#and then i realized it's eight fucking episodes long -_-

[miraculouslumination]

Can we please bring back 20 episode seasons again. Please. Can we please NOT make 5-10 episodes a season the new "MAXIMUM". I am not asking by the way despite my usage of please. I am demanding but through gritted teeth, politely.

[diseaseriddencube]

alastor nearly gets killed????? and is missing...after a battle with the Vs??? and is trying to loophole his 'deal'?? woahg :0

[kabr0ztrousers]

Similar to the portal one. But reader is a chubby witch in a house full of diffret species (not picky on the type). Anything with a big size differance is chefs kiss though. She has a crush on one of them. So she puts a portal spell on a toy and leaves it out for him to find. And he does but what she didn't realize was how many of her roommates share there toys. And now she has live with the consequences or for some the reward

You can even do a continuation were they figure out what she did and they give up on the toy and just start to use her instead

Kabr0z Writes episode 68: Toying Around

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: infidelity via deception; dubcon via deception; public sex; free use; autocunnilingus

A/N: Ah, my two great loves, portals and free use... Whatever would I do without them.

########################################

You finally figured it out. You'd had the hots for Andy for months, ever since he moved in with you. You were already living with Debbie, and the pansexual lupines Paul and Brian couldn't object to the new housemate; they were fucking practically every night, and weren't quiet about it. The only problem is, Andy only had eyes for Debbie, and you weren't about to fuck up the flat dynamic by stealing her man.

But what a man he was, the very ideal of a minotaur. Eight feet tall and as wide as a doorframe, 150 kilos of pure muscle and sinew, with biceps thicker than your plush thighs. The time you walked in on him in the shower (totally by accident, you understand) sealed it. He was equally huge down below, a cock as long and thick as your forearm. You got wet just thinking about burying that flared monster in your cunt. You just had to get around his obnoxious fidelity first.

That's where a little bit of magic comes in.

Magical study can be understood as ten domains, or spheres, interacting with one another. Forces is the flashy one for tossing fireballs, entropy is the scary one for making things degrade, life is the one for healing wounds or changing your shape, if you can think of it, there's a sphere that does it. Your speciality was a little more esoteric: correspondence. Correspondence is the magic of spatial relationship, specifically the realisation that distances are an illusion and can be subverted with a little know-how and just enough gumption. Theoretically, correspondence lets you teleport too, through a process of literally not being here and being somewhere else, but when that goes wrong it's not uncommon to accidentally become part of a building or worse, so prudent mages only pull that trick in times of direst need.

This trick was almost too easy. You'd get his usual cocksleeve, take out the insert, and link the end of it with the gusset of a pair of knickers. Barely a party trick, it's the same mechanism for pulling a rabbit out of a hat, though with any luck there wouldn't be any pulling out happening. A few magic words, and one exsanguinated mouse later, a hazy film lay on the top of the toy you'd pilfered. You pushed a finger into it, and watched it come out of the inside of the underwear you'd used for the other side. Pulling on the panties you tested again.

Yep, you could feel your finger stroking your pussy lips, a hint of wetness coming away on your hand as you did. You'd always been curious of this. You brought the tube to your face, smelling the warmth of your cunt through the portal as you licked yourself through it. Damn, you taste good. Too good, and god does it feel right. Your tongue explored your nethers, running up and down your slit, lapping up your wetness and circling your clit. Either you're a natural at this, or you're getting far too turned on by the idea of being able to really fuck yourself.

It wasn't easy to stop, but you knew if you let yourself cum like that you'd be there all day, and you wanted to be out of the house before Andy came home from work. He was always pent up when he came back, and modifying his normal cocksleeve into your enchanted pocket pussy was a simple job. He probably wouldn't notice, at least not until he was already balls deep into you. By that point, he might not care.

Replacing the toy, you slipped on a sundress and made your way to the park. You weren't going to risk being caught in the flat while he wanked off with you. There's a quiet spot under a weeping willow, right near the river, about a mile into the park where nobody goes, not even the dog walkers.

That's where you sat, channeling the power of the river and the forest, recharging as you waited. Getting fucked here would probably help, if anything, sex carries powerful magic. It's just a pity he wouldn't be here in person.

Something touched you. A gentle fingertip slid some lube over your pussy, coating your lips in a cold, slick film. The finger pushed in, rubbing the lubricant around the inside of you, feeling the texture of your inner walls. It pulled out. Moments passed. Seconds felt like hours as your mind raced. Of course he'd figure it out, he'd have to lube his toy before fucking it otherwise that huge bitch-breaker would rip it in half!

Or not. The flare pressed against your hole briefly, before forcing its way in. You groped a tit as it pushed in, filling you slowly before he started fucking himself properly. He was going fast, faster than anyone could fuck. Every push made you yelp, your eyes rolling back as it hammered into you, getting deeper and deeper with every push. Your yelps and whines reached a crescendo, the hammering cock driving you to orgasm hard against it.

You felt yourself tensing, gripping the flared beast inside you as your toes curled and your body shook. The force of the orgasm almost made you fall backwards, your arms catching you as your back arched, your hips pushing up against a man who wasn't there as you groaned.

He wasn't far behind. The flare flattened against the entrance of your womb as he pulsed into you, delivering his cum right where you wanted it. The thick liquid steamed through your cervix in a river, filling you in an instant before threatening to spray out around the sides. He held the toy down, keeping you hilted as he pumped you to bursting.

At last, the flare started to recede, he pulled out. You felt the still too wide tip pulling on your entrance before popping out in a fountain of thick cum. You lay, panting on the sparse grass, shielded from passers-by by the fronds of the willows above. It's another simple spell to prevent pregnancy, a handful of river water mixed with a little ash and daubed over your belly neutralises the semen filling your womb. Life magic wasn't your speciality, but a witch knows the rudiments.

You picked yourself up and started to walk back to the main park. It's about a 20-minute walk at a decent clip, but you were taking your time.

Something touched your pussy again. Not a finger, not Andy's flared member, something else. Thinner, shorter, already leaking fluid into you. Have you been borrowed?

The new cock was slower, fucking you like it was savoring the experience. The minotaur cum lubricating him as he slid in and out.

You looked for somewhere to duck out of the way, slipping into a bush as the cock slowly fucked you. It wasn't as big as the minotaur, but the languid pace made you squirm.

It sped up for a few pumps, making you arch yourself again, before slowing down. The cock twitching and throbbing in your cunt, it hadn't knotted you yet, the slippery precum adding to the mix of fluids dripping out of you.

Over and over, the slow stroking punctuated by fast thrusts, each time drawing moans and gasps from you as the canid cock edged inside you; each time brought you to the very edge, before slowing back down and leaving you panting.

The fast fucking started again, this time you clenched yourself against it, feeling the thickness of the cock pressing back at you. You created your peak, tears welling in your eyes as you half-moaned, half-sobbed your release. The knot filled you up, and another man's cum started to fill you.

Walking is hard when you have a tennis ball sized knot plugging you up, harder still when that knot is moving and thrusting with a mind of its own.

You staggered home, the knot staying hard, holding the rest of his cock in you as it twitched and pumped more and more into you. Lupine cum isn't as thick as a minotaur's, but there's just so much of it; you could feel it dripping down your legs, the unmistakable smell of fresh cum filling your nostrils. You were just glad you didn't need to take the bus.

You finally got home, the knot still in you, and slid into your room, waiting for it to pull out.

A knock on the door

"Hey" It's Andy "I know what you did. I gave you to Paul, he's loaded Brian up with boner pills, so don't expect to be getting out any time soon. Next time you want to hook up, just ask, OK?"

Well, looks like you're in for the long haul.

Worth it.

######################################

Not sure how I did on that. The minotaur fucking was fun, but was the lupine as good, or did it overstay its welcome? Maybe I'm being over critical because it's my work.

Either way, if you have a request for any scenarios you want to see or kinks you want me to explore, please do drop an ask! If you're not sure if it oversteps any boundaries, send it and I'll make a decision. The worst I'll say is no

[gendertrickster]

i realized recently that vriska's left eye looking the way it is was what felt like an intentionally hidden detail throughout act 5 act 1, like it was a secret she kept deliberately. every appearance of her sans two in hivebent has her left eye obscured, by lack or otherwise

aside from times shown after she loses her eye, where she wears an eyepatch lens, she is ALWAYS shown wearing the augmented lens — a tool that specifically grants her more agency through letting her forcibly access information otherwise kept from her — and part of me can't help but wonder if it was an intentional mystery kept on hussie's part as to what vriska's eye actually looked like under there. there was never any indication that her left eye actually looked like the shape shown on the augmented lens, and it could easily be assumed, based on every troll aside from sollux, that her left eye looked the same as her right. this feels like a very, very defining thing for vriska in particular to hide. and it absolutely bears mentioning that the first time we ever see what her left eye looks like (one of TWO times in hivebent) is the same beat where it's revealed she was a PROSPIT dreamer

(the other time is [s] make her pay, which is the same idea)

and i feel like there's a couple different directions that hussie could've been wanting to take with this. one of them would be insane, because while it's basically entirely improbable in practice it would extend its way into fucking beyond canon if it were true:

it could, at one point in development, have been the case that vriska manifested her eye looking like that, given that we only see her dream self with this left eye in hivebent. at this point it was already established that dream selves can shape their forms manually to a degree (a la jade), and otherwise draw from the subconscious ideal one holds themself to (a la terezi). and given vriska's reliance on her vision eightfold (which to this point had been suggested as being solely possible through the vector of technological augment8ion) and everything that reliance represents in terms of her personal agency (and lack thereof), it would make sense if this were the reason her eye looked like that as her dream self but not her real self until later when she ascended to the god tiers and those two selves became one

this whole idea is already kind of dubious though, because we do see how vriska (allegedly) looked as a child, and she does also have the seven pupils, since there's also no reason to assume her eye didn't always look like that

but if that were true, why would it be kept such a secret in hivebent, especially by vriska herself?

(i can think of a couple reasons, actually.)

as i mentioned before, even now this "manifested vision eightfold" direction would still hold narrative weight, considering developments around vriska in beyond canon:

in chapter 2 of homestuck^2, vriska's new design is cemented, adding an eyepatch with an infinity drawn on it in her own cerulean swill blood over the wound she sustained just past the edge of canon

she wears this eyepatch, with its unique iconography, for eight years in the plot point, with one very notable exception:

chapter 4, where she is belittled into an episode of age regression, sporting again her glasses (which she had long stopped needing), her redoubled total lack of mental agency (which she really hoped would have been easier to leave behind than this), and her augmented lens (which, as established, she used as a crutch).

the parallel drawn all across here, then, is that her augmented lens is to her "vision eightfold"/seven-pupiled eye as her infinity eyepatch would be to her left eye once she could leave the point behind. and depending on how you interpret the existence of vriska's left eye — whether it was always there and caused her active dysphoria (as a mark associated with cerulean bloods, a textually-stated male-dominated caste) and dysmorphia (it made her look too alien, unlike almost all of her co-players), or whether she manifested it as something she had to have to maintain personal agency despite further alienating her appearance from that of her peers and of her preferred ideal for herself (thus also causing her the same dysphoria/dysmorphia) — that can mean different things.

the point as to whether vriska manifested it into existence is only sort of moot, though — homestuck is a story completely steeped in retroactive continuity, where once it's made clear that something is true, it was always true, and things like that can be manifested into truth by its own characters (a la jake). the state of vriska's left eye was a mystery until it was shown how it actually looked, and from then on it was always true, and was thus also true for aranea. but whether it was always true for aranea first banked on it being true for vriska, due to the trickle-down characterization homestuck is built on. this choice was made before aranea even existed as a character, after all.

and because of the nature of these manifestations, that truth had to come from various parts of vriska's arc in hivebent, like what the vision eightfold meant to her as the one thing she could use to get an edge in a world completely stacked against her. and who else would ever be able to metanarratively manifest such a relevant and contentious part of her own appearance (let alone that of an eye, the vector by which light is received) than vriska serket?

sure enough, after years of painful, traumatic work, she manifests it a second time.

vision infinityfold. unbounded freedom.

[adhdevankinard]

What a baffling choice by the 911 writers not to have Eddie be confronted by the consequences of his words. It's basic storytelling that characters need to be confronted by the consequences of their words or choices or actions. Whether those consequences are positive, negative, neutral is up to the writer and where they want the story and character to go. Soap operas thrive on the juicy impact of characters’ words and actions.

Consequences in stories do not necessarily mean punishments or apologies. I don’t want perfect characters. I don't want moral scruples. I want consequences that the characters have to confront.

It's funny – I made a post earlier yesterday before the episode about the show Interview with the Vampire. If you have not seen that show, it is THE toxic relationship show. I think it is genuinely the best-written show on TV right now. I love it because it is about power dynamics. The relationships in the show, romantic or otherwise, are messy, complicated, toxic, abusive. But the show is about exploring the consequences of actions. There was never a point when watching that show that I saw a character emotionally hurt another character and think that there wouldn’t be consequences to that. (Again, not punishments, not apologies, consequences.)

911 is 100% NOT that kind of show, though. I'm not expecting it to be. I’m not expecting the show to spend eight episodes exploring complicated relationship dynamics. This is the one-and-done show. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t need consequences. Isn’t that what Bobby’s death was about? Every story needs impact. These characters can only go so long before they need to be confronted with consequences, or else they are just stagnant, uninteresting carbon copies pretending to be characters.

It’s basic storytelling. Not having your character be confronted at all is a failure of storytelling. If Eddie continued this cycle of not apologizing, not being impacted by his words, it might be an interesting storyline if I thought the show was actually going to lead to a confrontation about it.

If the writers want the audience (I’m talking General Audience) to continue to see Buck and Eddie as good friends, Eddie needs to confront how he has treated Buck. Or else they’re going to come to a point where they realize they haven’t given Eddie anything to do to grow and evolve his character, and the friendship is going to start feeling completely unearned. There needs to be a consequence for Eddie to grow and learn from to be a better friend to Buck. You know, like how he confronted his actions with Kim, oh, wait…

I could very well be wrong, but with this show’s track record, the conversation in the kitchen will not lead to any further consequences. From what I gathered, Eddie bringing in Chris and Pepa was his way of apologizing, of telling Buck that he made a mistake and wanted to fix it. But that doesn’t actually do anything with Eddie’s character, does it? Because he didn't actually hear how he hurt Buck and decide if he was going to make up for it or not. If the writers wanted this argument to be over within one episode, Eddie could have brought in Chris and Pepa and then had the heart-to-heart with Buck at the end, not Pepa. Because Pepa is not the one in this friendship. She was not the one in that kitchen saying those words.

So, TLDR, ig: I don’t want perfect characters. I love when complicated, messy relationship dynamics, romantic or not, are explored. But what makes a good, interesting story, at the most basic fucking level, is having the characters confront how their words and actions have created consequences, whether they be negative or positive, whether they decide to grow or not. By completely skipping over Eddie even talking to Buck at all about how his words hurt him, by bringing in Chris and Pepa as the only means of confrontation, Eddie is just… stagnant.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

ok yall see this dude right here?

I didn’t give a f*ck abt him before episode eight, but now…

I want to ruin him.

I wanna watch him realize he’s in love- not just lust; love- with a demon and have a losing battle with his feelings, eventually coming to the conclusion that he’s doomed. He’s been bewitched, and there’s no cure for it. Watch as he is gradually consumed by hellfire and secretly loves how much it burns. For the first time in eternity, Adam is just about ready to surrender control.

Oh and don’t even get me started on Lute’s roll in this story,

imagine her being just as distraught about the ordeal because she’s been by Adam’s side for lord knows how long, and now after all those years, she’s about to lose him to a fucking sinner.

Yeah, surely Adam’s had plenty of flings before, and perhaps a few of them may have been with demons and sinners. But she could be fine with those, because none of them really mattered… until that wretched little imp came along and ruined everything. She starts to understand how Adam must have felt when Lucifer stole his first wife…

And meanwhile the reader’s totally oblivious to all of it.

[thekatebridgerton]

Which character would sleep with a Bridgeton just to get back at their toxic ex

So, following last week's poll in a new episode of on a scale of one to eight here's the breakdown that I promised:

#1) Kate: (32.5%) I think this one requires very little discussion, because Kate does carry enough spite in her to want to fuck over an ex and fuck with Anthony in one fell swoop when she's pissed off. She's the OG hell hath no fury kind of woman and we can all respect that. Although I feel like Kate is THAT Wattpad heroine who fucked the worst manwhore she could find ( Anthony) to get back at her toxic ex boyfriend only to find out that Anthony being Anthony has always been pathetically inlove with her and that's why he's been a pain in the butt ever since he met her. But oh well when has Kate ever thought about the consequences of her actions?

#2) Simon: (24.8%) I feel like we're misunderstanding Simon, in the sense that yes he would 100% sleep with a Bridgeton to get back at his cheating ex gf. But he wouldn't exactly be picky. For him revenge would be the most important thing, also his ex was most likely picked by his dad, so he would want to get back at his father too. I feel like he's the type who walked into a Bridgerton party after finding out his ex was cheating on him, he picked the nearest hot person in the vicinity which happened to be Daphne and literally led with " I wanna make my ex regret all her life choices, you wanna go have sex in my dad's Bentley?" And a very confused Daphne agreed to it because no horny person ever says no to an angry Simon?. But to give Simon credit, he wouldn't regret it and would most likely be happy with his choices. Which is more than I can say for the next person on the list

#3) Penelope: (13.4%) : she would not only sleep with a Bridgeton to screw over a toxic ex, she would splash the fact all over the news to drive the point home. Her toxic ex probably gaslighted her into staying in the relationship longer than she should have by blaming all their relationship problems on Colin. When Penelope finally woke up and realize her boyfriend was in fact an ass and that she deserved better than a guy who kept putting down her self esteem to make himself feel superior, well yeah, she went directly to Colin and fucked him in her ex's apartment. Unlike Simon and Kate, she does regret using Colin as a convenient tool for revenge ( mostly because Colin thought their friendship meant more to her than a quick 'F you' to her ex, and now he's mad at her ) and she probably ends up apologizing for it after having a long conversation ( and makeup sex) with Colin

#4) Michael: (12.1%): I was really surprised that you guys thought Michael was less likely than Penelope to sleep with a Bridgeton to get back at an ex, because let's face it, Michael is more promiscuous and has a more laid back personality. BUT he IS loyal to a fault and for all his Merry rake ways, Michael doesn't get into relationships without being serious about it. So I think that he would break up with his toxic ex, he would be very sad about it, he would try to heal and then Francesca aka the sexiest Bridgerton he knows would show up and propose sleeping together at his ex birthday party to make his ex regret being a toxic ahole. I think this is the only way I see Michael doing it, if it was Francesca's idea, mostly because Michael's idea of revenge against an ex would be to warn the next guy and possibly booby trap their apartment

#5) Gareth (7%): entering the round of spouses who are least likely to resort to this to get back at their toxic ex, we got Gareth, I feel like he would get back at his ex in another way and he also respects Hyacinth too much to sleep with her without a whole plan in mind on how to propose. I mean he's the type who would ask Hyacinth for help in planning the painful downfall of his ex complete with social shunning and public shaming, but he wouldn't sleep with Hyacinth for it. He would sleep with her because he wants to and he would let her know that. Which I can respect.

#6) Lucy (5.7%): with her I think that she is so pragmatic, she would indeed use Gregory and her schemes, but she wouldn't get into bed with him for it. Her ex probably dated her to get closer to Hermione while badmouthing her behind her back and Lucy got sick of it, so she most likely bid her time to make her breakup announcement as publicly humiliating as possible, getting Gregory to befriend her ex in order to glean out all his secrets so she can list them out during a public break up scene. Because Lucy wouldn't care about destroying her ex's life more than she would care about making sure this person is looking at her right in the eye as she makes him feel as small as an ant, so he knows crossing her was a very bad move. Gregory would be a willing helper in this. He'd also ask her out eventually.

#7) Phillip (2.5%): he's a little less of a virgin than Sophie, true, but I don't think sleeping with anyone let alone a hotter-than-the-sun Bridgerton would ever cross his mind after finishing things off with a toxic ex. Especially because with his personality it was probably an abusive relationship that needed a major intervention to rescue him. ( Phillip just looks like the kind of abuse survivor who ends up attracting narcissistic sociopaths, but that's a conversation for another day) this guy is only looking forward to therapy and recovery after his ordeal with his ex and nothing more. But on the bright side he would probably meet Eloise in the waiting room of his therapist office and hit things off with her eventually.

#8) Sophie (1.9%): She's a little more mentally stable than Phillip and has more self respect but she's also the type who would swear off sex and dating after breaking things off with a toxic ex. She'd see all the red flags they are and steer clear of hooking up with any Bridgerton specially Benedict, no matter how much he offers to be her rebound. Sophie's ex was most likely a finance bro who shot down her career aspirations and wanted her to be a stay at home girlfriend. And while Sophie has no problem with the stay at home lifestyle, she does object to being patronized and financially controlled so she started looking for a way to leave. On the bright side Benedict was the one who helped her get in touch with a women's advocacy group who helped her get out of that toxic situation and she's grateful for it. Not enough to hook up with him, but enough to not slam the door on his face if he shows up with flowers.

So that's today's episode, what do you guys think? This is the first time I've done one of these based on voting so I hope it fits your thoughts on the characters.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 31/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN (interlude) ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY (interlude) TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT TWENTYNINE THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTYONE

                “Your dad’s name isn’t Charles?”

                “No. It’s like… it’s Italian actually. Giacomo. Got mangled by everyone except my grandparents obviously, so everyone just calls him Chuck.”

                “Huh. Giacomo Seresin. That’s a very Italian sounding name.”

                “Did you think I was learning Italian just for you?” Jake asks, smirking and licking his lips and Bradley flushes.

                “I mean…”

                “I figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to learn about my heritage and culture. But you were also a consideration. Just incase we ever crossed paths again.”

                “Just in case. Lucky me I guess.”

                “Mmm. Yeah.”

…            …            …

                He knows it’s only a matter of time before he gets the call. The episode aired three weeks ago now and he’s starting to feel a little worried about Ice’s mentality acuity. Maybe he’s just waiting, making Bradley sweat. He wouldn’t put it past him, has thought about what he’s going to say, thought more about why he hasn’t told him. Talked about it with Silvia, dealt with her scolding tone as she talked about family. Okay.

                He’ll be ready when Ice calls.

…            …            …

                “Fuck. We just need to get directions. Is everyone being deliberately obtuse because they think we’re tourists?”

                Jake would argue that right now that’s exactly what they are, but he also has an idea. Leo is probably awake right now, paying attention to the time difference doesn’t really make much sense when Leo’s hours are all over the place. Jake’s Italian is passable now, pretty fluent from talking with Leo when he’s in the right head space, but more importantly when Leo video calls Leandro and Silvia Jake tries very hard to solely speak Italian; he hopes it helps them like him. They seem to like him, but they’ve never met in person.

                Yet.

                So while his Italian is passable, he’s still very clearly American, walking around talking English with a group of four of them. He’s pretty sure they’re being given the run around and he’s over it; they have time, but it’s not unlimited. He can’t help the wide grin when Leo picks up after only two rings.

                “Hey babe.”

                Phoenix makes a gagging motion and Jake flicks her a middle finger, but he can’t help grinning. They’ve been deployed together a few times now and he’d go so far to say they’re friends. At different times she reminds him of any of his sisters and it makes him homesick and lessens it all at once.

                “Hey. To what do I owe the pleasure of a long-distance phone call?”

                “Well. Uh. We’re trying to find that little restaurant you told me about, but we cannot get directions out of anyone.”

                “You’re trying to visit Gallo’s?” Leo asks, and his voice has gone high pitched and Jake wonders if he should have maybe asked if this was okay.

                “Yeah. I mean, I’ve got some limited shore leave, and… I know it’s not ideal. But I’d like to meet them. If that’s okay?” Jake asks, and he’s slipped into Italian, because he doesn’t need the other knowing he’s maybe fucked up. “No one will give us directions though… And it’s like it’s been taken off all maps. Does it still exist?”

                “Oh. Yeah. Uh. Definitely still exists. What street are you on?”

                Jake walks up to the corner and peers up at the side of the building where the street name is attached to the side of a building. He reads it out and Leo lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

                “Wow. I wish I was there with you, you know. Visiting the scene of the crime as it were…”

                “What crime?”

                “When you stole my heart…”

                “Wow. That’s cheesy.”

                “Yeah. I thought so. Blame it on my Italian and French training…”

                “I like your Italian and French training…”

                “I know you do.”

                Then Leo is giving him directions and Jake is walking, waving a hand for the others to follow him. There’s lots of traffic and people to dodge, but Leo is clearly very familiar with the area still, describing what Jake should be able to see, colored awnings and street names as he crosses them, cars honking angrily as the others scurry to keep close. Then he’s there, standing in front of a glass door with Gallo’s written on it in gold. There is also a woman standing just inside and she’s scowling at him. He tries to smile winningly but it simply makes her scowl more and he wonders how they treat customers.

                “Uh. Okay. Is there a woman standing near the door?”

                “Yes… she’s looking at me and doesn’t look pleased.”

                Leo laughs.

                “Normally Silvia is on the front, but it’s early. Pass Maria the phone.”

                Jake does, even as she looks confused and takes it from him. He can vaguely hear Bradley talking Italian and she’s answering back, their pace of conversation far too fast for Jake to follow. Then her eyes are lighting up and she looks at Jake more closely, eyes suddenly shrewd as she takes him in, but she’s starting to smile, tone of voice changing to something clearly happier.

                “Leandro! Silvia!”

                Those names he recognizes at least, and then there are more people, and a lot more noise and he can feel Phoenix, Javy and Fritz all pressing in close, likely feeling overwhelmed. Jake can at least tell the yelling is happy excitement and he hopes he’s the cause. Then they’re there, Leandro and Silvia, looking at him, a little shocked but it quickly turns to wide smiles.

                “Jake!”

                “That would be me…”

                Then he’s being swept into a warm hard hug, air squeezed out of him by surprisingly strong arms. Then he’s doing introductions, everyone being hugged and welcomed. Leandro’s English is surprisingly flawless, which Jake finds surprising. Then there’s an order to close the restaurant and he shakes his head, but Silvia is nodding, ignoring him, telling the other woman to call the family and oh shit… he’s starting to really wish Leo was here, is glad he has Javy, Phoenix and Fritz at least.

                It becomes a party, and he’s really fucking glad he has the level of Italian he has now. Leo’s family is huge, and there are aunts and uncles, cousins, grandmothers who pat his cheek and call him Leo’s paramor which makes him blush for stupid reasons. They’ve been together for three years. There are enough people there that speak English that he’s sure that none of his friends feel left out. Then the food starts coming; they’re treated to a wide variety of different foods, Leandro watching him with the same level of intensity that Leo has, and Jake can see where he gets it from now.

                There isn’t any sauce and he’s honestly not brave enough to even ask, simply eats and enjoys it. Better than getting stabbed by Leo’s mentor. Father. The closest thing he has to a father now anyway and he catches him smiling in Jake’s general direction a few times, so he’ll take that as a reassuring sign. Then there’s dessert and they’re all groaning but also unable to say no to second helpings. They try and pay at the end and are waved off, given kisses and Sylvia presses extra food into their hands and Phoenix slaps a hand over his mouth when he politely tries to decline.

                When he finally chances a look at his phone he sees a stream of heart emojis from Leo.

…            …            …

                “Why didn’t you tell me about your boyfriend?”

                No hello. No name. Just out the gate.

                “Shit.”

                Ice doesn’t say anything, lets the silence stretch between them. He will wait Bradley out for hours if he has to. Has done before and he also knows Ice is hurt. That hadn’t been his intention and he’s going to have to make this right somehow.

                “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out that way. I…” he pauses, wonders if he should apologize again. “I… I haven’t told him about you and Mav.”

                “What about us?”

                “Well, that you’re Uncle Tom and he’s…”

                “He’s Maverick.”

                “Yeah.”

                “I would have thought, assumed, that you were simply keeping these two areas of your life distinct and separate. However the fact that Slider not only knows who it is, but has met him several times… tells me you’re not.”

                Fuck. That it’s that which Ice sounds the most upset and hurt about makes him feel worse. This has kind of backfired, because he’s let it drag out far too long and that’s all on him.

                “No. I’m not. I’m… Originally I didn’t want to freak him out with your rank. And Mav’s…” Ice snorts at that, because there’s no way to accurately summarize Mav’s Mav-ness.

                “Is that the only reason?”

                “I… no,” Bradley admits quietly, guiltily. Because Silvia had pointed it out to him, that maybe he was doing it to hurt them, like they had hurt him. Even though it’s been fifteen years and Ice never left him alone. He’d denied it initially when she’d brought it up, but it had made him think. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I think I wanted to. I really am sorry.”

                “Hmm.”

                “Uncle Tom…”

                “Well I can’t say I’m not hurt. Did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you?”

                “No! Of course not! But also, uh, I wanted to tell Jake about you, and you about Jake, but…”

                “Ah. So we are your dirty little secret.”

                “No! Well…”

                “Hmm. So… Jake. Would that be… Lieutenant Jake Seresin?”

                “Did you just look him up? Ice!”

                “I have a mind like a steel trap. I remember all sorts of names. Now, I have a favor to ask…”

                “Of course. Anything.”

                “Good. I hope you mean that.”

                “You know I do.”

                “Will you listen to him? Mav. When he calls you.”

                “Why should I?” Bradley asks, although he knows that he will. If only to now assuage his curiosity.

                “He has something to tell you. And I think it’s important that you hear it.”

                Bradley freezes at that, his mind flooded with worst-case scenarios.

                “Is he okay?”

                “He’s fine… just,” Ice lets out a long tired sounding breath and Bradley frowns, wonders if Ice is okay. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to you for fifteen years. And it occurred to me that you might not want to hear what he has to say. So… when he calls, please hear him out.”

                “If he calls you mean.”

                “No. It’ll be when.”

THIRTYTWO

[pendragonsclotpole]

I need to preface this post with the fact that I’ve been aware of Supernatural for as long as I’ve known what the terms fanfiction and fandom mean. It’s one of those pop culture moments that’s existed on the periphery of my mind as something really beloved and bemoaned about by people on the internet, but it’s never been something I really cared about outside of some iconic memes.

For the past four days, I’ve been watching Supernatural non-stop in my free time. I think I sat through eight episodes straight on one of those days, and I just have to say, the show is phenomenal.

I don’t know where to start, I could make a dozen of these posts about various points throughout the first two seasons and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’ve now taken a break at episode one of season three, because now that it’s a weekday I have work and can’t dedicate the time I could on the weekend.

First, Jared Padalecki’s acting is so beautiful and poignant and emotional. He really makes Sam Winchester into the bleeding heart of the whole show, and the entire time he’s on screen I worry about Sam. His portrayal of Sam’s heartbreak and desperation at Dean’s impending death after the car crash, as well as Sam’s horror at the reveal of what John told Dean before dying held a tragic desperation and denial that really embodied what the character represented in the first two seasons. Even as a hunter and with his special abilities, Sam felt like a quasi self-insert for the audience. I don’t mean that in a bad or overly tropey way, but in the way that he felt robbed of a proper childhood in favor of his father’s crusade. Sam is the angry, indignant younger sibling who never bore the brunt of responsibility like the older sibling did and it shows. In some ways, it makes him more entitled—I don’t mean that Sam does not have the right to be angry with John Winchester. He does. Fuck John Winchester. I mean entitled in the unintentional, coincidental way that your little brother or sister always demands the things you never had or rebels against the authority of the parent without ever dealing with the consequences you did as the older sibling. It reveals the veneer of freedom he had and the protection he received by virtue of his place in the Winchester Family. For me, it made him unbearably real, and this feeling of realness was made worse by the genuine naivety and innocence he keeps even as he continually gets screwed over by the demons. There’s a steadfast belief in the goodness of others within Sam that often conflicts with the sense of goodness he believes he lacks.

Sam trusts so easily, but he understands people in ways that should be antithetical to his upbringing. It took me forever to reconcile why he seemed so familiar, until I realized that Sam Winchester, for all that he was one of John Winchester’s son, had received the unconditional love of an older sibling for his entire childhood.

I don’t mean the perfect, kind, healthy love that often exists between fictional siblings. Too often I’ve watched media that makes me wonder how siblings like that even exist, or conversely, made me glad my siblings weren’t so fucked up.

I mean the kind of platonic love that exists between siblings living in the liminal space of love and hate thanks to the single fucked up connection that draws them back together continuously out of some sense of duty or commiseration or the need to be understood.

I mean the kind of love between siblings that would wither away when in a perfect world that does not stake their survival on their codependence of each other, but that in an imperfect and real world is equated to familiarity. Sam and Dean against the world—against John Winchester.

Out of all of the episodes I’ve watched in the last day and a half, perhaps the one that struck me most was episode 20, Season 2. What is and What Should Never Be. Not only was the title a bit of emotional whiplash—the juxtaposition of Should and Never lending a finality or a sense of wrongness that can’t be replicated by the words “Could Never—but we see Dean and Sam in a world where their one connection, hunting, has completely vanished and at a high cost to all the people they’ve saved, but mostly to Sam and Dean themselves. They’re connection as ride or die brothers is gone, replaced by an ostensibly better, healthier, more normal future liberated from the expectations of the rest of the world.

Without the death of Mary Winchester, Dean and Sam are no longer Dean and Sam. They’re just two people, connected by the two people that raised them, and likely to drift apart after that connection dies—frayed ends of a tapestry pulling apart and unraveling. Dean gains a mom and a normal life, but metaphorically loses a brother and a sense of purpose. Who is Dean Winchester if he’s not a hunter and Sam’s brother? And the sad thing is, neither of these are traits Dean ever chose. They are conditions foisted upon him, perhaps not intentionally, such as in the case of Sam, but ultimately placed on his soul until they tethered themselves to the very core of what being Dean Winchester is supposed to mean. The end of the episode, and Dean’s choice to return to the real world, regardless of Sam waking him up, is Dean fully giving up his dream in order to save Sam and be a hunter. The fallacy of the episode is in the choice Dean makes, which the more I think about it, feels less like a choice and more of an inevitability but one compounded by Dean’s readiness and willingness to go with it.

This is where I get to the crux of my surprise with these first early seasons of Supernatural: Dean Motherfucking Winchester.

I don’t know what I was expecting from early seasons of Supernatural, especially with the context of the later seasons. Maybe an overly cheesy, early 2000s ode to roadtrip Americana with a self-reverential take on the classic gun slinging frontiersman of the Wild West and bad supernatural CGI. Not to say it isn’t that (shout out to Sam’s comment on Dean’s particular brand of butch), but what surprised me was how real the connection between the characters was manifested on screen and how much good will the show built up in the audience. There came a point where I sided with Dean so much in the events of the show that I felt like I was riding shotgun in the impala. I saw it with every compliant “yes, sir” he gave to John, with every teasing comment he threw at Sam, and with every act of selflessness he exhibited by protecting other people. This isn’t to say that Dean is perfect. Sometimes he doesn’t take things seriously enough, or he’s willing to sacrifice people for some misguided greater good, or he’s obsessed with saving Sam even when he wouldn’t be if it were anyone else, but Dean has a conviction so many people lack. He has the capacity to love at a great cost to himself, either because he believes himself unworthy of being loved or because he’s not used to anything else.

Jensen Ackles does such a good job at this portrayal and with such a different technique than Jared Padalecki. Ackles embodies the desperate need for self-assuredness that Dean breathes, as well as the genuine fear he has of being seen. I love laughing with Dean as much as I love screaming at him for how stupid he’s being. If Sam is the self-insert, then Dean is the tragic hero, although that comparison feels like a poor facsimile for what Dean Winchester truly is because I don’t particularly feel an overwhelming sense of pity at his state or at his hinted downfall with that demon deal. If anything, I feel a sense of indignation mixed with understanding and frustration that Dean can’t catch a break but at the end of it all, is just how he prefers it.

It shouldn’t be a shock to admit that even without knowing what happens from seasons 3 to 15, I know how Supernatural ends. Just thinking about the ending makes me wonder if I should even continue it past season 5, but that’s a decision for another time.

For now, there’s something unbearably tragic in seeing Dean Winchester so close to a chance of a normal life and apple pie happiness (something he really seems to desire no matter how much he denies it) and then having to give it up, not just because it’s not real, but because he believes it should never be real.

Dean Winchester deserves better.

[tobiasdrake]

Ranma 1/2 episode 3. I can't be the only person who somehow, despite not thinking about this series seriously in a long time, still hears "YAPPAPPA YAPPAPPA II SHAN TEN hashagu koi wa ike no koi" in their head when starting up the reboot series.

Where did you come from? I thought I forgot you.

By contrast, the new OP hasn't grown on me as much. Can't imagine why. It couldn't be that I've heard the new one twice but heard the old one eight billion times over the course of three decades, such that any new music in its place is going to inherently sound like an imposter.

Nah, it's probably just that the song isn't good. That's a reasonable thing to conclude.

(In seriousness, new OP is fun.)

Uhhhhh, part 1 because I had a lot to say about Nabiki, my fave from back in the day who gets to be in the spotlight for the first time this episode.

Speaking of the OP, this is my favorite shot.

I don't know what it is exactly but every time I see this, there is a haunted look in Ranma's eyes. I don't think that's on purpose. I think he's just supposed to look like he's happily jogging.

But I see a thousand-yard stare on this boy. The look of a person who has seen things that can never be unseen.

Which.

Is fair.

For Ranma.

Rejected so hard. This is a misunderstanding but it's still hilarious how quickly Nabiki nopes the fuck out of this shit.

To be fair, she's seen the way Kuno treats the women he's interested in. If I were her, I would want no part of that.

Ironically enough, Nabiki/Kuno is IIRC the most popular ship for both of these characters. Though, given that being physically strong enough to beat the shit out of him at martial arts is such an important quality to Kuno, I'm not sure he and Nabiki are really compatible.

Makes perfect sense from Nabiki's perspective but honestly I'm pretty sure she's more likely to Black Widow him for his wealth than fall in love with him sincerely.

So begins Nabiki's career of being the absolute worst person in Ranma's life, in a cast that includes multiple people attempting to murder him. Nabiki is something far worse than a shonen rival. Worse than a romantic rival. Worse than a shonen rival who wants to surpass you at romancing your love interest.

She's a capitalist. And she has found a saleable product.

(My characters are always the absolute worst. Goddammit, Nabiki.)

There's something really interesting in Nabiki's reaction to that remark. Like. She gets back into gear pretty quickly after this moment.

But.

Just for a moment.

She had a visceral, kneejerk reaction of shock and disgust at the realization that Kuno was planning on pursuing Ranma and Akane at the same time.

Just for a moment, she had an emotional reaction strong enough to break her poker face.

I mean, she's still going to profit off it. She is a capitalist after all.

But it happened. That brief glimpse into the humanity underneath the cash register was there.

For those unaware of yen to dollar exchange rates, she's charging about $20 for Ranma's photos. Akane's are about $27. So we can actually quantify her feelings for Akane. She loves her sister exactly $7 more than a stranger she met a few days ago.

Don't take it personally. It's just business.

(I felt really gross saying that. Probably because it was really gross. In seriousness, Nabiki is an active participant in Akane's harassment, without Akane's knowledge.)

That said, she does still try to help this situation once she's done cashing in on violations of Ranma and Akane's privacy.

It doesn't take because Kuno aggressively refuses to learn the truth about the Pig-Tailed Girl throughout the series lest it compromise his delusions. But she does try. There seems like there's basically no reason for her to do this except to burst Kuno's bubble.

...except then she also does this when she realizes Kuno didn't get it.

She tried to burst Kuno's bubble and it didn't work so now she's making it worse instead. At this point, it's clear that Nabiki's just starting shit for funsies. She is the show's trickster. Her allegiances are to money and entertainment.

She was expecting a hilarious blowout the one way and when she didn't get it, she went a different route. Goddammit, Nabiki.

Of course, her troll antics eventually blow up in her face when they out her capitalist antics.

But she never really has to face any sort of consequences for it. Right when it seems like things are about to turn against her...

Ranma, rather than presenting a united front against their mutual abuser, decides to open his fucking mouth and insult Akane instead.

This is how capitalists win. They skate home with all the money and no comeuppance while their victims pick each apart.

[fandom-lover2]

Deep In The Woods, Something Lingers In The Trees

Chapter Eight - He Is Not Tarzan

Chapter Seven - Storm Clouds On The Horizon

Chapter Nine - Caged In

I flipped the page, relishing in the bought of cold air my fan brought as it spun to face me.

I was too damn stubborn for my own good, but I was mad at Caesar and therefore not opening those curtains to open the window no matter how hot it was.

Which meant the heat from the final days of summer sat heavy in my room, the AC struggling to keep up.

Outside, kids laughed as they biked down the street, happy. But not for long. Schools opened up next week, and varsities a couple days later.

I turned back a page, rereading what I’d just written. Pro and con lists for varsities out of State, different reasons why these boring courses might be entertaining, excuses as to why online courses weren’t for me.

I needed to get out there, to grow myself.

I’d been as trapped as he was in that attic, now was my turn to get out there and experience the world. Do the stupid college shit, make the regrettable choices, fuck up again and again until I learned something.

And mostly, get over him.

Was I being rash, considering it was only two days ago we fought? Probably. It had been at a moment when tensions were high for everyone, but it was an eye opener. I needed a change.

My dad had the money, I could pick any school and choose to board. I had good enough grades that most common majors were easy pickings, and the determination of an ox. This would be good for me.

I was shattered from my concentration by tires screeching and a metallic crash.

Car accidents were not rare, but on a street as quiet as this one, on a bright summer afternoon?

Whatever, not my problem. I was making a new life for myself.

A few moments later, another impact. I glanced over at my closed curtains.

“The hell?” I mumbled to myself as I stood up.

I paused, hands hovering over the hanging material. I really didn’t want to accidently see him, but if my mom got home and saw something had happened and I hadn’t gotten the tea for her, she’d be pissed.

Besides, it was a quick glance. I’d just avoid looking across and only down.

Pulling back the material just a smidge, my eyes immediately shot to his window.

He wasn’t there, but I cursed myself. So damn weak.

But something weird was happening. Evil neighbor Mr Huskiner was charging out his house, yelling. And his car was jerking between flooring it and slamming on breaks, all while in it’s tiny parking spot. It’d hit the two cars boxing it in already.

A hijacker who doesn’t know how to get out a parallel parking spot. That’s amusing.

Douglas made it to his car, still yelling at the dumbass as he reached in and yanked the person from his car.

Only, it wasn’t a random person, or even a hijacker. It was Charles.

It took me all of three seconds to realize he must’ve gotten out of the house during one of his episodes before I was flying out my room and down the stairs, in pajama shorts and a sports bra.

I threw the front door open, leaping from the porch and charging across the street as Douglas repeatedly jabbed his finger into Charles’ chest over and over again.

“Get away from him!” I hollered, reaching the men and shoving the pilot back.

He reacted quickly, back on us in a second and placing an iron grip on my shoulder.

And then, a flash of black and a rush of air knocked him down, onto and then over his car’s hood.

The blur’s speed knocked Charles and I back too, both of us landing on the grass.

Screeching, animal screeching. Familiar animal screeching chilled my blood and had my body locking in place.

Just over the hood of the car, I could see Caesar, slamming his fists over and over again down onto the man.

Oh my god, it was happening. Just like I had said all those years ago. Caesar was going ape, and he was going to kill someone.

A car skidded to a halt, distracting Caesar enough for Douglas to reach over and use the trash can lid as a weapon, whacking the ape across the head with it.

The pilot scrambled up and charged past us, aiming to rush back inside his house.

I couldn’t move, beside every instinct telling me to do the same, to run inside and lock the door and never, ever leave my house again. All I could do was sit there in fear, breathing heavily as Caesar rushed past Charles and I, reaching the front door before Douglas did and sending him tumbling back towards us.

The man stumbled out the floor beds and bolted, running down the street.

Above, Caesar took to the trees as he screamed, using the branches to swing after him. A crowd surrounded us, a man checking on Charles, who was dazed.

I could not take my eyes off the trees, even as Caesar went quiet and Douglas stopped running to look around.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I mean, inevitably it would. I had always known, even when I’d gotten comfortable with the creature. This was always going to be how it ended, because that’s the way these things went.

But he was still my friend, my brother.

Caesar leapt from the tree, crashing onto Douglas and he held him down by sitting on his chest.

I was too far away, my vision going between hyper focused and blurry, so I could not see what Caesar did, but the man’s screams had me covering my ears, closing my eyes and turning away.

Please, please make it stop. Make him stop. Make the screaming and the screeching stop. Make all of it stop.

“Caesar! Don’t!” Charles finally came back to reality, shrugging off the people that had been trying to check on him.

Douglas’ daughter came out the house, and cried out for her father. Beyond her, Caesar looked at us.

He seemed in just as much shock as everyone else, looking at the wounded man beneath him, then to us.

“Caesar!” Charles called again, and the ape began towards us.

Fight, flight, faint, freeze.

I had done faint, had frozen, was not stupid enough to try fight, and so I fled.

 Like Caesar was after my ass for blood next, I bolted across the street, Charles’ calls barely reaching me as I rushed into my house, locked the door and then locked myself in the bathroom.

I threw up, and then climbed into the bathtub and covered my ears, sobbing and clawing my way through a panic attack as I curled into the porcelain tub and rocked myself.

His screeches, they played over and over in my head. Outside, sirens wailed. First police, then ambulance, then animal control.

I heard Will, arguing with both the cops and animal control. I heard Caroline trying to get a handle on the situation.

I waited for the gunshot, the single bullet that would put an end to all the screaming, but it never came. Caesar screamed, and then the sirens went away.

---

My mother got home about a half hour later. Apparently the Facebook group had been going crazy and she’d rushed home from work.

I was rushed to the hospital, nothing wrong physically but fucked up psychologically. They were talking of admitting me long term, but I managed to convince them into a 24 hour watch.

By the time I left, after hours of trauma therapy and some anti-anxiety meds, it was past sunset and we had just pulled up to the house when Will had come charging over.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, immediately getting blocked by my step-father, who used himself as a barrier between me and him.

“Back up.” he warned, And for a 6 foot guy with facial scaring and a beard, it was a clear warning.

“What happened?” Will basically ignored him, looking past him at me.

“Let’s go.” my mom tried to pull me inside, but I resisted her pull.

“It’s ok.” I reached out and touched my step-dad’s back, stepping around him to Will. “It’s ok.”

My parents both took a step back, opting to stand on the first steps of the porch while Will and I spoke.

“I warned you this would happen.” I started, with a low blow. But Will needed to understand this was stupid.

All of it. Keeping Caesar, giving Charles the drug that was obviously failing and still not getting him admitted to a proper facility. All this mess was his fault.

“I don’t need that right now.” he hissed, running his hands through his hair as he paced. “Why weren’t you there?”

“I’m not paid by you to be his babysitter. I don’t have to come over.”

“Caesar didn’t tell me what happened. Why did you leave? What is going on?”

“Nothing. We got into a fight, I wanted time to think.”

Will didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at me as he continued to pace in front of my house.

“Wait, you’re not blaming me for this, are you?”

Will stopped, his back to me. He didn’t answer, giving me all the answer I needed.

What the hell could I have done if I was there? I don’t know how Caesar got out, definitely don’t know how Charles did. And how would I have been able to stop either of them from doing what they did?

“Fuck you Will.” I turned, intending to head inside my house.

“They’ve got him in some sanctuary outside the city.” Will spoke up, his words having their intended effect as I stopped.

So, he wasn’t dead. A part of me guessed he would be, and a tiny part of me hoped he was. Then it would make the ache in my chest go away.

I missed him, and was so fucking worried about what they were doing to him.

Yes, he scared me. And I would probably never be able to look him in those hazel eyes again, but he was still my friend.

It’s funny. You get into a fight with someone and are so mad at them you wish to never hear or see them again, and then that possibility becomes a reality and all I want to do it hug him.

I’d had nightmares in that hospital, of Caesar attacking Douglas. And they all ended with Caesar getting shot, and I woke up screaming to see him.

I wanted to see him again. To make sure he was ok.

Caesar attacked because Charles was in danger, just like I had been with the dog.

He wasn’t mean, and vicious. He wasn’t like a normal ape. Yes, the huge fangs and inhumane strength coupled with years of evolution as a predator made it worse, but all that was done was defending his family, as any stupid, testosterone fueled man would.

“Is he ok?”

“No.” Will answered. “The place is ok, but he needs to be home.” He sighed, and I heard him turn to me, and so I turned around too. “I’m going to the courthouse tomorrow to see when the soonest date is for a court appeal to have him brought home.”

My heart jumped, scared and happy. “They’ll let him come home?”

“I’m gonna hire the best fuckin’ lawyer to make sure he does. You’re gonna need to testify.”

“No.” my mom interjected.

“Anything.” I replied over her, not a second’s hesitation in my mind.

I looked across the street, to the unlit attic window. Maybe this was all my fault. If I had just stayed, if I had been there, maybe I could have done something.

“How’s Charles?”

“Shaken. Angry. He wants Caesar back. We all do.”

But would we ever see him again?

[respectthepetty]

We started episode nine of Wandee Goodday with the blinding yellow orb of light surrounded by pink/purple flowers. I'm gonna ignore the Ter part because between this and OMG! Vampire (and Thai BLs in general), I got questions about the lack of severity regarding male sexual assault and harassment, but that's a different post.

The props department has given me a yellow and purple labeled beer with the production name on it - AllThat Beer. Bless you, props department.

Yellow on Yak's side, purple on Dee's side, and they kiss in the blue with the purple countdown, and because I hate this blue, hopefully this is also a countdown to the fake part of their relationship ending soon.

@overrgrownn, already pointed out how they swap colors when they step outside and Yak turns pink, but the mermaid tails are in their colors too in yellow/red and purple/pink. Great had a picture on the set of him in a red wig and the boys have been spotted in other wigs, so maybe we wrote this mermaid plot off to quickly.

GET OUT OF HERE BLUE!

Much better! Much much better!

I knew the building's exterior lights were purple, but I hadn't realized it had yellow accents.

This is the worst montage of my life! I can deal with Yak in black because it's one of his colors, but seeing that brown and blue the entire time Yak is trying to woo Dee is disgusting!

Because even when there is yellow, it is covered up!

Both of them are very aware of their feelings! The colors are right there! SO WHY CAN'T I GET THEM?!

It's because they are faking it even when they don't need too!

And I've done been saying that Yak has tried to copy Ter because that's who Dee liked for eight years, so TAKE THE BROWN OFF YOUR BODY!

Y'all don't want to be to fake blue and brown like Ter trying to figure out his life.

And as cute as the boxing couple are, neither Yak nor Dee are an odd little boxing man or his girlfriend!

SO QUIT THE BIULLSHIT, DEE! I don't know why you feel you must lie about your feelings or your color anymore. I'm pretty sure that shirt is pink, so you're just going to sit there in a pink shirt AND LIE with the blue backing you up?! LIAR!!!!!!

I have a theory about the eleventh episode, and I think this man foreshadows it since Ter took too long to sort out his feelings and lost out, but before I write about it, I appreciate AllThat Entertainment for using the same actors in its shows because I deserve to see this man not surrounded by a harem of boys and being batshit crazy.

But back to Dee because even Kao knows what his true color is with his purple confidential folder.

So get it the fuck together, Dee! You know what your color and feelings are, so quit playing with this blue and these lies.

Because I think the eleventh episode will be Yak giving up. Yak lost his first boxing match because he ran out of energy to continue the fight, and Dee has continued this fight for no good reason. Therefore, I've been thinking that Yak was going to give up and Dee would have to finally step up and prove he loves Yak. Now, I NEED THIS TO HAPPEN!

Because as much as Dee is there for Yak, he is still hiding behind this illusion of a fake relationship.

Yak needs to win that final match, but he is dealing with some mental blockage. (This picture was absolutely necessary because he is wearing blue here)

The yellow comes from his mom.

And probably the pants too which is why they are so important. (Thanks, Dee, for showing up in your color)

So Dee gives Yak peace of mind and fills the voids that were left behind when Yak's mother died. We see the same dynamic between Cher and Yei.

But what will happen if Dee doesn't bring peace when Yak needs it the most? Dee's Nineties shirt had the always important message to "Make Love, Not War," but is he taking that advice?

He is absorbing Yak's color and combining it with his.

Yak is telling him that he loves Dee in every single way possible.

And they continue to switch colors as they kiss on the lips.

But Dee continues to deny his feelings and push Yak away when he feels too much. Next week, Yak is fighting for his family and home in episode ten, so I'm hoping everything else gets resolved, and all we are left with is the championship match and love for the last two episodes. My fingers are crossed that Yak will lose in this battle of love with Dee since Dee must always win (and he will win that scholarship).

Please, GMMTV, force Dee to make a choice because even if he wins everything, he'll still lose something.

Please.

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

It's So Hard To Watch (Everything I Want) - reality tv star!Rafe Cameron x Reader

I Feel You Underneath My Tongue (Next To Every Word That I Should Have Said): Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You and Rafe had a long history together. The love that you shared wasn’t something that you’d ever questioned–not even when you guys were on a break from your relationship. But, suddenly he’s ghosting you. And the next thing you know? You’re getting a call from an MTV producer saying your ex Rafe is a contestant on Are You The One? and they need to come in for the ex’s episode of the show. And well, you couldn’t say no, could you?

CW/TWs: angst, female reader implied, cursing, toxic relationships afoot, a brief description of physical violence, implied previous physical violence, verbal harassment/abuse, not the most edited/reviewed

Words: 8.4k+

Note: Yes I used pretty boy blonde-era Drew for my header what about it!! And also? I used Jeff Probst because I thought it would be funny OBVIOUSLY he’d never host a reality tv dating show goodbye. So I started writing this a long time ago, forgot about it, and just revisited it to finish ‘er up. Now that said, uhhhhh I think I mayyyyy do a part 2 where Rafe gets back home because this is uhhhhh depressing and I Need closure. But! We’ll see!

Rafe Cameron had never been one you’d see going on a fucking reality TV show. No. Not at all, in fact. You had known him for the majority of his life. You’d dated the idiot for three years too. After the breakup, you went no contact for your own sake—he was impossible to be around and not fall back into his arms, no matter how much you hated it. Rafe hated it more, though. He tried desperately in the nearly year and a half since your break-up to get back together. You watched as he genuinely worked on changing himself and improving.

But then, suddenly, four months earlier he’d gone radio silent. You’d be the worst kind of liar if you said that it hadn’t hurt you. The abrupt cut-off had made you realize just how close you’d been to taking him back. Apparently, that wasn’t in the cards, though. Apparently, he was entirely over you. No matter how much you utterly fucking hated that. No matter how much it fucking destroyed you after those first two weeks of realizing that he wasn’t going to be coming back.

It got even weirder, though when a fucking MTV producer reached out to you. We’re with MTV’s Are You The One? they’d explained. You’re the ex of one of our contestants Rafe Cameron. Literally what? Would you be interested in getting a trip to Hawaii and being part of the experience? And again, unendingly now, what the actual fuck had Rafe gotten himself into? And why the fuck was he trying to have you be dragged into it?

All of the emotions that flooded you when that phone call started were…violent to say the least. And you were sad too. Part of you had hoped that Rafe would get the fuck over himself and call you again. Part of you hoped that you would’ve been able to give it another shot. But no. Apparently, he’d decided it’d be much more fun to just, you know, go on a stupid dating show with MTV and find his alleged perfect match. It made you sick to your stomach.

Are You the One was a show that felt like it was ripped from your worst nightmares. At least if Rafe was a contestant on it with someone else. The show had a dating algorithm that helps quantify compatibility for twenty-two people. It uses, according to the producer, in-depth interviews, some questionnaires, and then compatibility tests too. So, in the end, the contestants are set with their ideal match. With “their one” apparently. So, the unaware participants have to then get to know each other and undergo tests all while living with all of each other. And if, in the end, all eleven couples were able to figure out who they were after all eight weeks were up then they’d walk away with one million dollars and, potentially, the future love of their life.

The thought of Rafe meeting…

Naturally, you accepted the producer’s offer.

Topper, one of your best friends, even now–even after everything, told you how stupid of an idea it was to agree.

Even so, he booked his own tickets to come to Hawaii with you.

And that was how you found yourself at an insanely gorgeous resort in Oahu a month later with little to no information on what was actually going on or what would be expected of you. The only consolation was that you were far from the only ex here. It looked like every contestant had one person here for them. You were, however, one of the only… normal-seeming ones. Not for the first time since landing you cursed yourself for going along with this stupidity. Sure they wouldn’t really have another ex to call for Rafe that was actually an ex but that was their problem, not yours. Besides, if there’s one thing MTV can do it’s lie about their reality television shows. Even so, waiting in their stupid green room area altogether for whatever stupid instructions were to come next felt…well, stupid.

You heard your name called over your shoulder and you turned your head. “Hey, pretty girl. Now who is your ex again?” asked an extremely tall, well-built, and objectively gorgeous man next to you. He was grinning at you, the look in his eyes displaying an all-too-familiar attraction. But, if there was one thing you weren’t going to be doing? Fucking any of these weirdos. But, a little flirting couldn’t help. “Was it…was it Ryan?”

“So close. Rafe,” you corrected, giving him a half-smile. “It’s Alex, right? And your ex was Thalia?” He nodded. You hummed, shrugging. They’d shown you the audition videos they’d been given and Thalia seemed…interesting. “She looked super beautiful.”

“Yeah, beautiful and an absolute fucking nutcase,” he said seriously, even as he grinned. “She was always doing some dumb shit. Trying to accuse me of cheating on her when I was at work. Trying to fuck my brother when I told her that we were done.”

You let out a low whistle. “Damn, so you got a score to settle then,” you mused, leaning back in the chair to look at him. “I can respect that. I’m sure the producers love it.”

He nodded. “Oh they do,” he confirmed. He nudged your shoulder playfully and then winked. “Sorry, but I might be dragging your man down because of it. Word on the street is they’ve been paired up the past two weeks or something.” Your heart squeezed in a sad pain and you dutifully ignored it. “Don’t trip though, I’m gonna set him straight on what’s up with Thalia.”

“I don’t care,” you immediately replied, voice sharp and entirely unconvincing.

He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been sitting here alone in your own little world instead of talking to all of us so I got a feeling you’re a little wrapped up in all this. And in him.” You shook your head in denial, rolling your eyes at the very true accusation. He chuckled again and this time you raised an eyebrow at him. “So what? Did y’all like break up a week before he came on or whatever?”

Clenching your jaw, you reminded yourself that this was just a stranger making conversation. There was no need to blow up on him. That was Rafe’s thing, not yours. “We broke up like a year and a half ago,” you said plainly.

“After how long?” he asked curiously.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. We started on and off hooking up in…like high school—which our friends hated, of course. We went to separate colleges, but like…we just couldn’t stay away from each other. And by the time my senior year of college came? We were visiting each other practically every other weekend. Our friends had to inform us we’d been dating for like two years already at that point,” you said, shrugging. “But after he officially asked me and we made it exclusive…official…whatever? We were together for a little over three years.”

His nose wrinkled. “And y’all still run in the same circles and all that?” he asked, a sympathetic grimace on his face. You nodded. This time, he let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s fucked. Known each other your whole damn lives and he still couldn’t post up for you. That’s crazy. You’re way too beautiful to be treated like that.”

“I know,” you said dryly.

“Nah, sorry, sorry,” he said, winking. “I don’t mean it, like, to flirt with you. Promise.” You raised an eyebrow and he laughed. “Okay, only a little.” He sobered up, rubbing his hands together. “Still. Must be hard. Can’t even have that separation.”

You hummed. “No, we did. After the break up for like a month I didn’t talk to him. Avoided all our mutual friends, the whole bit. But then I remembered how much I fucking loved him regardless of our relationship. The…the issues that we had were…I didn’t leave him because I didn’t love him. I left him because I couldn’t keep enabling him. Remembered I didn’t want to lose that. So, like…I started to talk to him again. He was making genuine…good steps toward being a better man. One that he claimed would be worthy of me or whatever. But then five months ago or so he just…stopped talking altogether. Wouldn’t answer a phone call, text…nothing. So I just…took the hint. Next thing I knew I was getting a call from a fucking MTV producer. And now here I am. Talking to you.”

“You want him back?” the guy asked curiously. You glared half-heartedly at him. “No, no. I’m just asking because I fully plan to hook up with Thalia tonight, I ain’t gonna lie to you. So I’m just saying that door’s gonna be open.”

“All I want from him is to know why he went on a dating show and dragged me into it,” you corrected. He smirked at your side and you held up a hand in warning. “Don’t you say a damn word. What was I gonna do? Say no to a free Hawaiian vacation? Fuck that. I’m gonna stay here and enjoy myself.”

“Then go home to eat a metric ton of ice cream and cry, right?” he asked casually.

“Fucking Christ, dude we just met!” you said. “Why you dragging me like I’m the one dating your ex?”

He laughed. “Oh, no, baby girl, I’m gonna be dragging your ex. You? I’m just teasing,” he said.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I mean, hey, feel free,” you said, inclining your head.

That seemed to end the conversation between you both. Just in time, it seemed because a producer then came and started herding the group around like cattle. Each of the exes was briefly obsessed over by assistants who made sure our outfits—ones they chose, of course—hair and makeup were all perfect. Only when everyone was set were you approached by another production assistant.

“Alright listen up!” the stern-looking young woman called. “We’re going to be sending you out in pairs. So whoever your ex is matched with currently is who you’re going to be going out with. We’re sending you out and leaving a minute gap between to get the reactions of the contestants. The plan is to send you out in order from the newest matches to the longest matches.” She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. “So first we have the newest match Amelia and Jacques, so…Jordan and…also Jordan line up.”

You watched as male Jordan and female Jordan stood next to each other. On and on it went. Ten couples called before you. You felt your hand trembling at your side with unexpressed emotion and you drummed at your thigh in an attempt to stop it. Ten couples called before you.

“I told you they were together, gorgeous, didn’t I?” Alex whispered in your ear as you stood side to side.

“Last couple, and the longest…Rafe and Thalia,” she said. The words stung and settled in your stomach like lead. Your feet moved you into the line at the end before she’d even finished saying yours and Alex’s name. Alex stood next to you, his hand brushing the small of your back, bringing you back down to the moment, snapping out of the distraction. “Alright. From the top. First two, my Jordans, you’re out in two minutes. I’ll be right back to get you.”

“How you feeling hearing that?” Alex whispered to you. “It’s been six weeks in that fucking house and they’ve been together like all of it. I’m fucking pissed.”

“I don’t know why I came here,” you admitted after a moment.

He barked out a laugh. “Well, too late to back out now,” he said dryly.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You folded your arms across your chest watching as the first group was taken out then the next then the next then the next. Abruptly after the last before you were taken out, you looked to Alex. “Do I look okay?

“What?” he asked, surprised.

“Do I look okay? I can’t walk out there if I don’t look okay,” you replied anxiously, wringing your hands in front of you.

He looked you up and down grinning. “You look super fucking hot. Don’t worry about that,” he said easily, slinging his arm around your shoulder, jostling you gently as if you were lifelong friends and hadn’t met two hours earlier. “Now buck up, gorgeous. We gotta get our game faces on. We gotta go.”

As if summoned by his word, the production assistant came back for you two gesturing you two out into the fray. You kept your face carefully neutral, noting Alex doing the same at your side. You exited, eyes doing anything but looking in the direction of the contestants. You moved onto the pedestal where the other exes were, Alex’s hand touching your lower back as you both moved up. You gave him a half-smile, recognizing the reflexive protective gesture. You could feel burning stares on you and you hated it. Evidently, someone didn’t like that.

Eventually, having no other choice, you turned your eyes towards the contestants. The first place your eyes fell was on a taller woman, with perfectly tanned skin, gorgeous dark hair that practically hung to her ass, and—speaking of her ass, boy did she have a good one. Thalia. You could tell because your eyes drifting just to her side was your Rafe. No. Just Rafe. Her Rafe, actually. He looked relatively at ease by his posture. But, both of them were glaring at you and Alex.

“So,” came the voice of the host. “All of the exes are here.”

MTV had managed to bag Jeff Probst of all fucking people. Appropriate, you supposed considering that the show was modeled after Survivor in that there are competitions and voting involved. Much lower stakes all around, physically at least. Everyone nodded at Jeff’s words and you couldn’t help but try to pretend you were on the Survivor jury instead of standing here in this objectively awful situation. There was a low murmur from the contestants’ side. But, on the opposite platform, everyone was silent.

“Wow…pretty silent here,” Jeff commented. “Especially considering I know how loud all of you can be on days like this.” He looked pointedly over at the contestants. “So…how are we feeling? What’s it like seeing your exes standing here looking at you as you stand next to who you hope to be your perfect match?” He made a point of looking over at us and then back to the contestants. “Thalia, why don’t you tell us how you’re doing with all this.”

The girl next to Rafe took a dramatically deep, shaky breath. You watched as Rafe’s hand moved to her back, rubbing it soothingly. He looked down at her, a soft sort of look in his eyes and you felt nauseous in a way that you didn’t expect. You carefully steadied your breathing and focused your gaze just past them. She took a moment, turning towards Rafe and murmuring something that you were sure the mic packs on them could pick up even though you couldn’t hear it. You watched as Rafe replied quietly and then pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.

It spiked your fucking blood pressure.

“Thalia,” Jeff prompted.

“Sorry, Jeff,” she said, a sugary sweet voice watery and wavering. “It’s just…it’s hard. To see him. And to see her too, honestly. I mean…I mean knowing what he did to me. Knowing what she did to Rafe. Hell, knowing what everyone else’s exes were like too…this just…it’s awful, honestly. We’re here to try and move forward and still somehow it feels like all we’re doing is sliding back.” She fanned at her eyes.

“You seem really upset,” Jeff said, nodding. “How does it…how is it that the mere presence of your exes could cause this much stress for you? Do you not have confidence in your relationships? Do you think this is going to cause problems…have the cracks started to show?”

“Fuck no!” Thalia snapped. “I just don’t want to even see this bitch. I don’t want to see her even fucking breathe in Rafe’s direction. I don’t want her ass to even speak on him. I know that the way she treated him and it doesn’t matter how fucking pretty she is on the outside I know what an ugly, horrible, frigid ass bitch she is on this inside! I don’t need that fucking energy around and Rafe sure as shit doesn’t! It’s not my fault she fumbled and lost him! He’s a fucking catch and I’m not gonna act like I’m not glad about it. He’s my man now and she’s just gonna have to deal with it. That’s it. The end. I don’t fucking care! I don’t want to see her stupid ass face.” She scoffed. “And you know me, Jeff. I’ll fucking beat someone’s ass if they fuck with the people I love.”

You didn’t particularly care about the girl’s words. You didn’t know her. She was an attention-starved brat…or rat if you were going to give in to the more malicious thoughts in your mind. She wanted to be famous…as famous as you could get from trashy reality TV, at least. Her words didn’t matter. Rafe’s reaction certainly did though. He just clenched his jaw and looked up towards the sky and then cast his eyes down. Still, his hand stayed on her back, rubbing it soothingly. That boiled your blood, admittedly. And, it seemed that the girl’s words actually pissed off Alex more.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Thalia. God, you don’t even know her,” he said snappily.

“Oh, and you do? You don’t fucking know her or the shit she’s done. Don’t even talk to me,” she snapped back in reply.

“Just like how these people don’t know all the shit that you’ve done!” he replied. He turned his eyes to Rafe. “And you? This girl? Who you claimed to love for years and years and years and have known like your whole life, what? You’re cool with some girl you met a month ago talking like that? The fuck is wrong with you, bro?”

“Don’t fucking call me bro,” Rafe said, a lazy, hard-edged smirk on his mouth and a glint in his eyes that displayed the carefully concealed rage just beneath the surface. “And you need to watch your fucking mouth coming in here talking like that to anybody.”

“Yeah, okay,” Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Jeff cleared his throat. “Emotions are already running high,” he noted. He said your name, turning all eyes towards you. “You haven’t even said a word and yet you’ve been the center of attention since you came out here. So, what’s all this like for you?”

You hated the feeling of the lights and the eyes all on you. It made you want to twitch. Instead, you kept your face in a mask and shrugged. “Don’t particularly care,” you said blandly.

“Yeah because you’re an emotionless robotic bitch,” Thalia near-yelled.

“Thalia. Let’s let her talk,” Jeff said, his words a suggestion but tone a command. He turned back towards you, gesturing at you with his hand. “Please, go on. Tell us why you decided to come if you knew something like this might happen.”

You gave Jeff a saccharine smile. “Always wanted to visit Oahu,” you said, biting back the sarcasm that threatened to overcome you. The other exes laughed in amusement and agreement at the sentiment but sobered up when Jeff called us back to order.

“Nothing else? It didn’t have anything to do with a desire for closure? To feel like you had to warn someone else about Rafe? To see how you’d measure up to this potential new perfect match he has? These are just some of the reasons that exes on past seasons have given for their appearances,” Jeff pointed out.

“Nah, definitely not for closure…I don’t think this place is where you’d get something like that. You’d kind of be an idiot to try with some people, I’m sure,” you said. Then, you shrugged. “And I have no desire to warn other people about Rafe. Everyone’s got their own red flags and no one listens to advice anyways so there’s absolutely no point.” You hummed, lips twitching up for a moment then flattening out. “And yeah, I don’t care about whatever potential little…perfect match or whatever there is. I don’t compare myself to other people, even when they apparently desperately want me to. So…yeah, Jeff. It really just is the trip to Oahu. And hey? Who else were they gonna call for Rafe?”

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.

It was so much more than that.

You’d die before admitting it.

“Interesting,” he said. “And, not to make things uncomfortable. But let’s address the elephant in the room. You’ve looked at Rafe maybe twice since you came in here. What’s it like to be with him in a situation like this? What’s it like to have Alex next to you defend you from his own ex’s words all while Rafe doesn’t say anything?”

You let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I don’t usually stare at people, so I certainly don’t feel any sort of need to do so now. And I’m not particularly…surprised by him not defending me. It’s never been his style,” you said simply. You saw him tense slightly and roll his eyes but you ignored him wholly. You glanced over to Alex. “It was nice of Alex to defend me, I guess.” Thalia scoffed and you resisted the urge to launch yourself at her and punch her. You were better than that. You weren’t going to be the asshole here. It was going to be clear that it was her. You were determined. “But I’m a big girl. I can fight my own battles.”

Jeff nodded. “Well, you haven’t reacted to what most people here would consider a fight being brought directly in front of you. Thalia has made it extremely clear how she feels about you. She’s also made it extremely clear what the people in this house apparently think about your past relationship with Rafe. What do you say to all of that? Is that not worth fighting for?”

“That isn’t a fight,” you dismissed. “That’s people who don’t know me or the person that they’re getting…some form of information from. I don’t care how much trauma dumping you do in six weeks. You’re not gonna have a clue who you’re dealing with. I promise you that. So I don’t care what she’s saying at all—I’m never gonna have to see her again after this. I have people who care about me at home. I have people who know me. These people?” You look at all the participants and shrug. “No offense. I’m sure you’re all great in the real world. But you mean absolutely nothing to me. Your opinions mean less than nothing to me. Your opinions about me? Nothing. Your opinions about the relationship that I had with Rafe? Nothing.” You looked back to Jeff. “You want me to be honest, Jeff? I don’t think that the ‘fight’ being brought to me or whatever you wanna say is even worth this conversation.”

Jeff smiled and nodded at you. “One of the most mature responses that you could have in the face of someone being so openly hostile to you a minute after you even come out here,” he said. He looked over at Alex then. “And you, Alex? Do you feel the same?”

“Absolutely, Jeff,” he said, nodding. “I don’t know these people and I don’t care. They’re not why I’m here. But nah, unlike her I am gonna tell the facts of how Thalia is. Because I’m not cool with her walking around here acting like she’s a victim when she knows damn well she isn’t one.” He scoffed. “And knowing that she’s potentially a match with her ex or whatever? I’m sure she feels at least a little the same.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jeff coaxed.

Alex shook his head. “Just saying, Jeff,” he said vaguely. “I’m not gonna get into it yet. That’s for me and them to talk about later.” The nebulous reference clearly being either Rafe or Thalia…maybe even you. You truly didn’t care about that.

“Fair enough,” Jeff said. He clapped his hands together and turned his body towards the participants. “Now, Rafe…you’ve been very quiet so far today since you found out what was going on tonight. What’s going on in your mind?”

Rafe was silent for a moment. You watched as Thalia turned her body towards him placing her hand possessively on his stomach, stroking it as if trying to be soothing and missing the mark entirely. He didn’t spare her a glance. You could tell he was overwhelmed to some level and his brain was shutting down, only letting him focus on one thing at a time. You could see it in the slightly dazed expression and the pinched turn of his eyes.

“I don’t know Jeff. It’s always hard to see people who meant the world to you and then just…didn’t anymore,” Rafe said vaguely. You actively had to remind yourself to keep breathing evenly so your breath wouldn’t hitch in your throat at his words. “I mean, like, for all of us. These are people who were important in our lives somehow. They’re representations of problems we have in dating. All that. So yeah, it’s like seeing…I don’t know…your mistakes personified for a lot of us.”

You couldn’t help but recoil at that slightly, taking a half-step back like you took a physical blow. The words seemed to register with the rest of the crowd. Murmuring happened on both sides, some of disapproval of his words, some of approval of what he’d said. You took a deep breath, making your face neutral when you felt a girl next to you wrap her arm around your waist. You took the opportunity to use it to ground yourself, wrapping your hand around hers in turn. As much as you hated that you needed it, the support was appreciated.

“Wow,” Jeff said. He glanced at you, saying your name, and then back to Rafe. “Do you think she’s a mistake, Rafe?”

“She taught me a lot about myself,” Rafe said. “And I’ll always appreciate that. But not all relationships are supposed to last. Some of them are just to help us learn more about what we want in a relationship and nothing else.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Jeff prodded. “Do you categorize your relationship with her as a mistake?”

Rafe looked at you and you met his eye head-on, refusing to be impacted.

You could tell what the answer was going to be before he even opened his mouth.

“Yes,” he said steadily. Immediately, he looked away.

You felt like someone had reached into your chest and tore your heart out. You were suddenly glad that your hand was wound around the girl so no one would see how you were shaking. Your face you could control. Even your tears. But your hands? No. All you wanted now was to go back to your room and call Topper and tell him that you were going to crash with him in Kona sooner than you planned. Crying to your best friend for comfort was the only thing that would even potentially work. But that would have to wait until the night was over. You would be strong until then. You had to.

The muttering amongst the groups on either side grew louder once again. You kept your brain fuzzy and uninvolved, not letting yourself sink into the sticky discomfort of your feelings that would swallow you and encase you in pain like a fly in fucking amber. You couldn’t do this. Not right now.

“And how does that feel?” Jeff said, the question directed at you. “Hearing Rafe call your relationship a mistake? What’s that like for you? Do you feel it’s a fair representation of the relationship you had with him?”

You paused for a moment, looking towards the ground and then back up, a fake smile turning your lips upward. “Well, I’ve known Rafe more or less my whole life. He had a real temper on him when we were younger. So, it’s nowhere near the worst thing that Rafe has called me,” you said. “And besides, he can call me whatever he wants. It’s his right—we live in a free country, right? Whatever. I’m sure that there are things that I’d call him too if I thought it’d make me feel better.”

“And what are those?” Jeff asked, eager to hear some rebuttal from you, clearly.

“Nah. I’m not doing that,” you dismissed. “I feel no need to say that shit. It’s useless.”

Drug addict. Cokehead. Alcoholic. Asshole. Entitled. Liar. Petty. Mean. Fucking mistake. Those were just a few of the descriptors that came to mind.

“Alright. Let’s move on then,” Jeff said, neatly moving the conversation away from you, looking at the girl who had pulled you to her side in a show of support and was still. “Valeria, I see you here with your arm wrapped around her. Supporting her when you met her less than a few hours ago, really. In a show of support that, sometimes, we don’t even see from our own contestants. You hear her ex-boyfriend say something you deem hurtful and you immediately step in to be kind to her. That’s something that I doubt just anyone would do. Clearly, you’re a person who cares deeply about others. What’s it like to see Patrick, a man you loved, in a situation like this where he’s putting love and attention into others?”

“Well, Jeff. I just think it’s a shitty thing to do. You don’t talk about people you loved like that. Not if you really loved them. Because if you and your new girl or whatever are gonna gang up on her that’s fucked. So I’m gonna step in. As for Pat? He’s always been a very…free-spirited person with his affections. That was never gonna change. So…I sincerely hope he can find some form of happiness,” the girl said easily, the words falling off her tongue while she continued rubbing your back.

The conversation portion with the whole cohort of participants felt fucking endless considering you knew it would take up less than ten minutes of an episode. But, eventually, it mercifully was coming to an end. You could tell Jeff was winding it down, wrapping it up, and ready to move on. But, then he hit you with a curve ball.

“Now, for the true purpose of today: communication. You’ve all matched up for this week. You and your potential match are going to sit and spend two hours with your exes. You’re all going to have a conversation getting to know each other,” Jeff said. “Spend some time actually getting to know each other. Talk about the problems that you had in your failed relationships. Talk about the things that worked. The things that you admired.” He gestured towards Rafe. “Or the things that you feel made the relationship a mistake. This is going to be a game changer in terms of figuring out if you’re a perfect match or not. We only have two couples that you haven’t locked in yet. Just two couples you assume are perfect matches, and even them we don’t know. So? Pay attention. This could be one of the last obstacles between you and one million dollars. After that? You’ll spend an hour talking to your ex. Alone. Try to have a meaningful conversation. Then? You’re going to spend the night, all of you, all of your exes, partying poolside. Take the time then to talk to other exes of people who might otherwise be your perfect match. Make it a good night.”

Your blood felt like it had turned to ice in your veins. You had to spend an hour talking to her and to him. Well, at least you’d have Alex with you, you supposed. But, it still was terrible. This felt, frankly, like a heinous punishment that you didn’t deserve. You forced yourself to appear unmoved.

“I know we’re all excited,” Jeff said. He clapped his hands. “So let’s do this. Let’s split you all up.”

The director called cut then, and the atmosphere changed. Only slightly. The participants all relaxed marginally, posture loosening. But, the exes all remained tense. Valeria rubbed your shoulders next to you. “You okay?” she asked. “That was shitty to say.”

“I’m good,” you said, nodding. You gave her a weak smile. “Thank you though. It was super nice of you. I appreciate it.”

She nodded. “I meant what I said. No one deserves that,” she said. “Good luck with your conversations. They both seem real fucking peachy keen to be around.”

You bit back a laugh but Alex, evidently listening, didn’t bother. He laughed openly. “Yeah. Definitely gonna be a fun few hours for us for sure,” he agreed. He winked at you then. “Promise I’ll try to not fight your boy, gorgeous. But if he runs his mouth like that, I’m gonna shut him up.” He playfully tapped your chin, tilting your head up for a second. “And do shut Thalia’s shit down. She has no right to be talking. And I know she’ll just be running her fucking mouth.” You nodded jerkily, not wanting to even comment on it.

Eventually, you were all ripped apart. You were given a brief rundown of the hour and how long you’d actually have cameras on you, where they’d be, hard conversational limits, and everything in between. They set it up so that you’d be in a room with only cameras set up, not operated by cameramen. It would just be you four. God fucking help you all.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Alex said, trying to offer some form of comfort, his hands folded across his chest as he sat back on one of the couches. Rafe and Thalia were about to be brought in and you both were stressed in different ways. And all you could think about was the cameras set up around the room, recording every last piece of this.

You simply nodded, unable to speak. You felt in your bones that this was going to be absolutely fucking awful. But you’d play nice. You’d pretend you didn’t want to scream. You were surprised, however, when Thalia and Rafe entered the room. Thalia walked in, with a smile on her face, and plopped down on the couch across from Alex and you, throwing her feet up with ease. Rafe followed behind, sitting next to her, letting her practically lay over him.

It was gonna be a long fucking two hours.

An even longer night after that.

Fuck, this was a mistake.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” she demanded.

You didn’t even flinch at her harsh tone. You were working extraordinarily hard to not react with malice to her stupid words or her earlier actions. It was honestly hard. The silence on your part seemed to only serve to anger her more. You didn’t react to her anger and instead stared blankly at her. Alex, next to you, clenched and released his jaw, openly rolling his eyes at her.

“You really don’t get what’s going on here, do you?” she asked rudely. Still, you offered no response and she shook her head disdainfully at you and Alex. “I really don’t care what you and Rafe are or what you do today. You don’t mean shit to me. And at the end of the day? I know where his priorities are now. One day wouldn’t change that.” You tilted your head, still looking at her as if watching paint dry. “You’re not gonna fuck up a million dollars for the people in this house.”

Unable to help it, Alex barked out a laugh. “Fuck, they get Jeff in as a host and suddenly you think this shit actually is Survivor, huh? Fucking crazy,” he said, rolling his eyes. “None of the exes give a fuck about the people you’re with. Or your stupid ass game or any of you, actually.”

Thalia smirked at that. Your hands twitched with the urge to strike her, but you stifled it. “Oh, I definitely believe that,” she cooed, mocking.

“Thals,” Rafe said, sounding tired.

“Baby,” she said immediately, voice fake and innocent. You wanted to scream. Rafe said nothing further. Thalia set her eyes on you then. Her eyes were hard and calculating. “You especially. No one wants you here.”

You leaned back, folding your legs in front of yourself. You crossed your arms and drummed your fingers against your arm. “In what world do you think that I care what you want?” you asked dryly.

Thalia scoffed. “You’re such a cold, heartless, inconsiderate bitch,” she spat.

“Wow, those words mean so much from someone who doesn’t know me at all,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be filling some stupid little challenge now so you can try to get a million dollars for everyone in this house who probably doesn’t need it?”

“You’re just mad that you,” she tried.

“That’s where I’ll stop you,” you drawled, leaning sharply forward. “Shut the fuck up. You sure run your mouth a lot for someone who I am sure is just desperate to be painted as a victim when the editors go through and make their little arts and crafts project with their footage. And that’s all fine and well and good. Really, sweetie, oh I’ll be rooting for you. I will. But, here’s the thing. My emotions? My life? All that? Not for fucking you. And not for a fucking camera.” You gave her a cold smirk, leaning back again. “Far be it from me to make your boyfriend’s mistake worse, right? So you keep your fucking hands to yourself and you stop running your mouth like you’re hard and we won’t have a fucking problem tonight. Then? We never have to see each other again.”

“This is so fucked,” Alex said. He cleared his throat, eyes leveling on Rafe, interrupting the conversation between you and Thalia. “So, you a cheater too just like her, bro? Or are you just gonna be the next guy she tosses aside?”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Don’t fucking talk to me,” he warned.

Alex cut his eyes over to you. “See that’s why I said I’d drag your fucking ex, gorgeous. Because this guy? Something ‘bout his face just…pisses me the fuck off.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Thalia snapped.

“Thalia,” Rafe said, voice sharp. “Don’t make this harder.”

“Oh?” Thalia demanded, rounding on him. “Is this hard for you?” She was sneering at him now in a way that set your teeth on edge. Something about the way she spoke to him reminded you of Rafe’s dad. And suddenly this match made you feel physically ill in a completely different way than it had before. You looked away, hand clenching around your knees. “Well, I’m just so sorry about that, Rafe. How dare I have emotions! I really must be the issue, huh!”

You glanced over at Alex. “She talk to you like that a lot?” you asked him bluntly.

“She don’t know how to talk without being a bitch,” Alex said icily. “And evidently that hasn’t changed.” You bit your tongue to keep from saying well then neither has Rafe’s self-esteem or trauma responses. Alex snapped his head back over to the other pair. “Hey, good to know you haven’t learned how to talk to someone else if you’re so highly evolved Thalia.”

That, for whatever reason, seemed to set off the volatile girl more than she already had been. She looked about ready to launch herself at Alex. Seeming to recognize this, Rafe grabbed her arm gently as if to refocus her. It was something that he’d done to you a fair few times when you’d been together and someone had done something particularly aggravating and you needed to calm down. This proved to be a…bad move. Thalia did indeed refocus. All of her rage onto Rafe, that is. The second that you saw her slap him, though? It was your turn to see white.

You weren’t fully connected to your body as you moved, reacting to the sight. You were on your feet, physically dragging her by her stupidly long hair off of Rafe and throwing her away from him. She seemed stunned that you’d done that. She then seemed pissed you’d done that. So, naturally, her stupid self tried to rush you. Again, you pushed her back, getting closer and closer to being willing to actually hurt her.

“You wanna fucking run that again, princess?” you demanded icily. “Try to hit me, bitch. I’ll fucking hit back I promise you that.” You got closer, glowering at her, practically eye to eye. “You been fucking throwing hands at him? I know that wasn’t the first fucking time? You get off on this shit?” It had been easy to spot the punch she tried to throw. It was even easier still to deflect the punch shoving her far harder. “Try that again and I’m gonna fucking lay your ass out so help me fucking God.”

“Thalia.”

This time the word came from Alex. The word was flat and unimpressed. A quick glance over at him showed a largely disappointed look on his face. And somehow, seeing that seemed to be enough to force Thalia to get a fucking grip. She stopped, slumping back and sulked, walking over to sit down next to Alex. You watched, genuinely disgusted, as she laid her head against Alex’s shoulder and he let her. And when she burst into ugly, blubbering tears you weren’t surprised, but you were angry.

You clenched and unclenched your first three times trying to will yourself to relax some. But, nothing was working. You took a deep breath once…another…another…and another ten times still before you were able to look over at Rafe. He sat there, face pale and eyes cast down. You moved on auto-pilot, the kind of thing that used to be second nature and innate but now felt more…disjointed…forced. You laid your hand softly on his wrist so he’d notice it before moving your hand up to his shoulder. You squeezed it in a pattern of three and his head slowly moved up. He looked at you, dazed and you didn’t know if you were more angry or sad for him, really.

“Stand up,” you said quietly. He looked confused. You clarified. “You’re not staying in this room with that fucking lunatic. And Rafe…I swear to God don’t fucking argue with me on that. You’re lucky I didn’t break her fucking nose. Let’s go.”

Seemingly in a daze, he rose. You cast a look over towards Alex as Rafe followed like a shadow over to the door. You glared at the other man and he gave a half-hearted frown of apology as if he’d expected something like this to happen. That didn’t make anything better. So, you simply shook your head and turned again. You yanked the door open and let Rafe walk out first, face still drawn. You shut the door quietly behind yourself and laid your hand gently on his bicep before gesturing him down the hall. We found not a producer or even an assistant first but instead, Jeff fucking Probst who looked startled to see us.

“You’re supposed to be,” he began.

“I’m supposed to be beating a bitch’s ass for putting her fucking hands on him like some little—” you cut yourself off. You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Forgive me. Thalia fucking hit him. Doesn’t seem like it’s the first time. So if I were you? I’d go ahead and get her the fuck out of here before I call my dad who works in entertainment law and let him tear this piss-poor production apart. And feel free to tell production I said that.”

Jeff winced. “I understand,” he said. He looked at Rafe. “I’m…I’m terribly sorry that happened. That hasn’t happened before as far as I’ve been told. There are mental health staff in the bungalow attached to the house. Go there. I’ll explain everything. Some people will stop by to talk later though, I’m sure.”

“Good,” you replied sharply in place of Rafe who still wasn’t speaking.

Following Jeff’s advice, you shepherded Rafe towards that bungalow where a kind woman gestured you two in before leaving to go get some…paperwork? Who the fuck knew? Who the fuck cared? You looked over at Rafe who was still silent, face pinched. It wasn’t hard to see his leg slightly shaking and the jittering of his hands.

“I hate knowing that wasn’t the first time and that you’d deny it to protect her,” you said bitterly. “Rafe you don’t know her. And you deserve better than that. Just like you always have.”

“I don’t,” he said, his voice coming out short and quiet. “I don’t deserve anything good.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head. “Thought we’d moved past the self-deprecating bullshit,” you commented. “My mistake.” You sighed. “Rafe…your family and friends all love you still. Even now. So don’t waste…your heart on shit like this. Fuck this show. You can afford to break whatever contract you had. Hell, my dad could find a loophole and sue for you I guarantee it. But you…you can’t stay here. You…you deserve good things. And that? That…person...who they’re trying to call your perfect match?” He stayed silent. “You got matched with her because fundamentally you still find yourself in the same place that your dad wanted you to be. You think that you owe everything to everyone else and don’t want to take responsibility or…ownership over anything. For fuck’s sake, Rafe. Do you really want her to be your spokesperson? You want anyone like her to be your spokesperson?” You shook your head vehemently. “You are so much better than that. I don’t…I don’t know if you can see it. I don’t care if you can see it. But it’s true. You threw away a year of sobriety and years of building real self-confidence and not your fake bravado bullshit for this?”

“No you don’t understand,” Rafe said. “I am sober. And I didn’t want–”

The door to the bungalow opened and the woman bustled in, hands absolutely full of stuff. You rose to your feet before the woman even had to open her mouth to tell you to leave. “Cast only,” she said anyway, uselessly.

“Yeah, right,” you said dryly.

“Wait…where are you going?” Rafe asked, face breaking open into vulnerability for a moment.

“Home,” you said shortly. “Worst vacation…ever.” He looked hopelessly confused at that news. “You should call my dad, Rafe. Like now. You are not supposed to go through this shit alone. You know he’ll help you. You have his number.”

“I can’t…they…I don’t have my phone,” Rafe muttered, looking away from you.

Your eyes darkened. “Fuck’s sake these people,” you muttered. You took your phone from your pocket and called your dad before the woman across you could say a word. You gave your dad a curt explanation and he said he’d be in Hawaii in ten hours before briefly chewing you out for not saying where you were going beforehand.

“You can’t leave,” the woman said. “We need to—”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask, go through my fucking lawyer,” you said sharply, handing her your father’s business card. You glanced at Rafe. “He’ll be here in ten hours. Most likely super pissed. So…he’ll raise hell for you.”

“Are you…” Rafe trailed off. You raised an eyebrow. “Will you…stay?”

Your heart shattered and healed and shattered again in an ugly, impossible sort of way. “I…” you tried, trailing off immediately. “You…” Still no luck. Eventually, you were able to settle on, “I need to leave. I need to go home. I…I can’t fucking be here. I can’t see…this. I can’t hear…whatever you’re gonna tell my dad. I can’t see whatever footage he’s gonna have them dredge up. I need to go. Home.” You looked at him, letting out a shaky breath. “And you should consider doing the same thing. As soon as humanly possible.”

Your name spilled from his lips and it sounded so right and so wrong in that moment. “I…I’m…” he tried, voice breaking.

“No,” you denied, giving him a bitter smile. “Don’t. I don’t…I don’t want to hear it, Rafe. I really don’t. I wasn’t going to see someone hurt you. I never have. I never will. But facts are facts right?” His face fell, knowing what you meant. “And I’m a mistake. Let’s not drag it out any longer, right?” You shook your head. “Good luck, Rafe. I…wish nothing but the best for you.”

“I didn’t…” Rafe tried. “I can explain.”

“No,” you denied, holding a hand up. “I can’t do this. Not here. Not now. I’m…done with this. With all of this. Truly.” You let out a devastated-sounding, sad sort of sigh and offered an obviously fake tiny smile. “Just let me know when my dad gets here—you know he’ll forget to.” He went to speak and you held up a hand. “He’ll get your phone back if these psychos don’t give it to you by then.”

“I will,” he said immediately in reply, a sad, almost puppy-dog-like look in his eyes.

You sighed, biting back the urge to cry or scream…or anything else really. “You know what? Never mind. Call Topper. I…just…just let him know. He’ll tell me,” you said, voice going numb.

“Wait,” Rafe said, his voice shaky. “I…I want to tell you.”

“Rafe…please,” you said, giving him your best pleading look and more than willing to beg him if it meant he’d give you a break.

“I…okay. I…I’m sorry,” he said, frowning, looking genuinely remorseful.

As you started to leave, rage somehow carrying you as the influx of adrenaline faded, your name fell from Rafe’s mouth once more. You turned your head to look at him, silent and waiting. It took a few moments for him to crack. The time lingered, settling into crevices of yourself that long seemed gone—abandoned and disappeared with Rafe’s own missing presence. Yes, this was too hard already and the situation had just made it impossible.

“Get home safe,” he said, his voice breaking.

You let out a bitter laugh turning back around and heading out, refusing to turn your head. You knew that if you were to look back you’d cave immediately. And you couldn’t do that.

“You too, Rafe,” you offered blandly.

[invisiblegarters]

The Heart Killers Ep 7

You know, I kind of do want the reality where Bison just kills Kant like everyone keeps saying he'll do. Not because I hate Kant - next to Fadel he's my favorite - but because I feel like it would be very like Bison to do something like that in an impulsive rage and then regret it. But this is a romance above all, so that's not gonna happen

Lol these two are laying it on so thick. I feel like it's a case of Bison meaning it and not thinking he does and Fadel meaning it and knowing he does, but it's not gonna stop him from doing what he has to (or so he's telling himself)

Of course Style would give Fadel a crop top for bedwear. I approve of this agenda

Bison is so ridiculous I'm sorry. Fadel asking if he wants to spook Kant him or for him to notice and realize they Know (can't remember which it was, maybe it was both) is spot on, imo. Yes that's exactly what he wants because he's a drama queen

Case in point: those fantasies of killing Kant. I swear it's like when you have a great idea for a story but enjoy thinking about it way more than you do writing it. It's gonna go that way for Bison too, I bet

Okay I'm sorry but every bathroom scene I stop paying attention about two seconds in because I'm just waiting for people to wash their fucking hands. They never do

Keen you dumbass why are you gonna shoot either of these dudes point blank in a crowded bowling alley I'm beginning to see why Lilly gave you the desk job

Kant with kids is cute

I saw some gifs of the necklace scene and they made it look like Bison was disgusted but watching it he looks more upset. Glad for that because this is already kind of a hard sell for me lol. I don't want it to be but it is for some reason

Christ acting like he doesn't need Kant is very very funny when the dude hasn't done a single effective thing this entire show aside from stuff that has nothing to do with his job like be pretty and get the ball rolling for drama

Also very very funny: Kant being like "I'm done" only to instantly be like "wait, wait, wait I'm so close to getting this I'll do it" when Christ is like "'kay don't need you." Oh, Kant. You loser

Lol, I love how not scared of Fadel Style is after he doesn't kill him in the pool. The gun doesn't even matter to him because he knows that Fadel is not going to do a thing with it except posture. Love that for both of them

Joong is so impressive in this series. I adore him as Fadel. I love that you always know exactly where his head is at, there's no faltering or breaking or point when I have to handwave a damn thing. He's just phenomenal

I saved this for the end because I know me and I know that it will be long, but First fucking Kanaphan ladies and gents. He totally stole this entire episode for me. Between Kant finally cracking open when Bison gets hurt and the boat scene, I just...I don't even know what to say. And I seem to recall hearing something about First improvising quite a bit of it. I can't get over the boat scene, I think I must have watched it like eight hundred times already. Everything about it is so good. Kant's terror the second that he sees where he is, the way he never even really registers the gun being pointed at his face. The way he attempts to deescalate while nearly shitting his pants (the fixed way he stares at Bison's face is so good, because he's doing it in a way where you know he's barely even seeing him he just doesn't want to look at the water), and the way that the second he's forced to acknowledge that there's water all around him he turns into little more than terror. A+. Then the way he goes blank and remote when he realizes that Bison has no intention of helping him, that he's in fact enjoying his fear. Just a great job. Adore him. I know that this show will not deal with Kant's water trauma in a satisfying way - I do remember Only Friends and Top's fear of fire that he got over offscreen apparently, lol - but that's okay, because we still got that great bit of acting. I say again, First. Fucking. Kanaphan

[broken-clover]

It took me a while to get to Episode 4 (thanks, work...) but given how I saw the internet react to it I at least got a little of it. Then again, given how much I was dreading it from what I'd heard, I'm glad I watched it after all because I really softened on it

Spoilers!

-

-Mooooooore Bridget hey have you heard about Bridget did you know Bridget is here??

-...Despite myself, though, I'll admit...the scenes with her and Unika did make me feel something. I didn't hate it like I thought it would, and this is one time where I can actually feel a Bridget ship being compelling for me

-At the same time though they do not explain how they ended up together, and given that they show Unika passed out right next to Sn and Johnny and that everyone is still looking for her, it implies Bridget kidnapped her, and by extension that Bridget is now technically a war criminal

-This series is only going to be eight episodes long WE CANNOT JUSTIFY THIS MUCH FLASHBACK

-Also that means we officially only get Ky and Dizzy for at most half of the pissing series. The cast list was already tiny given the character roster and I swear to god half of them are bit parts

-Elphelt is just...entirely fine ok. I mean I sort of expected that. But my mind immediately veers into a depressing place because congrats Ram you almost died and were possibly horribly mutilated by something your sister just completely shook off

-'Nerville is evil' YEAH NO SHIT how did it take halfway through the series to realize that??

-Aww wouldn't call myself a Johnny fan but that was adorable he really can be a dad

-Given Strive's heaviness on everyone being friends I can respect they didn't sand off Paradigm's edges. At the same time though, I wish they made him a bit more nuanced because here he's weirdly bloodthirsty

-*pops out of a box* hey kid you wanna start a race war

-(Still mildly annoyed we're having Sin do the Gear stuff that Dizzy should have been doing for a decade now but whateverrrrr)

-Now in addition to physically traumatizing Sin we've moved on to mentally traumatizing him

-There were at least three times where I audibly went 'for the love of god can you please hug him'

-It felt a little jarring but I'm kinda glad he bounced back so fast because seeing Sin so horrifically depressed is doing something awful to me.

-From a structural standpoint, aside from the gratuitous flashbacks I did like the slightly slower pacing

-We only have four more episodes but I would not complain if we had one that was just Sin having a very nice low stakes day please for the love of fuck. I'm just glad to know that Arcade Strive is set after this because it means he doesn't come away too fucked up and miserable.

[2003daredevil]

I mean I watched seasons 2 and 3 largely at the same time so the border between them is a littke fuzzy for me but like I think the problem with Heather as a character is that in their shortest season they spend literally half of it giving Harry a new romantic lead out of left field and making bird jokes. For four episodes straight. Out of Eight.

And right after season 2 ends with the biggest reveals of the show so far so this arc which really belongs in seasons 1 or early 2 is put at the exact worst time pacing wise. And THEN there's STILL an episode dedicated to Bridget before the finale. I couldn't believe they'd waste so much time. 8 episodes is not a lot of time to start with but I think the biggest reason why rhe characters dont feel very in character and why the plot elements seem veey rushed is that there just wasnt time to really justify ANYTHING.

D'arcy rushing in and getting kidnapped happened because 'Harry was wasting time', Asta not checking up on the Hawthornes post abduction news. The Max and the alien club/ Max and Harry's relationship storyline getting more or less forgotten about. Max being completely uninvolved in Ben and Kates abduction plotline despite y'know EVERYTHING they went through in season 1. Harry not following up with Robert. Harry suddenly killing Bridget and then somehow needing to re-realize that he loves him. Liv and Mike straight up go from actively investigating the plot to dicking around most of the time. ALL of this. ALL of this could have been handled better if they used the screentime they had on the characters and storylines that already existed but they didnt even seem to try??

Ive watched shows with weak seasons before. In fact Id say every show I've watched thats longer than 3 seasons has at least one. So I'm not not that mad overall but Im very grateful it was only 8 episodes long. Also in other news they better not fucking waste season 4 because I have a feeling theyre not getting a 5, nor do they really need it.