#I went on a huge tangent and started talking about something else I apologize

[dunmeshistash]

cithis gender anon back again with extremely trite info that no-one cares about probably: does any other elf have their nails painted? I can't belive i didn't notice that? (That comic where cithis and flamela and pattadol all go to the warden ... hotpot(?) Shows it- they're a darkish red!)

Gasp

I think that's only when they have modern clothing on, in the adventurer's bible she doesn't have nail polish

None of the characters have nail polish as far as I can tell, another thing I noticed is that earrings are pretty rare too (Cithis only has them in modern clothing too) I only remember Otta and Leed having earrings in the story

I think that's perhaps a character design quirk from Kui tho? Even Lycion who to me reads as someone who would have piercing has none, Cithis got the dangling earrings to help with the celebrity aura here tho, and Benichidori also has some in this extra

Maybe for Kui earrings give an edgier feel?

I WENT ON A TANGENT BUT THE NAIL POLISH IS PRETTY COOL I NEVER NOTICED, I care about all the details, sometimes I wonder whats purposeful characterization and whats personal preference coming from Kui in character design, the earrings one is very interesting cause someone once asked if maybe elves avoided them since they value their pointy ears, but taking every character into consideration nobody really wears them, elf or not. (It's interesting to me cause nail polish and earrings is something I just add to any character without a second thought)

Tbh about nail polish that's probably inconvenient to keep while dungeoneering (maybe earrings too?)

[eremiie]

one — love confessions

❥ your actions have consequences. eren wants more with you but his motivation is unclear. there one thing you’re sure of though, eren jaeger is relentless.

❥ wattpad link ; ao3 link ; masterlist

❥ prologue ; chapter two

❥ word count ; 7k words

❥ content ; mentions of alcohol, alcohol usage

huge thanks to @arlert-slut for beta reading my work, she was a big help, ily callie!!!!

❝ it’s delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you’d find at a corner store— and what doesn’t help us the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you kick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. ❞

                                       彡

kisses were peppered on your face, threatening to stir you out of your sleep, and you knew who the culprit was, their hand sliding over the slope of your body and murmuring into your ear— words that were incomprehensible in your sleepy haze. 

"get up, it's time to wake up."

the past few mornings since your return from carla's had been a nuisance for you to get used to, but you were getting used to it. you were getting used to eren shaking you up early in the mornings to propose an activity for when you'd awake, and you were getting used to other things as well, like the more intimate touches he'd lay on you and the subtle nicknames. 

you were getting used to your situation with him after the events of the weekend prior.

the weekend prior; you spent your nights with eren at carla's, and he insisted that you go with him to a party at a nearby bar. you didn't mind and so you let him take you along, only for the two of you leave early after a more than inconvenient mishap. 

it was irritating at most, always having to be the one to drag eren away when he got more than comfortable, always having to talk to him about it only to see him make no effort to change. but for some reason something clicked in his brain that night and you ended up tangled in his sheets, a lazy love confession muttered in your ears when you were pressed against his front. a lazy love confession that you were partially swayed by.

you and eren didn't talk much about it, after leaving his mom's the two of you decided to leave it in the air. after all, there wasn't much to talk about that hadn’t already said. eren would try to do his part to win you over, and you'd just sit back and observe. the two of you went on just like you were before, as a matter of fact how you went on was almost too similar to how everything was before, yet at the same time somewhat foreign when you thought about the "other things".

the other things; the nicknames and the touches. you weren't too fond of them— maybe because you weren't his yet, but for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to shy away from them. they were comforting, they were something new to you, and you'd learn to appreciate them over time. 

it was funny because it was only eren who you’d let do these more than friendly touches even before what happened last weekend, and it was you who enjoyed the whole aspect of it. you were more prone to friendships as opposed to relationships. you never liked them much because you found yourself on a pedestal compared to others. no one could catch your attention, no one was good enough or worth your time, yet eren seemed to build his own pedestal and sit right beside you, and for that he was special.

 it was only eren who was able to do that, and only eren you were able to open up your heart to. you'd only hope he wouldn't screw it over for himself, and maybe for you too.

apart from getting used to your new situation with eren, you were getting used to letting go of things too, namely spending your mornings with someone else— spending your mornings with historia.

it didn't pain you much— you and historia had a friendship of pleasure, words by aristotle; she was good company for you in the mornings after class and when you needed socializing at events. 

maybe you'd blame it on the break you were on, after all, you'd walk out of your first class together. since there weren't any classes 'till next week, that could very well be the reason why you weren’t seeing her. although you knew even when they would start up again it wouldn't be historia who'd be offering you a piece of her breakfast, spritzing her floral perfume over her body for the nth time, or keeping you awake with her tangents, it'd be eren. 

plus, you were saving yourself from the awkward encounter, considering that night when she let her drink plague the front of eren's shirt, and considering the fact that that morning you had just told her to let eren be, that he was a player, that what may be fun for her was only a fling for him. yet you ended up in her exact position, letting eren sweep you off your feet and into his bed. that would linger on your mind when you saw her, and the more you thought about it the less fair it was to her,

but it wasn't your fault, right?

"c'mon get up, it's almost eleven." eren's hand slid back up to shake your shoulder before his fingers made their way up to your eyelid, pulling it up. you smacked his hand down, a groan leaving your lips as you turned in your covers.

"eren," you pulled the soft fabric of the blanket over your head and began to blink underneath them, eyes adjusting to the small gleam of light that was let through the thick fabric. "what is your problem?"

he huffs and you feel his weight dip the bed some as he falls backwards on it, his head resting against your legs. he reciprocates your groan, seemingly more irritated, as if you were the one to disturb his sleep. "my problem is that you won't get up." 

"you said it's eleven eren, eleven." your voice is groggy and you can feel the swell of your face, rubbing at your features before you tugged the blanket from over your head. eren perks up at the sound of the fabric rustling, and he rises, happy to see your face, that same radiant smile you're used to seeing every morning greeting you.

"i always wake you up earlier than this," he shuffles back on the bed and lays his head down against your stomach and although he can feel you glaring at him from above, he still gets as comfortable as possible. it's then that you realize he's already ready for the day, clad in clothes different from what he went to sleep in, a shirt, and some sweats. "'wanted to get something to eat with you."

you feel the guilt curdle in your stomach, his attire tells you he's been up for a while now. he must've let you sleep in a bit longer than usual because he was right, he would wake you up earlier than this and the two of you would get ready together. your mouth downturns into a small frown and your hand comes down to caress his brown locks, almost like a form of an apology. he accepts it, green eyes fluttering shut at your touch. "i'm not that hungry."

"than something to drink? we can go to that smoothie bar nearby."

"we're not using zeke's car again." you knew eren wouldn't let up, and a part of you tells you that you owe him this as a return for the extra hours you were able to catch. you were just talking to talk, you'd end up going with him anyway, you ended up going with him every day.

you can feel eren smile against the fabric of your top, a low chuckle that was barely audible leaving his lips, and it made you smile too. "we'll walk."

it doesn't take you long to get ready, and it doesn't take long for the two of you to be on your way either. you were hand in hand with eren, a small silence looming over the two of you if you didn't count the aimless comments he'd throw here and there that you tried your best to engage with.

it was nothing but you, eren, and the small breeze that tried to sweep the loose pieces of hair around his face away, his hand occasionally coming up to move them out of his line of sight while the two of you walked before immediately connecting with yours again.

it felt nice, it was tranquilizing even and not much was with eren. it was times like this that didn't make you regret having him pull you into his bed on that hectic evening, having him pull you out of bed every morning, and you especially didn't regret it when you caught sight of the glass windows of the bar, chairs and tables still visible through the tinted glass.

his hand drops from yours. it feels empty again and cold when you grab the steel handle of the door. you can feel the wind of eren striding past you and the door shuts faster than you expected. the thud of it closing behind you, almost shutting you in, made you flinch. you turned to look back at it before turning to see eren more than a few steps ahead of you already. 

you furrow your brows and let your feet pick up the pace to catch up to him and you don't even realize the way your hand stretches out for eren to grab it again. he doesn't, keeping his hands in his pocket as he walks, but you couldn't blame him— he wasn't even looking down at your outstretched limb, his eyes surveying the bar. 

you roll your eyes at yourself. your subconscious attempt was feeble anyways. it was no big deal— and so you shove your hand back into the pocket of your jacket, fingers playing with each other inside the fabric.

 the two of you round the corner of the divider placed in the middle of the store. you reckoned it was to give customers who were eating more privacy, and once you got around it your eyes immediately look up to take a glimpse at the menu while your feet come to a halt in line.

eren leans down a bit, "what are you gonna get?"

you shrug your shoulders. you didn't put much thought into it, too in the moment of the walk you were on earlier to consider that you'd actually need to order something when you arrived. eren on the other hand seemed to know what he wanted, staring ahead at the cashier instead of the menu. perhaps he'd been here before.

the line begins to move and you and eren diverge from it, stepping over to one of the open cash registers. 

"hey, what can i get for you today?" the girl has a kind smile on her face that eren tosses back. she glances between eren, then you, then eren again while her finger hovers over the pad of the register. 

he answers before you, letting you take your time to decide what you'll want, you continuing to skim the contents of the menu. "hey, uh," his tongue slides over his bottom lip as he leans forward on the counter, hands hugging the end of it to stable himself while he passes some of his weight forward. "can i get the strawberry pineapple smoothie? can you replace the coconut water with um, orange juice?" 

it’s then that you notice the ash orange of her hair, the way it curled against the frame of her face and complimented the hazel of her eyes that were trained on the boy next to you, listening to him talk while she occasionally nodded her head, punching numbers into the register. "of course you can, pretty."

"that's all you— thanks, carly." you couldn't recall her saying her name, so your gaze travels down to her shirt, body relaxing when you see the name tag pinned to the cloth of her uniform. you shift your weight from one leg to the other, eye flicking back up to her face before eren taps your shoulder, making you look towards him instead.

"_____?" it's your name he says next and he must've had to say it more than once, the slight downturn of his lips tells you so. "what do you want to get?" his tone is different from earlier, and the smile you could hear in his voice when he was ordering wasn't there anymore— but most people put on a cheery persona when addressing an employee. it was more or less natural.

"i'll get what he's getting." you didn't really hear much of eren's order, clearly focused on all except, but you didn't have time to ponder on a stupid smoothie. she punches up your order as eren pulls out his wallet, you not daring to take out your own, hands still sitting idle in your pockets. he slips out a crumpled twenty dollar bill, attempting to smooth it out before handing it to the girl.

you and eren step off to the side, not having to wait very long for your drinks. when eren heads over to grab them from the same brassy orange-blonde, giving her a polite "thank you," and her responding with an "anytime, come back soon!", your phone vibrates in the back pocket of your jeans and you avert your attention from the two by slipping the device out. 

it's pieck, her caller id sitting above the "home". you don't hesitate to swipe your finger across the screen to answer. 

seeing her name made you remember the night at the bar once more, you and pieck enlightening each other with easy conversation, eren being the topic, and you’re reminded to update her about the fiasco that had you slip away from her for longer than you expected.

your mental note to call her clearly was washed away by other intruding thoughts, and the same feeling of guilt from earlier when you were laying with eren returned— she shouldn't have been the one to call you.

you lift your phone up, the glass of the screen was cold as you pressed it against your ear. "hey, i'm sorry for not call—"

"my curiosity got the best of me." you can hear the lightheartedness in her tone, voice soft as it flowed through the phone. it puts you at ease. "don't worry too much about it, i just needed to make sure you were alive after this weekend."

a smile plays on your face and you were almost oblivious to eren's sudden presence beside you, two identical pink drinks in his hand, one jutted out towards you for you to take. your hand wraps around the drink and you walk behind him, letting him open the door for you this time around, making your way out of the smoothie bar.

"i'm alive... what have you been up to?"

pieck chuckles from behind the screen. it's warm and pleasant. this time instead of you, eren and the breeze, it's you, pieck and the breeze. although, you were still aware of eren next to you and the side glances he was throwing your way— interest in every one of them. "that's the question i should be asking you, after all, you were the life of the party on friday."

"far from it, but if you'd like to know 'm fine. out with eren right now, he just took me to this little smoothie place not too far from campus."

she's silent for longer than a few seconds, as if she was processing something before she speaks up again. "eren? now you really have to tell me what you've been up to." her tone still has that hint of jest to it, keeping the conversation lighter than it would've been. 

eren's ears perk up at the muffled sound of his name and he once again turns his head your way, an eyebrow quirked at you that you pretended to ignore. "who are you talking to?"

you bring the smoothie up to your lips, using it to take more time to answer before letting your eyes slide over to eren. "just pieck, nosey." you were only half-joking and neither you or eren laugh at the comment. "not much is up if i'm being honest with you, but i can tell you about," you pause for a moment, brain scrambling to find a word that would make the topic you were discussing more vague. "...we can talk about everything when i get back to my dorm?"

"why don't you come over? yelena is here but i don't think she'll mind." 

you had nothing planned for the remainder of the day, it wouldn't hurt to spend a few hours updating pieck. it was well deserved on her part— she'd been patient and hadn't even sent you a text ever since you'd last seen her at the party. not to mention she was a good friend and a wise person to chat with, her feedback would be nice to hear. "yeah that's cool, i'll text you."

"i'll be happy to see your face, have fun." 

the line cuts off before you could even give your goodbyes but you brush it off and slip your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, sipping at the almost forgotten smoothie that was dripping against your fingers. eren pulls your now free hand into his own, and it's like he's trying to recreate the moment before the bar, swinging your hands back and forth while the same silence dawns on both of you.

it's a little more stiff, a little too quiet, but it didn't matter because before you knew it you were walking up the steps to your shared dorm and eren's scanning the keycard so you and him could slip inside the warmth of the room.

you don't waste any time placing your cup down and shimmying out of your jeans, replacing them with sweats instead while eren just watches from the seat he takes on his bed. his eyebrows are knit from observing you hastily move around the small dorm. "where are you going?" it was question after question, but it wasn't anything new— he was always eager to know what you were up to, to try and keep an eye out for you and to try and keep up to date with you. when it wasn't a little vexatious, it was actually quite endearing.

you finish the remnants of your drink, plopping the cup into the trash and picking up your phone on your way to the door. "to pieck's dorm, i'll be back later."

eren stands up, following your route of throwing his empty cup into the trash then heading over to you, stopping right in front of your figure and making you tilt your head upward to get a better view of him. "that's what the two of you were talking about?"

he's in close proximity— you could count all the wrinkles on his shirt if you wanted to, or every eyelash that curved downwards above his eyes. "...i guess."

"i wanted you to come with me to reiner's in a few hours, sasha and them were gonna be there."

you recalled seeing sasha on friday, how she beamed being in your presence and how excited she was to see you— telling you that the two of you needed to hang out more, and although now would've been a great opportunity, you had plans. 

you sighed. albeit you never minded hanging out with your friends, maintaining them was a little harder than usual. "for one, i don't know who reiner is, and second of all, i have somewhere to be; i'll just text her when i get back." you'd hope you'd be able to stay true to your word, as you weren't able to do so with pieck. 

in the midst of you turning to grab the handle of the door, eren's hands come up to cup your jaw, palms resting against the supple skin of your face, and you roll your eyes before looking down to the ground.

his affectious demeanor was present again as he pulled you closer and pouted at you while his thumb caressed your cheek. "m'gonna miss you, you'll probably be asleep when i come back."

your own hand comes up to grab at his wrist, but you can't bring yourself to try and pull his hand away. instead, you find yourself rubbing at the tan skin, still not maintaining eye contact. "and that's fine, tomorrow's another day, i need to go." your words are somewhat bitter, but eren doesn't catch on.

he presses a testing kiss to your forehead, looking down at you before tilting your head up more and pressing a gentle one to your lips.

it's delicate and sickeningly sweet, like the saccharine candy you'd find at a corner store— and what doesn't help is the remaining taste of strawberry pineapple he leaves on your lips. you lick at the skin in efforts to get rid of it, and he only chuckles at your attempt before dropping his hands from your face. 

even though you could feel your cheeks burning, you still felt cold without his skin being in contact with yours. "text me when you get back." he says when you're stepping out the door, and you mutter a "we'll see," that you couldn't tell if he heard or not, not that it mattered much to you.

the walk to pieck's dorm feels shorter than usual, and you're not sure whether to blame it on the fact that you were getting used to the route, or on the fact that you were clouded in your own thoughts. either way, you're knocking a melody on her door in no time, and you're greeted by yelena looming over you, a neutral expression on her face.

"yelena," she nods her head at you but doesn't say anything back, only sidestepping to let you in, the person you wanted to see lying on her side against her bed, casting a lazy smile at the sight of you.

"______, long time no see?" pieck doesn't make an effort to sit up, only scooting backwards to create a space for you to sit at, and you let yelena pass you to get back to her desk before walking over to pieck.

"it's barely been a week," you saunter over to her bed, balancing your foot on one of the boxes that platforms her bed to climb up onto it. "you saw me just last friday." 

"and i was supposed to see or hear from you earlier than today." she's still holding her smile as she speaks, tilting her head towards you and raising a brow. "nevertheless, i'm glad you're here now." she truly was— despite you being a year under her, appreciative of your company. to her it was like having a little sister to look after, she felt like she was constantly watching you from the distance— and you felt like she was always there when you needed a bit of advice.

"and i'm glad to see you, how're your friends doing?"

she shakes her head at you but she answers your question anyways, "zeke, is being zeke— off dilly dallying and being an english major, nothing new to him. if you couldn't tell yelena is over there doing some work, porco is doing well, colt’s good, we're all good." with the way she grins wider, you already know what the next topic of discussion would be, her eyes narrowing at you as she finally sits up, back falling into her surplus amount of pillows. "how're you and your friends?"

"well according to one of them they're all supposed to be gathered up in someone's dorm right now, a little get together i think." 

pieck's mouth parts and her eyebrows upturn. "and you've decided to sit here with me?"

"i told eren i didn't want to go, i wanted to spend time with you."

her hand comes up to her chest dramatically and she stares at you in awe, "i always knew you liked me more than the rest of them, apart from eren i suppose." your nose scrunches up at her, you knew it was coming. you knew she'd find a way to bring him up, she always found a way to make things go according to her. it was admirable— and fun to watch when you weren't the victim. "speaking of eren..." her words slide off her tongue tauntingly and you groan. she doesn't take the sound to heart. 

"here we go,"

"what? you said you'd update me. so what happened? my ears are open."

you pull your legs up onto the bed until you were sat criss-cross. "well, after we left he didn't tell me anything until we got back to his mom's," you can hear pieck adjusting herself, getting comfortable as if she was a giddy child and you were a veteran getting ready to tell an old war story. "what he told me was that he had said something to upset historia, and that's why she threw her drink on him— and i told him that he shouldn't have been fuckin' around in the first place."

pieck nods her head after every couple words and you use that as a cue to go on, "and he starts saying he's sorry and shit, i kind of started to feel bad and i reassured him that it wasn't that big of deal, just that he needs to be better, you know?"

"i know."

your voice gets quiet at your next words, and your back slouches. the pads of your fingers tap against each other when you start to speak again. "and after that... after that, i don't really know how it happened but we kissed, and then he took me to his room and... and we had sex," the nearer your sentence came to an end the less audible it was.

"excuse me?" pieck leans in, and you can see her blink once, twice, and then a third time as she raises her nimble fingers to move stray ebony locks behind her ear until the appendage was visible to you, and you almost snort at the gesture. "the last part, i'm not sure i heard it well."

"you did." your hand lightly shoves her head away and it's quiet for a minute, only the taps of yelena's fingers against the keyboard and the birds chirping just outside the window of her dorm. "we fucked." and even though you knew she heard you the first time around, you repeat it. more so to yourself, like you were confirming the events and making sure they were true to what actually happened.

pieck settles against her pillows again but she doesn't look surprised. it's amusement that dances across her features and it's... satisfaction? she lets out a small sigh of content, as she closes her eyes and lets her head rest against the pile behind her. "mhm, that's what i thought."

it's you who's taken aback, her demeanor so calm that it's almost unsettling. "what?" 

"well something happened that night, right? c'mon the way zeke's brother acts around you alludes to something. how he watches you, he's very touchy with you, i'm surprised you didn't figure it out earlier." she doesn't mention how you'd reciprocate every touch regardless of the matter and would watch him in the same manner, maybe just from a farther distance. "he's the candidate i mentioned."

your words feel stuck in your throat and even if you could speak properly you weren't sure what you would say. you'd hope it was only pieck who was this observant, this alert when it came to those around her, otherwise the displays of affection would have to become a private thing; it was almost embarrassing knowing people could see you unknowingly gush over eren in plain sight.

when you don't respond immediately, pieck does instead, and her question flows out of her so easily that it’s as if she was patiently waiting to ask. "what about the blondie?" you were sure pieck remembered her name by now. maybe the nickname was more pleasant on her tongue.

"what about historia?" 

"what about when she finds out about you and eren?"

pieck saw things full circle, she rummaged every corner and crack for possibilities, what ifs, and what abouts, and it made you think harder— even when you didn't think you needed to ponder too much on what she'd make you reflect on.

the quality was endearing when you'd skip a step or two during a math problem, or when you didn't consider the hangover of a party overlapping with a test you'd have to take the next day. however, it wasn't so endearing when you were trying to just get through an exam, or when she made a simple problem more elaborate than it had to be.

"well, i told her not to fuck with eren— i can't help it if he likes me or not." you rub the back of your neck while staring off into the corner of pieck's dorm. "eren will tell her anyways."

"and if he doesn't?" both you and pieck's head whiz towards yelena and you realize the sound of her fingers clacking against the keys of the laptop cease to exist. her slender arm is hung over the back of the chair and her legs are crossed at the ankle. you can't read her doe eyes, not sure if she was genuinely interested in the conversation or if her ears only decided to listen for the remainder of it out of boredom— but you knew she heard the last sentence either way. "it's your job to inform her, after all you seemed closer to her than eren."

"yeah but it's eren who needs to cut her off, so he should tell her then." 

pieck pats the bed in front of her, stealing both you and yelena's attention with the smallest gesture. "what about talking to blondie? giving her a letdown and letting her know what's going on between you and eren? i mean, you and eren aren’t dating yet, right?"

your eyes meet pieck and you speak lowly, slow and careful. "no..." a brow is arched above your eye; you weren't sure what she was getting at. "but that's what he's trying to do. i wasn't just g'nna... throw myself at him that night," you cup your jaw with your hands, placement just like eren's earlier and your face twists into a lovesick expression, lip jutting out and eyebrows turned upwards. "oh, eren yes i'll be yours!" 

pieck chuckles at your sarcastic tone and shakes her head. "i didn't say all that now, i'm glad you didn't..." her hand waves around your face in a circular motion, "do that."

"yeah, 'm not stupid,"

"i know, i know, my point was just that you need to be wary of your circumstances, _____." her words are darker and she gives you a motherly expression, almost as if she was scolding you. her finger pointing towards your figure didn't help to dull that feeling. "you need to be the one to talk to historia and you need to set your boundaries with eren. be mindful of the predicament you're in, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks."

"and don't be upset if the old dog can't learn them." yelena doesn't fail to add on, before spinning her chair back towards the desk in front of her, seemingly uninterested in the conversation already, the jaded look that she gives you telling you enough.

you don't respond but pieck knows the gears are turning in your head by the way your eyes cloud over and the way you stare a little too long at the photo of her and porco pinned up against her side of the dorm.. if she asked you to tell her the color shirt she was wearing in it while closing your eyes, she was sure you'd be able to give her that and more.

but she lets you ponder and she knows it's a good chance you won't heed her advice. 

you were independent for the most part and you seemed to have things under control when they needed to be— that included having eren under control. so why would you need someone like pieck to tell you to take your brain out of autopilot for a few seconds and be wary of eren?

as far as you knew, from the ache of his words that night in the laundry room, the way he held onto you as if you could slip out of his grip any second; he wanted you and he wanted you bad. it wouldn't be your feelings hurt if he tripped over his own feet— it'd be his loss and he should know you wouldn't be one to try and pick him back up again.

that wasn't the kind of person you were, it never was— it was eren who'd have to change, not you, no matter how small the transition. 

but you knew you wouldn't have to worry about that anyways, it was your subconscious plaguing you.

“my mom would kill me if i played you anyways.”

those were his words that night and they'd linger in the back of your mind. they were a constant reminder to you that what was happening wasn't imaginative, and you'd reckon he'd stick by them.

                                     彡彡彡

nothing feels better than toeing out of your shoes and slipping them under your bed for a later occasion. you had talked with pieck longer than expected, arriving back to your dorm a few hours before midnight, yet eren still wasn't back as you expected.

you slipped out of the attire you'd been walking around in all day and went to the bathrooms to take a shower. it was a quick one, the water temperature more on the warm side then you'd like, but it was nothing you could control.

you found yourself skimming the contents of eren's clothes when you headed over to the closet for pajamas to sleep in, plucking one of his shirts from the hangers. 

don't think too far ahead, it was just the feeling of the fabric clinging to your skin while being a few sizes too big. how it fell around your body and covered you just enough so you wouldn't have to wear sleep shorts that you always ended up kicking off in the middle of the night. 

it felt safe and you'd grown to like the feeling ever since eren slipped one of his shirts over your head when you were barely able to get up.

you crawl into your bed but you knew sleep wouldn't greet you for an hour or so. knowing eren wasn't in the bed across from you stirred your stomach, so you grabbed your phone that was still on its charger and opened youtube; it'd be a clever distraction for the time being.

you weren't sure how long you'd been scrolling through pointless videos, clicking one that’s thumbnail sparked your interest and watching it for as long as you could muster then swiping down to the recommended to repeat the process. 

however long it was, it made your eyes grow weak, weight pulling down your lids and particularly loud segments from each video making your eyes snap back open, the cycle continuing.

it's one noise that makes you jump out of the grasp of sleep— and it's not the sound from the video playing in front of you, it's the noise of the handle of the door jiggling. your eyes move over to watch the brass handle shake up and down with vigor, as if the person on the other side was trying to break in.

it's the curse of breath that calms your nerves, the small "shit," coming from the other side sounding all too familiar even with your body struggling to stay awake. 

a small smile tugs on your lips at eren's attempts to open the door, but you make no efforts to get up. you're more than overjoyed when you hear the sound of a keycard being used at the door, it finally swinging open a little harder than you expected, eren bending down to pick up the card he seemingly dropped. 

he stumbles when he stands, grabbing the door. you're not sure if it was to close it or steady himself, but his gaze is trained on you the whole time when he shuts it, back pressed against the wood when it is completely closed, his frame only standing there for a few seconds before he giggles.

"______."

his words are slurred and he bumps into the end of his bed when he begins making his way over to you. the goofy way your name leaves his lips still makes your heart skip a beat and your hand slides your phone over, arms open for him. "eren."

although you've seen his face more times than you can count, it’s still refreshing to see it for a split second in the dim moonlight that shines on the side of his face as he passes the window. his hair is more tousled than you remember and his eyes are half lidded— but in a way that makes it seem like he was trying to make them as wide as possible. you can't help but shake your head as he crawls into your bed slowly, lifting the covers for him so he can slide in. 

"______... you're awake." he hums when you drape the covers over both his and your body. he makes himself a home between your legs, head falling to your chest and his arms to his sides as hands scrunch into fists.

"i'm awake." he's hot to the touch and he makes you warmer than you were before, makes you stare at him in awe and caress his hair again, taming the stray locks on the top of his head.

"_______," you can smell the alcohol on his breath as well as a floral scent and the smell of sweat that littered his body. it's not off putting enough for you to want to tell him to "get up," and to "go sleep in your own bed." but you'd make a mental note to remind him to shower in the morning— not that he wouldn't take one without your reminder.

"yes, eren?"

eren scoots up more until his head is leveled with yours. his weight is heavy but soothing and you press yourself against him more, able to feel every rise and fall of his chest, every beat of his heart, and every exhale of his breath onto your cheek. "i love you."

you've heard it before more times than you could count. you were his childhood friend, it was so natural but you knew it meant more this time. yet, you couldn't scratch the fact that he was drunk and his words could be empty. you could wake up tomorrow and be the only one who would remember what he said. "yeah i know, eren."

he whimpers and his lips press to your cheek, it's elongated and hard, but when he's done he doesn't move them, letting his mouth rest against your skin.

when you don't reciprocate his fingers come up to turn your head towards him and he’s pressed his lips against yours this time. it's slow and sensual and you melt into the meager kiss. the taste of beer that lingers on eren's tongue is not enough for you to pull away, and the way eren kisses you sloppily and lazily isn't a bother either. 

he groans and the vibrations can be felt where your body was up against his. his lips are slightly dry and it compliments the soft feel of yours that he can't seem to get enough of, his lips trapping your bottom one and him pulling back before doing the same with the top. 

eren's thumb rubs against the skin of your tragus, every back and forth motion making the skin under it tingle. he uses the grip he has on your face to pull you in further and let his teeth graze your lower lip. you're so caught up in the moment, but the buzz of his phone in the pocket of his sweats that sagged against your thigh makes you jolt and pull away for a second.

he tries to bring your lips together again but you remember that he's drunk and both of you need sleep, especially eren if anything. "eren," you breathe, and he murmurs a "hm?" against the skin of your jaw that he was kissing, trailing back up to peck kisses to the corners of your lips.

"let's go to sleep."

"but i love you," he's whiney, a hand sliding down to bring you impossibly closer, pulling you by the small of your back. you sigh, your palms pushing off his chest to put some distance between the two of you that even you didn't want there. but the brunette was too handsy and you were only following your brain, not your heart.  

your hand slips into the pocket of his sweats and you grab his phone, body flipping over to unplug yours and plug his in. 

it vibrates once to signify that it was being charged, then twice to signify another incoming text message and the phone screen lights up, your eyes skimming the screen without thinking.

under every contact name was the words imessage, all his notifications including messages hidden from the lock screen. 

you read the name armin, the text from the boy being the one that lit up eren's phone screen in your face, sasha, a text from her more than several hours ago, and an unsaved number that started with 760, the number having texted a couple minutes ago. you assumed it must've been the one that buzzed when eren was against you.

his phone screen goes dark and you place it down onto the bed, your phone beside it before pulling the covers more over you and not turning around towards eren. you were afraid he'd pester you again. you could feel his abdomen up against your back, arm slung over your midsection that he must've threw while you were plugging in his phone. 

you can hear him snoring against your back and you could laugh at how fast he fell asleep, silently wishing that had been you hours ago. you scoot back against him more and close your eyes, the darkness replacing the pretty moonlight that the crooked blinds of your window let in.

"i love you too."

[tinyboxxtink]

“Helpless” *Part 7*

WHOOOOOO buddies, this might be my favorite chapter so far. You’ll see why.... 

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 8

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

----

Olivia, Fin, Carisi and the other blonde detective, Rollins you thought-- came bursting into the kitchen at the noise, only to find you and Rafael standing there like kids with their hands in a cookie jar.

“We uh-- we thought…” Carisi stammered.

“Sorry, we’ll leave ya’ll to it. We’re gonna take off,” Amanda waved goodbye, shoving the rest of them out the door.

“Right...have a nice evening!” you called after them in a cheery voice, but slapped your hands over your face as soon as they were gone. 

“Christ...great, now they’ll be talking too,” you rolled your eyes.

“They’re not high school girls, they don’t gossip,” he scoffed.

“Uh huh...like we’re not high schoolers making out in the back room?”

“Two kisses hardly count as ‘making out’, carino,” He smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Carino means…” 

“Sweetie or honey, I know. Arianna speaks spanish. She calls you abogado,” 

“...You know spanish? Then why did you look at me weird when I called you camarera?” 

“She didn’t teach me, like a Rosetta Stone or something. She just says things randomly in spanish and tells me what they mean,” you explained, suddenly wondering how you got into this conversation.

“I see…”

“Okay this conversation has veered off into some weird little tangent,” 

“I agree, enough talking,” Rafael grinned devilishly, wrapping his arms around you again.

“DOWN, counselor,” you pushed his arms back to his sides. 

“You see this?” you gestured to the mess in front of you. “I gotta remake all of this before I can leave, and it takes FOREVER,”

“Well not if I help,” 

“Yeah OKAY, a big fancy lawyer is gonna sit here and do prep work,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing the onions and tomatoes to slice. Rafael grabbed some knives on a nearby shelf and handed you one.

“I cook, you know,” he took an onion and started chopping.

“Do you? Then why are you in here all the time?”  you raised an eyebrow while grabbing a tomato. 

“It’s not fun cooking for one person,” he replied, not looking up from the board.

“You don’t live with anyone?” The question made Rafael stop chopping and look at you.

“If I had a significant other, do you really think I would be here kissing you? Even pursuing you?” He gave you a look.

“Pursuing me….” you gave him a tongued smile. “I like that,”

“Whatever…” he shook his head with a smile. “The answer is NO; I’m a thirty something something with a very nice job, I live alone,” 

“Mmmmm I’m willing to bet you’re more of a forty something something, but I get it,” You smirked. “That must be nice, I’ve never lived alone,” 

“It gets lonely,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah I’m sure, in a big penthouse apartment and your many books of mahogany,” 

“...Really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, I assume rich people have a lot of books, and I’m pretty sure mahogany is fancy…” You blushed, to which Rafael laughed. A real laugh; the crinkles of his eyes and his dimples as big as they were, you hadn’t seen him laugh like that up close before. It was intoxicating. 

“...What? Did I get an onion on my face?” Rafael knocked you from your daze; shit were you staring at him?!

“Wha-- no, nothing. I’m just tired,” you played it off, waving your hands dismissively. 

“Well I know you have the good stuff in here,” He walked away from the cutting board and over to your espresso machine, turning it on.

“Oh come on man, now I have to re-clean that!” You groaned. 

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” Rafael kissed your cheek as he made cappuccinos for the two of you.

---

About an hour had passed, and you two were finally done re-prepping all the prep work. Rafael had even helped you reclean the espresso machine. You did last minute checks and went outside, where Rafael followed. You locked the front doors and picked up your phone to look at it.

“SHIT, 1:45?! God, Ari must be freaking out,” you frantically looked through your history to make sure she hadn’t tried to call or text. She hadn’t. 

“Well, good night counselor,” You nodded, starting to walk to the subway; Rafael grabbed your hand.

“Oh no no no, I’m not letting you walk home by yourself at 2 am in the middle of New York City,” 

“It’s 1:45, and I’m a big girl. Trust me, I could knife a guy if I had to,” you protested.

“ ….‘knife a guy’,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“I could! 

“Alright then humor me,” He pulled you around the corner where a town car was waiting.

“How did you--??”

“Uber never sleeps,” he opened the door for you and you slid in the backseat, Rafael slid in next to you.

“So do I just tell him my address or….?”

“I mean, unless you wanna go to mine,” he grinned devilishly again, that sparkle of arousal dancing in his eyes. It was very tempting.

“I….no I can’t, Ari will know,” you looked down, feeling stupid. It was as if Arianna was your mommy and you were out past curfew. Not like the two grown women equals you should be.

You gave the driver your address and he began driving. You felt Rafael put an arm around your shoulder, and for once you let yourself relax into him. You had literally never felt safer in your life, just being curled up next to him. So safe, so warm, so…

“...Y/N?” 

Rafael’s voice awakened you from the nap you apparently had just taken in his arms. 

“Oh...Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” You apologized, fixing his mussed dress shirt where you had been laying on it. There was even the tiniest bit of drool on it; god how embarrassing. 

“You most certainly did, you were even snoring a bit,” He chuckled at the horrified look on your face. “What? It was cute,” 

“God…” You leapt out of the car, trying to get your keys out as fast as you could to get away from this nightmare. 

“Hey, wait up!” Rafael got out of the car and followed you to the door of your building. 

“Okay, I made it home safe. You did your duty, counselor,” you saluted him, to which he took your “saluting” hand in his.

“That’s it? I spent hours chopping up things and cleaning, and all I get is  ‘job well done’?” 

“Well...what else do you want, a medal?” you teased him.

“How about…” He pulled you in for another kiss; and this time, you let him. 

The kiss lasted for what seemed like forever. The chilly New York air blew against your cheap plastic jacket and you shivered. Rafael took his huge pea coat and wrapped it around the two of you while you kissed, making it that more romantic.

Even after you broke apart, your arms were wrapped around his waist inside the jacket, your head pressed against his chest as he kissed your forehead and just held you. You didn’t want to leave him there, you knew for sure you had never felt this safe. With anyone. Not even Arianna. GOD, Arianna. Now you really didn’t want to leave him because you knew you couldn’t see him again; not like this.

Rafael felt something warm against his chest, and he pulled you back a bit from him, only to see you were crying.

“Ay carino...don’t cry, what’s wrong?”

“This is it,” you sniffled. “This is where this ends, and I don’t want it to,” 

Rafael sighed and put his hands on your shoulders, making you look at him. “Hey...this ends, when you say it ends. Not me, not Arianna, you,” 

“Rafael I told you I--” You started, but he put a finger to your lips.

“I told you, I’m not scared of Arianna. I lo--care about you, a lot,” He bit his lip when he stumbled over his words. A micro expression trying to hide the words he really wanted to say-- but you knew that already.

Even though it made zero sense of course, how could two people possibly be in love after a few days. Not even. Maybe your bullshit about a ‘connection’ wasn’t bullshit….not that it mattered anyway because this was never going to work out. Arianna would never let it happen. 

But for some bizarre reason, in that chilly doorway at 2 am, wrapped in Rafael’s coat-- you believed him. You believed that somehow, he was going to make this better. He was going to make it okay. And you were actually going to let him.

“...Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay? Really? Okay? Just like that? I thought I’d have to get on my knees and beg,”

“Do you want me to change my mind or do you wanna kiss me again?”

“Kiss please,” he smiled, pulling you even closer into his coat as he kissed you far deeper this time. He had to make this okay, he had to do something. He just had to. You never wanted to give this feeling up. 

“Give me your phone,” you ordered him this time, and he obliged. You programmed your number and handed it back to him.

“There. Now I can’t ‘ghost’ you,” 

“You can try, I’ll just blow up your phone with links of cute cat videos or something,” he grinned, kissing you one more time.

“Okay, seriously I gotta go upstairs. Arianna’s gonna wake up and see I’m not home,” 

“...Until we meet again then,” he kissed your hand and gave you the biggest smile you had ever seen on a human being. 

You walked inside your building and watched him until he got back into the town car and drove off into the night. Then you took the stairs up to your apartment, practically floating all the way there.

---

When you unlocked the front door to your apartment, you tried tiptoeing through your living room. However, as you reached the two doorways of your rooms, you noticed Arianna’s light was still on. You debated heavily whether or not to check on her, she was never up this late. 

Maybe something had happened? Maybe she was worried about you? 

You peeked open her door, only to see ALL of her stuff strewn about her room in boxes, while she was throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“Oh good! You’re home,” She pulled bras out of her top drawer.

“W-What is all this--” your eyes darted around the room.

“Did you have a nice time with the abogado?” her question made your blood freeze.

“What? Wha--Ari, I told you--” your voice quavered.

“Yeah I know what you told me, and I also know that look of yours,” she laughed and shook her head.

“What look?”

“The same look you had for Bobby DiMucci in 10th grade,” She smirked. “The ‘oh my god I wanna marry you and have all the babies’, look,” she batted her eyes.

“There’s...that’s not--” you scoffed with a laugh.

“But that’s cool! I hope you guys had a very nice time, you certainly seemed to have a very nice goodbye,” She gestured downstairs. FUCK you knew it, she would be watching. 

“Y-You do…?”

“I do! Because we’re leaving,” Arianna grabbed more boxes out of her closet and tossed them at you.

“Wha--we’re-- NO, we’re not,” Your mind started running a million miles a minute, your body began to panic.

“YES, we are,” she stopped packing and walked up to you.

“Whether or not you and the ADA keep playing kissy face, he knows about us. And if he doesn’t take you down, he’s gonna take me down. And I can’t have that,” She explained as she continued packing.

“And I know you don’t wanna choose between us, so I’m choosing for you,” She circled the room, pulling stuff out from under her bed.

“We’re leaving, and you’re never gonna see him again,” She grabbed some of the boxes on her bed and tossed them towards you.

Your blood was boiling, your whole body was shaking. She controlled EVERYTHING in your life, down to what kind of soda you drank, or what TV show you watched. She wasn’t going to control this, she wasn’t going to take him away from you.

“I...Ari, NO,” you softly spoke.

“....Excuse me?”

“I’m not going with you,” you said louder, glaring at her.

 “If--If you wanna run because you think that Rafael is gonna ‘take you down’, which he ISN’T,”  “Then fine. I won’t tell him or anyone where you went. But I’m not going,” 

“God….baby girl,” Arianna dropped the boxes and made a sad pouting face, as if she was feeling bad for you; But then she went for something behind her bed. All of a sudden she was pulling out a gun, and holding it on you.

“Don’t make me do this,” 

“What the FUCK, Arianna? Why do you have a GUN?” You were freaking out, you didn’t know if you should run or throw something or shit your pants.

“Oh for Fuck’s sake Y/N we lived in a CAR, in NEW YORK CITY. Why wouldn’t I have a gun?!” she scoffed, moving closer to you.

“Okay but--but put it down, okay? Please?” You were now crying, basically begging for your life. How did you go from SO safe to now begging for your life?!

“I can’t do that, sweetie. Not until you agree to leave with me. Tonight,” She had tears in her own eyes, you knew she didn’t want to hurt you. She was scared. You knew she would never hurt you. 

“....Please, Arianna. Please don’t do this…” You pleaded through tears, very slowly reaching for the gun.

“YOU’RE DOING IT! YOU are doing this to us!” she screamed, waving the gun in your face. 

“I guess it is sort of my fault, I told you his name. I pushed you towards him. I just didn’t think he’d actually like you back,” she continued in a normal voice.

“Wow, just...wow,” you huffed.

“Not that you’re not wonderful, baby girl. Just...you know, not in his league,” 

“See but you were wrong, Ari. He does like me. No no no, He LOVES me, and I love him,” You were getting bolder now, how dare she start shitting on you and Rafael. That’s all she had done from the start, was tear apart and tarnish what you had. 

“Pffftttt, okay. After what, a few conversations and a few tongues down your throat? Gimme a friggin BREAK,” she scoffed, the gun still pointed at you. 

“Fuck you, it’s real.” You spat, unable to take the bullshit from her anymore. Arianna stared at you in shock; you had NEVER spoken to her like that.

 “And-And And if you DON’T want him coming after us, then this is the stupidest move you could make. Because he’ll fight for me Arianna, he’ll fight for me and he will WIN,” Tears still in your voice, but anger powered over them.

“God, look at you! Look at what he’s DONE to you. To us. It’s always been US, Y/N. Me and you, Bert and Ernie! Thelma And Louise! Bonnie And Clyde!” She gestured between the two of you wildly.

“NO, it’s been you using me,” you scoffed.

“Is that what he said?” She turned the gun sideways.

“It’s the truth!” you argued.

“NO IT’S NOT, and once we get out of here, you’ll forget about him. I promise, and then we can be happy again. Okay?” She had a psychotic smile, pulling you in for a hug, the gun pressed against your back. You had to get out of here.

“...Okay, Ari,” you finally gave in, throwing your hands up in defeat. You looked up at her with the saddest eyes you could muster, trying to convince her she had you beaten down once again. She hugged you again, and let you go. But she held tight to the gun. 

“I’ll go pack,” you grabbed some boxes and took them into your room. As soon as you heard Arianna resume packing, you ducked beside your bed and dialed Rafael’s number.

“Please pick up, please please please….”

[187days]

Day Seventy-Eight

WE DID IT! WE’RE DONE! WOOHOO!!!!

It was a fun day, though. 

It started with a faculty breakfast instead of the usual Thursday morning PLC meeting. Chef B’s culinary students came in early to make eggs, french toast, bacon, sausage, muffins, fruit salad, etc, etc... (plus assorted beverages- most importantly coffee). Our administrators served the food and bused the tables. And it was so nice. It’s also ugly sweater day, so we were all commenting on each other’s style.

My World students heard my final points about the lessons we just did: that they actually can understand difficult material, that it’s important to understand, and that even though I was teaching about something grim I was also teaching about courage and compassion (teachers reeducating kids who’d been taken by ISIS, soldiers fighting to drive them out of the territory they’d taken, the Greek coast guard pulling refugees out of the water, the Polish women getting aid to the people trapped at the border, etc, etc...) My morning classes responded really well to that summation; my Block 4 class was ready to go home, but, y’know, they mostly listened. And after I was done talking, we played a wild round of Kahoot that was half vocab review and half holiday trivia. It was hilarious. I ended class by reading “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” which is something of a tradition of mine.

At one point during Block 2, the band came caroling through the hallways. That was a surprise. All of a sudden we just heard, “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” I thought it was a movie being shown in another class, at first, but I went into the hall to investigate, saw the band, and motioned for my students to join me. We were treated to a mini-concert, which was totally delightful!

My GOV students and I started class by discussing the current events write-ups they’d done, then went on a huge tangent about party realignment, which was all good with me. The student who’d started us off on that tangent apologized because it took up so much time. One of the others said it was fine because the discussion was more interesting than anything he’d planned to say, so then his classmates demanded a dramatic reading of the opening lines of his write-up, which sent everyone- including me- into a fit of giggles. What else could I do at that point but put on The West Wing? We watched “Lord John Marbury” because it’s the next episode in order, and it’s a good natsec one. 

I spent most of my prep time cleaning my room: washing my boards, wiping down door handles and shelves, sweeping crushed candy cane bits off the floor. We’re still down a couple custodians, so we’re all trying to help out if we can. The Principal came by to say Merry Christmas, as did some of my colleagues, so it was also a fairly social hour.

And, at 3:00, that was that! Mr. F and I went downstairs, got Mrs. T, and we all headed out into a bright and cold afternoon. 

We made it. It’s vacation!

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: parental abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation, toxic friendships, transphobia, self degradation

I am a little unsure of the warnings, because I am still trying to figure this out and come to terms with this myself. So I apologize if something I write does not correlate with the warnings.

I am asexual, grey romantic, lesbian, and genderqueer, my pronouns are they/them.

A little while ago, my friend and I were talking, and I must have reacted to something they said, but I hit my friend, on the arm. When they reacted by expressing their pain, I said “Oh come on, I didn’t even hit you that hard. Do you need to see a doctor or something?”

Almost the moment I had said these words, as my friend was walking away, it hit me with so much force that I almost physically stumbled. It was a flashback of a sort, taking be back to a memory of my mother saying almost exactly the same thing, to me. When I was younger, she used to do something and then, if I cried out in pain, she would say or yell, “I barely touched you! If that hurt, then I’m going to have to take you to the doctor. Is that what you want?”

Am I turning into my mother? I have a complicated relationship with her. One moment, we will be having an enjoyable conversation, and the next, she’s screaming and cursing at me. Or, we’ll be joking around and one of us will mention something stressful and I’ll try to calm her down, but she’ll ask me if her feelings even matter, if I’m trying to invalidate her. She frequently tells me that I’m the one turning her into the “bad guy”.

I also worry about turning into my father. He is very different from my mother, and I have never heard him yell, but he is so passive aggressive and sarcastic that it hurts. He calls me names and insults me.

I am pretty sure that I have developed a lot of my irl personality’s sarcasm, bluntness, and plain rudeness from my father and my habits and insecurity from my mother. Both of my parents want to have a lot of control over my life. My mother in a social aspect, pushing me into relationships.

My father is very protective over me and is, in my opinion, constantly paranoid and suspicious that I’ll do something inappropriate or that someone will attempt something inappropriate on me. My parents don’t even know that I have any form of social media because they were so against it.

While these are definitely real problems, I just can’t get over how much he tries to cut me off from the real world, which only pushes me want to do more and more of things that he doesn’t want me to do. He is also transphobic, and although I’m not out to my parents yet, it still hangs over me like a dark cloud.

Every time I start to feel sorry for myself, I catch and remind myself that so many people have it much worse than me. Is this toxic? I know that comparing traumas is toxic behavior, but I can’t help it. Even asking this has been a challenge for me, because I want to feel valid, but at the same time, I don’t want to take that away from someone else or feel too valid.

I am so sorry, I went on a huge tangent and wrote more than the essay I’m supposed to be working on.

Hi anon, 

I am sorry but as this has been sitting for a bit, I am opening this up to followers. 

I do want to point out that your experiences are valid, and don’t need to be “worse” for you to be valid. You aren’t taking away from someone else by validating yourself, and you are allowed to feel valid. And you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself. I think it’s just important to not get hung up on it, but you are allowed your feelings. I promise. 

[mittensmorgul]

I've watched season 11 again, and I have a question if you're willing to answer. In season 5, Cas was very disappointed about learning God was basically a "dead beat dad," as Dean called it. But when Cas had an opportunity to talk to Chuck, he didn't seem all that interested in talking to him or even asking a question or two. Why do you think they never had Cas interact with Chuck as a son talking to his father when it was such a huge deal for Cas in season 5?

Hi there! I’m happy to talk about this, because honestly I was personally GLAD that Cas treated Chuck the way he did in s11.

(A/N: I was halfway through writing this when my power went out last night, so now that everything is back on I’m gonna see if I remember wtf I was even talking about... if this goes sideways halfway through, blame Potomac Edison)

Cas had already realized long before exactly who and what Chuck was. I mean, not that Chuck was actually God, but that God and “His Plan” was always a load of BS.

Chuck left the angels a lot of conflicting information, and not a lot in the Free Will and Critical Thinking arena. I was just thinking about season 6, and this sort of feeds into a lot of the same distinction between Cas and the rest of the angels. My personal line of thinking earlier this evening was this line in 6.20:

CASTIEL I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you. DEAN Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me. CASTIEL You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will -- DEAN You're a freakin' child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Major Tangent Warning, because I gotta write out what I was thinking earlier in order to explain why I am So Pleased with Cas and his reaction to Chuck in s11, which I think of as abject disdain. This is key to everything Cas had learned, to all of his growth as a person up to that point.

What Dean tells Cas here is in direct contradiction to what Raphael’s self-stated motive in restarting the apocalypse was. Also from 6.20:

RAPHAEL You rebelled - against God, heaven, and me. Now you will atone. We'll start by freeing Lucifer and Michael from their cage. And then we'll get our show back on the road. CASTIEL Raphael...No. The Apocalypse doesn't have to be fought! RAPHAEL Of course it does. It's God's will. CASTIEL How can you say that?! RAPHAEL Because it's what I want. CASTIEL Well, the other angels won't let you. RAPHAEL Are you sure? You know better than anyone, Castiel. They're soldiers. They weren't built for freedom. They were built to follow.

Raphael is just doing “whatever he wants,” in the way Dean was trying to convince Cas NOT to. Because if Dean learns anything in s6, it is the cosmic cost of his own actions. Think 6.11, and the lessons he learns having to play Death for a day. As much as Dean tries to work around the Bigger Picture of the Universe, he does understand that there is a right and a wrong, and that some things are worth fighting or even dying for, but the cost might sometimes just be too great. And unleashing all the souls in purgatory on the planet seems like just a different sort of apocalyptic level of bad... like putting out a fire with a flamethrower.

Cas had to make a choice here. He’d chosen his path every step of the way, wrestled with each decision he’d had to make over the previous year leading up to that point, but he’d passed the point of no return, and his direct prayer to Chuck went unanswered, and he never got a sign whether he was doing the right thing or not.

I’ve argued in the past that he absolutely DID get a sign, in the form of Dean telling him to stop in 6.20. But Cas dismissed him, out of pride, out of hubris, out  of desperation to do the one thing he believed could give him the power to stop Apocalypse 2.0, save Heaven, and also save Dean in the process, since Dean would be back on the radar to be Michael’s vessel if Raphael succeeded in breaking him out of the Cage.

And here’s the really tangenty part of the tangent: it just made me think of all the nitwits who won’t wear a mask in public, or follow social distancing rules because MAH FREEDUMB, you’re impinging on MAH LIBERTY. BUT THE CONSTITUTION!

Because yes, we can do what we want, but we can’t do WHATEVER we want when our actions are harmful to others!

The framers of the Constitution could never have foreseen a pandemic like this. But any SOCIETY where people must coexist needs to put some constraints on liberty, and the framers absolutely DID understand this.

They also couldn’t have foreseen air travel, but we have established rules about this. They couldn’t have foreseen cars and traffic lights and interstate highways, and yet we have rules that govern our behavior there, as well. Air traffic controllers, stop signs, speed limits-- we don’t just have the right to drive 90 mph through a school zone and run through red lights. And yet nobody yells BUT MAH FREEDUMB! when they get a speeding ticket.

Polite society ALSO must include *MY* right not to be killed because someone else decided that traffic laws didn’t apply to them, see?

Basically, wear your mask and shut up about it, whiny pissbabies. This is what is required of you to live in a functioning society. You do NOT have the right to infect others with a potentially deadly illness. Full stop.

But back to Cas and the Leviathan infection he’s about to infest the entire planet with...

Dean was effectively giving him the “wear a mask, nitwit” speech, but on a cosmic level.

And Cas had to live with the consequences of his choice, with the GUILT and DEPRESSION that resulted. And he spent the next few seasons desperately trying to make up for what he’d done, to atone and do whatever he could to redeem himself-- to Dean. He’d tried to redeem himself to Heaven, but the more he eventually began to learn about Humanity, the less affinity he felt for his fellow angels, and for Chuck’s construct of Heaven.

Because back to another previous point, Chuck effectively left the angels two opposing sets of instructions: orders to watch over the earth and act as shepherds to humanity, and orders to bring on the apocalypse at any cost. Can’t do both, truly. Even Naomi will eventually say, right before Metatron stabs her in the head, that she (and the other angels) forgot that their true mission was to protect and defend humanity, and she didn’t know when or why that ever changed.

FINALLY back to the point! WHEEE!

Basically, Cas has, in the six years between s5 and s11, experienced “god-ness” from every angle, experienced his own guilt over what he now believes were misguided actions, that sometimes Humanity has a better answer, and there are some things that just aren’t worth it in the long run.

Mostly, he’s realized just HOW deadbeat Chuck has always been. And the revelation that Chuck had actually been God all along? Saw their pain and suffering at trying to STOP the apocalypse all those years before? KNEW FULL WELL that Sam, Dean and Cas were doing everything they could to try and save the world from basically the entirety of Heaven and Hell, who were plotting the destruction of humanity and most of creation with it. I mean... Cas spent s5 begging for God’s help, to save the world, to convince Michael and Lucifer that they did not have to destroy humanity, and Chuck... had done LESS than nothing. He’d sat there and ghoulishly watched the entire mess unfold like a bad tv show... oh wait... :’D

By s11, Lucifer had not reached that point that Cas had. Lucifer had many other issues, having been rejected and locked up for most of existence, and even HE had been the one in 5.22 to try and talk Michael out of enacting Chuck’s battle plan. Lucifer never had the experiences Cas did (and despite being given every opportunity to have them over the next few seasons after s11, he continues to reject those experienced at every turn anyway, only serving to highlight the difference between Cas and, honestly, most of the rest of the angels). Lucifer had a personal need for a direct apology from Chuck for everything he’d been put through-- starting with taking on the original Mark and ending with the cage.

Of course Lucifer didn’t get an honest apology, because in the end, it was all just a theoretical production to Chuck. He had never apologized, in any of his universes, to any of the beings he created. And he never would. And on some level, Cas-- via his experiences, what he himself had already come to understand about God and creation-- already understood this about Chuck.

Cas... didn’t care about him anymore. He cared about HUMANITY, about Chuck’s CREATION. The creator might be a worthless jerk, but what came out of his creation is a thing of ultimate beauty. Humanity, love, free will, and the beauty of the universe is what ends up saving the world in 11.23, so I’ve chosen to accept this read of Cas and his relationship and opinions of Chuck. Because it’s perfectly in line with the “moral” of season 11.

Plus it’s just so personally satisfying to me watching each individual character’s reactions to Chuck, and understanding how that aligns with all of their personal arcs.

Dean: brought the “how could your forsake your creation” of a broken-hearted son who has finally seen the truth. something he worked out YEARS ago between himself and his own father, so it didn’t come with that particular personal baggage and didn’t completely break him in the process (as it may have done with Cas had Chuck revealed himself, say, in 7.01...)

Sam: brought his life-long hope that God was real, his faith in God’s inherent “goodness,” did the Chuck Fanboy for a bit before seeing Chuck a lot more clearly. He was able to relinquish his idol worship of Chuck as the Savior of Humanity.

Cas: had brought his experience of Humanity and Godhood, the entire spectrum of Creation that he had experienced for himself and grown through. Cas, for all his mistakes, had never stopped TRYING to do the right thing, never stopped doing everything in his power to save humanity and creation from every cosmic threat, while Chuck himself had only hidden away and watched from the sidelines, when he’d ALWAYS had the power to make everything good and right and allow the Winchesters their peace. Honestly, what BETTER response than to treat Chuck like a bit of gum stuck to his shoe?

Metatron: who had basically spent s9 trying to turn himself into Chuck Lite, literally plagiarizing his Supernatural novels to create his own origin story as the new God, and failed miserably. What other angel could truly confront Chuck, writer to writer, and call him out for His Story? Even fallen as low as he could go, Metatron understood first-hand the responsibility of The Cosmic Author in ways even Cas couldn’t, because narrative symmetry. Metatron was always about the Word, as God’s Scribe. He was a bad copy of the original with the names scratched out. He basically wrote the worst self-insert fanfic of all time. And that gave him the narrative space to confront Chuck about everything that Cas no longer had. Cas had long since rejected that role, sided with Humanity, and smashed Chuck’s Word. The original tablet-breaker.

Crowley: carried on Crowley-ing. Doing the best he could with what he had, and somehow miraculously BS’ing his way through.

Rowena: recognized the Biggest Power in the room and ingratiated herself to it for comfort and protection, and hopefully for a bit of power and security.

Billie: gosh she just stepped in at the 11th hour to annoy Chuck. :’D

But yeah, I’ve always been incredibly pleased that Cas basically ignored Chuck in s11. Good for him.

[totaldramafan-lauri]

Reflecting (Keep Moving Forward followup)

So, uh....first off.....if you’re reading this, I hope you have a Merry Christmas (if you celebrate it)!

It’s been over a month since I made that vow to keep moving forward.....but it’s been so hard.....It’s getting easier recently, though, as I’ve been able to think clearer.....bit by bit.....

Below is gonna be me venting about stuff that happened, and about myself and the lessons I’ve learned, so if that doesn’t interest you, don’t bother reading. I just.....wanted to....spill things out somewhere, where I’m not forcing people to listen to me.....And hopefully, this’ll be the last post I’ll have about this subject, or at least, one this long....

When it happened.....I was so taken off-guard....I was devastated and worried....and in my fear, I focused on the wrong things.....

I was SO caught up on the fact that....my friends....who I care so much about.....who I liked talking to, and sharing things with, and had such fun with .....were accusing me of hurting them, which was like, one of my worst fears....I was so blindsided by how quickly things went south......from being told that I’m loved, valid, and that I’m not annoying, and I’m fun to be around....s-stuff I wanted to believe.....to suddenly being told that I WAS annoying and obnoxious the entire time, and that I was actually an awful, selfish guilt-tripper who only wanted attention.....And.....that’s.....that’s not me.....

They brought up past events that.....I’d already either apologized for, swore to never do again, or was already made aware of and was trying to dial back on.....A-and that made it worse.....It felt like none of that mattered.....that I was so terrible that I could never truly change for the better, even as I tried to....And the part that hurt the most about the whole thing was not being believed. I didn’t expect them to forgive me, especially not right away.....I just wanted them to believe me....But no one believed me when I apologized again. No one believed me when I told them I didn’t mean any harm to any of them, and said that I’m completely aware of my mistakes, trying to be better, and would try not to repeat any of the crap I did before. Nothing I said was hitting at all, it was like I was just white noise to them.....

And after it was over, I thought about it more, let it sit with me......as I sobbed my face off, of and on, for days.....I hated knowing I hurt my friends, I hated it, hated it.....Thinking about what they were going through around me....Were they really that hurt? Was I really as awful as they said? Am I really incapable of changing and being better? What should I do to make everyone happy? Is it best for them if I wasn’t there anymore? Is it best for everyone? Do I deserve this pain, for everyone’s sake? Is everyone better off if I.....went away.....forever......?

But thankfully.....the tears slowly dried.....Thanks to the friends I still have, I got back on my feet, though it took a bit......And I’ve obviously looked back on everything a LOT.....And as the pain dulled, I started to think clearer....And identify the root causes of my mistakes.

Yes....I did mess up. I’m not the victim here. Just because it hurt, doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve to be called out.  Everything I said before this was how I felt in the moment, but this is how I feel about it presently:

It’s true that I never wanted to hurt anyone. EVER. I’m one of the least threatening people on the planet. I’m a socially-awkward, anxious mess of a person who struggles with the simplest of things. I’m timid, shy, but once I get comfy, I’ll ramble on, and fangirl....and I get flustered very easily. When I get flustered, I say stupid things. I do stupid things. And.....I'm constantly worrying about being annoying. I never had any hidden agendas to “make everything revolve around me” or anything like that. In fact.....I HATE the feeling of controlling other people (It was actually a running thing that I was the most submissive person in the server). I prefer being a follower to a leader, scared of disappointing people I care for. And I NEVER wanted any more attention than anyone else. I know I’m not important. I was just another fangirl in a server full of them. A server that belonged to everyone equally......Everyone got to be happy, and that’s part of what made it so great.....Every time one of my friends got attention, I’d watch, sure, but I’d never intentionally take away from them. No matter how much I reacted, no matter how flustered I’d get, no matter how many stupid noises I made...If I knew that I was stealing attention, I would’ve tried to step back, but still getting anxious over letting people I care about down.....in case they really DID want to indulge me....

I absolutely hate forcing people to do things they don’t wanna do. Whenever someone does something for me, I want it to be because they WANT to. I’d ask things like “Are you sure?” out of anxiety. This is especially true of RPing. My anxiety over RPing is so bad that I’ll never initiate one. I always want people who RP with me to actively have fun doing it, not because I’m forcing it. I always worry about the people I do it with, and if they’re having fun, or if I’m being a waste of time....And if, at any point, I had picked up on the fact that I was forcing anything, I would’ve backed off right away and apologized.

So, me being called.....m-manipulative....? That hurt....because that’s not me.....and that’s why I.....got so defensive.....

But.....like I said at the start.....I was focusing on the wrong things.

Sure, that one part was a misunderstanding. But who flipping cares? I still messed up. I messed up BADLY. It doesn’t matter if it was intentional or not. I still hurt people I care about, and I still deserved to be called out for it. While it’s true that nothing I did was intentional, they still brought up good points about me that I needed to hear, even if it hurt. After letting everything sit with me for a month, I’m finally able to address it, and put it in text so that I’ll never forget it. I guess.....this is my own callout post to myself.

So....the biggest cause of all of this.....is self-hatred.

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that I.....don’t really have a high opinion of myself, and I consider everyone who I get attached to to be more deserving of nice things than me. The biggest example is when it comes to Spinel....I’d always be so so self-conscious when thinking about how she’d view me compared to my friends, who are more entertaining, and more deserving of her attention....at least, in my eyes. I wasn’t jealous of the attention they’d get, though (I’d cheer them on), I just looked up to them. At first, this wasn’t a huge problem as a lot of my friends had the same issues. But.....it got worse. Over time, my mind attacked me more and more.....I blamed myself for nearly every uncomfortable or bad situation that would happen.....and started to fear being left out and being alone. This led to situations of me basically going into tangents over how much I hate myself over things that had nothing to do with me. I’d blame myself, over and over again.....

Every single time I would beat myself up over being boring/useless/annoying/etc, my friends were always there, comforting me and making me feel better. But here’s the thing: I started doing this IN THE WRONG PLACES, at THE WRONG TIMES. Like, I would offhandedly mention how I wish I was more like someone else and have to be assured I was fine, during someone else’s moments, because I was an idiot and it didn’t hit me that people would actually stop what they’re doing to talk to me. I can even remember a few times when a friend was having a really bad day, and I would have a mental breakdown over worrying about them, needing to be calmed down. THAT could’ve been kept to myself. Like I said before, I never EVER intended to get special treatment compared to anyone else. But, the way I’d constantly moan about how “It’s all my fault”, “I’m so sorry I’m so annoying”, and especially the constant self-consciousness over Spinel.....All of that.....how every single time, it ended with people comforting me in some way......it was EASY for them to interpret all of that as guilt-trippy. I wasn’t aware of it then, but I can see why people would think that now. I kept doing it, cuz I was so comfortable venting to them that.....I got into a habit of it. In my head, it was just a thing that we all did, not just me. But I had no idea of what I was doing, and how often, until I had to have it spelled out to me......and that’s just....yikes. Luckily, I’ve learned now that there’s a time and a place to vent, and I’ve made a real effort to dial back on my self-deprecating comments, after being called out....but it didn’t matter anymore. It was one case of “I learned my lesson, but I did it so often in the past that no one believes me when I say that.” And I have no one to blame there but myself.....

But I will still take that message to heart, and will try to pass it to others. There’s a time and place to vent your insecurities. Do it in a dedicated space if you can. Don’t do it in a way that brings down the mood, or in any way that could be an interruption.

But that wasn’t the only mistake I made. Oh no no no. It gets even worse. My self-loathing issues have done worse than annoy people and get misinterpreted. I’ve said things that I extremely regret saying.

So.....in.....either late August or early September....around that time, things got a lot more stressful and sad in the server. There was a period where it seemed like every other day, a friend would have some kind of breakdown and leave the server. When someone I care about isn’t feeling well, my worry over them makes me overly-anxious, and....yyyyyyeah, my mind became even meaner to me. Th-the point is, people I cared about were having a hard time, and....I spent a lot of time worrying and stressing over them. I felt helpless.....I wished I could help them and make them feel better, the way they helped me....and, I started overthinking a lot of things, wondering if I was a bad friend.

I was so sick of myself for always saying “I suck at cheering people up besides being a distraction” and using that as an excuse to not do anything....It felt like I was doing the same thing over and over again: worrying about people while being too shy to reach out, and worrying that not reaching out made it seem like I didn’t really care.....

There’s one friend of mine.....who is really good at cheering me up when I’m depressed. He’s done it multiple times. I never ask to be cheered up, but.....he seems to always know what to say. And.....I look up to him. I wanna be a person like that.....a good friend who knows what to say......and......

And so I tried. After a certain point, I decided to stop whining and try reaching out to my friends more. I DMed more often, wrote them things, tried showing them I care. And at first, I thought I was doing the right thing, even if it was outside my comfort zone. It was worth it if I made someone feel just a little bit better while in a bad place.

But....I wasn’t good at it. At all. I was way too anxious to act calmly in those situations, and as a result, most of them.....didn’t go so well. As in, I never, I dunno, thought things through before saying them. Which, when talking to someone emotionally vulnerable, you should ALWAYS DO. I should know! I AM one of those people!

A lot of the time, I.....I struggle to convey my emotions properly. When I’m emotional, I say stupid things without thinking. Sometimes, it’s something that sounded fine in my head, but once I say it or type it out, I realize how wrong it really sounded. One thing about me is that I’ll never take the cheap excuse of “It was the autism’s fault” or “It was the anxiety’s fault”, because....stuff like that sounds so wrong to me. Those things are a part of myself, so blaming them is really just another way of saying that I was wrong. But yes, it’s true that a lot of autistic people suffer from the same social issues that I do. Coming off as insensitive by talking without thinking. This also goes back to what I mentioned earlier about how I act like an idiot when I’m flustered. I get emotional, I stop thinking. That’s all there is to it. And I wish I could just......stop.

While trying to talk to a friend who was going through a hard time, there were occasions where, either out of stress or evil brain jumping to conclusions, I would bring my self-loathing issues into the situation. AGAIN, with the self-loathing in the wrong place at the wrong time! When someone I care about isn’t feeling well, my worry over them makes me overly-anxious. ....I’d try to say “I hope you’re doing OK! We miss you!” and after a bit, it was devolve into “Please please come back, I’m sorry if I did anything wrong, I’m such an awful friend, boohoo”, and......yikes? After this distance, I realize just how badly-worded a lot of the stuff I said was.

Sometimes, I would catch on to what I said really quickly, instantly feel guilty, and delete the message, hoping no one saw it (guess what: that doesn’t change anything if they still saw it), but other times, I was so dang OBLIVIOUS to just how obnoxious I was acting, and needed it spelled out to me.

The ultimate irony is that, in trying to be there for my friends, I was such an emotional wreck that....I ended up coming across as selfish instead. The exact opposite of my intention.

I wanted to be like my friend, and failed. All cuz I let my own feelings get in the way.

Whenever I’d be called out on something, I’d apologize. And afterward, I’d do my very best to never repeat my mistakes. After being called out for sticking my nose in where I wasn’t wanted, I stopped initiating DMs with anyone who didn’t wanna talk, and made extra careful to double-check things I said. I was extra cautious about everything, scared of messing up again.

And....it seemed like my apologies were accepted, and things were fine again. But.....there came a point where it’d just been.....enough.

The damage was done. The conclusions about me were made. And my reaction - getting defensive over a misunderstanding instead of actually focusing on the fact that good points were made about me - didn’t help matters.

I poured my heart and soul apologizing to them, swearing over and over again that I learned my lesson. And.....almost no one believed me. Because I messed up THAT badly. Everything that came out of my mouth was taken as a sob story. And the feeling of not being believed and trusted anymore hurt so badly that I......shattered. I broke down.....

But now, thinking clearly, I see the full picture better. I see the truth behind the misunderstanding, and boil everything down to the core issues that I can focus on improving.

Sure, I’m not manipulative, and I’ll take those words to my grave. But I was still oblivious, annoying, invasive, and my self-loathing was a MAJOR problem that I let leak into too many conversations. It got to the point where it came off as guilt-trippy and attention-seeking. I can’t deny that anymore. That’s how people saw it. Sure, it was never intentional, but no more sugar-coating.

My biggest problems were: 1. The self-loathing problems, and 2. The obliviousness of what I was doing and how it made people feel. Those are the core issues. Everything else can be traced back here.

And.....that’s everything. All my self-reflecting, summed up here. A reminder of my mistakes.

I’m so sorry.....for everything I did. I’m working on it.....I promise. Thank you for letting me know.

This is the kind of apology I should’ve given them.....Properly self-aware, not that overdramatic mush....

.....I was never mad at them for saying those things. Even when the wounds were fresh, I was never mad at them, only myself and the situation.....I didn’t wanna hate them, I wanted to make things right.....And.....M-maybe it’s me being weak, but.....I still think the world of them now. I still think of them as my friends.....Especially now, when I can look back and try to understand why they did it. They were hurt, and they were only doing what was best for them......And I hope they’re all happy now that it’s taken care of. Cuz....they deserve to be happy.

I know that all I can really do is talk about how I feel, and give my side of the story, but I’ve still thought a lot about what they must have felt.....How hurt they were, what they thought, and if it was hard to do.....I can never truly know without communicating. And, for the sake of their privacy, and not bringing up specific details, I won’t put words in anyone’s mouth. This is mainly about my feelings, because that’s all I can share. But yes, this isn’t the whole story.

Sure, it still sucks, knowing that without some kind of magic lie detector, I can never truly prove that I never wanted to use or hurt anyone, and that I really did care about them so much.....but I have to live with it. This is the price I have to pay.

And through the experience, I learned important lessons that I’ll keep close to my heart.

Back when the wounds were fresh, I was blaming every little thing about me, trying to find justification that I was unlovable trash and didn’t deserve happiness. I blamed things that weren’t at fault at all, or that I have no control over, like preferences and squicks.....anything that could’ve been annoying people all along......But, I think I finally got it straightened out now.

My feelings for Spinel aren’t at fault here. (After all, I wasn’t the only one who had them) While my ramblings about not feeling worthy of her attention, and the stupid things I’d say when flustered over her, caused some issues, those things stem from personal faults of mine that have always been there. My self-loathing would still be just as bad if she wasn’t there. I’d just be directing it at something or someone else. So, no, I’m not forcing myself to get over her. I don’t blame her. Thinking about her brings me comfort still, after all this time....and I don’t wanna let that go. I can improve as a person, and still.....l-love her.....

No, I learned what I REALLY have to change, and have already made the steps to do so. I’ve made new rules for myself. I’ve started internalizing my self hatred and anxiety more instead of oversharing it. I only vent my issues in private places, or on here, where I’m not forcing people to read my crap. I’m DONE with forcing anyone to listen over and over again about how I hate myself, and.....how I’m now in this endless cycle of hating myself FOR hating myself.....it’s a lose-lose situation either way. Point is, no more of those self-loathing tangents unless it’s called for.

And other things, too......I’ve been extra careful about RPing, I’ve been extra careful about joining conversations, and.....about everything, really. Especially DMing. Now more than ever, I’m scared of forcing people to pay attention to me....I’m worried about coming off the wrong way. When someone pays attention to me, I don’t want it to be forced. I wanna believe I deserve it. If I ever deserve anything.....(And finally, one last minor change: I’ll no longer voice chat unless I’m muted. My voice is seriously obnoxious, especially when flustered, to the point where I’ll unintentionally insert myself into conversations just by making stupid noises in the background. I’m too loud. SCREW my voice. I hate my voice. No more.)

And, as the past month or so has gone on, and I’ve slowly recovered, and gotten past this period of self-reflection.....I’ve started talking to people again, slowly regaining the confidence to do so.....while keeping my new rules in mind. And, I’m happy to say that I haven’t messed up.....yet. Don’t wanna jinx it. But yeah.....maybe I really have improved.....

And.....for the past couple weeks.....I’ve been......happy? Well, the happiest I’ve been since that day. I’m no longer miserable, and I’m in good spirits. That’s good, cuz it means that I’m not bothering people!

So....I’m optimistic. Maybe that’s a bad thing.....but at the moment, it doesn’t feel that way.

In the near future, I.....I do wanna reach out to the friends I hurt. I wanna try apologizing one last time. Maybe that’s me not wanting to let go, but.....I really care for them, and we had so much fun together......It felt like we made each other happy, before everything got bad.....I don’t wanna feel like everything we ever did was because I was awful.....the whole time.....I don’t want the memories to be tainted.....

But.....I’m scared to go back right now......I’m scared of messing it up by getting emotional again. If they don’t forgive me, that’s fine. That’s their choice to make. But I at least want them to believe me.....and if that doesn’t happen, then it’s my fault again.

So....yeah.....I do wanna go back and give it one last try.....but later, when I’m SURE I’m ready. For now, as long as I feel like there’s a part of me that’s gonna get all dramatic and moody, I’m not ready. Cuz I wanna push that part of me away. No more pity parties. No more....no more talking over them. I’ll let them beat into me if it’ll make them feel better......and I’ll be happy to be forgiven, if that’ll make them feel better.

Either way, I don’t want it to end like this....but......is it selfish to want closure? Cuz, even if I don’t get forgiveness.....at least give me that. At least let me end this on a respectful note. Cuz....I don’t wanna be a coward. I don’t wanna just.....move on without taking the steps to fix the situation, especially with the people that were there for me so often......

Geez, this got long......sorry if you read all of this. I just.....wanted to put this all somewhere......TLDR: I’m so incredibly sorry for everything I’ve ever done, and I’m taking the steps I can to improve myself and become a better person. It’s not easy, and I’ll never forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made.....but I’ll try to get there somehow.

Keep moving forward......

[nonoahstop]

@derpam Oh, it's no problem, I’m always up for writing one of these❤ I decided to go with one child per LI so I could keep the length the same and not pick a favorite, I hope that's okay? And thank you so much haha I struggled to try and make everyone different so I appreciate that❤ In this I tried to use different reasons a kid would get bullied such as how they interact and even medical conditions.

The guys + Asra’s reaction to their child getting bullied and how they’d handle it

Asra:

All three of you were heading home after picking your child up. You both hold one hand each, a parent on each side.

You noticed your child is a little bit more quiet than usual. They just walk along aside you both silently not even attempting to kick a rock about or go running off to pick up a cool stick.

You throw Asra a knowing look and mouth the words “Something is wrong” in which he gives you an agreeing nod in return.

Asra initiates calm supportive parent mode.

 “Hey... Anything up? Your a little quiet...” they give a small shrug.

“There is a meanie at school, they keep talking about my white hair and how it's too fluffy... They keep calling me a bunny, I thought they would stop... I don't look funny do I?” your heart sinks in your chest.

Asra kneels down. “Of course not! I have fluffy hair too, it's just like yours. I think that bunnies are adorable just like you” he ruffles their hair and gives them a warm smile.

“I also know they can jump reeeeeally high!” you both take hold of their hand again and start swinging them.

“One... Two... Three!” You all laugh along on your way back home hoping Asras little pep talk was enough to take it off their mind.

That night as you both tuck in your little one, you agree that you would meet with the headteacher to go over things and see what can be done.

“I don't think we should go to the parents I don't want them to feel as if we're looking down on their child, I know we can talk to their teacher and have a little talk. These things happen, they don't really understand yet.”

You get ready for the day and find Faust snuggled up in blankets with the little one and call Asra too have a look, you both watch in awe.

...Okay back on track!

As you both drop off your kid in the morning you pull aside the teacher before the day starts.

“Oh, the Alnazars, is everything alright?” they step outside the classroom with you both closing the door behind them.

“If you wouldn't mind, I was hoping we could talk about a little situation we’re having regarding a bully.”

“Oh, of course!.” You both talk about your troubles and how you're concerned about the wellbeing of your child.

“Oh wow, I’ll have a little talk with them. I promise to take care of the situation.”

“Thank you.”

A few days pass and on your way back home you ask how everything is doing again.

“Has that bully said anything to you so far?” They turn back smiling.

“No, I don't know why because they thought it was funny? Also, I found out that rabbits are really cool! The teacher was telling the class about all kinds of bunnies.” you give Asra a knowing glance.

“Just saying if they ever start on you again, blast ‘em!” Asra gives them a few finger guns.

“What!? No- don't do that!

You whisper to Asra “You know what happened last time they decided to, ‘blast ‘em’...”

You have flashbacks to when you were both called in because your child accidentally set the book corner up in flames...

Asra gives you a wide grin and a nudge to the side.

Julian:

You walk behind as Julian play fights with your child, gently poking them with the stick here and there and even doing a few dramatic death scenes but of course...

“I can never die!” and he comes back as a ghost and dies again... and again and-

It’s a fun journey back home and nothing seems to be the matter.

That day you went to Portia's for dinner to have a family get together.

After dinner, you sit out on the porch for a while hoping to let out some pent up energy before its time to head home and go to bed.

All three of you sit on the steps as you watch the sun fall over the garden, you feel a tug on your arm as Julian signals too your child.

You see them sitting there head in their hands looking of somewhere a sad smile across their face.

“Kiddo, what wrong?” they lean over resting their head on Julian's arm.

“Is there something wrong with me? Why do people make fun of me for being happy?”

Julian's eyebrows furrow as he puts on a serious face now wrapping an arm around his child.

“What do you mean sweetie?”

“Well this kid thinks it's weird I run around more than everyone else, they told me I’m what their parents call ‘too much’...”

Julian shifts in his seat. “My dear, you are a ball of energy that can’t be contained and that's what makes you special... They aren't cool like you, you know what they have?”

They give him a small smile. “What?”

“A cold heart and nobody wants that.”

Upon arriving home you go to tuck your child in for the night as Julian scans his patient books for the families name.

“Let's have a talk with them it will be fine I just need to explain what's going on because it’s not fair our child should be bullied for having ADHD...”

You meet up with the parents before school the next day and ask if they would like to come to dinner to talk over things.

You both calmly go over the situation and explain what's going on. The parents end up being embarrassed about their actions and apologize that the situation happened in the first place.

“I’m sorry that happened... I apologize for our words and the effects they had on our child...”

“Thank you, we really appreciate that...”

You finish the meal and wave the couple on their way, the mess now over.

“Charmer...” Julian turns and gives a wide grin.

“Well, who else will give them a checkup? I’m their doctor, after all, I don't think they want to get on my bad side.”

You notice more of a spring in your child's step as well as them slowly slinking into their old self not feeling self-conscious of their actions and it brings a peaceful feeling over you both.

Muriel:

You go in to collect your child as Muriel waits outside by the gate away from the school ground.

Everything seems okay as your leaving until you hear soft little sobs as you make your way over to Muriel.

You can see the shock in Muriel's face as he kneels down pulling them into a hug.

“... Do you want to talk about it?...” they shake their head as they nuzzle into him.

“Maybe later?” they give a small nod before Muriel scoops them up wrapping them in his cloak.

You give a light kiss to their head as well as one to Muriel’s cheek and head home walking in silence.

You pick up the blanket you left by the fire and crawl into bed wrapping your child up. Muriel heads over to bed too.

“Are you feeling up for telling us what's wrong?” they snuggle closer to the both of you.

“Why can't people leave me alone? I just want to be away from everyone, I keep getting made fun of because I have no friends...” they begin to cry again.

 Muriel wraps an arm around them giving them a soft kiss to the head.

“Don’t worry I know how you feel, it's not nice... When I was little I just wanted to be on my own too, it's not weird.”

They let out a few sniffles. “It's not? Then why am I being made fun of?”

“People just don't understand...”

The conversation ends there and you slowly comfort your child till the fall asleep leading to you slipping into sleep as well.

On your way to school that morning Muriel tells you he wants to come up to the classroom this time and it makes you smile.

“I think they would like that” and you both share a glance at your child looking off to the distance walking in silence.

When you arrive you see a child staring at Muriel; a hulking 6′10 man littered with scary scars and huge muscles holding onto your small child.

Your child gives a light tug to Muriel's cloak and points over at the bully.

Muriel turns an annoyed painted on his face.

The child's face is stuck with horror as they turn to run, tripping over themselves and skidding on the floor in an attempt to run to their parents.

Muriel looks back at you blushing obviously feeling guilty.

“I uh... I didn't mean too...” he looks away in shame.

You let out a small laugh resting a hand on his back.

“I know Muri.”

“I think I'm too scary for the kids...”

“Maybe to some but they don't know what your life. Your a soft sweet man”

You plant a kiss to his now blushing cheek reassuring him.

Needless to say, the kid didn't want to pick on your child now knowing what was in store for them on the other side

Lucio:

You both stand outside waiting for your child to get out of school.

You hear a temper tantrum range near and you and Lucio both look over confused.

You see your child chucking things around and kicking the wall causing a scene.

“Woah, hey, it's alright”

They continue to throw a tantrum as the teacher stands there helpless eventually retreating to the classroom.

“NO, IT’S NOT! I HATE THEM!”

“Hate who?” they point over to a child getting ready for home time.

“What did they do?”

“They were trying to spread rumors about me! They said I shouldn't have any friends because I’m stuck up!” Lucio lets out a loud and dramatic gasp.

“They said what!?” Now furious he stomps over to the parents.

“Lucio no- Don't go over to the... Oh no...” you see him shouting up a storm at the couple accusing them of having bad parenting skills.

The parents look over to you in a plea of help.

Lucio ends up storming into the class shouting at the teacher now.

“You should put your teaching skills to good use and show all of them some manners!” he points back at the parents still going off on a tangent.

You cover your face in shame not being able to look the couple in the eye.

The three of you end up inside the class in chairs too small to accommodate your large figures, your knees almost up to your chest.

Despite the embarrassing situation, the one funny thing about it all is the way Lucio looks sitting in the tiny chair so compressed yet he still chooses to cross his arms in a huff.

He’s just one big man child...

Throughout the whole meeting, all you can hear from him is huffs and tongue clicks, you eventually have to jab him in the side to stop him from glaring at the child.

The meeting ends and the family quickly rushes away, you catch Lucio giving the child an “I’m watching you” hand gesture out of the corner of your eye and you swat his hand away.

You sigh and pinch your brow. “Lucio I love you but you can’t go about treating situations like that.”

“Well, it worked didn’t it?”

“I- Yes... but you still can't do that...” he shrugs his shoulders and turns to your child.

“See papas got your back! Now, how about we go out and do something fun?” a bright smile crosses their face as Lucio lifts them up and sits them on top of his shoulders.

Honestly, you don't know who acted more like a child in this situation Lucio or the actual children, but I guess you see who they get their attitude from...

You add that to the book of unforgettable things and try to sweep it under the rug.

At least for the moment, you can appreciate the bond they both have. Maybe he’s so protective because he never had the same care and emotion from his parents?

Either way, no matter which way he shows it you know his love is unconditional.

[detectivesplotslies]

Boldly Going Going Gone

Oumota Week 2019 - Day 4: Fake Dating  / University

Description: Kaito's having enough trouble getting to class on time every week, and now he's found a distracting classmate that has his mind wandering all the while he's there! Word Count: 4228

Read on AO3 here

Note: This one’s been a bit delayed but I had this idea for it back during oumota week and I wanted to definitely get it done so here we are, late but better than never! Thank you @ryouverua & @sleeby-witch for beta edits and help <3 And a HUGE shout out to @golden-redhead for doing so much hard work organizing @oumota-events it was so great! Enjoy~!

---

Kaito Momota was always talking about getting ahead, pushing forwards, doing more. The impossible is possible; you just have to make it so, right? Well he was feeling a tinge of regret that his advisor had agreed wholeheartedly when making his schedule for that term. Back to back classes, club meetings, and a ton of volunteer work later, he knew that next year he might have to cool it on the impossible and try for the functional. 

In theory, the half hour between his History of Astronomy class and his Advanced Astrophysics class should have been enough.  When they had originally chosen those times, neither the rooms or the professors had been decided. How was he supposed to know the lectures were going to be on the exact opposite sides of the campus? Or that Prof. Jiha liked to go on long tangents that went overtime, had a strict attendance policy, and usually excused them a good 15 minutes late? Meanwhile, Prof. Idabashi always started punctually on the dot. There was no way to catch a break here! For the past two weeks he’d been running across campus as best he could and both times Kaito had arrived late and sweaty, hunting down a free seat at the back of the lecture hall while everyone watched. At least he could drop his workout for the day from his schedule. He didn’t mind all eyes on him, but he really wished he could get a seat in the front for once. 

Now, three weeks into classes, not much had changed. As usual, he was hurrying into the room with a quick apology shouted to the prof, who just nodded and continued to outline today’s topic, galaxy formation apparently, and looked for a seat. For once there was one near the middle of the hall, and despite having to push past a few people to get to it, it was his! 

Kaito sat in the seat, plopped his bag down, books on the fold out table arm for the lecture hall chair, and sighed. He received a shush from either side and a giggle from in front of him as the occupant turned to glance back at him briefly and roll his eyes. Kaito managed an apologetic look, but he found himself staring at the boy who laughed. Most of the other students were dressed more seriously, or at least comfortably, but this guy looked like he was dressed for a rave. Bright neon colours, netting, tight clothes, bracelets, and a black and white checkered scarf to top it all off - it all clashed so gratuitously that it felt like an assault on his eyes. His staring was met with a mischievous grin, and Kaito felt the heat rushing to his face. The boy turned back around in his seat, dark purple locks bouncing with his head as he did. Was he a non-major? Arts or theatre maybe? He stuck out like a sore thumb covered in kiddie bandaids. Kaito swore he hadn’t seen him before in any of the other classes he was in, or even this one. Then again it’s not like he’d met anyone new in Astrophysics yet given how he was always late and no one stuck around afterwards so maybe- 

Someone next to him dropped a pen and reached for it his peripheral, and Kaito snapped out of it. Right, the lecture! He hurriedly flipped through his books for the notepad and started copying out what was already on the whiteboard, attention back to the professor where it was due. He swore he heard that giggle again, though, even though that purple-haired head never turned back. 

Soon he settled into note taking and asking questions when the professor prompted, asking for expansion on things, and clarification. It wasn’t the coolest thing to do, but this stuff would be good to know in space, and he wasn’t gonna ignore it just because it wasn’t likely to be on the exam. Even so, with all the engagement, he kept stealing glances at the boy in front of him. He’d propped his phone up in a rainbow-patterned mug on his desk arm. Why did he have an empty ceramic mug in class anyways? Everyone else had paper cups from the nearby café. He hoped it was empty at least, or that poor phone was being punished. The boy had no paper or pen out, and he was alternating between picking at his nails and tugging at his hair idly. He didn’t ask any questions, either, but Kaito supposed that was normal enough considering the class size of 200. But something about him just kept distracting him from taking notes, despite the fact nothing he did was particularly attention grabbing. Maybe it was because of how little he was doing? Eventually Prof. Idabashi started to list the readings for next week, and Kaito turned to pick up his bag and stow his notes.  Not a minute later he looked up and among the first few to filter out of the class, the checkered-scarf kid was gone. For a second, he’s disappointed - he really did want to ask what his major was - but Kaito’s schedule waited for no man, and he headed off for a club meeting, scratching the back of his head as he thought. He kept his eyes peeled as he walked through the quad, but no telltale checkers.

Next week, Kaito arrived late as always, and had less luck with a seat, having to cram into one on an aisle in the very back left. Terrible view, and straining to hear, he tried to catch up as quickly as he could manage. Everything was very mathematical today, so he copied and figured he’d read it all over after. 

His eyes scanned the auditorium below him, hoping to spot that same guy. Why was he hoping again? Regardless, there he was, near the center, tugging at his purple locks again and- did he have a pie on his desk? With a spoon in it?? Was that allowed??? Kaito watched as this tiny guy took down an entire blueberry pie before the lecture even ended. Honestly, it was kind of impressive. 

It was because he was watching him that this time Kaito saw how quickly Checkers left, shoving the whole pie tray and that same mug into his bag in one fell swoop, swinging it on his back and hopping over the others in the row on the way to the door. 

Over the next few weeks, the boy Kaito only called Checkers continued to be a spectacle to anyone taking an interest. Flicking elastic bands at classmates, miming all of Professor Idabashi’s gestures, and even painting his nails at his seat. That last one should have caused a fuss, given the smell but no one else seemed to care. The student body’s apathy was strong. He’d seen him in bright pink, yellow, lime & purple, and even a traffic cone orange ensemble. Spotting him was never a challenge no matter where he sat. He was never on his phone, it just sat next to him propped up in the mug, but he took out an old school gameboy, a slinky and even some YuGiOh cards. 

On the day it rained Kaito had been soaked hair to toe, and when he walked in late it was Checkers who started a wolf whistle that spread embarrassingly through the hall as others joined in until Prof. Idabashi called for some professionalism. Kaito sat in the very back that day even with the free seats closer, his face red under the wet hair hanging loose.

The next week, however, his History of Astronomy lecture was cancelled. 

Kaito hadn’t really thought about it until he was headed to Astrophysics, but he could sit beside Checkers and actually ask him about why he had that mug today if he wanted. There was no other reason, of course. Why would there be another reason? He was just curious. With nervous energy and anticipation, he got there early by 15 minutes, and stepped into the hall, looking through the auditorium seats to realize that Checkers wasn’t even here yet. Great… So Kaito hovered at the front of the room, awkwardly leaning against the wall, smiling and nodding at the professor as he arrived. He ended up holding open the door and greeting most of his cohort as they came in too, asking how their other classes were going. He was laughing so hard at one of his classmate’s jokes that he almost missed the short boy in the checkered scarf ducking past him and racing up the aisle to a seat two steps at a time. He hopped down a row and sat next to someone, but there was still a free seat just past him. Kaito quickly excused himself from the conversation to a much confused classmate who was halfway through the next joke, and chased after him. 

Kaito headed down the row, carefully so as not to knock anyone. The boy looked up as he passed in front of him and sat down, purple eyes following him to the spot. Kaito grinned, lifted a hand and said, “Hey!” 

“Uh, hey,” Checkers said with a quick smile before going back to reaching into his bag. It hit Kaito then and there that watching someone over multiple classes was not the same as actually knowing them. They hadn’t even talked that time he was shushed. How do you even start a conversation without letting on that you’ve been essentially creeping someone? Despite the realization, he kept the grin plastered on his face and started to take out his notes. 

Kaito tapped his pen idly and gave the boy a sidelong glance. Today he was wearing a magenta shirt with some bright yellow diagonal stripes over teal leggings, and his checkered scarf, of course. He slid out of his bag a pack of gummy worms, a pair of chopsticks, and the rainbow mug, placing each on the desk-arm carefully. Then he plucked up his phone and placed it in the mug, and Kaito’s eyes widened. Of course! He could ask about that like he planned and use it as an opener! How had he forgot? “What’s that for?” Kaito asked, pointing at the mug that had the phone sitting in it with the pen in his hand. Checkers looked at him, expression painted with disbelief, and dramatically lifted the mug by the handle. “It’s for bringing a beverage to your lips! You know the handle’s really important for not burning yourself. I’m surprised a future rocket scientist doesn’t know that! They must have lowered their standards,” he answered smugly with a wide grin as he waved the cup about. “I know what a mug is!” Kaito sputtered. “I meant that,” he jabbed at the phone. He immediately regretted it.

“Ohhhh, you mean the smartphone! It’s a wonderful device, for all sorts of things, like asking dumb questions on calls, on text and on the internet! You should totally get one, you’re a natural!”

“That’s not what I- oh nevermind,” Kaito said, crossing his arms with a newly flushed face. Now he just looked like an idiot, and maybe the answer was something just as obvious. The boy tilted his head, loose hair bouncing around. He placed the mug down carefully, and tore open the gummy worms wrapper, and offered it. “Aw c’mon now, learning new things is what we’re all here for riiiiiight? Worm?” Kaito eyed the gummies a moment, then reached and took one. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

He popped it in his mouth to chew on. “Plus you deserve a treat, since you made it this time.” Kaito glanced back to see that same mischievous smile he saw the first time he looked at him a few weeks ago. Through the mouthful of worm he asked, “What?” “Oh, but I would definitely say your hair product of choice last time was much better. Rain water really does that look good.” Before Kaito could respond, Prof. Idabashi started talking below them at the front, quieting everyone and announcing the lesson for the day, while referring everyone to the syllabus. Once he turned to write on the board, Kaito pivoted back to Checkers, seeing him with the phone in his hand briefly before he placed it carefully back in the mug. “What was that about my hair??” He asked in a harsh whisper, earning a few glances from those around them. The boy just placed a finger to his lips and grinned. “Shhhh, it’s class time for good boys and girls. Don’t you have to pay attention or something?” “But-” “Shhhh,” He repeated with a giggle, sitting back in his seat with his arms crossed behind his head. 

Kaito frowned and got to copying down the topic for the lecture. What a hypocrite, telling him to pay attention when he never did himself. True to the trend, not even 15 minutes into the class, the gummy worm bag and the chopsticks were picked up, and Checkers began to eat them like they were noodles. He dangled them above his mouth precariously to drop and catch in his mouth, though sometimes awkwardly landing on his nose. A couple tumbled to the floor. Then he switched to stretching the worms out obnoxiously in front of him, one end between his teeth, the other pinched in the chopsticks until they snapped. It was completely ridiculous. It was distracting as hell. He wasn’t sure when he’d stopped writing and started to stare, but he noticed when he was caught, since Checkers made eye contact, grinned with the worm between his teeth and waggled his eyebrows. Kaito looked away immediately, red-faced, back to the board, cause oh man that was rude of him, no matter what dumb slacker stuff that was- Kaito felt a nudge on his arm and glanced back to see the bag of gummy worms poking him, offered once more. He took one and opened his mouth to thank him, only for the boy to put a finger to his own lips again, reminding him to shush. Kaito rolled his eyes but grinned, and ate his gummy worm while he caught up on his notes. His neighbour went back to eating his more dramatically.

At the end of the lecture, the professor alluded to the breakdown for the exam, and Kaito raised his hand to ask for clarification. It sounded like something he must have missed at the beginning of one of the previous weeks. He got his answer, and turned to-

Checkers was already gone, with half of the class filtering out while he and the professor had talked. Kaito frantically looked, shoving his stuff into his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder before he ran down. But even as he made it to the hallway and craned his neck to look over the packed crowd of students he didn’t see him. Damnit, he hadn’t asked his name yet!

Kaito took a breath and kneaded his brow. Alright, that’s fine. Even if his motto had given him pain this term, the impossible was possible. He’d get to class early next week, even with History of Astronomy. He clenched a fist and headed off to his club meeting, thoughts preoccupied.

He made his plan.

Next week, Kaito borrowed his roommate’s bike. He could get to his criminology class without it if he left earlier, and Kaito promised him some takeout on the way back, even though he offered the bike without expectations. Next step to the plan was getting the seat right next to the door in History of Astronomy, and packing his stuff as soon as Prof. Jiha started winding down. Sure he couldn’t run out of there while he was still going, but as soon as he stopped Kaito was ready. 

He slapped the bike helmet on his head with a crunch of the spiked hair beneath it and pedaled his way across campus with plenty of time to spare! Kaito parked and locked the bike, heading into the hall with the helmet under his arm. He had about 5 minutes, and he scanned the already seated students. He didn’t see him yet, so took up his spot by the door, waving and smiling as people as they arrived. But the minutes ticked by, and he started to frown a bit, glancing back into the hallway a few times. Where was he? Did something happen? There was no sign of the dark purple locks or the bright startling fashion anywhere as he stood there like a store greeter. The Professor called the attention of the class, and Kaito reluctantly left the door, looking over the auditorium one more time. His heart caught in his throat for a moment when he scanned the crowd and caught sight of a checkered scarf; but he then saw it was someone else with the same one, a girl with blonde hair in two ponytails and a hoodie. With a sigh, he went to grab a seat before the lecture finally started. Ironically, it one of his usual bad seats at the back after how long he waited. 

Whatever reason Checkers had for being absent, Kaito couldn’t guess it. He just didn’t know enough. Kaito took his notes and watched the door through the whole lecture. Next week was their big exam, today was their review. He’d have to be there next time. All Kaito had to do was do the same thing he did today, arrive nice and early. Hell, he sort of had to do that anyways, they didn’t let you into exams late!

A week of studying hard, couple more promises to his roommate, a secured bike, and a confident attitude later, Kaito was ready! He was gonna pass his exams with flying colours, he was gonna finally get that boy’s name, and he was gonna do both today! History of Astronomy’s exam was a snap, because honestly the calculations and theorems were a lot simpler back when everything was done from the Earth’s surface. Space travel was a great advance, but it had made measurements regarding stars a lot more involved. Kaito handed in his answers and luckily there was no way to go over time when an exam was happening. He was out of there on the bike, grinning the whole time, going over his Advanced Astrophysics under his breath one last time. 

He arrived at the class first for the most part, a few stray keeners already in their seats. Kaito didn’t wait at the door this time, no he had a plan. He grabbed himself a seat near the center, on the aisle, and put his backpack and helmet down on the spot next to him. He’d wave him down and say he’d saved him a seat! That’s easy enough right, and all he needed to throw in was how he never caught his name. Perfect. The tension in his stomach eased just like that. He got his pen out for the easier part of the day. Tests were so much less trouble than this. He waited, watching the door and clock. 

His classmates started to arrive. Some seemed animated, some lethargic. A good few looked like they hadn’t slept, and one looked to be on the verge of tears. Kaito winced sympathetically and flashed the girl a thumbs up. Exams were definitely hard on some people. He wouldn’t want anyone to fail if they could help it. Kaito was getting anxious about something else, however. The seats were filling up quickly and there was no sign of Checkers. He checked the clock. 2 minutes left to go. Even that girl with the blonde twintails wearing the same scarf was there, hurrying passed him for a seat near the middle. Kaito looked to the door, hopes plummeting as the teaching assistant closed it. The test was starting.

Kaito started to write, answers quick to his fingers, but his thoughts lingered elsewhere. Was he ditching the exam? Why would he do that, it was more than half their grade! So irresponsible! He crossed out a line as he realized he’d started to write an answer on the wrong section, in the clash between the stream of questions in his head and on the page. Gritting his teeth he focused on getting the exam done, pushing the worries back for later. 

When it came down to it, the test itself wasn’t all that tricky. Kaito had studied plenty, he knew the material. He checked it over, handed it in, and with a half hour remaining, gathered his things to leave. He stepped out into the hall and the worry came back with a rush. Pacing a bit he tried to think. Maybe he was sick, maybe he told the professor and was excused. Maybe an emergency had come up. Maybe he couldn’t get to the exam because something happened to him? He stopped pacing abruptly, that thought settling like a stone in his chest, hard and painful. Kaito shoved it and the others away. This was hardly the time for worst case scenarios, especially ones he couldn’t help with. Believe in a better answer and he could work with it. Today’s exam was the last class of the term. If Checkers was a non-major like he thought, how was he gonna run into him again? Not that it was that important but… ah screw it, it was. He really wanted this and he wasn’t going to let the fact it seemed impossible be the end of it. He tried to think of another link, like his roommate would. The clothes? Maybe there was a shop or brand he liked? The gummy worms? Probably not track-able. The scarf? It was pretty unique, except for that one girl-

Kaito’s eyebrows shot up. Maybe she got it the same place he did? Maybe she knew him! As though on cue, the girl with the blonde twintails walked out of the exam room, looking like she wanted to go collapse. Well it was worth a shot! Kaito walked up to her hopefully and stepped into her path. She looked up at him in confusion. “Hey! Sorry, this might be a little weird, but I was wondering where you got that scarf. See there’s a guy I’ve seen in class with it, but he wasn’t here today, but I wanted to ask him something,” Kaito rambled, smiling the whole time, and scratched the back of his head. God, he hoped he wasn’t off the mark, for all he knew those scarves were everywhere. She squinted at him for a moment in silence, looking him over, then her eyes widened and a mischievous smile, one that reminded him of a certain someone, appeared on her face.

“OH you must be Tardy! Yeah, the scarves are custom, but I know where he is,” She said, inspecting him closely. He took a step back. “Tardy…?” Kaito asked, brows furrowing. Did he know this girl? Or did she think she knew him from somewhere. “Yeah, the guy who’s always late but built! You’re never in frame in the shots cause of where the door is, but he always gives me the scoop,” She said with a laugh, and hooked his arm in hers. “C’mon, we don’t want to be tardy, Tardy!”

Suddenly, Kaito was inexplicably being led down the hallway, his destination a mystery.  He decided not to mention the bike he had, despite the helmet under his other arm she had clearly missed, he could always come back for it later. This had to be more important. She started talking about things he did that were apparently hilarious that she wished she was there for. That she somehow knew about?? Kaito nodded as she spoke a mile a minute, and caught-on along the way. She’d been seeing videos of the class. She’d been sick for weeks and couldn’t get out to them. Ouma, Checkers’ actual name apparently, had been going for her so she didn’t have to drop the course. She couldn’t afford an extra term’s tuition and he’d hear none of her dropping out nonsense- wait- THAT’S WHAT THE PHONE IN THE MUG WAS FOR, FOR FILMING WITHOUT HAVING TO HOLD IT. Kaito felt like kicking himself, it made sense, he had just been so stuck on the mug itself. He wasn’t ditching afterall, he wasn’t in the class. So he was never a hypocrite for not listening, either. You can really get a lot wrong without some key details.

Eventually they made it to the theatre building. Kaito grinned. At least he had been right about something! She stopped them at a small out of the way classroom door, with a small paper sign bearing a checkered design along its border. A pair of masks doodled on it, the comedy and tragedy faces, and below them was written “D.I.C.E. - Daring Improvisational Candid Entertainment!!!!” 

She opened the door, and inside were a bunch of other students in checkered scarves. They waved their hands about, shouted, pleaded, sang, threw things around, and there in the middle was the boy with the purple locks, Kokichi Ouma, standing on a chair, poised as if commanding them into battle. He glanced up from the scene to the door, spotted Kaito, and grinned. 

And Kaito grinned back.

[nerdylittoyvoid]

Know-it-all : G.D.

A/N : This whole thing was inspired by @milliondollardolan and their writing. Reading their stuff really wanted me to get back into the groove of writing.This one is more of a rant in the form of fiction. I can’t be the only one frustrated with the issues presented here. 

The goal here wasn’t to make the reader seem as if she’s reactive or passive, but to seem more real in her insecurities. 

My hope is that it isn’t read as more of a tangent than having actual flow and, that you find elements that you can identify with. Moreover, I hope that you enjoy it! 

She really couldn’t help it. After all, we’re all products of our own upbringing.

Y/N sat in the loud pub with the small gang comprising of Ethan, Grayson, Emma and one of her close friends, Morgan.

The traditional green walls mixed with the dark painted beams made her feel as if she was in Britain, a place she always wanted to visit. Pale string lights were hung from the ceiling only adding to the oxymoron that was this pub; chaotically calming. With her chin resting on her hand, Y/N took in the people at the tables around her. There were a group of guys sat at a table closer to the bar, giving in their two-cents to the game being broadcasted on the flat screen TVs hung all throughout the pub. Across from where she was, she noticed a family all laughing together, almost as if they were reminiscing. To the side of them stood a couple balloons. One read Happy Birthday! , the other, a simple 21 years old!

 With the lively setting surrounding her, her focus remained on the couples throughout the establishment. She noticed how they were flirting, laughing and finding safety in each other’s company. As bitter as it sounded, she couldn’t help but feel repulsion. Not to the couples, of course, she was more than happy for them. It was more the idea of being that vulnerable with somebody – having them know you through and through. It didn’t help that she had a huge, no good, emotionally draining crush on Grayson.

What was even more confusing was that, despite her longing to simply be with him, she was faced with uncertainty due to multiple past relationships of which were, disempowering to say the least. She noticed how her boldness started chipping. What made it worse for her was the subtle misogyny she grew up with. The small phrases she would receive affected her confidence gravely. Comments like: “Nobody likes a know-it-all”, “Boys are intimidated by smart girls”, and her favourite, “You’ll drive people away, being that opinionated”. What can she say? She’s a product of her own upbringing.

Just like everybody else, she told herself.

It wasn’t like she was docile; she wasn’t even close to that. It was just that her insecurities hadn’t anything to do with appearances. It was all to do with her personality and intelligence. She had been taught to be unsure of herself.

She could only suppose it was due to her own bad experiences that left her with wounds that, in her opinion, were taking too damn long to heal.

Y/N was brought back to the group by Emma poking her cheek. “Always the dreamer, aren’t ya?” Emma knew her the best; how loquacious and sassy she became once comfortable with someone.

All eyes are now on Y/N and her blushing cheeks.

Going for a small amount of wit, she shrugged. “Figured you would be too, given that those three have only been talking about YouTube as if there aren’t two confused college students sitting at the same table.”

Emma, Ethan and Grayson stopped to look at each other, Grayson arching his eyebrow. She couldn’t tell if it was out of offense or surprise. Oh god, Y/N thought, did I go too far with that one?

Right before Y/N could apologize, the quarter started chuckling. Emma’s chuckle turned into a laugh, Ethan shook his head as a grin formed on his face and Grayson remained surprised, chest moving from the soft laughs escaping him.

After a couple of seconds, Grayson was the first to respond. “First, we find out that you actually can speak, and then that you’ve got an attitude?”

Y/N’s blush darkened as she tried to find something else to say. Something about his tone of voice made her want to melt onto the floor. She felt flutters in her stomach, figuring it was the butterflies. Damn crushes to hell, she thought.

But she already opened her mouth. There was no going back now. Fuck it.

Lifting her chin from her palm, she leaned back in her seat, intertwining her fingers together and resting them on the table (which she absolutely did not learn from reading an article online titled ‘Appearing Calm When the Attention is on You’).

Y/N cleared her throat tried to rid herself of her deer-in-headlights look. “I also find joy in leaving the forthcoming speechless, and you haven’t stopped talking all night. Anything else you want to know about me?”  

Taken aback by her own boldness, she wondered if she had drunk way too much, or if this was the result of feeling bottled up for too long. For one night, Y/N wanted to not have to worry about pleasantries. For one night, Y/N wanted to say what she really felt without thinking about what others told her in the past. For one night, she wanted to be considered boisterous and be okay with it.

Both Y/N and Grayson were now looking at each other, waiting for the other to make their move. Sensing the tension, Morgan and Emma announced they went to the washroom and Ethan decided to go buy another drink.

“I always wondered why you were so shy,” Grayson started. “Began to wonder if it was just me.”

God, he had no idea how nervous he made Y/N. He made her want to be more expressive – get her to tuck her stoicism into her back pocket. He was the type of guy that she wanted to feel safe with despite her own insecurities.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Y/N’s sarcasm really began to shine through. “God, Gray. Not everything is about you.” She chuckled at the end of her sentence, indicating to Gray that she was, in fact, joking.

“To answer your question,” Y/N continued. “I suppose I didn’t always feel like I needed to add anything into the conversation.” That may have been a stretch of the truth. She did want to be loud and opinionated. She wanted to be the type of girl that guys were intimidated by, in a good way.

“Maybe now I want to hear what you have to say,” Grayson leant forward, propping his elbows and intertwining his hands together. “You’re in college still, right? How’s that going?”

“I guess you could say it’s the same old considering that the education system on all levels hasn’t changed at all in at least 100 years,” Y/N stopped herself before she could go too far. “Although that’s a whole can of worms that may leave us here for at least a couple of hours if opened.”

“Somehow that doesn’t seem that bad at all. I want to know what your opinions are on that.”

Y/N was taken aback by his sudden interest, just as much as Grayson was by her sudden forwardness. It was definitely the alcohol.

“I just find it funny that throughout my entire academic career, teachers have been taught to shove information down our throats without even bothering to teach us how to learn,” Y/N paused to take another sip of the drink in front of her, focusing on how his eyebrows furrowed at her statement; he was processing it. “Teaching us our learning types and providing tests no different from the ones in all our other classes to identify our own, and then not giving us the resources to use that information to our advantages. I don’t even think I could articulate how much better I could have done in school if they had made the effort into making things more interactive.”

“For example, out of the past 15 years of me being in school including my time in university, I can count on one hand how many teachers that have had actually put in the effort to do things differently.”

Grayson quickly interjected, his interests peaking. “So, you’re saying it’s the teachers’ faults?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe if they were actually given a livable salary, they would have motivation to do so. We’re all doing the best with what we’ve got, and teachers and students share the short end of the stick.”

“I’ll be honest,” Grayson cleared his throat. “I’m not too sure what I can contribute here.”

“That’ll hardly be necessary,” Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got me started and I still have a lot to say.”

Grayson let out a laugh, finding her bluntness refreshing.

“Besides,” she continued her rant. “I think it’s a little messed up how we go to an institution of learning for several hours a day and go home having to teach ourselves the material. The small number of teachers that I mentioned went above and beyond in their teaching. They created games to instill the information into us. They got everybody moving. The class didn’t include your typical ‘sit down and shut up’ kinds of lessons; it was a conversation. If you asked a question and still didn’t understand the clarification, the teacher understood that it would be best to take a different approach. They didn’t make you feel inadequate or stupid just because you didn’t understand it the way they did.”

“They understood that learning was done through making mistakes, and that understanding isn’t measured through the ability to recite bodies of text. It’s, in my opinion, how well you can apply that information to the current reality and your own experiences.” Y/N leant back in her seat once again. “It’s about using the tangible as reinforcement.”

Grayson was left speechless. He was left wanting more – he wanted to pull apart her mind and put it back together again. If she wasn’t beautiful before, then damn, was she stunning now. His face began heating up. He was blushing. The woman sitting across from him was making him feel like a giddy teenager all over again.

“Are you not going to call me out on how red I am right now?”

“No, because blushing isn’t necessarily indicative to attraction,” She crossed her arms – not to be confused with her being standoff-ish. It was her way of self-soothing as she began feeling uncomfortable again; she was worried she was saying too much. “It’s an involuntary reaction and can be caused by multiple different scenarios, depending on which emotions are provoked.”

That’s where the banter started.

“Some would say that you’re a know-it-all.” Grayson’s grin grew. The way his interest towards her grew every second never seized to astonish him.

“Some would say that I’m an ‘insufferable know-it-all’.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just quote Snape from Harry Potter?”

Y/N let out a genuine, loud laugh. “It’s reassuring knowing that you’re not completely un-cultured.”

“I’m guessing since you’ve decided to quote Snape’s reaction to Hermione always having an answer to everything, that you see a bit of yourself in her?”

“Depends if you see reading books as a defining personality trait.” Y/N quipped.

Grayson soon swallowed his pride. This girl has a smart-ass response to everything – and he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. “You want to maybe get out of here and go somewhere quieter?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, grinning as she collected her things and put on her jacket.

She never thought she’d see the day where a) she would allow someone to peel back her layers in such a small period of time and b) she would thank alcohol for making it possible.

[menzosarres]

And I Am Not Resigned

Fandom: Grace and Frankie

Pairing: See Fandom

Length: 5k (for now)

Rating: T (for now)

Summary: "[SPOILERS]" is one heck of a conversation starter. Grace is focused on the "but" she can't figure out how to say. Frankie is focused on semantics. Or maybe they're focused on the same thing. 

AKA a post-s5 fix-it of some sort of another, and possibly just a start. 

A/N: Sometime my queue dies because I’m busy with work. Other times my queue dies because the end of a season wrecks me so completely I start writing fic for a fandom I’ve never even said “Hi” to and don’t come out all day. 

[AO3] 

...but now I think that might have been a huge mistake.

The all-night thought. The should’ve-been-a-honeymoon thought. Pete Repeat on a loop from the minute she came out here to the minute after she said the first half of the words to right now, while Frankie is sinking down in the sand beside her while she’s not saying anything more than I married Nick last night even when there’s so much more to be said.

I married Nick last night. I married a man I love. Without any kind of show. No performance. No bitterness, no rubbing-it-in, no patching over old wounds. Just me, and him, and a few legal necessities and one simple gold band on my finger (which feels very cold out here, now that I’m holding it up between us. It’s overcast. It’s the breeze, you know. The spray.)

I married Nick last night.

But there’s a but. There’s always a but. And sometimes she says it and sometimes she doesn’t, because somewhere down the line there was a smarmy boss with heavy white eyebrows over swampy, wandering eyes who told her he’d started hearing her say “but there’s just one more thing” in his dreams at night but hey, at least it had taken over from nightmares about his ex-mother-in-law. Except she never liked the thought of her “buts” staring in anyone’s dreams. She’s not going to be anyone’s naysaying nightmare. Not even nightmare improvement. Especially not for men like that, who made it clear that he didn’t like her “buts” because “but” is awful close to “no,” and “no” ruins the kinds of dreams he’d rather be having about her.

It’s been a lot of years since she has had to put up with a boss like that. Since men have thought of her like that, says a smaller voice. Because sometimes, despite herself, she’s taken those kinds of things to heart. The less you admit there’s a “but,” the faster you can get right to fixing things without admitting anything ever went wrong.

But she wants to say it this time. She wants to say “but.”

I married Nick last night, but.

But I didn’t tell you.

But I didn’t talk to you.

But I left here angry with you and angry with myself for being angry with you and angry with myself for dismissing you and here I went and did it all over again.

...but now I think that might have been a huge mistake.

We all know the kind of choices I make when I’m angry.

Bad ones, she wants Frankie to say. And she wants Frankie to call her out on it, to bring up the fact that she slept in the woods three hallucinations deep into both kinds of moonshine rather than face up to one more bunk-bedded night of Frankie’s appalling attempt at a girl’s trip. She wants them to laugh about her terrible choices, and talk about whether this one is, that. Terrible. A huge mistake.

But she can’t even get out the “but” that’s been on repeat for hours, let alone any of the ones that might be an apology. They’re stuck somewhere between the fact that her huge mistakes are usually someone else’s nightmares and the fact that Frankie can’t even look at her.

Her hip hurts. She sat on that rock too long. She stood up too fast. Tried to run too fast in the loose sand. It’s going to hurt more, getting down beside her, but she does it anyway. Gets as far as the good knee before she has to stall, brace herself, and it doesn’t not strike her where she is, down on one knee in the sand beside Frankie Bergstein, but even though she stalls, several seconds past the ache in her thigh, Frankie doesn’t so much as glance her way, so down she goes. Knees in someone’s sandy footprints. Ass on her heels. Sweater wrapped tight against the wind.

And they’re sitting, and she isn’t saying “but,” and Frankie isn’t saying “bad one, Grace,” And it’s cold. The sand is cold. The spray is cold. Her hands are so, so cold. And back in Casa de Nick, her side of a bed that he said—very gently, very romantically, whispered in her ear as they crossed through the doorway with his hands around her waist—is “all ours, now” must be just as cold, considering how long she’s been out here. Cold and empty. He heard her get up. She’s not capable of that kind of quiet anymore. He didn’t say anything, though. Did that make it worse?

Frankie’s nodding.

That definitely makes it worse. It’s an “I should’ve known” kind of nod. A nod like she expects nothing but this kind of disappointment after any kind of apology from Grace Hanson. Like she agrees: her one-more-things are a nightmare.

Frankie stops nodding. “Partner’s a mean word.”

That’s it? she wants to say. Wants to laugh. The uncomfortable, tension-breaking laugh. Wants to demand worse name-calling than 'mean.' Wants to offer to fetch a seafood tray. Shower me in shrimp and pelt me with the platter. Tell me to wake the fuck up or get the fuck out.

“Who came up with it anyway,” Frankie’s saying instead, because there are few things which can shut up Grace Hanson, but there’s nothing that can shut up Frankie Bergstein. “Partner. Was it the cowboys? I blame the cowboys. I never did trust their hats. Or their guns.”

Oof.

She rocks sideways even though it hurts more, her hip right in the sand, knees protesting the extra inch of sheer.

“But you know who ruined it?”

Frankie’s actually waiting, she realizes after several seconds of silence. Still not looking at her, but she’s demanding words. Maybe she’ll even get to the ones she’s thinking. It’s got to start somewhere.

“Who?” she asks. Is that her voice? It’s so… wobbly. She sounds scared. She sounds old.

“The millennials. They’re the ones. They’re the ones who decided even stupid cowboy words can mean fifteen different things, even really, really important ones, and you know what?”

“What, Frankie.” Now she just sounds tired. And dismissive to boot.

“That ruined it. Doesn’t mean anything anymore. How’re you supposed to know, hm? Howdy, partner. Partner in crime. Grace Hanson, my most Vybrant business partner. Deal me in, partner. You gonna hit that birdie, partner, or are you just gonna let it hit you in the face?”

“Are we talking about badminton?”

“No, Grace, we’re not.”

“Because it suddenly feels like you’re talking about the time you served me a black eye.”

“That’s only because you were checking your phone in the middle of the court during a very intensive rematch with Kay Dee and DJ Ken.”

“I shouldn’t have had to watch where my partner was serving.”

Frankie holds up a hand in her general direction. “Uh! Nuh-uh. There’s a ban on that now.”

“There’s a what now?”

“You know exactly what.”

“No I don’t, Frankie!” She’s graduated from old to dismissive to shrill in under five minutes and the sun’s still only half up. “I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that.”

Usually, she’d say, “yours,” but it’s not that kind of morning.

“I’ll tell you who.”

“Thank god,” she mutters.

“The millennials.”

She doesn’t feel particularly illuminated. “Not the cowboys?”

Frankie frowns. “Them too.” In silhouette, it’s all in one downturned corner of her lips.

She’s noticed that before. The laugh lines don’t change. Her eyes are always smiling, just a little, too many years of genuine appreciation of life to erase with even three years frowning at Grace. It’s something she’s wished, now and then, she could paint onto her own face as easily as she does her illusion of lingering youth. But what Frankie has is something she never will. No one has figured out how to bottle up genuine optimism for her to buy at Violet Gray or how to charge her up with some good old fashioned battery-operated faith in the good of the world. The closest thing she’ll ever find, she suspects, is sitting beside her in a blue dress that looks like a bathrobe.

“But don’t try to change the subject,” adds the bathrobe-clad joy that still won’t look at her.

“I don’t know what the subject is,” she admits.

“You’re married.”

“Oh.” That subject.

Frankie looks just like she felt, thinking about anything that wasn’t this, the two of them. On this beach. Together. And yeah, there was more to what she was gonna say even without the but. This was supposed to be a “you were right” kind of conversation. An “I kept underestimating you” conversation. A “you don’t need me, I’m a nag and a failure at sticky-note pictionary and I should probably just get out of your way” conversation. But she’s not saying any of that, either.

“I’m all out of congratulations. You know it takes me at least two days after a wedding to recharge my chi.”

“Me too.” She leans forward. Tucks her hands into the crease behind her knees. It should be getting warmer by now, shouldn’t it?

“Then why’d you do it, Grace?”

It’s not her angry Grace. It’s her resigned one.  

“Well, I— He asked. He asked, and I—” She shakes her head. “I love him.” It’s the part of the Pete Repeat answer with the least number of syllables.

“I know that.” Frankie’s plucking at her dress-robe. “Doesn’t mean you marry the guy, I mean. Come on. That word’s exactly the same way!”

This should be one of the times she gets it, shouldn’t it? She feels like this loop Frankie’s in about words matters, so she should be making the superhuman effort it takes to follow it down whatever rabbit hole and along every tangent she’s taking it on, but she’s sleepless and a little bit convinced some part of her subconscious rattled loose last night and decided to haunt her with the ghost of face-lifts yet to come, so she can’t. “What word?” she asks, more harshly than she wants to. “The same as what?”

“Love!” Frankie’s hands go up in the air. “And cowboys!” She frowns. “No, you’re the one who got me hung up on cowboys. I just mean. You can say that word a hundred times to a hundred people and it doesn’t mean you have to move out.”

“Who said anything about moving out?” she splutters.

“Well he’s sure as hell not moving in.”

“He’s not moving into the beach house, Frankie.”

“Exactly. Because you’re moving out.”

She untucks her hands. They aren’t getting warmer there anyway. Her fingers are just going to sleep. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.” Frankie’s hands rise an inch off her lap and thump back down again. “But I’m not the one who went out and got myself a husband.”

“You got yourself a man and a yurt like a month ago.”

“Yeah, and I moved into it with him. Because that’s what people do when they get men. I wasn’t gonna make him sleep on the couch.”

“Now we both sound like we’re talking about dogs.”

Frankie doesn’t even smile.

“Besides, living on the patio does not count as moving out.”

“Yeah, well. Not all of us buy our men from the breeders. Big business of man’s best friend. Bunch of corporate fluff- murderers. Some of us foster strays. With a yurt. Not some... pedigree penthouse and a half-private island.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. She manages a strangled laugh. Feels like she has to. It was her bad joke that started this, after all.

Frankie just keeps frowning. “This is all wrong.”

She huffs through her nose. “Tell me about it.”

“No, you stop doing that.”

Frankie almost, almost turns her head while she says it. It was almost eye-contact. She realizes she’s leaning in, her hand heavy on her knee, like if she were a few inches closer, Frankie would be forced to look at her already, or she’d at least be able to make out what’s happening in her head through her eyes. “Stop doing what?”

“I’m supposed to be angry. How come you were allowed to be mad about the yurt, but I can’t be mad about this?”

“You can be. I mean, you have every right to be.”

Frankie frowns at the ocean again. “Yeah, well. It does’t work if you aren’t giving me any guff. Where’s my pushback, Grace Hanson. You don’t want my congratulations and you let me call your new hubby a puppy killer. A puppy-killer puppy. A dopey, pedigree pomeranian. A lapdog of society, capitalism’s favorite canine, a—”

“—point taken, and metaphor officially taken too far.”

“Speak for yourself.”

They’re both very still for a while.

With each passing second, the waves seem closer, louder. Ready to drown out whatever she manages to say next. It’s her turn to stare out at the water. She’s hit some words she doesn’t think she can say to even the side of Frankie’s face. Talk to the waves; it's not like the face wants to listen.

“You’re right, you know. I think I came here for you to yell at me.”

“And when do I ever do that.”

“Every time the ad for selecting the new special flavor of Mountain Dew comes on in the car.”

“Well that’s just sacrilege! Nobody can improve on Mountain Dew, and especially not a radio-voter democracy. Those people can’t be trusted.”

This time, she just waits it out.

“But that’s just yelling.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees it. Frankie’s curls blowing back over her shoulder. Frankie’s chin turning her way. She’s afraid to make any sudden move, to look back at her, to even blink, though the salty wind is going to ruin that any second now. It's already making her eyes water.

“That’s not yelling at you.”

“You do that too,” she says, throat uncomfortably thick. “Literally any time I’m not in the same room where you’re looking for me, but that’s… That’s not really the point, is it. What I meant was, I came here for you to be mad at me, alright?”

“Well that’s silly.”

“No, no it’s not. Well, maybe it is, a little, but—” She’s looking. She didn’t make the conscious decision to turn back towards Frankie but she did it, and finally, they’re talking to each other instead of the sand and the sea. “—I thought… I didn’t think you’d let me say sorry, for one. I thought… maybe you’d yell at me, maybe you’d hate me for going behind your back again, and maybe that’d be… better. Than how we left things. That you’d agree. We did it. We made it out. Hell and back and we’re stronger and more ‘fuck it’ than ever. So strong we don’t need…”  

Her hand settles into the sand by her side, scooping up aimless grains and bits of broken shells and dried up kelp and letting them sift through her fingers.

“Or maybe you’d help me figure out…”

It doesn’t make any sound, falling. Only when she’s digging in, getting little bits of their grassless backyard stuck beneath what's left of her pre-vacation manicure.

Frankie’s hand comes down on the back of hers, pressing down hard, stilling her restless movement. There’s some real weight in it, harsh and constrictive, but it’s also the warmest thing she’s felt all day.

“Figure out what, Grace. Spit it out. Remember, I’m all chi-ed in for the day, so I’m gonna be a godawful guiding star. An angry one at that.”

“Guiding star? What happened to good old-fashioned guru?”

“Leo may have suggested I was being appropriative, calling myself that when I’m not in touch with my own inner light.”

“Hmph. I have never met anyone more in touch with her own inner light. In fact, sometimes I think that’s all you’re in touch with.”

“And sometimes it gets really obvious when you’re stalling.” Frankie pats the back of her hand twice, the way someone might while saying “there, there” to a crying stranger at a funeral.

“Right,” she hears herself whisper. “Um. Right. You, yelling at me or. Or helping me figure out… what I want.”

“Seems like you figured that one out all by yourself.”

Frankie pulls her hand away. She can feel her eyes on the ring. It’s warmer than before Frankie touched it, but the air and the sand feel even colder, now.

“No, no I didn’t. I just said ‘yes.’” The wave of relief at saying that much swamps her, twice as loud and cold as the sea. It’s like being shocked awake, like she can hear her own voice again. “It felt like I’d spent all day saying ‘no.’ To you. To your whiteboard. To the kids. To the fucking sea lions.”

“The sea lions were not fucking, Grace. Do you really think I’d have stayed in the tent and missed another glorious act of nature like that?”

“For your son’s wedding? Yes.”

Frankie’s eyes go wide, and for a second, she wonders if she’s having some kind of epiphany, something that will get her out of the rest of this conversation and into an answer that will make her gut stop feeling heavier than after her first and only Del Taco burrito.

“They were fucking! The sea lions were fucking and you didn’t tell me! Again!”

That’s the last straw. She starts laughing, pained, raw laughter that makes her feel like she’s going to start choking on it. She finally got it, Frankie’s finally yelling at her, and it’s over the fucking sea lions. “No, Frankie, for christ’s sake. This isn’t about the seal lions.”

“Then why are you talking about the sea lions!”

Her lungs ache. She tastes salt deep in the back of her throat. She’s still wheezing out the last of this awful laughter.

“Hey! Cut that out. That’s no laughing matter. That’s a real serious crime you committed, you repeat sea lion offender. I could have you fined for just the false alarm.”

Oh, oh thank god, Frankie’s almost smiling at her.

“If I ever see them doing… that… again, I will call you immediately and ask that you kindly bring me the bleach for my eyeballs. Deal?”

“Shake on it?”

Rolling her eyes, she holds out her hand. They shake.

“Deal, then,” Frankie agrees. “But you aren’t allowed to use it till you’re back at the sink. Bleach is very disruptive to—”

“—this conversation, it seems.”

At her tone, Frankie shifts. For the first time, it really occurs to her that, as uncomfortable as she is right now, Frankie isn’t faring much better. For... not the first time... she’s equal parts grateful and concerned that both of them react to discomfort like this, that they can needle each other until it’s like an itch instead of a pain, and they can laugh. Yeah, sometimes that makes it hard to talk about the real stuff, but she never used to laugh like this. Ever. At any pre-Frankie point in her whole eighty years of life.   

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That I keep talking around this. And getting upset when you let me.”

“Hey. Don’t apologize for that. You were finally almost getting us to mutually assured anger.”

“I don’t want mutually assured anger.”

“Well I do! This hurts, Grace!”

Her hand is yanked up from the sand and waved in front of her own face before she realizes what’s happening.

“This is huge!”

“I know.”

“Massive!”

“Well, it’s actually pretty small compared to…”

...this nightmare scenario I was daydreaming where everything was bigger and badder but otherwise kinda looked an awful lot like a what happened when I came back from the vacation I actually did go on where I guess I decided, stupidly, we were better off without each other.

It’s a good thing she ran out of breath before she even started trying to explain that one.

“I’m not talking about the ring and you know it, Grace.” Frankie lets go. Her hand just kind of hangs there for a minute. “We’re supposed to be partners. Partners may mean a hundred and fifty different things but none of them mean you go behind my back when you get married.”

“I know.” She shakes her head and buries her hands behind her knees again. “And that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. That that’s not what I wanted. What I want. That I said yes because all day I’d been telling you ‘no’ and you’d been doing it anyway and you were right! Every time! So I walked out and sat around thinking… Gee. Frankie’s doing so well. I left and Frankie’s doing better than ever. Hell, we both are. So… why not. Why not make this the new… us. A less… us us.”

“Yeah, why not.” Frankie starts to get her feet under her. She can hear the start of the storm-off in her voice alone. “If I’m not dying, why would you even want me around. This is some apology, Grace.”

“Frankie, no.” She reaches out, catches her hand before she get further than a crouch. “The point is, I was wrong. I’m not doing better. I’m the one who’s not doing better. I’m the one you don’t want around.” Her voice catches. “But I’m selfish. I don’t want to not be around.” Frankie’s still not looking at her, still looks a second from pulling away for good. So she digs for Frankie’s words instead, says them as softly and genuinely as she can. “I don’t want to be my own beaches.”

She knows it works when Frankie stiffens. Lets out a huff. “Sure.” She shakes off her hand, but sits back down. “You want to be Nick’s beaches.”

“I still don’t know what that means, but I definitely don’t want that either.”

That earns her an eye roll. “You need to stop saying things you don’t mean, cowboy.” Frankie stretches her legs out in front of her, wiggles her toes to flex a cramp out of her calf.

“I know. That’s how I wound up married. Twice.”

“Or how I spend decades thinking we’re both fabulous forties gals when you were born 1939. That’s the proof right there. This was always gonna go south. If I'd known, I'd've never agreed to live with you in the first place. Nothing good ever came out of the thirties.” She leans back on her elbows and frowns. “Unless you count Sister Rosetta Tharpe inventing rock ‘n’ roll, and people never do count Sister Rosetta Tharpe.”

“Frankie, I’m not following.”

“She was a queer black woman and a musical visionary and history owes her!”

“Alright, I’m sure you’re gonna single-handedly make sure it pays up, but I don’t know where you’re going with this and I’d really like to get there.” The ache in her hip is telling her to lean to the other side, but her knees are telling her if she does that, they’ll riot. “I’ve had a cold morning and a long night.”

“Of marital bliss.”

“Of mediocre sex,” she grouses instead, then claps a hand over her mouth.

Frankie stares at her. Oh, she does not want Frankie staring at her right now. An underwhelming honeymoon is something they could joke about if it were about, you know, Robert. Or Sol. If it were fifty years ago. Not the morning after. Not in the middle of this.

“You married Mr. Tall Dark and Free Enterprise for mediocre sex? ”

She can feel how red her cheeks are from here. “Well, I— People don’t get married just for— And, you know, we’ve talked about this, how, at our age… Look, Frankie, that’s not the point.”

“Oh yes it is.” She’s leaning forward, finger up and shaking an inch from Grace’s nose. “I know what’s happening here.”

“Buyer’s remorse?” she mutters.

“Self-flagellation!” Her hand falls again. The intensity in her stare doesn’t change, but her tone does. “You, married to some mediocre sex? I can’t believe I’m seeing it. I can’t believe, after, after, yeah! After all the times we’ve talked about this! Don’t ‘our age’ me. Don’t you do that. Not now, not then, not ever, and especially not after you went out and married…” Frankie’s head is shaking again, and her voice is getting softer and softer, and it’s doing something to her, something that’s dragging up the weight in the pit of her stomach and making it cling and dig in nails right behind her ribs. “But I guess that means... you really mean it.”

What do I really mean, she wants to say. Please, please tell me, because I don’t think I know. But she doesn’t. The claws are in her throat, too.

“You actually came here because you didn’t know how to fix this,” Frankie says like it’s the least believable thing in the world.

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along!” she gasps out. “What did you think I was doing?”

“Humoring me,” Frankie says, and her voice is still soft, but this time there’s hurt in it, and the claws all throughout her chest are suddenly pinching so hard they bring tears to the corners of her eyes. “I thought this was just another one of those ‘I’ve made a decision you aren’t going to like, Frankie, so I’m going to pretend to be torn up about it so you won’t make me feel guilty’ conversations you love. ”

“I do love those,” she admits. Her voice is so choked that Frankie’s less-than-flattering impression sounded more like herself than she does.

“I know,” Frankie says. “Just like I know you know being eighty doesn’t mean settling for mediocre sex.”

She sighs. “Can we not focus on that right now. Yes, you’re right, and yes, I’m the idiot who blurted that out, and yes, I know how weird this is gonna sound, but in this case, I really don’t care that much about the sex. I didn’t come here to talk about that. And I didn’t come here to humor you, either. I came here to apologize, to tell you I fucked up, then apologize again. Then, maybe, figure out what happens next.”

“Well, you call it off, obviously.”

“I got married, Frankie. Not engaged. We’re past the stage where I leave him at the altar.”

“So what? You didn’t want to get married, you call it off!”

“Who says I didn’t want to?”

“Oh, come on! Ms. Wound Up Married. Or do I have to say ‘Mrs.’ now? Puh-lease. You never wanted to get married again. You want to know how to fix this? You rewind—” Frankie makes the arm gesture, the one like she’s yanking on a tug-of-war rope and like no kind of rewinding she’s ever heard of. “—say ‘Just kidding, Madam Justice of the Peace! My hand slipped!’ Happens all the when you’re old. Blame a hand tremor.”

“I am not telling Nick I meant to put that ring on his thumb and slipped because I had a hand tremor.”

“Ooh, that’s good. Use that.”

“No, Frankie.”

“C’mon, why not?”

“Because I love him, Frankie! Have you not been listening to me?”

“Course I have,” she says in a huff. “You’re not listening to me. Love, marriage— Not the same deal. The first one’s about a lot of things. Remember the cowboys? No? Whatever. Anyway, the point is the other one’s about tying your whole lives together, and you don’t want to do that with Nick or you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Says who?” Oof, she sounds pouty. Defensive. She hates when she sounds like this.

“Says you! When you said you’re not moving out! And he’s not moving in!”

“Maybe I’m just… Maybe we’ll just take a lot of vacations, did you ever think about that?”

“You won’t.”

“Why not?” She doesn’t like this either, this new determination in Frankie’s voice. This exact same rightness she gets when…

When she’s right. And I’m wrong.

“Because! Because you said you need me! We’re partners.” Frankie’s hand points back and forth between them. She’s wearing two bracelets on the same wrist that clink together each time she does it and that’s almost too much for her, that’s almost all she can hear. “I am listening to you. I always listen to you. Even when you’re saying stupid things about synergy that make my bullshit detector go so far off the charts it breaks I listen to you—and I just listened to you say you married Nick because you thought we’d had our run and were ready to move on with our own lives and you know what? No way. You coming here and asking me to tell you what you want? There’s your proof, Grace. We’re not moving anywhere, let alone on.” She says it like it’s mythical, fingers waggling, hands waving in the air. “Fuck being married. Love? Whatever. You love me and you wouldn’t marry me in a million years.”

For the first time in several seconds, Frankie’s mouth closes. Her eyebrows pull together. “You wouldn’t, right?”

A breath she’s been sucking in through each line of Frankie’s bulldozer rebuttal slams back out of her throat like she’s been punched. Before she can even get her lungs working again, Frankie is full steam ahead.

“Right. Because the point is, if you wanted your life tied up with his, you’d still be there. Wherever that is.” The frown deepens. “Do I know where that is? Where do you go for sleepovers, anyway. Oh god, is it his office? Tell me it’s his office. Is his whole bedroom just full of those little waiting room couches? Is that why you can’t have good sex…”

The knowing tone, the leading question, that “ah-ha!” look in Frankie’s eyes, the one she gets when she’s finally solved an impossible mystery in the least likely way, all comes together to finally get her lungs going again. It’s a spluttered laugh, three hard bursts of air, but it feels… okay.

“No? Hm. Well, that’s not the end of that conversation, but unless you’re really planning to fly back off to the Mongolias with him this morning—and lemme tell you, my bullshit detector is still broken from last time but it would be beeping up a storm over that if it could—I think my point has been made.”

“It’s the Maldives, Frankie.”

“Beep, beep, beep, beep—”

“Alright!” She holds up a hand. “Alright. Point taken.”

But her hand is up in front of her eyes again, and there it is. She curls her fingers into her palm. She can’t see it over her knuckles, then, but she can still feel it. “Christ, he doesn’t deserve this. I’ve been blowing hot and cold since we met. I never used to be this indecisive.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you don’t just say yes to things and actually have to figure out what you want.”

What she wants. Eighty years old and just getting started. What do I want.

“I… I still don’t know.”

“Yeah, well—” Frankie’s up again with a huff, sand raining down from the creases of the robe-dress and blowing in her face. “—I do. And it starts right there.” She points towards the house, then holds out her hand. “Home. With breakfast.”

She takes the help up. Her hip screams, there’s sand stuck to her mouth, but what else is new. “Breakfast… sounds great,” she admits.

“Good, because you’re making it.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” Frankie cajoles, squeezing her hand. She tugs her closer, sneaks an arm around her waist beneath the sweater and starts to steer them up towards the path. It’s warm, it’s right. It’s simple. It’s something she wants. “Because I am going to be very busy at the whiteboard, brainstorming up better excuses than a hand tremor for why you’re getting that thing off your finger.”

She groans. “Oh no, not the whiteboard.” She’s smiling, though.

A few steps later, she leans over, presses a kiss to Frankie’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Frankie's stride falters. Against her hip, she feels a faint tremble run through Frankie's fingers.

She shakes her head and keeps them moving. "Thank me with waffles."

[just-whelmed]

A Long, Rambly, Incoherent Rant Regarding TWD

!WARNING!: a lot of complaints, a lot of tangents, specific shipping of specific pairings, wishful thinking and weird ideas, probably unpopular opinions -- all up ahead.

[i just needed to get my thoughts out there; i’m not looking to fight anyone over things i think/believe/like or don’t like about the show. i’m aware my opinions are not fact, nor are they the end all, be all for the walking dead. i’m just a fan who has no one to talk to about all this junk. nothing more. ignore if you want.]

I love The Walking Dead. It’s been a huge part of my life, my family’s life, for going on 5 years now. I’ve sat down every Sunday (when the show is airing) since the season 4 premiere to watch live, I’ve argued with family members after episodes, I’ve analyzed and defended characters, spent time making stupid edits and writing fluffy fanfics and just generally thinking about this show for an admittedly unhealthy amount of time.

I’ve never liked zombie entertainment. I didn’t even want to watch this show initially, but I’d been convinced by my sister one day and so we sat down in my room and watched season 1, which we rented from a video store before it went out of business. Right away, during 1x01, I realized that this wasn’t a zombie show—it was a show about survivors. It was a show about one man waking up to a dead world and wanting nothing more than to find his family. It was about seeing all these characters with all their complexities, whether you liked them or not, trying to keep themselves afloat while anyone could die at any moment. But that was never the point. The point was to follow these characters we meet right alongside Rick and root for them to conquer the threat of the world, no matter the cost. Because amongst all the loss and sadness, there was survival and hope. That’s how I convinced my grandparents to watch, too. 

And so it makes me sad, mad, frustrated, that I can barely recognize the show anymore. That I can rarely even enjoy it. Where’s the fun in watching characters you’ve cared about for years get killed off without any payoff (especially when it’s falsely promised that it’s for some type of “reason”)? Where’s the fun the show either being so predictable that it becomes stupid, or so outlandish that you have to laugh at the ridiculousness of it?

I know the common arguments, just as I know my opinions are purely my own. This is a show that’s created by a team who can do whatever they want with it. They don’t have to take the fan’s wants and desires into account (they rarely do, anyhow). They don’t have to cater to anyone. However, why should they then expect the fans to keep watching when they (Gimple) consistently flush everything we love about what made TWD what it is right now down the drain? Actions have consequences, and while yes, this is a show and what happens shouldn’t revolve around whether or not people are going to get mad, I do think TWD deserves a little more care and common sense.

And I’m in no way saying that this show should not evolve every season, that it should only be about 5 people and no one else, that threats can’t be bigger and greater or that main characters can’t eventually die. I know all these things, I accept all these things, I even like some of these things. But there’s a time, a place, and a way to do all of this, and the way it’s been done recently… it’s just frustrating.

Of course, no matter what happens on the show, someone will always complain. There’s too much plot, not enough character moments; too many character moments, not enough action; too much action, not enough plot. Etc, etc. Nothing can please everyone 100% of the time and that’s fine, but where’s the balance? Where’s the forethought? It seems like Gimple plans a season without thinking about the future of the show, and now said future is far too bleak—in terms of TWD itself and the state of how long AMC can keep this train running before it completely wrecks.

And everyone has an idea on when this started happening. For reference, my favorite seasons OVERALL are 1, 2, and 6. S3 had a lot of great episodes, but too much focus on Woodbury too suddenly. S4 had some stand out episodes, but was slow a lot of the time and had weird plot moments intertwined. S5 might be my least favorite, really, though it contains a couple of my favorite episodes in the series. The first half with all that hospital shit? No thanks, but the second half was pretty good. A lot of people disliked s6 and cite this as the season that things started to fall apart, but aside from the completely random obsession Rick had over Jessie and the fakeout dumpster with Glenn (also, Denise’s too-soon death), I think the season was strong. It had a lot of little character moments where most everyone got to shine and essentially helped change the course of the show in new and interesting ways.

Unfortunately, s7 took those changes and ran in the wrong direction. The pacing was off, half the focus was about Negan when we had three communities (two of which were extremely new) to learn about, and practically all the deaths were for shock value. (Also, the whole “blame Daryl” bullshit really blew up here in full force, stopping Negan from taking accountability for anything because he’s so ~charming~.) Now, I have a lot of individual episodes in this season that I actually really like, for various reasons (7x02, 7x03, 7x05, 7x08, 7x13, 7x14, 7x15, 7x16; obviously, 7B was better than 7A in my eyes). And there were a lot of things in the other episodes I enjoyed, too, but overall? S7 was kind of a big mess.

Why did Glenn need to die, honestly? What was the point of the dumpster bullshit if he was going to get his comic death anyways, only this time as an afterthought and therefore the exact opposite of the huge show-changing event they’d claimed it would be? Abraham dying, alongside maybe a surprise someone else, would’ve done the same damn thing that s7 showed us, except Maggie wouldn’t have lost yet another person she cares the most about, Daryl wouldn’t be persecuted for something Negan did on solely his own will, and we’d still have some fucking hope for a little bit. TWD immediately started feeling less like TWD when Glenn was killed off. 

Why is Negan’s characterization so flip-floppy? He was, to me, a threat in 6x16 and 7x01, as well as 7x03, and then for the rest of the season (as well as 8a) he’s just a joke-cracking, lame ass leaning cartoon who likes to pretend he’s not coercing his “wives” into being with him and who seems so obsessed with Rick’s dick that I’m not sure how he thinks about anything else. His relationship with Carl also falls flat. Yeah, I can see maybe if he had some kind of fatherly feelings towards him, but he just seems like a sociopath. He makes fun of Carl and then apologizes when he starts to cry, only doing so to gain control. He carts Carl around to show him the workers he treats as slaves, the “wives” that are only with him because they want to avoid a worse fate, and tries to emasculate his father by propping himself up as some kind of God to his “Saviors,” as if Carl will think that’s cool. He used Carl to break Rick in 7x01 and then was ready to bash his head in during 7x16, but it’s okay because he feels bad, right? Negan is a villain who has no empathy, who makes excuses for his actions the same way his fans do; there’s nothing to make the audience connect with him in a way that even the Governor, as whiny and dumb as he was, had. His s8 tragic backstory? Cheated on his dying wife. Okay. But it’s alright because he’s funny sometimes, yeah? In my opinion, Negan is a weak villain who’s plot armor is so obvious that so much of the show has become stupid. He controls so many people and yet you’re telling me that only Dwight hates him? That no one can just freaking shoot the guy who strolls around without a care? You’re telling me that Rosita is suddenly a shit shot and hits the small surface of baseball bat instead of Negan’s forehead? You’re telling me Sasha couldn’t take the knife from the rapist in the cell and stab Negan? She was going to die anyways, so why not just do it? You’re telling me they had Daryl on the B-Team in 8x01 because… why? He had a bike to lead walkers to Sanctuary? No, it’s because he would’ve popped Negan between the eyes if he’d been in that crowd, instead of shooting out windows too many stories up to even matter. Like… not to shit on Rick’s plan, because it’s pretty clever when you take the whole thing into account, but really? They could’ve killed Negan in 8x01 and the show would have been more interesting with Simon as the new main villain.

Also, what’s the deal with introducing characters (Heath, Sherry) that suddenly just disappear? I get actors have other things going on, but then there’s literally no mention of them again. Tara finds a sheet of paper, which we have no clue what would even have to do with anything, and hopes Heath is okay. Dwight gets Sanctuary’s doctor killed so he can lie about Sherry being dead. That’s it. And then what’s the deal WITH BRINGING BACK A CHARACTER FROM SEASON 1, SOMEONE THAT COULD HAVE HAD POTENTIAL TO SHOW MORE TENSION WITHIN NEGAN’S RANK, SOMEONE WHO COULD’VE HELPED DWIGHT TURN ON THE SAVIORS AFTER RECONNECTING WITH RICK, SOMEONE WHO COULD’VE AT LEAST FILLED THE EMPTY SPACE MORGAN WILL BE LEAVING ONCE HE HOPS SHOWS, ONLY TO KILL HIM AT THE START OF THE VERY NEXT EPISODE??? The most random shit you have ever seen, right up there with scavenger freaks that talk like robots even though the apocalypse has only been around for like 2-3 years.

It really pains me to complain about a show I love so much, but maybe it’s because I have such strong feelings for it that I have to air my grievances.

But wait, there’s more!

So, sure, season 7 had a nice finale, with Sasha at least going out on her own terms and Glenn finally really being acknowledged by newly appointed leader Maggie, plus the cool visual of seeing Rick, Ezekiel, and Maggie give rousing speeches to their followers, but we then get s8.

It had a strong start. Rick’s plan is confusing and, for some reason, not fully explained when it’s the ONE thing that should be talked about. But, essentially: Rick teams up with other communities to trap Negan inside until they can no longer survive, with the threat of walkers looming, rather than outright killing anyone because he wants them to surrender. Then, with Dwight’s information, they go to every outpost to clear them of outside Saviors and to arm themselves with more weapons. His back up plan, in case something goes wrong, is to call upon the group that already betrayed them. Then, they just need to wait it out.

Except a lot of things go wrong, as they usually do, and this makes up a lot of the plot. Great! I enjoy the fact that many of our favorite characters are disagreeing. Daryl, Tara, and Morgan want revenge at all costs; Rick and Maggie are struggling with morality; Ezekiel loses nearly all of the Kingdom and needs Carol to get him steady; Jesus, the new moral compass, has taken prisoners because he’s thinking not just about the present, but also the future and what the cost of winning will do to everyone; Rosita’s learned her lesson, Michonne is on neutral ground, Carl once again won’t stay in the house, Eugene’s become an asshole as well as a coward, and Aaron is dealing with the loss of Eric (which was unnecessary, but whatever).

But within these neat little things are several problems. For one thing, Tara in s7 seemed to care about the innocent workers, even after she learned about Denise, Glenn, and Abraham. Now, she wants them all dead and is kind of manipulating the fragile state of mind that Morgan and Daryl are in. Like don’t get me wrong, crashing a truck into Sanctuary was Daryl’s big idea (and it was NOT a bad one, entirely, just morally incorrect, which he even knew and seemed to struggle with at times), but after Michonne tried to talk some sense into him and we saw that he’s once again suicidal, Tara is right there to make sure he goes through with it, just like she said Morgan was right after he had a breakdown and nearly killed Jesus. As for Eric, I get that we need casualties in war, and considering that they never developed the background characters (Tobin, Francine, etc) like they should have, Eric is the only one people would have cared enough about. It’s all about impact. (Note: If it wasn’t clear, I do not ship Aaron and Jesus on the show. I don’t read the comics, I don’t like the comics, and I don’t care if they’re a thing in them. On the show, they’ve not spoken ONE WORD to each other on screen. They’ve never interacted, which is a shitty setup if the plan is to then try and convince us later that a relationship can form there, especially if they killed Eric just for that. Why does Aaron need to be with Jesus when he was already in a perfectly loving relationship? Tom Payne said it best: it would be lazy plotting. Aaron is grieving. Give him the random baby, since Ross mentioned that he’d clung to that bit of life in the wake of losing Eric, and leave him alone.)

Now. Daryl. Obviously, he’s my favorite character, so no matter what I say it’s going to seem like I’m defending him just because. But what you don’t know about me is that I actually like to see both sides to a situation. I don’t think one character is always right or wrong, I’ll admit to anyone if something happens that I don’t agree with, and then I try to see the other side if I can. So… Daryl’s been a popular character since his first appearance. Like him or not, he’s a mainstay and a huge part of the show. Daryl has always been hot-headed, violent, and emotional. He’s also always been caring, loyal, and an outsider. In 6x16, he goes out to find and kill Dwight, despite the fact that it would probably get him killed in return. Why is he doing this? Dwight, who he’d helped in the woods, betrayed him and stole his stuff. Then, he killed Denise for no reason and showed zero remorse. Rick, Michonne, and Rosita followed him out because they cared about him and thought what he was doing was stupid. People act like Daryl is the only character who does stupid shit. Yeah, he’s not, but anyway. Instead of realizing Glenn, Michonne, and Rosita have their own minds and make their own decisions, people want to blame Daryl for them getting captured instead of blaming Dwight and the Saviors for acting on Negan’s orders. In 7x01, when everyone is in the lineup, after Abraham is murdered, Negan taunts Rosita. He’s looking for an excuse to kill someone else. He’s purposefully going around, trying to see who he can rile up. When he starts shouting at Rosita, Daryl snaps and punches him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. BUT look what happens after. The punch, which Daryl no doubt thought would get himself killed, backfires and makes Negan like him because he’s not a “bitch” like Rick. Immediately, Negan turns to Glenn, who’d already spoken out of line, and beats him to death. Aside from the fact that the writers wanted Glenn to die, if we’re looking at it in the scope of canon, do you really think it was random? Do you really think Abraham was random? Abraham, who’d straightened up as a challenge to Negan when he first went down the line? He was a threat and Eeenie Meenie Minie Mo was a farce. He picked Abraham for a reason, just as he picked Glenn—because he saw how Glenn reacted to Negan suggesting he would kill Maggie, and then with Daryl’s outburst on Rosita’s behalf he realized how much pain it would cause everyone if he killed someone else (someone who already showed strong ties to another in the ine) instead of the one who punched him. This is behavior he carries out constantly: choosing someone at random to hurt when someone else acts out because it’s cruel, because the person who defies him is doing so thinking they’re going to die, which means they’re ready to die, and killing someone else leaves that person living with pain and guilt. He tries to make Rick cut Carl’s arm off to get him to break. He was going to kill Dwight for when he, Sherry, and Tina escaped, leaving Sherry alive to ive with it. He burned Mark’s face for seeing Amber. He killed Spencer when he sucked up to him about hating Rick. He told Arat to kill someone random after Rosita shot at him. On and on. This is a pattern. Would people be less pissed if it had been Glenn who punched Negan and if someone else died in his place? Is it only Daryl (who has always been portrayed as impulsive and angry in hard situations) that elicits this reaction? It continues into season 8. Daryl goes against Rick’s plan, just like pretty much everyone else has been going against his plan, and he’s actually got sound reasoning. He wants to blow a hole into Sanctuary to let Walkers inside, furthering the threat and shortening the timeline of their surrender AFTER they’ve lost many of their Kingdom fighters. Rick cites the innocent workers and Daryl tries to make himself feel better about the plan by saying the workers could possibly escape (showing he cares, but not enough in his mindset to back down). Rick pretty much tells Daryl he cannot do it, which is a bad idea, and Daryl decides to disobey. But honestly, Rick’s plan is to recruit the trash people that betrayed them and have shown not to care about anything other than themselves, so how is Daryl’s plan, as ruthless as it is, any worse? Then, when he carries it out, with the help of Tara and Morgan, it succeeds in what he wanted it to. BUT THEN PEOPLE WANT TO BLAME THE WALKERS ROAMING OFF ON DARYL, WHEN HIS PLAN DID THE EXACT OPPOSITE. AND EVEN AFTER IT WAS STATED TWICE IN ONE EPISODE THAT EUGENE WAS AT FAULT, I STILL SAW PEOPLE BLAMING DARYL. It makes no sense. But neither does the show half the time, so whatever.

Sorry. I needed to get all that Daryl stuff off my chest.

Let me talk about Jesus for a minute.

Jesus had one of the best introductions on the show in 6x10 (which is my all-time favorite episode ever). Tom Payne is strong in the role, which, from what I understand, is quite different than the one from the comics… and that’s okay. And no matter what people say, I actually think Jesus has been characterized consistently since he’s been introduced, we’ve just seen it expanded on in unexpected ways. The issue comes with the fact that we haven’t seen enough. Gimple has underutilized him constantly, for no reason. After a good start at the end of s6, he was a background piece for a lot of s7, which is a shame since he shined whenever he was on screen. We established that Jesus is pretty much the only real fighter at Hilltop, the only scout, the only person who’s out more than he is in. But when we see him in s7, he’s just hanging around Hilltop like no big deal. If the point was for him to be there for Maggie and Sasha, then maybe more than a couple of little scenes was necessary to show that. And in 7x16? They took away his big Negan moment without giving a single fuck. That moment would’ve solidified him immediately as a member of Team Family instead of being just on the edge of it, but nope, give it to the cgi tiger (i love her, but let’s be real). And in 8a? We’ve seen his morality, his philosophy, and some of his many capabilities as a fighter, but there’s so much more to explore and I have little hope that they will in 8b, especially in the right ways. I so hope I’m wrong because I love his character and there are countless possibilities for him (one of which is a relationship with Daryl, but maybe I shouldn’t get into that. Yet).

I’ve liked a lot of little moments in 8a. I like the action, the conflict, the spotlight on multiple characters in an episode, the dynamics. But Negan’s plot armor is still around, the trash people are still around for no reason, shocking deaths are still around, and it’s exhausting. For as good as the pacing has generally been, the little details of the overall plot are convoluted.

The show that’s been about survival and hope no longer has either.

As bad as Glenn’s death was, even with the way he’d been slowly phased out before that point, Carl’s impending death is somehow worse. Carl, who was Rick’s reason for living since the start; Carl, who we’ve watched go through so much, who’s grown up so fast, who was just a kid who kept losing himself and is now a man who is capable of so much compassion; Carl, who is the future of the show, literally and figuratively. It’s all gone. For nothing.

For all the talk about “anyone can die at any moment,” no one ever really thought that Carl would be an option, and it’s precisely this reason they did it. I don’t care what excuses Gimple and Kirkman give. I really don’t. There will be no payoff for this, just acceptance from those who haven’t yet already quit. There are people who might think this is overdramatic or who don’t care or who are happy because oh how shocking or because maybe they didn’t like Carl, but this is legitimately a huge blow to the show. Not even simply because TWD is losing Carl himself, but because it’s losing everything he represents to the show and to the other characters. This is a big impact and it’s entirely negative. The trailer for 8b has Carl mentioning Lori telling him he would beat this world, which is sad and poignant, but why does it have to be? Why couldn’t she be proven right? Why does Gimple have to ruin the very foundation of the show with dumb stunts like this?

Deaths are no longer shocking or a good idea. Killing off main characters when you have so few remaining is no longer a good idea. Focusing on the horrors of their world with so few moments of happiness and love to counteract it is no longer a good idea. (How many couples on the show are there at this point?) Watching the characters we actually care about get kicked down over and over again, without getting to see them stand all the way back up, is no longer a good idea.

We have 8 episodes of the season left. A lot of things can happen, good or bad, we can only speculate right now, but based on the course season 8 has taken so far? I’m not too hopeful. We’re going to lose Carl, we’ll lose Morgan in some way since he’s crossing over to the other show, and I would be majorly surprised if Negan dies. It’s hard to be excited for whatever else might happen when most of the possibilities are disappointing. Even with Angela Kang ready to run s9, right now I feel kind of apathetic. Will she have as much control as Gimple had? Can she mend whatever else s8 breaks and create a new, interesting story with our remaining characters for s9? Or will it just be more of the same—maybe even worse—because AMC can’t get it together?

I complained about Gimple sticking far too closely to the comics during 7, which forced the show in awkward directions that it hadn’t been on track for (Spencer becoming a random douchebag for the guts death, for example), but instead of finding a middle ground between adapting and tweaking storylines from the comic for the screen and creating original ideas in s8, Gimple’s now strayed so far from not only the “source material,” but also from what the show has been and what it should.

How can it get back to its roots while becoming fresh in a way that’s actually logical and interesting? Maybe one day we’ll see. Cross your fingers.

You guys probably don’t care about my undeniably optimistic desires for the future of the show, but maybe I can list them anyway, since I’ve rambled enough as it is. 

One: Get rid of Negan. As much as I love JDM and think he’s a fantastic actor, Negan’s run his course. I vote for Rick not sparing Negan, but instead sparing the workers and those like Siddiq who he would have otherwise ignored, if not for his son’s interference. If Carl wants Rick to be merciful, it should be a side effect of Negan’s death, maybe make him feel guilt about how he went about the whole thing, but don’t keep him alive. Heck, Gimple recycles plotlines so much, why not have Rick take the workers into Alexandria like he had with the Woodbury citizens? It’d make more sense than the mustache-twirly villain living while Rick’s own child dies. At least the Governor had some humanity.

Two: Slow down on the character deaths. Seriously. How many nameless Alexandrians are left? How many nonfighters at the Kingdom? Oceanside has already been touched by Negan and Rick, and while the Hilltop is currently intact, I doubt they won’t suffer some damage by the end of this season. No more main or side characters should die this season; no more mains in s9, either. There’s barely anyone left. The characters we’ve already established are what make this show worth anything.

Three: Time jump for season 9? I think the show needs it, at least a couple of years. We’ve got a new showrunner, now we need a fresh slate. If a few years pass between 8 and 9, more options for what to do with the plot will open up. (Will they do the Whisperers? Will it be some big remix, like turning Lydia into a boy for Enid, having Lydia develop a mother/daughter relationship with Carol, having no kid at all? Will Jadis live to become Alpha by finally shaving off that horrible haircut? Maybe we’ll get an original villain? Who knows.) But people will be healed up, rebuilding can be under way, and we can explore storylines for characters that could have started during the jump, making things feel natural.

How about some little things I’d love to see, but that we probably won’t? Buckle up for some major wishful thinking and maybe exit the vehicle if you aren’t on the same page as me for certain things... like desus, carzekiel, etc.

Maybe we can recycle Rick not knowing if he should lead or not, still struggling with the loss of his son and trying to live on for him and Judith. Maybe Michonne is more driven after the initial mourning of another son and takes a more active role in getting Alexandria back on its feet, since she didn’t want to leave it for the Saviors in 8x08. She and Rick are stronger together and can focus on raising Judith to know her roots, like Lori’s sacrifice and how much Carl loved her, keeping his spirit alive. Maybe they recreate the council from the prison and any new characters (Siddiq, perhaps the introduction of Magna and her crew) can be part of it, alongside the oldies like Rosita, Aaron, and Gabriel (if he survives).

Maybe Daryl has decided to stick around at Hilltop. Not only did he never fit in at Alexandria, but perhaps he feels an obligation to look after Maggie and the baby. Maybe Enid’s come into her own (with the help of Maggie and Jesus?) and can have a critical role within the group, maybe as kind of a runner like Glenn had been at the start?

Maybe Jesus is more secure in his position in the community(ies), more secure in himself, and gets a personal story… like, say, developing a relationship with Daryl. And maybe this, too, can be a new start/story for Daryl; a departure from all the self-sacrificing and depression he’s been getting these last few years. Daryl’s sexuality has been ambiguous since the beginning, basically, as we usually know or see who a character is interested in fairly quickly (Rick with Lori and then Jessie and then Michonne, Glenn and Maggie, Tara and Alisha(?) then Denise, Sasha and Bob, Abraham with Rosita and the Sasha, Eugene’s interest in Tara and Rosita, Aaron and Eric, Carl with Beth and then Enid, Jesus coming out to Maggie...). And the fact that it has continued to be ambiguous, and to be covered as some kind of mystery as of late, leads directly into a chance for one final, organic reveal. Daryl has always been a character that’s formed unique and important bonds with others. He was integral to Jesus being introduced into the show and they’ve shared some very important scenes since; plus, it’s easy to pick up on signs that Jesus might have a bit of a crush on, or is at least attracted to, Daryl. (There are so many desus scenes, shots, parallels, etc. that have already been talked about, so I won’t here, but you know. you know you know.) Showing a bond between Daryl and Jesus that turns into romance would be an interesting story, a new one for both characters, it would make sense in a myriad of ways, and it would also be groundbreaking. (Also, Daryl deserves some freaking happiness and dialogue for once, just as Jesus deserves to be pushed to the forefront, and something like this could do just that.)

Maybe Tara can make the move to Oceanside. She needs a break, some time to get herself together, and she’s closely tied to that community already… which is full of women. Give Tara a girlfriend that isn’t murdered. (Cyndie? How even old is she, I don’t know.)

Maybe Rosita can find happiness again, now that she’s more chill and humble. Her bond with Tara can be further explored. If they want to throw her into a romance like in the comic, it sure as hell isn’t going to be with Eugene (either kill in in redemption or do something other than this back and forth confliction), so how about Tara or Siddiq? Dwight seems likely, given their interactions thus far, and while I’m still salty about him I see that he’s trying to redeem himself and Rosita would be someone who would understand that. There’s also Gabriel, but I would rather see him continue to sort of mentor her.

Maybe Ezekiel can rebuild Kingdom and maintain his more active role as a King, letting his people know the drill instead of feeding them an image. Maybe Carol can be his queen, his second in command, and they can be themselves together as they know exactly who the other is. A romance between them already seems perfectly set up; we’ve seen that they clearly care for each other and have a deep connection. 

I could go on, but I’m just spitballing here (and probably also revealing some things i’ve planned for my fic’s sequel so oops). There are tons of things this show could do in place of constant tragedy. Yes, deaths can still happen. People can still be shitty, walkers can still bite and eat people, that’s how it’s always been. Conflict and angst have to there. But after a war this big, with so many losses from s7 and s8, we need something else. We need to bring back that feeling of survival in the face of certain death, those little rays of hope than shine after dark times. The show needs this if it wants to be good again and not just become another thing on TV that’s wasting away. 

The characters deserve better, the actors deserve better, and we deserve better.

I’m so close to quitting before we even get to what Angela might be able to do, and you don’t know how sad that makes me. It doesn’t matter that all of this is fiction; it’s such a big part of who I am at this point, and to have it screwed around with by someone who clearly doesn’t give a shit is something I still don’t understand, and I’m not even as critical about TWD as some people are! I can overlook a lot, find enjoyment in certain things that might otherwise be bad or annoying, and like… I don’t even know if I have an episode that I hate. I’m just done with wondering about what we could’ve gotten if things had gone differently. I still really wish they will, but it’s up in the air at this point.

So… Please, 8b, don’t burn that final straw. I want to tune in for s9 with real interest and investment and excitement again, not just because I’m loyal to the characters that are still standing.

Sorry.

[sambart93]

2017.10.06/09 Awatenboi no Yoi Doretachi Review!

Come on.. it’s me going to HirokiKun’s play again! This time though, it was his first ever LEAD ROLE stage!! I’m so proud of him! And it was so good and such an interesting set up and -- I’ll get to it!

Official Twitter here Ticket/Stage Information here

CAST and CHARACTERS* *I may get the names mixed up or forget them a bit because there’s no pamphlet or anything.

Tanaka Hiroki as Yamato Tanabe Toshiki as Master Mizuki Momoko as Naho/Nao Yanase Saki as Ageha Mizuno Natsuki as Tomoko Kondou Yousuke as Rikiya Aoki Kuroudo(?) as Otaku Geek Hachifuku Mizuho as Kotori Moto Shige as Kotori’s husband

NON-SPOILER REVIEW

Overall: This was so good! First off, the set is amazing; it’s in an actual bar and they served us drinks when we came in like real barmen. We sit in actual bar/customer seats and they basically act AROUND us for the 90 minutes. The first 30 minutes or so is very much just adlib and improve with some actual story sprinkled in and then the last 30/40 minutes is to a script. It was a simple but good story and I loved the hilarity and the adlibbing/improv that went on. Hiroki was just a pure baby <3 I’m so proud of him; the way he’s able to switch from genuinely laughing hard at an adlib to suddenly getting into actor mode and being this scared, timid character who’s crying his heart out is just so amazing to witness- he’s very talented, but I already knew that! They were all great and they’re already in talks for a second stage! Rating: 8/10

SPOILER REVIEW

Story

It’s been 6 months since Yamato turned up one night at the bar and started working there. He’s also dating his coworker Naho but hasn’t yet told his boss - who also has a slight crush on her. One evening, a man named Rikiya, comes into the bar while Yamato is on his own in the front and threatens him to return the money his father has borrowed from them years ago. If he doesn’t pay it back then it won’t be pretty. Rikiya notices that Naho is in the back and tells Yamato; you either return the money, or use her body to pay me back. We also have other running storylines such as an Otaku who’s too obsessed with 2D to realise that a regular customer has a massive crush on him; we have a husband who appears to be cheating on his wife, and she’s found out; and we also have a hostess who’s with the husband and trying to earn as much as money as she can for something (revealed towards the end).

The Play Itself

This was very interesting and had a nice balance of serious and comedy. As stated above, the first part of this is just pure adlibbing and improve between Yamato and Master and both times I saw this stage, it was hilarious. 

Between the adlibs in the first part, we see Naho come to the store and go in the back to change and get ready for work. The master who has a crush on her tries to open the staff room door while she’s part way through changing.

Eventually the master leaves the bar to do something and in comes Rikiya who threatens Yamato, (pulling him over the bar partially and then throwing him down to the ground) to pay him back asap. Towards the end of this conversation, Naho comes out from the back and to the bar where Rikiya implies ‘pay me back or use her body to get the money’ and he leaves. Yamato says that’s his Aniki (which means both older brother and yakuza-partner), so Naho assumes it’s his brother. Naho brushes the subject off and asks Yamato if he’s told the master about them yet. She momentarily goes in the back for something and Yamato takes the chance to take all the money out of the cashier.

Yamato’s Otaku friend comes in after shopping in Nakano Broadway. he’s obsessed with 2D characters and carries a figure with him all the time; conveniently the figure is called Naho and he also has somewhat of a crush on Naho too and anytime he does something wrong to even slightly annoy or upset her, he would beg for forgiveness on the floor xD He was followed by Ageha and (who turns out to be) Kotori’s husband. It looks like they’re a couple but neither of them explicitly say what’s going on between them. This is where another higawari takes place from Kotori’s husband, but I only remember the one from the 6th:

Kotori’s husband: Butai Ni hamatteru/ Recently I’m into watching stages. Master: Fujiwara Tatsiya? Husband: Sonnani fueteinai Tanaka Hiroki to iu / Not someone that famous. He’s called Tanaka Hiroki *HirokiKun immediately starts to flush in the face* Master: What’s he in? Husband: Next month he’s in something like….. (nan toka) Something something blue. It’s around November 12… Hiroki whispers: 8th to the 15th Master: How do you know Yamato? Hiroki: Oh I don’t! I just figured it was that. Husband: So it’s western Blue or…. Hiroki whisperes again: Marker Light Blue Master: HOW DO YOU KNOW?! Hiroki: Well it sounds right

He got so embarrassed and it was adorable!

After this scene the husband pulls Master aside and says that he’s noticed his phone is in a different place every time he wakes up recently, so that means his wife knows about the affair!

After Ageha and the husband leave, Naho’s friend Tomoko, a very shy easily shaken girl, who we soon learn has a huge crush on the Otaku, turns up. Yet both Yamato and Naho are like ‘what’s there to like about him?!’

Once the master comes back Naho drags Yamato and Tomoko outside to try and figure out how she can confess her feelings to the Otaku. The master is left to ask the guy ‘do you even know what love is? Are you even a man? Don’t you want to become a man?’ and Otaku gets intrigued and wants to find out what it is. The master explains how to get his foot in the door of the Mans World. It is at this point where he grabs the top of two cocktail shakers and goes ‘Oppai!.... Op...pai.... O...P...P....A....I...OPPAI!’ and he and Otaku end up doing this huge ‘OPPAI OPPAI!’ celebration dance WHICH Tomoko walks in on and is naturally hugely scared away.

Then the master gets an even better idea; he remembers Naho mentioning she had gotten her bikini dry cleaned and that bikini is in the staff room. ‘Do you want to see Naho’s underwear?’ and he runs into the back and brings the bikini out. He entices Otaku into going to sniff the bottoms of her bikini, but just as they go to sniff, Naho and co storm in (Tomoko obviously told them the situation she had walked in on) and in a flurry Master stuffs the bikini bottoms in his back pocket, out of sight, before they could sniff them.

And now we have the huge entrance of Kotori. She storms in and demands to see her husband who isn’t there and that she knows about the affair and she’s going to divorce him. Within this scene we get a lot of hilarious parts, such as Master going ‘why is he with someone so ug-’ ‘Were you going to call me UGLY?! I am not ugly, I am CUTE!’ as well as her trying to get on the bar stool but because of her weight, she keeps pushing it away with her big bum rather than getting on it, so she eventually jumps on it and then because she kept pushing it further down the bar, she’s practically sitting on Tomoko too and her reply is ‘WAH?! Why you so close to me?! Look at all these space on my right side!’

After being upset about her husband, she tries to cheer up when Rikiya walks in and she’s like ‘we got a customer! Come on everyone! Lets go go go!’ and she disappears from behind the bar. The stage’s atmosphere takes a turn, Rikiya is unforgiving and doesn’t care if the bar is full and that his friends are here, he wants his money and he’ll get it back right now. Just at that moment, Kotori’s husband and Ageha come back to the bar and a rather funny exchange occurs where Kotori and her husband are having a conversation while Ageha and Rikiya (turns out they used to be together) are having a conversation. The two conversations blend so well that at a few points it sounds like Rikiya is replying to Kotori’s words rather than Ageha and it created a lot of comedy. It would be something like.

Kotori’s husband to Kotori: I didn’t do anything I swear! Ageha to Rikiya: You were mean and you didn’t care about anyone else. Kotori to husband: But you love me right?! Why would you do that? Rikiya to Ageha but sounds like he’s replying to Kotori: I never said that!

I’m not doing it justice but it was very funny!

After this quarrel, we get back to the main story which is Rikiya demanding money from Yamato, and Rikiya takes none of it and none of the apologies from Yamato, and starts to get violent: throwing the master, Kotori’s husband and Yamato violently to the ground a lot and hitting them etc. But part way through there’s a rather funny scene where Kotori is like ‘I’m a black belt! Let me at him!’ and as soon as she sizes up to him (she’s about half a foot shorter than him to begin with) she yells ‘OUCH CRAMP!’ and gets out of there immediately. 

There is another hilarious scene throughout this, when the master is thrown to the floor and Naho spots her bikini bottoms in his pocket. She’s like ‘what is that? ... WHAT IS THAT? ... and what were you going to do with them? .. WHAT... were you going to do with them?!..... *switches to cutesy voice* could you tell me your plan with them?’ and the master (he’s bricking himself) goes ‘Me and Otaku were-’ to which Tomoko butts in and defends Otaku ‘DON’T YOU DARE BRING HIM INTO THIS! HE DID NOTHING WRONG!’ so Master is left on his own and he replies ‘....I was going to... put them on my head....’ and Naho sizes up to him and says ‘then... put.... them... on’ and he does and everyone in the room was just dying of laughter. BUT Rikiya is pissed that everyone is just going off on tangents whereas he’s there and means business so he pushes Naho and the master to the ground. It’s at this point where Yamato is on his hands and knees in front of Naho, protecting her, beginning for Rikiya to stop and that he’ll find a way to help him out. But Rikiya yells that he’s tired of waiting, he either gives him the money now or uses Naho’s body to get it back.

It’s then at this point too that the master gets back up and defends Yamato saying that he’ll protect him, that he did nothing wrong, that he’s there for him... and then you just hear Naho go ‘Master.... the pants are still on your head’ and everyone cracked a giggle as he quickly realises and pulls them off quickly. Of course this enrages Rikiya even more and throws Master to the ground hard.

It’s at this point, Ageha blurts out that she’s pregnant with his kid and that the only reason she’s working as a hostess is so she can afford to look after the child and she hates what Rikiya has become and has decided she’s going to raise the child herself rather than it know what an awful man the father is. But then she also says ‘you were once Yamato! You’re doing exactly the same thing to him as was done to you! That’s why you became one of them, you had no way out! And now you’re doing it to Yamato too!’

Rikiya takes a moment and approaches Yamato and Naho who are now stood up and near each other; they instinctively flinch and Yamato throws his arm around Naho and his back to Rikiya to protect her. But instead of hurting them Rikiya drops a lawyer’s business card to the floor and says that guy can help him out, and he leaves with Ageha following, saying she’ll at least give him one last time to talk to her about it all.

And END.

So as you can see, a simple story that’s got a good balance of drama and comedy! It’s really good you guys, wish more people could’ve seen it.

Some Comments

It’s amazing how easily the tone changes when between the adlibbing with Yamato and Master at the beginning of the play and when the play actually starts and Rikiya walks in. Seeing the transition in Hiroki was amazing! It got serious so quickly! I love how professionally and so flawlessly he transitioned in that ‘scared out of his wits’ atmosphere and body language.

Also, towards the end, there is so much slamming onto the floor and throwing people around. How no one was hurt, I have no idea! Especially Master/Toshi when he kept getting thrown down because he would always land on his right knee first!

There’s a moment towards the beginning of the play where Toshi would approach a female audience member and often them a drink that HirokiKun would make. On the 6th, HirokiKun didn’t close the cocktail shaker enough and some of it came out and on him. On the 9th, Toshi also asked a male audience member if he wanted Naho to make him a drink so she also gave out a drink. Both times Hirokikun called the drink COUNTRY ROAD and Toshi was like ‘DASAI! // That’s an atrocious name. Why Country Road?!’ xD

I seriously, seriously love that moment where Yamato protects Naho with his body at the end! It was done so flawlessly and it’s just such a sweet moment!

The 6th Differences/Notes

When I walked in Toshi and Hiroki greeted me (they were behind the bar making drinks for everyone) and:

Toshi: What would you like? Me: Do you have any recs? Hiroki: What do you like? Sweet ones? Me: yes! Hiroki: Then I recommend a KashiOrange Me: okay I’ll take that

And he made my drink for me and gave it to me ^_^ Toshi just left us to it.

Before the show started, I got an email saying I’d hit for Hiroki’s play in December ‘Ikazuchigaoka ni Yuki ga Furu / Snow Falls in Ikazuchigaoka’ (see here) so I was super duper happy!

Before the show started and they were just waiting for the last few people to arrive, Toshi was like ‘Yamato (Hiroki) is very good at monomanes/impersonations, right?!’ and Hiroki stopped what he was doing and was like 'eh?! …. well how about you? What are you good at?’. Toshi replied 'I’m good at stories’ so he told the story about the foreigner who wanted to get a kanji tattoo and his Japanese friend said you should get ‘cool guy’ tattooed…. it ended up being the kanji of 冷子 as in literally a COLD/cool kid xD and then Toshi was like 'I ain’t gunna start the stage until you do a monomane’ so Hirokikun did this awful Dragon Ball impression, and was like 'I hope NAHO turns up soon’ and she came through the door to start the show. He was so embarrassed he had to do an impression.

The 9th Differences/Notes

Instead of forcing Hiroki to do impersonations before Naho walks in. This time Hiroki had printed off parts of Line Conversations between the two of them and showed us some really embarrassing pictures of Toshi pulling the worst faces ever. And then Toshi got his revenge; he had printed off one of Hiroki’s Marker Light Blue pictures and said ‘this looks very similar to something else.... an AMERICAN MONKEY!’ and showed us a picture of the monkey too. It was so cruel of him and Hiroki yelled ‘I can remember all the people here who laughed just now!’ xD

Then during the scene where Master tries to open the staff door to see Naho change, she stormed out and slapped him with a magazine and stormed back in and Toshi just stood there in shock, ‘did you just see what she did? I didn’t expect her to actually do it!’

It was so much more emotional at the end this time around for the second show -- it was their final show too -  and I cried so hard.

FINAL CURTAIN CALL FOR FINAL SHOW

HirokiKun cried during the curtain call, but I don’t think it helps that I was crying hard. I had started crying from the tense Rikiya part all the way to the end, and he was stood right next to me and saw me crying so we both just kept rolling out water from our eyes xD

Rikiya’s actor came back into the room at the end with the 2D anime doll in his hands and everyone started laughing xD

Naho’s actress got really emotional and said she was happy she got the role she had and happy she could work with HirokiKun and as his pair. I think me and her kept looking at each other two and making each other just cry more. Ageha’s actress was next to Naho and kept looking at me too, I think I cracked her emotions by looking at me too a few times.

Kotori’s actress said at the curtain call that if she gets the chance next time, she wants to be Ageha in the next stage. Rikiya’s actor said he’d like to try Kotori’s husband’s role but now if Mizuho is Ageha next time xD

They’ve talked about doing it in an actual stage next time. But I prefer the bar setting. It’s more intimate, more real; it’s just a very different experience to what I’ve tried before.

They also mentioned that when they first got the script, no one had a set character yet so they had all tried the different characters, to which Rikiya’s actor Kondou said ‘I want to see Hiroki play now and me play Yamato right now’ and Toshi was like ‘YES! LETS DO THIS!’ and so Kondou gave Hiroki his yakuza jacket and it was so big on him; he looked even more like a manchild xD

So with Hiroki playing Rikiya at the end, he stormed into the room (they re-enacted the very first scene between Rikiya and Yamato) and immediately Toshi starts wetting himself hard and can’t take it easy at all. But Hiroki held it together almost the entire time and kept in character. But a few times we all broke was when Hiroki had to sit on the bar stool and Toshi straight away - before Hiroki each pulled the chair out - blurted out ‘can he even get on there?! (cos he’s so tiny) and so Hiroki tried but couldn’t get in the chair normally, so jumped up and into it. His voice worked very well as Rikiya but his actions and his height - and Toshi’s laughing - made it hilarious. He tried to grab Kondou from over the counter but because he’s so short he could barely keep his tiptoes on the stool as he lent over, and then he had literally no strength to throw Kondou down to the floor xD It was SO funny.

*

GOODS

A guy from the Friday night show was also there again on the Monday/last show! We got along rather well and spent time before and after the play talking; he was there for Ageha’s actress. He was sweet and we could trade our photos together luckily!

*

And that’s all! I really hope we get a second stage really soon!

[atrocitycl]

TWICE - “TWICE’s Elegant Private Life” Show Review

(Playlist: Episode Cuts)

TWICE – TWICE’s Elegant Private Life (Produced by Mnet)

Reviewed on June 21, 2017

If one is a TWICE fan, I do recommend the show. Otherwise, if one is watching (Korean) reality shows for the sake of the show itself, I do find that there are other, better alternatives to TEPL. But that said, this show can definitely be a solid introduction to TWICE if viewers are unfamiliar of them and desire to become fans.  

Edit: Huge apologies for this post being delayed. As readers can tell from reading, this review was written a while back and only now have I officially posted it. Many reviews will be coming after this. Once again, I apologize to readers for the lack of content for the past weeks.

Personal Message: As mentioned in the prior post, I had my wisdom teeth extracted (on June 7) and thus, have not been able to post as frequently as desired. That said, after a full week of recovery and admittedly catching up on shows rather than reviews and subtitling videos, I decided it might be best to return with a review on the shows I have been watching. Afterwards, we have many special reviews—one, in particular, was even requested by a label company directly. That review will be coming out only a few days after this one and I am quite excited for it. From there, we will then be reviewing IU (as it was requested by a personal friend) and I hope to then review Fiestar’s Yezi’s recent solo comeback with her new rap song. And of course, amidst all of this, I will be hastily catching up on subtitling videos for Fiestar, and particularly I will be attempting to cover videos regarding Yezi’s latest comeback.

Indeed, there is quite a lot for me to do even if I should be merely relaxing during summer, but unfortunately I am those types of people who feel that I should always be productive in some form—though, biasedly, I argue we can and should always be productive even if that means something as casual as catching up on dramas. In fact, especially for readers who are working, in their later years of high school or in college, I might even share my own tips in a bonus post on why my particular definition of “being productive” can not only help people be more productive in a general sense, but also with—surprisingly—relaxing. But as this is unintentionally sounding as if I have some secret to finding happiness in life, I might as well explain what my definition of “productive” is: namely, that no matter what one does, it brings something meaningful versus something wasteful. Now for an actual example, while one would usually not consider watching shows to be remotely “productive,” I argue it still is especially if one is “catching up.” After all, catching up on TWICE shows and V Live broadcasts is much better than, for a random example, mindlessly watching random, filler content videos on YouTube that consists of a “top 10” of the most arbitrary items. Thus, this is what I mean by constantly being “productive”: even if it involves relaxing, getting the most out of an activity is what matters instead of mindlessly browsing the internet and other typical, procrastinating activities.

Now while we are on a slight tangent, before getting into our review on TWICE’s Elegant Private Life (or TEPL from here on for convenience), I do wish to share how my wisdom teeth extraction went. Especially as some readers might be nervous of their own impending operation or that readers simply want to hear a story (though I am a horrible storyteller), I find sharing my own experience might help put some at ease. (And that said, feel free to skip below for the actual bonus review.) After all, I personally sought out as many stories as I could prior to the surgery in order to mentally prepare myself, but unfortunately I was not able to find any story on the actual procedure itself. Thus, I will do my best to actually explain what happens in case readers are worried or curious. But given that my storytelling tends to be horrible, I will leave a firm reassurance: the surgery truly is not that bad—in terms of the procedure, that is. If one feels anxious on the actual surgery, I suggest that one redirects that anxiety towards afterwards as that is when the true pain and struggles begin. And, if it helps ease anyone, if I can make it through the procedure—the biggest baby and a boy with a ridiculously sensitive gag reflex and whose wisdom teeth were very “impacted”—then I am certain everyone else can make it without any problems at all.

Regarding how the experience went, first I will clarify that I was merely numbed for it—or at least objectively and medically speaking as we will get to. Before getting into what occurs, though, let us talk about preparations. While there was no physical preparation required at all (although some might opt for a sedative pill from what I have heard), I did spend some time preparing mentally during the few hours before the operation and I recommend readers to do the same. Specifically, I created a music playlist on my phone—this serving as my “mental numbing” if we dare call it such. For the playlist, I loaded up favorite songs, songs I planned on finally listening to, and so forth. Arrogantly, I finished creating the playlist when it would last roughly forty-five minutes; after all, typically, that is the average length of the surgery from what basic internet research revealed. That is where it all went wrong, however, but more to share on that later.

As for the experience itself, after comfortably settling—or restlessly squirming—into the dentist chair, I signed off a waiver (if that is what it is called) in case of extremely rare complications that could arise. Now while I remember one line that roughly read as: “…loss of feeling…” I admittedly ended up skipping the remaining bullet points as my brain began reading the rest as “death…death…death…” and merely signed it off. At this point, I am allowed to plug in one earbud and do so hastily. Now, the idea behind listening to songs during the surgery is that the songs are to, indeed, distract me from the fact that my mouth was soon to be heavily mutilated and invaded by five or so devices at once, that blood will be splashing everywhere, and that sounds of cracking teeth would hopefully be drowned out. I hope that is not too gruesome to share. On topic, after signing off the form for what felt like my execution, I had four odd sticks inserted in my mouth. To this day, I have no idea on what these were for except that two were placed on top and two at the bottom, and that it left the typical “dentist-cherry-flavor.” Yes, incredibly vague terms but I have no other way of describing it and I feel that my description of the flavor is quite accurate. From here, I was left alone.

After some time resting, the mentioned sticks were removed and it was now time for numbing. Although in theory having a needle injected into one’s gums sounds painful, it merely felt like a small yet sharp pinch. Admittedly I do not remember much regarding the numbing process, but it truly is as simple as being injected and then being left alone once again in order for the numbing to work. Now, regarding what it feels like to be numbed, I should clarify my views are rather twisted: I, for some odd reason, believed the numbing also came with some sedative. In reality, my mouth was merely numbed; in other words, my entire mouth became solely tingly—nothing more or less. But, quite embarrassingly, I managed to falsely convince myself I was also being sedated and thus, my supposed drowsiness and even giggling when asked how I was doing are not actual effects. I am sincerely am an embarrassing mess, but I find that this false perception of being sedated helped as having music playing in one ear and “sleeping” during the surgery definitely made the experience more tolerable.

Onto the actual surgery, there is little to be said as one does not feel anything but pressure. After the dentist checked to see if I was truly numbed, the procedure consisted of lots of suction devices, drilling at times, and much pulling. The only struggle I had, as alluded to earlier, is that I wished my music playlist was far lengthier. With the first playing, music genuinely did distract me and helped keep me calm. However, on the second playing, I began focusing less on the songs—due to already hearing them once—and started to be more aware of what was happening. Likewise, it is also at this point I realized I was not sedated at all and was quite ridiculous to have even thought of such. On the third playing, not only are the songs now mere background noises, but I also began to start opening my eyes versus “sleeping,” and this is where I began gagging somewhat often as I realized there were many devices in my mouth at once. Therefore, for my advice, I recommend readers to have an incredibly lengthy playlist as, especially if complications arise such as in my case (my bottom wisdom teeth were quite difficult to remove), the procedure can last for a while and having new songs to actively pay attention to helps.

After the surgery, this is where pain finally comes—or, more specifically, after two hours after the surgery. Post-operation directions will be given, but in summary, it consists of gently biting on certain cloths to stop the bleeding. Also, as one can hardly spit (nor should one even spit at  all until many days later) due to the numbing, much time will also be spent merely letting blood-infused-saliva dripping out of one’s mouth. For what I highly recommend, once the numbing begins wearing off and one is capable of drinking water, one should begin taking pain medicine. I made a horrible mistake of not doing such as I arrogantly assumed I had high pain tolerance when, in reality, I was simply still numbed. But, as soon as the numbing faded away, my pain grew from a dull ache to, quite suddenly, my upper right wisdom teeth deciding to give birth. It was at this moment I scrambled desperately for pain medicine as I was quite certain I began seeing angels. Horrible jokes aside, though, I do recommend taking pain medicine before all the numbing entirely disappears and one is left with much pain.

All in all, wisdom teeth extraction is not too bad at all and I hope I eased—or not—any reader who is anxious about their own upcoming surgery. Finally onto the review now, during the days of recovery, besides being excused to consuming an unhealthy amount of ice cream and developing a phobia towards mashed potatoes, I have decided to watch TEPL. Now before discussing the show, given the tradition of addressing the question of whether I cried or not while watching this particular reality show, I admittedly did shed some tears as, simply stated, if Jihyo cries then I cry with her. However of course, nothing will ever come close to the bawling that occurred when I watched Jessica & Krystal and indeed the sisters’ reality show remains the best I have ever watched. Lastly, for final technical points to address, the playlist included are merely video cuts of the full episodes. Readers who desire to watch the full show along with English subtitles can easily find sources via internet searching. Furthermore, with this review, rather than the typical format of ratings that I have done in the past, show reviews will now merely consist of a “recommendation phrase” and reasons for such in the analytical part. After all, while numbers provide a concrete platform for readers to think and help organize a song’s breakdown, the same cannot be easily applied to reality shows—or at least, not with my current lack of knowledge regarding show qualities.

With all of that, let us finally head into the review and see whether TEPL worth watching or not.

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Recommendation: If one is a TWICE fan, I do recommend the show. Otherwise, if one is watching (Korean) reality shows for the sake of the show itself, I do find that there are other, better alternatives to TEPL. But that said, this show can definitely be a solid introduction to TWICE if viewers are unfamiliar of them and desire to become fans.  

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Analysis: With TEPL, it needs to first be clarified that the title itself is misleading: the show does not focus purely or even predominantly on the supposed “private life” of the ladies. Certainly there are snippets involved, but admittedly the show functions more as any other typical (Korean) reality show—notable comparisons being other common reality shows such as Showtime, One Fine Day, The TaeTiSeo, and so forth. In other words, this means TEPL does not focus on what the ladies do in their private times per se but rather, it focuses on a myriad of general activities: watching TWICE cook; hearing the ladies discuss their ideal types; observing their dorm life; laughing with them at the expense of scaring Nayeon; and the like. For those familiar with reality shows (or at least Korean ones; I am unsure if culturally the idea of “reality shows” varies), this indeed follows the exact protocol as any other: observing the ladies engaging with many activities—hence, the “reality” aspect.

Without necessarily summarizing all of the activities depicted on the show as that would not only spoil the show but would be redundant and not a “review” at all, I will instead focus on how effectively the said activities are portrayed. With the activities, as mentioned, there are a variety of them involved but more importantly the types of activities are diverse as well—this, in my view, is the most important aspect. Let us use an example. During one episode, the main, overarching theme of TWICE’s activity involved creating videos whether in the form of creating a minor music video or parodying dramas. However, afterwards the “topic” changes into something that is completely different than creating videos. Especially when compared to other reality shows that might stick to the same “topic” for an excessive time, I find that TEPL adopts a balanced form of depth and variety. A contrasting example to use is with Jessica & Krystal where in one episode, while the ladies were engaged in multiple activities, the overall “topic” was still that of shopping. With TEPL, if we were to imagine a similar scenario, what would occur instead would be that the topic of shopping only lasts for a certain amount before that very topic soon changes to something completely different. Thus, the overall point is this: the show allows TWICE and viewers to experience multiple “topics” with an amount of depth that is not too short or too long. That said, depending on one’s preferences, this can be both good and bad. Viewers who enjoy depth versus breadth might find this show less appealing (and thus enjoy other shows such as Jessica & Krystal more). On the other hand, those who enjoy breadth more than depth would find TEPL suiting as the show does focus more on showing multiple sides to TWICE (and this does make sense given that this show was the ladies’ first, major reality show).

With content out of the way, let us actually focus on the show in a structural sense as, unlike all reality shows I have previously watched, the editing to the show is rather peculiar. Here, I find that the show’s format can easily deter—or attract—viewers. For what I am specifically referring to, the episodes are seemingly divided in half: the first half of an episode consists of one main “topic” and the second half begins another topic. This, though, means that the second half’s topic is then finished in the next episode—something that is quite odd as typical reality shows simply organize an entire episode around one topic. To use a fictional example as this might be clearer, let us pretend that in episode 5, the first half of the episode consists of TWICE cooking. Then, the second half would make a sudden switch where it is about TWICE dancing. From there, episode 6’s first half would be finishing up the part about dancing and then the remaining half will be a new topic. In a general sense, this is how TEPL is formatted throughout all of its episodes minus, perhaps, the first episode or so.

Different or not, this structure to the show comes with both strengths and weaknesses. On the positive side, because of how episodes are halved on topics, it leaves a sense of the episode having more variety. After all, rather than one episode being focused on one activity, there are now two. Furthermore, when it comes to length, having each episode segmented in this manner prevents them from feeling too excessive; an entire episode focused purely on one topic can, indeed, feel repetitive especially if all of the episodes follow a similar trend. And—though the following could easily be a negative—I found myself more engaged to the show as the episodes naturally left “cliffhangers”: the remaining half of a topic would only be finished on the next episode. Thus, if episode 6 ended with dancing, the beginning half of episode 7 would be the conclusion of such—and this does work well with keeping viewers interested and desiring more.

However, despite all these potential benefits, the biggest issue that comes is how the show can at times feel incredibly disorganized. There is a reason reality shows tend to follow the tradition of keeping each episode highly focused on a certain activity or topic: it is intuitive and easy to follow. While I did watch TEPL in a dedicated manner as I watched an episode per day, I can imagine the show would be more difficult to keep track of if a viewer watches the episodes sparingly. For example, even with watching an episode every day, there were still moments where I had to actually re-watch the prior episode’s ending to recall what was happening in the current episode. This confusion occurs because a new episode is not a new topic or activity; it is the continuation of one. As such, if a viewer has poor memory or watches an episode every three days, it can be understood on why this show’s structure is problematic and that the traditional format—a new episode is genuinely new—would be far more effective. Nevertheless, even if not more effective than the usual format of reality shows, I appreciate Mnet’s attempt of creating a new style for the show.

Overall, as said in the recommendation, this show is definitely worth watching if one is a fan of TWICE or are trying to become a fan or at least become familiar with the ladies. However, when it comes to reality shows in a general sense, there are far more interesting shows that exist such as Jessica & Krystal or Europe That GFriend Loves. But, in terms of all of the reality shows TWICE have done, TEPL is definitely a highlight and I argue is tied with TWICE TV4. (And on that note, once TWICE TV5 is finished, I plan on reviewing it as well as—so far, at least—it is one of the poorer reality shows I have watched. That said, the fifth season is interesting as it seems to be more akin to standard vlogs rather than an actual reality show as were seasons three and four.)

For finals words, after finally getting much more familiar with TWICE and arguably even becoming a fan, I now understand why the ladies are quite popular despite how, in my argument, they are one of the more musically weak groups in the K-Pop scene—or at least, from what they have portrayed via their songs. Certainly, they are individually improving with their vocals (and of course, that Jihyo, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon are all already solid vocalists) and TWICE does in fact have solid songs such as “Knock Knock,” “Only You,” and “1 to 10,” but in an overall view, I and perhaps others can agree TWICE is not the strongest musical group at all. Ignoring the genuinely disrespectful and immature people who bash TWICE personally, the ladies’ weaker vocals and even songs (I argue all title songs minus “Knock Knock” are quite weak) is where a majority of criticism towards the group comes from. After all, TWICE is arguably the most popular female group in K-Pop as of now, and this somehow is the case despite the mentioned lacking in their songs and singing. Of course their dancing is definitely solid and their strongest suit, but it would be hard to imagine that their choreographies are able to compensate for everything else to the degree of becoming one of the most popular artists in K-Pop. What, then, I argue leads to TWICE’s success is the accompanying aspect to K-Pop: the personal side. TWICE has mastered a way of sincerely connecting to fans on a personal level—and I argue the secret is none other than how the ladies are very humble and genuine when on camera. For an artist to thrive, they need both: solid music and dances and appealing on a personal level. Even if TWICE lacks the former, they more than make up in the latter and this is perhaps why TWICE is utterly popular.

All in all, and to tie back to this review, TEPL is one example of the ladies appealing to the public with their personalities and interactions. And so, while I hope to see TWICE improving musically, I also hope the ladies continue to maintain their ability to connect with fans as this is what has potentially led to their massive success.

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As readers can tell, this post should have been posted much longer ago. It is only now that I have finished some of the writing that was needed, but I do apologize greatly. Reviews will most likely take on a back-to-back trend so that everything is caught up. Unfortunately, while I do deserve some time to relax over summer, I have become far too relaxed and have put off reviews and even subtitling videos for Fiestar. I will hastily work on catching up with the latter and will also work on catching up on reviews. The next review is a special one as it was directly requested by a label company and thus, I hope readers enjoy it.

Thank you for reading or skimming this review. Look forward for content to finally resume a standard schedule.

[appreciatetheunderappreciated]

Can you do a preference when they cheat on you? Please. (I live for angst).

When Some of The Members from Band of Brothers Cheat on You:

(I know there’s a lot of people missing from this but I just had no idea what to write for them and I’m so sorry. If you want me to add more just let me know, I’ll be more than willing to add on to this!)

“Shifty” Powers:

I’m just going to put this out there 

Shifty would never do anything to hurt you

If he did 

he physically

and mentally 

would NOT be able to live with himself

George Luz:

You would probably want to hit him because you just wouldn’t know what you did to have him cheat on you

If you did hit him

He would accept it

and wouldn’t bother stopping you

Because he knows that he deserves it

He would give you space for a while

and he would miss you more than anything during that time apart

I feel like every night he would stop by the house and leave you a rose or something on the front step 

And once he was somewhat sure that you cooled off he would stop by 

and he would make you sit down with him and talk to him about it

He would tell you how much of a mistake it was 

And that he didn’t mean for it to happen

And he would end up saying something stupid that would make you laugh

Then he would promise that you’re the only girl for him and he would apologize a billion times more

Lewis Nixon:

He would most likely cheat on you after a fight the two of you had

He would go to a bar and end up drinking WAY too much

He would go home with someone and well yeah you know what happens from there

The next day he would wake up and immediately feel sick to his stomach because of what he’s done

I feel like he wouldn’t know how to tell you

So he probably wouldn’t say anything at first

And then once the two of you start to makeup he would just blurt it out that he got drunk and slept with someone

And he would probably hang his head in shame and start to go off on a tangent about how perfect you are and how you deserve better than someone like him

But you know that he would never do anything to hurt you if he wasn’t drunk

And that he does care about you

So you would forgive him

Even though it would take a while for you to trust him fully

And he wouldn’t understand why you would want to be with him after that 

but he wouldn’t be complaining 

because whats important is that you are together again.

Bill Guarnere:

I feel like Bill couldn’t go through with cheating on you

No matter how mad he is at you or whatever the circumstances are

He just wouldn’t be able to do it

He would be kissing someone else and the whole time he would be thinking about you

And if he didn’t stop there and things went further

He would push the other girl away from him and say that he’s sorry but he’s in love with someone else

He would respect you way too much and he knows his mama wouldn’t approve of this 

because he was brought up to treat girls better than that. 

He would come home to you with a huge bouquet of roses

and he would tell you what happened

He would expect you to leave him but instead you would place your hand on his knee 

and give him a soft smile

Carwood Lipton:

Just the thought of cheating on you would upset him.

He knows that he wouldn’t want you doing that to him

So he would never do it to you

If he even got close enough as to touching another girl he would be so disappointed with himself

He would probably go home to you

and let you know that he loves you

But I couldn’t imagine him ever doing anything to hurt you. 

Joe Liebgott: 

I think it would take a lot for Joe to cheat on you

And if he ever did he wouldn’t know how to make it better

He’d probably give you a free pass to sleep with anyone that you wanted to

And deep down he wouldn’t want you to do it but he knows that there’s nothing he could say or do that would stop you

Because he did the same thing to you

But you would know that two wrongs don’t make a right

SO instead of taking the pass you just would leave the house for a few days and stay with a friend of yours

just to keep him on is toes 

And when you come home you would tell him that you didn’t cheat on him

He would probably be so surprised (but thankful)

and then the two of you would probably spend the rest of the night having some rough sex 

ya know … just to get all of your emotions out or whatever

Floyd Talbert:

He would probably get angry if you ever told him you weren’t in the mood to have sex 

so he would leave the house all pissy and what not

And I feel like it wouldn’t really be surprising if Tab came home with hickies on his neck or smelling like another girl

I mean his nickname is “Bunny” and everyone knows how much he loves sex, including you

And even if you love him you would have prepared yourself for this but it would still make you very upset

He would feel awful for what he’s done because he did care about you and still does 

but he just would think that you’re better off without him

He would probably end things 

but he would tell you repeatedly that he didn’t cheat on you for anything that you did

and that it was just something that happened

After a while though I think he would truly realize how stupid he was 

and he would come back to you and beg for you to take him back

and that he would never do anything to hurt you again.  

[side-eyeing-you]

Okay, so here’s a recollection of the best day of my fandom life? #ECCC

I’m usually just here to make short, dumb, spazzy comments, so bear with me, because this will probably be long. However, I’ll try not to be too repetitive and remember the interesting parts. ;) Apologies if the pics are effing huge. I don’t do this posting thing - ever. hahah

So, first of all, shout out to @oohdembuns​ for peer pressuring me to go to this thing, hahaha. Cons are not usually my jam, but since it was at home, AND CAIT WAS COMING TOO, I was like, “I’d be kinda dumb not to go, right?” Anyway, so I originally just got a Friday pass and a picture with Cait. And was perfectly content with that. Then there was an announcement that they would be offering more VIP passes for sale, and Buns was like, “omg you have to go!!!!” so I thought about it, and thought about it… and tried to calculate out how many dinners out and shopping trips I had to cut out of my life, and decided, “Okay, you’ve convinced me… I’ll buy it, if it becomes available again.” So I was basically at the gym when the link went live for VIP sales, and Buns linked me to it immediately (so dependable!) and I got to buy one, then less than 30 seconds later it was sold out again. Guess I got lucky!

 Onto the day of the con!

 Wasn’t sure how it would be, since I didn’t really talk to anyone via DM or text or anything super regularly that was going. But I’d gotten talking to @supertam87​ and @chrismosstree​ and @myguiltyolpleasure​ a few days before, so it was nice that they were cool enough to welcome me, so I didn’t feel like such a loner hahah. Met up with @valkyrie1969​ and @sileas84​ too. Met @queencaitriona​ and @zengeisha​ and a few others while waiting in line. I gotta say, one of my favorite parts of this weekend was meeting everyone and just hanging out. I wasn’t sure what to expect at first, but you guys guessed it, everyone is as cool IRL as they are online!

 The rest is much of the same. Waiting in line after line after line. Me wanting to off myself, because it was so crowded and hot and stuffy. But hey, that’s con life, lol.

 Panel was surreal to be at. It was fun, and exciting and the MC was funny and made everyone take selfless with their neighbor to ensure that you’d turned off your flash. 

THEN out comes Sam and Cait. I mean, I was like, “Weird. They are right in front of me. This is definitely weird.” But I really enjoyed it and probably missed some bits, so I’ll have to do a re-watch! I honestly could sit and listen to them both ALL FREAKING DAY. They are just so entertaining and fun to watch together, lol.

 Then we tried to go to the 12:30 autograph session. That was full. Which was kind of a good thing, because I was getting hangry at this point. Grabbed some lunch and came back to get lined up for photos. Okay, this was like cattle call and I wanted to just die, hahah. THEN I finally got up to the black curtains where Sam and Cait were standing taking pictures with fans, and it was so weird seeing them there… in motion… in the flesh. They are freakishly tall, yes. And Cait’s legs go on forever. I think her waist is like a whole foot higher than mine, hahah. I walk up to them when it was my turn, and I was like, “Well, this is super weird!” and Cait laughed and they both said, “oh, hi there!” Then snap, done, lol – Get the F outta here, NEXT. Hahah That’s what it felt like, but despite such a time constraint, they were super nice and it was the first real close-up interaction with them, so it was a neat experience.

 Then off to ANOTHER line for the autographs. I got queued in and waited for Sam and Cait to finish their photo ops. I sat on the floor, in the line, and tried to get some rest, but the handlers wanted us to squeeze in tight, so I was literally napping underneath someone’s ass the whole time. I didn’t care though, I was freaking exhausted at this point, hahah. (So I can’t imagine how tired Cait and Sam were?? It was non-stop).

 Then Sam walks in and crowd cheers! Sam-onlies called to the front of the line to begin autographs since Cait was running behind with photos. There weren’t that many Sam-onlies. Then Cait arrived to a crowd full of cheers. And one girl next to me had a Cait only autograph and I fist bumped her, lol. Also, stood next to a super cool shipper who doesn’t know she’s a shipper. She was hilarious. She was like, “goddamnit, I wish I had on google glass so I could just stare at them and record everything on the down low (because they were freaking Nazis about no photography).” This was after we saw Sam walk over to Cait, put his hands on his shoulder, lean down and tease her about hogging all the fans, lol. I died. I was right in front of them when this happened.

 Anyway, got my autograph. Cait was like, “nice to see you again!” Getting autographs after pics worked out, because that’s what I had them sign since I didn’t have anything else to bring. I guess I could’ve had them sign my arm and tattooed it on permanently. JK – I’m not that dedicated. ;) Sam was once again just waiting around for people to sign autographs for. I was like, “Dang, Sam… looks like Cait’s just hogging all the fans. What’s up with that?” And he was like, “I know, right? She’s just being Chatty Cathy over there…” I missed my opportunity to say, “It’s because everyone loves her, don’t you???” Oops. :P

 I wish I had a chance to get some friends something signed by them, but seriously, the handlers were super strict about everything. And I get it, it would take longer to sign more than one thing for everyone, but I get the feeling Sam and Cait would’ve been cool with signing their name to one other item for a BFF or grandma or something. :) (And I found out after that they did, actually! On the down low… very kind of them.)

 Okay, so after all that… I just collapsed by a pillar and waited for the others to finish. Thankful to not be in any more lines. Then we all headed over to the restaurant to meet some other Tumblr peeps. I could only stay for a few minutes, but it was lovely to meet everyone! @ninaf @c2bend @rainmanjdog and others!

 Then off I went to the meet and greet….

Room is set up into probably 10 round tables of 8 people or so. The handlers said to keep two seats open, so naturally, I put my purse on the seat next to mine to save it. ;) Once again, apparently, no freaking pictures were allowed. Who came up with this stupid rule? It’s not like we didn’t pay for the professional pictures and I highly doubt Sam and Cait cared if you took a pic of them from 10 feet away. Not like we were swarming them asking for selfies. Anyway, that was a ranty tangent. Kid you not, though, when Sam or Cait were coming up to our table next, they reminded us, “Now, remember. Phones on the table. Don’t touch them. No pictures allowed.” ANYWAY, we saw Sam and Cait taking selfies with other tables after the fact, so we were like, OH HELL NO. And the handlers noticed that, so one was finally like, “AT THE VERY END, you may ask if Cait wants to take a picture and if she says it’s okay, then you can do so.” We had already seen Sam, so it was like, would’ve been nice if you let us take a pic with Sam too, but we’re happy with Cait! Anyway, I loved the fact that Sam and Cait didn’t give a fuck about the stupid photo rule and just did what they wanted and were gracious to the fans. At the very end, the handlers decided that it would only be fair if Sam and Cait both took pics with each table, so that’s what they did. And a simple gesture made everyone’s day (well, it was icing on the cake). :))

 Rewind:

 Sat at the table closest to entrance/exit. Sam and Cait walked in, got a stealth pic of Sam but missed Cait. They both were holding these cute Jamie and Claire mugs. Sam had brought a bottle of Laphroaig with him. They had to do separate table round robins, for the sake of time, probably. Cait started at the table across from us, and Sam at the opposite end of the room. Anyway, we were just chit chatting amongst ourselves. It was very casual. Once in a lifetime experience, to have Sam and Cait just mingling in the same room as you. Like, wtf. It was weird haha. But anyway, we all kept our respective freak flags under wraps… and everyone was lovely. I did walk over to the bar area with another fan I sat next to, just to get a closer glance of Sam and Cait lol.

 Sam got to our table first. He’s very handsome. Very young-looking. He sat in between these two ladies, so was across from me. I was like, “Y’all can fight over Sam, but dibs on Cait then…” They agreed to the terms of the deal, lol. Sam poured us all a shot of Whisky, which was very nice. It was pretty good. One girl asked me what the name was again, so I guess his sales tactic worked, hahah. (I’m only teasing, okay??). Anyway, Sam was nice and answered everyone’s questions the best he could… he seemed a bit tired, but still friendly and engaged. Someone asked if he took on any of the Jamie qualities or something in real life. And he had to think, and then he said since he had to play Jamie with a “fucked up hand” for a while there, IRL, whenever he got nervous, he would play with his right hand, or move it in weird ways, like Jamie. He also mentioned a bar in Glasgow that he and the guys of Outlander like to go to. I cannot remember the name. And his favorite lift is the dead lift. Gym questions get me snoozin’… lol

 More waiting around until Cait got to our table. Our table was the last to see both Cait and Sam… and she walked over and smiled and said, “ahhh, the best for last.” I sat next to Cait… at a dinner table. That was super surreal, lol. We all said hi and thanks for coming, etc. etc. Then someone asked about Eddie and if she’ll be coming to SA. Sadly, Eddie will not be joining Cait in SA. Cait got to telling us about the whole process then she stopped and was like, “Wait. You guys really want to spend the next 10 minutes talking about my cat’s fucking rabies report??” lmao and we all laughed. We learned that Eddie is 14 years old. Then she was like, “so wait… lemme get everyone’s names! Where are you all from??” She was so friendly and smiley and I cannot…. Then someone mentioned Ryan Gosling and asked if she’s met him before and she told us a funny story about how she lost $20 to Ryan Gosling once, hahaha. And I was like, “Wait. How? Lost a bet?” And then she said that they had the same agent or something, so they all went on this fishing trip together a while back and were playing backgammon hahaha so effing random… and she lost to Ryan Gosling. And she was like, “AND I WAS BROKE. And he was a SUCCESSFUL actor, and I was BROKE… and he STILL took my money.” Ahahhah. Then the lady was like, “Omg, I spoke to someone who knows Ryan Gosling…” and I turned to her and was like, “Nevermind that you spoke with CAIT.” Lol and she just giggled and said, “awww, come on…” lol like all “pffft, I’m nobody” QUEEN. Also, at one point she complimented a lady who said she was in her 50s and told her she was gorgeous, when the topic of aging make-up came up regarding Claire and Jamie, so as to say, they didn’t really need to be EXTRA with their aging process, because people in their 50s still can look great and youthful. She was super sweet and encouraged us to ask her questions and also asked us questions as well, so it was very interactive.

 Then I gave her a little greeting card that said “YASSSS QUEEN” on the front and said, “I was afraid of word vomit if I tried to speak to you in real life, so here’s a card.” Lol and she said, “awww, you don’t have to worry about that. Thanks!” But her handler took it, so I hope she saw it, lol.

 Few other tid-bits:

Since Sam and Cait started on opposite sides of the room, when they both made it to the middle of the room, the first thing they did was turn around to each other, grinned and said, “oh haaii!” to each other. That was cute.

 And at the very end of the night, as they were leaving, Sam took Cait in for a side hug/pose and I was caught off guard and was still afraid of the photo Gestapo so I didn’t catch it! :((

This was all I caught, right before the hug.

Anyway, and that was it… off they went. And then I died. :D