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magpiemorality · 4 years

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A Freeing Cage

Fantasy AU, Pre-Intruality.

This one is a fantasy universe where Roman is King of the kingdom, and Patton is on his way to get married to him. It's not a love match but Patton is determined to make the most of it and believes it will be his happy ending. Unfortunately he gets kidnapped before he can get to the castle.

AO3

***

"You'll never keep me!" Patton threw himself dramatically onto the floor by the bed, folding his arms on the plush mattress and burying his face into it as he sobbed. It wasn't fair! He was supposed to be on his way to the palace to get married to his handsome prince now, not stuck in a cell in this grotty cave system dug into the mountain! Nevermind that he didn't actually love Roman like that or that the cell was really just a very nice room and the cave system was a little bit amazing; it wasn't fair!

His happy ending had been right there.

"Oh do shut up," the guard muttered, rolling their eyes and pulling the door closed with a slam. The sound faded and left Patton alone to his misery, which he duly reveled in for a good hour or two before it got a bit boring.

So he had a look around. What else were you supposed to do when you were kidnapped by evil bandits and possibly a really mega bad guy? Who else had the sort of wherewithal to have an evil lair like this? Had to be a mega bad guy, Patton was sure.

A mega bad guy with interesting taste. The room was cosy and warm, decorated in rich green and purples, dark black metal accenting the place. The bed looked comfortable and there was even an armchair over by a little fireplace; a wall of books; and a messy, heavy iron desk.

In fact it didn't look anything like a cell, and maybe that was worse. Because Patton was engaged to the prince of the kingdom and if this was the room he thought it was then-

"Honey, I'm home," a voice called from through the door, brassy and bright. It made Patton shudder in nervous anticipation, edging far away and grabbing a candlestick to try and defend himself. "Are you decent?"

"Go away! O-or, no, let me go!"

"Which is it?" The voice laughed, as the door handle turned. "Make up your mind now, I don't have all day."

"Let me go!"

There was a sigh and the door finally opened. In walked a stocky man, draped in expensive looking clothes, with shiny brown hair pushed back off his face and an arched eyebrow. "And if I say no? Which I will. It's not like I brought you here just to let you go again, that's a waste of resources and my advisors would complain forever-"

"Who are you?!" Patton squeaked, brandishing the candlestick when the man moved closer. "Stay back! Or I'll…"

"What are you going to do?" He scoffed. "Enlighten me?"

Patton had let out a snort of laughter before he could help himself, and the man grinned. "That wasn't funny!"

"You clearly thought so. A pun fan, then? How about this, you put that down, and I'll shed some light on the situation."

Don't laugh!

Too late. He giggled, and the man's face lit up. Not in the same way as before, triumphant and slightly smug; now it was more open and awed, studying him more intently. Patton schooled his features into a scowl again as quickly as possible but the damage was done. The man moved further into the room, heading over to the armchair and sitting down with a sigh of relief.

"That's better. My feet were killing me. Join me, bring the candlestick if you really want, but just stop hovering, it's very stressful."

"Good!" Patton cried, trying to fold his arms. He had to put the candlestick down to do it, but that was because he wanted to, not because he felt less threatened. It was still within reach on the desk, anyway.

The man made a face and rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself. So you're the provincial prize my brother has been gifted with then, are you?"

Brother. Oh no.

"I, um. N-o?" Patton tried, just in case that would work. From the look he received back it apparently wouldn't. "Well yes, but you make it sound so... unromantic."

Roman's brother cackled, loud enough to make Patton jump and grab the candlestick again, and sharp enough to make his heart beat faster nervously. "Well far be it for me to ruin your little fantasy, but Roman doesn't do romance. I imagine most of this was for appearances only. In fact, that's why you're here."

Patton leaned a little closer.

"I'm proving a point, you see," the man said, sitting forwards as he grew steadily more passionate. "It's all about appearances for him, he never bothered to try and be himself. He kicked me out because he thought that our parents would've wanted him to! Which, I mean they're dead and buried, so why does that even matter?! But no, he's so obsessed with maintaining some ridiculous facade of tradition that he'll even doom some poor peasant-"

"Hey!"

"- to a loveless marriage. Oh, I'm sure he'd be friendly enough, probably very sweet and attentive, but he wouldn't love you, not romantically, and he would hate himself for it and make himself miserable! Who does that?! And forcing you to marry into that without telling you first?! That's too far."

Patton clutched his candlestick, wondering if it was all true. Roman's brother certainly seemed to think so. But if anything it just made him all the more determined to get away, get to Roman and help him.

Why did it feel like this man only wanted the same thing?

"Anyhow. I'll leave you now, I've got to get some sleep, and we'll talk again tomorrow. Oh and Patton?" The man said as he stood up, looking at Patton with an unreadable expression. "Keep the candlestick if you like. It suits you."

"What?"

"Because the stories don't hold a candle to the real you."

With a wink and a wave he was gone, leaving Patton to his blushing confusion. He had so many things to think about.

#writepie #intruality #moduke #ts remus #ts patton #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic

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kbstories · 4 years

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Deconstruction

de·con·struc·tion (n.) The act of breaking something down into its separate parts in order to understand its meaning.

To Trafalgar Law, trust has never come easy.

(Or: Luffy does his thing and Law recovers.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trafalgar Law Needs A Hug, Recovery, Nakamaship, Luffy Being Luffy, Minor Canon Divergence

Set between Dressrosa and Zou but Sanji is there because the author mixed up the canon timeline woops. Content warning for references to suicidal ideation (in the context of Law’s plan).

***

The coffee is good, Trafalgar Law thinks as he follows the wood grain pattern of the Sunny’s dining table with zero interest. His eyes itch like there’s a sandstorm raging between cornea and lid; Law is certain they’re swollen something fierce too, and can’t bring himself to care. Fuck, his head hurts.

Another sip, and Law’s lips twitch into a frown. Scratch that, the coffee is fantastic, and isn’t that another entry on the ridiculously long list of things-to-resent-Luffy-for. Admittedly, this particular dose was administered by Strawhat’s cook. Luffy-by-proxy, then.

Never let it be said that Trafalgar D. Water Law can’t be both a master strategist and a petty asshole.

Cigarette ever-present between his lips, Sanji regards him with something-like-sympathy. The look doesn’t stick around, there and gone while he prepares enough food to be considered a light lunch on the Thousand Sunny, and a veritable feast anywhere else.

Sour mood or not, Law can appreciate the space he’s given. Unlike a certain someone, most Strawhats know to leave him the fuck alone when Law asks for it.

With a porcelain click, a plate is placed next to his half-empty cup of coffee: It carries a colorful assortment of cut fruits and two onigiri, perfectly shaped. The portion is small enough not to challenge the loveless marriage Law has with his appetite, and the glass of water that follows is served sans the usual snide commentary.

So much for that.

Law glowers at Sanji but the cook has already moved on to the dozen other dishes in varying stages of preparation, and to have a staring contest with Sanji’s back would be, well, childish. And unproductive.

The past few weeks – and yes, it’s weeks and not years or decades as his overtaxed nerves will have him believe – have taught Law a great many things. How much he appreciates wonderful concepts like privacy and personal bubbles, for example, and that the Sunny is a parallel universe where those things simply do not exist.

Oh, and also that food is not to be wasted, or else.

Thus, Law doesn't. He eats, and a quiet breath makes it out of his mouth that is only partially the annoyed sigh he intended. Because the food’s fucking delicious, and his stomach decides to stop hating him because it’s his favorite, and the headache that’s been shadowing his every step since he woke up eases just like that. Suddenly, the mother of all emotional hangovers dims and for the first time in hours, Law can think.

Sanji smiles like he knows it, too, the bastard.

Weeks of this bullshit and he’s at his limit, defenses shot, walls badly patched up and crumbling regardless. Law blinks and groans, presses tattooed fingers to closed lids in a desperate bid for the moisture building there to fuck off already.

And he’d thought he’d cried himself into a desert just yesterday. A naïve assumption to make, on a ship populated by sentimental idiots.

“Luffy finally got to you, huh?”

Oh, Law does not want to talk about it. The crux of the problem is that he wasn’t raised among thieves – at least, not entirely – and with the empty plate in front of him and the pleasant tingle of caffeine in his system, politeness dictates some form of reciprocation. Bepo would be oh-so-proud of him, if…

Well. That thought is added to the pile of others he pushes far down to be able to function.

So Law mumbles, “That’s one way to put it”, a fleeting glance over the rim of his cup ensuring that yup, that damnable glint of kindness is back in Sanji's eye and this time it's going nowhere. Law’s shoulders draw up so tight they might as well be made of granite, as rigid and unyielding as he wants to be. Strawhat made quick work of that illusion, too.

“Listen, cook–”

“You really think you’re the only one?” Sanji interrupts him calmly, a statement-turned-question for Law’s sake, and Law shuts up and watches the other smoke for a few, tense seconds.

Tense for him, at least. Sanji looks like he does this every fucking day, leaning against the counter with his back straight and his legs crossed at the ankles and his words piercing past all pretense like he’s the one known to wield swords, not the other way around.

Law just gives him a look. Sanji chuckles and turns his head to blow out the smoke away from him; in return, the doctor spares him the comment about deadly habits that he’s probably heard from Chopper a thousand times anyways.

“Well, you’re not. Luffy pulled that shit with every single other person he’s decided to befriend, so we’re all – pardon the pun – on the same boat here.”

“…Everyone?”

Even Zoro? is the real question here, because Law can imagine pretty much every Strawhat losing it eventually (they’re an overly emotional bunch even on a good day) but somehow his mind blanks at their first mate. And Nico Robin, while he’s at it.

There’s a particular sort of glee in Sanji’s gaze, then. “Everyone. Captain’s a charming little shit, and he hates seeing someone being sad on his ship. With that fucker Mingo gone and”, he gestures casually at Law’s… everything, and Law glares, “it was only a matter of time, really.”

“I see”, Law says but he doesn't, not really. Even after sailing with him, fighting with him, bleeding with him, Luffy remains an enigma and ultimately unpredictable. Law taps a rhythm against the edge of the table, catches himself doing it, stops.

“I don’t know how you stand it.”

What he means is the incessant laughter, the constant interruptions, the Hi Traffy! and What are you doing, Traffy? and Traffy, play with us! and You’re funny, Traffy! – yet all he thinks of are intense brown eyes and a starburst scar and Luffy’s voice, quiet with sudden sincerity:

Don't you know? You deserve to be happy, Law.

Law misses the flippantly dismissive tone he was aiming for by a nautical mile and then some. He winces, looks away with a huff; there’s no way Sanji can miss the rough honesty in Law’s voice, obvious and crimson-red like a target sign, pointing to the parts of his soul left aching and raw.

All Sanji does is shrug as if to say, you get used to it, and he extinguishes his cigarette and picks up the plate and leaves the cup with a pointed look. The cook returns to his craft and just like that, Law is off the hook again.

Oh.

His coffee is cold by now but he finishes it anyway, downing the rest like a shot of liquor. Carefully, Law returns the cup to the counter next to Sanji’s elbow, and his murmur of thanks is accepted with an easy-going smile.

Law’s motivation to step outside and face the day is fractured and hazardously taped together at best. There is no reason to delay it any further: It’s a miracle the galley hasn’t been invaded already, especially with the smell of grilling meat wafting all over deck at this point. Law will take whatever his pitiful sense of luck will grant him.

That is, until he taps his hat in parting, opens the door and promptly stumbles over Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Strawhat Pirates and recently-assigned commander of an extensive fleet, as he loses balance and rolls into the room with a dumbfounded look of surprise on his face. Law stares as it is swiftly replaced by a delighted smile.

“Oh, hey Tra–!”

With a flash of blue and the dull flop of a book on wood, Law disappears.

The sun is dipping towards the horizon and painting everything in vibrant reds and gold when Law decides to stop avoiding Luffy.

It’s a bizarre amalgamation of factors that leads up to it: Nico Robin’s look of mild curiosity as he appears in the library without warning; the fact Law has already dug up and read every book that is even tangentially related to any of his interests (and those that aren’t, too); a rare sense of yearning to feel the wind on his face and to watch the sea as she tosses and turns playfully against the Sunny’s hull–

The sea is out there, however, and so is Luffy, and were his self-control to slip any further, Law would shudder with the nervous energy that tingles in his veins at the thought.

The truth is that Luffy is brilliant. Perhaps not book smart like Law or as mechanically gifted as his shipwright or his sniper – people and emotions, that’s what Strawhat Luffy knows better than anyone, and it’s fucking terrifying. By his own design, Law is more lies and deceit and meticulous strategy than he is a person; it’s what carried him from being a child-beyond-death all the way to Dressrosa, the island-that-would-be-his-grave. It’s the one element that didn’t change in a plan he revised and adapted a million times over the years.

And then Law shambled Luffy out of the air and Luffy smiled at him and they set sail again and there, with all escape routes barricated by endless blue, the man dedicated a whole week of his life to go look for what’s left of Trafalgar Law in the aftermath and just... No.

A real shame that the ally he chose turned out to be allergic to plans. And common sense, and doing things in reasonable amounts, and– He sighs, a tired little noise that is lost to the uncaring backs of countless books.

Yeah, this is getting ridiculous.

Thousand Sunny can rarely be described as quiet by any definition. Stepping out on the quarterdeck, Law is met with the idle cries of sea gulls high above and the fluttering of the gaff sail as it turns to catch a lazy breeze. The sight of a napping swordsman, a sun-bathing model, and a skeleton delicately partaking in afternoon tea with a reindeer really shouldn’t register as anything other than bat-shit insane. He finds himself immediately losing parts of the habitual scowl he keeps on his face, and once again he has to wonder what kind of forbidden magic the Strawhats wield to simply do that.

No matter. With steady hands, Law tucks the tips of his hair under his hat – it’s gotten rather long, without Penguin around to cut it – and makes his way across deck, side-stepping Zoro’s comfortable sprawl with an ease born of practice.

The same ease with which he ignores the mumbled comment of “Fucking finally”, as much as it makes his stomach churn. The notion that everyone on the ship knows is not a comforting one.

Your crew is waiting for you! Are you gonna give up on them, too?!

You don’t know shit about my crew, Strawhat!

Then again, a screaming match between two captains in the small hours of the night can hardly be categorized as ‘stealthy’.

Framed by the sun, Luffy is a proud silhouette atop the figurehead of his ship. His legs are crossed, hands hooked under his shins as if to limit the amount of excited twitching to be done; boundless energy slips through the cracks like the glow of a firefly held between two hands. Law huffs a breath, shakes his head. A botched attempt at holding back but an attempt nonetheless. He can respect that, at least.

The unwritten agreement among the Strawhats is that this spot, it’s Luffy’s and Luffy’s alone. The man claims no other luxury on his own ship – which contains a captain’s cabin, Law checked with the cyborg on that, it’s just that it’s used for storage because Luffy-bro doesn’t like sleeping alone, you know? – and there hasn’t yet been a situation which required contesting that.

Thus, Law hesitates just outside the invisible circle drawn around the Sunny’s wooden mane. And, while there’s little doubt the other can track his approach, he knows he owes him for the tactical retreat earlier in the day.

“Luffy.”

Law’s tone is neutral, expression marginally softened by the clear relief in Luffy’s reply of “Traffy!” that comes with a glance over his shoulder. The grin that follows may be the only predictable thing about the guy, and Law can’t find it in himself to begrudge him for that.

“Come up, come up! I wanna show you something.”

For once, he walks instead of using Room. There’s nothing to replace himself with up there except for Luffy’s hat, and (the expected outcome of his big plan aside) Law doesn’t actually have a death wish. Step by step, Sunny’s head reveals a breathtaking view that only a handful of people have seen: From end to end, the line between sky and ocean disappears in the purple-pink swirls of twilight and a world that stretches on to infinity below their feet. Up here, a universe of possibility is within reach for those courageous enough to try.

No wonder Luffy adores it so much.

Law sits next to him with as much grace as he can muster, one knee pulled close to his chest and disregarding the painful twinge from his side where the nerves of his arm have yet to fully reconnect. His gaze remains on the horizon for a while longer, soaking up the sight befitting of a king.

“So that’s why you’re always up here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! It’s cool, right?” Luffy snickers, patting the polished wood under them like one would a well-behaved dog. Or lion, in this case. “Sunny’s the best. But that’s not it. Look!”

Law throws him a measured glance to see what he means and gets stuck on the scrap of paper cradled in Luffy’s hand with care, inching straight ahead. “Nami says we’re getting close”, Luffy tells him, voice radiating warmth and giddy anticipation in equal shares. “I can't wait to see them all again!”

Bepo (Bear), it says in Law’s own writing, with a miniscule scribble of the Heart Pirates symbol next to it.

“That’s...”

His train of thought is derailed by the sudden longing wrapping around his heart, there and impossible to push aside. Law misses his crew, misses Bepo’s stupid apologies and Ikkaku’s stern reprimands and the hopeless blush Penguin and Shachi share when a woman merely acknowledges their presence. In hindsight, the months without them seem unbearably lonely, bleak and shadowed without the cozy togetherness of his family and the comforting hum of the Polar Tang all around him.

To Law, giving that Vivre Card to the Strawhats was the last bit of reassurance he needed to make his plan a reality – a wordless promise for them to find his crew and tell them it worked, perhaps some final words, if he got lucky enough to utter them. Now, after, it takes all his resolve not to snatch the precious paper away and never let it out of sight ever again.

He snaps himself out of it in time to stay exactly where he is, opening his mouth without the faintest idea where to begin putting it all into words, but by that point Luffy is already showing him his palm, offering Law everything he holds dear without asking anything in return or even a shred of hesitation.

A captain without a crew is sad and lost. Don’t you know? You deserve to be happy, Law.

In that moment, it doesn’t matter how vulnerable and exposed he felt the night before or that Luffy saw– Law takes the Vivre Card back and holds it up to his eyes, barely blinking as the paper wriggles impatiently between his thumb and index, surrounded by the tender colors of dusk.

“I... When? Tomorrow? The day after?”

“Tomorrow”, Luffy nods and it’s the tone he makes promises with, filled with determination and the courage to dream. He leans back on his hands, says, “Told ya we’ll take you home”, the smile on Luffy’s lips now soft with fondness.

It's an unfamiliar comfort, to watch the sun disappear knowing dawn carries with it a brighter future. For the first time in years, excitement bubbles warmly in Law's chest. Humming, he quietly admits, “Yeah, you did.”

Then Law laughs, rusty and a little awkward, and feels freer than he ever has.

#one piece #trafalgar d. law #monkey d. luffy #fanfiction #lawlu #one piece fanfiction #i just want law to be happy.......#this fic is also on AO3!#my stuff

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dafukdidiwatch · 4 years

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Titanic 1997

Alright, I finally caved and watched it.

It could have had a happier ending.

I was against watching this movie for a long time. I didn’t have anything against the plot, it was just I knew how the movie ended.

The boat sinks.

My mentality was, if I knew how the event ended why bother watching? Like, all the movie was going to do was let me see a bunch of people who is just going to die at the end.

Plus, back then I was really against romance movies of any kind. If it was a movie marketed as a romance, I would be super against it. Meaning the entire lure of Jack&Rose was strike two against this film.

Then, it didn’t help that I knew the end and main plot points because of how big Titanic was. (pun unintended but accepted). I knew the song, the motif, the opening shot, specific lines like “Paint me like your French Girls” and “It was called the Ship of Dreams,” “I’m king of the world,” Jack could have fit on the door. Basically, all the best/iconic parts of the movie.

So it felt like, if I knew plot of the film, for something that didn’t really held my interest, in a very sad event, why do I need to really watch it?

Well, I was wrong. And really wrong.

Overview: Treasure Hunters search for a rare necklace that was lost on the Titanic. Soon they discover information from an unlikely source, an old woman named Rose Dawson, who explains her experience of love and lost on the maiden voyage of the Titanic.

I did not realized that the movie opened in present-ish day. I was expecting to just jump right into actual story, so that was a little off-putting. I was against it at first, because they were going for the whole “flashback” route and I wasn’t really into it. But it grew on me, and looking back it was probably the best way to tell this story. It opened on modern day because that was where we are, but we can’t possibly imagine how/what happened on the Titanic unless someone who has been there tells us. It just makes it feel more real that way. I think Rose explains it the best when that one guy was explaining how exactly the Titanic sank to her: living through it was a different experience than just explaining it.

The transitions between old and new are just beautifully done, both in a long emotional transition as everything fades from old to new to old again, and a quick jump for comedic timing. I never really expected this to be a funny movie, but there are a LOT of good jokes throughout. Old Rose is especially hilarious. She is just old and spunky and didn’t give two shits. I hope to be like that someday. .

The supporting characters are good too. Cal the fiancee was a dick and a trash person and oh so wonderful to hate. Fabrizio and Tommy were the fun party guys just there for a good time. We got to see some cool historical characters brought to life like Margret Molly Brown, who is a fun take charge kind of person. Thomas Andrews the ship builder as a kind and thoughtful man who really did care a lot about the people on the ship. They were like two of my favorite people in the movie.

And speaking of historical things, James Cameron did a lot to portray the movie as historically as possible. Not just the big things with the ship and the historical people. There were so many small moments that were historically important and relevant to the sinking that were included. Like the missing binoculars, wanting the ship to go faster, “woman and children first” to “woman and children only.” There is just a lot of respect in trying to make this as accurate as you can.

The romance felt natural, it was a nice slow burn of just trying to open a new world for Rose. Stuck in a shitty and loveless engagement, ending up just talking to a genuinely kind people. Like, Leo was perfect in his role as Jack. I just love his care free attitude and his kind nature to just try to help. Granted, I wished that there was a....Better Way for them to have initially met, but it just pulls you in that you know you want there to be a way for them to work it out.

I’ve also noticed you don’t really see a genderbend version of the trope, the poor but free traveler and the wealthy but trapped socialite having a romance. It’s always a poor boy and rich girl in those specific roles. Just a thought I had while watching.

You know, I never actually heard them really play the song “My Heart Will Go On.” I mean as the full song. I was expecting the lyrics to play at some point at least. Instead it was just a motif in little parts throughout the movie, but at all the romantic parts whenever Jack and Rose were really bonding together. And it also got sad when you hear the music over, you know, the ship about to sink.

God I was freaking crying when Rose jumped back into the ship and Jack and kissing her calling stupid but they just kept kissing! Arg!!!

Also, have you noticed that there were a LOT of hints to Jack dying when the ship sinks? I get catching the lines foreshadowing the ship sinking, but there were a bunch of moments that also point out his own demise. If I didn’t know about Jack’s death already, I probably would have just chalked it up to specifically the ship sinking.

This movie has a terrible habit of getting me attached to side characters only to watch them die. It also has a terrible habit of getting me attached to characters I’ve never even seen before while I was watching them die. Which makes sense, because this movie managed to really capture just how awful and tragic the entire sinking was. We see people panicked, fighting for the boats, silently accepting their fate, trying to survive, and I couldn’t really blame anyone for their decisions. Like, there were a TON of dick moves that people did, but at the same time you KNOW most of them are going to die so you know they are also just trying to survive as best as they could.

Overall: This film has helped me realize that I didn’t really have a problem with romantic movies, just bad romantic comedies. Basically, just watch this film. It is gorgeous in the set designs and shots. It is funny, romantic, thrilling, horrific, historical, kills you in the feels, literally everything that you could/would ever want in a movie. Is it a long ass time? Yes, over 3 hours. Does half of the movie just cover the ship sinking? Also yes, but it was time well spent.

#dafukblog #dafuking films #titanic #titanic 1997 #titanic movie #week 14 movie

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letterstobojack · 4 years

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a letter to bojack & co.

first of all, i'm still mad at you for releasing your final episodes ON MY BIRTHDAY THIS YEAR. (january 31.) but i'm also glad because it gave me something to look forward to in life. so i want to say: thank you. thank you for being the character you were. thank you for your transparency. thank you for your ability to be unashamed about who you are. thank you for showing me (and all of us) your true colors.

thank you for making me feel like i'm not alone.

you reminded me a lot of myself, in different ways. i hated facing my fears and confrontation. (i'm still scared, but i'm working on it one day at a time.) i hate parts of myself stemming from a fucked up, abusive household i grew up in that was loveless. i've never related to multiple characters on a show that basically reflects an inner monologue in my psyche.

thank you for finally holding yourself accountable and giving me hope to do so.

i fucked up a lot. i saw myself in your coping mechanisms; in princess carolyn's emotions and how strongly she feels them; in todd's selflessness and mr. peanutbutter's endless loyalty. i saw myself in your escapism and fear of facing the unknown, and the truth. from the beginning of the first season all the way 'til the very end. i carried you and your friends, your struggles––everything you dealt with. i saw myself in the way you fucked up relationships and how you took them for granted, which forced me to look at myself and my *own* coping mechanisms throughout the seasons as you moved on in life. you helped me get through two close friends' overdoses when sarah lynn died. they happened three months before season 3 dropped. i remember sitting in my room, hysterically sobbing knowing that as painful as it was, nothing could comfort me more than watching you and your own mishaps.

you forced me to grow up as a person, and i could never thank you enough for it. i'm so glad you didn't die. for the longest time, i wanted to do just that: die. escape from the hardships of life knowing that every single action i took was scrutinized by everyone around me; the only difference between you and me is that you're a celebrity. i'm not. i aggressively analyze every word spoken, action taken by the people around me for fear of rejection. my mom's similar to yours but she never had the upbringing she did. decades of unresolved trauma and violence helped me build walls i thought were impenetrable.

but you helped me break them down. you helped me realize that life is worth living after all.

i have bipolar disorder. i've struggled with suicidal thoughts for almost twenty years. (i just turned 28.) i didn't have any hope that things would get better. i was scared of accountability for fear of being reprimanded, judged, punished and truly left alone (the way i thought i was in my head this whole time). i've seen you fuck up royally for the first five seasons, but you're not entirely terrible, bojack. you were deeply misunderstood. i realize you're not dead, but the show is. and i'm glad. because the last season showed me that if you can face your demons, face the consequences of your actions and live, then maybe i can too. i don't feel afraid of being held accountable anymore. i don't feel afraid of people. i don't want to be a people pleaser anymore; that shit gets super exhausting. i'm currently crying while writing this letter, but it's a cathartic cry. the ending was perfect. absolutely perfect. i need to immortalize your show somehow. for my own sake and sanity.

thank you for giving me a reason to keep going. thank you (to the entire staff) for creating a show that resonates with me so deeply that none of these words quantify my admiration for this show. thank you for your brilliant quips, wits, and inspirational words that inspired me to start writing again. thank you for being a source of comfort i can use at night. thank you for depicting some of my deepest, darkest thoughts and secrets while reminding me that it's human nature to err. it's okay to fuck up; we all do. it's not okay to hurt other people, but we're human. we're not perfect. and there's no such thing as perfection. all we can do is try to be good. and to do as best we can every day.

i've re-watched you go through your entire saga at least twice now. you've pulled me through some of the darkest times in my life. you all did. you, princess carolyn, diane, todd, and mr. peanutbutter. i'm glad you were held accountable for the FUCKED UP things you did, but i'm glad things were resolved with everyone. and i'm glad you were brave enough to face the world knowing that you did what you did, and that things will still be okay. i'm not scared of being held accountable anymore. and i'm not scared of going forward anymore.

my relationship with my mom is the same as yours. "free churro" really hit me hard. but i'm so grateful. thank you for reminding me that life is a journey, and that progress is a parabola. sometimes we have to fall down in order to get back up. and i will carry you with me wherever i go. know that the first tattoo i ever get will be related to you. i wish you were real so i could hug you in real life and thank you. so, to the staff: thank you all so much. thank you for upholding accountability and being as brilliant as you are. thank you. thank you. (and THANK YOU FOR ALL THE PUNS AND REFERENCES!!! highly appreciated.) thank you, princess carolyn, for showing that it is okay to let go and let people take care of you and have it be okay. thank you, diane, for showing that it is okay to accept help and highlighting the importance of mental health. thank you, todd, for showing me that it's okay to stand up for myself and that boundaries are essential to growth. thank you, mr. peanutbutter, for always being there no matter what happens. thank you, bojack, for everything you've helped me get through.

thank you.

also, tell mr. peanutbutter we pronounce hosuton street "house-ten" here in nyc.

to quote one of my favorite lyrics of all time: "i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me." ("this year" - the mountain goats)

- kad. nyc.

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