#I just want more authentic and serious sibling moments is that too much to ask for? *talking about a Disney sitcom that ended years ago*

[spikes-got-anger-issues]

Sunday Screenshot:

15:19 of 5x22 "And Then There Were Four"

[thespiralgrimoire]

So just realized that all of the female cast members (and probably some of the male ones) are based on fairytales Grey is Cinderella, Noelle is Snow White, Vanessa is rapunzal, Yuno might be Peter Pan or at least Sylph is tinkerbell

I got an ask similar to this quite a while ago, but it was a little more cumbersome and I wasn't sure how to respond to it....

I think this is an interesting take but personally I think it's a little reductive. There are definitely some similarities between the BC ladies and the Disney princesses, but I think to say that any of them are based on Disney princesses is a disservice to them as characters. While the BC universe is definitely loosely based in a European fantasy setting, I would think that the fact that it's written from a Japanese perspective would mean that the similarities to our classic Western fairytails can't be taken for granted.

HOWEVER, there is also the point to be made that the Disney Princess stories are based in tropes that show up in a LOT of traditions and stories, so maybe it would be more accurate to say that these characters' stories contain a lot of the same elements that appear in folklore all around the world?

That being said, I think it's fun to play with what we know, and I don't know a lot of Japanese fairytales. So let's take a look at some of the ones you listed, because I spent $75,000 on a Bachelor's degree in English literature and I don't get to use it much.

☘️ Of all of these, Grey is DEFINITELY the most obvious one. Like, it’s every element of Cinderella... The step sisters, the mistreatment, the false identity. But I think that’s is very important how it differs from the classic tale to play on Grey’s sense of self.

The classic Cinderella story doesn’t paint Cinderella as a self pitying damsel who needs to be rescued. She is upset with her situation, she knows it’s not fair, and she knows she’s entitled to a nice night out, especially after she puts in the work in to make an outfit appropriate for the occasion. Her step sisters’ vindictive nature ruins this for her, not any fault of her own, which is why her fairy godmother steps in to right the wrongs of her situation.

Grey doesn’t have the sense of self that Cinderella has. Be it through abuse or quirks of her own personality, she’s a rather passive victim to her step sisters’ bullying, and instead of doing what she does despite of them like Cinderella, she does everything she can to please them. The ending result is more or less the same: they can’t be pleased. In both cases the step sisters retaliate violently: in Cinderella’s case, they destroy the dress she’s made for herself, and in Grey’s case, they drive Grey into the woods, taking her attempt to please them as a personal insult.

Grey gets no fairy godmother, and no ball. And unlike Cinderella, she gets rescued by a “prince” character (as much as I loathe to call Gauche that, but an analogy does exist there, so let’s acknowledge it.) Gauche saves Grey in the literal sense, and he also gives her the courage to better her situation, which eventually leads her to develop a sense of self that is not “her step family’s doormat.” She varies from Cinderella in this way because Cinderella never had to make this personal jump in her narrative; she started her narrative already there. Whereas Grey was desperately trying to become something that someone would respect, Cinderella knew from the start that she was worthy of more than the world had given her.

But the nice thing about Grey’s narrative is that she IS working to be this person! She’s got to put in the work to get to where Cinderella is, but who knows? Maybe by the time she isn’t afraid to be her authentic self, she’ll get some help from an exterior source (a metaphorical fairy godmother character) or maybe that power will come from within (with this new magic she’s using to save Gauche?). If we stick with the fairytale princess narrative, her reward would be Gauche. Just like Cinderella was rewarded for her strength during an adverse time in her life, Grey will be rewarded for overcoming her insecurities.

☘️ I... gotta come clean here, I read “Snow White” but my brain went “Sleeping Beauty”, and I was all ready to talk about THAT fascinating analogy. So apologies if this one is a little lackluster while I get my fairytales straight.

I think this one is a little flimsy, but again, I prepared to talk about the wrong fairytale. Would we paint Magicula as the evil queen, wanting Noelle dead because she’s “fairer”? Or would her siblings be an abstract reading of the “evil queen” because Noelle looks too much like their mother, and therefore is the bane of their existance, like Snow White was for the evil queen? The Black Bulls as the seven dwarves is the one part of this I’m really digging, because it’s hilarious. But I think this one is a hard sell. Noelle has failed to be a victim to any serious threat for more than a few minutes because she’s always surrounded by people who fight tooth and nail for her, and she’s fighting every second to be stronger. Of course, that furthers the “Black bulls = seven dwarves” thing, which is just. So great. Snow White never had to do anything but housework. She doesn’t get stronger because strength was never a part of her equation.

☘️ Vanessa as Rapuzal is eh. She’s a classic princess trapped in a castle, but she’s the second one of those in the series (Charlotte being the other). In both cases, Yami saves them with a strange mix accidental concern and casual heroism. I think this says more about Yami as an accidental prince charming than it does about either of them as Disney princesses.

I haven’t seen Tangled, but from what I’ve gathered, there’s an analogy to be made here between Vanessa and Tangled Rapunzal being trapped by their mothers under the guise of caring for them. Hell yeah, can’t deny that connection! But it’s far from a sign of a fairytale princess. It’s just shitty parenting. Unfortunately, it’s rampant across all cultures, and therefore appears in all forms of media.

Charlotte’s case is, I believe, supposed to be a parody of a “strong independent woman” (which is a big problem I have with how she’s written but that’s a different conversation). There very well could be a specific fairytale that fits Charlotte’s case (Sh. Shrek?) but I think it’s meant to be more of a parody of the false persona she puts out than anything else.

Yami is really the one to look at here, since it’s not a coincidence that he’s rescued TWO of these fairytale-princess-knockoffs over the course of the story, and they both have unrequited crushes on him (although Vanessa’s is mostly for show). While Charlotte is a parody of a strong independent princess, Yami is a parody of Prince Charming. He doesn’t want the role, he didn’t ask for the role, he’s not looking for the role... He’s just doing what he’s doing and if he happens to rescue some ladies in peril, it’s just part of his day of wandering around busting through walls like the Koolaid man. That’s not a jab at Yami’s character. It doesn’t mean that he’s not a hero. Yami’s whole shtick is that you don’t have to be a conventionally handsome dude in a cape with a winning smile to be a hero. That’s the mantra he’s built the Black Bulls around. His whole character is a counterpoint to the traditional hero stereotype with Fuegoleon (and to a lesser degree, Nozel) as the point he’s countering.

Yami and the Black Bulls exist to make the point that there is more than one way to be right, to be strong, to be brave, to be heroic. You don’t have to look, act, think, or feel a certain way to be on the right side of things.

☘️ Okay so Yuno as Peter Pan is the one I’ve really been chomping at the bit to talk about because while I don’t think you’re right, I can’t decide if you’re wrong???

I don’t know what other stories and traditions could influence Bell’s design, so based on what I know, she’s a dead ringer for Tinkerbell. Moving past that.

Yuno as Peter Pan has me WILDING because he’s literally the host for an unborn baby. I don’t know how much harder you can drill in the “Never grow up” theme.

Does it really hold up past that though? I kind of want it to, just because the very premise of Yuno as Licht’s baby screams it so hard. But I don’t think it does.Which is a shame, because it could.

Yuno was a crybaby as a kid, which is a very infantile trait, but when he and Asta made their pact to be the wizard king, he went the opposite direction of “never grow up” and rapidly matured in order to accomplish this dream. We don’t really know how else Yuno may have changed besides “he doesn’t cry anymore”, but from the way he acts and the way he’s treated at the orphanage, it seems to me that a lot was placed on him. And that carries into his magic knight career. Because of his talent and his resolve, he was made to face some very adult problems at a very young age.

Major manga spoilers ahead!

This carries into the current events we’re seeing, too. There is no semblance of “never grow up” in the way that Yuno acts or is being treated as a member of the Golden Dawn. He’s the vice captain at... what, 16? 17? and he’s just found out that he’s also the next heir of a kingdom that he does not call his home-- that’s he’s considered the enemy for his entire career. Then he’s forced to handle the violent deaths of half his squad, the severe injury of the other half, and the kidnapping of his captain, which leaves him in charge. We see him give a big old holler about all this, but I what’s really interesting to me is that he doesn’t cry. The most infantile part of his identity, which he abandoned to get where he is now, does not come back to him in a moment of weakness, at a time where he very much has every write to feel like a helpless child. Whether he wants to or not, Yuno is no longer allowed to be a child, and he will never get the opportunity to be one again.

I guess you could say that this may mean that we’ll see him want to be Peter Pan, that he’ll grow nostalgic for the days where everything was simpler and he had the time to cry, the freedom to be scared and confused and feel sorry for himself. I would love to see that explored in his character, but I really don’t think that we’ll see it happen. In both the meta and the story universe, there’s no time for Yuno to have that breakdown and regression. It wouldn’t fit the pacing and Yuno’s got shit to do. Yuno isn’t Peter Pan. He’s lost the chance to be.

So in conclusion, I can see why a lot of people want to assign fairytale roles to characters in Black Clover, and I do think that the creators play with the concept themselves, but I think to boil any of the Black Clover characters down to a single character or fit them into a single fairytale is a disservice to the characters themselves, and overlooks everything else going on with them. None of the black clover characters are “based” on a fairytale character. Their stories may take inspiration from them, but there is far more going on with each and every one of them to ever take such similarities at face value.

[new-sandrafilter]

True Romance: Saoirse Ronan and Timothée Chalamet on reuniting for Little Women

They may be posing in an airy lower Manhattan studio, but Timothée Chalamet and Saoirse Ronan have a way of making you feel right at home. “I made a little playlist this morning,” Chalamet announces to the room. He syncs up his cell phone to the sound system, his boyish grin widening as Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” starts blaring. He returns to the camera, which snaps him and Ronan at a furious pace.

It’s their first joint cover shoot. He’s wearing a shimmery striped shirt with high-waist trousers; she’s rocking a shirtdress, fishnet stockings, and clear stilettos. He keeps cracking her up; she musses his hair with doting affection. During a break that follows, he wanders, gripping a paper bag stuffed with assorted bagels — from Tompkins Square Bagels, which Chalamet, a lifelong New Yorker, insists are the best in the city — and offering one to anyone in his path. He sings and dances — very Elio-in-the-town-square-like — to Bob Dylan’s “Tombstone Blues.” He creeps behind a distracted Ronan before spooking her with a yelp. “I didn’t even know you were there!” she exclaims, reddening from the fright but with a smile so lovingly at ease, you sense she’s used to the prank.

They’ve known each other, after all, for some time. About three years ago, Ronan, now 25, and Chalamet, 23, met filming Lady Bird, Greta Gerwig’s solo directorial debut, in which Ronan’s irrepressible heroine (briefly) romances Chalamet’s douchey amateur musician. They reunited with Gerwig last year, on the heels of Lady Bird’s Oscar-nominated success, for a bigger undertaking: a remake of the oft-remade Little Women (Dec. 25). Ronan and Chalamet slipped into the roles of tomboyish Jo March and buoyant Theodore “Laurie” Laurence, best friends who ultimately break each other’s hearts. Their courtship ranks among American culture’s oldest tales of unrequited love — made indelible by Katharine Hepburn and Douglass Montgomery, Winona Ryder and Christian Bale, and so many others — yet finds, in the hands of two of the most compelling actors of their generation, galvanizing new life.

That goes, in fact, for the whole of Gerwig’s Little Women. Her version certainly contains the snow-globe coziness of treasured adaptations past, but also carries a fizzy emotional authenticity and attention to detail. The film is remarkably lived-in, too: This take on Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel, which follows Jo and her three sisters pre– and post–American Civil War, feels plucked straight from the text in the best way, with siblings fighting like siblings, love and loss and hope and pain vividly experienced on screen.

Ronan and Chalamet’s charming big sister–little brother dynamic is not unlike the one that Jo and Laurie share in Little Women. Watch the actors play off one another, and the film’s tender realism clarifies itself: Their on-camera intimacy is just as palpable behind the scenes. Indeed, after shooting Lady Bird for a few weeks, the pair hung out regularly over the next year, making the awards-circuit rounds and scoring lead-acting Oscar nominations — Ronan for Lady Bird, Chalamet for Call Me by Your Name — before swiftly signing on to Little Women. In advance of filming in Concord, Mass. (the actual setting of the book), Gerwig and producer Amy Pascal gathered the large production’s cast and crew for rehearsals at a house just outside the town. For Ronan and Chalamet, the contrast between this and their early Lady Bird days was immense. “I felt very prideful… about how big it had gotten, how many people were there,” Chalamet recounts. “On Lady Bird it was, like, 25 people hanging out in a house!”

They fell back into each other’s rhythms instantly. “He keeps me on my toes — I’m never quite sure what he’s going to do next,” Ronan says. “That only progressed more and grew more. It helped that we do have a very natural rapport with each other…. These two characters physically need to be very comfortable with one another. They’re literally intertwined for half the film.” Chalamet adds: “In the least clichéd way possible, it really doesn’t feel like [I’m] acting sometimes [with her].”

Chalamet credits Gerwig, too, for establishing a playful, comfortable atmosphere. He thinks back to his first day of rehearsal: He reunited with Ronan. He introduced himself to Emma Watson (who plays the eldest March sister, Meg). He was guided into a third-floor conference room of a “random building” where, “all of a sudden, there was a full dance class going on.” He recalls fondly: “Everyone breaks down and becomes a little kid. This job is so trippy in that regard — you want to be serious, you want to be professional, and then it’s almost best when you’re able to be 12 years old. When it’s someone you’re actually friends with, it makes it easier.”

Ronan smirks, gearing up for a jab: “We’re not friends!” Delighted, Chalamet keeps the bit going. “We’re not friends,” he says, solemnly. For once, they’re not very convincing.

Greta Gerwig doesn’t remember a time before she knew Jo March. “[Little Women] was very much part of who I always was,” the writer-director, 36, says. “It was something my mother read to me when I was growing up. It’s been with me for a very long time.”

She joined Sony Pictures’ new Little Women adaptation when she was hired to write the script in 2016. Once Lady Bird bowed the next year, she emerged as a candidate to direct the film. “Greta had a very specific, energized, kind of punk-rock, Shakespearean take on this story,” Pascal says. “She came in and had a meeting with all of us and said, ‘I know this has been done before, but nobody can do it but me.’” She got the gig.

In her approach, Gerwig drew on her lifelong relationship with Little Women; beyond childhood, she discovered new, complex layers to the novel, and in turn to Alcott’s legacy. “As a girl, my heroine was Jo March, and as a grown lady, my heroine is Louisa May Alcott,” she says. It’s perhaps why Gerwig’s Little Women feels like the most adult — and modern — version of the story that’s reached the screen to date. The movie begins with the March sisters in adulthood — typically where the narrative’s second half begins — and unfolds like a memory play, shifting back and forth between that present-day frame and extended flashbacks to the childhood scenes etched in the American literary canon.

In that, Gerwig finds fascinating, fresh areas of exploration regarding women’s lives: the choices society forces them to make, the beauty and struggles of artistic pursuit, the consequences of rebellion. Jo’s journey as a writer anchors Gerwig’s direction; tempestuous Amy (Florence Pugh) gets more of a spotlight as she matures as a painter (and Laurie’s eventual wife); and Meg is realized with newfound nuance: “We felt it was important to show Meg juggling all her roles — a mother, a wife, a sister — whilst also celebrating her dreams, despite them being different to those of her sisters,” says Watson. But Gerwig doesn’t see herself as reinventing the wheel. “A lot of the lines in the film are taken right from the book,” she explains. “When Amy says, ‘I want to be great or nothing’ — she says that in the book! I don’t think we remember that, but she does say it.” Gerwig also loves one line spoken by the sisters’ mother, Marmee (Laura Dern), also revived in this version: “I’m angry almost every single day.”

Gerwig compiled a “bible” filled with cultural references: to Whistler tableaux of family life, to David Bowie–Jean Seberg hairdos that inspire the look of Jo’s mid-film cut, to Alcott family letters. “I wanted it to be footnote-able,” Gerwig says. “I wanted to point to it and say, ‘This is where this is from.’” She considers Alcott’s text sacred: “I wanted to treat the text as something that could be made fresh by great acting.”

Beyond those charged but less quoted Little Women lines are its famous ones — throw-pillow staples like Jo’s “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” that no adaptation is complete without. The actors rehearsed these “almost like a song,” pushing to move through them with a rapid musicality. “We [read] the book out loud,” says Dern. Gerwig expected the script’s words to be memorized precisely. “I knew I wanted them to get this cadence that felt sparkly and slightly irreverent,” she says. “I wanted to make them move at the speed of light.”

She poured the same love into iconic scenes, like Jo and Laurie’s ebullient dance that follows their first meeting. Here it goes on longer — and more vibrantly — than in any previous iteration. (Ronan says they filmed it at 3 a.m., to boot, adding, “We must have done it, like, 30 times.”) Then there’s the devastating moment when Laurie asks Jo to marry him and she rejects his proposal. Gerwig tasked the two actors to unleash here. “Emotions just bubble over,” Ronan says. “[Greta] just let us go with it, wherever it went, from take to take. What I loved about that scene is that every take would be different emotionally. It didn’t have the same trajectory.

“The two of us, it’s a relationship I have with no other director,” Ronan continues. “She makes me feel like I can try anything.”

As Ronan and Chalamet emerge from their photo-studio dressing area in impossibly chic new ensembles — she donning a form-fitting knit sweater, he a silky, ruffled top — their creative energy fills the space. They try out different poses, debating concepts and ideas with each other on the fly; at one point he wraps his arms around her waist, and she quips to no one in particular, “We’re expecting our first.” Camera snap.

They’re modeling a new brand of movie stardom — pursuing projects with a point of view, adamantly being themselves in the public eye, subverting gender norms. Their androgynous fashion performance here reflects their wardrobe shake-ups in Little Women: Gerwig and Oscar-winning costumer Jacqueline Durran (Anna Karenina) had the two actors swapping clothes throughout filming, to reinforce the masculine-feminine fluidity between Jo and Laurie. “They are two halves,” as Pascal puts it. “These are really bold characters that are really different than you’ve seen them before.”

And just as Gerwig expressed a need to direct Little Women, Ronan knew in her bones she needed to play Jo. She’d first encountered the story via the 1994 film when she was 11, and later read the book, feeling an immediate kinship with the young woman she’d come to portray. “When Louisa describes Jo, it felt like someone describing me physically: sort of gangly and stubborn and very straightforward, and went for what she wanted.” At an event for Lady Bird, she — in a very Jo kind of way — just “went at it” by approaching Gerwig. “I said, ‘So I want to be in Little Women, but only if I’m playing Jo.’” (Chalamet, for his part, was asked by Gerwig, “Hey, want to do another movie?” He responded: “Yes. Yes, please.”)

Over months of living in Concord with her castmates, Ronan discovered new depths within herself: “Jo’s ethos is ‘Everything everyone else is doing, I’m going to do the opposite.’ [I had] to try things that I’d never tried before. Be a bit messier with a performance.” Gerwig set up etiquette lessons for the cast; whatever the instructor said (“Don’t shake hands! Don’t gesticulate with your arms!”), Ronan made sure to ignore it. She speaks now of this as freeing, even transformative. “I felt like I had tapped into something I’d never gotten the opportunity to tap into before, or I just didn’t have the guts to tap into myself,” she says. “Finding that was just amazing.”

Shortly after wrapping Little Women, she filmed Wes Anderson’s next film, The French Dispatch — marking her third time costarring with Chalamet, who plays a central role. As for now? Ronan is taking a little break. “I’ll wait for the right thing to come along,” she says. “It’s lovely to be in a position at this moment where I can wait for the absolute right thing.” Same goes for Chalamet — he shot Netflix’s The King (out Oct. 11) right before Little Women and just completed production on Denis Villeneuve’s Dune adaptation. “It’s the first time in almost two years I’ve gotten a breath, so I’m savoring it.”

It’s been a long day. They’re back in comfy clothes; Ronan is taking a late lunch. It feels like both actors — as another whirlwind of acclaim and press and romance-shipping awaits — are at a kind of peace, exhausted but satisfyingly so. Little Women is the biggest movie either has done to date; more attention, as they inhabit such revered characters, is sure to follow. “I just haven’t thought about it that way,” Ronan admits. “Maybe because it’s just Greta — even though it’s on a much bigger scale, she wanted it to feel like Lady Bird.”

Ronan understands the timeless power of Little Women, of course: “It’s as important to tell Little Women right now as it would be at any point in our lifetime.” She points to this pop culture climate of “celebrating female friendships and sisterhood,” and continues, “It’s a story that’s full of love. That will always be relevant.”

She turns toward Chalamet, and you realize the love they brought to Alcott’s classic is what first blossomed between them on Lady Bird. “I love that in Lady Bird, you broke my heart,” she says to him softly. “In Little Women, I got to break your heart.” (Chalamet, ever the goofball, finds an obvious opening: “Yes, that’s true. Then I married your sister. Ha, ha, ha!”)

If this all sounds a little idyllic, well, neither actor — nor Gerwig, nor Pascal, nor the rest of the cast — can do much to convince you otherwise. Shifting back to Little Women’s timelessness, and reflecting on Ronan’s comments about it, Chalamet says, “I don’t know how to add to that.” Instead he turns back to his costar, his expression suddenly sincere, filled with gratitude. “But if I can add one little dose of information,” he says with a nervous laugh. “And not just because she’s sitting next to me.” He credits Ronan with bringing that “timeless energy.” He says “thank God” they were able to make the movie. “It’s so rare with Saoirse — I’m so f—ing grateful to get to work with her,” he says. “Whatever book I write for myself when I’m older, to look back on —” He stops himself. “Well, this is a bigger conversation.”

But Ronan, chuckling, doesn’t let him off the hook. “Will I have, like, a chapter?” And Chalamet laughs — another opening, another chance to act with his greatest scene partner, to see what journey of creation and discovery they’ll go on next. “A chapter of Saoirse,” he says.

At this rate, one chapter won’t suffice.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #282

“daddy’s flown across the ocean / leaving just a memory / a snapshot in the family album / daddy, what’d you leave behind for me?”

What is your favorite type of dance? I like modern dances, especially those unusual or creepy with unique music. They’re the dances I look forward to watching in dance competitions. Do you find making scenes in public fun? Oh fuck no. Lemonade or pink lemonade? Pink is Supreme in so many ways. Where do you feel safest? At home, especially if Mom is here. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I’d love to. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? No. I don’t want to move to Africa. What do you like to do when you're home alone? HAHA okay so I almost exclusively watch Unus Annus when Mom isn’t home because I will almost without a doubt cackle at least once, and… explaining why I’d be laughing would be WILD. UA is a fucking gift & I’mma miss it when it’s gone. What kind of music calms you down? My best bet is nostalgic music that I hold very close, like Ozzy. The soundtracks to SotC and SH2 are also magical when it comes to soothing me. Who did you last go to a park with? Uhhhh… probably not since I took family pictures for someone. Got some nice ones. Have you ever been robbed? Thankfully, no. Are you working, a student, both, or neither? Neither, and at nearly 25, it’s fucking humiliating. I’m thinking of appealing my disability case (you very rarely get it the first time), but of course self-doubt and anxiety just slaps me across the face again and again by asking, “Do you really need it?” That shit is agonizing. Very highly regarded people in my life agree that it’s realistic for me, at least at this moment, while I sort out my mental health. I don’t plan on being on it forever, fuck no. But right now I am, no matter what anyone says, a leech in my home. What's your favorite holiday? Christmas. I prefer Halloween’s “vibe,” of course, but I am much more excited and just thankful at Christmastime, especially now as an aunt with children who *understand* the holiday. Their joy and excitement is enough of a gift to me. It’s always really hard on Mom because she’s convinced she doesn’t do enough (she cries at least once like… every year), but my sisters and I always reassure her. It’s also a nice opportunity to see Dad and my stepmom, also with my sister’s family, and once again we get to see the kids so happy. But enough about them; what I love most about Christmas is I generally am able to put my troubles into perspective and take the time to remember I am, in the big picture, lucky to have what and who I do. And SNOW!!!!! If you can’t tell I’m stoked for Christmas. Do you prefer male or female friends? Both are great, but I’m more relaxed with female friends because of the whole “scared of men” ordeal. What's your favorite dessert? Biiiiihhhhh lemme get my hands on ice cream. Do you ever go on chatroulette or omegle? Noooo, I never did. That shit creeps me out. Besides, I’m shy. What kind of tea do you drink? None. Do you know anyone in a gang? Not to my knowledge… What color is your fridge? White. We decided to use the fridge already in this house versus our old one. Is your phone mostly on vibrate, silent, or ringtone? It’s just about always on vibrate. Do you own black sunglasses? I don’t own any sunglasses. Are you currently looking for a job? Fuck if I know. Not actively, but if something suitable magically popped up, I’d definitely pursue it. Do you watch MTV? No. Do you like to tell people who you like? Historically, I tend to keep my mouth shut about it to people who know that love interest unless explicitly asked, and even then, it depends on if I think they’ll keep their mouth shut. How often do you braid your hair? It’s too short to be braided. I very rarely had it braided beforehand. What color is your microwave? Black. Do you wash your face in the morning when you wake up? If I remember, especially if I’m groggy. Are you interested in the ocean? No more or no less than the average person. What's a big turn on for you? Keeping physical stuff outta this, I’m just such a fuckin sucker for being authentically romantic lmao. Have you ever thought about being a teacher? Heeeeeelllllll no. What's the first thing you do when you turn your computer on? Close out of the stuff that automatically pops up after it starts. Do you drink Gatorade? Ugh, ew, no. Do you hate when people replace 0's with O's? EX: 9:OO AM. Lol no, it’s honestly aesthetically pleasing in some formats. Did you hate riding the bus? Some of my best school memories are the long bus rides home w/ Jason so uh- Do you ever use XOXO in texts, letters etc..? Nah. Has anyone ever told you they liked you to your face? Yeah. Have you ever touched an elephant? No. Reading or writing? Writing. Do you have a childhood nickname? Mom called (and sometimes still does lakjdf;alkwe) me “Twinkie.” She gave sweets-oriented nicknames to all her kids. Have you ever had a Moon Pie? UGH they’re gross. I have this faint memory as a kid of a sweetheart babysitter my sisters and I had always offering us banana moon pies as a snack or dessert, idr. I’ve always hated anything banana-flavored. Has your car ever had troubles? N/A What's your birthstone? Amethyst. Would you join the navy? I want nothing to do with anything remotely related to war. What's your favorite board game? Battleship. Do you like chess? I’ve never played it nor even know the rules. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I was absolutely parched after a long, sweaty walk and was offered it to “try” by my mom without me knowing it was alcohol… the “WAIT NO STOP” from everyone was so quick lmao. It was just hard lemonade, so nothing super serious. Do you think you could ever have an abortion if you unexpectantly turned up pregnant right this second? I probably would. There is no fucking way I can emotionally handle carrying a baby right now. But I’d feel like absolute shit, even though I’m pro-choice. I just don’t want to picture myself in that situation. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? Probably. Although generally, I’m very resilient to peer pressure when it comes to something I really don’t want to do. What is your favorite video game console? Why? PS2, of course. I think the best games came from that era, many ahead of their time. Example, the original Shadow of the Colossus graphics massively pressured the limits of the software, and it still to this day blows me away. Sure, you have some lag in return, but the end result was just magnificent. I seriously, seriously, seriously hope I’m able to play the remake one day. When you lost your virginity, were you sober? I was. As of this minute, what is going through your mind? How I need a change and purpose in life so motherfucking badly. Where’s the last place you went? I was riding around with Mom, doing some errands. Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yes. When was the last time you went apple picking? Never. Do you have a good relationship with your cousins? We don’t really… have a relationship. We don’t talk, we just kinda “exist” knowing we’re related. What was the last kids movie you saw? I watched some of Hotel Transylvania 3 with my niece and nephew. Do you know anyone who was born in Africa? When I was still in college, there was at least one guy in my class who was. Tutored me in math. Patience of a saint, haha. Have you ever been to an internet cafe? I actually have zero clue what that is. Has the year gone quickly for you so far? I’ve barely discerned 2018-2020, if I’m being honest with you. It’s just a lump of time where I’ve done jack-all. I mean yeah, school fits in there somewhere, but mentally I wasn’t in a wonderful place and haven’t been “happy” for a long time. My mental state has been the same for a few years. How many siblings does your significant other have? N/A Are you one of those people who can drink vodka straight? Oh, I hiiiighly doubt it. I loathe the taste of alcohol. Do you share a middle name with any of your friends? I legitimately have one of the most basic white bitch middle names in America, I know tons. How many pairs of jeans do you own? None. Do you know the name of the pharmacist at your local drug store? One, yes, considering Mom worked there before the cancer and is still in touch with this pharmacist. What flavor is your toothpaste? Mint. Are you sleepy right now? I think I’m permanently sleepy. Do you like crime films and tv shows? Not especially. Are you bitter about anything? Many things. What was the first online account you remember having? Neopets. My older sister helped me set it up when I was somewhere around eight. Do you use emojis? More than I used to. I’m gradually converting from emoticons to emojis, oof. What was the last type of soda you drank? Mountain Dew. Do you remember much from high school? I probably remember too much from high school, if I’m being honest. I remember far too much in far too much detail during the almost four years I dated Jason. Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? Probably the Bahamas, mostly for the pink beaches, aha. It would also be an incredible photography opportunity. Do you know anyone who has a strong accent that is hard to understand? My former best friend’s dad was so southern that yes, I could barely understand him whatsoever. If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? If you mean a fresh, new one and not a glow-up on the Mark tribute tat I’ve mentioned five thousand times, a tribute to Teddy featuring his portrait, pawprint, and the Powerwolf lyrics “and we’ll meet where the wild wolves have gone.” I’m going to be picky as a motherfucker about the design itself, though, so realistically it probably wouldn’t be tomorrow since I’d probably commission people to draw in varying styles. Ugh, I need that tattoo gun, my man. What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? That would be 4 Peens in a Pod (it’s… not a porn I swear, it’s Fischfuck and the boys lmao). I’m waaaaaaaaaaay behind on it, though. I watch so many different things now that I’m behind on like… everything I watch/listen to. Are you on a first-name basis with your boss? (or last boss if unemployed) I think I was with all of them? What was the last thing you wrote in a Word document? This survey. Because I combine short ones into Big Boys that I usually don’t finish in one go, I save my progress on it. Who do you miss and what do you miss about them? I miss a number of people and would rather not retrospect on them. What were the best and worst costumes you’ve ever worn? *shrug* Do you know anybody who is gay and married? I think so. What did you last take painkillers for? A headache. Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? Ugh. A whole fucking lot. I’ve thought quite a bit recently on how I miss video editing, but I just don’t have the motivation and dedication for that anymore. Have you ever shared a home with a friend? Yes. What’s the craziest or weirdest place you’ve ever slept? Nowhere that strange at all… Probably just like, the floor, but even then with blankets and stuff. What did you have for lunch today and who made it? I haven't had lunch yet. Are you allergic to anything? How did you find out? Pollen is pretty obvious, while serious discoloring and itching let me know I was allergic to silver. Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Yeah, I was visiting her for a couple weeks. It was nice. Who was the last very physically attractive person you saw? In ~real life~, probably some friend on Facebook. Do you know anyone who is deaf? We recently found out actually that my youngest niece is deaf in her left ear due to a massive buildup of fluid in it. I’m so ready to hear about her reaction to hearing normally once it’s taken care of. Has there ever been a person you regret ever being friends with? Probably at some point. “Ever” makes this question difficult. Do you think you have a good understanding on love? Yes. What do you think of your parent(s)? I love them both immensely while acknowledging their flaws. What celebrity do you think should of never become famous? I don’t care enough to think on this honestly haha. Did you ever get into the Twilight saga craze? What about the Harry Potter craze? Neither. What's your opinion about Katy Perry's song "I Kissed a Girl"? It was bold for its time, for sure. I’ve never minded it. Actually since coming out as bi I’ve known that this song has to be included in the recession dances of my wedding if my partner is female lmao. Do you believe in heaven? If so, what's it like? If not, why? I hope there’s some sort of total bliss after death if you’re deserving of such, but I don’t know. I definitely don’t know how I actually picture it. Even if there’s not, well, I’m assuming I just won’t exist anymore, so I wouldn’t be able to care anyway. Sometimes I hope that's the case. What email service do you use for your main (or only) email account? Hotmail. Did you ever believe in the Tooth Fairy? Yeah. I remember there was one time where “she” didn’t trade my tooth for munz and I was so mad lmao. Mom apparently forgot and slipped something under the pillow while I was getting ready for school. How I fell for it, who knows man, kids are wild. How do you feel about Taco Bell? I’m not a Mexican food fan, really, but I do love their cheese (with or without chicken) quite a bit. The cinnamon bite things are bomb as FUCK, too. I’m still mad tilted they took potato products off their menu tho because I used to destroy the fiesta potatoes. How often do you go on to YouTube? I’m like… always on it. Not focusing on it at all times, but something’s in the background. Back when Spongebob Squarepants was famous, were you interested in it? Well of course, man. What's your dream pet? Ugggghhhh a sunset morph ball python, probably. Buuut I’ve seen some over $2k with their rarity. More realistically, I really, really want a Brazilian Black tarantula. And an arctic morph hognose. I want a lot of pets. ;_; Who's been your favorite teacher growing up, and why? God, I have a lot, honestly. All things considered, the answer is probably Miss Tobey, who was my physical science teacher in high school. She’s an extremely close family friend now involved regularly in my family’s lives. She can be… difficult and says shit before thinking, but we love her nevertheless. What's your favorite fairy tale? Fuck outta here if you say Shrek isn’t one. Do you have a favorite pen? Uh, no… I barely ever use pens anyway. Has a child ever asked you a question you found difficult to answer? Yeah; it happens sometimes with my niece and nephew. Name five books you've read in the past year. I think I’ve read the first three Wings of Fire book within the same year, and I’m currently on the forth. Other than those, I started The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but only got through the prologue I think before my focus shifted onto WoF. I still plan on reading it at some point, though. ^Are any of those books your favorite? No. The prequel to The Testaments, The Handmaid’s Tale, is very high up there, though. Are you a person that enjoys re-reading books? Not at all. Once I read it once, I’m done. There are VERY few books I’ve reread, and most of those were children’s books from when I was little. Do you have a favorite talk show host? Don’t watch any. Which sounds the most refreshing: a hot shower or a cold one? I prefer hot showers unless I seeeeeriously need to cool down. Have you ever made your own soap? No. Can you sleep with socks on? UGH NO. When was the last time you were pissed beyond belief and why? Ummm good question. I don’t know about *that* mad. Maybe when Ashley’s mother-in-law shared a massively homophobic article that condoned conversion therapy on Facebook that resulted in me removing her from my friends and RAGING to my mom about it. That was forever ago, though. Do you have a favorite candle brand? No. What is your opinion on taxidermy? I have… very mixed feelings. If the animal was hunted for sport, then it’s fuckin disgusting; you literally killed an animal with the intention to show off the fact you’re a goddamn murderer. On the other hand, taxidermy of naturally-deceased animals can be educational, and even… artistic sometimes? I don’t know. I can’t really pick one stance over the other. Would you ever want to own a body part in a jar? Actually, yes, particularly of fetal animals (that WERE NOT killed for the sake of displaying), but for the same reasons above, I’m not sure if I would *really* do it. They are incredibly interesting to me, more so than taxidermy probably, but yeah, I still question the morality of it. What is the worst thing you have ever done to your own hair? I don’t think I’ve ever really done a “bad” thing to my hair. What qualities of yours do you think could potentially harm a relationship? I’m very clingy and, in the beginning, very paranoid that you’re going to leave. Have any of your childhood habits carried over into adolescence/adulthood? I had AWFUL separation anxiety from my mom for a very long time as a kid, and I guess that evolved into my extreme inability to handle loss well, maybe. I’d say they’re at least somewhat related. What is the first band that comes to mind when I say 'dark'? Cradle of Filth popped up first. As far as relationships go, what are your biggest deal-breakers? Abuse, arrogance, and distrust probably top the list. Be honest: do looks really matter to you? Nah. It’s nice to be physically attracted to my partner, but it’s not a must. Have you ever done something simply because you were of age? No. Do you think it's worth it to tell someone you had feelings for them when you don't have them anymore? I mean, what’s the situation? Are you hanging out, talking about relationships casually? I’d say it’s fine then if it’s relevant to the conversation. I don’t think it’s worth going out of your way to tell someone you liked them if you don’t anymore, though. Have you ever done something you once thought you'd be too chicken to do? Y’know that ride at fairs where you go up really high on a circular thing with other people and then drop abruptly? That. I screamed like a mf lmao. I had to put a lot of effort into not yelling “SHIIIIIIIIIIIT” lmao. What's a food you love but don't get to eat very often? Stuff involving shrimp, ig. What's your favorite mythical being? Dragons! Have you ever felt a baby kick? I don’t think so, and I don’t want to, considering it’s fucking terrifying to me. I can’t even see a baby move without screaming and wanting to hurl. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Who the fuck knows… What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Said things I shouldn’t have. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? A lot. I can’t be bothered to go through all of them. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? I’m not sure. Do you feel that way around anyone now? I don’t think so. What is your main heritage? German or Irish, idr which is more prominent. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? “Bitches” by Hollywood Undead came to me first lmao. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? More than anything, watching inspirational YouTube videos. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? I suppose maybe my ears? I had tubes put in as a kid, I had an absolutely agonizing ear infection once, I had earwax adhered to my eardrum, and they've always been STUPID dry and flaky. Are you watching your weight? Like a hawk, but it doesn’t seem to matter anyway. :^) Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? Most of my closest friends I’ve met online. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? You’re asking the wroooong person, lol. I’ve just seen way too many… Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? Lots of things; drawings, some writing, photographs, video edits… What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? Just ketchup and mustard. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Sex. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? MEERKATS and MARK What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Tell me I’m weak. Or that my mental illnesses truly do make me unlovable. Just essentially do fucking not make me feel what Jason did. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Said some extremely mean and potentially scarring shit.

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 16X13

I watched the new episode of Grey’s Anatomy over the weekend. I hated the opening, but I liked the rest of the episode. This episode made me laugh a lot too and I’m glad they’ve brought the humour back to Grey’s! After last week’s standalone episode were back to our regularly scheduled program! Meredith and DeLuca are making out in bed together. Yuck. A phone goes off. It’s DeLuca’s. His incurable patient Suzanne is being moved to the CCU. Suzanne still isn’t getting any better. DeLuca says he hopes Dr. Riley can help. Meredith asks who that is. DeLuca says she’s the doctor from San Francisco that he’s bringing in to help with the case. He thought he told her.

Mer points out that they didn’t do a lot of talking last night. I’m trying to understand her actions here. DeLuca breaks up with her over his own insecurities, then refuses to talk to her about it, and then barks at her about his case and so she sleeps with him? I get that she’s lonely but come on! He treats her like crap, they have nothing in common, and he told Maggie he meant what he said. This is why I hate them together. They make no sense and yet they keep breaking up and getting back together. DeLuca tells Mer that Dr. Riley is a diagnostic genius and that he used Mer’s name to lure her to here. Again, he broke up with her because he couldn’t handle that she was better than him but now that his patient is dying, he’s fine with it? WTF? 

As usual DeLuca is only interested in Mer for what she can give him. He wants to be with her not be a part of her family. Her superiority is a problem until he can use it to his advantage. What a leech! That being said I do know people who slept with or temporarily got back together with an ex because they missed them or didn’t want to be alone or because it was easy so I do kinda get that from Mer’s perspective. It’s still dumb though. Mer thinks DeLuca’s move was resourceful luckily for him. He follows that up with, “Look at some point we should probably talk about us.” 

NOW he wants to talk? He couldn’t give Mer the time of day last we saw him. What an ass. That’s one of the things I hate most about them. When DeLuca wanted to talk Mer wasn’t interested then when Mer wanted to talk DeLuca wasn’t interested. They’re never on the same page. It’s exhausting to watch. Just move on already. Mer says they will talk about where they stand but he should go save Suzanne’s life first. They kiss and he leaves. Thank god. We get a sweet Ben and Bailey moment and then Bailey goes into work and Ben goes off to sleep all day! LOL! 

Owen comes to talk to Richard at Pac North. Richard tells him that the hospital has been purchased by the Fox Foundation. Owen thinks he’s joking. He’s very much not. Richard tells him about his and Catherine’s fight and that now everyone has to report to Grey Sloan and interview with Tom Koracick to keep their jobs. Seriously? What is her problem? Owen asks if Alex knows. Richard says he’s still in Iowa dealing with family issues. He said he called to tell him Pac North was closing and in response Alex texted him a laugh until you cry emoji with a party hat! LOL! That is so Alex! Then Maggie walks in excited for her first day! Oh jeez! They have to break the news. 

Meanwhile over at Grey Sloan it’s Schmitt’s first day back. He’s nervous. Nico’s unhappy that Schmitt is still crashing at his place. He wants Schmitt to move out and get his own place because they’re not at the cohabiting stage yet. To be fair Nico’s got a point. Levi’s never lived on his own and that’s an important step in adulthood that everyone needs to take. I’m with Nico on this one. Next we see Hayes and his boys coming down the main staircase. He introduces them to Meredith. They’re bored and disinterested as teenage boys usually are.We learn some very important information about Hayes in this scene in that he and Mer have something else in common. They’re both white parents raising black children as both of Hayes boys are black.

I find this really interesting as it adds a level of complexity and commonality to Hayes’ story and to his and Mer’s relationship. And look at that smile! Look at how her face lights up when she talks to him! Swoon! It also tells us more about Hayes’ family because this means that either his kids are adopted like Zola was or he was married to a black woman. Being a part of a biracial family comes with its own unique challenges and seeing the characters explore that I think could be really interesting. It could also be good for Zola in that she would gain older siblings of the same race that could help her through stuff that her white family members can’t. Derek always said that he wanted her to have black people in her life that could help her.

I love the idea of them all becoming a family. Derek always said that if something happened to him he didn’t want Mer to be alone which is why he encouraged her to connect with her sisters and have kids and wanted Maggie to be there for Zola. Hayes fits the bill perfectly in that he’s exactly the kind of man Meredith needs in her life and that Derek would have wanted for her and I love that! Plus, he’s got Cristina’s stamp of approval! Hayes tells Mer that his boys used to love getting a tour of whatever new hospital he was working at. Now they just want to know where the cafeteria is. LOL! Mer asks why they’re not at school. Hayes tells her it’s parent teacher conference day. Hayes tells the boys to put back whatever they’re messing with and carries on. 

After he leaves Amelia walks up to Mer and says she saw DeLuca leave the house this morning. She asks if they’re back together. Mer says she doesn’t know and asks why she’s so interested. While I’m sad that we didn’t get to see more of Meredith and Hayes this episode and that Mer and DeLuca slept together I do like that they’re building Mer and Hayes’ friendship organically. One of my big pet peeves is that following her relationships with Derek and Finn every relationship Mer had was something they threw her into. There was no build up and they always pursued her. I like that they’re building her relationship with Hayes slowly over time. They’re becoming friends. We’re seeing all that they have in common and he’s not pursuing her like a cheetah chasing a gazelle on the savannah. 

Amelia tells Mer that she’s anxious and so she’s deflecting and looking for examples of love enduring hardships. Mer laughs and says she wouldn’t go that far yet concerning her and DeLuca but the sex is great. She asks if that counts. Amelia says it doesn’t hurt. I like that Amelia and Mer are friends now. It’s so much more interesting than watching them fight. And again we’re back where we started with Mer and DeLuca. She’s having fun and enjoys sleeping with him. He’s head over heels for her and wants a serious relationship with none of the strings. The strings being her family, friends, and kids. Sigh. Amelia runs into Jo. We find out that Amelia is getting the paternity test results back today and that she’s been avoiding Link ever since he asked for the test. Jo is upset about how Amelia’s been treating Link and makes this speech about how couples need to have all of the available information because if they do they can work things out and rise. Amelia asks Jo if she herself is going through something. Jo says Alex hasn’t been returning her calls. That he said that he’s going through something and needs time. 

WTF? Seriously? Are they really going to break up Jo and Alex because the actor has moved on? That’s so dumb! Why not just kill him off then? God this is stupid. Jo says she’s deflecting because she’s anxious. Her and Amelia have that in common. I like that they’re becoming friends. Next we see Jackson asking Tom for more information. Bailey asks what’s going on. He tells her the Foundation is absorbing Pac North and its employees. Bailey didn’t know. Seriously how could Catherine not tell her? She’s the Chief of Surgery! I get that Tom is everyone’s boss now but still.

Following that Bailey walks into a patient room to find three very smelly residents. Helm and Simms are still recovering, and Brody is there helping them do research Suzanne’s case. Bailey is not amused, “Oh god lord people just because you’re injured doesn’t mean you can’t shower!” Simms replies that, “Dr. DeLuca said we could only eat and sleep.” Okay seriously? That’s abusive and also foolish. They’re still recovering! What does Mer see in this asshole? As funny as that line from Bailey was the fact that DeLuca forbade the sick residents he’s in charge of from showering until they figure out what’s wrong with Suzanne is super messed up! No one knows what’s wrong with Suzanne at this point and a bunch of smelly, tired, and sick residents are not going to be able to solve it. 

We cut to a patient room to see Suzanne’s sister telling her about how her daughter kissed someone named Taylor at school. We then find out that her sister’s been digging up dirt on DeLuca and Grey Sloan. She’s not happy. She’s seen the hospital hell article. Yikes! That’s when Dr. Riley walks in! She sets up her tablet and DeLuca is confused. Then she starts signing. The tablet is to connect her to her interpreter so she can communicate with them. She says she’s here for a consult with Dr. Grey who as you recall has no idea who this woman is because DeLuca didn’t tell her!

I love that they’re showing the different ways Deaf people working within the health care system can communicate. The Deaf community doesn’t get as much authentic representation as it should! Very cool! Dr. Riley introduces herself and DeLuca explains why she’s there. Suzanne warms to her immediately. Riley has no time for DeLuca’s nonsense and I love that! She asks him to tell Dr. Grey that she’s here already. She clearly thinks this is Mer’s case and it’s not which is going to cause a problem sooner or later. Also, there’s a big difference between using someone’s name to entice someone and saying they’re going to be working with them which is apparently what DeLuca did. Idiot. 

I loved Suzanne’s sisters comment, “Wow. The competency is just slapping me in the face right now.” She is having none of DeLuca’s crap right now and I love it! Tom comes to interview everyone. Owen tells him that since Alex took a personal leave he’s been filling in as interim chief.  To which Tom replies, “Cool story bro.” Oh Tom. He’s like an elephant. He never forgets and he never forgives. Tom tells Richard what he thinks is good news. That his job is safe. Richard doesn’t see it that way. Tom tells him that Catherine wants him at Grey Sloan enough to buy a craptastic hospital and pretend it’s an investment. Richard’s a hard no on that one. He says, “I thought I could do this because I miss Grey Sloan. Because I miss Bailey and Meredith and Bokhee and OR 2. God how I miss OR 2! But if Catherine thinks she can just move me where she wants like she’s playing chess?” 

Richard refuses to be Catherine’s pawn. Tom tries to talk him down and does a terrible job of it! “You tell Dr. Fox she can go to hell!” Checkmate bitch! You go Richard Webber! Meanwhile in the ER Levi treats an old married couple. They’re in town to attend the Seattle Ballroom Dance Championships. They won 5 Championships back in their day! It turns out the wife has cancer and it’s terminal so they’re out living their best life. They’re very sweet and it’s very sad. Maggie is interviewing to get her job back. Tom’s on his phone. LOL! He hires her back but as an attending working under Teddy because she ghosted them. 

Bailey comes to see a patient of hers who’s a foster kid that Ben brought in. He wants to know where his siblings are. Bailey has to tell them that they were taken by child services because legally she has a duty to report. He’s understandably distraught. Maggie examines Suzanne at Dr. Riley’s request. She needs another procedure. Her sister is pissed. Dr. Riley explains their approach and Suzanne agrees to the procedure. Out in the hall Dr. Riley asks DeLuca where Dr. Grey is. He says she’s in surgery. Maggie walks up and says she’s not in surgery she right there and points to her. She leaves to book an OR.

Okay it’s one thing to lie to get someone to consult on your case which is bad enough but it’s quite another to lie and say someone is in surgery in front of their sister whose your ex when they’re actually standing two metres away. What the hell? DeLuca’s defining characteristic at this point in the series is that he’s an asshole. He does whatever he wants to get what he wants and he doesn’t care about the consequences. I wish they’d just write him off already! Dr. Riley walks over to Mer. She introduces herself and says it’s good to finally meet her. Mer thinks she’s her consult from UCLA. DeLuca tries to correct her and says she’s from UCSF. She asks if Suzanne is her patient and Mer tells her she’s consulted but that’s it.

Mer says she’s at a loss and that she’s heard great things about her. She says it was great to meet her, but she has to go because she’s being paged. She leaves and Dr. Riley is livid. She calls DeLuca out on the fact that he lied to her. DeLuca says he prefers the word lured. What an ass! Dr. Riley’s had enough. She’s leaving. DeLuca really has no redeeming qualities at this point. DeLuca stops her and says that if she leaves now the case will drive her crazy because it will keep her up at night because it’s too rare, they’re too lost, and she’s too good to just walk away. He’s projecting here. That’s how HE feels not her. God he’s such an ass.

Meanwhile Tom is making Owen wait till the very end to be interviewed because Owen was an ass to him and Tom’s petty like that. Amelia and Link talk in the green room. She says she’s getting the results back tonight. She wants to know what’s going to happen with them when they get the results back. Link says he doesn’t know. She asks him if he can try to know. She says he told her he loves her and asks if that’s true and if he wants to be with her and be in her baby’s life. He says that her and Owen have a complicated history and he feels that will shape her future if Owen’s the father. Links says he loves her, but he needs to know. Amelia says okay and leaves. I’m struggling to understand Link’s behaviour here. If he loves her it shouldn’t matter who the biological father is. 

Jackson runs into Maggie and they talk about Koracick as well as Catherine and Richard’s break up. They banter and laugh. I’m glad they’re not fighting anymore. I always liked them better as friends. I hope they get back to that. Meanwhile Hayes catches up to Meredith in the hallway. The way she smiles when he calls out to her makes my heart melt! Hayes asks Mer if she’s seen his boys by any chance. She says no and asks if they’re hiding or maybe just wandering? He says they’re trying to torture him by making sure they’re late for the parent teacher conference. The way she smiles while talking to Hayes about his boys and her kids gives me butterflies! She looks radiant! THAT is what true chemistry looks like!

Hayes says that sometimes he thinks he hates them. He says he doesn’t know how Mer does it. The kids, the job, staying sane. Mer’s response is “Who says I’m sane?” She says that the city shut off her water once because she forgot to pay the bill and she didn’t even notice. Her daughter had to tell her. Oh Mer! Never change. The two of them laugh about the joys of parenting and having to juggle it all. Just then Levi calls Mer to look at some scans. Hayes says he’ll leave her to it and goes to find his boys. I love the easy rapport they’re building between the two of them and I love the way she smiles when he’s around.

Levi brings Mer in to talk to the old couple. The wife’s cancer has spread to the rest of her body. If they tried to operate it’s unlikely she’d recover. This is it. Levi is moved to tears as are we. Maggie goes to operate on Suzanne. Dr. Knox welcomes her back and Suzanne is concerned. She tells Maggie that the Taylor her daughter kissed is a girl. She needs her cool supportive Mom not her uptight Aunt. And her other daughter was already an orphan once and she won’t recover if Suzanne dies so she really needs Maggie to save her. Maggie reassures her. They’ve got her. Suzanne’s speech made me tear up. She really loves her kids. The husband of the dying woman Levi’s been treating comes to talk to him. He says Levi reminds him of his grandson and asks him if he can help a sad old man with a very big favour. Levi says he’ll do anything. My heart! 

Maggie and DeLuca operate on Suzanne. Is this guy who can barely do his job seriously trying to backseat drive the head of cardio? For real? Who the hell does he think he is? As Maggie says Suzanne isn’t here for her feelings she’s here for her hands and her expertise and that is her focus and it should be his too. That is what separates a great surgeon from a hack. Maggie gets that, but DeLuca never will it seems. Following the surgery Maggie and DeLuca come to see Dr. Riley. She decided to stay after all. Dr. Riley says that when Suzanne wakes up they need to withdraw all treatment. Dr. Riley believes the medication is masking the cause of Suzanne’s illness and they need it to present itself so they can treat her properly. DeLuca is concerned because if they do what she’s asking Suzanne could go into septic shock and die within a short period of time. Maggie thinks Dr. Riley’s suggestion is reckless and cavalier. But it’s not her case or place to decide. She leaves and tells DeLuca to follow up.

DeLuca still disagrees but as Dr. Riley points out he asked for her recommendation and this is it. Levi comes in and asks to borrow the other residents. DeLuca tells him to go in his typical dismissive fashion. Owen is still waiting to find out if he has a job. Amelia comes to talk to him. Owen is enraged but as Amelia points out Tom hates him because he stole his girlfriend. He won. He got the girl, the family, the whole Megillah. Tom’s messing with him because he’s in pain and he’s lonely. Her advice is to let him have his fun. Owen asks how she does it. Feel everyone’s feelings so deeply all the time. Owen says it must be exhausting. Amelia says it is. She rests her head on his shoulder for a minute and then leaves. This scene was not as bad as I was anticipating from the thumbnail I saw. It was actually quite sweet. 

Over in the cafeteria the residents have lit candles and put out flowers. They bring the dying woman out to meet her husband who’s in a tux. They reminisce about the day they met. He asks her to dance. His wife is worried because she doesn’t have a gown and looks terrible. Levi hands her a floral bell sleeved feather trimmed robe that she can put on over her hospital gown. Her husband tells her she looks exquisite. Helm puts on the song Moon River and the two of them dance in a candlelit cafeteria like they’re on the world’s best stage! My heart! More people come to watch them dance including the cafeteria staff, some of the nurses, Nico, and Meredith. We find Richard sitting outside on a bench. Jackson comes to talk to him. He says he’s already been to a meeting, he doesn’t want to come home to an empty house, and he’s not sure where he works so he’s just sitting there.

Jackson says he works here and Richard says it’s not by choice. They were building something at Pac North and Catherine took it all away with a phone call to the bank. Jackson says it’ll pass. It’s bad now but soon enough him and Catherine will be joking about it over coffee. Wow. Jackson really doesn’t get it. Shaking my head over here. I loved his line, “Son, After Godzilla’s done stomping all over Tokyo the Mayor doesn’t take Godzilla to brunch.” Sing it Richard! 

Next we find Meredith in the Attending's Lounge. Bailey walks in. Mere talks about how she’s feeling. She says, “There was a time when I would have made a dance floor for the dying old lady. Andrew and I broke up the night of my trial and there was a time when that would’ve meant months of drama for me. But instead I went home and went to bed and I woke up and I was just excited to go practice medicine. I used to be a romantic. I would’ve been the one to build the dance floor in the cafeteria.” And now she’s leaving the dance floors to the residents. Bailey says she’s not lacking in passion she’s just grown up a little. I’m so glad they’re friends again! Next she asks, “What would you do if Ben dumped you?” “I’d burn him to the ground.” Sing it Bailey! They’re called exes for a reason! 

That’s what Mer needs to do. Burn DeLuca to the ground, move on, and start over. I like their talk here. Mer used to be a romantic. She used to be the person who built houses of candles and did big romantic gestures. But when Derek died she stopped being that person. She deserves someone who makes her feel that way again. And no one. Not Riggs or DeLuca or Thorpe or that transplant surgeon or anyone else has made her feel that way. The way that Derek did. She deserves to feel that way again with someone who truly loves her and wants to be a part of her family. I hope she finds it. I do. I hope she finds someone that makes her want to be a romantic again. I think Hayes could be that person and I hope that we get to see it!  

Because she deserves it and that’s what Derek would want for her. He wouldn’t want her to close herself off or settle for second best or some fling. He’d want her to find love again, true love, with someone deserving of her. Jackson comes in and tells them that Richard walked because he doesn’t want to work on Koracick’s terms and honestly neither does he. He asks if they’re just going to let this happen. Bailey’s all hell no! She’s not going to sit by helpless while her family gets split apart again. They’re going to do something about this. Finally!

DeLuca’s speaking with Suzanne and her sister. They’re explaining what they want to do. Her sister is pissed. She thinks they’re giving up. She pleads with Suzanne to let her transfer her to another hospital. That’s when Dr. Riley steps in. She explains that she has three sisters. She talks about each of them and then talks to Suzanne’s sister directly. She explains that she’s too sick to be moved safely and even if they could there’s no one better than her. She explains that because she’s Deaf she’s learned to listen with her whole body and that when the medications are gone the disease can start talking so she can figure out what’s wrong with her and hopefully save her life.

With that she convinces them. Suzanne consents to the withdrawal of treatment. Dr. Riley leaves the room and DeLuca follows her. He tells her that he also has a sister and starts to compliment her. That’s when Dr. Riley stops him. She’s an only child. Daaaamn. Look at her. Getting the job done. I did not see that coming. Dr. Riley you continue to surprise me. Well done! I really like the way they’ve written Dr. Riley so far. Her Deafness is one part of her but it’s not the sole focus. As it should be. She’s a real character with complexity not a stand in and that’s cool.

We cut to the boardroom. Where Tom has just been paged by Bailey, Jackson, Richard, Meredith, and Owen. Shit is about to go down. Buckle up. They tell him the hospital board of which most of them are members has come to a decision. They’re all prepared to quit. Mic drop! “I’m sensing a but.” Right you are Tom! They explain that Dr. Fox wouldn’t really like that as she wants them here at Grey Sloan and she’ll wonder why Tom didn’t do more to protect her Crown Jewel hospital. They’ve only just recovered from the hospital hell article and as Meredith says, “We could blame me for that or we could just remember that I’m a Catherine Fox Foundation award winner and a media darling and I mean you want me here.” Like a boss! And that’s why 16 seasons later we still love her. She gets stuff done like the badass she is. 

As Bailey as Tom can’t afford to lose all his best doctors and his inability to see that could cause Catherine to rethink the whole Chief of Chiefs title, salary, and benefits. Tom concedes. He asks them to name their terms. Bailey says they’re a family. He doesn’t get to rule with an iron fist, not anymore. Their terms are as follows. Owen and Richard get their jobs back. Teddy and Maggie become co-chiefs and he finds the money to cover it. Alex and Hayes become co-chiefs as well or they all quit. Boom!

If Justin Chambers was still on the show this is definitely a scene he’d been in. Fighting for Grey Sloan with the rest of them no doubt. Their deal is this: he agrees to their terms and gets to take all the credit with Catherine. They get their hospital back and he gets to save face. It’s a win win. Tom agrees. It’s a triumphant moment! Tom leaves the room and we hear everyone cheering. It’s great for our heroes but not for Tom. It must be hard hearing everyone cheer at your destruction. Amelia’s right. Tom’s in pain and he’s taking it out on everyone else. Tom is such a complex and interesting character. Greg Germann brings such beautiful complexity to his portrayal. 

Nico and Levi are getting it on in an on call room. But soon Levi stops. He says he doesn’t just want sex. He says he wants a dance partner. He wants what that old couple have. Nico asks if he’s reciting a poem or if he’s being literal. Levi is frustrated. Nico is confused. Next we see Link in the green room. Jeez there are a lot of plants in there! They’ve definitely added more. It’s getting a bit excessive in my opinion. I mean how many plants do you need? Amelia looks through the window at him. He doesn’t see her. She takes a shaky breath then walks away. Link gets a text. It’s from Amelia. She says she’s sorry but she didn’t run the test. She needs more time. This part really pissed me off. I get that she needs more time but Amelia should have told Link that sooner. I hate that they’re drawing this storyline out. Just get the damn test already! Ugh! 

As Meredith’s voice over plays we see Jo come home to a dark empty flat. The future for her and Alex uncertain. Meredith's voice over in this episode is about time and how we're struggling to overcome the simple inescapable truth that eventually everything ends. But that for every clock that counts down another restarts and when one thing ends something new always begins. I feel like this is one of those voice overs that can be taken in a variety of ways depending on how you look at it and which ships you're rooting for. You could take it as Meredith realizing that her relationship with DeLuca has ended and that she needs to move on. Or that Amelia and Link's relationship might be ending. Or that Jo and Alex might be over. Or you could take it the opposite way. It's very open ended. 

Until next time!

[parisfms]

hey legends . im kelly and this is my absolute trash bag of a baby paris . im going to give you a heads up now she is the worst , like just horrible but like she can be fun sooo , wooo .  honestly i’ll probably add more to this at another time because i have so much to say about her? but i also wanna get to plotting with all you beauties! so if you would like to plot you can give this post a like or you can shoot me a message over on discord ( 𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵#6229 ) if you prefer chatting over there <3

the   tahan   family name is one that carries alot of weight . coming from incredibly old money , dating back over five generations . their wealth is rooted in the oil and gas business . although her father ( daveed tahan ) decided to take a different route to his family and in 1990 he and his friend co-founded interscope records ( yes i am mirroring her father’s career after jimmy iovine , don’t sue me ) where he has been a executive producer since the labels founding . he was a perpetual player who truly soaked up the attention he received within the limelight from women . ivy krige was no different , ivy was an up and coming model born to a wealthy family ( the   krige’s   had been paid off in the early 1800s by the british royal family to hold the secret that one of the krige sons was actually the heir apparent to the throne , they took the money and curated a luxury fashion line that still holds up today with the chanels & diors or the world ) in the netherlands . when she met daveed she was infatuated . they dated for about a month before he moved on to another . he assumed that would be it of him and ivy but weeks after the break up she came to him with news that she was pregnant . although the two no longer saw eye to eye , they agreed that the best thing for their future child was to have both of them in their life . 

although paris was born in   amsterdam   , the second her mother received the okay for the newborn to fly they went home to   manhattan   where paris would be raised . not even a full year after paris’ birth , ivy was offered a reality tv show on e! ( how very keeping up with the kardashians of her ) that would follow herself and her two siblings , all of which lived in the city . 

paris’ entire childhood was put on display and god she hated every second of it . she attended regular schools all her life so kids weren’t the nicest and teased her alot . because of the lack of friends she had growing up paris got into alot , she did equestrian , learned how to draw , play guitar , piano , and the drums , as well as how to speak arabic , dutch , spanish , and french . 

she also spent alot of time with her parents , she and her dad got along like two peas in a pod but he was either in los angeles or jet setting across the world so it wasn’t all the time that she got to see him . meanwhile she and her mom had all the time in the world to spend together and in all honesty paris just really isn’t a big fan of her mom . she even calls her ivy instead of mom , it’s likely resentment for the reality tv show as well as her mom always trying to be her friend instead of her parent .

as she got older things started to get easier with kids her age and paris really started to find herself in the whole nyc scene . she was never the nicest girl around . if anything paris and the word nice were never within the same sentence as one another . during high school she gave   regina george   and   blair waldorf   a run for their money . she was and still is the queen of icing people out , ruining their social standings , and manipulating people into thinking she has their best interest in mind .

the biggest note i can give you on paris is that she is not innately a good person , she does not have your best interest at heart no matter how much she manipulates you into thing she is/does .

by the end of highschool she was president of the model un , captain of the mock trial , and valedictorian of her class . paris has never just been a pretty face , she is incredibly smart and takes a certain enjoyment from learning new things . she inevitably decided to attend   georgetown university   in the nations capital . her boyfriend at the time wasn’t very happy about it but she was able to hop on a quick 3 hour flight back to the city every other weekend to see him . that was until they broke up . by then paris had picked up modeling and so she was in the city really whenever she wasn’t in class . 

her modeling career really started to take off but some how she was able to focus on both her blossoming career as well as her education . after just three years at georgetown , paris received her   bachelors in philosophy with a minor in film and media studies   . she was supposed to go straight to law school afterwards but decided to fall head first into the modelling world . she walked for some of the biggest designers , multiple times , starred in some musicians music videos , in just one year she’d surpassed all the modelling goals she had left . in a bit fo a limbo , unsure where she’d take her talents ,   karl lagerfeld   whom she’d grown close to over the years , invited her to come live out in france and he’d take her under his wing .  so she moved out to france . loving every waking moment of becoming his protegee , she wasn’t necessarily sure what he’d seen in her that he hadn’t in renowned designers but she surely was never going to question him . after his unfortunate passing , it came out that he’d wanted paris to take over as creative director of chanel but after one month she stepped down from the position claiming   “i took on this position while they sought out a true replacement for karl, i know he wanted me here but having to carve out my own lane in his shadow is all too impossible, if you ask me”   months later , it was announced that paris would be the   creative director of givenchy   , beating out oliver rousteing for youngest appointed creative director . 

she’s very recently back in new york city ( like it’s so new that she’s living at the plaza hotel while she’s still looking for a permanent place to live ) she loved living in france but honestly it was starting to get to her a bit with karl’s one year coming up .

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

a total daddy’s girl , yes she is the type to say   “my father will be hearing about this“ 

the type to talk you into making a fool of yourself with her and then the next day you find a recording of yourself circulating and she’s nowhere to be seen in it

a total schemer , like blair waldorf level

loves her psychedelics and weed but not big on really any other drugs 

she has a small collection of cars a black range rover , silver bmw i8 , and a silver volvo xc90 and although she has a driver she does actually driver herself most of the time 

her moms reality show is still going and honestly gets really good ratings still ? it’s called    life with the krige’s : fashion royalty   ( normally abbreviated to lwtk )  and paris is on the show by default any time she’s around her mom , her aunt , or uncle . 

very bisexual and notoriously bad at relationships 

she certainly doesn’t have a pristine reputation , how could you when you grew up on reality tv though ? she wouldn’t change her reputation for anything though . the media surprisingly kinda loves her despite calling her an   ice queen   at times . the media sees her as  “authentic”   even though paris couldn’t find an authentic bone out of a haystack .

she can come off very funny but it’s because she has absolutely no filter and just really doesn’t care about hurting your feelings . the best way to sum up her personality is  “im actually not funny , im just really mean and people think im joking” .  

she has two pomeranians ( hi jeffree star , she’s coming for your brand ) named archie and joey . 

despite now being a creative director , img still has her signed on as a model , so maybe you’ll catch her pulling some wild shit like walking in her own shows in the future who knows

has a serious resting bitch face issue and honestly , it’s fitting

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

so just a week before she was set to move out to france , paris attended a house party . her best friend was there and was being a total drag all night . paris was honestly sick of whatever funk the girl was in and so when the girl wasn’t looking paris slipped molly into her drink . not seeing any repercussions or even caring about them until the next morning when her friends body was found in the hudson river . someone who’d tried to get the girl down from the bridge claimed she’s shown serious signs of depersonalization as well as  disorganized thoughts ( both side effects of molly ) . paris decided to never fess up about her part in her friend being under the influence that night , letting it go down in history that the late model had a drug problem . of course , paris felt bad , no matter how horrible she can be her goal is never to assist in someones death let alone someone she genuinely cared for but she wasn’t going to let both of their lives come to an end that night by turning herself in .

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [24] - {ShikaTema AU}

A long time coming and 24 hours later than my late deadline for it, but here it is...

ENJOY!

[READ ON AO3]

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

As Gaara heard the latch of the door click when it shut, laughter echoed through the house, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Rising above the murmuring of the television upstairs, his brother’s laughed bellowed out and, slightly quieter, his sister’s giggles fell well-received on Gaara’s ears. Kicking off his shoes, the young man stepped through into the main room to see the pair grinning. Kankuro clutched the arm of the sofa, and from the floor Temari smiled up at him, and the youngest sibling found himself clearing his throat to grab their attention.

The smile on his face not ceasing, Kankuro turned to his brother. “Have you seen this?” he asked, uncharacteristically excited.

It took seconds for Gaara to see the movie on the screen and register how awful it was. Slowly, he shook his head and reached for a towel from the kitchen side, rubbing it across his sopping wet hair.

Temari rolled her eyes. “You forget that Gaara doesn’t like bad horror movies.”

“But taking the piss out of them is hilarious!”

“They’re just terrible, Kankuro,” sighed Gaara, placing the now wet cloth on the nearest radiator. “But if you both want to keep watching I can grab dinner.”

“No need.” The excitement in Kankuro’s voice hadn’t wavered. “We’ve got fajitas!”

“Hopefully not cooked by you…”

“Very funny,” he chuckled. “No. Tem said she’d make whatever I fancied.”

He could see the way the blonde adjusted her position as he said her name, her shoulder’s tensing slightly before beaming at him almost lifelessly. She looked flushed. No, she looked flustered—but such feeling was clearly hidden behind her eyes and the falseness she seemed to carry herself with in this moment. It didn’t so much seem like she was lying about anything, to Gaara—he dealt with lies constantly. What lay in her eyes was something even more worrying to him; her face was laced with guilt.

And yet she laughed with a true sense of authenticity. Rarely had she liked the ridiculous movies that flew across the TV screen more than Gaara did, and yet her grin was undeniable; her gaze set rigidly on the middle child as though if his smile were to waver her world—her facade of whatever this was—would come crashing down.

“Will there be cheese?” he asked, leaning against the table casually as he strengthened his stare at Temari.

“If you’re willing to go up the shop and get it, sure,” she replied. “But I doubt you’re willing to brave the elements after you just got in, and I just had a shower so I’m definitely not going out there.”

Slowly, all eyes started to turn to Kankuro, but even he pulled a disgruntled expression as he let the cushions of the sofa swallow him up. As Temari rolled her eyes and hopped to her feet, her cheeks flushed with something Gaara was sure wasn’t simply warmth, and he tapped her on the shoulder as she strolled past him, stopping her.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice deep. “Can I ask you something?”

He thought he saw her gulp. “Go ahead.”

The feeling of their brother’s eyes on them was unfathomably intense. Kankuro’s stare felt almost like it would burn through his shirt and brand Gaara a sneaky bugger for trying to reveal this serene family evening for what it truly was. But as his brother groaned, and in his peripheral vision propped himself up to better listen in, Gaara let out a massive sigh. He knew there was no way he could possibly talk to Temari and get her to be honest with him here, and if he did the young man would blow everything totally out of proportion; though he meant well, he always did.

Besides, Gaara had the biggest inkling that what was plaguing his sister was something to do with the man who currently sat atop Kankuro’s ‘hate list’ as he sometimes called it. But he had to ask—he’d think himself a bad brother if he let it slide and kept up the charade.

No, he had to get Kankuro to leave. And it really ought to have been easy enough, given he could annoy his brother to the ends of the Earth.

“Brother,” he began, “would you mind going and getting cheese?”

Kankuro stifled a laugh, raising his eyebrows at him. “I wish you’d stop saying that.”

“What?”

“Brother.”

“But you are my brother.”

“Yes. And yet it’s bloody creepy when you say it.”

“Please,” he added politely, “it’s only about her stuff. There’s this criminal psychology element of this module I’m doing and—”

“Okay, fine. I’m gone.” He hauled himself up and grabbed his coat from the wall. “But there better be hot food ready when I get back.” Both Gaara and Temari watched as he rummaged his pockets, checking for his wallet and forcing a smile. Reluctantly he gave them a thumbs up, swinging round the threshold towards the front door.

The minute he heard that door slam shut and steps grow softer upon their pathway, Gaara shot his attention straight back to his sister, who’s expression had transformed into the very image of relief.

“Right,” he sighed, “what have you done?”

Temari frowned, forcing a laugh as she backed away, opening the fridge when she reached it. “I’m sorry?”

Gaara’s eyes widened, his forehead wrinkling slightly. “You’re acting really suspiciously, Temari. Letting Kankuro watch his awful movies, cooking him what he wants for dinner…” He shook his head a little, smirking. “This is textbook guilty behaviour for you, so what have you done?”

As her eyes locked onto her brother’s eyes, Temari felt her gut twist. It upset her how wrong he wasn’t, and how easily he could read her after all these years. She hesitated as she reached into the fridge, blind, her fingertips quivering at the cold and the nerves that shot through her. Millions of times she had offloaded her problems onto Gaara, and more than a couple of times had she told him about the men she’d dated, been with, avoided, sometimes even in serious detail. He knew he understood, and he knew that he would almost never judge. ‘The cool brother’, he had said; but in reality wasn’t there a point that cool might become cold?

Why did telling him about today feel like that could be the point? Why did it feel like letting slip about Shikamaru, and how she clung to his every word—even clung to his body at one damn point—would completely alter his view on her; on him, too?

Unlike Kankuro, Gaara was at this point open-minded about Shikamaru. No, he’d actively assisted in setting up their date last night. She wanted at least one of them to like him, and she wanted Gaara, in particular, to not think ill of her for this. She knew she’d been hasty, but today had been a long time coming. Only when it had happened had she realised the truth in that fact, but it had.

But how right it seemed to her didn’t mean things would translate the same in his brain.

No, she couldn’t risk it.

“Nothing,” she choked out.

She ripped a packet of chicken from the fridge shelf and dropped it on the side, and every followed in quick succession. Every clatter of plastic or cardboard shot through her ears,, distracting her for a mere second before her lip would start twitching. As she shut the door she caught it between her teeth, and absentmindedly began to pick at her fingernails.

Reluctantly her eyes raised to see him once again, staring at her expectantly. 

“Oh, okay. Fine,” she whined, leaning against the kitchen side. “You know I went out with him last night?” She waited for her brother to nod. “Yeah, it went really well. Like really well.”

Gaara sighed, sitting up on the kitchen side next to her. “You didn’t sleep with him?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shook her head, biting her lip. “But I saw him today and…” Uncomfortably, she cleared her throat. “Well…”

“You slept with him.”

Temari ducked her head in shame, pouting as she frowned. “Don’t make me feel guilty, Gaara.”

“I’m not. You’re doing that to yourself,” he sighed.

“You’re being blunt, and you’re obviously disappointed in me,” sighed Temari, avoiding her brother’s eyes. “May I remind you that you egged me on to sleep with him the other week?”

“I was joking. I thought that would be clear.”

She shifted her weight, turning and reaching for a knife before grabbing a pepper from one of the packets. “Gaara, can we get to the questions about psychology please?”

“Obviously there aren’t any.”

If she wasn’t drowning in guilt she wouldn’t rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate you sometimes.”

Gaara, however, held no such guilt, and rolled his as he hopped off the side and sat down at the table. “I’m not disappointed in you.”

She began to chop. “You look it.”

“No, I’m just worried about you.”

“Shikamaru is harmless,” she told him, her voice completely level.

Gaara screwed his nose up.

“Don’t do a Kankuro on me,” she whined. “Speaking of: don’t you dare mention this to him.”

“You have to at least tell him you aren’t treating Shikamaru anymore.”

“Why? It’s none of his business.”

Gaara hoisted his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a couple of times. “Temari, I get bi-hourly updates about your boyfriend whenever he’s in the shop.”

“You’re kidding…”

“I’m not. Read them.” He carefully handed her the device and pursed his lips as she took it, tentative.

She frowned as her eyes adjusted, focussing on the bright screen.

(8:42) Kankuro: Why does he always look like that????

(8:53) Gaara: Who?

(8:54) Kankuro: Temari’s stalker

(8:54) Gaara: ?

(8:55) Kankuro: Spiky haired prick. He’s got a face like a busted boot

(8:59) Gaara: Class is starting. Grow up, brother.

Temari looked up at her youngest brother who, himself, looked bemused.

(12:32) Kankuro: G he’s a smoker. Seriously! Imagine what dad would say if he knew she was throwing her license for this idiot

(12:33) Gaara: I’m in class. I’m focussing. I suggest you do the same.

(12:33) Kankuro: Seriously! face is so punchable G

(12:39) Gaara: Turn away from the window and work.

(12:40) Gaara: And do not call me ‘G’.

(14:59) Kankuro: G if he touches Tem I will acc hit him

(15:02) Kankuro: *Gaara

(15:07) Kankuro: blonde girl in the shop is hot though.

“He’s going to start being problematic soon.”

Her head shot up again, her mouth gaping open. “Start?” A dumbfounded laugh spluttered out. “Gaara, he went into the shop and spoke to him solely about me yesterday. And this? How long has he been doing it?”

“Only since the start of the week.”

She rolled her eyes, genuinely unable to form a serious thought on the situation. “Only…”

With a loud buzz, the phone in her hand vibrated, and on the screen appeared another message from Kankuro. Through her body shot an intense feeling of fear that maybe in her amazement and with carelessness she had pressed voice record; that maybe he’d been listening to her. Nervously she took a proper look at what had appeared.

A photograph of two rivalling blocks of cheese in the palm of Kankuro’s huge hand.

Temari’s eyes flew to the back of her head as she passed it back to Gaara and turned her attention back to the chopping of peppers. “I can’t tell him I went out with Shikamaru, Gaara.”

“And why not?” he asked, rapidly tapping his screen. “I’m not asking you to admit you shagged him—”

“Gaara, please stop.”

“—just that you’ve stopped seeing him as a patient. And that you’ve seen him as an, um…non-patient.”

Forcing back a smile at her brother’s awkwardness, Temari pursed her lips. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to keep seeing him…”

Gaara put his phone down, sitting back in the chair with a deep sigh. He ran a hand through his hair as he zoned in on the worry in her eyes. The opposition lurking at the back of his throat was silenced in one look and he smiled softly at her. “Nobody can’t stop you, but I think at the very least you need to prioritise his mental health.”

“I have been thoroughly schooled in prioritising such things, thank you,” she groaned.

“Then just do it.”

Forget worry; her impatience was taking centre stage now. “He’s not my patient anymore, Gaara!”

“Then make sure he’s someone’s patient,” he sighed. “As his girlfriend you owe that to him.”

“We’ve been on one date and…” She blushed. “Look, I’m not his girlfriend.”

“You want to be.” He paused as she stopped cutting vegetables and raised her eyebrows at him. “Don’t look at me like that, Temari. Don’t deny it.”

With a sigh she shook her head. “I do,” she said, “but you and Kankuro—”

“What about me and Kankuro?”

“You’ll try and stop me.”

“We wont,” insisted Gaara. “I just told you—”

“Okay then: he will.”

Gaara shook his head, smiling. “No, Temari; he won’t. Dad would’ve, and while Kankuro has his moments, they are different people.”

“But he isn’t wrong,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. “And Dad would’ve been so annoyed that I spent so long studying just to get my license revoked.”

“It won’t be.”

Her eyebrows raised. “How do you know that?”

The look in his eyes told her plainly that he didn’t, but his composed voice almost tricked her. “Just be rational for a minute, Temari.”

“Gaara…”

“Gaara, what?”

“His mental state,” she sighed. “I can’t be responsible for worsening it…”

Temari watched him closely as he ran his hands through his hair, elbows flush against the table. He stared at his lap, head hung low, as though he had no idea how to counter her, and why should he? For whatever reason her brother seemed conflicted; one side of him desperate for righteousness, the other yearning for his sister to simply be happy. She couldn’t exactly blame him. If the tables were turned then Temari knew she’d have no idea how to approach the situation, and she doubted she’d be able to stop herself focussing solely on the pros of the situation—Gaara deserved someone more than she did in her eyes, after all.

The mental back and forth that was obvious from the twiddling of his hair around his fingers terrified her. It terrified her because he was a logical man and he was a smart one. It terrified her because Gaara weighed up the cons before the pros, and he was a stickler for finding the problems; his little honourable brain couldn’t help but be right.

But as her nails tapped on the chopping board, Gaara’s muscles tightened, and he couldn’t help but squirm, totally unsure. He’d known what she wanted before the words slipped from her lips, he’d understood the predicament without her doing more than outlining the situation. And, what was by far the worst feeling: he knew exactly what he needed to tell her right now.

While he’d never met the man, he’d been in similar shoes. Not quite the same tread, and certainly not walked the same pathways that his had taken, but the fit was the same. Slightly suffocating, expectant and tiring; slow, arduous and anxiety riddling with every step. Gaara knew how it felt to be staring at the person in the plush chair, behind the desk, with their notepads and their false smiles, and empathy bubbled to the surface more and more the longer he pondered.

Regrettably, Temari had been right. Shikamaru needed help, just like she had always said from the beginning, and he knew if he was the one still strapped into the rollercoaster of therapy it would not have helped him to get off just for a lover.

Nervously the young man gulped, biting on his lip.

“Maybe you’re right,” said Gaara, reluctantly. “Maybe you should take a step back until he’d secure.”

As her eyes began to prickle, Temari nodded solemnly. How could she have expected any other answer from him? Of course he was right, and of course he was ethical about it. He just couldn’t be any other way when it came down to it. His pleasantries and his idealistic approach lasted only so long, and with a wipe of her eyes, Temari forced a smile at him as if to show him she understood that he meant only well. Age really did mean nothing, and the youngest was far and away the most mature—Gaara was ten times more competent in adult decision making than she was.

And yet, in the end—despite his words sounding hauntingly like the thoughts that ate away at her ever further from the back of her mind, too close to the front—it would make no difference. There was something about Shikamaru that tickled her impulses, and after years of saying no to everything, being inherently good and sensible, he made her senses tingle with that desire to do something: anything! His persona captivated her so much she hated it, and her body told her that no matter what she would be texting him in half an hour, she would be asking him if he still wanted to see her Saturday, and if he did she would definitely be running to see him.

Shikamaru brought out all the things in Temari she had spent her life tucking away, compartmentalising into little boxes she wanted to keep secret for the rest of her life and feelings she never even thought she’d access. He’d also, unwittingly, caused her to throw away, at some level, her regard for reasoning and she didn’t care.

For the first time, Temari’s heart—as much as she still somewhat queried if it was indeed that which did this—was holding the reins, and she was really quite okay with that.

Slowly she took a couple of steps closer to the table, blinking away the guilty tears she didn’t want to admit to having. With a smile, Gaara rose to his feet and sighed. 

“I want you to know that I do want you to be happy. I really do,” he added. “Why else would I have called Shikamaru for you yesterday?”

Temari embraced him without a second thought, swaying side to side in a tight and much needed hug, when out of the corner of her eye appeared a dripping wet face; confused and struck with what seemed like rage, a block of cheddar held in a white knuckle grip.

“Gaara,” Kankuro forced out, his voice laced with a disagreeable laugh. “What did you just say?”

~~~

His clothes glued to his skin, Shikamaru shifted slightly in his chair, poking aimlessly at the food on his plate. It sat before him miserable and just cold enough he didn’t want another mouthful, which according to his mother was just what he got for being home late. His parents finishing off their dinner with mixed emotions ever-present in their eyes, and the atmosphere around the round table was nothing short of the usual, un-engaging dynamic he was used to.

As he forced down another mouthful of chicken a shiver made it’s way up his spine to his neck, the cold seeping into every pore. It was then the thought came to him as he stared at down: Why wasn’t I allowed to get changed?

“Why are you soaking wet, Shikamaru?”

“Rain, Mum,” he groaned. “Wet, it falls from the sky…ever heard of it?”

He swore he heard Shikaku splutter slightly, but the man wasn’t giving anything away.

“Why didn’t you get the bus?”

“I got a cab.”

“A cab?”

“Yes.” It was a strain not to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself. “A cab.”

“Then why are you wet?”

Shikamaru turned to his father, frowning desperately. “Dad…”

“Are you going to eat your broccoli?”

“Mum, I’m twenty three.”

“So you can definitely formulate a sentence to answer me. Are you going to eat your broccoli?”

He looked at Shikaku once again, who merely raised his eyebrows at the young man as if to tell him, ‘Just eat the damn broccoli.’ Slowly he shovelled a forkful of peas into his mouth, armed with the knowledge that he should certainly be afraid if he were to annoy his mother.

“Thank you,” said Yoshino, in that same sweet voice, dripping with relief, that she used whenever her son or husband gave into her requests. “Can you pass me the gravy, Shikaku?”

The older man caned his neck slightly, staring into the abyss of an empty jug. “There’s none left, love.”

Frowning, she reached for the jug and peered inside as if she didn’t believe him. “Well,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes, “that’s disappointing. You need to make more next time.”

“Make more?” chuckled Shikaku as he shook his head. “And encourage myself to drown my food further?”

Shikamaru smiled as he locked eyes with his father for a split second. It had been a long time since Shikaku had cooked dinner, and for once it wasn’t awful. That didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted to eat the shoddy excuse for food, dowsed in gravy until it seemed more like soup than a roast dinner, but he appreciated the sentiment. And his father cooking meant one thing—Yoshino didn’t hold it over their heads that she’d fed them that evening, so they had that tiny bit more power than normal, and they were certainly going to take advantage of it.

“Love, could you possibly go and grab that bottle I saw you put in the fridge?”

Yoshino frowned, and so did Shikamaru. His father didn’t usually like to drink with his food, and he liked even less to drink in front of his son given the knowledge he held. This was a ploy—Shikamaru could see that plain as day. His dad was going drop something on him, and he had to get ready for it.

“Please,” her husband sighed. “I just really fancy it.”

“And if you’re going, can you grab me some more water?” added Shikamaru, barely turning from staring at his father as he took another bite to merely prove a point.

Shaking her head, the woman lifted her empty plate and her husband’s with a sigh and stepped backwards out of the room. “You’re lazy, Shikamaru Nara!”

“He’s just efficient,” called back Shikaku when he was sure his wife was far enough away she wouldn’t hear anything softer typical chatter, smiling at his son as he chewed.

The young man widened his eyes and cocked his head to one side expectantly until his father rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward with an inquisitive look. 

“So your date last night,” Shikaku whispered, “go well?”

Even with the mental preparation he’d tried to give himself, Shikamaru almost choked. “What the fuck?”

He chuckled, shaking his head at the predictability of his son. “That is why you’ve been sneaking about, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t been ‘sneaking about’, Dad…”

“Come on, boy. Tell me.”

Shikamaru frowned and closed his eyes. “Dad, stop.”

“Serious or just sex?”

“Oh Christ, Dad—stop.” He almost threw his knife and fork to his plate, doing all he could not to plug his ears with his finger tips. “I am begging you, old man: stop talking.”

“The top button of your shirt is broken,” observed Shikaku, a snide chuckle at the back of his throat, ready to unleash when his son’s fingertips flew to his collar at once. “And your hair is particularly messy.”

Shikamaru could feel his cheeks flush, burning hot, when he felt no button. “My hair is always messy thanks to your genes…”

“That’s why you were late wasn’t it?”

With one huge squeeze, he let his eyes finally pry open to see the expectant-looking man before him. “Dad,” he groaned out, desperate for an end to the awkward feeling that flew through his veins.

“Say ‘Dad’ as much as you want, kid. I’m not changing the subject.”

Shikamaru looked particularly embarrassed, and as his hand instinctively found the hairs on the back of his neck he sighed. There was no stopping this man. If there was one thing his father had always wanted from him it was honesty; and being open with the trials and tribulations of his everyday life, no matter how big or how small, fell into this category.

And, despite the searing flashes of mortification and sudden memories of awkward talks in years gone by that this moment, right now, brought him, Shikamaru could hardly blame his father’s intrusion into his life. After all, Shikaku had never seen his son date or have a girlfriend, and he’d barely ever—maybe even only once—talked to him about women in general, too. So, it was inevitable that this conversation would arise at some point given the observational skills that his father possessed. Shikamaru just wished that it had come at a different time; a time where he could answer at least one simple question. The one he was grinding his teeth waiting for.

“Is it her?”

He frowned. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. “Who?” he laughed, confused.

“The therapist,” his dad said, as if it was the most unexciting and normal thing in the world.

Shikamaru began to pull on his baby-hairs, barely able to mutter through his uncomfortable laughter, “Dad…” 

“Yes, then.”

To the untrained eye, Shikaku Nara would’ve looked entirely uninterested at that moment— emotionless and plain—but Shikamaru had lived enough years inside paper-thin walls with him to know the man better than that. He knew his father far too well to zone in on the creases between his eyebrows resembling a weak frown and peg him as angry, and he knew so much better than to focus only on the little smile that twitched at the corner of his mouth when his son’s cheeks grew uncomfortably red. The consistent happiness in Shikaku’s eyes as he stared down the young man almost masked the evident worry he held, but Shikamaru understood.

He’d known—of course he’d known—and he also knew that it wasn’t exactly a good situation. And after, way back when, the weird lady who’d tried to jump him in the waiting room rather than ever helping him, he couldn’t entirely bash his father’s cynicism. After all, being raised by a cynic had rubbed off on him a little, as well.

But cynicism, he’d discovered in the time he knew Temari, fell short with your feelings. Sometimes, he’d learned, you had to just put your faith in something and run with it, despite every inch of your being and your personality frowning upon that. And last night he had truly started sprinting, and there was no way he was turning back.

That didn’t make it any easier to admit something which was undeniably frowned upon across the board, though.

“It’s not her fault,” Shikamaru whispered. “It’s mine.”

Surprisingly his father’s smile grew as he leaned a little closer. “Shikamaru, it isn’t anybody’s fault,” he sighed.

The young man, as relieved as he felt, couldn’t help but stare at him, his subtly worried expression unchanged.

“Love is just love, isn’t it?” Shikaku chuckled. “The first time I met your mother, she slapped me round the face—do you think I asked to fall in love with her?” He waited for a smile on his son’s face that never came, and with a gentle sigh sat back in his chair, shrugging. “I just happens, son. We can’t help it.”

Shikamaru ducked his head quickly and lifted his fork once more, just to push his uneaten broccoli around his plate.

“So it’s too soon to say love?”

“Of course it is,” almost spat Shikamaru through a laugh. “I’ve only known her a month, Dad—barely that!” 

“Time doesn’t make it any less real.”

He truly never thought he’d have this conversation with his father. Whether it was that he’d never expected to come across anyone like Temari as he dragged his feet through life or whether he just didn’t think Shikaku would care, everything about this was so foreign it felt impossible—surreal, even. If the ground were to have swallowed him up then before he could form any word to respond, that would’ve been fine. If his mother had returned and intruded then that would’ve been so warmly welcomed (but she’d clearly misplaced the corkscrew again and was taking an age.) And worst of all, his father wasn’t easing up on his expectant look just yet.

Honesty, thought Shikamaru. I should just be honest. Tell him I don’t know how I feel yet.

But that wasn’t truly honest, and even if it was such things were so much harder to execute than to say. 

“I’m not good with my feelings,” he groaned, dropping his fork. “I don’t have to tell you that.”

“That’s just cause you’ve never had them.”

Shikamaru fortunately registered the humour and shook his head with something that vaguely resembled a smile. “Cold, Dad. Cold.”

“Maybe you could talk to your therapist about it.”

“Aren’t you hilarious?” he said, deciding to keep quiet about the fact that, as it stood, he didn’t actually have one.

“Seriously, boy,” Shikaku chuckled and raised his eyebrows at him, “just be honest with yourself. Tell her how you—”

“Here you go!”

Shikamaru jumped as into the room flew Yoshino, placing before his father a bottle, and a half-empty glass in front of him. Nervously he smiled as his mother frowned.

“What? What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” the men said in unison, sharing a subtly knowing glance as one took a drink and the other lifted his fork slowly.

“Oh, Dad, before I forget,” Shikamaru began, piercing through another lump of broccoli to please his mother. “Can I borrow the car on Saturday?”

With a raised eyebrows, the older man hummed. “Why?”

He cocked his head to one side, lip between his teeth as he momentarily widened his eyes. “Just told Choji I’d—”

“Okay,” Shikaku shot back, understanding instantly. “Go for it. Just don’t crash it—oh, or stain anything in it!”

“Very funny.”

~~~

“Shikamaru?” Kankuro pounded the block of cheese in his hand onto the side before shedding his coat to the ground. “As in flower shop Shikamaru?”

With a gulp the young woman nodded. “Yes.”

“Gaara, why are you egging her on with this?”

“He’s not—”

“Why aren’t you?” intervened Gaara. “Pick your coat up.”

“Because she’s our sister, that’s why! I don’t like the idea of her fucking everything up, and fucking him while she—”

“Kankuro, she’s right bloody here!” he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Our sister is a human being capable, frankly, of far superior thought to us. You really think she hasn’t approached this entire situation with the necessary caution?”

“Obviously not if anything at all has happened!” Kankuro gaped and waggled his finger at her accusatively, lowering his tone suspiciously. ‘That’s where you went last night, isn’t it?”

Temari fumbled to speak, her throat closed with anxiety.

“Holy shit, it was!” he laughed. “And the night before—it was his you stayed at wasn’t it?”

“Kankuro,” she began weakly with tired eyes, never getting the chance to explain herself. “Please stop it…”

“Didn’t I tell you, Gaara?”

Sick of being the middle man, the youngest sibling sighed and turned away sheepishly.

“You bloody…you arsehole…” Amazed, Kankuro turned back to his sister and shook his head, arms spread wide. “He bloody knew? And you didn’t tell me a thing?”

She gaped, her nose screwing up more by the second. “Well, excuse me if I didn’t want you to physically attack a perfectly nice and innocent man, Kankuro.”

“Innocent?” he spat. “You don’t watch him every day like I do. You don’t see him and that hot blonde!”

Temari’s blood began to burn through her veins. “My God, you’re so full of shit.”

“And you don’t know him! He’s a bad influence on you—can’t you see that?”

“Spoken by the true angel that you are,” she scoffed. “The man doesn’t even drink! Yes, he smokes, but there’re far worse things he could be doing with his time!”

“I meant professionally, Tem, but if you want to go down that road, let’s go there. Shall we, yeah?” Kankuro crossed his arms, almost snarling. “That girl—the one in the shop he’s always with—you really think that him and her aren’t at it?”

“You’re disgusting…”

“No, Temari!” He shook his head. “I’m just not blind, unlike some. Men are arseholes—”

“You think I haven’t noticed that from living with you?”

Gaara spluttered with laughter, earning a glare from the pair of them, and sunk back into his chair. “Sorry,” he breathed out.

“Temari,” said Kankuro, his voice laden with a sickeningly familiar patronising tone, “just take a minute to be honest with yourself. You know that he is a bad idea, and you know that you can do so much better than this mess that you’ve willingly gotten yourself into!”

Never in her life, even in the first few sessions with Shikamaru, had she ever wanted to sent her fist flying into somebody’s cheekbone as much as she did right now. There were only a handful of times in her life that she’d truly unleashed her rage on her own brothers, and undeniably most of those were to Kankuro, and he was teetering her on the edge of repeating it. Temari could feel her whole body shaking, her fists tightened into white balls from the tension; fixed like concrete and ready to swing. Every square inch of her skin felt like it was flaming and she could sense the most horrible nervous feeling of needles all over her body.

It wasn’t like she was actively waiting to break her brother’s jaw, but if the opportunity presented itself—f she had to hit him at this point—she wouldn’t hesitate. “Three strikes,” she muttered under breath, so quietly the furious man before her barely noticed.

“Temari, you deserve some guy who can pull his own weight…”

Didn’t take long, she thought. Strike one.

“…that you don’t have to fucking baby…”

Strike two.

“…because his is so fucked that can barely hold it together for ten minutes without having to rely on fucking cigarettes and your stupid advice!”

Strike three.

But her hands couldn’t move. Instead, when she felt herself surge forward in her unfiltered glory, words just started to fly out.

“Have you sat down and listened to him talk about his life? About his mind? About how he tried to fucking kill himself, Kankuro?” screamed Temari, her face right up in his. “Do you ever stop to consider what it’s like in someone else’s mind and not in your pessimistic like shit hole you call a brain? God, you’re a prick!”

Kankuro, for a moment seemed speechless. For a split second as his eyes widened and the air in the room grew clammy, it almost felt like she’d hit the right nerve to stop him in his tracks. Because, in reality, how dare he? Where did he earn the right to spout such garbage at her—lies about a kind soul and comments on things he knew literally nothing about? If he was mute from this moment on it would surely be a blessing!

Slowly Temari stepped back, glaring as her voice simmered down to a softer, more scathing vein. “Now what the fuck have you got to say for yourself, huh?”

There was a beat, and Gaara shuffled anxiously at the table as Kankuro stepped up to his sister once more.

“You shouldn’t see him again, Temari; you’re going to get hurt.”

“Oh, shut your damn mouth. Nobody’s going to hurt me but you.” She squinted at him, disgusted by the flickers she could see of her father in his eyes. “Make your own fucking fajitas, asshole.”

[gilbirda]

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Chapter 3: Rumours

It was a normal morning at the teacher’s lounge room when Bog first heard about the rumours around Marianne.

“Gosh, I can’t stand this,” the math teacher said, an elderly woman whose name he didn’t care enough to remember. Someone stepped forward and asked:

“What happened, Susan?” Yeah, whatever her name was. He kept on reading his book and drinking his coffee in his silent corner. It was rude to be the first one leaving so he waited at least until the first classes started to run to his Library.

“I stumbled upon that kid today, Marianne,” that made him listen. What about her?

The room fell silent and a few shuddered involuntarily. Bog didn’t understand why.

“Her eyes spook me sometimes. They are so weird,” the woman, Susan, kept going. “She had those headphones plugged in, you know? And she didn’t seem to know where she was going. We bumped into each other, fortunately I didn’t fall… But she looked at me and - and she said “sorry”!”

Bog blinked. Wasn’t that common courtesy? Why were these people freaking out because of Marianne being a normal human being?

“And what happened next?” someone asked. Bog thought it was the science teacher.

“Nothing,” Susan said finally taking off her coat. “She just kept walking on.”

“Are you serious?” the same teacher asked.

Understanding that he wouldn’t be able to finish his book anytime soon, the temporary librarian put it down and tried make sense of what they were saying.

“I’m not kidding you! She didn’t threaten me or looked like she wanted to punch me at all…”

“Does she…” Bog gulped, not realizing he had talked. Everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he even had talked. He never did. Well, I’m already here, he thought. “Does she usually do that?”

“Do what? Threaten people?” another teacher scoffed. He thought it was the English teacher, but he wasn’t sure. “All the time! Haven’t you noticed it already? I heard she had been tasked with helping you with the Library.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Doesn’t she irk you? Or tried to beat you up?”

“No, but…”

“Don’t mind her, honey,” Susan approached him, a gentle smile on her lips. She tried to put a hand on his shoulder but Bog flinched back. If the woman noticed, she didn’t say anything. “She is just… lost. Since what happened two years ago…”

This caught even more his attention.

“What happened?”

“Oh yeah, you weren’t here then,” the science teacher blinked in surprise as if the thought of someone not knowing what happened was unfathomable. “The kid got dumped by Roland.”

That’s it? The librarian thought. Dumped by some random guy?

“Yeah, it was such a tragedy. She was the Queen, you know? She had been the Queen of the Spring Ball since she started high school.”

“The Spring Ball?” Bog asked.

“It’s this big event the kids love. Actually it’s in a month or so, if you are interested, because teachers can go if we want to,” the English teacher (Grace, her name was Grace) added, but didn’t seem really excited about it. “Every year, near the end on the evening, a Queen and King are voted among the students and they’ll hold the title until the next Spring Ball.”

“And this Roland guy and Marianne…”

“They were Queen and King for a year, but now the Queen is her younger sister Dawn.”

I didn’t know she had siblings, Bog thought.

“And what happened?”

“She changed when she got dumped. Marianne stopped coming to school for an entire week! And then she came like this punk brat one day, listening to her music and ignoring everyone.”

“And getting into fights every week,” the science teacher said taking a sip of his coffee. “Ungrateful brat…” he grumbled.

“Is that a normal behaviour?” Bog asked, remembering her bandaged arm and swollen cheek from that first day. He did ask if she was okay, not really sure if her delicate skin would heal those wounds fast enough.

Almost every teacher scoffed.

“It’s the normal behaviour. Always angry and picking fights. With the boys!” Grace raised her arms to the ceiling. “I can understand if she’s angry with the other girls with all those hateful comments, but the boys haven’t done anything to her! And she’s a girl!”

Hateful comments?

“It seems that all kinds of rumours started to go around since Roland dumped her,” Susan continued, “and all about her and what happened for the Queen to be cheated on like that.”

Oh, Bog felt his own heart skip a beat. She was cheated on by her boyfriend? And the whole school knew about it? Poor thing.

He was about to ask more about what happened to Marianne but the bell rang before words could get out of his mouth. Like if the conversation hadn’t been a big revelation, the rest of the teachers rushed to get ready for a new school day dealing with their students.

The only teacher that took her time to go was the art teacher, whose name he did remember only because it was so weird and rare.

“You shouldn’t stick your nose in her private matters like this, Bog,” Aura, or “Sugar Plum” as she liked to be called, said with a very serious face. “And not from someone who isn’t the direct source of the problem. If she wanted you to know about this she would have told you.”

He knew she was right and that this didn’t concern him at all, but his curiosity was burning brighter that a bonfire.

“I know,” he said nonetheless.

Aura locked her impossible blue eyes, a shade lighter than his own, with him for a while before sighing and turning back to the door, her bag full of painting supplies tucked under her arm.

“Just remember that nothing is what it seems,” and with that she left him alone in the teacher’s lounge.

***

When Marianne arrived at the Library too many hours later, Bog had decided that whatever happened with the girl and her ex-boyfriend shouldn’t concern him; and if she decided to misbehave because of a broken heart, then it was her responsibility to mature past the childish fixation with only one boy.

So far, she had been respectful and even nice with him, so nothing else should matter.

“What boring and tedious job do we have for today?” she asked with a tiny smile, and for a brief moment Bog wished that she was happy for being here with him. It was absurd, of course, as this was only a punishment for getting into too many fights on school grounds. If she had her way she wouldn’t step on the Library at all.

Still, he felt an equally small smile creep into his face.

“Oh, nothing much,” he pointed to the still enormous pile of books to be catalogued. Two whole days and they only managed to get to the third shelf. There were fifteen of them.

“Damn.”

“Yep.”

***

Marianne didn’t speak much as she worked, which he was grateful for. She also wasn’t looking at him, too focused on the task at her hands, and he wasn’t sure why exactly this fact struck something in his heart. At least it let him look at her and really see the person she was, now that he has new information about her.

She really didn’t look heartbroken. Well, she didn’t have to, it had been almost two years since that, but still he expected her to show that in any form. Maybe her face? Her eyes? Everyone he somehow learned had their hearts broken looked the same: sad, grey and lonely. He himself looked like that once upon a time when he still believed in love, but no matter how much time had passed a slight trace of that was still present.

Wasn’t first love supposed to work like that?

But no matter how long he looked at her smooth, slightly angular face and her golden eyes he couldn’t see any of that. Bog would never have guessed any of the story the other teachers told him by looking at her alone.

“What are you looking at?” her sharp remark snapped him out of his musings. Marianne was a few steps in front of him with a book between her hands and a really angry expression on her delicate face. “Bog King?”

Bog blinked slowly, finding that he had absolutely nothing to say.

“Something’s on my face?” she asked, and if he were paying attention he would have noticed the slight trembling on her voice. “Speak.”

This was a whole new Marianne he hadn’t faced before. She was trying to be scary and menacing, and if he was another person maybe she would have managed to succeed in that; but what the girl didn’t know was that he could stand much worse than that.

“What have they told you?” she narrowed her eyes and put the book she was still holding down on the table next to her. “Speak!” she repeated, this time followed by a punch to his face.

She looked authentically surprised when he stopped her fist with a swift motion.

“How did you-?”

“Don’t get angry, kid,” he finally said. “And don’t try to punch me next time. You won’t hit me.”

She grumbled and took back her hand, cradling it on her chest. Bog worried that he had hurt her, but she seemed just fine so he didn’t move to ask her if it was otherwise.

“And yes, today I’ve been told some…rumours about you.”

Her eyes seemed clouded for a second and then her body instantly relaxed, but not in a good way. It was more like she had been the one punched in the face.

“I - I see.” Marianne took a step back, the fight completely gone from her like if a switch had been hit. Her eyes running around the room, everywhere but him and her body language told him immediately that she wanted to run away from there. Was he the only one feeling like something had been broken between them?

“Look, I know it’s-”

“You know nothing!” she said, her voice way too loud in such a quiet place. “Please, don’t. Whatever you were going to say, save it.”

Bog sighed. There goes the teenager.

“Having your heart broken is not the end of the world, kid,” he said, but even he felt like his words were hollow. “You’ll get over it.”

She scoffed.

“Is that everything they told you?”

The librarian blinked. Was there more story than that?

“Yeah…,” he looked behind her to the big windows of the Library, which showed a beautiful spring scene of the inner courtyard of the school. He liked those windows, but right now the beauty did little to calm his nerves. How difficult it was to deal with teenagers! “Actually…”

“What?” she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring with all of her golden might.

“I kind of wanted to hear the truth from you?” Bog looked at her and immediately looked back to the window again, obviously uncomfortable in this situation.

If he were watching the girl in front of him, he would have seen the epitome of shock.

“I know how rumours can warp the truth, and I have to admit I’m curious but… if you don’t want to talk about it… I’ll understand….” he finally looked at her shocked expression, feeling stupid for meddling with affairs that had little to do with him.

“You are right, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bog sighed and turned back to his table, where he had abandoned his share of the work for today. What a way to ruin his peace and quiet, he grumbled in his mind. Why did he have to be such a stupid-

“But,” her soft voice made him stop in his tracks. “I think you deserve the truth.”

“Are you sure?” the man asked as he turned back to her. She looked up to fix her eyes with his, a determined shine on the rare golden shade.

“Positive,” Marianne sighed and uncrossed her arms, the tension leaving her body. “I got cheated on my boyfriend, my first one ever, almost since the first day we started dating. Everyone knew it but me. When I found out I dumped him.”

“Wait, you dumped him?”

“Heh, they told you it was him who did it, right?” he nodded. “Yeah, that’s what he made everyone believe. While I was away he made all kinds of public shows and flashy demonstrations that it was him who left me, because…”

“Because he didn’t love you back?” Bog gulped, feeling sick just by hearing this.

“No,” she shook her head and sighed deeply, looking down at her feet. For a moment she seemed troubled by her thoughts, pondering what she was going to say next. Was she going to lie? No, she said he deserved the truth and he had to believe her. “He cheated on me… and I ended our relationship… because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

[snowbarrywatercooler]

While I love Grant Gustin to pieces, I'm not looking forward to watching an hour long comic con involving him and Kevin praising WestAllen. Though I can't help but be curious about his forced answered and body language. If it's not too much trouble, could you pinpoint some of those moments in the video? I know it's on YouTube so I'd have no problem finding it. I'd just rather not watch the whole thing. Thank you in advance!

Here’s what I can sum up from the video.

VIP is $311. x Grant looks and acts tired from shooting Season 4 overall. David Rappaport knew him from 90210 and casthim in the role. David is also responsible for casting Candice too.Andrea was there. Right behind him at his signing booth.

Kevin moderated the interview, he compares Grant’s work ethic to Matt Damon’s. Grantkeeps smiling and waving at his fans, he’s genuine even though he looks tired.Fame and wealth make Grant nervous, that’s why he doesn’t do many cons.Kevin keeps praising Season 4 over and over but he doesn’t mean it in histone. Grant is just nodding along. Praising the show along with him. Especially because they know what it’s leading up to. These questions are pre-screened, nothing is said on the air that Grant is not prepared to answer.On how he was cast: he tested the same time as Carlos. He claims theonly person he did a chemistry read was with Candice. I notice how he spokethere, he was lying because we would have seen it by now in some way, leaked or on a DVD. He neglected to bring up his screen test with EBR,which was on Season 1 DVD, his “chemistry test” with Candice was not, “so much chemistry.” Why can’t we see it then?12:46 is where the WA talk begins. The “drama for the sake of drama comment.” Even with the small cheering Grant’s face saysit all…his body scrunches up, his shoulders are held back and tight,his face is holding something that looks like a forced smile but he isn’t smiling,he’s acting, trying to sell WA. Kevin in spite of having the question already memorized looks down.

Kevin ignores the that fact of WA are step-siblings and insteadcalls them “childhood besties” no mention of incest at all going right into “nowyou guys are married.” Grant during all of this was holding a fist and fidgeting a lot,why he is so uncomfortable? If he has chemistry with CP, why does he giveoff so much discomfort whenever WA is brought up? Grant also says “if we canstay on the air long enough” and “I hope everyone saw the finale” which indicates he isn’tconfident in the show anymore. He doesn’t know what will happen. He triesto sell us WA but he can’t help being honest in the same answer, he can’tlie but he can’t piss off his bosses. When Grant mentions “I guess we’llsee…a kid? In the future.” A small crowd cheers but when the camera pansto the crowd nobody is smiling. 

I’ve counted, maybe 4-5 WAs in a sea of 8,000, andeveryone is just as serious as Grant. These are not WA stans, they are superGG fans. Nobody cares about WA.

14:16 is where it ends. Grant is relievedthe discussion is over. His curt laugh at the end points that out.6-23 was the date of the panel, Grant hasn’t gotten the script yet, but will receive it on that weekend. When this is posted Grant will have already gotten the script.On Monday the 25th was the meeting with HELLbing.Season 1 Grant was reading The New 52 to learn about BA and TF. Season 2he stopped doing that so he can focus more on the acting. He also said “as someone growingup with superheroes you don’t want to get sick of it.” Grant’s energy really picked up when Kevin started talking about the firstepisode he directed. You can tell Grant loves working with him. Kevin feelsthe same way. When they are just talking Flash, it looks natural, less forced,less promo salesman, it looks like two friends talking as opposed to Viris or WA awkwardness. 

22.56 is where Kevin brings up “in every episode there is always a WA peptalk scene” it seemed they just glazed over it and Grant just nods “yup” in a repeated manner agreeing that it’s monotonous to do. 

Grant praises Jesse L Martin, being a fan of his because he bonded with himfirst and he was in Rent. Tom Canavagh is brought up and Grant says he ishis favorite actor to work with. Grant talked about Tom and Grant, the moviewas based on their real on set unfunny gags, Tom wrote and directed the shortmovie. After wrapping up Season 3 Grant had plans to do a movie and Tom filmedthe short movie in 2 days. The movie Grant was supposed be a part of “fell through”it could be referring to a recast because he wasn’t available at the time.Grant says he likes Time Travel and fans will ask him questions but he alwayssays he is confused. If the writers knew what they were writing about, I’msure Grant would have a clearer answer for the fans. He clearly likes it whenBarry time travels but when it’s used the right way.He loves Captain Cold and Wentworth as a “frienemy.” Big cheers for thatone and pan to the crowd to see smiles. Weather Wizard was brought up ashis favorite rogue. Mark Hamill as The Trickster.Kevin said his favorite season is the first one and that his favorite episodewas 1x15 where Barry time travels for the first time, Danielle was mentioned. He quotes the show as “Dawson’s Creek with capes.” Greg Berlanti wasa head writer on Dawson’s Creek. 28:17 is where Grant demonstrates how he does “the run” on the show. They don’tshoot his legs in frame. At the beginning they did with a treadmill.Grant is aware of what people are saying about his physic, body frame andKevin states “you have a runner’s body.” Grant agrees, “I have more of a runner’sbody than any other type.” Grant’s favorite episode is the Season 1 finale. Grant is very proud of theepisode and Kevin agrees as he brings up his infamous crying video he postedon youtube that gave him the opportunity to direct the show.Fan Q&A was around 30min mark. First question was: What is going to happenwith Nora Allen? Grant’s response is “she’s trapped in our time. We’re probablygoing to see Barry help her get back to her time.” Second question was about Grant’s education. He never graduated from ElonUniversity but was made an Alumni. He left after hisSophomore year to go on the road for “West Side Story.” Grant didn’t believehe would end up on TV, he thought he would be on the Broadway stage.Third question was about how they shoot each episode. Grant says they prepfor a week prior with table reads of the script, then shoot an episode for8-9 days. The network and studio watch it and make notes and cuts, during that time the SFX are added in. Every time an episode is finished it is 2 months agoso the show has a lot of time to omit, re shoot, polish what they want interms of what will make the cut. I don’t believe at all the show runnersare avoiding the feedback. They could easily incorporate so many things for future episodes it’sthat they choose not to. Do not tell me this is hard for them to do. Thisis how TV is run, especially a show like this. Grant says his favorite crossovers to shoot was possibly the last one inEarth X, but it was the hardest one, the Supergirl crossover was highlightedbecause of the location in LA. Grant lives in Venice Beach, Ca. Brandon Routhis his favorite actor to work with aside from Melissa and Stephen.Grant says working with Tom is a blessing and a challenge. He lovesbeing directed by Tom almost as good as being directed by Kevin. Flash has made him want to be a director but he doesn’t see it happeningwith the show. He calls it “impossible” but he mentions being interested indirecting an episode for their last season if “they let him.” The amountof control these show runners have is disgusting. Grant is a decent person and the star.He shouldn’t feel apprehensive if he wanted to direct, it’d be an honor if he did.He understands the character better than anyone. Kevin snuck in “before itall ends, who knows it might go on forever” Grant responds with “notforever.” At 38:10 the question is: how many more seasons do you think the show isgoing to do? He said at least 3 more, that takes it up to Season 7 but he saysanything could happen. Kevin adds “it’s strong in the ratings forThe CW.” Meaning if it was on a real network, it would be already cancelled.2 million viewers is not high. Right now with the adjusted they are at 3.0,with a demo of .6 thanks to the horrible Season 4 disaster Viris WA obsession. Kevin also added which surprisedme “the show will go on as long as Grant wants it to go.” Grant said he knew Kevin was gonna say that. Kevin says back it could go on for 26 seasons. Grant says sarcastically “imagine that?” Grant’s favorite musical is “Singin in the Rain” which got him interested in performing. The best part of being Flash is they give him his own superhero suit. Hementions wanting an authentic version of Christopher Reeves Superman suit.He likes wearing Star Labs and CCPD sweatshirts. The guy who asked the questionstarted asking Kevin a question and Grant was all “wtf wasn’t this supposedto be about me”? Everyone in the crowd laughed.His most difficult scene to film which was also his favorite was the scenewith Barry and his mom at the end of Season 1. His other most difficultscene was in Tom Canvanagh’s directed episode 3x19 where EmoBarry was. Kevincalled Grant with the wig “My Chemical Barry.” Grant said it was hard to shootbecause of the two conflicting emotions of playing Present Barry and FutureBarry wearing “a stupid wig.” Kevin compared EmoBarry to a “Hot Topic Employee.”Grant’s favorite Season is the first one, mainly because of how well the finale was constructed “so perfectly.”46:18 is where the question about which he prefers: his fictional WArelationship or his real relationship with Andrea. His exact words are: “Ienjoy my real relationship much more. Nothing against Candice, love to d-greatly.Yeah, it’s obviously very different. One is scripted for me and fictional.One plays itself out and I love her very much in real life. So, I think thoseare probably the biggest differences.” He doesn’t know what to say, the questionitself was lame, obviously there are huge separations from fiction and fact something the delusional doesn’t comprehend.Grant feels uncomfortable answering but he was polite and humored the guywho was obviously a huge Gr*ndice and WA stan. One of the 5 stans in there.When Grant does cons he doesn’t know how much it means to people and he’sgrateful for everything the fans give. He loves what he does. Grant loved filming the musical episode. No WA mentions. Especially singing “Superfriend”because he got to tap dance again. The crowd wants him to sing the song andGrant says he won’t. He thinks the heroes in real life are the troops, his mom because she was a single mother and supported his dreams.A fan asked “will we get a Run Nora, Run from Barry?” Grant credits Tom formaking that line iconic. Kevin agrees. Kevin says he did versions of theline in “The Runaway Dinosaur” because he loved it so much. Kevin said it is the show’s version of “May the force be with you.” No mention of “we are the flash” I wonder why….Grant answered what he has learned being The Flash and Grant credits Season1 again. He learned a lot from Barry’s empathy, his humility. He is a betterman than Grant is. 

Grant got another fan request shout out but in the videohe said “Are we ready? You’re not here but 8,000 other people are.” Crowdwent nuts. The same fan asked him if he wanted to play a Marvel superhero,which would he play. He said Spider-Man. Grant comments on what it’s like to be the star of a TV show. Even thoughhe knows he is the star in truth, he is very humble in saying it’s an ensembleshow. No mentions of CP or IW or WA. Hear that stans who stalk this blog? Grant is too much of a gentlemen to bait you demons.Grant’s most embarrassing scene was when he slide across the floor in 4x02“Mixed Signals” paying homage to Risky Business. He says because he has “chickenlegs.” He also says in the finale when Wally comes back he dropped 6 champagne glasses in 2 takes. It’s included in the bloopers. He says if he goes to the Vancouver Con he will bringhis dogs. Grant says he watches when people on set run and walk and compare it to howhe does it unintentionally. He’s met people in life that want to race him.He feels like he is a fast runner in real life, but he admits out loud hedoesn’t like running. When they are using science jargon, Grant doesn’t know what they are talking about unless he googles it. Grant loves playing the villain more than the hero. Savitar was a lot of fun for him to play. It could be because he loved working with Danielle more closely but the show will not allow any Snowbarry mentions, he’s there to plug WA, it would destroy WA as a whole and he knows it.The last couple of minutes they were talking about Grant’s famous slide into scenes, he does it at the last minute of the interview. Do with the information as you will. Grant has highs and lows here. Whenthe lows are pretty low it’s jarring when they are high it’s obvious wherehis heart is. He is a good guy that doesn’t deserve the bad treatment he’sbeen getting. Whether it’s about his character, CP’s repeated abuse of him and body shamming. Grant is nothing but friendly and takes the punches with thepraise. I hope he does more cons in the future, maybe when he is more rested and less fatigued.

[dragonnan]

Speaking at a panel at the London Film and Comic-Con today, the 41-year-old said that there could only be one character his detective could be coupled with in the BBC hit series.“Now, there’s only one choice, isn’t there? Come on,” he told the audience of fans, before jokingly adding: “Doctor Watson.” He continued on a more serious note, explaining: “I think it would have to be Molly, wouldn’t it? Love for him, after all, would be thinking more - maybe that’s asking too much - maybe thinking as much of someone else as he thinks of himself.”

Headcanon Times:

I know everyone, including the actors, have their opinions about the characters but this is one where I fully, fully agree with Ben.  I want to be clear, I don’t watch Sherlock for romance - though romance, in the broader sense, is integral within the series as a whole.  It is heightened and artistic and deep and exciting and adventurous and funny and witty and terrifying and, yes, heartbreakingly romantic, too.

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I had always viewed Irene as Sherlock’s first real exposure to love.  I think there was an immediate attraction and, possibly (without knowing a thing of his history and only going on what the series implied) his first physical experience as well.  I’m very much in the camp that believes he and Irene had a physical encounter after he rescued her from being executed.  I think he pined after her for many years but I also find it telling that he rarely engaged her no matter how often she texted him.  I think he didn’t know what to do with his emotions regarding her and, as has been his method regarding strong emotions, he set them to the side rather than face them head on.  “You didn't win, you lost. Look what you did to her. Look what you did to yourself, all those complicated little emotions, I lost count. Emotional context, it destroys you, every time.”

If the man Sherlock has become is his memory of Eurus then it’s no wonder than his view on emotions would be skewed towards seeing them as a crutch rather than a strength.  His connections with people were severely damaged between his two siblings - Eurus for her own inability to healthily relate to others plus, you know, murdering his best friend - and Mycroft, for keeping that truth hidden and for teaching Sherlock that human connection is something to despise.  At least Mycroft has begun to see how badly he’d wronged his brother, in that regard.

When he met Irene, he’d already begun opening himself up to humanity again.  John was a healer beyond his abilities as a doctor.  He was crucial to pulling Sherlock back from the edge -possibly - just in time.  It’s terrifying to imagine what would have happened to Sherlock had John not entered his life when he did.  Because of John’s influence and heart, Sherlock’s emotional walls developed a significant crack.  So, that, by the time he’d met Irene, he was already in a place where he could be blindsided by the power of these newly reborn feelings.  I think there’s even room to speculate that Sherlock’s emotions towards Irene were so incredibly powerful BECAUSE he hadn’t had much practice with them, yet.  To use the familiar cliche it was like gaining sight where once he’d been blind.  He was overwhelmed and, as much as Sherlock could be, nearly sick with his infatuation. (bear in mind, still, this is speculation.  Sherlock has always maintained an outer cool for a good portion of the series and there are very few times he’s shown his chaotic feelings - but we’ll get to that...).  

We know Molly, by this point, has had an ongoing crush on him and it is implied, based on his response to her, that Christmas, that he possibly wasn’t truly aware of that.  Or, at least, not the depth of it - given his shock at reading her card.  It makes me wonder, then, what, if any, real experience he’s had with attention from someone who views him in a sexual way.  Obviously, with John’s blog making him a celebrity, that would have begun to change quite quickly - not that Sherlock has ever had the desire for such distractions (that he’d have felt desire, in and of itself, is another matter entirely.  Ben has stated that he did not view Sherlock as cut off from things such as arousal - but that he’d have repressed them in order to put all of his energies into the Work). When he’d believed Irene to be dead, he came very close to using again - or, possibly, something even worse.  There isn’t time to explore what he may actually have done because she revealed herself soon afterwards.  It is clear, though, that his care for her developed very fast.  He’d met her just one time - was outsmarted by her - drugged by her - and then began receiving repeated suggestive texts from her.  And, shortly thereafter, he composed an incredibly moving and emotional sonnet for her.  Even Ben isn’t certain whether what Sherlock felt was more love or more lust.  I don’t know that it is always one or the other as so often those things are intertwined - though possibly weighted more heavily on the physical.  In any event, without delving too far into Irene’s relationship, it feels as though they have little to build on, between them, beyond the physical.  They play cat and mouse.  They have a game of outwitting one another.  But beyond wordplay and the occasional whip...  Irene would never be a true partner.  She has a life she loves and a career that, by its nature, does not mesh with the sort of partnership needed between a man and wife (not that I think she’d ever want something as domestic as that).  On top of all of that, she already has a steady female partner that she obviously loves and Sherlock is an aberration for her.  He’s a temporary delight but I cannot see any scenario where she’d want to be at his side, through ups and downs, falling off the wagon, getting lost in his work, family dramas... Well, point in fact, she never was.        

So, now to the part of this musing that I’ve been building towards.

I gave myself a series of questions and I’ve spent a few weeks, actually, thinking about them.  Faithful characterization is really important to me.  I want to see the honesty of how a character is represented without overlaying intent just because I WANT to see it.  (to be clear, this is not a comment on fanfiction or various pairings or anything of the sort.  This is me trying to parse the authentic character, based on what I've interpreted on screen, for my own creative process).  

Sherlock's relationship with John is a powerful friendship that has laid the groundwork towards developing his emotional balance. While he will always be a bit of an arse – suspicious of overt emotional displays – in short, he'll be himself – he has also warmed up in ways that would not have come about otherwise.

Molly is the first person that Sherlock, at least on screen, apologizes to. The reason being for his callous cruelty when he chose to deduce the reason for a gift she'd brought – correct motivations but incorrect recipient in that he hadn't connected the dots in that the gift was for him. Instantly abashed for causing her humiliation, he apologized, begged her forgiveness, and kissed her cheek.

Of course, Sherlock now starts to exploit her infatuation because, still, he doesn't really get what love is all about. He doesn't seem to see what it is to emotionally hurt someone because he's cut off proper access to his own heart. In fact, to leap ahead, it is amazing character growth to contrast his early interactions with her – faking interest in her hair and make up just to have access to bodies – against his honest pleading with her to say “I love you” and then having an absolute melt-down when he realized Eurus had used him to emotionally bludgeon Molly.

“You look sad, when you think, he can't see you.” Molly is one of the few people that Sherlock cannot bluff his way around. But this moment also reveals that she is one of the few people he trusts enough to show his real feelings. Yes, he will show John those feelings as well, but in this circumstance he simply couldn't afford to. But he had to be able to relieve some of that emotional stress with someone and Molly was the one he turned to – even if he wasn't initially aware that he was doing so.

Sherlock Holmes: [waiting for Molly in the darkened lab, she enters and is startled when he begins to speak] You're wrong, you know. You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you. But you were right. I'm not okay.

Molly Hooper: Tell me what's wrong.

Sherlock Holmes: Molly... I think I'm going to die.

Molly Hooper: What do you need?

Sherlock Holmes: If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am... would you still want to help me?

Molly Hooper: What do you need?

Sherlock Holmes: You.

When Sherlock prepared to fake his death, one of the few people he implicitly trusted to help him was Molly. Not only did he trust her, he approached her in a very open and emotional way. He didn't simply ask her for help. I've thought a lot about the above lines and Sherlock's build up and what it all meant. What I end up with, basically, is him asking would she help him even if he wasn't the near legend that he has become... if he were the lie he's going to be forced to assume in order to make John think he's suicidal. And Molly doesn't hesitate. She will follow him into hell. And I think this might be a moment where Sherlock was still unaware of how MUCH she was devoted to him. Thus his hesitancy. And, yet, he trusts her completely.

Later, Sherlock spent time living with her while in hiding and sleeping in her room while she took the spare room. “We agreed he needed the space”. I don't, however, believe there was anything intimate going on between them and just given Molly's comments on it, it seems as though it was more awkward for her than anything.

Molly was the one Sherlock asked to go investigating when John was angry with him. He was very quick to understand that it was a one time thing because she was engaged. This was the second time he kissed her cheek; and followed it by saying she deserved every happiness. It's suggestible that he acknowledges her feelings for him by saying not every man she falls for can be a sociopath. Of course, one could read that he's referring to Moriarty but after such a tender moment that would seem a little crass. Though, this IS Sherlock and likely he would think that was a kindness. I find everything about this incredibly interesting. For one, though I've never thought there was anything romantic between John and Sherlock – there also were never any questions that John would investigate with Sherlock regardless as to whom he was seeing/married to. It simply wasn't a factor. For Molly, however, her being with someone else means she can't possibly do this with Sherlock. Why? Because of her feelings for him and, more, him recognizing and respecting that he cannot compromise that. While it doesn't say anything about his feelings for her, beyond friendship, it DOES show that he cares about her and won't ask her to do anything that makes her uncomfortable (another step forwards from series 1 Sherlock). It does, also, reveal something else. That if Molly hadn't been engaged, Sherlock would have welcomed her as a partner and that he'd enjoyed his day with her. Even if they weren't able to go out for chips after – his invitation.

The two people asked to be godparents of Rosie were Sherlock and Molly. If John also died, Sherlock and Molly would instantly be co-parents. I just wanted to throw that out there.

Molly is one of the people entrusted to look after Sherlock when he falls off the wagon. It's a short list.

When Sherlock is dying, it's a mental version of Molly who appears and saves his life. Now, for me, that IS telling in that John is the doctor and yet Molly is the one Sherlock's frantic brain latches onto first.

Finally, as was mentioned earlier, we have the infamous “I love you”. We've seen Sherlock fake emotion – fake tears – fake fear and very skillfully, too. He's gotten one over on John many times. With Molly, though, I feel as though he's learned a hard lesson about hurting her. He's trying to do better by her so he gives her his genuine feelings. And, certainly, in this moment he can't afford otherwise. He believes she'll die and Molly will not say the words unless he does first. “Say it like you mean it” may well have been stated “say it so I could believe it.” And, in fact, the first time he says it, she doesn't appear to believe it. She can tell when he lies and, I think for a long time now, she can tell when he's faking kindness to manipulate her. This is where my honest belief about this comes into play. That in order to get her to say the words to him, he had to speak truthfully. An I think that was why it was so tremendously devastating. It opened a wound he hadn't realized existed until that moment – something far deeper and FAR more demanding than that long ago emotion he'd felt for Irene. Irene would never be compromised by a declaration of love. It's possible she may even find it tragic because part of me thinks Irene, too, finds emotional investment to be compromising. I actually think there's a lot of evidence to support that. With Molly, though; who has carried this steady love for so many years – have carried Sherlock through his tragedies, has been emotional support and safety... he cannot wedge open his heart like this for the moment it takes to “save her”, only to close it once more. This is something that has ramifications for the both of them and there is every chance this forced enlightenment comes at the cost of something he wasn't given the time to figure out and act upon. In finally figuring out he loves her he may have lost her in that same breath.

If ever there is a season 5 I wonder that this would even be explored. It's hard to say. But if this is, really, the end of the show it is just as easy to see where it COULD lead.   

[vampiricallyinclined]

Prompts: “Make me” & “Bite me” & “I’m too sober for this” & “I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me to kiss you under the mistletoe and I will punch you”

Tagging: @miyakokurono (requester)

“My, my, don’t you look ravishing,” an overly confident voice called from behind you, causing you to roll your eyes instantly. You couldn’t see him, and you refused to give him the satisfaction of turning to face him, but you could imagine the playful smirk that was no doubt gracing his lips, and the way his eyes were bound to be tracing your figure as they often did. But this time, perhaps, you could excuse it. Even you had to admit you looked pretty damn fantastic, and the efforts you had gone to for this Christmas party were in no way being overlooked.

Perhaps that was what had driven Klaus towards you, as opposed to simply admiring you from afar as he tended to do. Perhaps the addition of others, the fact that there were other men who were more than willing to make their thoughts of your attire well known, was enough to push him forwards, despite the doubts and fears that usually had him terrified of approaching you in anything but a friendly manner.

Of course, that’s not to say you hadn’t noticed his interest, even if it was kept quiet. Having been friends with Rebekah for a while now, you had come across her half-brother on plenty of occasions, and while her other siblings had no issue befriending you, Klaus had kept his distance for a while now. His eyes would rake up and down your figure with a longing look in his eyes, but he would quickly push it away, taking himself out of the equation by leaving the room whenever temptation got to be too much.

No, Klaus was not a subtle man, even if he was somehow delusional enough to believe he was, and while at first his interest was somewhat intriguing, after a while it simply became irritating. He would never act upon his supposed interest, of that you were sure. Even with the occasional flirtatious word here and there, you knew that the thought of something ever actually happening between you both terrified him, and you had accepted that long ago.

“Niklaus,” you sighed when he seemed to take his place beside you, watching the guests as they milled about, drinking and socialising with just a touch too much grace to be natural. “The party looks good,” you conceded, raising your glass of champagne to your lips as you glanced over at him for a mere moment, smiling somewhat when you noticed his lips turn upwards as he noticed your glance. “Rebekah should be happy with the turnout.”

“It does look good,” he nodded in agreement, the smile refusing to leave his lips, as if he had won a bet that had never even been placed. “But not half as good as you,” he practically purred.

Choking somewhat on the champagne you had only just taken a sip of, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the tackiness of the line. “Wow, I’m too sober for this,” you spoke into your glass before downing the remnants of the sweet drink.

Without a second’s pause, Klaus had managed to sweep two more glasses of champagne from a waiter passing by, holding one out for you to replace the now empty glass in your hand with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re not trying to drug me or something, are you?” you asked teasingly, taking the glass from his hand and happily pulling the spilt strawberry from the rim before popping it into your mouth with a grin of satisfaction.

“And ruin my chances at a kiss under the mistletoe? My, Miss Y/L/N, it’s as if you do not know me at all,” Klaus replied with ease, raising his sights above you in a deliberate manner that had your own following his with dread. There above you, as if placed by the devil himself, or, more likely, your meddling best friend, sat a sprig of mistletoe, berries and all, hanging obnoxiously above your heads.

You could have considered it to be a coincidence were it anywhere else amongst the house, but you knew better. This particular spot was one you had found at the Halloween party, and was not one often burdened by many others. It held a spectacular view of the party, allowing you to see everyone as they danced and talked the night away, whilst still giving you enough distance from the hub of it all that you could still hear your own thoughts, and the words of anyone you might actually want to talk to. But what was even more condemning was the fact that only one person had caught you there at Halloween, and that had been the dastardly blonde woman you called your best friend.

“Klaus,” you started, giving him a pointed look, despite the way your lips had upturned in amusement, betraying the serious expression you were going for, “I don’t care about tradition, you try and get me to kiss you under the mistletoe and I will punch you.”

“You know, that might just be worth it,” Niklaus spoke, tilting his head as if in mock consideration. “I think I might have to take my chances there, love.” He concluded with a dazzling smirk that had your smile wavering instantly. There was a chance, a damn good chance, that you had gotten yourself into far deeper water than you had expected. Never before had he ever gone this far with the small flirtations he had sent your way, he had always backed away far before now, and you were suddenly terrified at the idea that this could actually go further than it already had.

“Oh, bite me,” you spoke in an attempt to appear as cool and casual as usual, despite the deep blush that was certain to be adorning your cheeks at his attention. Taking a long sip from your drink as Klaus bided his time, waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t choke again before speaking.

“Before our first kiss?” Klaus spoke with a raised eyebrow, a look of utter bemusement on his features as he turned to face you properly. “My, my, Y/N, you do surprise me,” he chuckled, delighting as your blush only deepened at his words. It was a rare thing for him to actually get such a reaction out of you, particularly of late as his words had seemed to almost lose their meaning with the ease in which they came out, so the sight was one he instantly absorbed, never wanting to forget just how much his words could affect you.

“Oh, shut up,” you spoke in a surprisingly soft stutter, your eyes focusing on the party below you if only to give you something other than the smirking man at your side to look at. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant.”

“You’re right, of course,” Klaus sighed, and for a moment, just a moment, you thought he might give in and let you have this one without a fight. Maybe he was ready to back off as usual, return to some awkward level of friendship that you knew so very well. “Biting must be at least third date material,” he joked, and you were surprised by how relaxed it made you. You fell into laughter easily, shaking your head lightly at his words as his chuckles resounded around you.

You had to admit, despite the utter nervousness and anxiety that he brought to you at the thought of a mistletoe kiss, or for that matter, any flirtation at all, there was something about his attention that, even after so very long, made you feel good inside. It wasn’t that he was paying you attention, it was that almost from the moment you both met, he had shown no attention to any other. His sights had been set on you, and even if waiting for what seemed like forever had its boring moments, there were moments like this, few and far between, that had you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was a chance something might happen. And then he proved that.

“Now, am I going to get that kiss, or what?” he prompted, his hand gently guiding your arm away from the view until you were facing him, your blush there and ready for him to see. But you weren’t so sure. Was he serious? Was this just another flirtation? Or, worse of all, was this just some little joke that you were meant to laugh at as a friend?

“Make me,” you challenged him, leaving it in his ballpark to make what ever move was to be made. Your eyes met his and the smirk that had played on your lips at your words, slipped away at the sheer fire and determination that was set in his gaze as he looked down at you.

“Happily,” he uttered barely above a whisper, a hand reaching up to caress your cheek with surprising tenderness as he gradually lowered himself towards you. He gave you every opportunity to back away, from the increasingly slow pace in which he descended to the suddenly uncertain looks he threw your way, as if to say, ‘if you want to back out, now is the time’. But you didn’t back away, you did not recoil as he feared you might.

Your hand slipped over his, keeping it pressed to your cheek in silent approval and finally, after what felt like eons, his lips met yours with a mixture of softness and apprehension, with just a touch of passion behind them, as if a hint of what lay locked away for now. His lips were rough, despite the gentle nature with which they moved against yours, but somehow it just added something to the kiss; a sincerity and authenticity that had you practically melting against him, entirely wrapped up in the feeling.

You parted with large grins on your faces, your eyes opening almost reluctantly, as if in doing so you might lose the blissful feeling that had overtaken you, but the feeling remained.

“Is this the part where you punch me?” Klaus raised an eyebrow as his eyes shone down at you, brimming with a happiness you had not seen there before. Laughter fell from your lips at the suggestion, and your hand slipped under his, taking it in yours as you gently guided it from your cheek until they sat together between you, still joined together.

“Don’t tempt me, mister,” you teased in return, a smirk trying and failing to break through your smile, leaving you to drop your gaze for a moment at how your face was betraying you. “You did take an awfully long time to get around to kissing me.”

[kennyrobots]

my OKC profile Q&A (circa 2020).

looking through my old OKC profile edits (because i went down a rabbit hole) (i’m also unsure of how i got there, but such is the nature of rabbit holes), and i came across an old Q&A that i actually put onto my actual factual profile at one point. i thought it’d be a kinda-cute and somewhat-funny way to express my personality on the thing, instead of the boring ol’ “lists of shit i like, i hope you find something in there that we have in common so that we can both get off of this hellsite”. (as you would expect, i was quite alone in that opinion.) (enjoy. or don’t.) "I don't know what I think - I haven't written it down yet." I've loved this phrase ever since I first heard it - I will swear up and down that I stole this from Ambrose Bierce, but Google insists that I made it up. Didn't know that was possible in this day and age, but here we are. Here we ALL are. //////////////////////////////////// Self-summaries are passé. Let's do a Q&A instead.

Q: Where are you from? A: Philippines, originally. U.S. Naval Hospital Subic Bay, to be exact. Virginia, from 1999, up until 2016.

Q: So what are you, then? A: My daddy Mississippi, my momma Mabayuan - you mix that Negro with that Pinoy, got this Flushing bama.

Q: What do you do for a living? A: *looks at sidebar where job is listed* Hmm. ...You know the guy that goes "Ow!" on the Black Box song "Everybody, Everybody"? That's me. Please stream that song - I need my 37¢ check by the end of the month.

Q: Any siblings? A: I have a younger sister in the Army. Almost had a twin brother, but I defeated him in a high-stakes game of craps while we were both in the womb, and he had to stay behind. (He was quite salty about that, but them's the breaks, Kevin.)

Q: Are you actually 6'2"? A: You got me - I'm actually 5'9", but I really believe in myself for those last five inches. Those low-hanging tree branches randomly smacking me in the head must be figments of my imagination.

Q: Why'd you move to New York? A: Three reasons. 1) Go! Go! Curry. Worth the visit. 2) I read MFA vs. NYC once, and made the wrong choice in retrospect. 3) Chasing a woman. Also the wrong choice in retrospect, but I wouldn't be here otherwise, so that might've turned out to be a blessing in disguise, if I find someone special out here on these (digital) streets.

Q: How was your 2019? A: Good and bad. Got out of my comfort zone (especially during the back half of the year, when I started taking dating more seriously), met some people I liked, learned a lot about myself. All that was good. On the other hand, 2019 was also the same year that I learned that "Deutschlandfunk" has nothing to do with German funk music. Still kinda devastated about that.

Q: What are your biggest goals in life? A: Meet a sweet and funny woman. Get married to her, have exactly 2.94 kids. Publish a book at some point. Figure out where to settle down, buy a house there, start filling it with late-stage capitalist garbage. Mow the lawn on a regular basis, in order to keep the Homeowner's Association off my ass. Buy more records. Wear a honeybee outfit for a whole day, while singing Unknown Mortal Orchestra's "Hunnybee" to myself. Finally clean out the garage, after the third time that my wife asks. Travel to Buenos Aires, to see if Smithsonian Magazine was correct. Convince my wife that no, honey - I didn't fall asleep during our daughter's ballet recital. I only put my head back and closed my eyes in deep appreciation for the sublime art I saw onstage. Y'know - the usual.

Q: Karaoke song of choice? A: I grew up on 90s/00s R&B, so virtually all songs from those eras are in play. Gun to my head, I'd probably choose Zhané's "Request Line" for 2020, mostly because I want to figure out how to harmonize with myself. Unless I'm drunk - then I'm just going to slur and stammer and yell my way through "Hard In Da Paint" until I pass out, or am stopped by force.

Q: Why do you have cornrows? A: A part of the bet that I made with my almost-twin Kevin, actually - the loser had to remain in the womb, while the winner had to get cornrows at the age of 35, no matter how much (or little) hair he had on his head. And since I am an honorable man, here we are. In a very real sense, both of us lost.

Q: Are you for real? A: At the risk of putting Descartes before the horse, I think so. A few years ago, I did struggle with the concept of reality, but trying - and failing - to walk through a wall "because it's not really there" quickly changes your opinion on that.

Q: ... A: I mean, I'm actually a bot. *beep* *boop* Feed me your memes.

Q: Your profile sucks. A: Not a question, but I'll allow it. *clears throat* Dear Sir or Madam: You may be correct.

Q: Why consider you, then? A: In a moment of...let's go with "curiosity", I changed my search settings and looked at my competition. If nothing else, I appear to have a level of self-awareness that a majority of other fellas here on OKC lack, so there's that. (Seriously - I read through some of these profiles, and I wanted to melt onto the floor and die, because I know that they're being completely serious. You ladies are absolute SAINTS for slogging through alla that.)

Q: Aren't you concerned that you'll have nothing to talk about during a date, if you put a lot of it on here? A: So I've been in the process of what I call "exploring the contents of my mind", and I've found that I have A LOT to say, even if the majority of it is essentially nonsensical. The day that I run out of stuff to comment on is the day that you should walk out on me during a date. I would fully support that, even as my heart breaks in real-time, Ralph Wiggum-style.

Q: Fine. Aren't you concerned that you're giving away too much up front? A: All joking aside, I actually really do believe in honesty, transparency and authenticity, especially with my partner. One of the things that I want to do is always be able to tell you the truth, or at least, my version of the truth. That's how we develop trust. I don't want anything I think to be off-limits to you, because if I start keeping small stuff from you, it's only a matter of time before I start keeping LARGER stuff from you, y'know? Besides - if we're going to be together, I want you to know all about me, because I want to know all about you. And yes - that means knowing what you think. It's important to me. So, I reciprocate, and apparently I'm doing it first, completely unprompted. It's only right.

Q: You write a lot. A: I do that sometimes, yes.

Q: What's the deal with the whole Ambrose Bierce thing? A: I believe in giving credit where credit is due. I'm not an Instagram comedy account, after all.

Q: But what if he didn't write it, and you actually DID come up with that quote? A: ...Possible, but unlikely. I'm honestly not smart enough to come up with something that clever.

Q: It's actually not as clever as you think. A: Yeah, that happens sometimes.

Q: Any parting comment? A: I wish everyone would've told me how hot I would run all the time as an adult. Seriously - all this extraneous body heat is nonsense. Balls are sweaty at the worst possible times.

Q: Good god. A: ...I mean, in the words of one of the great philosophers of our time, "I don't care what the people say - I'm gonna love you anyway." Timeless. (y’all - i am SO happy that i’m finally able to format this thing in the way i’d always intended.)

[romanoartsless]

I’m getting better at posting regularly but don’t get used to it because I’ll probably end up procrastinating again.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter 28

The guards threw her to the floor and she grunted as her body hit it. The room was dark, but she knew exactly where she was. She stood up and faced where she knew the throne was. “Hello Bartholomew.”

The king lit a match that illuminated his pale face. Both pairs of dark brown eyes met until he stood up and lit each candle meticulously placed around the room. “And hello to you, Edie.”

“Don’t call me that. Only she called me that.”

He froze for a second, knowing exactly who she was referencing. “Well then, Edith, I’d like your help with something.”

“What?”

His breath extinguished the flame coming from the match before he replied, “I want you to help me find the last magic user- for the competition.”

Pure rage filled her veins at the statement. “Are you serious?! Do you seriously think I’d help you?! They’re all dead, Bartholomew! I of all people should know! All my loved ones were killed! I’d die before I handed one over to you.”

The heartbreak Edith’s words caused were clear to see . Ache and some sort of remorse came from his face. “I’m trying to redeem myself in my own strange way. I let you forget the past, I let you move out east to escape persecution for your lineage, and I gave you special protection because we all know if Shaw ever got his hands on you he’d kill you immediately.”

Edith knew he was right about everything he said, no matter how much she hated to admit it. Her name was Edith Scilia, a mortal born into a magic using family. The folks in east Novak were much more forgiving of her name than the westerners. They actually admired it if she dared to tell them what it was.

He eyes weren’t black or yellow or purple or red, but instead a dark brown that matched her hair and skin. It was a mere coincidence she wasn’t born with magic. Even though it was rare, a magic user could give birth to a mortal child, whether it was because they were a potential soul partner or just the luck of the draw.

Deep in her heart she knew she should’ve directed her hate for the king towards Shaw; he was a Petrov, she was Scilia, it only made sense, but her veins still bubbled every time she heard the name Bartholomew Dobrev with even an ounce of positive connotation. With what he’d done to her- her cousin- he didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

Edith missed many things from the days of magic. She missed her siblings taunting her for her mortality, she missed wishing she’d been born with the same bright yellow eyes as all but her and one other Scilia had, but most of all she missed her cousin- Esther.

She could still close her eyes and perfectly see her with her similarly dark hair and pale skin, a great contrast from Edith’s dark skin. If she tried hard enough she could still hear her say, “Edie, if I have a daughter I’m going to name her after you.”

“Esther, that isn’t necessary.”

“No no Edie, I swear. Caterina Edith, doesn’t it have a nice ring to it?”

She’d hesitated, hating to admit she liked the way the name sounded. “I guess.”

Edith often thought about the girl. She wondered what had happened to her after the fate of Esther and Victor. Caterina was twenty, almost twenty-one, she should’ve been going out, having fun with friends, not being isolated from all of society. Edith hadn’t heard about her is seven years. Victor had been her only source of information and she didn’t dare to ask anything anything from Cecelia or her Delikov namesake.

She rushed Caterina out of her mind. The king was the last person she ever wanted to insinuate her existence to. “No matter how much you’ve tried to buy my forgiveness, I owe you nothing.”

Although the disappointment was obvious in the king’s chestnut eyes he still said, “Alright, I tried, but I do understand why you won’t forgive me. I let Shaw kill-.”

“You understand nothing!”

“I understand everything, Edith! I lost people, too! Do I have to remind you of her?! What she was to me?!”

“Burn in hell, Dobrev!”

He turned his back to her, walking back to his throne before finally sitting down into it. His elbow was now set on the armrest and his face now rested on his palm, a strand of night black hair falling into his face. The same face that used that used a cunning smirk to hide the pain he’d harbored for more than twenty years.

Light poured into the room when the doors swung open and the guards came in to grab Edith. She tried to fight them off: kicking, squirming, biting, all of which led to no avail. As the men dragged her out, the last thing Edith heard came from the king’s mouth. “I guess the old wives tales are true,” he said. “No one holds a grudge like a Scilia.”

Chapter 29

Only on rare occasions did Jackie ever go into Blackwing’s treasured, abandoned apartment complex. It was her sister’s thing to enjoy and she didn’t want to trample all over it. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Blackwing asked. “This building’s huge, I’m sure you’ll be able to find some privacy.”

“It’s your thing, Blackwing,” she replied as she kissed her sister’s forehead, “and just because we’re related doesn’t mean I’m entitled to everything you enjoy.”

“Be safe!” she hollered out as Jackie headed to the door.

“Do you expect me to be dumb enough to get myself in danger?”

“No, but you’re cocky enough to get yourself in trouble.”

It made her chuckle, her sister’s comment did. Blackwing might’ve had a sweet disposition, but her tongue was as sharp as Jackie’s or Silvertongue’s or Caterina’s. They all might’ve had different personalities, but the shared environment gave them all similarities.

Before the door closed, Jackie made sure to call out, “I’ll be safe!”

* * *

Amber Lynn made sure everyone in the Ranez manor was asleep before sneaking out. She’d snuck out many times before and only got caught once. Her father was much more forgiving of the incident than her mother. Nonetheless, she still took the risk.

She wore the most drab thing she could find in her closet, not wanting to be recognized as a member of a high family. I was one of her night gowns, the only one that looked like it could be wearable outside the bedroom. The fabric was khaki with no pattern, but it did have a string wrapped around the waist. She also wore a cloak over it since the night in Novak could easily reach freezing temperatures.

To where she was going, Amber Lynn didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed to escape the spotlight every once in awhile to maintain her sanity.

* * *

Jackie caught a glimpse of her reflection in a glass window. Her hair had grown out to shoulder length, much longer than the good medium she’d found in between her jaw and shoulders. She made a mental note to cut it when she eventually got the chance.

The thought crossed her mind of what she might look like if she’d chopped it all off to jaw length. She imagined it’d make the men of Novak quiver in fear. Jackie quite enjoyed the thought of men fearing her.

Even with her distraction, Jackie still heard someone running through the streets behind her. It was a thief she assumed. They’d probably tried to pick her pocket, but Jackie was quicker, smarter than any measly pick pocket.

She took the small pistol she always kept in her bag, loaded it up, and prepared to hunt down and confront the thief who was dumb enough to think they could outsmart Jackie Crow.

* * *

Amber Lynn had been roaming the streets for hours before she saw the figure. Anxiety pulsed through her the moment her eyes did so much as glanced towards them. Her short legs picked up speed, running from the fear of confrontation.

She was too busy sprinting and she hadn’t even noticed the foot set out to trip her. It did its job, causing her to crash into the ground. She didn’t even dare to look at her hands and knees, knowing they’d be cut, bloody, and dirty. Instead she simply looked up to the direction in which the cause of her fall came from, but she didn’t see a person’s face when her gaze went upwards. Amber Lynn was now staring down the barrel of a gun.

* * *

“What’d you take?”

“I’m so sorry.” The hood of the cloak covered the face of the thief, but by the sound of the voice and the hands that shot up into the air Jackie could assume she was female.

“What did you take?” She made sure to enunciate each word sharply this time.

The girl looked terrified to say the least. Her voice trembled each times she spoke. Jackie knew she wouldn’t get far if all the girl was likely to do in this situation was wet her pants, so she put the pistol back into her bag.

She immediately became less tense than before, even with Jackie still looming over her. “I swear to the gods I didn’t take anything.”

Jackie’s heart told her to believe the girl, her voice sounded like she was only a year or so younger than her, but her gut told her the opposite. “What’s your name?”

The girl hesitated for a bit. She knew she had to build trust in order to get out of immediate danger. “Amber Lynn Ranez.”

Disbelief strung up in the Crow. No member of any high family would dare freely roam the streets of Novak at night, they couldn’t get showered with attention if everyone to give it to them was asleep. “Tell me your real name.”

“I did.”

“Show me your face and I might believe you.”

She lifted the hood away from her face and allowed it to fall back. Her hazel eyes looked up at Jackie and she got a look at her delicate, freckled face. She had cleanly cut,shoulder length, blond hair. Even in the scrubs she wore, it was still clear she had money and class. “Why should I believe you’re really a Ranez?”

The girl unclasped a pendant from around her neck and handed it off to Jackie. She took it into her hand and was taken aback at the weight of it. The charm was heavier than she’d expected. Her fingers grazed over the orange gem and red over the inscription on the back that read, “Ranez”. The wear of it seemed too authentic to be a forgery.

It was one of the high family medallions. They went out of vogue decades ago when the Dobrev and Delikov ones went missing. Everyone assumed they’d been stolen and sold on the black market. The rings then became more important. “Alright Ranez,” Jackie said, throwing the medallion back at Amber Lynn, “I’ll cut you some slack.”

The blond bounced off the ground, clasping the necklace back on. Relief flooded her gentle face. She was maybe a head shorter than Jackie even when she stood as tall as she could. She extended her hand out to the Crow and chirped, “And your name is?”

“Jackie. Jackie Crow.”

Now that Amber Lynn stood before her she saw the little details on her face she hadn’t noticed before. She truly was a beautiful girl, with the freckles that were splattered all over her face and body. Jackie hadn’t noticed it before, but some of the freckles creeped onto her shoulders and neck and she wanted nothing more than to trace her fingers across them to see what constellations she could make.

A snap came straight into her face as Amber Lynn shouted, “Hello? Are you still there?”

“Huh? Oh sorry, I just lost my train of thought.”

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

“You never blank out, Ranez?”

“Oh I do, but I don’t let a pretty girl distract me. If I really were a thief, I would’ve stripped you clean.”

Jackie released a nervous laugh. Had her stare really been that obvious? Apparently. “You shouldn’t be bad mouthing someone with a pistol and short temper.”

“You shouldn’t be threatening someone whose spit is more valuable than anything you have.”

She knew she would get nowhere with Amber Lynn now. The two of them would likely continue with their banter if they kept at it. “Go.”

“Huh?”

“Go. I won’t tell anyone I saw you, I’m assuming you snuck out without permission.”

The girl halted for a second, but eventually skipped her way through the streets. The sight reminded Jackie of the way Blackwing skipped everywhere she went. Amber Lynn turned around before becoming out of range and shouted, “Oh, Ms. Crow, I must say, it’s not very smart of you to stick a gun in everyone’s face.”

[newstfionline]

Do These 5 Emotionally Intelligent Things Within 5 Minutes Of Meeting Someone

By Harvey Deutschendorf, Fast Company, July 18, 2017

What’s the point of networking if not to get other people to like you? Sure, you need new contacts to see you as interesting, competent, professional, and potentially valuable to them--but if they don’t also find you likable, nobody will feel motivated to reach out later and work with you.

The reason why all comes down to emotional intelligence, the set of skills and qualities that allow people to form deeper, closer relationships with others. Likability is a key ingredient in that, and its career benefits are pretty obvious.

But when it comes to first impressions, you don’t always have much time to get people to like you. So here are a few straightforward things that the most emotionally intelligent people do to cement their likability from the get-go:

1. Show genuine enthusiasm for meeting. Especially in business contexts, some people’s demeanors while making introductions are terse and serious. That might feel formal and “appropriate,” but it’s not always the most emotionally intelligent thing to do. Neither is laying it on thick with a forced grin and over-the-top proclamations about how absolutely wonderful it is to meet.

Just be natural. Pretend you’re meeting a sibling’s new significant other at a social occasion. Give your best, authentic smile. Open up your posture so your legs are at a wide stance but you’re relaxed. Make eye contact, offer a firm handshake. It’s that easy.

2. Offer a compliment. If you notice something about the person you’ve just met that you can compliment them about, do it right away. Maybe there’s a recent accomplishment you’re aware of that you could mention. If not, ask a question or two that can lead to information you can later compliment them on.

Emotionally intelligent people are great listeners right from the moment they make acquaintances. They know that most people love to talk about themselves and will like and appreciate anybody who’ll earnestly listen. The problem is that most of the time--especially in the moment or two after meeting someone--we’re too busy thinking about our own responses and can’t wait for the next opportunity to jump in. This tendency is natural, and it sometimes gets worse when we’re nervous.

So treat the first five minutes after meeting somebody as a silent quiz session: Pretend you’re being tested to see how much you can find out about the new acquaintance--that when five minutes are up, you’ll have to write an essay about everything you’ve just learned, and the more information you include, the higher your score.

3. Ask at least two open-ended questions. Conversations often die quickly or turn into monologues when they aren’t propelled forward by good questions. When someone starts talking about something they enjoy, use that as an opening to ask more: “How did you get into that?” “What do you like most about it?” Since it’s something they’re clearly dying to talk about it, don’t just ask yes/no or simple factual questions that might cut off their chance to really dig into it.

Aim for at least two open-ended questions within the first few minutes of striking up a chat with somebody you’ve just met. That should be enough to get a good, in-depth conversation going. On a subconscious level, you’ll quickly become somebody they remember liking and will want to be around.

4. Find something you share. Have you ever spoken with someone and found them distracted, glancing around the room or maybe fiddling with their phone while you were speaking? If you did, there’s a slim chance you came away really liking them afterward. In order to make someone feel like they’re getting your full attention, you obviously need to focus on them exclusively. But you also have to find an interest or belief you both share.

The most emotionally intelligent people know that it’s easiest to connect with people they’ve found something in common with. These commonalities might not always be obvious, though; you have to look for them. For example, there’s a really experienced runner who works out at my gym, and we often have a chance to chat. Since I personally have zero interest in running, there wouldn’t seem to be common ground for a meaningful conversation beyond, “Good to see you again, how’s your week going?” But since most people like food, I once asked him what he eats before a major long-distance run. It gave us something in common to talk about.

These conversational openings are really simple but not always obvious right away just after meeting someone. Pay attention to what makes somebody light up, become more animated, and sit up straight. These little cues are easy to catch early on in your conversation, and they can make for great opportunities to quickly find commonalities, passions, and ideas to talk about in those crucial few minutes while we’re forming first impressions.

5. Say their name before you leave, and commit key facts to memory. Everybody loves the sound of their own name. Say it when you first meet someone; then sprinkle it throughout the conversation whenever you get the chance. At a minimum, make sure to say their name when you’re about to leave: “Really great meeting you, Shareen.” “Thanks for chatting, Kyle, let’s be in touch.”

Finally, emotionally intelligent people reinforce the likability they’ve banked during first impressions by remembering a few key details later on. The names of a new acquaintance’s partner, kids, even the pets they have or that vacation recommendation they shared--that’s all useful information to refer back to the next time you see them. It’ll help you stand out in their memory, and make them look forward to connecting with you again--because for some reason or other, they find that they just like you.

[onceuponabedtime]

To my son, when he becomes a teenager,

 I write this letter to you now, two months before your birth, with the understanding that my perspective will change, slowly but significantly, in the years after your arrival. My whole identity will undergo a reconstruction, as it has done before, this time based around you and your sibling(s) (assuming we have more children). I very much look forward to that change, and am prepared to dedicate my life to something other than myself. But, as of today, February 8th 2017, I am still at the center of my own little world, a position I now gratefully share with Shea (more on that particular change in identity in a later letter, perhaps). I am the product of my childhood and still, in a shrinking number of ways, a child myself. I’d like to write to you in that context, son to son, during this brief moment before we begin to define and redefine each other.

 That is a hard concept to grasp- that your father still recognizes the child in himself. To kids, adults always seem large and permanent, like they came into the world as grownups at the beginning of time. And, in one sense, that is true. I remember recognizing how fundamentally different adults were from me, and resolving to not grow into the kind of adult that knew much and cared much about things that mattered little. I admit that in some ways I’ve failed to live up to my childhood resolution. I am often too serious, too focused on trying to act and think in a way that I feel is proper. I play the grownup game of work and life, and try hard to understand the never-ending rules, procedures, and score-keeping system that we’ve built up from thin air. I still love to laugh and play like a child, and your mother brings out my inner dingus (as I’m sure you will), but the light-heartedness and trust in impulse that characterized me as a boy is now harder to reach.

 In other ways, hopefully the ones that matter most, I’ve succeeded in my resolution to stay young at heart. I still judge people by their intentions, and tend to overlook the ways in which they misrepresent themselves. I try to be my authentic self, whether I’m by myself or with others, so as to avoid misrepresentation. I try to make people laugh, and rarely talk as seriously as this letter makes it sound. I am still an innocent, and see the world of adults as a strange and frivolous place, better to be avoided if at all possible.

 All in all, I think my 13 year old self would enjoy getting to know the 28 year old me writing this letter. The 13 year old would be in awe to see his future self’s height, and beard, and beautiful wife. He might be disappointed that I wasn’t as simple and gregarious as some other adults, but having rarely confused personality for character, I think he would be inclined towards forgiveness.

 And what, in this imagined meeting of my current and past selves, would I say to my younger self? What is it I wish to say to you, Elliot, who I haven’t even met, but can know something of through the common human experience? I would say, You are entering an age of freedom and fun. Try new sports, learn meaningful skills, find something that sparks your interest and become an expert in it. Enjoy the trust and joy of your friends’ presence, and recognize the beauty in stillness and solitude as well. Learn to love to read, if you don’t already. Strengthen your connection to nature, and let your body explore its capacity for speed and agility. Take everyone’s advice with a grain of salt, including mine, because you will find your own way.

 I would say also, The teenage years bring unique challenges. Life becomes complicated by new and daunting changes, like whether you are expected to hold and kiss a girl or guy with whom laughter and games have until now been all that was wanted or expected. Others may make this leap faster than you, leaving you doubting your courage or value or attractiveness.

 That voice, the one that tells you your weaknesses and flaws, is a new responsibility in your young adulthood, and will be your greatest challenge in the years to come. It is still mine. More than anything, I would tell myself, that voice can help you, although it only ever seems to try to hurt you. Let it help you. When it calls you a coward, it is really just asking for you to demonstrate your strength. When it calls you ugly, it is really asking to be told it is beautiful. When it calls you stupid, it is reminding you to be patient and humble, because you still have so much to learn. This voice, I think, is what slowly turns a child into an adult. At first, it can seem like an unwelcome guest. Later, you learn to judge it by its intentions, which are to make you a better person. That voice will remind you, years from now, of times when you acted cruelly towards others, or when you embarrassed yourself by acting in a dishonorable way. It will help you avoid repeating those mistakes and reliving the unhappiness they created.

 To my younger self, and to you, Elliot, I would say, welcome that voice. If you treat it with loathing, it will respond in kind. If you treat it with kindness, patience, and compassion, it will also respond in kind. If you search your heart and mind for goodness, and encourage that goodness to grow, your true voice will be able to calm the inner voice of doubt, because it will know that you mean well, even if you make mistakes or are unsure of yourself.

 And it won’t suffice to only treat yourself with kindness, patience, and compassion, and to only find the goodness in your own heart and mind. You must also begin to purposefully treat others well, and to recognize the goodness in them. Please trust and believe, I would say to my younger self, that exposing the weaknesses of others doesn’t give you an ounce more of real strength or confidence. It can build you up, sure, but only to a more precarious height, from which the voice of self-doubt will inevitably drag you down. And don’t forget, all of your classmates must now start to struggle with their own, similar inner doubts. Tearing them down will only make it harder for them to trust and love themselves.

 Elliot, by the time you read this, I will have known you for thirteen or so years. I will have undergone a change as unforeseeable to me now as your mid-twenties are to you. But, having never met you, having only ever seen and felt your kicks against Shea’s stomach, I can tell you this with complete confidence: I love you. I know you are capable of incredible kindness and courage. I know you are on your way to being a source of love and strength for all those around you. Your mistakes are mistakes we all have made, and your shortcomings are ones we all must deal with. Your mind may seem at times like a strange and lonely place, but you are not alone. As you enter your teenage years, never doubt that you can ask or tell me anything. I promise to always be honest with you, and to try to help guide you towards being as wonderful as I know you can be. You begin the journey in two short months, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.

 From one son to another, with love,

Reid