#feels stupid once they have the benefit of hindsight. especially when the call was coming from inside the fucking house!

[the-voice-of-night-vale]

social anxiety can be really funny in retrospect bc it will have you saying shit like 'is it weird to call a doctor's office and schedule an appointment?"with 100% sincerity and panicking about it as if that's not the silliest thing in the world

[kanmom51]

JK live 3/8/2023 10:26 pm or 22:26 KST

**This post was written by @dgtn. Little me added some of my own insight. As a whole this was a joint effort put together by the two of us.

A huge thank you to @dgtn for helping me with this.💜

And a shoutout to JK for taking a couple of days off to allow us some time to try and catch up, lol.

So let's just jump right into it.

JK came live to us on 3 August 2023.  With hindsight we know that he was performing at Suga's concert the next day and the busy schedule he was talking about included rehearsing for that most enjoyable performance.

When he first turns on the live all we get is a chair, curtains, and a stove top vent. Same angle as the previous live. You know, the one I personally feel there was someone in the apartment with him. Kinda feels like we were put in time out! (some ARMY deserves to be put in time out but I digress).   Also, lights dimmed, like he likes (which once again makes me think that in the previous live when he turned them way brighter it was for someone else's benefit).

We can hear him whistling and singing in the background and getting a drink with ice.  Then he talking to himself:

“I have to take medicine!  That’s right” – he is still not feeling well.

“when do I clean my house? I’ll have to do a big cleanup”.   He’s been busy with other things, you know, conquering the world!  But of course domestic kookie places high priority on things being clean.

At around the 2 minute mark he finally comes into focus on the screen.  Typical cutie kookie, comes shuffling in wearing very cozy looking top (by one of his current fave brands, mihara Yasuhiro) with one of his signature beanies (which he takes off pretty quick after he realises, from the comments, that the beanie is same colour as the background and it looks like he has no hair - same effect as a green screen, lol).  He waves to the camera. Then he disappears again!!!!  Finally returns at around the 2 minute mark, sits down with his drink and says “hi”.

First words out of his mouth after greeting us: “I’m so tired”.  These 3 words set the tone for the whole live.  The man is exhausted!  Conquering the world requires a lot of energy.  Especially when it’s done in the span of about 10 days.  He looks absolutely toasted. Well, toasted and sick. Imagine having to do all this while sick. And suffering from insomnia to top it all off.

He stares at the camera for a while, my guess is he at first is zoned out and starts reading comments that are popping up (to himself). 

“I’m sleepy”.

“I have to wash up.”  This is I think one of the things he absolutely hates doing at the end of the day.  I get it.  I will be honest, I have had many a day that I have said fuck it I’m so tired I’m going to bed with all my make up on, only to wake up in the morning looking like a raccoon.  I feel you JK.

Almost immediately he starts dealing with the usual stupid comments.  I don’t think the man could be any clearer when he says “Don’t call me Ian”   with a slight chuckle. You know the one he does when he’s really just over it but is still trying to be polite?  Hasn’t he said this before?  Like many times.  But of course there are those who refuse to believe that he might actually really not like being called Ian because they just keep on doing it.  It’s almost as if they care more about their needs and what they want to say then about how it makes JK feel……hmmmm.  Yeah, do we really have to ask ourselves that question?  Of course they care more about their own wants and needs.  If they actually cared about JK’s needs and wants we wouldn’t be getting the “Ian” comments, or the “speak English” comments, or the “touch your nose” or “why aren’t you acknowledging my comment?” and so on and so forth.

Our ever polite JK flat out says don’t call me Ian and then it’s almost like an instant response to dial back the intensity with a little laugh.  But the message is still loud and clear.  He doesn’t like that name.

Then we get “Really” followed by him looking away from the camera in an uncomfortable way for a few moments.  Maybe he was wishing that all those stupid ass Ian comments would magically vanish.

And yet, once again ignoring his wishes later on in the live someone pulls the “Kor-Ian” joke.  Huh huh huh…

“I really want to sleep early today.  I guess I’ve been having insomnia lately.  I can’t fall asleep. I’m so sleepy, but I can’t sleep.  I can’t fall asleep.”  Our energizer bunny has never been good at falling asleep and I’m sure with his crazy schedule around the release of Seven it’s been even tougher.  Oh, and let’s not forget that when Jimin is not available that complicates things for him even more.  When you are used to sleeping with your partner next to you and then your schedule changes and doesn’t allow for that, it can be very difficult to sleep! Also, did anyone mention neuro divergent?

Next he reassures us that he ate dinner.  What are we, his parents?????  Long pause and drumming of the fingers on the table.  Seems like he is waiting for a good question to answer.  Doesn’t look like it’s going to happen so eventually he says  “I hung up lights in front”.  He’s taking charge of the conversation because he can’t count on us.

He starts talking about the TikTok Live.

How when he turned it on something weird kept popping up and can he turn it off (he’ll come back to this).

The man is tired!  He’s going to finish his drink and go to bed. 

Then he starts looking around his apartment saying it’s such a mess and he needs to clean it and throw out all the useless things.  (around 5:00 min. mark). First off, never come to my house JK cause you’d be horrified and from what we’ve seen of his place there’s not much there to throw out so I’m not really sure what he’s talking about?  There is barely anything left (it’s almost as if he’s been slowly moving things out 😊).  Well, unless if he’s talking about all the old dorm furniture, including very possibly that TV that doesn’t seem to work properly, given that sooner rather than later there will be a brand new home to be moving into, and we’ll be doing that, I must assume, not with old dorm furniture.

Now back to Tik Tok “I can’t turn it off? Then don’t send it.  Why do you send that?  Don’t send it.  No!  I can just not do it” – sounds to me like he is talking about ARMY sending him gifts during his Tik Tok lives.  He’s asking ARMY not to do that anymore and wondering why it’s being done in the first place.  And him saying he can just not do it…does that mean no more Tik Tok lives if he continues to get gifts?  People, hear the man and stop sending him gifts!!!!! 

“Everyone! The cold didn’t die out, but it came back again.  So I went to the hospital yesterday.  Colds are so severe this time around.  It’s so annoying” (said twice).  When something is important enough, he’ll repeat it even over several lives if necessary (don’t call me Ian).  JK gets distracted by the refrigerator.  He says it’s loud whenever he does a live broadcast. 

***Observation about JK.  The only one who can truly hold his attention is Jimin.  If Jimin is not there, you can guarantee he will be distracted; this includes his live.  He is easily distracted.  Well, unless JM is there, or on screen.***

He’s asked if he is resting to which he replies: “I don’t have a few days to rest. I’m busy.”  (6:20 mark)  Back to ARMY assuming the parent role…when will people realize the man is 25 years old!

JK goes back to talking about his cold. Says he’s getting stressed.

Then says “yes don’t send that on tik tok.  Buy and eat something delicious.  I don’t know how much that is.  But don’t do it (shaking his head and hand at the screen). I shouldn’t do tik tok live.

Since then I think he turned off the gift option, so perhaps that will allow for more TikTok lives in the future?

“I’m not in great condition. I just wanted to see you, so I came”.   

So, when he is not feeling well, he comes to ARMY to help him feel better.  We’ve heard that from him so many times, army are a source of comfort to him. 

He is being honest with us.  He makes a point in repeating this time and time again.  When he wants to drive in a message he tends to do that.  Tell us on repeat.  That he loves us.  That we are a source of comfort to him.  That he wants to be our friend.  That he’s not in touch with Tae.  That he has no use for his computer.  That he’s not gaming anymore.  That he’s not going to game ever again (yet to come).  Hammering in, repeating, sending a message.

And then he’s back to his house being a mess.  He says he should clean it when he has a day off as he is looking around in disappointment.  Again, don’t ever come to my house!  Also, can he not afford a cleaner?  Like seriously.

He says his house looks clean but it’s a storage room (ahm…yes?  The old dorm storage room I’d say).  It’s curious that he uses the words storage room to describe his apartment.  Why use that term? This is coming from someone who supposedly had a mattress laying in each room of his house in the past. What makes the apartment look like a storage room then? Like I said, could it be the dorm stuff being used/stored there? Yet another piece of the puzzle as to Brunnen being a temporary crash pad and not an actual HOME?

He says he has to take medicine but he’s too lazy.  Lazy is not a word I would ever use to describe JK.  Being neuro divergent myself (@dgtn), when I think of things I have to do, if it isn’t something I am excited about or want to do, it very quickly falls to the bottom of my to do list.  Sometimes even gets forgotten.

In between yawns he tells us that he went to the company today briefly because of his schedule.  And while he was there, he ate and he should’ve taken his medicine but he didn’t.  See here he says he forgot to.

Now it’s time to watch tv but sadly the network isn’t working for him.

So the house is a mess and the network is shot.  He asks what is wrong with this house?  LTE isn’t working and neither is the internet!

Now he’s going to fiddle with the tv and see if he can magically make it work.  At one point he is actually side eyeing the tv.  Maybe I should try that next time too.  The TV is still not working and now he’s getting stressed (there’s that word again).  Next thing he’s off screen talking to something asking what is wrong with you.  When all else fails…..reboot.  Still nothing, and now he starts smacking the remote on his leg. (after 4 minutes of trying).  Around 6 minutes into trying almost everything he decides the tv doesn’t work after the last rain fall and he needs to get rid of it or something with a little giggle.

Now back to ARMY.  He says thank you to ARMY for worrying about him.  He starts laughing when someone says he should drink warm water instead of iced water. He proclaims that he will always choose iced.

And now he’s back to the tv again, saying it’s the house’s fault not the tv and he’s gonna try something else.

“I get pretty determined” ….. no kidding JK!  Now where have I seen him be determined before….let me think….oh yes….Jimin!

Finally, after about 11 minutes he decides it’s useless to keep trying.

Back to ARMY again.  Now he’s making a peace sign to show that he saw a comment and then starts making bubbles in his water.

He reads “can I see the lip spike?”  Doesn’t understand what that means.

***observation.  He really really wants to spend time with ARMY but is having a hard time finding comments worth responding too.  It’s all about the friendship.  Talking with us.  Having a meaningful conversation with us.  And when he doesn’t find that in the comments, he goes to tv and that’s not working either so back it is looking through comments.

Someone is asking for an air kiss (never gave one by the way).

Someone asked about his next shoot with CK to which he responds with “I don’t know”.  Cheeky JK then laughs and says “do you think I would tell you that?”  So there are limits to what JK will share with ARMY!  Good for him, start putting those boundaries in place!!!!!  “There are confidential things” – in other words I’m not going to tell you so back the fuck off!!!!

He reads that his voice makes someone sleepy to which he laughs and says it might be because he speaks so monotonously…. Ok JK, go ahead and sell yourself short.

He called out someone for asking him to infect them. To which he responds, “that is not okay”.  His polite way of saying That is seriously messed up.  Who says things like this! That may actually be the cringiest comment in this whole live.  People have zero boundaries. 

He wants to sing for us but he is not in great condition and he says he is sorry (always thinking of ARMY’s feelings).

“Bunny” he pauses with a little smirk after reading that.  My guess is he still likes his nickname.

What to do next since the tv isn’t working.  He wants to do something fun with ARMY and it’s pretty obvious he’s bored with all the stupid comments. 

He says the house is ridiculous cause nothing works … sounds like he might be used to being somewhere where everything does work…

He says he can’t fall asleep with us on this live because he needs to wash up.

Now we have JK personal trainer answering questions about diet and exercise. 

“I’m on a diet lately.  What’s the best exercise? Cardio is good for diets. But if…if you run to much it’s bad on your knees.  It could be too much.  There are cardio exercises that are less harsh on your knees.” He makes a rowing motion with his arms and says this is good.  My guess is he is talking about an elliptical machine.  “In the house, there’s the one where you grab on and the arms and legs go together, right?” Was this a slip of the tongue?  Which house? Whose house? Or did he mean the gym?  Yeah, not buying the last one, and we saw that he doesn’t have an elliptic at Brunnan.  I’m going with slip of the tongue.  Same slip of the tongue that RM had in their LA live back way when he was talking about the café they have next to their home.  All signs are pointing at a certain home of which we only got to see the gaming room and part of the lounge room…

Well, at least that was more interesting than the Ian jokes or the “infect me” comment… Also, maybe if I had JK as a personal trainer I’d actually be excited to go to the gym regularly.  Well, that after being totally ashamed of the state I’m in to start with…

“We’re family” comment.  He replies with a hmmm. And a small head shake.

Family, friends, all good. Just as long as it’s not bf or husband.  Oh, and not oppa either.  Yuck.

And back to the issue of the tv again.  It seems someone asked him why it doesn’t work.  He talks about being in the mountains so Wi-Fi doesn’t consistently work.  And he fought with the Wi-Fi ahead of time today because he knew he was going to be doing the live. (was this planned?  Knowing he’s in Brunnen alone and going live for army?)  He talks about turning over the house once (I’m thinking he means turning it over once and for all and being done with it) he says it’s too stressful and he can’t live this way.

On to the Seven CD cover and the words overlapping.  He says it’s for real and on purpose.

Comments he’s reading:

I haven’t been working out much lately.

Even if I wanted to, he can’t listen to much music right now so what do I do?

He asks what does “air kiss” mean? Now we get flirty JK.  He says it’s not a hand kiss and asks if its’ this and shows a kiss. (around 29 minute mark).  Then he laughs and says “Do you like that.  Isn’t talking like this better?”   Naughty JK!!!

Now he’s wondering if an air kiss is in fact a whistle!  Then he finally figures it out!  A kiss with your hand to your mouth!  “That’s Jin’s signature!” (30 minute mark)

“I can’t sing cause I have a sore throat” … all in English.  He actually says cause, but it’s translated as because.  I love how he very properly uses English slang by saying “cause” instead of “because”. 😊

Remember when I talked about the gaming and said “yet to come”?  Well here we are, once again with the computer.  He’s asked if he sold his computer as he had mentioned he was going to do on a previous live.  He’s not going to sell it, just get rid of it.  He doesn’t use it anymore, just uses a laptop for work.  He says he’s never going to play games. 

***observation…was that his way of telling us he does not game with Tae and/or the woogas anymore?????  First time he said he’s not using his computer anymore my thought was, well he’s gaming at JM’s.  But this here, it’s the second time he’s said he’s not playing games anymore, and this time it’s with an exclamation mark.  NEVER.  And do we remember what we said about him repeating messages he wants to get through?  Hammering them in.  Repeating them. Yep.  Interesting.

And today, after the premiere crap yesterday it is making even more sense. JK was invited to that premiere. JK did not show at the premiere. JK could have had a schedule that prevented him from going, that is true. Could have also 'missed' it intentionally. Not wanting to show up at the premiere. A choice made. Just like the choices made answering the Tae comments setting people straight or the choice to repeat he's not gaming anymore.

Topic of religion:

“I don’t have a religion.  They’re Christian on my dad’s side. And Buddhist on my mom’s side.  There was nothing like that since my time.  Nothing was forced either.  That’s why I have no religion.” 

“They’re Christian on my dad’s side.” – as in his dad family, but most likely not his dad.  He’d say his dad is Christian, not use that wording about his dad’s family. Same with his mom.  Parents simply must not be religious, hence the home not being religious either way.

*** Was this his way of debunking the bullshit rumors about him and Yubi?  I applaud you JK!!!

He tells people if they are hungry during the live broadcast to go ahead and eat!! 

***observation: Why are people constantly asking him for his permission to do things!!!! Maybe because he asks them if he can go to the loo as well?  Lol.

Now he’s talking about his jacket asking ARMY if they like it.  He says he’s been wearing it a lot lately and there is a long and short version of it.  He wore the short sleeve version when he did the dance challenge with Mingyu.  He goes on to say he should’ve bought several of them!

Ok, so we know it’s a brand he’s been wearing lately.  JM as well.  We also know that JK has the tendency to buy multiples of things he likes.  Hint to bf to buy in multiples next time?  Lol.

Now the album:

He’s not sure when it’ll come out. (34:30 mark) He’s got to try something…. Curious!!!

Someone says they had a nice dream about him and his response: “really”.  That’s it, nothing else.  I felt like this was his way of acknowledging the comment and then dismissing it.  Again … Kinda cringey.

He’s asked about a new hobby, and he says he doesn’t have any but then he decides live broadcasts are his hobby. (around 35:00 minute mark)

***Observation.  He is SO damn tired at this point.  You can tell he is fading and needs to go to sleep.

His current favorite food is Perilla oil makguksu (buckwheat noodles).  They always turn out good for him! The colder the better! (36:00 mark)

He won first place again!  Thank you!  Our always gracious JK bows his head and says thank you twice.  And a third time 😊

Now we get someone saying that they can’t understand his live because they don’t speak Korean.  (38:46 mark). Good lord, here we go again…His response in a nutshell…it’s hard for him to understand English so perhaps we can both study the languages and learn together.  “Let’s all study.  You should study Korean.  Our Korean, please study it.  It’s also tough for me.  How frustrated must I be as well? Try starting Korean!”

***Observation:  This man is so done with all this speak English bullshit.  He is Korean!!  That is his native language.  He is learning English but would love for people to meet him halfway.  You know that mutual respect that he has been talking about more recently.  That respect that he is looking for from ARMY.

So now we’ve come to that point.  He wasn’t intending on doing the live for that long.

Sleeping for him is hard, he will close his eyes for about 4 hours and fidget the whole time.  He’s going to go wash up and if he wakes up, he’ll come back.  But don’t wait up for him!!!!

Well, I guess he fell asleep cause he did not come back live again that night 😊

Before I end this let's talk about the necklace a second here. It's dark and the video quality is not great to say the least, but he is wearing the necklace with the ring, and it does look like the same one he's wearing in his live the next night (or morning after next night, depending on your pov, lol). And although the chain seems to be different than JM's in Like crazy, that ring, it looks pretty identical. Anyway, something that will be discussed in next post about next live, which I have not yet gone to see, because I really need to brace myself for that 2.5 hr. live (silently crying inside).

And to think that feeling this way JK went on stage the next day and performed with Yoongi. And to top it all he was so hard on himself for forgetting some of Burn it lyrics. I do hope that he is allowing himself some time to rest and heal at the moment. Probably not. But here's hoping.

[magioftheseas]

The Capital Magical Defense Force

For @oumota-events

DAY 1: Magical Boys AU

Rating: T​+

Warnings: Violence, blood, death mentioned, darker implications. Yeah it’s one of those magical au. The daaaaark subversions.

Notes: This is the longest one because we’re starting off with a big bang~ It’s not that long though. It’s just not a ficlet unlike the others. I did really enjoy writing this though. It’s a pretty...fun...au. Yeah. Haha.

Ao3 Link

In just about every world, there are unseen forces to make sure a system works a certain way. That the cogs in the machine turn without fail and that any disturbances are dealt with promptly. These unseen forces can be mundane and dull—but they can also be fantastical...while still incredibly dull.

In this instance, there are two worlds. The dull, mundane one and the dull, fantastical one. The only way to transverse is through contracts between the respective denizens, and it turns out that said contracts are necessary to keep everything in order.

There are benefits, truly. If one world collapses, the other is taken with it. It is within everyone’s best interest that the denizens work together—even if certain manipulations need to be made. After all, the greater good is such a vague and nebulous concept. It’s more encouraging to offer personal gains.

Like, for example, keeping someone alive, be it from sickness or the aftereffects of a horrible, terrible, despairing accident. The desire to live is a powerful force shared among many, both dim-witted and intelligent. It’s an efficient deal to make, especially when the other side of the exchange is not only responsibilities, but special, magical abilities to deal with those responsibilities.

Shame, then, that one particular being blessed with those abilities, those responsibilities, that gift of survival...doesn’t seem to fully appreciate it. Certain arrangements have been made. That being has been assigned to the same areas as another being of a similar caliber, but far more keen to do what must be done.

This is as much an experiment as it is an effort to keep matters under control. Observations are to be as follows...

--

“In the name of the stars, I’m gonna kick your fucking ass!!”

The town hero known as Starboy was being filmed again. Floating about, sending so-called comet punch after comet punch. The monster squealed under the abuse, but it didn’t squeal as much as that fucking eyesore that tailed the magical boy around as he cursed colorfully under his breath.

“This jackass just doesn’t know when to quit!”

“S-Starboy-kun,” the thing whimpered. “Please watch your language! Kids idolize you!”

“Sorry!” Starboy exclaimed, focusing more on the fight thankfully. “It’s just—let me protect the city first!!”

With a battle cry, Starboy summoned all his strength for a starstorm, pummeling the monster more and more until it fizzled out of existence. Starboy was left slumped on the ground and gasping for breath, but still found it in him to whoop for joy.

Unfortunately for him, that moment of victory was short-lived.

“Geeeez, Starboy-chan, I thought you’d really get trampled this time! You didn’t even need any help!” Another magical boy landed on the scene, right next to where the monster had once been and plucking up the fragment which was all that remained.

“H-Hey!” Starboy shouted, more like wheezed. “What the hell—that’s not yours to take!”

“It’s payment for making me worry so much,” he cackled. “You really should be more careful! You don’t want to be killed in the line of duty, now do you?”

Weakened as he was from the fight, dodging Starboy lurching towards him was child’s play.

“D-Dice!!” that eyesore shrieked. “You and Starboy-kun should be working together! Why are you doing this?!”

Dice gave that thing a cold stare, but grinned in Starboy’s direction.

“Because I like you. That’s a lie. I like messing with you. Also a lie! I really—love you, Starboy-chan!”

“Quit messing around!” Starboy gasped. “Y-You—if you need those damn fragments, you don’t have to steal them! You’re a magical boy, aren’t ya?! You should be helping me defend the city! And then I’d split them with ya even!”

Aah. This guy...

“Oh Starboy-chan, I actually, truthfully loathe you,” Dice sighed.

“D-Dice!” the thing shrieked and without looking, Dice had fired a beam that knocked the pitifully contemptible creature out, much to Starboy’s dismay.

“S-SHIROKUMA...!”

Before he could go to help, however, Dice had seized the bow of his uniform, yanking him to not-quite eye level.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’d stop bothering with that thing and join me instead.”

Starboy only scowled.

“Why the hell would I join you when you act like a villain! I-If I could, I’d beat your ass too...!”

Such a remark gets Dice shoving him back, knocking him onto the ground. Starboy glared up at him defiantly, his stare only darkening as Dice grinned.

“It’s a joke, obviously!” he chirped. “After all—what sort of desperate loser would want to ally with an idiot like you?”

Starboy shouted at him, but whatever he shouted, he was already long gone. Starboy shouted again but, being the justice-obsessed type, he switched gears to muster up the strength to go stumbling after the fainted Shirokuma. Scooping the pitiful bear head-looking creature into his hands, Starboy avoided the incoming paparazzi and gracious civilians and rushed off to safety.

The ideal worker. Starboy will be a great boon of energy in the future once his limit is reached.

--

“Dice is such a fucking dick,” Kaito grumbles, rubbing ointment onto his bruises. “We’re both working for the same thing but for no reason at all, he’s self-serving and a piece of shit.”

He observes himself in the mirror, rubbing at the circles under his eyes. He’s been going at this whole magical boy hero thing for almost a year. It’s getting harder and harder, but for the sake of the city, he can’t give up. He’s its protector, after all.

Still, it’s getting difficult. His wastebasket is filled with bloodied tissue and bandages. Shirokuma, at least, is currently resting in a bucket of warm water. Dice’s attack had been as sudden as it was vicious, and for what?

“Why is he such a dick?” Kaito asks, but Shirokuma hums.

“Some people...are just bad. It can’t be helped. I’m sorry if that sounds despairing, Momota-kun.”

“Bad, huh.”

It’s not the first time he’s gotten that answer. When he describes Dice to his sidekicks, he more or less gets the same response. Harumaki even goes out of her way to call Dice a supervillain, which Shuuichi agrees to, but...

Here’s a secret that no one else knows. The crack in the foundation so painstakingly paved for black and white heroism.

Dice has saved his life more than once. When blood rushed up his throat and his knees buckled in, Dice would swoop in and let him save face. It would be passed off as Dice once again taking advantage of the situation...but it always, always happens when Kaito is facing death head-on.

Dice is a dick. A self-serving piece of shit. Possibly a supervillain.

He’s also definitely looking out for Starboy. It’s happened too consistently for Kaito to be convinced it’s unintentional.

If Dice insists on helping him, then surely he can’t be a bad person...except he still acts like a bad person most of the time.

What a headache.

“Feeling better, Momota-kun?” Shirokuma chirps up at him in that big sweet voice that Kaito can’t say no to, even when he probably should.

“Never better!”

A thumps-up. A wide grin. Doing his damnedest to pretend like his lungs don’t want to collapse in on themselves.

--

“Starboy-chan is such a fucking idiot.”

Ouma slams his chest of fragments shut. He still hasn’t figured out what the damn things do, but Shirokuma insists on collecting them so they must be important in some sense. Sure, Shirokuma says that it’s something to do with negative energy and restoring balance, blah, blah, blah—but Shirokuma is a piece of shit liar. And Ouma hates liars.

But he thinks he hates Starboy the most. Or, at least, he finds Starboy to be the most frustrating dumbass in the galaxy.

Because it’s obvious, isn’t it? It’s obvious that Shirokuma is shady as all get out. It’s obvious that there is something deeply wrong with the magical boy system. There have been so many disappearances and it’s suspicious as all get out how Starboy in particular is being worked to the bone and pushed to the brink.

There’s something seriously wrong with all of it.

Ouma just needs to figure out what before everything goes wrong.

--

To become a magical boy, one needs resolve. To encourage magical boys, a wish is often granted to sweeten—and seal the deal. Ouma’s was a cowardly, stupid wish that he’s still kicking himself for to this day, although in hindsight he should be glad it was so simple. The worthless wish to live as everyone else was dead around him.

He’s still haunted by their faces. He should’ve wished for them but couldn’t. He was targeted and tricked, and now he’s stuck. But the least he can do is make everything difficult for those monsters along the way.

Starboy—aka Momota Kaito...well. Ouma doesn’t know what his wish was, but he suspects it’s as stupidly noble and short-sighted as he’s come to expect.

Oh, yes, he knows that Starboy is Momota Kaito. Who wouldn’t know that? They look the same—although Ouma suspects that magic is at play since no civilians have made the connection. Not even Saihara Shuuichi, a would-be detective.

It’s clear, however, that Saihara-chan has noticed the effects.

“This is the fourth time you’ve had to clear your throat, Momota-kun.”

Momota clears his throat again. He musters up a laugh.

“It’s just been dry. No big deal. You worry too much.”

“Gooooooodness, Momota-kun!” Ouma crowed, skipping in. “Are you dying?! Please, please don’t die! I haven’t even gotten to tell you how much I love you!”

Momota recoils when Ouma jumps on him. Saihara shrieks in surprise but Momota only growls as he tries to shake the brat off.

“Let—GO!”

Ouma does, but not without jabbing the back of Momota’s knee and causing him to topple over. Saihara rushes to steady him, shooting Ouma quite the ugly look. Ouma shrugs that off.

“Whatever it is you’re doing is killing you,” he merely states. “So, you should stop lest you traumatize my poor Saihara-chan.”

“I...” Saihara swallowed, looking like he’d hate to agree but when it came to Momota... “You shouldn’t overwork yourself, Momota-kun.”

“I’m fine,” Momota slurred. “Totally fine. I’m a goddamn Luminary, Shuuichi...” He says he’s fine while learning into Saihara. It’s a bright sunny day. People are no doubt stealing glances, and Momota no doubt has to hide his exhausted face in his sidekick’s shoulder. It’s a good thing Harukawa isn’t here.

Ouma scoffed. Saihara shot him another glare.

“If you’re just here to mess with Momota-kun, you can leave.”

Saihara’s hands tighten on Momota. Goodness, it really is like Ouma is the supervillain tormenting the tired hero.

How boring.

Ouma turns heel, smiling as he waves them off.

I shouldn’t bother. I shouldn’t have to bother.

--

No matter how many times he’s thought that, he ends up in this situation. With Starboy exhausted on the ground and a fragment pinched so firmly between his fingers that it’s this close to embedding itself in the skin. Shirokuma floats around Starboy.

“He’s getting close,” Shirokuma is saying. “He won’t be able to take much more. How despairing. So despairing.”

Ou—Dice swats the thing to the ground. It giggles up at him.

“You can’t save him, you weren’t able to save your other friends. Just give up, Dice-kun. Give into despair.”

It’s laughing, its laughter resounding even as Dice stomps the thing to bits. It’ll just reshape itself and find Momota again. No matter what he does, he can’t get rid of it. It’s part of a damn hivemind after all.

Sighing, Dice goes to Starboy once again, and Starboy is lying there almost prone. Looking painfully pale. His breathing is shallow. At least he’s still alive.

But for how much longer? And what am I even doing wasting my time with this idiot? No matter what I tell him or how bad he gets, he refuses to back down and Shirokuma just eggs him on.

He gets down, rolling Starboy onto his back. Starboy groans and for a moment, he blearily comes to.

“Di...ce... You...again...” There’s a couple of missing words. It’s clearly difficult for Starboy to speak. He groans, eyes screwing shut. When Dice helps him sit up, he coughs and there’s a thin stream of blood that trickles down his chin. “U-Urgh...hurts bad.”

“Well, yeah. You don’t take breaks, idiot.” Ouma tutted him. “Some of the monsters you take are mooks. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

“S-Shuuut,” Starboy slurs. He coughs again. “I’m...s’posed to be...a hero. A-A... Luminary.”

It’s because of shit like this that made it was so easy for Ouma to find Momota in the first place.

And Starboy—fucking laughs.

“Even through that stupid mask of yours, I can tell you’re disproving.” He musters up a bit more strength to speak, for all the good that’s doing him. “You’re really worried, huh?”

“I don’t trust Shirokuma,” Dice said simply. “You shouldn’t either.”

Starboy swallows. No doubt swallows back blood. He sucks in his breath. He shakes. He tries to shake his head specifically. Ends up slumping against him. Dice isn’t as gentle with him as Saihara was, but Dice still has little choice but to help him up.

“Stay with me,” Dice ordered. “You’re not allowed to die.”

He’s wasting his breath. Starboy’s definitely going to die at this rate even if it’s not today. All because—

“I’m a hero,” Starboy is slurring. “Heroes don’t—take breaks...they don’t leave people to die.”

“You’re not a hero,” Dice snapped. One step at a time. “You’re just an idiot.”

“It’s not...not about trust...” Starboy huffs at him next. “Not that...you’d understand that... Ouma.”

Dice doesn’t pause. Far from it.

...idiot.

Ouma Kokichi wonders if it’s a coincidence that he and Momota ended up in this situation together.

...

That’s right. Momota Kaito is going to bring you down. The hero! The Luminary! Won’t that be the Ultimate Despair?

(That’s how she would respond.)

Ouma Kokichi, always so close and yet so far, can’t focus on that right now. He has to save the life of a dying man after all. The results are sure to be favorable.

And yet, also so very—predictable.

Boring.

[pocket-void]

A Cup of Coffee

A/N: I am so incredibly relieved to have finished this, but anyways! This is the second fic for Smaller Sides to Life, and I hope it’s alright. (Might make a mini list for that eventually) ^///^ I feel better about this story after thinking about it, and honestly I’m pretty content! Thank you and I hope you have a lovely day/night. u///u

Pairing: Loceit Words: 3596 Content: Flustered Janus because it just kind of turned out that way akjefabekf, it’s mostly Janus’ POV, there’s like a handful of swear words, it is fully light hearted u///u Summary: Janus and Logan always share the kitchen in the morning, being the earliest ones to rise. They never really talked, nor were they ever close, but it turns out that maybe they both have wanted to be.

Google doc if you like reading Cambria font or something, since I haven’t quite figured out Ao3 and don’t know if I ever will. >///< Also I believe uh, @sophiexteresa you wanted to be tagged...?

“Tssss...ouch.”

Sometimes a morning is about as good as a cup of coffee.

Some days it’s rich, fulfilling, and satisfying; a perfect and refreshing way to start the day. A cup that wakes you up with a gentle spreading warmth and wraps you in its delicate aroma that soothes your mind.

Other times however, it’s bitter, bland, and too watered down to really be properly enjoyed, resulting in a disgusting aftertaste that lingers just at the back of your throat; a constant reminder of what could’ve been, a better cup of coffee. It’s doubly worse when the coffee is not only bad, but also way too hot. The only possible benefit of the harsh sting that comes from the first sip is that it completely numbs the taste buds, effectively nullifying the admittedly awful flavor of the beverage, which of course will inevitably come creeping back regardless because there never truly is an escape from the shame and disappointment that is failing to make something as easy as a cup of joe. 

Perhaps the simple truth was just that Janus was not very good at making coffee. He was never going to admit that, obviously. Heavens no, he’d rather down another cup of scalding bean water before that ever happened. It’s not like he’d be able to taste it right now anyways, with his stupid numb mouth and all. Still, the fact that he couldn’t seem to keep something as simple as coffee consistent was definitely an odd flaw that weighed heavily on his stubborn pride, much more than any petty insult ever could. Perhaps it was the simplicity of it all that made it feel like such a thorn in his side. Hypothetically, one should be able to follow a procedure each and every morning and end up with a, if not identical, similar tasting brew each time. Well evidently that was not the case with Janus, much to his chagrin. Out of the seven days in a week, he could maybe make a decent pot only during two of those days; maybe three if he was lucky. Over the course of a year he has drunk more overheated, burnt, and under extracted cups of coffee than he could even bother to count, which he didn’t, because it was frankly beyond embarrassing at this point. If coffee wasn’t such a crucial part of his morning, he wouldn’t hesitate to label it the absolute bane of his existence. Curse those pesky grounded beans.

“...Are you alright?” A voice calls out from the other side of the kitchen. Seated at the dining table just a few feet away was Logan, halfway through a book just like he was on most days. His own empty mug casually placed atop a scattered collection of papers that no doubt contained endless notes on various facts, vocabulary words, and details of the coming week’s activities.

Of course, how could he ever forget the second most embarrassing part of his already lackluster mornings. The fact that the only other intelligent person in the living space had to watch him do this ridiculous charade every day. They’re the only ones who’d ever be awake at this time of day, as such is the fate of two people with actually proper sleeping habits. He has no clue how Logan manages to bear witness to this laughable display with a straight face, though perhaps the man was just not really paying attention. As he was, more often than not, too absorbed in hastily scribbling down notes about whatever topic had caught his attention that week to probably care about Janus constantly burning his delicate tongue over and over again. Which, to be fair, was a good thing. Wasn’t it? Totally. Right. Of course he wouldn’t want Logan to see him act a fool, why was he even asking. It’s not like anything he was doing was ever going to be as interesting as whatever the man was reading up about, as disappointing as that was. Not that it mattered currently, seeing as how for once he did manage to notice and- Aw shoot he completely forgot about that didn’t he.

Janus simply makes a face and squints, lips still slightly parted as he held his tongue between his teeth. He sighs and, with a mildly sarcastic gesture of one hand, replies with simply “Yes”.

Logan responds by raising an eyebrow, gaze still remaining firmly upon him.

Now maybe it was the way the gentle sunlight filtered through the slightly fogged up windows, or the way the dust danced under those soft golden beams, but the sight of Logan seated at the table somehow seemed to shine with an almost unfair ethereal glow. Now if only the reflection of his glasses didn’t also obscure his eyes...

Janus blinks. “Oh it’s just great.” He finally complies, rolling his eyes and ignoring the fact that he was probably just blankly staring for the past few moments. You know, like a fool. Which he was not. “Nothing big, just the usual.”

“The usual.” Logan repeats, sounding rather unimpressed. To which the snake reacts to by immediately placing a gloved hand over his heart.

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“Quite the contrary,” The other shuts his book. “I am well aware of the fact that you tend to make this mistake on a nearly daily basis.” 

The record scratch was almost audible.

“You-” Janus practically stumbles at the revelation that Logan was, in fact, actually aware of his struggles with the abominable coffee machine and its products’ disastrous burning touch. Memories of his daily mishaps slowly begin to flood his mind, and as he recalled each and every previous morning, the sound of nails being hammered into what might as well be the coffin of his tattered pride echoed louder and louder in his ears. Well it was either that, or the blood that was currently rushing through them from his suddenly racing heart. For a moment he wasn’t even sure how to respond, but the creeping heat that soon invaded his face was all too prevalent to ignore; a burning sensation rivaling even that of his tongue. 

In hindsight, he was perhaps the foolish one to not expect someone as perceptive as Logan to notice such things. Maybe it was wishful thinking at best. But surely nobody could’ve foreseen Logan ignoring the mistakes he was making even after taking note of it, right? Logan, who’s known to instinctively attempt to remedy mistakes when he saw them. Logan, who gets way too caught up in silly errors and misunderstanding figurative statements. Surely he would’ve said something, anything. But he knew? He knew and he didn’t say anything? He knew and he just watched as he made a fool of himself every day? What would’ve been the purpose of that? Was he secretly mocking him? Did he find this amusing? Janus winces. That thought perhaps stung more than it should have. 

He quickly turns away with a flick of his capelette and pretends to occupy himself with cleaning up the counter. Focusing his attention to the obnoxious yellow of his gloves rather than the gaze he still felt on his back. “Ah, so you knew.” Janus mumbles, managing to muster up his best attempt at remaining casual. “Did you even need to ask, in that case? Didn’t think you would be paying attention to whatever I was doing.” Honestly—now ain’t that a joke—he wasn’t really even sure what else he could say to that. “You have better, less mundane things to be paying attention to, no? Surely I’m nowhere near as interesting as the books you oh so love to stick your nose in.” The soft chuckle that emanated from behind just made him want to coil up into a ball and dissipate even more, but he stands his ground. He’ll just...get through the morning and subsequently try to never think of this moment ever again. He’s totally fine. 

“I wouldn’t say you aren’t interesting, Janus.”

Ok nevermind, maybe he isn’t-

“I beg your pardon?” Janus almost instantly snaps his head back towards the man at the table. A decision he immediately regrets as he locks eyes with a softly smiling Logan—gently leaning forwards as his chin rests upon crossed hands—and Janus feels his composure once again fly right out the window. 

“I said I find you interesting.”

He takes a deep breath. “Don’t repeat that, I didn’t hear you.”

“I said-”

“No no, I didn’t mean that, actually stop.”

Logan quirks his eyebrow yet again, in the snarky yet triumphant way that showed when he knew he was right about something. While the confidence was admittedly charming, Janus for one really wishes he’d stop doing that. Especially right now.

“Would you like me to elaborate?”

“As a matter of fact, I would.” No he fucking didn’t, why the hell did he say that. He nods curtly, setting his coffee cup aside as he awkwardly leans against the counter for support more than anything else. Ignoring the fact that he wanted nothing more than to leave this current predicament, he hoped to god, the bastard, that the panic settling in his bones wasn’t showing on his face.

Logan smiles a little. “Well personally, I rather enjoy our time in each other’s presence during the morning.”

He enjoyed his company? “Well I certainly wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I’ve also observed that you tend to have great difficulty making your preferred morning beverage the way you like it, correct?”

Ouch. “No?”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Logan replies without pause. “While I find your persistence admirable, I think we’ve reached the point of reasonable doubt a good while ago.”

“Mhm, yeah, great. Great. And are you just going to sit there and humiliate me, or are you actually trying to make a point?” Suffice it to say, he was not a big fan of hearing about it.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to offend or belittle you in any way.”

Janus scowls. “So what? Have my mistakes finally bothered you enough to actually speak up about it?”

“Well, I had anticipated you asking for assistance one of these days, but it seems like I have underestimated your tenacity.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he opens up one of his notebooks. “Truly a miscalculation on my part.”

“Miscalculation?” He gives a weary glance at the notebook. Logan had tons of them; each one having a different color or pattern that denoted their specific purpose. A sudden realization hits him as he gets a brief glance of the yellow cover. “Have you been observing me??”

“For the past few months, yes.” The man looks back up with a click of his pen. “Is there a problem?”

Is there a problem? How the hell does he just say these things? Of course there was a problem! How in the world was he supposed to live this down knowing that Logan didn’t just notice him every morning, but also was most likely taking excessively extensive notes? He was beginning to think that his attempts to make himself less conspicuous in the morning had subsequently led him to be less perceptive about what the other was doing instead, and that was an irony that he did not want to think about right now.

“Well I simply don’t see any benefit for you in doing that.”

That actually seems to make the other take pause. “There is no benefit.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“There is no benefit.”

“You really need to stop repeating things when I-” Deep breath Janus, deep breath. “I’m not actually asking you to- Nevermind that, why are you doing this then?”

Logan lightly taps his pen against his chin. He shrugs. “I just wanted to figure out the best method of assisting you.”

“Oh and why would you ever care to do that?”

There wasn’t an immediate answer. Just a quiet, all encompassing silence interrupted by only the occasional distant chirping of birds, as the two remained where they were in the kitchen on what was supposed to be a typical Tuesday morning.

Truth was, he didn’t want to hear it. And for one moment, just that moment, time seemed to slow. As Janus stands by the counter, with the bittersweet smell of his still cooling cup of coffee gently wafting his way and his eyes still focused on the twinkling starry blue that was Logan’s eyes, something within him was absolutely terrified. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know why. Or perhaps he did, but for the sake of himself he had never dared to acknowledge it. He couldn’t. How could he? His world sat upon an ever delicate balance, and he was not one to step towards any risk of tipping that scale. So he never did. As much as he wishes he could. To be important. To be just a few feet closer. To be just one seat away. To be sitting at that table, silently listening to Logan rant about the latest book he oh so loved to stick his nose in, and to take a sip out of a cup that was not his own. As much as he wishes he could. But no, he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Yet a part of him still hopes, and he curses himself for it.

Every part of his body is telling him to get out right now. To run. To spare himself the agony being here instead of literally anywhere else. To save himself before whatever words that were about to leave Logan’s mouth completely shatters the status quo that he was already accustomed to. He knew he was hoping for too much, it was too late to take anything back, and at this point even if it were just a kind hearted gesture from a well meaning acquaintance, he didn’t think his currently pounding heart could bear the affirmation of what he already suspected. It was frankly a lose-lose situation. A situation he should’ve known better than to get himself into. A situation where he knew the best solution was just to leave.

Which is why within that moment, just one moment in which time had seemed to slow, when Janus is suddenly pulled back into reality as he now finds himself glancing upwards at Logan, who was now standing a mere two feet away. He instinctively attempts to take a step back, but his heel taps against the counter, clearly surprised at the sudden shift in positioning. Had he really been that lost in thought? Janus finally breaks away his gaze to look to the side, holding his breath as if he were bracing for whatever the other had to say next.

“Am I not allowed to?” The unexpected softness in Logan’s voice was so incredibly unfair, and it obliterated any guard that he could have ever possibly put up. 

“I- No, you just...” He inhales rather sharply. Get a grip. “Just why would you-”

“Janus.”

He looks back and suddenly they’re face to face, barely a few inches apart, and within moments he completely forgets how to breathe.

Logan laughs. He laughs. With a tenderness he has never seen etched across the man’s typically serious face. Janus stares, completely mesmerized by the beautiful yet admittedly confusing sight, and forgetting about just why he was so flustered not too long ago. He feels his hand be slowly taken into another as Logan lifts to hold it within both of his own.

“Would you mind if I made your coffee tomorrow morning?” He asks, voice barely a whisper and lips still curled in an enchanting smile.

It was a request that barely registers itself in Janus’ mind, but he quickly manages a nod after swallowing practically nothing; his mouth suddenly dry. The only thing he could focus on was just how darn close those lips were, or how deep his eyes were, or how he still smelled faintly of chamomile tea, or- “Please.” He states, with whatever remaining dignity he had left.

The other seemed pleased with the answer, and the silent understanding that was present between them felt almost too nice to be true, yet it managed to put all of his worries to rest. Part of Janus wishes time could stop right here, with his hand delicately held between Logan’s and his heart quietly swelling within his chest; the other part promptly snaps him out of that ridiculous fantasy to focus back on what was actually happening. Logan hadn’t yet moved from where he was.

“Uh…” Janus lightly bit his lip, the next thing almost paining him to suggest. “Could you perhaps...let go now?” 

“Of course.” Logan says, loosening the hold on the other’s hand. An admittedly disappointing gesture, but it’s not like anyone was going to admit that. “There are still tasks that we must both attend to.” But before he steps back to return to his seat, he gently leans in to lift Janus’ hat and plants a soft kiss upon his forehead. The expression Janus showed as a result is surely priceless as his eyes grow wide and heat instantly flares across the rest of his face yet again. He couldn’t even get a word of protest out before Logan walks away after a small pat on his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“...Right.” He replies, and promptly excuses himself from the kitchen as fast as humanly possible. He genuinely didn’t think he could handle staying there for much longer. His head was still spinning from everything that had happened, and the simple promise that was to be fulfilled the next morning sat heavily on his mind for the rest of the day. Did he know what he was doing? Was it on purpose? Was he allowed to believe in what he hadn’t thought was possible before? Janus places a hand over his forehead, the feeling of warm lips touching against his skin still rather fresh in his memories. Maybe, he could allow himself to enjoy it? What a dangerous thought, but ever so enticing. Here he thought that he could avoid it forever, and eventually it would be forgotten. Like a fool. Which he just might be.

It was something he’d probably never escape, but was it a curse? Or a blessing? Or perhaps it was neither, since neither of those things exist. But alas these feelings did, and if he couldn’t throw them away, then he’d have to keep them.

The next morning inevitably came, and with great anticipation Janus pauses a few steps before entering the kitchen. He places a hand over his heart, as if the action would somehow manage to soothe its wild rhythm, and takes a deep breath. He enters, hesitant and still groggy from just getting up, completely not knowing what to expect.

Logan was there, as usual, sitting at the dining table, papers scattered all across the surface and eyes attentively scanning through the pages of yet another book. It felt almost like a crime to disturb his concentration, but a new detail catches Janus’ eyes. A second cup, placed but a foot away from the other on the table; the area around the mug being mildly less cluttered as if to make room. 

Janus finally steps forward to make his way to the table, his arrival being politely greeted with a “salutations” from the other, and immediately given an offer to sit.

“Here?” He gestures, giving a tentative glance towards where he was used to standing. A comfortable distance away, by the counter. But now that safe haven seemed so far away.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that he pulls out a chair and takes a seat. His eyes wander towards the various papers that cover most of the table’s surface. Notes, facts, and schedules, just like he always imagined. The confirmation of being correct about something never fails to amuse him. He sneaks a peek at Logan, whose gaze also shifts up from his book without lifting his head.

“Reading about coffee today are we?” Janus chuckles.

“There can be a surprising amount of depth to any subject.”

“Hmm.” Janus hums. “...Tell me about it.”

And so he does.

While the two sit in tranquil harmony, with Logan explaining the intricacies of coffee, from its history to its benefits to its various methods of consumption, and Janus patiently listening while staring down at the drink that was poured for him beforehand, in the cup that he has always used each and every morning before. Amidst the pleasant atmosphere and the comforting voice of another, he eventually takes a sip.

It was perfect.

“I’m pleased you like it.” Logan comments, noticing the content expression on his face.

“You really did your research huh.”

“It took a few months. It was difficult to gather data when there was no consistency in the methodology that you used.”

Janus coughs and glances away again, but he hears the small chuckle underneath Logan’s breath.

“I can walk you through the process one day if you’d like.”

“I think I’d rather leave it to you.”

“A wise course of action.”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” Janus mumbles, smiling a little to himself and completely accepting defeat in that regard. 

Sometimes a morning is about as good as a cup of coffee. And now, sitting here at the table under the gentle light of the rising sun, perhaps every following morning could be similarly warm, fulfilling, and just as perfect as well. 

After all, every cup was now going to be just the way he likes it.

[rinkunokoisuru]

I don’t normally write fan fics, not to mention actually share them, so I’m super nervous, but whatever, here we go This is based on the comic by @horrendoushag because I saw @lexosaurus‘s tags. Also some inspiration from some other fics seeing as I’ve read a lot of them.

Danny paused his game of Doomed and slid his over-sized set of headphones to his neck with a sigh at the knock on the door. He wasn't expecting Sam or Tucker to come over, and he knew that Jazz was at the library working on her thesis, so that really only left one or both of his parents as the one responsible. He swung his chair slightly towards the door as the knocking continued. "Yeah?" Danny called, voice raised. "Danny, can we come in? We need to talk with you." As suspected, it was his parents. Yes he'd forgotten to clean the lab again, and yes he'd only barely passed most of his classes, but this wasn't anything new for him. Besides, classes had only just ended for the semester, so it was unlikely that that was what they wanted to talk about since report cards hadn't even been sent home yet. Mentally preparing himself, he decided that he'd just have to let them come in and talk his way out of whatever it was they had to say or just accept the in-coming grounding. "Uh. Yeah, I guess." His mother opened the door and stepped to the side to allow his father space to enter the room.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Danny asked nervously. Maddie's lips were pulled tight and if the hood of her hazmat suit had been pulled back, Danny was sure the fire in her eyes would have been enough to make him shrink even further into his seat. Glancing towards his dad's more expressive face in hopes that he had just misinterpreted, Danny could see that he was just upset as his mother, though with a hint of confusion mixed in as well. "Would you care to explain this, young man?" She held up her phone for Danny to see the screen. From where he was sitting, he couldn't really see what the fuss was about. "It's, uh, twitter?" he shrugged before crossing his arms. "Danny-boy," his father stated sternly. "Alright, alright. Let me see," he grabbed for the phone. As he browsed through what his mother had passed to him, Danny felt his stomach flop in a mix of fear and embarrassment. "Well, Danny?" she tapped her foot impatiently. "What's all this about you dating that menace, Phantom?" Danny winced and sunk further into his chair. He never expected his parents would go on twitter in the first place, let alone find his profile. Phantom had had his own twitter profile for only a week before he'd been assaulted by people claiming ghosts weren't real, that they were his biggest fans, that he was scum that needed to be eradicated, people asking if he would date them, and other uncomfortable comments. Danny had learned to either ignore them or play along and quickly became known for his shitposts. The fact that he was dating himself had started as just a joke with Sam and Tucker to try to aggravate Wes, it had been inconceivable at the time that his parents would ever find those tweets. Yet here they were. "I can explain?" He could not explain. "Well let's hear it then, Danny," his mom replied, raising an eyebrow. The impatient foot tapping continued as he stared at the bedroom floor. He brought his hand up to rub at his neck, a nervous habit of his, as he wracked his brain for an excuse. The uncomfortable silence dragged on for what felt like hours to Danny, though was only about a minute before his dad broke it. "Danny," Jack soothed, placing his sizable hand on his son's significantly smaller shoulder, "we understand that you're getting older and starting to make a lot of your own decisions, but your mother and I are worried about you. It just isn't safe to spend so much time around such a dangerous ghost." "Phantom isn't dangerous." "I know Phantom is very popular with kids your age, but he is dangerous. He pretends to protect the town, but who knows what he could do if he decided to stop faking it," Maddie added. Danny jerked away from his father's hold and jumped out of his chair, only barely able to stop his eyes from glowing an unnatural ectoplasmic green. "No! Jazz and I keep telling you! Phantom doesn't pose a threat to humans." Jack narrowed his eyes with skepticism, and Danny was sure his mother was doing the same beneath her goggles. Letting out an exasperated huff, Danny continued, "You guys are too caught up in your 'research' to even consider that a ghost could be good. When was the last time you even talked with a ghost?" "Danny..." his mother started. Both of his parents had heard this same argument from Jazz plenty of times by now. "No, listen. You never listen. Phantom isn't going to hurt me!" "You can't know that." "Yes! I can!" "And how is that!" Maddie's lips impossibly pressed even thinner, her whole stance becoming more aggressive. "Because I'm Phantom!" His parents seemed to deflate at this outburst. As soon as he realized what he'd said, his hands flew to his mouth and he allowed the cold rush of invisibility to run over him. ---- It had been two weeks now since Danny had accidentally revealed to his parents that he and Phantom were one and the same. While the experience had been less than pleasant at the time, in hindsight it had been a pretty stupid way for his secret alter ego to come out. Jazz had come home not long after the confrontation. When she found out what had happened, she had some words of her own and stormed out to find Danny. As soon he returned safely, the whole family sat down to have a civil discussion about the news that Danny had been half ghost for almost two full years before they found out. To Danny's relief, his parent's had instantly accepted him, though that didn't stop them from feeling like they were at fault for what happened to him. Most of those two weeks since the outburst had been spent assuring his parents he was okay and that he didn't blame them. In fact he liked being part ghost. All things considered, things went much better than he thought they ever would have. Though that didn't stop things from being a little awkward when it came to Danny using his powers. ---- Danny and his friends slid into their usual booth at the Nasty Burger, Sam making sure to sit as far from the trays with meat as she could lest her stomach turn at the smell. Tucker lifted his Nasty burger and took a large whiff before shoving it into his mouth. "Sho how are your parentsh adjushting to you being Phantom?" "Please swallow your food before talking, Tucker," Sam rolled her eyes. Danny picked up one of his french fries and mindlessly dipped it into his ketchup. "I think they're doing alright. I'm still kind of hesitant to transform in front of them though." "I understand that. You basically lied to them for the past two years. It's going to take time for them to be completely comfortable with your ghost half," Sam said, picking at her slightly wilted salad. "Ugh, you sound like Jazz," Danny groaned, tossing his uneaten fry back onto the tray. "I know it's going to take time for them to get used to it." "They did say they want to support you, dude," Tucker gulped down the rest of the greasy burger. "Maybe you just need to expose them to a little more of your ghostly side," he wiggled his fingers for emphasis before pilfering some of Danny's fries, "Just use your powers around the house more often, man. Think of all the things you can do without worrying about getting caught now!" Danny glared briefly at the fry thief before turning back to his food with a sigh. "Maybe you have a point, Tuck." "Of course I do." "Maybe talk to Jazz about this plan first, just in case." "Better point," Danny replied before smacking Tucker's wandering hand away from his food once again. "Ouch! You weren't even eating those!" "They're still my fries." For the rest of their lunch, the group of teens mostly chatted about what movies they were looking forward to, which ghosts had been most annoying lately, and what other plans they had for their summer vacation. Eventually though, the trio had to go their separate ways. Sam's mother had plans to drag her daughter to some sort of benefit for the umpteenth time and Tucker had promised a group of his online friends that he'd help them out in some new game they were playing, so Danny waved goodbye and headed home by himself. It wasn't long before he'd arrived at his own doorstep and made his way upstairs. Danny considered dropping into bed and taking a nap before some ghost inevitably dropped in, but found himself wandering over to Jazz's room instead. Seeing the door was ajar, he quietly rapped on the door frame until his sister looked up from whatever she was working on. "What's up, Danny?" Jazz asked, a small smile on her face as she scooted her chair away from her desk so she could look at her brother while they spoke. He shuffled into the room and leaned against the wall. It took hardly any time for Danny to explain what he had discussed with Sam and Tucker, leaving Jazz looking pensive. "It actually seems like a pretty good idea to me," she finally said. "I think it might be good for all three of you. Especially since Mom and Dad aren't trying to shoot you anymore," she smirked. Danny let go of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks, Jazz." "No problem, little brother," she smiled gently. Danny sent back a small smile of his own and left the room, allowing Jazz to return to her work. --- "Danny?" "Yeah, Mom?" he called from the living room. "Can you help me with dinner, sweetie?" Rather than gather the energy to stand from his relaxed position on the couch, Danny tucked his phone into his pocket and allowed the cold feeling at his core to overtake him. There was a bright flash of light and suddenly where there had sat the blue-eyed, black-haired Fenton, was instead the blindingly bright white hair and toxic green eyes of his Phantom form. Now was as good a time as any to start using his powers around his parents more often. He let the weightlessness that came more naturally in his ghost form take over and lazily floated into the kitchen. "What did you need help with?" his voice echoed ominously. His mother jolted in surprise before once again composing herself. "I was just hoping you could reheat the leftover mashed potatoes to go with dinner," she started hesitantly. "I'm not interrupting a fight with a ghost, am I?" "Hm? Nah," he replied.    "A-alright then." Danny hovered on over to the refrigerator and stuck the entire front half of his body inside. He soon emerged with the cold bowl of potatoes and popped them into the microwave. At least they were less likely to come to life since they'd only been in there a day or so. Maddie watched her son flit about the kitchen like this was the most normal thing in the world. She absent-mindedly cleaned up the mess from preparing the night's meatloaf and supposed that for Danny, it probably was the norm. If he'd been half-ghost for nearly two years, then it would be sillier to expect him not to use his powers from time to time. "So how long until the meatloaf is done?" Danny questioned. The microwave was still running, but rather than continue to float in various places around the room, he had instead elected to change back into his human form and play around on his phone. "Just a few more minutes." "Awesome." They settled into a comfortable silence, Danny tapping away at a game on his phone and Maddie putting the finishing touches on the sides for their dinner. The quiet was only interrupted when the shrieking of the microwave alerted them that the potatoes were hopefully done reheating. "Danny, go get your father for dinner," Maddie said as she went to take the meatloaf out of the oven. "Okay," Danny replied without even looking up from his phone. In an instant, Danny Fenton had once again been replaced by Danny Phantom. Maddie stared in wide-eyed confusion as her son bent down onto the kitchen floor and stuck his head into the basement below. Jack happened to be looking up at the clock when he saw a shock of glowing, white hair sink through the ceiling. He felt his jaw drop as his the rest of Danny's head followed. There was a moment where they stared at each other, neither saying anything. "Dinner's ready," Danny finally relayed. Jack managed to shake himself out of his stupor. "Great! Thanks, Danny-boy!" The ghostly head of his son retreated back through the ceiling. It was going to be a while before Jack and Maddie could be completely comfortable around their son in ghost form, but at least Danny got to be a little shit in the process.

[smallersocksx]

Pokemon Character Analysis V2: Iris

I wrote an analysis of Iris’ character a while ago. However, a user challenged me to go more in-depth with my analysis and I did have more points to write about Iris as well. I was able to watch episode 65 as well so I’ll be combining my opinions on the episode with this analysis.

As with all my reviews/analyses, I’ll keep them under the cut. So, if you want to keep reading, that’s great!

Introduction:

As many people that have read my previous reviews and know me, may know I am a huge fan of the Diamond and Pearl games and anime series. I will be the first to say, I know Diamond and Pearl wasn’t a perfect series, honestly, there is no such thing as a perfect series. But as a follow-up to DP, Black and White was definitely a let-down for a lot of fans, either because of completely resetting Ash’s knowledge which was honestly an insult to his DP incarnation, his travelling companions or the fact that he lost to Cameron of all people in the Vertress Conference. BW in some aspects left a lot to be desired.

Nevertheless, this post is focusing on Iris, a companion similar to Goh, a lot of fans love to hate particularly because of her infamous catchphrase “You’re such a kid.” Looking back, this was one of the things that did make me drop the series, keep in mind I was 11 when BW started airing. So, hearing a character that is meant to be the same age or younger than you say "You’re such a kid!” Over and over again, got annoying quite quickly.

However, looking back the usage of that infamous catchphrase was probably exaggerated. Whilst, working past that I still didn’t come to love Iris. Considering, Iris is meant to be one of the main characters and similar to Goh, they are meant to be written in a way that makes us want to see them grow, cheer them on and be happy when they succeed. Nonetheless, when you look at the way they are written and their development it just makes it abundantly clear that Iris and Goh are the victims of poor writing.

Iris’ Initial Characterisation:

The aspect that made me drop the series was Iris’ initial characterisation particularly the infamous phrase “You’re such a kid” which as I mentioned in the introduction, with the benefit of hindsight I can see the usage of it has been exaggerated. Nevertheless, it doesn’t change the fact that it was annoying. Especially, given when Ash meets Iris, he had defeated legendries by this point, acquired 36 badges (that’s including the Orange Archipelago badges) and defeated the Battle Frontier. Whereas Iris may have had good battling prowess and at one point had a 99-battle winning streak, but, her Axew was a newborn with hardly any battling experience and her Excadrill was refusing to listen to her.

Many people use the defence that Misty called Ash a kid yet she doesn’t nearly receive as much hate. To be fair, when Misty met Ash, he was a rookie trainer and Misty was a gym leader, so Misty at least had the position and knowledge to back her up. However, this was only an issue at the beginning of the series and the insults tend to die down, but, that initial characterisation is what stopped me from watching the series since my 11-year-old self did not have the patience for that.

Iris’ Character:

Just like every person has their flaws, every fictional character has them as well – it's what makes us human. Every single one of our favourite characters has their share of flaws that they acknowledge and eventually overcome for Dawn it was overconfidence, for May her naiveté, Serena her lack of direction, Clemont his lack of self-confidence. The list could honestly go on and on. 

For Iris, it was her immaturity. One could look at the fact, her calling Ash out on his own immaturity, her being hypocritical. However, Iris could have easily been using this as a coping/defence mechanism for dealing with that aspect of her personality.  During her time at Opelucid Academy when she was younger, Iris’ immaturity caused her to struggle with forming relationships with the other students and feel isolated. 

However, just like Dawn and to some extent Goh, Iris struggled with overconfidence in the past as well. After Iris caught Excadrill as a Drilbur, the two battled other trainers and Pokémon frequently culminating in a 99-battle winning streak that triggered Drilbur’s evolution. Iris then battled Drayden without considering the possibility that she was outmatched against Drayden and his Haxorus. Iris and Excadrill subsequently lost the battle and Excadrill closed himself off from his trainer.

In this scenario, it was a combination of Iris’ immaturity and overconfidence that resulted in Excadrill’s loss of faith in her as a trainer. As she never considered, his feelings throughout the battle. Nevertheless, overconfidence, when we meet her in the present wasn’t necessarily an issue as the battle, she had with Drayden was probably a humbling experience similar to Dawn’s losses in the Performance stages of Contests. 

The stepping stones towards Iris maturing begin in Iris and Excadrill Against the Dragon Buster! Which was honestly one of my favourite episodes of BW. Not only as Iris, opened up to Ash and Cilan, but forced her to confront her own issues with communicating and forming relationships with others. Which was honestly a refreshing twist on the rebellious Pokémon story. 

This is what makes Dragonite’s arc and disobedience all the more frustrating as I feel as though, it diminishes Excadrill’s arc and Iris’ development. As Iris, initially, didn’t understand Dragonite’s disobedient behaviour, which, to be fair, I don’t blame her as Dragonite willingly joined her party only to turn around, completely ignore her commands in battle and not even fully acknowledge her as his trainer. 

As I mentioned in the previous section, as the series went on, the insults on Ash’s maturity did die down. This could have been for several reasons, Ash and Iris understandably grew closer as they travelled, Iris began to feel more comfortable with herself and her flaws particularly after her battle with Drayden. I speculate because BW doesn’t really flesh out the characters as much as other series have in the past. 

Although, one final aspect, I find rather strange about her character is her Cryophobia (fear of the cold/ice). Iris’ logic for this fear being that Dragon-types are weak to Ice-types however as Trip pointed out Dragon-types are also weak to other Dragon-types. Yet Iris just shrugs this comment off, and, later we see her battling against other Ice-types and apparently got over this phobia in Crisis at Ferroseed Research! When she was trapped in a room with her rival’s Vanilluxe and commanded it to help them and others escape. I’m aware phobias are meant to be irrational but I have to agree with Trip that even Iris’ logic towards her phobia was a tad irrational. There is a difference between disliking something and being scared of it, as Iris, at one point had stated she disliked the cold. I understand this was probably played out for comedic aspects but it was just strange and stupid. Especially, given the fact in the games and manga adaptation, she owns a Lapras.

Moving on, to the more positive aspects of Iris’ personality. Whilst, Iris may have suffered socially with human characters, she is shown to have found it easier to form connections with Pokémon in general, not just Dragon-types. Iris’ ability to befriend Pokémon, could easily stem from the fact she grew up in a rural area of a, particularly urban region. This aspect of Iris’ character has aided her on several occasions such as Baffling the Bouffalant! Whilst lost in Bouffalant territory, Iris performed first aid on an injured Bouffalant, Iris’ kindness was later rewarded when the Bouffalant helped guide the group outside of its territory. 

Another example of Iris’ ability to empathize with Pokémon, is shown in A Village Homecoming! In which, Iris was able to calm a distressed Hydreigon with the help of her Pokémon. This was honestly, one of Iris’ best moments in the series as it reflected Iris’ growth from her ability to understand a Pokémon’s emotions to her abilities as a Dragon Master. 

In addition to her ability to befriend Pokémon with ease, Iris is shown to be free-spirited (which is probably a result of the environment she was raised in), confident in her abilities and able to speak her mind. Whilst apprehensive of Ash at the beginning, she is shown to care for him as the series continues, this can be reflected in Ash’s battle with Roxie, where Iris opted to act as a cheering squad for Ash similar to what Dawn did for him. 

Iris is shown to be an adept battler, this can be reflected in the fact she once had a 99-battle winning streak and won the Club Battle.  

Iris’ Goal:

Iris’ goal is to become a Dragon Master, however, by the end of Black and White, Iris opts to travel to Johto to battle Clair and following the conclusion of that battle she opts to follow the direction she saw Rayquaza flying. When I look at this conclusion, I’m honestly confused, I have no sense of whether or not Iris is any closer to achieving her goal. Or even throughout the series, we get no sense of how anyone who wants to master any Pokémon typing reaches their goal, a majority of type specialists typically end up in the position of Gym Leader or Elite Four. But Iris never once expressed a desire to be a Gym Leader or any higher-ranking position. Which, makes Drayden decision to choose Iris as his successor, all the more unusual to me. I suppose in one way it gives Iris a position/goal to work towards but given Iris’ free-spirited personality, having someone choose her path rather than choosing it herself feels unnatural.

Additionally, an obvious method to becoming a type specialist is catching Pokémon of the same type you want to specialize in and little more than half of Iris’ team actually consist of Dragon-types. I understand Gym Leaders having at least one alternative type to give their team diversity and cover their weaknesses. As shown by Candice owning a Medicham and Piers having a Toxtricity in his party later in the SW/SH games. But, Excadrill fits the bill more than Emolga as Excadrill is part of Steel-type which covers Iris’ team’s weaknesses to Ice and the newly introduced Fairy-types. That is not to say that I dislike Emolga or anything but it felt like she was an unusual catch.

I think if the writers did a better job as well at establishing Iris’ goals – we understand she wants to be a Dragon Master, but does she want to become a gym leader? A caretaker of Dragon-types (similar to Liza of Charicific Valley)? If they had established this from the beginning, we would have had a better understanding of the direction they wanted to take with Iris’ development.

Iris and her Pokemon:

Now, this is one aspect of Iris’ story that I felt could have definitely been written better, as I mentioned, Iris wants to be a Dragon Master, however, only 3/5 of her team are actually Dragon-types. In addition to this, throughout the series, Iris has attempted to catch Pokémon outside of her type specialities such as Ash’s Oshawott, Tepig and even Team Rocket’s Meowth. Moreover, Iris is meant to be a highly skilled trainer, yet she’s had more disobedient Pokémon than any other main character aside from Axew and Gible the rest of Iris’ Pokémon have been disobedient at some point. Which, kind of reflects poorly on her skills and character. 

Axew:

I like to think of the characters’ first Pokémon or their partner Pokémon as a mirror reflecting their growth. Take May and Blaziken, they mirror one another’s development perfectly as when Blaziken was a Torchic much like May, he was inexperienced and unsure of himself. When Torchic evolved to Combusken, at this point May had won two Contest Ribbons and began to feel confident in her Coordinating skills. Once, Torchic evolved into Combusken he developed that same level of confidence, he didn’t feel the need to compete for May’s attention and wasn’t bullied or intimidated by other Pokémon like Ash’s Corphish. Then Combusken evolves to Blaziken in the penultimate episode, once May had decided to leave the group, travel through Johto on her own and find her own battling style. At this point, May has chosen to become independent and this reflects in Combusken, her first Pokémon evolving into his final stage. My point being I like to think every travelling companions’ ace reflects their character growth and I don’t get that same feeling with Iris and Axew.

The whole point of Iris’ journey was to raise Axew into a Haxorus. For a majority of the series, Axew was Iris’ only Dragon-type and in the sixth episode, he has a dream of evolving into his final stage. After that, the idea of Axew evolving is hardly addressed. As I’ve mentioned, evolving or choosing not to evolve are one method of allowing Pokémon to develop, considering, Axew has expressed a desire to evolve, I think he should have at least evolved into Fraxure before the BW series concluded. As aside from him learning Dragon-type moves and developing as a battler, once, Dragonite’s introduced he’s kind of pushed to the sidelines and doesn’t develop any further. 

Even in Iris’ battle against Clair she opts to use Dragonite instead and develops a telepathic connection with him? (I honestly don’t know). Surely, if Iris is going to develop a telepathic bond with any of her Pokémon it should be Axew, her starter. They could have utilised the battle with Clair as a way for Axew to evolve, they could have still lost but Iris and Axew (or Fraxure) would have developed and deepened their bond. 

In Episode 65 of Journeys, just as many fans predicted Axew had evolved all the way to his final evolution, Haxorus. My only issue with this is why couldn’t he have at least evolved once during his time in BW. I think many fans would have loved to have seen the moment Axew had evolved into Fraxure and later Haxorus. 

Excadrill:

Out of all of Iris’ Pokémon, Excadrill is probably my favourite despite the fact he’s not even a Dragon-type. What I love about Excadrill, is the twist in the rebellious Pokémon story, don’t get me wrong I loved the arcs with Ash’s Charizard and Dawn’s Mamoswine but I love it when they spice up or change the formula. In this scenario, it was Iris’ immaturity and inability to understand her Pokémon’s feelings that caused Excadrill to close himself off. Excadrill’s arc was honestly one of my favourite arcs of BW, as Excadrill acted as the trigger to Iris’ character development. 

Not to mention for a while, Excadrill was Iris’ ace, understandably as in the beginning, Axew was still developing as a battler and Emolga had her little Volt Switch tactic. There’s also the fact, Excadrill helps cover Iris’ team weaknesses to Ice and later the newly introduced Fairy type also being part Steel-type, Excadrill resists Dragon-type moves. Not to mention, Excadrill helped Iris win the Club Battle, battled against Tornadus and Thundrus and drew against Drayden’s Haxorus after losing to the Axe Jaw Pokémon many years ago. Is just a testament, to Excadrill’s strength.

However, I use the phrase “for a while”, since like the rest of the Iris’ Pokémon, once, Dragonite’s introduced they are kind of pushed to the side and don’t develop any further. However, despite the lack of character development following his arc, I still love Excadrill and his story.

Emolga:

Now, Emolga is a Pokémon, I’m not sure how I feel about it. I loved her personality, but my issue is why did Iris need to catch Emolga? Emolga is an Electric/Flying-type, so she doesn’t really aid in Iris reaching her goal nor does her typing contribute strategically to Iris’ team as she doesn’t help cover any weaknesses. Also, aside from her initial disobedience when she’s first caught, Emolga doesn’t really experience any character development, she doesn’t have a character arc like Excadrill or has a rival (aside from Snivy) that she has to overcome. 

I honestly don’t have much to say about Emolga, as they never really gave her story, she just felt like an unusual catch.

Dragonite:

I will be honest; I am not a huge fan of Iris’ Dragonite. Firstly, it felt as though, the writers forgot to give her an additional Dragon-type and just rewarded her with this random Dragonite. Secondly, there is the fact, that Dragonite was disobedient towards Iris despite the fact he joined her team willingly. Thirdly, he single handedly ruins all of the character development Iris had built up to that point. During the Pokémon World Tournament Junior Cup, Iris has tantrums during her battles when Dragonite doesn’t listen to her. His continuous victories, caused Iris to be overconfident, kept using him despite the risks and was surprised when she lost. After the match, Cynthia explains Dragonite doesn’t have complete confidence in Iris as a trainer. My question ends up being, why join someone you don’t have complete and utter confidence in? Did Dragonite see some sort of potential in Iris? I honestly don’t know. I just found Dragonite’s whole arc frustrating as he completely diminished Iris’ development up to that point and undermines Excadrill’s arc.  

Iris has had some of her best moments throughout the series with the other Unovan Dragon-types such as Druddigon and Deino both of which would have been great captures for her particularly Deino as she has a Hydreigon in the games.

Also, HE. SHOULD. HAVE. LOST. TO. DAWN’S. MAMOSWINE!!!! (and I’m not just saying that because I love Dawn and her Mamoswine)

Additionally, for every trainer we’ve had so far, their ace tends to be their starter. However, with Iris at one stage it was Excadrill and later it became Dragonite. During, Iris’ battle with Clair, she develops a telepathic connection with him (I honestly didn’t understand), we’ve seen trainers communicate with their Pokémon, non-verbally but they’ve all tended to be Psychic-types, which is what makes this scenario stranger. Dragonite ends up overshadowing the rest of Iris’ Pokémon and they don’t develop any further after he joins the party. 

If the writers absolutely felt that they had to give Iris a Dragonite, they could have at least done it whilst she was in Johto since Dragonite’s pre-evolutions can be found in Dragon’s Den and Route 45. It honestly would have made more sense than giving her a Gible which isn’t even native to Johto and we haven’t even been given a hint on whether or not Gible is appearing in the next episode.

Pokémon Conclusion:

I know Iris caught a Gible and Episode 65 mentioned she caught a Goodra (which I honestly don’t why they keep giving her the same Pokémon as Ash) but I don’t know enough about either of them to write anything analytically. Generally, I tend to love certain Pokémon because of the way they are portrayed in the anime or whether they belonged to a certain character I liked. Nevertheless, a character’s Pokémon team is meant to help contribute towards their development. However, with Iris’ team it is difficult to say, Excadrill for a short period definitely contributed towards Iris’ growth, but I felt that was ruined by Dragonite’s appearance. It doesn’t help that Haxorus evolved off-screen so we don’t even get to see the build-up towards his evolution. That’s why I feel like Iris’ Pokémon could have been one aspect of her character that could have been written better.

Iris’ Rivals:

We’ve had some amazing rivals throughout the series, some of my favourite rivals include Drew, Paul, Ursula, the list could go on and on. For me a good rival is someone I’m cheering on the main character to beat, I feel disappointed when they don’t and ecstatic and proud when they do. The BW series introduced a plethora of rivals not only for Ash, even Iris and Cilan had their own rivals. 

For Iris, it was a girl called Georgia, who aims to defeat every Dragon-type trainer after suffering a defeat from a trainer at the Village of Dragons. When Georgia, is first introduced alongside Excadrill, I felt as though she was a trigger for Iris’ character development as she unintendedly triggered the events that allowed Iris to repair her relationship with Excadrill. However, it goes downhill, a rival is meant to encourage the main characters to better themselves and work hard to eventually defeat them. Yet, I feel like Iris does this more for Georgia rather than the other way around. Georgia actually captures Pokémon that have an advantage over or resist Dragon-types, rightly complains about Iris’ lack of Dragon-types despite aiming to be a Dragon Master and Georgia actually lives up to her goal by defeating several Dragon-types during tournaments.

If Georgia appeared more frequently and actually battled Iris (because in 2 out of the 3 tournament arcs, she’s knocked before even gets to battle Iris) we would engage with her more as a rival especially if she was someone difficult to defeat. I liked the fact that each of the main characters receiving a rival, however, in story-telling wise they fall flat as after her introductory episode Georgia doesn’t help progress Iris’ character development. Moreover, the characters’ main rivals tend to gain the most development, yet, Georgia hardly develops, she doesn’t accept her losses unless it is a Dragon-type or she blames her losses on circumstances such as the battlefield. Georgia’s pettiness and immaturity, honestly, reminds me of Harley and Ursula.

However, aside from Georgia, characters such as Drayden, Cynthia or Clair I don’t really see as rivals. Firstly, I don’t see Drayden as a rival, I’m not even sure what he’s meant to be, as Iris appears intimidated by him following their battle at the Village of Dragons and her experience at Opelucid Academy. He was the one that recommended Iris go on a journey rather than attend school. Considering, Iris is a child, being treated like this she would get the impression that Drayden doesn’t like her, which, is no wonder she is shocked when he announces his decision to choose her as his successor. In the games, they are shown to be close, as Iris affectionately refers to Drayden as “Grandpa”, I think if they transferred that relationship into the anime, it would have made Drayden’s choice of selecting Iris as his successor feel a lot more natural. 

Cynthia is definitely someone I didn’t see as a rival for Iris, however, given that Iris is a champion now that might change. However, I’ll write with the material I have, it was clear Iris looked up to Cynthia due to her ace being part Dragon-type (which may be why the writers felt the need to give her a Gible). Aside, from their battle and giving Iris advice on her relationship with Dragonite. The two hardly interact, to me Cynthia was more of an inspiration or role model for Iris to look up to.

Finally, we have Clair, who I feel is more of a mentor and role model for Iris rather than a rival. I understand the two had a battle in the BW special, however, that battle felt more like a learning experience for Iris and deepened her bond with Dragonite. To be fair, Clair is an ideal role model for Iris in comparison to Cynthia (despite being a champion) Clair actually specialises in Dragon-types and she is respected amongst other Dragon-users. Although Clair isn’t a rival (at least not in my eyes) as a mentor she helped Iris grow during their brief encounters, the fact that Clair had a cameo in Journeys, shows her contribution towards Iris’ development.

Despite, the fact, BW definitely had a plethora of rivals for the main characters a majority of them fell short, they were either annoying, hardly contributed towards the story or any development or just appeared once. It was refreshing to see, rivals introduced for goals such as a Dragon Master and a Pokémon Connoisseur, as I wasn’t sure how rivals could be implemented for such goals aside from aiming for the same goal as previous rivals. Nevertheless, Georgia was meant to be Iris’ primary rival and aside from her first appearance, she hardly contributed to Iris’ overall development. They hardly battled, Georgia hardly appeared and Georgia didn’t develop much either. All in all, the writers fell short writing a good rival for Iris.

Journeys:

I understand I’m a bit late since Episode 65 aired a few weeks ago. Like many fans, I was impressed by Iris’ growth during her absence, culminating in her becoming the Unova Champion. Although this leaves me a bit confused as to when Iris left the series, she was set to be Drayden’s successor as the Opelucid Gym Leader, now that she’s a Champion does this mean Drayden has to find an alternative successor? It kind of renders the whole homecoming arc in BW, kind of pointless. 

Drayden explains how Iris during her absence from the series continued to meet and battle with other Dragon-type trainers and alludes to the fact she’s caught a Gible (which we knew) and a Goodra, I don’t understand why they keep giving Iris these random Dragon-types that Ash has also caught. Did Iris catch Goodra in Kalos? Did she meet Drasna of the Kalos Elite Four? Anyway, what I like about this whole scene, is despite being Champion, Iris still doesn’t feel as though she has accomplished her goal of becoming a Dragon Master. Whilst, I respect the fact Iris still wants to grow as a trainer, it raises the question of what does it take to become a Dragon Master? Does it differ from person to person? 

Additionally, they’ve explained the ability Iris developed in the BW special, as an ability to read a Dragon Pokémon’s emotions. Which to be honest, I still find it a bit baffling, it's understandable for Psychic-type specialists and to some extent, Ghost-type specialists as Phoebe of the Hoenn Elite Four can apparently communicate with ghosts, but, for the sake of the story, I’ll accept it. 

I was impressed with the battle and comedy aspects of this episode with my favourite moments being the looks Emolga and Pikachu gave their trainers when they were bickering and when Iris and Ash quite literally blew the roof of the gym. I mean to be fair; it should be a requirement at this point that Gyms need an open roof in the Pokémon world just to avoid this kind of incident. 

The battle I was impressed with, subverted some of my expectations and worries, as I thought it would follow the pattern of Ash’s battle with Korrina where Gengar was swiftly defeated and Dragonite took down both of Korrina’s Pokémon. I felt bad for poor Dragonite being intimidated by Iris’ Dragonite (his glare reminds me of Harley’s Wigglytuff) and Ash being the good trainer that he is recalls Dragonite. This bit, I loved as it shows Ash’s compassion as a trainer. We had the bit we were waiting for! Ash actually using Dracovish, I feel as though Dracovish is definitely one of the weaker aspects of Ash’s character in this series as in Episode 63, aside from Water Gun, he didn’t know Dracovish’s moves or the fact he runs faster underwater (although to be fair Dracovish is a new species of Pokémon that people hardly know anything about so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt). I feel if we’d seen Ash training with Dracovish, the build-up to this battle would have been so much better and we could have seen a stronger bond between Ash and Dracovish form.

Part of me is relieved was that Dracovish didn’t go on to defeat Dragonite and Haxorus as the lack of screen-time with Dracovish could not justify that outcome. However, I’m still not satisfied with the outcome of this battle. In my previous analysis, I mentioned that I didn’t want them to pull the same stunt they did with Korrina, and what did they go and do? I understand Ash is also a Champion, however, they built up the fact Dragonite fully accepts Iris as his trainer, her Axew is now fully evolved and is her ace (as he should have been from the start!) and then they go and make her lose! 

Like Korrina, this completely undermines all of Iris’ efforts in her absence and continues my biggest gripe with Journeys being pacing. Don’t get me wrong, I love Ash and I love seeing him succeed but when they build up a character returning like this people were kind of hoping Iris would win or draw with Ash (which would at least minimize the pacing issue slightly). In my opinion, a draw would have been a more satisfying conclusion, as it would reflect on both Iris and Ash’s growth during their time apart in a more positive light. 

Conclusion:

This extended analysis has been long overdue and I think it has allowed me to elevate my opinion of Iris but due to some weird writing choices. I don’t feel that same level of attachment that I’ve felt towards other travelling companions. But writing this analysis helped me see that a lot of the hate towards her is exaggerated. As she has had some great moments and development throughout BW. One of my favourite arcs in BW, was Iris restoring her relationship with Excadrill which was one of the most poignant moments of the series.

Overall, this analysis has not only helped improve my opinion on Iris but when a character we’re meant to like is written poorly, we’re less likely to like them or engage with them as well as you would with another character. This is why I’m having such an issue with Journeys at the moment and why I needed to take a little break from it. Although, I may watch the Gary episode, just to see Infernape in action again! Along with the rest of Ash’s Pokémon! 

[haberdashing]

I Am Destruction, Decay, And Desire (4/?)

Martin finds out that Jon’s going to meet with Jude Perry and acts to intervene. It goes… poorly.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

on AO3

Martin had never been a fan of the old idiom that time heals all wounds. In his experience, if time made you forget about certain wounds, it was only because newer ones took precedence. That being said, however, by the time Martin returned to the cafe where the life he’d known had ended just twenty-four hours ago, his mood was as least somewhat better than it had been the previous night. He still was all too aware of what had happened, but it didn’t sting quite as badly as it had when it was fresh.

He still had a purple smudge on his finger that had not in fact washed out during his bath, or rather his mostly-unsuccessful attempt at the same, but that was... fine. It would be fine.

Martin had made a point of being on time to the meeting he had arranged, but even so, he saw as he had arrived that both Jon and Jude had beaten him to the punch, having taken a seat at opposing sides of an outside table.

Jon was wearing the same ridiculous fluffy pink coat as he’d worn the day before, though if it was especially chilly out Martin couldn’t feel it, and Martin felt a pang as he got closer and saw that it was still visibly stained where his waxen hand had brushed against it.

As Martin approached the table where Jon and Jude sat, he found that that same coat he had fixated upon was apparently the current topic of discussion.

“Look, I lost my normal coat, and i-it’s cold. Some of us actually feel it, you know?”

Martin’s stomach sank a little further at that confirmation that it was indeed cold out, that he simply couldn’t feel the cold anymore, that that was yet another sign that he was no longer human. (Even if it was kind of amusing to watch Jon get so indignant about that coat, of all things...)

“You wouldn’t shake my hand.” There was a strange grin on Jude’s face as she spoke, a grin matched in intensity by Martin’s growing certainty that this conversation was going to be... well, simply “uncomfortable” was probably a best-case scenario, now, wasn’t it?

Martin pulled up a chair and sat down between Jon and Jude; Jon glancing his way for a moment before returning to staring at Jude, and Jude nodded vaguely in his direction but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him. That was fine, though. There were worse things to be than overlooked.

“Well, no, I’m not stupid! I saw what happened-”

Jude’s grin only got even wider as Jon spoke, and evidently he noticed, as he switched conversational tracks quickly enough.

“L-look, will you stop that?”

The wild grin turned to biting laughter, though only for a brief moment. “Oh, alright. Ah… I hate explaining jokes, but, um… Imagine you’re, um… a butcher, and one day an injured little lamb walks into your workshop, and strides right into one of the mincing machines, but when you go up to it, knife in hand, it shakes its head and tells you ‘I’m not stupid’. Do you get why that’s funny?”

“Right.” Jon didn’t sound the least bit amused even after the explanation, but honestly, Martin didn’t exactly blame him. “But no more abattoir metaphors, please.”

“Suppose it’s not really me, is it? Would you rather be a really stupid piece of firewood?” Jude’s grin and the playful tone in her voice suggested that she was amused enough by her own jokes for the three of them.

And then Jon just... plunged ahead, asking questions about names and dates and places that Martin by and large didn’t recognize; perhaps it had been foolish of him to assume that Jon’s research, Jon’s search for answers, would have stopped just because of a little thing like, oh, being on the run for murder. In hindsight, Martin knew Jon well enough that he really shouldn’t have been surprised that the man kept searching for information come hell or high water, kept seeking out danger even when he was already knee-deep in it.

Really, the surprising part was that Jude actually cooperated, more or less. Sure, she protested, she threatened, but she also answered Jon’s questions in the end.

(Some might have found it even more surprising that Martin managed to remain little more than an onlooker in the conversation, but not Martin himself; he was too used to it, too used to being overlooked and underestimated, and honestly, given the circumstances, he didn’t much mind not being the center of attention at the moment.)

“Yes, yes, I understand, you could easily kill me, I’m at your mercy...” Jon barely blinked an eye at Jude’s latest not-so-veiled threat, a reference to a statement Martin actually did remember and a man who ended up horrifically burned because of the events within it. Martin doubted anyone else could sound quite so bored when being threatened with agonizing pain and disfigurement by a woman who had already proven that she could easily make good on such threats if the mood struck her. “So... why haven’t you done it?”

“We’re in public.” Jude, for her part, seemed more amused with the situation than anything else, the grin on her face sneaking its way into her voice once again.

“Well-” Jon started to say, but Martin interrupted before Jon could finish the thought.

“That didn’t seem to stop you before, now, did it?” Martin didn’t bother hiding the aggravation in his voice--it was one thing to discuss weird happenings Martin wasn’t privy to without including him in the conversation, but ignoring the events of yesterday, ignoring the very relevant fact that Jude had burned him in a setting every bit as public as the current one, went a bit too far for his taste.

Jude tilted her head to one side, and both she and Jon looked Martin’s way for a long, silent moment; Martin couldn’t read the look in Jude’s eyes, but Jon’s contained something like guilt, or perhaps pity.

“I was a bit careless there, wasn’t I?” The upbeat tone of Jude’s voice was only slightly dampened, far from the apologetic tone her words might otherwise have signified. “I shouldn’t have given you time to scream. If I moved fast enough, I could-” Jude turned her gaze back at Jon as she continued to speak. “-reach through your chest like runny wax, and hold your heart while it cooked, and no one would even notice.”

“Right. R-right.” Jon finally sounded at least slightly affected by Jude’s threats rather than just bored of them; perhaps it was the graphic nature of this one that did the trick, or perhaps being reminded that Martin was now living proof that Jude’s threats weren’t empty ones was enough to make the seriousness of the situation start to sink in. “So why don’t you? Does your ‘god’ not want you to?”

“...mmm, hard to say. When I look at you, I feel that burning liquid pain, eager to flow out and purify your rotten carcass...” Jude glanced over at Martin, and her gaze looked almost conspiratorial, like she was expecting him to be in agreement, but all Martin felt upon hearing that was a bit sick. “But I feel that a lot.”

“Oh.” Jon looked a bit peaky, and if Martin had to guess, he felt at least as ill as Martin himself did upon hearing the graphic details of Jude’s desire to burn and destroy. “M-more or less than normal?”

“Hard to say when every nerve ending’s on fire. Hard to tell degrees.” Another glance Martin’s way, looking for something in him that wasn’t there. (Or wasn’t there yet, at least--Martin thought back to Prentiss’ statement, how she could recognize that something was wrong before becoming little more than a worm-filled husk. Maybe that’s where he was now, in the in-between period, no longer human but not yet monster.)

“Third degree, maybe?” Jon muttered, the words probably meant mostly for himself rather than for the benefit of his conversational partners, but Martin still snorted with amusement, though Jude looked more annoyed than amused (apparently in her mind, she was the only one allowed to make jokes in this conversation).

“Sorry, sorry, it was a...” Jon trailed off before finishing his sentence, and when he started speaking again it was to start on another train of thought. “I have a god too... right?”

“Is that another joke?” Jude’s wry grin was back, despite the fact that what Jon had said didn’t strike Martin as a joke, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that any laughter in response to it would have to be at his expense.

“N-no, I... I’m new to this. Everyone keeps calling me ‘Archivist’, like I’m special, and that... that I serve the Eye. Trying to kill me for it.”

“Yes.” Jude leaned back a little in her chair.

“S-so... i-it’s like your ‘god’, right?”

“Oh please, your god is nothing!” Jude wrinkled her nose, apparently disgusted by the mere thought of comparing the two “gods” on equal terms. “The Eye, Beholding, Ceaseless Watcher...  whatever you call it, that’s all it does. It watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge. I serve a reckoning, a surging tide of destruction and pain.”

Martin could feel his pulse racing as Jon breathed, “The Lightless Flame.”

“The Desolation. Blackened Earth. The destructive, agonizing heat of burning flesh and land scoured of life. The light, the comfort of fire stripped from it, leaving nothing but the terror of its approach. When it triumphs, it will leave The Eye a burned and shriveled husk that sees nothing but its own agony.”

Jon spoke up again, starting to get into yet another tiff with Jude by the sound of it, but Martin wasn’t really listening as the two went at it, too preoccupied by dissecting the information Jude had just given him about the “god” she worshipped, the power she had pulled him into serving by force.

Martin rather preferred the term Jon had offered up for it to those Jude had given; lightless flames could still provide warmth if one didn’t get too close, after all, while desolation, blackened earth... those phrases spoke only to landscapes with all the life in them stripped away, spaces emptied by force of any comfort that might once have been found there.

The mere thought of it made Martin’s stomach turn a little... and yet, part of him wanted to agree that their “god” was the better one, the stronger one, destined to reign superior, even if all it could cause was destruction and pain.

Martin hoped, distantly, that he hadn’t reached the point where all he could cause now was destruction and pain.

[loosenedidylls]

Blessings, Curses, Autism

My earliest memories are of waiting rooms with musty carpets and buckets of donated, broken toys. I guess it was worse for my parents, who had nothing to stare at but walls and trashy lifestyle magazines. Eventually, the professionals decided I had a condition called Asperger’s Syndrome, and there was one thing they wanted me to understand:

“It’s a blessing, not a curse.”

If someone asked me to list blessings off the top of my head, I’d mention 20/20 vision, pitch-perfect hearing, or George Foreman’s chin — not a neurological disorder that transforms the most natural stages of personal development into a confusing struggle. In hindsight, I would have preferred more concrete advice than ‘it’s a blessing, not a curse.’ Something like:

“Watch out for the train!”

…But the quippy slogan is what stuck. My parents dispensed it like a cheap plaster, and I still don’t know whose benefit it was for — mine, or theirs. What I do know, is that I never once believed them: I felt I was being brushed aside, or told to accept something blatantly untrue. Besides, children don’t care to question whether they’re blessed or cursed, so it was an answer to a question that hadn’t been asked. Existentialism is for adults trying to make the best of a bad situation.

Being an Autistic Child.

Autism is not a superpower. Thanks to certain pieces of popular media, you might think of autistic people as quirky-yet-brilliant detectives, awkward-yet-sexy hackers (always female), or nonverbal children with a deep, instinctive connection to whatever animal or alien the protagonists are trying to communicate with. Often, people with severe autism are plot devices in the same vein as a forbidden orb or set of nuclear launch codes. Instead of damsels waiting for Bruce Willis to save them, they’re objects waiting for Bruce Willis to understand them.

A lot of autistic people are brilliant academically, though not for the reasons you might think. A common feature of autism is hyper-fixating on ‘special interests’, obsessing over a subject until one has learned everything about it, before moving on to the next. Very few people become maths geniuses this way; more often they become diehard Sonic fans or start giving lots of money to Games Workshop. Here are a few of the phases I went through:

-          Thomas the Tank Engine.

-          Pokémon.

-          Old English monster myths.

-          Naruto.

-          Peter Jackson’s King Kong (both the movie and the video game).

-          Bleach (the anime, thankfully, not the cleaning product).

Fairly normal interests for a young person, right? Now remember the hyper-fixation part. People with Asperger’s tend to focus on certain interests at the expense of others, and those ‘rejected interests’ are usually vital for social development. Now remember that high school is a psychopathic hellscape crawling with cruel little monsters ready to vent their newfound territorial instincts on anyone who doesn’t fit in. The kid who wants to discuss the depiction of brontosauruses in a sort-of-okay remake of a 1933 movie isn’t doing himself any favours — constant bullying drives him even deeper into reclusive interests and solitary hobbies, and from there, it’s the luck of the draw whether those hobbies resonate with any of the kids around him.

I’ve always known a lot about things no one knows about, and nothing about things everyone knows about. This, along with the fact that a lack of social life makes it easy to focus on one’s studies, creates the illusion that some autistic kids are eccentric geniuses-in-the-making. Parents — especially the parents of autistic children — are quick to latch onto any display of intelligence. They watch intently for any sign their long struggle is paying off, and when it happens, they praise their child endlessly, reinforcing behaviour patterns both good and bad. Because adults told me I was intelligent, I told other children I was intelligent, and you can imagine how well that went.

This misapprehension — confusing a bunch of random trivia for genius — followed me into high school, hurting me all the while, which is ironic, because it was the only positive way I could think about myself.

I’m lucky to have found books and writing as lifelong passions, but that almost didn’t happen; in fact, I used to despise any writing task the teacher set for me, to the point of outright refusing to do the work. In my defence, I was trying very hard to be somewhere else at the time — mentally, that is. The idea of putting my feelings on paper, for all to see? I couldn’t conceive of anything more terrifying.

Harry Potter changed things. I was gifted The Deathly Hallows when it was first published, and even though I had no idea what was going on in the story (I hadn’t even seen The Order of the Phoenix yet), I thought it was wonderful — maybe because I was getting a sneak peek into a future movie. Since then, I’ve always had a book close at hand, and it wasn’t long before I started writing my own novels (more on those another time).

 Voracious reading was, technically, another un-social activity that would consume my waking hours, but at least it was productive. My grades improved dramatically. I got good at writing essays. I became better at expressing myself, and I started to consider other people’s points of view. I made friends, lifelong bonds. I wouldn’t say I was happy at that stage of life — bullies tend to push back against things like improved mental health — but at least I was growing.

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder how close I came to disaster. I was 13 or so. If I’d left it any later, I doubt the outcome would have been so peachy. There are plenty of autistic adults with no friends, no employable skills, no human contact but ageing parents and rare, fleeting therapy sessions. Many of these people are quirky and brilliant, but there’s no happy ending for them.

Being an Autistic Adult.

Autism never goes away. It never gets ‘better’. It isn’t curable because it’s not a disease, despite what the vaccine deniers might tell you; autism is an intrinsic part of my neurological makeup, and living with it is a process of compromises.

I had to accept, early on, that I’m not the same sort of human being as the people around me. My brain is a different brand of brain: it makes different connections, processes different bits of data at different speeds. Things that seem obvious to you, need to be explained to me. I struggle to read a room, and I’m never quite sure if the person I’m talking to would really rather I shut up.

Put simply, my childhood experiences made me keenly aware of myself as an outsider. I need to watch for people’s reactions to anything I say or do, all the while navigating a maze of social cues and left-unsaids — but sooner or later, I’m always going to slip up. When you are differently-brained, it’s easy to misinterpret instructions, or to misjudge which thread of discussion is most important; and when you’re processing so much data at any one time, small-yet-vital points are going to slip under the radar. The result is being told off, being laughed at (‘laughing with you, not at you’ is another fun slogan I’ve learned to endure), and generally feeling stupid or useless for overlooking one point of data among hundreds.

 As I grew into an adult, I got better at performing normal. Nowadays, only those who spend a lot of time around me can spot the signs of my condition: I seem confident, funny, sympathetic, and I make friends easily. As I write this, I can’t help but feel uneasy: it makes me wonder, and not for the first time, how much of my personality is genuine. In high-stress situations, the generic piece of advice is ‘relax and be yourself.’ Succeeding in life as an autistic person means learning not to be yourself, or at least creating a version of yourself that can exist in public — so, where does the real me end, and the performance begin? Are they one and the same? I’ll never know the answer to that question.

Being an autistic adult, then, means pretending I’m not autistic for the benefit of other people. It’s a lifelong, often exhausting performance, and the temptation to retreat into my shell is ever present. But, just like anyone else, I long for human contact, so the compromise is a necessary one.

Blessings & Curses: Redux.

Terry Pratchett wrote that humans need to learn to believe the little lies so they can believe in big ones. There’s something I wish I knew during the bad years; that I was far from the only person suffering from my condition. My parents were stumbling in the dark just like me, except they had to pretend everything was under control.

My dad confided in me, recently, how he used to cry — a lot — during those days when I would return from school after another worst day of my life, talking about footballs thrown at my head, being cornered and verbally abused, or being removed from class after another tantrum. These were practically daily occurrences, and they’ve left their lifelong marks on me, but I’ve never lacked for brilliant people willing to help, people who were alongside me in my suffering. Raising a child is hard, and raising a neurodivergent child is even harder. Can I blame my parents for wanting to believe in blessings, and not curses?

Most of the time, those bad years seem like a distant memory. I don’t see autism as my blessing or my curse; it’s just a part of me — a frustrating, limiting, often embarrassing part of me, but one just as vital as my eye colour or ethnicity. I’ve come to accept it and be content despite it, and I suppose that’s the best outcome I could hope for.

[phrynewrites]

50 and scyvie please! thank you, i adore your writing 🥺

Thank you for the ask hun! I had so much fun writing this little glimpse into my Girlfriends Without Benefits AU. 

Girlfriends Without Benefits is a Scyvie fake dating AU, where Scarlet, freshly dumped, asks Yvie to pretend to be her girlfriend to make her ex jealous. Yvie of course agrees, deciding that she’d do anything to help her best friend, especially if it helps her get over her terrible ex, who Yvie was never fond of. And besides, Yvie’s straight, so it’s nothing more than a kind gesture on her part. Until, that is, Yvie realizes it’s far more than a gesture. And Scarlet? Well Scarlet begins to wish there were benefits. 

I hope you enjoy!

***

“Scarlet, I need to shower now!” Yvie yells, rapping her balled up fist against the bathroom door one more time. 

Not that it was Scarlet’s fault, of course, Yvie reminds herself, continuing to bang against the door. Scarlet always took her shower directly after Yvie’s, around 7:30 or so, giving her enough time to fuss around with her hair styling products and complete her extensive morning skin care routine in peace, before heading off to work. 

But today Yvie had woken up late, finding herself right in the middle of Scarlet’s bathroom time, in desperate need of a shower — and fast. 

“Scarlet!” Yvie tries once more, but louder, assuming Scarlet can’t hear her over the running water and her own carelessly off key singing. 

“It’s open.” 

Yvie turns the knob without thinking, fully unprepared when she sees Scarlet standing in the fogged up shower stall, reaching up to grab a bottle out of the corner shower caddy. She’s encased in the scent of sweet mint and honey. It’s intoxicating and entirely Scarlet, reminding her of when they’d take the train home from the bar late at night, and Scarlet, still a touch too tipsy, would fit her head in the crook of Yvie’s shoulder and ramble on about how Yvie was the best fake girlfriend she’d ever had because Yvie knew she always wanted her hair played with when she was drunk. 

“What do you need, babe?” Scarlet shouts, pumping out some of the product, pausing, turning to look at Yvie, before running it through her hair.

Yvie swallows at the thought, diverting her eyes. “I need to shower before work,” she says, more to the woven bath mat below her than Scarlet. “I woke up super late. And I still smell like last night's weed.” Yvie laughs, thinking back to the two of them sharing a bowl, watching House Hunters: International, ripping on a couple from Iowa who decided to move their whole family to Paris and were shocked by the fact that they’d be paying nearly a million dollars for an apartment no bigger than hers and Scarlet’s. 

This led to Scarlet asking what would happen if they moved to Iowa and got a huge house instead of living in this glorified closet, then laughing about somehow finding herself back in the closet, elbowing Yvie until she made the connection that their home was closet sized and Scarlet wasn’t straight, and then coming in closer, leaning against Yvie’s side, letting an arm lazily fall into her lap and asking “no really, what if we just picked up and moved to Iowa? We could get goats and shit. Big kitchen we never use. Think about it.”

Yvie did think about it. She thought about it, up until she woke up late, realized she’d have to teach chemical bonding to a class of tenth graders today at 8 a.m., came into the bathroom, and had that thought forcefully replaced by a never ending and increasingly intrusive slew of thoughts about Scarlet in the shower. 

“I mean, I’m kind of in the middle of it here.” Scarlet says, pulling Yvie out of her trance, calling her gaze to meet her own. Scarlet piles her conditioner coated hair up on the top of her head, reaches down for a clip, and fastens it. “Fine, come on in.” 

Yvie’s eyes blow out as Scarlet elbows the stall door open, inviting her in. The crack in the door teasing her, rendering her silent and still as she stares at it, like she’s waiting for the shower door to flinch before she does. She wants to ask Scarlet for her reasoning, or maybe even consider dousing herself in the Warm Vanilla Sugar body spray Scarlet kept in the console drawer for ‘emergencies.’

 Avoiding being sopping wet and naked only a few inches away from your roommate, who inexplicably made your stomach tight and heart press urgently against the wall of your chest every time you thought too long about her, who in this scenario is also naked and wet, seems exactly like an emergency, Yvie thinks.

Scarlet cleared her throat before crossing her arms over her chest. “I thought you had to shower?” 

“Right, yeah,” Yvie fumbles, trying to psych herself up as she pulls off her pajamas, pushing them into a neat pile in the corner with her foot. She reminds herself that she just needs a shower. So she can go teach school. That she doesn’t need to think any harder about what she’s going to do here at all. She just needs to open the stall door, get in, clean herself, and get out so she can go to work. 

And that Scarlet’s emergency warm vanilla sugar body spray is also filled with glitter because of course it is. 

She opens the door tentatively, maneuvering carefully around Scarlet, desperately trying to avoid any contact, cursing their stupid, small shower at every turn. Scarlet, however, seems unbothered, squeezing some shower gel onto a loofa, holding it under the water to let it suds up before trailing it over her body. She throws her neck back and hums, letting the soap cover her chest. 

Yvie doesn’t think about the tattoo she knows is under Scarlet’s left breast, the detailed ivy leaves trailing from her ribs to her sternum. 

She tries very hard not to think about it.

She definitely thinks about it. 

Just past Scarlet, who’s now humming a few notes again, Yvie spots her shampoo, immediately reminded of the plan she set in place, the plan to shower and get out, which she immediately deviated from. She grabs the bottle and concentrates on the pearlescent liquid pouring out and onto her hand, beginning to spill out of her palm as she begins to wander from the shampoo to the curve of Scarlet’s back. 

“Shit,” Yvie mutters before raking the shampoo through her hair and weaving her arm past Scarlet’s waist, placing the shampoo back in it’s spot. She pulls her arm back a little too quickly, brushing against Scarlet’s waist, halting her humming, making Yvie slink away quicker, forcing her other hand into her hair, as though if she looks occupied, Scarlet won’t notice the touch she clearly already registered. 

“Uh, can I get under the water?” Yvie asks tentatively, still adamantly massaging the shampoo into her scalp. 

Scarlet hangs her loofah back on the hook and nods brightly. “Perfect timing. Let’s switch, hun.” 

Before Yvie could manage to press herself against the tiled back wall of the shower, and strafe across until she was under the water like a video game character trying to avoid assassins, Scarlet grabs her by the arm and pulls her closer, skin to skin, the two sharing the water for a moment before Scarlet reaches behind Yvie to take her razor and shaving cream, her chest just grazing Yvie’s back. 

And before Yvie registers it all, Scarlet’s already gone, setting herself up a few inches away, facing the back of the stall. 

“Needed to shave anyway,” Scarlet explains, propping her foot up on the unused soap ledge next to her, shaking the shaving cream, and spraying it in a puffing line up her toned calf. 

Scarlet bends to lather the cream and Yvie’s sure she’s teasing her, though she can reason that Scarlet might just want to shave her legs. And that maybe she’s just teasing herself with the image of Scarlet bent just so, right in front of her, how if Yvie moved forward only two inches or so, she’d have the gentle curve of Scarlet’s ass pressed against her thigh. 

Yvie washes harder, until she feels her hair squeak between her fingers, wishing the stream of warm water did a better job of soothing her. 

At least they’re further away now, saving Yvie from any more close encounters. Yvie can simply turn away from Scarlet, drawing her razor up her leg as tantalizingly as she possibly can, Yvie’s sure, and face the shower head — you know, like serial killers probably do — and wash herself off. Just shower gel, wash cloth, wash her body, rinse, and out the shower she goes. It would be very simple, Yvie decides. She’d make this very simple. 

She takes her shower gel out of the caddy and searches for her wash cloth. 

Scratch that. It would not be simple. She could not make it simple. 

Scarlet’s foot is on her wash cloth. 

Scarlet, who is wet, naked, objectively mind-numbingly physically attractive, shaving, and back to humming Dolly Parton to herself, is also standing on her wash cloth.

“Ugh, fuck me,” Yvie whispers to herself before looking back up at Scarlet, who seems not to have registered what Yvie said, still focused on shaving and humming the chorus of 9 to 5.

She could just ask for her wash cloth, Yvie reasons, but then Scarlet would stand up and face her and Yvie’s not sure she can handle looking Scarlet in the eye right now. Instead, Yvie decides to just snatch it from under Scarlet’s foot, like a magician swiping a tablecloth out from under a full course candle-lit Italian meal. If she can do it quickly enough, maybe Scarlet won’t notice and Yvie can continue with her shower. 

She crouches slightly, extending her arm just enough to hook her finger around the hole she cut in the corner of her wash cloth. She curls her finger. She pulls sharply. The wash cloth hangs from Yvie’s finger. 

And Scarlet yelps. 

Then hisses. 

Then says “fuck” about twelve times. 

And when Yvie sees the shaving cream turning pink, candy red blood running down Scarlet’s ankle and onto the sky-blue tiled floor of the shower; when she feels her heart sinking until it’s pressing against her stomach, Yvie’s sure she made the wrong choice. 

In hindsight, she should have just spread her shower gel all over her body without the wash cloth. Or maybe steal Scarlet’s loofah — then she still could have lathered, and smelled like warm sweet honey, had the scent of Scarlet lingering all day. 

“God, Yvie,” Scarlet begins, before yanking the washcloth out of Yvie’s hand, pressing it against her ankle to stop the blood. “What the fuck?”

“Oof, that looks like it hurts,” Yvie says before cursing herself. The blood’s just hitting the drain. Of course it would fucking hurt. 

“Uh, yeah. It does.” Scarlet quirks a brow. 

And in what feels like an instant, Yvie opens the shower door, scrambles out, and decides that dousing herself in the sparkly body spray is probably her best option now. 

[honestandsincere]

musicality

O C T O B E R  2 0 1 9  / /   E L   R E Y  T H E A T R E ‘ S  B A T T L E  O F  T H E  B A N D S

There are certain moments in life in which one can tell are important. Even without the benefits of hindsight, you just know that whatever is happening is pivotal, memorable. Life is appreciated retrospectively until you are submerged in scenarios and situations that seem significant.

Ethan knows this is important, he's known this for a while. He's had time to mentally prepare himself for the sudden surge of dread that washes over him, the stickiness of his palms and the tsunamis of self-doubt. This is a big moment, it will be a big moment, and he does not need hindsight to figure this out. He feels as though he's in some coming-of-age Disney Channel movie his sister used to watch when she'd monopolize the television during summer vacations. Ethan's worked hard for this, he just doesn't want to play a sepia montage of childhood to understand this moment's importance.

He thinks of his first-ever music lesson, with Mr Schumer in first grade. He remembers the maracas being nauseatingly sticky and the tambourine's tiny cymbals being stuck together by some unidentifiable congealed substance. His backside was numb from being sat crosslegged on the linoleum floor, his legs tingling with pins and needles, but he remembers feeling overwhelmingly happy. The tinny ringing of the background disk hummed in the stuffy classroom air as innocently unrhythmic arms shook instruments violently, grins plastered on lunch-stained faces. Ethan tastes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

He ran into Mr Schumer a few weeks back, in the supermarket. He was buying wine for his wife, he'd told Ethan it was their fifteen-year anniversary. This made Ethan feel old, he recalled a clean-shaven young man bringing his girlfriend into their classroom on a Friday afternoon, subjecting her to their inquisitive eyes and naively inappropriate questions. Mr Schumer knew about the band, he said he'd seen them on posters plastered on street corners, even heard the odd song on the local radio station. Apparently, he always knew that Ethan would pursue music, or at least something creative. This was strange because Ethan was never prodigal or exceptionally good, he must have been enthusiastic.

Ethan thinks about the first time he really listened to music. It was when he and his father had taken a drive out of town to fetch the Christmas tree from a family friend's farm. Grayson could barely breathe through his clogged sinuses and Cameron was helping their mother assemble a gingerbread house, too afraid to face the cold. Ethan reckons he must have been around six. Just him and his dad in their car. This was when he'd first been introduced to The Beegees, his father urging him to appreciate 'proper' music. Ethan relives the fact he was unable to comprehend why Barry, Robin and Maurice were singing in such high-pitched voices, marvelling at their ability to not sound stupid. 'I know your eyes in the morning sun' were words he'd soon know but not fully understand, as familiar as the taste of cinnamon and cloves.

"You nervous?"

His brother's lumbering entrance cracks open his blissful reverie. Grayson looks positively terrified, his face pale and eyebrows drawn inward into an unsettling crease. His frame fills the doorframe, blocking the neon lighting of the hallway. The dressing room falls dim. Ethan licks his lips in search of words but decides to shake his head anyway.

"You know, nerves are good. They mean you give a shit, and that's important."

Ethan doesn't reply. Grayson, suddenly alarmed by his silence continues. "Everyone believes in you, E. You guys have got this in the bag - like you've basically already won. Pretty much everyone in the crowd is wearing a SU t-shirt."

Ethan turns to look at himself in the mirror. Sadly, it is not framed with dying lightbulbs, it's not particularly atmospheric. He notes that he doesn't look especially nervous or apprehensive, he looks normal. Griff had told him to dress nice, Ethan does not really know what that means.  He settled for black jeans and an oversized white t-shirt, he looks like himself. "If you wanna talk about it, you know, vent and like let everything out, you can-" "I'm fine, Gray." "That's the kind of shit nervous people say." "I'm not nervous." "OK," Grayson does not sound very convinced, he rolls his eyes at his brother's stoicism, "Griff and Manny have gone for a drink." "I know." "Are they planning on getting drunk or something?" "They're getting coffee." "Oh."

Ethan runs a tattooed hand through his hair, purposefully dishevelling it to his desired look. He gives himself another glance in the mirror, then turns to sit on the fake leather couch the venue has provided them, crossing one leg over the other. Maybe he should have accepted Griff's invitation to join them on their venture for coffee, he feels encased in the grimy walls of their dressing room. Grayson appears jittery; he fiddles with the signet ring on his index finger, twisting it relentlessly. This is his first time backstage and it shows.

"Mom and Cam are in the audience," he says once he's bored of his heirloom jewellery. "Mom's here?" Ethan can't tell whether the knowledge of his mother's presence in the crowd makes him feel better or worse. "In merch and all." "Jesus."

Ethan imagines his mother being thrown about in the sweat-drenched mosh, her perfectly styled hair getting tousled by rambunctious, inebriated youths. He can picture her grimace, grinning through the pain for the sake of her son, singing words she's not too fond of but were written in her garage. She never really wanted him to pursue the band, she didn't think it would amount to anything worthwhile; a trio of slightly overzealous boys writing songs about girls who listen to The Smiths and drink vodka straight. Ethan's mother loves him, she wants the best for him and until the video of the boys performing a Beatles song when viral on YouTube, she had assumed law school was the way to go.

"Don't let Manny curse," Grayson's eyes are wide with trivial fear. "I can't make any promises."

It's incredibly naive to assume that Manny won't speak profanely onstage, it's very rare that he does not. Being on the synthesizer, he is restricted from engaging with the crowd the same way in which Griff, their frontman can. Manny has developed an affinity for screaming various explosives into his mic as the beat drops in their more upbeat songs, grinning wide with unabashed pride as the audience cheers in response. Both Ethan and Grayson know their mother will not be impressed, it's almost as though they are constantly trying to prove to her that this was the right decision. Letting them move to Los Angeles to follow their dreams was not an easy thing for her to do, they knew this all too well.

"Do you know which song you're gonna play?" Grayson moves to perch himself against the precarious dressing table, his broad frame covering the mirror entirely, "Probably There's a Reason Why." "Nice," he elongates the vowel. "It's the video that has the most views, we're assuming that it's the one that people are most likely to know." "Smart move."

Griffin Fraser is trustworthy. Of all people, Grayson Dolan would know this. When he scuffed his knee on the kindergarten tarmac on their first day of school, to when his collarbone popped out on the football field during their championship game, Griff was there. With floppy hair and a tendency to speak almost irritatingly slowly, Griff has always been a hit with the ladies, swanning his way through school at the top of the hierarchy. As Grayson's best friend and Ethan's bandmate, it's almost as though he's their triplet - a third Dolan brother. His voice sounds like the lovechild of a Gallagher brother and an indistinguishable eighties superstar that everyone's uncle adores. Griff calls the shots and nobody complains.

"What are Patchwork gonna play?" "I overheard their Stefan talking to one of the runners, I didn't recognise the song's name. That can't be a good thing."

Ethan shakes his head in denial, Patchwork are good. LA natives with catchy melodies and heavy bass, they're popular at house parties and with those lighting spliffs in their parents' basements. Ethan listens to them himself, he likes their stuff. With three edgy musicians oozing sex appeal and singing about problematic boyfriends and systematic sexism, they are always crowd-pleasers. This battle had become a war as soon as El Rey had announced that the competition would pit Sunday’s Unrest (Ethan’s band) against Patchwork. Things get personal when bands are compared, particularly when they are familiar with one another. Ethan is too familiar with Patchwork. Too caught up in figuring out whether this familiarity is a blessing or a curse. "I wouldn't worry about them, E." "This is a competition, I'm supposed to worry." "Not if you're the best band." "That's not up to you to decide." "Unfortunately."

There's a laugh from outside. A loud, ferocious female laugh that has Ethan and Grayson sharing a confused look. She waltzes into the room without knocking on the opened door, her hair fanning behind her. "No way were you just listening to our conversation," the younger twin groans, running a hand over his face. "This is a competition," she mocks, a smirk taking over her flushed face and Ethan wishes he doesn’t recall how her lips taste, "I'm supposed to eavesdrop."

Ethan rolls his eyes at her, not being able to believe the fact he hadn't seen this coming. The intimidation tactic. Sending Y/N Y/L/N into their dressing room as a means of psyching the band out, getting into his head. Dangling the most brilliant prize in front of him, only to snatch it away with his own regret. It’s just him and her. And his brother. "Nice to see you, Y/N," he deadpans, untangling his legs and sitting upright on the couch. "You too, E," she leans against the doorframe and crosses her arms over her chest.

Y/N Y/L/N could easily be the face of her generation. She's just too cool. In a worn looking Paul McCartney T-shirt and a black miniskirt, Y/N exudes confidence. Her effortlessly messy hair has been tucked behind her ears, showing an array of silver studs in her lobes. An embodiment of edgy, the perfect frontwoman. Patchwork burst onto the music scene a few years ago, garnering attention with their memorable choruses and ability to soundtrack melancholy lyrics with an upbeat melody. Y/N, a personable and eccentric vocalist and guitarist, is venerated by many a journalist. Her interviews go viral online as she giggles and charms her way through somewhat tricky questions, always relatable and consistently loveable. There's Maria on the drums. She's rather quiet, not usually partaking much in press events but is gorgeous nonetheless, in a mysterious nobody-can-tell-what-she's-thinking-but-they-want-to-know-everything-about-her kind of way. Sara is on bass, she's the funny member of the band, hilariously clumsy and adorable. Her self-deprecating sense of humour makes her a hit with audience members as she cracks jokes at her own expense during their sets. Patchwork are the whole package, people either want to sleep with them or be them. It's almost irritating how perfect they are.

"How've you been, Y/N?" Grayson asks politely, cocking his head to one side as though the analyze her every detail. "Not too bad, I'm a little nervous though," there's an edge to her voice that sounds sincere, Ethan wants to feel sympathy for her because he can empathize wholeheartedly. But, she's competition and he desperately wants to detach any feeling from her. Grayson nods his head slowly, unsure of what to say. It's as though he doesn't want to offer her comfort in fear that it might give her a sudden boost of confidence which, in turn, would lead to Patchwork winning the competition. Is he a sadist?

"What song are you guys playing tonight?" Y/N looks at Ethan almost hopefully. He figures there's no harm telling the truth, "There's a Reason Why." "I like that one." "Yeah, me too."

Grayson senses some uneasiness in the room, as though they're dancing around a topic that he is utterly unaware of. It's like they're communicating telepathically or something. He feels a slight pang of jealous, telepathy is his and Ethan's thing. "What about you, Y/N?" he asks, despite knowing the answer. "If I Could Change Your Mind," she shrugs, "it's kind of an old one." "I know it," Ethan says with a certain intensity that makes her pout a little, her bottom lip jutting outwards ever so slightly. "I expect to see you singing along then," Y/N says, looking at him intently before turning on her heel and walking out through the opened door.

"May the best band win!" she calls from down the corridor.

---- D E C E M B E R  2 0 1 8  / /  A N   U N K N O W N   B A R   I N   L A

The room is gently spinning. The edges of objects like tables and chairs are soft and blur into one another. This is a suitable state of tipsy. Appropriate. Enjoyable but sensible, knocking the edge off. Ethan, Manny and Griff are celebrating. Charlamagne just went gold and they could not be happier. They're not even twenty-one but their management (consisting of a middle-aged man named Stefan) snuck them into this indistinctive bar downtown, buying rounds of drink and clapping each of the boys on the back.

"We've made it," Manny slurs, "We've actually fucking made it. Shit. Fuck." "I know," Griff's eyes are wide and he looks as though he's seeing in colour for the first time in his life, "this is insane." "Really insane," is all Ethan can manage.

He sips at his whisky, unable to distinguish whether he enjoys the burn it leaves in his throat. He's never gone out drinking before, only ever passed around a bottle of wine or gotten pissed of Manny's dad's beers in their basement. This is what being a rockstar tastes like, he thinks. Ethan called Grayson a few hours ago to tell him the news. Then he'd called his mother and then his grandmother and then his aunt and then he'd shoved his phone into his back pocket and shaken his head in disbelief. The song he's written. The song he'd shown Griff and asked for some help with. The song Manny said was shit, to begin with, but then actually really liked once they got to play it. Charlamagne. Gold.

"We're fucking famous," says Manny, puffing out his chest a little. "Sort of," Ethan half laughs. "Three boys from New Jersey with weird music tastes," Griff muses, "this is the kind of shit they make movies about." "Indie movies," Ethan clarifies.

He lets his eyes roam across the room for a second, dancing over the warped figures in his drunken haze. And that's when he sees her. The girl he'd hooked up with within the first month of moving to Los Angeles. The one with the weird taste in music like him, with the messy hair and wide smile and obnoxious laugh. It had been at Griff's apartment, (it was essentially a room in an almost dilapidated building, Griffin used words like 'rustic' and 'charming' in order to describe it) she'd flirted nonchalantly with him and he was slightly enamoured. Ethan thought she was perfect; her snide remarks at Manny's bad jokes, the way she and her bandmates acted like sibling rather than colleagues and the way she told him his Jersey accent was impossibly strong. Ethan doesn't think he has an accent. They'd vanished into Griff's 'bedroom', high on adrenaline and Manny and Sara's secondhand smoke. Neither of them was intoxicated, and yet the night is a blur of tangled limbs and sheer excitement with flashes of clarity in her laugh and smile.

Y/N Y/L/N.

She's here with her band too, he remembers that Stefan is also their manager. They are good. Stitchwork? Crochet? Patchwork. "Holy shit! It's Maria! And Sara! Fucking hell, Y/N!" Manny yells, drawing the attention of all the drinkers in the velvet-adorned room.

The three girls seem so glide towards them, catching eyes and throwing smiles in all directions like confetti. Ethan notices that Stefan catches them before Patchwork meets Sunday's Unrest. Their manager is gesticulating wildly, causing Y/N to chuckle, Maria to snort and Sara rolls her eyes mockingly. He thinks maybe Stefan is warning them of the state of the boys' drunkenness as if to preface their meeting with a few words of caution. Ethan figures this is sensible.

"Get over here!" Manny howls, waving his heavy arms above his head like he's drowning in a cola and Bacardi riptide. "If it isn't Captain Fuckboy and his devout followers!" Sara retorts, swaggering past her manager and straight towards the boys' booth. Griff's eyebrows draw inwards, "Sara, are you pissed?" "Pissed off," she shrugs, folding her arms over her leather-clad chest and glaring at Ethan Dolan with intensity.

Shit.

"Oh," Manny is as smug as a younger sibling, grinning at Ethan with little camaraderie, "you're talking about Ethan." "You know I am." "Listen, neither Manuel or I am responsible for our bandmate's endeavours," Griffin attempts to sound unfazed. Ethan has nothing to say, he feels his cheeks heating up with what could be embarrassment or shame, but he's reached the stage of drunkenness in which all emotions bleed into a melancholic mess.

Sara ignores both of the floppy-haired boys, her stare focusing on Ethan, "You could have called her, or texted her. She really liked you."

Ethan Dolan is not a douchebag. He does not mess girls around, he never has and doubts he ever will. But he slipped up when it comes to Y/N Y/L/N. To say he is intimidated by her is a pathetic excuse, but it's the closest he can come to an explanation. Guys like him do not get with girls like her, she's too cool. He was scared, terrified of his imminent failure when it comes to dating. So he decided it would be best if he pretended their encounter never happened. It gave him peace of mind for maybe an hour or so. "I didn't think Y/N wanted to pursue anything," is what comes out of his mouth, his voice sounds alien.

"You're a dick, Ethan."

----

O C T O B E R  2 0 1 9

Grayson Dolan waits until the girl in the Paul McCartney t-shirt is out of earshot. He listens to the rhythmic clicking of her ankle-boots on the hallway floor, hearing them fade until he and his brother are sat in silence. "Remind me when you wrote the song," he says. "Excuse me?" "Remind me when you wrote There's A Reason Why." "I don't know, man. Like this time last year?" Ethan knows exactly when he wrote it, he can tell you which room it was written in. "Right," his brother doesn't sound convinced.

It's about Y/N. It's blatantly obvious that Ethan Dolan wrote the song about her. Or at least about that night in the unknown bar, avoiding her the whole time they were there. It's about how she tried to make conversation with him, asking him if he's been busy, fishing for clues as to why he never replied to her texts or answered her calls.

Y/N does not chase anyone, she gets chased. Ethan Dolan was the only exception. He was worth chasing. She reached out to him maybe five or six times, kicking herself when she'd been ignored. She's better than that and she knew it.

Ethan puffs air through his lips, drumming his palms quickly on his thighs and stands up. He stretches his tense arms out in front of him, shaking away his apprehension. This is too important, this opportunity is too big. He can't let himself fall into the chasm of anxious thoughts, all the 'what ifs' and 'maybes'.

"I'm gonna go find Griff and Manny," he rasps.

----

D E C E M B E R  2 0 1 8

He can't feel his hands. He watches his fingers press down on the stiff keys, he hears the sound it makes. But his hands are numb. His head spins, his chest burning with the leftover alcohol. He'd staggered into his apartment, making a beeline for his bedroom. Ethan needs to write, or at least map out a melody for a tune that's swimming around in his head. He's a drummer by nature, rhythms are practically ingrained in his identity, but this melody is so salient in his mind that he has no choice but to get it out.

'There's a reason why I never returned your calls I wish I could forget it all But I never returned your calls 'Cause I'd fall in again'

He hums as he mixes various chords. The electronic ring of the Casio comforting his dissociated haze. Seeing her has brought it all back, the fear. Ethan needs her out of his system and the best way to dispel her lingering legacy is through his lyrics. He won't sing them because he's not a singer, he can't slur notes together smoothly the way Griffin can, his pronunciation is not as seductive or as nice to listen to. Ethan carries the tune. Pulling out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, Ethan records the succession of chords he's just haphazardly composed.

G. C. G. C. D. C.

It's lighthearted, it sounds like a synth-pop song that his mother would hum in the car as she drove him and his brother to football practice. The chords are simple and memorable, but his lyrics need to explain what he's feeling. How he has felt.

'Don't talk I'd have run to kiss your mouth Is it me Or just a dream that never dies?'

The words are forming effortlessly, flowing into one another without much of a struggle. Ethan reminds himself that he is very drunk and it is very likely that this sounds really awful, but he keeps going, somehow recording a few verses and the skeletons of a bridge. He likes it. He'd listen to it if it was being played on the radio, maybe he'd even turn it up. Manny could work wonder with some kind of synth-riff melody hybrids he conjures up when they rehearse. Griff could add some quirkiness with his performance, maybe changing up the melody a little to suit his voice. Ethan plays the recording back to himself, cringing at how bare his voice sounds. It's raspy and sonorous, but the melody is clear and is catchy. He taps out a beat on his legs, imagining the song post-production. He closes his eyes, trying his best to picture the band onstage, seeing the faces of thousands of enthused fans belting the lyrics he's just written. The music video would have to be eighties inspired, perhaps they could hire some dancers or something or film it in a proper studio.

He's tempted to crawl to his drum set that currently lives in his living room. He wants to play on top of the recording, hear it properly. Ethan's limbs are too heavy, his body weak with tequila and guilt. How was he to know that Y/N actually liked him? Jesus, he is stupid. Ethan wants to apologise to her but he knows that would make him look bad, desperate even. As if sliding back into her text messages to say sorry for pretending their little rendezvous didn't happen would somehow make her want him again. Sorry is a great word, but it only goes so far.

Ethan must have fallen asleep at the keyboard. He wakes the next morning to light streaming through his opened blinds. Head pounding, nausea pulsing through him. He needs water and an aspirin.

This song is a fucking bop.

------

O C T O B E R  2 0 1 9

She's gorgeous. Otherworldly in the misty blue lights of the stage. She looks back at Maria, watching the brunette hits out a count of four with her sticks. Sara strums a chord, enticing the audience into the introduction of their song; a twang of the guitar and a heavy beat. On each accent, she throws her head back, her grin lighting up her face. The lights change colour to dusty pink, framing the girls and encapturing their beauty. Everyone has been sucked into their world, desperate to live in it.

Y/N presses her lips to the mic, tucking her hair behind her ear to keep it from her eyes. She glances at the people lining the front of the stage, smirking knowingly. She has them wrapped around her finger. On the cue of her voice, the beat drops. Maria pushes on with the pounding rhythm, hypnotizing and sharp. Sara quickly plucks a riff that has even Manny cheering.

'No Please don't cry I've never done this before Drove a million miles'

She's breathing melodically as if music pours from her soul. Y/N doesn't even look like she's trying, hitting every punch of the beat with her body. Swaying side to side as she fills the auditorium with high tempo melancholy. Ethan is so in awe of her. He wants her presence, wants to be that good of a performer. He's jealous of Maria's ability to keep perfect time, even as they play live. He wants to play the bass guitar with Sara's dexterity and verve. He wants Y/N.

'If I could change your mind I would hit the ground running It took time to realize And I never saw it coming Forgive my lying eyes Gonna give you all or nothing If I could change your mind I could make you mine, make you mine'

It's a great song. Like Grayson had mentioned earlier, it's not one he recognises. However, as he looks out into the mismatched faces of the audience, he notices that the majority of them seem to know the words. People are singing along, screaming and dancing. He wonders if his mother is enjoying, if Cameron is impressed. He certainly is.

"They're good, E," Grayson yells over the amps from behind him. "I know." "I wonder if this one's about you."

He does not have to turn around to see the smirk on his brother's face. This song is not about him, Y/N would never immortalise him in music. He's not great enough. There’s nothing to say that Maria or Sara did not write this song, it’s not exactly explicit. This song has a deep sentimental value to someone, his relationship (if it can even be called that) with Y/N is not one of deep sentimental value. Yes, it’s the main cause of all his daydreams - but it’s not love. He loves the idea of being in love with her, reckons he probably could fall in love with her within a few days. It’s utterly terrifying when it’s put into practice.

She turns to the wings, grinning at Manny who is bopping fiercely along to the tune. It’s as if the world presses the fastforward button on its remote when her eyes meet his. Everything rapidly speeds up, it’s almost headache-inducing. She’s narrowed her glitter-lined eyes gently, as if to focus on his features, to gauge whether or not he’s enjoying her performance. Y/N brings the mic to her lips, juts out her hip and sings to him. Regardless of whether or not the song was written about him or even written by her, this bit stings;

‘But if I was to say I regret it Would it mean a thing?’

Battles in the music world are dangerous, in the same way they are common. Battles in the music world with unexplored and unfinished feelings are incredibly perilous, in the same way they are uncommon. Ethan takes a deep breath.

------------

Hello! Long time no see! I’ve been so confused recently, but I was inspired by the lovely @ethanhes‘ post of a sort of band-inspired collage. I hope you guys like this! I’ve used Blossoms and HAIM’s music for each band, I just really love the vibe of the music and the lyrics seemed too appropriate! Lots of love x

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 16: Ethan*: Part One

Ethan* was the one where when I said to my friends, “I don’t want to have to write a stupid ‘dating in Tampa’ chapter about this guy…. He’s a good egg.” But here I am, writing it. 

I matched with Ethan* on Bumble during a super busy work week, we chatted about things briefly on the app, and I mentioned that I might be able to do a video chat rather than an in-person date easier that week because of my schedule. He agreed to it and asked if that night would work. So our first date is a rather spontaneous video date. I made dinner for myself and was eating it about 20 minutes before our time we picked up, when a piece of mozzarella got stuck in my throat and I was choking. I managed to dislodge the mozzarella cheese stuck in my throat, but was afraid my voice might be weird since I had just stuck my hand down my throat to save my own life.

He had said that he tended to be a little awkward on the phone. Despite the disclaimer, I found him to be perfectly fine on the phone. I told him about my near death experience prior to the call, and we had a laugh about it. We gave each other tours of our homes. He owns his and has completely renovated his place, which is pretty cool. I admired the handiwork of his home, especially the “shiny floors” that he had redone. I learn some quirks about him, such as being homeschooled until college and that he doesn’t like chocolate (weird). He also had mentioned that he was born in Northern Virginia, about ten minutes away from where I grew up and lived there until he was five, before moving to St. Pete. He never had typical pets, but did take care of some squirrels and some lizards, straight Florida kid shit. We ended the call recognizing we got along and generally understood each other. I knew he was 26 but turns out that I was like ten days short of exactly a year older. He immediately after said he was “excited to hang out... soon.” and that we seem to have a lot in common. Agreed.

I let him know that I have some questions for him before that, but that I’ll get to them. The next day, rather than doing that, my friend Lauren inspires me to make a legitimate dating application. I create this thorough Google form, which includes serious questions, as well as some less serious questions which are unfortunately inspired by my previous dating experience, i.e. do you chew with your mouth open? are you a warlock?, etc. I send this to him, and he hesitantly does it after I ask him to. His comment at the end is “I thought this was dumb, but I actually had fun.” From this form, I learn that truly Ethan* does have some similar goals to me. He also doesn’t want children. I ask what people are looking for and he responds with “Unsure yet, but I am open to anything from casual friends with benefits all the way up to a long term relationship if we are a good match. I don't have any future goals but I enjoy companionship and sex and seek these out in a partner.“ Seems like a fair expectation, which is kind of where I am at too. I send that same application to different people that I’ve matched with at the time, but Ethan* is definitely my front runner.   

This guy didn’t really match up to my usual douchebag energy guy I usually go for. He was a college athlete, wide receiver and ran track, and definitely still kept up with his physique. He had curly bronde hair that was slightly receding on the sides, a six-pack, and nicely sculpted shoulders and back. I knew ahead of time he was on the shorter side, that is, not over six feet tall. He owns a boat and also has a pilot’s license and flies planes for fun. Things that were definitely unique and super cool. He asked me if I would ever go flying with him, to which I enthusiastically said that would be cool. He didn’t know that learning to fly is also something on my bucket list, I would actually never have the chance to tell him. 

That weekend, a few days after our virtual date, I was finally done with my marathon of working long days and said I would be down for meeting up. He mentions his plans with his friends were canceled that night, and we decide to do something that night. I let him know I have an appointment and can come over after that, around 6. We discuss what we are going to do, we decide on a night in. I suggest tacos, however, he responds by asking if I like Chipotle. I inform him that since we live in a place where there are much greater options for local taco places, which aren’t Chipotle and basic, we should get that instead.  He then suggests a place by him we can go to, and we agree on that. However, this is also coming from a guy who said Papa Johns was his favorite type of pizza. With pineapple. 

I go for a comfy but not trying too hard look for that night. Some athletic leggings from Uniqlo, and a crop top. Ironically, I believe that exact ensemble is in one of my photos on Bumble, in hindsight. I excitedly text him about it being 7/11, which is free slurpee day, and ask if we can go. He says there’s a 7 Eleven by him that we can go to. I finished my appointment, which was actually a lip and eyebrow wax, and drove to his place. He asks me to park on the street so that he can drive his car to the taco place, and I sarcastically tell him that he’s going to have to drive around my car in the driveway. I then mention I’m on the way and will see him soon.

Usually, by the time I am going to meet someone in person, I have given them my number or other ways to contact me outside of the original app. My friend had suggested to me that I try to stay on these apps communication wise, until a successful first date. I was trying to follow this advice and since Ethan* and I were still communicating exclusively on Bumble, I was following that advice. Granted, he hadn’t really asked me either to change communication methods, so it worked out.

 I message him “Aqui” when I pull up to his house, and as I start to get my things out of my car he emerges from the front door to greet me. Immediately as I walk up and analyze him, I feel bad as a wave of disappointment falls over me. He in no way lied about his height on his profile, but definitely I overestimated how tall his height was. Otherwise, he was 100% authentic and who he said he was. He meekly asks about my appointment and if everything is okay, specifically asking if it was a doctors’ appointment. I admit I was actually getting a wax, then he compliments me saying that my brows look really nice and he otherwise wouldn’t have said anything as it would seem weird.

I then say I’m hungry and we should go get food. I get out to his car, which is a super nice Jeep Grand Cherokee, with a leather interior. Despite the nice car, I look down at the floor of the passenger seat, which is entirely covered in discard receipts. 

I mention this to him, and he gets super embarrassed about forgetting to clear his car before I arrived. Upon looking at the receipts as I help him clean, I recognize many of them are from Taco Bell. We bond however over the amazingness of Baja Blast being the ultimate drink. I insist we go to 7 Eleven first to get our slurpees, since I don’t want the food getting cold/soggy. We find out it isn’t really free slurpee day, due to COVID-19, and instead it’s a get a medium free next time with your membership there or something. So I get a medium anyway, so at least mine is free.

Next, we pull up to the taco joint, which is basically you walk up to a door to order. We discuss the menu and agree that fish is gross. He orders for us both, which I love, and sit briefly at a colorful picnic table outside of the restaurant. We are there not even one minute, when he asks if we can go to the little market that’s next to the restaurant. I say sure, and we browse the market. He picks up some apples and some grapes, and we just sort of look around. We are joking around and I quiz him on the “best type of apple,” which is sort of an inside joke at my full time job. 

He finishes his purchases and we sit at a different picnic table, while waiting again for our food. They bring it out and we take it back to his place. In the car he’s going between rap and pop music. I’m more or less into anything but country, so it’s a fair vibe. I figure since he was on a football team, that was probably what he was used to listening to in the locker room. 

Now that we’re back at his place, I excuse myself to the restroom. A man’s private restroom always says something about the man. Does he clean his bathroom? How many products does he have? Does he have that singular shampoo/conditioner/body wash combo bottle in his shower? His toilet definitely could use a scrub, same with his shower, but otherwise pretty well kept and he had separate products in his shower. 

I’m still feeling iffy about the guy due to his height, and when I sit down on the cough with him, he asks if I like South Park. Unfortunately we find out that South Park has been taken off Hulu and so we look for a back up. Then he asks about Rick and Morty; I love that show, so we turn that on for us to watch while we eat. He too is a couch eater, which is good since his dining table literally has no chairs around it. 

We share some laughs, we eat the food, we drink the slurpees. Once there’s no longer food to eat, he asks if I want to cuddle. I say “uhm okay.” I remember a message he had sent me the day before where I said I hope he doesn’t try to cuddle in my lap like my dog, and he had responded “what if I did? jk. but really do you like to cuddle?” And I’m wondering if I’ve gotten myself into a stage 5 clinger situation. Somehow I become like the guy, as he is nuzzled onto my belly and I have my arm around him. Later he asks to spoon, and I’m like yeah that’s fine. As I’m sure that’s less awkward than what we’re doing now. Though if I wasn’t so uncertain about him, the previous position probably would have been cute and endearing. While we were cuddling, we talked about goals and briefly about my application. He talks more about how he flies planes on the side, and that his goal is to join the National Guard as a pilot. The cut off is 32, so essentially he wanted to gain more and more flying experience so he could join before the cutoff. I have never really been particularly interested in being involved with someone in the military, so that was almost a turn off for me. However, I did this it was good that he had solid goals he was continually working on.

Regardless, I’m still having a good time. He’s a nice and entertaining guy, and we mesh well. It starts to get late, so I mention it’s time I go. Before I leave, I remember we have still only been talking via Bumble, I ask him for his number. I then realize I also don’t know his last name, so I also ask for his last name. I realize his initials are “Eh,” which I find humorous, so I text him “eh” to let him know it’s me. Which also described how I was feeling at that moment. 

He then walks me to my car and I give him a hug, and then he kisses me. Even though I wasn’t really feeling kissy after this date, I realize it is actually a really nice kiss and tell him I’ll let him know when I get home. I think back to Aaron* where he wasn’t the best kisser, and think oh well that’s nice. 

I get home and stew over the date, thinking about what I’m going to do about this guy. He texts me the next day saying “Would it be bad if I already wanted to see you again tonight?” I tell him I have plans, which isn’t a lie, I do, and let him know I’m free the next night. We set up another hang out at his place. 

In my mind, I determine the way I’ll figure out my feelings is to sleep with him. “If the sex is good,” I think to myself, “then that should get me over the height thing. And if it’s terrible, then I’m outtie anyway.”

[loopy777]

following up on your wastly superios republic city, how would you rewrite asami's role in this new city, the city related plot, and her relationship with korra?(i cannot imagine you'dd want to keep the terrible love trialngle for this story). do you think opening their relationship on a romantic note with clear attraction from the start or have it develop more slowly over the course of the first book would better?

I don’t usually talk much about Asami here on Tumblr because I have lots of criticisms of her character and Korrasami, and this site enables such things to be passed along out of context and co-opted for agenda-driven bashing. I don’t think Asami or Korrasami are any worse than any of LoK’s other failures, and at least it’s bad writing for a good cause. Unlike Iroh II, who's just bad writing. Heyo!

Also, I’ve mainly been thinking about Book Air with all my talk of Republic City, but discussing the development of the dynamic between Korra and Asami is going to take us beyond that, and so outside of Republic City.

So let’s see how much I can answer this question without stepping over my self-imposed line.

First of all, I would introduce Asami independently of Mako, and you’re right, I wouldn’t bother with a love triangle. I don’t like that LoK ended on a romantic moment for either Book Air's climax or the finale finale, because the whole first episode is completely devoid of romantic matters or potential suitors. It’s one thing for AtLA, where Katara provides the opening narration and Aang’s crush on her is established at their first meeting; their getting together is the culmination of their respective coming-of-age arcs, which is why Book Fire stretches Kataang out so much and so nonsensically.

Korra's journey is never really about romance. It’s about seeing the world and making connections; Tenzin, her guide into the wider world, is the one who narrates the opening to her story. So I’d expect her final scene to be about all the friends she’d made and her place in the world, not a single romance and a vacation to the Spirit World. But Korra’s main character arc is over by the end of Book Spirits, anyway, so I can understand just ripping off AtLA for something feel-good. Also, considering the limitations in what could be shown, I guess they wanted as many parallels to AtLA as possible to make sure everyone got that Korra and Asami are romantic.

So, with the benefit of hindsight and the goal of endgame Korrasami, we can introduce Asami earlier to give her proper prominence. In the first episode, while careening through the city, Korra encounters Asami. There is no blushing or giggling or anything when Korra and Asami meet, because that's not how Korra or Asami react to attraction. I'm thinking we can replace the whole thing with the hobo and the illegal fishing, since that material can be covered later; perhaps Asami buys Korra food when she sees Korra has no money? But before they can exchange names, something happens that sends them off on a short adventure, and then they get separated.

In episode 2, instead of encountering Mako and Bolin while trying to break out of Air Island to see Probending, Korra encounters Asami again. Asami is likewise sneaking out to see Probending, and she’s a parallel to Korra in that she’s a victim of social isolation. Asami recognized Korra, gives a shout, and they exchange names and bond as fellow probender-geeks. Once that’s done, the girls somehow wind up meeting Mako and Bolin, Korra gets the chance to join the team, etc. Asami would help convince Mako to let Korra play. The end result is Korra with a big group of friends, no romantic hints about anyone (other than maybe Bolin having the hots for her, a situation that will be temporary), and an explicit connection between Korra starting to ‘get’ Airbending and the perspectives offered by her new friends. Perhaps Mako or Bolin shout some advice that gets the circle-walking to click for her, or it could be another thing for Asami to do.

This would be explicit foreshadowing for the Book Air finale, where Korra uses Airbending for the first time to defeat Amon. But instead of Mako being the one in danger, it’s all Korra’s friends, and the scene would be set up as an explicit parallel to the one in the second episode. Korra achieves freedom through her connections, people who show her new sides of herself and the world.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. For most of Book Air, I think Asami and Korra can be partners in discovering Republic City. The Bending Brothers can introduce them to some new element, and the girls react to it in similar but disparate ways. Asami can sometimes be a bit of a snob, while Korra can be more into getting dirty or eating nasty food or belching or whatever. But they still do get moments of going to a dance hall together, getting pulled into street racing together, helping each other chase the corruption out of Probending, etc. Still, a little distance comes between the two, as Korra starts to see herself connecting better with the boys, especially Bolin. If we want to deal with Bolin trying to woo Korra and it not working out, this is the place to do it.

However, rather than romance and a love triangle, the main conflict between Korra’s Krew is Asami being courted by the Equalists. As I said in my other post, rather than the Equalists kicking things off with criminal activity and a direct confrontation with Korra, I’d like them to be a running subplot that only explodes at the end of the season. I think Asami could be a good viewpoint character into that, as she starts to learn and hear about the Equalists- and it will eventually be revealed that Hiroshi has been setting this up for her, to manipulate her. Remember, in my vision, he’s the one who got Amon to adopt the rhetoric of saving the oppressed by eliminating Benders.

It starts with Asami thinking it’s silly, then she starts to acknowledge that they have some good points even if they’re wrong about being against all Benders. Perhaps Asami explains to Korra about some of the good points, and Korra is skeptical but admits that the Bender gangs are a problem. I think this should come to a head in a similar manner to the cartoon when Hiroshi comes under some kind of suspicion. Instead of getting tangled in the love triangle, Mako and Bolin side with Korra right away, and Asami starts to wonder if the Benders really are oppressing her. She knows she’s sheltered and naive, and Hiroshi puts into her head that Korra and the Bending Brothers have been taking advantage of her sweetness and wealth. Asami's been paying for all their adventures, after all, and the others seem closer to each other than to her.

It still ends with Hiroshi’s villainy being revealed, and Asami siding with good guys over him. But here, it’s about Asami siding with her friends, rather than just Mako. This is all still without romance, but it’s laying the seeds.

Things continue on from there, and the only major change I feel the need to call out is that the team doesn’t split up for the final battle. They’re all together, and as I said, Korra has to save all her friends with Airbending. And there's no Iroh II, because he's just boring pointless fan-service who detracts from the other characters.

For Book Spirits, I’d toss out Asami’s whole subplot. I used to have an epic post on ASN (which I saved) describing how it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but you can just take my word on it for now. If we do something similar to my Spiritual Eco-Terrorist Unalaq idea, then we can turn Asami’s part of bringing Korra back away from extremism into a parallel of Korra convincing Asami to turn against the Equalists. This book also sees a minimizing of Mako and Bolin, since part of the story is going to take place outside of Republic City. Asami has more reason to leave, so she emerges as Korra’s strongest friend in this book. Bolin could still get mixed up Varrick, if we want to do that subplot, but we’re completely skipping the whole thing of Varrick trying to steal Asami’s company. It's just filler, and the themes of Book Spirits deserve more focus.

Instead, we say that Asami has been steadily rebuilding up Sato Industries in the background of Book Spirits, so she’s in a position to leave it running when she goes with Korra on the Airbender Recruitment Tour. Again, I’m thinking we leave Mako and Bolin behind. Or, if Bolin went off with Varrick at the end of Book Spirits, as I suggested in that Unalaq post, either just Mako is left behind or else he goes with the girls to try to get over his brother being gone. They support him during his loss, and he maybe develops a real bond with Jinora’s future boyfriend, Whatshisname, rather than that subplot being unceremoniously dropped. Eventually, Bolin and Varrick would come back into the story, although maybe not until Book Balance.

Also, Book Change is where we start to have Korra and Asami blushing at each other and making surprising vows of devotion to each other. As Korra explores romance, in parallel to Jinora, we could get some advice from Tenzin and maybe even discussion of how Aang changed the nature of Air Nomad culture by accepting the idea of family units. At the end, when Korra is injured and Asami practically proposes marriage, it won’t come out of left field; it will feel like a culmination. And Korra gives an explicit refusal, our cliffhanger for that subplot.

Hm, perhaps we can also properly introduce Kuvira while we’re here? She can join the Krew as an ally and friend, and part of what has Asami starting to think about Korra as something more than a friend is that Kuvira is explicitly trying to seduce Korra for fun. That might be amusing. Or it could be stupid. It is a love triangle, after all. It's easy enough to cut if we can't make it work, even if the voice actresses have already recorded their lines.

Anyway, as we launch into our final season, Korra starts to recover to find that the Metalbending chick who was (maybe) trying to seduce her is now leading an imperialist conquest of the Earth Kingdom, and also a new Amon is back in Republic City trying to bring down the government. This new Amon is a creation of Kuvira, to give her an excuse to invade the United Republic as a pacifying force. Korra and Asami have to bring down Amon II, and then also Kuvira. It’s very tragic that they have to beat up their former friend, but not too tragic because it turns out that Kuvira is a real jerk.

Timing-wise, as I mentioned in my Hiroshi post, he dies saving Asami from Amon II. This happens before the final battle, so we get to see Asami mourning for a bit as she and Korra go after Kuvira in a new sub-arc. She emerges ready to confess her love to Korra. They get together, and then Korra rallies all her friends and allies across the world to defeat Kuvira and restore freedom to the galaxy. The end sees Korra and Asami together, as romantic partners, amidst all their friends. The End. Huzzah!

Hopefully, that showed how a functional Korrasami arc could be done that makes good use of their characters and frees them from the really janky storytelling that plagues most of LoK. Most of the problem is that LoK seemed intent on giving Asami something separate to do, rather than properly integrating her into things. For all that the storytellers claim to like Asami and Korrasami, it's stunning how little of either -- even in terms of friendship -- there is to the plots and story arcs.

Ah, but there's the line. I shall now back off, rather than crossing it. Yay for me.

[sweetdollfromhell]

Chilling tales of Riverdale, a crossover fic

Chapter 6 of a old fanfic but stil alive that is a mix of Riverdale, CAOS and Archie horror. Located in season 2 and will have differences with the canon for both shows. This fanfic contains corrections for something that bothers me in the canon like the fact that Toni's actress is not a first nation (this detail is there but presented differently and I hope to use the terms correctly ), the weird thing with the multi-cultural neo-Nazi (plus I go with the comic book where Archie is Jewish), the impacts of the snake dance, Joaquim (because it's weird that these friends talk about it exactly once in 22 episodes and in a disposable sentence), for Sabrina's family, as shocking as it sounds, given the dates given, yes Sabrina's father is literally 10 years older than Ambrose in  the show canon (not the actors, I know but it's worth wondering if Ambrose is aging well or if Edward is aging badly)and yes, you can find Toni or Sabrina pretty bitchy towards one or the other but don’t be afraid, no one is going to become a bad guy for the purposes of the plot, I just think they would have tensions between the two given the situation (I really like the two chararctere and I expect a possible friendship because who doesn't like Vitriolic Best buds?)Sorry, it was a long explanation, but I didn't want people to misunderstand my intentions.

*******************************************************************************************

-What do you think of Archie's plan? Asked Betty of Kevin.

-That it may come from a noble intention, but it will end badly.  You know how many accidents happen because a few idiots thought they knew better than everyone else," replied the young man. -And let's just say, if I'm willing to trust Archie, I doubt a little more about Reggie or Dilton. But we're a little hypocritical of ourselves.

-What do you mean? Asked Betty surprised her.

-Hello Betty, the whole Jason Blossom case where we played Scooby-doo? Call Kevin back.

-Maybe but we must do something... Me and Jug met tonight to read some documents that will help us with the black hood case. Do you want to come?

Kevin was surprised by the invitation asking if Betty is still trying to make amends but realizes that the runaway was at her boyfriend's house. Yeah, he was going to let him benefit from the doubt.  

-Isn't that going to stress your guest out?

-Sabrina? Uh, I don't know, she seems really in need of human contact, I guess he won't have a problem. We just must avoid talking about where it comes from. She almost had a panic attack when I tried to talk about it. And I hope you like cats.  

Once in front of Jughead's trailer, Betty and Kevin will knock on the door. Toni open them up.

-Hello Toni," said Betty, surprised to see her there. -I didn't know you'd be here.

- Jugh told me about your project and it's a subject I'm passionate about too. I see you brought someone along too.

-Oh yes, here is Kevin Keller, said the young woman to introduce her friend who reached out to her.

-Hi.

-Toni Topaz, said the interested party, but she did not take his hand. -In, Jugh is gone looking for food for everyone and I stayed here to babysit Poison Ivy.

-I heard that! Shouted a voice in the Caravan.

-That was the goal, Toni replied.

As Betty and Kevin entered, Sabrina came to meet them. She looked much more presentable than when Betty saw her in the drinks. She had worn a vintage horror red t-shirt, a short black skirt, a big jean jacket with a wool lining, knee socks with striped , mary-James, un gold necklace and the headband given by Toni held her short hair in place.

-Betty! I am happy to see you again," said the girl smiling.

-I am also happy to see you again Sabrina," Betty replied surprised by the welcome. -This is Kevin," she continued.

Sabrina looked up at the young man with an intriguing look before reaching out.

-Hello Kevin, it's nice to meet you.

-I also like your cute grunge loli look, I especially like your Gremlin shirt," Kevin continued, watching it blush.

-Thank you, it's probably one of the most representative things in my wardrobe... Most of my clothes are practical.

-Oh what a shame, maybe Ronnie can lend you something...

Kevin kept talking with Sabrina about everything and nothing that probably lowered her defenses, Betty hoped.   She went to Toni wondering what to say to her: she wanted to silence that stupid feeling of jealousy in her and become friends with that person whom Jughead clearly appreciated but she had no idea how to interact with that person. She decides to try the banality.

-I hope we have enough for everyone," she tried clumsily. -You will tell me what we owe you and Jughead.

-You will ask your non cousin, she is the one who is buying, Toni replied.

Betty was surprised to see that Toni knew the lie to invent about Sabrina's origin (she was her cousin exception if the question was asked by the Cooper or the Sheriff, then it would be Jughead's) but let it go

-Oh, that's nice of him.

-No, it's necessary. Because personally, if I were Jug, I'd throw away everything in my fridge!

-I'm not sure I understand," Betty said troubled.

Toni sighed before explaining below:

-You know the Ghoulies who attacked you?

-Yes?

-She didn't just beat them, she poisoned them.

-What? Says Betty surprised. - How? How? Are they...?

-With a mushroom junk from which she had covered her broom. They are in the hospital, Miss swears that even if it has violent effects it can be treated well and without any backlash but still. Personally, I won't eat what she's cooking just so we know more about Jolly Jane. Note, having a criminal mind could be useful even if there is a world of difference between a teenage poisoner whose primary purpose is not murder and a guy in his forties who kills by violent means such as a gun or knife. Both are motivated by punishing someone they consider having committed a crime.

Betty was speechless when she heard the revelation; it was a little too much for just five minutes.

-I... she... how did you come to that conclusion?  Does it end with a request?

-Jug and I have to investigate," Toni answered proudly. -And she has no choice but to confess.

-I see, said Betty trying to untangle what she was feeling. -But you said she didn't want to kill them?

-That's what they lend and for what I learned about this thing, it seems possible but it's still dangerous. Shit, I was there when one of the Ghoulies developed symptoms, he could have had a concussion or choked on his vomit. I don't have them in my heart and I believe her when she says they wanted to see harm done. ¨Damn, they already beat him up once....

-What? Exclaimed Betty, unwittingly drawing Sabrina and Kevin's attention.

-You didn't know... Toni realized. -Sorry, I didn't mean to... Hey, you two, it's a private conversation," she said.

-Sorry, but it's a little hard to ignore when space is so limited, and no one is discreet, Kevin replied.

- Not to mention the fact that most people have the decency to talk behind their backs when they are not in the room, says Sabrina with an icy voice.

-Oh, that's cute, you think I didn't want you to know," Toni mocked.

Betty wants to calm things down in between but also asks Sabrina and Jughead for explanations while we're at it. Because right now one part is shocked by her revelations but another part that she would like to silence herself thinks it's well done for the Ghoulies. But two things stop her; the first is something that only lasts for a moment and that she is the only one who has noticed.

She had felt ants crossing her and a sudden cold and noticed Sabrina's eyes: it seemed as if the pupils were dilating... No, not really, not really that they seemed to want to pass the iris without making it disappear by swallowing only the white, but the operation started without ending, the pupil returning to its normal size so quickly. A play of light, fatigue, who knows?

The other was the sound of the door opening to reveal Jughead carrying many of Pop.

-Hi, a little help would be nice.

Kevin and Toni hurry to help while the two blondes stay where they belong.

-Toni told you what? Asked Sabrina whispering.

-That you've been poisoning people. Do you confirm?

-Yes, but only in self-defense. I'm not stupid or cruel either, Betty.  I took something that's not fatal and with obvious symptoms, so they'd have to see a doctor. This way, he had less risk of complications if something went wrong. A silent aggressor is worse than a noisy one.  

-It seems like you're talking about experience...says Betty was confused.

-I told you, my ancestors were pretty good at it and we kept their notes. We try to keep their knowledge alive and learn the tricks that can be used.

-That explains Toni's comment.  

-You don't have to be afraid of me," Sabrina said in an almost begging tone.

Her sentence made Betty uncomfortable but not for the reason she thought she did. Sabrina seemed more frightened at the thought of being repelled than any consequence has its actions. She also had a darkness in her that terrorized her, something dark that if she pointed her dirty head at her, would drive away all those who had never had affection for her. Because Betty still wonders why Veronica was talking to her after what she did to Chuck, how Archie could say he wasn't good enough for her after knowing him all his life, why Jughead loved her and treated her as a fragile thing rather than some kind of monster escaping from the asylum. Was Sabrina just a rebellious child who became pariah like Polly or a good soul who had to learn never to let her guard down to survive like Kevin.  

With hindsight, these next actions would seem very stupid, but too bad.

-I'm not afraid of you. For the moment, you haven't tried to hurt me or my loved ones, on the contrary, you wanted to protect us. So it's okay, but if you have other things you'd like to tell us that are important, it's better if you do it quickly. So that we can help you and avoid unpleasant surprises, but I would understand if you don't feel ready yet. It's just... I think it's a lot of trouble for Toni and...

-You too, Sabrina finished.

Not for the reasons you think, would have wanted to answer Betty. Because after this new information given by Toni, Sabrina could literally make the Ghoulies regurgitate their guts and bleed their eyes for what concerns her! And the one that realized horrifying her more than the idea that Sabrina was an expert in poison.  

-I...

-Betty? Are you coming?

-Of course, Betty replied, giving her an emergency exit to allow Sabrina to leave the conversation.

Surprisingly, they had enough food for everyone and no one tried to tear someone else's face off. Sabrina's cat, Salem, had decided to make his presence known once the food was served, searching for it. He had managed to get some from his mistress, Betty and Kevin. As a reward, the young man even won that the animal settled on his lap by purring with satisfaction.  In fact, Betty realized that the group she and Jughead had assembled was actually quite effective: Toni had experience in the darker parts of the city had several ideas or the killer could have found an unregistered weapon in addition to his interest in criminology, Kevin also shares this passion in addition to having literally grown up among the criminal cases thanks to his father and Sabrina seemed to know more about the dark history of the region whether it was Riverdale, Greendale, Sunnydale or other city in the region without speaking that Toni had been right for this criminal mentality story.

-You can find a weapon anywhere, see it taken from no one where you are and delete the number is easy with the right contacts, says Toni.

- The guy probably also has security experience because he knows so much about surveillance and if he doesn't succeed in all these crimes, he didn't leave any clues.  It means that his first concern is his safety," Kevin continued.

-Speaking of which, am I the only one who thinks her motive is fake? False-Grundy of what you explained made sense in the sin department to be a pedophile but the other victims? Two teenagers taking drugs and perhaps having some adventurous caress?  A single man who had a short affair with a married woman for whom he may have had real rather than purely sexual feelings and who acts like a saint the rest of the time? added Sabrina. -A little weak as sinners, don't you think? And this even if he was only motivated by lust.

-The best thing would be to make a list of everything they have in common, Jughead cut out. -It can't hurt.

Betty felt her stomach twisting as she thought back to the serial killer's letters and saw Kevin's strong gaze. She would rather keep quiet, it could have been just a stupid joke after all....

-Easy! All from Nordside and privilege! Says Toni.

- Fake Grundy came from Greendale, Moose is the eldest of six children with parents composed of a soldier and a mother who has a home daycare not what I would call privileged, corrected her Kevin. -Moose has already said that if he can get into a good university it will only be because he is good at football and they will want more minorities.

-Fred Andrew is also not rolling in gold,gave up Jughead.

- Grundy still lived in Nordside, Toni continued. -And how is this guy a minority? She continued surprised.

- His mother is an Amerindian. But she was adopted so Moose just knows the name of her tribute, unfortunately. And before you ask, they never had any government money for it because his mother thinks it's horrible to just use it to make ends meet, Kevin concluded.

-Uktena? Sabrina asked.

-I think so, said Kevin.

-Impossible, said Toni. -I am one and I've never heard of him.

-That's normal, isn't it? They were almost all massacred, only children and a few naaldlooshiis survived. The first dispersed to the four winds and the second having found refuge in Greendale. Honestly, that's the way it is in every small town, if you go through people's genealogies, discover lots of weird links and cousins you didn't know you had.

Betty almost laughed as she remembered the whole drama with her family and the Blossoms. Oh my God, she didn't know how right she was.

-And I'm going to be honest like Moose, I wouldn't have known you were if you hadn't told me, Sabrina continued. By whom, by the way?

-My grandfather, Toni answered quickly.

-Oh, so you're a Native American quarter?

-Well, technically yes," said Toni suddenly uncomfortable.

-Technically? Insista Sabrina.

-He is my grandmother's husband but he is not the father of his children, but he adopts them and raises them! So that counts, right? She defended herself.

-It makes him a good man and definitely your grandfather! But as a very white girl, I'm not going to get into a discussion about whether you can say you're culturally Native American," says Sabrina laughing.

-Are you from your origins? Oh, don't worry, don't you have to talk about Mom and Dad, just say if you have something interesting in there? Asked Toni, frustrated at having been taken to class.

-My grandfather was an American, but he lived in England where he met my grandmother who was herself a mixed English and Australian. They got married, they have my three aunts before returning to the United States and having my father. The oldest of my aunts is staying there with her late husband.

-Did she marry young or does she just have a big difference with your father? Ask Jugh.

-Both. My father and cousin must be about ten years apart. Her husband was Afro-English and otherwise we also crossed the geneological tree we have German, Indian, French and Uktena

-What's is that word you use? Nanalooshi? Asked Kevin.

-An abomination/victim! Both girls said with a heart.

-Okay. Maybe…, Betty began.

-Hey, it's my culture! These people were criminals who deserved their fate! Says Toni.

-Need I remind you that being gay or having an abortion was once a crime? Most of his people were healers for not being able to heal someone or sick people rejected out of fear? Says Sabrina.

Jughead decided to intervene at that moment:

-Maybe get back to the main topic? I don't think we can solve this issue tonight, but maybe the Black Hood issue.

The two girls stared at each other but obeyed each other. Jughead continued:

-I admit that even if there is still the possibility that only attacks people he can reach and leaves out targets like Hiram Lodge, it doesn't go with his provocative attitude.

-Overcompensation? ask Kevin.

Jughead shook her unconvinced head before turning to Sabrina.

-Sabrina, can I ask you something else with this investigation and was hoping for an honest answer?

-Wow, almost no pressure! Says Sabrina uncomfortable. -You can always try. I wouldn't lie, but I keep the privilege of pleading the fifth.

The cat suddenly stopped purring on Kevin's lap and he felt it tender. Did the animal feel the stress of its owner?

-I suspect that Greendale is not a village, but have you known anyone with a connection to the real Miss Grundy or the fake one? Her real name was Jennifer Gibson, known as Jughead.

Sabrina seemed to reassure immediately, and the cat became soft again on Kevin's lap.

-Oh, just that. I don't know Jennifer or any Gibson. I know a little bit of some of the Grundy family, but it's just that we went to the same church. I can try to answer as best I can about them if you want but I don't see anything very useful in it.  

-Do you think the killer could have come from there? Suddenly ask Kevin.

-What makes you think that? Asked Betty surprise.

-He was very comfortable with this attack: he succeeded in his murder and was much more violent with it. It was a crime of passion! If the killer hadn't sent personal belongings from the other victims, I would have said it was someone who wanted revenge on her and made it look like the work of the Blackhood," Kevin explained.

-Aren't you saying this whole thing would be a plot to get rid of fake Grundy? Toni asked.

-It does seem a little big to me, says Betty.

-There may be another explanation... Sabrina whispered.

This time, the cat jumps from Kevin's knees to Sabrina's knees, who mechanically started stroking him.

-It's a little silly, but maybe the reason he took his time was because he knew no one would bother him.

-Because he attacked her at home? Asked Betty.

-Among other things. But also... It's really stupid but... It's Greendale. Let us say that the population has certain habits. Like not leaving the house after dark. Especially if you hear screams.

Toni laughs before answering:

-It's Greendale, not Los Angeles! What the hell are you gonna do if I drag you into my corner!

Sabrina looked at Toni with deep boredom and replied:

-I never said I was part of a superstitious population, on the contrary I loved walking at night! But I can tell you that I am a minority and even outside there are people who will hesitate. The city has traumas that night brings back.

-What kind of trauma?" Betty asked.

-Want to hear stories of heroes and monsters? This is far from our study topic....

-Oh no! No! I want to hear this story! Exclaimed Kevin with stars in his eyes. It's even better when it's based on real-life experience.

Kevin had always been fascinated by horror and gore, never missing an opportunity to expand his repertoire of history by the fire.

-I guess a break can't hurt, Betty yielded.  

The cat jumped from Sabrina's knees to take refuge in the room, Sabrina looked at him worried but quickly recovered.  

Sabrina smiled and began her story:

-The settlers would arrive in America...

-Seriously, how far do you have to start? Toni asked.

-It's just a summary to get you in the mood! So all his settlers are there to escape persecution and build a free and accepting land...It really took a hypocritical level of hypocrisy crazy enough to believe such shit. The local population is mistreated like women, pocs, other religions and everything else that comes out of their morals stuck puritanically to the impossible criteria. In this wonderful hell on earth that the trials of heretics begin, it seems, very ironic when you consider that most people have fled from these persecutions in Europe. The most famous of his trials is of course Salem and this despite who is not the most murderous, in fact he shines by his mediocrity! His popularity is probably related to his industry from the beginning turning murder, torture, rape and treason into entertainment for the whole family, go figure! Sabrina continued.

-Well, Confederate soldiers have statues, don't they? Not to mention dumb people like Christophe Colom, says Toni coldly.

-True, Toni, that's right. But good for us the rest of the story is more joyful: Greendale is not spared by this madness, the vast majority of non-Puritanical settlers had even been driven from the lands they had or they had settled by the most extremist leaving them without homes or resources and some poor souls are offered in sacrifice to their larvae addictive to the suffering of others. Hanging slowly, fighting to keep the air from their lungs, losing control of functions in front of their beaten child in front of their execution zones with religious leaders telling them to bow their heads and let the scapegoats be sacrificed for the good of others, Sabrina continued, filled with cold anger.

-Sabrina, don't bother to be so precise we just ate," moans Betty.

-Betty, you've been through worse, make fun of Kevin nicely.

Jughead attracts his girlfriend against him and Sabrina takes over:

-So many decided that they were because it was all women who were tired of shaving walls and just watched them suffer! They had to expect it badly and no consequence could be worse than what they were going through, to act. They will not flee, they will not hide and more importantly, they will no longer let people get hurt with impunity....

-One of your ancestors among them, Sabrina? Jughead asked curiously.

-Not impossible, Sabrina said with a little smile. So they broke into his so-called hunters, judges and other criminals who hide under titles. They would find them and their families: they would slit their throats, skin them alive and tear their hearts still beating from their chests! And to make the message clear, they will throw their carcasses to the same trees where their victims were murdered!

Betty looked at the storyteller in shock, so the way Sabrina told her story was disturbing. You could feel a kind of pride and respect in his words. And his expression! Betty thought she would rather have seen a psychotic smile than that kid's expression of a joke, laughing eyes and a candid smile!

-And with the bodies a note sticking on one of the bodies warning that it was not revenge, only a warning. If such horror were to happen again in Greendale or even in a nearby town or village, they would be happy to show that they had not yet seen anything! And it worked, the inhabitants of Greendale learned how to love and respect its slightly different inhabitants. Night and the forest have remained their domain and even nowadays, one can laugh at his stories, at night when the moon shines and one wonder if one waits for a cry in the distance, that sometimes perhaps just maybe, there is still one of his women who watches over the grain. And fine! Sabrina said, clapping her hands.

-Great story! I wish Riverdale had had something like that! Says Kevin with a big smile.

-Not bad, I admit that it's nice that oppressing them wins and not because of the power of love or some shit like that," Toni said.

-Not sure that people will build a museum to attract tourists with this history... Seeing children, violence is sometimes the solution, says Jughead more troubled.

-Are you saying they killed their families too? Asked Betty to horrify.

-Yes, Sabrina said as she realized the implications. -But they had done the same thing... and if it makes you feel better, as much they had peace after that, as much the women or at least the woman who organized everything had to pay for it to the leaders of her community more for overriding their permission than because they had problems with her methods. No problem has taken advantage of the benefits anyway I don't think anyone is learning anything new.

-Indeed, and it continues to this day! The minorities pay, suffer and fight while the rest benefit from advancing by posing as moral guardians," says Toni gloomily.

Jughead clumsily tapped Toni's shoulder but she seemed to appreciate the attention.  

-So, your theory is that people if they heard something, they didn't do anything because of these stories? Says Betty, still trying to silence her illogical feelings by focusing on something else.

-I know it sounds stupid, but superstition is stupid by definition! Easy to say that it's bullshit in broad daylight with friends, it's a whole different story at night, alone when every shadow looks like a ghost. You don't care about people who believe in Bloody Mary but not enough to try the ritual just to prove to them that it's bullshit. My point is that maybe this guy was lucky or maybe he knew they had old monsters to use as a screen but in the end, he could kill her.

-So, we eliminate the theory that false Grundy was his only intended victim, but we add that he can come from Greendale or at least be familiar with the city? Asked Kevin.

Everyone nodded, and Kevin wrote their last notes.

-What's the result? Asked Jughead.

-Uh... male, white, in his forties, with a high probability of having green eyes, height and average weight according to the information we have, in good physical condition, knows how to shoot, knows the city of Riverdale and Grendales well, has access to private information, seems obsessed with the sins of the city which may indicate that he is religious in a way, concludes Kevin by always having a supportive eye towards Betty. -In other words, we don't have much.

-Bright green eyes are the rarest natural color in humans, only 2% of the population has eyes of this color, says Jughead.

-Ironic as a remark in a room with 3 people with green eyes, Kevin remarked, referring to himself, Betty and Sabrina, all of whom have eyes of this color. He could even have included Jughead so the look oscillating between green and blue.

Everyone stared at him for a moment Kevin who caught up:

-Hey, I'm not accusing anyone, it was just a remark that includes me too! You don't have to get paranoid.  

-Yes, in addition, limiting oneself to only people with green eyes would be counterproductive. Archie was in shock, the Blackhood's eyes could be hazelnut or blue but seemed green because of the lighting, Jughead recalled.

-We should still prioritize them without kidnapping suspects because they have a different color," says Betty.

-Good idea," Jughead approved.

-Speaking of Archie, can either of you explain how the fact that his father got shot gives him the right to leave a neo-Nazi group? Said frustrated Toni.

The other four turned to Toni, shocked by his accusations.

-Toni, what are you talking about the red circle? Asked troubled Betty.

-Yes, I'm talking about these morons! Ready to attack the southside in the first movement! Toni continued.

-I didn't know that the neo-Nazis had become multicultural," says Sabrina coldly.

-Sorry? Toni asked.

-Apology accepter, Sabrina quickly said, taking advantage of Toni's poor choice of words. -But my point is that I don't understand why you call a multi-ethnic group without any iconography related to fascism or Nazism, Sabrina continued.

-And Archie is Jewish by his mother, feels obliged to specify Betty to defend Archie. Information that was greeted by a frustrated look from Tony and a satisfied look from Sabrina.  

-They had hoods... Toni began.

And they were bare-chested, usually except for a bad case of Vertigo, people have the same color face and torso, the Sabrina cut.

-I was going to say that the KKK wears hoods too! Toni defended himself.

-Like many Islamic extremist groups or pussyriots, I don't see you accusing them of being one or the other, Sabrina continued.

-As soon as we could all agree that it looked like bad porn at first? Tempted awkwardly Kevin only reaping the fiery gaze of the two girls.  Betty also tried to calm the situation down:

-This is the third time we've changed the subject, I think it's a sign that everyone is getting tired. We've made good progress, so why are we getting

-Sorry, but if it's to make the Southside serve as a scapegoat, then it'll be without me, Toni shouted before leaving the caravan.

-Toni, wait! Says Jughead as he goes to his suite leaving the other three alone.

Betty sighed with her head between her hands.

-Sorry," said Sabrina. -I shouldn't have corrected it.

-You didn't do anything wrong," Betty said flatly. -She needed to vent her anger one way or another, my sister is the same.

- Do you have a sister?

-Yes, Polly.

(And a brother somewhere she thought silently).

-Is it just Polly, Pollyanna or Appoly? Sabrina asked.

-Uh... Pollyanna, says Betty surprised by the question. -My mother likes the classics, Pollyanna after the novel of the same name and I am Elizabeth after Pride and Prejudice.

Kevin had a little laugh, from what he knew about Betty's mother, a novel about an indescribable optimist and another about the danger of preconceived ideas and misplaced pride seemed quite funny from Alice Cooper. Betty seemed to think the same thing because her expression seemed closer to a I know what you think than a hurt expression.

- Not everyone can have a name with a cool meaning, others like your servant are named after the top 10 popular names of 2003, complains Kevin. - What about you? Was he a fan of the movie with Audrey Hepburn? Asked Kevin.

-Maybe. But I think the important part was the A at the end," says Sabrina.

-The A? continued Kevin that Betty could see mentally taking notes.

-All the girls in my family for more than 400 years have a name that ends in A even if it means changing the spelling: Sabrina, Zelda, Hilda, Vesta, Esmeralda, Lydia, Priscilla, Evanora, Locasta Kezia, Sara and many more!

-I hope there are still some good ones left among them, Kevin continued.

-We'll see, you already must have a daughter on the way to do that! Retorqued Sabrina.

-I hope it's not too bad with Toni," says Betty as she leaves with Kevin.

-Yes, especially since Sabrina should have apologized to me. I had planned to make connections with her, replied this one.

-Did you want to hear from Joaquin? Asked Betty.

-I just wanted to know if he was okay," Kevin said hastily. -His life was not exactly easy and no matter what happened between us, I don't wish him any misfortune.

-I don't judge, on the contrary if you came back together, we could have double dates with our snake buddies, Betty tried.

-Yes, and we can visit them together in prison," says Kevin sarcastically. -Why don't you ask the question that burns your tongue?

-On Sabrina?

-On Luna Lovegood herself.

-So?

She's self-monitoring, I can confirm that, but she talks as much as I do and if she tries to be careful, she lets things slip. She comes from Greendale with her family who has been there for a long time, among the names of women she named some are obscure enough that if Spellman is her real name can find them. Plus, she was talking about doing a congregation and seems to have had a good education so probably was at school at one time or another. Hopefully, someone saw something.

-Won't it be too hard to get? Betty continued.

-My father is already contacting the Greendale police because of the black hood and I just need to ask the archives manager to send us information pretending it's for my father. Madge trusts me, I'm the gay son she never had," Kevin proudly said.

-Oh, my God, Kevin, you're awesome!

-I know but I can't promise you a result; too precise would risk attracting attention and it may be that it is really nothing. For all we know, she could be a bored mythomaniac or a kid who lives without contact with civilization because her parents are in a cult or something, Kevin reminded her. -And you will have to deal with his reaction and or the problems that will follow, Kevin reminded him.

-I will take responsibility for my actions, Betty promised.

-Toni, wait! Jughead shouted.

-What? Asked Toni frustrated but stopped anyway.

-I'm sorry about what just happened, but no one is our enemy!

-Our enemy? Asked intrigues Toni.

-I'm going to become a Southside Serpent, aren't I? And Betty defended the snakes and my father in the newspaper even though it made her threaten, Kevin made....

-Allows Joaquin to flee the city, Toni added.

-Do you know each other? Asked Jughead.

-There are exactly 3 LGBT Serpent of our age in and for all, we stick together.

-Joaquin, you...including Jughead

-I like guys but I like girls even more," smiles Toni. -And Fang is like me, but it stays between us.

-I promise! And for Archie....

-He is an idiot, and someone will end up hurting: turn into a martyr if it is someone from the north and if it is someone from the south, he will probably have run after it, concluded Toni.

-Yes, unfortunately. I intend to fix this. It's horrible what's his father’s but drowning a bunch of idiots in their own testosterone isn't going to help the situation. Neither is Sweet peas' plan.

-He is not the only one to have this point seen," said Toni gloomily. -But you can't do anything until you're an official member. I'll also have to talk to your roommate.

-Why?

Toni had a little amused smile

 When they returned, they found Sabrina alone cleaning up. The cat eats with enthusiasm the little bit of staying behind.

-They left but Betty said you could do the text her, Sabrina quickly answered.

-I'll do it right away," replied Jughead, taking his phone and settling down on the sofa.

-It's all right Toni? continued Sabrina

-Not bad, don't even think of taking advantage of a moment of weakness for your cat to eat me," replied this one. -Besides, you and I must have a chat," she continued, taking Sabrina's wrist and dragging her into the room.

Sabrina stiffened under her fingers but did not try to resist, following her. Toni saw the cat watching her following her with her eyes...Stupid animal!

Toni closed the door and turned to Sabrina who had sat on the bed.

-Why this sudden desire for privacy, Antoinette? Asked the other coldly.

-Don't flatter yourself, Sabrinette," said Toni before taking a deep breath and choosing her words carefully:

-I need you to listen to me: Jughead is going to have to have an initiation to be a gang member. One of the challenges for this involves getting into his home. We won't touch you and nothing serious will happen, okay?

-For this one, said with a kind of amusing dry Sabrina. No problem! - No problem! Just let me know when I should take out my first aid kit.

- I never talked about that! Said Toni forcefully.

-So, none of the events can hurt Jughead? Sabrina asked with a big smile.

-Well... Toni began.

-That's what I thought," said Sabrina clinically. -Don't worry, I'm not judging and it's none of my business.

Toni should be happy to hear him say that, shouldn't she? Or maybe he replies that it is none of his business. But she can't do it. There was something wrong with this girl; something missing or at least had been damaged, leaving that feeling of cold and death that comes out of her. Sabrina's gaze passes over Toni in such a clinical way that she feels naked: an animal judging its prey before speaking:

-I like Jughead, he's a good person. I won't let anything happen to her, I promise, conclude this one with a smile. Then she reattached in force:

-Same, worse or better than for you?

-What?

-Your initiation? Is Jughead going to get the same one as you or is it going to be different? Sabrina continued.

Images of the snake dance reappeared in Toni's head with feelings of anger, shame and disgust. Dancing at the age of 14 in front of adult men, some of whom she considers to be family and others who had looked like a piece of meat, still haunting her today. So far from the stories of pure warriors of his grandfather protecting theirs. Again, one of the elders had told him what it was like before FP took the lead of the Serpent...

-I see...said Sabrina looking sade to the surprise Toni.

-What do you see? Toni asked dryly.

She looked embarrassed before she answered:

-Your expression... I’m sorry. It's not a good memory...

- Like when you come from? Because I don't know if you ran away from home because you wanted to live the life of a young adult novel character or if you're as fucked up as you say you are going to have to give something other than your word. Because believe me, I know what it's like to have no one and not be able to go to the cops...  

Sabrina stiffened up but replied with a smile closer to the grimace:

- I gave you my hometown, didn't I? Doesn't that give me points for good conduct?  And you want to take me out with the not so different after involving that I hide by boredom? Oh Antoinette, you know nothing about my situation and if you were me, you'd wish you were dead! So, you take care of Jughead and I'll be there if you ever need help to put the pieces back together again because if it were really safe, I wouldn't have the face of someone who would take him to the slaughterhouse, Sabrina continued, spitting out his venom.

-You crazy bit...started Tony who wasn't as to why she hadn't hit him yet.

(Because it would mean touching her) and Tony's gut told her that something horrible would happen if she did. The poisoning episode was probably not the worst.

 -Not a you are wrong or it a lie? If you switched to insults, it's because I had a good argument.

Then seeming to find a semblance of calm:

-Everyone survives as best they can, I don't judge, I don't think I even have the right to judge others' choices anymore. I'm just asking you the same thing, okay? I want help to thank you for your help and I will leave at the slightest sign of disturbance on your part," she said, realizing that the violence of her reaction and extending her hand apologizes.

-Swear on what little I have left, Antoinette.

Toni, gave him a cold look and before saying:

-Don't you dare go out the room when we get back tomorrow, before turning his back on her and leaving the room.

[seladorie]

Sel’s Highly Subjective FFXV Fic Rec Master List

Hello! I said I’d do this, and it took a while, but I did! 

The standards for this list are 1) I personally enjoy them, and 2) I’ve gone back to reread them for whatever reason. (Please note the subjective in the title of this list.)

I’ll be updating this list and reblogging it when I do! I only rec fics that I’ve read and feel good about recommending. I don’t always give warnings in the my summary of the fic in the interest of space, so mind the tags when you check something out. There are links to all of the stories, and I tagged which authors whose blogs I know about. 

Happy fic reading!

PROMPTIO:

Incentive by LadyLarkFrand: Cute, domestic, prompt fluff. Good stuff.

Education by Riona: Fluff. Good good fluff of the two of them getting together.

I’m Trying Hard To Take It Back by @someobscurereference​: Soulmate/Soulmark AU where your touch is marked onto your soulmate’s skin forever… and for Prompto and Gladio, it happens when Gladio shoves him on the train.

Fantasy Ride by dirtbag: Prompto and Gladio share a sleeping bag for body heat and yup.

Riding High by LadyLarkFrand. “Gladio never skips leg day. It's something that Prompto admires a lot. Gladio knows he does. Prompto's boyfriend has fantastic thighs and he's a cock-tease, the bastard.”

right into the bliss by greyskiesblack. “Prompto doesn't like himself, no matter how much the others try to convince him that he should.” One of my favorite promptio fics, despite its incomplete status.

Lavender’s Blue (Dilly Dilly) by @someobscurereference​. Cinderella AU, with Prompto as Cinderella and Gladio as… the handsome not!Prince? This is adorable, go read it.

prepare the preparations by scarebeast. “The boys spend the night in the car after a snowstorm. Prompto and Gladio spend the night in a jacket together.” Fluff, trans!Prompto.

Grab the Gladio By the Biceps: Contentious Countess Edition by ohmyfae. “Gladio introduces Prompto to the magnificent world of trashy 10c romance novels. Neither of them are prepared for this.” The sequel is also hilarious.

white lines by spacs. “The more Gladio kissed him, the more nervous he got.”

Show Me by @someobscurereference​. A wrist band is pretty obvious accessory, especially if you keep it on during sex.

PROMNIS:

It Hurts by NoticedKohai: this is trans!Prompto and Ignis, dealing with menstruation. It’s super cute.

Professional Ethics for the Freelance Massage Therapist by edibleflowers: To help him relax, Prompto offers Ignis a massage and… yup. Yup.

Filters by Quail (Salamander): Five times Prompto surprised Ignis with a photo.

a year and a day by @someobscurereference​: Merman!Prompto and Iggy.

the years between by greyblackskies: A long recovery fic for both Prompto and Ignis. Explicit and has dark themes and is so, so good. One of my fav ffxv fics.

Quite the Collection by @asidian​. Promnis + sex toys.

Watch Your Throat, It Needs To Choke by @socialdegenerate​. Won’t make sense without the first one in the series, but I fucking love this story. It’s promnis porn and it’s beautiful. Read the entire series.

Infinity and Beyond by @someobscurereference​. “In a hundred different worlds, Prompto and Ignis come together in a hundred different ways.”

Filters by Quail (Salamander). “Five times Prompto took a photo of Ignis when he wasn't expecting it”

Rule of Thirds by marleymars. “Prompto bumbles through life and maybe falls in love.” The fic that sold me on promnis <3

GLADNOCT:

so good for me by rustandstardust: Gentle sex between Gladio and Noctis, and that’s about it.

Not Even a Handful by chocolatetigerfics: “Noctis doesn’t like it when Gladio calls his dick puny. Because it is.”

Go The Noct To Sleep by Mythril (fantacination): Sleeping arrangements and GladNoct.

The Heat of Lestallum by beforethequeen. Alpha!Gladio and Omega!Noctis, Gladio falls into rut and well. You know where this goes.

GLIGGY:

Afternoon Delight by mahbecks. Gliggy, rimming. Yup. NSFW, obviously.

Once Upon a Dream by mahbecks. Gladio and Iggy do not like each other. But, they both meet a charming stranger at the masquerade ball…

creature of habit by shepherd. Mutual masturbation.

PROMPTIS:

Black is the Colour by withoutdrawbacks: Noct realizes he has a thing for Prompto wearing his clothes.

Scattershot by Riona. “The longer Noctis spends travelling with him, the clearer it becomes that Prompto can get a crush on anyone.”

friends with benefits by @brosura​. “Prompto has always known that Noctis was the prince, but he’s only ever really cared that Noctis was his friend. And he thought it was pretty clear that he didn’t befriend Noctis for the money and gifts. In hindsight, he probably should have just said that much to Noctis. Or, The Adventures of Reluctant Gold Digger Prompto Argentum and his Rich Best Friend.”

Life Imitates by Riona. “Everyone keeps trying to lecture Prompto on dating Noctis. Which would be fine if he and Noctis were actually dating.”

PROMNYX:

Oh. by TheIskraen “Prompto just wants to know if Nyx is okay.” Takes place when you meet Cor in game. As you might suspect, it’s a bit sad.

i just keep running (into you) by JosephineSilver. Only one chapter, but cute.

NOCTNYX:

brighter than the sun by nickofhearts: “Noctis smokes. So does Nyx. (Noctis accidentally joins the Kingsglaive).”

Imperial!Noct AU by ohmyfae. Ardyn kidnaps Noctis when he’s a kid and “raises” him.

POLYSHIP ROADTRIP:

they say through gritted teeth by mushydesserts: 5 +1 of Gladio carrying someone else, and one time they carried him.

For Duty by Allubttoa: A very interesting premise that explores how the royal family of Lucis gives their warriors their magic. Mostly plot and deals with uncomfortable themes (which I enjoy, personally).

Mind Reader by ohmyfae. Noctis temporarily gets the power to read minds, so he uses it for an orgy. Man after my own heart.

Sincerely, Me by @kwehkwehmotherfucker, @ignis-sassentia. Mostly a story told through texting about Promnis and Gladnoct, though slowly evolving into OT4. Funny, cracky, and I have a good time reading it during my lunch breaks at work.

Know the Rules by @asidian. Fingering, fluff, humor, and Prompto suffering orgasm denial? This fic has it all.

So Close Your Eyes and Believe by @socialdegenerate. “Noctis likes sleep, but he also likes sex. If only he could find a way to combine the two...”

PROMPTO/GLADIO/IGNIS:

Synced by Lalaen: Dom!Iggy and Dom!Gladio take care of Prompto.

On-the-Job Training by Cygna_hima: “As part of his Crownsguard training, Prompto has to learn to resist the effect of alphas; Ignis and Gladio volunteer to help him practice. It gets out of hand.”

ARDYN/PROMPTO:

A Real Charmer by ohmyfae: One of the only Ardyn/Prompto’s i’ll rec because I tend to like happier stories, but this one the story of FFXV changes because Prompto can charm daemons. Including a certain Chancellor. And all of the other bros suffer as a result ;)

RAREPAIRS:

Sagefire by @notthelasttime: Nyx/Ignis, and I know, what?? but it’s a cute twoshot about the two of them getting together through a casual hook up.

all things beautiful by yodelpalma, which is Cor/Dino. Dino helps Cor out on a mission, by pretending to be his boyfriend

Build a Wall Between Us by @socialdegenerate . this one is actually Prompto/Cor! An enduring crush and the end of the world :)

wake a little stronger by grains_of_saturn, also Cor/Prompto, also WoR

Don’t Deny What You Meant by @imperfectkreis it’s Cor/Loqi and gods, I read this so early on when I joined the fandom and it’s still good to go reread it

you keep me from breaking apart by greyblackskies. Prom/Dino. “Prompto has the best boyfriend. Dino doesn't even mind that a stupid spiracorn broke the bracelet he gave Prompto.”

carry your heart by yodelpalma. Prom/Dino. “Prompto has the worst friends.”

A Candidate For My Affections by HigharollaKockamamie. Ardyn/Ignis. “It's been a few hundred years since Ardyn picked up any new dating techniques.”

GEN:

Reprisal of an Old Mistake by pariahpirate: This fic is pretty much how I think of Prompto’s background regarding the laboratories of Niflheim. That said, quite dark.

The Improvisational Method by JosephineSilver: And oldie that came before the game’s actual release I think, but features sly Prompto getting the bros out of trouble by pretending to be a traitor.

Poor Wayfaring Stranger by lithos_saeculum: “Out on a mission, Cor Leonis finds a teenager, lost and sick and partway to becoming an MT. Against the advice of all and sundry, he brings him back to Insomnia. There's not a lot of love lost for MTs in the Citadel, but some of its inhabitants may still be young enough to put aside their prejudices.”

Total Contained Time: Sixteen Years by @she5los. Cor asks Prompto to look at some strange MT tech, which has disastrous consequences. Deaged!Prompto. Mostly gen, little bit of gliggy.

Handle With Care by @she5los. “When Prompto gets kidnapped, his friends know they'll need to step up and support him as soon as they get him back.”

Running Behind by @asidian. MT!Prompto escapes from Niflheim and is found by the bros, and we readers experience all the pain.

Worth the Risk by @asidian. Prompto saves Noctis’ life when there’s an attack in Insomnia. Everyone who doubted him is suitably impressed.

Memories of the Past by @asidian. Deaged!Prompto, where he escaped from Niflheim’s labs later in childhood. Hurts so good.

[sparkinsidewrites]

I’ll Be There For You - Chapter One

Title: I’ll Be There For You

Chapter: 1/?

Character/Pairing: Adam Carson/OFC

Genre: Angst

Rating: T

Summary:   There are always lines, always limits, and learning when to cross them, when to risk it all can be the hardest lesson to learn.

Authors Notes/Warnings:  Nothing in this piece ever happened. I claim no ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from this, other than pride and a sense of amusement.

ONE: I’ll be chasing you the rest of my life

Slowly, he drummed his fingers across the white tablecloth, every once in awhile his eyes straining up to the clock hanging on the far wall. The soft murmur of the tables surrounding him filled his ears. He should have known this would happen.

He sighed. She was late again. She was always late. Why he kept expecting that to change, he’d never understand. But still he was here. Still he’d given her the benefit of the doubt again. It was stupid of him, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from agreeing to meet her in the first place. He was a real fucking idiot.

Giving the clock one last glance, he pushed himself from the table. Coming had been a mistake. He had known it would be from the moment he’d gotten her message the day before. Why he refused to listen to his own sense of reason was beyond him as well.

Leaving enough to cover the three cups of coffee he’d consumed while he waited, he pushed open the glass door of the small restaurant and stepped out into the darkened sidewalk. The air outside was slightly chilled, a sure sign that winter was on its way. He paid it little mind, pulling his light jacket tighter around his tall frame as he made his way into farther the night.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring ahead at the sidewalk before him. The streets weren’t crowded in any sense nor were they completely empty. He liked it that way – he wasn’t invisible but he didn’t stand out. Hardly anyone he passed paid him any mind, all too tangled in their own happenings.

A half smile formed on his lips. Yes, the night had been as close to a complete disaster as he cared to come, but he would get over it. She didn’t really matter in the scheme of things. And now he had the rest of the evening to do with as he wished. No painful small talk, no awkward silences or clumsy, desperate sex he’d regret soon after waking the next morning. In a way, he was grateful she’d stood him up.

Though his car still sat in the restaurant’s parking lot, he continued down the sidewalk. He didn’t feel like heading home. Not just yet. He took a deep breath, taking in the sights around him. The city was beautiful at night. The soft glow of the street lamps, the shine from the lights of the signs advertising the various stores. He’d never bothered to notice any of that before; he’d been in too much of a hurry for this or that. Everything had just held a higher precedence than the world revolving around him.

He shook his head, laughing softly at himself as he continued down the sidewalk. What was wrong with him lately? Maybe he had been spending too much time in the studio, like Ron had pestered him about for weeks on end. He sighed, it wasn’t his fault they had been on a roll and he’d been hard pressed to break himself from it. The last record had taken them nearly three and a half years to put out and as happy as they all had been with the finished product, spending another three and a half years in the studio would drive all four of them completely mad.

But tonight had been one of the few nights he allowed himself off. True, it had partially been for the sole purpose of the night he’d planned to spend with her, but it was a night off. And now he had been left with the task of finding someway of filling it.

The longer he walked, the thinner crowd on the streets became. He hadn’t bothered to glance at his watch, but he knew almost instinctively that it was growing late. The small voice in the back of his head urged him to give up the ghost and head home. There wasn’t much else he could do tonight, but the prospect of his empty apartment was something he wasn’t quite ready to face.

He allowed himself to loop once more around the block before he began his slow trek back to his car. It wasn’t the most beautiful of vehicles, older than he cared to think about and clinging to its last legs, but he had grown attached to it over the years. As silly as it sounded, the bag of bolts had become a part of him, much to the chagrin of his closest friends.

He chuckled to himself as he climbed inside, being careful to shut the driver’s side door just so. It was a fickle thing but over the years he’d learned all its tricks. He’d grown used to it. Yes, he could afford a new car, he knew that. And he knew probably should, but letting go of something had never been a strong suit of his.

Absent-mindedly, he flipped on the radio. It wasn’t that he much cared what was playing, it was the fact that he needed some sort of background noise when he drove. He hated silence – why he couldn’t explain, but he needed the noise. It drove his bandmates crazy – it seemed to drive everyone crazy, but it was something they eventually had grown used to. Or at least they’d given up complaining about. It was something everyone eventually accepted as purely him.

The roads were relatively empty for this time of night, but then again long stretches of time on the road meant his sense of time wasn’t exactly on par with the general public. It was nice, really, having the road mostly to himself. For a moment he contemplated simply starting off in one direction and never looking back. He knew he never would, but he did have to admit the idea was alluring.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he pulled onto the main road, being his slow trek back to the small apartment he called his own. It wasn’t much, but it was home and that was enough for him. The restaurant wasn’t a long drive from his place, and in hindsight, he realized she’d picked for that very reason. She never had been much at subtly, and in the past it was one of the many things he’d found attractive about her. That and the fact she was quite inventive between the sheets.

He laughed at this; Ron was always saying he thought with his dick. Maybe there was a fair bit of truth to that one. But that was something he would never admit to Ron. Never. Not when an “I told you so” would follow, and he knew it would.

Ron always had the keen, and often times annoying, ability to say any and everything that needed to be said, especially in regard to Adam’s habits, actions and behaviors. It was something he’d grown used to over the years. It had certainly worked to keep his ego in check and considering how fast paced his life had become, it was something Adam knew he needed.

He’d made it nearly a block from his apartment when he found himself turning the car around. The empty apartment held little appeal at the moment. He quickly glanced at the clock on his dashboard. It was getting late, but he’d shown up at Ron’s far later. And besides, he knew his best friend wouldn’t mind the company.

It was another twenty minutes until he found himself pulling into the dimly lit driveway. He smiled as he noted Ron’s black Honda, still in desperate need of washing. The porch lights had been turned off, but there was still a soft glow emanating from the livingroom window. Putting the car into park, he slowly climbed out and made his way to the door.

He spent the next three minutes knocking on the door before footsteps sounded from within the house. “I’m coming,” he heard the familiar voice call. Warm, soft light poured out onto the porch as the door slowly pulled open, revealing the tall red head whose eyes were still glazed with sleep. “Do you own a watch at all, Carson?”

Adam chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, “You know I live for these moments.”

“Smart ass,” she quipped. “Well since you got me up for no reason, you might as well come in.”

He laughed once more, “And here I thought your mother had taught you manners, Veronica.”

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Watch it, pal. I’m still half asleep, I can plead temporary insanity if I murder you.” In all the years he’d know her, she’d always hated her first name. It might have had something to do with the fact that the only time she seemed to hear it was after they’d gotten into something they shouldn’t have and her mother gave them hell about it. Considering the frequency of their misadventures, he couldn’t quite blame her.

“You can’t kill me, you love me.” He batted his eyelashes for the effect.

“Leave the dramatics to Dave, you just look ridiculous.” She smirked and headed back into the livingroom, leaving Adam to follow her inside. He shut the door behind him before joining her on the couch.

“Chris working tonight?” She nodded, cuddling back until the blanket that had been tossed to the side of the couch. He still found it odd that she was married, even after nearly five years. That probably had something to do with the fact that he’d been on the road for the better part of that time frame. He’d been there for the wedding. Hell, she’d tried to make him her maid of honor before he threatened to shave her head for the ceremony in retaliation. She’d backed down begrudgingly after that. But he’d been there.

“He gets off around three, should be home around four-thirty,” she paused turning to look at him. “She stand you up again?”

That was the one thing he both loved and hated about Ron – she never beat around the bush. He sighed, leaning his head back against the back rest of the couch. “Yeah. And no ‘I told you so’s. I’ve done that quite enough on my own.”

She smiled softly at him, shifting to settle her head against his shoulder. “I am sorry, you know. I mean, yeah she’s certainly not my favorite person and I can’t say I’m not glad she didn’t show, but I am sorry.” Ron sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck you know how to pick them.”

Adam chuckled, as much as he hated to admit it, she had a pretty good point. He’d never had particularly great taste in women; cute, pretty face, nice body, adventurous. He’d been chasing after the same type since his early highschool days. You think he’d have learned by now. “Remind me to call you the next time I need my ego brutally murdered.”

Ron grinned, looking up at him briefly, “That’s what I’m here for. Someone’s gotta kick you in the ass every once in awhile. Besides I’ve been doing it since the fifth grade, be kind of silly to stop now.”

“Yeah yeah.” Ron smiled, closing her eyes as she settled farther into his side. As he always did, Adam wrapped his free arm around her, resting his head against the top of hers.

He’d always loved being able to just sit with Ron. As much as he enjoyed the banter and verbal ass-kicking, he cherished the fact that they could just sit together without having to really say a word. Their relationship was more than just well timed words and knowing just when to say them, and it was great knowing they had that.

“How’s life treating you?” she chimed in several minutes later.

“Not too badly. We’ve been in and out of the studio, things are coming along...”

“Not the band, Adam,” she interrupted, sitting back far enough so that he could fully see the knowing glare she shot him. “How are YOU doing?”

He stopped, softly chuckling as her words began to sink in. Sometimes it was hard to shut off the almost auto-pilot response he’d fallen into giving whenever anyone asked how he was. Most seemed only to care about when the next record would be hitting stores, not what was going on in his or any of their, everyday lives. “Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment.”

Ron simply frowned. “You do that a lot, you know.”

He sighed, “I know. It’s just – habit really, you know that. I’m fine, its nice to have a little down time. And besides, I have you to keep me in my place, so all’s good.”

“Someone has to because Lord knows you can’t seem to handle it on your own.”

“Hey now, I handle things just fine,” he cut in, cracking a small smile. “I just tend to take the more interesting route.”

A sharp cackle fell from her lips. “You could call it that.”

“I will then.”

Ron merely shook her head. “What am I going to do with you, Carson?”

With a bat of his eyes, he shot back, “Love me forever.” She shook her head, reaching over to gently hit his arm. “Hey now, play nice.”

“Since when do I play nice?” she asked with a cock of her eyebrow.

Shaking his head, Adam let a peel of laughter escape his lips. Ron soon followed suit, both leaning against one another, struggling to catch their breath. “Alright, alright, smart ass.” Ron merely grinned, resting her head on his shoulder once again. Silence fell between them once more. “So you’re holding up alright?”

With a soft nod of her head, she paused before answering his question. “Yeah. Work’s work. The kids can be a nightmare, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

For as long as Adam could remember Ron had loved working with children. And, truth be told, it hadn’t really surprised him at all when she’d chosen to become a teacher, though he never fully understood her reasoning. He’d never been great with kids. True, his experience with them had been limited, few of his friends had kids and he doubted working with Ron’s little brother really counted seeing as he spent most of the time trying to get the little boy to stop being his shadow, but he simply didn’t see himself working well with children, his or otherwise.

“So when are you going to have rug-rats of your own?” he joked, resting his arm on her side. He wasn’t completely sure why he’d asked the question. Hell, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. The idea of Ron with kids of her own was...unsettling. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure. Adam knew she’d always wanted kids, knew she would probably be a mother someday. Maybe it was just the idea of knowing that when it happened she wouldn’t be the same old Ron anymore. She’d be someone’s mother.

“Okay, now you’re starting to sound like my mother.” The look she shot him forced a smile to his face. That was his Ron. “And wipe that smirk OFF your face, Carson. That wasn’t a compliment.”

But his smile only grew.

“Fine, smart ass,” she grumbled, glaring at him a few moments more before softly smiling. “Actually a bit sooner than I’d planned.”

“A bit sooner than you planned?” Adam echoed dumbly. Something about that statement seemed off to him. Sooner than she planned, that would have to mean that...His eyes widened slowly as the meaning began to sink in. “You mean...”

Ron nodded softly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. We found out this morning. It’s been kind of...surreal.”

Adam could only nod. Something seemed...off. That much Adam was able to register as he struggled to keep his own thoughts from racing. The smile on her face wasn’t reaching her eyes. It seemed, fake almost. Forced. And that honestly disturbed him. This wasn’t his Ron. She was supposed to be giddy, ecstatic almost. This wasn’t right.

He placed his hand gently on her arm, her eyes flashing up to his. For a moment he could clearly see the uncertainty swimming in them before they clouded once more. In a very real way she was hiding from him and Adam didn’t like that at all. She’d never hidden from him before. The cold churning in his stomach only served to perpetuate his unease.

“Congratulations,” he whispered softly, unsure of how to react himself. This was something completely out of his depth. It was entirely foreign and that fact frightened him. Whether it was the mere fact that Ron was hiding from him or something more, Adam honestly wasn’t certain.

“Thanks.”

The silence that fell over the two of them was tense, and he hated that. Hated the awkwardness. They had never been awkward before. Never. Ron could sense it too, that much he knew instinctively. The way she sat; her knees pulled up to her chest, her hands fidgeting with the frayed edges of the blanket wrapped around her, it spoke volumes for what was going on in her mind.

Several more tense minutes passed before he felt her relax somewhat, leaning herself lightly against him once more. He didn’t protest it, simply opened his arms to her. Ron needed him and Adam had never turned her away before, he couldn’t do that to her now.

[a-travels]

taken: jun 4. 2017 Lalitha Mahal Palace Hotel, Mysore, Karnataka

elevate

I’m not quite sure how to approach this post, mostly because I don’t like talking about this kind of stuff, about myself, or about others in this kind of manner. I don’t like the idea of the kind of image this may generate, or the way people would consider me if I continued with this post.

Much of my apprehension writing posts at all, mostly about myself is the notion of speaking into an empty void. I know at this point, there are a few people that respond to these things and offer insightful thoughts and perspectives, many don’t, and I don’t really begrudge either for how they choose to engage (or not) with this. My worry is in the lack of control I have over my image in other’s minds.

Maybe that’s a stupid thing to say or think. From the instant you see a face of anyone, people immediately are forming opinions, judgements, preconceived ideas about someone by their outfit, their speech, their behaviors, body language, posture, etc., through no fault of their own. It’s human nature. Our ability to quickly read someone is a life skill. Where it becomes problematic is when those notions are informed by notions of hatred and prejudice, which is (I would like to think) generally not the case amongst the vast majority of people in social situations. Most of my life, I’ve moved around from one place to another. I’ve been in different states, different countries, with different mixes of people, with some better than others. I had a particularly negative experience in one of the places I’ve lived and perhaps for better or for worse, it has shaped my own thoughts on how to conduct myself and present myself to other people. I’ve constantly had to meet new people, but that doesn’t necessarily make me any more adept at it or comfortable with it. Mostly, I’ve learned to simultaneously just be open about myself, while also being fairly guarded about other things.

In terms of interests, I am very candid about what I do and don’t like, what I do and don’t enjoy. Now more than even before, I will go off on a rant on why the first 3 seasons of Spongebob till its first movie are the best while anything after is garbage, or the pitfalls of Star Wars: Episode IX (or I’ll just point them to my blogpost at this point lol), or why the Avengers are so important to me. I came to be of the mindset that there’s no point in hiding these interests and masking who I am, because then if someone connects with me based on my personality hiding my interests or pretending to be someone else, then they don’t really like me. Then perhaps hypocritically, I still find it necessary to keep myself quite guarded on other instances. In terms of my emotions, or my “crushes”, or sometimes what I really think, I never got to develop a relationship with others deep or long enough to learn to open up like that, along with the well-known societal norm of not really developing that introspective and social vocabulary amongst young boys and males.

Perhaps now more than ever before, I’ve had perhaps the most stable set of friends ever in my life, stretching from high school to college, and yet I still find trouble in “opening up”, which has been something I’ve tried to learn and am continuing to learn. It was a personal goal of mine for 2020 (if you want to call it a “New Year’s Resolution”) and while in some regards my friends have been receptive and are willing to talk to me about things from time to time, many times it comes across like a quid pro quo of sorts. I’ll explain.

I don’t think it’s entirely fair to complain much about my upbringing and childhood. I have been very fortunate in more ways than I can count and I do not want to take away from that. One area which I look back on with the benefit of hindsight, is to see how I never really learned to share when I was upset with others, often because I don’t know that I always found an ear to listen to me. This particularly affected me in college, where I emotions spiralling and I didn’t know where to turn. As I child, I generally found solace within myself and would rationalize and think my way out of the way I felt. I’d explain away the energy calculus of it, how something may not be worth my effort and then just move on. I won’t elaborate too much on this, not out of an attempt to guard myself, but because it’s not entirely relevant, but the point being I often didn’t feel like i had anyone to listen, and I told myself I didn’t want others to feel that way.

If a friend of mine feels upset, or expresses some kind of need to talk, i will generally drop what I do and avail myself to talk to them. Again, I don’t want to seem like some kind of hero about this and I really dislike having to type this because I don’t think this needs to be publicized. If someone needs help, people should help them, end of story. Granted, I can’t always help how they need me to, but I will always try my best. It’s something I’ve had to learn myself over the course of time and where I’ve certainly fallen on my face more times than I can count. I once told a friend with a panic attack to “just breathe”, and “get some fresh air”, to give you a sense of how ignorant I was, even just a few years ago. But, I have learned to be much better about this, and learned to not try to just solve a problem, but just to listen and empathize with someone. Sometimes people don’t want to hear steps A-D of how to fix things and feel better, sometimes people just want acknowledgement that things just suck; and of course, sometimes they do want that answer. Every situation is different.

This is where I hesitate to write more, simply because I don’t want to come across as some kind of martyr, someone doing this expecting something back, or someone to be pitied. But now and then, after I talk to someone, I’ll usually be greeted with a “what about you, is there anything you want to talk about right now?” Of course, the sentiment is there and I get the desire for someone to want to try and help someone back if they can, but it just rubs me the wrong way and I can’t really explain it. Perhaps it’s because I often don’t have much to talk about then. But when I do want or need to talk, I find myself falling to the same kind of deaf ears I lamented back in college and growing up, and the seeming reception I got seems to have vanished. In a few instances, I’ve messaged someone or another about something, have expressed some of my feelings, and the thought is overlooked or ignored and I’m just left to my own devices.

Again, I don’t expect people to act like me. My compulsion to answer every message and text is perhaps more a disease than something of benefit. People are busy. 22-23 year olds are entering the real world, are starting their careers, and are busy setting up their own futures and lives, and I don’t want to put that on hold for anyone, even for a few minutes just to talk to me. And again, I don’t say this simply as some sort of plea to “hear my cries”, but more just as a frustration I find in having to reach out to talk. My family have their own ways of going about these things and often it doesn’t always help, or I want to talk about them, and definitely don’t want to complain about them to their faces. An unbiased third party, be it a friend or a shrink, is often where I feel most comfortable airing these sorts of grievances with others.

I’m fortunate I haven’t had to deal with the loss of a friend or a loved one, due to some kind of depression or mental struggle, but I know people who have, and I know people who struggle with their own internal challenges, as I do off and on. It comes and goes, but I’ve tried to hone my own hyper-vigilance for any sign, any hint that something is up. I can compartmentalize my conversation with others and my own thoughts, but I’m sometimes left to wonder if that same sort of concern I share for others is felt the same way for me. I wonder if I did something wrong or if I'm even deserving of someone's ear.

Again, I don’t say this as some sort of bat-signal to check in on me. Perhaps I should feel more comfortable reaching out to others in the first place to talk. Perhaps I shouldn’t expect my friends to serve as my therapists, in some sense. I simply raise the point to just as a reminder to be aware of others around you, check in on them. Especially nowadays while we’re all cooped up and left alone to our thoughts, we all need each other more than ever before. Whether you’re lucky enough to be in the presence of others or your interactions are funneled through the magic and power of zeros and ones flying through the air as radio waves or fiber optic cables as photons, elevate and listen to one another. You may never know who really needs it.

tl;dr - How do I feel by the end of the day? Are you sad because you’re on your own? No, I get by with a little help from my friends

(Note: please pardon any stupid grammar or other writing errors. I wrote this in one burst past 4 in the morning, so my half-baked writing skills with general sleep deprivation certainly don’t work to enhance things here)