There is a statue carved in to the mountain. You know this. Everyone knows this. You ask, once, who the statue is of. No one knows. There are whispers, hardly spoken. It is a temple. You ask who it is a temple to. No one knows.
A monster attacks the town. You have never seen anything like it. Protectors you have never met step forward and defeat it. They leave before you can thank them. You rebuild what has been destroyed. A monster attacks the town. You have never seen anything like it.
There is a boy. His name is Steven. You do not know how you met him. You ask when he came to the town. He has always lived here, someone says, he’s Greg’s son. You think that you have met Greg. You ask where Steven lives. No one knows. No one ever knows. You don’t know anything about Steven. You like him anyways.
There is no school. There is never any school. School is out for the summer, they say, but you continue to receive grades. You haven’t been to school. You have never been to school. They continue to send you grades. You’re getting worse.
You sit on the beach with your feet in the water. The tide pulls out. You worry that it will not return. The tide returns. It always returns. You don’t remember why you ever worried.
The cool kids drive past you. You don’t remember ever meeting them, but you know they are cool. You can’t remember a time when they weren’t the cool kids. You know their names. They do not know yours.
You don’t know your name.
They are holding the mayoral elections. Mayor Dewey is campaigning. You do not know who he is running against. You do not know if there is someone he is running against. He wins the elections by a landslide. He continues to campaign. He can not stop. There has always been a Mayor Dewey. There will always be a Mayor Dewey.
You can not name your parents, but you know that they mean well. They always mean well. You are certain you still live with them, but you don’t know where you live. You do not know your name. You are certain that your parents love you.
There are strangers on the pier. They do not look human. You greet them politely and treat them as if they are normal. They are normal. You don’t know why anyone would ever assume otherwise. You think that they are heroes, but you don’t know what they have saved. You treat them with respect anyways.
No one ever speaks of the war. You ask someone, once, and they can not remember. The world has always been this strange. There is nothing to fear. You do not ask again.
Every day the boats go out to fish. You have never seen them leave or return, only appear and disappear. They return with fish. They always return with fish. You have never seen anyone eat the fish. It is forbidden. You do not know where the fish go.
If you walk far enough you will find old places, ruined, full of artifacts. None of them have been blocked off, but you know not to enter. These places are dangerous. It is better to pretend that they don’t exist.
There are lights in the sky that are not stars. Sometimes they grow brighter and fade away. Other times they grow larger. Always larger. Approaching. You do not know when they will arrive.
Earthquakes shake the town. There are always Earthquakes.
Keep Beach City Weird, the boy says. Beach City has never been weird. Everyone dismisses what he has to say as nonsense. This is normal. Beach City is normal. He never talks to you about the fact you don’t have a name. You wouldn’t know what to say.
Steven does something. “Classic Steven”, you say, but you can not remember what makes you say that. You know him. Everyone knows him. He always looks the same. A part of you wonders how. The rest of you replies, “Classic Steven.”
One of the strangers is purple. If you look at her long enough, she will shift form. You are not certain she is real. You start to watch other things, waiting to see them shift forms. Most of the time, they do nothing.
Half of the games on the boardwalk are out of order. You wait for the repair crew. You are always waiting for the repair crew. You do not know if they can even be repaired, now.
There are some plants that you do not go near. You have not seen a Rose in a long time. One day, watermelons are added to the list. You do not know who added it, but no one has eaten watermelons since.
They hold a parade each year. You know this. You remember having watched the parade, but you do not know what it is for. You do not know when it is held. No one does. It seems uncertain the parade will ever come. You wait for the parade.
There is only one empty lot you have ever seen, and it sits behind the Big Donut. Nothing is ever built there. You do not know who owns the lot, but it is empty.
You miss your parents. You aren’t certain when they left, or if they are even gone. You miss them anyways.
You are always friendly. You have always been friendly. You accept all of the strangers. Except for the ones who have been run out of town. You do not talk about them, except in rude whispers. What a jerk, you say. You are friendly. You do not want to be run out of town.
There are storage units. They do not look large enough to hold much. You walk in to one and you walk. You keep walking. There is no end to the storage units. You could spend your entire life in the storage units. When you finally walk out, you are not to certain as to if you’ve actually left. You do not enter one again.
Do not go up to the lighthouse, they tell you. You would go up when you were young, in hordes, and not all of you would come back. You see children playing in the green. You want to warn them, but you are too afraid to get close.
The funland amusement park and the funland arcade sit on opposite sides of the town. You tried to walk between them, but you arrived before you started. You do not know where the switch occurs. You do not care.
At night you sleep easily. You do not remember the things that should keep you awake at night. Sometimes, in your dreams, you will see Steven. He is not a part of this dream. Classic Steven, you think. You don’t know what anything means.
I don’t understand it when you find an unformatted fic on on AO3 (aka The Giant Wall of Text). Is it a phone posting thing? How can you not notice that you’ve got a fic blob on your hands?
Do people fling their fics at the site and run away, never to look back?
I very much love Garcia Flynn. Definitely too much. We don’t deserve a character so complex and tragic. But also yes I do. Give me more. I earned this. I’ve sat through so many black and white characters. Give me all those shades of gray.
As for the group picture near the end, you know I’m on the Lucy is Flynn’s wife train. All aboard. I will hold out for this until they blatantly tell me no. Probably not even then really. And if it isn’t true, boy, do I have enough observations and theories to make a kickin AU.
do you think gansey had been to the barns pre-series?
part of me wants to say yes, because he and ronan were best friends, but part of me wants to say no? because, like, there’s a lot of dream things/Obvious Magic at the barns? a lot of stuff that can’t really be Explained? right?
its been a long, stressful run for a couple years now and 1,000+ followers later im stepping out. thanks for all the memories and stirring up my anxiety disorder, theres really nothing like this place. but its for the best.