RGB

So, honestly, paying for Madras’ wares with pints of color is probably kinda good for him. Let out your feelings a little

BLOODLETTING IS A LEGIT MEDICAL PRACTISE, YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FOLKS!!!

But back on that joke way back where music lesbians were ragging on RGB about what he tastes like; considering it’s literally an almost incomprehensible mashup of his bottled up emotions, “sharp”, “sour”, and “cheesy” are probably real, literal, and canon

The canonical answer is “awful”

Color restoration, go!

Time’s heating up the colors using one of his candle flames- distilling it? And what’s getting sprinkled in there?

i think the crunched up stuff is the star he pulls down on page 367?

CONFIRMED on next page: the medicine was ‘starlight, feelings, and regret’

So if they had’t run into Time and RGB had woken up, do you think he would have solved Hero’s coloring dilemma the same way? “Here, Hero, come now, drink up. It’s only my blood”

Huh- so acknowledging the contradiction of the fire to heal Hero. And flame is used once again to heat up the sand sprinkled into the drink so it wasn’t frozen

So RGB is never fully dead. Interesting.

eeeey, Hero’s schism has also knitted back together a bit- we’re back to what is, at this point tbh, the usual baseline of schism

Y O we’re gonna see Madras again!! yes!!!! now the question is- is Time just saying “yeah you’ll run into her again soon” or “i personally will expedite things so you run into her soon. its juts a lil time travel”

Hate took/will take Time’s eye? Bruh. At least my exes never poked out my eyes. Are we getting set up for an eye for an eye pun here mod? Are we? Did Time poke out one of Hers first or are we gonna get to see Time come in later to exact equivalent revenge?

alternatively, ‘she’ is Madras. after all, we can’t tell if Time is speaking with with capitalization here, since ‘she’ only appears at the beginning of sentences. either way, it’s looking like we’l be going back (or forward?) to the House of Paint!

this is also a super neat example of using page composition to tell us which Time is speaking, and using the growth state of antlers as another visual cue.

Time is... a hare...... has antlers....... that’s a fucking jackalope

ADDITIONALLY the antlers are candles, which......... JACK O’ LANTERN? REALLY MOD?? I LOVE THIS

She loses WHAT

MOD? HELLO? WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU PLANNING FOR MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTER HUH

More exposition on why Hero entering the Make Believe kills her “waking” identity

(dreamy sigh) mod, I know I’ve yelled at you a lot throughout this entire reading but please now it is out of deep, reverent love for the story and worldbuilding because mod, modmad, uncle mod, sarah jolley- you are hitting exactly on all my favorite story setting tropes. Hero’s out of her mind. God. Fuck. I love it. this might be my favorite page

i f uckign- love this panel? reinforcing that Hero’s home is so close, and yet so far- it’s under their feet, but unattainable. she can’t go back, and ‘home’ is looking far more like her thoughts and scribbling than it is a tangile reality. she’s just. in the clouds n-

her head is in the clouds >:(

TIME PLEASE. DON’T BLAME ME FOR HERO’S PREDICAMENT BY STARING OUT AT ME WITH THEM BEADY EYES

Time, snidely: They know who They are

I love the full antlers. how far we’ve come in just like... jesus christ, did all this manage to happen in just 9 PAGES? this has been........ a lot lmao

Dgsafjkghf Time LITERALLY ROCKS HER TO SLEEP that’s amazing

Time wtf the fuck do you mean that’s the same word twi-

...I gotcha

RGB is going to wake up so confused. Where did this weird glass boat thing come from? Why are all the tricks up his sleeve littered all over the floor what the hell. HERO WHY ARE YOU COLORS FADED. WHAT DID YOU DO. Damn, at least I’m in my swankiest suit of all

The moon starts to wane as Time spins it! Neat detail

well that only took forever! we’re caught up to the comic at this point in time- I mean, chapter 20 is like 5 pages underway but I kinda like the format of just doing it all in ONE BIG GO, so I guess we can expect the next one’a these to be when Cut To concludes. that’ll be a while, but hey, good to marinate on stuff for a while

there’s already so much going on in chapter 20 oh god thINGS ARE HAPPENIIIIIING

Next time on TPoH we’re checking in on all those other cool cats of the comic

#tpoh #the property of hate #tpoh time with gill #LIFE AND THE POSSIBLE ADHD KICKED MY ASS ON THIS ONE BUT ITS HERE

1 note · View note

dapperfvck-arc · 7 years

Text

How do you run your blog?

Repost; Do Not Reblog

Speed: It really depends. Usually I’ll get to a thread within a week or two at the longest. Given that have several partners that I talk to and plot with daily/weekly, we generate a lot of new ideas frequently and when something takes awhile, it usually got buried by under a crust of new threads and occasional meme prompt ask. My drafts box is like an archeological site, I swear. Sometimes I do have trouble with inspiration for a reply, but usually it’s just a matter of getting wrapped up with my little circle of friends and co-writers.

A side note, during my working week, my productivity slows to a crawl. I’m usually better off in Skype or tumblr IM and may get to a thread or two either before or after work if I’m just not in lurk/shit post mode until I pass out.

Replies: Aesthetically I use extremely light formatting. The first word always bolded and italicized and default size with all other text smaller. I also bold the quotation marks in dialogue because it looks hella cool on my blog proper given that I have bolded/italicized text is a different colour than the rest of the text. It also looks classy af on the dash. Icons for either FC depending on verse or comic caps are used until it gets to nsfw stuff or with some drabble prompts. As for preferences, I’m really quite flexible. Honestly, tho, I’m a multi-para whore and with most threads, eventually they start to get longer and longer. However, unless I can’t parse my muse’s thoughts on a matter or situation, I won’t go in hard and fast on a one-liner or small single para. Unless you’re one of my people, but then again, you prolly already have experience being slapped with my throbbing multi-para hard-on.

I don’t expect people to match me, and sometimes I may struggle to match length, as well, but I do like to see an attempt. Like if I give you a four para starter, I would prefer not to get a two sentence reply back (some of you are shaking your head, but this actually happened to me in my halcyon days in the community).

Starters: I don’t do greeters, because idk, for me it feels like when a teacher called on you because you weren’t paying attention. Nearly every time I’ve gotten a greeter, I’m unprepared and feel quite suddenly pressed. The RPC is already a ball of anxiety 85% of the time and I don’t want to add to anyone’s discomfort, providing I’m not the only crazy person who reacts to getting a greeter like a distant gunshot. Depending on how clogged my drafts box is and how busy I am, I probably post a starter call every couple weeks and open starters very rarely because like, idk, no one ever hops on them, so I don’t really feel like they’re welcome. In the case of the latter, I only ask that people read the tags. Some open starters are meant for mutuals, particularly ones with some established interaction.

Unless they’re plotted starters (or replies to longer ask box meme responses that I wanted to turn into a thread), they usually start short and often vague. Please don’t keep it vague. It drives me nuts. I want you to present an idea, go out on a limb, whatever (I mean within reason of course, use your common sense, too).

Inbox: It’s a mess, tbqh. A lot of times I mindlessly reblog or queue memes, especially at work or when I’m out and about on mobile, and then don’t feel like doing them or get excited over certain prompts over others. I will say that I keep things in my inbox for a very long time and might get to replying to prompt weeks to months later. Frequently I will draft ones that I know will be long.

Selectivity: Hoooo boy. I’m pretty fucking selective tbh. I like my partners to be literate and of course be able to enjoy their portrayal/character. That’s not to say I’m not open to meeting new people and interacting with new muses. I don’t need to know your muse extensively to RP with you, but I’m also perfectly willing to educate myself (I’m not going to front, I was compelled to watch both Daredevil and Preacher for the sake of character/canon research, as well as starting to read Lucifer). Also, I mostly RP with mutuals, but again, that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to discover new mutuals, you feel me?

Sometimes when my stress levels are high or I’m drowning in drafts, I tend to be a bit more standoffish and stick to “my people”, however this doesn’t last for long and may be broken by a compelling enough new interaction.

Wishlist item: *pounds table aggressively* CONSTANTINE FAM! AND I SUPPOSE THIS IS REALLY SELFISH BUT I WANT A CHERYL OR GEMMA RP BLOG IN MY LIFE. AND IDEK MAYBE HAVING A CHERYL BLOG WOULD BE BORING AS SHIT, BUT A GEMMA??? SURELY TO FUCK SOMETHING FASCINATING COULD BE DONE WITH HER. Also: CHAS! ELLIE! HELL BLAZER CANON CHARACTERS PLS.

ahem.

Anyway, idk, I really don’t have a wishlist? I mean, there are certain themes I’m keen to explore. Like my mythological bent to John, and developing certain verses, but like...all things considered I’m just more interested in world and relationship building than ticking off a wishlist of AUs or situations I want to see played out.

Honest note: I’m fiercely independent, and I don’t put up with bullshit. Honestly, I don’t have much tolerance for drama and the easiest way to push me away is pull me into a vortex of social or interpersonal drama. Been there, done that, and honestly I can be a bit skittish if I start getting a weird vibe. I’m coming up on five years RPing on tumblr and there’s not a lot that shocks me anymore.

A few more admissions:

-- I love writing ships. When I wrote fanfic, it was 95% shippy stuff. That doesn’t mean it’s all about romance, fluff, and sex, sometimes it’s just how two muses relate to each other or a glimpse into their lives together, but I know my strengths and tend to default to them. This doesn’t mean I’m out to collect lovers for John or am not willing to step out my comfort zone, just that there’s going to be a lot of that stuff here.

-- If we talk ooc, there’s a 100% more possibility that you’re going to get more attention from me both ic and ooc. It’s just a matter of comfort level. Though I might seem together and confident, it’s only really in regard to my writing. I’m intimidated by people who are so much better at being witty and fun and silly on tumblr and chatty about their characters and fandom outside of the constraint of meme prompts or whatever. I guess I’m just afraid of boring people or having followers roll their eyes like “omg Iggy stfu. Don’t you have twenty-odd replies? Chop, chop you anal retentive bitch.” Mind, no one’s actually said this to me, I just have dodgy self-esteem, honestly, and some days are worse than others.

-- If I tell you I think you’re a good writer, I mean it. This is important.

-- If I tell you I’m worried about the quality of a reply I gave you, I’m not fishing for compliments, I’m legitimately uncertain that you’ll like it. Just fyi.

-- I’m bad at writing m/f ships in any expedient manner. I have no good excuse for this other than being queer trash that would rather write about men being in love and lust. And uh, that’s not a good excuse at all. I’m just the literal worst and I’m sorry I come off as not inclusive enough. Honestly, I’m trying to be better about this deep failing of mine.

-- I apologize a lot for things I shouldn’t. Sorry lol

Tagged by: @vamptrampbamf

Tagging: @dcviltongued, @aliasinvestigate, @hittcr, @haharlarious, @riskedfalling, @hawkwxrd, @rageinmybones

#w ow this got real ahhgdhtghd

3 notes · View notes