#i get frustrated to see people lament on here about how they feel depressed and tired. then go take a break and journal.

[noctomania]

Patient persistence

A genocide doesn't happen overnight. It doesn't end overnight. It's a cumulation of several choices made over a period of time, perhaps years or evendecades. YesterEra, when globalization wasn't so pronounced, information was slow to travel and even slower to make its impact and be synthesized into action.

Now? Lightening speed. But that doesn't change the fact that the distance traveled must be retraced backwards. What takes years to become will often take years to undo.

As we have become accustomed to things traveling so fast - information, trends, life in general - we have become impatient and unobservant. Even at times, thoughtless and calloused to the realities of life. Reactionary. We get in our own way at times even with all the advances we have made.

Modern day we collect more information at a rate far faster than we can figure out what to do with it. Those who have failed to develop the skills to navigate this terrain can quickly burn out and turn inward, shutting out all the relentless information. They turn wholly selfish.

"I can't carry the burden of knowing others are suffering," they will plead. While those who suffer then continue to suffer in near silence until they are no more. People who have not developed patient persistence will succumb to the overwhelming amount of atrocities being committed across the globe.

Balance is a fundamental to life, always has been even before humans were in existence. Every living thing seeks balance... unless convinced not to. We, as humans, do not know better than any other animal. We are manipulated on the daily.

Want to fight back? Want to be a voice for the voiceless? Take care of yourself and learn what your needs are so you can prepare yourself to help others. Putting your oxygen mask on first, if you will.

Persistence doesn't mean non-stop. It is endurance, it is obstinace, it is continuing indefinitely even after what needs to be resolved is to ensure it never happens again. It doesn't mean using every waking hour. Cross country isn't a sprint. You can't persist by running yourself into the ground. It takes kindness to oneself. Understanding. Patience.

Patience is enabled through knowledge. Even patience isn't bottomless. That's why you need to take breaks. Do not overshadow the big issue with your own foolish folly. Be prepared to endure. We are not superheroes, even though some think humans are a superior animal for some unsubstantiated reason.

The people who need you need you to be patiently persistent.

[sadisticpussies]

It’s your fault for thinking he would be different. Sofia inwardly reprimands herself as she laid in her bed with puffy red eyes and a barred throat from crying. She’s heard the rumors about Rafe all over the island; about the things he and his family’s done, about the people that they’ve hurt—but she simply deduced it as speculation.

Because he Rafe that she’s gotten to know the past year and a half seemed incapable of hurting anyone especially when he was too busy mourning the death of his father. Sofia saw a side of Rafe that others didn’t—an emotionally vulnerable one, who often sought her out when the memory of his father became too much for him and he’d cry against her chest as his arms wrapped around her body like an anchor, or that she’d sometimes catch him solemnly looking at family pictures, especially the ones with Sarah and could tell that he carried the loneliness of their broken family on his shoulders.

That was the Rafe she knew. Her Rafe.

The one she overheard today, that demeaned her with such disgust and vitriol and practically laughed at the thought of being in a relationship with her—a pogue—was a stranger. She always assumed that Rafe’s disdain for pogues was solely due to his disliking for Sarah’s friends. She didn’t know he categorized her as someone he felt superior to, too good to be in an actual relationship with.

Maybe it was her fault for being naive and believing in the fairytale that classism didn’t matter especially to the richest kook on the island.

rafe

wanna come over? i miss u.

7:45 PM

She’s been ignoring his calls and texts all day, too frustrated and humiliated to talk to him. He deceived, mocked, and ridiculed her like she was nothing of importance to him. Like their months of conversations, kissing, and getting to know each other was redundant.

rafe

are u okay? i’ve been calling and texting all day but u aren’t responding.

8:00 PM

Sofia laughs sardonically as she read his text, at how easy he feeds into his own lies as if his care about her was sincere. She realizes now that she was nothing to him other than a warm body to fill the void of his loneliness, an easy fuck to offer him a distraction. Her wry laughter quickly subsides and she’s feeling tears fogging her vision again.

Why did she have to fall in love with him?

It’s only a few minutes later that she hears a knock against her door. Sofia groans, assuming that it was her father trying to pry her out of her room so that she could eat dinner. But food was the farthest thing on her mind right now. She didn’t want to eat nor did she want to be bothered. She just wanted to be left alone to sulk in her depressive misery.

“I’m not hungry, papí!”

But the knocking persisted, ignoring her pleads. “Papí!” She laments, wiping her tear stained face with the back of her hand as she clambers to her feet. She grabs at the knob and tugs it open, sighing softly in exasperation. “I said I wasn’t—” Sofia pauses when she realizes that it wasn’t her father standing there.

It was Rafe.

He smiled softly at her, like everything between them was copasetic, like he didn’t hurt her. And it pisses her off; seeing him standing athwart from her with his dimpled smile like they were okay.

“Hey, baby,” He greets, taking a step towards her in attempts to embrace her in a hug. But Sofia quickly retracts, bridging the distance further between them. His face furrows in a confused expression at this realization.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” She questions, unmoored by his maimed expression. She keeps her stance firm, halfway blocking his view of seeing the inside of her bedroom.

(That would only be another thing he’d laugh about.)

Rafe’s countenance deepened in a furrow, realizing that Sofia looked almost annoyed by his presence. He blanched and recoiled at her callous tone, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. “I uh, I wanted to come see you. I tried texting you but you weren’t answering so—”

“Yeah, when someone does that it means that they don’t want to talk!” She beseeched, rolling her eyes as she slammed the door in his face, causing the room and a few things on her dresser to reverberate in its wake.

Behind the door, Rafe stood there completely confused and bewildered by Sofia’s behavior. Had he inadvertently done or said something to offend her? Was it his impromptu visit to her house that annoyed her? Bringing his hand up to the door, he knocks again waiting for an answer.

“Go away, Rafe!” She avers, her voice stern and adamant. But he couldn’t not when the unanswered question of why she was upset and didn’t want to see him remained present.

“Sof,” He pleads, “Can you please open the door so we can talk?”

Sofia shook her head, still surprised at how good he was at pretending like he cared—the tone of his voice almost deceived her again into thinking that there was sincerity behind his words and plead—but she knew it was just another facade. He’d gotten what he wanted out of her and now the masquerade of his true character was showing.

(She just wishes she saw it sooner before.)

Running a hand wearily over her face, Sofia sniffled as she stared at the door. “There’s nothing to talk about. You said what you said—”

“I don’t know—what did I say?” Rafe asks, his eyebrows furrowed deeper as he hurriedly scrambled his brain for an answer.

But his efforts were futile because he genuinely doesn’t remember any conversation that they had that would warrant this type of behavior from her. Things have been good between them and for the first time in a long time, Rafe’s finally found some semblance of happiness. Though he still grieved the loss of his father every day, Sofia’s company made the days (and nights) less cumbersome.

She was someone that he felt he could confide in about anything and she didn’t judge him like everyone else on the island. Sofia was his peace in the chaos that disrupted his daily life, giving him something to look forward to every day.

Sofia wiped at her face again, swallowing down the thick lump of emotions that barred in her throat. “I heard you,” She says, though in a near whisper because her voice is so scratched and dry from all the crying that it descended into a hoarse rasp.

“Wha—?”

“At the country club. I heard you,” She repeats, exhaling a trembling breath. “I heard how you, Topper and Ruthie all stood around talking about me like I was nothing. How you said you’d never be with a pogue,” She abhors, reciting his words with the same vitriolic disgust that he’d used.

Her breath catches in her throat and she chokes on a sob. She felt so weak crying like this, especially with Rafe on the other side of the door only inches away. She covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to stifle the noise.

But Rafe does hear it; every sniffle and sob falls audibly to his ears and it breaks his heart as he listened. He leans his forehead against her bedroom door and closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, inwardly cursing himself out for making such a stupid remark.

When he said that it was solely out of him wanting to change the subject. He didn’t like Ruthie or Topper in his business and he certainly didn’t like them talking about Sofia in any way. He spoke impulsively without thinking, not knowing that his words would come back to haunt him.

But the truth is, he didn’t see Sofia as a pogue. At least, not in the same sense as his sister or her friends, and he certainly didn’t perceive her as less than compared to him in any way. Sofia had everything that Rafe wished he had; a stable, loving family that genuinely cared about her, friends and a life that wasn’t dysfunctional.

He was envious of her, that she had people to come back home to or that would call to check up on her to ask where she was if she stayed out too late. He never had that in his life, even when his father was alive.

So, yeah, his relationship with Sofia was sacred to him. It meant something to him. It meant everything to him. And he wanted to protect that from Topper, Ruthie, or any other kook that had an opinion on who he slept with.

“Sof,” Rafe begs, his voice wrecked with remorse. “I didn’t mean—”

She didn’t need to hear any apologies, the damage was already done and now she finally knows the truth of how he sees her. “Just go away and leave me alone.”

“Baby, please, I—”

“Leave, Rafe. I don’t ever want to see you again,” She says with a finality that has him sighing heavily in defeat as he nodded and pushed himself off of the door. He didn’t want to leave, but he knew that he had to respect her wishes.

He glanced solemnly at her door before eventually turning around and walking away.

Leave it to him to ruin the best thing that’s ever happen to him.

…

She’s done crying.

(At least that’s what she tells herself after she cries another twenty minutes after she leaves.) But when she drains her body dry of tears, she comes to the conclusion that she’s done with Rafe Cameron. He didn’t deserve her tears or her; he’d done nothing but prove himself to be the asshole that everyone warned her about that she was too foolish to see for herself but her vision’s clear now.

She won’t lie and say that all of her feelings had suddenly dissipated, because it wasn’t that easy to fall out of love with someone, but she knew that with time she could adjust to a life without him just as she did before.

She’s at work, bustling around between tables and prepping drinks when she sees him. Thankfully, he wasn’t in her section but he was still seated close enough to be in her view. Almost as if he felt her gaze, Rafe’s eyes look up and met hers across the room. Sofia’s heart flutters (annoyingly much to her dismay) when she looks at him. She bites on her lip and hurriedly pried her eyes away from his, shaking her head as she reminded herself of Rafe’s hurtful words.

It’s only been a few days since she ended things with him, but admittedly it was harder than she imagined. She missed Rafe. They’d gotten so much closer over the past year and a half that there wasn’t a day that she could remember where they weren’t together.

But she couldn’t fawn back into old habits. Because as much as she missed him, the way he’d degraded her was a solemn reminder for her to stay away from him.

And she has every intention of doing so.

Turning away from Rafe and facing the bar again, she wipes down the countertop with her cloth making sure the smooth surface was clean. “Sof?” Her body tenses at the way her name falls softly from his lips.

There’d been so many times before that he’d said it just like this; majority of those times were in the seclusion of his bed as they laid there naked beneath the sheets with her head tucked on his chest and his fingers caressing her skin.

He always murmured her name like a litany, always soft and sweet to her ears like a term of endearment that was meant solely for him.

Sofia keeps her back turned towards him, busying herself as she worked. She refused to acknowledge him.

Rafe felt depleted at Sofia’s avoidance and ignoring of him. All week he’s tried to amend for his mistake through attempted calls and text messages, but the efforts were futile because none of them had gone through.

All he wanted was a chance to explain himself. But she wouldn’t look at him let alone talk to him so he was reduced to showing up at her job to force her acknowledgement.

It’s only been a few days since she broke up with him but he’s been miserable ever since; practically a prisoner to his insomnia as he laid awake in bed staring vacantly at the ceiling with the emptiness of where Sofia usually slept tormenting him. He knew that she said she didn’t want to see him again, but he couldn’t stay away.

How did she expect him to do that?

This probably wasn’t the most appropriate setting to try to get her attention, but it was the only thing that he could think of.

He was desperate.

“Sof, look, I know that what you heard—”

Before he has the chance to continue his explanation, Sofia’s turning around to look at him. Her face is devoid of any mirthful emotion. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cameron but I have to work. There are other customers who I need to tend to so unless you’re ordering another drink I don’t think there’s anything left for us to discuss,” She says, raising a brow and folding her arms across her chest as she waited for his response.

Mr. Cameron. He knows that she’s supposed to acknowledge all the customers with such formalities, but hearing her say it to him in such a displeased way admittedly sombered him. Looking around, he sees only a few people sat at the bar. They were all too busy to overhear their conversation. But truthfully, he didn’t care who was there to witness him begging for her forgiveness.

Rafe licks his lips as he nervously writhed his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say all of that. I was being stupid.”

“Something that we both agree on,” She remarks, turning away from him to continue working.

“I just want you to know—”

“Look,” Sofia exasperates as she turns around to face him again. “I’m working, okay? I can’t afford to have you talking to me and distracting me. Some of us actually need jobs to live,”

Rafe nods in a sombered understanding, “Right. Sorry,” he says before walking off, conceding to her pleads.

…

She drives down to the beach for a quiet day to herself; bringing a book and a packed lunch with her. It’d been a long work week and all she desired was a day of peace and relaxation. Grabbing her book, Sofia spreads her beach towel across the sand then makes her perch atop of it.

She grabs her book, Little Women and opens up the first page as she begins to read.

She’s about midway through the first few chapters when she hears a loud noise interrupting her solitude. Looking up, Sofia notices a flock of cars suddenly parked along the shoreline. Shielding her hand over her eyes, she recognizes Topper’s truck—seeing him, Ruthie, Kelce and another car full of kooks all gathered around pulling their gear from the trunks.

So much for a relaxing morning, she resigns.

Looking over, she sees Rafe clamber into her view. Unlike the rest of them who anticipated riding the high swell of the water, he lingered behind, idly sipping on his bottle of beer.

Sofia only keeps her gaze on him for a brief moment before she’s hurriedly looking away. Her eyes look farther right; where she notices Sarah and her friends who stood a few feet away from Topper and the kooks. She knew with their shared history that this would be an evening far from relaxing.

Sofia decided to not let the interrupting ruin her day. So, she reverted her attention back on her book and kept reading, getting lost in the chemistry between Jo and Teddy.

…

All she hears is the loud purr of an engine roaring. Looking up from her book, she sees Topper’s truck speeding down the beach approaching the other side where Sarah and her friends were. Furrowing her brows in confusion, Sofia stands to her feet to get a better view.

She didn’t know exactly what was going on but she could tell by Kiara’s frantic pleads and her hands waving in the air and the fact that Topper’s truck did not stop as it got closer that whoever was driving had intended plans of hitting her.

Petrified by this realization, Sofia absentmindedly set her book aside so that she’s able to run down to the beach where the kooks were. “What the hell is Topper doing?” She asks, coming to a stop as she stood beside Rafe.

He looks visibly surprised by her presence and the fact that she was actually talking to him. “It’s not him driving. It’s Ruthie,” He explains and Sofia resists the urge to roll her eyes because of course it’s her that’s behind this chaos. She hasn’t known Ruthie for that long, but based off of the limited amount of time that she has Sofia’s judgment of her wasn’t held in high regard.

She sees the truck nearly avoid hitting the pogues, coming to an abrupt stop before circling back around. “Someone needs to stop her. She’s going to hit them.”

Behind her, she hears Kelce kiss his tongue against his teeth in a reproachful manner. “Relax, Ruthie’s not going to do anything. But if she did, a few less pogues running around on our island wouldn’t be such a bad thing,”

And it disgusts Sofia hearing him talk with such disregard about them because she knows that if it weren’t for her previous affiliation with Rafe, they’d have the same feelings about her. She looks over at Rafe who says nothing, only keeps his gaze narrowed in on his sister who falls to her knees beside Kiara in the sand.

“There’s a hatch!” She hears Kiara bellow for the fifth time and Sofia’s heart drops when she sees the tires of the truck run through the pathway over the hatch of turtles.

She didn’t know how someone could be so evil and apathetic but Ruthie seemed to revel in her hateful behavior, laughing when she climbed out of the truck and engaging in the gossiping conversation with the rest of her friends.

There was something seriously wrong with these people. She couldn’t believe that these were people that she envied; for so long she wished she had their luxurious lives but now she realized that when people like that have a lot of money and power they become completely desensitized to humanity.

She wanted them to like her, she wanted to fit into their lives even if it was just by proxy.

But now? Sofia’s disgusted by them. And she didn’t want to be affiliated with them in any way.

“Wait. Wait, hey, Sof,” She ignored Rafe’s beckon as she continued back to the spot where she was previously sitting at. She gathered her things together, shoving everything back inside of her tote bag.

She snatches her arm out of his reach when he grabs her wrist. He raises his hand in the air defensively, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Rafe careens, frowning despondently at her dismissal.

“Yo, Rafe!” They both turn their heads at the sound of Topper’s voice. He leans out the window of the passengers side, looking stupidly smug as ever. “We’re going back to my house for a party. You comin’?” He offers, his eyes briefly wander over Sofia like he’s hoping that if Rafe does accept the invitation that he doesn’t bring her along.

He didn’t have to worry about that. Sofia didn’t want to be near him or any of those kooks ever again.

Rafe pauses, shifting his gaze between the two of them before eventually responding, “Nah. You guys go ahead,” that admittedly surprises Sofia.

Ruthie scoffs from the driver’s seat, rolling her eyes as she shrugged. “Whatever. Your loss!” She pulls the truck out of the sand and back into the leveled road, speeding away.

When he turns back to Sofia, he gives her a sheepish expression. “I know that you probably hate me, but you have to believe me when I say I didn’t mean anything that I said that day, Sof.”

Sofia rolls her eyes before stepping around him. She didn’t feel like listening to another meaningless apology.

“So that’s it? You’re just never going to speak to me again? I try to apologize and you can’t even look at me?” She hears the pain weighing heavily in his voice at her rejection. She would be lying if she said that it didn’t affect her.

But she doesn’t respond. Doesn’t turn around to look at him. She only hefts the strap of her bag further over her shoulder and continues walking towards her car.

…

“She hates me,” Rafe murmurs, his words are halfway slurred as he brings the bottle of beer up to his mouth and chugs down another swallow. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before sluggishly clambering to his feet. “She fucking hates me,” He laughs wryly, feeling his throat click as tears gathered in the back of his pupils. “And I can’t even blame her. I fucking hate myself too,” He groans, wearily running his hand over his face.

He knows that Sofia’s too good for him. Someone like him didn’t deserve happiness, not after everything that he’s done. But he still held on to the belief that maybe he could have it. Being with Sofia gave him that hope.

He felt different with her. She was changing him for the better. He’d even started envisioning an actual life together with her; of them being together and having something to call their own.

Sofia was the girl that he always dreamed of. She became everything to him over this past year, making him want to change the error of his old ways and be good not only for himself but for her. He knows that it probably wasn’t healthy, his need and dependency on her, but he couldn’t help it. He was in love. And all he wanted was for her to look at him the way that she used to.

Now? Now she can’t even look at him and when she does, it’s in disgust. And it breaks Rafe’s heart knowing that he hurt the one person that he cared about most in this world.

You’re alone again. His mind mocks him torturously, reminding him of his loss. He curls his hands in fists and hold them against his head, trying to block out the noise. She left you. She was too good for you. You didn’t deserve her.

“I know!” He exclaims, yelling into the void of his quiet house.

read more on ao3!(x) it’s like 17k 😭💀

[ryssbelle]

Let Wild feel his feelings: The Essay~

So yesterday at 1 am I made this post I prefaced this post with the phrase: "Can we please let Wild experience emotions without calling him sus." In that post I said I would write an essay explaining not only why I said that, but why I think the Wild is Dink theory is most likely false.

Also I say this at the end but let me preface this is all in good fun, I'm not trying to attack anyone or say they're terrible or awful for believing the theory, and yes I do poke fun but it's all out of love. Go ahead and have your thoughts and feelings just like Wild has his, and make the content you wanna see in the world.

Take this with a grain of salt and have fun.

@thunderpetal @aspen-of-the-gentry @an-error @knine-nights

And with that, This is the Essay:

Part 1: The Theory

For those of you who do not know or have not been in the loop starting from about Sunset Part 5 there has been a theory that Wild, aka the Hero of the Wild, has been infected or possessed by Dink, aka Dark Link, the main villain of Linked Universe. Let's go over the supporting evidence in the next parts we will reexamine the evidence under the counter argument:

The Inciting Panel:

These are the panels that first sparked the debate, after defeating the massive dark oozy creature, Wild is seen rubbing his face, and it is theorized a little bit of Dink was in his eye and is now in his system. You could argue he is just rubbing his cheek and not his eye, but we're not here to argue at this stage of the Essay.

Using my powers of MS Paint Zoom, I zoomed in closely to look at Wilds face before the wipe:

You can see an off colored patch of shading, now one could call this shading, but one could also call this, a surprisingly pale splotch of Dink.

Continuing with the evidence:

He run:

Instead of talking his feelings, he run away, this is highly unusual because-

As you can see on this page he emerges from no where, as if he knew where they'd be, as if he could track them, as if he were a trained survivalist who has learned to track people and things when in unfamiliar places.. Or perhaps it is because he is Dink, following the dark scent of the magic evil he put on Twi. How else could he track them, the known survivalist who can track things.

And shortly after this- Wild experiences- an emotion

Denial and Anger, two of the 5 stages of grief, this is unusual because the only acceptable stages of grief are depression and acceptance, only a crazed lunatic hell bent on the destruction of our heroes would act in such a fashion to the colorful man child!

(I realize I am poking fun a bit, but just know it's out of love, its all /j /nm)

For this next piece of evidence I'd like you to reference or have to the side the entirety of Sunset Part 8 for which I have linked.

The entire page starts with Four, the colorful hero of the four sword, splitting for the first time in front of Wild, and really for the first time in front of any of the chain. The entire ensuing pages consist of an argument between all the Colors as they fight against one another Wild desperately asking for answers as to what in the world is happening while the weight of his mentor/brother's condition and his past failures weigh on his heart and shoulders. With the continued yelling Wild gets frustrated grabbing his head his past failures coming to mind he throws down his sword as he laments his inability to protect those he cares about in the moment, getting chastised by the colors before storming off, reminded of his fallen comrades.

Obviously I don't have to tell you how this is related to Dink

We then broach our final piece of evidence in the most recent comic:

After a pat on the back from the group leader and a thank you Wild leaves with a 'sinister' grin on his face, covered in shadows with Four looking at him suspiciously.

All of this culminates in the conclusion:

Part 2: Wild is not Dink.

Now Let us reexamine the Evidence from a counter perspective, I know I was kind of making fun when showing the supporting evidence and in this section you will see why. Let us begin with the first piece of evidence.

The Inciting Panel and the splotch:

After doing a sick backflip, freezing time, and whacking a giant metal creature 6000 times this man is SWEATING, he's wiping the sweat from his cheek, maybe even a tear, have you ever done any kind of excessive activity, it is tiring and makes everything feel awful and he's just done that 4 times over basically. The Splotch? Thats shading and line thickness.

Evidence 2:

He runaway

At this point it's been somewhat established that Wild does seem to like to keep to himself, not only that War's knows the identity of the wolf that sticks near Wild, he is aware of their connection and aware of how Wild must be feeling now that one of the people he's closest two is in bad condition, so Wild storming off while Wind dwells on said condition is not something unusual for him nor any of the chain.

Plus War's knows more than anyone what this situation is like, he more than likely had to deal with it 100 times over in the war, as friends and comrades fell one by one in the fight against evil, and knows better than anyone that engaging Wild in this state would lead to an emotional explosion on both ends which leads us to-

Sunset part 7 and 8:

Wild, someone who is close to those who know the location of the village and is used to at least finding a safe place in an unfamiliar environment due to waking up without memories 100 years in the future and needing to explore and find safe places on his own, walks into frame from a random alley. This alley is also one of the places where Wild is replaced with Dink in some theories, but I will address that in part 3

Now I have actually addressed Wilds actions in these next few panels before believe it or not while disproving this theory!

I've added the panels from part 8 as well to help with this part of the discussion, but as I said in presenting the evidence:

Wild is in grief Twilight may not be dead yet but he is dying Wild is being told that he's dying, and Wild doesn't want to believe it. Strange right? That the man who lost everyone he held dear at the ripe age of seventeen, who saw his brother- his mentors legacy already in the divine wolf that guided him, would be upset that that same wolf, that same man who now not only guided the wild child on his original journey, but guides him now, laughs with him, and fights by his side, that this man he now calls his brother is laying upstairs dying while he sits there unable to do anything. Who wouldn't be upset?

And maybe you don't think you're saying that he can't be upset, but by using the anger he feels at not being able to help, by using his denial in watching yet another friend die while he is there unable to help as evidence, as a way to say, that this man is possessed by Dink, is invalidating any other reaction to this kind of grief. It sends the message that in fiction people are not allowed to experience any other kind of reaction other than sadness, than acceptance. You either accept that he's dying or you cry that it's happening and neither of those are invalid either but those aren't the only reactions it is the five stages of grief for a reason.

Not only is Wild grieving, so is Four, they are both exploding in anger, exploding in denial and sadness, both confused both hurt, which leads us to the final piece of evidence to rebut:

After giving a rousing speech which invigorates everyone and gives them back a smidge of hope and courage, Wild walks off, the light of the window facing his back as he walks into the dark hallway as Four eyes him.

What do I think is happening here? Wild tired, but he's hopeful, he's momentarily content, but he is still most likely hurt, his mind is still full and racing, his heart still heavy, but now he is with his brothers and he has hope.

Why is Four looking at him like that? Well for one Wild pushed him around, yelled at him, and had a breakdown in from of him not 20 minutes ago, but Four, in four separate forms, had also yelled at, chastised, and broke down in front of him.

So what do I think will happen? Most likely, a real discussion about the prior events, and an apology from both sides.

They're heroes of courage, but they're also Human (and ye they're Hylian but they're regarded as human as well)

And as a side note, if Jojo planned to have it revealed that Wild was in fact Dink in disguise and or possessed by Dink, why give him a whole chapter to himself just to think, to regroup, and to calm down? Why not have that as a precursor, have that as a hint, showing his dark turn? Why have him find hope and come to terms with the situation so that he could fix it and help his brother if he was in fact evil and was aiming for the heroes downfall?

It wouldn't make sense as an author not to have his solo chapter as foreshadowing unless Wild isn't Dink.

Now to part 3: Dink

Here we examine Dink himself as he appears in the Linked Universe comic, not just when he appears, but how and why.

Now to start his first appearance isn't really as himself but as infected blood, which is black in color and causes increased strength and aggression in monsters that wouldn't normally be as strong or aggressive as they are

Well it's more of a purple actually but you get the point.

Possession would be evident if he was indeed possessed.

Now for Dink posing as Wild.. Thats also a no

in the comic any disguise Dink has takes on the color scheme of the original dark Link, which is, charcoal skin and blood red eyes, this goes for the games as well, so if it was Dink posing as Wild it wouldn't at all look like Wild at least in color scheme.

Now lets get to Dink's motives:

So far his motives are pretty simple, destroy the chain, kill them, stab them, maybe bite them, he hasn't been trying to steal them or trick them he just wants them to suffer. If he were to somehow possess or disguise himself as Wild why not, I don't know, stab them as Wild, Wild will then be on the hook for it, so not only will Twi be dying (or dead if he stabbed Twi again), but someone else could be hurt, and they'd think they'd have a traitor in their midst.

Dink doesn't seem to be one to make elaborate plans as we've seen so far his plan is just "I will hit it, oh it didn't die..... I WILL HIT IT AGAIN!!"

also im not counting Twi's coma dream as a dark link appearance

Though @kr4zykoala did point something out to me yesterday, there is one person who is devious and elaborate and would def disguise himself as someone else for the long haul...

This twink ^^^^^

In conclusion...

Wild is not Dink, he's just grieving, also remember that time Wind was apparently Dink too?

In any case this is mostly in good fun, you all can have your theories but I am not at all convinced on Wild being Dink, if you gotta stretch the truth to make it work then it's not that great of a theory tho it does make excellent fanfiction if you do it right, apparently @sheepiemenace has one in the works for Wind and its allegedly excellent

anyway take what I say with a grain of salt and have fun!

[phlve]

Naranjo Subtype Descriptions — 4

so4 / E4 Social: Shame

The contrasts between the types of character four are the most striking, since their different subtypes seem more differentiated than in the other passions. When I explain this topic in Spanish, I usually say that there are "sufferers, suffered and insufferable." The sufferers are the social fours.

The social E4 is a person who laments too much, is very tearful and often puts himself in the role of victim. In DSM-IV, a category of person given to self-sabotage is suggested. The characteristic pointed out by Ichazo for this character is shame, which descriptively seems to me to be a success but does not manage to describe a neurotic need. Certainly, these are people who undervalue themselves, and therefore feel less than others. But how do you explain why these people are so given to blaming themselves and comparing themselves unfavorably with others?

The answer, it seems to me, is found in what Melanie Klein called the depressive position, through which the child prefers to blame himself instead of venting his rage against the mother, whom he excessively needs. In a similar way, we can consider that the social E4 is one that prefers to swallow its own poison instead of externalizing it to loved ones; he has learned to introject his aggression in view of an exaggerated affective dependence.

sp4 / E4 Conservation: Tenacity

Different from "sufferer" (E4 social) and "insufferable" (E4 sexual) is what in Spanish is called "suffered", an expression that speaks of a capacity for self-frustration and endurance.

Instead of being an overly tearful person, the sufferer is one who does not complain and avoids crying in front of others, and who has learned to swallow a lot and bear pain without blinking.

How could we explain this in terms of motivation? What necessity can push a person to become a masochist? It's kind of like saying to a parent or loved one: "You see I'm not complaining? Do you love me now? You see what a good boy, what a good girl I am?"

The E4 conservation aims to make virtue of resistance to frustration. Many times I have explained it with an anecdote of Lawrence of Arabia, according to the famous film, which shows him in an office in Cairo lighting someone's cigarette and then putting out the match with his fingers. Someone asks him in surprise: "what are you doing?" And he explains that, in this way, he trains to endure pain. He had developed from childhood this supposed virtue of stoically bearing pain, and it surely served him during his exploits, which earned him the fame of a great hero, since not even among the Arabs had anyone been able to resist in such a way the harshness of the desert.

In E4 conservation, enduring is a passion, but how to explain it? I think the key is in the introjection of voracity. The visible envy that presents the sexual E4 as a demanding and insistent aggressive oral, here becomes a counter-envy directed against the person himself, now in the form of a self-demand that is also self-devouring.

sx4 / E4 Sexual: Hate

If the social E4 suffers more than the other subtypes by feeling guilty about any desire, the sexual E4 turns against shame by becoming shameless in order to give satisfaction to its intense desires. Therefore, even if it is embarrassing, it will knock on every possible door. He becomes insistent, even against frustrations, as if he thinks according to the saying that it is the baby that cries the most that nurses the best. The more I complain, the more I'm going to get, he seems to think. Only this strategy, which works well in childhood, no longer works so well in adult life. People who are too insistent, demanding, demanding, tend to be annoying and be rejected, and thus their vicious circle arises, in which rejection leads to protest and protest to rejection.

The name Ichazo gave to the characteristic passion of sexual E4 was hate, which is descriptively appropriate for these expressive people about their anger. But this may not sufficiently explain their motivation, so it seems better to talk about competition, or competitiveness.

We could characterize the envy of the sexual subtype as an aggressive oral envy, which bites. Psychoanalysis speaks of "cannibalistic" impulses. It is not only desired, but it is desired with anger. This is the sin of Cain - our predecessor: "I envy you and therefore I kill you." I envy the rich, and start a revolution. I envy your intellectual superiority, and for that I will cut off your head (then ... high!) And, when we talk about cutting off heads, we are talking about invalidation, contempt, the aggression that is expressed in the devaluation of the enviable - as in the case of the fox and the supposedly green grapes.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Do you have any headcanons for jackunzel?

I have!!! So very many!!! And at last, I have a place to put all of them!!!

I'm sorry this took so long Anon, it took me a while to put together all the different ones I have from all my fics/fic concepts. I thought about these guys a LOT back in the day lol

SO without further ado, here they are!!! Sorted into general categories like my Moanida headcanons.

General

I’ve seen a couple fics where Jack is written ADHD-coded and honestly...I see it???? I imagine Rapunzel is the only one who has learned to roll with and not be frustrated by his criminally short attention span (with the exception of Anna, maybe! XD). I also like to think Jack tends to prefer visual mediums of art like paintings (or movies, in a modern AU), but Rapunzel manages to get him into reading!!! He does, however, lament about how much of a “nerd” this makes him.

Jack has dealt with pretty severe depression and loneliness for 300-straight years (or just straight lifelong clinical depression and constant platonic rejection in a modern AU), and Rapunzel is highkey the only one of Jack’s friends who really GETS how to deal with it. Merida and Hiccup do the best they can, but Merida tends to get frustrated when even the wackiest of her shenanigans can’t snap him out of a particularly bad depressive funk, and Hiccup just gets anxious and stressed because there’s not really any logical process or solution to making someone...not depressed with abandonment issues and such. Punz, meanwhile, knows what it’s like to be lonely and to be rejected (just look at what she has to go through with her mom!), and how sometimes you just need to...be there. Not try to cheer him up, but just be a shoulder to cry on and keep him company and show him he’s not alone while he works through his shit. She also is always there to validate how he’s feeling and is more than happy to help cook him a healthy meal if he’s feeling too down to make himself food.

Jack is the THE most touch-starved boi (300 years of being invisible and having the only people you can interact with viewing you with mild annoyance will do that to ya) and Rapunzel is all too happy to remedy this!!! Being a generally extremely physically affectionate person and giving bear hugs to rival actual bears, they’re a match made in heaven (LITERALLY practically, with the sun-moon symbolism lmao). Rapunzel is basically always touching him, even before they formally get together. She gives him hugs (especially surprise hugs from behind!), arm pats, arm swats when he’s being annoying, and just generally likes to grab his arm and excitedly yank him around. He really has no idea what to make of this at first, considering he hasn’t been touched regularly for 300-odd years, but once he gets used to it, he loves it. He had absolutely no idea how touch-starved he was until he found someone all too happy to touch him. He gets little warm tingles wherever she touches him and it takes him a long-ass time to realize it’s because he has a crush on her and not just because he likes physical affection lmao

They do art together!!! Jack can’t really draw concrete things for shit, so what they’ll typically do is Jack will make some really thin, abstract frost designs on a canvas and then Rapunzel’ll paint over them and kinda color them in. Then when the ice melts, it makes kind of a cool, watercolor-esque type deal! They have several of these bad boys hung up in their room. Rapunzel always gives Jack far more credit than he deserves, claiming he did 80% of the work.

She draws on him. A lot. Like she’s near constantly painting on his arm or doodling all over him with a pen. His pale-ass skin makes for a wonderful human canvas, honestly. Jack allows it because feeling repetitive brushstrokes/penstrokes on his skin is surprisingly relaxing, and he has the totally-not-biased opinion that his girlfriend Rapunzel Corona has the prettiest art in the world. Jack’s heavily-tatted friend Aster Bunnymund constantly teases him about these body drawings, and Jack always claps back with “you’re just jealous that I can get better body art than your edgy garbage for FREE”

These two are THE winter activities couple, and try to cram so many into every December, January, and February that it’s almost obnoxious. They have sledded down every hill in town!!! They have visited every single ice rink!!! They have tried every hot chocolate flavor!!! Snow forts? Nay--these two built full-on snow CASTLES and proceeded to battle one another in a snowball fight so Extra that local film students sneakily taped the entire thing and turned it in as their final project! Jack has absolutely made excessive and theatrical snowman displays on par with Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes, and will not apologize for it. Rapunzel often tries to Lighten The Mood by decorating various decapitated or exploding snowmen with dried flowers and little pine boughs and such.

They also really love to just relax by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa after a long, tiring day of playing around in the snow. Jack’s family has a really good homemade hot cocoa recipe, and they love just sitting by the fire drinking it while Jack (rather theatrically) tells stories. Rapunzel’s always acknowledged that Jack’s the one with a gift for storytelling while she tends to just ramble on and on, so she’s more than happy to just listen for a little while.

Rapunzel has truly superb baking skills, and many a time she has tried to make a Pinterest recipe and it comes out far better than it really has any business to. Other times, she bakes creations that are barely recognizable as pastries. A couple times she’s invited Jack to help, but this usually ends with sugar exploding all over the kitchen or flour ending up on every conceivable surface. Regardless, Rapunzel’s creations almost always taste amazing, and she’s always more than happy to bake cookies, cupcakes, or little mini-pies for Jack. Jack, notorious sugar fiend that he is, is absolutely never going to say no. Once he’s done with Rapunzel’s pastries, it’s a wonder there’s anything left for anyone else.

Rapunzel once attempted to bake Jack a mint chocolate chip ice cream cake for his birthday. It was a bona-fide disaster--the cake batter didn’t solidify all the way, the ice cream all melted, and the snowflake designs in the frosting got smudgy and sad-looking. Jack, upon seeing this, re-ice-creamed the ice cream (is that something he can do with his powers? I’m deeming it is) and proceeded to love the cake anyway. He even once attempted to bake an even worse cake to make Punz feel good by comparison.

Rapunzel and Jack’s sister Emma (yes I know her official name is Mary or something but I’ve been calling her Emma for years...I can’t UNknow her as Emma, you feel?) are ABSOLUTE BESTIES! They make each other flower crowns!!! Rapunzel has known Emma practically since she was born and probably has helped Jack read her fairy tales and stories!!! I also like to think that Emma lowkey idolizes Punzel a bit and just constantly roasts her brother about how very out of his league Punz is and how she could do MUCH better if she wanted. Jack is like “yeah yeah I know!!! Stop reminding me how lame I am compared to my girlfriend!!!” and Emma is just like “No :)”

Rapunzel’s hair glows when she orgasms. Also, they definitely use some kind of snow/iceplay during...uh...physical intimacy. It probably creates literal steam. TMI maybe but COME ON YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT

I totally see them as being the kind of couple who like to take random city adventures, either by Jack flying Rapunzel around or in one of their cars, in a modern AU. Like they’d wanna explore every last corner of their little world that they could--even the dingy parts!!! I also think they’d love to hang out at random cafes and just people-watch. Although Jack is certainly not above repeating especially ridiculous things he hears strangers say in a mocking tone of voice XD It cracks Punz up basically every time. It’s like: Some random stranger a few tables away: They didn’t even put enough mayonnaise on my sandwich! Jack, excessively: tHeY dIdN’t EvEn PuT eNoUgH mAyOnNaIsE oN mY sAnDwIcH

They both love astronomy!!! And bond over this!!! I mean, come ON, Rapunzel CHARTED THE FREAKING STARS as a young teen, and Jack can not only FLY, but also spent YEARS asking the moon for answers and such...no way he didn’t gain at least a little appreciation for the night sky throughout all that??? Anyways, they love stargazing together!!! And Jack frequently muses about black holes and quasars and nebulous dust clouds and alien planets and the like! Rapunzel knows all the constellations and frequently teaches Jack random astronomy fun facts, and he’s just always so impressed by how much she knows <3

Childhood Friends AU

Besties growing up for sure!!! I can see them being neighbors and just randomly going to each other’s houses and climbing in the windows to sneak up and surprise the other. Jack definitely did this more often, and he may or may not have frequently snuck up on Punzel to scare the poor girl in her own home.

There’s a big tree outside Rapunzel’s bedroom window that Jack would often climb to get into her room. He definitely broke a few bones in their youth because he often got so excited to see her that he climbed the tree like...recklessly fast and fell out of it lmao

Jack had a planet-sized crush on Punzel from the jump, but convinced himself pretty early on that she was very much out of his league and he had no chance with her. Rapunzel’s feelings were more slow-growing (she was a bit of a late bloomer romantically and didn’t have a lot of hardcore crushes during her childhood), and really started to cement in their preteen years. Jack’s been flirting with Rapunzel pretty heavily their entire lives, but always plays it off as a joke because he’s too insecure to tell her he’s actually into her. Rapunzel, meanwhile, thinks it actually is a joke and she is thus in the friendzone too XD

I totally see them making a Childhood Marriage Pact, but in more of a way like “oh cool, if we get married we can be ROOMMATES??? And raise a DOG TOGETHER??? COOL, LET’S DO IT!” and they don’t realize it’s like...a romantic thing XD They just think it’s Really Intense Upgraded Friendship. Mega Bestfriendship, if you will.

Modern/High School AU

Theater kid Jack!!! Theater kid Jack!!! (I mean...look at that little performance he was putting on with the deer antlers in his memories, the kid CLEARLY enjoys theatrics) And Rapunzel comes to absolutely all of his shows!!! And claps and cheers the loudest at the end!!!

In an AU where they aren’t childhood friends, I can totally see Rapunzel first meeting Jack because he’s in a school play (or dicking around and being a little shit in one of her classes--one of the two XD) and then getting into theater to impress him because Jack likes it and it sounds fun! I don’t think she’d score any huge roles, but I can see her really enjoying playing a couple small parts and maybe doing something like makeup crew on the side.

On that note, I can see Punz having some kind of makeup tutorial channel on YouTube and using Jack as her guinea pig to test new styles on XD Jack, for his part, totally owns it and poses dramatically at the end of every video when the makeup’s done. Hiccup makes fun of him for this, but Jack’s like “You’re just jealous because I’m prettier than you”

Jack is a closet weaboo. He pretends like he only watches anime to make fun of it, but he secretly unironically enjoys it. His friends all know that he likes to get really high and watch especially weird anime for the trippy experience--what they don’t know is that he also sometimes watches them sober. Rapunzel is the only one who knows this, but she’ll never tell.

Jack constantly mocks and teases Hiccup for how much of a “nerd” he is by being addicted to video games...despite him also being addicted to video games. Rapunzel likes to watch Jack game and cheer him on aggressively! She tries her hand at a few of his games. She’s pretty not great at the shooter ones, and they tend to stress her out more than anything, but she’s surprisingly amazing at the more plot-driven, puzzle-centered ones. Jack has been known to whinily call his girlfriend when he’s playing a particularly hard puzzle game and can’t figure out how to progress XD She just sighs, and comes over and figures out whatever it is he’s stuck on in all of 5 minutes.

Rapunzel is in their school’s art club. Jack goes to every single last one of their exhibitions and acts like Frank Reynolds. just just dramatically points to all the other paintings in the gallery like “BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! DERIVATIVE! NOW THAT...” *dramatically turns to Rapunzel’s art* “NOW THAT I LOVE. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE!” Rapunzel finds this humiliating yet flattering.

They paint each other’s nails!!! Jack is a simple man, and just does colors, while Rapunzel does full-on mini designs and pictures on Jack’s nails--and damn, is she good. She has a whole Insta page where she puts her nail art, but absolutely no one knows her hand model is Jack (mainly because, of course, he has to wash the designs off before going out in public because he’s an insecure boi XD). Rapunzel is absolutely the only one who knows Jack enjoys having pretty nails!

Sometimes they swap hoodies! Jack insists it’s solely For The Memes, but secretly he just likes the color pink and likes having an excuse to wear it. Of course, he would never admit this aloud to a single soul--not even Punzel. Rapunzel, nonetheless, figures it out eventually, because she’s not an idiot. She figures he’s too stubborn to admit it, so she just starts subtly wearing more pink around him so he gets to see it more <3

In general Jack actually has kind of an ultra-feminine streak, BUT being a typical insecure teenage boy, he denies it vehemently and sometimes acts overly macho to try and compensate. Rapunzel is basically the only person he’s felt comfortable showing his more “girly” side to. Merida would just make fun of him, Hiccup would probably just make snarky remarks, and even Anna is too much of a dudebro to really like...get it. Rapunzel, however, has never been anything but supportive and understanding, and Jack loves her so, so much for it <3

I kinda love the idea of them both dyeing their hair in a modern AU (with brown being their natural color and Jack dyeing white and Punzel dyeing blonde), and sharing hair-dyeing and hair-bleaching tips!!! Jack definitely tries to get Rapunzel to bleach her own hair (like he DEFINITELY does, let’s be real) to save on salon bills. He’s tried to get her to let him bleach it, but she doesn’t trust him not to completely fry and ruin her hair XD

They go REALLY GODDAMN HARD with Christmas/Yule decorations. Like. I imagine if they had a house together they’d have at least 20 inflatable reindeer, a full-on animatronic singing Santa on the roof, a maze in their front lawn constructed entirely of giant plastic candy canes and lawn flamingos in elf hats (Rapunzel’s idea), and their walls basically covered from ground to chimney with flashing Christmas lights. They do NOT mess around. Traffic gets bad in their neighborhood around the holidays because people come from all over town to see their extra-ass display.

Jack is OBSESSED with junk food. Also a sugar junkie far beyond the point of all reasonability. Like. This child will eat 5 party-size bags of chips, 12 cookies, and 3 chocolate bars in one sitting if left unattended. While Rapunzel is flattered that Jack is always down to eat her baked goods, she is slightly concerned that Jack pretty much inhales sugar and fat nonstop every chance he gets. She tries to get him to eat healthier, to little avail. The only time it really works is if she herself cooks for him--Punz has been known to make a tasty, nutritious meal or two!

Jack’s natural state of existing is Lazy As Hell, and honestly the only reason he’s as skinny as he is is because of Outrageously High Teenage Boy Metabolism (I’m sorry, but 90% of Jock Jack headcanons are just...incorrect??? HE IS A TWIG, HE CANNOT PLAY FOOTBALL). Rapunzel tries to set up a fitness program for him, as does Merida, but 90% of the time all he does is bitch about it XD He sometimes can be persuaded to go hiking with Rapunzel or Hiccup though!!! They know an outrageous amount about the local wildlife, so that makes it significantly more entertaining.

Jack knows how to skateboard!!! He tried to teach Rapunzel one time. It did not go well. Rapunzel sustained a few injuries. Mavis, a local skateboarding legend, is not above lightly mocking her for this from time to time.

Jack snowboards too!!! He is under the impression this makes him incredibly cool. He once invited Rapunzel along on a family ski/snowboard trip when they first started dating, and endlessly tried to show off to her. He ended up getting a mouthful of snow 90% of the time because he really isn’t as good as he thinks he is.

(Edited to be easier to read!!! It was kind of a mess before ^^;)

[kaile-hultner]

Nihilism is so easy, which is why we need to kill it

(I initially published this here a couple weeks ago.)

So last night it dawned on me that, after over two years of being relatively symptom-free, my depression snuck back up on me and has taken over. It’s still pretty mild in comparison to other times I’ve been stuck in the hole, but after 24 months (and more) of mostly being good to go, I can tell that it’s here for a hot minute again.

How do I know? Well, it might be the fact that I spent more time sleeping during my recent vacation from work than I did just about anything else, and how it’s suddenly really hard for me to stay awake during work hours. I don’t really have an appetite, and in fact nausea hits me frequently. I don’t really have any emotional reactions to things outside of tears, even when tears aren’t super appropriate to the situation (like watching someone play Outer Wilds for the first time). And I’ve been consuming a lot of apocalyptic media, to which the only response, emotional or otherwise, I can really muster is “dude same.”

For a long time I was huge into absurdist philosophy, because it felt to my depressed brain like just the right balance between straight up denying that things are bad (and thus we should fix them, or at least try to do so) and full-blown nihilism. This gives absurdism a lot of credit; mostly it’s just a loose set of spicy existentialist ideas and shit that sounds good on a sticker, like “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the last couple years, while outside of my depressive state, I went back to Camus’ work and found a lot of almost full-on abusive shit in it. Not toward anyone specifically, but shit like “nobody and nothing will care if you’re gone, so live out of spite of them all” rubs me the wrong way in retrospect. The philosophy Camus puts out opens the door for living in a very self-destructive fashion; that in fact the good life is living without care for yourself or anyone/anything else. The way Camus describes and derides suicide especially is grim as fuck, and certainly I would never recommend The Myth of Sisyphus to anyone currently struggling with ideation. That “perfect balance” between denial and nihilism is really not that perfect at all, and in fact skews much more heavily towards the latter.

Neon Genesis Evangelion has been a big albatross around my neck in terms of the media products I’ve consumed in my life that I believe have influenced my depression hardcore. It sits in a similar conversational space to Camus’ work, in that it confronts nihilism and at once rejects and facilitates it. A lot of folks remark that Evangelion is pretty unique – or at least uncommon – in its accurate portrayal of depression, especially for mid-90s anime properties. The thing I notice always seems to be missing in these discussions is that along with that accurate portrayal comes a spot-on – to me, at least – depiction of what depression does to resist being treated. This is a disease that uses a person’s rational faculties to suggest that nobody else could possibly understand their pain, and therefore there’s no use in getting better or moving forward. Shinji Ikari is as self-centered as Hideaki Anno is as I am when it comes to confronting the truth: there are paths out of this hole, but nobody else can take that step out but us, and part of our illness is that refusal to do just that. Depression lies, it provides a cold comfort to the sufferer, that there is no existence other than the one where we are in pain and there is no way out, so pull the blanket up over our head and go back to sleep.

Watching Evangelion for the first time corresponded with the onset of one of the worst depressive spirals I’ve ever been in, and so, much like the time I got a stomach virus at the same time that I ate Arby’s curly fries, I kind of can’t associate Evangelion with anything else. No matter what else it might signify, no matter what other meaning there is to derive from it, for me Eva is the Bad Feeling Anime™. Which is why, naturally, I had to binge all four of the Evangelion theatrical releases upon the release of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon A Time last month.

If Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are works produced by someone with untreated depression just fucking rawdogging existence, then the Eva movies are works produced by someone who has gone to therapy even just one fucking time. Whether that therapy is working or not is to be determined, but they have taken that step out of the hole and are able to believe that there is a possibility of living a depression-free life. The first 40 minutes or so of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 are perfect cinema to me. The world is destroyed but there is a way to bring it back. Restoration and existence is possible even when the surface of the planet might as well be the surface of the Moon. The only thing about this is, everyone has to be on board to help. Even though WILLE fired one of its special de-corefication devices into the ground to give the residents of Village 3 a chance at survival, the maintenance of this pocket ecosystem is actively their responsibility. There is no room or time for people who won’t actively contribute, won’t actively participate in making a better world from the ashes of the old.

There are a lot of essentialist claims and assumptions made by the film in this first act about how the body interacts with the social – the concept of disability itself just doesn’t seem to have made it into the ring of safety provided by Misato and the Wunder, which seems frankly wild to me, and women are almost singularly portrayed in traditionalist support roles while men are the doers and the fixers and the makers. I think it’s worth raising a skeptical eyebrow at this trad conservative “back to old ways” expression of the post-apocalypse wherever it comes up, just as it’s important to acknowledge where the movie pushes back on these themes, like when Toji (or possibly Kensuke) is telling Shinji that, despite all the hard work everyone is doing like farming and building, the village is far from self-sufficient and will likely always rely on provisions from the Wunder.

As idyllic as the setting is, it’s not the ideal. As Shinji emerges from his catatonia, Kensuke takes him around the village perimeter. It’s quiet, rural Japan as far as the eye can see, but everywhere there are contingencies; rationing means Kensuke can only catch one fish a week, all the entry points where flowing water comes into the radius of the de-corefication devices have to be checked for blockages because the water supply will run out. There is a looming possibility that the de-corefication machines could break or shut down at some point, and nobody knows what will happen when that happens. On the perimeter, lumbering, pilot-less and headless Eva units shuffle around; it is unknown whether they’re horrors endlessly biding their time or simply ghosts looking to reconnect to the ember of humanity on the other side of the wall. Survival is always an open question, and mutual aid is the expectation. Still: the apocalypse happened, and we’re still here. The question Village 3 answers is “what now?” We move on, we adapt.

Evangelion is still a work that does its level best to defy easy interpretation, but the modern version of the franchise has largely abandoned the nihilism that was at its core in the 90s version. It’s not just that Shinji no longer denies the world until the last possible second – it’s that he frequently actively reaches out and is frustrated by other people’s denials. He wants to connect, he wants to be social, but he’s also burdened with the idea that he’s only good to others if he’s useful, and he’s only useful if he pilots the Eva unit. This last movie separates him and what he is worth to others (and himself) from his agency in being an Eva pilot, finally. In doing so, he’s able to reconcile with nearly everyone in his life who he has harmed or who has hurt him, and create a world in which there is no Evangelion. While this ending is much more wishful thinking than one more grounded in the reality of the franchise – one that, say, focuses on the existence and possible flourishing of Village 3 and other settlements like it while keeping one eye on the precarious balancing act they’re all playing – it feels better than the ending of End of Eva, and even than the last two episodes of the original series.

I’m glad the nihilism in Evangelion is gone, for the most part. I’m glad that I didn’t spend roughly eight hours watching the Evamovies only to be met yet again with a message of “everything is pointless, fuck off and die.” Because I’ve been absorbing that sentiment a lot lately, from a lot of different sources, and it really just fuckin sucks to hear over and over again.

It is a truth we can’t easily ignore that the confluence of pandemic, climate change, authoritarian surge and capitalist decay has made shit miserable recently. But the spike in lamentations over the intractability of this mix of shit – the inevitability of our destruction, to put it in simpler terms – really is pissing me off. No one person is going to fix the world, that much is absolutely true, but if everyone just goes limp and decides to “123 not it” the apocalypse then everyone crying about how the world is fucked on Twitter will simply be adding to the opening bars of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

We can’t get in a mech to save the world but then, neither realistically could Shinji Ikari. What we can do looks a lot more like what’s being done in Village 3: people helping each other with limited resources wherever they can.

Last week, Hurricane Ida slammed into the Gulf Coast and churned there for hours – decimating Bayou communities in Louisiana and disrupting the supply chain extensively – before powering down and moving inland. Last night the powerful remnants of that storm tore through the Northeast, causing intense flooding. Areas not typically affected by hurricanes suddenly found themselves in a similar boat – pun not intended – to folks for whom hurricanes are simply a fact of life. There’s a once-in-a-millennium drought and heatwave ripping through the West Coast and hey – who can forget back in February when Oklahoma and Texas experienced -20 degree temperatures for several days in a row? All of this against the backdrop of a deadly and terrifying pandemic and worsening political climate. It’s genuinely scary! But there are things we can do.

First, if you’re in a weather disaster-prone area, get to know your local mutual aid organizations. Some of these groups might be official non-profits; one such group in the Louisiana area, for example, is Common Ground Relief. Check their social media accounts for updates on what to do and who needs help. If you’re not sure if there’s one in your area, check out groups like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief for that same information. Even if you’re not in a place that expects to see the immediate effects of climate change, you should still consider linking up with organizing groups in your area. Tenant unions, homeless organizations, safe injection sites and needle exchanges, immigrant rights groups, environmental activist orgs, reproductive health groups – all could use some help right now, in whatever capacity you might be able to provide it.

In none of these scenarios are we going to be the heroes of the story, and we shouldn’t view this kind of work in that way. But neither should we give into the nihilistic impulse to insist upon doing nothing, insist that inaction is the best course of action, and get back under the blankets for our final sleep. Kill that impulse in your head, and fuck, if you have to, simply just fucking wish for that better world. Then get out of bed and help make it happen.

[boognish-worshipper]

ok so like i had this idea for a while n it took me MONTHS to finish bc i was nvr content w/ my writing n whatnot yadda yadda yadda anyway,, this is basically a what if thing about the triads shooting trevor in ludendorff n michael realizing how dumb he is

(my apologies that it’s so fuckin looooooong but I didn’t wanna leave it on a short note that felt incomplete. hope y’all like it !!!!! sorry for any grammatical errors or if the formatting’s funky)

//

Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Was he stupid? No, no. He was just blind. Blind for the past 10 years. Who knows. Maybe even longer than that. Fucking Michael. It always came back to that venomous shithead, constantly ruining everything for him. Did he just... forget? Was he so focused on that bloodsucker when he was “dying” in front of him he completely forgot Brad got shot first? That Brad died first? He didn’t even really think about him when shit went down. Or care much about Brad in general for that matter. The guy was a dick who just worked with other dicks back in the day, eventually joining their motley crew. A fading memory more than anything. His primary focus had always been Michael, who he thought was his right hand man. Trevor always knew that there was something different about him. As frustrating as Michael could be, it still didn’t change how he felt deep down. Michael wasn’t like the others. Or at least, that’s what he had thought. The night he found out that Michael’s lie ran deeper than he led on was one he wouldn’t forget.

He arrived at Michael’s house in a short amount of time. Hopping up the steps he made his presence known, standing in the entrance of the living room. He plopped down next to Michael, who scooted away from him slightly, still not ready for close contact from Trevor.

“Family ain’t back yet, huh?”

“Nope.”

“She’s a Goddamn fool, man.”

Trevor was never one to hide his jealousy towards Amanda. The two had been going at it for years, and it was always regarding Michael. Catty behavior between two people who had complicated relationships with the man, in their own unique ways. Amanda was scared of Trevor, but was never afraid of talking shit to his face. It was never any serious threats whenever they shot petty quips at one another anyway. She knew Trevor would never kill or harm her, all thanks to Michael, who spoke up again.

“Despite all the chaos of these last few weeks, I think I finally figured it out… I know, it sounds ridiculous-“

To Trevor, the thought wasn’t ridiculous. He knew Michael would never change. He would always be a killer, a man of action through and through. He was wasting away on a couch, rewatching classic Vinewood every night. To him, it only seemed right for Michael to keep taking scores.

“You’re back man!” He proclaimed, emphasizing his next line, “We are back!”

With excitement in his eyes, Trevor went on to boast about the little clique they had formed, and how they only needed to bust Brad out to fully reunite. Michael looked solemn, shaking his head slightly.

“That’s not it. I got money, it just makes you miserable-“ Now it was his turn to have excitement shine in his eyes.

“I wanna make movies.”

“Great. That’s great… and uh, so where exactly does this leave me in the second act of your life?”

He felt his stomach sink somewhat, regretting having asked that question. Michael would always tiptoe around it, avoiding the inevitable. But he couldn’t run from the past anymore. It would always catch up to him.

“This is not a game to me! Alright? This is a fuckin’ way of life.”

“I got a fuckin’ family!”

“Yeah, well, I got nothin��! No one gives a fuck about me!”

There was a pause. A hesitation. Amber eyes looked sorrowfully yet savagely into pale blue ones.

“I do.”

Something in Trevor snapped hearing those words. He couldn’t stand the audacity of Michael saying that to him. Because to him, Michael didn’t seem to give a fuck about what happened to Trevor. No matter how many times he lamented to him about everything he went through.

“Oh… Fuck you.”

Trevor rose from his seat, beginning to pace around the room, stabbing a finger in Michael’s direction. He did nothing but stare between his feet, not bothering to look up at Trevor.

“I saw your grave. I mourned you. And then it turns out that everything I fucking thought about you was wrong. Everything! You’re not dead, and you’re not a man.”

Michael shot up from his seat, cool demeanor abandoned in a fit of anger.

“Well, what the fuck are you?”

“I’m your fucking nightmare!”

“Yeah, enough with your Goddamn threats!”

Trevor did nothing but scoff at him, backing away like he was about to leave the room. Instead, some kind of alarm went off in his head, urging him to stay and ask the question he pushed far into the back of his mind. The inevitable was happening, and he couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. If Michael himself stood before him alive as ever, then who the fuck was in Michael Townley’s grave? Then suddenly, and ultimately, it clicked for him. Fucking Brad.

“You treacherous piece of shit! You’re fuckin’ dead! You’re fucking dead!”

As it clicked for Trevor, it clicked for Michael.

“Oh, fuck! Trevor! Hey, T!”

He peeled out of the driveway in Michael’s car. God, it smelled just like that fucking prick. It made him want to cry.

“Fuck!” He screamed out to no one in particular.

He slammed on the gas and wiped away any forming tears. His phone began to ring and he saw an all too familiar photo appear. Michael. What the fuck could he possibly say or want right now?

“Fuck you.” He spat out.

“Hey, come on. Where you going?”

“You know where I’m going, fuck you!”

The fucking nerve of him to ask that. What was wrong with him? The rest of the conversation wasn’t any better. It sounded like some stupid break up between two teens, as if Michael had cheated on him with some hooker instead of lying about the past decade or so.

“Trevor, come on!”

“Fuck you Michael! Soon enough, I will.”

He was on his way to the air field, and dialed up Ron as soon as he could. He needed to get out of here before Michael could stop him.

“Trevor? It’s great to uh..”

“Is there a plane I can use? Get me across country?”

“Sure! Sure. We got one fueled up for a trip south of the border.”

“I’m taking it.”

“Is everything okay, man?”

“Everything is not okay. Nothing has ever been okay but I’m going up there to see it for myself. I’m going to see an old friend alright? If you’re where I think you are buddy...”

Trevor gripped the steering wheel harder until his knuckles turned white. Tears stung his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it out.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it. I guess.. I guess I didn’t want to. Fuck!”

He clutched his phone tightly as he spoke, cracking the already shattered screen more. His voice was faltering, and it became harder to speak clearly.

“Maybe I knew all along. I’m gonna find out for sure and I’m gonna... do something about it! God there was always something wrong with that job, what went down after I guess I-“

The tears made their way down his face. His voice trembled and threatened to crack.

“I guess I wanted to believe- Fucking.. Fucking flea circus!”

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Too many things began to resurface. Seeing red, he just cried out to Ron, still on the phone patiently listening to him rant.

“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

“I’m sorry Trevor...”

He slammed on the gas as he approached the airfield. Running over to the plane, he hopped in and began his journey to Ludendorff. As he left, storm clouds poured in and darkened the sky. A thick rain accompanied by the thunder and lighting combo shook the small plane he was in. He braced himself for the rest of the trip there and kept going.

Ludendorff was just like he remembered. Cold, empty, and super fucking depressing. Why was the midwest like this all the time? Sure, living it up in Sandy Shores wasn’t the most ideal but for fucks sake, at least it was warm. He pulled up to the cemetery shortly after landing, and hurried off to find that God forsaken grave. After glancing at each passing gravestone, there it was. The late great Michael Townley’s place of burial.

“Who you got in here..?”

He scoffed, knowing his answer.

“As if I need to ask...”

It took forever to reach the coffin. The wood was brittle, which meant it would be easy enough to pry open and see who was actually in Michael’s place. He had been so caught up in his digging he didn’t notice a set of steps coming at him.

“You’re wasting your time.”

Trevor was wasting his time? No, he was making perfectly good use of it. Michael was wasting his if anything. Flying all the way out here for what? No, don’t say it... Was it finally gonna happen? Was Michael waiting for the opportunity to finally take a pop at him and leave his carcass for good? To toss him right into the grave with Brad? He didn’t want to believe so but hey, it’s Michael. Who knows what he’ll do. He couldn’t bear to listen to another word that came out of his mouth, and knew he needed to get the jump on him.

“You reptilian motherfucker!”

How did it end up here? Why was he pointing a gun at Michael? What the fuck was he doing? He didn’t want to kill him. He never did, even if he had a million justifiable reasons to.

“I didn’t want it to have to come to this.”

There it was again. The fucking lying. That same exact fucking lying that got them here to begin with.

“Yes you did! You just don’t have the fucking balls to do it! But I do!”

But Trevor was also a hypocrite. He didn’t have it in him to ever go through with killing Michael. No matter what the son of a bitch did to him, he meant too much to Trevor for him to ever consider killing the man himself. He didn’t want to think about being the cause of him dying for good.

“I’ve got more to lose than you!”

“Never a truer word has been spoken, brother.”

He said that with as much malice as he could muster. Michael was the farthest fucking thing from being a brother. This was a man he had loved. Hell, still loved, despite it feeling more and more like a stranger before him with each encounter they had.

“Now.. pull the fucking trigger.”

The air was too still. It was choking him, making him feel frozen. Sure, weather played a part in the feeling but this... was different. His blood felt like ice. He couldn’t do it.

“You ain’t got the guts.”

Neither of them could do it. Even if he fired he knew he’d miss. Michael had the upper hand here.

“Take the fucking shot!”

Wait. Was Michael... crying? No. No way the great Michael fucking Townley was actually crying over this. That motherfucker. He’s such a fucking fraud. A coward. Always running. Running from Trevor, his past, his problems, his family and his fucking emotions.

His train of thought had been interrupted when he heard snow faintly crunching not too far from them.

“What was that?-“

A noise shot through the tense air that surrounded them. Woosh. Fuck. No. It couldn’t be- Ow. No. No fucking way. He looked down in awe and there it was, a distinct bullet hole, pierced through his torso. It nearly missed his heart, but was most certainly in a spot to do enough damage to him. He looked back up at Michael, mouth slightly agape leaking with the blood that began to pool in his mouth. Peaking behind him, he saw two figures lingering far behind. The fucking Triads. Of course, how could he forget? It’s not everyday you slam the head of a Chinese mobster’s son into a post. Fucking shit. If only he hadn’t messed with Tao…

He was fucked, and he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he felt himself wanting to collapse on the ground. Michael looked at him in pure disbelief, eyes wide enough to pop from his head. Normally Trevor would giggle at the sight, but any noise from him would be a gurgle of blood in place of it.

“…Trevor?”

That was enough to knock him to the ground.

“Mr. Phillips! Mr. Cheng wants a word with you!”

Michael whipped his head back, and began dragging the two of them to cover. Was that supposed to be a fucking warning shot?? The one who shot Trevor spoke in Chinese to the other gunman, then spoke in English to the duo.

“Phillips! You and your boyfriend cannot hide from us!”

Michael grabbed his gun and started firing back, clipping the two in the front instantly.

“Trevor… what the fuck did you get into?! What are they on about? I… I’m not…”

Trevor couldn’t speak. He could only murmur at the man beside him.

“Trevor, seriously, you better answer me because I’m pretty fucking lost here-“

He angrily turned his head back to find Trevor on the verge of slipping out of consciousness, his face dropping at what was before him.

“Ah, Trevor! Shit!”

Before Michael could help him out, a van burst through the gate to the left, and more yelling ensued.

“Get out the van! Go find them!”

Michael panicked, pushing his gun into Trevor’s limp hands so he could grab the dead Triad henchman’s sturdier gun. He fired and clipped a few more men, trying his best to keep an eye on Trevor. His breathing was shallow, and he attempted to prop himself up so he could fire at them too.

“Trevor, what the fuck is going on? Who are these guys?”

“It’s the fucking,” He winced, pushing himself onto his knees so he could grab the side of the grave they hid behind. He spit out some blood that leaked from his mouth, staining the snow beneath them.

“The God damn Chinese, sugar tits.”

“Why are they-“

“Ask questions later, I’m fucking bleeding out here.”

Trevor forced himself to fully stand, his legs wobbling slightly. He fired a few more rounds, face contorted in pain. Another bullet flew by him, grazing his side.

“Fuck! Ow!” He growled.

“T, what in the hell are you doing?! Get down!”

“Fuck off you fucking leech! I can-“ He spit out more blood.

“I can handle this myself!”

He groaned, keeping his aim as still as he possibly could, which wasn’t very still at all. Stubborn as ever, Trevor went in guns blazing. He used not only the gun Michael had forced into his hands, but also the one he had brought with him. Several more shots fired at him until he felt a hand yank him back to the ground. He fell with a slight thump, and pain jolted through him again.

“You crazy bastard! We’re getting the fuck out of here, but that can’t exactly be accomplished if you’re dead!”

“Oh please! You already want me dead you fat fucking snake!” He wheezed out.

“Jesus Christ- Trevor. I already told you-“

“Shit, Mikey-”

Before either one could do anything about it, a Triad that had snuck up on them pistol whipped Michael in the back of the head. Trevor scrambled backwards and attempted to get on his feet, but to no avail. In a last minute effort, he lifted Michael’s gun and fired. For someone who was labeled a lousy shot by his partner, he felt that Michael would’ve been proud of his aim at that moment in time. A clean shot, right between the fucker’s eyes. He grinned slightly, adrenaline still coursing through him. He barked out a laugh, forgetting how much of a chore it was to allow any noise to escape him. It caused him to break into a coughing fit, spitting up more blood onto the snow. He looked from the small circle of blood that formed in front of him, back to Michael’s limp body. He shoved him slightly, trying to nudge him back into consciousness.

“Mikey. Michael. Get up. We gotta go like you said-“

He heard another van pull up. Then another. Fuck.

“You gotta be shitting me..”

Trevor, disregarding his wounds weakening him to the point his vision grew spotty, swapped his handgun for the gun Michael grabbed. He tried his best to prop the other man up against a grave, well out of the Triad’s line of sight. He pushed through any pain he felt, still riding his adrenaline high, wiping the rest of them out one by one. He rushed back over to Michael, who was stirring awake.

“Michael, for fucks sake get up already! Jesus I’m still fucking bleeding and I have to save your ass right now? Come on!”

He was finally able to stand, and Trevor slung Michael’s arm around his shoulder, helping him regain his balance. They helped one another walk through the mess of snow, blood, and bodies to get to the rental car, which surprisingly was still in alright shape. Across the train tracks, one more van started to pull up, right before the nightly train passed through town.

“Haha! Thank you train for being useful this time!”

He forgot how much it hurt to laugh, clutching his side and muttering curses under his breath as the two raced over to the car. Michael hopped in the driver’s seat after placing Trevor in the passenger’s side. Trevor’s adrenaline rush began to die down along with the rest of him. Michael raced out of the cemetery, narrowly escaping the left over henchmen. Glancing over at Trevor, he realized how shit of a shape he was in. Despite not living in North Yankton in close to 10 years, he still remembered where all the nearby hospitals were. It wasn’t ideal, considering what they were doing up there and who they were and what not, but it was better than having Trevor die on the spot.

“Hey, don’t you fucking die on me right now buddy. There’s no way you ain’t surviving the shit show we just went through, which only happened thanks to you.”

Trevor asked himself why Michael was still giving him snide remarks about his unruliness. He figured now wasn’t the time to really argue, but still tried nonetheless.

“You… fuckin’ snake.. you think you’re so..”

“I’m so what Trevor? No you know what- Don’t speak right now, but try to stay awake, please?”

“Mmph..”

The ride out of Ludendorff was quiet. The radio was off, and neither one chose to speak. Michael of course was driven mad by the silence.

“…Look. Trevor I- I fucked up. There’s nothing I can do now to fix it, no matter how many times I apologize. But you do- You do know that I cared about you then, and I care about you now…”

Trevor did nothing but grunt in response, eyelids heavy. Michael sighed.

“We’re almost to a hospital. They’ll fix you up good, and- and you’re gonna be fine. You ain’t dying on me yet. I mean- you’ve survived worse? You.. I…”

He huffed out a breath, gripping the steering wheel tight. The rest of the ride was silent, save for Michael making sure Trevor was still alive and conscious. They made it to the hospital, with Michael carrying him fireman style, seeing as Trevor was very lanky compared to him. He called out for someone to help, using his gift of lying to say that Trevor was just shot by a random mugger, so the report back wouldn’t seem too suspicious. He patiently waited for word back from a doctor, eventually seeing someone come to him with a clip board.

“Are you… Franklin?”

Michael had been smart enough to give them both fake names, but he just blurted out the first two names that came to mind. Right now, he went by Franklin, and for all they knew Trevor was Lamar.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Your friend is in critical condition, but you got him here just in time. Any later and he wouldn’t have made it.”

The last sentence caused Michael’s ears to ring.

“He’s going to be out of surgery soon, the bullet wound was pretty deep.” The doctor narrowed their eyes slightly, getting ready to write the report down.

“You said that he was mugged?”

“Yeah. The guy fired at him and ran off. Didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“Hmm… well alright. I’ll let you know when your friend is ready for visitors.”

The rest of the night was painfully slow. By the time Trevor was out of surgery, he was still hopped up on morphine, allowing him to rest properly for the first time in forever. Michael sheepishly walked in, careful not to be too loud. He made his way over to Trevor’s side, sitting in the seat next to his bed. He hadn’t seen Trevor look so content like that in so long. Not since... those days. He spoke to himself, seeing as Trevor was fast asleep.

“You worry me so much you dumbfuck… why do you pull the shit you pull? I mean.. shit. I… I love you, man. I do. But what if you died without ever hearing that from me again? Is that the reason why you get like this? Shit. Right. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Besides everything about Ludendorff, it angered Trevor to his core that Michael could never admit he loved Trevor unless he was drunk or alone. In this instance, he technically was. Trevor was peacefully dreaming, while Michael felt restless. He proceeded to fumble around for his cellphone to reach out to Franklin, who had been wondering what happened to them. He knew Franklin would probably be up anyway.

Yo Mike, where u at? Trevor too, Lamar n I gotta do one last job wit him.

F

Currently in North Yankton kid. Trev found out about Brad. Some Chinese gangsters rolled on us, T got shot. Be home soon hopefully.

M

Oh shit. Stay safe out there homie. See u soon ig.

F

Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking back up at Trevor. He tried to think about what he would do next. Knowing that visiting hours were limited, he felt a twinge of guilt knowing he’d have to leave Trevor alone for a night after what happened. But it was late, and he couldn’t stay there overnight. He figured he’d have to bunk in some cheap motel for the time being. Just until Trevor and him were ready to leave North Yankton. He spoke to the doctor from before to let them know he would come back the next morning. When he arrived at the nearest shit motel, he still couldn’t find it in him to sleep. He was tired, sure, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to drift off. Even if he did, he would find himself jolting awake, the scene of Trevor getting shot playing over and over in his head. He’d almost been responsible for Trevor’s death once, he couldn’t let it happen for real. What would he do anyway if he did die? He quickly brushed the thought off, not wanting to consider the possibilities.

He returned to the hospital the next morning, half awake from the lack of sleep. Visiting hours were early, and he wanted to get them both out of here as fast as he could. Walking to Trevor’s room, he saw the man sitting upright looking out the window. North Yankton may have been cold as a bitch, but from time to time it had real pretty sunrises. He knocked lightly on the door, and Trevor turned to face him.

“Hey, T…”

He couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“I thought you left.”

“Visiting hours are limited, T. You should know that by now.”

He didn’t say anything in response, facing back towards the window instead. Michael sat down in one of the chairs across from him.

“You.. you worried me. I thought-“

“You thought what, cupcake? That I’d just die on the spot, and you could just leave my dead body there-“

“Trevor! For the last time that wasn’t my fucking plan!”

Their voices steadily increased above the normal level it should’ve been for a hospital setting.

“Then why did you have a fucking gun, huh Mikey?”

“I could ask the same for you!”

“Oh of course, turn the situation onto me again-“

“You brought a gun for what, Trevor?!”

“That’s not the issue at hand here!”

“Yes it is!”

A voice chimed into their argument.

“Excuse me. You,” A nurse who walked in pointed at Trevor.

“You need to rest. And sir, I’m not sure who you are, but if you want to stay as a visitor I suggest you lower your voice and behave.”

The two men looked at each other angrily before sitting back down. The nurse exited, most likely wanting to return later so Michael could discuss discharging him. Silence filled the room briefly.

“T… I meant what I said.” His voice had dropped to a whisper.

Trevor didn’t look him in the eye. His arms were crossed, and he just looked out the window.

“I could’ve lost you.”

The other man still said nothing.

“I could’ve lost you and you would’ve died not knowing I..” He trailed off.

Trevor turned back to look at Michael while speaking.

“Knowing what? You hiding something else from me, porkchop?”

“I…”

“Spit it the fuck out Mikey or I swear to God-“

“I love you.”

His felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, and his hands became clammy. He finally forced the words out, sober.

“I love you.” He repeated, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Trevor while saying it. He chose to look at his feet instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I just.. kept thinking that you could’ve died not hearing that from me ever again.”

He didn’t notice it at first, but tears brimmed his eyes. Trevor’s scowl fell and his face softened.

“What?” Was all he could choke out.

“Don’t.. don’t make me say it again.” He said, face flushing red.

“You..” Trevor didn’t finish his sentence. He shuddered in his seat, ready to cry himself. He buried his face in his hands, muffling something incoherent.

“What?”

He lifted his head up, tears streaking his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For.. being like this.”

Trevor was a lot of things. You couldn’t just describe him in only one word. Michael tried sifting through the options of what he meant.

“I pushed you so hard back then I.. I thought I was losing you. I didn’t want to. All it did was make you want to leave even more.” Trevor kept sniffling.

“Trev…”

“Why Michael? Why do you do this to me?”

He wanted to ask him “Do what?”, but they both knew the answer. Michael never let his feelings be more than surface level. He was repressed and Trevor hated it. Trevor continued to cry, and the tears that Michael held in spilled.

“Hey.. don’t… don’t apologize, T. Please.”

“I..” He hiccuped.

“I’ve loved you for so long. Why couldn’t you have done the same?”

Michael kept his head down. He didn’t want to see the heartbroken expression on Trevor’s face. It only made him feel worse.

“You left me.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But you still did. Telling me that doesn’t change anything. You became another person in my life that I loved and then you left. Same as always for me.”

Everything Trevor loved was always out of his reach. Flying, his mother, Michael, Patricia… He could go on. Nothing was ever gonna be permanent for him.

“But I’m here for you now, T. I’m not going anywhere.”

He finally looked up to see Trevor’s sad eyes burning a hole right through him. His silence told him it’d be a long while before he could believe his words.

“Now.. uh. Let’s get the fuck outta this place.”

It didn’t take long for Trevor to be discharged. The doctors had told him he should stay for another day or so, but only got an irritated response from Trevor. Figuring the duo wouldn’t budge on wanting to leave, he was signed off for clearance. They eventually found the plane Trevor flew in on, and made their way out of the state. Neither one knew if this would change anything between them, but Trevor felt more at ease around him. It would still take time and effort for any left over wounds to heal, but for right now, Trevor was content.

[pear-pies]

Placebo in Rock & Folk magazine - April 2003

Words by Jerome Soligny, photos by Carole Epinette

Wonky translation under the cut:

These three did it all. Shot with the QOTSAs and posed with Indo. They survived "Velvet Goldmine" and the Top Bab. They come back after the ordeal of the fourth album. Danger interview: “Jerome, what if you came out?” They ask our charming reporter.

"We do not regret anything"

Everything begins again with "Bulletproof Cupid", a punky instrument that pulls everything off. Then "English Summer Rein", mechanico-depressive spinning punctuated by twisted keyboards, and "Sleeping With Ghosts", the lament which advances while blistering during cooking, confirm the tone. Against all expectations, because you never know how will age the groups that the previous album installed at the Top, Placebo took over. And stuffed it in an iron glove. Further on, "The Bitter End" tumbles through yapping guitars which would stick to the hatches the thickest of the sailors. Be careful, Placebo is on the way out of being one. At the end of the record, Brian Molko, Stefan Olsdal and Steve Hewitt do not even run out of steam. The cows. They drop a "Centerfolds" which frolic like a cynical top under a shower of saving doubts. What augur still other perspectives.

The fourth album: a horror for all who have faced it. Often a stupid trap. Returning from the Gothic directly inherited from the glam of pageantry and from these hasty and harmful certainties which congest the face and the veins, Placebo publishes its first real great disc. Oh, not the marvel of wonders, not the album from the third millennium, but something very strong, compact, tenacious in listening, which proves that the future is indeed there, in front, where the light is most blinding. Calfeucée in their Parisian hotel (the Costes, of course), our three lads do not make the blow of the revelation, of the luminous questioning. Simply, they now think with their heads, a good plan most often Likewise, reality no longer frightens them, and it is probably she who is hiding behind this "Sleeping With Ghosts" which relates the sorrows only for the better. melt into hopes At the moment when rock brings us back to life and when we just want to ask them everything, the Placebo have decided to say everything. Not even in a hurry, they settle down on the couch, ready to talk like never before. Despite new batteries embedded in the carcass, the Panasonic barely a Brian Molko: Hey Jerome, you came to talk to us this time when you had not come to the previous album ...

Rock & Folk: Uh yes but I was there for the first two, that says a lot, right?

Brian Molko: Certainly, I also believe that over time, we finally appreciate the true nature of the problem: we were mainly criticized for the sound of the previous album, which I can understand but, paradoxically, it is the one that brought us to the Top.

R&F: Legitimately, we have the right to expect a lot from the people we love: while "Black Market Music" sounded a bit like a sequel, this new record is all about a renaissance.

Brian Molko: Actually, we were finally able to live a little. After having existed in a small bubble for a very long time, we forced ourselves to take an eight-month break. The album-tour rhythm put us on the sidelines: we no longer had normal contact with anything. We were losing ourselves. We have fully lived the old cliché which claims that we spend the first years of our life writing a first record and six months on the second. It turned out to be very true. We had to get back to the situation of the first album, see friends, go shopping, look at the buildings in our city.

R&F: So the freshness would come from there ...

Brian Molko: Yes, and it was essential spiritually, emotionally and physically.

Steve Hewitt: We had to be in tune with reality again.

Brian Molko: In fact, we find ourselves in a bit of the same state of mind as when we released "Without You I'm Nothing", although "Sleeping With Ghosts" is a lot less gloomy. The heroin has since stopped leaking. In fact, I feel like I've pulled myself out of what I consider my second teenage years, between twenty and thirty. I conquered the self-destruction, exorcised some demons, understood what had happened to me. I held on to what I had learned. As a human being, I am now able to continue living, to try to answer the big questions posed by existence.

R&F: Maybe that's why the melodies are needed this time. It took me four records to get a favorite Placebo track.

The whole group in chorus: Which one?

R&F: "Protect Me From What I Want", of course ...

Brian Molko: The most paradoxical is that this song dates from the end of the "Black Market Music" sessions. I was not married at the time, but I was trying to get out of a particularly vicious divorce.just started. Then we wait for the lyrics, which don't arrive, it's rather intriguing. We especially wanted to avoid the big Rican producer side, we needed someone who shakes us up a bit. Jim could do that because he comes from dance and his pedigree is impressive. We have all his records at home, Bjôrk, Massive Attack, Sneaker Pimps and especially DJ Shadow. It is believed that guitar rock can only evolve by incorporating new genres, this is the only way to remain a modern rock band. At home, we practically only listen to hip hop.

R&F: Still, he didn't betray you.

Brian Molko: No because he actually brought out our rock side, which I'm particularly proud of. In fact, because we always wanted to control everything, it was not easy to be forced, to do certain things backwards, to walk on the head. But in truth, that's what we wanted: yes, there was some tension in the studio but we all took advantage of it. The challenge is necessary and it is also valid for the public. We opened up and rediscovered ourselves.

Stefan Olsdal (emerging from his chair): We found ourselves in front of the mirror, at the foot of the wall: someone had to kick our ass.

Brian Molko: Jim was like, "Why are you doing this?" We would answer him: "Because we always do it like that!" He would say: "All the more reason not to do it."

Stefan Olsdal: On the first day, he messed up all the demos, changed the tones, the tempos ...

R&F: Like Brian Eno ...

Steve Hewitt: Yeah, but with a lot more compassion. Eno is a bit (silence) ... We don't really like being told our actions, but at the same time, we are still young, still absorbing. Jim knew how to preserve us while making a modern sound.

R&F: Modern and rock'n'roll at the same time, a characteristic which does not necessarily apply to all the young groups in The which recycle the past gently but are convinced to have found the virus of the AIDS.

Steve Hewitt: Placebo doesn't belong to any current, has nothing to do with fashion.

R&F: You always pose as outsiders.

Brian Molko: It's the only way to survive.

Steve Hewitt: These bands, like The Strokes, play the nostalgia card.

Stefan Olsdal: And what happens next? I would not like to be in their place.

Brian Molko: If you want good New York pop, you better listen to Blondie.

R&F: In 2003, 11 seems that you have abandoned all the androgynous paraphernalia, sexual ambiguity, glam references ...

Brian Molko: I think today everyone knows what there is to know. Our sexual inclinations haven't changed, and we still wear makeup. It is just more expensive and better applied. We are ourselves, in our music and in private. I went through my travelo period (in French in the interview - Editor's note), and I understood that being androgynous was not wearing skirts. It is a way of being on the spiritual plane. It is not an image but a state of mind.

Steve Hewitt: It's like being punk, it's an attitude.

Brian Molko: At the same time, I don't regret any of my eccentricities. I grew up in the spotlight and it all kind of makes me smile.

Stefan Olsdal: People still talk to us about certain outfits or positions, as if it still shocks them.

R&F: Yes, and particularly in France, a particularly homophobic country which bumps heartily on gay artists.

Brian Molko: And you, coincidentally, you still hang out with.

Stefan Olsdal: Jérôme, it's coming out time (laughs) ...

Brian Molko: All that has to change, that all of France becomes gay (laughs)!

R&F: "Protect Me From What I Want" precisely, here is a title heavy with meaning. What was the idea behind this song?

Brian Molko: For me, it's a study of the pathological need people have to copulate, the search for meaning in copulation. As if bachelors or monogamists were aliens. As if we were only one when we were two. The song is about the fact that one relationship has destroyed me but I can't help but look for another ... why do I keep coming back to this?

R&F: Wow, we're bathing in philosophy here!

Brian Molko: Yes and it's the same elsewhere in the record: in "Plasticine", I insist on the fact that you have to be yourself above all while asking myself all these questions. Why do we have to do a lot of forbidden things, bad or harmful?

R&F: It's therapy in public.

Brian Molko: At least I find some balance in it. These are not songs about compassion or self-pity. They came out like this because it was vital for me. I am in this privileged situation where I can express myself and the world hears me. Otherwise, I would be really frustrated and I would have suffered a lot more in the last fifteen years.

R&F: Music saved your life.

Brian Molko: Sure.

Steve Hewitt: Everyone: I think we can say that. Without Placebo, we would not be not even alive.

Brian Molko: Spitting it all out is not necessarily the right solution. There are things with which to live. In fact, I've always been afraid to go see a psychiatrist ...

R&F: Yet, listening to you speak earlier, you could have the feeling that Jim Abiss acted a bit like a shrink with you.

Brian Molko: That's right. You could say that.

R&F: At a time when Bush and Blair want to play World War III, what attitude do you adopt? What do you think of these Englishmen who left for Iraq to constitute a human shield?

Brian Molko: Let's say we stand together. We participated in the March for Peace on February 14th with Damon Albarn and 3D from Massive Attack. We were also surprised that so few groups mobilized, which increased our desire to participate tenfold.

R&F: Do you consider that it is the role of the artist to give voice in such circumstances?

Steve Hewitt: Yes, in the sense that we can help with general motivation.

Brian Molko: I'm very interested in seeing if Blair is going to let Bush bomb Iraq with the British present on the soil of the country. If he ever allows that, the consequences will be dire.

R&F: It will only be one more religious war, in the name of oil and money ...

Brian Molko: It seems absurd that we can still fight for that. And curiously, nobody speaks more, or almost, of Bin Laden. Wouldn't it all come from him, by chance, as a huge consequence of September 11? On the other hand, we have such a feeling that Bush wants to finish the job that daddy started. Its image is so bad that it needs at least one war to restore its image.

Steve Hewitt: And reinvigorate its dying economy.

R&F: The method is lamentable, deceitful. Like those employed by the recording industry which claims to be doing well by selling pop in damaged boxes to ignoramuses.

Brian Molko: The ability of this job to ingest people, bribe them and then spit them out is impressive. This is what happened here at Canal +.R&F: Business is the beast.

Brian Molko: All these pre-made artists are young and naff ...

Steve Hewitt: They'll all end up in a labor camp for ex-pop stars.

R&F: Warhol was talking about fifteen minute glory, we're brutally passed to fifteen seconds.

Brian Molko: We should have called them Karaoke idols from the start.

Steve Hewitt: And it only works because of the TV ...

R&F: Who washes the poor, helpless brains.

Steve Hewitt: You can tell how much people want to think less

R&F: And spend less. For many, music should be free: one in five thirteen-year-olds doesn't know that a disc doesn't have to be a computer-burnt puck. Some are flabbergasted when they see a cover for the first time.

Stefan Olsdal: And those who don't buy records put pressure on those who have them to pass them on at all costs, just long enough to copy them.

R&F: Exactly.

Brian Molko: That's why we blame Robbie Williams so much. Scooping 80 million pounds off EMI and then declaring that pirating music is a fantastic thing just makes him want to stick a chunk in his face.

R&F .: And then piracy is not a matter of environment. It's not a suburban thing. There are rich kids who find it normal to burn 80 CDs during their weekend and sometimes sell them to their friends ...

Brian Molko: What do these people believe? That we are there, the face in the stream with a syringe stuck in the arm singing "La Vie En Rose"? And who will pay for our children's school? Not them, anyway. Our mentality is quite different: we always want to buy records from people we love, from our friends. Personally, we are partly out of the woods, but it will be particularly difficult for new groups to make a living from music in five or ten years.

R&F: Come on, we're not going to leave each other on this, a little humor won't hurt anyone. If you were to be banned from any of these three things, which would you choose: making music, making money or making love?

Steve Hewitt (almost tit for tat): I would stop making money, without hesitation. It's because I love music and sex too much. And then, well, you have to choose.

Brian Molko (completely overwhelmed): Oh damn, that's not true. What a dilemma!

R&F: No Brian, that doesn't count, make an effort (laughs).

Brian Molko: Ah, I don't know. And then if. I would stop making money and get on well with someone super rich.

R&F: Or you would be pimp ...

Brian Molko: Yes, that's it. Good plan.

Stefan Olsdal: Stop making love does not mean to stop loving ...

Brian Molko (preparing his shot): And we can always masturbate (general laughter).

Stefan Olsdal: OK then, I would stop making love.

R&F: Okay, it will be written in black and white for all eternity.

Brian Molko: Will we live long enough to regret it? This is the real question.

*COLLECTED BY JEROME SOLIGNY

[Inset, Trash Palace]

Already present on the first album by Trash Palace which he had adorned with his presence one unhealthy recovery of "I Love You, Me No More "in duet with Asia Argento, Brian Molko is coming to re-stack. This time he cosigns directly "The Metric System " with Dimitri Trash Palace Tikovoi, an electro saw boosted to bleeps fundamentals available in two remix and its clip on an enhanced single recently published at Discograph. The result is particularly (d) amazing and sounds good logical, like of Placebo cyber.Placebo in  Rock & Folk magazine - April 2003

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Heads up we got an

Adult Hikikomori Sunny AU

I've been waiting to find an AU after the neutral end of the Hikikomori route for a while. What happened to Sunny? How did his life go on after that? Did he go to college? Did he get a fulltime job? Did he figure out what he wants in life?

these are all very good questions because literally anything could be the case. So this AU is just gonna be stuck in a hospital setting for a while.

Here's what I got so far:

Past:

Hospital Psychiatrist (practicing? Training?) Doctor Hero

I imagine after Basil's death, Hero would (eventually) turn to learning how to identify and help people with suicidal tendencies, if he's gonna be a doctor anyway.

In a choice between psychologist and psychiatrist, Hero went psychiatrist. Hero's parents would pressure him into getting a more lucrative job. PLUS psychiatrists go to college for 8 years, then take four more of psychiatry residency. Hero might feel just a little more accomplished, just a little better about himself for earning a higher degree, just to reassure himself that he's working hard and doing his best towards helping people.

Hero did extra studying in psychotherapy. He tried doing it at the same time as he did medical college. He's not.. the best at it because of that, for several reasons, but he knows it's better to combine medicine and conversation. When he has his head on straight, he can manage it.

I have.. no idea whether to put Hero into practice or residency. He'd have to be at least around.. 31, if he were in practice. That's a long time to have unresolved trauma. That's a nice hunk of research i gotta do.

That's it that's all for Hero. His goals are set in the present and focused around other people, as per usual.

Sunny is... not doing so well. He lied about going to college when he moved into some hole far away from his mother. He has no reason to get up in the morning when he can just lie around. He doesn't enjoy whatever hobbies he used to have.

He doesn't even know Basil is gone and he's so bad off.

He's honestly convinced himself that he doesn't care about anything. He still cares about people, however. He'd have stayed with his mom and burdened her with himself if he didn't. When they had moved from Faraway, it was to a cheaper, smaller place. That meant Sunny's mom didn't have to work so much. That meant more time with Sunny. He decided it was.. preferable not to stay.

The only times he does anything is when he tries to remember the past and relearn the person he used to be. What did he do? What did he like? He'd play games, and read comics, and would get frustrated? move on to something else when those did nothing for him, searching for.. some feeling to occur. And then he'd question why, why, why.

Why can't he enjoy anything? Why does he want to feel enjoyment? Why can't he just do something and be happy? Why can't he just do nothing and be fine? Why does he need to exist? Why does he want to move? Why does he want, but can never have, can never get by himself?

If there's nothing he can do, then what is he waiting for?

Vague memories would become clearer with introspection, until he would feel something, finally. An old guilt aching from deep inside his bones. A haunting self hatred, ripping away whatever minuscule strength his limbs had to try anything fun. A sense of iron resignation blanketing and anchoring his body, reminding him that it's much too late to try getting up now. Ironically, apathy got him up in the morning, as much as it keeps him from enjoying anything enough to stay up.

He was always a little too thin, but he used to force himself to do things like eat and work enough to survive. Mostly because to sleep means to not have headaches, and to not have headaches means to eat well enough, and to eat well enough means to have food, and to have food means to have money from a job.

But it's not as if he was all too desperate to sleep, anyway. His dreams have stayed the same for years. They're more eventful and colorful than bland reality, but it's a mix of the same thing every day. Staring at the swirling kaleidoscope of his dreams is exactly like observing the same beige ceiling for hours on end, until it all mixes together into the same shade of empty grey.

It probably doesn't help Sunny's mood that he thinks dramatic things like the previous point, just to pass time.

He only got worse once he was forced to move into one of those really bad apartments. You know the ones, with the rusted metal stairs nobody wants to risk their life on, and practically no privacy with four-to-five thin-walled neighboring rooms, and bad heating in one corner of the apartment. But it was cheap. Too bad he had to go up and down the stairs all the time.

He didn't have a problem with them when he just moved in. Generally, the most he notices is starting at the top, teleporting to the bottom, and a slight shaking of his hands that he barely glances at with empty curiosity.

As it is, some part of him knew this was going to happen. That he'd have one of those terribly introspective weeks, when he just so happens to have his new job with a boss ready to fire him and his sullen face and poor (somehow complete neutrality is offensive) attitude. He's emotionally vulnerable, and the memories on top of the stairs are devastating.

A week goes by. He's fired. He doesn't look for another job. He hasn't gone for groceries in a while. He's exhausted.

He was waiting for death, he guesses. He still wants, still feels that urge in the buzzing of his fingertips, the ghost of movement from his limbs, the phantom shiver in his back - the intent of every muscle in his body one after the other pleading with him to move, but never all at once - and Sunny laments that the human body is pretty stupid. Moving wont help. What would he do, make the end come quicker? He's already thrown away too many chances for that.

He'll stop wanting once he's gone. That's what happens when you get what you want, right?

His landlord finds him. He forgot the rent. He's taken to the hospital. Ugh.

Present:

Sunny is stunted and underweight. He wears baggy shirts stuffed into slightly less baggy hoodies, and sweats. Warmth. He couldn't find his hoodie after they took it off to put in an IV on his first trip to the hospital.

Usually nurses do things like bring food to patients, but Sunny only ever interacts with Hero and Hero wants to make sure Sunny is okay anyway. Not that it's much easier for Hero to encourage Sunny to eat.

Sunny stresses Hero the hell out. But Hero kinda missed Sunny, and his depressing and concerning reappearance brings with it a deadpan, world-weary, often childish humor that fails to take anything seriously when everything in Sunny's situation should be taken seriously. It's as much a relief as it is incredibly frustrating. Some days Hero loves it. Some days it makes him angry. Some days it makes him want to cry.

I tried doing research into the conduct Hero should display regarding patients/clients in general but it just. Any professionalism quickly devolves between him and Sunny.

As in, at one point, him and Sunny were whaling on each other about having no lives. Hero felt really bad afterwards; he had no idea what came over him. It was a great way for both of them to let out some hidden frustration, though, and they turned out fine afterwards. They even lowkey pick on each other every now and again.

Sometimes one or the other gets a bit too accurate in their teasing, however.

Psychiatrists are supposed to be able to understand, diagnose, and treat mental, emotional and behavioral disorders. So, if Hero were a completely capable psychiatrist, which he is, he wouldn't break down in front of his client. But Hero's late teenage years are wrought with so much grief and trauma, so to see Sunny and not just another client in this state is.. something i imagine he'd break down about eventually. There's also the fact that Sunny is mostly closed off to any help, which only makes things harder.

Hero is trying his best, but after years of never understanding why Mari died, years of thinking and wondering and second-guessing himself, years of guilt after never visiting Basil before he died, years of doing what he was told was "best" yet failing in what's most important to him (his friends) - his best never feels good enough around Sunny. It feels too little, too late. For this reason, and possibly because even if Hero were able to keep himself together he may just not be the right psychiatrist for Sunny, it would be better for him to find another psychiatrist for Sunny. He won't, though.

Hero really needs some time to himself to just think, or perhaps he needs someone else to talk to. Kel is nice, but Aubrey would have better experience handling emotions.

I have a very limited idea of what Aubrey and Kel are doing. Aubrey is a childcare instructor to parents and works in child services. She has studied child psychology. She has studied how childhood affects adulthood. Kel's off trying to make a name in basketball while giving kids high fives and heartfelt support.

Hero, in fact, does not like to be called Dr. Hero, but his shyness (feeling of unworthiness) about it only endears everyone to call him that more. He tells the kids that everyone calls him Hero, but the adults merely find out from the other doctors and nurses. Hero tried introducing himself as Henry to the other doctors, but Kel told them his nickname, and it stuck for obvious reasons.

Sometimes, on days when Hero has to wear his lab coat, he ties it around his neck like a cape. The kids like it, say it makes him look like a superHero.

Hero doesn't really cook. His schedule is always too busy to make anything that isn't quick. But he does eventually figure out that cooking for Sunny is the best way to entice him to eat, so when he makes something, he makes enough for both of them. They eat together.

Hero had to gather Sunny's change of clothes from his apartment when he found out that the reason Sunny has been in the same clothes for the last week is because he's had no one to visit him. Not even his mother. Why?

[condorclaw]

The different ways the DSMP characters reacted to Tommy’s return and what they dealt with in his absence

I've been thinking about today's stream (shock of the fucking century), and mmm let's just take a moment to highlight how interesting the reunions are between Tommy and the others (Sam, Jack, Tubbo, etc.) by looking at their reactions and how they felt when they heard about Tommy's death. (Note: I have not watched Ranboo or Jack's streams that take place after this one. This is only detailing the information that occurred in Tommy's stream.)

Tommy’s death impacted a lot of people, with them going through many different stages of grief and coming to a realization of their own in terms of how they viewed Tommy or the server in general. His death was sudden and gruesome, with Sam being the only one to witness the evidence, ending up leaving quite a few skeptical if he really did die.

Tommy was resurrected by Dream, and now has to deal with the reality that life was moving on, which he wanted to follow. He wanted to go back to the way how everybody treated him, but him returning is essentially a zombie to everybody else. There were many different reactions to this.

SAM

"H-How are you here...?"

Reaction: Upon hearing Tommy was still alive, Sam was frantic in getting him out, and after Tommy left the cell, Sam remained in shock, even as Tommy yelled at him. Despite not understanding what happened, Sam was willing to try and make Tommy as comfortable as possible, even putting away his sword upon Tommy's request. He remained soft-spoken throughout the process of getting Tommy out, allowing Tommy to yell and vent his heart out, even if the words were reminding Sam of his failure.

Before Tommy was found alive: Sam was the one probably most affected by Tommy's death. He was in an awful state of depression, causing his words to be softer and his actions were less calculated. Sam deeply blamed himself for Tommy's death, telling Ranboo about the extent it affected him, even implying that he would kill the one who set off the TNT, since it's what caused him to take precautions in the first place. San revealed he was tormented by Dream to both Ranboo and Foolish, with Dream laughing at Sam upon him finding Tommy's body, and demanding Sam to come into the cell so he could kill him too. Sam blamed himself for Hannah's corruption, thinking of himself as a coward for not going into the egg room due to his trauma.

TUBBO

"You're not real."

Reaction: Tubbo didn't see Tommy approach at first, since he was busy with his hotel. When Tommy startled him however, Tubbo backed away as fast as his could, breathing heavily as he tried to get his words out. Tubbo asked Tommy to pinch him to prove he was real, which Tommy did. As Tommy talks to Tubbo about what happened and how he's feeling, Tubbo tries to retain as much information as he can through the shock that Tommy was alive after another fatal incident. When Tommy asks if Tubbo can leave him alone as he processes things, Tubbo agrees to do so, but tries to secretly follow Tommy around, needing to make sure he's real.

Before Tommy was found alive: Tubbo had originally been in denial upon hearing Tommy was dead, being rather familiar with Tommy's previous assumed death. He continued to work on his hotel with Ranboo, his new husband that he got engaged to when Tommy was in prison, even adopting a son, Michael, with Ranboo. Aside from working on the hotel and spending time with Ranboo, Tubbo made it his mission to discover who planted the TNT, his denial beginning to fade as he accepted the loss of Tommy. He began to look for every possible solution, even going as far as to suspect things that are entirely unrelated to the cause. He built a memorial for Tommy outside Snowchester, building a bench, placing a jukebox, and making a prime log in his memory.

JACK

"Bigger elephant in the room, why are you alive!?"

Reaction: Jack had been working at his own hotel when Tommy came to see him. The shock from Jack was immediate, insisting that Tommy was still dead, and stating that he grieved for Tommy, so he can't be gone. He becomes so caught up in his rage, he reveals to Tommy that he had been trying to kill Tommy for months. Jack states that he went to hell, but becomes furious when Tommy fails to acknowledge it, and just brushes it off. He insists that he did everything better than Tommy ever could, and declares that he deserves to die.

Before Tommy was found alive: Jack was initially happy upon Tommy's death, declaring that he had won the fight against him. As time stretched on though, Jack began to lament over his and Tommy's shared history, realizing that Tommy was his closest friend on the sever, and that he had been angry due to believing that Tommy valued the discs above everything else. He decided to let go of his anger, and wanted to start all over again. With this mindset, he burned down his old house, and was the one who told several of the server members about Tommy's death, including Quackity and Ant.

CONNOR

"I just got this house, like, two days ago."

Reaction: When Tommy entered his house, Connor was scared, seeing Tommy as a ghost and hitting him, which triggered Tommy. Realizing that Tommy was alive, Connor asked if this meant he had to move back into Ninja's house, and showed Tommy his diary, with the third page sharing that he missed Tommy. Because Connor was the only one treating him like he always had, Tommy told Connor about how touch triggered him. He tells Connor about what happened, which allows Connor to express his feelings of wanting to improve the prison system. He patiently listens to Tommy talk, not asking Tommy about what happened after Tommy shares his discomfort in talking about it. Before the two separate, Connor says they can talk about the system when Tommy's feeling better.

Before Tommy was found alive (note: I haven't watched the stream yet, so I'll be describing past moments from their relationship): Connor has always had an interesting relationship with Tommy, the two being on rather neutral terms with some sort of understanding between them. Connor and Tommy had conflict at the beginning, but there was care shown between them. Even after Tommy and Technoblade kidnapped and traumatized him, Connor expressed that he didn't feel like Tommy was bad, just conflicted. He was one of the few adults who didn't believe that Tommy should be punished for things he couldn't control. Despite their bickering and occasional frustration towards each other, Connor does see Tommy as just a kid who got caught up in something, and Tommy does care about Connor as a friend.

RANBOO

"You're, uh... You're here! Wow! That's, uh, that's cool."

Reaction: Upon Ranboo and Tommy seeing each other, they both stared in silence at first, even when Tubbo went to slightly hide behind Ranboo. Ranboo tried to initiate casual conversation with Tommy while trying to process his return, asking Tommy how he's been. The conversation would occasionally get interrupted as Tubbo tried to make little advances towards Ranboo, making him amused. Ranboo tried to ask Tommy about how he was alive, and tells Tommy how he learned about his death through Sam. Tommy expressed his discomfort, frustratedly asking Ranboo if Tubbo was now his new best friend. Ranboo tried to give Tommy an allium flower, but Tommy immediately burned it out of frustration, stunning Ranboo a bit. Tommy leaves after saying he's uncomfortable, leaving Ranboo behind as Tubbo continues on to follow Tommy.

Before Tommy was found alive: Tommy's death affected Ranboo greatly, making him question the morality of everybody around him, leading him to lash out at Sam for allowing Tommy to go anywhere near Dream, and making Ranboo believe that people were only sad about Tommy because he was dead. Ranboo especially reflected on his first meeting with Tommy, thinking about how he threw away the allium flower Ranboo had given him. Later he realized that Tommy had never thrown it away, and understands that Tommy did actually care about him. Ranboo thinks of himself as responsible for Tommy's exile, and has to juggle with these thoughts alongside keeping his new alliance from discovering his secret husband and son. Ranboo became very protective of Tubbo and Michael, helping Tubbo deal with his grief and conveying that Michael was the only constant happiness he has in his life.

QUACKITY

"T-Tommy! Welcome back, Tommy!"

Reaction: When Tommy approached him, Quackity had stepped back, believing that it was somebody else in a Tommy costume, and calling them horrible for wearing it. After he sees Tubbo watching Tommy closely, reality starts to settle in, and after Tommy talks about a specific experience he had with Quackity, Quackity becomes overjoyed at his return, telling Tommy about his business plan and becomes excited that Tommy will be able to see it. Quackity also asks about the revival book, which Tommy uncomfortably tells him about, recounting memories from his death. He says goodbye to Quackity after that, but before he leaves, Quackity gives Tommy a fish, joking that he "found Nemo". Before he leaves, he says the two should catch up sometime, and dashes away happily, with his last words being: "what the fuck, that green son of a b-".

Before Tommy was found alive: Quackity hadn't been seen much around the server, his last big interaction being with Jack when he learned about Tommy's death. Upon hearing that he died, Quackity tried to hide his feelings, insisting that the business came first, despite how sorrowful he sounded. Before that, Quackity had been a very positive figure in Tommy's life, willing to defend him against Dream's unfair rules and harsh actions. He had visited Tommy in exile, even becoming worried for his mental health at specific points. Quackity cares a lot for Tommy, and though he won't outright state it, he has a strong connection with him.

CONCLUSION

Everybody on the server has had different interactions with Tommy, and were all affected in different ways when he died. Upon him leaving the prison and turning up alive, they all had different reactions to his return, each relating to their own character and what they experienced while he was away. They all showed different kinds of headspaces, ranging from overjoyed to furious, and Tommy had his own thoughts on each of them as well.

TLDR: Everybody's interactions with Tommy made sense with their characters' histories with him, and all express different kinds of thoughts and reactions that people can go through.

Now let's get all these fuckers some therapy, let's fucking goooooo.

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Part 4

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: depression

Words: 2.2k

Summary: to everyone she knew, [y/n] was a peasant, destined to be a servant just like her parents. To Zuko, however, she was his best friend. After losing his agni kai and being exiled, [y/n] was devastated. She thought she would never see him again. Three years later, she almost wished he never came back.

A/N: here it is! I finally got it out after a busy few weeks :)

Part 3 <- Part 4 -> Part 5

Series | Masterlist

[Y/n] clutched at her chest. Her breathing suddenly became short and shallow. Her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest.

“W-what?” [Y/n] croaked. Her face contorted in confusion and shock.

“I know. It’s just horrible, isn’t it?” Azula lamented.

[Y/n] was speechless, but her mind rambled rampantly. What happened to him? How did he go missing? Was he taken? By who? Where would he be? She had so many questions, but it wasn’t her place ask any of them.

“But it’s strange,” Azula continued, putting a long, sharp fingernail to her chin, “the day Zuko disappeared, he wrote Mai a break up letter. It’s almost like he left on his own accord, like it was planned...”

But...why would he leave? [Y/n] was puzzled, and Azula, as perceptive as she always was, knew exactly what she was thinking.

“We called you here because we hoped you knew something that we didn’t. You are his best friend, of course. But, according to what you said, he didn’t give you any notice that he was leaving. What a pathetic way to treat his best friend,” she remarked.

“I’m so sorry, Princess Azula and Firelord Ozai. I really wish I could help.”

Azula turned her back to [y/n]. “Father, is there anything you’d like to say?”

Firelord Ozai silently shook his head. He never spoke a word, yet [y/n] felt terrified by the man, and the silent gesture sent shivers down her spine. Azula turned back around to face [y/n]. “You’re dismissed.”

On her way home, [y/n] did her best to hold herself together and remain calm. Some tears managed to escape. But once she got home, she collapsed. Streams of tears coated her face and neck. She choked on her sobs. She felt so many emotions, but, most of all, she was in utter disbelief.

Zuko was gone. Again.

This time he left on his own. But why? Was he really that unhappy? He had so many wonderful things: royalty, honor, prestige, riches and wealth, his lavish home--a royal palace--and a beautiful girlfriend among so many other things. Was it not enough?

Regardless of the reason, [y/n] felt just as devastated as she did three years ago. Only this time she blamed herself for being so upset. Not only did she push him away over something completely stupid, she also took their friendship for granted.

Zuko was [y/n]'s only real friend, and, despite being royalty, he was always so kind to her. She wanted to kick herself for not spending time with him that one day. She should've accepted the offer. She should've gotten over her dumb feelings.

Now, once again, [y/n] didn't know if she would ever see him again.

Days passed. Then, days turned to weeks. And weeks to months.

Like three years ago, it was hard to get out of bed, it was hard to eat anything, it was hard to focus on simple tasks. Some days, she felt sadness. Other days, it was anger. On rare occasions, she felt content, until grief would knock her down like a tidal wave.

[Y/n] kept the letter Zuko wrote to her under her pillow. It was the only thing she had left of him...a relic of a recent past, a brief reunion, that felt so long ago. At night, she would gingerly trace the paint brushed characters with her finger. And when she cried, she made sure her tears never touched the ink so that she could trace them again the next day.

Like three years ago, [y/n] faced reality and came to terms with what happened. Maybe her and Zuko were never meant to be. Or maybe the universe gave her what she wanted all those months ago: distance from the prince to kill her love for him.

Another evacuation of the city was ordered. This time, [y/n] had no idea why. She didn’t speak to her parents as often as she used too, and, with what happened recently, her mother was extra cautious about gossiping around her. [Y/n] didn’t expect anything crazy to happen anyway. They would leave, they would come back, and that would be it.

But when [y/n] and her parents marched through the streets back to their apartment, they saw something incredibly unusual. Messenger hawks were cawing and soaring all across the skies, and people in different colored clothing were bustling about all over the city. It was like they stumbled into a whole different world.

Groups of people wearing shades of green were earthbending to repair burned buildings. A few people in shades of blue were gently waterbending on people who appeared to be injured.

[Y/n] was amazed. She had only heard about other forms of bending; this was her first time seeing them with her own eyes. She had also never seen such beautiful garbs either. All of her life had been spent living in the Fire Nation, which was like living in a bubble. She genuinely had no idea what the rest of the world was like aside from what her parents had told her, which was not a lot.

[Y/n] was also confused. What’s going on? Why are they here? What happened? She wasn’t the only one who was puzzled. Her parents and all the other Fire Nation citizens looked just as confused as her. Particularly, the nobles seemed frustrated. Perhaps it was best not to question it.

As [y/n] and her parents quietly made their way to the apartment, they overheard lots of chatter...

“...Ozai imprisoned...” “...Sozin’s comet...” “...burn down Ba Sing Se...” “...Avatar Aang...” “...Azula should be next...” “...the last airbender...” “...just a group of kids...” “...this is treachery...”

And when they reached their home, they were met with a messenger hawk perched on their window. Her father removed the letter from the hawk’s leg. After a quick glance, he smiled widely and handed the letter to [y/n].

“It’s for you,” he told her cheerfully. [Y/n] raised an eyebrow and took it. She unrolled the parchment and, immediately, her eyes widened. She recognized the handwriting.

Dear [y/n], I hope you’re well. I’m so sorry for disappearing without saying anything. I can explain, in fact, I have so much I want to tell you! Before I do, I want to invite you to my coronation ceremony. Yes, you read that right! I’m going to be the next Firelord! If anyone should be at the ceremony, it should be you. I hope to see you there! Your friend, Zuko

[Y/n] stared at the letter, jaw slacked.

“[Y/n], sweetie, are you okay?” [Y/n]’s mother delicately placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I can’t believe it...” she shook her head at the letter. “Zuko is back, and he’s going to be Firelord!”

A long, scarlet red tunic draped over [y/n]’s body. The ends of the fabric trailed behind her through the air. Her shoes clacked on the marble flooring, sending echoes down the hallways of the palace. Her [h/c] hair was coiled into a bun and held together with a single, long, gold colored pin.

For the first time in a long time, [y/n] held her head high and stood straight when she walked. She did a complete 180. Her best friend had returned and she was more than excited to see him again. Today was Zuko's coronation ceremony, as well as a second chance to tell him how she really felt.

Sure, Mai and Zuko had a brief relationship when he first returned, and maybe that break up letter was just a way out. But what if it wasn't? And besides, [y/n] was tired of being sad and pathetic. She wanted to tell him. No, she needed to tell him, she had to get it off her chest, and she was not going to waste this opportunity.

The reception was held in the palace ballroom. It was a grand room, perfect for the size of the large crowd that appeared at the ceremony. Paper lanterns and drapes of all colors hung from the walls and ceiling, giving it a festive atmosphere. A small band played soft, up-beat music in the background. Some people danced, some mingled and others ate food that [y/n] could smell from the moment she walked in.

[Y/n] searched the sea of green and blue for red. It wouldn't be hard considering how few of her own people attended the coronation (so few, they stuck out like sore thumbs). Then, she spotted him, the new, young Firelord, speaking to a group of people that appeared to close in their age.

“[Y/n]!" Zuko called, waving his hand. "I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Of course, I made it. I would never miss your coronation,” [y/n] said, hugging Zuko before continuing more quietly, “especially after you disappeared again.”

“I know. I’m sorry, [y/n], I had to do it. But I should’ve told you. You of all people deserved to know,” he quietly responded in her ear.

Zuko tightened his embrace before pulling away and looking at [y/n] apologetically. She gave him a nod and small smile. [Y/n] didn't have the full context of what happened, but she knew her friend was sincere in his apology (though, that didn't diminish the pain she had felt).

“There are some people I want you to meet. These are my friends.”

Zuko gestured to the group of teens and kids he was just talking to. A Water Tribe boy and girl who were siblings, two Earth Kingdom girls—one with lots of makeup on and one who was blind—and, of course, the Avatar himself.

“It’s so nice to meet you all, especially you, Avatar Aang. It’s an absolute honor,” [y/n] said, bowing respectfully. Aang beamed and bowed in return.

“Soooo, Zuko, is this the girl you were talking about?” The Water Tribe boy, Sokka barely whispered, nudging Zuko with his elbow.

Zuko chuckled, “yeah, this is [y/n]. We've known each other for years. Now, if you'll excuse us,” Zuko spoke to his friends before turning to [y/n], “I believe we have some catching up to do.”

“Oh, yes we do!” [Y/n] said with glee.

Together they departed the group and walked out onto the balcony.

Outside, the sun was setting, radiating gold and orange hues, which merged into the deep blue sky up above. Only a few of the brightest stars in the sky sparkled. Down below, Caldera City glittered with lanterns, outlining the streets and houses of their people.

[Y/n] admired the view. It certainly wasn't often that she got to see the city like this. Then, Zuko began talking.

Three years was a long time, and this conversation proved it. It was long overdue. Neither of them realized how much time had passed, but, to them, it felt like they talked for hours outside.

Zuko explained everything as promised: the hundred year war, what banishment was like, what the outside world was like, how he really felt when he came home, when he realized that his father was an abusive, cruel leader and that his destiny was to help the Avatar, how he escaped, and all of the incredible adventures he had with his new friends, including the historic defeat of Azula and Ozai during Sozin’s comet.

[Y/n] was flabbergasted. “Wow...that’s...just...I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I know. It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Zuko asked, leaning his forearms on the balcony railing.

“Yeah. I had no idea we were such a horrible country. We've been lied to and sheltered this whole time. It all makes sense now.” Zuko hummed in agreement.

“You’re so brave for leaving and going against your family. It must’ve been hard and really dangerous.”

“You have no idea.” Zuko looked into the distance and slowly shook his head. “But it all worked out, and I’m back—for good this time!”

"Well, you have no idea how glad I am about that!"

Zuko smiled and placed his hand on [y/n]'s shoulder, giving it a gentle rub.

"So, there's something I want to talk to you about," Zuko continued in a more serious tone. [Y/n]'s head perked up.

"Okay. I actually have something I want to tell you too, but you go first," [y/n] said. Her heart already began to race in anticipation.

"Well, I was thinking. You've been my best friend for a really long time…"

Suddenly, [y/n]'s palms sweated and her heart picked up the pace. She gulped.

"So, I was wondering if you'd like to—"

“Zuko! There you are.”

[Y/n] turned toward the doorway. She felt Zuko immediately retract his hand from her shoulder at the sight of a woman. A tall woman wearing a beautiful, wine colored, silk robe, whose dark hair was bunched up into two buns.

Mai.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” Mai walked up to Zuko’s side and wrapped her arms around his bicep.

“Sorry, Mai. I was just catching up with [y/n],” Zuko replied.

“I see.” Mai turned to [y/n]. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, um, it’s good to see you too.” [Y/n] couldn’t tell if Mai was being genuine or not. Likely, she wasn’t.

“Well, I hope you don’t mine me stealing Zuko from you. He promised to dance with me tonight,” Mai said, cupping his cheek. The two smiled at each other.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten," Zuko said. "[Y/n], we’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yeah...”

And she watched the two walk away, arms linked.

[cosmicjoke]

Ohh, just got through reading chapter 53 of AoT, and boy oh boy, was there some incredible stuff here not included in the anime.

Well, the first scene that really stood out to me was after the hardening experiments with Eren fail, and we get that whole scene with Levi kind of berating Eren for his failure, before assuring Mikasa that he isn’t blaming Eren, and launching into his monologue about how he’d only started noticing the stink inside the walls a few years ago, and how it’s been like this for a hundred years, how they’ve all been prisoners for that whole time.  What I love about this scene is how Hange steps in eventually and helps Levi out, because he’s trying to explain that they need to keep trying, and not give up, even if Eren failed at hardening himself, but he’s doing a bad job of getting what he means across.  We start to really see the relationship between Levi and Hange developing here, and are shown an aspect of it we haven’t really seen before, which is Hange sort of serving as Levi’s translator of sorts, understanding that he isn’t always so good at expressing himself.  The way Levi seems to calm down after she steps in, and then confirms for Hange that she’s right about what he meant, before thanking her, is incredibly poignant in its way.  This is one thing Levi’s not good at.  He’s not good at expressing himself, or making himself clear in words, and you can see his frustration in this scene, trying to impress upon Eren and all of them what he means, but being unable to really do so, coming across more harshly than he intends.  We see that because Mikasa thinks he’s blaming Eren, but he’s not, and he says so, but he can’t get across what he IS trying to say.  So it’s just really sweet, the way Hange swoops in and kind of rescues him here, and explains to everyone what he really means.  You can feel Levi’s gratitude towards her for that.

Of course there’s the big scene in this chapter that I always see everyone lamenting that they didn’t include in the anime, and that’s the scene in Trost with the merchants.  I’ve seen other people point out that Levi doesn’t at all argue with or fight back against the merchants who are verbally accosting him and the SC in general.  He doesn’t try to defend himself, or in any way downplay the merchants complaints or criticisms.  He COULD, because of course what they’re saying about the SC is all wrong, about them being lazy, or doing nothing to help people, etc...  And particularly, Levi could defend himself and be right to do so, because he himself had nothing to do with the higher up’s decisions to evacuate the city, etc...  But he doesn’t.  He just stands there and lets these people vent their frustrations and fears out onto him.  This scene really tells us so much about Levi, who he is as a person, and, I know like I’m sounding like a broken record here, but his deep compassion and understanding for other people and what they’re feeling and going through.  Because of Levi’s own, deprived background, the poverty and starvation he experienced as a child, you can see Levi has deep empathy for these people’s particular plight of being unable to put food on the table, or earn enough money to really live.  Levi’s got this despairing look on his face throughout this whole scene, and then of course, the big, telling moment is when he looks up and sees the woman with her child.  Others have pointed out already how Levi was no doubt thinking of his own mother in this moment, and remembering the hardship and pain of their own lives together in the Underground.  Just seeing Levi’s capacity here for empathy and understanding is really extraordinary.  One moment in particular though really stands out to me, and again is such a perfect demonstration of Levi’s goodness.  When Levi, after taking this verbal abuse, suddenly hears a carriage approaching them, and realizes in a panic that all of these people that have surrounded him are in danger, and he cries for them to watch out, before kicking one of the men directly in the way of the carriage out of its path, and elbowing the other who’d just put his hands on him in a violent, aggressive manner, also out of the way.  He saves the lives of two men who had just been ragging HARD on him and completely dismissing everything he had lost and suffered, had even started to mock him.  He doesn’t even think about it, or hesitate.  He just automatically does all he can to prevent them from being crushed under the carriages wheels.  Again, this is just such a powerful demonstration of the goodness of Levi’s heart.  It doesn’t matter that these men seemed to dislike, even hate him, and had been trying to shame him and humiliate him and drag him just moments before.  All that matters is saving their lives, and that’s what Levi does, despite their unkindness towards him.  This really was an incredible moment.  I mean, damn, Levi is just such a good person, he really is.  It’s just intrinsically who he is.  He doesn’t have to think about saving or helping others, or convince himself that he should.  He just DOES, even when those same people have shown him nothing but scorn or derision.  

Another moments that stood out to me in this chapter too was Erwin’s conversation with Nile, and particularly the last exchange between them before Erwin leaves the carriage, when he tells Niles he was fond of Marie too, and Nile spits back at him that there’s something wrong with him for choosing Titans over her.  Here we really start to see Erwin’s sense of guilt and regret for the first time, his sadness and depression.  His look of resignation after Nile leaves, and just this awful sense of loneliness that clearly weighs down on him, is really heartbreaking.  There’s such a tragic isolation to him in this moment, and I think Nile himself knows he shouldn’t have said what he did to Erwin, shouldn’t have been so unkind.  

Another moment too, though, was how after Levi receives Erwin’s instructions, despite him starting to form his own doubts as to Erwin’s intentions and motivations, he still trusts him to make the right decisions.  What Levi says here to his squad, asking them if they trust Erwin, and if any of them are “dumb enough” to, they should follow him.  This tells us that Levi still DOES trust Erwin, which speaks to the level of faith Levi had in him, even after having that faith shaken in chapter 51.  He’s still willing to follow his plans and believe in him and his vision.  When people say Levi is Erwin’s connection to his own humanity, I think this is a perfect demonstration of that too.  Levi never abandons Erwin, never gives up on him, never leaves him alone.  So as lonely as Erwin seems in that panel, after Nile says such unkind things to him, the truth is, Levi is still in his corner, is still there for Erwin, as a comrade, and as a friend.  It’s that refusal to give up on Erwin, I think, that allows Erwin to hang on to his own sense of humanity.  

[foilfreak]

BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 8

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 Link Below:)

Several days had passed since Salvatore had sought out both his younger sisters, requesting items like jewelry or clothing they’d be willing to part with that Salvatore could gift to Nadine, as a sort of soft and informal introduction to ease the young woman’s mind and prove he meant her no harm.

The plan seems to be going rather well, as far as Salvatore can tell. Nadine found the gifts he’d laid out for her rather easily, and even correctly wondered if the person who lived here had left them for her purposefully. She seemed wary of the items for a time, though she seemed pretty wary of everything in the reservoir at the moment, but eventually she deemed them safe enough to accept, throwing the long white nightgown Salvatore had procured from Donna over her petit azure frame, and strapping the delicate golden locket Alcina had graciously donated around her neck.

Salvatore practically drooled when he first saw Nadine, slightly sheer satin nightgown flowing elegantly in the gentle afternoon breeze and golden chain glittering beautifully against her white speckled, ocean blue skin. She looked like a goddess, a true figure of pure ethereal power and beauty. Even the biting cold of winter wasn’t enough to touch the young woman, shielded and protected by her own glowing radiance.

Despite looking every bit like an other-worldly deity worthy of unending human devotion and worship, Nadine’s face held nothing but fear, anxiety, and loneliness as she aimlessly wandered the seemingly empty docks and windmills surrounding the reservior’s watery interior. An occasional dejected “hello?” still echoes out throughout the reservoir every few hours, growing less and less hopeful with each passing round of silence Salvatore spends hiding away from view.

The disfigured man’s heart twists and stabs in pain every time he cowers away from Nadine’s soft, anxious calls, desperately wanting to comfort the young woman in her moment of confusion and fear, but still so terrified of her inevitable reaction to his appearance that he finds himself unable to do anything but skitter shamefully to his room beneath the surface and try to drown her out with one of his old romance films.

How pitiful.

Salvatore spends much of his time lamenting and pitying himself over his soul crushing loneliness and his intense desire for a love of his own, and yet here he is, taking refuge in an old romance film while he hides himself away from the real woman he could be making his own romance film with, were he not a massive coward and a horrific freak of nature unworthy of anyone’s love and affection, of course. What a cruel irony it is, to have the one thing you want, more than anything else in the world, dangled just inches in front of your face, and yet knowing, before you’ve even tried, that it’ll never be yours.

Salvatore knows that no matter how much of a romance story this whole situation might seem like, Nadine will never be able to love him in the way the gorgeous women in the movies love their tall, dashing, dark-haired lover men. Not only was Salvatore the exact opposite of tall and dashing by literally everyone’s standards, but his patches of dry, greasy dark-hair did little to salvage the violent wreckage that was Salvatore’s whole appearance.

There was absolutely no way Nadine would ever be able to love someone as hideous as Salvatore, so perhaps the best thing to do would be to contact Miranda and inform her that, while he greatly enjoyed his gift, Salvatore didn’t feel he would be able to appreciate her in the way she deserved to be appreciated in all her beauty and wonder, and that perhaps it would be better for Mother Miranda to find better arrangements for her elsewhere.

“I-it’s for the b-best… i-i think… a-after all… Nadine… d-doesn’t want t-to live i-in a d-dingy place… l-like this for… for the r-rest of h-her… l-life… m-much less with… w-with someone l-like me… s-she’d hate th-that… im c-certain” Salvatore laments aloud, dipping his head downward as tears of painful realization and sorrowful acceptance pour down his face like waterfalls of lonely depression, already fully set on contacting Mother Miranda as soon as morning came.

“While it's very kind of you to keep my best interest in mind, I do think I am more than capable of making my own decisions regarding what’s the best place for me, thank you very much” a soft voice responded suddenly, causing Salvatore’s head to whip in the direction the sound was coming from in startled shock. “This place is a little rundown, sure, but the windmills still stand tall and the water is always just the right temperature, so I don’t think this would be the worst place to live, if I had to… so long as I wasn’t alone, at least.”

Even in the dimly lit area located at the end of the hallway, Nadine still looked so gorgeously stunning and elegant. It was incredible how she managed to sound so casual and yet look so ethereal.

In the brief moment before his panic set in, Salvatore couldn’t help but pause and marvel at the spot down the hall where the young woman stood, her gaze locked directly onto him and yet she showed no signs of having seen him. She even went as far as to begin moving about behind the large boards that blocked her from entering the room, clearly trying to get a better look at the room and, more importantly, the person she suspects is in it.

After a surprisingly large jump that launched Nadine all the way up to the ceiling, just narrowly avoiding hitting her head, Salvatore’s eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open in stupefied shock as the sight of Nadine, moving the way she was at the end of the hallway, brought to Salvatore’s mind a scene from one of his favorite romance films. In the particular scene Salvatore is thinking of, the actress’ character is an aspiring prima ballerina, and she’s having a brief moment of bonding with her fellow ballerina’s after a long, but successful performance. Dressed in a nightgown not too unlike the one Nadine is currently wearing, the ballerina is showing the others how to do other kinds of dance, like polka or Irish step dancing, but by the end of the scene the group of ballerinas are all merely jumping about the room excitedly, laughing and cheering while carelessly throwing themselves into the air, only to land gracefully back on their feet.

While not exactly the same obviously, the resemblance between Nadine and the absolutely stunning ballerina in the movie, in both silhouette and style of movement, was almost uncanny.

Stretched out as high as her short legs would allow, strong and gorgeously defined muscles flexed almost instinctually with every rapid twist, curl, bend, and jump of the young woman’s tiny body. Her lucious silhouette was only aided by the feminine aura of the long, sheer nightgown as it trailed after her with every movement. The delicate satin material caresses the sharp ridges of her muscular back and shoulders with the same tenderness and love as it does the weight of her breasts or the pillowy layer of protection atop her midsection. The lower half of the nightgown, cinched just below the breasts, twisted and jerked in whatever direction was necessary to keep up with the speed at which Nadine was fluttering and jumping about upon the tips of her toes. Her legs were hidden by the ferocious speed of her movements, but Salvatore did not need to see her legs to have some idea of what they were, or perhaps merely could be, capable of.

Whether or not Nadine was actually a ballerina herself, or if Salvatore’s delusions were merely that realistic now, the young woman appeared to move with nothing but effortless grace that hides the raw power and physical strength it takes to float as carelessly and as quickly as the young woman was, clearly growing more and more frustrated the longer her search failed to reveal what she was looking for.

Still paralyzed by the sudden presence of Nadine in his personal space, Salvatore could do nothing but hold his breath and hope that the light at the end of the hall didn’t reach far enough to reveal his presence in the room. The TV was still on, but the movie playing on it had finished running long ago, meaning the only thing being displayed now was a static filled screen that proved someone had been here at some point in time, but thankfully wasn’t a dead giveaway from the start.

“Helloooooooo… I heard someone talking on my way in, so I know that someone is down here. Please… just come out, ok… I won’t hurt you… honestly” the raven haired woman begs softly, her movements slowing a bit to allow more of her air to be used for speaking rather than jumping to look over beams over and over again.

Salvatore’s heart ached at Nadine’s desperate tone, knowing all too well what the mutant woman is going through right now, but trying his best to remain strong, since giving in means dooming this perfect young specimen to a life of bitter misery and unending terror, regardless of the best effort he’d try to put in. Whatever short term gain Nadine could get from being with him would only come back to bleed her dry once Salvatore was sufficiently attached, and therefore unable to allow her to leave once she inevitably decides that she’s had enough of pretending to love a disgusting freak of nature.

Salvatore had never been very good at accurately predicting the outcomes of situations, but he knew for certain that Nadine was in no way deserving of the hellish punishment that living in the reservoir with him would undoubtedly become, if it didn’t start out that way from the beginning, that is. Perhaps the young woman could convince herself to accept her situation and play into his affections as a means of survival for a short time, but based on what he’s heard of Nadine thus far, Salvatore doubts such a strongwilled and dangerous woman would allow herself to play wife and sex slave to anyone for very long. If she didn’t somehow successfully murder him in his sleep within the first 48 hours of her “slavery”, it would only be a matter of time before she finally ran out of patience and unleashed... whatever the hell it was she did back in the labs, upon him.

For a brief moment, Salvatore entertains the question of whether Nadine could potentially be strong enough to take him out with a single hit, as well as whether that thought should be something he finds arousing or not. His thoughts are quickly interrupted however, by the sound of shuffling and grunting, and upon turning his head toward the sudden racket, Salvatore is horrified to see Nadine, just small enough to fit her tiny body between the thin cracks of the boarded up wall, attempting to climb through the barrier, and enter the TV room.

Body shaking and voice beginning to tremble slightly, alongside his already labored breathing, Salvatore unsteadily backed his way further into the room, putting his hands out in front of him as if to try and stop Nadine from entering, though he makes no move to physically eject the invading woman himself, oddly enough.

“N-nooo… p-please… don’t come i-in...” Salvatore stutters helplessly, shrinking further in on himself in fear as the young woman effortlessly slips through the wooden boards like a slippery eel, quickly and easily landing on her feet before turning back to the mostly darkened room.

“H-Hello?” Nadine calls out again nervously, taking a tentative step forward, both hands extended outward beside her until her left hand made contact with the wall. Gaining some purchase on the vertical slabs of wood, Nadine slowly turns her head to look about the room, carefully inspecting everything from atop the surface of Salvatore’s messy desk, to the very dark corner in the back right of the room that Salvatore himself was currently shoved as far into as physically possible.

Nadine stuck her arm out in front of her and began slowly walking toward the opposite wall, eyes open, but unfocused, and right hand waving aimlessly in the air for a brief moment, as though trying to feel around for the other wall despite it clearly being right in front of her. The hooded man had no idea how she hadn’t seen him yet, he could practically feel how absolutely ridiculous he looked, his bony, weathered, turtle-esque body hunched as low to the ground as possible with his chin tucked between his knees and hands covering the rest of his face, leaving only the smallest bit of space through which he could observe Nadine’s inevitable reaction to him. And yet, despite the amount of time the young woman spent glancing over Salvatore, back and forth across the room, her bright golden eyes resembling that of a ravenous alligator in their intensity and ferociousness, no scream left her plush lips nor did fear and horror suddenly mar her supple face. In fact, not only had the mutant woman not seen him yet, but it was in that exact moment that the reason why Nadine couldn’t see Salvatore, obviously shoved into the corner, just to her bottom left, became immediately clear to him.

“Y-You’re blind...”

[dimonds456]

What was “A Picture Perfect Hollywood Heartbreak” Really About?

What was Zach Callison’s A Picture Perfect Hollywood Heartbreak really about?

Hey all you people out there! How are you surviving quarantine? I had a bunch of spare time, and so I decided to write an essay that focuses on Zach Callison’s album, A Picture Perfect Hollywood Heartbreak. The album has been out for a while, but most people either only know Interlude IV or are really confused about the story it tells. I think I’ve finally got an answer, and I wanted to share it with you all.

If you’re only here to better understand Interlude IV, you can skip down there if you want, but you’ll still be pretty confused. Besides, you should listen to the rest of the album. The whole thing bops. 

Personal favorite song is Phantom Love, but I’m pretty sure no one cares about that.

Anyways, on to the show! One song at a time, in order.

WARNING: REALLY, REALLY LONG POST UNDER THE CUT!!

Phantom Love

Phantom Love sets up the whole story for us. Juanita is Zach’s old GF, who appears to only have dated him so she could get ideas for a music album she was writing. However, she had no ideas and/or is a masochist, and so wanted to get Zach to either break up with her, do something horrible to her, or just create drama in general she could write about. Whatever happens happens, and she is successful. 

Juanita seems to be suffering from some form of depression, but whether that’s actually the case or she, again, just wanted something to write about is up for debate. But either way, it’s hinted at several times that she slit her wrists and other self-harm-inducing activities. 

Many people follow her- she seems to be popular enough (which makes sense, due to the album being about two celebrities dating each other, just like Zach’s irl relationship). However, she has two different faces- her showbiz the-cameras-are-on face and her real face. Zach seems to have the same thing, as hinted at in She Don’t Know, but we’re not there yet. Point is, Juanita used Zach to try and get a tragedy out of the whole deal.

It was a phantom love- it never existed. 

“Made me promise I would never break your heart

How was I to know that’s what you wanted from the start?”

Both people got into Hollywood from a young age and grew up with it, and so were surrounded by drama constantly. This takes a toll on Zach, but he tries to deal with it whereas Juanita actively wants to partake in it. She causes drama- little triggers to get him to snap- until one day, he does.

Interlude I - Frantically

This one is pretty straight-forward. After the two break up, it’s the perfect excuse for Juanita to start spreading rumors and stirring tension. She’s quick to make Zach out to be the bad guy, when in actuality, he was the one who was being loyal in their relationship.

We’re clued in that these rumors aren’t true from one line: “I heard he got fired from that cartoon he does. (Nooo wayyy…)” We, as the audience, know for a fact he didn’t, but things get shaky as we realize that some of them are also true. 

“I heard he does coke now and, like, screams a lot.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

[laughter]

Zach overhears them talking about them and runs away, going off somewhere to be alone. Once he’s alone, we get the disturbing audio of him sniffing some drugs, implying that he actually does, indeed, do coke.

DISCLAIMER: Irl Zach Callison did NOT turn to drugs! It’s a metaphor for how many people he knows who have decided to do so, and so he;s aware of what it does to one’s mind. Don’t worry; Zach is okay in that department.

She Don't Know

After gaining the following knowledge, this song is easier to understand. Zach really did love Juanita, and he misses her, even though he knows at this point that she used and abused him. 

“There ain’t no drug in all the world like loving you

Cocaine and cigarettes will have to do

Won’t somebody save me? My heart’s beating outta m’ chest

I just wanna hold you with those hands I once possessed.”

Juanita isn’t aware of the effect she had on him, and he laments this quite strongly (hence the title). Once she had her heartbreak, she ran off, leaving a broken lover behind. 

Trigger warning: there are hints of suicidal thoughts in this song. They get more prominent as the album goes on, which becomes important later. This is where we really start seeing them, though.

“F***ed up on my bedroom floor

And my first thought’s ‘let’s do some more’

They say it all kills for thrills

And I hope it does!

Can you hear me, love?”

He speaks about “where did I go” later on, meaning that he is losing himself/doesn’t feel like himself. He still wants to be with her, and her absence has utterly destroyed him. He’s still in love with her, and wants her to know that. However, Juanita doesn’t give a bat of the eye in his direction, only caring that she now had the material she needed to write her album.

Interlude II - Christie Only Knows

Here, we are introduced to Zach’s make-believe sister, Christie. Only she is aware that he is going through this, and we find out quickly that she isn’t supportive.

“It’s getting late now, but to me, it’s just beginning

‘Cuz life’s tearing me to pieces and I know I’ve been defeated

Oh, no

And Christie only knows.

Never seen someone like this before

An eight-ball power on the floor

And I’m staring at the ceiling 

Wondering if the reaper’s close

But Christie only knows

That there ain’t no drug in all the world like being you

\Glory on the silver screen just had to do

Won’t somebody save me? I am screaming out of breath

And my shadow, he’s holding a gun…

With those hands that I once possessed…”

This is the only time I’ll put all the lyrics in here, I swear. However, this one is important as it paves the way to Nightmare, bridging the gap between the two moods. She Don’t Know is angry, stressed, unsure, and frustrated, whereas Nightmare is just… depression. Interlude II is the middle ground, showing us that once Zach got all that off his chest, he feels… numb. He doesn’t know what to do. 

Now, who exactly is Christie? I don’t think she really exists, in the context of the album, that is. I believe that Christie is someone he’s hallucinating, an embodiment of all his most negative thoughts, sugarcoated into something pretty and worth listening to. We’ll explore her character later on in Interlude IV - Showtime, but for now, what you need to know is that his suicidal thoughts are getting more and more intense now that she’s here.

A sister is someone who you’re bonded to, whether it be in blood, relationship, or cause. In this case, I think it’s more relationship. She is telling him to let go, to accept that things are this way and won’t get better. It’d be easier to end it. And Zach is listening to her. We know this because of the line “And my shadow, he’s holding a gun with those hands that I once possessed…” He is seriously thinking about it, and the fact that it’s his shadow shows that the thought is always in the back of his mind. The same thoughts that led him to love Juanita are now ready to kill him- those same, once-steady hands he used to hold her with. And he’s done. He’s holding on by a thread.

Nightmare

This song is told in the 3rd person as Zach really explains what he’s been going through each and every day that lead him to this fateful decision to end it. He is done. He’s decided it. 

Every day, he cries. He hates himself, he hates looking at himself, he hates all of it. 

“Prosecutor at his own trial, 

The floor below him becomes so fertile 

by his very own vile, Nile, and exile source 

By the pitter-patter of his tears on the bathroom tile… 

...you’re nothing more than your feelings 

from your floors to your ceilings 

and out the all-bloodshot ocular faucets… 

Boy vs brain, white noise vs the sane, 

always vs the same, cries for help exclaim 

that he’s beyond repair. He’ll swear, he’ll despair, he’ll stare 

straight ahead in the mirror at the source of his waking nightmare.”

There’s an instrumental break, during which he says “Are you writing this down, Christie? Yeah…” This shows that he’s lamenting to himself, as again, Christie doesn’t really exist. He’s venting to her, jotting down everything that’s wrong with him.

This tells me that he’s writing a note. He is telling someone where he’s going and why he did what he’s about to do. Remember, Christie is in Zach’s head, and so if she is writing this down, that means that Zach is writing this down. His worst, most negative thoughts are writing all this down, showing him that this was the right decision. This will end all his suffering, and whoever reads the note will understand and be happy for him. This was his solution.

“He’s standing on a bluff overlooking the city

The city’s biggest bluff is making itself look so pretty

He tells himself to be tough, isolated and gritty

But gritty’s kinda hard when his brain’s run by committee”

This is how he decides to die. Now with a gunshot like Interlude II hinted at. He is willing to jump for it.

Look at the album cover. Did he go for it? I don’t think so, but we’ll get to that.

The song concludes with him saying this:

“So who do I speak of and why is he grey?

He rejects all his love, see the prices he pays

To his vices he caves, in a crisis of fates

No tragic history, only a mystery 

So I say to you, ‘who?’

Why don't’cha tell me?”

This is him confirming to us, the audience, that this is Zach’s character speaking about himself. He’s been hinting and clueing at us to this song all along, and now he is making sure that we know what’s going on in his head. He’s ready to end it. 

His love for Juanita broke his heart so severely that it left him broken and bruised beyond repair. And if you can’t fix it, it’s time to throw it away.

So he heads back out to the bluff to jump.

Interlude III - Second Thoughts

He’s standing on a bluff overlooking the city. The bluff’s height is making itself not so pretty. Is this being tough? Or just being petty? But petty’s not likely, it’s a selfish, single entity…

Doe she really want to do this? Looking down, Zach thinks about what made him come here. The drugs? They’re messing him up. He’s aware of it, he’s been aware of it. Would jumping be giving in to their influence? Or Juanita’s? 

“We put his record on until he’s bleeding on the needle

And he’s weeping in the street

Cut down on his curtain call

That’s where he’s gonna sleep.”

Standing on top of the bluff now, he looks down onto the road. He can see that there is where he could die, but he’s suddenly not so sure. The idea just slammed into him, reality slapping him in the face. “Do you really want to do this?” 

“Take aim with these hands he once possessed

A dozen roses on the pavement laid the rest

Oh, my dear sister Christie, will I feel some remorse?

She says ‘no, pull the trigger, ‘cuz he’s left us no recourse.

His brain has a sickness, so kill it at the source.’”

He steps closer. He can see, in his mind, the image of his dead body lying on the road, forever resting. But, was that the right call? To just throw in the towel like that? So, in true metaphorical fashion, he turns and asks Christie. His inner demons. They’ve been straight with him before, right? And, of course, they say “yes, go for it.”

But Zach still isn’t sure.

I believe he backs off for now, leading the way to Curtain Call.

Curtain Call

This is where it really starts to get difficult when it comes to dissecting this album, and from here on out, I guarantee that I got things wrong. However, stay with me, because I’m open to and want to discuss what everyone else thinks it all could mean. I’m going to share my ideas, and if you have a better one, tell me and I can either agree or argue it with you. Point is, like English class (in high school), if you have the evidence to back it up, you’re not wrong. Let’s have a serious discussion about this.

On with the show! Now, it appears as though Zach is arguing with himself in this one, one wanting to show people that he’s hurt so he can get help- the side that wants to live- but on the other hand, his other half knows that there’s nothing they can do if he does. He’d just weigh them all down. Because all of him agrees that he’s useless and hopeless. 

He sends up a prayer (I think Zach is Christian, so this makes sense), asking for, basically, karma of some kind. He’s done feeling this way, and wants it to stop. So he asks for “some price to pay,” hoping that there’s a solution, but knowing that the solution isn’t going to be handed to him on a silver platter. He’d need to work to get better, and this is him saying that he’s willing to do that. He WANTS to live, but he’s just not sure he can anymore. And that’s his main argument. Can he do this? Was it even worth it?

Obviously, with Zach being a famous actor (both irl and in the album), he has a double life. One is bringing joy to others, while the other is a constant internal struggle. The world is a stage, and at this point, Zach is basically admitting- through metaphors- that he has been acting. Pretending. 

Consider this lyric, put there- side by side- very intentionally:

“I find that I’m anything but fine.

No, I’m okay. Oh please just look away!”

It’s all a mask. And it’s one he’s tired of wearing. Notice how tired he sounds when he sings those lines. He’s done. He’s been done.

“Bourbon to kill my pain

Curtains to hold my shame

No, they can’t look away

Cannot contain my rage…”

These lines are telling us that people around Zach have started to notice that he’s off, but he wants to believe that he’s okay, that he’ll be okay. So he continues his career (“curtains to hold my shame”), even though it’s hurting him to do so at that point. And people are starting to notice. And that’s making him frustrated. At himself. At them. He’s tired. Let him rest. He just wants to rest and forget. Bourbon, alcohol, kill the pain. Make it go away so they can’t see. But they already see. The mask is old and withering in decay.

Towards the end, Zach’s voice becomes more echoey and distant (discluding the Italian that I have no hope of understanding, which is why I’ve yet to mention it). This shows that he’s distancing himself, running away, if you will.

Running back to the bluff.

And this time, he jumps.

Interlude IV - Showtime

Okay, meme time. This is the one everyone knows. However, we are not going to be talking about a Connverse fight that honestly makes no sense given the limited context of the song (as cool as those animatics are). We will be talking about, however, Zach facing and challenging his inner demons. Christie does not exist. Why should she rule over his life?

Let’s break this one down, since this one is the hardest to fit into the story.

He jumps, but survives the fall. Maybe dazed, maybe broken. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe this song IS the dream. We can’t be sure. Everything is metaphorical in this one. Perhaps he didn’t jump at all. We can’t be sure.

Christie congratulates him. She tells him that he’s free. He did the right thing, and now it was just the two of them. They could do whatever they wanted without feeling so weighed down!

Zach disagrees, coming to a realization.

He jumped. Christie had said that it’d make everything okay again, that it’d be bliss. Well, he jumped, and it wasn’t. It was worse. He felt anger and fear, and this leads him to finally, for once, counter her. 

“The world is ours!”

“No it isn’t.”

“Get in the car.”

“This isn’t finished.”

“...What?”

She’s shocked that Zach openly argues with her, and as their bickering goes on (which I’m sure a lot of you reading this can hear perfectly in your heads, so I won’t write the exact lyrics down), Zach gains more confidence. He accuses her of murdering him. “And they’ll all think that it was suicide, but Christie, I know that it was you inside.” Remember, she’s not real and therefore didn’t really “kill” him, but he blames her as he allowed her to control and manipulate him. 

Christie is shocked, stating that everything she did, she did to comfort him. ”I saved him! I held him ‘til the moment he [Zach’s “innocence”] died!”) However, Zach realizes what she really is now, and decides that enough is enough. (“You choked him out of his goddamn mind! Promised the world to him, a goddamn lie!”) He knows what she is, and won’t let himself be manipulated by her again. 

Now, the whole time, they’re talking about someone who is dead. Who is that someone? Zach. However, it’s all a metaphor. When Zach jumped, a part of him died. The last of his humanity? His sanity? I think his “innocence,” which I say in quotes because I’m sure there’s a better word for it out there somewhere. He’s done being blind to the truth, blindly following Christie around. The part of him that was naive enough to do that, to listen to her influence and complain about the world, is gone. He’s dead.

And that means Zach isn’t taking anymore s***. 

C: “I won’t help you take [Juanita] down.”

Z: “Fine. I’LL DO IT BY MYSELF!”

C: “You don’t need it!”

Z: “Oh, I know that I need it.”

C: “She’s been gone for years, I know you can beat it!”

Z: “Oh, look in the mirror, you know we both fear her…

But you let me kill him, you’re WORSE than Juanita!”

Juanita herself never killed him. She never physically harmed him, not in any way that counts here. However, Christie did. She pushed and pushed him, taking a fragile boy and breaking him even more. Zach is now his own worst enemy, not Juanita, and this is him realizing it. But he doesn’t want to be his own enemy.

C: “I won’t help you take her down.”

Christie doesn’t want Zach to face her, because she knows that that would be him really facing his demons and starting down the path to healing. Juanita is Zach’s biggest obstacle, aside from himself. He has to face himself first, and that’s why this song is so powerful. Zach is taking a step back and realizing what he has to do, who he is, and why things are like this.

Z: “Oh, look in the mirror, you know we both fear her. 

We’re one and the same, we’re afraid to be near her!”

There’s that mirror metaphor again, except that he’s not looking at himself with hatred; he’s looking at himself with understanding (and a side of hatred). He’s ready to face her. He’s ready to get everything to stop.

“1, 2, 3, 4

Is this what love is really for? 

Is this all I get for being yours?

The kid in front of me in blood and gore?”

The kid is, again, Zach’s “innocence.” He understands, he’s ready to not only move on, but also confront her.

5, 6, 7, 8

Years left to waste for all I hate

They’ll all know Juanita’s fate!

Show’s about to start; don’t be late.”

He knows that it’s going to be a showdown, a big, epic throw down. And Christie isn’t coming with him. He’s leaving her behind. He’s leaving his demons behind, breaking free from them and moving on.

War!

The ultimate throw down begins!

“A wise man once said, ‘time is money’

So how much money did I lose to you, honey?

Find it kinda funny you wanna keep this feud runnin’

But I’m glad I’m on your mind, keep that canon fire coming, woah!”

This is 100% a diss track. Zach confronts Juanita in front of a lot of her friends (we hear multiple girls go “huh?” as they realize that Zach’s here and he’s ANGRY), and immediately starts in. No introductions, no “hey it’s nice to see you again”s, nothing. He’s here to make a statement, and he’s gonna do so.

He realizes Juanita for who she is now, and she has done so many horrible things to him. Spreading rumors and lies to ruin his life, after dating him just to get a story to write about. He’s sick of it and done. He calls her out, and it’s important that he does this in front of other people so they see what she’s really done. He’s hurt, he’s been hurt, and it’s because of Juanita, this amazing person a lot of people looked up to and liked (“I know, Juanita deserves so much more [Interlude I]”. “Step inside the life of the men weak enough to follow you [Phantom Love]). 

Juanita also appears to be dating someone else by this time. This is really important, because now due to context clues we got from before, the only reason Juanita dates is to get a heartbreak out of it so she can have the motivation and drive to write her own album. That’s why she dated Zach. So, if she’s dating again, that means she either lost the motivation and drive again, or she never had it in the first place since it wasn’t a real love between them. She didn’t truly experience a heartbreak at all. This is further backed up by the claim that “we’ve been waiting on your album for ages, no traces, and baby, we’ve already run out of patience!” She’s only dating to get that experience again.

This means that, at least in Zach’s eyes, she hasn’t changed. “To your new boy, let he be warned: you’re her new toy for blood and gore! What, you didn’t know?” She is going to destroy him emotionally, and he’s going to go down the same path as Zach, ending in death- blood on the pavement. The gore part is to emphasize how horrific the whole ordeal was.

“Sit down with me and sign this armistice

Get your big proboscis outta my s***, miss”

A proboscis is the butterfly equivalent of a tongue. They use it for sucking nectar out of flowers. So, what he’s saying here is that they need to settle this between them (“sign this armistice”), and that she needs to mind her own business. By her talking about Zach like that, she ruined his life and he’s sick of it. She literally sucked the joy out of him like nectar. 

“Welcome to the new me!

Paint your nails black and unscrew me

But that’s okay, Juanita

Know my business is booming”

His business is a reference to his own album, the very one you’re listening to. His music career took off now because of her and the fact that she broke his heart, not the other way around. Juanita can never understand that because she “only loves to be broken [Phantom Love].” 

“That’s alright, that’s okay!

You barely wrote them anyway

Half your songs got thrown away

Like ballets on voting day

All my ballads had more to say

Like a bullet through a motorcade”

In a twist, Zach got the story Juanita had wanted. He experienced a heartbreak, while she never really did. So he writes an album instead of her. It’s a cool kind of karma that Zach- or, at least, his character- can’t resist. 

The whole song ends with him forcing her/her friends to sing along with him, repeating her name, then yelling. She screams, and it cuts out. 

I think he’s lost his sanity (or again, his “innocence”) here. He gets carried away, and either attacks her or makes like he’s about to. I think he makes like he’s about to, but stops. This is the final song; if Zach killed her, there would more than likely be another song depicting the consequences and an Interlude V to show the aftermath of the incident. But because he stopped himself, he’s satisfied. Juanita learned her lesson, Zach got everything off his chest, and the people around them know the truth. 

That’s all he’s wanted for longer than we can possibly know.

Final Observations

Zach Callison has gone on record to say that “Juanita” has finally published an album of her own, but that happened months later. I don’t have any specific dates for anything, though. No one knows who the real-life “Juanita” is, which in my opinion, is noble of Zach. He had a lot of anger to get out, but unlike her, he wasn’t going to ruin her life to try and get something out there. He can make a statement without ruining someone else along the way.

With that knowledge, let us all stand and clap for this man.

Not only is the album just a really good listen, but each song tells a cohesive story. The tones each song sets, as well as the far under-appreciated interludes (or over-appreciated in terms of Showtime), really shows how his emotional state changes. Phantom Love is a lament, She Don’t Know is a classic “I’m sad bc my gf broke up with me :(“ which is how Zach perceives that incident at that point in time, whereas Nightmare is him falling into depression stronger than anything he’s ever felt before. Curtain Call is him arguing with himself about whether or not he should even live anymore, and it all comes back around with the upbeat, heavy-rock literal song of War!. The interludes take the tone of the next song and combine it with the lyrics of the previous to show that smooth transition between emotions as he grapples with his mental state, the only exception really being Interlude I, as it has an overall bouncy tone to it.

Zach not only made every single song enjoyable, but also unique and heartfelt. Just listen to how his voice shakes during Christie Only Knows. He is genuinely upset and lost, and because of this, he’s better able to convey the HUGE emotion dump that was his album.

Do I recommend it? Yes. I think there’s something in there for everyone, even if you only enjoy one of the songs. However, doing a review is going to be an entire post in and of itself.

Thanks for reading, guys. Now go listen to the album and tell me your thoughts. Does my explanation make sense? Do you have a better idea? Let me know. I want to have a real discussion about it with other people who have listened to the whole thing, not just Interlude IV.

If you haven’t listened to it yet, it’s on YouTube and ITunes. Do yourself a favor and check it out. The whole thing is ~45 minutes long.

Have a link to the playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_n1rA_1uUBtxoATot0ixiTgvdEHhj3lAn4

[scimitar-and-longsword]

I just read your long post about Booker and Nile and it gave me all the emotions but i wanted to add on one of my favorite moments, which is that Booker tries to convince the team not to find Nile after they dream about her. And it could be because he doesn’t want her to mess up his plans or that she doesn’t deserve this nonsense but like he does try. Long story short I just really love booker and think he’s such an interesting character

Me too nony!! [icymi: Original Post] (Which kinda touched on your point of weather or not Booker tried to to keep Nile away out of care or inconvenience)

Booker disclaimer: He fucked up. Not excusing it, but I just really love his character. He's written/acted in a way that I find so fascinating. Booker apologist is mostly a joke

I've been thinking about the father/daughter dynamic for a while and trying to decide if I'm just seeing things because I have a very close relationship with my own dad and tend to really gravitate towards those relationships in media.

But the more I watch it the more I am convinced that Greg wrote it that way on purpose.

Booker doesn't talk about his wife dying, even though we know he had a wife. What he talks about is losing his son.

Nile and Andy discuss her family and all that time leaves behind. Andy laments not remembering what her mother and sister’s looked like just after Booker has done the same about his sons. Really driving home Nile’s loss of them.

I think a lot of people take this line to mean Booker was jealous of Nicky and Joe's romantic relationship. Which is valid, I just don't see any real evidence for it.

We don't have scenes of Booker sleeping with people or staring longingly at other couples showing affection. Or even if him looking jealous of Nicky and Joe.

In fact, when we DO see Booker react to Joe and Nicky's dynamic he appears to be extremely fond of them.

So I just don’t feel like he needs or even wants a romantic partner, he just wants to feel like he has SOMETHING. 

The other thing I find interesting is that at this point in time there are 6 immortals, with 2 sets of romantic partners. Of course up until recently Quynh was stuck at the bottom of the ocean, breaking up that support structure.

And the order in which they appear is very interesting.  Andy > Quynh > Lykon > Lykon > Joe & Nicky > Booker > Nile

They touch a few times in the movie on weather or not they think there’s a purpose to their immortality. Weather it’s destiny or random or God. Personally, I categorically reject it being random. And anything more than random means that there HAS to be some design to it all.

So Andy was alone for thousands of years then whatever force creates them brought her a companion in Quynh.

Lykon is interesting cause he’s there for a fucking blip! 331 bce - ??? but i would guess not later than 500 ce, though it seems to be implied as much earlier. He is brought into their lives and then taken fairly quickly. Now IF there some kind of force making decisions behind the scenes it seems like something went WRONG here. Weather that was Lykon losing faith like Andy eventually does, or it was on the back end I’m not sure. (a meta for another time lol. Something I think/hope they’ll explore in the sequel or at least in the 3rd comic run)

Joe & Nicky come together (da dum tss)  After Lykon dies alone without a partner (and I’m using that to mean NOT just romantic partner), I 100% believe Joe and Nicky showing up together is by design.

Then we get to Booker. If Quynh had still been there he would have come into a family of pretty content immortals imo. All 4 of them happy to spout things about destiny, and probably even assuring him that someone will come along to fill the hole left by the death of his family.

But as it is Andy is missing her partner and depressed af. Joe and Nicky lost a close friend too, and I’m sure, that even with them seeming more well adjusted than Andy that they would still have their moments.

So that leaves Andy to be depressed with Booker. and they kinda spiral together, both shown to rely heavily on alcohol.

ONLY 208 YEARS LATER Nile comes along. That is a very short amount of time for them. Maybe not yet to Booker, but how long his life will (probably) be, 200 year is nothing.

It appears to be speeding up, or the *entity* that makes them is getting better at it? idk

- Tangent over lol-

Nile is already shown to still be dealing with the loss of her dad at the start of the movie. She keeps his picture by her bunk, and on her phone. And him (and the rest of her family) are obviously the most important thing to her, and the hardest thing for her to lose with this new gift of immortality. Sound familiar? (cough*booker*cough)

I think it’s pretty brilliant to have this concept of found family and exploring that in it’s different forms. And from a representation standpoint it’s great to have two queer romantic couples and then a child/parent dynamic that places the only two straight characters in a decidedly NOT romantic relationship. (presumably straight, based on Booker’s past with his wife and Nile’s mortal love interest in the comics) 

Further more putting both of them in a position to buck stereotypes. The straight white brooding action hero guy who would probably have been the main character in a less nuanced movie get’s to have someone who he cares about and gets to show real vulnerability with. We don’t see him show this emotion with ANYONE else. And Nile who could have been boxed into the trope of “Black women only being stoic and strong,” gets to have someone who cares for her and that she can lean on.

Now this COULD create a weird power (not to mention racial) dynamic if done poorly. BUT I think Gina/Greg have proven that they can handle complex relationships well that had the potential have been big on the yikes scale (Joe & Nicky)

And even in this movie we see that in action: Nile saves them after Booker gets them captured. And she is the only one really who calls him on dragging his feet while looking for Copley (this is less obvious in the movie than in the comics) 

Andy does this KINDA, but it doesn’t seem like she’s questioning Booker’s methods and more just that she’s frustrated (and distracted obviously). Nile actually pushes back and it throws Booker off his game. 

Bringing this ALL THE WAY back to your original point Nony: The fact that the Nile & Booker sub-arc starts with him being like “We should leave her” and ends with him comforting her and telling her she’s a good kid. And with Nile advocating for him not leaving at all is just *chefs kiss*

It starts with Booker, who is shown to have real issues with watching his Son die and not being able to help him, feel Nile die. This time? He can help, he rejects that at first, but I think he starts to see could help Nile, and how Nile could help him by the end. And their last moments have them displaying peak parent/child vibes:

idk I just find their dynamic really interesting and I hope it get’s expanded on in the sequel!

-fin-

[fletchphoenix]

You And I Have Good Chemistry

Hiya gamers - chapter three has arisen. As always, I love y’all and thank you so much for your supportive messages yesterday, it meant a lot. Anyway, enough of me rambling. Onwards with the chapter.

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  “You came back-” Varian said with a tearful smile, cuts littering his face as he sat on the hard oak floor of the library. The very floor Hugo was sprinting across to slide against and pull the younger boy into his arms. He didn’t want to let go of the boy in front of him, not now, not ever. He muttered apologies - for what, he didn’t know - he just knew he’d hurt the raven haired boy he was currently holding in an embrace that was being returned just as passionately.

  “Of course I did, Varian. I’m not..gonna leave you here.” he confessed, his hands fixing Varian’s teal waistcoat, the other gently pushing his hands down to stop him. Loving eyes met his, the crack in his glasses slightly obscuring his vision. That didn’t matter though - at least the younger boy was safe. 

  He wasn’t sure who’d started it, but sure enough they were both leaning in, extremely close. “Hugo…” Varian’s voice was barely a whisper as his hand moved to rest upon the blonde’s cheek. Only a little more-

  “HUGO!” Donella yelled as she opened the door, startling the emerald eyed boy, before he groaned in annoyance and pulled his sheets over his head as Donella opened his curtains, letting in the sunlight which broke him from his VERY riveting dream about an Eternal Library. His brain neglected to remind him of the fact him and Varian were extremely close and how his rude awakening had interrupted a very intimate moment between the two - probably for the best. 

  “Geez, Don. I was getting up.” He muttered as he pulled the covers back to grab his glasses, pushing them up his nose before checking his alarm clock. One glance. Two glances. “It’s 7:15am. I’m not even late. Why are you waking me up?” he moaned and laid back, his head finding comfort in the pillows and his eyes watching the grey haired woman roll her eyes and fold her arms in annoyance, though an exasperated smile on her features said otherwise. 

  “Well, you need to start getting up earlier.” she stated, heading towards the bed. “Besides, your phone alarm has been going off since half six and I’m sick of hearing that hellish ringtone of yours.” Donella used a cold hand to push back his fringe and place a gentle, motherly kiss to his forehead before ruffling his hair gently and heading towards the doorway. The slight click of the heels on her boots created a comforting tempo, syncopated with the ticking of the clock on his wall. “Get ready, okay Hugo?” 

  “Yeah, alright mom. Oh! My study partner is coming over tonight by the way. His name’s Varian. He’s new.” he explained, his voice crescendoing into a shout as his mother descended the stairs. Once he was sure she’d heard him, he began getting dressed, selecting his moss green hoodie, jeans and some random shirt to go with it. Not as if it mattered anyway - he didn’t plan on taking off the hoodie today. After all, the only time he’d take it off was for chemistry, and that was second period. Hugo pulled on his clothes, strolling to the mirror placed on his desk and fixing his hair and glasses.

  The start of the day was a breeze - Donella had dropped him off at the entrance and as he walked down the hall, he could hear the usual gossip. Something about a kid called Leon getting suspended for homophobic slurs against Mr Crick’s kid - oh well, at least it wasn’t him, he noted as he pushed open the door to Room 106, Mrs Crick’s room. “Morning Hugo,” Elora called, not even having to look up from her book to know it was him, “Take your seat, you’re late, as usual.” 

  “Sorry Miss, can’t say it won’t happen again though!” he called as he took his seat before Isla, who was literally bouncing up and down in excitement. His eyes trailed up and down her body in silence, his right eyebrow slowly rising. Wow. She looked happy to say the bare minimum. Hell, she was even wearing her rainbow socks - ones she’d specifically told Hugo she was wearing if she was feeling especially happy. “Uh..hey there, Isla. Are you okay?-”

  “Yes! I asked Nuru out yesterday and she said yes! I honestly can’t believe it!” she giggled in her sing-song voice, each word sounding like a melody to an undiscovered song. A grin moved onto his face. So Nuru and one of his best friend’s were dating, huh? What an interesting revelation, he’d thought as he leaned forward against his desk, propping his head up with his hand. He just knew he could use this for blackmail against Nuru...or some form of teasing. Well, he was gonna have fun. 

  “That's interesting, Isla..tell me more..”

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  “He did what?!” Nuru almost yelled, sitting bolt upright in her seat as Varian leant over to shush her. She couldn’t believe it. Hugo motherfucking Atkinson was simping over Varian Ruddiger? This was..a revelation! A hypothesis she just had to explore! The signs were obvious! Staring as Varian while he was talking, actually cuddling him after sharing their deepest traumas..it was just so unlike Hugo that she almost declared that Varian was faking it!

  “Please don’t yell.” Varian begged, sparing a glance over to Zander. The boy was clearly spooked, flinching away from the odd pair in his chair with a black eye on full display to them. Nodding gratefully, the other shuffled back into his prior position as Varian followed suit and sat back down. “But yeah, he was acting really weird and just..hugged me on my bed. It was..kinda nice if I’m being honest.” A slight flush dusted his cheeks, but it disappeared as soon as it came. No. No no. Hugo was his rival. His enemy. None of that.

  “Alright, but it’s almost unheard of that Hugo of all people would act like that. And I’ve known him for years.” she explained, her gaze fixing on Varian, “Trust me Varian, he’s up to something, I can just tell it. He isn’t the ‘good guy’ he makes himself out to be. I would know, okay?” her hand moved to rest on his shoulder, covering the small sun insignia of Eugene’s old Corona High hoodie that he TOTALLY didn’t steal from him. Silently, he nodded in agreement before the bell rang and the hallways flooded with people. “Well then, shall we?” She asked, her arm outstretched. Varian promptly took it and let her guide him through the sea of people in the corridors. 

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  First period went way too fast, Varian finding himself standing outside the chemistry labs alone before pushing open the door and entering. Greeting him was Hugo, already standing at their desk and giving him a smug grin and wave as he made his way over. Ah. Back to square one then. “Hey there, hairstripe. It's good to see my favourite nerd after such a long, strenuous day.” Hugo lamented as he threw his arm around the other boy, the steel of his arm feeling like a molten iron poker due to the relentless August heat. 

  “It's only been one lesson.” Varian complained, pushing Hugo’s arm off him (much to the other’s dismay, as evident from the displeased grunt), and pulling on the ivory lab coat along with his own goggles he’d fished out of his bag. They were the last thing he had of his mother’s belongings - apparently she was a legend in the scientific field, making advanced progress for it before her sudden death. He would’ve killed to have been able to meet her. 

  “I know, but one lesson is too much without my beloved hairstripe!” the other whined as Varian’s face took on a frown. Did he always have to be so dramatic? What had happened to the soft, vulnerable man he’d seen yesterday? Still, he sat down and began to listen to Mr Crick as he explained the experiment. It was simple enough - make a compound of your choice - right?

  Well, he was obviously wrong considering who his partner was.

  He thought they’d been fine, Hugo taking the lead and showing Varian what to do. It almost felt like the sweet boy he met yesterday was back, until the compound blew up in his face. His hair scruffed up as Hugo laughed, Varian rapidly moving his hands to fix the absolute rats nest that was his hair as his partner’s cackles sounded in the background. He’d ignored Hugo after that, a frown covering his features as he pushed the boy away and slumped in his chair, pouting and sulking at the embarrassment he’d been put through. 

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  Before he knew it, he was beside the blonde haired boy again and walking through town. He let Hugo ramble about something or the other, the blonde’s nimble fingers threading through his own locks as he ranted about some girl he liked. Varian didn’t pay attention, somehow a feeling of disappointment and something akin to jealousy bubbled in his stomach. He didn’t understand why - he hated the boy with his whole heart, so why was he jealous over some girl Hugo was frustrated about? He should be laughing because he was suffering so much, so why wasn’t he? He pushed that thought out of his head as fast as he could, his eyes fixating on the floor in silence.

  “You had your first kiss yet, hairstripe?” Hugo asked, it was an innocent question, but it caught Varian off guard. He didn’t want to admit to Hugo he’d never been kissed, all that would lead to would be relentless bullying about how he was destined to be ‘alone forever’ or how he just seemed to repel every girl in a two mile radius somehow. He pondered his answer for a minute, not even realising he’d stopped in his tracks. “You okay?” the blonde questioned.

  “Hm? Oh, i’m fine. And uh. Yeah, I’ve totally been kissed. By many, uh, many females.” he stuttered. Curse him for being so awkward. Hugo wasn’t going to believe him at all with a stutter like that. He knew he was a bad liar - but geez, this was REALLY depressing wasn’t it. It seemed Hugo thought the same, a look of suspicion taking over his face. “I swear I have!” he persisted as he jogged to catch up with the taller boy.

  “I never said I didn’t believe you.”

  “Yeah, but your face looked weird so I thought I had to clarify.”   “Your face always looks weird, but I don’t always clarify everything for you.” Hugo quipped, Varian gasping in offence and punching his bicep. Hugo let out a loud laugh before taking Varian’s wrist and guiding him along the street towards a small house. “Here it is. It really isn’t much, me and my ma aren’t exactly the most lucky people in the world.” Hugo added as he unlocked the door and pulled Varian up the stairs and along the hall to his room. “And this is where the magic happens.” He chirped, wiggling his eyebrows in a seductive manner, to which Varian responded with yet another punch to the bicep. 

  The room itself just had such Hugo vibes. Post it notes covered the walls with notes about chemistry along with little reminders on them (ones Varian couldn’t make out due to Hugo’s fancy yet unreadable cursive writing). An unfinished mechanical device looking similar to a mouse laid with his stomach facing upwards on the desk against the right wall with a wardrobe beside it, doors painted green and hiding the true color of the wood underneath. A bed pressed against the back wall sat against the left wall, the also green covers in a bundle on the floor, as though Hugo had fallen out of bed and forgotten to clean it. Slowly, Varian made his way towards the desk, before Hugo abruptly stepped in front of him to block his path. 

  “Ah. No working at the desk. There’s a surgical patient there at the moment called Olivia, so we’re gonna have to work on the bed. Lucky you.” He commented with a grin, taking a seat. Varian hesitated before perching beside him, taking the books out of his bag as Hugo’s eyes followed his every movement. As reassuring as it was to know Hugo was here, the staring was...really putting him off. It was excessive and happening everywhere - his room, the chemistry labs..hell, even the hallway today as they crossed paths while Varian made his way to math with Nuru dragging him along. It was strange and, according to Nuru, out of character for Hugo to be doing. Varian wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what was in character for Hugo, if he was being honest. Carefully he placed the books on the bed and the pair began to work on their presentation. 

  He hadn’t realised it, neither of them had, but by the time they’d decided to finish, Varian’s head rested on Hugo’s shoulder and had subconsciously cuddled against him on the bed. He flushed as Hugo brought this to his attention. “I’m sorry. I’ll just-” Varian apologised, trying to move away before a hand moved to hold him in place. Hugo’s eyes locked with his azure ones in a silent staring match, neither of them wanting to move until Hugo gained the courage. He tilted forward slightly before-

  “Varian! We’re here!” Rapunzel called from downstairs, the noise bringing both the boys back down from whatever alternate universe they’d created where it was just them. Varian moved away, Hugo letting him slide out of his embrace as he packed his books and their work into his backpack, slinging it over his back and rising to his feet. With his voice almost a whisper, he uttered goodbye before rushing out and down the stairs to meet Rapunzel.

  Hugo laid back on his bed, staring at the glow stars on the ceiling set out like constellations as his mind ran over what had just happened. What had gotten into him? What was the other boy doing to him to cause him to just..act like that? He let out a slight gasp at his sudden revelation. Oh no. No way did he have a crush on Varian Ruddiger. Absolutely no way would he have a crush on someone that was far too good for him in every way.

  He thought back to Zander and the rumours of him and his boyfriend. Of course he couldn’t risk that happening to him OR Varian. They had enough going on as it is, so the last thing he needed was for them to deal with that kind of torment at school. However…

  ..he couldn’t stop thinking about the other boy.

  The way that he couldn’t get enough of him. How he explained things so perfectly and not condescending in the slightest. The way he took care of everything around him and was gentle and careful when talking about potentially hurtful things. The way his blue eyes lit up the slightest bit when he smiled. The small snorts when he laughed. He really was falling hard for the other, huh. He was pretty sure his mom could tell too by the way she’d grinned at him from across the table at dinner in a way that told him that she knew whatever he was hiding, even though HE hadn’t known he was hiding anything at that point. 

  Huh. He really was in love. And this time, he didn’t hate it.