#if she hasn’t noticed the pattern of her disagreeing with me and then realizing I’m RIGHT
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
im upset asf and idrk how to deal with it 🥲 idk how people refuse to see the genocide and when it’s my own mother it really just hurts my soul even more bc we literally cannot talk about it bc it just turns into an argument. It’s so defeating but she’s gonna see. she’s gonna fuckin realize it and I wish she would just realize it right fucking now and WAKE UP.
so my aunt is from Iran, she married my uncle but even before they were married this woman was always my aunt I love her sm. We all do, don’t worry this isn’t like about her really, this is just details to make things make sense. my aunts mom *who I also love so much, I get to see her in a couple months I’m excited* was planning on going to Iran bc she’s trying to sell her property so she can officially move to America I think. Well… omfg. so my mom brings it up, which I wasn’t surprised bc when I saw about how Iran is speaking of bombing Iran and then Biden was like “don’t you bomb the genociders rn or else” like we’re not fucking next on the gd list for being apart of this genocide, but anyways so I heard about that and I was worried about my aunts mom cause I knew she was trying to go back home. my moms basically agreeing with Joe Biden and I can’t anymore. I cannot even listen to her for a second bc it makes me wanna bawl my eyes out. then I tried to say how I felt and she’s just lookin at me like I’m some fucking dumbass and I just can’t deal with it.
#she thinks she’s so smart#and that she knows so much more than me bc she’s older than me#if she hasn’t noticed the pattern of her disagreeing with me and then realizing I’m RIGHT#when things get WORSE#it’s fucking upsetting#the one time I desperately need her to hear me and believe me right here right now#she won’t do it#she won’t fucking listen and it makes me resent her lowkey#I wanted to literally just leave forever#but that’s obviously irrational so I didn’t#but holy fuck#im sick#what a fucking gd sheeple#she doesn’t think she is but rn that’s exactly wtf she sounds like#a f’d sheeple who just believes the people who are lying and bsing us#I hate it
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Annual Halloween 🎃 imagine: Day 4
Waiting too go too the Halloween feast with Severus but he doesn’t show up. And Remus ends up finding you.
🎃🎃🎃🎃
Damn that Severus Snape!
You spent over a hour waiting on Severus and Lily. Originally Severus was sitting beside you at your friends spot near the lake. Under a shady tree. You and Severus spent an hour reading.. well you read. Severus kept looking up every 3 minutes searching for Lily. Who was Late Again! You figured instantly she probably got tied up with James somewhere. She was all Gaga for James potter lately and it was driving Severus crazy. Which drove you crazy that he was getting jealous of James potter and not realizing you. Right there!
An hour late and Severus finally got annoyed enough at Lily that he went off too Find her. Leaving you behind. You offered too go with him but he promised he wouldn’t be long.. that was two hours ago. After 20 minutes you realized Once again Severus was Gone. He wasn’t coming back. You spent too many hours being sad about the new annoying pattern in your group of three. Lilly would hang out with you both but then soon got too busy with James and other sneaked off, or just didn’t show up. Then Severus would other be cranky and a huge grump the rest of the day or he would go off too Find Lily . Which left you alone.
You had other friends of course. But after Severus behaviour otheryou weren’t in a good enough mood too go off too hang with other friends. Most of the time you did go off and hang with other friends. But today. You were chapters finishing your book and you were rather comfy. Leaning against the tree wearing your thick jacket, gloves on your hands. You decided too read as much as possible before the Halloween Feast later. Before you knew it. It was dark out. You were using your wand too read the book.
“y/n?”
Lifting your head up seeing Remus he was walking around he’s hands in his jacket as he wore his thick griffindor scarf, the warm fall Sun was gone It was freezing as you realizing how stiff and sore your body was. Espically Cold.
“Oh hey Remus.”
“Merlin Beard what you doing out here/ why aren’t you at the Feast?”
You slowly shifted up too your feet as you rubbed your neck, “I was reading- I guess I got caught up.” He chuckled stepping over reading the title. “Pride and prejudice? This is a muggle book.” You smiled as you closed the book as you looked up at Remus him being a Griffindor and you a hufflepuff you didn’t have much contact but you were the same grade. And he was best friends with James potter. And out of the four of them. He seemed the nicest.
“Yea- my dad.. he owns a muggle Book store. He sends me a classic a month too make sure I keep up with my muggle fictional studies. Mom’s a writer. It’s- very important too them I read the classics.”
“How is it?”
“perfection might be the right word- what time is it?”
“Late -the Feast is half over. You look frozen. Let’s go inside.. here!’ He reached up taking his scarf from his neck wrapping it around your neck as he spoke, “where is Severus?”
You smiled touching the warm scarf as you smiled looking up at Remus he was a inch taller then you as you shook your head, “last I saw he was searching for Lilly.”
“she’s with James- what time did Severus leave you alone?”
“I was less then half way Thur the book.. so a few hours.. I’m a slow reader..”
“that jackass.”
You didn’t disagree you figured he would come back. And be a grump but he didn’t. Getting into the great hall everyone was cheering and laughing feeling the heat you instantly realized how frozen you were. Remus lead you too his table as you sat down as he got you a butterbeer and took his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. As he sat down looking at you. “Why didn’t you come inside sooner?”
“the book was soo good- I didn’t realize.. it’s I’m fine really!”
He reached over fixing his jacket too make sure it stayed on you as he shook his head, “your cold too the touch Y/n. You shouldn’t be alone so close too the forbidden forest.”
“I’m not a idiot Remus I had my wand.” He sighed heavily sitting down pinching his nose as you reached over grabbing some chocolate you turned too him giving him some as you spoke, ‘everything is better with a bit of chocolate it helps.’ He smiled weakly as you took some of your drink.
“you deserve better you know.”
That caught you off guard as you looked back at Remus it’s been a few minutes of you just sitting quietly eating everyone was giving you both distant as he ate as he spoke up. It startled you as you smiled, “what you mean?”
“Severus- you deserve better than that!”
“I’m not dating Severus- he’s took mixed up with Lily too notice anyone else but her.”
“I know- I watch you – watch him. While he watches Lily.”
Feeling your heart tense up he spoke up, “what’s your book about?”
Severus noticed you across the great hall bundled up you were off a bit from everyone as Remus was sitting close too you as you both ate and asked about something. Severus spent most of the feast looking over at Lily as she talked too James. And Sirius and Peter. He didn’t notice you until you laughed. It was loud as you covered your mouth quick as Remus laughed at your outburst as you both laughed. What is she doing? Severus thought he got up fast. Seeing you bundled up as he stormed over too you. Remus noticed him first as he spoke, “Oh Serveus hey.”
You turned seeing your best friend. Severus was stunned seeing you wearing two coats, wearing your fingerless gloves and a griffindor scarf. The scarf surprised him. It was a tradition for other houses too exchange scarfs with another person If they were courting so seeing you wearing Remus scarf he boiled up angry, “what is this?”
You finished your piece of roast beef that wa sin your mouth before you answered.
“Nothing were having dinner.”
Remus noticed Severus was staring at his scarf as he tried too calm the situation with the truth. “I found Y/N by the lake shivering like the whomping willow. She’s frozen- I offered my gear too warm up.”
Severus’s eyes narrowed at you as you nodded your head, “it’s true- I was waiting for you acturally..”
You were going too let it go- because you were so focused on your book that you barely noticed. But seeing Severus storming over here and being A Jerk for No reason. You decided too Not let him off the hook.
Severus stepped back stunned as he realized he promised too come back. He just stormed off and decided too study after seeing Lily was wrapped around James. He completely forgot about you. You looked at Severus. It was like a twig snapping. Looking up at Severus seeing him standin there. Your enchantment for him. Your crush. Was gone. He ruined it. He had so many chances too be with you and he just kept messing up. So you stood up holding Remus jacket tightly too yourself your body was still frozen the sip of buttterbeer hasn’t warmed you up yet.
“Remus is being kind and Great! What is your problem!”
“Y/N… I’m sorry I-“
“forgot about me again- you know what IM not okay with being forgotten or ingored! I deserve better Severus- No I demand Better because I’m a damn good friend!”
“I’m- I’m so sorry.. lets just eat dinner okay and- give back Remus scarf.” You looked down seeing the scarf the only warm thing on you was your neck. It clicked why he kept staring down at you. He was annoyed Remus lent you his scarf. You rolled your eyes. Boys are Idiots! You turned too Remus as you spoke, ‘thank you for coming for me and bringing me inside Remus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded his head as you gave him over his jacket and his scarf. You grabbed your drink getting up as he spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow- Hey Y/N?”
“Yea?”
“Can I give this back too you soon?” You smiled brightly hearing that your cheeks blushed a deep Red Severus grabbed your arms pulling you away as you quickly pushed away from Severus, “I would love that. Do you want too study tomorrow?” He smiled nodding his head as you smiled saying great.
Severus tried pulling you away too go over too his table but you pushed away from h I’m. “I’m Going someplace you cant follow Severus!”
“where?”
“too my house! You’re a Massive Jerk- and Lil is over there!”
Storming off you wanted too be mad at Severus but your thoughts were only on Remus.
#fandom imagine#imagine#remus lupin#young remus imagine#halloween imagine#annual halloween imagine#harry potter#harry potter imagine#remus lupin imagine
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anakin Skywalker + Sleep Deprivation
Following this conversation about the effects sleep deprivation had on Anakin, I decided to put together a list of quotes about Anakin and his sleep patterns. Please, feel free to add more if want :)
“Waiting? For me?” Anakin frowned. Worries and lack of sleep had his head full of fog; he couldn’t make this make sense. He patted his robes vacantly. “But—my beacon hasn’t gone off. If the Council wanted me, why didn’t they—” [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]
How many days ago had that been? He couldn’t remember. Not many. When you don’t sleep, days smear together into a haze of fatigue so deep it becomes a physical pain. The Force could keep him upright, keep him moving, keep him thinking, but it could not give him rest. Not that he wanted rest. Rest might bring sleep. What sleep might bring, he could not bear to know. [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]
“I—no. No, I’m all right.” Anakin sank gratefully into a dangerously comfortable chair. “I’m just—a little tired, that’s all.” “Not sleeping well?” “No.” Anakin offered an exhausted chuckle. “I haven’t been sleeping well for a few years, now.” [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]
“You look tired,” Obi-Wan said to Anakin in the adjoining room. The Padawan, still standing, opened his eyes and came out of his meditative trance. He took a moment to register the words, and then gave a little shrug, not disagreeing. “I don’t sleep well anymore.” That was hardly news to Obi-Wan. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]
She looked over at Anakin, who was sleeping somewhat restlessly. She could see him now, not as a Jedi Padawan and her protector, but just as a young man. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]
A brief cloud passed over his face as he thought of his mother on Tatooine, and considered the disturbing dreams that had been finding their way into his sleep of late. He pushed the thoughts away quickly and glanced around, glad that no one seemed to have noticed. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]
“No!” came a cry from the adjoining bedroom, where Anakin was sleeping. “No! Mom! No, don’t!” Padmé slipped out of bed and ran to the door, not even bothering to grab a robe, not even caring or noticing that she was wearing a revealing silken shift. At the door, she paused and listened. Hearing cries from within, followed by more jumbled yelling, she realized that there was no immediate danger, that this was another of Anakin’s nightmares, like the one that had gripped him on the shuttle ride to Naboo. She opened the door and looked in on him. He was thrashing about on the bed, yelling “Mom!” repeatedly. Unsure, Padmé started in. But then Anakin calmed and rolled back over, the dream, the vision, apparently past. Then Padmé did become aware of her revealing dress. She moved back through the door, shutting it gently, then waited for a long while. When she heard no further screaming or tossing, she went back to her bed. [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]
No matter how much he craved sleep, it was elusive. Anakin lay awake long after others around him were breathing quietly, huddled under thin blankets, some pressed close to one another for warmth. [Jude Watson. Path to Truth]
Midnight approached. Anakin Skywalker, unable to sleep, had slipped out of his bed and gone down into the backyard to complete a final check of the racer, of its controls, its wiring, its relays, its power source—everything he could think of. [Terry Brooks. The Phantom Menace]
Anakin in particular could not get the Jedi Luminara’s presentation out of his head. It kept him preoccupied as he prepared for sleep and awake well into the morning hours.[Alan Dean Foster. The Approaching Storm]
The incessant rasp of his breathing interfered with his ability to rest, let alone sleep. And sleep, in the rare moments it came to him, was a nightmarish jumble of twisted, recurrent memories that unfolded to excruciating sounds. [James Luceno. Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader]
Most of Vader’s Anakin memories grew fainter by the day, but not Anakin’s memories of what had happened here. They were as fresh as this morning’s sunrise, glimpsed from the rooftop chamber in which Vader rested. True sleep continued to lie just out of reach, an object pursued in vain in an unsettling dream. He no longer had visions, either. That ability, that double-edged ability, seemingly had been burned out of him on Mustafar. [James Luceno. Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader]
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kaeluc + Chongyun, Venti
This was something I worked on for the play diary fic I have on AO3 during the Geovishap event but I didn’t finish it, and I don’t really think I will. It seems to be heading down the path of an action fic and action scenes are already not my forté so I’m not sure if I want to expend the time and energy on something that’s supposed to be a low effort kind of deal. I still did work on it for quite some time so here is what I have:
When Lumine asked Chongyun if he would be willing to go investigate certain areas of Liyue for traces of Geovishaps, he said yes in a heartbeat. Even if he hadn't been requested by Lumine, he probably would have taken it upon himself to seek out and exterminate the monsters. Or been dragged by Xingqiu on Xingqiu's own self-imposed quest of chivalry.
The Geovishaps are a dangerous menace to the populace and already, Bubu Pharmacy's swamped with people who have been injured by them. According to Xiangling, anyway, who heard secondhand from Hu Tao.
"I'll ask some of my friends from Mondstadt to go with you," Lumine had said.
"Mondstadt?" Chongyun had echoed. "Wouldn't it be better to ask people from Liyue, since we know the geography more?"
"Well, yeah, but a lot of the people who are suited to explore the area are busy with their own investigations," Paimon had explained. "So we had to ask people from Mondstadt to fill in."
"I see," Chongyun had said, nodding to himself.
The Geovishaps' territory seems to encompass Liyue's entirety, which is already a large country for a small handful of elites to cover. It makes sense to ask for aid from foreigners, and it's even better if they're acting out of a sense of friendship, rather than trying to force Liyue into any kind of political debt.
"I'll be sure to buy them some food from Wanmin Restaurant after everything is done," Chongyun had promised, raising his heavy Mora bag and jangling it about.
Paimon and Lumine had given him a thumbs-up before Chongyun headed out to the outskirts of Liyue Harbour. It would be a simple mission, he had thought at the time.
It doesn't take him long to find the helpers from Mondstadt. They stand out like sore thumbs.
A red-haired man in dark clothing is standing on the bridge, leaning against the wooden railing. His gaze is focused on the dog circling around his feet, its tail wagging so hard Chongyun can practically hear it whirling from the other end of the bridge. Next to the red-haired man is a short boy — probably around Xingqiu's height? — wearing green and white. He is drinking out of a white gourd in his hand and Chongyun races forward when he realizes what it was.
"Wait, wait!"
The red-haired man looks up and pushes himself away from the railing. "Chongyun?" he asks. He pronounces Chongyun's name a little strange — he places too much emphasis on the 'yun' — but Chongyun nods quickly. "My name is Diluc Ragnvindr. I was asked by Lumine to help you in —"
"Ah, wait, hold on," Chongyun says nervously, raising up a hand in apology. "I'm really sorry for interrupting, Mister Diluc. It's just that your friend is drinking cooking wine."
"Oh," Diluc says.
The boy in green pulls the gourd away with a loud exhale. Chongyun winces at the alcoholic stench that assaults his nose and he covers his face with his sleeve. The boy's face is red and his eyes are unfocused, swaying unsteadily on the spot.
"That's the stuff!" the boy says, sounding remarkably articulate. "Oh, hello! I'm Venti! This is Diluc! We're here to help!"
"Please, you don't have to yell. I'm standing right here," Chongyun says.
"I already told him why we're here," Diluc says.
Venti's only answer is a loud laugh and Chongyun is struck with a sense of déjà vu. He is pretty sure he had to go through the exact same song and dance from Diluc's position just the other day.
It seems that Venti and Xingqiu have more in common than just their height. At the very least, Xingqiu has no interest in alcohol.
"We're just waiting for the last person in our expedition to arrive," Diluc explains. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an expensive-looking pocketwatch. Venti tries to reach out for it and Diluc simply raises it out of his reach. It's like watching someone deal with a particularly mischievous cat. "She's not someone who's normally late."
"Maybe she got distracted by some sticky honey roast on the way."
Diluc pulls a face but he doesn't deny the possibility.
Chongyun stretches to try and peer into the pocketwatch and Diluc lowers it down so that Chongyun can easily see the time. The two of them ignore Venti's loud pout at the blatant favouritism. It's just a little past noon, when more people would be out and about on their way to and from lunch. It would be disastrous if a Geovishap is to show up at this hour.
"Should we maybe just go ahead and leave a note?" Chongyun asks.
"Maybe," Diluc says. He clicks the pocketwatch shut and places it back into his pocket, staring up at the sky. "We can wait another fifteen minutes and then we'll leave."
"Sounds good to me!" Venti says, raising his hand up in the air.
Chongyun imitates him but Diluc doesn't even look at them. He lowers his hand shyly.
"There's no need for that," an unfamiliar voice drawls out and the three of them turn as one to see a dark-skinned man dressed in furs and leather stroll up to them.
He stands out in the most ridiculous fashion, not only with his natural looks but also with the way his clothes practically cling to the lines of his lithe body. Chongyun instinctively takes a small step back, and yet another one when he feels hot anger rise off of Diluc. If he hadn't noticed the Vision hanging off of his waist earlier, he would know for sure now that he's dealing with a Pyro user.
"Kaeya," Diluc growls. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh boy," Venti says. He reaches into his cape and pulls out from out of nowhere yet another gourd. How he managed to keep such a large bottle hidden away, Chongyun has no idea. Venti notices Chongyun's stare and tips the cooking wine at him. "You want a sip?"
"Ah, no..."
"Your loss."
"Amber was called away on an Outrider mission," Kaeya says. He spreads his arms out theatrically and shakes his head. "And so kind old me decided to lend her a hand. As her superior, of course. "
For a while, Diluc doesn't say anything, giving Kaeya such a murderous look that it's surprising he hasn't been incinerated to a crisp yet. When Diluc finally speaks, his voice is measured and low. He's obviously putting in a great effort to sound as cordial as he can.
"If it's just a Geovishap or two, the three of us are more than enough to defeat them. You could expend your energy on patrolling the site the monster was last spotted, in case civilians accidentally wander into the area."
Kaeya nods. "That's wise. There certainly is a lot of people milling about."
He does not openly agree or disagree with Diluc's suggestion and Diluc shifts his weight.
"So can we trust you to handle securing the area."
It's worded like a question but Diluc's flat tone implies that he meant it as a command.
"Oh. Don't worry about that," Kaeya says, waving his hand in a clear sign of dismissal. He ignores Diluc's irritated tsk. "There's nothing I can do about accidentally getting people involved if you're there with that Vision of yours. So I might as well focus on backing you up on the field."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean that you —"
"Okay, wow!" Venti interrupts and both Diluc and Chongyun startle.
Kaeya was so distracting that Chongyun didn't even remember there was a third party with them. Or, he supposes, he technically is a part of said third party. But if Venti is willing to be the peacemaker then Chongyun has his back. He has no idea what's going on between Kaeya and Diluc but if Venti has no qualms about sacrificing himself for the sake of the greater good, the least Chongyun can do is make sure his death isn't in vain.
"Isn't there anything a little sweeter to drink? This wine is getting a bit too spicy for me."
Chongyun's newfound respect for Venti crumbles.
Kaeya laughs and he gives Venti an overly friendly pat on the shoulder. "Well, that's cooking wine so you're not really supposed to be drinking that. There's a lovely restaurant that offers violetgrass liqeur, and it's considered a bit of a local delicacy around these parts."
"Go on, go on!" Venti exclaims, his eyes shimmering like stars as he stares up at Kaeya like a lovestruck maiden. "What does it taste like?"
"Hm, I've never had it myself, but I hear that it's sweet and floral, like you're sucking honey directly out from a flower. If you hold it up to the light, the colours swirl in the most beautiful patterns, like you've trapped the night sky in your glass."
"It sounds amazing," Venti says dreamily. "I would very much like to try it before I go back to Mondstadt. Let's hurry and get rid of the Geovishap so we can go to the restaurant."
"Oh, I can't really drink," Chongyun says, raising his hand. "I'll still go though."
"More for me!" Venti says.
"They offer a virgin violetgrass cocktail that's sweetened with mist flower nectar and mint for anyone who can't handle their drink," Kaeya says, giving Diluc a bright smile.
Diluc crosses his arms and taps his fingers against his elbow like an annoyed cat flicking its tail. He doesn't reply but Chongyun nods to himself. So Diluc also can't drink alcohol. A small sense of kinship wells up in him at the thought. Finally, some common ground with at least one member of this enigmatic band.
"We're wasting time," Diluc sighs. He seems to have given up on trying to chase Kaeya away for now. "Let's go."
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
4x04 | Revival of the Fittest
Episode Description: Andi works on her first major art project for school. Jonah and Amber help Cyrus with his image. Buffy and Marty‘s competitive nature leads to problems in their relationship.
Based on my Andi Mack Season 4 episode descriptions
Previous Episode
...
The episode opens with Bex and Bowie sitting at the kitchen table. Andi is in the other room on the floor with a ton of random stuff surrounding her. Bex and Bowie are watching her with curiosity as they try to quietly guess what she’s going to make. “A giant butterfly?” Bowie offers, cocking his head. // “Maybe a globe? Or a quilt,” Bex adds. // “Those are two completely different things! How could you guess two opposite things?” // Bex punches him in the shoulder and rolls her eyes. Andi still looks hard at work but stops for a second to smile up at them before going back to her project. Suddenly, Bex gets a weird expression on her face, one that Bowie’s never seen before. He rubs her shoulder. “What’s up?” // “Nothing, I just...” Bex trails off. “I’ve been thinking about something a lot recently. Remember those lists we made before we got married about what we want in the future? I was thinking that maybe I want to do one of them.” // Bowie looks confused at first, but suddenly understanding lights up on his face. “Are you sure...?” // Bex bites her lip. “I think so.” // Before they can discuss it any further, Andi groans in frustration. “This is hopeless!” // Bex laughs, going into the family room to join her. “How about some pizza while you rest your brain?” // They continue talking, voices fading out as we see Bowie watching them for a moment, thinking about something before finally running in to join them.
The next scene shows Andi in a classroom decorated with tons of ceramics, indicating she’s in pottery class. At the board, her teacher begins to describe their first big project of the semester upon which 20 percent of their grade will depend. Andi is super excited and has an amazing idea to do something that will be really over the top and cute and really her. As she starts brainstorming ideas on paper, a girl behind her walks up and asks incredulously, “You really think you’ll be able to do that?”
Andi gets offended because of course she can, and she goes to explain that to the girl until she realizes that this is the girl who she ran into on the first day! She had no idea the girl was even in this class with her. “Oh my god, you’re the person I ran into on my first day! I am so sorry for that, again.” // “Whatever, it’s fine,” the girl shrugs, “but I’d take my advice if I were you.” // Then she stalks away leaving Andi confused.
Later, she asks her friends who she is, and they immediately know who she’s talking about. “That’s Penelope. She’s one of the best artists in this school, like a child prodigy or something.” // Andi begins to feel insecure about her project and doubt her abilities.
Meanwhile, at Grant High, Amber catches up with Jonah and Cyrus as they walk down the hallway before class. “So, decided what clubs to join, yet?” Amber asks Cyrus. // “Ugh, no!” Cyrus groans, “It’s such a hard choice! Whatever I choose will define me for the rest of my high school career. Do I want to be a theatre kid? A debater? A student leader? A jock?” // “A jock?” Jonah asks in confusion. // “Well, joining the chess club, I mean,” Cyrus clarifies. “Chess club is apparently brutal.” // Jonah looks to Amber who nods and says, “It’s true. The last tournament ended with an ambulance being called.” // Cyrus sighs, looking up longingly at all the posters advertising for clubs. “Will you two help me with my image? Help me find out where I belong? I can’t just be known as that kid who loses his shoe all the time anymore! This is high school, it’s the big leagues.” // “Are you sure, Cy-Guy? I think you’re great just the way you are,” Jonah flashes him a smile. Cyrus turns to Amber, who grins. // “I can totally be of assistance. After all, I owe you for the advice. It will be fun! Are you in, Jonah?” // Jonah, not wanting to disagree with his friends, decides to join her in helping Cyrus reinvent himself.
Next, flash to Buffy and Marty who are stretching during gym class and chatting. There are a few others around them, as well, and the teacher blows the whistle for them to start running. Buffy and Marty smile at each other before starting to hurry around the gym in laps like the others. They’re faster than the rest of the class by a long shot, and the gym teacher takes notice, but not of Buffy. He calls Marty over after class, and Buffy hears him telling Marty that there’s a spot open on varsity track that needs to be filled right away, and he was good enough to try out. This leads to Buffy getting jealous that she, who was keeping up with Marty easily, didn’t get called over by the gym teacher. “Why didn’t he ask me to join?” Buffy wonders as they walk out of the gym. “I dunno,” Marty shrugs. “But I’m sure he will! He’ll see how great of a runner you are soon enough.” // Buffy frowns, “But I was right beside you! And I’m just as fast, if not faster...” // This leads to tension between them, and they part ways without speaking another word to each other.
Finally, it’s the weekend, and Buffy is meeting with Cyrus at The Spoon. He comes in with a hesitant Jonah, and her jaw drops because he looks completely different. Instead of his usual collared shirt with patterns, he’s wearing a stylish, form fitting long sleeved shirt and ripped jeans with sneakers. His hair is ruffled and not meticulously gelled back like normal. But the strangest part is the leather jacket he’s wearing with “Badman” on the back. Amber, who is working, comes up to the table with a grin. “So, what do you all think of the new Cyrus?” // Buffy narrows her eyes, “New Cyrus? What happened to the old Cyrus?!” // “It’s high school, B, which means it’s time to reinvent myself. I’m a cool, chill, high school student now,” Cyrus explains, voice low and rumbly. // “It’s like the British accent all over again,” Buffy groans, then points at Amber. “This is all your fault.” // “It’s not my fault!” she protests. “He wanted to change his image, and I helped.” // “But he’s completely different!” // Amber pulls her away before whispering secretively to her, “I know, but this won’t last long, trust me. I did it to help him realize who is really is, and that he doesn’t need to change. He’ll figure it out; I know he will.” // Buffy stares at her in surprise, but doesn’t argue.
The episode ends back at the Mack household. Andi is down in the dumps in her room, and Bex tries to comfort her. “What’s going on?” // “Just something this girl Penelope said to me about my project being too ambitious. Apparently, she’s like the prodigy of SAVA, and I ran into her on the first day of class! It seems like she still hasn’t forgiven me.” // “I know it sounds crazy, but not everyone’s going to like you,” Bex admits. “But I know you, and I know that you’re always kind to everyone no matter what, and if she can’t see the good in you, than that’s her loss.” // Andi sighs, picking at the edge of a worn blanket on her bed. “I suppose.” // “Besides...” Bex trails off. “You can prove her wrong. Show her how brilliant your idea is and how you can pull it off.” // Andi’s face lights up. “You’re right, mom! I need to get to work.” // Bex chuckles, getting of the edge of her bed to let her work. As she leaves, she realizes Bowie was watching the whole time. “You make a good mom, you know,” Bowie says. // Bex looks back at Andi, who’s working already. “We’re so lucky to have her.” // Bowie puts an arm around her with a smile and a kiss to the cheek. “Yeah, we really are.”
#andi mack#andi mack season 4#tyrus#andi mack headcanons#tyrus headcanons#buffy driscoll#cyrus goodman#Jonah beck#marty from the party#bex mack#bowie mack#bowie quinn#cece mack#tj kippen#my headcanons
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
taglist: @queenofthearchitect @calicina @never-sawft-princess @5dsinyourdirection @fancybarbii @aria725 @lustyromantic @kai1996en @angelbaby908
ch 5.
Roman could tell by her refusal to look at him that she was already regretting their little tryst. Even with his emotions being all over the place as well as his confusion as to what to do next with the news of his impending fatherhood, he still couldn’t bring himself to regret a damn thing despite the wedding ring he put back on his finger.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving me the silent treatment?”
Braelin stilled at the sound of his voice before slowly pulling her long hair over her shoulder ”We just spent the last hour talking. What more do we have to talk about?”
Roman narrowed his eyes “How about the fact that you’re carrying my children and we need--”
“There is know we, Roman. We’ve already established that.”
“No, we established that before I knew the truth. Things have changed and we’re now playing a different ball game. From this moment on you and I are a family.”
Braelin’s mouth fell open seemingly catching flies “Are you outside of your damn mind? You’re married and I’m--”
“When has that stopped us before?” Roman sighed “Look, I’m not proud of how this happened but it happened. You’re carrying my children and that means something."
"Yes, this means we'll be connected forever and maybe that's enough."
And before Roman got to disagree her phone started ringing "Don't answer that."
Braelin ignored him and answered it anyway not bothering to check to see who it was and honestly she didn't care she just wanted to end this entire conversation "Hello"
"Hey, little mama. Where are you?"
The sound of Dante's voice was enough to almost make her topple over with guilt "D-Dante, hey. I'm over Ayanna's house. She had a rough night so I'm just checking in on her."
Roman glared at her before taking a step closer in which of course she took several steps back.
"Ok, that make sense. You were supposed to meet me an hour ago—“
Braelin closed her eyes "I know baby and I'm sorry I promise I'll make it up to you."
Roman attempted to snatch the phone out of her hand but Braelin moved out of reach "Are you kidding me right now?" He whispered heatedly.
"Dante, actually how about you meet me at my place tonight at eight and I can cook dinner."
Dante grinned liking that idea a lot more than them meeting up at his place for disney plus and chill. "Sounds like a date. I'll see you later tonight, baby."
Braelin smiled softly before hanging up by the time she turned back around to Roman he looked more disheveled than he did post coital "Did you have fun throwing your new boy toy back in my face, again?"
"Look, we're starting to sound like a broken record with our conversations and even worse we're falling into this habit of falling back to each other's bed while you're married and I'm— with someone else."
"Does Dante know he hasn't made it to boyfriend territory yet?
Braelin wasn't sure where she and Dante were headed or if they needed to be heading anywhere especially while she was pregnant with another man's child. But she sure as hell wasn't going to discuss it with Roman.
"Dante knows I'm carrying your child and he's stood by me regardless of that fact. I'm not sure Janelle will feel the same and honestly if Dante decided right now that this entire thing was too much I wouldn't blame him. This is our mess and we dragged down enough people in it. So until we figure out a way to make this less painful for the people we love and care about then I think we need to keep our distance."
"Not a chance. But you're right about one thing, things have changed so when Janelle gets back I'm going to do something I should've done after you and I first had sex and I'm going to be honest with her about everything. And then after that you and I are going to have a long discussion about what's next." He said with finality.
Roman clearly had plans for them as a family and he was in no mood to argue with her on any alternatives.
Braelin sighed pulling her sweater over her head and slipping her feet back into her shoes "I have to go." she mumbled and before she made it past the door she was spun around and her lips were captured in bruising kiss.
Roman and Braelin went at it for a few seconds before he let go, "We're a family. Don't push me away."
"I have to go." she said before leaving to meet Dante.
Braelin ran into the house. She had forty minutes to shower and get dinner started before Dante arrived.
She really thought things would be easier once she told Roman that she was pregnant but it only seemed to make things more complicated.
Braelin heard the doorbell and smiled. She turned off the shower and put on her robe "I'm coming." She said before unlocking the door.
"It looks like I caught you at the right time." He grinned, obviously liking what he saw.
Braelin laughed shaking her head and pulling him inside "Get in here. Let me go change and we can get dinner started."
"Why? I like what you're wearing now."
Braelin shot a pillow at his head "Behave."
"No, promises." he walked over to her and burying his face into her neck "Damn, you smell good."
Braelin closed her eyes enjoying the close proximity "We really need to get dinner started. I know you're hungry."
"I'm starving " he whispered.
Braelin looked into his lust filled eyes and saw as clear as day what he was hungry for. Unfortunately, she was violently reminded what she and Roman had done an hour ago "I meant food. I promised you dinner and I plan on delivering."
Danted sighed loudly, "Fine, but one day soon. I want to eat my fill."
"Down, boy. You'll have plenty of time to eat. But right now I want you to taste something else."
Dante's eyes darkened "You're such a tease."
Braelin winked "I'll be right back."
When Braelin came back into the living room she was wearing an oversized T-shirt, fuzzy socks and her favorite worn shorts. She decided it was probably best to keep things as PG as possible "So I was thinking we should make shrimp alfredo."
"Sounds good to me. It'll be like a little throwback from our vacation in Bora Bora."
"I wish were there now. Everything seemed so simple and peaceful."
Dante grabbed the ingredients out of the fridge "Just say the word little mama and we can go back."
Braelin looked up at him "Just like that. You'll drop everything just to do that for me?"
Dante looked over his shoulder hearing the scepticism in her voice, "Don't be surprised. I mean if I'm being honest there's not too much I'll say no to when it comes to you."
Hearing that gave her pause. "What are we doing, Dante? seriously. I mean we're together all the time now, we go on vacations and at the moment if it wasn't for my babies you would be all I think about."
Dante moved around the counter grabbing her face with his large hands "We're friends. We're workout partners but" he rubbed his thumb across her cupid bow shaped lips "We're a lot more than that aren't we?"
Braelin couldn't do this, she had to be honest "I had sex with Roman."
Dante blinked that's not what he was expecting to hear "I know. You told me."
"No, I mean I lied about where I was. After my doctor's appointment I went to tell Roman the truth because I thought he deserved to know and then we sort of—"
Dante's hands dropped from her face "Is this going to be some pattern between you two?"
"No, Dante it was a mistake."
"The first time was a mistake, Braelin. After the second time it's now a habit."
Braelin held her head down in shame. She could tell he was disappointed in her which made it harder to look at him. "I'm sorry." She whispered.
"We're not together. At least not officially but I want us to be but I need to know that I'm not some rebound until you're realize you're not over Roman."
Braelin shook her head placing her small hands on his face "I know what that's like and I would never— Hey, look at me" she didn't continue until he was looking at her "I want us. I want this. I want you. No one else."
Dante searched her eyes for hesitation and found none "Good, because I want you too and I have for a long ass time."
Braelin laughed "You have me." she leaned up and kissed him sweetly.
Dante pulled her into his arms and for the remainder of the night that's where she stayed.
Roman placed his suitcase in front of the front door. He checked around the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and that's when his eyes landed on the sonogram. His daily reminder of his impending fatherhood. He hadn't spoken too or seen Braelin since the night she told him the truth. He constantly fought the urge to go to check in on them but he had a feeling that she really didn't want to see him.
Roman heard the sound of keys from behind him. He noticed she wasn't paying attention and almost collided into Roman. "Someone's lost in thought."
Janelle steadied herself "I'm sorry, baby. But I just got off the phone with the doctor and the tests all came back normal. I'm completely healthy so I don't understand why we can't conceive."
"It's just going to take a lot longer then what either of us planned and that's alright."
"When was the last time you checked your sperm count?"
Roman blinked "Umm..never. I'm pretty sure my sperm is working just fine."
Janelle shook her head "How do you know that? Have you gotten tested lately?"
“I don’t have too. My sperm works just fine so I know it’s not me” Roman sighed deciding to take a different approach “Maybe it's a sign that we should probably wait.”
Janelle didn’t understand where this sudden hesitation was coming from. “What’s going on with you?”
Roman furrowed his brows “Nothing.”
“Tell that to someone who doesn’t know you. Every since I came back from DC you’ve been different. When I ask you to see a doctor for the sake of our family you shut me down when it was your idea to start a family.”
“It was our idea.”
Janelle nodded “Yes, but now it feels like I’m alone in this wanting. What changed?”
He knew he had to be honest with her. At this point there was no need to prolong the inevitable “A couple of months ago I cheated on you.”
Silence
More silence
Janelle swallowed “You what?”
“It was one time until—“
“Until what?” she bit out fighting the urge not to go the fuck off.
“It happened again while you were in DC.”
And that did it. Every ounce of self control Janelle had was thrown out the window after finding out her husband cheated on her not once but twice. She was in DC being poked and prodded by some fucking doctor because she wanted to have his child. But what was he here doing? Fucking some bitch.
Roman expected the slap that came but he wasn’t expecting the attempt to kick him the balls. He grabbed her leg but was met with another slap. “You son of a bit—“
When she attempted to slap him again Roman grabbed her hand “Relax.” he yelled.
Janelle eyes narrowed “I find out my husband cheated on me twice and you want me to relax, fuck you.”
Roman pushed her gently away from him “That’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you meant. You should’ve relaxed before having the balls to cheat on me not once but twice and since you’re feeling so profound and what to confess after several months tell me who the bitch is you cheated one me with.” she said getting in Roman’s face.
Roman’s jaw ticked. He decided to take several steps back because this girl was really trying him. He would never hit a woman but if she put her hands on him again they were going to have some damn problems.
Which brought him to something else. He knew Janelle would would react this way after finding out he cheated on her twice. Anyone who felt as betrayed as her would and understandably so. But he didn’t even want to think about what she would do if she found out Braelin was the woman he cheated with and that she was carrying his children.
So he did the only thing that felt natural at this stage of the game. He lied.
“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matt—“
Janelle laughed bitterly “Was it with the same girl or was it two different women.” His silence was enough for her to figure it out “This woman led my husbands dick astray twice so it definitely fucking matters. Who is she?”
Roman’s alarm went off reminding him he was already late heading to the airport. He cursed “I’ll call you when I land so we can talk about this.”
Janelle moves to stand in front of the door “I don’t think so. We’re going to finish this.”
Roman clenched his jaw “Move, Janelle.”
“No, I’m not letting you leave here until you tell me who she is?” Then it dawned on her “it’s someone you work with isn’t it? Is it..It’s Braelin isn’t it?”
Roman shook his head “No.”
“It’s her isn’t it.” she said pushing at his chest fresh tears streaming down her face “tell me you son of a bitch.”
Roman grabbed her small hands and yanking her toward his cheat “It’s not her” he yelled “it’s someone I met at a bar. She’s no one, Janelle. Now, I have to go.”
Janelle looked up at him with the saddest eyes. “How could you do this to me?”
Roman pulled her into his arms “I’m sorry, baby. But I have to go. We’ll talk about this once I get back.” He kissed her on the forehead and was out the front door.
Roman always prided himself on being an honorable hardworking man. He wasn’t perfect but he knew enough to know that he was never going to put his wife through the pain of wondering if he was fucking around on her because at the end of the day she was his home. He was her man and no other woman can fill the place his heart and bed because that place was only reserved for her. But as hardworking as he was he working overtime to convince himself that the woman that held the key to his mind, body and soul was the one wearing the ring and not the one in the arms of another man while carrying his children.
“How did my life get so fucked up?” Roman mumbled to himself before heading off to start the post Wrestlemania tour.
“Have you guys— you know?” Liv Morgan asked with a raised eyebrow.
Braelin laughed “Damn, you’re so nosey.”
“Wrong, this is me being a good friend. You know making sure your needs are being fulfilled.”
“Well, my needs as you so kindly put is being put on hold. We’re taking things slow and we’re both excited to see where this goes.”
Liv beamed at her friend “I can tell. You’re practically glowing.”
“Liv, he's so different from what I’m used to with Roman. I mean with Roman we were friends first and then it kind of blossomed into something else. We got so swept up into each other that nothing and no one else mattered. In a weird way he was my obsession. But with Dante. It feels like a fresh start. When I look at him I don’t see my heart getting broken or I don’t feel like the second choice. It’s just feels new.”
Liv practically melted into a puddle “I’m so happy for you, Brae”
“Thank you.”
Roman walked up to the two women “Hey, Liv.”
“You’re ears must be burning.” Liv laughed before leaving the two former lovers alone.
“What’s wrong?” Braelin asked barely resisting the urge to rub the forehead wrinkles that seemed to materialize over night.
“Are you ok?” He asked, placing a hand on her protruding stomach that was being hidden under a free people babydoll shirt.
“I guarantee you I feel better than you look.”
Roman snorted his eyes still on her belly “I haven’t gotten much sleep. Janelle is back in town.”
“Ok, That’s way too much information.”
Roman rolled his eyes “Not that but I did tell her the truth.”
Braelin froze “You did what?”
Roman grabbed her small hand in his and led her into an empty dressing room. He closed the door “I told her I cheated on her twice but now with whom.”
“That’s all you told her?” Braelin asked suddenly feeling nauseous.
“She reacted as badly as I expected. There was no way she would be able to handle that it was with you and now you’re pregnant.”
Braelin ran a hand through her long locks. The guilt was almost crippling “I need to sit down.”
Roman was at her side in an instant “Here, sit down.” When she was safely seated he handed her his water bottle that he was carrying “Drink this.”
Braelin listened as he gave her blow to blow details of his confession and Janelle’s reaction. As well as their phone conversation that lasted all night. She felt the urge to cry and run but she knew she didn’t deserve to do either. She fucked around with another woman’s husband and now she had to pay the price.
“I need to talk to her. There’s no way I’m letting you take the fall for this alone. We both did this.”
Roman shook his head “No, you are in no condition to get into it with Janelle and we both know that’s what’s going to happen. We’ll let this play out until—“
“Until what? Until I give birth?”
“We have no choice. I will not put you or my children at risk. After you give birth I’ll come clean about everything.”
Braelin fought against the tears “This is too much.”
Roman kneeled down holding her pretty face in his hands “I know but we’re going to be alright because from this moment on nothing and no one matters more than you and my children. Like I told you before we are a family.”
AN: I’m so it took so long to update. I recently got a promotion so work has been crazy busy. But we’re starting 2020 soon and my New Year's resolution is to be better with updates lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the update!
#wwe fanfiction#wwe smut#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns fan fic#kat graham#fan fiction#ghostin#key writes
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi, khaleesirin! I’ve read your “Daenerys Targaryen is the Great Other” analysis, I thought it was particularly amazing (because the standard is high as it is), it gave me a new lens to look at and analyze Daenerys’ story and it propelled me to reflect further about her arc and themes in relation to the other characters’. I’d like to know your opinion about my musings.
So, I think it’s obvious that the show - at least in its final episodes - had double standards when it came to Daenerys in order to paint her in a bad light. However, I wonder if that won’t also be the case in the books, to a lesser extent.
One of the major themes permeating FeastDance as a whole is false peace, which you can see with the Lannisters and the Tyrells squabbling over Tommen; the several factions in the Night’s Watch; the Freys in the Riverlands; the Boltons and the former Stark vassals (especially the Manderlys); Dorne’s supposed allegiance to the Iron Throne (and also Arianne’s years-long resentment); the situation in the Vale with Littlefinger as Lord Protector; Team Aegon out of public sight (for the most part); and, of course, Daenerys’ campaign in Slaver’s Bay. In all of these plots, people are trying to resolve their disagreements in vain: sometimes war is inevitable.
What makes me uncomfortable is that, as far as I’m aware, Daenerys is the only character whose choice of war (or, more precisely, Fire and Blood) is possibly being framed negatively. I say “possibly” because we don’t have TWOW in our hands to be sure, but you can see that’s a possibility considering how a significant part of the fandom has come to the conclusion that she just can’t be a peacetime queen, she has shown her “true colors”. This opinion never sat well with me because, as I said, lots of characters are heading towards this direction, and Daenerys herself only arrived at that place after having made many efforts to make amends, but they weren’t meant to last because some wars need to be fought on. It is a specific situation that will likely bring out her more violent impulses, yet it doesn’t define her character as a whole. I’ve read arguments about how the peace was worth it in Meereen and how Daenerys is now going backwards, but I simply disagree with them and, considering the pattern in the narrative and the anti-slavery ideas in Fevre Dream, I lean towards GRRM disagreeing as well (I’d really like to know if his main inspiration for Daenerys’ storyline was the American Civil War or the Iraq war, because knowing that would really clarify what he is trying to convey with her storyline). In any case, again, why is she the only character whose decision to fight the just (and inevitable) war is being framed as a step too far, a turn to the darkness?
a) In this case, I think it’s worth considering the Doylist viewpoint. ASOIAF was supposed to be a trilogy of books about Westeros first and foremost. Daenerys was supposed to live among the Dothraki, birth her dragons, get an army and get to Westeros in the beginning of the third book. As we know, GRRM is a “gardener”, so, as he had more ideas for the characters in Westeros, he had to create more stories for Daenerys as well, and one of them was her ruling in Meereen. This brings me back to your essay about her: being the fire of the song of ice and fire, why isn’t her anti-slavery war in Essos given as much importance as the War for the Dawn? Why should it be a mid-point for the character to realize that her endgame is Westeros? If Jon’s struggles against the Others represent the battle against the supernatural form of slavery and the ice part of the story, why shouldn’t Daenerys’ narrative be the battle against the human form of slavery and the fire part of the story? I’d argue both are just wars, though the WftD is an easier, more black-and-white, standard fantasy conflict, while the war in Slaver’s Bay has more nuance (one may argue that the characters revolving Daenerys are not fleshed out enough or dumbed down military speaking or one may point out the racist aspects of Daenerys’ story, but the socioeconomic situation is indeed complex) and is more controversial, which only reinforces the need to continue developing this story and, most importantly, Daenerys’ political career (which I’ll get to later).
These questions show that GRRM also has his architect side. Daenerys’ endgame is Westeros because he’s already said his story is about Westeros. Therefore, he needs to transition her to a mindset that’ll propel her to finally leave, but I don’t think he’s considered (or cared enough about) certain negative implications that I laid out above (and it’s not exhaustive, other writers have talked a lot more about it).
b) We also need to consider how the show factors into those speculations and how we look at the story, because, like it or not, GRRM still told the ending to D&D, even if in a very simplified manner. Before season eight aired, I was fine with the idea that all of the six main characters were going through the darkest phases of their journeys, but that Daenerys’ in particular would cause more collateral damage as a natural consequence of the power she wields. After season eight, however, I started to reflect if GRRM may have double standards against Daenerys as well. In any case, the show has made it very likely that her fire and blood phase will culminate with her burning of King’s Landing. On the one hand, this could be dramatically interesting, but on the other hand, it could amplify those very double standards against her. I’ll explain:
b1) As of ADWD, Daenerys hasn’t yet been exposed to the atrocities her father has committed (in part because she refuses to do so). What better (if deeply tragic) way to do so than have her directly confronting the legacy he’s left behind - namely, the wildfire caches all over the city? It would shatter her sense of purpose in life and lead her to question herself and her sanity. It would lead her to be critical of the Targaryen legacy and how she wants to engage with it and how she uses it to define herself. It would make her feel more lonely and isolated than ever, especially since one of her core wishes is to belong somewhere, to have a place to call home… And no one would embrace her if they think she did it on purpose. I can see this being dramatically really interesting.
b2) But I have my reservations about this: 1) If this happens, Daenerys will be in need for redemption and this doesn’t feel right to me (similar to how I feel about Arya). 1.1) She is not and has never been morally flawed as characters like Jaime or Theon or even Tyrion and Sandor. As of ADWD, she’s only committed two morally ambiguous acts (ie crucifying the 163 masters and torturing the wineseller’s daughters). She’s always had her heart in the right place and, if this tragedy happened, it wouldn’t necessarily turn her darker, she’d be a victim of circumstance (and I say so because I don’t see how her actions are any different than the other leaders fighting in the Wot5K, again the double standards…). I dislike how this would frame her outcome in such a moralistic way, especially considering how her character and arc have been paralleled with Jon’s and I’ve yet to see any theories of his character taking a dark turn. 1.2) She’s one of the characters who better embody the books’ idea that you have to do the right thing even if you don’t get anything in return. And yet, not only her war in Essos will be given less narrative importance compared to the WftD (because it will be treated as a middle stage to her fire and blood phase), but when she arrives in the protagonist-centered Westeros, she will be committing war crimes (even if accidentally in the case of the burning of KL)? I’m not a fan of this scenario because it strengthens the idea that she can’t be a peacetime queen because her choice in her final ADWD chapter was fire and blood (which as I’ve said ignores all the time she spent trying to make peace). 2) Also, I’ve noticed a tendency of fandom also demonizing the Targaryen dynasty as a whole, the dragons and the Iron Throne (which to them serves the same thematic purpose as the Ring of LoTR) and I don’t buy their interpretation either because we’ve already seen previous kings who did right by Westeros sitting on the Iron Throne and using their dragons. Having Daenerys fail so spectacularly to restore her family’s dynasty and destroy its most important symbol (the Iron Throne) does not say much about the dynasty’s nature or even the corrupting nature of power as they’d like to believe, it mainly creates sexist implications (that I’ll discuss below). Of course, this depends on how it’s framed: if the dynasty’s end is meant to be a tragedy because of Aerys II’s actions, then I’d buy it; if the dynasty’s end is meant to be a better course of action for Westeros, then it does not work. I wonder why the Targaryens are so vilified when every other house is also working under the parameters of feudalism. Feudalism as a whole should be criticized. Why are the North or Dorne in any better conditions under the governments of House Stark and House Martell? And if GRRM wanted to make an statement about how it’s bad for one individual to accumulate so much power under a centralized government, he really failed, because the Targaryen dynasty is made of successes as much as failures. 3) I’d still expect Daenerys to choose a diplomatic course of action before ultimately deciding to use her dragons on Team Aegon. Heck, it’s still mind-blowing to me to know how the Yunkish masters have burned a lot more things in ADWD than Daenerys and then envision a scenario where she decides to go fire and blood and then accidentally burns everything. GRRM will have to be careful with how he executes this plot if this happens, precisely because it doesn’t gel that well with her previous characterization.
b3) If Daenerys burning KL comes to pass (and the show made it seem very likely that it will), then Daenerys is most likely another queen who failed, which is another tired plot point as well. Anyone who’s read F&B knows that Aerea and Rhaella Targaryen, Rhaena Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen and Daena Targaryen were all considered as queens but were ultimately passed over for their male relatives. It’s a shame that GRRM had so many opportunities to let women rule and chose not to, so why can’t Daenerys be the ultimate change for the dynasty? Related to that point, why can’t she succeed in re-establishing her dynasty when Aegon the Conqueror could? You can’t escape the gender aspect of her potential failure, and having Sansa end as QITN doesn’t fix that, it only makes one question the double standard that plagues House Targaryen and not the others. Finally, in hindsight of the historical (and GRRM’s) pattern of setting female rulers aside and of everything that might happen to Daenerys in the books, having Aegon take the throne and get the love from the smallfolk Daenerys craves for only adds salt to the wounds.
b4) Of course, all I’m supposing that happened in the show and will also happen in the books is that Daenerys will burn King’s Landing. Will she be made a villain and implied mad as well after a lot of stupid foreshadowing in which male characters only told us what the writers wanted the viewers to see, rather than the writers actually showing signs of madness? Will she willingly burn a city full of innocents? Will she be robbed of her perspective by waving away all her actions as “Targaryen madness” (another way of the fandom demonizing the Targaryens, which the text doesn’t really support if you look closely)? Will GRRM not pay attention to how those actions could undermine the book series’ main themes (not that the fucking show has conveyed any themes in a consistent manner, but that’s a bigger issue)? Will he have it happen at a point that’ll leave Daenerys with no chance to redeem herself and end her story with her legacy forever tarnished in-universe, general awareness and pop culture? Will he make Jon Snow look good even after killing her (if that’s how she dies)? Will he make her work within a system that never gave her a chance and have her last appearance be drenched in Nazi symbolism? Because of the double standard that’s also present in the books affecting how Daenerys is perceived, I’m no longer a fan of the theory of her burning King’s Landing. But, if it happens (and it won’t happen without its share of issues), please, GRRM, let her voice be heard, pay attention to her previous characterization, reflect on how those actions will be tied to the book series’ themes and give her a chance to redeem herself and ultimately end on the side of the heroes (because that’s what she is, and that’s important to acknowledge because of her previous acts, the series’ themes and how she compares - or doesn’t - to the actual villains of the story).
Anyway, I agree with you that it was great to see Daenerys rule in Meereen and that it’d a shame if GRRM doesn’t recognize that in the future books. I’m not sure the original Daenerys as he envisioned was going to be as revolutionary as Daenerys is, but, considering the OTL as it is, if their trajectories have changed, then naturally their endgames must be different as well (fitting with GRRM’s gardener identity).
I’d argue that Daenerys’ ending should emphasize her as a political force. Therefore, if one must have her have her dark phase and then burn King’s Landing (and not allow her to continue the Targaryen dynasty, which I would have liked to see), then have Daenerys decide to turn back east with her three dragons to continue the good fight after concluding that Essos has never felt like home, but it was where she did put the effort to build trees, while Westeros was the dream and home of her ancestors, who do not need to wholly define her. It is the end of the Targaryen dynasty, but not with her death. Why I’d choose an ending like this: 1) The circular ending matches show!Jon’s, whose ending I thought would be fitting for book!Jon’s as well; 2) She ends her journey being more critical of external influences and more aware of her needs and actual experiences instead of simply taking on Viserys’ and her ancestors’ dreams to find an ultimately failed sense of belonging. She’s the one in charge of her journey from now on, which is an existential victory of sorts. The continent where she made and can still make a difference is Essos, and she’ll return aware of that, and with a more realistic and resilient sense of purpose; 3) It emphasizes her role as a queen and a revolutionary, not only as a savior (to people who have been in the abstract for her for most of her life); 4) It won’t be a totally happy ending. She’ll be left scarred from the events she witnessed in Westeros, from the burning of King’s Landing to the fight against the Others to the rejection she experiences from the lords and smallfolk alike. She’ll always feel like she needs to atone for her mistakes and she’ll be another Targaryen queen who failed. She still won’t have found a place and people to call her “home”. 5) That being said, she’s alive, in a position of power, more aware of herself and her place in the world and with the possibility of continuing to do good. And she’s also mentally stable and a hero, far from a villain.
So, what did you think? Do you think there are double standards against Daenerys in the books as well, especially in regards to how the inevitability of the wars is framed? What did you think of my observations about the (likely) upcoming burning of King’s Landing? Would you rather have her sit on the Iron Throne, go back to Essos or something else entirely? Please tell me what you think! I really enjoy your posts and they are the reason why I felt the need to gather my thoughts.
#daenerys targaryen#posting this submission so anyone who likes to give their comments can also do so#the person who sent it didn't want their name published#i'm particularly interested with question b3#also because this is something irrationalityi brought up to my attention#with her usual erudite take on it#for the person who sent this i promise I'll get back to this
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 17 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).
Title: Waltzing's for Dreamers.
Rating: PG if that.
Warnings: some language.
Characters/Pairings: Carol/Daryl, Jadis, Beth Greene, Ezekiel, mentions of Sophia Peletier, original character, Noah, Eric Raleigh, allusions to Carol/Other, mention of Tobin, Benjamin.
So sorry about the delay on this. I was blocked on this chapter for a number of reasons, but then Jadis just inserted herself and the log jam cleared and I'm still not completely sure if that's a good thing, lol. I'll take what I can get, though. ;)
Waltzing’s for Dreamers
Seven years after Vegas. Second week of April. Aka, Prom week.
The auditorium is already humming with activity when she slips inside. Ducks into the back row to hide in the shadows with the rest of the latecomers hoping to go unnoticed. Of course, she isn’t that lucky. The part-time art teacher, full-time pain in her ass this particular time of year definitely notices.
“Are we going for unfashionably late or…”
Carol simply uncaps her water bottle and takes a measured sip. Mulls her words and her life choices. Because taking the long way around? Sprinting clear across campus in an effort not to inadvertently cross paths with her should have already been, soon to be (if not already) ex-husband? Well. Not only is it ill-advised and more juvenile than she’d ever care to admit out loud, it’s more of a workout than she’s ever previously realized and she vows to be a little more understanding the next time one of her students has to do the same. Jadis, however? Doesn’t necessarily deserve her good will but she gives it to her anyway. Until she presses her luck.
“Very boho-chic.”
It’s not so much the words she says. It never is actually. It’s the way she says them and Carol fights the urge to scowl like a child, which she suspects is very much the reaction the other woman is going for. Instead, she schools her expression and glances down at her ensemble. The long, gauzy peasant skirt that (hopefully) hides the fact that she is too tired dealing with the prom and this play business, dealing with the kids and their respective busy schedules, dealing with Daryl’s return and all the emotional upheaval it has caused in so very short a time to really care if she hasn’t shaved her legs in a few days. The loose, flowing tunic with its pretty paisley pattern that makes her feel like a bit of a gypsy queen and the ancient ankle boots that are broken in and comfortable and still kind of low-key sexy. She looks back up, matches her seating companion’s lifted brow, and smiles, obviously catching her off-guard. “Thanks. Did you do something different with your hair?”
“As a matter of fact…”
“Very David Bowie.”
Jadis narrows her eyes and leaves in a huff, insinuating herself with the group of flummoxed music students a couple of rows down. Beth among them.
Carol barely has any time to celebrate her departure before Ezekiel is claiming the woman’s abandoned chair and dumping a pile of dog-eared scripts in her lap. “What is this? No. No. This is your dog and pony show, remember?”
“But I disagree, fair maiden. Twas your students, if I recall, that chose this year’s production.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she mutters, “Yeah. A group of departing students with an ax to grind.” She shudders at the memory of a week’s worth of performances of Seussical and glares at the back of Jadis’s head because the woman’s artistic vision for the show had been a source of nightmares at her house for weeks. With even Sophia suggesting they shelve anything Dr. Seuss related until it all had time to fade from their consciousness. When the kids had voted to permanently retire it, she hadn’t voiced any objections and neither had he or any of the other teachers involved in the joint venture except one. “Do you really blame them?”
Lost in the fog of his own memories, Ezekiel intones, “I do not. And yet, Romeo and Juliet is a marked improvement.”
They don’t discuss it any further because the door next to the stage opens and bright sunlight and more people spill inside, including Noah and the man she’s been so desperately trying to avoid for days now. “You didn’t.”
Ezekiel doesn’t even bother to deny his guilt, instead taking credit where credit is due and seeming to delight in her utter state of shock and shrugging off her assertion of betrayal. “Oh, it would seem that I have indeed. You cannot run from love forever, Carol.”
Maybe not, Carol thinks as she studies Daryl unaware. His dark blond hair falling across his blue eyes and the button up shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders. The snug jeans that have more than a few of the teenage girls in the auditorium voicing low twitters of approval and her own reawakened hormones staging a revolt against her better sense. Fortunately, sanity prevails. After all, his physical beauty she can resist. However challenging it might be. The marvel of his heart beneath his gruff exterior? Well. That’s a different story altogether and damn Ezekiel for pushing the issue. She knew she never should have trusted leaving him alone in an inebriated Eric’s presence at the last staff party. Making a mental note to have a little talk with the loose-lipped band director as soon as this meeting is over, she tells him, “There’s nothing to run from. Not anymore.”
“Methinks, the lady doth protest too much.”
“Love is overrated.”
“Carol, Carol, Carol. Don’t…”
“Bullshit a bullshitter. I know,” she hisses, mindful of the curious eyes that are starting to turn in their direction. “I’ve heard it all before. And anyway. Isn’t that somebody else’s line?” Feeling cornered, with her emotions more than a little bit raw due to all of the revelations of the past month and a half, she lets her anger at the whole fucked up situation bleed through. “Your schtick is getting old and I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in where it isn’t wanted.”
“I was merely trying to…”
“Help?” She laughs derisively. Quietly as she looks away from him. Knots her fingers in the folds of her skirt.
“Mock me if you will, but do not deny that you pine for him and he for you. Anyone with eyes can see it. Even those that do not know the half of your history together. And this situation with Tobin, his very public proposal...”
She cuts him off with a finger to his chest. “Is none of your business.” Pulling the strap of her messenger bag onto her shoulder and standing, she can’t find it in herself to care anymore about whatever audience they might have. Shoving the scripts back into his arms, she shakes her head. “Why do you even care?”
“Because it makes me feel good. And because I do not wish to see two very stubborn people make yet another mistake. This one irreparable.”
“It’s our mistake to make. Ours.”
“Excuse me. Sir? Ms. Mason?”
As one, the sparring adults answer. “Yes, Benjamin?”
“A few of us were talking and we wondered if we could go ahead and get started. We got prom committee, too, and we still have a shi—crapton of work to do, Sir.”
Carol uses his distraction in answering the boy to make her escape and she doesn’t look back. If she had? Well. Point is, she doesn’t.
Daryl’s steely gaze softens and lingers on her in concern anyway.
#The Walking Dead#Caryl fanfiction#Caryl#Carol x Daryl#Waltzing's for Dreamers#aka What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas fic#stuff that I write#Jadis#Beth Greene#Ezekiel#Noah#Eric Raleigh#mentions of Sophia Peletier#original character#allusions to Carol/Other#mentions of Tobin#Benjamin#some language
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Adhvagati or, Thirteen Reasons Why If He Were Your Brother, You’d Want to Kill Him Too
(i.e., that one crackfic I promised @queenofmahishmati I was going to write for her weeks ago, whoops.)
Such is the force of Mother’s personality, her confidence in her children, that Bhalla spends that first morning on the road convinced he will return, Saket in hand, by dinner time. Reality intrudes unpleasantly when the sun sets, and Bhalla must admit to hunger at last. Baahu makes a show of declaring that the horses deserve a rest—as though he’s not tired himself!—and they settle in for lunch.
Bhalla studies the packet Baahu passes him suspiciously. “What,” he asks, “is this?”
“Soldiers’ rations,” is the cheerful reply. “Uncle smuggled me additional ones from our stores.”
He knows he will regret it from the first sight of the dry roti, but that first bite is an unpleasant shock nonetheless. “This is—“
“Less stale than usual,” Baahu agrees. “Uncle was too kind.”
“I wouldn’t feed this to a goat,” Bhalla snaps.
“Of course you wouldn’t! Goats eat….” Baahu frowns with sudden confusion. “Other things.”
Other things, indeed. Bhalla flings the food away with a scowl, ignoring Baahu’s reproachful look.
“I’d rather starve,” he declares haughtily. Missing a few meals never did anyone any harm, and besides, how long can Saket evade them, anyway?
*
When, not if, Saket finally comes within his reach, Bhalla swears he’ll strangle him with his bare hands. Stealing the secrets of Mahishmati be damned; Bhalla demands, no, deserves the scoundrel’s blood for being subjected to...this.
Dinners haunt his dreams, spiced and varied and utterly unlike the stale rotis that are their only option other than the occasional fruits they find. Oddly enough, goat features heavily, too, though he can’t remember what would cause such a craving. He’s never had any particular partiality for it before.
Baahu returns from a detailed discussion with a middle-aged laundress and her children, looking far too pleased with himself, and Bhalla allows himself to feel hope for the first time in hours.
“Well?” Bhalla barks. “Where is he?”
“Oh, she hasn’t the slightest idea. But,” Baahu adds, “she did invite us to share the noontime meal with her family.”
He smiles beatifically, as though offering the greatest of gifts, but Bhalla can’t bring himself to object. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” he grumbles, in hopes of keeping away the grin that threatens to betray him entirely.
His euphoria lasts until he sees the meal the woman offers them: mango pickle, curd,….and more rotis.
“Freshly made!” says Baahu. “We cannot thank you enough for your generosity.”
Bhalla opens his mouth to disagree—when his gaze falls upon the creature tied up in the courtyard of the laundress’ small house. She notices where his attention has gone and smiles.
“My children have raised that goat since he was newly born,” she says fondly. “By now, he’s almost a member of the family.”
“A magnificent creature,” Bhalla agrees, nodding. “Absolutely deserving of the honor of providing a meal for a prince of Mahishmati.”
There is a short, appalled silence. One of the brats at the laundress’ side starts to sniffle. “You’ll have to excuse my brother,” Baahu says at last. “He’s fond of making jokes. Ones not as clever as he thinks they are.”
He pairs this with a significant look at Bhalla, one that Bhalla takes great pleasure in ignoring.
*
They resort to seeking Saket at taverns along the way. “He was a great drinker,” Baahu says casually. “All the servants mentioned that. He’ll stop at the wineshops if he stops anywhere.”
Relying on the words of servants seems suspect, but Bhalla knows enough from watching his father to remember the shakes and irascibility a man used to strong drink must endure if he does not satisfy himself. Baahu’s logic makes as much sense as anything else—and besides, taverns at least offer the lure of edible food.
Or so Bhalla supposes, naively, before he realizes the plan is for Baahu to go in and charm the crowd into passing on information, while he, Bhalla, searches the cellars like a common servant, far, far away from any refreshments. The injustice of this grates, but still Bhalla waits patiently until the pattern repeats thrice over before he voices his concerns in a calm and reasonable manner.
Baahu blinks. “I hadn’t realized you minded,” he says mildly. “Of course we can do things differently if you want. You don’t have to shout.”
At the next tavern, Baahu manages to find a servant in the stables who remembers that the man who had paid with the coins minted by Mahishmati for the fastest possible horse had been traveling south. Bhalla, when he finally hears of this, fails to appreciate it as he should—but that is perhaps understandable when dealing with the fallout from a twenty-person brawl, a roof set aflame, and an innkeeper who feels the inexplicable need to throw a barrel and shout, “And stay out!” as Bhalla departs.
Baahu raises his eyebrows.
“Do not,” Bhalla warns, “say a word.”
*
With time Saket learns to turn away from the taverns, and bury his trail among the forests instead. He does not show his accursed face to any who remember it; he transforms into the ghost he should rightfully already be.
“Uncle’s been teaching me to track,” Baahu says with a confidence Bhalla should know better than to trust. Instead he wonders spitefully at Kattappa’s continued partiality. “Let me see what I can do.”
Baahu’s idea of tracking involves a great deal of nodding intelligently at crumpled leaves and hoof prints that seem no different from any others on the round, but it’s not until Bhalla looks around and sees nothing around him but unforgiving stone that he thinks to demand: “You haven’t the faintest idea where we are going, do you?”
There is a suspiciously long pause. “We’re following in Saket’s footsteps, and that’s all that matters.”
By which he means: not at all. Bhalla groans.
*
Baahu wakes up in a disgustingly cheerful mood; something that is usually the case, but even more unbearable since they are in the middle of nowhere.
“We’re not in the middle of nowhere,” Baahu corrects. “We’re in— Kuntala, I believe. If I remember Mother’s maps correctly.”
“Clearly, the mistake is mine,” Bhalla snaps, “in forgetting that the royal cartographers decided that “Kuntala” took up less space on a map.”
Other titles the cartographers must have rejected include “godforsaken country where no public guesthouses are to be found” and “wretched wilderness where every rock in the vicinity crawls under a man’s blankets”. Some day, when Bhalla is King, he swears he’ll raze this ridiculous nation to the ground in recompense for his present state.
He has never been more miserable in his life, and Baahu, at the moment, has started humming happily under his breath.
Bhalla doubts that he could possibly hate him more.
*
He’s proven wrong mere hours later when Baahu insists on stopping to help a farmer whose cattle have been stolen. Bhalla understands the duties of a prince well enough, but these people are not their own; besides, Mother, Kattappa, and Baahu’s usual crowd of adoring commoners are nowhere nearby to notice or care. Worst of all, Saket is speeding away in any direction he pleases, escaping their grasp forever, while Baahu chooses this moment to play the hero.
“It won’t take long!” Baahu calls over his shoulder, and Bhalla sucks in a scream.
His unlikely savior is the farmer himself, who appears...unexpectedly unconcerned about the situation. Perhaps he’s come to the conclusion that cattle-farming is honestly not the occupation he would have chosen for himself. Perhaps they’re lacking in common sense, so far from civilization.
“Oh, they’ll have taken the news up to the Crown Princess,” he says, settling down on a tree stump as though without a care in the world. “She’ll have them back by nightfall.”
“Really--” Baahu leans closer, curiosity piqued all the more now that there’s a woman involved. That’s all he manages to get out, though, before Bhalla grabs him by the arm and drags him away.
“Once,” he growls, “only once, can you not go three days without picking out someone to charm?”
Baahu has the gall to look innocent, and then indignant. “You can’t be serious. If ever I did cross paths with the Crown Princess, I’d only want to convey my respect for her reputation among her people. In a completely platonic fashion.”
Bhalla can hear him now: Why, do you waste your time worrying over worthless peasants? What a coincidence; so do I! By all means, feel free to join the ranks of those who fawn over me for no good reason at all.
“Of course you would.” He snorts. “And I’m a monkey’s uncle.”
“You have been looking hairier than usual,” Baahu says, all too seriously. “I hadn’t wanted to mention it before.”
And now he’s subject to Baahu’s questionable sense of humor. Bhalla closes his eyes and tries not to weep.
*
Saket has taken refuge in Singapuram; the one piece of useful information the farmer was able to provide was that another man had ridden this path before them. He had begged food from the farmer, and announced his intentions to hide from certain unsavory villains pursuing him in the most dangerous city in the world.
“A city,” Bhalla repeats in wonder. An actual city, with buildings and beds and basic amenities necessary for survival. His vision blurs for a moment.
“Yes,” says Baahu, staring at him as though Bhalla’s gone mad.
“The dust from the road entered my eye,” Bhalla says thickly in answer to the question Baahu is pointedly not asking. “Did you find us some new clothes or not?”
Baahu nods, producing two bundles. “Green or yellow?”
Bhalla’s always preferred a fine gold to anything else. “Yellow,” he grunts, and unwraps the bundle only to find a garish garment of rough cotton instead of the silk he had expected.
The only consolation is that Baahu’s green is, if anything, just as poorly made. This is what Bhalla gets for allowing Baahu to go and purchase their disguises.
Baahu, when confronted, shrugs unapologetically. “This is what simple merchants wear,” he offers by way of explanation. “It would seem suspicious to appear in anything else.”
Bhalla bites back the urge to point that simple merchants also don’t go around carrying a small fortune in gold coins with them; common sense is lost on Baahu. He dresses himself in the disgraceful costume, much as it offends his every sartorial sense, and allows himself the petty revenge of pointing out that simple merchants also wear the hats they have been provided.
Baahu glowers but places the objectionable item on his head; Bhalla calculates it will be a quarter hour at best before he forgets and pulls it off again.
Nonetheless, it’s worth it. At least that will make for a quarter hour that Baahu suffers alongside him.
*
“A curtain,” says Baahu flatly. “He threw a curtain in your face, and you lost him.”
“It took me by surprise,” Bhalla says with all the dignity he can muster. “Besides, he didn’t so much throw it so much as attempt to smother me with it.” Your concern is appreciated.”
Baahu rolls his eyes. “You seem to have survived the ordeal with only minimal injuries. The curtain, on the other hand, will never be the same again.”
“Nor will your face when I’m done with it,” snaps Bhalla, the sting of humiliation making him revert back to boyish taunts.
He wishes Baahu’s smile wouldn’t only grow wider in response.
*
“Maybe Kattappa should add that to his training curriculum,” suggests Baahu as they ride. “How to defend against attack by curtain.”
Bhalla grits his teeth.
“Death by silk gauze is a terrible fate, indeed,” Baahu pronounces solemnly.
Fantasies of fratricide dance before Bhalla’s eyes, more alluring by far than any of the beauties that Singapuram boasted.
*
“There he is,” mutters Baahu, reining in his horse, as though Bhalla can’t see Saket’s silhouette outlined before them on the mountaintop. “I’ll take the rope, you take the sword. Who knows if you should need to cut yourself free if he should have any more curtains tucked away?”
Enough is enough; Bhalla’s infinite patience having come to an end. Clearly it is beyond any reasonable expectation to endure him any longer: even Mother or simple-minded old Kattappa cannot begrudge him drastic measures in the face of such clear provocation.
Baahu dives off the cliff, an idiot to the end.
Bhalla takes up the sword, and grins.
* Adhvagati= Sankrit for “travel, a journey.”
*Obviously all Bhalla’s EVIL scheming once he discovers what Baahu’s up to during his trip to Kuntala is only because he is so appalled to find out what a LIAR his brother is :(
*Likewise for the eventual destruction of Kuntala, clearly all because of residual trauma from this road trip.
* Curtains are a little-known menace. Bhalla just wishes more people understood this very, very important fact. (Just ask Sirius Black!)
* “And I’m a monkey’s uncle” is a phrase not found in any Indian languages, but that setup was just too tempting.
*Jokes aside, this is for the lovely @queenofmahishmati , who wanted crackfic and asked for this in the aftermath of a very silly thread Baahu/Bhalla bickering session, so….this came into being. This is super late, sharme, but I hope you like it anyway, friend!
#crackfic#bhalla#set in the canon universe nominally but honestly just plain silly#also this turned into self-parody#so excuse those jokes too
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sassy I'm a bit curious but feel free not to answer this question if you don't want too. Why do you think the webkinz fandom is so bad lately. I've probably had my head in the ground the whole time because I haven't seen anything that bad recently. I have seen bad things before on kinztube and kinztagram but what part of it recently is so bad. I'm only asking this to get a new perspective not to tell you you're wrong. you've known this community longer than I have.
Don’t worry, I understand what you’re saying. Curiosity and wanting to learn is a great thing and I’m always happy to help, so hopefully I can explain this well.
The Webkinz fandom isn’t just bad lately; it’s been for awhile. I touched on it slightly here, but I’ll go more in depth below.
I guess the simple TL;DR is that I have never seen a community more willing to put someone under the chopping block to “spread awareness” or simply to engage in callout culture. (I’ve reblogged a few things on callout culture if you wanna read them.) Now for the actual part that’s long.
WAIT. I said I understood and I didn’t. I thought you were asking just what’s wrong with the community and not just recent drama. I’ve already spent over an hour typing all this and only caught that proofreading it. It still stands for today, but recently, since I’ve basically said “bye not dealing with you” to everyone, I haven’t really seen any drama. I don’t watch KinzTube anymore, I don’t follow members of the community, so I’m not really the best one for this. It’s really past experiences that set my opinions, although from what I’ve heard, it hasn’t gotten better. Alright, back to the post, carry on.
Being on KinzTube 8 years, I’ve seen a lot of things. Trends, secrets, scandals, but I took it as normal. I figured “every fandom is this bad. This is normal” until I saw it wasn’t.
I’ve seen people go on about Starrystar33 saying how she was a mean person and no one should have looked up to her, their main point being that she said “please don’t use my name” even though that’s just the thing nearly everyone said back in 2010. People used to get very defensive and angry back in 2007 and 2008 when someone wanted to be queen or king of a Webkinz (for real though, people stopped caring in ‘09 and this isn’t a thing anymore. Everyone making rants like it’s still a thing…no. No one has cared about it in a decade.) I used to see videos saying “block this person!!” although now it’s gotten a lot dirtier.
See, the Webkinz community has stepped aside from yelling “Billy hurt me!!” and has turned instead to “I wish I could give you my pain just for one moment. Not to hurt you, but to make you understand how much you hurt me~ ♥” And people praise them. Praise them for posting an “inspirational quote” and “keeping drama out of this” when really, the person is going to read it. Their friends will show them. It will hurt like the dickens. And because the original poster is so highly praised, they’ll keep doing it. The fallout is public and everyone knows who the post is about, but because there’s no names mentioned, it’s taken as acceptable and keeping things “drama free” when really it’s just a dirty trick to hurt people. It gets even worse when someone asks “what’s this about?” and they answer “I’ll message you” and the talking behind others backs happen. It spreads from person to person in private as it travels through friend groups. Everyone slowly gets turned against the other party because it’s a lot easier to trust gossip from a friend and have it taint your views.
To someone on the outside that’s not tuned in, it looks harmless, but pay attention to the subtle details and you’ll begin to notice a pattern. To eat my own words a bit here, there was a video made about me awhile ago. I think it’s been taken down, but the user and I had a spat. My friend sent me the video saying “look what they did.” It was a video where a Webkinz that represented them pushed through the crowds, above all the haters, but took special time aside to push down and diminish a Signature Siamese Cat; a Webkinz I use to represent me. To others, it was about standing tall, to my friends and me, it was about them going out of their way to say “fuck you.”
Through the addiction to gossip, hatred is born. Unbeknownst to a user, an entire community can be turned against them. The amount of back-handed exchanges and how people thrive off of it is sickening. And it’s happened to me.
This isn’t even the end of it. One of the reasons I had to disable comments on my channel was because of Webkinz users overall being salty. When I got my third Signature Siberian Husky, Karma, the comment section was a bloodbath. About 4 people sounded genuine saying she was cute, the rest were passive aggressive “I want one” and “oh yay good for you I don’t have one” along with flat out “you’re so spoiled lord you already have two huskies and you had to buy a third and keep someone else from buying it!” I kind of wonder if that video is what sparked the KinzTube trend of making rants on getting doubles.
I was prepared for the messages and when I got Timber, my second Signature Timber Wolf, so I went on the offense. Flat out spewing what I had learned and seen. I made a full on rant that I still stand by. Webkinz fans are salty. If they didn’t have something and they deemed someone had something they wanted, that person was a devil and needed to be put in their place. If they disagree to give/sell it to you, they’re even worse. I was surprised when rather than getting hate messages, I actually got a few people praising me for speaking up. I’m far from the only one affected by this issue.
As I said in the video, I believe this is due to the general age range for Webkinz fans being 11 - 16, a tough time in life where they’re learning social skills. Hormones are raging and I believe this is the time when people are most self-conscious. Low self esteem paired with a community that has hate and gossip knocking on every door leads to a pack mentality, or how I see it, a mob mentality. A confusing and hard time when you’re so angry, anything can set you off. That rage is often directed at whoever is the most recent target, whoever your friends have told you about, who hurt someone you follow.
Not everyone will be like this, I’m speaking mainly from my own experience and what I’ve seen, not any studies or anything. I don’t fully blame them, I was in that exact spot a few years back, but it’s toxic and shouldn’t be normalized.
The worst part of this being normalized and just “something everyone does” is that some don’t grow out of it. I hate to be this way, but you need the punch in the face to realize and learn. No one can tell you social skills and you acquire them like moves in a video game; you have to learn through life the hard way.
I understand I’m highly biased here, but this has been my experience.Has there been good in the community? Of course. There’s also the “village idiot has the loudest voice” thing, so the bad are always more vocal than the good. You just gotta pick your battles and push through, that’s the only way you’ll make it in this community.
-Sassy
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Party poppers
I guess that makes me exactly one month and a fashionable 5 minutes late, then?
Happy birthday, Shiraishi Kuranosuke!
ShiraYuki fluff, featuring Fuji and Yukari.
The sound of party poppers was starting to get stuck in his ears. As he made his way to his house, he was starting to think that one more party popper, and he would go crazy.
But he knew he couldn’t escape his fate.
He turned the doorknob, and as he walked through the door, the now all-too-familiar shouts of “Happy birthday!” burst forth. But there were no party poppers this time.
“Yukimura? Fuji? What are you doing here in Osaka?”
“Celebrating your birthday, silly! Why else would we be here?” Fuji said.
“Well, yeah. Of course.” Shiraishi put his school bag on a chair. “I hope you don’t mind if I change clothes?”
“Of course not,” Yukimura smiled. “It’s your house, after all.”
“I’ll be right back.” And as he said that, he briefly bowed and went upstairs.
“Oh, please forgive my big bro for being such a grump. He’s always like this on his birthday.”
“He is?”
“Yeah,” Yukari said. “His school and his friends always go all out to surprise him, but, like. At completely different times. Last year he had at least 5 different surprise parties. Needless to say, he was half dead by the time he got home.”
“That… sounds pretty rough. I mean, my school hasn’t thrown any surprise parties since Yagyuu caught me at a bad moment and ended up being forced to be absent from school for over a whole month.”
“What happened? No, never mind, I don’t want to know,” she said, aware of who was standing in front of her. I mean, what member of any high school tennis club didn’t know of the legendary Yukimura Seiichi?
“My club doesn’t do surprise parties anymore either. I wonder why?”
“I think it is because the last person that tried to surprise you ended up fishing cactus needles out of their behind for at least three weeks.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Yukari wondered just what people she had let into the house. She definitely didn’t hear this from her brother.
Lost in thoughts, Shiraishi unbuttoned his school shirt. Why did they come all the way to his house to celebrate his birthday? He had thought that for them, sending a card would have been sufficient.
But no, now they were here. Just when he thought his birthday was finally going to be over. He liked his birthday, he really did, and there were so many people who tried their hardest to make this day the best day of the year, but it always left him so exhausted at the end of the day.
Pulling off his pants, he looked back. He had been friends with them for three years now. It all started at that U-17 camp, when they shared a room. And an interest for plants. And not too much later, their phone numbers and email addresses.
With Yukimura it had started a little earlier. He remembered being invited over to Rikkai, where he walked through the rooftop garden and listened to Yukimura’s stories.
He looked at himself in the mirror. Unfortunately, his mirror was a little small, so he had to angle himself a bit to get a proper look at himself.
“What should I put on…?”
He wondered what Yukimura would like him to wear. They had visited each other’s houses pretty often, even though they lived pretty far apart. The four hour train ride was a sacrifice he was willing to make. But every time he got so nervous about what to wear, he ended up not changing at all.
Somehow, that was even more embarrassing.
Today was the day he’d put on some damn casual clothes for once, instead of his school uniform.
He picked his favourite green t-shirt, before pulling it off again and trying something different. Again.
“So you’re the famous Yukimura Seiichi big bro’s been talking about. I’ve been missing you every time you came over because of my Girl’s Day with my friends, but you’re awfully handsome, aren’t you.”
“Eh? He’s been talking about me?”
“Yeah, he’s been gushin’ about you every dinner. It gets annoying sometimes, but he’s having such a great time talking about you we can’t really stop him.”
“Hmm? You two had that kind of relationship?” Fuji chuckled.
“It’s not anything like that. We just hang out together pretty often.”
“On a weekly basis?” Yukari asked.
“Yes?”
“And you go to fancy places to hang out?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call them fancy but—”
“Oh please. You two are practically dating!”
“We’re… what?”
After a while, Shiraishi grudgingly gave up trying to find the best clothing combination he had, and went with the green t-shirt anyway.
“Big bro~~ You’re leaving your boyfriend waiting~!”
“H-He’s not…! Don’t say weird things, Yukari!” He hurried putting his pants on, just to prevent the situation from escalating.
“Saa~, you two do seem to be hanging out at each other’s houses a lot…”
“So what?!” A quick check-up on his hair, no strands out of place—
“What, you say? I just think it’s suspicious to get Yukimura on the phone when I’m calling you. Almost if you’re…”
Shiraishi’s face quickly turned red. As he rushed down the stairs, he shouted: “You’ve got it all wrong, there’s no way Yukimura and I are sleeping together…!”
He opened the living door room, only to be met with Fuji’s never-changing smug smile. “I didn’t say that.”
“Big bro, your face is on fire!” Yukari laughed.
“Well, who wouldn’t be embarrassed?!” Shiraishi hurriedly jumped to his defence. “…Wait. Where’s Yukimura?”
“Oh, he’s getting a glass of water.”
Shiraishi walked to the kitchen to speak to him. “Yukimura, you shouldn’t listen to those two, they’re just—”
“Teasing us, yes. Shiraishi, you should know better than to listen to what those two are saying.” Yukimura averted his eyes and took another sip from the glass of water.
Did he imagine it or was that the remnant of a blush on his cheeks?
“Should we get the presents out or should we leave you two be lovey-dovey over there?”
Yukimura choked on his water and burst out into coughing.
“Are you okay?” He placed a hand on Yukimura’s shoulder.
And in between coughs: “Let’s just get on with the presents, shall we.”
They returned to the main room just in time to see Yukari and Fuji sharing a high five.
“You two really enjoy this, don’t you.”
“Yep,” came in unison.
Realizing he still had his hand on Yukimura’s shoulder he inconspicuously tried to remove it.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that,” Fuji said.
A sigh.
“Well then,” Yukari said, clapping her hands, “I think Fuji should start!”
“Ah, okay. Then, happy birthday, Shiraishi.” Fuji handed him a card with little cactuses on it.
“Thank you. Cactuses, huh…”
“Aren’t they cute?”
He looked inside. Hanging onto the card by a paperclip was a shopping receipt. “’Happy birthday, Ku-chan,’” he read. “Don’t call me Ku-chan!”
All other people present burst into laughing.
“Why not? I think it’s a cute name.”
His hand brought itself to his forehead. “Anyway, I’m continuing. ‘Because I know you like looking at yourself almost as much as looking at Y…’ Fuji. Do I really have to read this out loud.”
“Absolutely.”
He sighed once again, and put on his most dramatic voice. “Yukimura. Who you took care of faithfully for these many, many years. Who you cared for, made him laugh, brought him tea… Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mind. To Shiraishi Kuranosuke, I bequeath—”
Instinctively, he ducked. But nothing came.
“Go on,” Fuji urged him.
“I don’t feel like getting any boots to the head.”
“Oh no, it’s not what you think. Just read it.”
“We won’t continue ‘till you’ve finished it~”
His voice had reduced to a mumble. “’To Shiraishi Kuranosuke, I bequeath… a full-length mirror to be delivered to his house in a week due’?
Oh wow, Fuji, you shouldn’t have. Thank you!”
“Hey, don’t stop too early.”
“What more is on there?” Shiraishi frowned. “’Love, Fuji Syuusuke. p.s. and a boot to the head. ☺’”
And indeed, Yukari gleefully flung one of her boots at his head.
“Yukari, no!”
But it already was too late.
With an amazing sound of impact, it landed straight into his face.
“Guahh!”
As the boot started falling to the ground a snort could be heard.
“Your face! Your f…” Yukimura burst into laughing.
Restoring from that mighty blow was a rather difficult task. He could feel the place where the boot hit become red.
But hearing Yukimura laughing like that helped ease the pain a little.
“My sister also baked a cherry pie for you. I put it on the table.”
“Really? Thank you! Will you give my thanks to your sister?” he said, rubbing the spot where the boot collided.
“Of course.”
“I already gave you my presents this morning, big bro. You’re not getting any more from me.”
“I know, I know.”
“It’s my turn, huh. To be honest, when Fuji dragged me along to go to your house I wasn’t really prepared… So I brought one of my plants.”
“Liar,” Fuji whispered.
“It’s true. You kind of called me over on a whim.”
“Yukimura, is this hand-painted?” Shiraishi’s eyes fell from the flower to the pot, decorated with patterns of greens, whites and blues.
“It is. …Do you like it?” Yukimura asked tentatively.
“Yes! Somehow, looking at the patterns…” he traced his finger over a curl on the ceramic “…makes me feel a bit at ease.”
“I was wondering when you’d taken up pottery painting… You’d been working on this for weeks, from what I’ve seen.
“D-Did n-” Disagreeing would be a blatant lie. Agreeing would contradict his earlier statement. And thus, the child of god froze in his words, while his face burned up in embarrassment.
He laughed. “Thank you, Yukimura.”
“…You’re welcome." And in barely more than a breath, Yukimura managed to reclaim his composure.
“A narcissus flower, huh… Do you know the meaning of this flower?” He let his fingers go over the bright petals of the flowers.
“I told you, it was on a whim. But if I remember correctly…” Yukimura paused a second to think, “it means ‘respect’ in hanakotoba.”
“It does. But do you know of the Western meaning?”
Yukimura dug into his memory. “New… beginnings?”
“That’s right. But this smaller, more fragrant variety has an extra meaning.” He wondered if he should really tell him.
“That is?”
Well, it’s not like he could turn back. “It means ‘love’,” he said, eyeing Yukimura from the side.
“…Eh?”
“To be more exact, it means something around the lines of ‘love me, desire, affection returned’…”
Yukimura quickly turned red. “I told you it was on a whim…! I didn’t know! I just thought… this flower fit you.”
“I know, I know, don’t worry.” Though, if he unconsciously chose this flower… No, he said he didn’t know.
“How come you know so much about this flower?”
“Of course, the bulbs are poisonous.”
Yukimura put his fingers to the bridge of this nose. “I should have known.”
“Thank you, Yukimura. I’ll take good care of it. I really love—”
A sneeze.
“It’s got a pretty nice strong smell, doesn’t it.”
Yukimura’s fingers started covering not just his nose, but hiding his entire face. “What did you just say?”
“Huh? I said I really love the flower?”
“O-oh.” Yukimura breathed out. What did he think it was, anyway?
“Speaking of which, I brought a movie for us to watch,” Fuji said. And indeed, he took a DVD from his bag.
“Which movie?”
“Saa~”
The case was blank, it had no title, no images, nothing. Knowing Fuji, it could be anything from a horror movie to a sappy romancey one.
“Of course,” Fuji said, “I have my camera ready.”
“Why do you always take your camera with you when the three of us are doing something?”
“Because you’re my favourite people to tease, aside from Tezuka and Yuuta.”
“…How so?”
“It’s so much fun seeing you two all flustered when you’re usually a wall of smiles or unfazed. Besides, sometimes you two seem to need a push in the right direction.” Fuji spared a glance at Yukimura.
“A push?” Shiraishi asked. “What the heck would we need a push for?”
“Rather than that, let’s watch.” Yukari sat down on an empty chair, watching the scene unfold.
“Hey, answer me! Yukari, Fuji!”
Fuji simply smiled and put the DVD in.
“Yukimura? Do you know?” “No,” he said as he sat down on the couch.
That had to be a lie.
“Well, it doesn’t matter too much, I suppose.” In reflex, he flopped on the couch, bare inches from Yukimura.
“You’re pretty close, aren’t you?” Fuji said.
“Ah, uh, no this is—” Yukimura stammered, before the two went to sit at a proper distance.
“Don’t worry about that,” Fuji said, “I already have it on camera.”
“…What’s with that,” Shiraishi butted in.
“I’ve been watching you two, you know? Hoping to get some nice shots. But the thing is, every time I think something’s gonna happen, either of you backs out. Shiraishi reaching for Yukimura’s hand but holding back, Yukimura almost leaning against you…”
For a split second red faces met startled gazes before embarrassedly looking away.
“You’ve been stalking us, then?” Yukimura asked.
“I don’t stalk you any more than I stalk Yuuta,” Fuji smiled.
“Next time just ask, if you wanna come along,” Shiraishi said.
“But I want to see you two when you’re alone together. It just isn’t the same between you two if the three of us hang out.”
“I’m sorry, Fuji, for making you feel like that.” Shiraishi apologetically put his hand to the back of his head.
“No, it’s alright.” Fuji wistfully looked away, his hair fluttering to the sides in an invisible wind.
“…Can we make it up to you?”
Fuji opened his eyes.
“You’ll just have to show you’re fine showing affection to each other when I’m around.”
“What?”
“Wouldn’t this movie be the perfect opportunity to prove that? I’m just asking you guys to do what you couldn’t.”
“J-just wait a moment…”
“I’m not asking for much, really. Just allow me some good shots. Remember the things I said? Holding hands, cuddling. Maybe you could be bold and go in for a—”
“Fuji!” he shouted, panicked.
‘A kiss with Yukimura?! What was Fuji thinking?! Yukimura’s lips, on mine, hand cradling my cheek— No, what am I thinking?!’
He hid his blushing face behind his hand.
‘Damn…’
The feeling wouldn’t leave his mind.
He looked at Yukimura. Yukimura was looking away, his face equally red.
‘Though probably not for the same reason…’
“Just kidding, just kidding. But I stand by my point. In fact, I don’t plan on leaving until you prove it to me.”
“Now this.”
“I’ll give you all movie the time to work out your things.”
“I’ll get the popcorn!” Yukari shouted. “Guess there’ll be more than one thing to watch tonight,” she added with a wink.
“What has this all become…” Shiraishi sighed. “Just when I thought my birthday would be over…”
“Are you not glad that I’m here?” Yukimura asked, his face turning into a pout that was way too cute for someone called the ‘Child of God’.
“That’s not it! I’m… Well… I’m really glad you’re here. But this whole thing…” he gestured at the situation.
“I know. See our visit as an act of friendship on behalf of me and Fuji.”
‘Friendship, huh…’
“I know, and I’m glad you came. And hey, It could be worse. At least you’re not making your entrance in a giraffe costume on rollerblades.”
“That happened?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell,” Yukimura laughed.
“I know, right? Well, strange things happen in Shitenhoji anyway.”
‘And even stranger things with you.’
“What?” Yukimura gave him an incredulous stare.
He put a hand to his mouth. ‘Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?’
“A-anyway, movie?” he stuttered.
“Sure. Fuji?”
“On it.”
To his surprise, the movie was rather decent.
Even though he wasn’t too interested in the musical numbers, the characters were interesting and the plot sustained itself well.
He was just starting to get into the movie when he got distracted by an amiable warmth against his shoulder.
“Y-Y-Yukimura…?”
His shoulders tensed up and his heart beat went out of control when he looked at the figure of Yukimura, leaning against him.
“Will you relax? It’s less comfortable when your shoulders are tense.”
Now tinged by a soft blush, he tried his best to lower them again.
“Yukimura,” he said, unable to keep his eyes off his shape, “I don’t want you to feel forced to do this. I know what Fuji said about leaving but—”
Yukimura smiled. “I’m not forcing myself. I just really felt like allowing myself to stop holding back and start doing things I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”
Yukimura snuggled closer, and he couldn’t help but let his face burn up.
‘Start doing what you’ve wanted to do, huh…’
“…Is it really okay?”
“Would I still be here if it wasn’t?”
He smiled in relief, before letting his own head lean against Yukimura’s. Maybe he should stop holding back, too.
He let a finger run over the back of Yukimura’s hand, looking closely for any signs of discomfort.
When Yukimura affectionately rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, he knew it was alright.
Taking Yukimura’s hand in his own, he gently lifted Yukimura’s palm.
That warmth…
Softly he stroked the backside of Yukimura’s fingers with his thumb, relishing the feeling bubbling up in his stomach. He happily continued fondling Yukimura’s hand, playing with Yukimura’s fingers in his own. Until he finally settled for intertwining them with his, letting himself melt into Yukimura’s touch.
…he wouldn’t mind drowning in it for all eternity.
When did he fall asleep? Wrapped in a comfortable warmth, his cheek being gently stroked, he almost didn’t want to open his eyes.
“…But what if he doesn’t? I don’t want this to break…” Yukimura said.
But he had no choice than to wake up.
“You guys can’t be like this forever. Someone’s got to make a move,” Fuji said.
He groaned, before finally opening his eyes. ‘Oh, the movie already ended… Wait, why was everything in such a weird angle…?’
“It seems our sleeping beauty has finally woken up. Did you have fun, sleeping in Yukimura’s lap?” Fuji said.
“I… What?!” He startled upright.
Sure enough, when he looked at it, those were Yukimura’s legs. And sure enough, the hand that was now dropping to Yukimura’s lap couldn’t have been any other hand than Yukimura’s.
“It’s a shame you had to wake up so soon~ You were so cute, too, huddling against Yukimura, mumbling his name…”
“Are you kidding me?! I-I didn’t…!”
“You did,” came from Yukimura. “It was absolutely adorable.”
“Don’t worry about credibility,” Fuji said, holding up his camera. “I have all pictures.”
He hid his scarlet face behind his hands in embarrassment.
“How did it end up like this…”
“Isn’t it okay?” Fuji asked. “You did seem to enjoy it.”
“I wouldn’t mind doing it again, if you want to,” Yukimura said. “I also enjoyed it, after all.”
“You did?”
“Of course. Your sleeping face is too precious,” Yukimura laughed.
He let out a sigh, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. He couldn’t deny that it had been heavenly, that warmth, but he still couldn’t believe Yukimura was really…
“So, what about that final present?” Fuji asked Yukimura.
“Final present?” he asked.
“Ah, uh, yes. I actually had a last present prepared, but…” Yukimura sighed. “I wasn’t really sure whether to give it to you.”
“Why would you hesitate?”
“…Because I’m not sure whether you’d like it or not.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I mean, it’s from you, after all.”
Yukimura moved from his sitting place, moving closer, moving… to sit right in front of him.
“Is it okay if I sit like this?” Yukimura asked, shifting to a slightly more comfortable position over Shiraishi’s legs.
“I, u-uh, ah, s-sure.” Yukimura’s blue eyes locked with his, leaving him nigh unable to form coherent sentences.
Yukimura moved closer, placing a hand on Shiraishi’s cheek. “You see, I…”
Those sincere eyes of Yukimura were drawing him in, closer with every passing breath. They seemed to engulf the world around him, until it felt like Yukimura’s very presence connected to something deep in his heart.
Yukimura closed his eyes.
“I…” What came from Yukimura’s mouth was barely a whisper. “…I lo-”
Their lips connected.
In that single moment, that kiss brought forth a wave of heated tingles, moving like sparks from his lips to his cheeks, warming his shoulders and chest before finally settling in his stomach, swirling around like falling stars.
Even though it felt like an eternity, almost immediately Yukimura startled away.
“…Oops. Guess I can’t back out anymore, then.”
He was still left speechless from the kiss.
“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but… Well, I was afraid you wouldn’t like me back, and I didn’t want to lose what we have. It took me a little too long to realize I liked spending time with you a little more than just a friendship would warrant. And it took me way too long to learn I had fallen for you.
I’m not asking you to immediately accept my feelings, as I know you might not feel the same way. But I want you to at least give them some time.
I know I’m kind of taking a risk here, as it’s your birthday and all, but…
I want to go out with you, even though that wouldn’t change our current situation a lot. I want to stay by your side. I love you, Shiraishi.”
For a moment, he was stunned, processing all the things that happened within the last two minutes.
Yukimura was on the verge of moving away. “I understand if you want to think this over, but I just had to let this—”
He pulled him into a hug.
“Shi…raishi…?”
“I love you too,” he finally managed to say, letting his head rest on Yukimura’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to rush you into anything you wouldn’t want. Heck, I didn’t even know whether you returned my feelings or not! And I held back, and held back more… And it’s been so hard…”
Before he knew it, tears started rolling down his cheeks, and his voice trembled.
“There were so many nights I wanted to call you and let my heart out, but I knew I’d be too afraid. Do you remember that awkward phone call at 1 AM, right before Christmas last year? I had been so close to giving in that time, that I just wanted to hear your voice saying it’d be alright. In the end, the call never went anywhere, did it?
I never thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d feel the same.”
He laughed. All of this seemed just like a dream.
“Yukimura… Thank you. This is the best birthday present ever. I love you, too.”
A warm wetness made his shoulder moist.
“Are you crying, Yukimura?”
They pulled away from the hug, and indeed he saw Yukimura’s tear-streaked smile.
“I never thought I’d get sentimental over something like this,” Yukimura laughed, wiping his tears.
“Have we really been pining after each other for years, never realizing how we felt about each other?”
“It seems so… Guess we still have much to learn on the area of love.”
“Let’s take our time and master all of it, shall we?”
“You really are a dork sometimes,” Another chuckle from Yukimura. “But I guess you’re my dork now.”
“Ah~, ecstasy~!”
They both laughed.
Even as the evening came to an end, and the moon became the only light outside save for some sparse city lights, they talked. About what they felt, the near-slipups of the past, and some more silly proclamations of love.
He had never had a happier birthday in his entire life.
#prince of tennis#fanfic#shiraishi kuranosuke#Yukimura Seiichi#now that I think of this I've never tagged my ShiraYuki as ShiraYuki#eh#Fuji Syuusuke#Shiraishi Yukari
1 note
·
View note
Text
TGF Thoughts: 1x06-- Social Media and Its Discontents
Thoughts under the cut...
The Kings wrote this one, which always means it’s either a big episode or it contains a topic they’re passionate about. This episode falls into the latter category.
And Jim McKay directed. He’s directed many TGW episodes (and has directed at least one episode every season), and also lots of episodes of shows ranging in style from Rectify to The Americans.
The episode kicks off with a white dude in front of a solid green screen ranting about coding and how men are inherently superior to women. He is very mad about a change in Google’s algorithm that implies that women can invent things. Like, he’s seething. Over the idea that women could invent things. His resentment—and his complete lack of logical reasoning—would be almost comical if this weren’t based on a very real online harassment problem.
We cut away from the green screen to Neil Gross slapping a sheet of paper down on the RBK conference table and explaining that’s just one offensive post made on his social platforms.
The device used to illustrate the content of the posts is reminiscent of how the writers have brought cases to life in the past. Whenever a case requires a lot of talking, the writers like to bring in these illustrations to make the plot clearer and more captivating (see 3x07 and 6x18). In this case, they may also be trying to put faces to posts that would most likely (but not necessarily) be made anonymously.
Neil presents the RBK team with 4,758 “problematic” posts. What, is he only looking at the past hour?
Neil continues to comment on how cool it is that there are black lawyers… while only addressing Diane.
He brings a gift for the RBK team (no sign of it being RBKL yet…). It’s a Chummy T-Shirt with “Team Reddick, Boseman & Kolsted” written on it. I bought the Chummy shirt the CBS store offered and it’s super soft and comfortable. If CBS made this shirt—without the typo, of course—available, I would buy it too. Hear that, CBS? I am telling you I will spend more money on your product!
Barbara’s last name is misspelled on the shirt (it’s “Kolstad,” not “Kolsted’), and she notices immediately. When she points it out to Adrian, he just notes that Neil is bringing in $86 million a year. Wasn’t it $58 million last episode?
Neil needs a new Terms of Service agreement because two of his sites have become “like the Wild West of racism and sexism.” These sites are “Chummy Friends” which is Facebook-like (a way a real life Neil Gross would literally never describe his own site, but character Neil Gross has to because how else would we know what Chummy Friends is standing in for) and Scabbit, the Reddit clone from 5x09. (In 5x09, ChumHum definitely didn’t own Scabbit. Florrick/Agos represented ChumHum at the time, but they were the ones going up against Scabbit in court. I suppose they acquired it.)
Ah, one of the trolls is played by Ophelia’s boyfriend from Sweet/Vicious, which gives me a great opportunity to tell all of you to go watch Sweet/Vicious. Especially if the case this week made you feel angry and powerless. Go watch Sweet/Vicious.
Neil wants the posts gone on moral grounds… and because they’re hurting his business by scaring off advertisers.
“I notice only eyes for Diane,” Adrian comments to Barbara. This is true.
Neil sets a deadline: a new TOS by 5 pm. He then continues to talk about how cool it is that black lawyers exist and how it gives him hope, which he seems to see as a compliment but Lucca, Adrian, and Barbara all (correctly) read as patronizing.
As soon as Neil leaves, Diane suggests splitting into groups to tackle the problem. Barbara immediately overrules her and says they are going to sort the posts instead. (Why wouldn’t ChumHum have given them a digital copy of these posts? That would be much easier to sort.)
Adrian suggests making piles for racist posts, anti-Semitic posts, and threatening posts. He forgets misogynistic, which Diane immediately realizes (and which is a weird oversight I have trouble buying, given that Neil mentioned sexism twice in his introductory speech). Is this meant to be a comment on how Adrian thinks (I mean, you know how I feel about the way he talks to Barbara!)?
Barbara also asks what’s missing, so now I’m confused, because… duh? It wouldn’t just be a white woman who’s bringing up issues of misogyny, even if I bet Diane would list misogyny as an issue before she’d list racism.
Diane calls Maia onto the project through the glass wall. Maia is currently busy, not with work (…) but with a personal phone call to her father. “Dad, I’ve been working pretty hard lately, but, um, I’ll try,” she says. STOP THE PRESSES: MAIA’S BEEN WORKING HARD? Maia hasn’t been on a case that we’ve seen in three episodes, and she’s had a seemingly endless amount of time during the workday to investigate her own problems. Is this Maia’s idea of hard work? Hahahahahahahahhahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha
(Seriously though, SHOW, NOT TELL.)
“But the problem is, I’m an associate. I don’t control my own fate,” Maia says. Ah, so in her first two lines, she’s managed to announce that she’s working hard (when, obviously, she is not) and then inadvertently take my favorite Alicia theme about controlling one’s fate. I want to want your character on the show, Maia, but I kinda just want to buy you a one-way ticket to Mandyville. (To be clear, I don’t care that Maia happens to mention controlling one’s fate; Alicia doesn’t own that issue. I don’t like these lines because they remind me 1) of the ongoing issue I have with the way Maia’s being written and 2) of how much better the Kings did when they explored the same things with Alicia. I know they’re capable of writing better material than this.)
Maia agrees to go see her dad that night. She gets off the phone to go—GASP—do work.
In the conference room, Lucca’s reading a post about the abortion debate. Julius calls it “political” and I’m just wondering: what’s the difference between threats and politics? If your politics are to deprive people of their rights, and you’re stating them in the most abusive language possible, and directing it at a specific individual, how is that not a threat/harassment?
Lucca asks to call a vote on whether this is “political” or “threatening” (also, why can’t it be both?). Julius plays rank and reminds Lucca that she’s an associate and he’s a partner. Ugh. He’s just mad he’ll lose to someone he outranks. I love that Lucca always shares her opinions even when she’s not asked and she’s outranked. Some (like Julius) may not like it, but I admire her confidence. And, I love that she doesn’t speak up to show off or to prove her ideas are the best: she does it because she truly believes that what she has to say is important. (Even better: it usually is important.)
Diane calls a vote on another post, this one about rape. Barbara immediately says it’s a threat. Adrian says it’s not—he’s just making a distinction between a threat and misogyny. Lucca disagrees, vocally. Adrian says the person has to say “I am going to rape you” in order for it to be a threat, because otherwise it’s protected speech. Um, but, as Neil Gross already said, this is ChumHum’s call, not a First Amendment issue. Your right to be a dick on Chummy Friends isn’t protected by the Bill of Rights.
Diane reminds Adrian of this, and Julius goes, “Yes, but the terms have to be fair.” Do they? Legally? Or just for optics?
Maia speaks up to argue against Julius. “And if I’m attacked 50 times a day?” Maia says. Julius says that those who are the most harmed shouldn’t be judging speech. Maia takes out her phone and reads one of the abusive texts she’s been sent.
“But that’s about your parents’ scandal, right?” Julius argues, as though that makes a difference.
“My guess is yes. But sometimes they’re so busy discussing my rape that they, uh, they don’t have time to state their reasoning,” Maia retorts. Then the discussion shifts away from this.
A missed opportunity, I think, to have Maia be able to do more than say, “hey, I got a threat, and it was bad like all these others are also bad!” Has she perhaps noticed a pattern? Spoken with others who face the same threats? Read up on the issue? Picked up on other problems the TOS needs to address? Anything? This is Maia’s only contribution to the case.
Don’t get me wrong (especially since I’m always ragging on poor Maia, who hasn’t done anything other than be poorly written). I think it’s smart to bring Maia into this conversation. She has dealt with this problem personally (on Chummy sites or off), and that insight is valuable. She doesn’t need to save the day or have all the answers (she’s just a first year associate!), and I know that once they’re out of the brainstorming phase there’s not as much Maia can to do get involved. But this harassment stuff is the only thread we’ve gotten about Maia’s personal life that isn’t conspiracy drama about her parents (or the two appearances by Amy in the early episodes, #BringAmyBack), and now there’s a case about it, and the writers are only going to do the bare minimum to tie the two threads together? Maia jumps at the opportunity to help with this project. But is there more? Does she volunteer to help see it through, does it make her want to work on something else as a distraction, is she totally neutral about it to the point where people are whispering that shouldn’t she care, something, anything!?
This case doesn’t need to be a lens to develop Maia. I usually hate cases like that—the ones that only exist to parallel the main characters’ life. But if the show’s going to tackle the topic, why not loop Maia in to a greater degree? Especially after three consecutive episodes where she’s not doing any work. Just give her work to do. Tie her into the cases of the week, and not just the ones that she can relate to. Again, this was never a problem on TGW. If anything, the problem there was that Alicia was on too many important cases. That happened because TGW wasn’t an ensemble show, so, especially at first, everything had to relate to Alicia. TGF is an ensemble show, so it should be really easy for it to find the balance between “Maia’s on every case and everyone needs this one associate on every project” and “Maia never works.”
I KNOW I AM A BROKEN RECORD BUT I’LL STOP WHEN THE WRITERS DO.
Lucca gets a call from Colin and ducks out to take it. He wants to have lunch and also to know what color panties she’s wearing. She says she’s color blind—I think as a joke?
Why does “lunch” always mean “sex” on this show?
Colin goes to talk to his boss about Kresteva’s nonsense. The boss is more interested in his salad than in justice. His boss explains what Kresteva’s trying to do—scare off other firms from taking on police brutality cases by making an example out of RBK, even if that means letting Henry Rindell out on bail. Ah, this is what I suspected but at least we know the strategy for sure now.
Now Colin is “oversight head of whatever, we’ll figure out the title later.” He has no veto power, though. This boss seems fun.
Diane wants to ban every use of the n-word, which Adrian argues against because that would end up banning every rap lyric on the planet from being quoted, as well as Huckleberry Finn. Yeah, Diane. I was with you on the “adding a pile for misogynistic posts” but Adrian’s right here.
Barbara slips up and uses the word “tweets” instead of “posts.” But it’s okay; we all know we’re talking about Twitter here and not Chummy Friends.
I wonder if the writers contemplated calling it “Chummy Chums” or using the word “Chum” in it.
With no segue (deleted scene?), Julius begins talking about how there’s a problem: 50% of misogynistic tweets are sent by women. Okay, and…? How is that a problem? If women are being misogynistic and abusive, why wouldn’t they also be banned?
Lucca and Marissa chime in to say that study (which, naturally, they’ve both read) is bogus, because of how it defines misogyny.
Even Marissa is arguing against Julius. I love it. Diane taps Marissa’s arm like, “not your fight, drop off the coffee and leave” and Marissa, instead of quietly exiting, calls more attention to herself and says, “Yeah, I’m going.” Julius is all, “Who is that?!”
“I’m bored. Teach me something,” Marissa announces to Jay, who is working. People on this show have such odd ideas about their professional responsibilities. Or maybe it’s just Marissa.
Jay tells her to fuck off, I think. Marissa insists: she wants to learn how to investigate!
She asks Jay if he’s ever seen a dead body in person because he’s looking at crime scene photos. He says yes, six. “I’ve seen twelve,” Marissa replies. Jay didn’t expect that. Marissa doesn’t explain this happened during her time in the IDF. It surprises me we didn’t get more exposition there.
Anyway, this conversation makes Jay more receptive to Marissa’s questions, so he tells her she needs to get an investigator license unless she assists a licensed investigator. Marissa takes this as an invitation to join him.
Then Jax walks in and interrupts them and Marissa has to call Maia out of a meeting, because there are labor laws specifically in place for Maia Rindell that protect her from having to work for more than 15 consecutive minutes.
Maia and Jax go into a conference room to talk. There are three windows in the room’s window-wall, and there’s a great shot where Maia and Jax stand behind the window on the left and the window on the right, leaving a lot of distance between them.
Conspiracy stuff happens. Jax warns Maia against talking to her dad because he’ll be wearing a wire.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” Maia says. Do you really though?
(The answer is no, because we follow Maia through the hallways of the office and back to her desk, where she picks up her personal cell phone and phones her father to cancel their plans.)
(Rose is doing a very good job as Maia. I love the way her face changes when Henry insists that they can’t talk over the phone; it has to be in person. She takes it as an indication that Henry really might be wearing a wire, and begins to question everything she thought she knew… again.)
(I like the idea of this plot and the idea of Maia but the writing, ugh.)
More bickering about the TOS happens. I’m going to stop recapping this stuff because I think it’s pretty clear where I stand on it, and once we get to Felix… I just don’t have the time to break down why every argument he makes is wrong.
Colin texts Lucca to meet her now, so she smiles and then proposes a solution to the TOS dilemma: an appeal process. Users will be suspended after a certain number of harassing posts, a panel will review, and they’ll have a chance to appeal. I have questions about the logistics of this, but I like the idea. So does the rest of the room, Julius included. Adrian’s thrilled to have solved the problem well before the deadline.
The policy goes into effect IMMEDIATELY and without any notification (well, we don’t know that there wasn’t a new TOS agreement everyone had to click, but this would’ve been news) and begins to piss off/delight trolls. Now they get to troll lawyers!
Maia goes to meet with Elsbeth. This I’ll excuse because it seems pressing and affects the firm, so it’s kind of working.
Elsbeth doesn’t have furniture in her dentist’s office office, so there are only folding beach chairs.
I think Elsbeth’s “Ada” was designed just to fuck with me, because last week it interrupted an Alicia update and this week it’s playing a song by an artist called “Good Girl” because Elsbeth said, “Good Girl.”
Elsbeth wants Maia to feed her dad false information. Maia’s hesitant, but comes around to the idea. Elsbeth tells her to record the conversation if she does feed him the info.
Lucca and Colin are in bed together, and Colin asks Lucca out for dinner the next night. She wants to know if he means dinner or dinner dinner. The former just means “fucking” and the latter means a date (then fucking). Lucca, we deciphered this code (well, as it applies to “lunch”) during the Willicia affair, but it’s good to get confirmation.
Colin wants the date, and Lucca turns him down.
Ugh, fuck this Felix guy.
But, he reveals something interesting: Diane donated $18,860 to Hillary (which is well over the contribution limit, isn’t it? Where’s he getting this number?), and Barbara donated $23,000. Barbara donated more than Diane did. I’m surprised, but I really shouldn’t be, since a large donation lines up with what we already know about Barbara.
I don’t get how this panel works. They’re going to spend this much time on each Twitter Egg? All the name partners at RBK, for several days, hearing out every troll in person? Why did they institute a new TOS without a trial period or testing it out at all (with mock panels and etc)? This appeal system, in its current form, seems like a waste of time and money. And also weird, because… do you have to go to the RBK offices to appeal? Is there a standard procedure for who’s on the panels? For what happens during deliberations? Do you have to give up anonymity to appeal (that would make sense, tbh)? Are they a matter of public record?
For a show that comes around to the conclusion that we shouldn’t engage with trolls, it sure spends a lot of time on Felix’s antics.
Now Diane and RBK are being harassed online. There’s a never-ending stream of hate. And somehow, in all that, Diane realizes that each account is keeping their harassment to 12 posts. This confuses me. Are their terms of service so vague they don’t tell you what would get you banned (probably; they could just say “continuous harassment” or something like that instead of revealing the exact number or that there is a number of harassing posts you can send)?
So, Adrian wonders if there’s a leak and asks Jay to investigate. Knowing that the trolls will probably talk to a white girl, he asks Marissa to help.
Lucca’s out at drinks with the dude whose ass we saw in the pilot, Zack. He’s her personal trainer. She doesn’t care about him at all, because the only reason she’s out with him at all is so that Colin can run into him and get jealous. Colin doesn’t. Awww, Lucca, you’re starting to care!
Maia goes to meet with her dad, and I wonder if she called first (which… would be the logical thing to do if she’s worried he’s wearing a wire, since he’d need to anticipate the conversation in order to actually be wearing the wire, right?) (unless “wearing a wire” means “making an iPhone recording” in this case?) because there’s a party going on when she arrives home.
At the end of the night, Maia and Henry have a chance to talk. Unfortunately, it plays out exactly as Elsbeth suggested it might, and Maia has to feed her father the lie about RBK.
This Ada thing is a running gag now. Hmm.
Marissa goes to investigate and finds one of the trolls in person. Marissa compliments him, and suddenly he’s let his guard down and tells her everything she needs to know—namely that Felix has their transcripts.
Adrian asks Jay to investigate Julius as the source of the leak. Neither Diane nor Barbara seem to agree with this decision, but they don’t disagree strongly enough to argue.
Ugh, Felix.
I am not the hugest fan of these definitions that pop up in the mean posts. Not sure they’re necessary, nor am I sure those terms are what would confuse a viewer who didn’t already know exactly what this episode was about. Actually, who is the intended audience of this? It seems a little too widely discussed to be these writers’ usual material.
As Lucca, Barbara, and Adrian discuss what to do, Elsbeth arrives, carrying three Vera Bradley bags and grinning. “Oh my God, when did this law firm become a circus?” Barbara wonders.
Felix warns Diane that Neil Gross may have gone to her firm for the TOS for a reason.
Elsbeth updates Barbara, Adrian, and Lucca about the story she planted with Henry.
Marissa enjoys pretending to be someone she’s not for the purposes of investigating. Anyway, turns out Marissa and Jay are investigating Felix’s boyfriend.
Annnnd it works, and turns out the leak isn’t Julius… it’s ChumHum’s offices. Diane realizes it’s a set-up.
Marissa is alerted to a new problem: instead of using the n-word, trolls are now writing “Neil Gross.” Oh, no. (So they DID ban specific words?? I DON’T UNDERSTAND)
Marissa brings this to Diane and explains that one of the trolls really likes her. Diane is confused by how Marissa would even know the troll, and Marissa says, “It’s nothing. They’re easily confused when women offer them attention.” This is her best line since she told Elfman, “God, handsome men are so weak.”
Lucca walks into Colin’s office, angry, and tells him she hates games and to knock it off. He’s not doing anything bad… he’s just not acting jealous, and that makes Lucca mad.
Colin figures it out, and realizes that Lucca’s plan didn’t work. “Let’s go,” she says. I can’t wait until these two just decide to become a couple and stop with the games.
Ugh, I am not here for this Lucca-kisses-and-fondles-Colin-while-he-drives-down-a-dark-and-twisty-road thing. I know these writers well enough to know the car isn’t going to crash, and so it just feels weird and unnecessary until Colin finally pulls over. It also feels exactly like the Kings’ (okay, mostly Robert King’s) idea of edgy sex, and there was more than enough of that on TGW. More 3x01 Willicia type scenes and fewer scenes that remind me of season 4 Kalinda, please and thanks.
Colin lives in a giant house. Why does one person need all those rooms?
Julius notices that someone’s gone through his things and storms into Adrian’s office (or maybe it’s Barbara’s office? They’re both there). Julius, understandably, isn’t happy. He says he was the most loyal employee they had, but no more: he knows he was targeted for this, and that people think differently of him now. He quits the firm and calls Andrew Hart, the lawyer who gave him his card in 1x03.
Diane has to inform Neil Gross about how his name is being used. He’s not pleased, and now he just wants this whole TOS thing to go away as fast as possible. What a shock.
Ugh, Felix. Diane says they’ll reinstate him and he’s sad he can’t keep trolling. Boo hoo.
Diane monologues at him about how he’s a clown and how he destroys his points by being racist and misogynist and how he’s a bully. It’s satisfying, but doesn’t really solve any problems. Like, is the show saying here that harassment is hard to control so it’ll never be controlled, so just don’t feed the trolls?
Diane confronts Neil about the leak, and he responds—even though she’s right—by calling Adrian and Barbara in for another meeting, one without Diane. Barbara is pleased with this: for the first time in weeks, her power doesn’t seem like it’s slipping away from her.
Lucca isn’t wearing high heels!
Colin shows up to RBK and meets with Lucca. He warns her to stay clear of RBK’s finances. Why? Because of the story Elsbeth planted. It’s sweet that Colin warns Lucca. She thanks him, genuinely, but she’s distracted… Maia’s right there, and Lucca knows this means Maia’s world is about to be destroyed even more.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time and Reflection
Riza Hawkeye leaves Ishval. (Oneshot. Gen.)
ao3
Riza Hawkeye leaves Ishval right before dawn. Her watch reads 4 AM and, as she stands in the sand-covered station, she experiences as acute pain in the pit of her stomach. She boards the train taking her to Risembool at 5 AM and spends the time between then and 7 AM fighting nausea that she knows isn't the product of motion sickness. She boards the second train taking her to Central at 9 AM and she finally throws up at 10:00 AM in that train's bathroom. When she has nothing left to expel, she presses her forehead into the cool metal of her watch and feels somewhat grounded. She spends 10 AM to 11 AM passed out in the cramped train bathroom, leaning on the toilet she was sick in. She wakes up at 12 PM when someone pounds the door demanding to know, "when will you be done in there?!" She slinks back to her seat and politely declines the lunch that is offered to her at 12:30 PM. She stares out the window at the vast greenery until a man tells her, "You have done a great service for our country." She then spends 2 PM to 3 PM trying not to cry as she recalls those great services. She gets off of the train and steps onto the smoky platform of Central Station at 5 PM.
"Riza!"
She stiffens and reaches for her gun before registering that she needn't do so. She turns and is surprised to find that the sight of Rebecca Catalina does nothing to ease her nerves. "Rebecca, it's been a while."
Rebecca looks taken aback for a moment and it occurs to Riza that she probably looks as bad as she feels. She wonders if there is vomit in her hair. "Riza, babe, did you sleep at all on the train?"
"I slept."
"Ok… Good – that's good. Well," Rebecca's face scrunches up into a smirk. Riza remembers that Rebecca smirked a lot. She remembers that she used to find that rather charming. "I hope you're awake enough to thank your amazing best friend who showed up to take you home even though someone didn't tell me – "
"How did you find out when my train was arriving?"
Rebecca looks deflated. "Well, if I'm being honest, I just happened to be close to the train station and heard a gal talking about troops arriving this afternoon, I mean, well – now. I heard that troops would be arriving now and figured I'd see if troops included you."
Riza stares at Rebecca and wonders if she should be touched that her friend took the trouble to see her. Riza stares at her and wonders if she's a bitch for not feeling especially grateful. Riza stares at her picks up her luggage. "Where did you park?"
"Oh. I didn't drive. Didn't I just tell you? I was walking around this area and heard someone say troops were arriving. How exactly would I have heard that if I had been in my car?"
There is a playful lilt in Rebecca's voice. Riza forces a smile that she knows looks like a grimace. "Are we walking then?"
Rebecca definitely read her attempted smile as a grimace. "My apartment isn't far from here, babe. Let me take your stuff."
...
At 5:30 PM they walk to Rebecca's apartment. It is painfully awkward. Riza does not attempt to be good conversation. She lets Rebecca talk through the tension and concentrates on her surroundings. The Central air is thick with smog and cigarettes and it contrasts profoundly with Ishval where the air was thick with gunpowder and disturbed sand.
They reach her apartment at 6:30 and Rebecca drops Riza's luggage in the guest-room, which is really just her sparse living room, and leaves her whilst declaring that she needs a bath. Riza sits down on the couch, "your guest bed!", and looks at the patterns in the wood of Rebecca's floor. The textured swirls remind her of patterns the ashes from Roy's fires made when they were picked up by the wind. She looks up from the wood. She wonders when Roy would be leaving Ishval (maybe he had already left?) and whether he would be going to Central as well. She wonders if he has a friend to stay with. Hughes and his fiancé spring into her mind and she feels guilty for forgetting Hughes, he was a nice man. She remembers hearing of the proficiency and efficacy that Hughes, the nice man, demonstrated while slaughtering Ishvalans. She shakes off the thought and spends the rest of Rebecca's shower staring at her watch, counting along with the second-hand.
Rebecca finishes her shower at 7:00 PM and looks surprised to see Riza awake. Perhaps she thought that Riza, who was now sure she looked terrible and exhausted, would have taken the silence brought on by her shower to sleep instead of ruminating on the dark susceptibilities of nice men.
Rebecca makes a noise and Riza looks at her. Rebecca is not dressed for bed. "Well, Riza, I gotta be honest with you, babe, I didn't really expect you to still be awake. Why are you awake? You look like death, if 'm being honest."
Riza shrugs, "I didn't try to sleep. Why're you dressed up?"
Rebecca smiles in a guilty way. "I told you, I didn't technically plan to pick you up, I just happened to find you. I kinda planned a date tonight." Rebecca immediately cringes, evidently thinking Riza would be affronted to be viewed as second priority to her date. "Not that I won't totally cancel if you don't want me to go!"
"No, go. Honestly 'Becca, I don't want to talk to you."
Rebecca's face collapses for a second before she reconstructs it. Riza is confused for a second before realizing how unkind her words are. Riza tries to bring herself to care that she hurt her best friend's feelings. She used to care about hurting her best friend's feelings. "Rebecca – "
"No, it's okay. I get it, you're caught up in," Rebecca makes some vague hand gestures. "But hey! Why don't you just –erm – clean yourself up a bit and we can go out together!" Rebecca finishes on a smile.
"Rebecca why would you want me to come on your date?"
"Well, maybe not for the date, but Riza you don't need to feel obligated to stay cooped up in here! It's your first day back from wa-work! Go out and I don't know… celebrate? Get fucked up! God knows that the other soldiers are celebrating being back home. Just yesterday, I was in The Red Lion – that's a bar about two blocks from here – and this guy – and I knew he was a soldier because he was just built Riz' like, wow! – So this guy was wasted and – "
Riza stops listening. She actually considers it for a second – going out. Getting fucked up. Other soldiers who had the same experiences, who had to know what she was going through, who had killed people, who were just getting home, they were all getting drunk and celebrating the end of the war. Maybe it was a coping mechanism she hadn't heard about? She could use a coping mechanism. Riza thinks about leaving with Rebecca and drinking away her war-time troubles like those other soldiers. She remembers how her father would drink himself into a stupor when he was feeling especially disagreeable. That was reason enough not to partake. Besides, what would happen? Either she'd drink alone and lose herself in a black out or she'd drink with someone at the bar and spend a night with them, lose herself in their touch. Both ideas make her distinctly uncomfortable. "I think I'll pass on the offer, but thanks Rebecca."
Rebecca looks at her. "Ok, Riza." Rebecca left.
...
Riza stays at Rebecca's apartment. She pretends to be asleep when Rebecca returns and she pretends to be asleep when she feels Rebecca gently places a blanket over her. The city shines through the window in Rebecca's living room and illuminates Riza's watch. She sees that it is 3 AM and she watches the seconds tick by until she falls asleep at 4.
...
Riza wakes up and it is significantly darker outside. She squints at her watch, it reads 5 AM. Riza gets up and goes into the bathroom. Riza looks into the mirror. She does have vomit in her hair, which is longer than she likes and badly kept. Her eyes are red. She is still wearing her uniform; she hasn't even taken off her boots despite being in Rebecca's apartment for about 12 hours. Riza takes off her boots and her clothes and steps into the shower. She turns the dial to the hottest setting. She turns away from the spray so that it hits her back, her tattoo. The water is icy when it first comes down, but it gradually becomes hot enough that she yelps in pain. Her body forces her to turn it cooler. She wonders if Roy's fire would hurt the same way when he burns her back.
Riza suddenly realizes she had no way of reaching Roy. No phone number, no address, no way of making him deliver on his promise. The panic crawling up her throat subsides when she remembers that she can find him through the records at Central Headquarters. She resolves to stop dwelling on him until the time comes.
She lathers soap onto her body and rinses soap off of her body. She feels her ribs sticking out of her chest. This is probably the skinniest she has ever been. This is probably the least attractive she has ever been, she notices, as she steps out of the shower and once again meets her piteous reflection. In a split-second decision, she decides to cut her scraggly hair. She opens Rebecca's medicine cabinet and finds a small pair of scissors. She gathers up a clump of her hair and shears it off. She gathers another clump and another clump and another until her hair is resembling a crew cut once more. The haircut looks clumsy and misshapen but Riza finds the length comforting.
Riza starts to dress and, though her clothes are dirty, she feels cleaner than she has since stepping onto the station. As she drags her pants from her pile of clothes her watch clatters onto the floor, facedown.
Riza scours Rebecca's sparse kitchen and finds a mug and Rebecca's coffee brewer. She takes the coffee onto her guest bed (sofa). Riza looks out of Rebecca's window. The sun peeks out of the city's skyline. It looks rather beautiful, really. Very different from Ishval. Riza ignores the tight feeling in her chest that comes along with the comparison, she is determined to appreciate the moment. Riza glances down at her vacant wrist and notes that, for the first time since leaving Ishval, she doesn't actually know what time it is.
#mine#fullmetal alchemist#fma fic#riza hawkeye#roy mustang#royai#rebecca catalina#ishval#fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood#fma: b#fmab
0 notes
Note
Hi idk if you are looking for fic requests but I always wanted to read a fic of when cyrus told buffy he liked tj and I felt like u would be a good writer for this I've read a bunch of your fics and love them!
hi!! thank you so much for your support!
…
For the past couple of weeks, Cyrus hasn’t been acting like himself. To most people, Cyrus probably appears like his boisterous, joking, self. After all, he still laughs at jokes, pays rapt attention in class, and talks a mile a minute. But Buffy’s known Cyrus for practically their entire lives. She can tell that there’s something a bit off with him.
His eyes don’t match the smiles on his face. Normally, his eyes will be glistening with mirth and happiness, but now Buffy doesn’t notice the smile quite reaching his eyes. He laughs, but the laughs are more robotic and forced than the usual outburst of giggles. He sometimes cuts his ramblings off short and just stares off into the distance for a second before continuing as if nothing happened.
It doesn’t take Buffy much brain power to put two and two together. Of course, she knows about the events of costume day. She knows that Kira’s somehow getting under TJ’s skin because there’s no way that TJ would have thought about ditching Cyrus before. She knew that Cyrus was really upset about the entire situation, but she didn’t realize exactly how deep it went until one day in the cafeteria.
“The chemistry test was brutal,” Cyrus sighs, burying his sorrows into his food. “I think I failed.”
“So, in ‘Cyrusese’, that means you got an -A?” Andi asks to confirm with a snicker. Beside her, Buffy joins in with a bark of laughter.
“Hey, this is a serious matter!” Cyrus complains. “I’m just saying that I think our chemistry teacher–”
Suddenly, he cuts off. His eyes widen and his expression drops into a cold, blank slate. His skin seems to pale in seconds, and he starts fidgeting with the long sleeves of his jacket. Buffy frowns, turning to see what caught his eye. Walking in through the entrance of the cafeteria is TJ Kippen, giggling with his new best friend Kira. Recently, none of them have seen him in the cafeteria. Today is the first time since the incident that they have. And Cyrus…Cyrus has this strange look on this face. It’s not anger or even jealousy really, more just disappointment. In that moment, Buffy truly starts to understand.
“Um…I forgot, I left something in my last class,” Cyrus mutters out of the blue, scrambling to pack up his bag.
“Cyrus–” Andi tries, but he just hurries faster, stuffing everything in his bag before getting up from the lunch table and scurrying out of the cafeteria.
As Cyrus hurries out, the two of them spot TJ watching him with a slight frown. Of course, this doesn’t last long; a few seconds later, Kira tugs at his sleeve with frustration, most likely to get his undying attention again. He simply smiles at her, following her to the lunch line.
“Should we…” Andi asks, motioning toward where Cyrus just left from.
Buffy nods, already preparing herself to follow him.
Knowing the special connection that Buffy and Cyrus have with this type of thing, Andi simply asks, “Make sure he’s okay?”
“I will.”
With that, Buffy gathers her things and gets up from the table herself. Although she isn’t quite sure where Cyrus went, she has an inkling. There’s this big oak tree in front of the school that Cyrus adores, and she has a feeling that he just wants to get away from everything right now.
Sure enough, she finds him there, back leaning up against the scratchy bark. His eyes are closed as if he’s relaxing, but his body remains tense. His backpack is haphazardly thrown off to the side somewhere, and he runs his hands over the top of the grass.
“You’re avoiding TJ,” Buffy says, plain and simple. Despite how easily Cyrus startles, he doesn’t seem surprised to hear Buffy’s voice. He must’ve figured at least one of them would chase after him, but she has a feeling he wishes it were someone else.
“I’m not,” Cyrus protests, but it’s weak.
Buffy sighs, going to sit beside him. She can’t understand how this is possibly comfortable. The bark digs into her back, and the grass tickles her skin. Still, she refuses to go anywhere until they talk this out because that’s what friends do.
“Have you two talked recently?”
Cyrus shrugs, “He’s been busy.”
“Yeah, busy with Kira,” Buffy mutters snidely under her breath.
Cyrus sits up slightly, eyes still downcast. He plucks a piece of grass out of the dirt and splits into miniscule pieces. “Maybe.”
“Why are you not more upset about this?”
“I was at first,” Cyrus admits. “I just…I realized that I don’t want to force TJ to do something he doesn’t want to. I don’t want to be a bad friend to him. If he likes Kira, then he likes her. I’m not going to get in the way of that.”
“Cyrus,” Buffy begins, grasping his shoulder tightly to get his attention. He looks up, dropping the grass pieces onto his pant leg. “It’s okay. You know that, right?”
“But it isn’t,” he disagrees, head hitting the trunk of the tree with a dull thud. Buffy winces at the sound. “I-I don’t know if I can do this again, Buffy. I just recently got over my crush on Jonah. I just feel like a broken record, sometimes.”
“Hey, we talked about this. You are not broken, you are no different. You’re amazing and caring toward everyone, even if they may not deserve it. You always see the good in people, Cyrus Goodman, and TJ would be blind not to see that.”
Cyrus chuckles softly, and his eyes begin to water. Buffy reaches over and wraps an arm around his shoulder. He gratefully sags into her side, head coming to rest in the crook of her neck. Everything out there is peaceful. The leaves rattle above them like echoes in the distance. Cars kick up pieces of gravel and rocks as they drive along the streets. The sun peaks through the branches, sending speckled patterns of light across them.
There’s so much more they both could say, and they know it. But this is enough.
“I love you, Buffy.”
“Love you too, Cy.”
#tyrus#andi mack#tyrus fanfic#tyrus fic#andi mack fanfic#andi mack fic#tj kippen#cyrus goodman#tj x cyrus#cyrus x tj#hurt/comfort#fanfiction#prompts#anwered
113 notes
·
View notes