#first actual attempt at something. i might edit the fuck out of it latter. after sleeping.

[blinday]

Fuck it. Um. I'll post it on AO3 tomorrow.

If I don't remember to add something else.

You Ruined Yourself

Chapter 1.

Polite Stranger Smile #2

Ford didn’t know what he'd expected. He hadn’t spoken with his brother in a long time, hadn’t even seen him aside from his infomercials. Ford didn’t like that his face was plastered in those ridiculous things, but it did bring him comfort to see his brother's smile.

Stan's smile was something only he had, one of the few traits they didn’t share. Ford's smiles had always been a bit tight, a bit nervous, because he was never quite relaxed in his own skin; it's hard to be so when you have such a huge sense of alienation. Stan's smiles were bright enough to light up a room. It could be a wide toothy grin with a playful tint to it, or a small subtle smirk of someone you know is proud of you. Ford had loved Stan's smiles, and used to have a mental list of their differences and meanings.

The one Stan was using at that moment was the Polite Stranger Smile #2, mostly used during festivities when they met relatives they were supposed to know but didn’t quite recall who they were. It was a funny smile all things considered, specially because it was usually followed by his favorite, the I Don't Know What I'm Saying, which Stan always directed at Ford as they greeted the unremembered relatives. But right now Stan wasn’t looking at someone else with the Polite Stranger Smile. It was at Ford.

Ford, who had a crossbow pointed at his twin and could not afford to get lost in memories, even though those thoughts pulled at his heart in a way that made it hard to breathe. He had to focus, focus.

"Were you followed?" He inquired, looking over his brother's shoulder but never leaving the crossbow unaimed. Stan narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, his smile straining. It was now more akin to a grimace.

"No. And I know because that's totally a concern normal people who aren't doing anything wrong have." He said, and Ford couldn’t tell if Stan was being sarcastic or not. He couldn't do it without much concentration in good days, so trying now would be futile at best. He decided to not press the matter further, and tried to pull Stan in to check his eyes.

Only, Stan stayed firmly planted in his place, looking at him with that same grimmace, slightly furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. He was suspicious. Scared? It was hard to read him, now. Ford would not think about this now.

"I'm sorry bro, I am sure you don't have any terrible or vengeful intentions, but I'm not getting in while you have that crossbow in hands." He said breathily, like he was trying to say something serious with a humorous delivery. Ford frowned and slowly put down the crossbow.

Stan followed Ford's pull, and Ford checked his eyes. Stan stared at him, not even pretending he wasn’t weirded out by the situation at this point. Stan sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Good to see you don't think I'm a junkie." He said with what Ford knew to be sarcasm, so he had to stop for a second. Upon further thought, yeah, he could see why Stan would think he'd thought that.

"No, no, I just had to... You could've been..." Ford looked away, trailling off. "It's complicated."

Stan seemed fine. He could handle this task, right? But what if he couldn’t understand? What if it was too much? But if he didn't explain, what if Bill got to him? He had to explain everything. Yes, yes. He could do this. Stan could do this.

"Uh, you gonna explain what's going on, here? You're acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee." Stan said, interrupting Ford's musings. Ford looked at him and took a deep breath.

"Listen, there isn't much time. I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore." From the corner of his eye he saw his research skeleton (for anatomycal comparisons with gnomes) flash a bright yellow eye at him, and quickly turned it away. They weren't safe. What if Stan didn’t understand? What if they really were just strangers sharing a face after all these years? Ford started pacing, muttering to himself.

"Hey, uh, easy there." Stan had both his hands extended like he was trying to calm down a wild animal. Which, fair enough, Ford could concede he might look a little... rough. "Let's talk this through, okay?"

"I have something to show you. Something you won't believe." Ford said, rubbing his hands. Everything felt scratchy, like his consciousness was just barely there. Stan smiled, and this time it was his reassuring one. Ford liked this one. Their childhood was filled with this smile, reflecting how their own mom smiled at them.

"Look, I've been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I'll understand." Stan said. Ford hoped he was right, but knew he couldn’t be.

Ford led his brother towards his secret lab, and only as they stood in the elevator, did he stop to notice Stanley himself. Ford was hungy and exhausted and on the lookout for a demon who threatened to gouge his eyes from its sockets. He couldn't afford to pay attention to these details at every waking moment, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care. He just had a lot in his mind.

Stan had a tidy jacked that looked well worn, but cared for. His hair was wrapped in a ponytail, and he had a bit of beard on his chin. He looked nice. Didn’t have huge bags under his eyes like Ford, and didn’t look too thin. He wasn’t as big as when they were teenagers, but strongly built. Ford was glad. He'd always had a tiny voice at the back of his head worrying if Stanley would be able to make it alone in the big world, specially when they were teens. But by the looks of it he'd been fine.

It almost made him mad. Stanley was here, a fully functional adult with his 5 normal fingers and no demons to haunt him, after costing Ford everything. No, no, not now. He couldn't let himself go that way. He had to finish this. He turned on the lights as they walked into the lab, revealing his beloathed portal.

Stan gaped. Ford expected something like 'there is nothing about this that I understand', maybe a joke about it being a doomsday portal, or just a questioning look. He hadn’t expected Stan to look at him like he fully understood what he'd done, the magnitude of the situation, how much danger they and the whole wolrd could be in, like he got it.

"Ford," Stan said in a raspy, breathy voice lacking any of his usual humour. "What the fuck did you do?"

[cambria-writes]

honestly to god the amount of shame and embarrassment i am feeling right now is unparalleled. i’m raging. i want the ground to split open and swallow me up. i’m a god damn mess lmao.

anyways here’s the actual chapter twelve!! I’m having to edit a bunch of shit because of my fuck up so I’ll probably post chapter fourteen tomorrow.

aaaaa fuck me

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: M, each chapter rated invidually warings: criminal activity, swearing, reader’s probably becoming a mary-sue but who cares, reader is afab but no descriptors used, the calm before the storm, mention of suicide attempt, reader’s kind of manic actually word count: 4,458

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖛𝖊: ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔳𝔢 ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢

“Y’know that’s actually kinda hot,” you cough, parroting what you’d been told when you had pulled out your set of lock picks.

Robin steps in before Eddie can say anything, and there’s a quick back and forth before Steve eventually replaces him in the driver’s seat, once the thing has been successfully hotwired. You let them figure out the rest on their own while you make your way to the back of the RV to sit on the bed.

‘Stuck in the back of a speeding trailer with the awning still attached after your childhood best friend hotwired it just like his male genetic donor used to’ wasn’t exactly how you would’ve imagined the latter half of your spring break to go. Then again, you hadn’t entirely anticipated dimension hopping, either, or having to deal with what might potentially be the end of the world. 

Nancy had briefly caught you up to speed before the lot of you left to hijack someone’s home—and you’re desperately trying not to think about that for too long—and the entire thing left a sour taste in the back of your throat. Not just the world-endy bullshit, but the fact that Vecna slash Henry slash One had access to something you weren’t sure you could do.

Fucking divination. 

You’re digging your nails into the palms of your hands when Steve peels out of Forest Hills at a speed the RV you’re all crammed in would consider breakneck. There’s so much you haven’t tried, actually. And the more you think about it, the more you think that maybe you should’ve taken the asshol up on his offer. Maybe you should’ve let the stupid lich king teach you. 

Beyond the regret, though, as little as it may be, there’s a lot of contemplation. Dustin, Lucas and Eddie are chatting away, concocting some harebrained scheme probably, and with Robin and Nancy up front with Steve, you’ve got some peace of mind to think. Because thankfully, unlike her brother, apparently, Erica Sinclair is capable of recognizing when someone shouldn’t be bothered.

The idea of a phylactery had occurred to you, originally, when Eddie first brought up the concept of a lich. That even if you tried to kill him, it would just be a matter of time before he came back. What would the phylactery be, though? What could he have attached himself to so wholly and completely that he’d be willing to risk using it as a respawn point? 

When you look up from where you’re sat cross-legged on the bed in the back, you open your mouth to call for Nancy. You barely mutter the first consonant of her name when you notice that she and Steve seem to be… discussing, pretty intently. 

“H-hey, Robin?” 

“Huh? Yeah?” Robin answers quickly, turning around and shuffling her way to you, quickly whispering apologies to the kids for getting between them. “What’s up?” She asks, letting herself fall heavily next to you. 

“You went to Victor Creel’s house with the others, yeah?” 

“Creepy abandoned mansion, yeah,” she confirms, nervously drumming her fingers against her thighs. “What about it?” 

“Was there anything like…weird about that place? Anything that stood out?”

Robin frowns and hums for a second, turning to look down at her feet. “Something that stood out, huh…” There’s another moment of pause before she slaps her thigh and points at you. “We found the clock! The one you keep hearing, it was right there in the main hallway.” 

“Okay yeah, that does stand out.” But not exactly the kind of thing someone would bind their soul to, you figure. Way too obvious and easily spotted. “Anything else? Something maybe hidden? Like, a lot better?” 

Robin chuckles but nods, letting her head fall back and crossing her arms as she thinks. 

“We kind of split up, so it’s hard to tell but I heard Steve screaming like a girl. Something about spiders?” 

“It was a god damn black widow!” Steve shouts from the front seat, and you can’t help but stifle your laughter. 

“A black widow, alright. Where was it, do you know?” 

“Yeah, it was on the second floor. In the bathroom, I think? It was like, hidden under a vent in the floor ro something.” You frown and open your mouth to ask another question, but Robin excitedly flaps her hands. “Oh, oh! And there was this freaky shrine in the attic with a bunch of jars with spiders in them too!” 

“Oh wooow,” you say, putting as much nasally sarcasm into it as you can. “Love that. Spiders. Awesome. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so, place was pretty run down. I mean no one’s lived there since the Creels were murdered and I don’t think ‘home to a demonic serial killer who pops your eyes from the inside out’ sells too well.”

“Yeah, probably not,” you mutter, bringing your thumb up to chew at the nail. 

Something related to spiders would be way too obvious as a phylactery, right? Anyone with any kind of knowledge about Henry would be able to guess something like that. And though the grandfather clock does feel like a decently significant item, too, that’s beyond obvious. No way that someone like Vecna would use that as a phylactery, either. It’s too flammable, anyways. 

You squeak in surprise when Eddy drops himself on the bed on your other side. Robin quickly excuses herself to move back up front with Steve. You’re about to pull her back and tell her to give him room, but when you glance ahead it seems like whatever discussion he was having with Nancy is over. 

“What was all that about spiders?” Eddie asks, letting himself fall back on the bed with his hands behind his head. “I thought you hated spiders.”

“Ugh, god do I ever,” you groan, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as well. “I’m just trying to figure out like. If I was a lich that ended up in a parallel dimension, right? What would I choose as the one thing to bind my soul to and make sure I can respawn?”

“You’d probably have better luck asking Wheeler,” he replies, end of his sentence fading into a yawn. “She’s the one he gave his weird psychic visions to.” 

“And you’re assuming he has a phylactery to begin with.” Dustin has his has steepled in front of him on the small table, leaning out just a bit to be able to look at you. You left yourself up on your elbows to look back at him and frown. 

“There’s no way he’d be able to survive in that place for as many years as he has without dying,” you state, closing your eyes for a second to try and recall the small fragments of conversation you were able to catch when you were In Between with Eleven. “He took control of that thing, right? The thing you call the mind flayer? What if that’s what turned him into whatever the hell he is now?” 

“That doesn’t really matter,” Lucas pipes up, turning around in his seat and throwing his arm up against the back of the bench-like seat to look at you. “If we cut him off from the mind flayer, he won’t be able to do anything, right?”

“Yeah, and then all hell breaks loose, genius,” Erica scoffs, and you can tell without looking at her that her eyes are rolling. “If Vecna’s the only one keeping the monsters in check, we’re screwed if they all decide to do whatever they want.” 

You groan and let yourself fall back onto the bed Eddie pulls a hand from behind his heat to pat yours. 

“We’ll figure something out,” he says quietly, while the others continue discussing what to do about both Henry and the Mind Flayer. “You should probably take a nap while you can.” 

“I just got up from a nap like two hours ago!” you whine, kicking your feet. “I feel like all I’ve been doing is sleeping. I need to think while I’m awake. Shit gets weird when I’m asleep.”

There’s a beat of silence before Eddie turns his head to look at you with a brow raised.

“How weird are we talkin’ about?”

You groan again. “Being sucked into a weird not-dimension by someone else levels of weird.” When you turn your head to look at Eddie, you almost flinch at how close your faces are. You keep your eyes on his nose; nice, safe, doesn’t give any kind of weird impression. Right? Right. 

“That’s how you talked to their friend? Eleven?” he asks, quietly, and the breathiness of his voice makes you swallow thickly. You nod twice and clear your throat, turning your head back to look up at the ceiling of the RV.

“Y-yeah. Um, yeah she, uh, she said it was In Between. Whatever that means.” 

“Sounds more like dreamwalking to me.”

“You’re not wrong. Would be nice to know who was doing the walking though. Me or her?” 

Eddie shrugs, and somehow, without your realizing, he’s wormed an arm under your head and pulls you in. He’s extremely nonchalant about it, which you wish you could be. You try to lift yourself up on your elbows again, but he makes sure you can move, and in fact holds your head fast against his shoulder. 

“Sleep,” he said, an edge in his voice even though it’s nearly a whisper. “We’re going out of down to buy guns and traps. You need your rest.” 

With the rumbling of the RV, the constant bump and jostle of it, and the presence of someone warm next to you, you find that your eyes are starting to feel a bit dry and heavy. 

“Fuck you,” you grumble, but close your eyes and clasp your hands over your stomach anyways. 

“Sucks to sucks,” Eddie chuckles, and the last thing you register before falling into a light slumber is the feeling of fingers raking through your hair. 

You wake up to the sound of the RV door slamming open and Eddie jumping out of his skin next to you. Nothing much happened—Erica making a quip to her brother, Steve shouting, everyone on edge and holding on to the nearest stationary object while Steve puts the RV in drive and bolts out of… 

“Wha—where are we? What hap-happened?” you mutter, sitting up on the bed, noticing that you’d been scooted up to lie down on it proper rather than just half-laid at the foot of it. “Did you move me while I was asleep?”

“We saw Hawkins’ star basketball team,” Robin says quickly, moving past you on the bed and kneeling by the window to peek out. “They didn’t seem super stoked to see us and honestly seeing a bunch of white boy jocks out for blood in a military surplus store doesn’t give me good vibes.” 

“Military surplus?” You ask, sleep still fogging your brain as you rub at your eyes. “That’s where we are—were?” 

“Yeah, Dustin and I stayed in here while they shopped around,” Eddie explains shortly, and there’s a tightness in his voice you don’t like. He’s sat with his back against the wall, Robin fit snugly between the two of you before she climbs back off the bed. “Did you grab anything good?”

“Oh,” Robin starts, turning around to face you two with a grin that feels just a little bit unhinged. “We grabbed something good. Nancy found a shotgun and, get this.” She leans in, and if you weren’t in a literal ride-or-die situation with this girl, you’d be a little worried about the teeth showing in her grin. “She’s gonna saw the thing off herself. Nancy Wheeler, illegally modifying a firearm. Amazing.”

“Amazing,” you mutter back, scooting yourself up on the bed to put your back against the wall, and leaning over to let your head fall on Eddie’s shoulder. “You were right. I needed a nap. I think I need a few more naps, actually.” 

“You can probably keep napping until we get there,” he says quietly. And again, there’s a warm arm around your shoulders that keeps you fixed to his side. You don’t even notice when your eyes drift shut again. 

“Where… when we get where?” 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just sleep.” 

Sweetheart? That’s a new one. You wish you could analyze the speed of your thrumming heart and the wings of the butterflies in your stomach, but again, you’re unconscious before you can make too much of it.

You’re sitting on the steps to the RV while Robin and Steve prepare, of all things, molotov cocktails. Dustin and Eddie are off in the field to your left hammering nails into trashcan lids, and though you’re exceptionally doubtful of their efficiency—”Aren’t the nails just gonna pop right out the second something hits them? What’s gonna keep them from just popping out?”—they seem pretty content doing that. Max is holding onto the previously mentioned shotgun while Nancy is, indeed, sawing off the barrel as short as is probably safe to do.

You’re not doing anything at all. Rest, they said, you burnt yourself out for hours teleporting both yourself and Nancy out of the Upside Down, they insisted. Not that there’s much for you to do. Even looking off to your right at the Sinclairs, and to what even you can tell is a shit wrapping job from Lucas, you wonder what you place is here, right now. 

You take a particularly long drag from the one cigarette you were able to convince Robin to let you have. You’d agreed, if only verbally, not to get involved with any of the fighting. And that had been after you’d tried to argue with both Eddie and Dustin that acting as a decoy was a stupid idea. Stupid, dangerous, reckless, pick a descriptor. 

Roughhousing catches your eye, and you hear Dustin shriek about wedgies. You take another drag and hop off the steps. 

“Where’re you going?” Steve pipes up, making Robin turn around almost owlishly to be able to see you. 

“Something on my mind,” you say vaguely, waving Eddie down when he eventually looks at you. “DnD nerd shit I gotta run by him.”

“Ugh, have fun,” Steve says with a shudder, turning his focus back on the bottles in front of him and waving at Robin to pay attention. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Ed,” you say, once you’ve got him to follow you to the other side of the trailer. You keep walking a bit, though it’s more of a nervous pacing. “There’s no way this is going to be an ambush.” 

“You’re thinking about it too much man,” Eddie replies easily, hands in his pockets and slightly out of breath. “It’ll be fine.There’s no way he’ll see us coming.” 

“That’s the thing,” you say, a bit too loudly, rounding on him. You look around quickly before walking up to him and leaning over, clearing your throat and quieting your voice. “Did they tell you what happened with the mind flayer before? Two year ago?” 

Eddie frowns and shakes his head. “They mentioned something about one of their friends being like, possessed or something, but they didn’t really… explain anything.”

“Right, Will was possessed,” you reiterate, grabbing at Eddie’s upper arm. “By the mind flayer. Whatever Will could see and whatever Will knew, the mind flayer knew, too. That’s how—” You cut yourself off before you can mention Billy. Not my story to tell, you think bitterly. “That’s how all of them almost got caught. Will was leading the demodogs right to them. If El hadn’t come back in time they would’ve been screwed.” 

Eddie doesn’t speak, looks off in the distance. Slowly, he reached up to grab the hand at his upper arm to pry it off, but doesn’t let it go. 

“What are you trying to say?” 

“Max is cursed, Ed,” you whisper, balling your hand into a fist in his. “She’s cursed, and just last night he took a joy ride in Nancy’s head. I’m pretty sure he’s well out of mine, but can we really be sure that there isn’t some kind of—a fragment of him, in either of them?” 

You can see Eddie twisting his tongue in his mouth, clenching his jaw. It’s a possibility that makes for a very grim reality; one where nothing you do matters because there isn’t a way for you to keep anything secret. There’s no way anyone is going to want to exclude Nancy from what’s going on. Nancy wouldn’t want to be excluded, if the ferocious expression she had earlier was anything to go by. 

And Max…

When Eddie turns back to look at you, there’s something a little wild in his eyes. Different from last time. He looks… not feral, like this, with his hair all out of sorts and his knuckles bloodied and bruised. No, he just looks dangerous. You bite the inside of your cheek when you realize that maybe this is what everyone in Hawkins was seeing all along. Ridiculous to be scared of this Eddie; everything about him right now is about protecting people. 

Not an ounce of malice. 

“You got a backup plan then?” 

You take a deep breath and shake your head. “I haven’t been able to come up with something that makes sense, yet, no.” 

Eddie lets out a breath that’s almost a sigh and finally lets go of your hand. He lets himself fall down onto the grass to sit, cross legged, and gestures at the ground next to him for you to follow. You sit directly in front of him, hands on your knees, drumming your fingers on them. 

“What do we have so far?” Eddie asks. 

“We’re working under the assumption that Henry’s a lich,” you start, looking down at your hands to count on your fingers. “We know he’s a psychic kid, like Eleven. Nancy mentioned that he said something about keeping everyone he kills up in his head. Is power absorption even a thing?” 

“In ADnD? Sure,” Eddie answers, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the clouds. “There’s ways to take someone else’s abilities, so I guess it’s not impossible for him to have yanked the other kids’ abilities from them.”

You stay quiet for a moment. Max had also mentioned that Henry’s, his… whatever weird mind palace he has going on had the bodies of the three teens he’d killed all strung up. You can’t help but wonder if maybe the other people he’s killed are somewhere in that psychic sanctuary, too. You shake the thought out of your head and continue. 

“Right, okay. So he’s yanked abilities from kids before. He’s psychic, and somehow being shoved into the Upside Down turned him into a lich.”

“Or being in there long enough turned him into one.”

“Shit,” you mutter, bringing a hand to your mouth and frowning. “No, you’re right. Steve was choking on something when we got to your trailer in the Upside Down and I remember dreaming about them being in the tunnels. And Will…” You growl and wave your hand in front of you. “Doesn’t matter, point is that he’s acting like a lich so we should probably treat him like one. I’m still worried about the phylactery.” 

“When you were with Nancy, in there,” Eddie starts slowly, and he has the impression of someone who’s trying to describe a picture while he’s still putting the puzzle together. “When Vecna got in her head, you like, froze when you touched her. Did you, y’know?” He motions vaguely at his eyes and you snap your fingers at him. 

“Yeah, yeah! I did! I saw some of that!” you exclaim, slapping your knee excitedly. “Okay, okay wait. So I saw the house, and saw the spiders. Fucking hate the spiders,” you mutter under your breath, screwing your eyes shut and trying to recall more. “There’s… this weird shrine in the attic, for the spiders. There’s something—I know there’s something else there besides the jars but I can’t—it’s too, I don’t know. It was too out of focus, I can’t remember what it was.” 

You let the end of your sentence trail off and start tracing patterns in the grass. “If he has a phylactery, and I’m pretty sure he does because everything else is Dungeons and Dragons related, I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with that shrine.” 

Eddie nods and frowns. “He goes up there when he hunts people, right? It would make sense if he kept it close to him there.”

“But here,” you say, putting your hand out in front of you and pointing at the back of your hand. “Or there?” You flip your hand over and point at the palm. 

Eddie looks enthralled until something seems to click in his brain. He leans back from where he had, at some point, gotten very invested in the conversation and leaned into you. You lean back, in turn, frowning at him. He shakes a pointed finger at you at squints. 

“You’re going somewhere with this and I don’t like it.”

“Yeah well I don’t like the idea of you attracting a swarm of bats with fucking Metallica but here we are, aren’t we.” You slap his hand away and lean back in. “Look, if you can find a way to get me that disgusting ‘double the caffeine’ soda, like as many as you can.” 

“I’m pretty sure dying of a caffeine-induced heart attack is the opposite of helpful, y’know.” 

You can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes you. “No! God, no, look. Doing the plane shifting shit is draining, right?” He nods. “Right. So I just figure—”

“No, nuh uh, that’s a shit idea,” Eddie cuts you off, crossing his arms. “There’s a reason you pass out when you do it too much. Your body can’t handle it.” 

“When I’m starved, sleep deprived and freaked out of my mind, sure!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up. You clear your throat before lowering your voice again. “Look, it’s a—not a theory, fuck, uh. It’s a hypothesis, okay? We don’t have time to test it, I just have to trust that it’s gonna work.” 

“And what exactly is your backup plan?” 

“While you’re distracting the bats with Dustin and not getting yourselves killed,” you start, placing your hands back on your knees. “And while the other bozos are busy trying to blast Vecna back to whatever hellscape he crawled out of, I go looking for the spider shrine here and torch it.” You pause, and hold your hand up when Eddie opens his mouth to speak. “And if it’s not here, I’ll just plane shift and get it in the Upside Down.” 

“M’hm, cool, there’s a problem with that though,” Eddie says, and flaps his hands at you to quiet down before he continues. “No, shush. Vecna’s gonna be in that attic when you go there. And then there’s Max.”

‘Let’s use me as bait’ Max. ‘It won’t matter if it goes wrong if it’s me’ Max. You swear under your breath and bite down on your lip. Vecna being in the same room you don’t really care about; provided that Sanctuary actually worked, there’s not much he can do to you. 

Once he’s in Max’s head though, you can’t control that.

“Not on my own,” you whisper, and when Eddie asks you to repeat yourself, you feel your face splitting with a grin. “I can’t do it on my own, I mean—look, no one’s gonna be able to convince Max not to be the bait. She’s cursed, that’s how it is, and we don’t know whether or not Vecna’s looking through her head. But once he’s in there,” you pause, standing up and starting to pace. “Once he’s hunting her, she said something about hiding in her own head, right? Like, in a happy memory or something. I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t think that’s going to work.” 

“And you have the face of someone who somehow managed to come up with an even worse idea,” Eddie says, slowly pushing himself to stand up on his feet. 

“Right, okay, first of all, fuck you,” you spit, crossing your arms as you pace. “Okay, so scrap the idea of looking for the phylactery. For now. Eleven knows what’s going on, and I already ended up in that weird In Between place with her, right? So once Vecna starts hunting her I can just—”

Both you and your thoughts are interrupted when Eddie stalks over and grabs you by the shoulders. 

“Hey, stop for a second,” he says, quietly, to a point where it’s got you a bit concerned. “Look, I get—I don’t understand what it’s been like for you for the past three years, okay? But you have to stop for a second.” One hand goes to grab one of your wrists to pull your hand up into view. You frown at Eddie and look at your hand when he nods at it. 

You’re shaking like a leaf. 

“You’re trying to throw yourself at way too many problems.”

“I can’t do nothing—”

“And I’m not telling you to do nothing,” Eddie says, letting your hand fall in favour of cupping your jaw with both hands. “I’m telling you to use that giant brain of yours wisely. You don’t need to go looking for soulbound artifacts or fighting psychic wars,” he continues, a thumb coming up to rub at your cheek.

“What else am I supposed to do, Ed?” You whisper, bringing your hands up to grab at his forearms. His hands don’t move. “I-I’ve been having these nightmares for years, and all of a sudden I can—I can do all these things, and I just, I have to do something.” 

“And you can,” Eddie reassures you, and when he rests his forehead against yours, you can just barely feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. “Just, just stick with m—us, just stick with us.”

“And what, bail you out?” you huff, and Eddie snorts. 

“Yeah, yeah just be our getaway driver. Best one out there. You ever heard of a getaway driver that can dimension hop?”

You laugh quietly and shake your head. You don’t risk opening your eyes yet. 

“Yeah, no, not so much.” You breathe, clear your throat and lean your head back away from Eddie, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll stay with you and Dustin. Second anything goes south I’m getting us all out of there.” 

“Sounds good to me.” You get a finger pat on the cheek before you put a finger up. 

“I’m still gonna need that gross soda if I’m gonna survive shifting like, three people though.”

@storiesbyrhi @anothermunsonsimp @doratheignora @alovesongshewrote @averagestudent03

[delusion-of-negation]

top 10 (ish) ridiculous or annoying FAQs:

(click at your own discretion)

1) "kids today rely on others to do everything"

ah yes, damn those participation trophies! if it wasn't for them my hands wouldn't be fucked, and I wouldn't need people to write for me. but seriously, stop reading boomer comics, and go outside to meet some actual young people.

2) "sus that a non-american says mom"

yeah, because it's clearly the superior version, and I'm not too patriotic to concede a defeat.

3) "sweaty, the victims of abuse by catholics are real people, stop appropriating their pain just because you want to hate catholics; plus teachers abuse people just as often anyway"

so firstly, I don't hate anybody. and secondly, regarding the fact that victims really do exist, [insert "of course I know him, he's me" meme here]; although I don't often talk much about the abuse I went through or what my religious beliefs are. but, more importantly, statements like "survivors are people" can be phrased like "some people are survivors", and when you're unable to act according to the latter (like when you don't even consider that somebody might be one) then you display a failure to recognise the former - you're projecting; a survivor can't be appropriating their own pain, but you can be appropriating it to silence one. and thirdly, teachers do abuse - the problem isn't and has never been purely religion, rather that abuse is often done by somebody in a position of trust, power, and familiarity; and that the lack of a global minimum enables totally legal abuse on top of the illegal stuff. people with access and respect have more opportunity to abuse than those without, and that goes for teachers too. but, once again, you can be appropriating the pain of survivors to deflect and silence people. please remember this before you say that shit.

4) "get help/therapy"

way ahead of you - years ahead of you. but it's not magic - people who say this often act as if you'll start behaving differently overnight. not only are some things simply beyond the ability of talking therapy to completely rectify, it also takes time and has to be selective. you've got to pick your priorities, and that's definitely not whatever ship or joke you're mad at me about today. therapy is a slow, arduous process that can't guarantee results - it isn't "anti-recovery" to recognise that, it's honesty. while I've been in therapy for a long time, it is not necessarily going to change whatever you don't like about me - whether that's because it can't, because my focus now is on more important or urgent things, or because I don't want to change that.

5a) "tell your family you ship incest, see how that goes; normal people find it disgusting"

actually, some know, and they're fine with it. in fact, one prefers sibling pairings in fiction to all other dynamics because, to paraphrase, "it's a deeper level of messed up co-dependence". so unfortunately for you, my remaining family (by which I mean those not dead or cut out of my life after abuse and so forth) actually are able to distinguish between fiction and reality. plus, my reasoning for caring if they find it gross or not pertains only to recommending books and such - their opinions do not dictate my tastes.

5b) "don't sexualise/appropriate incestuous abuse" and "I bet you enjoyed being raped" and other attempts to upset me over 5a

firstly, as I've already said here, survivors can't be appropriating ourselves. in addition, you're not owed people's history or trauma - it's not okay to require people's personal information, or else you'll send anon hate and accusations of appropriation. secondly, I'm not sexualising our abuse (not just because I write horror, and so a lot of my writing is intended to be creepy, not sexy); these stories aren't about us, they're not us at all. entire dynamics/people (fictional or otherwise) aren't all going to be applicable to us or identical to us, just because they have something in common with us; they're not us and they're not accountable to us. thirdly, the fact that people send this stuff (attempting to trigger people's trauma over ships) is so much more worrying to me than somebody making our communal imaginary friends kiss. you're trying to hurt people. and finally, to the "I bet you enjoyed it" crowd (if you're at all serious): do you think you'd enjoy being in a real zombie apocalypse, alone, afraid, and really at risk of being eaten alive? a fictional scenario does not feel remotely the same as a real one. this isn't rocket science - things that look like you aren't you; fiction isn't reality; don't send anon hate. (edit: comparable "just leave me alone, I'm not hurting anyone" sentiments for yandere stuff, and anything else you decide I'm naughty for.)

6) "you'll be sent off to do manual labour once your communist revolution happens"

while I don't know why people think that I'm a communist, a dictatorial regime probably isn't going to want me to do manual labour. they're more likely to just shoot me; I'm useless and a liability. call me crazy, but something tells me that "ah yes, we shall give ze deranged cripple ze power tools" isn't the communist position.

7a) "they/them can't be singular pronouns"

yes they can, and they're used as such in both shakespeare and the bible. but you don't have to say this - I'm also okay with he/him, so you could've just used those and chilled out. also, do I look like somebody who views the rules of grammar as fully immutable and imperative?

7b) "enbies/aros/pan/etc aren't valid"

do you really think that you're going to change any hearts or minds by putting that in my ask box or under my funny maymays? chill out, it's not worth the effort - you could be planning a party (in minecraft) and having fun instead. it isn't worth my time to rant at everybody who's saying something isn't valid, updating how I'm explaining it as my opinions grow and general discourse around it evolves; I'm just who I am, somebody else is who they are - why bicker in presumptuous ways about if that's enough? it ultimately is valid, in my opinion, but that isn't an invitation to keep demanding that I debate. (edit: old posts of mine probably don't phrase things incredibly, on this or anything... I tried.)

8) "what are your politics?"

my politics are informed first and foremost by the knowledge that I'm not cut out to be some kind of leader - I don't want to be the guy who tells everyone else what to do, I just offer what seem to me like valid criticisms of how we are doing things now, and general pointers on the values and ethics that I would prefer to move towards. things like individual freedom, taking the most pacifist route where possible, trying not to give excessive power to small groups of people (governments or corporations), helping those in need even when they're not palatable, and letting me suck loads of dicks. but please refrain from decreeing me something - there's not enough information in what I said, so you'll just be filling in the blanks with assumptions. (edit: workplace democracy seems cool to me; benefits are good; fair fines and taxes; and the "sperm makes you loopy" saga: 1, 2, 3, and 4.)

9) "you're a narcissist"

no, I don't meet the diagnostic criteria. joking on the internet that you're hot doesn't make a person a narcissist. the fact that I've chosen to keep my actual self-esteem issues to myself is not proof that they don't exist - you're just not entitled to that information about me. but it's also not narcissism to really like how you look. (edit: don't throw labels around carelessly too.)

10a) "kin list?"

the fabric of the universe, a zombie, dionysus, maned wolf/arctic fox hybrid, a comedian, big gay, big rock, ambiguously partial insincerity. (edit: kin list may or may not be incomplete.)

10b) "kin isn't valid/that's just being insane"

haven't we established that I'm deranged, and that sending stuff like this on anon is simply a waste of your precious time? besides, I do not care if it's invalid or insane - it's fun, I'm happy. (edit: see 7b for my opinion on sending me yet another ask with "that's invalid" in it; I'm not in the mood to discuss the nature of validity.)

bonus: "it gets better" and "trigger list?"

as I've said before, things just don't always get better for everyone - sometimes things can't be cured or even treated, sometimes they kill you; in some cases it could get better if not for a blockade or lack of time. the world is messy. it needs to be more normalised to reassure or comfort people without relying on saying that their issue will get better or be cured. it does suck to be this ill, but it also sucks to be made out to be a lazy pessimist, just because I have the audacity to not play along. and as for the trigger list, I don't like providing people with an easily accessed list of ways to hurt my feelings or harm me - upsetting me is supposed to be challenging, and thus rewarding. if you want a cheat sheet then you're out of luck, I'm afraid.

bonus #2: "FAQ stands for frequently asked questions, it doesn't need that s at the end!"

yeah, I know, I just enjoy chaos and disarray.

bonus #3 (edit): "what are your disabilities and how exactly are they incurable and/or deadly?"

again, I don't tell the internet everything about me, especially when it poses a risk, especially not as an easily accessible list for you to refer back to whenever you feel inclined to hurt my feelings. that is understandably a sore subject. (edit: that includes physical health issues btw.)

bonus #4 (edit): "so we shouldn't be critical?"

if it wasn't clear from my answer about politics or my post in general, you can have opinions about things, and you can voice that. it's just not realistic to exist at extremes: to think that you alone should dictate what exists in fiction, or to think that people shouldn't be expressing disdain or criticism of any calibur. say how you feel about things, that's fine, but it's also fine if people find that they don't value your input. plus we're all flawed, we can all be hypocritical from time to time, we all get bitchy, and we all make mistakes, or even knowingly fuck things up. that's important to keep in mind, whether we're talking about the one being criticised or the one doing the criticising - poor choices of words, imperfect tone, or contradictory ideas are inevitably going to happen occasionally.

congrats on reaching the end! if you have, at any point, said one of these to me, you owe a hug to your nearest loved one (once it's safe).

edit: might add more links/bonus points in the future when I think of things, but it's late now. (sorry for links where prior notes in the thread have my old url, that may get a tad confusing; also, not all links are my blog or my op, since it is to illustrate points/vibes, not to self-promo.)

[gallavictorious]

11x01 Reaction Post

Random thoughts on and reactions to 11x01; no careful analysis or anything, just the bits and pieces that's not likely to make it into meta proper but which I still want to make note of so I can go back later and remember what my initial reaction to the episode was (since my impressions are likely to change as the season unfolds). Mostly Gallavich related, because duh, but there's disordered rambling on a bit of everything. Under a cut (God I miss LJ sometimes) because this got long.

Ian looks damned good as the homocidal muscle. I don't do AU:s, but if I did... On the other hand, Frank as a member of the Chicago “Eight” looks like a werewolf. Less interested in that AU. And listen, I get that they couldn't get Emmy Rossum for this, but I really miss Fiona showing up in a few random olden day pictures. She's gone, but she's still a Gallagher dammit! Carl at the slaughter house looked weird – and part of me thought that was appropriate because slightly off editing would be a sweet way of communicating that it's all bollocks, but the rest of shots looked okay (Debbie as a milk maid and Frank as the aforementioned werewolf) or good (everything else) so no.

The sound of a baby crying is a horror matched only by persistent lack of sleep so I feel for Lip and Tami so much. Here's to all parents who managed to get through the first year without murdering anybody! I think that maybe you don't get enough credit... I, for instance, want to kill someone just hearing Freddie cry in the background for half a minute. Not sure it bodes too well for their relationship for them to be so ready to spend every night apart like Lip suggests, but a, what wouldn't you do for a good night's sleep, and b, love the thought of Lip spending more time at the old house. Could see them breaking up during the course of the season, though. Not sure how I feel about that – Tami's my favourite out of Lip's love interests, but having too many of the couples staying together all through the finale wouldn't feel quite right (for Shameless) and I don't see them breaking up Ian and Mickey or Kev and V. Don't really expect Sandy or Debbie to last either, but since it's more of a casual thing it might have more of a casual end.

Do you remember when the promo dropped and there was Concern about That Look on Ian's face after he kisses Mickey, and I tag theorized about it being because Mickey stole his coffee? Turns out there wasn't really A Look in the actual episode, but I sure as hell was right about the coffee, and I want noted somewhere. Maybe there should also be a small diploma? A golden statue seems a little over the top, but I mean, if you insist...

I appreciate that Ian is very adament about it being their money but when Mickey thinks it's their breakfast it's suddenly every man for himself. Do you share or not, Ian? Hmm? (Let the record show that I'm joking, please. Ian is damned right to take his toast back, and I say this as a “person most likely to steal their partner's toast right out of their hand”. I also love that Mickey completely gives up on breakfast when he can't have Ian's toast and just grabs a beer instead.) The kitchen scene is glorious and I just really like their dynamic here; the casual kiss, “I only make breakfast for husbands who have jobs”, how relaxed it is even when Ian's a bit annoyed, Mickey being so... Mickey. I do wonder what went through his head when Ian started talking about their wedding present money, though – he seems worried for a moment, but then shrugs it off, and that could be either bravado or just actual lack of concern. I tend mostly towards the latter, since Mickey quite genuinely figures this isn't a big deal (even though he still recognizes that Ian will probably think it one). Please note that he immediately offers to get money when Ian mentions that they need more of it coming in. Not his fault Ian vetoes his methods, right? (Also love that Ian's objection is due to him not wanting to be separated from Mickey, rather than any moral qualms about robbing stores.)

Okay, the gag ball. Would they really keep it like that if they were actually using it? Maybe either of them just tossed it there after taking it off, I suppose... Yeah, I don't know. Not what I'd imagined them being into, but that might be my own extreme lack of enthusiasm for gag balls and harnesses talking. Either they're into it and if so, you do you, boys, or it was a gift and they're keeping it around and semi-prominently on display for shits and giggles. (But if it was a gift, they did try it at least once, right?)

Mickey in the bath remains stupidly and surprisingly gorgerous. Incidentally, I really don't think his question about the meds is any indication of him not thinking them important, but there's little wonder that Ian bristles at the mention of them. Maybe not be an ass just to prove a point, eh, Mick?

I've already talked about how hard Ian is trying here but let's just take another moment to congratulate our boy on his persistent attempts at mature communication. Though he might have given some actual consideration to Mickey not wanting to save the money if he's really serious about them making decisions together... But he gets there! I think this whole situation – which would royally piss most people, including me, off – is actually particularly difficult for Ian, because he might well see Mickey's behavior as uncomfortably reminiscent of Frank and Monica's destructive habits and yeah, that would fuck him up. And still! He forces himself to calm down! He takes Mickey's hand! He refuses to let himself be distracted by Mickey looking SO INSANELY PRETTY I CANNOT EVEN UNDERSTAND IT! Ian, I salute you!

[starwars_eu_nerd_mode]KORRIBAN! YES! HA! TAKE THAT DISNEY! You take your new so-called “canon” and your “Moraband” and you fuck right off. I salute you, Bitcoin Boy![/starwars_eu_nerd_mode]

Ah, the porch scene... This one I do have a bunch of thoughs on that will probably make it into meta proper one day, so I'll leave it for now. It was the one that took the most thinking about for me to square (still not a lot, it should be noted), but now I'm actually very happy about it. (Full disclosure: none of their scenes feel quite right the first time I see them these days, because I'm just so very on edge about what's to come that I kind of miss the forest for all the trees you know? It's not a Shameless thing – it's always like this when I'm extremely invested in something and have waited for it for some time. Will it fit with how I see the characters? Will it be cringey? Will Mickey suddenly profess a love for hideous Hawaii shirts? Also, what are they saying because English is hard... But then I watch them a couple of times and they sink in and I start to get giddy over them. I guess watching actual canon unfold always requires a little bit of re-calibration if you've been busy fanoning while waiting for it to arrive, and while I love that sort of interpretative work, there’s also the fear that the show will veer off into a direction I cannot easily follow.)

Mickey's insistence that he spelled monogamy wrong does genuinely amuse me. Not to mention the whole “No more parking tickets for me!” - “You don't have a car, dumbass.” Also, Mickey being friendly with Carl kills me, in a good way. Family FTW!

Frank's storyline fails to stir even the vaguest hint of interest in me, as per usual. For all his talk of family in this episode, the lack of interaction with any of his kids is striking. If he's to have any value at all this season I'll need him to get involved in the rest of the Gallagher's storylines (which seems like it might be happening at least for a bit later on, so I'm vaguely hopeful?). I find but faint intrigue in Carl's and Debbie's stuff, but it doesn’t annoy me either so I'll call it a win. Kev and V are (almost) always a delight, but do anyone else feel like their kids are only props, even to them? I don't know... I just don't think there's a connection or sense of realness to their relationship, you know? Maybe it's just me... Anyway, here's to hoping V turning pageant mom changes all that! Oh, and I'll need Liam to have some more screentime and stuff to do.

The Tommy and Kermit thing was weird. Eh. Whatever.

Sandy is so gorgerous. I can't. The Milkoviches really be bringing it this episode.

This is only the second season I've watched episode by episode as it airs (other one was S6) and it's a curiuos experience. I think that by and large, and particularly in later seasons, Shameless works better when you binge it, but I love the delightful anticipation of waiting for a new episode and the feverent discussion that follows. Sometimes I also despair over the ferverent discussion that follows, but... you know. It is what it is. Admittedly, any attempts at meta this early in the season is a precarious venture at best, since we don't have the whole story, and it might be wiser to abstain but it's just so much fun, so I'm not very likely to stop.

All in all, I love the Gallavich stuff, am intrigued by Lip & Tami and Kev & V's lives, okay with whatever Debbie and Carl's got going on, hot for Sandy, bored by Frank, and missing Liam. It sets up a lot of promising things, but as an episode all unto itself it felt a bit empty – probably because there were no real plots and the storylines didn't intersect as much as I would have liked them to. Shameless is best when it's about family, which both the show and Frank seems to recognize, but there's little narrative follow-through on that realization in this episode; everyone is pretty much doing their own thing. Adored the Lip and Ian convo, and that house party scene was wonderful, but so short. Think we'll get more of all of them together going forward, though, and more actual plots too, so I'm very excited about it all. Can't wait for Sunday!

[starcolle-archive]

On Being “Fucked Up” (in general & about others) And Working Through It All.

Okay, so, I’ve been trying to write this post for ...a while now. And I might add on the drafts later on The drafts are in the readmore, and although parts repeat what’s said in the “actual” post, I recommend checking it out for further info that I don’t talk about in the post (eg Dom/me Drop and other unexpected topics); anyways, here’s the “stop fucking around and just say what you want/need to say, Ry’n!” edition. (Also, this first paragraph is a link to a google drive folder of e-books/e-workbooks I highly recommend checking out, even if it’s a quick cursory glance, especially “The Autism Relationships Handbook”; please.)

So last year in March, around the very beginning of Covid, I got a “lovely” anon ask that (among other things) said: “glad to see you’re still as fucked up as ever. especially about olivia.” Which to begin with is a terrible thing to say, and something I’m honestly disappointed anyone that knows me would ever consider sending to me.

Looking back on it all, what really got me “fucked up” in the first place was (in 2019) having this well of dammed up emotions, thoughts, desires, what have you, about my best friend who I missed dearly; my best friend who I thought hated me, wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, utterly despised me, loathed me because of what I’d done. And then finding out, no, she actually still cared about me, and missed me greatly; the dam burst and the rushing water of confusion and chaos muddied the thoughts and emotions until it was difficult to discern which were the “present” thoughts & which were the lingering sentiments that’d become unsedimented in the flash flood of feelings.

I’d sent her a happy birthday message as an apology & a wish of good will; in all honesty, I expected her to respond by blocking me. Instead she said she missed me!?

I didn’t know how to respond; a part of me was ecstatic, and a part of me was horrified with myself. I’d spent the latter half of the Fall 2018 semester in agony during our dance class, thinking she wanted nothing to do with me when all I wanted to do was apologize and talk to her again.

When on the morning of our Dance Class’s final exam, I’d spun out on the connector coming from Crestview, literally spinning my van 180 degrees into the dirt, She was the first person I wanted to call. But I couldn’t because she’d vaguely told me she’d blocked my number (I’d tried sending her a text hoping that she was okay during Hurricane Michael; which was shortly after the October Mental Breakdown). I still made it to the final, although solely so that I could try to give her my apology letter, since the teacher was understanding and said I could come in some other time if I wasn’t able to make it (but that’s a different ‘story’ entirely).

But yeah, I can definitely agree that I was decently “fucked up” back then. It’s ironic though, because my interactions with Olivia were actually some of the least stressful parts of 2019; I’d argue comforting actually, even during breakdown(s) of communication due to misunderstandings. Especially when we were making progress, communicating our pain, and attempting to make amends for all of our past mishaps & unintentional toxicity. I don’t think I’ve ever journaled as much/consistently as that period of time; absolutely to understand myself, but also to understand her (in general & specifically so I could be there for her), to the best of my ability.

(I remember telling her I wanted to earn her trust to meet up and talk/apologize in person; I wish she had told me she was seeing someone, because I would’ve told her “Great! All the more reason to meet up; I want to reconcile the past hurt I caused & help you stop yourself from repeating the patterns you had while we were together/were ‘just friends’ & might still be perpetuating. If they make you happy, then I wanna support y’all’s relationship the best way I know how: by being your best friend & being there for you.” ...I remember telling chelli multiple times that one thing I really would’ve loved was, had Olivia and I rekindled our friendship, the possibility of hanging out and going on a double-date with our “SO”s at the time ...also, yeah it’s using me as a guinea-pig, but I feel like seeing if your SO will properly gender a close friend of yours or not, regardless of y’all’s past history, is a pretty good litmus test to see if they’re a decent person/y’all’re even compatible.)

With all that past stuff “out of the way,” I go back and forth on if I’m still “fucked up” about Olivia.

I’m not fucked up in that I’m finally starting to feel like my myself again, gradually meeting new people/making new friends, and having great experiences as I try my best to live my most authentic life.

But I am fucked up in that I worry a big chunk of me will always be missing; perpetually saddened by the fact that I can’t text my best friend things, ranging from “Mr. Blue Sky was playing at work today and it made me think of you :)” all the way to “omfg a customer of mine just told me she’s a burlesque dancer, and it made me miss you and really want to finally watch Burlesque together because I know it’s one of your favorite films, and I haven’t let myself watch it yet/might never watch it because it wouldn’t feel right without you.” (Said customer was in like less than a week ago, and I asked if she rock climbed, since for some reason she gave off that vibe to me, to which she then told me she was a dancer.)

I’m not fucked up in that I’m still figuring out what I want to do with my life, and finally might have an idea of what I actually-actually wanna study.

But I am fucked up in that one of the (multiple; but it definitely wasn’t one of the biggest) issues I had with going to UWF was remembering how (during the conversation that followed my Happy Birthday Message she said) she was gonna be uncomfortable being on the same campus as me; something that we once were (or at least I thought we were) looking forward to getting to do together, regardless of what our relation to each other was.

I’m not fucked up in that I think I’d love to go back to school to get a Masters of Science in Library Studies, and FSU just so happens to have that degree program & is rated “highly” for it compared to other universities.

But I am fucked up in that one of the (again, multiple; this was nowhere near a major reason, but definitely a kinda-nail-in-the-coffin) reasons I moved to Tally instead of Pcola is because I couldn’t handle the thought of running into her and her looking through me as if I was a stranger (it’s tempting to say ‘whose laugh she could recognize anywhere’); part of me had hoped that maybe being in a bigger city/going to the same University we’d get the chance to become friends again, but uh, I don’t want to get in the way of her living her life when she’s told me she doesn’t want me in it.

I’m not fucked up in that thinking about it more and more, being a Librarian really does (hypothetically) suit me well, even better than a (eg: Physics) Teacher would; and so it feels like I might’ve finally found a piece of myself I didn’t know I was missing.

But I am fucked up in that I got the idea to become a Librarian from a Librarian on TikTok, who talked about her experiences as an archivist, and how she had worked with all different kinds of lawyers. It feels like a great deal of Cosmic Poeticism for Olivia to (eventually) become a Lawyer & me to (hopefully) become a Librarian and/or Archivist; which is a nice thought, albeit extremely sad too if nothing were to ever come of it (which is unfortunately very likely; however, the universe/gxd “works in mysterious ways” after all lol), in that maybe we actually were meant to be some kind of partners after all.

I’m not fucked up in that I might be getting a marriage license with chelli so that she can share her (really good & really cheap) health insurance with me ...trans healthcare is way too expensive, and something I haven’t really talked much about (irl & online) is a feeling of being a burden because of me being trans (among other reasons, but being trans is the most “burdensome” imho).

But I am fucked up in that I don’t know if I’ve ever had any actual desire to be with chelli romantically. And despite everything that has happened between Olivia and I, and especially considering all the things she’s said directly to me (then again, half the things she’s said to me have been the opposite of what she’s meant/wanted to actually say; but when you tell me things then make it hard to communicate with you, I’m forced to take it at face value, even when I know I shouldn’t), on some deep level it still feels wrong/a betrayal to Her; something that honestly probably shouldn’t even cross my mind, yet after everything, it does. I know though that even if we were in contact, even if we both allowed ourselves to reach that level of interest in the other again & acknowledged it too, her levelheadedness would recognize that this is the best course of action in the current moment so that I can be my best self. (I honestly have no clue what it’d take for me to regain & allow myself to have romantic feelings for her again, let alone get to such an extreme level as to desire marriage, but I’d love to know the mix of reactions she’d have if she ever read this. Disgusted? Flattered? Confused? Annoyed? Intrigued?)

I’m not fucked up in that I know she’s living her life to the best of her ability, and knowing that makes me incredibly proud/happy/excited for her.

But I am worried that a part of me will always be “fucked up” because I won’t get to be a part of any of it; especially any of her major life events like we promised each other we would. A lot of people (especially cishet men) think that being “just friends” after a relationship is ‘settling,’ but to me, being friends if a romantic relationship isn’t working out/can’t work at that point in time is natural/logical; what’s really “settling” is losing that best friend, especially over a bunch of misunderstandings & miscommunications, and not knowing and/or telling the other person what they can do to work it out.

(This next paragraph was following the thought process of “Okay, as a thought experiment, let’s say I’m always ‘fucked up about Olivia,’ so what? I’m still ‘fucked up’ about Krys in extremely similar yet completely separate ways. But the thing is: I’m constantly working on it, and fuck am I proud of myself for the growth I’ve made and continue to make every single day!”)

No matter what I do to isolate, distance, or even negotiate with my feelings for Olivia, they seem to all be irremovable in one way or another; we truly have to let ourselves feel our emotions so that we can move through them. I’ve accepted the possibility that I will forever be “fucked up … about olivia.” because that’s life. There will always be a corner of my heart reserved for my best friend. But in the way that my heart is a home, it’s a room for her; one that might be mine, but it’s hers to do with. The rest of my heart belongs to me, but there are other nooks and crannies that my friends and other past loved ones can call home too. Very few come close to the size of hers, and none of them come close to the Master Bedroom that is my own, but each one is unique in that they’re incredibly personal; decorated with the hardships and the fondness, the agony and the bereft breaths we’ve shared. Some need cleaning up, some need patching up, and some might need to be renovated entirely, but that’s the magic of it all. Our brains and hearts may have a finite size, give or take, but the home we call our heart is ever expanding!

So uh anyways (now that I’m done tearing up; something I’m genuinely glad to finally be able to do thanks to HRT), you might ask, hypothetical-reader’s-disembodied-voice, “But Ry’n, it’s been nearly a year & a half since you got that ask, why are you just now talking about it?” Well, cause last year was last year and it also followed up the (as I wrote in one of my previous drafts) ‘anxiety-inducing-multiple-toxic-environments-cluster-fuck of 2019’; I was/still-sorta-am-but-also-nowhere-near-as-much-as-I-was toxic during 2019, and I’m disappointed in myself. I allowed the combination of a toxic home environment, toxic work environment, and incredibly-boundary-ignoring toxic “romantic” relationship to get the “better” of me and dilute a lot of the progress I’d made during 2018; like straight up there was a point (or two) where I got so mentally fucked up depression-wise, that I stopped taking my meds, including my hormones, and essentially de-transitioned unintentionally because I no longer had the support system/network I’d spent building up in mid-to-late 2018/beginning of 2019 (which unfortunately happened again during the 2020 quarantine). Yeeeeeeaaaaaahh...

Shit.

Fucking.

Sucked.

On a similar-ish note, have you ever bounced between Puberty & Menopause because your cishet Doc doesn’t want your hormone levels to be “too high” (aka the necessary levels for A CIS GIRL TO GO THROUGH PUBERTY) ? Trust me, it isn’t fun! As a side note, once I’ve been on hormones long enough to have gone through a “full puberty,” I’m legitimately thinking of increasing my testosterone back to somewhere between cis-women’s-high-range and cis-men’s-low-range because I feel like that’ll be more “me” (and among the benefits to working out and such, hopefully I’ll be able to produce sperm again at some point too!). The point being: it’s *what I want/need* and not what someone else wants for me.

But just like getting a Master’s degree, it’s at least a few years down the line, and so I’ll end this post with this TL;DR:

“The love you have for someone will always be a part of you, but please take care of yourself and remember to give yourself the same love you wish you could’ve given/could still give them. If they are actually deserving of the love you wish you could/’ve give/n them, they’d want you to Keep Moving Forward and strive to be your best self. We’ve all got fucked up lives (in general but also because of the last year & a half), and we can try to have open & understanding hearts, but if we don’t communicate & explore the hurt we’re feeling, we may just end up perpetuating it instead of soothing & healing it. Please try to love yourself; I may not know you (or the current version of you), but I know you are so, SO deserving of love, patience, gentleness, and a reminder that you are wanted in this world. I wish I could be a part of your world, but if that’s not possible (like, period or just for right now), I hope you know how much you mean to everyone in your life, as well as me; regardless of how much or how little I may know about you. If you’re reading this, you ARE a good person, regardless of what any inner voice might tell you (remember: you are NOT your intrusive thoughts); things around us might not seem to be getting better, but just by reading this & believing in yourself, I think KNOW you’re getting better. I believe in you. You are loved. I’m sorry. And please make sure you let the people who matter to you know that they do matter to you; you have no idea how much it could mean to them, how much it could help calm the storms their minds weather, the ones that they don’t discuss as they worry it might burden you as well.”

Like, yes, I've been "fucked up" in the past in regards to her, especially since I've been in a near-constant state of Dom/me Drop until recently, so much so that I haven't been aware/let myself be aware until the recent months. (Before any hypothetical readers get any further, I wanna say that although each day brings its own volley of hurdles, I'm doing relatively-a-lot-better & I feel like I'm closer than ever before to finally being happy after all these years.) I think that's been my biggest issue in regards to moving on/through everything that's happened. (Biggest, but definitely not the only one.) Just like how I was engaging in self destructive behavior, or rather: I was self harming without consciously being aware of it all; and it still fucks me up that I hurt the one person I wanted to protect most ...maybe writing about it is a way for me to forgive myself. Also, this entire post is a link to my Google Drive where there are a small group of easily digestible e-books & e-workbooks on recognizing & working through trauma (one of which is specifically about autistic people & our relationships; with ourselves, others, and trauma). I think back to all of the pictures we sent back & forth, and two are burned into my mind the most. The first is of her in her car waiting for her friends: a little disheveled & maybe with some bedhead; pretty much no makeup on whatsoever. And when I got it, all I could think about was how she was the most beautiful person in the world; stunning without trying. Gorgeous. I'm sure a decent part of me would still agree, but I digress. The other is of her, heartbroken, saying how she wanted to kill herself; specifically wanting to drive off the local bridge. I don't think I'd ever hated myself as much until that point in my life; and this is coming from someone who has suffered from intense gender dysphoria, self-blame for the litany of abuse I've endured, all on top of countless years of suicidal ideation. I don't think people can ever truly understand what it means to be "fucked up" until they learn the person you've fallen for, grown to want to spend your entire life with, now wishes they were dead because of the pain you've caused them; the person that made me want to truly thrive and live my life to the fullest now wanted to die because of me? I remember her begging me to take her back, and I wanted to, but what kind of monster would I have been had I actually done it? I loved her (and a part of me always will), and this is what I let happen!? Looking back, yes it was an incredibly toxic & manipulative thing to send to me; and likely was trying to guilt me into taking her back ...despite having the EXACT OPPOSITE effect. But we were both young and didn't have the proper resources to express & explore our feelings at the time. If anything, it's just made me sadder over time for not being able to recognize how to respond; but that's the beauty of hindsight: I know I've grown as a person BECAUSE I know how to & would be able to handle situations like that now. As a side point: I didn't even really want to be in a relationship with Tiff (don't get me wrong, we're still friends & I love talking with her from time to time), I ONLY said yes because of two reasons: 1, Olivia had said we weren't getting back together & 2, Tiff had asked me to be her girlfriend. (Olivia told me she didn't think she could ever love a woman after months of telling me about transphobic comments her mom had made; which tbh given the fact that I'm nonbinary & hella genderflux, specifically I'm never truly a woman except in the lesbian/sapphic sense, her mom wouldn't have had to know I was trans for YEARS. Anyways, I tried talking about it, but there was only so much you could talk about through text. She'd also lied about falling out of love with me while actively forcing herself to fall out of love when all we needed was better communication.) Looking back, I

can say with 100% guarantee that any romantic affection I had for/gave to Tiff was just my feelings for Olivia being misdirected. Kinda like my romantic feelings for chelli, but I digress. I'm gonna insert a post I'd tried writing a month ago, but never felt comfortable posting/refining until now: [It's ironic that right as pride month ends (I'm talking like sometime between like midnight and 1am of July 1st), I finally came across the scene from The Good Doctor with the trans girl. I'd always thought the character was a trans woman, not a young trans girl, in the episode that Kathy had started screaming at the TV about. I feel like that makes it even worse. I know it was years ago, and so I'd like to believe she's grown since then, but that doesn't change the fact that a major part of what lead to my self-harming in Chicago was because of how afraid of her I was (feeling alone and afraid are probably two of the worst feelings to combine; although I imagine a lot of people have learned that after 2020). Maybe "afraid of her" isn't the right phrasing, but Olivia was absolutely afraid of her mother, whether she ever realized/acknowledged it or not, and that eventually caused me to feel unsafe in our relationship. My anxiety was CONSTANTLY telling me she'd leave me because of her mother, which became a negative feedback loop of me pushing her away unconsciously, leading to me consciously fighting with myself & lashing out at her when I needed her reassurance the most ...I was afraid of being abandoned again, and did what fake-male-Ryan did best: push people away for a false sense of control; yes, I do recognize how ridiculous it sounds in hindsight, but I was a traumatized animal doing what traumatized animals do best: lash out in self defense. I wish I had been able to keep my strength when I moved to Chicago; I absolutely had lapses of my self before moving up there, I have one in mind that haunts me heavily to this day (and have wanted to apologize to her for a long time), but for the most part I was decently in control of "Ryan" pre-move. I remember pushing her to look into therapy (which although that Ryan literally couldn't have been as gentle as she deserved, I look back and recognize how I could've been the better person she needed me to be) in the hopes that it'd give her the tools to have a healthier relationship with both Kathy and Hannah. For full transparency, at first I expected to be in her life for a much, much shorter period, and figured I'd try and do as much "good" as I could; I say it like that cause boy was I an asshole at times. But I also phrase it like that because whereas I may have been the one to challenge her, she was the one that put in the work to grow and become a more refined version of herself; I have no idea what she'd be like nowadays had we never known each other, but I'm confident that she'd have eventually grown into herself (I'm fighting my ego here, because I'm incredibly proud of how she'd grown while we knew each other, and I REALLY want to take credit for whatever part I played in it, but like, this is my old best friend I'm talking about here, and so whatever conceitednes I may have left gets washed away surprisingly effortlessly). I wish I'd been capable of handling things gentler, and as such it serves as one of my reminders of why I HAVE TO be gentler with myself & others ...But something about the loneliness, and having my existence as a trans person heavily fetishized (not in the sexual sense, rather in a fear of hate) made me dissociate & decay through depersonalization to the point of having similar effects of early-onset-dementia. It was a groundhog day of self-destruction and I'm not proud of my behavior. I will say though, there were so many things that forced us to drift apart, and yes the environmental pressures doomed us from the start, but that doesn't mean I get off scot-free; the opposite really, because ultimately *I'm* the one that hurt her. Like, it ate me alive when she told me she wanted to die (kill herself? The black & white snaps have been

forever burned into my memory; talking about how I have a black heart & how she wanted to drive off a bridge) because I wouldn't take her back ...actually, that's probably the biggest reason why I refused to immediately take her back; I remember that the *ONLY* reason why I got in a short relationship with Tiff was because she asked me "Well why don't you be my girlfriend?" Not to overanalyze, but Olivia was (has? I have no idea what her life is like nowadays, but one can only hope/pray; see the post a few below this one for more on that) never allowed to be herself, and so I was afraid I'd never get to be myself. I was afraid I'd have to water myself down for someone I don't even care for, but meant a lot to her; the arguably bad thing is that I would've, and probably still would ...and that's what scares me. No, I KNOW I wouldn't; yes a part of me is scared to even think about it, but in all actuality, I would stand my ground. I'm Ry'n Ællin Collistar, and despite constant reoccurring self-doubt, I know my worth, and refuse to shrink myself for the comfort of others. Sure, the situations are vastly different, but the last in-depth conversation I had with chelli's parents were incredibly verbose, and so I'd like to believe that I would've held my ground fairly well had I ever had an actual lengthy conversation with Kathy. But the past isn't for dwelling, it's for learning.] So uh, yeah, like I said in the inner-post, I started writing that at around midnight or so the first day of July. Why am I posting it? Well, the bolded part about knowing my worth is a big part, alongside the other information. Anyways, back onto modern topics. I've started getting squishes (platonic crushes; a desire to be friends with someone) on a number of my new coworkers, and I'm kind of afraid I might also be getting a crush on one specific coworker (what can I say, curvy baristas are my type, I guess). It's nice though, because one of the squishes and I were talking about being flirty with coworkers & still being professional; I definitely wanna pick that conversation up some time. On top of that, because chelli is working for the state (technically it's a federal position), she has incredibly good/cheap health insurance ...but unlike Starbucks, which is more open to people being added to your plan, this is more strict. Which means chelli and I are talking about getting a marriage license so that I can have access to said health insurance (trans healthcare is NOT cheap). Which feels weird. And wrong? I'd never wanted to get married until I'd met & fallen for Olivia. And then I wanted to be married & spend my life with her. And now? Despite everything that's happened between Olivia and I, it still feels somewhat wrong. But I need to take care of myself; if I'd taken care of myself & started hormones sooner, maybe we'd still be friends (or more, but the point is that we'd actually still play a part in the other's life). Again, need to Keep Moving Forward. But it's not only a platonic marriage that's getting to me! I hate how there's a corner of my heart still reserved for Olivia, and likely will be for the rest of my life. Hate in that it used to be the four corners of my world & hate in that whenever I'm trying to do something, that corner screams for my attention. We were watching TikToks the other day, and it was a Librarian talking about her job history. It sounded exciting and something I'd genuinely consider changing my major to ...and then, she started talking about being the archivist for lawyers & helping to put together cases and such, and ...well, I got hit with a lot of feelings. It brought up thoughts of helping a certain lawyer best friend with her cases; her partner in at least one sense. I'd forgotten what it'd felt like to want something that badly, even if it was for a brief moment. Sure, it was a nice passing thought, but then I thought of how ridiculous/painful it'd be to change my major for someone that wants nothing to do with me (it actually sounds cool, regardless of Oli's involvement, and I'm

genuinely tempted to look into it). Not that I'm in school right now ...that's another sore subject. I had a number of reasons why I was hesitant to move to Pcola, but if I'm being completely honest, the final nail in the coffin for moving to Tally instead of Pcola/going to UWF was how Olivia had told me how she'd be uncomfortable going to the same university as me, alongside the potential pain of running into someone that matters immensely to me and yet wants nothing to do with me ...or worse: looks through me as if I was a stranger. Wrapping this post up, I still have no idea what the deal with O A T was; was it really written by her? It was so specific that it feels impossible to not have been. I dont know; it's all a headache, and to be completely honest, it's ridiculous that the corner of my heart still holds onto a shred of hope because of a damn good erotic fanfiction about us and our relationship. Speaking of relationships, I genuinely don't know if I actually am polyamorous; I'd probably enjoy some degree of monogamy, depending on the type of relationship. Anyways, circling back to O A T I'm genuinely sad that it never got a sequel/second chapter. And I'm not the only one, given its number of views, rating, and comments. C'est la vie: always hoping for another chapter, while forging your own story; forever writing walking blindly as we try to shine a light on the path before us. I've tried removing Olivia from my heart so many times that I've come to accept the fact that she will forever have a place in my heart, and possibly my life, and all I can do about it is live my life to the fullest, most authentic version of myself, whatever that may be. And if we ever cross paths again, whether by accident or by her intent, we'll finally get to meet each other as a more true, healthier version of our selves.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 6/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. Attempts at sexual situations. I did mention this was a slow burn, right? Like. Super slow burn.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 6: Softening the Edges

November 2: Saturday

The last time Emma remembers going on a date, it was with Walsh - and while she has a feeling Killian would appreciate the LBD with a leather twist that she still owns, she’d rather not wear something that has a memory of that asshole attached.

All of the other dresses she owns are tight and short, which worked a lot better for picking up one-night-stands. None of those dresses are going to be the right ones, either, which is why they’re all still in the back of her closet.

Instead, she’s looking at the choices hanging in front of her that she unpacked while on the phone with Killian last night. One was an impulse buy from this past spring, and the other two are loaners from Ruby and Snow.

It’s noon, and there are hours to go before the date, but Emma wants this to be perfect so she diligently takes each dress off the hanger, slipping it on and assessing each option carefully before moving on to the next. 

Her timer goes off, letting her know it’s time to retrieve her laundry. Normally, all she wants to do on a Saturday is lounge around, but nerves have her going strong right now. She also wants the loft to be spotless. Just in case she has a visitor tonight, but that’s not something she’s anticipating, so to speak, but it could be. 

The way her stomach flips tells her exactly how big of a deal that actually feels like. 

Instead of dwelling on the hopeful way he invited her in for hot chocolate on Halloween, Emma focuses on her tasks. She switches out the clothes before going back to try on the last two dresses. 

It’s between a black one that Ruby lent her and a pink one she bought online, and it’s not until the latter is on her body that she decides it’s the one. It’s soft and almost fluid, and she takes a moment to turn back and forth to feel the skirts brush against her thighs. She stands in front of her mirror admiring the picture it all makes, so unlike how she dresses for work or even for a night on the town. 

Off it goes and back on the hanger, and Emma makes sure to set out the rest of what she’ll wear, finding the perfect heels to go with it before heading downstairs to clean her bathroom. 

She’s never been one for following a specific routine other than necessities, but Emma goes through her process later when she’s getting ready. It’s maybe the only time she cares about being orderly, stashing all her makeup back away when she’s finished with another whisper to herself that it’s better to be safe.

Killian texted and said he’d be there at six-thirty, and she’s just fixed the backing on her second earring when the knock comes. 

Shaking out her hands one last time, Emma swings open the door for Killian, and immediately all thoughts simple and pure fly out the window. 

Suits and ties, she’s used to. Even the waistcoats. But this look is somehow familiar yet completely new. No thoughts of offices and editors come to mind when she looks at the total picture that the black jeans and leather vest gives off. She's tempted to invite him in now, but she’s hungry and has no intention of turning Killian into one of her really bad statistics. 

Killian, meanwhile, has a look on his face that she’ll be replaying for as long as she lives. His eyes scan her from top to bottom, not in a sexual way but in stunned surprise. And yeah, because he’s used to seeing her in jeans and a leather jacket, she doesn’t blame him for the expression on his face. He finally picks his jaw up off the floor and looks her in the eye again. 

“You look stunning, Swan,” he says, the words slow to come out as he takes in her appearance. Good to know she’s knocked him off balance, as well.

“You look…” she trails off, not even knowing how to sum it up, but he saves her the trouble.

“I know,” he says, a little smug but mostly matter-of-fact. 

Her laugh is a quick exhalation, her lips turning up into a smirk before he holds out a single rose for her. It’s a small gesture, but it’s still better than any other man has done for her on a first date. Really, on any dates at all. 

“Let me pop this in water and we’ll go,” she tells him, moving quickly to the kitchen to find a vase. 

It’s only once outside that she realizes just how cold it is, and she’s glad she wore her wool coat but momentarily regrets the lack of hat. It would’ve ruined her hair but at least her ears would be warm. 

“I hope you weren’t lying about trusting me,” Killian says as he guides her to an SUV that’s idling against the curb. 

“What’s this?”

“Robin let me borrow his vehicle for the evening. He’s been helping me get used to American driving. Might be a different side of the road but I think we’ll be all right.” He opens the door for her and waits until she’s settled before closing it again. When he climbs in and closes his own door he turns to her for a moment. “I also hope a diligent law officer can turn a blind eye for the sake of a date, since I haven’t gotten my license just yet.”

“Knew there had to be a catch,” she jokes, patting his arm comfortingly. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

It’s been years since she’s gone to Tony’s, and never has it been with a man she was seeing. The last time she was here, it was with Ruby and Snow because they wanted to dress up and feel fancy for a night while also consuming their combined weight in pasta. 

Killian hastens to pull out her chair for her, smiling as he shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair before settling in across from her. 

“No sad back stories,” Emma says as soon as their waiter walks away. “No prior relationships. Anything else is fair game.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Not really. I like you. And I’m scared and excited to be on a date again for the first time in a very long time. And I don’t want to fuck that up by rambling about how shit my luck was before I made it to where I am now.” It takes a lot of effort not to wring her hands together, even as they’re sitting in her lap. No nerves, no tension. Just enjoy a date.

“Fair point. First, let me ask your favorite type of wine,” he says, handing her the menu to consider. 

“Most reds, but not tonight.”

“Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible?” he asks, leaning back and doing something sinful with his eyebrows when he looks at her. He’s tempting… so very tempting.

“No,” she says after a moment to collect herself. “I like first dates. And I’d rather not be all cloudy by the time my dinner arrives.”

His smile turns to something pure and happy. “No wine, then.” He waits until the waiter has taken their orders before speaking again. “What’s your favorite thing about Storybrooke?” 

“That we have actual seasons here. Not like in Florida where it was just hot and humid until it wasn’t, with a smattering of hurricanes.”

“Or England where there’s maybe forty-five days when the sun shines.”

“You get the point on that one,” Emma tells him. “Why did you decide to move here?”

There’s a few emotions that cross Killian’s face all at once, and she knows without needing the explanation. Will did say it was a story for the man himself. “Okay, we’ll save that for another time, too.”

“I was genuinely surprised that a publishing company wanted to set up an office here in Storybrooke,” Emma says, realizing she’s never asked why.

“Robin prefers forests of trees over concrete jungles,” Killian explains. “There is a central office with a lot more people in New York City, but he only goes down when he has to and we utilize a lot of video conferences for everything else.”

“That’s a lot of distance for just some editing and such, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than just that, love. Robin’s looking to start up workshops and clinics for his signed authors. He’s been hosting a fellowship for new authors for a week at a time at a cabin he owns up on the edge of the town as well. If you ask him, this place has a natural fount of creative powers just waiting to be tapped into. That’s kind of how Henry happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was on vacation about a year ago with his parents… well, foster parents. They said as soon as he sat down in the room that he whipped out his pen and paper. By the time they got back from going to grab dinner downstairs at Granny’s, he had just about finished the first chapter. Worked out a deal to buy him a laptop for some chores.”

“That’s amazing. Do they come with him for his meetings with you?”

“Well,” Killian starts, and his face falls. Before the words are out of his mouth, she knows what he’s going to say. “He’s not with that family anymore. That couple did everything they could to try to make up for the fact that they had to move and not take him with them, so he has his own laptop, we communicate with him via an iPod, and he has a suitcase that he protects with his life. But his current situation is... not as ideal.”

Emma swallows hard, a bubble of emotion getting lodged in her throat. “I can imagine how much that must hurt for him.”

“He’s been in higher spirits since his new foster parents started letting him travel on his own. He’s just turned sixteen and he’s fiercely independent, so he loves to take the train from Portland by himself and make his way up the coast for a weekend, even if it’s just a few hours away.” 

“Sometimes even just a few hours can feel like a whole different country.”

“I gather you’ve lived in a few places if that’s the way you feel.”

“I didn’t really live in Boston. But sometimes going down there to visit was like going to the far reaches of the Earth. Tallahassee was too far, when it came down to it, so I’ve mostly lived here in Storybrooke with a few exceptions.”

“Where you’ve followed the family business to be a police officer.”

“Correct. Have a shiny degree with my name on it and everything. It’s just from an online degree program, but…”

She’s surprised when Killian reaches across the table to touch her hand. “Online degrees are just as valid and important as ones earned in person at a university.”

There’s something about the way he says it - Emma is positive that he’s giving the affirmation to both of them - but she pushes past wanting to ask him about it and instead flips her hand around to briefly link her fingers with his. “You’re right. They are. And I’m proud of mine.”

“But you refuse to wear a uniform?”

The urge to shudder crawls up her spine but she controls that, as well. “Hate the things. Way too unflattering, way too uncomfortable. Besides, David decided we didn’t really need them since it’s such a small department. As long as we don’t come in wearing sweatpants, he’s okay with it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, almost immediately. “There was a time when I was younger that I was sure I wouldn’t, but I do now. By the way, Regina approved our budget for upgrades. I’m sitting down on Monday and just going to town online shopping for all the things we need. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get everything we want and still have some left over.”

“That’s fantastic,” he exclaims, looking genuinely happy for her. She’s so unused to this kind of support and attention, but she’s certainly not going to complain. 

When their food arrives, they slow down a little bit but not by much. Back and forth they ask and answer, between bites of food and avoidance of the hard stuff - both in liquor and life experiences. There’s plenty to be talked about there: Emma has a metric ton of shit in her history and she knows she’ll have to talk about it eventually, but eventually isn’t today. By the time they’ve ordered dessert, she’s more relaxed than she’s ever felt on a date before. They only ordered one of the delectable selections, something that’s ice cream and delicious and not the standard tiramisu. As the check arrives, Killian reaches for his wallet and Emma grabs for her purse. At that, his eyebrow pops up.

“I’ve never been on a date with a woman who pulled out her wallet at the end,” he admits. “Would you prefer to split or would it be okay if I paid for the both of us?”

“I’ve never been on a date with a man who asked,” Emma says, gesturing for him to go on as she tucks her handbag away again. “Did you have a choice to work in NYC when you moved here?” Even though they talked about the Storybrooke location earlier, she realizes she never asked him that. 

“No. Robin specifically hired me to be a junior editor in this office.”

“Would you have preferred to work there instead of here?”

“Not at all,” Killian says without even a second of hesitation. The quickness surprises her, just like so much constantly does with him. “I was working in London and living right on the outskirts of the city when I applied for this position. I’d had enough of bustling and tourism and noise. When Robin told me I’d be moving to a town in Maine that had a population of less than ten thousand, it felt like the right move. And now that I’m settling in, I know I’ve made the right choice.”

“I may be biased, but I think you did, too.”

With the bill all settled, they exit the restaurant into the cool night air, with Emma’s hand tangled with Killian’s. She noticed that the patrons all glanced as they came and went, but Emma hopes that she and Killian are yesterday’s news before too long. It’s probably the only downside to this small town that they all feel the need to gossip like wildfire. 

He opens the car door for her again, letting his fingers trail across hers as he releases her hand and sends little shocks of heat along her skin. 

Killian walks her all the way to her door, his thumb gently rubbing against hers as they climb the stairs. She turns when they get to her door, slipping a little bit into his personal space.

“Well, not bad,” she says, reaching down and taking his hand and hook in her hands. “You managed to make me forget that I’ve spent the last three days trying to get oil spots out of my jeans thanks to an unfortunate call to Billy’s shop the other day.”

“That’s an easy, three-step process if you’d like my assistance.”

“In that case, wanna come in for some coffee and stain removal?”

He hums, stepping forward so they’re toe-to-toe, their noses brushing as she’s just at the same height with her heels on. When he speaks, his breath tickles her lips and she frees up her hands in favor of running them up the lapels of his jacket to rest on his shoulders. 

“Aye, but first, I’ve been waiting to do this all night,” he tells her, his voice low and husky and everything she wants to hear right now.

Then his lips are on hers and she’s perfectly fine with not hearing his voice because she’d rather be doing this anyway. Carefully, without breaking the kiss, she inches backwards until she can lean on the door, pulling Killian against her and letting all her thoughts leave for the moment. She doesn’t put out on the first date, but that doesn’t mean they can’t do anything else, right? His grip on her hip feels as tense as she is, and she finally stops so she can get her door unlocked. 

When it swings open, however, her apartment isn’t dark and empty like she left it, and she jolts away from Killian in surprise at Snow propped on her breakfast bar and David standing behind her counter. 

“Hey! We weren’t sure when… oh!”

Clearly, the other couple hadn’t expected Killian to still be attached to Emma when they hatched a plan to come see how it went instead of waiting until the next day. Emma glances at Killian to see the amused smile on his face. She also sees that this is where the train stops tonight, and she sighs. 

“Give us a second,” Emma says to her family as she crowds Killian back into the hallway for some semblance of privacy; she knows how thin her door is. “Do you still want to come in and have coffee? Probably get the concerned-father speech from David?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait until next time for all of that,” he says, definitely not unkindly but there’s a hint of disappointment that this is where their evening ends, and she knows the feeling. 

“Next time, huh? I don’t remember asking.”

“That’s because it’s my turn,” he tells her, his voice light and playful. Just as quickly, he gets a serious look in his eyes and she’s not sure a marching band coming out of her apartment would tear her attention away from him. “Will you go out with me again?”

His eyes are so sincere, his expression hopeful and patient and of course she’s going to go out with him again. She steps forward, deciding that actions are better than words right now, kissing him softly but solidly, making sure it teeters right on the edge of the heat they were producing just a few minutes ago. 

She can’t get over the way he holds her, the way his arms come around her and mold her against his body. That paired with the way he kisses her back, the low rumble he makes when her hand comes up to brush against his cheek before sliding into his hair, she almost gets lost to the sensations all over again, Snow and David be damned. 

With effort, Emma pulls back the tiniest bit, trying to catch her breath more at the way he leans his forehead against hers than the kiss itself at this point. 

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Goodnight Killian.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, his voice sounding equally unsteady. 

She looks back at him one more time, biting her lower lip at the mirrored look on his face. 

“I need to get the locks changed,” she mutters as she opens the door to her apartment again. “So, let’s talk about how you guys broke into my apartment tonight!”

-x-

Listening to Emma re-greet David and Snow makes Killian chuckle for a moment, and he takes a big breath as he settles his blood again. This woman is already so far under his skin that it’s hard to believe it’s only been a few months since they first spoke to one another. 

He has Robin’s car until morning, so it’s a quick, warm drive home. When he steps inside, Killian closes the door and locks it behind him, turning on light after light as he walks through the rooms that he’s inhabited for almost five months. He’s restless, only because he’s already looking forward to the next moment he gets to see Emma, and as his eyes land on various boxes and empty corners, he decides to use this momentum to finish what he started the day before. 

After changing out of his clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Killian retrieves his box cutter from the kitchen from his last unpacking adventure and starts with his office. 

It’s more than past time for him to officially make this place his home.  

-x- November 4: Monday

It takes effort for Killian to crawl out of bed on Monday. It’s probably the first time in as long as he can remember that he doesn’t bounce right out of bed as soon as his eyes are open. That excludes times he’s been sick, of course. He’s only human. But he’s not sick today. He’s tired. Downright exhausted, and with every right to be so. When he finally drags his eyes open, he looks around the room at all he accomplished. Gone are the barren walls and empty hangers. Every single piece of clothing he owns is now tidily put into its place. Trudging through his morning routine, Killian still manages to smile wide when he opens his closet to the wide array of clothes all readily available. 

He’s nearly ready when he hears the horn outside, and he smiles with the knowledge that Emma is out there waiting for him. With careful movements, he pours the two mugs of coffee from his pot and rinses it out, making sure it’s turned off before heading out. 

They’ve got a good deal starting, as far as he can tell. She brings the car, he brings the caffeine, and it’s almost as good as their walks. 

He rushes to the car through the morning chill, happy to at least have his scarf and hat in place. She pushes the door open from her side when she sees he’s laden with coffee mugs pressed against his chest with the help of his left arm.

“Hi! You found some winter weather gear!”

“Aye, finally got around to a lot of things I’ve been meaning to work on,” he tells her as he settles in, shutting the door firmly against a cold blast of wind. “Brought you coffee.”

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing the mug from him and taking a sip. She reaches over, almost without thought and squeezes his wrist to emphasize her words. 

Their banter on the way to his office is as it always is, but when she stops in front of NeverEndings, there’s care in the way she leans towards him. He meets her halfway, sighing into the simplicity of the kiss and wishing he could dawdle and kiss her in her car all day. 

“I have my lunch hour totally free today,” she tells him when they finally do part. “Want me to swing by?”

“I have a meeting with Henry this morning. I’m not quite sure how long it’ll go, but stop in and we’ll see?”

She smiles and nods, waving once as he climbs from the car and shuts the door. 

By the time Emma shows up at noon, he very clearly needs the respite. Henry is looking similarly worn down, obvious by the way the teenager is slumped in his chair, fiddling with a fidget cube that Killian keeps by his monitor for moments of extreme stress. That’s how Emma finds them, with Killian fighting off a yawn as he stares at his computer screen and Henry teetering on death by boredom. 

“Whoa. Are you guys working or just slowly melting into your seats here?”

“I’m melting,” Henry says without moving anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. 

“I’m working,” Killian adds, sitting up and stretching his neck to release the knots that are dying to form along his spine. “Darling, I’ve got just three more pages left on these edits. I’m so sorry. Would you like to stick around until we’ve finished?”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

Killian sputters for a second, unsure of how to introduce them in this situation. 

“I’m Emma,” she says, saving him from anything else. “So, Killian tells me you come up for vacations?” After shifting around a couple items, Emma makes herself comfortable by perching on the edge of the desk. 

“I did, back when…” Henry trails off, and Killian can see from this angle that Emma’s face falls into something that borders on understanding. He knows that she was raised by David’s mother, but he also knows that she uses a different surname than the Nolan household, so maybe there’s a kinship that he wasn’t even anticipating between them. 

As they get lost in conversation, Killian desperately wants to keep paying attention, to absorb in the information that she hasn’t yet divulged to him, but the edits call back to him and before he knows it, he’s lost to the words in front of him once more. 

Far longer than he would’ve liked to spend on it, he’s finally at the end of the passage and he saves the file with a noise of victory. 

“Alright, lad. We’ve got it. That’s the whole thing with edits and comments now done.”

“Really?”

“Aye. The next part is all up to you. We’ll get a look at your schedule and set up another meeting in the middle of the month if you think you can handle that.”

The boy scoffs, accepting the folder and thumb drive that Killian hands over to him. “I can practically make these changes with my eyes closed at this point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Safe travels back to the city.”

With a final wave, Henry exits his office and Killian slumps down in his chair, peering around his monitor as Emma relaxes back in the chair that Henry just vacated.

“Thanks for your patience, love. How’s your day going?”

“Better than yours, it seems. I texted Ruby and she’ll have lunch waiting for us. You ready?”

“Would you carry me there?”

Emma laughs, music to his ears, and he hauls himself from his chair, taking her hand when she offers it. 

Killian’s own lunches don’t usually last very long, but he feels he’s earned the right to relax for a little bit since the first round of edits is officially done, and his “quick” morning meeting just went two hours over his proposed time slot for it.

It’s not the end of the job, of course. There will still be more edits after Henry comes back with his changes. But that’s in two weeks, and until that time, Killian can start worrying about everything else with the book. 

Not only are there design aspects to be considered, but they’ll have the company Christmas party in New York next month, which will act as some kind of debut for Henry. It’s the one time every year that all the employees and authors come together. In England, they’ll be hosting their own version of the event, but over here, it’s a chance to celebrate the creativity that’s come out of the whole year and for Robin to announce everything they’ll look forward to in the one to come. 

While he always has an outfit ready for the black tie event, he’ll also be in charge of making sure Henry is taken care of. He’ll have to ask the lad whether he has a suitable outfit. Despite being the editor for such young talent, Killian’s primary anxiety rests over getting everything done and in a timely fashion. He decided after their first meeting that Henry was more mature than a good deal of the grown men and women he’s worked with before, but in the eyes of the world, he’s still a child, and he wants them all to see Henry like he does.

After the party will be the actual book release, and the press for it. And then there’s the worry over its success or failure, of course...

“Hey, Killian.”

“Hmm?”

Emma pulls him down for a quick kiss right on the lips. “You’ve gotta let your brain rest for a couple minutes. Coffee?” 

He looks around, having missed the whole walk over to Granny’s, apparently. He sighs, letting Emma lead them up the path to the diner. “Yes, that would be helpful.”

“I might be wrong, but I feel like you’re freaking out a little bit.”

“You’re not wrong,” he admits to her. “I just want everything to be perfect. He’s so talented, but he’s young. And one wrong step could mean the book goes nowhere.”

“I don’t think you’re going to let that happen,” she says as she sheds her coat and gloves, setting them on the seat on her side of the booth before she slides in. 

Their food and drinks are placed in front of them almost as soon as they’re settled in, and Ruby gives them both a signature smile before she zips away from the table to tend to the rest of the lunch rush. 

“Told you I gave her the heads up,” Emma says, smiling at him and nodding to his food. “Dig in. How long until you have to be back?”

“I have a meeting with Robin at 2:30 to go over our progress from today,” Killian tells her, glancing at his watch and seeing that Emma’s hour is already almost up. “You want to get a box for that?”

“Nah. I already texted David and told him I would be back later than usual.”

“You’re simply a marvel, Swan. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, smiling and propping her hand under her chin and getting comfortable with her hot chocolate, clearly settling in for some quality time.

-x-

It’s weird, Emma thinks, to be the source of comfort for someone. But judging by the way Killian relaxes almost as soon as she reassures him that he’s not going to fuck up is a pretty clear indication that he’s taken the words to heart. What’s weirder is that she likes the feeling, a lot, and wants to keep being able to do this for him whenever he needs it. 

“Tell me something new today,” she urges, using the moment to take a bite of her food before he can turn it around on her. She watches carefully as he gulps, clearly already knowing what he wants to say but maybe afraid to speak the words.

“Promise you won’t let it scare you off?”

“I can try,” she says honestly, but there’s no fear sparking in her stomach, no panic in her lungs. 

“Seeing you for the first time was the moment I finally felt like I was really here - that I’d really moved to a whole new country and started a brand new job. Your hair was down. It caught the sunlight first, and then your badge did. I couldn’t get over how you looked ethereal and yet so solidly real, and you were staring at me as if you were waiting for me.”

It’s her turn to swallow hard, hearing his admission, and knowing that the day he first saw her, she was waiting for him. 

“Wow,” she finally manages. She picks at her forgotten food, the blush rising to her cheeks and the smile unable to be contained. 

“I’ve been told I could write romance novels,” he says, and it’s the seriousness of his tone mixed with the smile in his eyes that finally makes Emma grin as it calms her nerves.

“I’d buy them,” she admits.

“I could write about a hapless Brit learning all about American culture from some blonde goddess in a red leather jacket.”

“And what adventures would they go on, Killian?”

“Epic battles, Swan. They couldn’t have just any boring old story. They would need action, fighting to find each other after being separated, and when it’s all said and done they would share True Love’s Kiss and she would turn him into a frog.” She is so obviously distracted by the way his hand has reached across the table and his fingers are rubbing over her knuckles, the deep timbre of his voice, that she almost misses the last part, but she hears it, and she chortles at the picture he’s painted. 

She takes a deep breath, prepared to share something of her own. “I didn’t want to date you,” she admits. It’s like an anvil dropped in the middle of the table but if he just admitted all of that to her, maybe she can meet him halfway.

His face falls, and she hurries to continue.

“Not like that,” she says reassuringly, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize. “I had this idea that you would just be this stranger I passed on the street every day and that would be enough. And then we started talking and I thought - okay, this is cool. We can be friends.” She laughs even thinking of it, at the sheer absurdity that she was so sure there would be nothing between them.

“You started it,” he says. “You kissed me first.”

“Yeah? So let’s talk about setting up that second date.”

“Well, I’ve finally finished moving into my flat, so I think it would be nice to have someone over to see it without towers of boxes invading each room.”

“I think that sounds like a good plan.”

There’s a thought that flashes through her mind that adds together one part Killian, one part dinner, one part alone, and it takes her a moment to pull her mind from the gutter once more. Especially when she thinks of how they were interrupted before he could come inside after their first date. 

But more than for anything like that, Emma thinks about how nice it’ll be to have something closer to a quiet night - there won’t be any townspeople staring at them and taking notes to pass around to all their friends. No one will take notice of them leaving and speculate about what’s about to happen next. Plus, the idea of Killian cooking is quite appealing. 

“Saturday?” she asks before they part ways after lunch is over.

“Saturday sounds perfect,” he reassures her. And while she’s already excited for it, she also knows they have a whole week of little moments like this to look forward to. 

-x-

Chapter 7

[robotslenderman]

Still only partway through CP77.

Spoilers for the Death’s Head questline.

Warning: this involves my V ignoring canon, having a mental breakdown and expressing it by attacking poor, poor fucking Judy.

So like

My V was a complete fucking mess after the Heist and what happened there. Her best friend (and crush) was dead, she almost died, and she had a fucking terrorist in her head who could TOUCH HERRRR and had hijacked her body and hurt her, and she was going to die in a month and slowly lose control of her body to someone who wanted to hurt her.

She. Was fucking. Terrified. Even when Johnny offered an olive branch she didn’t trust him at all (something Judy would come to relate to, although my V hasn’t yet noticed the parallel).

So when Judy refused to give her any information on Evelyn?

V, who was absolutely scared for her life and having a mental breakdown after the death of her best friend, went to visit Judy.

With a baseball bat.

And used it.

I know this doesn’t make it better at all, but V did hold back a bit -- didn’t hit the head, pulled her punches on the body and spine, and mostly went for the legs. If any permanent damage was done, it wouldn’t be to Judy’s brain, it wouldn’t be to her hands or arms. Better she disabled Judy’s ability to walk if she went too far than fucking lobotomising her or fucking up her hands.

How fucking considerate of her, I know. V basically wanted to scare the shit out of her, made her think that other people were hunting down Evelyn (”if you don’t give me this information, I’ll just fucking kill you. I don’t need you. I can wait for someone else to find her first and drop in on them. So you better talk because otherwise you’re not getting out of here alive”), and made a big song and dance about how the only reason V wasn’t going to fucking annihilate Judy on the spot was because Jackie would never forgive her for turning into a complete monster.

Anyway. Poor Judy quickly blurted out the information about Clouds once she realised V was not fucking around. V threatened her again, then got the fuck out. And obviously hasn’t been back to Lizzie’s since.

When she calmed down she wrote Judy an apology letter. (I told my friend this. She was like “your V is fucking psycho.” Yeah.) She was like “look, I know an apology doesn’t mean jack fucking shit after what I did to you, but... idk man. send me what you owe the ripperdoc and I’ll square my debt to you.”

Yeah V, because contacting someone you fucking traumatised is a BRILLIANT FUCKING IDEA, I bet Judy wouldn’t be afraid AT ALL to send you a bill!

(Naturally, Judy didn’t reply and just sent some of the Mox. V gave them everything she could spare and told them to come back in a week for the rest. They roughed her up. She fought back enough to defend herself and eventually toss them out, but didn’t attack them because she knew that wouldn’t help Judy.)

Needless to say, when she ran into Judy at Fingers’ place Judy was NOT at all happy to see her and didn’t want to work with her at all. V basically gave her all the details she uncovered at Clouds -- by now she was actually pretty damn worried about Evelyn and she’d started coming to terms with the fact she was going to die, so she was far more concerned about finding Evelyn than getting anything from her, and was terrified Evelyn was dead.

But obviously Judy was still Mega Freaked Out and traumatised and wasn’t going to work with her. V didn’t offer, either. V didn’t try to scare Judy, but she was also a bit tetchy because Judy obviously didn’t want her looking for Evelyn still, and so V probably scared her a little still because V was like “look, I’m going to find her whether you like it or not, get out of my way. She is in big fucking trouble and I don’t have time for this.”

Judy followed her into Fingers’ room and watched her deal with Fingers. V was actually pretty calm when dealing with Fingers, then realised how fucked up it was that she beat up Judy but not this asshole, so she beat up Fingers too.

Nice, V. Way not to freak out Judy even more.

But obviously, Judy didn’t want to work with V like she did in canon. So V got the snuff film by herself. Unfortunately, she needed an editor, so this was the point where she reached out to Judy again. Sent her a text message that basically said, “This film could help me find Evelyn. Give me a time when you won’t be in and I’ll use your stuff to get into edit mode and track them down.”

V’s dumbass logic: “she probably doesn’t want to see me but I need this information, so I’ll just tell her to keep away from me.”

Judy’s response was “oh my god, even if you could do this without someone on the outside what the hell makes you think I’d let you on my tech unsupervised?!”

(V: “Oh. Right.”) “Do you want me to find Evelyn or not?”

“That’s not what I meant! Come in, but I’m operating the computer and I’m putting Mox in there with us, so don’t you dare try to intimidate me.”

“... Yeah that’s a much better idea. I just knew you wouldn’t want to be alone with me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

(V, thinking a joke might put her at ease a bit, not realising it just makes her look like a psychopath anyway.) “It’s okay, I’ll leave the baseball bat at home.”

(Judy is not at all amused.)

So the questline continues the way it does in-game, except with a very jumpy Judy. It’s when they find Evelyn that Judy is freaked out enough to be distracted from V. V carries out Evelyn, speaking to her softly.

At this point V had totally come to terms with the fact she was going to die. And Evelyn was a complete fucking mess, and Evelyn was not going to talk even if V wanted her to. So my V didn’t even bother with that, just helped Judy get Evelyn the hell out of there.

Once Evelyn was settled in Judy’s apartment (it’s only later that Judy realises “oh shit, now V knows where I live”) Judy and V’s conversation went almost exactly as it did in canon, with the exception of the more trusting/loyal responses Judy gives you, which Judy simply omitted. V also elaborated on some of the stuff in her letter -- that V was dying because of the relic slowly overwriting her presonality, and she’d hunted down Evelyn because Evelyn could give her a lead to go on to reverse the process. But V still didn’t make any attempts to talk with Evelyn. V knew she was going to die. She wasn’t going to compound Evelyn’s trauma even more. When Judy expressed concern that other people were hunting Evelyn, V was like “oh, shit, no, actually, I was bluffing.”

“...”

“I wasn’t going to kill you. I just wanted to make you think I was. I don’t know of anyone actually trying to hunt her down, and I didn’t run into anyone at all while chasing up this information on her. So either she’s in the clear and nobody wants her, or they’re being damn subtle about it. Either way, since she’s in this condition she’ll be staying inside and lying low, so that’ll help her shake off any tail she might have.”

V gave Judy some more money, though not the full amount because she’s still scraping the eddies together -- told Judy she’d make sure she was fully reimbursed before she went. Told Judy if she or Evelyn needed anything more, call her.

...

By then, after seeing her with Evelyn, Judy is not sure about my V.

After the baseball bat incident, Judy thought that my V was an unhinged violent lunatic. I mean, V was an unhinged violent lunatic -- but she’d thought my V was that by default. But obviously my V showed Evelyn a lot of empathy and concern -- genuine empathy and concern, not V trying to go “LOOK HOW NICE I AM” to Judy. She knew V wasn’t trying to show false empathy to butter up Judy because V got pissed at her in Fingers’ office for getting in the way of her trying to find Evelyn to make sure Evelyn was okay. That is, pissed at her for that specific occasion of Judy getting in the way -- V was definitely not checking on Evelyn’s wellbeing when she visited Judy with the baseball bat, but Judy tried to discourage V from going after Evelyn again at Fingers’ office and V’s response was pretty much “oh fuck OFF, she’s in a really bad situation and needs help.”

So Judy was like, okay, there’s two possible judgements you can make about V:

V is one of those people who seems absolutely lovely until she gets in a bad mood, which is even more fucking terrifying because that makes her unpredictable.

V legitimately was in the middle of a mental breakdown and Judy just happened to be really fucking unlucky in that she was the convenient target. V had said this in her letter but obviously Judy was like “What the FUCK did you really send me an APOLOGY LETTER for almost BEATING ME TO DEATH” and hadn’t really taken it seriously, but now she’s starting to think V might have actually told the truth.

Judy is hoping it’s the latter but she’s not holding her breath, and also you have to remember that even if it was a mental breakdown... it showed her exactly what V was like when she was having a mental breakdown, and therefore meant V was perfectly fucking capable of doing it again.

(Meanwhile V was thinking “If she knows I was having a mental breakdown then she knows she doesn’t have to be scared of me doing it again.” No, V. You’re wrong.)

Judy is less spooked after seeing V in action with Evelyn, but she’s still very wary of her. But after V helped her with Evelyn, Judy told her not to worry about the rest of the eddies and just accepted what V gave her then and there. V almost pushed it, but realised Judy probably didn’t want to feel indebted to someone who beat her up with a baseball bat, so she dropped it.

V later sent Judy a weighted blanket for Evelyn to sleep under. “I’ve got one, it helps when I’m stressed. It won’t make her any better, but it might give her a little comfort.”

So right now, V and Judy have an uneasy truce. V keeps her distance from Judy unless she has to, except to occasionally ask after Evelyn, and Judy keeps her distance right back.

V is, however, not sucking up to Judy or grovelling to her. All she wanted was to let Judy know she didn’t have to be scared of her (although again, Judy is perfectly fucking aware that even if it was an actual mental breakdown then yes Judy should be scared of V having another one), that Judy didn’t have to worry about V going back to have another go at her.

V’s not going to make a huge deal about what a horrible person she was. She’s... well. Even if she thought it would help, she’s got a month to live unless the omega blockers give her more time. She’s not going to wear a hair shirt over this. She gave Judy some funds for the ripper doc, she’s apologised (even if an apology feels awfully pathetic), and she’s kept away from her.

Now she’s going to go back to chasing up leads, because Evelyn is in no condition to help. Because Judy released her, she’s been able to pay off her debt to Vik, and now she’s scraping up funds to pay Rogue for help and trying to talk Hakemura out of that fucking parade because that idiot keeps trying to get himself killed and she has to stand by to haul his ass out of the fire.

[ivebeenmade]

Elliot Alderson’s 5 year plan

“It’s...bigger than I expected.” Tyrell remarks, weighing the binder of loose leaf notes in both arms. Elliot had been telling him for the last few days that they needed to ‘talk’. This isn’t exactly what he expected but there’s really little explanation needed.

FIVE YEAR PLAN is written boldly on the cover page; it’s laminated and everything. Wellick gives a low whistle. Elliot tries to reach for the hefty plans (no pun intended) his boyfriend is holding.

They’d spent a few months away in Sweden. Call it regrouping. As Tyrell leafs through the first few pages, dodging Elliot’s attempts to save him from what he’s now convinced might scare the man away, he sees that the vacation is a small part of Alderson’s big plans.

“It’s too much,” Elliot begins. Tyrell is shaking his head, settling down. This is going to take a while. By the looks of the binder, the color coded tabs, he could simply reference this as they go. He’s come to learn that the fully integrated Elliot Alderson was a little bit of the other personalities he’d met, and then some; and also not a thing like any of them at all most of the time. The motivation, the joy he got from accomplishing his goals or helping the ones he loved do the same, it was infectious. 

“No. No it’ll just take some time.” An eyebrow raised here, a comment there. “I think I’m beginning to get a feeling for your system at least.” The blond laughs. Clearly, the color coding is broken down into “stuff Elliot needs to do”, “stuff Elliot hopes Tyrell will do”, and “other” (ie how he plans to get Darlene to get her shit together, how Leon might fit into a corporate world...oh yeah, redefining Ecorp was part of the plans but fell under another category...well, multiple categories).

Elliot’s easy grin and tilt of his head go along with an almost distractingly intense stare. He seems to get this way whenever Tyrell speaks these days. The latter has already come to realize that some of the accent he tried to squash while blending into corporate America has probably come back pretty thick in the months they’ve spent healing. He’s noticed he has more of a tendency to pepper in words and phrases of his first language. Elliot loves it, and explains without prompting one day that it shows how much more relaxed he is, how he’s not this big ball of fakery and nerves (who he very much hated himself) anymore. It’s progress. 

Great progress, he’d remarked wistfully. There’s a section in the giant binder for the both of them quitting the worst of their habits. Elliot’s drug problem had started before the others took over, and the effects were still very much felt. He’d handled that with counselors and the right prescriptions to help his body handle the chemical addiction. 

Hours in, debating little details as the author of these big plans had expected, Tyrell accepts that the brilliant mind he’d very much fallen for in the beginning was the core of Elliot. Finding joy in the little things, planning for the future, it was beautiful. He couldn’t describe how fucking grateful he was that that was the man he had been warned he’d have to get to know when they reconnected at the hospital.

Towards the end, making 5 years into their future, there’s a lot of information before his intent is revealed. Elliot’s medical files, studies on the likelihood of...something...and the pros and cons of working towards this step at the age they’d be.

“A...a family?”

“Yeah. I thought, deep down, that’s what you wanted with Joanna. Why you stayed.” They’d been over that again and again, not that it was difficult for Tyrell to admit that his first marriage was ‘toxic’ to put it mildly. He’d loved and wanted his son before he’d seen him with his own eyes. Only once. “Oh, babe, don’t-”

“I’m fine.” Tyrell says, rubbing his eyes, then sighing deeply. Honesty, that was at the top of the list for them. “Ok. I’m not. I’ll always regret that, but yes I can and definitely do want to have a family with you.”

“Good. We’re not getting any younger. And my body isn’t in the best shape but as you can see my doctors are optimistic. It may take a little work- hah, I can see you and I are thinking the same thing there.”

“Yes, absolutely. Now, before that actually happens what’s this about the company? It’s in ruins.”

“That’s not Ecorp, obviously, Tyrell.” Elliot is confident to the point of cocky when he easily flips back to the professional entries among his 5 year plan. There’s a colorful logo, the name changed by just one letter.”

“I almost forgot, your dream.”

“Our. Our dream. There has to be a reason why it was yours when I was there. Do the math, it’s easy. We’re supposed to do this together.”

“Then we will.” A knowing smile passes between them. When the other says anything is going to happen, it happens. “Now, we could start practicing for the last entry, since it will take some work.”

“Don’t worry, that’s covered.” The tone of Alderson’s voice teases, as if there’s more to this than even the gigantic binder of plans had revealed to him. And of course there was. They’d have practice.

The matter is delicate, and it would have been perfect for Leon to burst in with Irving (and anyone else he’d needed on the job) at that very moment. To close that unpleasantness for good, Elliot already had a name chosen for Tyrell’s stolen child. As reported to him recently, those people really had no business raising their daughter, let alone their grandson, and were dirtier than Tyrell Wellick had ever even wished he was. Elliot didn’t have to wish his boyfriend would appreciate this, or be on board with the name, he knew he would. He knew whatever became of the child’s grandparents wouldn’t matter to him. 

Soon they’d be one step closer to completing their goals. Elliot had never felt so good. He wonders if the other man had realized that the plans included some extra time ‘on vacation’ and just why they’d need it. They were going to start their family right, and do right by their kids. Their relationship and family were priority one. 

In a couple of days, if that old temper flared up at all (really a misdirection for Tyrell’s self-doubt; a facet of himself he had a hard time accepting before he began to improve on it) Elliot had a million ways to shut down his bullshit. Sometimes, that was exactly how he had to keep his other half moving; remind him his complaints were full of shit and came from a place where he’d sooner have pain than success. It was a little thing that should be obvious but you have to love a person to know the difference. 

In fairness, Wellick was damn good at covering that up, almost as good as Elliot but Elliot had the advantage of learning his own pitfalls through five different fractured voices that were for the most part trying to help. And they had, until he was really ready to be whole. 

So they’d work on eachother, and their friends and family, and then the world. Elliot had a fairly good idea how his partner would react to their family starting sooner than he’d laid out in the massive binder. 

“What am I missing, Elliot?” Knowing Tyrell knew him well enough to see these highly detailed plans for the next several years of their lives, and assume there could still be more, weirdly warmed his heart. Actually, fuck that. What was wrong with knowing each other? That was a good sign. Something to cheer about in his next therapy session. 

Sure, he’d had a moment of doubt himself. This was a huge ask for a pretty new relationship. Good thing he’d started out small. The remaining plans weren’t totally organized anyhow, and might need subtle edits after a few years. There was definitely an even larger binder (hopefully) ready to take on the 10 year version. “I got it covered.”

for @clairebearhq @nywythwndblws

[harinawa]

forsaken gods: pasinaya

I wrote brief interactions among characters to get a feel of their dynamic with each other and because the scenes wanted to be written despite not having any place in the actual novel. Barely did any editing, though, so... here ya go.

Kale + Miggy parenting Aya because like a true-natured potato she's not processing emotions like a Normal Human

                                                𝑷𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑨𝒀𝑨

                                               (tag.) lit. beginning

She doesn't cry at the burial. 

He knows because he's been watching. Everyone else who knew Leonora Varela-de Luna has tears streaking down their faces as her body was put in a cell. They can't even afford to bury her underground, so the burial took place in a public cemetery, where bodies are stacked in boxes on top of each other. Even after death, the poor still have to pay rent.

Tito Hernan hasn't stopped shaking in silent tears as he watched the sepulcher cover the cell with cement, a hand on Kale's trembling shoulders. Aya stands on their side, face blank as she watches her mother's body sealed from view. Miggy doesn’t know whether to admire or resent her strength; how is she holding herself together?

Like standard, he and his family had offered their condolences. Miggy hasn't talked to the de Luna twins much, not like before, when they were younger, when their world revolved in one-upping each other's team at patintero or giving the heaviest hit on ketchup. As they grew up, their friendship drifted. As his father's reputation in politics soared to new heights, so is his compulsion to pick out his relationships with standards. To his father, everything became a strategy. Even their family's life.

But Aunt Nora was like a second mother to him. Now that he thought about it, cutting ties with the de Lunas was a harsh thing to do, even if it was for his father's political career. 

When he first came, it was Kale who opened the door. Kale, who always looked small and sickly for his age, looked even more haunted, face grim with grief. His amber eyes still shined, though, bright even with the lack of sufficient light. "Yes?" 

"Hi," Miguel clears his throat. "I… I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm—" 

"Miggy? Of course I remember you," Kale shakes his head at him. "What can I do for you?" 

"Um. I… brought pizza?" 

Kale looks so much like his mother when one side of his lip draws to a frown and his eyebrows furrow, peeking at the pizza box he's holding. "Does it have lots of cheese?" 

"Four layers," he nods in affirmation. Kale doesn't say anything else but pulls the door wide open. Miggy puts his shoe to a side and steps into the living room on his socks. The place looks smaller than he remembers, but only probably because he'd been smaller when he was last here. 

They moved around their furniture and the walls are now a soft blue instead of the peeling white before. A few more pictures and certificates were added on the wall and trophies on the shelf near the television. It's an old model of television, still with an antenna, and he catches it playing the afternoon game show with blurred corners. He catches himself thinking of giving them the television in his bedroom—which he doesn't use at all, because he prefers using his computer.

The house obviously lacked one more person though. For this, he turns to Kale, who's cutting open the strings around the pizza box. "Where's your sister?" 

Kale snips the string and pulls it away. "Went to the market to buy dinner."

"But it's only past three."

"A lot of people stop at the market by five—there's almost no jeepney that isn't full by then, and Aya hates crowds. Besides, she has to cook when she returns, anyway."

Miggy sits down on the long couch while Kale goes to the kitchen to get them some glasses and a pitcher of water.

"It's been a while," Kale says when he returns, setting down the glass and pouring water for him. "Were you at the funeral?"

"Yes," Miggy nods. "But I was far away. Condolences, by the way."

Kale nods. There seems to be no proper response to people offering you condolences. Thank you for being sorry for me? I'm sorry about my loss too? Sometimes there are things better addressed with silence.

Miggy, for the lack of response, opens the pizza box and gestures for Kale to take one, which he obliges easily. The latter sits on the carpet opposite his, leaning on the legs of the single-seater couch with his knees together.

"How are," Miggy clears his throat, staring down at his pizza slice. "How is Tito Hernan holding up?"

"Could be better," Kale admits. "He doesn't leave his room these days, and when he does it's to drink with the neighbors. The University sent a letter the other day, officially terminating his position as professor. He finally became too much, even for them."

"You know my father's office is always looking for people like him," Miggy comments off-handedly. "I think they pay even more than the university."

"We'll suggest that to him but he probably would just ignore it," Kale shrugs. "He's been ignoring us a lot these days too. It's… it might be too much on Aya."

"Yeah?"

"She hasn't cried since Mom died," Kale swallows, turning the half-eaten pizza in his hands. "I know I don't want her to be sad, you know, but… she didn't cry at all. That's not normal, right?"

"Maybe she cried on her own?" That's possible. Miggy's all too familiar with that. Staying in the mansion, often all on his own, was too fucking lonely. He's had a lot of alone time.

"I hope so," Kale sighs. "I would've liked it better if she cried. She shouldn't deal with this on her own. If she keeps being silent like this…"

Kale just clicked his tongue, shaking his head. When they were kids, Kale often boasted about how he was the older twin by so and so minutes. Aya always reasoned that she was older because she was the one who held Kale up as his hold on their mother was weak, making the pregnancy delicate. Miggy, as an only child, was often envious of the bond they shared with each other.

"We have to be strong for her," Miggy bites into the pizza and chews. "Knowing Aya, she'd hate to be treated like we're tiptoeing around her."

"She would," Kale agrees, but then pauses, looking up at Miggy with a frown. He even inches closer, peering up at him with such huge eyes that Miggy blushes in embarrassment. "What?"

"We. You said ‘we’," he places the pizza crust on the inside cover of the box. "You're not leaving again?"

"Well," Miggy shifts, uncomfortable. "I still have to get home and stuff. But well… I can still stay around. If you'll have me."

He doesn't want to attempt to explain why he suddenly didn't talk to them anymore, or why he suddenly wasn't their friend anymore. Anything he says will sound like a crappy excuse.

Kale stares at him for a long time that Miggy feels slightly unnerved in his seat. The twins' eyes are too peculiar for people who live an average life; something about their golden shade makes the hairs on his arms rise.

But that's the thing about the de Lunas that not everyone knows about. They do not ask you for reasons; they just understand.

The corner of Kale's lips lift. "Alright." //end

[makeste]

BnHA Bonus Rant #4: Bakumom

Okay guys. This is my post about Bakugou Mitsuki. This is actually my third attempt at trying to write a post on this topic; I tried to do one back when I was getting ready to post the recap for chapter 96, but wasn’t able to coherently get across all of the thoughts I wanted to convey, so I ended up deleting it. Then in response to one of the comments on that recap, I ended up writing another post, and this time I managed to get out almost 1200 words on the subject! But during the editing process, I realized that it just wasn’t something I had the energy to discuss. The topic of “is this character abusive” is obviously a very sensitive one, and something that a lot of people have very strong feelings about, and I realized that my post wasn’t going to convince anyone one way or the other, and that it was more likely to lead to a discussion that I had absolutely no spoons for. Like, all my spoons went into the post itself, and that was it. So in the end I scrapped that too (and my apologies to @temperatezone, who made a very reasonable point very tactfully, which I basically ended up just ignoring because at the time I wasn’t ready to get into it).

Before we start -- regarding spoilers, I’ve done my best to keep this post spoiler-free so long as you are caught up with the anime (or have read up to the manga equivalent, which is around chapter 125 or thereabouts). There is, however, one manga spoiler in here from chapter 165 (which, if you’ve read the chapter, you’ll know why it was unavoidable, seeing as it pertains directly to the subject at hand). It is not in any way a plot spoiler; it’s basically a single line from one of the characters, and the details regarding where and when that line is said are irrelevant, so I’ve left that out. So if you are anime-only, it’s up to you whether you want to skip this post or not, but that will be the only spoiler in here.

So now that I’m on my third attempt, I’ve done a bit more thinking on how I want to approach this. Basically, I think the problem I kept running up against before is that as far as I can see, there are two ways to look at this. The first is by looking at the author’s intent. “Okay, the scene is clearly presented in the context of humor and is a classic example of the well-established Tough Love style of anime parenting (see also: Izumi from FMA, Reborn from KHR, Isshin from Bleach, etc.) and not meant to be taken in an overly deep way. The scene immediately afterward with her ruffling Katsuki’s hair and thanking Aizawa for his understanding and mentioning her worry and relief during and after the kidnapping and asking his teachers to help guide him is meant to serve as a contrast to the violence and shouting and insults to show that contrary to that initial impression, she loves and cares about him just like any other mother. The scene is meant as a lighthearted way of showing where Bakugou inherited his loud and angry temperament from, and kind of jokingly implying that he’s more or less just a clone of his mom.”

Whereas the other approach is to look at what the author is actually portraying. “It doesn’t matter if it was intended to be a joke or not; she is abusive. She smacks him repeatedly for basically no reason, and screams at him and insults him to this degree even when there are other people present. Perhaps more disturbingly, she implies that him being kidnapped was his own fault, because he was ‘weak.’ Later on we learn that he genuinely believes this and has internalized it, and blames himself not only for getting kidnapped, but for what it led to with All Might losing his powers as a consequence. Even further down the line, Bakugou makes a throwaway remark to the effect of ‘[violence is] how I was raised.’ This implies that it wasn’t just a one-time thing and that his mother is like this all the time, to the point where violence is basically the norm for him and he doesn’t even realize how fucked up it is.”

So those are basically the two perspectives here. And for me, I realized that the problem that I had was that both of these perspectives are valid. At least I think they are. If I were to try to argue the former -- which was my first instinct -- I would in all likelihood have to try and refute the latter. And honestly, I don’t think I would be able to do that, because that argument is a completely valid argument. Not to mention I don’t have much of a leg to stand on as far as trying to argue that Horikoshi’s intentions matter more than his end results, because if you’ve read any of my recaps, you know that this is basically the one and only time I’ve ever said that, lol. I’ve never particularly cared about his harmless intentions when it comes to Mineta, or overly sexualized teenage girls, or Ochako being comically poor, or any of the other topics I’ve occasionally bitched about. So it seems a bit hypocritical for me to suddenly start arguing that now.

So I won’t. Instead, I’m going to go ahead and acknowledge that it’s a valid interpretation. Regardless of what Horikoshi was going for, if you’re looking solely at the end result, then yeah. What he showed us can definitely be taken as abuse. I don’t think it’s an overreaction, and there is a lot to back it up.

That being acknowledged, what I’m going to talk about instead is why I have such a strong desire in this case to ignore the clumsy way the relationship is presented in canon, and to instead view the relationship the way I believe it’s intended to come across. Why do I so badly want for Bakugou to have a (more or less) healthy relationship with his parents? Why does the idea of him having a bad home life leave such a bad taste in my mouth?

And I think this is what it is: one of the key things that draws me to Bakugou’s character is that he doesn’t have A Tragic Past. There’s this tendency in shounen manga to give virtually every important character a sad backstory (looking at you in particular, Naruto and One Piece), with the level of tragedy gradually escalating as the series goes on, until you get to a point where the fandom is literally having debates over whose past is the most tragic. And this has kind of indirectly given rise to several beliefs that I often see articulated and/or implied in fandom:

That there must always be some observable external reason for a character’s personality and temperament, rather than that just being who they are.

That there is a direct correlation between the severity of a character’s past and the validity of that character’s actions. In other words, the person with the more tragic backstory has the moral upper hand in any dispute, simply because they’ve been through more bad shit.

That a character’s potential for redemption is directly tied to how sad their backstory is.

I see this all the time, and not just in shounen fandom for that matter. The basic idea seems to be that if bad things have happened to a character in the past, then it means any bad things they themselves have done are not their fault, and they should be forgiven and given a second chance. The thing is, I’ve always disliked this way of thinking, because to me it strays from what I think is the most crucial element of any redemption arc: taking responsibility. 

Redemption, to me, shouldn’t simply be about whether we feel sorry for the character, or whether they have suffered enough and been punished enough for whatever it is they did, or even whether or not they had a good reason for it. To me, it’s about one thing and one thing only: is the character trying to be better. Do they want to change? Are they making the same mistakes over and over, or are they actually learning and trying to grow? 

To me, redemption is an active process. It’s something the character has to seek out themselves. It’s not something that’s granted to them (key difference here between “redemption” and “forgiveness”), nor does it matter whether or not anyone else thinks they deserve it. For me, at least, it’s simply a matter of whether or not the character is willing to take responsibility for their mistakes, and whether they actually take action toward becoming better.

That being said, this is the main problem I have with the “Mitsuki is abusive” line of thinking: from what I have observed (and not always, mind you, but often enough), this headcanon tends to overlap with the idea that Bakugou’s violent behavior is not his fault, and that he’s only like that because of the way he was raised. In some cases I’ve seen it taken even further than that, with basically Bakugou’s entire backstory basically being rewritten to make him out as just a poor traumatized kid who would never have abused Izuku if it wasn’t for Mitsuki’s abuse, and so the blame actually falls on her and not him. And that, right there, is probably the biggest problem I have with this. That shifting of the blame. Making it so that Bakugou is absolved of responsibility for his own shitty actions, because it turns out that he was just a victim too. 

And actually, it’s even more than that: it’s also the implied suggestion that this is the only way he can be redeemed. That he only qualifies for redemption if he had a good reason for his actions. That we can only feel sorry for him if he’s not to blame for the mistakes that he made, and if it Wasn’t His Fault.

And damn it, but I just take so much issue with this. Because to me, ironically enough, this narrative robs Bakugou of the agency that I personally believe is key to him getting the redemption arc he actually deserves. Does that make sense? Basically, I want Bakugou’s mistakes to be acknowledged as his own mistakes. Because they are. I want him to be able to take ownership of them and to realize what he did wrong. I want him to learn from those mistakes and to grow as a person because of them. I don’t want it to be all “oh sweetie it’s okay, it’s not your fault.” I want it to be “oh fuck, I really screwed up, and I hate the way I feel now because of it, and I never want to feel this way again, so I’m going to do better.” 

Because that’s the only way that real change actually happens. When it comes from within, from the character’s own desire to change. I don’t want a “he was never really bad, just misunderstood” narrative; I want “he fucked up, but he is learning from it, and he is growing.” That’s what I want.

So that, I think, is why the whole thing bothers me so much, and why I just can’t get behind the idea. Again, I won’t deny that the evidence is there. I just choose to interpret it another way. And it is just that: a choice. It’s a conscious choice to read between the lines and to add my own headcanons where necessary and insert little justifications and explanations for things when needed. 

Because to me, Bakugou having grown up in a supportive -- if chaotic -- household is important. It’s important because it shows that even people who grew up in healthy environments with no obvious trauma can fuck up regardless. And those people are still worthy of redemption.

I hope that all makes sense. (Particularly since if it doesn’t, I've just gone and pissed a whole bunch of people off, probably.) Anyways. So with all that being said, I’ll wrap this up with a list of my own personal headcanons about Mitsuki’s and Katsuki’s relationship.

First and foremost, if any of you have ever seen Malcolm in the Middle, I can very easily sum this all up by just saying that Mitsuki = Lois and Katsuki = Malcolm, Francis, and Reese all rolled up into one. That’s it. That’s the dynamic, right there.

But if you haven’t seen MitM, basically what I’m saying is that Katsuki is a precocious little brat who’s headstrong and rebellious and extremely independent and prone to only learning things the hard way, and Mitsuki is the stern and stubborn mom who is still caring and loving but also overbearing and aggressive. The two of them are always butting heads because they’re both extremely prideful and view themselves as always being right, and because Mitsuki’s overbearing tendencies clash directly with Katsuki’s independent streak.

Mitsuki actually is right more often than she’s not, which only fuels her own stubbornness as well at Katsuki’s teenage resentment towards her. She spent a lot of time when he was younger just trying to keep him from setting the house (and himself) on fire, and because he hardly ever listens, the two of them end up getting into a lot of screaming matches with each other, and nowadays that’s just kind of their dynamic and they’re just used to it.

She doesn’t actually think he’s weak, and she only said that because she knows that’s one of the few insults that rankles him enough to actually make him listen, and she was trying to get him to hush up and be respectful to his teachers, who were guests in their home and also his teachers, one of whom just saved his life and the other of whom defended his honor in a nationally broadcast press conference. And also this was part of the whole Japanese culture of being overly humble, and since she knew he was never gonna do it, she was kind of doing it for him. You know, like “thank you so much for saving me, I apologize for inconveniencing you.” Even though it wasn’t actually his fault.

He didn’t internalize the guilt about All Might because of what she said. I honestly think he barely even processed what she said because they’re always just yelling bullshit insults at each other that don’t actually really mean anything. He’s always been terrified of being weak precisely because he never has been. It’s the unknown. He wouldn’t know what to do if he wasn’t strong. It’s a fear he’s always had, and one that had been secretly growing stronger since he first started at U.A. What happened to All Might simply exacerbated that fear. It was already there, and he’d just kept it hidden for a very long time. His mom didn’t put the idea into his head, and never would have said it if she had even the slightest inkling that her cocky, arrogant, loudmouthed, forceful son was secretly harboring insecurities about that very thing.

Any violence in their household is the comedic shounen type of violence where no one is actually hurt in any way. But mostly it’s just loud.

They are so used to this being Just The Way Things Are that ironically, Katsuki would have been much more unsettled if, after he returned home following the kidnapping, his mom had been tender and affectionate. Mitsuki, being a smart mom, picked up on this, so in an effort to make him less uncomfortable, she took deliberate care to behave The Same As Always around him so that he could feel more normal. In fact she was actually still very freaked out herself for days afterward, much more so than she let on (because she’s just as bad at showing vulnerability as he is).

It actually helped. He will never ever acknowledge this out loud, but he realized what she was doing, and he’s grateful.

And I could go on and on, but I think this more or less summarizes how I view the two of them. They basically have their own language by this point, where phrases like “fuck you too” mean “I love you”, and so forth. She loves him to death and worries about him constantly and is so, so proud of him. He loves her too and she doesn’t piss him off nearly as much as he pretends, and he would be devastated beyond words if anything were to ever happen to her. He actually thinks she’s the strongest person he knows, maybe even tougher than All Might, and he would never, ever say this out loud.

Sooo... yeah. I’m trying to think of a good way to end this post now, but I can’t think of anything lol. I think I’ve said everything I wanted to. Tl;dr, I’ve made a conscious decision to view Mitsuki as a highly combative but loving parent to her troublesome tsundere son because I want Katsuki to man up and take responsibility for his own shit, because I love him. The end.

[tiaragqueen]

In His Sights

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Jung Hoseok x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,8k

✂ Trigger Warning: Violence, obsessive tendencies, possessive behaviors, yandere theme.

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don't believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“And I like the way you hurt inside; always waiting for the worst to get me by. And I like the way you hurt. After all you’ve done, look what I’ve become.” - Hurt [Get Scared]

           Jung Hoseok was a cheerful man.

          There wasn’t any day passed when he wasn’t smiling, or screaming in pure excitement. Sure, there were moments where he acted all mischievous and the like, but most of the time he was joyful.

          Almost as if he had no worries.

          This trait was what attracted you to him in the first place. Not only that, but he was also optimistic. He lent you a shoulder to cry on, giving you a piece of wise advice and listened to your problems without any judgments. At the end of your ranting and cries, he always cracked a joke or pull some harmless pranks on to your other friends. Anything to make sure you didn't go to sleep sad.

           He was so caring. The perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.

           Of course, that doesn’t mean he never experienced anger. He had, though, just like any other humans in this world. But it was rare, and the probability was small either. His friends could count on with one hand the times where he was truly mad, or at least, the small signs. Because despite his expressive nature, he possessed enormous self-control. The reason had to be very painful; severe enough to actually ignite his ire.

          And an angry Hoseok was an intimidating Hoseok.

         You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to erase the gory image from your brain. But it was a pointless attempt because how could you forget something that happened right in front of your eyes? And the fact that the culprit was none other than your lover himself, Jung Hoseok, made it all the more indelible.

          You had never expected your sweet, ‘sunshine’ of a man to be capable of such violent act. The man that claimed to be hope; your hope.

          Little did he know that your hope had long gone down the drain the moment he took a whip from the closet.

          Then again, love blinds people from any logic. Even the most affectionate ones.

          You had been bounded in this chair for God knows how long. Your muscles were stiff, and the rope chafed your sensitive skin. It might be bleeding, who knows. But you knew that it was nothing compared to what your brother suffered right now.

          Hoseok cracked his whip against your brother’s raw back. Another scream followed shortly; a heartrending wail that pierced through the night sky. You winced, a waterfall of tears streamed down your flushing cheeks. No matter how many times you’d heard it, you could never get used to that grievous sound. Nor could you bring yourself to stop crying when your brother was laying on his stomach – chained in the bed you shared with Hoseok – bare-chested and full of injuries.

          It all happened too fast; one minute you were heading to the kitchen to prepare some food for him, and the next you woke up in your dark room with a terrible headache.

          Hoseok put down the whip at last – you'd lost count on how many times he used that on to your dear sibling – and slowly turned to face you. You squirmed in your seat, trying to free yourself but to no avail. Hoseok was advancing towards you, and you had never begged him to leave you alone so loud in your life. His stride was slow and deliberate; meant to intimidate you and consume your entire being with an unadulterated fear.

          And he succeeded. Of course, he did. You had never seen this side before, and now you wished you could rewind the time.

          The tremor in your body was palpable, bringing forth cold sweats that poured from the pores. They trickled down to his palm that settled itself under your chin, dragging your face close to his. His minty breath – something that you used to love – felt like a freezing wind during winter. It brushed against your wet cheeks as if wanting to freeze the tears midway.

          He was close. Too close. You felt almost claustrophobic with the proximity. It was like being stuck in an elevator - with your enemy - for hours. Except you didn't know how long you'd been staying here. All you knew was that it was night, and Hoseok still wearing his work clothes. A red checkered shirt with its buttons opened, revealing his dark tank top underneath, black pants, and white snickers. It was an outfit that you had chosen yourself because he could be clingy and wanted to know your preferences in male clothing.

          Even though he already knew it, unbeknownst to you.

          “Who do you love the most?”

          Ah, there it was. The dreaded question. The first yet portentous inquiry he’d spoken after hours of intense torture and unremitting pain.

          It was unfair how he could easily ask that without thinking about the dilemma that weighted your mind. You loved Hoseok – you truly did – but he had become such an overwhelming figure in your life. Always hovering over you whilst shooting a cautious look to your friends as if they would steal you away from him. You had reassured him countless times before, that you were loyal to him and would never leave him for anyone. But Hoseok still retained his wary and overprotective traits because deep inside, he feared that you would change your mind and choose somebody else instead.

          Women are fickle creatures, after all. And it’s only natural for a man to protect his mate.

          “I...”

          What would you say? It’s not like you could choose who to love between a sibling or a lover. Both of them were kind to you, instilling warmth and love into your otherwise dull life. There was no bad blood; no family feud like those in dramas. They were supportive of your relationship with Hoseok, naively believing the mask of a doting and devoted boyfriend. And you, too, had fallen victim to it.

          The cliché quote said ‘nobody’s perfect’. And yet, you were still beguiled by that so-called perfection.

          But why? Why did he do this to him, to you? What could he possibly gain from this? Some kind of sick amusement? Satisfaction? Validation?

          “Why...? Why are you doing this?” you sobbed, peering up through your wet lashes to look at his unusually hollow eyes. It scared you because they used to glitter with mirth. And now, it almost seemed as if you were looking to a doll. “Answer me, goddammit-!”

          A hand clasped your mouth, preventing you from fully expressing your desperation and curses. You wanted to bite his palm for rudely cutting you off, but the fear of punishment forced you to stay put. Hoseok leaned forward, almost closing the suffocating space between the two of you. It could’ve been romantic had he didn’t look so cold yet empty.

          “You want to know why?”

          His voice was eerily calm despite the mocking tone. It terrified you; to see him act so cool because you couldn’t predict when and how he would lose his temper. You used to have this naïve thought that he might be one of those ‘violent and rampaging’ type, and while the former could be proved as accurate, the latter was clearly debatable.

          With his hand still attached to your mouth, you merely nodded in response.

          “It’s because you want to leave me.”

          Your eyes widened, both from shock and rage. How dare he accused you of something you hadn’t done. Hoseok might not be what you had thought about, but you never planned on leaving him. Unless-

          “You think I’m accusing you.” It was scary how he knew you so well until he could correctly predict what you were thinking about. You supposed that you should be flattered with the fact that he had taken the time to understand you – your flaws and all – but this just proved to you of how deep his love was.

          How long he had been watching you without your knowledge.

          “I’m right, aren’t I?” He narrowed his eyes, and you suddenly felt very small. Like a frightened deer in front of a fierce yet calculating cheetah because he could – and would – chase you to the end of the earth if necessary. “You have been meeting with your brother under the excuse of meeting your old friend. Oh, what was their name again? Seojoon?”

          You gulped silently.

          “There has never been a friend named Seojoon in your life, but I applaud you for your intricate lie in coming up with their background. Very believable, indeed. I almost fell for it.” He huffed out a derisive chuckle. “But you see, you can only keep up a lie for so long until it comes back to bite at you. And you have been found guilty.”

          He continued, “I’m not stupid enough to let you go outside without my supervision, [Name]. Especially when you met the one person that should be the most supportive of us.”

          Of course. Of course. How could you think that for one fucking second, you were free? That you could finally do anything and meet anyone you want? No, because the moment you accepted his confession, was when you gave him the reign to own you. To possess you as if you were some kind of a doll. A puppet to be controlled.

          How fucking stupid could you be, [Name]?!

          “But, no. Instead, he backstabbed me – us – by spouting out nonsense about how I’m not good enough for you and that I’m too possessive. Bullshit!” You flinched when he suddenly slammed his other hand against the table. “Your brother’s a fucking hypocrite, [Name]! How can you be so blind?! He’s trying to ruin our relationship!”

          Hoseok finally released his palm before he could risk suffocating you any further and paced around the room in frustration. “And I can’t let that happen. No, no, no. I won’t.” He dashed towards you with surprising speed and grabbed your face. “You belong to me, remember? Forever and ever. We’re gonna marry someday and then we move out to another country or something. Far away from here, because this place’s not safe anymore.”

          A manic smile slowly contorted his face when he noticed your trembling body. “Aw, why are you shaking? Are you scared?” he cooed, and you didn’t know whether he was taunting you or not. All you cared about was how you could burn this memory forever. “Don't worry, I’ll never hurt my darling. These are just the proofs of my love. ‘Cause we can’t have anyone to destroy something that we’ve built for so long, can we?”

          Another tear slipped from your eyelids at the implication. Hoseok wiped them away with a stroke and smiled softly. You sobbed harder, chest constricted at the bitter nostalgia. The sight in front of you reminded you so much of his usual behavior.

          The times where you were blissfully oblivious to his violent side. The times where he took you out on a spontaneous date and whisper some cheesy things reserved for your ears only. The times where he wasn't so crazy with you. Maybe he had, though. You just didn't know it. Yet. But you did now.

          Where did all those beautiful memories go?

          “I love you, [Name].”

[phytolacca-a]

Writeup: First Non-PGM Spell Performed- Third or Fourth Spell Ever. 11/27/19

At the time of writing this I’ve just done a nine-knot spell written in the latter half of the Call of the Horned Piper. It seemed like one I could try out. This will be a long post. This is written directly after working- this post will be edited and added onto once I feel that either it had effects, flopped, or somewhere in between. This will be marked with “EDIT:”

EDIT: didn’t work (which is fine.) I’ve tried to divine on why and what to do better, although I don’t fully understand the “why” I got. If anyone would like to give their input on the “why” or try help me out in understanding it, it’s welcomed. Readings will be at the end.

Nine-Knot Spell, Intended for Good Business and Finance Influx

I saw mentions of business for what to utilize under Mercury and figured, since it’s a Wednesday when I want to try this out (and was told via divination to go ahead and try “tonight”- I did this at like 3am and ended maybe just before 4am so it’s Wednesday.)

Prep: I showered beforehand (although it took me a little while after to begin this spell. The book said to use a deep blue thread on Wednesday, and when looking up colors corresponding to Mercury I saw white. Since the only thread I have is much too thin for my preference of this I combined 2 white threads and 2 blue threads to both thicken what I was working with and utilize a number I saw associated with Mercury (4.) I asked one of my object-spirits to help me with this and strengthen the spell. I lit a candle and tried to get in the “working headspace” to do the spell so I stared into the candle for a while (trying to kinda meditate, but as I’ve said before I’m horrible at it.) Maybe 10 minutes? I can’t tell. 

Procedure: I then began to knot the threads. The book tells you to try to focus intently on what you want out of the spell while making it so as I formed the knots slowly I tried to run through and focus on what I wanted (again, business related, and also to land a job) and I allotted time with mixes of “immediately, immediately, (immediately), as soon as possible, as soon as possible, (as soon as possible.)

Each knot was pulled/made as I said the corresponding phrases given in the book:

“One to start the spell upon, Two to pull the magic through, Three to rouse it mightily, Four for power strong and sure, Five to bring the spell alive, Six the magic might to fix, Seven for the secret leaven, Eight to turn the web of fate, Nine the hidden spell I bind!”

At the end of the tying I felt compelled to clap 9 times (in intervals of 3.) Don’t know if it did anything other than make me feel as if it concluded properly.

I wrapped the thread around my wrist (as it says to wear on person if the spell was intended for you.)

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

Immediate thoughts on what I could’ve done better: 

Although I tried to start out in a better headspace to do this, I was still very anxious and that nervousness and anxiety did persist through the working.

I’m not sure how much the object spirit I chose out of the two that felt like they wanted to help could actually help, since I have no idea what abilities they actually have and if they can directly help me. I did say that if he helped me I would refill my givings to them tomorrow so I will. 

Right when I began to pick up the thread and tie it the object (with the spirit)’s head fell from being propped up against the wall and startled me pretty hard. I think it might’ve grounded whatever I had done with the candle (not sure if good or bad?) Will divine on later.

The book calls for the knots to be... regularly spaced. I, unfortunately, didn’t realize how bad I am at tying knots with the same spacing until I did this. The thinness of the thread(s) did Not do me any favors... and neither did my super long nails. 4 knots ended up directly back to back (2 each) and the rest were unevenly spaced (albeit better than the first 4.) We’ll see how much affect this has.

I feel I could’ve done more... Coming to mind is to directly call on the planet Mercury (something Maybe like “Mercury, I call to you on your day to assist me in my endeavors under you.”) and maybe done something with the planet sign? I cannot burn incense in my current situation so unfortunately that isn’t an option right now.

Speaking of my room, I think I REALLY need to cleanse it properly. The last time I did so was 2 years ago almost exactly. I need to cleanse it and try to ward it from things I don’t want in here.

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

EDIT: Here I will attempt to write out my readings I got via cards. This deck is supposed to be mainly used via intuition & visual clues, though there is a list of interpreted meanings added on later. I try to mainly interpret Without the list, but when I’m really stumped I cave in and see if they make sense contextually. I think now that this is how I read, the cards seem to do a mixed bag of intuitive & listed.

“Tell me exactly why my nine-knot spell didn’t work”

Well, I’m having a really hard time trying to figure out what this means. An interesting thing I notice after writing down what I can interpret is that this is much more of a chaptered reading than I initially thought. The Omen through Divining seem to = Prepwork. Consciousness through Earth = Right as I started and throughout it. The Dragonfly = The tying of the knots. At least The Soul = the ending & after, and I think Visitation might have been a misdraw.

I asked if I am supposed to take the moon phases literally or not (i.e. when I should’ve done the spell vs. their spiritual meanings) and got Not.

Here is the closest I can get to interpreting this:

The Omen & The Spider- I had too little assistance didn’t have a clear plan on what all I should do. (Based on guide)

Duality- Well, if his was more based in the guide, maybe something about..... black and white thinking? If this was based upon the feeling of the imagery in context, this could be that I was too unfocused; too scattered.

Death- In the next reading, the Death card felt like a higher spirit. Not sure if its meaning is the same in this context, but if so, this could mean I had not called on a higher spirit.

The Heart, Waxing Gibbous, Magick, Waxing Crescent- I think this is about my anxiety and not feeling deeply enough or bringing up intense enough feelings about what I was saying and wanting it to do. I think the Magick card being encapsulated by both Waxing Gibbous and Waxing Crescent mean that^ and that there was not enough energy being raised and used while doing the spell.

The Crystal, Divining- The given suggested meanings correspond nicely together, though I’m not sure on the clear message it’s giving.. The Crystal says “hidden treasure, the core issue, synthesis.” Divining says “a search, finding a hidden source, latent information, need to dig beneath the surface.” These together might indicate I could’ve divined more either before or maybe during it but didn’t..? There might’ve been important information I wasn’t aware of.

Consciousness, The Obelisk, Earth- I think this might be talking about how I might’ve been too grounded during the whole thing. Again, pointing back to the lack of raised energy?

The Dragonfly- I think this is talking about me fucking up the spacing of the knots.

Visitation, The Soul- I... really don’t understand, at least not Visitation. The Soul might have to do with my immediate feeling afterwards that it wouldn’t work and my immediate theorizing on what I could’ve done better. (Something of note is that I think Visitation is the card I pulled and felt “maybe that shouldn’t have been added” but did anyway. It may be a misdraw.)

“How should I do better the next time I do a nine-knot spell?”

Honestly I think this one is much more understandable. This, I’m pretty sure says:

The Hive- Utilize and employ your spirits better. (The Hive seems to be signifier to the little uh... “community”? I have.) 

Death- Utilize/Ask/Call to a higher power/spirit. (Feelings based off of the imagery)

The Obelisk- Get some sort of (better) energy source. <- This one I used the “meanings” list and used the one that felt right.

Waxing Gibbous- Cleanse! Do more cleansing of your space/things/yourself.

Telepathy- I think this means to work on my psychic skills, focus, mindwork, etc.

Conclusion: It didn’t work, but it seemed to be a very good learning experience. I’ll have to read back on this the next time I try this. -I’m assuming I might’ve been right that I could’ve called on Mercury to assist me, or maybe a mercury-corresponded deity to assist me? This would then be coupled with some sort of offering that isn’t incense which I’ll have to think on. -I was right I need to cleanse my room. -I also am thinking that maybe I should somehow do this magic (and probably other spells) in front of where my spirits are (which is sort of problematic but I’m sure doable.)

[snkpolls]

SnK Chapter 117 Poll Results

The chapter poll closed with 1325  responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

RATE THE CHAPTER 1,235 responses

Isayama continues to please. In fact, “Judgment” is the highest rated chapter this year with 62.3% selecting the highest possible rating. In recent month, only chapter 112 scored higher.

Honestly, just incredible

Excellent Chapter although it did favor the action over plot continuation. I really just want information rather than awesome action. I'll just have to do my waiting but the action is very enjoyable.

Finally a great action chapter which does a good job showcasing Erens new abilities.

Fuck yeah, Shiganshina3.0 with an entirely new field of play. Excited to see how the new teams play out.

It was nice to have another action-heavy chapter after being without one for so long. The only downside is they feel way too short.

god I love this manga so damn much

Seeing Marley invade Paradis with those planes is absolutely chilling. It's a whole new era for the Walldians

We're in the Endgame now

GIVE ME NEXT CHAPTER

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT? 1,292 responses

With 30% of the vote, the moment when Eren reacts to Reiner’s attempt to eat him takes the top place for favorite moment. Following up with half as many votes is Zeke’s arrival as he displays his big brother complex. In third came Eren’s defensive use of the Warhammer Titan’s power.

The most memorable moment was definitely Eren's scream of sheer determination and will to live as he was ripping Reiner's jaw apart, in a complete rejection of the self-loathing and fatalistic mindset his old nemesis was seemingly trying to push onto him.

It was nice to see eren harnessing his titan abilities and proving that he is a strong character

Eren ripping half of Reiner’s face off was neat

Reiner vs Eren was very repetitive and shonen typical and just there to show how 'badass' Eren had become. Besides, the Marleyans are getting too much screentime at this point. The only cool thing was Zeke's entrance.

I loved the fight and zeke's onii-chan part uwu

I thought it was neat that it was confirmed that the Shifters' Titans have brains that control the Titan, rather than the Shifter controlling it themselves. I still want to know more about the Titan Chemistry Research Department, and all of the in-universe info about how Shifters interface with their Titans.

Onii-chan saves the day.

When Pieck took Gabi in her mouth? 👌👏 And that cannon?? 😍😍😍😍 And when she finished putting on the cannon and stood up in all her majesty I just straight up died. I also loved seeing Eren use the War Hammer to make back spikes, that was so neat.

WHO WAS THIS CHAPTER’S MVP? 1,288 responses

With lots of characters joining the fight this chapter, who was the MVP? The overwhelming majority at 62% think Eren fighting off three titans on his own earned him the title.  Pieck was also a popular choice, at 16%.  Magath rounded out the top three at 8.9%

EREN MVP WON ALONE AGAINST 3 TITANS

Magath is a great leader. We need to see more of him.

I was so happy to see Zeke! And that phrase, ahh!

Hugs for Reiner. Poor guy can never win a fight :( And love Pieck for being the MVP, as usual!

porco did nothing wrong shout out to my boy porco

Eren is collecting Titans like they're limited edition Pokemon cards

It's time to stop confusing Gabi with Eren. Gabi proved to be actually smart.

Magath is the MVP of this chapter and anyone who says otherwise is delusional.

My wife Pieck was very cute and smug.

Zeke's arrival was so sick. Oni-chan

Not gonna lie this chapter was fire af. Kinda surprised about Magath being a legend, but it may have been a mistake for him to not kill Eren.

Zeke showing up at the end was hype.

PIECK AND PORKY ARE THE BEST.

the mvp award should go to the jeagerists for getting themselves killed in the stupidest way ever

WHICH JAIL CELL EXPRESSION WAS THE CUTEST? 1,290 responses

Our quick glance at the 104th was enough to know they are alive and well for now. We wanted a fun way to ask about their stunned expressions at the noises they assumed to be the rumbling. Mikasa’s was declared cutest with 27.4%, Armin was second with 23.1%, and 16.9% didn’t want to play along.

"Which jail cell expression was the cutest?"What?

GET MY FUCKIN SONS ARMIN AND MIKASA OUT OF THE FREAKING JAIL THAT SHIT JAEGERISTS PUT THEM.

I hope Onyankopon will rescue everyone in jail.

Just get Falco and the prisoners out of there, they'll get titanized/crushed

WHICH EREN VS. REINER FIGHT HAS BEEN YOUR FAVORITE SO FAR? 1,288 responses

Reiner and Eren’s practice fight in training has served useful, as they’ve fought as titans no less than four times now.  36.9% selected the fight from last chapter as their favorite bout, with 26.9% choosing their first rumble.  23.4% loved the recently animated Shiganshina fight the most, and only 12.8% chose the brief Marley exchange of blows.

Anime-onlies and manga readers collectively screaming about Eren vs Reiner in Shiganshina... You've got to wonder if this was planned somehow.

Eren vs. Reiner identical non-productive fights are getting boring.

I Want More Eren Vs Other Shifters

Reiner VS. Eren 4.0 is now a thing ladies and gents. But we now have a new fighter which is big bro Jaeger.

Eren vs. Reiner in a fearsome battle in the middle of Shinganshina that culminates in Reiner seemingly gaining the upper hand before his head is blown off by an outside force. Am I talking about the most recent manga chapter, or the most recent anime episode? You decide ;)

It's about time Eren's and Reiner's fight ends. Give us a conclusion, Isayama

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT REINER ORCHESTRATING ANOTHER ATTACK ON SHIGANSHINA? 1,288 responses

Although about 50% of respondents thought it was at least somewhat understandable that Reiner brought the fight to Shiganshina again, a good chunk of votes trended toward pretty neutral or unsure about whether Reiner is a hypocrite or not.

He sincerely believes Eren is miserable BECAUSE he's projecting his own emotions onto Eren but also needs to consume the Founder as Magath mentioned

He wants to do something right because the only thing hes good at is getting his ass whooped.

Honestly, all I can say about Reiner is that his isna big hypocrite.

Reiner should win a battle in his life, please Isayama.

He's definitely projecting, but lowkey if he eats Eren he finally gets to die, because they'll give the Founder to another Warrior.

People should really stop assuming that just because Reiner & Co. are deserving  of sympathy, they are right. Downtrodden as they are, if they win they'll still destroy Paradis without a second thought, and all the blatherings about stopping the 100 years cycle of violence, are just that, and justifications after the fact.

I thoguht Reiner would kick Eren's ass but whatever

Reiner should really give up fighting Eren... he always loses. Unless he likes getting his arse kicked, I don’t know why everyone just lets them fight over and over again.

REINER DON'T GO DOWN THE PATH OF ZEKE PLEASE

WHY DO YOU THINK EREN CHOSE TO FIGHT, RATHER THAN LISTEN TO YELENA AND GET AWAY? 1,285 responses

Yelena wanted Eren to run, Eren wanted to fight.  But why?  38.4% think he’s trying to protect those in the building, 25.8% think he believes running to be pointless, and 16.8% thought he just wanted to fight his best sparring partner, Reiner, once again.

"Until my enemies are destroyed," remember?

All of the above

He doesn't care what she thinks. Eren will do what Eren wants

He feels confident enough in his ability to shut that shit down by himself. He's also visibly pissed at Reiner for messing up with his plans by pushing for this surprise attack and wants to end him personally.

He's fought him three times already, might as well just fight him a fourth time.

I think it's both that it's pointless to run and he wants to protect those in the building. For the former, he knows Marley will just keep on persisting and will do everything they can to find him, so escaping is pointless. As for the latter, he cares about his close friends that are still inside and thus doesn't want them to get hurt, so for their safety, he wants to be the one to take on Marley by himself.

If you don't fight, you don't win.

I think this chapter proved that Yelena wasn't the one who "manipulated" Eren like some people claimed first, because he refused her order and choose to fight instead of "run away" or "trusting her plan".

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT GABI REVEALING THE ROYAL ZEKERET™ TO MAGATH? 1,289 responses

The Marleyan forces have finally zeroed in on what the true Zekerets are, all thanks to Gabi.  52.2% of readers forgot that Gabi was aware of the royal blood situation, and 22% didn’t expect it to come together this way but liked how it ended up.

Forgot she heard it, if this is what all her buildup has been leading too... 🤢

Honestly thought Pieck figured it out in chapter 116 with her line of questioning so I assumed they already knew or at least had their own doubts about the use of the FT Power but this makes sense as well.

I'd forgotten about it. But I think this confirm the fact she was here during EMA conversation will also be important

I kinda expected her to do so, but still I am glad she did it !!!

She has now served her role as a plot device. Please go permanently off-screen now.

Miscalculation brought back

MAGATH SAYS HE WANTS TO END THE HUNDRED YEARS OF RESENTMENT. WHAT DO YOU THINK HIS INTENTION IS? 1,277 responses

General Magath is the leader of the enemy forces, but seems to have good intentions in mind.  What’s his true goal?  The large majority of respondents, at 45.6% think he wants to wipe out the Eldians on Paradis.  21.7% think he wants to liberate Eldians, and trailing that at 20.4% is the idea that all he wants is the Founding Titan.

Chances are he's wants to wipe them out, he seems to care about the ones under his command, but he seems loyal to Marley first.

He just wants to end the war, he is a good man

Can't know for sure. He is sympathetic to his comrades but Marley has always pushed for more power so that may continue their imperialistic goals. I highly doubt Magath will make a complete 180 and will begin giving countries their own autonomy. Most likely, he will use the FT to further this effort in accumulating resources. No one should wield the power of FT. Too strong!

He wants to liberate Eldians AND annihilate Paradis

He probably wants to change Marley's policies and stop with the imperialism + Eldians-as-weapons, but he also seems willing to use Paradis as a scapegoat so far so I'm rooting against him.

He wants to protect Marley and introduce reforms. It’s noble in theory but I’m wondering if he was manipulated by Willy as per of a larger plan. He’s inspired by the Helos legend but he knows that it’s a lie. He has sympathy for Eldians in his own country but whether he wants to save all Eldians remains to be seen.

I think he wants to destroy the Eldians on Paradis but he also wants to persuade the higher ups in Marley to treat the Eldians more humanely

No clue. He doesn't seem like a genocidal maniac, but I don't think he'll allow Paradis to get off that easily.

Is it too optimistic to hope that he wants to change Marley's ways and to bring peace?

Why is "wiping out all Eldians" an option when he said he wanted to bring marleyans to the wars instead of the Eldians? I'm not completely sure about his intentions with Paradis but it's clear he cares for Eldians and he's ready to do anything to save Eldians and his own country.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF PIECK’S NEW WEAPON? 1,279 responses

The Cart titan has been said to be versatile, and we’ve seen many upgrades and attachments, with this chapter being the biggest of them all.  Most of respondents, at 53.6% thought it was super awesome.

...How did they put it on so quickly?

Further cemented the Cart's place in my heart as best titan

I worry about Pieck. She is intelligent, fast and dangerous with her new weapon. That why Zeke may try to eliminate her fast.

I'm not into guns or gunfights so I don't really care.

Bitches love cannons

It’s a very powerful weapon but it requires time to reload. That a considerable weakness.

It's beautiful

so creepy i had a nightmare about it

PEW!

BIG DICK ENERGY

REINER DOESN’T HAVE FACIAL HAIR IN TITAN FORM. YOUR OPINION? 1,291 responses

Isayama pls!! It’s impossible to know why Reiner’s beard keeps disappearing. It could be a quirk of his titan biology or perhaps the Golden Week crunch meant cutting a few corners. Either way, only 8.7% where glad about the omission.

reiner's facial hair come back pls

WHO BEST REPRESENTS HELOS, “THE HERO WHO WILL SAVE THE WORLD”? 1,282 responses

Helos was a hollow statue, but will there be a hero for the current generation?  32.2% don’t believe so, but 35.5% think Eren will fulfill that role in the story.  12.3% think Reiner will become that hero to the world, and 10.8% feel it’s Magath.

Armin, mark my words

It's between Magath and Reiner. Magath because it has been nailed on him since he was mentioned, and Reiner because he's a half-Marleyan who wants to put an end to Eren's genocidal ways

Erwin/Levi...doesn't matter they're dead/dying, at this point I feel like they were the only ones capable to save the world. I'd say the 104th too but then, look where they are too.....

Heck, going by what's happening I have a sneaky feeling it's gonna be Falco.

Most likely Armin. Him being a "hero saving humanity" was foreshadowed already in RTS

I think resemblance between Helos and Levi isn't incidental.

Helos was proven to be fake, seems they indicate there will be no real hero

Honestly? Fuck it. Nicolo. I'm all-in on this.

Jean the Stallion

I don't know who, but not one of those three that's for sure... Historia? Where are you, our queen?

My Boi Reiner is super awesome here! He shows signs of becoming the new Helos!

Helos was a fake. There was no true Helos. It was just a story, so saying another Helos will save them makes no sense as Helos was just a facade in the first place.

EREN’S EXPRESSION AS REINER ATTEMPTED TO EAT HIM WAS INTENSE, BUT IT ISN’T THE FIRST TIME WE’VE SEEN THIS. WHICH PANEL DO YOU THINK BEST CAPTURES EREN'S TENACITY? 1,286 responses

Based on the overall results, it appears that Eren’s expressions seem to get more and more intense as the series unfolds. Over half of the fandom feels that his most recent expression of resolve has been the one that best captures his tenacity. At a distant second, his expression as he transformed in the basement at the festival takes second place.

EREN IS A GOD

God, I want to punch Eren in his shitty smug face so hard.

Eren's defiant glare cleansed my skin, reaped my crops and impregnated me with 13 babies!

Finally we see Eren having a different expression, showing more of a human side we have been missing lately

I’m gay for eren

God, I'm just dying to see Eren's endgame.

Love Eren! He's awesome! The best hands down! And I can't wait to get inside his head! I know it'll make me love him more! Lol

IS EREN’S EXPRESSION AS REINER TRIES TO “PUT HIM TO SLEEP” TO END HIS SUFFERING EVIDENCE THAT EREN OPPOSES ZEKE’S EUTHANASIA PLAN? 1,282 responses

Almost 40% of respondents believe that Isayama’s placement of these panels was a deliberate way for him to clue us in on Eren’s opposition to Zeke’s plan. 27% don’t want to trust the panel placement just yet and feel it could very well be misleading. 21% feel that he’s simply showing his determination to see the plan through at all costs.

I'm not sure but it was really freaking cool

Eren's determination to fight, win and live!

He is mad because he is fighting to save his friends and future generations. So yes.

didnt notice this before, but yes this is a good theory

I don't even know how these two thing could be related lmao. He just wants to finish the fight so he can proceed with his plan. He can't do that by being eaten by the enemy

Eren didn't hear Reiner's words, so we can't say

Zeke's euthanasia plan requires Eren regardless of the ideals behind it.

I think whatever Eren's plan is, he is determined to do whatever it takes to not die before accomplishing it

It's pretty obvious he wants to unleash the Rumbling on the world. Idk why this is even a question.

I don't think it has anything to do with eren's thoughts on zeke's plan and more to do with his anger at reiner and marley

I feel like people may be looking too deep into this somehow

I actually didn't think of that! Now that you mention it, it's possible.

It's pretty obvious without this that Eren completely opposes Zeke's euthanasia. What I think is more interesting to think about is Reiner's previous question about what Eren "gets" from living any longer: what exactly pushes him to go to such lengths for whatever goal he has now? His country? His friends? His freedom? His family? All of those?

WHAT IS REINER'S MAIN REASON FOR WANTING TO EAT EREN? 1,285 responses

Eren isn’t the only one who’s attempted to eat more shifters, and this time he’s on the receiving end. Did Reiner purely want to eat Eren for tactical purposes, or does he truly want to save Eren from the curse of a cruel life? Most readers at about 60% think Reiner’s just projecting his own thoughts and worldview onto Eren.

All the options above I think. Reiner thinks he knows Eren, but he clearly forgot one important thing: Eren is stubborn and once he's in his rage mode, he will never back down!

Both C and D.  He truly thinks Eren is in misery, BECAUSE he's projecting. Can't have one without the other.

Eating Eren is just a part of Marley's plan but I think it's the revenge that motivates him.

He has nothing left except his role as a warrior fighting for Marley. And he is determined to fulfill this role to the very end

I think he may be projecting his own misery into Eren but he doesn’t realize he’s doing it so he automatically assumes that Eren is in misery. Or it could be that he believes all shifters are going through the same thing he is and are suffering

He just wants to have his job done: eat Eren, become a hero and die.

WHAT WILL EREN GET "FROM LIVING ANY LONGER"? 1,282 responses

When Reiner attempted to end Eren’s life, Eren fought back against the idea his life holds nothing but pain.  What is the light at the end of the tunnel for him?  37.6% believe he’ll end up saving his people on Paradis, and 23.7% expanding that to saving the world.  17.9% think Reiner is right and he’ll only find more pain, and only 8.8% think Eren will go on to destroy the world.

Become Lelouch

Bring his 4D chess plan that somehow liberates the Eldians in a way that's different from what Zeke, the Yaegerists, the other Paradis military members and Magath are planning.

destroying the world to free Eldia from the oppression and probably to build a "future" for Historia and the child, which means to be the only ruling race

He'll save at least his friends, and hopefully help to save the world. by destroying its current foundation, and that includes the Eldians of Paradis

Eren just wants to catch 'em all... JK. He'll put an end to the curse of Ymir - Eldians will no longer be able to turn into titans.

He will destroy the world, cause this is probably his thinking of freedom for the eldians on paradis, but it will give more sacrifices and victims and more pain for others, like Connie who actually suffers, cause Sasha dies, because of Eren's selfishness.

A beautiful wife and their newborn baby

Eren wants to save the Eldians in Marley and Paradis

He will save his friends and future generations of Eldians. Eren doesn't care about himself, he cares about others.

Weird combination of protecting Paradis, those he holds dear and being willing to destroy the world for it.

I really hope world peace and a life in harmony without the titan curse although I'm scared it won't have a happy ending.

F R E E D O M

WHAT EMOTION DO YOU THINK BEST DESCRIBES EREN’S EXPRESSION WHEN ZEKE APPEARS? 1,285 responses

Onii-chan is here, but how does Eren feel about that?  So many interpretations from the same panel!  The most popular answer at 36.3% was astonishment, followed closely by worry, and then relief.

He actually called himself onii-chan

Realization that everyone who drank the wine is screwed

A complex mix of all the above

Surprised, I think he didn't expect Zeke to be there cause of Levi

He somehow feel relieved because he was lacking stamina, but at the same time I think he worries of lives of his friends and people who will end up as titans, if Zeke screams.

Mixed feelings. Relieved that he is saved, but sad because he's ultimately going to betray such a great onii-chan

i kept staring at this panel bc it's been so long since we've seen such a vivid expression on eren's face; it's kind of hopeful too?

This chapter really illustrated how well Isayama can draw facial expressions to convey the characters thoughts

God Eren you're so sexy when your facial expressions are ambiguous

ZEKE'S APPEARANCE IS A SIGN TO EREN THAT LEVI MAY HAVE BEEN DEFEATED. DO YOU THINK EREN CARES? 1,286 responses

Eren and Zeke planned to meet up here, but that would have to mean Zeke escaping Levi, likely in a brutal way.  Now that that’s happened, does Eren have regrets?  55.8% feel he cares about Levi to some degree, 27.1% feel that Eren cares about his mentor a lot, and only 14.2% don’t think Eren cares about the manlet one bit.

He cares, but it was a calculated risk like all the others he's been taking lately. I think he's still shocked that Zeke made it there though.

From where I stand on Eren’s decisions, I think he cares. But I feel like since we don’t know what his plan is yet, we can’t really fully answer this

Hard to tell, since he’s been treating his friends like shit, why would he care more about his mentor?

He knew what could happen to Levi and his men during Zeke's escape but he still agreed on a meeting time and place with his bro, not to mention the Jeagerists openly called him their "biggest threat" and were ready to finish him off. So Eren's definitely accepted the possibility of Levi becoming a casualty.

I don’t think Eren really cares about Levi, I think he’s worried about Zeke turning the Shiganshina people into Titans.

I think he still cares but tries to numb it all down and not care anymore. so he might be fooling himself, deluding himself...I think he did the same with his friends. Thinking that there's a higher goal and that it's all worth shedding your friends aside for it - I think he might be trying to convince himself of that.

In this situation there is no time for him to care about Levi.

ZEKE IS NOW CLOSE ENOUGH TO TITANIZE THOSE INFECTED BY THE WINE. DO YOU THINK HE'LL DO IT? 1,285 responses

It was nice knowing you, Pixis. Now that Zeke has joined the battle within the walls of Shiganshina, it’s not looking good for anyone with a red or black cloth tied around their arm. More than 80% of respondents believe that those who drank the Zekejuice will soon be turned into titans, while only 19% choose to remain hopeful about their fates.

I would say Zeke titanizing everyone who drank the wine is inevitable, but the fact that Falco ingested the wine keeps being brought up. Zeke isn't aware. I feel like he has to know about Falco's state before any decisions are made. Whether that helps or not, we'll find out. After all, Zeke was shown to be close to Colt, who's Falco's big bro. Big brother feelings resonate with Zeke. It's a 50/50 chance imo.

Yeah, with Zeke joining the fray and all those soldiers that ingested his spinal fluid locked up, I expect Zeke will scream and turn Falco + all, if not most, of the spinal fluid-infected Paradis soldiers into Pure Titans next chapter. From there, Zeke will give Eren the Pure Titans needed to attack Marley's forces in Shingashina right now.

IS THIS THE FINAL BATTLE? 1,282 responses

Now that the fight has started, how many think it’s the last brawl?  About ⅔ at 66.2% think the story will continue, whereas ⅓ at 33.8% think the story will end when this battle does.

Honestly this better not be the final battle. Marley vs Paradis is too black and white, I need a large commentary on the human condition

This really does feel like the final multi-titan battle. It might not technically be the final fight, but this feels like the RtS of the post-Marley arc. It's the climactic battle we've been building towards

People can say whatever they want, but everything indicates to me that Eren will become the last antagonist for the final war against the whole world.

This specific fight may not be the final battle but I have a feeling there are more to follow right here. Poetic really, that the series began in Shiganshina and will end there.

WHAT WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO SEE NEXT CHAPTER? 1,289 responses

117’s come and gone, on to 118!  The most popular answer, at about 30% want to see this fight continue more than anything else.  23.3% would like an update about Levi and Hange, 16.2% want the 104th in action, and 11.7% are at the altar of Annie.

please god either of the blonde best girls would be nice.

Armin and Annie joining the battle

I want to see what happened with Hange and Levi and also information on Historia. I also kind of hope to see Eren double cross Zeke.

Eren's plan, Levi, Armin being the genius he is , Annie, Mikasa fighting

Erwin. There is nothing I want more and idc how unreachable my dream is.

Continuation of the battle, and maybe Armin using his titan power to jail protect everyone in the jail cell. If Eren could partially titanise to protect himself, Armin and Mikasa from canon ball fire back in the first arc, Armin could do the same!

Bertolt. More Bertolt.

Some scene where Eren or someone reflects on all those lost, because honestly, it's my only chance of seeing Mina in the main story one more time.

I'd love to see all of them (except Floch), but in the context of what's going on right now, I think it'd be cool to see Annie join the fight just because it's been so long she's been in that crystal, and with practically every Titan in Shingashina right now (not to mention the recent Annie teasing), she's the only one absent from the fight, and I want to see her participate. I also expect to see Zeke using his scream next chapter, because it just feels like the perfect opportunity for us readers to see the Founding Titan in action again.

Floch, 104th, Annie, Yelena, Zeke, Eren, (no levi dont care about him)

I want Mikasa to shine, and I want to see Historia again

WHERE IS MY FUCKING EREN FLASHBACK YAMS, I NEED THE SAUCE PLD

I'm sick of Eren and I don't care what happens to him.  I want to know what happened to Levi.

All of the above, but fuck floch

I'm expecting Zeke will scream next chapter, and Falco will be the among the ones that will turn into a Pure Titan

Is it too much to ask for all of it?

Onyankopon FREE MY SONS AND DAUGHTER. FREE ARMIN AT LEAST.

AT THIS POINT, AROUND WHICH CHAPTER DO YOU EXPECT THE MANGA WILL CONCLUDE?

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER?

Overall..pretty amazing chapter...just want to know the aftermath of zeke's arrival at this point.

Zeke is best boi and I needed that onii-chan panel in my life. My depression is cured.

Greatest Titan Battle yet!!! And Eren is easily the best character in Attack on Titan and one of the best manga protagonists ever!!!

Zeke loves eren and I think its so sweet, eren be gentle with him!

I want to see reiner getting his "revenge" over bertholdt's death , since we know that bertholdt was an important person in reiners life

FLOCH! Where is my lover? I don't have the power. On my side forever. Oooh Missing my Floch Lover!

It been a while since Isayama didn't shine with his drawing specially. The facial expressions and symbolism between some panels are so powerfull meaning and puts us in struggle to decoding it for a bit. One of the most deepest one (for me) was yelena saying "you're different from others Eren, you're special".

I do not foresee a great future for Eren as facial surgeon.

Marley and the warriors is so hypocritical. Porco's line really go to me because they attacked Paradis multiple times first. Hope  eren beats their ass.

This chapter was okay but I’m getting bored of Eren vs Reiner. Also, I would really like to see the 104th out of that damn cell and I would also like to never have to lay my eyes in Zeke or Floch ever again.

Intense and amazing in many ways, Marley FTW

Pieke and Gabi made me feel for them more than I expected.

In need of an update on Historia. Looking forward how Zeke and Eren fight together. Will they actually kill the warriors? Will those who are in the cell break free and come to stop the battle or join in? Did the Yeagerists manage to get their hands on Levi and Hanji??

THE GATE GUARDS DID NOTHING WRONG I WILL NEVER STOP FIGHTING - I WILL SCREAM THIS FROM THE HEAVENS. JUSTICE FOR THE GATE GUARDS

Isayama has gotten very good at action scenes hot damn

I guess Reiner was right with saying that Eren is the most unreliable person who's entrusted with the coordinates and the power of the founding titan, because it could be possible that Eren will use this power for the bad.

I think 104th will escape and Chad style Dab on Marley and pop their airships to end up losing Connie and then get 99999x Thunderspears to create their own rumbling because Eren didn't have the coordinate after all.

Now we need Wack a Mole Eren

I was really hoping porco would eject out of the jaw titan when he was skewered, and retransform only to get nearly killed by Eren either impaling him or using him as a meatshield against Magath.

Where's mah boi Levi and Hanji at?

we were blessed with so much eren this chapter and i’d like to thank not only god but also jesus

Pieck has the biggest dick in the city. Take that Eren's WHT spears.

I really like how the Attack Titan screams so loudly it causes Gabi and Colt to resort to shutting their ears. Pretty sick xD

I sad-cringed at the "oni-chan" comment so much man. Poor Zeke

I think it was a well written battle in the sense that there was still a good amount of tension because Eren wasn't just effortlessly slaughtering the warriors. Instead he defiantly held his ground while outnumbered, outgunned and surrounded which imo showcases his strengths - tenacity and willpower - best of all.

I want all 9 titans to come together in an epic all-out brawl! Please make it happen Isayama!

If Pieck and Zeke don't engage in an Artillery duel next chapter, I'll be sorely disappointed.

This is just the begining of beautiful friendship - 104th and Marleyans. You shall see the truth soon ;)

When I finished the chapter I started crying because of what Reiner said while he was trying to eat Eren. In my opinion, Reiner has been such an accurate depiction of suicidal ideation that it's scary. It's just really painful to see, but I'm glad it's done so well and I really commemorate Isayama for treating it respectfully. I suppose I hope Reiner gets to see the kids again before he dies. At least... give him one last smile before he has to say goodbye.

I am most looking forward to see if Mikasa joins the fight or not, we still don't know what she thinks about Eren now!! And I want to know what Armin figured out, and I really want to know where the FUCK Historia is, and I really really want to know what happened to Levi and Hange. In that order.

Very good and well rounded, comedic moments were funny and not forced, Fights looked great as expected. Unique twist seeing new anti titan weaponry but enjoyable to see it being used.

This chapter really illustrated how well Isayama can draw facial expressions to convey the characters thoughts

It was an artistically beautiful chapter, as has been the norm recently, and I am so excited to see more.

It's so cathartic to see Eren finally let loose again

Magnificent, but seriously when is Annie coming back

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 1,236 responses

This chart changes ever so slightly from month-to-month.  While Tumblr is up a few percentage points, Reddit continues to bring nearly half of all respondents. Thank you again to everyone who participated, regardless of what platform you are on!

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 1: The Note Dawdling Tension Plays (Part 1)

A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, 2009, is this young man's birthday. Though it was thirteen years ago he was given life, it is only today he will be given a name!

CHEL: Here we see the first page, and are introduced to our protagonist, ZOOSMELL POOPLORD! Sorry, I mean John Egbert. The joke names used as a running gag, and also the actual names which end up applied to the characters, were the suggestions of the players of the original forum game.

BRIGHT: Homestuck does start out strongly in several ways. It immediately establishes the protagonist and location. It sets the tone it will use, one based heavily on a text adventure computer game. It introduces the reader to the inventory system...

And here the first feature of Homestuck becomes apparent: although a hugely popular and widely known webcomic, it is very slow to get going. The new reader who arrives on the recommendation of others ends up scratching their head and wondering if they’re in the right place.

TIER: In ancient times (so somewhere in 2014/15) I actually attempted to read Homestuck to see what the occasional weird noises the name caused were going on about. I'm very certain that I didn't even make it to meeting any of the other kids I was so bored.

CHEL: Same here. It took me two or three attempts to get to that point. The problem is that the intro is left over from its days as a forum game, in which no one was expecting it to lead into the epic story it became. It worked great for that format, but less well now. And here we start on our first counts.

GET ON WITH IT!: 1 HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 2

How Not to Write a Novel lists multiple errors which could be said to apply here:

The Waiting Room - wherein the story is too long delayed Here the writer churns out endless scenes establishing background information with no main story in sight. On chapter 3, the reader still has no idea why it’s important to know about [the background info, in this case how badly John fails at using technology]. By chapter 7, the reader would be having strong suspicions that it isn’t important, were a reader ever to make it as far as chapter 7. Zeno’s Manuscript - in which irrelevant detail delays narrative momentum Any scene can be killed by description of every meaningless component of whatever action the character undertakes. As in Zeno’s Paradox, in which an arrow never reaches its target because it must always travel half the remaining distance, the reader begins to feel as if the end is further and further away.

A comic about a kid failing to master a video game inventory system is mildly amusing once, but not when it drags on this long, and it’s not particularly fitting for an epic adventure involving the fate of universes. Well, that’s not quite fair; introduction to mundane life and slow revelation of the magical goings-on works fine for books like the Harry Potter series. But, to take Philosopher’s Stone as an example, multiple different odd things happen over the course of Uncle Vernon’s regular boring day, increasing in scale until it’s very clear something strange is going on, and establishing multiple aspects of the wizarding world, e.g. owls, their fashion, the existence and disappearance of a mysterious villain, the fact that the wizarding world is supposed to be secret.

John fucking about with his sylladex and putting up movie posters for page after page doesn’t tell us anything new. Failing to use the sylladex once would be enough to get the point that magical video game inventories are a thing in this world and John’s not very good at using them across, and then we really ought to move on, and we can already see the posters on his walls so we don’t need to see him hanging more. Possibly we could have needed the latter in a purely text format where we couldn’t see the walls, or in a comic without text description at the bottom where attention would need to be drawn to them on-panel. Admittedly, it does establish him picking up the hammer, which becomes relevant, but we don’t need a full page each for both the action of him picking up the hammer and the action of him hanging the poster.

… Who hangs a poster with nails, anyway? His walls must be in a hell of a state.

For that matter, that’s another HNTWAN entry or two:

The Second Argument in the Laundromat - a scene which occurs twice NEVER use two scenes to establish the same thing. We do not, under any circumstances, want a series of scenes in which the hero goes to job interviews but fails to get the job, or has a series of unsuccessful dates to illustrate bad luck in love. This works in the movies, where three scenes can pass in thirty seconds, but not in a novel. The Redundant Tautology - wherein the author repeats himself If you have made a point in one way, resist the temptation to reinforce it by making it again. Do not reexpress it in more flowery terms, and do not have the character reaffirm it in dialogue […] This point is worth repeating; don’t reiterate. HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 4

Additionally, people with a lower tolerance for “lovable clumsy dork” characters are going to come to hate John before the comic’s even started, though it’s probably best that people who are going to hate the main character learn that quickly so they can leave. I can understand not wanting to lose the forum game which originally spawned the comic, the other people involved would probably not be pleased, but perhaps it would be better saved as a side story and trimmed down when the comic proper was released. At least they could be compressed down by showing multiple failures and multiple poster-hanging actions on single pages.

One other minor gripe might be the neologisms, such as “sylladex” meaning inventory. I found it fairly easy to pick up and it does make the tone and narration nicely distinctive, but it’s a level of extra complication. How Not to Write a Novel has a couple points on excessively baroque wordplay - do you guys think it’s worth giving it a point for that?

BRIGHT: Possibly not in this case - wordplay is a feature of HS and this one is at least made fairly clear. There are plenty of offenders later on as I recall though...

CHEL: Okay, seems fair. In this case it is more of a feature than a bug. It does establish the narrative voice and add to the video game theme. However, the movie posters also bring up an addition to our third count.

Plus, a black president? Now you’ve seen everything! WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 1

A reference to the song “White Suburb Impressionism”, by IAMX…

"IAMX - 'White Suburb Impressionism" (Watch on YouTube)

… this count goes up whenever characters behave in a way which suggests they’re, well, white and suburban (or wealthier), despite any attempts to present them otherwise. This would have passed without comment, but Hussie later tried to claim he’d always intended the kids to be “aracial”, so any reader could project themselves or their preferred headcanons onto the kids. As we’ll show you, we don’t believe him, or at least don’t believe he succeeded. That would probably be difficult to pull off, anyway. Race affects a lot more than features on a stylised sprite.

FAILURE ARTIST: Now, I can’t quite put my finger on it but John’s and Dave’s opinion on black presidents in movies (that it’s a gimmick ruined by Obama’s election) feels like something that would only come out of a white mouth i.e. Andrew Hussie’s. Not the most egregious case of implied whiteness but still worth noting.

CHEL: The point of the joke here is not 100% clear, and that’ll be a thing which comes up later as well. See, I agree that’s Dave’s opinion, but I thought the point was that John genuinely didn’t know there was a black president at the time of writing because he’s already been established to be not exactly a genius and so far he’s been focused on movies and video games instead of real life. Maybe I’m underestimating him, though, since admittedly not very much of him has been shown at this point and it’s been a while since I read the whole thing. I’m not going to start using the ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY count here, though, because here Hussie clearly was trying to be funny. It just isn’t clear to me what about it was supposed to be funny. That’s probably my autism talking, though. Jokes are hard. I agree that it sounds like a white kid’s opinion either way - even the dimmest black American kid would know Obama existed, and so most likely would non-black people of colour.

Anyway! Things pick up a bit when John, under the username ectoBiologist, starts chatting to the second character to be introduced, currently known as turntechGodhead, though the second topic of conversation is a reference to a 1989 movie which, as time goes on, will be familiar to fewer and fewer readers. Luckily, the writer realises this, and the content of the conversation makes the reference sufficiently clear without falling into As You Know dialogue.

FAILURE ARTIST: Namely, their conversation is about a scene where - pardon me for being gross but it’s in the comic - a character accidentally ingests urine instead of apple juice. John and TG are surprised the character knew it was urine but I find it weird that someone with working smell would not know what it is. Urine has a distinct odor.

CHEL: Well, be fair. According to the drawings, the characters in question don’t have noses!

FAILURE ARTIST: On a more pertinent note, this conversation is an edited version of one Hussie and a friend had. Perhaps Hussie was TG? TG is practically an Author Avatar for Hussie. Sure, Hussie literally appears in the comic later, but TG seems to fit his true personality better. We’ll see how that affects things for better or for worse.

BRIGHT: This is also the reader’s introduction to the Pesterlog. This is one of those things that seems like it should be out of place in a webcomic - it’s just a page of two people talking to each other in chatlog format, with no other information - but the Pesterlogs actually work surprisingly well.

FAILURE ARTIST: When I first read Homestuck, I didn’t know you had to click on the Pesterlog to open it. I just sat around wondering what amazing conversations they were having. I’m not the only one I think who made that mistake.

CHEL: Yeah, I think I briefly had the same problem, but I don’t remember for sure. Possibly more attention could be drawn to the button.

TIER: I would've probably ended up in the same boat if the friends that recommended I read Homestuck didn't specifically tell me not to accidentally overlook them!

CHEL: That’s not exactly a writing error, so I’m not sure it falls under our jurisdiction, but it’s a point that ought to be brought up. The Pesterlogs do work well once the reader actually sees them, anyway. It’s actually pretty interesting to see how much information can be conveyed in a conversation without falling into As You Know Bob. Let’s check what points are introduced in this first one, for example:

- John really loves what he got for his birthday, a Little Monsters poster. From this we know he’s not spoiled (this is how you do it, Meyer) and easily entertained, and likely has a good home life, as he’s so happy and grateful about a gift from his dad.

-turntechGodhead has apple juice in his closet. This establishes his odd home life, and gets explained in more detail later.

- Some things about the personalities of both kids. John is enthusiastic and a joker, TG is mellower, sarcastic, rambles a bit, and at least plays at being cool.

- John really wants to play the SBURB Beta, a game mentioned earlier which is late being released. TG is less keen, again trying to be cool about it.

- Said game got “slammed” by critics, despite the fact that we learned earlier from John’s SBURB-logo calendar that this game has been hyped to hell and back and must be popular, with merchandise and reviews being released before even the beta version of the game is out. Something weird is going on; someone really wants a lot of people to play this game.

Not bad considering a total lack of body language reference or narration. Das Sporking’s seen authors using traditional narration do worse!

FAILURE ARTIST: The (adult) critics of Game Bro get into shenanigans that prevent them from playing the game they reviewed. Perhaps there’s something in the game that prevents itself from being played by adults, just like how adults can’t pilot Evangelions in the anime Neon Genesis Evangelion.

CHEL: Not sure. Doesn’t one of Dad’s online friends play it, or at least get caught up in it, later on? Though that part’s obviously supposed to be a joke… Maybe instead it’s a built-in way to stop anyone who might be listened to warning others what it does?

As established earlier, said beta is late; this is a reference to the originally planned launch date of the comic, three days before it actually ended up being released. Also, there’s a pun you may have missed in the background. The programming files on John’s desktop include the phrase “^CAKE”. The ^ symbol is called a carot. Get used to noticing those. It’s pretty amazing how many references, self-references, puns, and recurring themes are worked in, and people such as revolutionaryduelist have made semi-careers picking them all out. We won’t bother with all of them or we’ll be here all century, but we’ll pick up on any obvious ones.

FAILURE ARTIST: Hussie majored in computer science so there’s lot of computer science in-jokes in the beginning.

BRIGHT: Something I just noticed: One of the other files on John’s desktop is ‘TYPHEUS’. It even has a Denizen icon! Probably something that has been brought up plenty of times before, but still nifty on a reread.

CHEL: Typheus and Denizens will come up later in the comic.

TIER: When he feels like it, Hussie is immensely good at foreshadowing later events in pretty subtle but solid ways. It's stuff like this that makes times when he does fumble look worse than they probably are in comparison.

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [7/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47630773

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #fate #fatal flaw #oracle #reincarnation #secrets #undying love

First Chapter

Author's Note(s): Sorry for the delay guys. Between trying to find a place to live, and dealing with a family member with Alzheimers, the past day or so has kind of sucked. But I did finally get some time to myself to finish this chapter, so I hope you enjoy! 

Much of the dialog and imagery of Jason’s flashback is based on actual lines from The Iliad and Madeline Miller's novel The Song of Achilles. If you're looking to cry, read the latter to the end.

________________________________________________________________

Tim stares at the screen of his tablet, reading the information but none of it registering. He’s been at this too long.

Crime scene photos from the GCPD’s system and coroners reports from half a dozen murder-suicides that took place throughout the city in the past week, each one more brutal than the last. One guy took a meat pounder to his girlfriend’s head; another a fire poker to his husband’s face.

I wish I could get out there and investigate the scenes myself.

He’s been effectively benched and it’s starting to give him cabin fever, even though he knows it’s important to stay with Jason right now.

Bruce took off to Amsterdam about an hour again; like Tim, he prefers to retrace crimes from their origin. It’s how they find clues the cops miss. Dick’s doing the same right now in Gotham, revisiting all the crime scenes with Duke by his side in case his retrocognition can help them any. He has no idea where Steph is tonight, but if Barbara’s radio silence is any indicator, they’re probably working something big together.

Jason’s been sitting beside him on the couch in the study, three separate books open on his lap and a notepad where he’s jotting down various comparisons of the information.

(Because “I’m not defacing a first edition version of Les Métamorphoses, especially not one with etchings by Picasso, Tim. It’s just not done.”)

The first hour he managed to keep absorbed in his task, but Tim’s noticed him stopping more often between annotations, rubbing at a spot on his neck or over the spot in his shoulder where he was shot.

Whenever he notices Tim looking, they both immediately look away and go back to work; but after another period of research—getting shorter and shorter after each pause—Jason’s back to twitching and looking guilty.

He’s going to have his neck rubbed raw in another hour.

Despite the fact the whole thing was Tim’s idea, it’s harder to remain unaffected about the need for physical contact than he thought. And Jason notices pretty fast that Tim isn’t as at ease with the ‘treatment’ plan as he’s been insinuating.

He thought Jason putting his arm around his shoulders earlier was mostly to bother Dick, whose attempts at protectiveness had just made the situation more awkward. But when Jason does it again later, unthinkingly draping himself around Tim’s shoulder, Tim can’t help going stiff as a board.

Jason pulls away immediately, as if he’s been burned. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…fine.”

“Stop lying, obviously you’re not,” Jason answers, shifting to the other edge of the couch to put at least three feet between them. “You don’t have to force yourself to do this. I can get through it without you.”

Tim sets aside his tablet. “Because that worked out so well the first time you tried it.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. I’m more than capable of figuring out how to get through this without using your skin as a security blanket.” He pauses. “That came out so much disturbing than I intended.”

“How was it ever not going to sound disturbing?” Tim wonders, and then sighs. “Look, I don’t mind. The longer you stay in a healthy headspace, the more time we have to find a cure.”

“Yeah, but if you’re so friggen uncomfortable with it—”

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit.”

“No, really, it’s fine. It’s my choice.”

“Yeah, say that without flinching and maybe I’ll believe you,” Jason mutters, shoulders slumping. “If you’re going to freeze up every time I go near your personal bubble, screw it. Like I don’t feel like enough of a creep…”

Tim can see how much he hates this, the fact that he’s making Tim uncomfortable—the fact that making Tim uncomfortable upsets him at all. He’s never cared before; it’s always been a kind of unofficial hobby.

But now that his brain and hormones are becoming compromised, it’s more important to him than ever not to cross boundaries. Or at least what he perceives as boundaries.

Tim bows his head.

He’s been managing his feelings about all this by remaining clinical, dividing him from the particulars of the situation the way he’s always done. It’s the sort of thing that works on hard cases, the kind involving little kids or serial murders. He forgot that it doesn’t work so well when dealing with people.

Communication, he remembers Steph chiding him during one argument. Honesty.

Nodding to himself, Tim forces himself to appear relaxed.

“It’s not like that. I just—I’ve never been really good at all the…” He waves his hand, searching for the words, “…physical intimacy stuff.”

Jason blinks, not having expected that. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tim shifts. “I know it’s hard to tell when I’m next to Dick or Steph or someone who…”

“Who has personal space issues?”

“Yeah. But with them I’ve gotten used to it. But with you, you’ve never exactly…”

“Put hands on you except to lay you out flat on the floor?” Jason suggests, and then turns red. “I mean beating the crap out of you! Not the other thing that…! Fuck, he wasn’t kidding about the innuendo thing, was he?”

“Oh, I don’t know. If not for everything going on, I’m pretty sure you’d still be making jokes to make everyone uncomfortable,” Tim muses, his own ears warm at the accidental image Jason’s words provided.

Jason tilts his head to one side, and then nods. “Fair.”

They smirk at each other for a moment. Then something thoughtful passes across Jason’s face.

“What?”

“When you say physical intimacy,” Jason starts slowly, “d’you mean just occupying someone else’s personal space, or…?”

He trails off, and it takes a few seconds before Tim interprets the meaning. His cheeks may actually be on fire right now. “Uh…”

“You’re kidding.”

“Well, the first one’s always kind of an issue,” Tim mumbles, looking away, “so I don’t really—like I said, I’m not used to anyone wanting to get close to me, let alone actually trying it. Which always made everything kind of awkward.”

“And the second thing?”

“…that made it awkward, too.”

“So, you haven’t—? Like, not even with Blondie?”

There’s incredulity there, but no judgment, which is somewhat of a relief; he’s too used to other guys looking like he should have his man card revoked for not pouncing on a gorgeous girl like Steph.

As if anyone would ever get away with pouncing without getting a brick to the face.

But Jason seems genuinely curious, which makes Tim want to try to answer.

“No?” Tim winces at the uncertainty in the word and glances up to make sure there’s still no judgment on Jason’s face. “Not because—not because I didn’t—or she wasn’t—we fooled around, but never—she’d already done the whole unwanted pregnancy thing. We wanted to be careful and wait until we were both sure we wanted to. And then she died, then came back because she wasn’t really dead, and we broke up. But it was a long time ago, and then we never got another opportunity because—well, there was Bruce dying and not dying, and other people dying, and then losing Robin, and just…” He lets his words trail as he realizes he’s been babbling. “Sorry. Babbling.”

Jason makes a dismissive gesture. “Nah, it’s cute.”

There’s a moment where they both process his words, and then Jason’s rubbing at his neck and Tim’s coughing because he thinks he might have choked on his tongue.

“I’m going to…” Jason stands, starts rummaging through his pockets, and then jerks his head toward the balcony, “Smoke break.”

“Right,” Tim answers, carefully neutral.

Tim doesn’t complain about the smoking, even though he hates it. Jason’s under enough stress right now, if the nicotine helps calm him even a little a bit, Tim can put up with it for the short-term.

Not like he’s going to be around once we fix all this.

He lets Jason make his escape and for the first time since the conversation began, takes a full breath.

It’s just Eros’ blood. He doesn’t actually think that.

The truth doesn’t make his heart stop fluttering.

“Fuck,” he mutters, letting his face fall into his hand; he rubs at his face in frustration.

“Wallowing in your failure as usual, Drake?”

He jumps and then shoots a glare across the room at the pint-sized bane of his existence.

“Why aren’t you out terrorizing the streets of Gotham?”

“I’m here to ensure the present status quo endures and neither you nor Todd end up compromised,” Damian retorts. Then Tim blinks, the kid smirks at him. “I’m babysitting you two morons.”

“Well my life just hit another low…”

“I have also been doing research of my own to pass the time, since my talents are being ignored in favor of mundane surveillance tasks,” the boy continues. “I was intrigued at Todd’s apparent symptoms of xenoglossia and decided to peruse the security footage to see what might have precipitated it.”

“…And?”

“It wasn’t until you arrived that it started. He called you philtatos. It means ‘most beloved’.”

Tim tries not to choke. “How do you know that?”

“Anyone who has read the Iliad in the original Greek could tell you that,” Damian drawls.

“Well, excuse me, I had an education meant for this millennium.” Tim tries not to croak, running his hands through his hair in frustrations. The strands are stringy today and he tries to remember when he washed it last was; probably before Jason was brought to the manor.

“Odd that he’d call you that, though,” Damian continues. “He has that habit of assigning the most absurd monikers to anyone within a ten-foot radius. It’s not exactly the type of thing he would say. And to you of all people.”

Tim frowns, ignoring the insult. “You think it’s a symptom of the infection?”

“Perhaps. The term itself, or the tongue in question. In case you were curious, which I doubt since unless it involves a computer your interest becomes depressingly cursory, the language Todd was mumbling in while drooling on your shoulder was Archaia Makedonike.”

“English, brat.”

“Ancient Macedonian, you classless twit. The language itself was prevalent in the Hellenistic period before giving way to its superior successor, Koine, when it was brought by the military forces of Alexander the Great.”

“Conqueror of the known world at the time—why am I not surprised you’re so well-versed.”

“Tt. Of course I am. As a child, Mother brought me on a journey to follow in his footsteps along what was once his Empire.”

You’re still a child, Tim doesn’t say, because he just doesn’t have the energy for the inevitable resulting fight. “Sounds like quality family bonding time.”

“It was meant to show me all that could be achieved in a short lifetime,” Damian sniffs. “And what could be lost just as easily.”

“Because he died young?”

“Not only that, but because of his rather questionable decisions. Like pouring a considerable amount of his treasury into a funeral monument for one of his generals. He was so besotted with the man he died less than a year later. It’s disgraceful.”

“Right, because caring about someone is a bad thing.”

“It is possible to care without being ruled by one’s emotions.”

“Yeah, you’re such an excellent example of that,” Tim deadpans. At Damian’s glare, he makes a defensive gesture with his hand. “What do you want me to say? People do weird stuff for the people they care about.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “Evidently.”

He continues to watch Tim in a way he’s not entirely sure he likes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It sounds like you’ve got something to say.”

Jason chooses that moment to return, although he halts in the door when he notices the way Tim and Damian are glaring at one another. “Am I walking in on something here?”

“I was simply demonstrating Drake’s continued ignorance in several arenas,” Damian replies, and pushes past Jason. “I’ve wasted enough of my day pandering to your nonsense. Shout if you need help.” His gaze lingers on Jason with disgust. “Or possibly a firehose.”

“Was that demon-speak for ‘make good choices’?” Tim calls after him and noticing Jason’s bemused expression offers a half shrug. “He will do great things.”

“See, I knew all that getting on his case was just your way of showing you like him,” Jason teases and settles back on the couch. Much closer to Tim this time, body angled toward him; he can smell leather and the acrid smell of cigarettes.

He forces a grin, “Tell no one.”

“Lips are sealed,” Jason replies, abruptly stretching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

The gesture would normally make Tim want to melt, to bend closer to Jason as well; at first it does, but the reason for it remains starkly in his mind, and instead his skin crawls.

The study suddenly seems too small, too close, magnified by Jason’s focus on him.

Need a distraction.

“There’s a lot of CCTV footage to go through,” he says, clearing his throat and standing quickly. He ambles over to the desk to grab Bruce’s laptop, holding up to Jason. “Feel like going through half?”

“Not particularly, but only because that’s the most boring job ever.”

“And reading scholarly articles dissecting the exact syntax of some ancient play isn’t?”

“Don’t act like if it was Klingon or something you wouldn’t have a field day.”

But Jason accepts the computer, putting his books and notes to one side. Tim exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

They sit in silence again for a while, one that’s somehow more tense than earlier. Tim’s stomach keeps leaping, waiting for the next time Jason needs to reach out to him, simultaneously craving and dreading it.

So it’s no surprise that he physically jolts when Jason suddenly announces, “I think I’ve got something.”

“What?” he asks quickly, hoping his reaction wasn’t that noticeable. He moves to peek over Jason’s shoulder, considering a timestamped video of an Upper East Side apartment. There’s a crowd gathered outside as paramedics load two covered stretchers into an ambulance.

“Right there.” Jason points at a grainy image in the upper left corner, almost obscured by the lighting. “See this woman?”

Tim studies the image of the woman in a leather jacket and skin-tight pants. “Yeah?”

“That’s Carrie Cutter.”

“Carrie…” Tim consults his mental rolodex. “Carrie Cutter as in Cupid?”

“Yep.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’m pretty familiar with anyone Roy might have had beef with down in his corner of the world. You know, just in case.”

Which is a smart thing to do, really, considering old enemies always have a tendency to return when they’re least expected.

And just…great. Because Carrie Cutter, along with being crazy to the point of earning honorary Arkham status, also happens to be a genetically enhanced special-ops soldier that knows how not to be found. If she’s got her hands on divine weapons somehow, it’s going to make apprehending her much more of a challenge.

Especially those weapons. If any of us get tagged with those, we’re done. I’ve been around when the Family gets turned against each other, and it’s never pretty.

The memory of Joker’s macabre dinner party still makes him gag reflexively.

Tim leans forward, balancing his weight on the desk with his palms, and studies the image again. “Could be a coincidence.”

“Has anything about all this felt coincidental to you?”

“Touché.” Tim shakes his head. “Damn. So, Cupid stole Cupid’s bow and arrows?”

What even is my life anymore?

“And the MO makes sense now, if you think about it,” Jason points out; he absently starts to rub the back of Tim’s hand with his thumb. Tim swallows and fights the conflicting urge to jerk his hand away or lean further into Jason’s space. “She has that whole crazed ‘if-I-can’t-be-happy-no-one-can’ thing going on. If she’s got Eros’ diviners, she could accomplish whatever she wants pretty easily.”

“Does she still have that obsession with Green Arrow?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Maybe we should let Oliver know she’s heading his way.”

“Or not.”

“Jason!”

“No, seriously, hear me out, this isn’t me hating on Queen.”

“Sure…”

“Look at the pattern of robberies and deaths—if she’s headed out west, she’s taking the long way and at a slow stroll. There are tons of direct flights from Amsterdam to Star City. She could be there in like a day if that’s her goal, but she’s moving so slowly—based on the places she’s hit, and how long it takes her to get there, I’d say she’s driving.” He traces a line from Europe to the East Coast. “And possibly taking a boat. Not the Carnival way, either. I know people like to go incognito sometimes, but even that’s Bruce levels of paranoid.”

“And he once rode a goat truck across the border of Qurac…”

“Also, there are more direct routes from here to the West Coast.”

“So why come to Gotham at all,” Tim says, and steeples his fingers. “Either she’s taking her time for a reason, or she was never heading for Star City.”

“Then what does she want?”

“And how has she dropped so completely off the radar since she got here?”

Jason shrugs and leans back, stretching his arms and yawning; his arm brushes against Tim’s shoulder on its way down.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Tim asks quickly, wishing his voice didn’t sound like it was squeaking.

“Like sleep or power naps? Because I’ve had a lot of those.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “If you don’t get some rest we’ll have more to worry about than accidental innuendos. You should get some sleep.”

“The irony of you telling anyone that…”

“I’ve never had to fight off an Olympian bloodborne disease.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly comfortable falling asleep right now. I keep seeing weird shit.”

“Like what?”

“I…can’t even remember. The whole thing just gives me a bad feeling.”

“You want to stay in my room?” This time it’s Jason who jumps and shoots Tim a panicked look. “Not like that! I just figured; it’s got all my stuff there. People sometimes take comfort in objects, and I just figured maybe being surrounded by my stuff would help. And I somehow don’t see you as the teddy bear type.”

Jason barks out a surprised laugh. “Hey, leave Paddington out of this!”

“You didn’t actually have a stuffed toy named Paddington!”

“Not just a stuffed toy, I’ll have you know, it was actually a Paddington Bear,” Jason retorts. “My mother used to read the stories to me, and she found him in a second-hand shop the Christmas before she…” Jason trails off, the levity in his face smoothing into careful blankness. “Anyway. I pretended like I was too old for stuff like that, but I was just happy she was lucid enough to even do Christmas that year.”

Tim can’t help the way his eyes soften at the story. He’s never heard Jason say anything about his life before Bruce, at least nothing personal.

Jason seems to notice the scrutiny, because he looks away. “Anyway. Not important. But we can try that whole…staying in your room thing. It would be nice to catch some Zs.”

They pack up their things and head down the hall to Tim’s room; all the while, Tim is trying to figure out what possessed him to suggest this. It’s true, comfort objects are a thing, but he could just as easily have brought a whole bunch of his stuff to Jason’s room for the same effect.

Except Jason doesn’t go near his room unless he’s unconscious and Bruce puts him there to recover.

He flicks on the light as Jason brushes past. “I haven’t been here in a while, so Alfred’s probably changed the sheets and everything. Good to go if you want to sleep.”

“And, uh…you’ll stay, right?”

“Yeah,” Tim replies softly. “At least until you fall asleep, then I have to take care of a few things. Alfred will probably nag me to eat and shower and changes clothes or something.”

And I need to make a trip home to have a conversation with my unwanted houseguest.

“Oh, the horror,” Jason says neutrally, though he starts rubbing at the back of his neck again, irritating the already red skin there.

Tim reaches over automatically and moves his hand away. A week ago, doing that would have probably gotten him punched; now Jason simply lets him, his body unconsciously leaning toward him.

“Listen, if you wake up and I’m not in here, don’t freak out. I’m probably in the kitchen being force-fed grits or something. And if I’m not, just call me and I’ll find you. We can even FaceTime while you wait.”

“Whatever,” Jason says, trying to sound nonchalant. He plops himself down on Tim’s bed, then frowns down at the bedsheet. “Holy shit this is soft.”

“It should be, it’s got a thread count of a thousand.”

“Spoiled ass rich boy,” Jason mutters, lying back on the bed. A surprised and pleased expression appears on his face. “Okay you know what? Forget obsessing over you, I want your bedroom set.”

This time it’s Tim who gives a surprised laugh.

⁂

“I will not be humiliated before my army.”

The lord marshal’s face resembles a misshapen beat, fury twisting his features; the skin beneath his nose is raw from the scented oils he’s been using to block the acrid scent of the funeral pyres. Jason has mostly become familiar with the odor by now—smoke and burning flesh and blood.

“What humiliation is there in appeasing the gods?” he counters and is surprised his voice remains so calm and measured; Tim is a reassuring presence at his back.

“Returning Chryses’ daughter is tantamount to the theft of my rightly taken trophy,” the king of men snarls. “Find me a replacement and I may consider it, but I will not be the only man among us without a prize.”

The quiet among the men is pointed, saturated with disagreement; even the obstinate man’s brother does not stand with him on the dais where kings and their liegemen have gathered. But Jason knows no one will step forward to say anything.

Only me, as usual.

“Son of Atreus, you know as well as anyone that we take our prizes from lawful combat. There’s ample opportunity to replace the girl, or even her worth in gold, three and four times over. All of us who stand here are kings and the vassals of kings, and we don’t owe you compensation when it was you who angered the gods in the first place.”

By taking the girl whose life I was trying to save just to screw me over, I would add.

A few of the men nod at his words; in the background, the moaning cries of the dying fill the air, a cacophony that has haunted the shore for ten days since the plague hit.

“Show your men that you’re as humble in nature as you are proficient in battle, and make amends.” He doubts the pig will notice the insult there. “End this plague before more die.”

Fury contracts the other man’s pupils to fine dots. “You will learn your place, boy. Just because divine blood runs through your veins and your mother raised you to believe you are special does not mean you might speak to me as an equal.” Jason bristles but is immediately cut off again. “Silence! I have no interest in whatever clever words your puppet master would have you speak.”

The blunt insult instead of flowery political doublespeak is surprising enough to still the words on his lips. He senses when Tim stiffens; they both know that last was directed at him.

“If I hear further suggestions that I give up my property without receiving something of like value in exchange, then I will sacrifice the man who suggests it, along with Chryses’ bitch daughter to appease the gods. Perhaps you might volunteer, Peliades,” the lord marshal concludes.

“I’m not afraid of speaking up when it’s needed,” Jason growls, “and we all know you can’t afford to sacrifice me.”

“Listen to the arrogance! It is the same you have displayed from the moment you arrived here. I believe it to be high time you face consequence for your heedless words.”

“Consequence,” Jason echoes, calm; Tim shifts closer, knowing that his outward composure is a sign of danger. The men around them shift as well, some of them whispering; more than one man’s fingers twitch toward their sword. “It’s you who should think of consequence.”

“Careful,” Tim cautions in his ear, breath hot across his neck as he comes to step beside him. He has to keep from rubbing at the area with his thumb.

“Is that a threat?” the king of men demands.

“An observation. How much longer do you think these men will last, without me to lead them into battle? How many times have I been the one who turned the tides of defeat to victory, while you remained in the back ranks?”

Now the whispering is louder, angrier; voices of dissent and outrage.

“I am High King!” the older lord roars. “Every man here knelt before me when we came to these shores or swore oaths to the gods to follow my command. Even your beloved Menoitiades whom you shield as if he is your wife.” Tim clenches his fists but carefully doesn’t meet Jason’s eyes; acknowledgement of one another now will only prove the argument. “You are the only one that always considered yourself above such things.”

Jason is furious. Green like the cold sea edges around his vision, and it would be so easy to leap across the three-foot gap and snap the bastard’s neck. He could do it before anyone else might react, and he’s fast enough to get away before anyone retaliates.

But Tim isn’t.

Tim who remains tense, shoulders set and whose fingers make a minute twitching motion against his side, silently beseeching Jason to keep his calm.

It doesn’t work.

“I have nothing to prove to you, or any who swore oaths to you,” Jason snarls through gritted teeth. “The horse-tamers have never threatened my home, have never stolen our stock or torched our fields. I chose to be here, to sail to this wretched city and help your half-wit brother regain a woman who likely doesn’t wish to be reclaimed.”

More murmuring; it’s a sentiment no one has wanted to voice.

“Have a care with your words, boy; not all gods who listen are favorable to you.”

“And what would you know of the gods? I’m closer to their ilk than you ever will be, without the scandal that troubles your bloodline. If anyone should have these men’s fealty, it’s not you. Perhaps you should be the one who bends knee in appeasement.”

The crowd is outright clamoring now, supporters and enemies alike shouting over one another. The older man’s eyes widen in triumph. “You think yourself better than me? Or than the men I command?”

“No, they are my equals. You’re the dog-faced son of a bitch that isn’t fit to clean the boots of the men you profess to lead into battle.”

Exclamations of disbelief.

“That’s enough!” Tim hisses, jabbing him with an elbow.

“Yes, listen to your keeper, Peliades. He seeks to save you from being named a traitor to this army, and suffering punishment for it. Though I think we are beyond the point of playing this off as country bumpkin ignorance to custom. Your war prizes are forfeit; I will take them under tutorship until you come to your senses and offer submission to me.”

Jason’s muscles pull taut in incandescent anger. “You have no right to do that!”

“I have every right, especially since you are so keen to take mine. In fact, I demand the first woman you took as spoil at Ilion—fetch me Briseis’ daughter. She will replace the woman the gods wish me to return.”

“If you touch her, you forgo your victory in this war. I will take my ships and return to my land.”

“Flee, then, if your heart urges you! I have no fear of you—of all the kings the son of Kronos nurtures, you are the one I hate the most. Go with your ships, run with your tail between your legs. But I will have the woman before you go.”

Jason’s hand goes to his sword, but Tim’s hand is on his then.

“Leave it,” he whispers, frantic. “There are greater punishments than death. Let’s regroup and find a solution to this away from prying eyes.”

Jason knows he’s right. The men around them are filled with shock and disapproval, but none of the cowards will support him if he strikes down the king of men.

And so instead of slicing the ignorant prick’s kneecaps out from under him, Jason simply spits at his feet.

“You’re a coward with the face of a dog but the heart of a deer. You’ve never had the courage to arm for battle along with the men you boast to lead because you fear death. You’re faithless, taking the property of those who speak contrary to you, preferring to rule over a kingdom of nobodies. Your words today doom you and your men to disgraceful ends.” He glares at all the men gathered there simply watching. “I won’t fight alongside this army any longer, and without me, you’ll all fall, ground beneath the feet of the man-killing prince. The day will come when you send your toadies to me to beg, and you’ll kneel before me crying for forgiveness, but I’ll give you nothing but laughter as you bleed in the dust before me. You will all die in ignominy for what the son of Atreus does today.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and stalks away.

Tim follows, as do the rest of the men sworn to him.

“I’ll kill him,” Jason fumes under his breath when they are far enough away not to be heard. “I would have if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“I know. And then you would have been struck down, which I couldn’t allow,” Tim soothes. “Be patient. I’ll think of a plan, you know I always do.”

“And in the meantime, that sack of pig shit will take Hippodamea and vent his frustrations toward me on her,” Jason growls.

“If he rapes her, he violates the life of one who is under your gods given protection. His men and the gods will turn on him if he does. After that display, he’s not going to court anymore of their disapproval. She will be safe until you bend knee to him.”

“Which won’t happen.”

“There are more important things than your pride,” Tim reminds him, a bit of reprimand in his tone. “Don’t lower yourself to his level, to the level of men, when you are as a god.”

Jason blinks, and turns to Tim. “That’s it.”

“What?”

“I’ll go to my mother.”

Tim’s face pales. “No!”

“Why not? And it better not be because you think she hates you.”

“She does hate me, but that’s besides the point. I just…have a bad feeling. The silver-footed are like the sea—unmerciful and uncaring who they harm in their storm. That path leads to death, I think.”

“Yes. His.”

Tim is silent and continues to look worried.

“I don’t need your permission to do this,” Jason tells him, a little sour that he doesn’t have his support on this matter.

Something like hurt flickers across his face, but then Tim’s expression goes carefully blank. “I would never presume to tell you what to do.”

“That’s not what everyone on this gods forsaken beach thinks!”

“Since when have you ever cared what people think?”

“You can’t stop me doing this,” Jason snaps.

Tim looks sad now. “I know.”

He turns to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to prepare Hippodamea for what’s to come. Somehow I doubt you will be able to feign sympathy long enough to shoulder that burden,” he replies coldly, and stalks away.

Jason watches him go, his righteous anger continuing to simmer, until it occurs to him that Tim is actually quite angry with him. Some of the bite goes out of his rage, and worry creeps through his body.

“No, wait,” he starts, hurrying after him. “Don’t go—”

“—Tim!”

Jason sits upright in bed, arm outstretched as if to make a grab for a hand or arm, only to grasp air.

A maelstrom of different emotions cloud his mind, blocking his awareness of the room around him for several long seconds while he fights for his bearings. Anger and hurt and guilt and fear, all tied up with longing, playing on repeat in his head.

He has the strangest compulsion to make amends for something and he doesn’t remember what.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, pulling his hand back close to his body, elbow to chest, hand pressing against his shoulder. The skin radiates heat through the cotton of his t-shirt, warmer than his normal body temperature; probably from the wound.

He is alone, surrounded by pillows and a comforter that should smell like Tim but don’t (because Alfred washed them, so they’re new), in a room that feels somehow too big (which it shouldn’t, it’s the same size as the other rooms, as his room that he never goes into if he can help it. It’s bigger than the holding cell was).

A glance at the digital clock reads two in the morning. Prime patrol time, and more importantly, four hours since he put his head down. He’s pretty sure that’s the most sleep he’s had in a week, even if it was cut short by another of those maddening dream sequences that vanish from his memory in direct relation to how awake he becomes.

Where’s Tim?

He swings his feet over the edge of the bed, ready to go looking for him in the house, before remembering what he said before he fell asleep.

Don’t freak out.

Right. No problem. Tim’s just off somewhere having a human moment, which is just as well. He probably needs a break from Jason. Jason knows he needs a break from Tim—from everyone really. He can’t remember the last time he was in someone’s constant presence.

This is a good thing, he tells himself as he glances around the room, absently picking at the dry skin on the side of his thumb. He didn’t really look around when he first walked in. His brain was still trying to process the concept of Tim being the one to suggest his room as being the best place for Jason to relax.

And the surprise that he was actually right.

Tim is everywhere in these walls—video game posters and obscure pop culture refences—and furniture. There are candid photographs of him and his friends—Jason scowls at one of him and the Super Clone standing way too close together—and half-finished projects of wire and circuit. Clothes and books are strewn across the floor and—

“Christ, kid, you’re a goddamned slob.”

He never really took note of that quirk of Tim’s before, probably because they never really hung out. His knowledge of the kid’s lifestyle was limited to his own notions of what spoiled rich boys were like, and the general observation that his replacement ran on coffee and energy drinks.

His thumb is bleeding now from his continued picking, and he wipes it angrily on his pants, standing up. He needs a distraction. Otherwise, he’s going to go looking for Tim, or blow up his phone with calls until he picks up. He needs to prove to himself that he still has some control—test how long he can manage on his own, or at least test how long it takes between Tim leaving him alone and the anxious thoughts to set in.

He’s coming back. He wanted me to be here, or he wouldn’t have suggested it.

Jason just has to be patient.

Which…yeah, that was an issue even before this fixation crap.

“Screw this, I’m not just sitting here,” he grumbles, and starts wandering around the room, sorting clothes and tools and whatever other detritus has gathered on the floor. Cleaning is both mindless and immersive, something to do with his hands instead of scratch bloody welts into his skin.

And yet, he still drops everything when his phone vibrates.

“Tim?” he asks in the same breath that he unlocks the phone.

“Sorry.” Barbara actually sounds apologetic. “Just me.”

Disappointment hits him like a punch to the face. “No, yeah, it’s fine.”

“How are you holding up?”

Of course she knows what’s going on, too.

“Spectacular,” he says dryly, running a hand through his hair. “Can we maybe can the sympathy? I’m getting enough of that over here as it is. And you never call just to check in.”

There’s a beat, and then Barbara speaks again, still in her own voice, but more businesslike. “I may have found something.”

He likes that about her. She doesn’t get upset when called out on something, nor does she spend time on bullshit.

How the hell she dated Dick so long will forever be a mystery.

“What?” he asks, studying a strip of picture booth photos of Steph and Tim; the typical assortment of funny faces, pressed close together. Jason frowns, tugging absently at his hair.

“I’m not sure it’s anything, yet,” Barbara cautions, “but it’s almost certainly related to your situation.”

“And how’s that?”

“Because it involves Carrie Cutter.”

Jason straightens up. “What?”

“As soon as you and Tim established that Cupid was involved—both Cupids, I guess—I set up a search algorithm to track her whereabouts for the past month or so.” Of course she’s been monitoring everything from her little command center; this goddamn family and their surveillance… “It’s a bit too neat, someone with her modus operandi just bumping into the real Cupid.”

“And we don’t do coincidence.”

“Exactly.”

“So, she had to be sent there by someone or something. Specifically, to steal from Eros.”

“Yeah. Still working on who, though,” Barbara agrees. “That’s not the most interesting part, though.”

Jason’s scalp is beginning to burn from the distracted tugging, but he doesn’t stop. The pain is punishing, keeps him focussed on Barbara’s voice, and not the urge to hang up on her to call Tim. “Lay it on me.”

“I’ve got newspaper reports from the village of Delphi in Greece with a woman of her description killed a blind twelve-year-old two weeks ago. Sliced her throat with one of her arrowheads and walked away, took out anyone that tried to stop her.”

“Fuck.” Jason almost bites his tongue.

Carrie Cutter’s always been a murderer, but from what he knows of her from Roy, she never hurt a kid. His fingers itch with the need to punch something; he yanks his fingers out of his hair, several strands coming away with it, and slams his fist down on Tim’s desk. It creaks at the force.

“You okay?”

“Better than she’s going to be,” he replies tightly. “What else?”

“You heard me say Delphi, right?”

There’s a pause, like she’s letting him process, which he’s glad for; he did miss that the first time. Jason thinks the news over again, remembering bits and pieces memorized from National Geographic when he was a kid.

“Delphi,” he repeats. “Like the Oracle of Delphi Delphi?”

“Exactly.”

His back goes even more rigid. “Isn’t it common in a lot of myths that people who can see the future tend to be blind?”

“Good memory.”

“So we’re thinking the kid was a seer.”

“I’m thinking the kid was the actual Oracle of Delphi.”

Jason whistles. “But there hasn’t been one of those in hundreds of years, right?”

“Not since Theodosius I closed the temple when the Pythia gave him some bad news. Five years later, he was dead, and the Visigoths had captured Rome, and after that it wasn’t safe to be an oracle. But secret societies have been started over less.”

“Still, how would someone like Carrie Cutter know or even be interested in looking up some secret oracle? Even for Queen, she’s small-time.”

“Still working on that part.”

“And if she did talk to the oracle beforehand, what did the kid tell her that made her kill her?”

“Unfortunately, there was no tech anywhere around to pick up on that. Not even tourists taking cellphone videos.”

“Fuck.”

“But lucky for us, we have someone that can sort of see ghosts.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “Duke.”

“Exactly,” Barbara says, and sounds smug, like she’s just managed a checkmate against fate or circumstance or something. “As soon as he’s done with Dick, I’m sending him on quick trip to Greece. He’ll get a kick out of the plane, I think.”

Jason winces.

It won’t be easy for the newest member of the family to watch a kid being murdered, all for Jason. Worse is the fact he’s a hundred percent sure Duke’s seen worse.

Instead of voicing that thought, however, he says, “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

There’s a heavy silence.

“Do you want me to stay on the line?” Barbara asks after a moment. “Until Tim gets back.”

Jason’s first instinct is a snappish retort, a denial that he needs her pity.

But his hand has found its way back into his hair, tearing at the strands as he anxiously waits for the younger man to return and for all he knows, it could be anywhere from ten minutes to ten hours before he sees him again.

He shivers at the thought.

That…would be bad.

And so he clears his throat and tells Barbara in a gruff voice, “Yeah. Okay."

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Montenegro to Eurovision with 6 young souls

(this is a pre-vamp review so take this whole thing as “something I wanted to publish but my schedule was withholding until it was specifically time for them to be reviewed”, therefore, this is a bit of a retrospective review. Will tackle on its revamp later!)

Montevizija, which finally has an official Twitter account (we all should forget the times some dude named Vasilije pretended to having made one), offered us another batch of 5 songs for another year, actually revealing all of them beforehand this time and not just the snippets! Joy to the world I guess.

You gotta love Montevizija for it being the most underrated ex-Yugoslavian national final btw. Granted, it only lasted for 2 editions as of now, and it will take years to grow bigger as a thing, but so far, for us the NFs that are ingrained to our brains more are Dora, EMA and Beovizija (and even Skopje Fest when THAT was used to pick an act and not just served as a festival like it originally was meant to be), therefore Montevizija seems more shunned. But what do you expect when the lineup of 5 for two years in a row is not exactly as stellar as hoped for? Well, there are gems here and there, but they haven’t really won on either years (or at least not on the 2nd year if you call Vanja’s song a gem too), and yet somehow they find someone who call them great. But for me this Montenegrin entry is not. :L

And who is up there to be colossally blamed for its existence? None other than this group of 6 refering to themselves as D mol (with “mol” decapitalized for whatever reason... they used to have hyphen separating the ‘D’ and ‘mol’, but now they scrapped it altogether, an anime death I’ll never forget). Worth noting that I, as a 19 year old, have this particularly ugly feeling I must get rid of, and that’s the one of “feeling old”, already at my age. And this is how I felt seeing that the band whose song I am not fond of today is made up by members that are of 16-17 to 21-ish years old!!! So my heart insists that I shouldn’t go too hard on these poor younglings, even if this is just me, currently tackling the brethren of my age. Prepare as I’ll go to shred their composition they’re going to Tel Aviv with, “Heaven”, to bits.

Although, what I call “shredding to bits” is merely just nitpicking the reasons the original version (keep bearing in mind that I haven’t heard the revamp yet) sucks imo, and idk, the new “Heaven” miiiiiiight just grow on me, but I heavily doubt about it because I never cared for it in the first place (youhouuu, they were my last in Montevizija ‘19 for a reason), and I’m rather looking forward for the new faves from the 8 songs I haven’t listened to yet rather than those that were already chosen. And even the Eurofans were not quite fond on the revamp, as some think the additional ethno sounds made it sound worse (and of course there are some that kinda like it or think of the song as their guilty pleasure). So why shouldn’t I? :O

Anyway, old “Heaven”. The first sounds on here to grace my ears on this song consist of one light piano note being tapped to an exact rhythm and a confused baby girl stuttering. And I’d’ve maybe enjoyed this more ironically at some point if it weren’t for the latter sound effect being re(ab)used later in the song!! Ugh I hate it. The lyrics are fine I guess... though isn’t it ironic the only English song in Montevizija’s lineup this year won?? It’s like the Montenegrin people were openly cringing when being the only ones to understand Vanja comparing his life to cat’s and mouse’s and calling his heart “the most expensive toy” in his song and then they were like “you know what? Let’s let the WHOLE Europe understand how terrible our lyrics are! ^_^” (no but for real, who still uses “I’m in heaven, falling straight into your heart” as a pick-up line? Did they travel through time from 1998 to 2019 or something???)

Speaking of the 90s, the whole song smells like a dated cliché of that period. You know, the kind of “the high school prom song from that 90s teen sitcom’s who you’re forced to watch when your elderly aunt is in the house with you and there’s nothing else on TV” dated. Dated even more than “Chain of Lights”. Seriously though! It includes the pathetic “wah wah” bassline, mid-tempo beats, the boy/girl-group harmonies... catch me puking sugar-coated cheese to this, no thanks. Oh and if you already read my “Zero Gravity” review (which you probably never even bothered to after seeing how much text would you have to read), I definitely mentioned that I’m not a fan of those “two verses-two choruses” songs, and especially those kind of ones that aren’t sounding like something suited for radio (e.g.: Poland 2018, “Light Me Up”)... this obviously sounds like something from the radio of the times the at-the-time senior highschoolers are currently over 30 or slightly over 40, and that should be 4 and a half minutes long. These verses could just not be more ridiculously dragged out for the choruses to prevail and get stuck in our brains... fucking welp [sic] me already.

Well, if there are any brownie points I could give this, it’s pleasant, it’s harmless if I don’t take into account the cheese vibes this emits, and all this bunch are made up by up-and-coming talented singers that clearly deserved a better song...

And the staging concept in their NF was cool tho (illustrating their power of D mol), and I applaud the couple chemistry I guess

Oh and this below is one of the most underappreciated memes this Euroseason:

*stares into your soul in Montenegrin*

So yeah. Oh and the Rizo(tto) guy who is self-aware of his hotness and the hotness of the much older Eurovision guys this year, but he’s not doing it for me so that I could be in heaven falling, so he’s getting a hard pass.

All in all - a nostalgia cash-in made to appease the housewives from Podgorica to Skopje, from Novi Sad to Štúrovo, and nothing quite else, sung by a cool bunch of people that if anything are deemed this year’s "great people with an unfortunately too dated song and a shitty draw” by me. I don’t know much of their personalities but I do believe that even if they like what they’re singing, they’d be much better off doing a better sounding throwback, at least. So that even the disappointed-by-”Heaven” Eurofans could at least call it “so dated but a BOP!”. And hey, I’m aware of those fans that will likely be pissed at me for not bopping along to this, but I said what I said about it and yet again, if revamp changes my mind, I will change my opinion, but right now I’d not prefer to. Grumpy Adio.

Approval factor: Hell with the no. I would like Vanja back instead. At least he made himself a somebody to be cared about even if the Eurofans didn’t quite adapt to his song in return.

Follow-up factor: somehow, both “Inje” and “Heaven” were/are seen by the masses as instant NQs, so it somehow doesn’t sound like Montenegro is following a great path so far. And after this year anything that audience favours and wins can be seen as a way better follow up after something meh coming after something wrose.

Qualification factor: For the n-th time, I’m yet to check the revamp out to state where this will actually go, but being put 2nd in the draw is a massive stab in the knee, as demonstrated by even the national finals this year (Electric Fields in Australia Decides, Aly Ryan in Unser Lied für Israel, Lisa Ajax in Melodifestivalen final... the only glaring exception is ZENA in Eurofest but is it me or these producers did this just so they could be all like “heeeey we put a winning song on 2nd just to show that a NF song can win from ANY draw! ANY DRAW!!!” lol nope), and from it only a few lucky souls have crawled out victorious (Nathan Trent for example, the draw might have pushed him down in the semi but he got up again!). D mol, for as young and developing in talent as they are, don’t seem to be such. You can be young and pitied for your personality, but you always can at the same time have a song that completely crushes your chances to do well and sweeps up the last shards of hope right in front of your eyes despite being an angel worthy of protection (Ari Ólafsson, anyone?). Unless the D molians work all their magic and the random ethnic vibes into their favour for some reason, but for now it ain’t gonna work.

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

And even then, what was so interesting about Montevizija 2019?? Let’s see...

• First off, let’s address one meme of the beginning of 2019 that Facebook may or may have not used purposefully to upgrade their automatic “facial recognition” skills - the 10 years challenge. Our first one of this season is the sassy maneater who spent her ESC stint by trying to unlove a guy so hard that he just couldn’t oblige - Andrea Demirović. Her decade-later A-game happened to be this one song she sang in her mother-tongue: “Ja sam ti san” (I am your dream). Now, I wasn’t particularly into it - I enjoy some electro tracks out there (like hello, “Igranka” is one of my favourite Montenegrin entries, and 2013 entries overall as well) but this one just ended up being the right amount of cool AND overbearingly unsettling for me to not really fancy it. Kinda like “Red” by HyunA - I can only bop to this if I don’t care about the fact I actually hate it, oops. (Or maybe it is just because Andrea once again used a composition done by one of those “rent-a-NF-songwriter” people. Which is at least better than collabing Ralph Siegel who’s stopped being relevant ever since starting to work with San Marino, or even since the hilarious attempt of a peace song sung by the original common framework, six4One. But since Michael James Down has co-contributed to one of the better Montevizija songs last year, I will not allow myself to think it’s thanks to those kind of songwriters.) Nevertheless, the Eurofans actualy kind of loved this song, but sadly, Montenegrins and the international jury did quite not, and she didn’t land on to the superfinal 2 (as opposed to a superfinal 3 last year, to which she could have easily qualified if it still were a 3). Here’s her song to y’all anyways (and the performance too, which just needed to include some random monster dudes dancing around... why? Because Eurovision! ^^):

• Speaking of Andrea, during the results part there was this one shot of hers where she was pictured just casually chilling on her phone, not giving a damn that she’s being underrated on the scoreboard. Not only she was badly rated, but this moment was such an universal #mood!

• In between the finally final results announcement (which I didn’t really know when exactly was it taking place because the winner wasn’t really said out loud before the event I will describe next was taking place??) there was this lottery going on of who would be the lucky two audience observers that’d win tickets to Tel Aviv... hilariously enough though, it somehow malfunctioned and there were some sort of errors regarding the announcement of the RIGHT winner <3 but the winners happened and I hope they’re getting to go to Tel Aviv at some point during the Eurovision events! Hope they don’t feel startled by the lack of taken seats this year.

• Unlike Eesti Laul, Montevizija this year took up the job of showcasing tweets of Eurofans, and somehow this fellow fella ended up seen by a handful of Montenegrins AND international viewers. Take a wild guess which of them know what a daddy Serhat is.

• And who could not forget the magic flying envelope for to announce the winner of the NF:

there must have been some Harry Potter magic in there :O

As for what touches the other songs, well there’s the last year’s fan fave Nina Petković with another song, but it’s no “Dišem”, so don’t even bother. Or bother, but imo it’s just okay-sounding, nothing that groundbreaking or pleasant enough to be competitive. The other few songs were also nice but I’d like not to make this longer as my other write-ups, to be fair. Sucked to be Mr. Kállay-Saunders who, as the international juror chosen for this national final, had to rank its songs... as that NF happened right on the same day his second A Dal 2019 performance was taking off. Not that the international jurors were supposed to be present in Montenegro on the day of this NF, anyways...

Anyway, despite all this goddamn criticism (that could’ve flown more smooth had my computer not restarted in the middle of me doing paragraphs for this review), I’m fare welling the D mol-ians and would like to wish them a heavenly Eurovision experience. ^_^