#i guess i just needed to complain to a wider audience

[togetherweliveforever]

Hooo boy do I have an anecdote to add.

So I got a kidney transplant in December of 2021. Possibly the only good thing about American healthcare is that the moment you start dialysis or get your kidney transplant, you automatically get signed up for Medicare, and you're eligible for Medicaid. If you have other health insurance that remains your primary, and Medicare your secondary for 31 months. I do not know why it's 31. Seems like an odd number to me.

My transplant team at the hospital also signed me up immediately for the Prograf copay card. Prograf is one of two ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY anti-rejection meds that I take every day, 12 hours apart. I have to get labs done regularly to make sure my Prograf levels are right. Prograf is very expensive so the copay card paid for everything. Everything was a bit of a blur last December and January after my surgery so I'm glad they set it up for me, but I do not have any details about how they did it.

When the Prograf copay card expired after a year I found out that the price for my meds would be over $600 a month until I reach my $3000 deductible. (That's almost chump change to my coworker's meds that are $7000 per 30 days). News flash: I don't have that kind of money.

I needed to reactivate the card by calling a number. When they asked if I had any government insurance I said yes, of course, because I have Medicare as my secondary insurance. A reminder: all kidney transplant patients automatically get Medicare. They immediately said I was ineligible to get the Prograf copay card. So I contacted my hospital and they said that as long as I didn't have Medicare part D I should be able to get it because part D pays for medications. I called back, told them I didn't have part D and they still said that I couldn't have any part of Medicare to get the Prograf card, despite the last year of having both. I called the hospital back and they said "huh that's weird" and said they'll do some more research. So now either the people who could reactivate the card don't know what they're talking about, or a rule changed in the last year that the people at the hospital don't know about. Both seem unlikely honestly.

So now I'm going to be switching to the off brand of prograf which will be less expensive but almost $150 a month which I still can't afford. I've been waiting two days to hear back from the financial liaison at the hospital and she has not returned my calls. Now I am quickly running out of the Prograf I have left and I don't know how quickly this will be resolved but it needs to be done soon. I'm not even taking it right. I'm supposed to be taking 1.5mg twice a day but ran out of the 0.5 capsules so I'm taking 1mg in the morning and 2mg at night.

So to sum up: my life saving medication is too expensive. No one knows if or how I'm supposed to get financial assistance. I'm not getting a return call from the person who is supposed to help me. And I'm running out of meds.

Meanwhile the pharmaceutical company is making bank and insurance just wants their deductible, my health and life be damned.

i don’t think any medication at all especially not ones to manage chronic conditions should be more than like $2. but that makes me insane i guess

[msviolacea]

Okay, I've been sitting on these thoughts for a couple of weeks, and I've been reading one of my favorite genre writing books today in preparation for a potential project, and they flashed to the surface again. And I just can't resist anymore, sorry.

I saw a post a bit ago that seemed to angrily indicate that telling writers that they need a plot summary/logline/advertising text that goes beyond a list of tropes was somehow ... ableist? discriminatory against marginalized writers? some kind of elitist bullshit? I don't know, but I could hear the whizzing air of a point sailing over someone's head as I read it and it irritated me.

So, okay, let's go over why I think that's a load of crap.

You have a book or a fic or a story of some sort. When I ask you what it's about, you tell me "bisexuals in space, enemies to lovers!" If we're talking about a fanfic, okay, that's probably enough information to tell me if I want to read it - because I know the fandom, and therefore I have a pretty good idea of what else the story is going to entail. But if you're trying to sell me on your original story? I'm sure there are some people who would still jump on it, but I am really not one of them, and I venture to guess many, many other people are the same way.

Why? Here's a sampling of what your trope phrases do and do not tell me.

Okay, there are bisexual characters. And the fact that you reference enemies to lovers makes me think that we're talking about a romance. But that's not guaranteed! Is the story about the bisexuals falling in love? Is it a space adventure in which people incidentally fall in love? Does it not involve love or sex at all, just a bisexual character in a totally different story who happens to have sex with an enemy in a side plot?

Seriously, how does bisexuality or enemies or lovers factor into your plot?

If you're basing your advertising of your story on sexuality, what kind of society are you writing about? Is this a fun fantasy space setting where there's no discrimination based on who you want (or don't want) to have sex with? Or is this story going to include discrimination that parallels real-world problems? Those are two vastly different moods I have to be in to read a thing.

Overall, even if this is a romance, what's the sub-genre you're going with? Space opera? If it is, is it a ridiculous Jupiter Ascending world or a more gritty Expanse-style world? Is it hard sci-fi leaning? Is it actually a murder mystery set on a space station? Is it an action thriller set on a giant starship? Is it a cozy character study? Something totally different?

What do your characters want? A story in which your MC wants to become monarch of their homeworld is very different than one in which your MC is a smuggler trying to get out of legal trouble, and both are very different from an MC who is devoted to revenge against the person who killed their family.

What tone is your story? Again, if you're using tropes to advertise, my guess is it's somewhat lighthearted. But that's not guaranteed at all.

These are just the things I could think of in like 5 minutes. And maybe you don't care about any of these things, and you're happy to have an audience just of people who can read any kind of story any time as long as there are bisexuals in space. That's great! You found your audience! Have fun!

... but I'm betting that audience is very small, relatively speaking. And that you wouldn't be complaining about it if you didn't want a wider audience.

And implying that a reader or readers asking for something more than a list of tropes is somehow discriminatory against you, whatever marginalization you happen to have? That's insulting nonsense. Writing a story summary - be it for an Amazon page, the back of a book, the summary box on AO3, your website, whatever - is a skill that can be learned by anyone who can write a story long enough to require one. It's a different skill than writing the story, don't get me wrong, but it's a skill you can learn regardless.

By all means, put the tropes there too! Have them at the top or bottom of your summary! Put them on your website! I know romance authors who have search functions on their websites where you can filter by tropes! Those are great, but those authors also know that an individual story summary is also necessary! I can filter and say "I want to read hurt/comfort" but then I need to know what the fuck the story is about. Fanfic can be just about hurt/comfort and get its audience - BECAUSE people know the base fandom. Original fiction, not so much.

Anyway. That stuck under my skin, and now it's out. Hooray.

[sueske]

Not to come off as pretentious but it really feels like no one but people on tumblr are able to really understand sasuke, naruto and their relationship. Like on other sites like tiktok, twitter or Instagram, of course you have it infected with hinata and Sakura fans who just naturally have bad takes but you also have sns fans who just like….. have embarrassingly bad takes.

I remember seeing a tiktok video about sns and it was an okay “analysis” it was just discussing like very base level things Sasuke’s character. but then they just go on to say that’s why he’s a top. Because “he needs to be in control. He likes having control. His abandonment issues lead him to needing to dominate someone to help him feel like he finally has agency in his life. Naruto being that someone is natural because of his fem / wife coding throughout the series. It’s been stated subliminally numerous times that naruto is the submissive in their relationship, he needs to be controlled unlike sasuke because he’s so rowdy and chaotic.” And like………. That’s an interesting take.

And the fact it got like around 2000 likes just kinda made me realize that sns tiktok fandom does not really understand sns at all and have likely not actually consumed the media and just got their information from other tiktok people or YouTube.

not the top bottom discourse crap…

I agree with u actually, the most nuanced and comprehensive takes I’ve seen about naruto have been on tumblr, including Japanese stuff as well that non speakers wouldn’t know about. Doesn’t help the viz official translation censors and changes stuff either. Granted there are bad takes on tumblr as well but u won’t find well written canon only essays about sns on a TikTok slideshow (at least from what I’ve seen.) personally I feel that tumblr is the easiest to use, I don’t like the character limit on Twitter and am pretty sure Reddit mods can do whatever they want. I’ve found some okay analysis on YouTube about naruto and sasuke and their bond, but I feel like they’re surface level, or could go deeper in some places and then don’t, and even if they do get it right for the most part the fact of the matter is sns’ bond is also romantic, not touching on that leaves things unfinished imo. Some naysayers in the comments section always seem to want to clarify that their bond is platonic or ‘sns are just bros’ - which, if people addressed one of sns’ biggest running plot threads that happens every single time they meet up in person (and not clones) from vote1 to the end (what are we?) - they’d perhaps realise something and sing a different tune. but yet no one does (at least from what I’ve seen?) or take moments singularly which I think is a shame since they’re very obviously connected and they’re very important. I guess it speaks volumes that they don’t and leave that untouched. I’d really love to watch a sns analysis video so it can reach a wider audience that covers their entire bond, their mutual understanding and pure love and empathy AND how it’s also romantic, the tropes, the literary devices, etc used to achieve this. I know some people complain that romantic bonds are glamorised in media and that they’re seen as somehow ‘more’ than platonic bonds, as a means to dissuade people from shipping sns romantically, but like sorry. sns are romantic and that’s how kishimoto wrote them and I can see it and others can see it and even if people can’t see it clearly they can at least feel it which is why sns are gay comments are everywhere lol.

[misscrawfords]

☕️ and historical accuracy in period dramas?

Been thinking about this on and off all day because it's quite complex. On the one hand, I don't care because no drama is ever truly accurate. On the other hand, I'm pernickety and fussy and get really annoyed about certain things. So...

I think if I were to try and sum up my feelings, it would be that I am not a historian and therefore I am not overly educated about exactly what is and isn't accurate but I do care a lot about internal consistency within a drama and, if it's an adaptation of a novel, that it is a faithful and interesting adaptation of that novel.

I think pure historical accuracy complaints can be quite problematic. They can be used to be racist - "there were no black people in Regency England!" - I mean, that's just not true. What is considered "accuracy" is in fact not accurate at all! Or sexist - "the Medieval period [itself a very wide ranging and diverse period historically and geographically] was a terrible time to be a woman and we just have to include lots of graphic rape scenes because it's being accurate, nothing we can do, sorry, we care so much about accuracy". This isn't about accuracy at all, it's about perpetuating a false vision of the past which fits with personal prejudices.

I guess I'd like more period dramas that were genuinely historically accurate - that present Medieval England as colourful and vibrant and intellectually buzzing and interestingly religious. That explores a wider range of identities in the Regency period than the world of Jane Austen's books. (And there is SO much out there to adapt that is not Austen... And I love Austen. But seriously.) You zone into any year in history in any location and guaranteed it's more weird and wonderful and diverse than anything you previously imagined.

So I don't think any adaptation really gets it right, historically speaking. It always presents history through a lens which often says more about the makers of the drama and their target audience than the history itself.

However, some things really annoy me. My main bugbear is the hair thing. And, like, fine if you're going to not care at all about any kind of relation to historical hair styling, but when 95% of your cast has really decent looking ringlets or whatever, but your ingenue heroine has her hair down and looks like she's never heard of a hairbrush just to signify her ~innocence or whatever, it really gets me. It's such lazy visual storytelling and it takes me out of the drama because I'm immediately thinking, "If I were walking along a cliff in a stiff wind, I'd be tying my hair back - isn't it annoying having it blow in your mouth all the time???" or "All your sisters have their hair up, why are you standing out? Why is nobody complaining about this?" So that really does annoy me a lot. And it doesn't even look good. That sort of hair looks a MESS. But it's more the poor look and inconsistency within the film and how dull a characterisation technique it is that pisses me off, than the accuracy because tbqh I have never studied historical hair styling so I don't really know the details.

Also costumes - if you are supposedly setting a drama in a particular year or period and you are taking some effort with costumes, then there needs to be consistency! (I don't mean that if a character is poor or old-fashioned then they shouldn't wear appropriate clothes) but you shouldn't have your heroine where a dress from 1815 one day and 1786 another! Emma 2020 is a brilliant example of how you can make amazing, consistent costumes and still be a very modern adaptation. Mr Malcolm's List also did a great job. So when adaptations don't bother because they're too edgy or whatever, then I have a low opinion of them because you can have high standards and be fun and modern and successful.

Similar to speech and dialogue. It all depends. If you're creating a fantasy version of the past (like Bridgerton), it's one thing, but if you are adaptating something from that period and doing a serious adaptation, then you need to take your source material seriously.

tl;dr: don't be Persuasion 2022. What an insulting pile of garbage that was on every front. The cast deserved better!

Send me a ☕️+ a topic and I'll give you my opinion!

[illwynd]

Hey, uh, in one of your posts some time back you mentioned that the Loki fandom has this collectively-agreed upon version of Loki that isn’t really found in canon—I’m not really “in” the fandom, but I’m interested in that phenomenon as a widespread, mutually agreed-upon non-canon characterization. Care to go into more detail about who “fanon Loki” is, to satisfy my scientific curiosity?

oh lol sorry i was not clear and didn't use a sarcasm tag. I was very definitely being sarcastic.

Some other fans (a few of those who like and approve of the Loki series' depiction of the character) have been claiming that the "fanfic" version was just a headcanon invented whole cloth by fans and that those of us who think the Loki in the show is OOC are basically delusional and are mad that our headcanon version isn't in the show.

In response, i was implying that that version was indeed found in canon, and was in fact a very vivid and lasting portrayal, because otherwise there would be no reason for so many fans (who don't tend to agree on much) to have collectively "invented" such a strikingly similar headcanon version that was consistent, cohesive, and coherent in thousands of fics written from 2011 to 2016 (and thereafter, by those of us who have been here the whole time and are still sticking to the earlier version).

I mean, just on probability alone, what's more likely---that so many fans (who, again, don't tend to agree on anything!) collectively imagined the exact same headcanon that was never depicted in canon?* Or that some fans of the current show feel a need to defend their preferred version at others' expense by claiming that the character has always been like this and never changed at all and anyone who thinks otherwise is just crazy?

(It's also funny when they claim, in the same breath, that the only people complaining are the hardcore Loki fans and that the show is aimed at a wider audience so of course it's not for us and we shouldn't be mad that they made Loki "actually fun now." Which is an idea that would seem to suggest that, uh, maybe the version in the show, uh, is different? Like to appeal to a wider audience? So which is it, guys?)

*And I'm not talking about the like, oh, "Thor loves poptarts" sort of thing, which absolutely does happen in fandoms. But rather a whole coherent psychological picture of the character, and one that we can easily point to examples and details from the earlier movies to support. The issue, I guess, is that due to the sort of character Loki is, the canon support is not what's stated blatantly by the POV characters (who, given that Loki was an antagonist, have limited insight into his motivations) but rather comes from what we are shown of Loki's behavior and actions and what a thoughtful viewer with a reasonable level of media literacy can infer from those.

Basically, earlier fandom was picking up what was absolutely there in the canon depiction of the earlier movies. Those movies just used more subtlety and nuance in their depiction of the character, and (some) fans of the current show who did not notice those levels are suggesting that means it didn't exist.

[flowercrown-bard]

I saw @little-piece-of-tamlin‘s a tiny stupid geraskier doodle which I love with all my heart bc it’s so cute and got inspired to write a little something. I hope that’s ok

fandom: the witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Modern Au

Word count: 2k

“It’ll rain today,“ Vesemir had said, “You better take a raincoat.”

Geralt should have known better than to ignore his advice. But in his defence, the sky had been completely clear when he had left the house with Ciri to take her to her friend Dara’s house.

The whole way there, she had chattered excitedly, tugging on his hand to get him to walk faster. The only time she had stopped, had been when they had come across a busker standing at the corner of a street.

Suddenly, she hadn’t been that worried about hurrying anymore and she had refused to leave until they had listened to at least five songs.

“You have to give him money, dad!” she demanded and pointed at the empty guitar case that was propped open in front of the busker.

Geralt made a grimace. He didn’t have his wallet with him – why would he, when he was just supposed to walk Ciri over to her friend and go home straight away again – but there was no doubt Ciri would argue with he told her so. And he supposed, he should probably be a good role model to her by paying the street artist, even though Geralt couldn’t help but think that his too bright smile and too happy songs were obnoxious.

The sooner he gave him some money, the sooner, he would get Ciri to continue on their way. So Geralt rummaged through his pockets, thankfully coming up with some spare change that he had forgotten was even in there and tossed it to the busker.

The pathetically few coins he had tossed were the only ones in the case. The sight almost made Geralt feel bad for the busker.

The busker’s singing didn’t stop, but his face brightened and his impossibly blue eyes lit up when he nodded to Geralt in thanks.

Geralt’s mouth went dry and he was glad that Ciri was still holding his hand, for suddenly, he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

He turned away briskly.

“Come on, Ciri, we should get going.” He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Dara’s probably waiting already.”

She pouted, but nodded. Before she turned away, she waved at the busker, who gave her a brilliant smile.

Geralt would have forgotten all about the busker, if it hadn’t started raining just as they got to Dara’s house. What started off as a light drizzle quickly turned into a downpour.

Geralt cursed silently. He didn’t even have his phone with him to call one of his brothers to come pick him up. At least Ciri had gotten inside before the worst of the rain had started.

Geralt threw a glare at the sky that had somehow turned from being bright blue to being a dark grey.

A low thunder rumbled and Geralt hurried along to get back home as quickly as he could, even though he was already soaked to the bone.

His face was set in a grim frown the entire time and he kept his eyes on the pavement before him, watching as the puddles soaked his boots.

“Hey!”

The shout made Geralt’s head snap up. His eyebrows rose in surprise without his permission, when he saw the person that had called out to him and that was now waving at him enthusiastically.

It was the busker from before, sitting beneath one of those umbrellas some cafés put up when the sun was shining too brightly.

Maybe they had forgotten to close it when the rain had started – or they didn’t care. Geralt had no idea how those things worked.

His steps faltered. Quickly, he threw a glance over his shoulder to see if the busker was waving to someone else, but Geralt was the only one on this street. At least the only one still out and about in the rain. Everyone else had fled into cafés or stores to hide from the rain.

Geralt swallowed, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, unsure what to do. He really, truly didn’t want to sit with this stranger who was still waving at him like an idiot.

But then again, the busker was sitting where he was dry while Geralt was standing in the rain unable to decide what to do, so really, who was the real idiot here?

Though inwardly he let out a sigh, knowing he was going to regret this, he walked over to the busker, sitting down on the chair opposite of him.

“Hello there, stranger. I’m Jaskier. You saw me earlier? I was the one playing the guitar.” He gestured to the case he had stowed away beneath the table to keep it safe from the rain. “I was hoping to see you again to thank you properly.” Jaskier’s smile grew so big, Geralt was wondering how it didn’t hurt his cheeks. “Guess I got really lucky that it started to rain, huh?”

Geralt scowled. “If my daughter hadn’t wanted to listen to you play for so long I would have gotten home before it started to rain.”

The busker tilted his head to the side. “Oh, if you enjoyed my singing that much, I should probably play some more, hm? As an apology for letting you get caught in the rain.”

“You really don’t –“ Geralt began, but Jaskier had already bent down to retrieve his guitar.

For a brief second, Geralt was tempted to just get up and leave again. A single glance at the rain made him reconsider and slump back in his chair.

When Jaskier began playing, Geralt had to admit that it didn’t sound terrible. If he had been in a better mood, he would have even enjoyed it, but as it was, he wasn’t very inclined to think any positive thoughts about Jaskier. It didn’t matter that his eyes crinkled at the side when he smiled while singing or that the mob of brown hair that had been so fluffy before was no plastered to his forehead in a way that made Geralt want to reach out and push it out of his eyes.

Abruptly, Geralt turned away. The avoidance of eye contact didn’t last very long. As soon as Jaskier reached the chorus of the song, Geralt’s eyes snapped back up to him.

“Why does it always rain on me?” Geralt asked incredulously. “Seriously?”

Jaskier’s tongue peeked through his lips as he winked at Geralt. “It’s fitting, isn’t it?”

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier’s fingers stilled on his guitar and he let out an overly dramatic sigh. “You’re a tougher audience than your daughter.” His eyes lit up with mischief. “But I’m sure I can find some song that you like.”

“I doubt it.”

“It that a challenge?”

Geralt didn’t answer, but he doubted Jaskier needed one anyway. The busker began to play again, giving Geralt a cheeky wink and his smile grew wider with every song that deepened Geralt’s frown.

It’s raining men.

Fool in the rain.

Raindrops keep falling on my head.

Umbrella.

Blame it on the rain.

After the third song, Geralt was ready to bang his head on the table and block his ears with his hands.

Mercifully, he was saved, when a waitress came by.

“Excuse me,” she said, looking sorry. “The other patrons have complained about your playing. And we’re not really allowed to let anyone sit here unless they buy at least one drink. So I need you to put that guitar away and buy something if you want to stay here.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s face fell and the fingers that had just been plucking the strings rubbed together in a gesture that should have probably been soothing for himself. “Of course. Sorry.”

Carefully, he put his guitar away and grabbed the menu lying on the table. Geralt should have been relieved that the playing had stopped, but the sight of Jaskier, dejected and still dripping from the rain made something in his chest twist. He pressed his lips together.

“Sorry,” he said as well and pushed his chair back, making it scratch against the ground. His skin felt icy just thinking about going back out in the rain and a small part of him felt bad leaving Jaskier alone like this. Granted, Geralt hadn’t been thinking nice things about his singing either, but it was one thing to sit there suffering in silence and another thing entirely, asking a waitress to kick Jaskier out if he didn’t stop playing.

An alarmed expression flickered over Jaskier’s face and he grabbed Geralt’s sleeve when he made to turn away.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “Didn’t you hear the thunder before? You can’t just go out there.”

Geralt shrugged, telling himself the concern of this stranger didn’t feel nice.

“Don’t have any money.”

Something shifted in Jaskier’s expression. A look of utter disbelieve and almost awe crossed his face, before he plastered on a smile that definitely didn’t made Geralt’s chest clench.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” Jaskier said lightly, tugging at his arm until he sat back down again. Geralt could have easily freed himself, but for some reason he didn’t understand, he did as Jaskier bid him. “I’ll pay for your coffee.”

Geralt stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

Jaskier shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Technically, I’m just paying you back. You did give me your money before.”

Geralt blinked. “That wasn’t nearly enough to pay for coffee.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jaskier lowered his eyes and drummed a quick little rhythm on the table. “It was nice. I could really need someone being nice to me today.”

Jaskier gave him a small smile, which Geralt returned without thinking about it. It wasn’t often that people looked at him and didn’t make assumptions. They certainly didn’t call him nice. The only people who really stuck around were his brothers and Vesemir. He was trying to do good by Ciri, but he could still hear the other parents whisper whenever he brought her to preschool. They judged him for being a single dad, for having scars that surely meant that his life was too rough to have a child in it, for having eyes that freaked out some of the kids.

Jaskier hadn’t just started smiling at him when Ciri had urged him to give him some change. His smile hadn’t faltered, despite Geralt scowling at him, despite him not responding to anything he said.

Yet, he had called Geralt over to save him from the rain. And now, even after having spent enough time with him that he must have realised that Geralt wasn’t good company, he still offered to buy him coffee as if it was nothing.

Something warm and fuzzy spread through his chest that almost chased away the cold clinging to his skin from the rain.

Geralt’s mouth was dry and he felt awkward saying it, but just this once, he took a chance. “I could pay for your coffee next time.”

“Next time?” Jaskier perked up, eyes wide.

Geralt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If you wanted to.”

“I’d love to.” Jaskier narrowed his eyes playfully and leaned forward on his elbows. “But maybe I should first know some things about the handsome man who just invited me out for coffee first.”

Geralt grunted, the corners of his lips twitching up. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, your name for starters,” Jaskier laughed. “And your favourite song. As much fun as it was trying to find out how long it would take you to tell me to stop, I would really like to know what to play to maybe make you smile again.”

Geralt blinked. “Geralt,” he said dumbly. A grin spread across his face. “And I would definitely smile if you played Here Comes the Sun when it stops to rain just to piss of those people in there some more.”

Jaskier let out a startled laugh that made Geralt’s stomach flip. It wasn’t often that people laughed at his jokes. His humour was too dry or just plainly not funny enough. But somehow, seeing Jaskier throw his head back laughing at something that wasn’t even that funny, Geralt wanted to make him laugh like that again.

When the rain finally stopped, Jaskier didn’t play Here Comes the Sun, but neither of them even noticed. They were too preoccupied talking about everything that came to mind. What started out as polite smalltalk had quickly turned more personal and Geralt was surprised to find out that he really wanted to get to know Jaskier better.

They talked about Jaskier’s struggle with not feeling good enough when it came to his music and Geralt’s struggles with being a single dad. It was surprisingly easy to open up to Jaskier, who didn’t laugh at him for his doubts, but told him how from the little he had seen of Ciri, she had seemed happy with Geralt.

When they finally left the café again and parted ways, Geralt promised to come by with Ciri again soon and listen to him play again.

--

A year later, they went to the very same café again, this time hand in hand. Almost as per tradition, Jaskier started signing again, though this time he hadn’t taken his guitar with him, far too eager to hold Geralt’s hand the whole time through, much to Geralt’s amusement, which only grew, when he recongnised the song.

You are my Sunshine.

Geralt knew Jaskier mainly did this to tease Geralt – teasing him with his songs was a habit Jaskier would probably never lose and secretly, Geralt loved it – but just as every other time, Geralt didn’t tell Jaskier to stop singing in irritation. No, by now, he had a far better way to get Jaskier to stop.

He leaned forward and seized Jaskier’s lips in a kiss, effectively swallowing the song.

“You were right,” Geralt said, when they pulled away again.

“I usually am.” Jaskier smirked and pressed another quick kiss against Geralt’s lips. “But pray tell, what exactly have I been right about?”

Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “We really did get lucky by getting caught in the rain.”

[eyoricka]

Pete’s assistant - Pete Davidson

Words: 2160

Warning: 2 curse words

Requested: yes

You had been Pete’s assistant for many years now. You had begun as an intern at NBC and that’s how you met Pete. The two of you immediately clicked, there was like a strange bond between you like you always knew each other or were meant to meet, to work together. So at the end of your internship, Pete asked you if you wanted to be his assistant, to help him with pretty much everything. He wasn’t famous enough to really have a publicist, so you also fill up this role. It was funny at first. Pete was nice to you, never asking for anything impossible to get. Contrary to many other celebs with their assistant, he treated you like his equal. Planning interviews was something you enjoyed, he was mostly in some presented by his friends, so it was pretty chill, and you learnt so much. You let Pete took charge of his social media presence, he was more than okay at it, was natural and able to create a connection with his fans.

However, at some point everything changed. Pete got way bigger, he was famous like really famous, not just known by SNL and stand-ups afficionados.  Things got out of hand quickly. You still liked to work for Pete, he was still adorable to you but handling negative comments, the infamous song about him, people reactions and the repercussions on his mental health was a nightmare. You had too much to think about: to make sure he was feeling okay or at least not too bad, to make sure he would sleep, eat, not take too much drugs, go to work, go outside, try to stop the continuous harassment… Pete hired a publicist to take some weight out of your shoulders and have someone who would focus only on his impacted public image. Even though, Pete was probably at rock bottom, it was nice to see that he would still be kind to you, trying to smile a bit when you were ding your best to cheer him up.

And this is how the problems began for you. You knew the rule number one of any assistant: never fall for your boss. But you couldn’t help it. You had always loved his personality however you never considered having feelings for him. However, seeing him hurt, fragile but still caring about his close circle, still trying his best everyday for people he loved, still being nice when he could easily be an ass and take the heartbreak as an excuse, was enough to make you acknowledged that maybe you wanted to be more than a friend to him.

You decided to keep your emotions for yourself. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself or lose your job and friend for feelings that would never be reciprocated. To forget about them, you went on dates with several people, it was a failure. Every time you could stop yourself from comparing your date with Pete. Even if some people were funny enough, smart enough, kind enough, they were simply not enough. A date with them was pleasant but you couldn’t picture more, and it would be cruel to force a relationship with someone you didn’t have feelings for just to hide your current crush. So after some dates you gave up on the idea of finding someone for the moment and preferred to take time for yourself. As the year went on, you were the witness of Pete’s different and non-working relationships. You were happy for him, truly. He was able to move on which was great and he felt more like himself. But it still hurt to see him get far too involved in relations that were doomed to fail. He was too intense and passionate for his own good. You advised him to follow your example and take time for himself, to love himself and understand what he wanted, needed from a partner. Surprisingly, he did it and it did good on him.

A few months later, you were at a small gathering to celebrate Pete’s Netflix comedy special. The reviews were good, and the audience was following, it was great to watch Pete’s career on track to success, he would finally be recognized for his art. You were talking to Dave about the process of writing when you are down and how cathartic humor is. You glanced distractedly several times in Pete’s direction confident that you were discreet. As your drink was empty, you scanned the room to find the nearest bottle of a beverage you like. Your eyes met Colson’s ones and he grinned mischievously at you. You rose an eyebrow wondering why he looked like a devious elf and quickly manage to appease your thoughts, rationalizing that it was only Colson being his drunk and high self.  

As you made your way to the counter full of bottles to pour you a glass, you felt two hands clapped your shoulders. You turned promptly and faced Colson who was smirking even wider.

“What do you want?” You asked not surprised by his presence but cautious about what he was about to say.

“Well just to chat with a lovely assistant, it has been a while since we haven’t talk.” He replied sweetly, an innocent smile replacing his smirk and you understood fully well why so many girls were crazy about him.

“Cut the crap” You deadpanned, not in the mood for his banter.

“I still wonder why I try to sugarcoat things with you” he mumbled certainly more for himself. After some long seconds of silence, he let out in a charming voice: “Don’t you think that would be the perfect night?”

You weren’t sure of what he was implying. He liked flirting but you seriously doubt that he was since he would never cross that border, maybe he was just bored or wanted to tease you. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer that would fuel his joust.

“You don’t ask me the perfect night for what?” He added kind of amused by your lack of reaction. “Well I will tell you anyway because else it wouldn’t be funny. So my dear don’t you think it would be the perfect night to admit your badly hidden feelings for you know who.”

You gulped at those words. You attempt to come back with a witty, chill repartee that would show that you were diverted by this non-sense and not knowing about what he was talking about, but your mind was blank. You were sure that tonight before sleeping while your mind would replay this scene, you would think of many clever replies.

“Still no answer, I bet that this time it is not for the same reason, right” Colson joked, and you cursed yourself.

“I just don’t understand what you mean” you eventually managed to say, cringing at this lame attempt to act cool.

“Your blushing cheeks and stiff body are telling the opposite” Nice even your own body was now betraying you.

“I get that you are bored Colson and even if it would probably be the funniest thing of your night, I don’t plan on becoming the biggest idiot of the party for your entertainment. I know Pete doesn’t like me and it is okay, you can’t control someone’s feelings and…”

“I hope you realize that you already are the biggest idiot of the night” He cut you “and Pete is too. I can’t get my head around the fact that you are both blind, incapable of seeing the way the other looks at you. Shshshsh don’t reply, don’t want to waste my time on hearing you tell me that I am lying, imagining stuffs, and complaining about my behavior, I‘ve already had this long speech from Pete. You can do whatever you want, go tell him or don’t but just know that you don’t risk much. And don’t count on him to come, he is sure he has no chance. So please have the balls for the both you.” He was about to leave you there with many contradictory thoughts filling your head when he leaned to whisper: “But really please do tell him tonight, I bet some bucks with John that you would be the brave one, don’t prove me wrong.”

You nudged him and he burst out of laughter as you showered him with imaginative curses. You decided to sit few minutes just to take time to reflect. You needed to process what you just heard. If indeed had feelings for you, things would change drastically. You felt yourself slowly but surely drifting into panic. A part of your brain was screaming that it was lies maybe because it was easier to accept than the truth. You had dreamt of this but it was a dream and you weren’t sure that you were ready for that right now. Intrusive thoughts were running in your head defeating your ounce of rationality and calm. One of your hand was clenched on your drink firmly and you closed your eyes while inhaling and exhaling to relax yourself. From the outside you certainly looked crazy but you didn’t care, it didn’t even crossed your mind.

You were so focused on your breath that you didn’t notice someone siting next to you and neither feel this person hand on yours. When you opened your eyes, you detect that you were no longer alone and the person with you was none other than Pete. He softly smiled at you and you felt like dying inside, this smile was enough to make you forget any doubts, anything, to appease. You smiled back at him kindly. He seemed to be struggling to say something and you took the lead.

“I guess that Colson talks to you too, huh?” You questioned, your voice was a bit shaking and you had eaten half of your words however you knew that he had understood you.

“Kind of” he stated and your next words died in your throat, you were losing your confidence. Those tow simple words held a clear message: yes we talk but no I don’t like you. “Actually, John did most of the talking” he joked or at least try to. He was also way to stress to really be funny.

You wanted to say something, to admit what was consuming you inside nevertheless you were scared, you refuse to be too blunt on this. You had to be subtle, to find a way to make him realize but without saying it, so if the feelings were not reciprocal it would not be too awkward.

“Colson mentioned a bet on us” You hid your reddening face behind your drink and casually take a sip or at least as casually as you can considering your current position.

“I heard about it too” His fingers were drumming against his tights in nervousness. “I am kind of bother by it you see.” You nodded, you felt crushed inside, of course he would be bothered, who would not be bothered to be shipped with someone they don’t have feelings for. You did everything you could to remain still and not crack, not now, not in front of him, of his friends. “I don’t really any of them to get this money like I guess I want them to be right, but I don’t like them betting on us”. You blinked several times not sure if you were on the same page. “I am not very clear, I am? Well obviously, I am not, I have never been very clear in those situations. Maybe clearer than now, because now what I am saying is a mess, well normally it is confused but understandable. And I am rambling right now and I don’t even know why. Maybe because it is intimidating, like we know each other for so long and what I am saying is that it is different.”  

He had lost you with his confused sentences, was he trying to reject you or the contrary. You wanted a certain answer, not an interpretation based on a wrong reading of the situation, actually you did not want this answer, you needed it. He was still digressing when you took the courage to interrupt him: “Pete please listen to me okay.” He shut up and looked at you in the eyes, sort of hanging of the words you would pronounce. “I like you Pete and not like I like Ricky or John, I mean not like a friend. Do you understand?”

There were few awfully long seconds of silence before you felt Pete’s forehead against yours and his hands on yours. “Fuck, you are a lot better at verbalizing this than I am” He smiled brightly, he was so beautiful when he was happy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked still quite unsure and you gently pressed your lips against his. It was a short and sweet kiss, the kind that promise wonderful tomorrows full of love, full of life.

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

Things I... didn’t like as much, about Black Widow (2021):

Disclaimer: I loved this movie. I would give it 4/5 stars overall. This is a lot of nit-picking. Most of the choices I’m talking about here I still really enjoyed, but this is how I would change them to improve it *for me*. If you disagree, that’s fine! Obviously, spoilers.

I said in my ‘Things I Loved About Black Widow’ post that I consider the first 53 minutes to be perfect, and the rest to be not-so-perfect. This is where I complain about the not-so-perfect stuff. They didn’t drop the ball on the third act, they just...fumbled it a bit. It stayed dark, but to me, it lost a bit of its grit. Cate Shortland’s influence really shone through in the first act, but it got lost around the second and third acts for me because of how Marvel-y it got.

Firstly, I’m considering the hand-to-hand combat here to be second only to CATWS. So why did that element basically dissolve towards the end of the film? She barely fought anyone in the prison breakout. Yes, Natasha fought the Widows, but that was all slowmo-y and widows-bites-y and did not have the same level of choreography. I wish they’d carried it through. 

Talking of action, there was not enough of it between Natasha and Taskmaster (who is getting a whole other post, because that is a bag of mixed feelings I don’t want to delve into here), particularly in the third act. Action isn’t something I’m particularly interested in but I was excited for this dynamic. Antonia wasn’t the villain, but like, the bridge fight did not effectively demonstrate her whole mirroring deal. Yelena and Nat’s fight had more mirroring than her and Tasky’s. Antonia’s skill set really shines in hand-to-hand onscreen, but as I said, I felt that kind of dissolved in the third act. They completely cheated us out of an impressive showdown when Natasha let Antonia out of the cell and moved backwards and I totally thought they were going to duel...which would lead into the sky fight...and then...the room cracks and they’re blown apart?? Hmmm.

Why was the Red Room in the sky??? I get that they were moving around a lot and this movie needed to have some kind of Marvel explosive finale and it looked cool and everything but I prefer the comics’ more grounded version. I just think it would have been more effective for Natasha and Yelena to walk through the old halls of the building they grew up/were trained in, find the new facility underground or something and then blow the whole place to smithereens. It would have actually cemented the whole ‘going back to where it all started’ thing.

Now I know the reason for Dreykov’s off-screen demise was to show how a man as purely evil as him didn’t deserve a major, glorified death. He deserved the death of an afterthought. But I would have liked to see Nat plunge a knife into his heart. Or to see him try to go after Yelena somehow and Nat just shoot him in the back of the head. It didn’t feel like they gave us any closure on that front, particularly as they made a whole deal about Nat not seeing the body in Budapest...and then we didn’t see the body here either. I almost feel like his death was made so insignificant that it was forgettable.

The whole flashing back and showing that actually they did have everything figured out did not work for me, it felt like lazy writing. It gave me “BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING, BET YOU UNDERESTIMATED HER, LOOK HOW CLEVER NATASHA IS! DIDN’T YOU UNDERESTIMATE HER? SHE HAD IT ALL FIGURED OUT YOU FOOLS HARHARHAR” vibes and I was just like...I know. Literally, I know how clever and calculated she is. I knew she wouldn’t have been outplayed like that at Melina’s. Maybe other people didn’t, but come on guys, think up with something a little less ‘gotcha’.

What the hell happened with Nat and Ross before they cut to ‘two weeks later’? *confusion intensifies*

Again, this is getting long. See the read-more.

This movie had a lot of bases to cover and a lot of information to convey and I think the script managed that pretty well overall, but it did lapse into a bit of ‘show-don’t-tell’ syndrome at times. Show me Nat’s mother being ‘relentless’ in her search, don’t just tell me about it. I did not want Renner’s Clint Barton in this movie, but they could have made the Budapest flashback a smidge longer, for my liking.

Disney would never do this, but I would have loved an R-rated Black Widow movie. Yelena is absolutely a character that would yell ‘Fuck!’ really loudly (think Florence Pugh in that cactus video). My suggestions above for Dreykov’s death were me being reserved: Nat stabbing him repeatedly would have been so cathartic (for me, idk about her).

Y’all know I’m a slut for Nat’s everything in this movie, particularly the hair, but goddammit the hair. Riddle me this, if Nat had in a perfectly good braid when she got into the helicopter, why did she emerge with flowing locks and one tiny useless plait on the left side of her head?? And then she redid that into the ponytail with all the little braids while preparing for battle at Melina’s (never mind the fact that Nat’s hair would not have been long enough for them to reach much past her shoulders as well as being tied up) and fit it all under a Melina-wig! HELLO, LOGISTICAL NIGHTMARE SPEAKING.

I’m pretty sure the whole Nat-not-understanding-science-speak thing was only there for the “In English”-*replies in Russian* gag but it still seemed a little ooc since she’s never had a problem with it before. Idk if I would class this is as Nat ‘playing dumb’ to get more information like she does later with Dreykov since Yelena is readily giving her that info, and Yelena is also good enough to realise when she’s being manipulated like that.

Ummmm whole separate post for reasoning and such but the magic dust antidote? Not a vibe. No thank you. Lazy. Unrealistic. 

So...Alexei and Melina. It’s not that I don’t like them as characters - I really enjoyed them, I think they’re great characters. Fascinating to analyse. Did I love the Ohio mission sequence? Yes. Did I really appreciate the family dynamic and all the fanfic possibilities it gave us? Yes. But do I wish they weren’t in this movie at all? Yeah, kinda. The family dynamic was funny, and it was heartwarming, and it was heartbreaking, because it was executed so well, but the fact is that it was added by Kevin Feige to make this movie more palatable for the wider audience. Alexei’s dad jokes breaking the tension were probably an imperative for most audiences to enjoy the film. (Yelena’s dry sarcasm could have filled that role easily for me). But I didn’t want the tension broken. I didn’t want people to relax. I wanted them to come out and have to decompress because it was so intense. It’s easier to market a film about ‘family and going back to the past’ than ‘female subjugation and exploitation’. I don’t appreciate it, but I get it. Making this into a quasi-ensemble piece in the second and third acts just irritated me though. I wanted all the screentime possible to be on Natasha and Yelena. They could totally have pulled it off without their parents.

This really is nitpicky, but would a Liho mention have been too much to ask for? It would have been so easy, when Yelena asked “did you ever wish for kids?”, Nat could have replied with “i have a cat”, which is a good deflection but also informative, or her lockscreen could have lit up to show a tiny black kitten. Idk, this movie used a couple of good comics references and I guess I was hoping for one more.

*whispers and runs away* Bucky should have been here. Goddammit.

In conclusion, a lot of my critiques could be fixed if we didn’t live in a time where this film still had to be palatable for wider audiences who do not care about characters nearly as much as they care about action or humour or plot or spectacle. A lot of the strong choices paid off (they’ve riled up dudebros enough to prove that). The Marvel-y ending and Alexei’s humour did not. The rest is just logistical errors and missed opportunities.

This is a lot of complaining but I promise, these annoyances are much more minor than I’m making them out to be. The movie is magnificent even with them.

[svu-ncis-criminalminds]

Wedding Day

For the Anon who requested : Hey! Can you do a story where it’s Nick and the readers wedding day? Like from both their POV?? Thanks 💕

“You look beautiful, stop worrying.” Rollins assured you, fixing your veil slightly as you waited on the other side of the doors of the wedding venue. 

“I’m not worried. I just want everything to be perfect.” you replied, smoothing out your dress and taking a deep breath. You were only going to marry the love of your life once, it had to be perfect. “When do we go?” You asked. Olivia came to your side smiling reassuringly. 

“Soon. First the wedding party has to walk down the aisle, then the flower girl, and last but not least, you.” You nodded. You knew what order everything happened in, you’d been there for the rehearsal dinner, but it felt reassuring to hear it again. 

“Okay.” You nodded, taking another deep breath before smiling slightly, “Okay.” Liv patted your arm and from the other side of the big doors you heard music start to play.  Olivia went first with Sonny’s best man, she waved at you before she went and you smiled in return. Rollins was next, then a few of your college friends. Finally it was your turn to go, right behind the flower girl, Zara. Music swelled as you entered the room all your friends and family sat in, all eyes were on you. But you were only looking at the man you were marrying. You took a deep breath and smiled properly for the first time that day; suddenly all the stress of the day was worth it. You were marrying the love of your life. 

The song you picked together rang out clearly on the piano, accompanied by a violin and bass. Nick was right, it was a good choice. One of the first songs you had ever danced to with each other in his living room after one of your first official dates. Nick was watching you as you came towards him, your eyes locked. 

-----

Nick saw you start down the aisle and he could have fainted. You looked more beautiful than the day he met you on your first day at the precinct. He remembered it like it was yesterday, how his breath had caught in his throat when he saw you. If he were a different man he may have called it love at first sight. But Nick knew love didn’t work like that, it had to be nurtured and grown. Together. And that’s what you had done as a couple, and what you would continue to do as husband and wife. 

He felt tears prickle in his eyes as you made it to the altar, smiling up at him. He wanted to grab you and kiss you before the priest even got a word in edgewise. But he managed to control himself, he could kiss you plenty later. But he needed contact so he reached a hand out to you, taking yours in his and squeezing as the ceremony began. 

You remained holding hands and Nick melted under the adoring gaze you were giving him. When it was Nick’s turn to say his vows he squeezed your hand again before letting go to take a piece of paper from his suit jacket. 

“Mi Amor,” He started, looking at you. Suddenly everything he wrote down didn’t feel like it was enough for you. “I wish,” He started, lowering his paper, “I wish I had the words to express to you how much I love you, and how lucky I feel every single day being your man. But nothing comes close to describing how I feel. You have done more for me then you can ever know, being your man has made me a better man. You’ve taught me so much about myself and about love and I will spend the rest of our lives thanking you for it.” He paused again and smiled down at you, with your watery eyes. “Don’t cry, amor. You’ll ruin your makeup.” He teased lightly and you grinned wider, wiping away a stray tear. “And I’ve gone a little off book here but.. I wrote down a poem and I still want to read it to you.” 

Nick took your hands again in one of his, and held the paper in his free hand, clearing his throat. 

“ Love is enough: though the world be a-waning, And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the skies be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil over all deeds passed over, Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter: The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover. ” By the end you were properly crying, and Nick couldn’t see it because his eyes were only on you, but several other people in the audience shed their own tears at his words. 

-----

You learned into the crook of Nick’s arm, cuddling up to him as you looked over the reception at the people you both loved; mingling and having fun. The wedding was beautiful. It was everything you had dreamed about as a little girl. The flowers were bright and fresh and the lighting was muted, bathing everything in a soft glow. 

Zara came running up to the two of you, hopped up on cake and good times and climbed into her fathers lap. 

“Daddy, Uncle Munch said we can go visit him in the summer!” She announced happily, grasping her dad’s face in her little hands as she grinned up at him. Nick tickled her side and she fell over, before scooting into your lap to get away from him. 

“Did Uncle Munch say that?” He asked, rolling his eyes fondly. 

“Then I guess it’s true,” You added, brushing some hair from Zara’s face as you held her in your lap. “Your daddy has plenty of vacation time, and I’m sure he would love that.” Nick put his arm back around the both of you and pulled you all in close. 

“Great, now you’re conspiring together? I should have known.” 

“We’ve been conspiracy-ing dad.” Zara informed him and you both laughed. She was quiet for a minute before looking at her dad, “Does this mean I have two mommies now?” That was the question you had been secretly dreading. Zara was old enough to understand that you were her dad’s new wife. You had been worrying yourself sick at the idea that she would resent you over it, over taking her dad away from her mom. But for now all seemed alright. 

“That’s up to you, sweetie. You and y/n. She’s my wife, and your mom will always be your mommy. But y/n loves you very very much. Do you understand that?” He tried explaining, and you smiled at the two of them, feeling nervous energy in your stomach. What if she said she didn’t want you?” Zara tossed her arms around your neck and hugged you. 

“I understand.” She assured. 

“You don’t need to decide now sweetie, you can call me whatever you want.” You smiled, pressing your chin to the top of her head as she continued to hug you. It was getting late. 

“Mommy is my mom.” She stated, and you felt yourself deflate a little bit.

“Of course,” 

“So you can be my mama.” Nick was beaming at the two of you, before getting up quickly. 

“Don’t move you two, I want the photographer to come get some shots before Zara finds the dessert table again. You watched him go, continuing to rock the girl in your arms. Your family. Your stepdaughter. With the amount of love you had in your heart for her, she might as well be your own flesh and blood. 

-----

Nick got caught up talking to an old friend on his way to finding the photographer. He wanted pictures of the two of you, as many as he could get. He was beyond happy at how accepting Zara was being, and how kind and loving you were to her. You’d met plenty of times, you and Nick had been together years now. But things were different now. 

He continued to try and listen to the man talking to him but he kept glancing over at the two of you, sitting there together. Cuddling, laughing, getting along perfectly. It was the happiest he had been since maybe Zara’s birth. Today was the first day of the rest of your lives together. And it was perfect.

[the-queer-observer]

The TOXICITY of straight dating culture: Do you even realize what you teach?

A few months ago, a straight teenage girl explained her crush to me with the sentence “He’s so toxic.”

I know a 17-year-old girl with a little to no clue of how a non-toxic relationship should look like.

I started noticing a certain pattern online and in my real life too.

Now it’s a time for my first disclaimer: I am not straight myself. Nope. Not at all. Perhaps that’s why I see through it.

To this point, all I have done about this is that I have complained to some friends, got over it and went on with my life.

Today, a girl, no older than twelve, has told me about her crush on a “bad boy” and we talked about him for a second. He really did seem like what the definition of a bad boy is for tweens.

I snapped.

And here I am, writing my first tumblr post ever on this very topic.

I want to make clear, this is not an attack on those girls. This is an attack on the society, what it taught them and what it failed to teach.

The youngest girl and me, we talked about music. She said she liked “dramatic” songs and played me some of her favorites.

Disclaimer number two: I did know both the artists, but I don’t actually listen to them. The closest to mainstream music my playlists get is Take me to church by Hozier, the rest being a wide range of songs, interprets and genres from pop punk to death metal and everything in between.

I was actually surprised. One of the two artists she played for me was Billie Eilish. The beginning of the song went:

Don't be cautious, don't be kind

You committed, I'm your crime

Push my button anytime

You got your finger on the trigger

But your trigger finger's mine

The second song was by Maroon 5.

It was even worse:

So what you trying to do to me

It's like we can't stop, we're enemies

But we get along when I'm inside you, eh

You're like a drug that's killing me

I cut you out entirely

But I get so high when I'm inside you

Yeah you can start over you can run free

You can find other fish in the sea

You can pretend it's meant to be

But you can't stay away from me

I can still hear you making that sound

Taking me down rolling on the ground

You can pretend that it was me

But no, oh

I am not going to argue about whether it’s appropriate or whether she understands the lyrics the way I do. It doesn’t even matter. She understands the drama in the song. She understands it enough for me to be concerned.

There are other songs like that. There is a whole culture teaching pre-teen and teenage girls, that “they can’t get away”, romanticizing toxic people and toxic relationships, blurring the lines of consent and guess what? The girls believe it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

I texted my girlfriend and we spent some time looking for straight love-songs, celebrating healthy relationships. None of them were mainstream, but we found things like:

That the world is ugly

But you're beautiful to me

Are you thinking of me

Like I'm thinking of you

I would say I'm sorry, though

Though I really need to go

I just wanted you to know

I wanted you to know

I wanted you to know

I'm thinking of you every night, every day

(My Chemical romance)

And

Desperate for changing

Starving for truth

I'm closer to where I started

I'm chasing after you

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

Forgetting all I'm lacking

Completely incomplete

I'll take your invitation

You take all of me now

(Lifehouse)

First of all: Those are 4 extracts of songs, chosen by me to demonstrate my point and they may or may not reflect the reality, you (the reader) see: those two songs might be just an exception, but in that case this post is still not canceled, because there is enough of other correlations and causation for me to have a reason to write this.

Those songs are “dramatic”, but the drama shifts from the relationship itself and its toxicity to the circumstances and environment. My girlfriend even recommended a punk song called Ne touche pas moi (Do not touch me), which is entirely about consent.

I am not explicitly saying that the songs she played for me are bad. It’s not for me to decide.

But all Billie Eilish’ fans I ever met were in the age range between eleven and fourteen, so I am supposing that’s her target audience. As for Maroon 5, I have no idea. However, music influences us. The girl is old enough to know what kind of music she likes and wants to listen to and with the peer pressure going on there, her parents do not really have a say in what she listens to and they are not to be blamed for this.

It’s the culture.

Toxicity is not a positive trait to look for in a potential partner. Even if he is a good looking one.

Enough of music.

Do you know who the toxic crush was?

Draco Malfoy.

One of the most famous of all characters in media, famously portrayed by Tom Felton in the Harry Potter film series.

Disclaimer number four: I have a problem with the books and movies and I also have some issues with the author.

Still, I see a fandom celebrating the love of Severus Snape for Lilly Evans Potter. Except it’s not love and it’s not a crush either. It’s an obsession. One that has become so iconic, the word “Always” is one of the main symbols of Harry Potter.

It shouldn’t be.

It should have never happened.

Draco Malfoy is quite the same thing. He is a racist, a bully. He is raised to be one, sure... That’s not an excuse. He doesn’t actually have a canonical redemption arch (not counting the deleted scene from the last movie and the Cursed child). If he came up to Hermione, acknowledging his mistakes, apologizing for his behavior, then maybe. Perhaps... That’s another story though. My point is, Rowling fails to actually depict problematic characters as actually problematic, they are romanticized by her, the filmmakers, the fandom and the wider audience.

Girls are taught to be the ones to make the redemption arch happen, irl or in fiction. They are supposed to date whoever is into them, regardless of whether they like the person back, and it’s unbelievably often I see them crushing on villains and problematic people like Draco Malfoy, because they are taught, he would change for them or that they could change him.

Toxicity is not a positive trait to look for in a potential partner. Even if he is a good looking one.

Those together result in a complete lack of knowledge of how a healthy relationship should look like. That’s the case of the third girl I mentioned. Being best friends with both her and her current boyfriend, I had three points of view on their relationship. It’s only been the past few weeks, not more than two month it has shifted to a more positive, healthy relationship.

It’s not the girl’s fault. They learn what a healthy relationship is the hard way, mostly after going through a toxic one(s).

WHY?

The sentence: “I always fall for the bad guys.” lacks the essential: “because the society taught me to” part.

It’s so common.

It’s too common.

It’s not even that we wouldn’t talk about it: we do. But you celebrate it. And that is not okay and that is the reason I am typing this.

Disclaimer number 5: The gender roles in this post are based off of my observations. I do acknowledge the fact that girls can be and sometimes are the toxic person in the relationship and that the lesson boys are thought is no way better (more freeing perhaps, but not right either) . It might not be specific to the straight culture either, but again, my observations were.

I was about thirteen, when I figured out I was gay and I had to learn everything on my own. How the relationships should work out, what is healthy and what is not... I had to learn on my own because the society failed to teach me anything. I am yet to decide whether that’s better or worse than teaching the wrong one.

[li-lii-week]

LiLii Week: A Long Story

"Tell me a story."

UrLii was used to that line. It was apart of his life now, an expected request with a familiar outcome, only diverting from monotony in detail. Coming up with something new was the hard part, but that could be amended with time; the endless well of trine passing had granted him that gift, and he liked to think he used it wisely.

"Tell me a story," the children would say to him, voices raised in excitement, large obsidian black eyes seeming to grow ever wider in delight.

It was these little ones who made the duress against him the most, though it was a forceful request he took on with gratitude and grace, knowing that this was the somber duty of the one who bore his title. The title, too, he bore graciously, finding in the moniker his sense of purpose fulfilled. He was a weaver of stories, there to entertain.

Or, rather, he used to be. Age had eaten away at him, and his mind seemed to suffer the brunt of time's wrath. The little ones grew, no longer needing him. Soon enough he had faded from their memory, except as the Tomb's senile old guardian, who they upon occasion had to deal with.

This he had come to accept. It was only natural. Young things moved on, leaving the old behind like the abandoned shell of a unamoth chrysalis when they were no longer needed; The Grottan had outgrown him.

"I said: tell me a story."

The voice, high and lilting with the undercurrent natural to singers, rang out to him again. It snatched his reverie from him, leaving him almost disoriented until he recalled exactly who the voice belonged to. He turned his head, looking out over the canyon to his reflected image.

SkekLi must have gotten bored. He often was these days, trapped on top of that mushroom with nothing to do and no one besides UrLii to talk to; well, there was the occasional gelfling, but when they stopped to bring the two their meals they never lingered to speak; UrLii could not blame them for that either. SkekLi had done wrong in their eyes, and in his shunning was part of his punishment.

Quite fitting for one who once commanded the attention of a rapt audience. Now, however, UrLii was his sole companion, and he suffered his tides in mood, whenever they came or went, both high or low. UrLii tilted his head at him, wondering which mood he was in now with a sort of detached interest.

"A story? You hate my stories."

SkekLi fidgeted slightly, a symptom of the boredom that plagued him.

"I...I just want something to complain about. I mean, your little tales are fine, Other, but they are not art."

Too smug for his own good. UrLii smiled, ever so slightly.

"You seek to exacerbate your suffering? You're a strange prisoner, SkekLi."

"I don't want to further my torture," the Satrist snapped, "I just feel even horrible entertainment is better than none. If I wanted you to torture me, I'd ask you to read to me again."

UrLii smiled a little more. SkekLi had become frustrated almost to tears with how slowly UrLii read, and made him swear upon the Crystal that he would never do so again. He reached up with one of his feet and scratched under his chin with the claws upon each toe- a display of dexterity learned after hundreds of trine squeezing his way into tight tunnels.

SkekLi looked on in a mixture of disgust and interest.

"...You changed," he said at last, barely a whisper against the wind, "you barely resemble me anymore. What happened to you?"

UrLii chuckled. "Indeed, what happened?"

Bioluminescent moss grew from the tangles of his mane, his skin had grown pale, seeming too to glow in the dark of the caves. His fingers and toes were elongated, good now for gripping onto slippery rocks as he climbed; he was thin, almost bony, with joints that could dislocate to allow him passage to places others his size normally could not go. His teeth, too, almost seemed to resemble the stalactites and stalagmites around him, though this was moreso due to neglect than a necessity of survival.

UrLii shrugged. "It's a long story."

"Tell it to me, then," SkekLi said, "tell me how you came down here. Tell me what happened to you."

UrLii, in truth, hadn't expected that response. His mouth snapped shut and stayed that way for a long while. When he did open it again, his voice was quiet.

"...I no longer remember."

"Then make something up! You're the storyteller, aren't you? Improvise!" He articulated the sentiment with an impatient gesture of his arm.

UrLii shook his head. "I..."

"Oh, don't quit on me now! Here, I'll guess, and you'll correct me until we can jog your memory. Let's see: you...you came down here, didn't you? Probably fell down a hole, I bet."

UrLii chuckled and shook his head.

"You are right in one aspect, I did come down here, but I did not fall. I crawled through a tunnel in a clifface, very deliberately."

That was clear. He couldn't remember why he had done so, but that point was clear: he had done it willingly.

SkekLi smirked. "Oh of course, of course, whatever you say. And then what happened? Oh! Some monster tried to swallow you whole."

"Wrong again: UrLii encountered no monsters along his underground journey, but many lifeforms indeed. He was surprised to see such an array of beauty could be found beneath Thra's surface, as diverse as above. He crawled and made his way through the tunnels for days..."

Yes, it was coming back, blurry but there. Solidifying.

"Aaaaand then you hit your head on the low ceilings."

"And then I met a little gelfling girl."

"You did?"

"Yes. She was lost, more so than I."

"And then you both wandered about the tunnels, going deeper and deeper, and were never seen again. Some say you're still out there, looking for a way out, and on particularly quiet nights, they can still hear your cries-"

"No, we found our way to Domrak, together. We became good friends."

"Friends," SkekLi snorted, "bah!"

UrlIi nodded. "It's true, we still are, in fact."

Little Argot, not so little anymore. UrLii smiled.

"We taught one another many things. I taught her all I knew, and she what she had learned-"

"And then she used the arcane mystic arts to turn you into a disgusting, gross monster!"

UrLii chuckled again.

"Oh, no. That transformation was much more gradual than that. In fact, UrLii didn't notice what had happened until he realized that it was suddenly much easier to climb rocks."

He wiggled his fingers at SkekLi. "Who knows? Perhaps you too, over time, will grow to become as handsome as I have."

SkekLi shook his head, crinkling his face in disgust. "Oh, by Thra, no! What a horrid fate! Even you wouldn't leave me to that, would you?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. None can tell what the song holds in store for us."

And that was too true. He didn't know what was in the future for him and SkekLi, and he could barely remember the past; but it seemed, strangely, that it was becoming more clear the longer they played this game. UrLii tapped his chin.

"But back to the story: UrLii stayed with the Grottan for many, many trine, a secret they did not know of, until one day-"

SkekLi took the bait, playing right back into the game as if they had never paused for respite.

"Until one day UrLii's terrible singing rang throughout the caverns so loudly the Grottan banded together to put an end to it once and for all!"

SkekLi grinned. "They trapped him and ensnared him, and bound his snout up with ropes and chains, sticky concoctions and webs, until he promised never to sing again!"

UrLii feigned at offense. "No, in fact, they quite enjoy UrLii's singing, I'll have you know. No, it was an accident that they came across him, and Argot's secret exposed..."

A long, long story, unraveling in order the longer they played the game. UrLii couldn't always correct SkekLi, but when he could he found the memory more clear than it had been in trine. Things came back to him more easily, and it seemed for the moment that the fog over his mind lifted; and for the first time in awhile- a long, long while, he felt his title had meaning again.

[hqprotectionsquad]

Hello! can I request a hc of Oikawa, Bokuto, Kuroo and Ushijima’s reaction to their s/o who’s titled as the goddess of volleyball who also won the nationals but unfortunately fainted or fell sick right after the competition. Sorry for my grammar and if the idea is quite weird 😅 Thank you in advance thoo! I hope you have a nice dayy! 💜

Oikawa, Bokuto, and Kuroo reacting to his S/O getting hurt during Nationals

A/N: hi! thanks for your request! i basically took in the request as the s/o’s team is going to nationals or is also going, and then took it from there! so not exactly the same, but slightly more realistic! also i expended all of my energy on the three of them and i don’t have any more brain power to think of ushijima 😭i’m sorry!!!

Oikawa

He’s definitely supportive of you no matter what.

Oikawa shows up to the end of your practices with your favorite snack. (He also eats like half of it before he even gets to you because he just came from his practice.)

“Hey Y/N-chan, I got you your favorite snack!” He says as he holds out the plastic bag to you.“You definitely ate part of it.”“WhaaaaaAAAt no! Why would I ever do that?”

You’re really appreciative of everything he does for you because he is oh so whipped.

Since his team didn’t make it to the spring nationals, he takes his loss in stride. Yes, he’s upset, but it’s nothing he’s not used to. ;-;

He loves the fact that you’re so excited to experience this new thing since it’s your first time going to nationals!

You two have been to Tokyo once as a special date, but to experience it together as a participant and their supporter is really awesome!

Oikawa takes the opportunity to know what it’s like to be an audience member and not on the court. Sure, he has watched games but usually to analyze them. He isn’t saying he won’t but he definitely wants to try to take a step back.

(He also uses this time to eat. I mean, they have so many food stands! He slips away to find a street market and dig in while you’re in practice.)

Your matches go splendidly and you’re more than thrilled when your team earns a place in the finals.

“Y/N! I’m so proud of you!”

But the match isn’t going as well as you had hoped to.

As your team’s libero, you’ve grown accustomed to smacks to the face and hits that hurt your ribs for days.

However, one of the last spikes in the game takes you out of commission as it totally knocks the wind out of you and you can’t get the air into your lungs without the medical team bringing you to their wing.

At that moment, Oikawa wanted to rush the court and help you even though he isn’t experienced like the nurses are. He just felt so helpless, who wouldn’t?

For whatever reason, significant others aren’t allowed in until after the athlete should be okay to go on their own, but it’s Oikawa. C’mon. The man knows how to get through anything and everything that’s in his way.

"Y/N-chan, what did I tell you about taking it easy, now look what you did to yourself.” He scolds you teasingly as you are resting on the nurse’s bed. He whispers a bunch of cute little things to you while your eyes are shut. He knows you can’t hear him, but he says these things anyway.

When you wake up, he leaves so that you have some time with your parents.

And when he comes back, the first thing you do is wrap your arms around him so tight that he forgets to breathe.

“You’re breathtaking.” His eyes flicker at the pun and you smack him a good one. “Ow, Y/N-chan! They should’ve put you back in the game, you’re fine now!”

Bokuto

The two of you are dating long-distance, so although he couldn’t be there for all of your games, Bokuto made sure he sent texts with lots of love before and after each one.

However, he made a trip to your part of Japan and he was there when your last play was the one where it decided you were heading to nationals!

Bokuto was extremely surprised at how amazing you blocked the ball and it went straight to the floor. Your teammates crowded around you and all jumped for victory.

But was he surprised that your team was heading to spring nationals? Of course not! Your team is one of the most hardworking teams out there.

He takes you out to eat after your match, as a good gentleman should.

“I can’t wait to see you in Tokyo next month! You’ll finally see where I live!”

When your team arrives for the spring nationals, Akaashi holds him back from meeting you before you settle in.

“What?! Why can’t I see her once she comes in?”“You’re going to bother her team.” (cue emo Bokuto)“But—” “You’ll see her later.” (cue happy Bokuto)

He finally takes you out on that date he’s planned since months ago. Minus all the ice cream you were going to eat together, so now he’ll have to eat it by himself. (He’s not really complaining.)

When your matches begin, he’s in the crowd as often as he can. He arrives as early as you do, making sure he gets a seat super close so he can take photos. (Yes, Bokuto is aware he’s also competing at nationals. He still does it.)

Bokuto on snapchat: “THAT’S MY GIRL 🥵😭SO GOOD BABY!” (He is definitely that cringy, but I feel like he doesn’t know he’s being cringy.)

The worst thing is that some of your matches coincide with one another, but you make sure to catch up afterwards. It doesn’t bother you as much as it does Bokuto, but you know in an ideal situation, you both would be able to support the other full-time.

What’s even worse is when your team arrives to the semifinals, you’re over for the game because of a rough shot right to your fingers. The nurse talks to you as she tapes your fingers.

“Luckily, nothing is dislocated—”“So I should be good to go back in then?”“You didn’t let me finish. I don’t recommend you going back into the game if you think you’ll continue onto the finals. You have a better chance then because your hands might be semi-healed.”

You return to the court, but on the bench. Head hung, but you’re hopeful for the rest of the game, as you cheer on your teammates.

The game came out close and your team had the upper hand this time around.

“(Y/N)! We heard what happened!” Bokuto rushes up to you after both of your games are finished. Akaashi trails in the background and silently provides his condolences for your fingers. “Are you okay?” Your boyfriend hugs you gently, which could leave one with their mouth open, but he has always made sure that his hugs never hurt you despite his stature.

“I’m okay! I should still be able to play in the finals in two days. How did your match end up?”“Ah, we ended up losing. I’m still recovering from it. Right, Akaashi? Tell (Y/N).”“Yeah, he’s still working on it. Clearly.”

Bokuto and Akaashi are in the crowd for the finals. They originally sat but every time you blocked the ball, Bokuto would raise to his feet and start cheering for you. The people in his section kicked him and Akaashi out for disrupting. Now they’re standing by the railing and Bokuto doesn’t even have to get up because he’s already—you guessed it—standing.

Your team was not the better six this time around, but lucky for you, you have Bokuto and Akaashi to comfort you with hugs (Bokuto), handshakes (Akaashi), and ice cream.

Kuroo

Kuroo's been excited for you and your team since the start.

"I know you guys are going to make it to nationals. Have you seen your team? You all are much more talented than some of the people here.""That's not very nice to say, Tetsurou.""I'm just saying the truth. I'll be at the match."

Kuroo's usually busy, but hearing that he'd be at the match makes your heart squeeze.

You're the outside hitter/wing spiker of your team and you love know that any time you get a shot in, Kuroo's cheering for you in the crowd.

After the match, he’s waiting for you outside of the court with a small bouquet of flowers. (From where he bought those, you have no idea and he has no intention of letting you know.)

“You did amazing, I’m so proud of you,” he says while squishing you in a tight hug. You can’t breathe anymore, but who really cares for necessary human functions?

“Thanks for the love, Tetsurou. Let’s go out to eat!” He has to choose the restaurant because you can’t choose; everything looks good to a hungry athlete!

You two have never been at a tournament together, competing together, so please forgive him when he spends his break with Kenma because he forgot that you had a match.

It's really exciting because Kuroo is the captain of the host representative team and even though it doesn't mean he's the king of the world, he's the king of your world.

To experience Tokyo at this bustling time alongside your lover is beyond words. To have him by your side instead of through a screen is so much better.

Your last match is unfortunately pretty rough. You dug for the ball, just as another girl had. You heard a crunch and you couldn't tell who it came from.

This is the only match Kuroo could attend and he winces in pain seeing the collision on court. He soon realizes that it's you and exits the top floor to come down to the court floor.

You're able to get up after the medic stretches your limbs and it doesn't seem like there's anything wrong from a first glance. They take you in for a full exam.

Kuroo isn't ready to freak out, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't suppressing any feelings. He needs to be strong for you. He plays games on his phone to distract himself, sends a few texts to the team to let them know he'll be late to dinner.

You come out with a smile that grows wider seeing him. "You were here the whole time?"

"Of course." Don't mind him, he's crying on the inside because he feels like he's so lucky to have someone who is actually sunshine. "You were amazing out there, and I don't want to hear anything about your cute ass complaining you didn't do good enough."

[meandmyechoes]

Something I wrote May 8th, 2020 02:44 about Rebels that I forgot to publish. But actually contain a lot of context for how I feel about reusing Ahsoka in general. I formally apologize for every ill will I had for Rebels Ahsoka’s design.

hot take: I don’t like Rebelsoka. Yeah, as if you can sum up my opinion like that.

Why I don’t like her is a really petty and subjective bias, so I am not being fair.  The real problem I have with Rebelsoka was mostly my personal lack of enthusiasm in her art style and early on her role was... replaceable. Her unique place is as an ex-Jedi, which is why I’m glad and more accepting when they turn her story away from the Rebellion to focus on Jedi Business. Her early lines in Rebels was... delivering information that could easily been given to another rebellion officer. And it felt off to switch from that unsure teenager to this full-blown wise mentor.

With everything, the final verdict is of course, Rebelsoka is amazing. In the end the potential outweighs my complaints. Yeah, information feeder, cryptic vocabularies or poor cosmetic choices can be forgive in exchange for awesome duels, delightful mentoring and GOSH THAT ANGSTY “ANAKIN”. not that i hope we see more ahsoka stories but i hope we see more ahsoka stories you know. more than that 45 minutes of it ◔̯◔

As a TCW traditionalist, of course that was my definition of Star Wars. Bitter of replacement was a common feeling in the year 2015, but I’m also reasonable enough to expect a major stylistic change with Disney’s acquisition. So all in all, I am glad we at least have another show instead of none at all.

Even though I dropped out, I was there for Rebels in the beginning. If nothing, I learnt from Clone Wars not to underestimate a Season 1. Yes, no one from the Ghost crew captivated me the way Ahsoka did, but I liked them all equally. It was an enjoyable show when I judged it as an exposition and sanely do not compare it to the finale that Clone Wars was building. So Ahsoka coming back at the end of Season 1 really put me in a difficult place, when I thought I could move on to this new family, having accepted her departure.There were rumours, but I kinda expected her to set off the S2 premiere instead. I was also spoiled of that very last minute of revelation. Anyway, when she came back, and I heard Ashley’s voice, I just broke into tears. It’s literally a resurrection. I also couldn’t believe, that I actually get to see Ahsoka again in my life, and that she is suddenly so mature and wise.

It was difficult for me to adjust for two reasons: the art style and her maturity. I guess now I could put myself next to Anakin in 709 describing how I felt meeting Ahsoka again. I also really hated her art style in Rebels initially. She was... streamlined? had slick skin, but her lekku stripes are jagged, and i never get to see how her lekku grew into the shape they are now. and her whole facial patterns are different too?? and she actually doesn’t have clear sky blue eyes anymore? but somehow has deep purple eyes? and just all around no-no with the art style when it first came out. The style wasn’t an issue when you don’t have the my favourite as a veteran character for comparison. (say you don’t see me complaining about Hondo that much but didn’t they do him dirty) Even though I had no problem with her outfit or headdress, it’s just not my favourite of hers. and the fact that they’re forcing me to watch a cartoon character lined with age! and how tired she looks, with wrinkles! and pouches under her eyes! don’t do this to my poor daughter! let her stay happy and carefree as a 14-year-old 5ever! (18-year-old me holding an angry PTA sign)

It also closed a book on however I want her to be. stupid war in the stars making me accept canon. I would’ve been content with her just leaving and staying alive, when every fan set out on her dying before RotS. Yeah maybe she threw her entire ‘life’ away but at least, she’s not, dead you know. And seeing her thrown into another war, threw herself into another war, I wan’t sure I could handle that. The grief, the guilt, the regret, the sight of not seeing her standing by her family again. (good lord Filoni gave us the Rex and Ahsoka hug ;_;) I just want her to stay happy and carefree in my head okay?

and that constant battle of wanting to see more of your favourite character but also level enough to not want her to steal the spotlight form a promising new cast? and the lowkey distrust towards Disney that they brought in Ahsoka to trick more audience into a less-popular show? as a fake-ass apology? Are you suppose I’m ever gonna forgive you for cancelling Clone Wars even though you brought back its characters and basically made a TCW sequel? Are you asking me to overlook the damage, done to both TCW veteran characters AND Rebel’s originality if you don’t do it right? And when they really don’t give us much Ahsoka mid-season it was kind of.... *deflating high-to-low 7-note crescendo* If Disney is actually giving us “what the fans want”, it’s because we damn well deserve that apology without ever needing to forgive, less alone thank. 

So anyway, I did dropped out of Rebels after the Season 2 finale. A bit of real world reasons too because I was getting busy in college and I have Rider, an all-year-round show to fall back on. So i just totally turned away from Star Wars in general after March 2016 where it was dead dead for Clone Wars. I caught up a bit of S3 but never finished it, and I’ve been on and off trying to do it to recover from TLJ but it didn’t feel enough (+ plus real busy irl)

I only even found out Ahsoka the White on social media and was utterly confused. Not sure if it was the best decision creative-wise then, and frankly hand’t given much thought since. But I definitely don’t mind Ahsoka Not Dying. I think I have more questions directed to this girl in person on her life and fashion and spaceship choices more than anything. You just sort of reached a point where like god let them rest. 

I only wrapped up the series before I saw Walkabout. And there was like a 3-month gap since I started rewtaching late January after ep9. But I ran through the last season in 2, 3 days? It was really good. I didn’t expect it focus on just one planet, but the plot was good, even though the primary enforcer villain monkey just looks meh. Somehow strangely, the character I grew attached to is Kallus. You know, he is not in the main cast whatsoever so he really may not die? And the whole time as the finale draws closer I just was on the edge of my seat hoping none of my faves die. (Yeah the only mistake that finale made was sacrificing Gregor. not nice Dave.)

And the epilogue was amazing. The resolution again subverts expectation in a good way and gave us what’s plausible but not expected. And I love how the show actually balanced warfare and lore. The mythological episodes border on fantasy fairy tales but it still suits my taste. The balance is actually better done here than on Clone Wars. In a show titled Clone Wars, you kind of expect it to be about Clones and Wars. But Rebels connected the spiritual journey of the characters to the wider warfare. They needed the Force to train and guide them to their victory. And this prominence of the Force as a plot element and narrative influence is something I found missing in the later seasons of the Clone Wars (6 not withstanding).

The show made me genuinely escalates in loving these characters and gave us a well-rounded, complete Star Wars experience. It’s not my favourite, but it’s definitely a good show. 

[blacklister214]

Illusions (Chapter 4): Milestone

L.A., 1983

Caleb spun and dipped Delilah, executing the move with perfect precision. Dancing with a partner had, in life, been a bit trying for him, but he had to admit this wasn't as aggravating as he remembered. That was probably due to Delilah. She was nearly as much of a perfectionist as he was and didn't complain about going into overtime if it meant getting a routine right. Just as important, the dancer had no more romantic interest in him than he had in her.

If there was one thing he didn't miss about his old life, it was the constant hetrosexual façade he'd had to maintain. Constantly squiring empty-headed starlets around town had been exhausting. Unfortunately he'd had no choice. The fan magazines needed to report on his "womanizing" ways, or people would wonder why a man as handsome, rich, and charming as Caleb Covington wasn't settled down with a nice wife. A cad was acceptable by Hollywood standards. The truth about Caleb was not.

Attitudes towards those of Caleb's persuasion hadn't completely changed with the times, but within this small group of performers, he didn't feel the need to hide that aspect of himself.

"-I tell you this, and ain't just jive. Though I'm dead, I have never felt so alive." He flipped Delilah high in air and caught her with ease. Yet another benefit of ghosthood.

"I feel like a king with," He and Delilah poofed themselves into the chair they'd set up as the makeshift "throne" on the band platform. He used his scepter to cue to the band.

"When I swing with," This time they landed themselves on the room's chandelier. They rocked it back and forth while the musicians played the accompaniment.

"When I sing, sing, sing, sing, siiiiinnnnngggg" He held out his hand and together they jumped, vanishing in mid-air, only to appear on the main stage, Caleb on one knee before Delilah.

"With you!" The band executed the final notes and there were a few seconds of silence before the whooping started.

"That was the best we ever played!" Caleb stood, keeping his face impassive, but he silently agreed. He only hoped that didn't mean they would fall flat this evening. Ignoring the gushing, he moved over to the table where he kept his notes.

"We are knocking them dead tonight!"

"Or deader as the case may be!" Caleb frowned regretting, not for the first time, his audiences weren't a little more lively. Ghosts would enjoy their talents, but lifers would be awed.

"Silence all! Let's hear from our illustrious leader." Delilah's voice rang out clearly and everyone became mute. He could feel a dozen pairs of eyes drilling into his back. He sighed and turned to them.

"The show starts at 8. I expect everyone back in the green room by 6:30. Don't be late." The musicians seemed to deflate a bit. Good. The last thing Caleb wanted was for the band to feel complacent.

He knew better than anyone that the greatest performance often came when the performer felt they had something to prove. Everyone in this room now had the perfect motivation. They'd play their hearts out just to spite him.

Caleb could tell by the set of Delilah's jaw that she was not amused but she pasted on a smile and turned to the musicians.

"Quick, scurry before he decides to keep us all for more rehearsal." The band popped out one at a time until only his partner remained. Her hands went to her hips, the universal sign for an unhappy woman.

"Yes?" If she needed to scold him, they might as well get it over with before this evening's show.

"It wouldn't kill you to be nicer to them." Caleb cocked an eyebrow at her in a way so many of his fans had adored.

"Nothing would kill me at this point. That is the main perk of being dead." The expression on Delilah's face communicated he wasn't winning her over with his quip.

"Treat them well or they won't stick around. It's not like you're paying them and they need the job." Caleb smiled to himself, remembering all the tongue lashings he'd delivered during his life to castmates and crew members who hadn't been pulling their weight. If Delilah had known him then, she'd realize the kid gloves with which he handled his current band.

"They will stick around for the same reason I tolerate having them around. I am offering them an opportunity to perform again." That was all the carrot he needed to keep drawing them back. Caleb provided a venue, an audience, new music to play, and a star. What more could they possibly want from him?

Delilah stared at him a moment without speaking and then let her arms fall to her sides. She seemed less angry, but more...sad? Disappointed?

"If you keep pushing everyone away, you're going to end up spending eternity alone." Caleb fought the unpleasant roiling of his gut. He didn't care what Delilah thought. He didn't need her good opinion.

"I'm not alone." Warmth flooded him as he thought of Alex, pushing away all of the unpleasantness in the conversation. He smiled to himself, remembering he won't have to wait much longer before his next visit. He'd planned to drop by Alex's room at 5 pm, in a mere three hours.

"How is Alex?" Caleb's mind jerked back into the moment and he saw Delilah's expression had shifted again. She looked almost amused about something, but for the life of him, no pun intended, he couldn't imagine what. How had she guessed at the direction of his thoughts? 

Also, why was she asking him about Alex? She had only met him the one time, and things had been a bit one-sided. Still, Alex was an extremely charming child. Caleb had liked him from their first meeting and he liked almost no one. Naturally she'd be interested in the boy's well-being.

"Fantastic. He's the best student in both of his dance classes. The teacher put him downstage center. A little brat named Kimberly was furious, but cream will rise to the top."

Caleb had been unable to resist peeking in the classes from time to time. He'd wanted to assure himself that Alex was happy and the teacher wasn't completely incompetent. Caleb felt she wasted too much time on the hopeless students, but such was the nature of her profession. His opinion of the woman had greatly risen when she had given Alex his place of honor.

"Is it possible you're privately tutoring him as well?" Caleb frowned, wondering at the purpose of her question. Was she implying Alex didn't deserve to be the star in his class? That Caleb was unfairly giving the boy an advantage?

"I may have given him a few pointers. He has natural ability and the drive to better himself, so why wouldn't I assist him?" It wasn't as though Alex's parents would have been of any help. 

His mother would have to tear herself away from her many community-minded commitments. Heaven knew protests at women's clinics didn't organize themselves. For a woman supposed so committed to children and family she didn’t seem to spend much time with her own.

Alex's father had stopped his bullying ways since Caleb's intervention, but the experience had had an unanticipated side effect. These days Greg seemed a bit leery of Alex. Caleb suspected his threat had made Greg Mercer wonder if his four year old was in communication with a demon.

The man had actually nailed multiple crosses up all over the house, including in Alex's room. The Mercer family was also now attending church every Sunday. Grace was now always said before dinner. Still, it was an improvement over the unceasing criticism and Alex had been allowed his dance lessons. Overall it was a positive outcome.

"Caleb Covington, you are not the bastard everyone thinks you are." Caleb blinked at Delilah's pronouncement. Was she implying he was soft because he happened to spend a little of his time with a delightful child? He couldn't let that stand.

"Take that back." He pointed a finger in her direction in warning. Delilah's smile only grew wider.

"Fine. You're not the COMPLETE bastard everyone thinks you are. See you tonight." She vanished before he could refute her again. He resented the implication that he was in any way weak. He had worked hard to cultivate an air of implacable authority. To be a man both respected and feared throughout Hollywood. Was Alex's influence changing him somehow? Fundamentally altering who he was? 

Caleb closed his eyes, shutting out the world, and thinking only of Alex. Once again the feeling of peace swept over him. He let himself completely surrender to that feeling.

"-IS real!" Caleb's eyes popped open, startled. He swung his head around the empty ballroom. He had been certain that he had heard Alex's voice as clearly as if the boy were right in front of him. Was this another ability manifesting?

He closed his eyes and tried again, finding the place within himself that belonged to Alex.

"Is so!" There! Caleb frowned at the tone Alex had used. Alex sounded angry. Alex was almost never angry.

"Is not!" Interesting, he could hear other voices as well. This one seemed to belong to a young girl.

"Is so!" Not most witty of replies, but Caleb was proud of Alex's refusal to be cowed. It was often difficult for Alex to assert himself. Caleb had been working to help him overcome that fear and apparently those lessons were already paying dividends.

"Is not!" The little girl was practically screeching at this point. Caleb couldn't possibly imagine what could be getting both children so agitated.

"I see Caleb too! I see him right there. You can't because you're a meany-face!" Yet another voice. A boy this time. And what had he said? 'I see Caleb too!'? Caleb was more than a little surprised that he himself had been the cause of the argument. He generally encouraged Alex not to speak of him at all.

"Mommy! Luke called me a-" The girl's voice drifted off until Caleb could no longer hear her. Presumably she'd gotten too far from Alex.

"Luke? Are you sure you see Caleb? Because I don't see him." Alex's voice had gotten softer and Caleb could hear the worry in his voice. Alex had asked Caleb once if he'd still be able to see Alex when he got older. Caleb had assured Alex he would, but the truth was Caleb had no idea. Hearing Alex's voice now made him wonder if the boy had truly believed his comforting claim.

"I pretended." This 'Luke' didn't seem at all ashamed of his lie. An interesting contrast to Alex, who had once confessed to eating a stolen cookie less than a minute after taking his first and only bite. Alex hadn't even been the one to steal the cookie. Caleb had done it on his behalf. An ill-advised gesture as it turned out since Alex couldn't explain how he'd gotten the cookie from the top shelf of the pantry. The poor boy had ended up grounded for the week.

"Why?" Caleb was interested in hearing this answer as well.

"Because Sarah's a meany-face." Even Caleb had to admit that was rather sweet. This 'Luke' sounded as young as Alex, but already he had chosen to be Alex’s champion. Caleb decided he'd like to clap eyes on the child and thank him for his chivalry. It was sooner than he'd intended, but plans changed all the time.

Caleb found himself standing next to a large sandbox. The park. That would explain the voices of the other children.

"Caleb!" Alex yelled excitedly as he almost always did when Caleb appeared. How far they've both come from the day of Alex's 4th birthday when Alex had screamed in terror at the sight of him.

"He's here?!" The boy, "Luke" sounded nearly as excited as Alex did.

"Right there!" Alex pointed and Caleb watched and waited. Judging from the way Luke swiveled his head and squinted, Caleb could tell he was as invisible to the boy as he was to everyone else. After a minute the boy shrugged and waved. Caleb took a step to the left, just to be certain, but Luke's eyes remained on the space where Caleb had been.

"Hi Caleb! I'm Luke." Caleb loosed a small laugh. Though Luke couldn't see him, he still believed Alex that Caleb was there.

"Alex, please tell Luke that I'm very pleased to meet him and that I said thank you for being such a good friend to you." Before Alex could relay the message he was interrupted by the arrival of two women and the wretched child from earlier. The first was clutching the little’s girl’s hand, looking deeply affronted. The second lady, looking no lest incensed stopped before Alex’s defender.  

"Lucas Patterson! Did you call Sarah a 'Meany-face'?" Given the similarity of features, Caleb could only assume this was Luke's mother. Surely she wasn't taken in by the little girl's crocodile tears?

"Yes." Luke sounded no more contrite than he'd had early. The furrowing of the woman's eyebrows told Caleb the boy's mother hadn't missed the lack of repentance either.

"Then you need to apologize to her right this minute!" Luke's face turned positively mulish, making him resemble his mother even more. His arms folded across his chest.

"No! She IS a meany-face. And a tattle tale." Mother and son gazed into each other eyes, forcefully reminding Caleb of an Old West showdown. All that was missing was a tumbleweed rolling through the park. Finally Luke’s mother turned to the other woman. 

"I apologize for my son's rudeness. We are going home." The woman held out her hand to her child. Luke uncrossed his arms, looking as aghast as if she'd raised her hand to spank him.

"But Moooommmm-" Luke was brought up short by a look that even Caleb found somewhat intimidating.

"Say goodbye to Alex." Luke's posture flopped, signally that his mother had won the day.

"Bye Alex." He paused, then deliberately turned to where Caleb had first appeared. "Bye Caleb." Luke quickly stuck out his tongue at the little girl before at last taking his mother's hand. Caleb smiled, admiring the boy's moxie.

"I like him." Caleb turned at Alex's comment and found him staring after Luke. He realized that he could have just witnessed a major milestone for Alex. Alex was generally liked among other children, but he didn't have any one child in particular he was close with.

"Me too." Though he'd only seen the boy for a few minutes, Caleb was already convinced Luke was just the kind of loyal companion Alex deserved. Someone who would watch over him when Caleb couldn't. Someone who would listen to him.

"Caleb?" Caleb looked down and saw Alex was once more biting his lip. He hadn't seen that habit in months and it never boded well.

"Yes Alex?" The boy looked afraid. What question could be so terrifying that he was frightened to even ask it?

"Are you real? Sarah said you're not. She says I made you up." When the words finally came, Caleb realized he should have anticipated them. Of course his argument with the bratty child was upsetting him. Caleb had to consider his answer carefully.

He didn't want to tell Alex he was a ghost. Maybe one day the boy would figure it out on his own, but hopefully by then Alex would be so accustomed to Caleb it wouldn't have much of an impact.

"I am real. I'm just real in a different way than you are. But that's not always a bad thing." Caleb looked around for something to cheer Alex up. His eyes alighted on a portable radio. At present it's owner seemed to be asleep on a blanket. Not very intelligent of them really. They were practically asking for their device to be stolen. Really what he was about to do was a benevolent gesture.

"If I were like you I could do this?" He pointed at the radio and the power moved to the "On" position.

"-And it's magic if the music is groovy," The napper jerked awake and stared at the radio in confusion.

"It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie." Caleb recognized the song. It was one of Alex's favorites. They'd spend an entire afternoon with Alex's parents radio. They'd flipped through stations so Caleb had at least some awareness of what had happened to music in the fifty years he'd been in the dark room. Quite a bit apparently, and in Caleb's view, very little of it good.

"Do You Believe in Magic" had come on and Caleb had decided to add a little spice to the song by demonstrating his developing telekinetic powers to Alex. Alex had been as entranced as Caleb had hoped. As a consequence Alex fairly regularly wheedled Caleb into performing that song over, and over, and over again. It was no surprise when Alex spun to face him, all sad thoughts forgotten.

"Caleb, will you sing?!" Caleb did not know whether to chuckle or groan.

"I don't know Alex. You know it's not really my type of music." This too was part of the routine. Caleb, hemming and hawwing...

"Pleeaassse? You sing it so nice!" Alex begging and flattering...

"Alright, but only if you're my band." And then Caleb finally giving in. "Are we agreed?" Alex nodded eagerly. He held out his sand bucket with one hand and his shovel with the other in a ready position.

Caleb started snapping his fingers in time with the song. Alex obediently started tapping the rhythm in his bucket. When Caleb was sure Alex had the beat he transported himself to the top of the play structure's tower. Caleb sang down as Alex beamed up at him from the ground.

"I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul, But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout a rock 'n' roll."

Caleb swayed with the music, noticing something odd as he did. He would swear that people were looking at him.

"If you believe in magic don't bother to choose, if it's jug band music or rhythm and blues. Just go and listen it'll start with a smile, that won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try."

They were still looking. A hope bloomed in Caleb's chest. He shouldn't indulge in it. He knew it was impossible and yet….

Caleb spotted a table about twenty feet away with some parents sitting at it. He instantaneously transported himself on top of it. Once Caleb appeared, there was no doubt in his mind that their eyes were locked on him. He soaked up their amazement like they were water and he a sponge. His eyes returned to Alex who faithfully kept tapping on his bucket from a few yards away.

"Your feet start tapping, and you can't seem to find, how you got there, so just blow your mind. If you believe in magic come along with me-"

He jerked his head at Alex to follow him. Disappearing once more, he re-materialized on an empty seesaw. He danced from the low end to the high end as he sang, aware a crowd was slowly converging on him.

It was incredible! The closest he'd ever gotten to the feeling was when he'd consumed five cups of coffee in the course of one hour. His entire being was buzzing.

"We'll dance until morning till there's just you and me. And maybe if the music is right, I'll meet you tomorrow sorta late at night, and we'll go dancing baby, then you'll see how the magic's in the music, and the music's in me." Caleb hopped off the seesaw and with a wave of his hand started it rocking up and down to the music.

"Yeah, do you believe in magic?" He pointed at an empty swing and with a twirled of his finger wound the chains and then released them to spin out. His audience clapped in admiration.

They were crowding him too tightly. He needed space if he didn't want to be revealed as noncorporeal. Caleb vanished and reappeared back in his original perch.

"Yeah, believe in the magic of the young girl's soul,"

The crowd sighted him and followed him like rats behind the Piper Pied of Hamelin.

"Believe in the magic of a rock 'n' roll, believe-"

Suddenly a collective gasp went up and people began buzzing, despite the fact Caleb was still singing.

"-in the magic that can set you free. Ahh, talking 'bout the magic."

"Where did he go? I hear him, but I don't see him!" Caleb waved his hands but no one took notice.

"Do you believe in magic?" He'd gone invisible again. Why? And where was Alex? He scanned the crowd. He'd gotten so caught up in the attention he'd completely lost sight of him. Suddenly he sighted the back of the boy's head. His mother had him at the edge of the grass, dragging him away from Caleb towards their car.

"Did you see that?! That was incredible!"

What possibly could be upsetting the woman? She couldn't have a problem with magicians. She'd hired one for her son's party last year. He'd have to speak with Alex about it later.

"Do you believe, believer?" It seemed at least one mystery was solved. The temporary visibility was connected to Alex. When he got pulled away by his mother, Caleb became invisible again. Interestingly though, he could be heard on his own. It hadn't worked that way with speaking, but singing apparently was another story.

"How did he do that? Mirrors and a speaker?"

"Do you believe in magic?" He'd never been heard rehearsing in the hotel, but that was inside an abandoned building. If Caleb moved his performance outdoors, then he could sing for living audiences again.

"In a park? Unlikely? Do you think we were all hypnotized?"

"Do you believe in magic?" Would it work for his band as well? He wasn't sure how he felt about singing with no accompaniment whatsoever.

"Why do you think he was here? Do you think he's drumming up business for kid's parties?" Caleb had been half-listening to the comments of his audience, but that last sentence got his full attention. He was about to show the man a taste of his "children's party" magic when his companion gave a disbelieving snort.

"A man that talented is not playing children's parties. Mark my words, in a few days we'll hear about him playing a theatre downtown. This was probably a publicity stunt." Caleb smirked to himself. That was more like it. Theatres. Sold out crowds. The adoration of millions. That his reality in life and that was his destiny in death. He'd make sure of it.

[dreamerinsilico]

Thanks to The Good Place s4 having made its way to Netflix, and me having Feelings, I’m going to take a bit to publicly chew on them now. 

TL;DR: same as basically every take I’ve seen, it was a great finale that handled each of the characters in a way that made sense and also I cried through most of the last episode.  But also I have vaguely cranky philosophical ruminations about it that don’t make me appreciate the show any less, but definitely want to yap about it.

(Details under the cut, because spoilers and also this may get long.  Also apparently it’s going to involve some spoilers for The Old Guard.  And maybe a few minor NBC Hannibal references.)

So, first I want to reiterate: the way the show ended, given everything else the show had done, made sense and was emotionally satisfying to me.  I loved it.

In a bigger-picture sense, though... I’d really like to see more media that interfaces with the concept of immortality without concluding that death is the only way to give the human (or humanoid) existence meaning.  Where we end up in the finale of The Good Place makes sense, in that it’s already been established that there’s an afterlife that doesn’t really have any inherent meaning beyond individual souls’ experiences of it and their relationships with one another.  And it’s not hard to imagine that a lot of the small dramas and conflicts that provide variation to even very peaceful lives would be invalidated without any kind of pressure from those material needs.  Given the foundations of the show, Our Heroes’ decision about how to change The Good Place for the better is... the only reasonable conclusion.  

And, you know, I don’t blame the show for not being The piece of media I’m hoping for to just come out and say outright, “you know, actually fuck this whole death thing.  Not a fan.  Don’t need it.  Let’s get rid of it.”  That’s not what this show was ever even remotely trying to be about.  It’s about coping with the reality of the human experience in the 20th/21st century, which includes death.  (Even with my transhumanist leanings, as a bioengineer and also someone who ardently pays attention to other fields, I will not even hint at denying that this is going to be a mandatory part of our reality for quite a while yet.)

The conclusion the show draws that I very much do agree with (regardless of one’s stance on death) is that we require some form of tension to inject meaning.  When I picture myself in the Final Form of the Good Place, I think most of my energy and desire would be focused on (I guess like a combo of Chidi and Tahani) asking questions of people there, and making peace with relationships that had somehow been left hanging.  There’s a finite amount of each of those.  I’d run out eventually.  My scientific passion would have a hard time finding an outlet, because the laws of physics don’t apply and I can’t interface with living people who could still make use of my expertise and stubborn propensity to problem-solve.  I’d like to think my creative leanings would still matter, but I’m not positive to what degree they would in that environment.  (It’s worth a chuckle to me now that when they offhandedly noted that Shakespeare’s thousands of posthumous plays weren’t anywhere near as good as the ones he wrote on Earth, I was initially indignant.  But with further thought it makes sense that the longer one is removed from that tension I referenced previously, the harder it would be to make meaningful art.  Or to even have that art be appreciated by the audience, since, on the audience side, successful art plucks against the tension of the strings the audience itself carries.  And when your audience is restricted to people in paradise who have already at-least-mostly self-actualized....)

Something about the finale that I’m still chewing over how I feel about was the very last scene.  The implication of some form of reincarnation.  (If that wasn’t supposed to be the takeaway from that... well, please tell me, but I *think* I remember some kind of rewards card reference with Eleanor and Michael from an earlier season?)  The incurable romantic part of me appreciates the concept of reincarnation on principle, so that’s one thing.  It’s also entirely in keeping with Chidi’s metaphor about a wave returning to the ocean - that wave is gone; it’ll never be there again, but the stuff of it is still there and ready to take form again.  But the part of me that very much sympathizes with Simone and, while not being a neurologist, is very concerned with Theory of Mind... reincarnation doesn’t do much for that part.  If I die, and my metaphysical essence eventually shows up in a different human who has no connection via memory to their past lives... well, that’s very aesthetically pleasing, I guess, but the point to me is, the information was still lost.  When I died, my subjective experiences, memories, and capacity to act upon the world as Dae the Irascible Multi-Academic was lost, because my reincarnation doesn’t have access to that (much as I did not have access to my previous selves’s experiences).  

Anyway, speaking of incurable romantics, let’s talk about The Old Guard!  When I was previously starting to complain about no media that interacts with immortality as a concept avoiding the canard of “death gives life meaning,” I stopped myself.  Because you know what, The Old Guard didn’t fucking go there, and I’m proud of everyone who worked on it for that.  Booker thinks death is the answer because he has lost hope.  But the person he appeals to, the person he thinks he’s doing a favor, is Andy.  Who has lived millennia more than he has, lost the implied-love-of-her-life, and still has the will to keep going.  Her questioning of that is intrinsic to the storyline, but at NO POINT does she ever indicate she wants to die.  And Nile’s appearance reinvigorates her, even as she knows she now actually has an expiration date.  (And the expiration date is not what invigorates her.  It is Nile and the attendant situation reminding her of why they do what they do.)  I ultimately really like The Old Guard’s take on immortality, because it gives us a spectrum of reactions to it.  Nile, generally freaked-out and not happy about any of this but trying to do best by the people she loves.  Booker, jaded and wanting to end it all.  Andy, pretty jaded but when push comes to shove wants to keep fucking trying, and doesn’t just step back and abdicate responsibility when it’s clear she isn’t going to be around much longer.  Joe and Nicky, not necessarily always happy with their circumstances, but taking strength from their relationships, not just with each other, but with the group as a whole.  (I have a whole essay brewing, which may or may not eventually see the light, about their romantic connection being important but kind of only a part of their overall attitude about the group and how that is intensely important.) 

And because apparently I’m just going to keep tacking on essay-stubs to this one post, when I thought about how to start this, I also thought about how Hannibal Lecter (in NBC Hannibal) says, “The thought that my life could end at any moment frees me to fully appreciate the beauty and art and horror of everything this world has to offer.”  And I’m just kind of marinating in that (hah) for the moment because it represents a hedonism that The Good Place, in aggregate, rejects.  But you can’t really compare those two stances, because of course, Hannibal Lecter is a human, subject to human standards of beauty and horror.  I shouldn’t go off on a big tangent about this here, because the point of NBC Hannibal is emphatically not about immortality or mortality, but I felt it worth mentioning because a) hyperfixation and b) it’s an interesting thread in the wider discussion I’m interested in, that I like placing in context.

Anyway if you’ve bothered to read all of this, thank you profusely.  I have a lot of feelings about The Good Place which mostly boil down to “I loved it,” but I can’t help but poke at the whole death thing.  That’s kind of a sore spot for me in media.

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Happy Birthday to Me Pt. 5

And so my kingdom rejoiced, led in their jubilation by their handsome, kind,  and most humble king. 

There was a bit of dissension in the masses however when I rightfully proclaimed Lan Zhan, bringer of booze, to be the best. Because he was. 

“And what are we?” cried the malcontent, “He’s not the only one who paid for those.”

Jiang Cheng then thwapped me on the shoulder to punctuate his point. Not one to take a declaration of war lying down, I thwapped him right back. But before a true battle could commence, we were put in our place by the High Queen Shijie. She told us to set a better example for our niece and nephew and we were properly contrite. 

It would take more than a sound scolding to keep the smile off my face though. Especially with little A-Ling eyeing my shiny crown from his place on his father’s lap.  It was quite fun to watch his willpower slowly fading as his desire finally won out. 

He slid off of his father’s lap with a look of careful concentration very reminiscent of when he had been carrying the bunny earlier, and toddled over to me. 

“I wan be keng!” he burbled, making grabby hands at my crown after he managed to clamber onto my lap instead.

“What?” I gasped dramatically. “Why that simply can’t be allowed! Why if anyone who wanted could be king then everyone would be king! I’m afraid you’d have to fight me for it!”

Ooooh that little boy knows how to work a crowd. He stuck out his lower lip with just the perfect level of tremble. His eyes went wide and glistened with moisture. 

Soon a quiet but persistent whine started to emanate from the small child. 

The peacock looked hilariously resigned. Clearly this tactic was used quite often and I’m guessing with quite a lot of success.

Not being made of stone, I crumbled before him. Removing my plastic crown, I bowed humbly before the usurper and offered him his prize. 

“You have defeated me! I shall abdicate my kingdom to you. Hail to the new king! May he rule his subjects fairly!” I said with an appropriately warbling voice. 

Shijie watched this with an amused smile never leaving her lips. The transaction complete, she told her new king that he still needed to finish eating his food if he wanted to be a strong ruler. 

The crown sunk past his eyes when he nodded at her in agreement, but he looked more than satisfied. His goal having been accomplished he didn’t hesitate to further his betrayal by abandoning me again in favor of his golden father, who for his part looked entirely too proud of his little boy. 

I looked over the remains of my fallen kingdom to find that no one seemed to much care about the change in dynasty.  They were all too busy chattering to each other to pay me much mind. I started to pout a bit before something interesting perked my ear. Nie Huaisang voice drifted my way, positively calling for my attention with that conspiratorial tone that always promised a juicy bit of gossip. He was talking to MianMian, Gamby, and Qin Su who all seemed equally captivated.

Apparently Lan Zhan had IMPRESSIVELY long hair in his youth. Long and shiny. 

“Never got caught or a single split end! I swear! Gift from the GODS that hair!” he claimed. 

“Really? What made him cut it?” Gamby asked with mirth glittering in her lined eyes. 

“Some dickwad got gum caught in it so he just hocked it all off.”

The girls looked rightfully aghast at that information! How could you do that????? There’s ways to remove gum without a sword! What a shame!

I couldn’t complain too much though because it did seem that Lan Zhan was growing it out again. Certainly it had gotten much longer in recent months and with how meticulous Lan Zhan is in every part of his life I doubt he would let this slide were it not completely intentional. 

After it was clear that his audience was hooked, Nie Huaisang’s expression turned positively devious. 

“But I never told you about the valiant Lan Wangji’s heroic conquest over the vile beasts that once threatened to claim this humble one’s very life!”

“Huaisang…” Lan Zhan growled in warning. 

This only made SangSang’s shit eating grin grow wider and his audience to listen with even more rapt attention. 

“Oh how frightful!” Qin Su said, playing along dutifully. 

“What kind of beast?” MianMian asked, pretending to be playfully amazed. 

“Why it was a terrifying…”

“Huaisang.” Lan Zhan said, sounding even more dangerous now. 

“Ferocious!” SangSang said with ever increasing drama.

“Don’t you--”

“Porcupine!”

His audience gasped accordingly before we dissolved into giggles. 

Now in Lan Zhan’s defense they were both young and porcupines actually ARE pretty terrifying in person even if they’re rather adorable. Spiky butts aren’t exactly the best for cuddling. 

Apparently Nie Huaisang, in one of his rare steps into boldly daring to imitate his brother, had tried to pet a group of porcupines. When Lan Zhan stepped in to save him from his spiny doom, they decided that HE was the true enemy and chased him all around. 

So now porcupines are to Lan Zhan what dogs are to me. Absolutely no judgement here. It’s not even that bad of a story, but Nie Huaisang apparently loves to tell it because for some reason Lan Zhan is REALLY embarrassed by it. 

To help him save some face while everyone giggled at his frankly adorably mortified reactions, I decided to speak up. 

“So basically you were an idiot who wanted to try to pet a wild animal that would absolutely kick your ass and Lan Zhan got the short stick after very bravely saving your sorry hide?”

“Yup. Pretty much,” SangSang agreed with absolutely no shame. 

I rolled my eyes at him, but then turned to Lan Zhan who seemed not to be listening anymore. I chuckled a little at him for being silly and tried to pat his arm a bit to comfort him. He looked up at me and I managed to coax a little smile out of him in the end. Poor guy. 

It’s much more reasonable to be afraid of porcupines than of a chihuahua. 

And you’re much less likely to be faced with a porcupine in daily life. EVERYONE fucking has a dog. Uugh. Crazy ass people. 

After that there was a lot of eating and chattering and cheers to my health which caused more than one cheek to color a rosy red. I was starting to feel the edges of a buzz myself, though since I wasn’t drinking on an empty stomach and downing three bottles all at once I was doing much better with my liquor than when I’d accidentally got wasted in Lan Zhan’s apartment.

Ugh. How mortifying. 

Please don’t judge me for that time. I normally can drink forever without a problem. It was a fluke!