#if y’all have any other theories surrounding these two or anyone else i am so fucking serious flood my asks im deeply curious

[loveviktor]

theory time for arcane s2:

jayce (if him and vik are alive) breaks his promise to vik and not only just doesn’t destroy the hexcore, but uses it to save vik, and then is the main reason for why vik becomes the glorious evolution person he’ll be.

jayce already felt like he let viktor down by not being there with him in the lab when he passed out. and then he was trying to find ways to help him heal, but was getting wrapped up in the political scene and all. so i feel like he’s definitely gonna be like, im not failing him again, (also this would be one of jayce’s few times making a decision for himself again) and then there we have it folks, jayce ends up not only saving vik, but turning him into someone almost unrecognizable.

arcane writers have such a way with parallels and showing that despite people having good intentions, things can still go horribly awry {read: episode three of s1 :) }

~ edit ~

also just realized that if this happened, the moment towards the end of the season where jayce stopped vik from jumping would be foreshadowing.

AND, knowing jayce & vik’s lore for lol, it would be suchhh a twist if jayce decided to mechanize a unconscious viktor. jayce in lore is someone who has this concern over what’s ethical when it comes to testing new advancements for people, so to think that he would go against an ethical code (along with breaking vik’s promise) in arcane to save viktor…. we’re soo in for some tragedy especially if this is what leads vik into becoming what he does and the “divorce arc” between the two.

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep13: How to Get Away With Cheating in the Card Olympics

It’s been a little while since Pegasus made a card that screwed us years after it was developed...and so it’s time for it to happen again. Good ol Pegasus, screwing us all and not even knowing he’s doing it.

First off, it took me until this episode to realize that Leon and Zigfried are German and Leon is playing a Grimm Brother’s deck. I guess I didn’t notice before now because Leon was hiding his identity. But now that I know his deck is because he’s just German it’s like...well OK. That’s kind of cute. Better than that time they had the American play a deck filled with guns.

And that actually...fully explains why they are all dressed old timey. I didn’t pick up on it until just now...they’re referencing old ass fairy tales. But wtv, I still like my reaching theories of why Zigfried dresses like...that.

PS, my twitter just notified me that lots of people are getting a ‘Hime Haircut’, which is exactly the doo that Zigfried wears this season with the cropped side bangs. And like...are we sure? I see Kpop wearing it and Tik Tok kids wearing wigs but...I have yet to see a Hime in the wild. Course I haven’t gone outside in like a year so...maybe tens of thousands of people really did do a Hime Haircut during the Quarantine.

But, damn it, I decided to look at some photos, and a bunch of them looked pretty bad, but a couple looked pretty dope, and now I’m a little bit tempted to get a Hime...but I feel like it took a decade to get out of my bangs phase and like...Do I need two layers of bangs? I have naturally straight hair, I could do this, this haircut was made for me, but...

I just don’t know if I should get a haircut that looks like I’m an anime cosplayer when I can’t back it up. Nope. Cannot get this haircut. I know this haircut was made for teenagers or artists in their 30′s, and literally no one else, but no, this will be a mistake just like the side bangs I gave myself in 2006.

(looks over at scissors)

(read more under the cut)

(get it? Cut?)

Leon recalls that his brother very nicely gave him a card, and he’s so excited to finally do any activity involving his crazy ass family, that he just blindly does it.

This entire episode is about Yami not doing a hellscape when he witnesses cheating, and like...it is S5...it’s been a little while since anyone’s done a real good cheat on him, and he opened the door to darkness, and they got devoured by their own Tamagachi. It’s been a while.

And like the curse of Episode 13 was just a theory I had--but this particular Episode 13 is probably the most tame of all the 13′s (and yet, the most un-tame of this arc, which is a pretty chill arc, overall)

Yet...while this episode still fits in with their universe because the Kaiba’s are very proud so they can’t admit their duel disk has a flaw and therefore can’t forfeit the game, it kind of stretches the imagination a bit for the sake of the plot. Straight up we have a LOT of characters in this arc and they all just stood there and watched it happened.

It could have been also because this is like...televised...that no one wants to start throwing this little boy off the nearest blimp. I just wish that was addressed in the episode, other than “listen...Kaiba must allow this card to be played...or all his Duel Disks are lies.”

His Duel Disk almost caused the end of planet Earth a few weeks back, so I think it’s fine. I think this is a negligible problem to have when your disk shoots projectiles out of each end and has sharp folding edges in the shape of a blade--almost attempting to slice your face off every time you wave that thing around.

Yes, he’s trying to restore his reputation after the whole Dartz thing...but this is like...not that bad in the scale of things that have happened in the past several seasons. Maybe it’s just the last straw that broke the camels back here? One thing too far--’your disk played a broke card, Kaiba, I am pulling my investments and I refuse to go to your theme parks. I was here when you blew up that island. I was here when your company was literally bought out by the illluminati...but if that duel disk can’t play cards correctly--we’re done here.’ And TBH...that’s a very Yugioh mentality to have.

Like remember that time that Elon musk threw a brick at one of his new weird looking cars and the windshield cracked? But he was like “Oh...that was just a...listen the windshields don’t shatter, you saw nothing.” and still released the car anyway? Was kind of reminded of that.

Now...he didn’t actually go into the Dev room, we’ll go into how the hell he got this card, but first, a visit to the Kaiba Dev room.

OOOOOOooooooooh

That’s so bright!

It reminds me of how in the 90′s, the only real thing I knew to do on my computer was change the colors of the UI, so I just used the ugliest ass UI known to man for my family’s computers. I hope these computers have a mouse that leaves a tail behind and I hope that mouse is in the shape of a flying sparkling dragon.

Anyway, Duke speaks what’s on our minds:

Meanwhile, Pegasus, watching this happen over a glass of wine from inside his bathtub at Castle Pegasus, takes one very long sip while sinking into a pile of bubbles.

Seto at first is like “I literally own this tournament so thanks for losing? I don’t know why you threw it out into the trash but thanks?” But Zigfried pressured him so hard that everyone on Earth would judge his ass, and tried so hard to change the definition of what cheating even is, that Seto relented almost as if to shut Zigfried the hell up.

Zigfried explained that, technically, it’s still reads as a legal card on the disk and isn’t reaaally against the rules. Even though the rules say it’s against the rules--what are rules anyway?

Thankfully we have the King of “I dictate what the rules are AKA the rules of the universe, which I would show you, I just don’t feel like it right now, and I’m a little worried about opening that Pandora’s box, but I clearly know the rules of this card game, as stated on this Home Depot plaque that Seto gave me after I won the last tourney.”

Leon gets pretty upset about this--not so much screwing Seto Kaiba, but over the fact his brother stole his only chance at trying to beat Yugi Muto fair and square. So, trying to retain what little card honor he has left, Leon tries to self sabotage so everyone can just go the hell home.

OK so...do you think he put a floppy disk into the paper card? Like straight up how did he do that? Feel free to post your theories because like...how do you hack a paper card? Like do we even have a canon explanation of what these cards are or what they are made out of and how they theoretically work?

Anyway, now that they’ve spent a good portion of this episode discussing if this card should or should not be played, and the ethics and philosophy surrounding that, we find out that none of this matters because Zigfried was actually just stalling.

(He hacked the card so it had a virus like straight up how did he DO that without making a new card?)

Huh.

Y’all, what if I could just delete Google?

Can you imagine?

Like I know this is a kid’s show so it follows kid’s show logic and I will absolutely allow this ridiculous master plan and I will not question it, but think with me for a sec:

What if you could just delete Disney?

Damn. That’s some Y2K scare tactics propaganda right there. That’s some good YA dystopian fiction stuff.

Yo is Zigfried the good guy? He’s not, but if this were a YA novel he would be, right? Good on him.

I...do not know how the logic in Zigfried’s brain works, but if someone deleted all the files in my collaborators company and showed up at my front door and was like “I heard you were looking for a new collaborator?” I’d stick him face first into a blank paper card.

Which is, logically, the next step to Zigfried’s plan that no one has bothered to tell him yet. You just don’t mess with Pegasus, especially after all the stuff he went though with getting murdered by Mai, and Dartz showing up, he’d be so pissed right now. He might not be technically magical anymore--but it’s clear after last season that he’s still magical enough. This is a man who’s let out into the wild maybe a couple of scary cards--but hell knows how many are buried in his huge ass castle just waiting to do a murder.

This is just Zigfried hassling a hornet and the hornets nest is like...right there.

And so next episode we are going to...destroy the card? Hell, next episode might be entirely a card game and I might only have 2 caps.

Anyway, just letting you know that I typed this last night, and then had dreams that I got a Hime Haircut and hella loved it, woke up at 5:30 AM thinking about that haircut, and have since been just...

...I mean I shouldn’t do it...I cannot give myself unironic Von Schroeder hair...

...

...but what if it’s dope though?

(and here’s the link to read these from the beginning in chrono order from S1. Wish I categorized in seasons but alas I did not have that forsight back when I thought there were only 3 seasons of Yugioh total. I have since learned.)

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[buckthegrump]

Whenever You’re Ready

Summary: Bucky lost the love of his life three years ago and he’s still trying to figure out how to deal with that. But that gets harder when he gets an unexpected visitor.

Warnings: Mentions of death, angst, so much angst, fluff, a whole lot of feelings y’all 

Word Count: 6.2k

A/n: I had this thought and needed to write it

“I’m sorry, sir,” the officer said, “We have reason to believe that -”

Bucky stopped listening after the officer said ‘I’m sorry’. The words ‘I’m sorry’ were never followed by good news. Or even just neutral news, it’s almost exclusively followed by bad news. Especially when the ‘I’m sorry, sir’ comes from a doctor or a police officer.

But it didn’t matter that Bucky had stopped listening because he knew what they were about to say. They were going to tell him that they couldn’t find her body and that they were presuming her dead. But she couldn’t be dead. Y/n had promised that she wouldn’t die on him.

“We also lost his trail,” the officer finished.

“What?” Bucky’s head snapped up.

“He disappeared.”

* * *

Bucky sat up. The room was dark and silent. He glanced at the clock already knowing what time it was 1:35 am. The exact time that he was told that his fiance had been killed. No, not killed. Murdered.

It was the same dream, same memory, every year on the same day and he woke up at the exact same time. He was positive that no matter how many years passed it would be the same. He didn’t know if it would be worse if it was a happy memory that reminded him of what he was missing, or if he should be glad he was stuck with the worst night of his life.

The dream happened for months after and then it slowed to once a month until it only happened on the day.

He could roll over and try to fall back asleep but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. He threw the covers off of him exposing his legs to the cool air of the room. He got up and made his way to the bathroom.

The water from the shower was as hot as it could possibly be. The hope was that it would get so hot it would burn away the pain, but nothing he tried was taking away the pain. The grief group he went to was just starting to make the pain a little less but -

Hours passed and the once nearly boiling water turned to ice against his back. All he wanted was to stay in the shower but he was meeting friends soon.

At 9:30 Bucky got into his car and drove to the cafe. Sam and Steve were waiting for him when he walked in. His friends decided that day when Bucky found out that he shouldn’t be alone on that day and so every year on that day, they would take the day off and spend all day together.

Sam was the first one to spot Bucky, he smiled and waved. 

“You were almost late, Barnes,” Sam said calling Steve’s attention to the new arrival.

“Well,” Bucky said as he sat down in the empty chair at the table, “I don’t think I could be late anywhere.”

Sam and Steve chuckled slightly at this. They remember the countless fights that Y/n and Bucky got into about being late versus showing up at least five minutes early. Y/n won and now ever since Bucky’s been on time for everything.

“How are you doing, Buck?” Steve asked. Bucky shrugged. “Did you have the dream again?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered. “I pulled out one of her dresses the other day, it doesn’t smell like her anymore. And I’m having trouble remembering the last time I told her that I loved her. But the day I found out she was dead -” he laughed humorlessly, “that day I can remember perfectly. It’s really fucked up when you think about it.”

Sam began talking about one thing or another and the conversation started flowing easily. And for a while, Bucky’s heart didn’t feel as heavy as he knew it was but it was nice to feel lighter.

After their coffee, they all went to watch a movie that ended up being terrible. It was about a man who didn’t know the ‘real’ value of life until his wife left him and took the kids. Sam leaned over and whispered snarky comments in Bucky’s ear. Bucky only heard about half of them, the ones he did hear were rather funny.

But Bucky couldn’t help but think about how lucky this guy was that he got a second chance. That he was able to go back to his wife and tell him everything on his mind, and Bucky would give anything to have that chance.

* * *

After the movie, Bucky got into his car and when he looked into the rearview mirror he saw Y/n. He gasped and looked out the windshield and then back into the mirror but she was no longer there. He let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s your problem?”

Bucky’s head snapped to his passenger seat where Y/n sat. She was looking at him.

“What?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

He turned back toward the wheel of the car and started driving.

“Did I do something?” She asked clicking her seatbelt into place. “Are you mad at me? Is it because I said that Star Wars isn’t as revolutionary as Legally Blonde? Because I’m right I don’t know why you’re trying to fight it, I’m always right? Also, do you think Firefly might be overrated? Because I have a theory that if they had more seasons it would’ve been one of those shows that started out great but then just ended terribly.”

Bucky gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he could. His bottom lip was shaking and every breath felt like it might be his last. She continued to talk like this was an everyday occurrence. Like Bucky hadn’t been slowly dying from the inside out because the love of his life, his soulmate had left him to live in this world without her.

“Ok, baby blue,” the nickname made Bucky tear up, “what is up? Is this because of the Star Wars thing? Or have you changed your mind about marrying me?”

“Never,” he whispered. He glanced over at her half afraid that once he acknowledged her she would disappear. She was still there beaming at him with her wild eyes that sparkled and her hair pulled back in two french braids.

“Good, because I was thinking about some things that should happen for the wedding,” Y/n continued to talk wedding the rest of the way home.

At every turn, Bucky was sure that she would vanish but she didn’t, she just talked and didn’t mind that Bucky wasn’t saying much of anything (which wasn’t too different than when she was alive). He was just going to see this time as a gift. Live in this fantasy for the rest of the day because there was no way that this would continue after he fell asleep.

While Bucky was getting ready for bed Y/n sat in bed and watched him.

“Wow,” she said in her best Owen Wilson voice, “My fiance is hot as fuck.”

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. He climbed into bed, he laid on his stomach head faced towards the ghost of his dead fiancee.

“Goodnight gumdrop,” he muttered.

“Sleep tight, baby blue,” she whispered and Bucky could’ve sworn that he felt her kiss his forehead.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Bucky Barnes fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

The first thing that registered was a horn blaring past him. He blinked his eyes a few times trying to figure out what was happening. He was in his car stopped on the side of the road off of US 26. It was dark outside and he was on the portion of the highway that was surrounded by a forest.

He looked to his passenger seat but just like he suspected Y/n wasn’t there. The more concerning issue was; how did he get here? And why was it 2 am?

He chalked it up to sleepwalking and drove back home. He flopped back into bed instantly going back to sleep.

* * *

Bucky spent most of his day at work on autopilot, but that was no different than any other godforsaken day. Tony, his business partner, barged into his office an hour before quittin’ time.

“What do you want Stark?” Bucky asked not taking his eyes off the screen.

“I was thinking about something the other day,” Tony paced in front of Bucky’s desk, “I know we mostly work with veterans who are dealing with PTSD but we should set up a foundation that also helps with the spouses and the significant others of vets or people who died overseas.”

Bucky froze before actually looking at Tony. He didn’t say anything so Tony, being a babbler, started to babble.

“I mean we could open it up to everyone else that lost someone because I know that you had a tough time coming back to work, and it’s ridiculous that society puts a time limit on grieving. So I was thinking that we set those up. And before you ask yes I was a little apprehensive about bringing this up to you because I wasn’t sure how you would react -”

“I like it,” Bucky cut him off.

“Good, because I kind of already set the plan in motion.” Tony gave him a thumbs up and promptly left the office.

This wasn’t an unusual thing, Tony having an idea and setting it in motion before consulting with Bucky. Luckily over the years, Bucky had gotten good at retroactively putting things to a stop when needed.

Bucky really did like the idea of setting up another foundation that helped people with the grieving of a lost loved one and mentally kicked himself for not coming up with the idea himself.

* * *

Bucky had snagged a coveted seat on the light rail train that ran through the city. It wasn’t a subway because it wasn’t underground, which Bucky (and most of the people in the city) found ridiculous because that meant when it got too hot outside the train was only able to go so fast.

And being the end of July the annual heatwave was rolling into town. The AC on the train was only doing so much during rush hour and people were packed in tight.

Bucky was doing his very best to ignore the discomfort by reading a book, but the book was getting boring and had recycled the same plotline about three times now and he was only halfway through. 

Just as he was closing the book the train came to an abrupt stop and someone fell into his lap.

She looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Sorry,” she grimaced.

And it felt like the whole world froze. There was no one else in the world but them and she literally took his breath away with one word. He was certain he’d never seen anyone quite as beautiful as she, just as he was sure he would never find someone more beautiful.

“It’s ok,” he breathed. “I’m Bucky.”

She smiled at him and Bucky’s heart nearly burst out of his chest. “Y/n.”

“So,” he was very conscious of the fact that she hadn’t moved out of his lap, “do you make it a habit of falling into people’s laps?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Is it working?”

She chuckled softly and got out of his lap. “If it was, how do you see this conversation ending?”

“Best case scenario?” He asked and she nodded. “Exchanging numbers and dinner plans.”

She pulled out her phone, quickly unlocked it, and handed it over to Bucky. “Let me apologize for literally falling into your lap.”

“There’s really no need to apologize,” he said as he took her phone and put his number in.

When he handed it back she typed something in then looked back at him. “This is my stop. I’ll see ya around Bucky.”

Bucky watched dumbstruck as she hopped off the train at the stop. A second after she disappeared into the crowd his phone buzzed. An unknown number had texted him a simple message: Y/n Y/l/n.

* * *

The next time Bucky saw Y/n was when he went to get after-work drinks with Tony, Steve, and Sam. It had been a month since the anniversary and the next day Tony and Bucky were launching their new foundation.

Steve was telling a story about a date he’d had recently and Tony and Sam were just taking the piss out of him for everything that he’d done wrong on the date.

Bucky looked up in the middle of the story and found Y/n standing next to the jukebox staring at the options. She turned her head towards him and smiled. He blinked and when he opened his eyes she was gone.

He didn’t see her again for the rest of the night.

But the next morning around 5 am, a full hour before he would get up to go to the gym, he woke up on the side of the road again. It was the same spot as the last time. As Bucky drove home he kept his eyes peeled for any hit and runs, he wasn’t sure what he would do if he ended up hitting someone with his car while he sleepwalked.

* * *

Her skin was soft beneath his fingers as he drew lines across her skin. She let out a sigh as she slept next to him soundly. Bucky had woken up with the sun on that particular Saturday and he knew for a fact that Y/n would be pissed if he woke her up.

So he laid there with her and watched her sleep. He pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder and she shifted so she now she was laying on her side with her nose nuzzled into her pillow.

“Y/n, are you awake?” He asked softly. He smiled when she didn’t answer. “You don’t know this yet, but I’m going to propose to you. I don’t know when or how but I have the ring. I think you’ll like it, and I hope you say yes. God, I have no idea what I’ll do if you say no. Please don’t say no.”

She continued to sleep soundly, breathing deeply. He brushed his thumb across her eyebrow. The only time she looked this at peace was when she was sleeping, or after Bucky had shown her what she did to him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

A few seconds later she groaned and made the same noise she always did when she woke up, a small whimper that her night’s sleep was over. She opened an eye and looked at him.

“Were you watching me sleep again?” She asked in a hoarse voice. Bucky h’mmed in response. “You fuckin’ creep.”

“Oh yeah, because I’ve never caught you watching me sleep,” he chuckled.

“Uhh, when I watch you sleep it’s to make sure that you’re still breathing. Some times you’re sleeping so deeply I’m afraid that you’re dead,” she argued fully awake now. “Please don’t die on me.”

Not caring that neither of them had brushed their teeth yet, he kissed her lips softly. “I won’t as long as you promise to wait until we’re both well into our 80s or 90s.”

“Deal, but I hope you know that when I do die, I’m going to come back and haunt your ass so you’ll never actually be able to get over me and date someone else. I’m selfish like that.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Bucky admitted.

“Well, when you say things like that it makes me feel bad for finding Sam really attractive. I hope you know that if you break your promise, I’m definitely turning to him for comfort and then we’ll fall in love and have a million babies,” she teased.

“Oh, a million babies?”

“Oh yeah, one million babies, and they’d be so much cuter than any babies you and I would have.” She smiled smugly until Bucky poked her sides and started tickling her. She giggled. “No!” 

“Take it back!” 

But she didn’t she just kept laughing and swatting at his hands. After a minute or two, he stopped and kissed her again. He paused and looked at her, really looked at her in the morning sunlight that peaked through the drapes of their bedroom window. He leaned over to his nightstand and opened the drawer and dug around for something.

“What are you doing?” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. Bucky turned around holding a ring. It was simple enough, it was a white gold band with a blue sapphire with two smaller diamonds on either side of it but the gems on the ring were huge. “What are you doing?” She repeated.

“I have been waiting for the right time, the perfect time to do this but I realized that when doesn’t matter. The perfect time wouldn’t make a difference, what matters is the person. You might not be a perfect person but neither am I, but you are the perfect person for me. So Y/n, I’m breaking one of your rules and asking you a question before breakfast,” he extended his arm slightly so the ring was closer to her, “Will you marry me?”

Y/n gasped shakily as tears welled up in her eyes. “Yes, of course!”

Bucky took her left hand and slid the ring on her finger, thanking the heavens that it fit. He stared at the ring as it sat on her finger.

“Are you not going to kiss me or anything?” Y/n asked snapping Bucky out of his daze.

“Neither of us have brushed our teeth and your morning breath is so bad -”

“My mom just called, she says that I can’t marry you.”

Bucky shook his head at his fiancee. “Shut up,” he chuckled and kissed her.

* * *

One Saturday, early January, Bucky was eating his cereal staring at Y/n or her ghost or whatever she was.

“Can I help you?” She asked cocking her head to the side.

“Are you a ghost?” He asked.

“You already know what I am, Barnes,” she answered solemnly. “You’re just afraid of what it means if you’re right.”

“But if you’re a hallucination,” his voice broke as he spoke, “that means you’re not real.”

“If I was real then you wouldn’t be keeping the fact that you can see me a secret?” She leaned back in her chair.

“I could just have a fever,” he reasoned.

“You’ve been seeing me off and on for months. If your fever had lasted this long you’d probably be dead,” she propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand.

“So what’s wrong with me?” He asked, cereal long forgotten.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged then gasped. “Maybe I’m a vision from a god or some higher power. Here to tell you that you’re missing something.”

“But what would I be missing?” Tears began to fall down his face.

“Do you not miss me?”

“I miss you every goddamn day but there’s not much I can do about that.” There was a brief silence and Bucky found himself wishing that she was actually something he could touch, not an uncommon wish for him. “I should go see a doctor, shouldn’t I?”

Y/n gave him a sad smile and Bucky pulled out his phone.

* * *

Y/n was sitting on the couch with Bucky, her legs on his lap and he was going over something that Tony had sent him. Bucky was petting her legs.

“Why are you petting my legs like a dog?” She asked pulling one of her headphones out of her ear. “You know I’m not into pet play.”

Bucky stopped his movements and glared at her. “Must you make everything dirty?”

She grinned. “Yes.”

Bucky shook his head and put the stack of papers down on the coffee table. He crawled over so his head was on Y/n’s stomach without missing a beat she started running her fingers through his hair. He moaned at the feeling and closed his eyes.

“What are you listening to?” He asked his voice muffled but the fabric of her shirt and her tummy.

“The podcast My Favorite Murder,” she said. “If you just gave it a chance you might enjoy it.”

“Why are you so obsessed with true crime?”

“Well if I’m prepared for it then I have a better chance of surviving and listening to how fucked up people are, helps me learn what to do if I’m ever in that situation.”

He chuckled softly, he lifted his head and looked at her. “You realize the chances of you getting murdered are very slim right? Besides, I’ll protect you if that ever becomes a real possibility.”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes, “You’re very strong and manly. Will you please just listen to this one story about people who live on an island and one of the couples shares a pair of stainless steel teeth?”

Bucky didn’t really have that much of an interest in true crime, but he’d be lying if he said that story didn’t sound interesting.

“Fine, but just that one story,” he said, “You’re not going to hook me on this.”

He lied, she got him hooked on that podcast and any time they came out with a new episode they either listened to it together or texted the other if they were apart.

* * *

Bucky was listening to the podcast that Y/n had gotten him hooked on. He was sitting in the waiting room for the doctor and Y/n was in the chair across from him watching him closely. He was doing his best to just listen to the podcast but her stare was making that hard.

“Barnes?” A nurse called. 

Bucky sprung up from his seat and followed the nurse back into the exam room.

“Bucky Barnes,” the doctor greeted when she walked in.

“Dr. Cho,” Bucky greeted.

“What seems to be the problem?” She asked settling into the office chair in the room.

“I keep seeing my dead fiancee,” he said bluntly.

Dr. Cho pursed her lips and nodded her head. “Are you sleeping well?”

“Yeah,” he said completely forgetting about the sleepwalking he’s been doing.

“How long has it been going on?” She asked making a note in her chart.

“It’s off and on for a few months.”

“But not all the time?”

“No.”

Dr. Cho sighed. “Well, it might be a psychological thing if that’s the case the next plan of action would be to see a psychiatrist.”

“And another option?” Bucky asked though he already knew the answer.

“That you have some sort of brain tumor,” she answered and Bucky’s entire body sagged, “So I will schedule you for an MRI, but I would also like fo you to talk to someone.”

Bucky nodded silently agreeing with her.

After he got home that day he looked into some highly rated therapists and when he talked to his friends about it they all had suggestions for him.

* * *

The hauntingly familiar sound of a horn blaring startled Bucky awake again. He was sitting in his car that was idling with the radio playing quietly. The clock in his car told him it was 4 am. When he looked around he noticed that it was the same part of 26 that it usually was.

He really needed to find a way to stop himself from sleep-driving.

* * *

The room was eerily quiet. Bucky picked at his jeans pretending to rid them of pieces of fluff that didn’t exist. He’d been sitting in this room for almost half an hour silently, other than the initial hellos.

“You won’t know if this works until you talk to me and we are able to start a discussion,” Maria Hill, his new therapist told him.

“I know, I just don’t know where to start,” he said.

“Start from the beginning.”

So he did. He told her the story of how he met Y/n and falling in love with her and then proposing. He only wavered a bit when it came to the birthday party he’d planned for you.

* * *

“Are you sure you sent her the right time?” Natasha asked.

“Yes,” Bucky answered.

Natasha had asked that question about five times and it didn’t matter that Bucky had shown her the text that said he’d told Y/n to meet him at the restaurant at 6:30. Nor did it matter that Y/n had texted at 5 saying ‘hey love, I’m going to be a little late the meeting is running long and I still have to talk to some people afterward.’  

No, none of that mattered to Natasha who was nervous that Y/n would hate the surprise.

Bucky had set up a dinner for Y/n’s birthday. She thought it was just going to be her and him but Bucky had also invited all their friends because Y/n had started complaining that they didn’t all hang out together anymore.

Natasha was th only one who was worried for the first ten minutes of Y/n not showing up. After that everyone started to get more and more concerned about her unusual tardiness. Until they all decided to call the cops.

* * *

“They didn’t believe us at first,” Bucky told Maria. “They said that we had to wait 48 hours before we could officially file a missing person’s report. But we knew. It didn’t matter to them that Y/n was never late and if she was she would’ve called or texted. They thought she was running from me.”

Maria was quiet as Bucky took a tissue to blow his nose. 

“They never found her body either, isn’t that just a kick in the nuts?” Bucky laughed sardonically. “And the last thing I told her to her face was ‘just so you know you lost the game’ which might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Maria gave him a confused look. “The game?”

“It’s this thing where once you start playing the game you can never stop and the way to win the game is by not thinking about it but once you think about it you’ve lost the game,” Bucky explained.

“That’s counter-intuitive.”

“That’s the game.” Bucky shrugged. “I’ve also been seeing her.”

“Natasha?”

“No, Y/n. Not all the time but sometimes. We talk and I know it’s crazy but I like being able to talk to her again.” Bucky bounced his leg as he thought for a moment. “I’ve also been sleepwalking. More like driving.”

“What?” Maria looked shocked.

“Not all the time, but sometimes I’ll wake up to find myself in my car stopped on the side of the road. It’s the same spot every time, I never hit anyone or anything as far as I can tell.”

“Well, there are ways to get around sleepwalking maybe have a friend spend the night to stop you from getting into your car, set up an alarm system, I can send you a list of what some of my other clients have found helpful.”

* * *

A week after his therapy appointment Bucky was in the hospital for his MRI. 

It wasn’t until he was in the machine when he heard her voice.

“I hope you still have that amazing insurance because MRIs are not cheap,” she said and Bucky held back the urge to roll his eyes, “Are you ignoring me because you don’t want to look crazy in front of the doctors? Because you know that they know why you’re here right? They already know you’re crazy.”

As Bucky lay there for the rest of the scan Y/n sang a song that had been stuck in Bucky’s head for the past week. When he came out of the machine she was standing there in the corner of the room. He didn’t say anything but he made eye contact with her.

“You’re still missing it,” she said. He furrowed his brows at her. “Bucky you’re missing it.”

An hour later Bucky was sitting in front of a neuro doctor.

“There’s nothing showing up on the MRI,” Dr. Banner told him, “Medically? You are fine, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

* * *

It happened again. He woke up on the side of the road in his idling car. But this time the sun was just beginning to rise. Bucky slammed his hands against the steering wheel before turning his car around to head back home.

He was about halfway home when something realized something. It was what Y/n had told him about missing something.

Every time he’d woken up on the side of the road it was after he’d seen Y/n. That’s the only time he’d sleepwalked was the night after all of the hallucinations. Which made him wonder, why that particular spot?

He could’ve gone home and just ignored his thought for the rest of the day but that might actually kill him.

He flipped a u-y and drove back to the spot. He pulled over on the shoulder. When he got out of the car he took a few deep breaths. 

Not really knowing what he was going to find or if he was going to find anything be began walking through the forest.

“This is the part of the horror movie where I die because I’m walking through a forest because a hallucination told me to. If Y/n could see you now she’d kill you for being stupid. Also if you get murdered they are definitely going to make fun of you on all the podcasts for being a complete idiot,” he mumbled to himself as he stumbled through the foliage and brush of the forest floor.

He walked for about a mile or two before he came across a small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“What the hell?” He whispered to himself.

Then someone from inside the cabin let out an ear-piercing scream. Bucky finally had a logical thought and pulled out his phone to call 911. They told him to stay on the phone with him and they were sending units to him.

The screaming had stopped and Bucky almost went into the cabin. It was only a few minutes later when he heard the sirens and the officers came and two pairs walked over to the cabin and went in. Bucky was standing next to an officer who was told to wait with him.

There was a gunshot, not long after one of the officers made a call over the radio for an ambulance because there was a girl in the cabin who needed medical attention.

The officer that hung around with Bucky took his statement as they waited for the ambulance. Giving the statement to the officer was a blur and he tried to find a way to tell the officer that visions of Y/n had led him here without actually telling him that.

When the EMTs made it through the forest the ‘girl’ was escorted out of the cabin and Bucky’s heart dropped. There was a woman walking with the officer who looked so much like Y/n but her hair was unkempt and looked like she hadn’t eaten in years.

But then her eyes met his.

“James?” 

“Y/n?” He asked and his voice broke. Bucky didn’t wait for her to answer again as he ran over to her, how he managed not to trip over anything was a mystery to him. He stopped right in front of her. “Is that really you?”

Y/n let go of the officer and lifted her hands to his cheeks. She gently touched his face and he leaned into her touch. He was almost sure that at any moment he was going to wake up from this dream to an empty bed.

“You found me,” Y/n whispered before collapsing into Bucky’s arms.

* * *

Bucky sat next to her hospital bed and watched her. He was afraid that she would disappear. But he could touch her, he could feel her again. But he wouldn’t. Not until she made the first move, he wouldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do, he didn’t even know what’d happened in there.

The detectives that had come around informed him that any number of things could’ve happened during those three years and she would be a very different person now. That she would need countless hours of counseling.

Y/n had been unconscious since she fainted outside the cabin. Bucky knew he should call everyone, tell them that Y/n was alive, but he also knew that they would all want to come and see her so he settled for the two people who needed to know. Tony, because there was no way in hell Bucky was going into work today or anytime this week. And Natasha, because Nat would kick his ass if he kept this from him. 

Everyone else could wait until Y/n woke up and was ready for visitors.

* * *

Natasha had come in an hour after Bucky called and cried into his shoulder. She’d stayed for a while before Bucky told her to go home and that he would call her the instant Y/n woke up. Natasha had been reluctant at first but agreed because it didn’t look like Y/n was going to wake up anytime soon.

Which wasn’t true because an hour after Natasha left Y/n’s eyes fluttered open. She looked over to find Bucky wide awake watching her sleep.

Y/n gave him the smallest of smiles that somehow still took his breath away.

“You were watching me sleep,” she croaked.

“I thought you were dead -” he stared and had an apology on the tip of his tongue but she cut him off.

“Don’t apologize for not looking for me,” she ordered.

“But -”

“No,” she said firmly. “You were working with what you had.”

“How ok are you? Scale from one to ten.”

“If one is I’m dead, I’m gonna go with a one-point-five.” A tear fell from her eye and Bucky wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. Her lip began to tremble. “Um, he uhh -”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bucky cut her off. “Not yet.”

There was a silence that Bucky didn’t know if he should fill or not. He knew what he wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t sure if he should if it would be what she wanted to hear.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want me anymore,” she told him. “I know that three years isn’t really a long time but if you don’t -”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, gumdrop,” he told her and a sob escaped her lips. “I’d go get you another ring tonight. I meant what I said when I told you that you are the perfect person for me. And I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But baby blue, I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was. I’ve done things -”

“Y/n, neither of us are the same person we were three years ago. And whatever you did, kept you alive,” he said, he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “So yeah, we have some stuff to work out but my heart belongs to you and you alone. And I’m not giving up on you.”

Y/n reached out her hand for Bucky and he took it. Her frail hands wrapped around his one, they were cold. He could only imagine the rest of her body was just as cold.

“You still wanna marry me?” She asked softly.

“Do you still want to marry me?” He pulled over a chair not removing his hand from hers and sat down.

She nodded. “But I’m not ready to. Does that make sense? Like, I wanna be ready.”

“I would wait forever for you,” he told her.

“So you lied,” she sighed and he furrowed his brows at her. “Clearly, you couldn’t have changed that much you’re still the cheesiest person on the face of the planet.”

Bucky scoffed and pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. “Promise me you’ll let me know if you don’t want me to do something. Like if I touch you in a way you don’t like, you have to let me know. I never want to be the reason you’re in pain.”

“Ok,” she whispered. “Where’s everyone else?”

“I only called Natasha and Tony today because I wasn’t sure how you would react to a room full of people wanting to see you. I can call them if you want and get them here.”

“Not yet, I haven’t seen you in three years,” she played with his fingers. She hadn’t let him go as if she had been touch starved for so long.

“Ok, whenever you’re ready.”

And yes they had things that they would have to work out together and individually, but Bucky meant it when he said that he wasn’t going to give up on her.

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Four

Leandra and Melissa sat at the cafe table with Robyn and she told them about her conversation with Chris. 

“So he’s got you thinking exactly what we’ve been telling you all these years,” Melissa mused.

“No, he just has me questioning if there was something in my marriage that I missed,” Robyn replied.

“I think you should meet him, Robs,” Leandra interjected, “you two seem to have a really good understanding.”

“No, we have a good thing going. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I don’t think you want to be happy.”

“I do want to be happy but on my own terms. And I’m not ready. Talking to him made me think about my ex and just reminded me that I really still love him. And I don’t want to. I swear I don’t want to but something has this hold on me and-”

“We get it. Y’all were together for a long time.”

“It’s not just that. It’s- you ever meet someone and you just know that they’re it? Well he was it for me.”

“So what do you call this thing with Christian?”

“A friendship. I have no interest in making it more than that.”

“You ever been to therapy?”

“I tried it for a few weeks but I didn’t get anywhere.”

“Maybe you should try it again.”

“I don’t know.”

“Robyn, do you like being miserable or something? Is that the only thing still connecting you to Chris? Because if not, I don’t understand your apprehension to getting better.”

“I want to get better, I’m just scared of what that means.”

“Well Sis, you’ll never find out until you try.”

Robyn sat back in her office after returning from lunch with Leandra and Melissa. She didn’t have any appointments until 3 unless any emergencies came in so she had time to just think. She grabbed her phone and went to her dating app

A: Are you available to talk?

A few minutes went by before she got an answer

C: Sure, I just finished my last class. What’s up?

A: My friends think I should go to therapy

C: Ok. What do you think?

A: I’m not ready.

C: Why do you think that?

A: I don’t want to spill my guts to a stranger. Not when there’s someone who deserves it more

C: Deserves what? Your anger or your feelings?

A: My anger

C: So tell that person

A: I don't know where he is

C: So find him. I doubt your ex-husband was like some CIA type

A: Lol, no but I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him either

C: Do you ever think you’ll be ready?

A: I’m not sure

C: I think you’re thinking about it too much. Honestly, therapy should be for you and no one else. If you aren’t ready you won’t do anything but waste your money because you’ll fight everything at every turn. Nothing penetrates if you aren’t ready to hear it. And even if the therapist does happen to get through to you, it will not give you the closure that you’re seeking. The questions you want answers to, only your ex-husband can answer

A: I hate that you’re right.

C: Lol, there’s a lot of trauma that influences this rightness

A: Unfortunately. How are you? Was rude of me not to ask that first

C: You had something important to say, no worries. I’m fine. I was talking to my daughter and she wants a puppy

A: What kind?

C: Not sure yet. We’re gonna do some research before we make a decision

A: That’s good. I’ve had a lot of puppies be sent to my shelter because people didn’t pick the right dog for their lifestyle

C: That must suck. Do you have any pets?

A: No, I’m not home enough

C: Ah, understandable

A: would the puppy be your first pet?

C: No, I had a dog when I was a child but in my old profession, me and my ex were never home enough, it was always something with either my job or hers

A: That’s understandable. 

C: You ready for your gala?

A: Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No. I’m working on convincing myself not to cancel

C: Is it really that hard?

A: Yes but I made a promise to my employees and stuff so I really do want to honor that

C: Do you need another incentive?

A: Depends on what you’re suggesting

C: How about a gift? Just for your effort of going to this event

A: And how am I supposed to get said gift?

C: I can mail it. Do you have a secure mailing address you would like me to send it to?

Robyn thought about her random PO Box that she uses when she doesn’t want to give out her work or home address.

A: PO Box 124, New York, NY 10003. Do I get to know what the gift is beforehand?

C: Nope. I’ll send it and make sure it arrives the morning of your gala. Think that’ll work?

A: I guess but I’m nervous about what it could be

C: You’ll see

A: And do you have a secure mailing address?

C: PO Box 762, Middletown, NY 10940

A: Upstate. Do you travel to the city every day or?

C: No, I have a condo near Columbia. I stay during the week then go home on the weekends. 

A: How many hours of a drive?

C: Actually like 2 hours. It gives me some peace from the loud city life and gives my daughter some balance.

A: What’s it like up there?

C: Very spacious. I live in a somewhat rural part of Middletown. I have a couple acres of land surrounding my house.

A: I can’t even imagine what that would look like. Even when I lived in California, I was in the busiest part.

C: I think I appreciate it because I’m older now. I definitely enjoyed living in the city when I was in Cali

A: It holds a beautiful sense of excitement

C: Do you live near your business or far away?

A: I have an apartment nearby but I might start looking for a house soon. Maybe renovate a brownstone

C: That’s always a good deal. Would you rent out?

A: Nah. I don’t have the energy to keep up with being a landlord. It’s a job within itself

C: Very true.

A: I’m guessing you should be going, is your daughter school age?

C: She goes to a headstart program at a private school since she’s only 3 but they keep her until around 5 in aftercare. I usually have a late class today but I canceled it

A: Oh. Is something wrong?

C: No, I’d just rather not be out and about this evening.

A: Ah. Well thanks for talking with me. I got an appointment coming in soon

C: Anything major?

A: Nope. Just a check up

C: Well if you have time, I’d love to talk to you again

A: Talk or chat?

C: Talk

A: My clinic closes at 7 so I should be home by 8

C; And dinner?

A: I’ll probably grab something on the way home

C: So how about a dinner date then? We’ll eat and keep each other company

A: I’d like that

C: Great. See you at 8

A: See you at 8

Robyn closed her app then rested her head on her desk. She was drained.

                                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So what color is her dress? Jessica asked as she and Chris stood in the florist shop. 

“It’s navy blue.”

“I think this corsage would be perfect. It’s simple, elegant and can be pinned to the dress instead of being situated on her wrist.”

Chris walked over the piece his sister was referring to. It contained a navy blue rose, a white rose and some baby breaths, “I like that one.”

“Do they deliver to PO Boxes?”

“Yea, that’s why I picked this shop and it’s fairly close to the Post Office where her PO Box is.”

“Why didn’t you just get her work address?”

“The whole point is to be strangers. Giving me her work address would defeat that purpose. She’s an established vet, I could probably look up her work address and find her, which, again, defeats the point.”

“Do you know what she looks like?”

“Not really. Her photo was a full body shot so the closer you zoom in the blurrier it gets. Same as mine.”

“And that doesn’t worry you? What if she’s ugly?”

Chris laughed, “what does that matter? We don’t ever plan on meeting each other. 

Besides I’m not allowed to be nice to a possibly physically unattractive woman?

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. It’s just- I don’t understand this whole online dating thing”

“There’s nothing to understand because we’re not dating.”

“Yea. Right.”

“We are both in rebuilding stages of our lives and we like talking to each other. That’s all. If I was interested in more, I’d definitely would’ve insisted on meeting her or just moved on by now.”

“You told her about your nervous breakdown and suicide attempt. You haven’t even told your ex-wife that and you want me to believe you’re not dating.”

“Yes because we aren’t.”

“You’re buying her gifts?”

“I buy my friends gifts all the time.”

“You told her about Anesa.”

“And?”

“You talk almost everyday.”

“I’m not seeing your point.”

“My point is you’re dating this woman.”

“Jessica, big sister, I am not dating anyone. I like her, yes but that’s as far as it goes. I need a friend and she’s one for me. That’s it. That’s all.”

“You are so in denial, Chris.”

“I’ve accepted my situation, you’re the one with the conspiracy theories.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t want an ugly sister in law especially not after my last one. She was gorgeous and the point is to upgrade not backslide.”

“You get on my nerves, Jess.”

Jessica laughed, “is this all you’re getting for your friend?”

“Just because you said it like that, I am returning you home and finishing this adventure by myself.”

“Come on, don’t be like that Little Brother.”

“Then stop making this a bigger deal than what it is.”

   This was definitely a big deal. Robyn stared at the box of things Chris had delivered to her PO Box and her heart melted a bit. The flower corsage with navy and white roses was beautiful. She loved the card that came attached but what shook her was the books he had gifted. One night they had stayed up talking about literature and she mentioned that she loved poetry but never had the time to really build up a collection. Wrapped with a red bow were two compilations of black poets. The note under the bow stated, “I’d like to contribute the first books to your poetry collection. It’s always good to start with the essentials (smile).”

Robyn grabbed one of the books and sat down in a chair just as Leandra walked in with her hairstylist beside her.

“What’s all this?” Leandra asked.

“My friend sent me a gift.”

“Your online friend?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, he must really like you.”

“I like him too.”

“Did you send something back?”

“I just got this, this morning so I’m still thinking.”

“How’d he get your address?”

“He doesn't have it. I gave him my PO Box.”

“Oh your stalker box.”

“Don’t start, Lele.”

“So how you feel?”

“I’m ok. I still don’t wanna go.”

“Girl, I ain’t talking about this stupid ass gala. How do you feel about Chris?”

“What am I supposed to feel? I really love the gifts but that’s it”

“I’m looking at your face and it’s more than that.”

“He got me poetry books.”

“What? You found someone to indulge your weird ass literature taste.”

“Look, just because you only like sex books doesn’t make my taste weird. I am cultured.”

“I have a master’s degree too so save it. How’d he know to get that?”

“We had a conversation about books and I told him I always wanted to start a collection of poetry but never had the time nor knew where to start and I guess he remembered.”

“What made him send you a gift?”

“It was a little joke about how he could get me to not back out of the gala. I honestly wasn’t expecting him to go through with it but he did.”

“A man who keeps his word. He really likes you.”

“I know.”

“So...still never gonna meet him in person?”

“That was never part of the deal.”

Leandra groaned as she flopped down on the couch, “are you at least gonna get some from somebody at this gala?”

“Ewww….no. I’m staying at most an hour then coming back home.”

“Have you talked to Chris?”

“Not today.”

“Do you only chat on the app?”

“Yea.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I thought you would’ve gotten his phone number by now.”

“Nah, that’s too personal. I wouldn’t give my number to someone I haven’t met yet.”

“So meet him.”

“No.”

“Ugh….you get on my nerves, Robyn.”

Robyn laughed, “what’s your plans for tonight?”

“Getting the baby from his father and going home.”

“How is my nephew?”

“He’s good.”

“And his father?”

“Still alive, unfortunately.”

“Don’t do Max like that.”

“He gets on my nerves.”

“How?”

“He keeps asking me if we’re getting back together.”

“Aww...Lele, he still loves you.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“And you still love him too. You always playing hard to get.”

“Ch….I am hard to get. Thank you very much.”

“Is that why y’all keep going on vacations together?”

“If a man wants to take me to Puerto Rico or Costa Rica free of charge, who am I to say no?”

Robyn laughed, “Lord, what are we gonna do with you?”

“Love me, duh.”

Leandra stayed until Robyn was ready to leave for the gala. As she climbed into the back of car, she grabbed her phone

A: Hey stranger

A few minutes passed before she received an answer.

C: Hey. How are you?

A: I’m great. On my way to the gala

C: Still decided against an escort?

A: Yea. Besides, I don’t plan on staying there long.

C: Ah ok

A: So….thank you for the gifts. The corsage is perfect for my dress

C: You’re very welcome. My sister helped me pick that out.

A: Tell her I said thank you

C: I will

A: So what are you up to?

C; Laundry and grading work

A: What’s the task this week?

C: Students had to craft an original piece of music modeled after a piece they enjoy so I’ve been listening to music tracks all day

A: How’s it sounding?

C: I’ve gotten a few good ones but what passes for music and what these students are modeling their pieces after is awful. 

A: That bad?

C: Some of these songs just can’t find a key and then when I listen to their reference tracks, I understand why. Music production has gotten so lazy over the years

A: You think so?

C: I’m gonna send you the best one I’ve heard and the worst one and tell me what you think

A: I’m getting homework now too, Professor

C: Lol. I just want you to hear what I’m dealing with

A: Send it. I’ll get back to you when I can

C: No rush. I’ll be home all weekend with this.

A: Cool. How’s the puppy search going?’

C: Good. We’ve narrowed it down to three puppies. I told her she has one week to pick one and then we’ll find a place to buy it.

A: As a shelter owner, please try and get a shelter dog. So many of them are good dogs that were in bad situations.

C: I will keep that in mind.

A: That’s all I ask

C: So what’s your plans after the gala?

A: Home.

C: Up for a video chat?’

A: Absolutely. I kinda miss your automated voice

C: Lol Same here

A: Anything else going on

C: Nope. I live a rather simple life.

A: Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

C: To be honest, I’m not quite sure

A: Something giving you doubts

C: My daughter told me she feels sad for me

A: Aww...why?

C: Because I’m alone. It’s kinda hard to explain to a three year old the difference between alone and lonely

A: Lol true but then don’t explain with words, show her with actions. She probably thinks you don’t have a life and for children, they haven’t commanded the power and beauty of peace and stillness. They still have so much they haven’t explored

C: You have a point

A: Honestly, if you find things to do when she’s not around, she’ll probably feel a bit better about you

C: I’ll have to find me a new hobby then

A: What’s your current hobby?

C: I don’t really have one to be honest. My job involves music now so it’s not really a hobby anymore

A: It could be, it’s not like you make music for your class, do you?

C: Not recently

A; Do you sing, play instruments? What?

C: I have a decent voice but I play the piano, the guitar, and can do alright by the saxophone

A: What type of music do you prefer to play?

C: Nothing like an old school soul song. I love playing Sade records on the sax

A: I might have to compel you to play for me one day

C: I would offer to play tonight but my instruments are in storage

A: No rush. It’s just a thought

C: I’d love to play for you though

A: You making me feel inadequate

C: In what way?

A: The gifts. The music offers. Doesn’t feel like we’re on even footing

C: Well only you know what you have to offer. Find what works. I’m always open for gifts or moments

A: I’m gonna have to think of something. Thank you for the poetry books by the way. It’s a good start of a collection

C: The classics are always your best bet

A: I’m a little surprised you remembered

C: Why? 

A: It was such an odd conversation and it was late when we had it, surely you wouldn’t have remembered it

C: That’s a weird assumption. If there is one thing I’ve learned from being married, it’s learning to listen just as much as you like to talk. Reciprocity is the key.

A: Very true.

C: Are you at the gala yet?

A: Just pulled up

C: Well I hope you have a good night for however long you are there

A: I hope they do the award ceremony first so I can get my award and leave

C: If I gotta try and find a life, you need to live yours. You never know you may enjoy the time

A: We’ll see. Talk to you later

C: Later 

[zankivich]

A few honest questions: if you believe that Shawn is racist and is willfully surrounding himself with other racists, why not leave this fandom? Why reblog photos of him praising his appearance? Why use him as a face claim in your fanfiction? Why not devote your time and energy to someone else?

ayo these are wonderful and absolutely fair questions to ask. I wasn’t in a mental space to answer them when I initially asked this, and I’m still really not doing well but I guess I’ll give it a go anyway. I can understand how on the basis of a lot of my posts it may appear that I hate Shawn, or that I have some deep ill will for him. I think what’s important to recognize from my posts and my debates that I end up having with people is that I am usually stepping in to defend and rationalize hurt. Like all day on my dash I see white Stans attacking my black counterparts for genuine and deep hurt. The shit with Camilla, the shit with the tweets and the sweeping it under the rug, these are incidents of vulnerability for people. And the vast majority of you do not have the tact or the heart or the ability--I genuinely do not know which it is--to empathize with us, to sympathize with the pain of an artist that has brought you joy and pleasure situating themselves in anti-black rhetoric. And I know that I’m very privileged to be able to voice my opinion in a way that comes across articulate, in a way that many can understand, and that is not a privilege that I take likely. So, I do speak out. I speak out loudly and proudly and I fight for the ability for black people to feel emotions, because at the end of the day some of y’all really need to hear shit like that. And there are times that are absolutely random where I get PISSED. Where I get SAD. Where I get LIVID. And that is valid. There is no script for me that states that I have to hold onto those emotions 24/7 though. I am allowed to be absolutely pissed at Shawn for the shit he’s done, AND I am allowed to continue to support him. These two things aren’t mutually exclusive. And while I can understand why it might be a difficult concept to understand how those two things can exist right next to each other, I truly do find myself in that head space. Please let me try and explain why. 

My studies in university and my life experience and my understanding of the creation of whiteness and thus the creation of a hierarchy of race in which white supremacy becomes the dominant ideology for essentially all of culture (and please really think about this and revel in this because it is not a matter of opinion here. This one is just simply a fact) tells me that all white people are born into white supremacy. This is not something that can be helped. This is not something that they ask for. But our world and our societal discourse has historically, and continues to as well, perpetuated the understanding that white people are superior, are God-lier, are smarter, are more moral, are more intelligent, etc. etc. And I don’t mean to give you a critical race theory lesson, but I ask that you understand what this looks like in practice. It means that all white people are racist because they are born into a society that creates them to be. (and this is a startling concept and it’s not necessarily popular in the larger discourse) And so I actually believe that to use the word racism anymore to describe what are actually perpetuations of the white supremacist agenda that is again engraved into the very fabric of our nation and our world, isn’t actually a meaningful use of the word anymore. It means nothing for me to say you’re being racist, because lowkey you are probably being racist on a daily basis just from the culture alone. What is actually probably more useful, at least in my opinion is to determine what are acts of terror or violence, and then what are the more minute day-to-day acts of aggression that perhaps can be moments of opportunity for growth and education. It is a lot more complicated than this, and there is so much grey area but this is the way in which I kind of situate it in my mind. 

Essentially what I think is that Shawn is racist. Shawn is racist in the way that Justin Bieber was racist when I stanned for him, in the way that Jesse McCartney was before that, in the way that Ariana is, or Harry Styles, or Taylor Swift, or literally any white fave that one might have. What I as a black person have to decide, and have to wrestle with on a daily basis, is the distinction between the assimilation into a racist society that prioritizes whiteness above all else, and a deeper more vile attack against my humanity. So Shawn said the n-word years back and gave a really shitty apology for it. But, does he support policy that goes against my ability to live. (This is where for me there’s a difference between someone like Shawn and someone like Stirling for example). Does he actively participate in discourse that negatively impacts my livelihood or other black people’s livelihoods? So, yes he’s racist but did he in a sense create a culture within his own fandom to viciously attack and dehumanize a black woman every second of every day continuously (and yes this is a direct comment towards Camilla, bite me) These aren’t easy decisions to make, and my decision is gonna be different from one person’s decision to the next and so on and so forth. 

Ultimately for me there is still a really deep connection to Shawn on the basis of music. His music and his energy around music make me feel a way that is comforting, that is uplifting, that makes me happy. And that is worth it to me in this particular moment, which is not to say that it might not change one day. But it is also worth it to call him out on his behavior, to push him a direction of social justice and equity. I LOVE writing for Shawn because I get asks on a daily basis saying that people had literally never thought they would read a story where someone like him could love a fat woman. A black woman. Can you imagine that? That before I started writing there were people who thought these stories would never exist? I believe deeply in the humanity of people and I care so deeply about those around me that it is engraved into every fiber of my being. I want to educate. I want to destroy the status quo. I want to elevate us to a better place, because I think we deserve it. I think Shawn deserves it. I think Black women deserve it. I think we all deserve that shit. And honestly stepping into white dominate spaces is the exact place where the discourse has to change, and the conversations have to be had. So, I’m here. For now. And I really enjoy the content that I create and the people I create that content for. And I genuinely do really still enjoy Shawn. But please don’t ever ask me to separate my experience as a human being from being a fan of blind negligence and unwavering support. I can’t do that. I won’t. And I don’t think Shawn, or anyone else deserves that tbh. 

This feels like an inadequate attempt to answer your questions and maybe you got bored and left already. But I hope It makes a little more sense. I really did try. Thank you for your honesty. I hope you can accept mine as well. Have a lovely day. 

[itskimtaehyung]

Blindspot

Who is he? Who is the man with no eyes?

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader (non romantic)

Genre: Supernatural Horror, Drama

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary:  Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly.

Warnings: mentions of death and blood

A/N: if y’all dont already think i’m the worst procrastinator ever i’ll have you know that i started this fic in august of 2018 and meant to finish it for halloween of 2018 but i couldn’t even finish it in time for halloween of 2019 bc im trash

Two children, a boy and a girl, played along the rocks at the waterfront. It was overcast today, as it usually was, and a dense fog rolled over the bay toward the shore. They scuttled along, chasing crabs, attempting to grab the tiny, orange critters as they disappeared into the water. Their mother watched from a bench a few feet away. 

“Be careful, loves. We can’t afford to lose anymore people here.”

The children nodded understandingly and proceeded with their activity. That is, when the eldest, the sister, spotted something strange amongst the jagged rocks that jutted out from the mellow tides. 

“Mommy! What’s that?”

The mother stood up from the bench and calmly strolled over to her daughter. She peered down at the rocks, and saw the strange figure that was jammed between them. 

The mother let out a sigh. “That’s Stephanie. Do you remember her? She baked brownies for the bake sale last month.”

The son nodded. “I thought she went missing last week.”

“She did. This is where the people who go missing sometimes end up. Come on, children.” She held out both her hands and each child took one. “You two walk on home while I go tell Sheriff Strazzeri.”

Emerald Bay was too small for a proper sheriff’s department, or a crime scene investigation unit. It was just Sheriff Strazzeri, passionate about the law, and his son, Will, who attended the town’s subpar, probably not accredited by any other town’s standards, medical school. Together they investigated all the weird things that happen in this tiny town.  

People always say there’s nothing to do in Emerald Bay. They’re pretty much right. It’s a small coastal town, with a population of about four hundred and declining. On the east side of Emerald Bay is the Marina, lined with abandoned boats that smell of rotting fish and are covered with ancient, dried-up barnacles. On the west side is your ticket out: a dirt road that leads into the forest, a thick, dense barrier of emerald painted evergreens. That’s where the town gets its name. And past the forest is the farmland, and past the farmland is the big city. So why don’t people leave Emerald Bay? Why don’t they abandon it completely?

The answer? No one ever makes it out of the forest alive. 

Everytime someone packs their bags and tries to leave Emerald Bay, something prevents them from truly leaving. You remember when you were young, maybe three or four years old, your neighbor, Ben, decided he had enough of the monotony of this town, and got in his car and started driving. You thought he was off to a bigger and better life, somewhere out in the big city, but three days later, they found his car broken down on the road in the forest, with his dead body rotting inside. 

A few years before that, a woman who had been widowed, thought it was too difficult living in the house she had shared with her husband. She didn’t even take her things. She just started walking. She wandered into the forest, and a few days later, her body was found floating in between the boats at the Marina. In the pocket of her yellow raincoat was a piece of paper, surprisingly undamaged. On it was a drawing, done in what appeared to be blood. It looked like it was drawn by a toddler, simple and cartoonish. It was of a man, or rather a stick figure, with something over his eyes. Below the drawing were two words: SAVE ME. 

This has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. Residents have tried to explain this strange phenomenon, sometimes with outlandish theories. But the most common theory, and what you think is the most plausible one, sprang from the drawing found in the widow’s pocket.

Many think that she was trying to warn us. That she drew it in a haste before she died. Many think that there is a man in the forest. One that wears a piece of cloth over his eyes. One that takes the lives of anyone who wanders into his home.

Supposedly he lives in the forest alone. Deep into the dark woods, making himself known only at night. His skin and his hair are an ashy gray, and he is said to glow under a full moon. But the most distinguishing thing about him is he always wears a black blindfold. Why? Because he is blind. Because he is the man with no eyes. 

You have always been interested in this kind of stuff. The spooky, the scary, the unsettling. Slenderman theories completely consumed you in grade school. So did werewolves, ghosts, and all things supernatural. You’ve always managed to prove them all as myths. Except this one.

You had almost forgotten about the man in the forest until last week. 

Mark was a well beloved citizen of Emerald Bay. You had been in school with him your whole life. He was so incredibly smart and gifted. Everyone thought he would become mayor one day or something. That is, until a couple of weeks ago, when he went missing.

His family said he went to buy milk from the grocery store and he never returned. All of Emerald Bay were on the lookout, although there aren’t very many places to hide in such a small town. He had no reason to run away either. His parents were very loving, and his friends were supportive. No one ever imagined that he would do such a thing. 

A week after Mark went missing, his body is found at the edge of the forest. There’s no sign of injury, and he wasn’t gone long enough to die from thirst or starvation. Will can’t find anything wrong with him. He can’t even determine when Mark had died.

As an ordinary citizen, you don’t have access to many of the details surrounding Mark’s death. All the information you get is from what they print in the local newspaper, and you know those things never tell the whole story. You began volunteering at the local library a few months back, hoping to gain more access to the towns archives, but there are so many newspapers and journals that it quickly became overwhelming, and you put a pause on poring through them. However, being the urban legend enthusiast you are, you want to know more, and the only way to get information is to dig it up yourself.

That’s why you waited until tonight, the night of the first full moon since they discovered Mark’s body. You equip yourself with a flashlight, pepper spray, and a sledge hammer (you know, just in case). You’ve never hunted this kind of creature before, so you don’t know what kind of equipment you would need. It’s stupid to go out into the forest alone, especially on the night of a full moon, but you don’t know anyone stupid enough to agree to go with you. 

The streets are dead, as they are every night, when you pull your car up to the edge of the forest. You can see the full moon peeking through the branches of the trees, round and luminous.

You must go on foot from here. The roads in the forest are bumpy and jagged from the tree roots breaking through the asphalt. You would bust a tire within seconds of entering. 

The chilly sea breeze nips at your skin when you exit your car. You pop open your trunk and grab your hunting supplies: An EMF meter you built yourself, your sledge hammer for defense, holy water blessed by Reverend Kang, some dried sage, and a wooden stake because vampires aren’t real but you never know, right?

You close the trunk and step away from your car. The breeze seems to get stronger as you walk toward the forest, almost as if it’s pulling you into it. You let it lure you in amongst the trees. You follow it until you can’t see your car behind you anymore, and still you continue on. You make your way around a large tree and then stop dead in your tracks. In front of you is a figure, glowing so brightly that you can’t discern any actual shapes. You just know that it is vaguely human. 

“Y/N.” The sound echoes in your ears. The voice is melodic, calming, unlike anything you’ve heard before.

You struggle to catch your breath. “H-how do you know my name?”

“I know everything.” The figure lifts its hand up and beckons you. “Come closer.”

You can feel your limbs wanting to move on their own. You try to resist it and stand your ground. You don’t want to go near him. You want to stay a safe distance away, but he’s too strong, and he pulls you closer to him. Soon, the two of you are face to face, and you can make out his features. His hair glows silver, and his icy white skin contrasts starkly with the black blindfold that covers his eyes. He radiates a strange energy, one that you’ve never experienced before. It’s cold, yet warm at the same time. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, yet your body feels feverish. Your chest feels tight as you struggle to fill your lungs with air. 

“W-what are you?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I am ancient. I am the only one of my kind, therefore I don’t have a name. But you may call me Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” you mutter in awe. You have so many questions for this strange creature. You never thought you’d actually find him, and now that you have, you must make the most of it. “There are so many things I want to know. Why do you take people? Why do you kill the residents of Emerald Bay?”

“I simply call to them. It is their choice whether they answer or not.”

“Are you calling me to right now?”

“Yes.” Jimin furrows his brows in confusion. “But you seem to be resisting my charm.”

“I’m not here to be your next victim.”

“Then why are you here?”

“LIke I said before. To find out why you take people, why you kill them.”

“But that’s not the only reason. The people who come here are unhappy. They want more from Emerald Bay. No one wanders into the forest, no matter how curious, unless they don’t mind being taken.”

“That’s not true,” you refute. 

“Isn’t it? Think about everyone who has wandered in here. Think about your own self.”

You open your mouth to speak, to tell him he’s wrong. But with the blink of an eye he’s gone.

You drive home dejectedly. Yes, you found Jimin, but now you have more questions than answers. What is he? Why does he kill people? How does he do it? 

You get farther and farther away from the forest. It’s nearly morning and the AM fog is starting to roll in from the ocean, coating the town in a thick blanket of gray. It’s so thick, you can barely see the block ahead of you. Your eyes momentarily wander away from the road to check your mirrors. Your tires screech as you suddenly slam on the brakes. You rub your eyes and blink. You could have sworn you just saw something in your back seat. And you’re almost positive that something was Jimin. But as you glance back up at your rear view, there’s no one there. It’s just your empty back seat and the eerie fog behind you. 

You tell yourself that you’re just seeing things. You didn’t get any sleep last night and you’re starting to hallucinate. 

When you get home, you’re so exhausted that you immediately collapse onto your bed and fall asleep. If you dream that night, you don’t remember any of them.

You sleep until you can’t anymore, and you lay in bed until your body aches. It screams at you to get up, and so you do, making your way to the bathroom to wash your face. 

You splash the cool water over your skin, rinsing off the cleanser that still clings to the area around your eyes. Afterward, you use a towel to pat your skin dry and take a look in the mirror. You freeze and nearly drop the towel. Over your shoulder, you can see Jimin standing, watching but not watching. 

You whip around but there’s nothing there. When you look back in the mirror, he’s nowhere to be seen. You got plenty of sleep this morning, so there’s no reason for you to be seeing things. But what else could possibly explain this?

Something doesn’t feel right. 

As hard as you try, you can’t bring your eyes to open. You can sense it. You can feel something in your room. You sense an unmistakable presence at the foot of your bed. It feels, evil, demonic, malevolent. 

You gasp for air, but the blankets seem to suffocate you. You want to push them off so you can breathe, but you’re paralyzed. Your heart races as you try to will yourself to open your eyes, to take a deep breath, anything. 

As quick as it comes, the feeling is gone. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You wiggle your toes to see if you can move again, but you’re too scared to open your eyes. Instead, you bury yourself deeper beneath your covers and try to fall asleep, but you can’t shake the feeling that something truly evil was just in your room. 

When you finally succumb to slumber, you dream of the forest that night. 

You’re running. The brisk air and the smell of pine nip at your nostrils. Your lungs burn, and no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t seem to move faster than a crawl. You feel something chasing you, and you’re trying to get away. You’re trying to get back to the main road where you’ve parked your car, but the only thing around you is endless forest. Your heart feels as if it’s going to explode. 

Faster, faster, you tell yourself. But it’s no use. You can’t go any faster. 

You run and run. You don’t see the fallen branch on the ground until your foot catches on it, and you hurdle forward, putting your hands out to break the fall. 

But you never hit the ground, because the panic jolts you awake. 

This time you’re able to open your eyes, and it’s daylight out. Your clock says 7:03, twelve minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off and you have to get ready for school. 

When you sit up your brain pounds with a massive migraine that leaves you a bit nauseous. You wash your face in the sink like you do every morning, but today, you don’t see Jimin in the reflection with you. You bend over to rinse the cleanser off your face, and when you stand back up straight, you’re hit with a sudden wave a dizziness. Bile makes its way up your throat and you heave violently into the sink until it’s filled with thick, dark blood. 

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you see your mouth covered in red. You stumble back as a high pitched scream rings through your ears. 

Your mom rushes up the stairs and sticks her head in to the bathroom. “Is everything alright? Why did you scream?” 

You turn to face her. Can’t she see that your mouth is covered in blood? She’s not looking at you in horror, her concerned expression does not waver. When you glance back in the mirror, there’s no blood to be seen, and the sink is spotless as well. 

“Ye-yeah, Mom. I just…” you wrack your brain for an excuse, “thought I saw a spider. That’s all. Everything is fine.” But you can still taste the metallic tang on your tongue. 

When she leaves you look back in the mirror and Jimin stands in her place. You can feel his gaze piercing through the cloth over his eyes. 

With the blink of an eye he’s gone. 

Your life goes on like this for days, weeks. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly. You can’t sleep. You can barely eat. You can’t focus. 

You can’t stand it anymore. You need answers.

The Emerald Bay Library is old, much like all the other buildings in Emerald Bay. It’s been here for longer than even the oldest residents of the town can remember. Its shelves are filled mostly with novels from the previous century. No one knows where they came from. They seemingly just manifested one day. It’s part of the mystery of how this town came into existence.

After your volunteer shift, you tell Head Librarian Kim that you’re going to stay behind to do some research for a class project. He hands you the keys and tells you to lock up when you’re done without questioning you any further. The second he leaves, you head a computer to search the town archives. You look for journals, newspaper articles, anything that documents strange and inexplicable happenings. You write down some promising pieces along with their call number and set off to find them. 

When you turn the corner to head down one of the aisles, you can feel him. You look around you, seeing if you can find him lurking in the shadows. You don’t see anything, but his presence, the heaviness in the air, this thick, eerie feeling, is unmistakable. 

Shrugging it off, you scan the bookshelf for what you’re looking for. You trace your fingers over it’s spine, almost as old as the town itself.

The Mystery and Lore of Emerald Bay

You pluck the book from the shelf. It’s dusty, like it hadn't been touched in years. 

You wander over to the tables that sit in between the shelves and take a seat. The book’s leathery cover feels dry beneath your fingers. Stiff and crusty. Dust flies up toward your face as you open the book and flip through its yellowed pages, filled with handwritten and hand drawn accounts of unexplained phenomena that once sent the town into panic. 

The first is the chupacabra, from the time the town’s cattle were disappearing. Turns out it was just a resident who didn’t want to pay for beef at the local butcher shop and decided to take and slaughter them for himself.

Then the Emerald Bay Monster, which was quickly determined to merely be driftwood.

Along with a few other things that have since been solved by modern science. Things like poisonous mushrooms, lightning bugs, and fairy rings.

Finally, at the end of the book, you find what you’re looking for. 

The Man with No Eyes

You skim through the introduction and description of Jimin, then some eye witness accounts written by former residents of Emerald Bay, long dead from old age or maybe even something more sinister. Then you find what you’re looking for. 

Not much is known about this mysterious man, only that he kills. Some say that he is both immortal and invulnerable, making him impervious to any harm one might attempt to inflict upon him. However, there are rumors from the ancient times about this man. There have been no records of whether anyone has actually attempted these methods, however, the creature still stands, which is a testament to something. If one truly wants to know, legend has it that the only way to kill him is–

You’re about to turn the page only to find that the subsequent pages have been ripped out, and on the back cover, written in what appears to be blood, are the words: 

YOU  CAN’T KILL ME

You drop the book as soon as you see it.

You want to yell at him, to scream. But it’s hard to talk to something you can’t face directly. “What do you want? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I will be here until you give into me.”

You whip your head around, only to be met with dusty bookshelves and darkness. 

“Is this how you got the others to do it? By messing with their heads? Come out where I can see you!”

That’s when the bright, glowing figure steps out from the shadows and stands in front of you. His face is expressionless as he stares at you through the pitch black blindfold. 

“Do you think they just happened to go to the forest, just because you wanted to?” Jimin asks. “No, that was me, calling to them. And now I am calling to you. I have come to claim you. It is your time.”

You shake your head and stand your ground. 

“Come to me,” he beckons. 

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose someone else,” he answers plainly. 

“I don’t want someone else to die but I don’t want to die either!”

”Then don’t. You don’t have to die. Just come to me.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone? Why don’t you leave all of us alone?”

“It’s not in my nature. My species feeds off of your energy, your sadness.”

“And if we don’t give it to you, you die?”

Jimin chuckles. “No, you can’t kill me that easily. I simply get angrier, more violent until I get what I want.”

When he smiles, you can see his teeth. Sharp, jagged. There are rows of them, like shark teeth. Your heart pounds in your chest. You take a step back, but Jimin is quick to step toward you. You take another step, but the backs of your legs hit the table. You quickly dart your eyes around the room, searching for an exit route. There are tables, chairs, and shelves in the way. The main entrance is on the other side of the library, and Jimin stands in the way of the emergency door. 

“There’s nowhere for you to run, Y/N. Because as fast as you run, I will always be faster.” 

“What happens when I give in?”

“You’ll find out.”

He removes his blindfold to reveal the brightest, most blinding light you have ever seen.

The same woman watches as her children play along the shore. a light breeze blows a crumpled piece of paper to her feet. she picks it up and reads it, sighing. 

MISSING PERSON Y/N Along with a photo your mom took of you two years ago. 

You’ve been missing for over two months now. Usually the bodies turn up within a couple of weeks. No one was brave enough to go into the forest to look for you. Not even Officer Strazzeri. Not even your mother. 

Maybe you weren’t taken. Maybe you were a lucky one. Maybe you were actually able to escape Emerald Bay onto bigger and better things. 

[bumblbytrash]

My Just Right™️ Theory

So I know I’m not the only one who thinks Blake is Baby Bear. Or at least I hope I’m not alone.

I mean then again I literally never really see anyone else posting about it other than people reblogging my posts so fucking maybe.

But I’m really latched onto this head canon and y’all better buckle up cause I’ve got new thoughts to add to this crackpot theory.

Now, I’ve made a semi lengthy post about this already, which can be found here, and y’all should really go read that first bc I’m gonna gloss over what over already talked about and y’all will be confused. Now that post really only talks about Blake’s introduction as Baby Bear. But now I’ve got for y’all all the reasons how Blake fills the role of Baby Bear/ being Just Right™️ for Yang.

-

The first thing I wanna to clarify with y’all is the basics of Goldilocks and the three bears. Just cause I’m obv gonna talk about symbolism that I’m pulling from quite a lot and I want us all on the same page. So,

Goldilocks vs Papa Bear: porridge is too hot, bed is too stiff. Angry and mean, or passionate and protective.

Mama Bear: porridge is too cold, bed is too soft. Distant and bracing, or level headed and receptive.

But then Baby Bear’s stuff is Just Right™️. Y’all starting to get why I’ve also latched on to “Just Right™️”?

-

Second thing I’m gonna come right out and clarify is that yes. I am aware that Junior’s name means Baby Bear. Actually his name means Black Bear, the nickname Junior is what makes it Baby Black Bear. But I’m imagining the titles being a little flexible and applicable to multiple characters.

-

So cool, Yang fought two Ursai, one was “hot headed” and aggressive, attacked her up front. The other was a more “cool headed” passive one that watched at first, and the poof, Blake.

Baby Bear. But I wanna take it a step further. So let’s look at team RWBY

Papa Bear = Ruby. Yes I know, the Yang is far more hot headed and fiery than ruby but hear me out. In the scene immediately following Blake’s introductionas Baby Bear, we see Ruby rum into a situation without much thought. She makes a hot headed move to attack without double checking her surroundings and fucks up Weiss’ shot. Then, in the ensuing argument, Ruby loses her temper and cuts down a tree. That’s some pretty hot porridge right there.

Mama Bear = Weiss. I means come on, she’s literally called the ice queen. In the scene after Blake’s introduction as Baby Bear, Weiss is shown being ice cold and honestly a total bitch. She’s literally standing there surrounded by beowolves, slowly going down a check list. I’m not here to say that proper form isn’t important but woman. Don’t wait for the second ice age. Then after Ruby beats her to the punch she starts an argument and she’s really cold. Saying to Ruby that no, she’s not perfect but she’s leagues better than her. That porridge is FROZEN.

Baby Bear = Blake. Y’all. Do I even have to say it? They’re literally perfect for each other. Blake is Just Right™️ in so many ways. Blake’s the person that Yang has the deepest connection with. Blake’s the one who laughs/smiles the most at Yang’s stupid jokes or really even just at Yang because she’s there. Yang strives for Blake’s approval, she immediately tears up and visibly breaks down the second it seems like Blake doesn’t trust/believe her. And when Blake asks Yang to promise to her specifically, in return for Blake’s trust, Yang doesn’t even hesitate for a second. Makes eye contact and promises. Blake’s also like, the only person to show worry or concern over Yang in a fight. Then, after being separated from each other for around a year, they just fall back into sync as it nothing ever kept them apart. Sure, they had a bump of two I’m looking at you apathy barn but they were just that bumps that’s they got over in a snap.

I mean shit, even the color scheme lines up for team RWBY.

Next we get to look at our in-world family of bears: The Belladonna’s

Kali Belladonna. Y’all look at this sweet bean and tell me she isn’t the softest Mama Bear to ever soft.

Kali Belladonna isn’t ice cold in the way that Weiss is, she’s more cool and soft. She does silly things, teases her daughter about the boy that followed her home and doesn’t hesitate for a second to wrap her daughter up in a bear hug.

And damn if Ghira Belladonna isn’t intimidating as all shit

Ghira Belladonna is a damned force to be reckoned with. This man is the very definition of a hot headed, protective Papa Bear. Y’all cannot convince me other wise if you tried.

The Belladonna’s are admittedly a fav and I’m really just including them cause I can and it fits sooooooooo. Moving on:

So the last thing I wanna talk to y’all about is Yang’s abandonment issues. How we’ve seen it played out in the show and how it fits into my Baby Bear!Blake theory. And yes, I know this is reaching. Like shit, my spine popped, I was reaching so far up to this shelf but hear me out.

Yang has canonically been abandoned 3 times.

The first time was her birth mother, Raven Branwen.

Now we can only speculate on why Raven really left. Yang also, has no idea why Raven left, a fact that hit us over the head in V2. So for Yang’s entire life (tho she got some closure in V5) Yang has just built up bitterness and anger toward her mother. “How dare she leave, how could she just go, abandon her family like that.”

The second time was Summer Rose. But Summer didn’t chose to leave.

I mean yes she chose to leave for the mission, but she fully planned on returning. She was killed. The was a fight, a slip up, an accident, and Summer couldn’t make it back home. Yang more than likely spent her years wishing that maybe she or Tai or Qrow or anyone would have just gone with her, made sure that Summer was alright. Summer didn’t leave, she was taken away inexplicably and Yang would have felt sad. Lost and cold without her mother’s guidance.

The third time was Blake. And yes, our baby girl fucked up when she left, I’m not here to deny that.

So during the fall of beacon, Yang finds Blake on the ground under Adam who has just stabbed her. Keep in mind, Yang has spent the majority of her life wishing she or literally any one could have been there to save Summer. Wishing that someone could have prevented her loved one from being ripped away from her. And now, Blake is about to be killed in front of Yang’s very eyes.

Y’all damn know she flipped her shit. She is CRYING as she launches herself at Adam, so blinded by her need to make to Blake, to be there in time, to save her life. Y’all also know that she failed, pretty miserably in fact. But Blake didn’t care. She only cared that Yang had come at all, and was upset with herself for having brought Yang into her world of trauma. So she left. She left because she thought that that would protect Yang.

What’s different about Blake leaving is that she’s the only person who actually chose Yang. Sure the message didn’t come across to Yang right away, but that’s what happened. Blake chose Yang’s safety over her own safety, well being, and happiness.

And I know, I know, that what t probably hurt Yang more than anything was that Blake chose to leave her behind, like Raven had. Yang ultimately made her peace with Summer because that was out of anyone’s control. But Blake? We see in volume 5 we see that Yang is very VERY upset that Blake left. When Ruby tells Yang she wishes Blake was with them, Yang lashes out. Ruby pushed farther, prying, trying to force Yang into wanting Blake there and Yang snaps, of only for a moment.

Her eyes burn red and she is LIVID. Yang eventually gets up and sulks in her room while carressing Blake’s image in a group photo. And then, enter Weiss. Weiss says nothing as she enters the room. Just sits and lets Yang rant. Once Yang’s down Weiss speaks. Talks about her own traumas and her own family issues. And finally talks to Yang and convinces her to try and see things from Blake’s perspective.

I mean shit. The poor girl did her absolute best to remain distant, to keep her secrets, to keep her past away from the rest of them. But she opened up to Yang, they became very close friends and at some point (I’m looking at you Burning the Candle) it became a little more flirtatious and romantic. Then with all this going on, Adam appears of literally nowhere and maimes the one person in all of Beacon that Blake has truly opened up to. And like let’s not fucking forget that Blake is also the only person we see Yang open up to. I mean we see her open up to Weiss, but she’s literally opening up about her pain from Blake leaving soooooooo.

The last thing that sets Blake apart in this cycle of the three bears, and the reason why she gets to be Baby Bear/ Just Right™️ is because BLAKE CAME BACK.

This girl, who is notorious for running from her problems, to the point that her semblance which is an extension of her own soul, is literally a mechanism to run away, SHE CAME BACK.

Blake came back to Yang. And she’s promised she’s never going anywhere again. And Yang believes her, Yang trusts her, and y’all can damn well believe Yang LOVES her.

So yea. Blake’s Baby Bear. She’s Just Right™️ for Yang. Try and change my mind. You can’t.

This post has gotten really long, and I do have more thoughts, but maybe in another post cause again, this is already a fucking full length essay.

For y’all who wanted to be tagged:

@sunnydragonqueen @yeehawyang @AG_Nonsuch

[bakubros]

Tagged by @artsytodoroki, @minaaashido, @pilotpig! This was so much fun to fill out, guys! Thanks for tagging me. 💞

Rules: Answer 11 questions, Create 11 of your own, and Tag 11 people!

I’ll tag: @pinkcupofcherrytea, @dekudorks, @lupizora, @enonmia,  @shulksfeels, @mysonisthesun, @a-erith, anddddd.... just about anyone else who’s interested in doing this c; (i’m a lazy tagger, rip.) amy, shy, piggie, i’d love to see your answers as well if you have some free time! 

(questions are at the veryyyyyy bottom of this read more, lol)

Amy’s Questions:

If you were a character in the BNHA universe, what quirk would you want to have? *nervous sweating* I actually have a really detailed OC I made for Hero Aca and now that I have the opportunity to show her off to the world, I’m getting nervous? LOL. I’ll just say that the quirk’s name is tentatively “flying fish” and then leave it at that for now... Until I find the courage to brag about it in depth... (I am actually in love with the idea and character I came up with, I’m just ??? Suddenly nervous for no reason?? LMAO)

Do you know your MBTI? If you do, what is it? INFP!

Are you somebody who thinks before you act or do you act before you think? It honestly depends on the context of the situation. When I’m with friends or people I’m comfortable with or when I’m tired, I act before I think. When I’m skeptical of others or anxious about how I’m being perceived, I think before I act.

What’s your current obsession? Mmm, tough! I’ve been really into watching movies recently, particularly the Oscar-nominated films. I’m sad because I side with the New Academy on a lot of their picks but know that the Old Academy still dominates so rip ;;;

If you ever wanted to change your name, what would it be? I used to hate my name and thought about changing it to “Willow Kathryn” instead of “Jessica Kathryn.” I don’t know what I was thinking when I was younger; I just know that, now that I’m older, I would never go through with such a change. LMAO

Least and favorite subjects in school? Favorite was literature, least favorite was (and will always be) math.

Describe yourself in one or two words. Passionate, Empathetic

How tall are you? 157 cm (though I like to think I’ve grown a bit ;;;;)

Do you have a phobia? I don’t think that any of my fears are strong enough to constitute a phobia? Though I will admit to an awful abhorrence of bugs.

Would you prefer to go where there’s less people or more people? I’m assuming you mean live? And if that’s the case, then less people. If it’s late at night or something though (like now!), I prefer to be around more people.

Do you believe that the world is divided into good and bad people or is everybody the same? if so, why? To assume that the world is Manichean feels like an antiquated, small-minded notion; to assume that everyone in the world is the same feels ignorant and dehumanizing. I believe that all “divisions” within our culture (I’m throwing morality into this category for the purpose of this question) are man-made constructs--in that sense, there’s no right or wrong answer. In my case, it’s just fundamental disagreement with the notion, lol. On the question of morality, however, I will say that I believe that all individuals exist on a spectrum and cannot be definitively good nor definitively bad; to label someone in a single category like that limits future perception of them and implies an inability for human change/growth.

Shy’s Questions:

[pre-school teacher voice] What do you want to be when you grow up? I wanted to be a teacher, and then a pediatrician, and then a writer, and then a professor. And now I’m back to teacher. We’ve come full circle. LOL.

What did you do today? GOT SOME OF MY SHIT TOGETHER!! Double-checked my degree audit with my advisers, met with the dean of my college to ensure that I’m on-track to meet the criteria for graduating summa cum laude with the dean’s medal in December, and discussed scholarship funding with some of my current sponsors. I thought that I was going to owe my school money after the summer, but it’s looking like they’re going to be paying me instead. 😎

What’s the last really good fanfic or meta you’ve read? I’ve... honestly been slacking really hard in the reading department for the fandom. I’ve been reading a lot of wips recently (which obviously haven’t been posted), but the last one that comes to mind is cherry chapstick on the tip of your tongue by oliviyay on ao3! 

Do you prefer saying “y’all” or “you guys?” You guys!

What is the last thing you watched? A video of Die Mannschaft’s coach talking about how proud he is of His Boys™️.

How are you feeling? I just really want the semester to be over because I’m tired of the workload? But at the same time I’m really antsy about that because it means graduation is just that much closer?? And idk if I’m fully ready for that?? Like, I know that I am but like... I still don’t feel like an adult lekrjwlekrri

Favorite sitcom? Parks and Recreation, hands down. I binged the entire series when I was going through a bad breakup, and whenever I can’t sleep or need a pick-me-up, the show always has my back. I’m p sure that if Netflix ever removes it I will die.

Anime or manga or neither? I’ve always been partial to manga!

Favorite kind of smoothie? The Beach Bum at the Tropical Smoothie Cafe! I like it because I’m a sucker for chocolate, but the ingredients in the smoothie still make me feel like I’m healthy.

Got any allergies? I’m mildly allergic to dust and pollen. For some reason I’m severely allergic to a certain species of grass. (And, because I have the best of luck, it’s the species of grass that is native to Florida. It’s everywhere I go and I just want to be able to sit in the park without breaking out into hives. ;;;)

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever purchased? I just recently paid $800+ for VIP tickets for my parents and I to go see Elton John in concert. But, like, I know it’ll be worth it so I’m not even mad LMFAO

Piggie’s Questions:

What is your favorite soap scent? Ooooh, this is a really tough one! I can’t think of anything specific, but I’m a fan of scents with floral undertones!

What is the talent of yours that you are most proud of? Please go on and on and on about it!! (and don’t say you have no talents because I know all of you well enough to know that’s not true >:’D) Mmmmm, this is tough! This is more of a personality trait, I suppose, but I’m really stubborn when it comes to getting what I want; if I have a goal in mind, I do absolutely everything that I can to achieve it. So far, this has worked out really for  me, which is why I’m considering it a talent? I’m sure that a lot of it is just good luck though. LMAO. I think that I also have really good memory! I remember seemingly insignificant details really well, which makes for fun writing. c:

What is your favorite book and why? Or TV show/anime/movie if you don’t like books? The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien--this book is honestly what inspired me to become a writer and holds a very special place in my heart. Second favorite would be The Mill on the Floss by George, and every time I’m reminded that it’s considered one of the worst books in classic lit I cry a little harder.

Which fictional character do you relate to the most? (And why, if you want?) Bakugou Katsuki, in terms of backstory (being praised when young and letting it go to my head), passion/ambition, and tendency for cursing. I’ve never been outspoken or antagonistic though, so that’s where our biggest difference is, lol. (He is still my Child though and I Would still die for him)

Do you have any collections? If so, what do you collect? Books and video games, I suppose! Though right now I’m also starting a magazine habit that I know I’ll regret in the future...

What are your top three best personality traits, and what is one thing about your personality that you want to work on? In no particular order: passion, empathy, and friendliness. I’d like to be more consistent outgoing when it comes to meeting new people and making new friends. I’ve been given many opportunities to form bonds with really awesome people, but I always get shy/awkward or just fudge it up. I’d really like to change that, haha.

Do you have any pets? If so, what is/are their personality/personalities like? I have a dog named Snowie! When she was younger, she was super rambunctious and liked playing in the dirt--wasn’t much of a cuddler. Now that she’s older, she’s a lot calmer. And she really likes cuddling which I really appreciate.

What is your preferred study method? Depends on what I’m doing specifically! If I’m reading lit or crit theory, I need an empty room, some good music, and soft lighting. If I’m preparing for a test or writing something up though, I need to be around other people. When it’s something that I don’t really want to do, constant supervision is necessary to make sure that I actually do it. LMAO.

What is the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done? Impromptu island hopping and cliff diving on my cousin’s boat during my last trip to the Philippines!

What are your life goals? Oh boy. Although I mentioned that I’m a very goal-oriented person, I’m really bad at designing long-term goals? I think that I’ve only ever gotten as far as five or so years in the future. I guess I’ll say that I want to work in a job that I enjoy, surround myself with people I care about, and do something that makes me feel like I’ve left a mark. (Ahhh, this was such a bad answer! Sorry! ;3;)

What is your favorite part of being on Tumblr? Probably the people I’ve met. The nice ones, ofc!

My Questions

What was your first big fandom? How did you get started in it and how did it inspire you?

Was there ever a fandom that you were a part of that you now regret? (catch me in middle school skipping class to watch the early premieres of the twilight movies and getting into intense debates over team edward v team jacob LMFAO)

If you had to pick an artist to create the OST of your life, who would it be? Why?

Tell me three things a person could say/do/believe to instantly taint your friendship/relationship with them.

I suck at cooking. Do you? If you don’t, what’s your favorite thing to make? (hmu with a recipe and i’ll love you for life lmfao)

If you had to name a daughter right now, what would you name them? What if you had a son? (Alternatively, if you have no interest in children, what name would you like to give a female/male character that you create?)

Let’s say you were to die right here, right now. What would be your biggest regret?

Think of one really, really good teacher you had. What made them so great?

What’s your “origin story”? If you had to explain why you are the way you are by only pointing at one event in your life, which one would you choose?

Tumblr is an actual hellhole. But what do you like about it?

How are you? (I’m stealing Shy’s question because I really like it lmao)

[pass-the-bechdel]

LOST full series review

How many episodes pass the Bechdel test?

48.33% (fifty-eight of one hundred and twenty).

What is the average percentage of female characters with names and lines for the full series?

32.08%

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 40% female?

Twenty-four.

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 50% female?

Two.

How many episodes have a cast that is less than 20% female?

Six.

Positive Content Status:

Though the female characters themselves tend to be high-quality characters who provide a strong undercurrent of positivity, ultimately this is a very solipsistic-straight-white-male-driven narrative, and that makes for an uninspiring and sometimes infuriating counterbalance (average rating of 3.01).

Which season had the best representation statistics overall?

None of the seasons did consistently better than the rest, with the various statistics fluctuating over the course of the series and never trending conclusively in one direction or another. Consequently, different seasons perform best depending on how you cut the numbers - that said, season four rises to the top of the heap by averages, despite never turning in the best score for any criteria, while season two was more of a standout in terms of scoring poorly less often than the rest, even if it didn’t match that with especially positive marks. 

Which season had the worst representation statistics overall?

Again, while not consistent, season one does tend to shake out at the bottom (more confidently than any other season attempts to achieve the top-end, at least), while season six is usually the next rung up. The middle part of the show is the better part for representation, is the conclusion.

Overall Series Quality:

Powerful, wonderful. Not without flaws, no, but as far as existentialist character drama is concerned, you can’t beat it. It rocked the industry back when it was on tv, and it damn well lives up to the hype to this day. You’ll not find another like it.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) under the cut:

Not gonna lie: I actually took a huuuge break between writing that not-much-of-a-season-six-review, and writing this. I didn’t intend to, I just...how the fuck to summarise this show in a somewhat-succinct manner? In a novella-sized essay, yeah, that’s doable, but as something I can type up without stressing that someone can then peruse at their leisure instead of clicking ‘read more’, watching the little scrolly bar at the side of the browser shrink, and going “wow, Hell no” and leaving? The plan for this blog has always been to present information and opinions without becoming a chore for y’all to read or for me to write, and sometimes that means I edit my own thoughts too harshly and get annoyed later for not having said more, and sometimes it means I look at a task before me for a while and then go “wow, Hell no” and leave. Today is not that day.

Honestly, my experience of LOST was extremely personal, and so more than with any other show I’ve reviewed thus far, LOST has made it a challenge sometimes to discuss objectively. While there were other shows I had been attached to in the past (*shakes fist at The X Files*), this was the first that I got deeply invested in, and at an age where I could critically engage, and at a time where the internet had become a big enough deal that I had all sorts of inlets and outlets for BTS information and engagement beyond just sitting down to watch an episode once a week. In six years, I never missed an episode, which is an especially big deal considering that during that time I also enjoyed the obstacle course of homelessness, a natural disaster, and the varied delights of major depression and high school graduation. At the toughest points, looking forward to the next episode of LOST was literally the only thing I held onto to get me through the week. I had a dream once (circa season four, I think) where I drove a van into a lava flow and my last thought before I died/woke up was “but I won’t get to find out how LOST ends!” It was a big deal, is what I’m saying. It was a really big deal for me.

So...now that we’re two paragraphs in already (and since this is not an online recipe for souffle or something, wherein you might expect five paragraphs at least of totally unrelated personal-life stuff before I suddenly segue into ‘so anyway first thing you need is some eggs’), let’s actually talk LOST. I mean, it’s like crack to me, honestly, with the character-driven narrative exploring grandiose themes of fate, faith, and the meaning of life. If there were more women and significantly more gay, it’d pretty much be For Real Perfect to me, like someone looked into my brain and went “I know exactly what kind of show you’re looking for” and then made that show at a huge budget in beautiful Hawaii, and then tossed Jackwad in there as the central character because no one is allowed to have a Perfect Thing, I guess. I’m not gonna get distracted by how Jack is the actual worst, not today. We know that already; we’ve bigger things to talk about. Meaning of life stuff.

The thing about ‘meaning of life’ stuff is that philosophy (and I say this as someone who 1) ACED it in university, and 2) includes it heavily in their own work because IT’S LIKE CRACK TO ME) is...kinda waffly, wanky, bullshit. Existentialism is something pretty much everyone engages with as a concept, but if you run with it too far it’s...fuckin’ empty, y’all. It’s navel-gazing garbage. The thing with philosophy is that there are NO answers, it’s purely theoretical, and so you can dig around that rabbit hole and make yourself a comfy nest in one concept or another (if we want to extend this metaphor we can make an entire rabbit warren of interconnected ideas and also perhaps make a pompous remark about undermining the structural integrity of the very earth we walk), but at the end of the day, no one’s philosophical theory is inherently better or more valid than another, nor is it entirely clear whether or not it matters. Maybe you’ve settled on a concept of God or Gods in a pre-established religion; maybe you believe in a less defined Higher Power; maybe you’re pure science and everything is a construct and nothing is ‘real’ because ‘real’ is also a construct; maybe you’re totally nihilistic about existence; maybe you think aliens are responsible; maybe you don’t fucking care. Whatever your opinion, the conundrum remains: existential philosophy is an eternal question we all brush up against, and yet it also exists (heh) on a spectrum from ‘frustratingly unknowable’ to ‘pretentious and masturbatory’. So, how the Hell do you engage with that in a way that is accessible, interesting, and meaningful? 

So, the next thing you need for your souffle is...honestly, I don’t know, I don’t know how to make souffle. LOST, though, the souffle that is LOST - the character-driven narrative is how they make that philosophical musing work. I’d advocate for character-centric storytelling any day of the week, because emotional engagement with characters enhances audience engagement with narrative as a whole, but when your narrative is dealing heavily in existentialist themes and broad intertwined-fates and pseudo-religious faith, etc., making the human characters the central focus of your story is of paramount importance in keeping that story grounded. It also means that your audience doesn’t have to be into the more heady themes in order to enjoy the story, so you don’t cut half your audience by being a lofty elitist prick about it, nor do you lose track of your own narrative by allowing it to become too conceptual. Character-driven keeps the story tight on the ground with those people living the day-to-day reality of their lives, and the conceptual wankery is significantly less wanky for being threaded throughout that sense of grounded reality. 

The characters are the absolute heart and soul of LOST, and one of its great successes there is that it entertained such a large cast. Lots of characters means lots of different opportunities for character types, for exploring different backstories, and different motivations and perspectives when handling situations in the past and present (and future, and afterlife...). Big surprise, character variety means more ways to connect with an audience! Characters with different backgrounds resonate with a wider variety of audience members! Characters of different colours provide representation for your varied audience! Characters of different sexualities pr- ok, never mind that one. Will I stop harping about the intense heterosexuality? No, I won’t. They dropped the ball on that one, plain and simple. They missed that boat, like a bunch of straight white male chumps who still accidentally wrote a lot more straight white males than they did anyone else. Can I fault them for being straight white males and writing that experience in turn? Yes, I can. If they can sit around debating the literal meaning of life and constructing an elaborate yet impeccable six-season narrative on the subject, they can look at the literal world around them and see that there’s a heck of a lot of non-white, non-male, non-straight people. Holla damn. ANYWAY. Mostly they did a not-bad job about the white part. A dodgy job with the male part. A failed job with the straight part. It’s been half a paragraph since I explicitly mentioned how salty I am about that thing in particular. Salty as an ocean surrounding an island with a magical miracle light at its centre, I am. 

ANYWAY ANYWAY there is a lot about what made LOST work that came from a well-thought-out and strong long-term plot. A lot was made of the whole ‘the writers said they knew what they were doing but they totally didn’t!’ as if that was somehow a betrayal or proof of failure. My other favourite show-ending (and one of my other favourite shows) that I have brought up before is Farscape, a show with one of the more thoroughly cohesive long-term narratives that brought its story around with a remarkable degree of continuity, and yet the writers there readily admitted they were making it up as they went along. Contrast with, say, How I Met Your Mother, for which the infamously terrible finale had been planned since the start and strictly adhered to despite the fact that the story and characters had moved far, far from it in the natural course of development over seven seasons. Flexibility in a story is essential; you have to be ready to seize upon opportunities when they arise, or to modify to accommodate unforeseen changes. What matters is that you tell a story with that all-important continuity remaining intact, and LOST well and truly did that. I don’t care how much of it they had figured out from the start; I care that they remembered what they had done, moved with it in a natural sense, accommodated unforeseen circumstances with verve, and brought the whole thing around in the end like it had been planned. Storytelling is full of happy accidents - Kate Austen is one of the strongest characters the show produced, but I am pretty damn sure the writers didn’t make her that way on purpose; she is a combination of fortuitous casting and happy-accident writing - a measure of quality in a creator is the ability to recognise and embrace happy accidents, and allow the writing to support what functions well while discarding or altering that which gunks up the gears. And if there is one final word of praise I have to speak for this show, it is that as wild and strange and wonderful and esoteric as it could be, it ran with a truly impressive smoothness. Except for Jack. 

Basic souffle recipe that I just googled and have not tried so don’t blame me if it sucks. No lengthy preamble.

[kabbalicgay]

Rambling about transness and shit under the cut . Lemme know if ya see .

At this point I give such little fucks about transness in the eyes of cis people or other trans people cuz I literally just wanna live my life and present the way I want to , without having to acknowledge what other people expect or want from me (irt physical appearance and what I “should” do as a trans person) .

Nonbinary is such a vague and boring label but I don’t fit into any other label there is so I’m more or less forced to stick with it . And it’s annoying cuz even though I’ve stated multiple times I am nonbinary , people still fucking push their ideas and standards of binary trans people onto me .

Which is also unfair on binary trans people because they should be allowed to be gnc and free with their expression and transition as anyone else , but unfortu-fucking-nately a lot of y’all are still obsessed with this binary of “trans people either do this OR this” and don’t allow for anything that deviates that two way binary .

Like , being asked why I want to take testosterone if I don’t ID as a man or strictly male-aligned person is so fucking . Amazing to me . Not in the sense of me being surprised , but in the sense that y’all can be surrounded by a diverse and far-reaching community , have ready access to resources , and still have the gall to think that you gotta tick certain boxes to deserve or want hormones or surgery .

Dysphoria isn’t intelligent . Dysphoria isn’t woke or smart or whatever . It’s an emotion ; it is a pure and fucking raw emotion , and one you can’t reason with . So even though I would just love to tell my dysphoria that I don’t need certain physical characteristics to love myself and be comfortable with myself , and feel like I’m expressing my gender and identity , I can’t do that . Dysphoria hasn’t read leftist theory . It hasn’t grasped radical trans discourse . Dysphoria isn’t a sentient , rational being .

So when I say “I want testosterone , but only for a while because I don’t want x y z” , or that I probably won’t be presenting very masculine , or that after top surgery I’ll probably still buy bras and try and look feminine physically -- that’s not an invitation for you to come in and ask me why I want to transition . I was born in a way that has made certain wants and expressions difficult , and born in a way that is difficult to not only be taken seriously irt identity .

If I was assigned “male” when I came out of my mother’s womb , I have no doubt I would still see myself as nonbinary , and feel the same way . I would still be trans regardless of what gender I would have been assigned at birth . The narrative of “oh if I was born a [insert “boy” or “girl” here] , I wouldn’t be trans” doesn’t apply to me (and is a pretty bad and inaccurate way of looking at things but anyways) . I would have always been nonbinary . I will always be nonbinary .

Anyway . This is long and dumb but I had to get it out lol

[antrozay-blog]

Jackie’s Back

That is a great way to start this blog post, coming off The Breakfast Club interview with the Legendary Jenifer Lewis. I LOVEE her! I’ve watched that 1:03:11 long interview no less than 7 times since it aired a few days ago online. I’ve seen almost everything Jenifer has played in expect the movie Jackie’s Back. So I found it on youtube and watched it for free. The movie is basically about a has-been singer who never was and she’s trying to make one last comeback. I feel that premise fits my life perfectly right now. It’s about midnight right now and I needed a few hours to calm myself down before I even wanted to start this post. I’m typing this in the legendary notes app on my phone. The plan is to copy and paste to my tumblr blog. I will see if I want to do that, but as for now me typing this is just being used as an additional outlet besides me talking to one of my instructors Kevin and my mentor Miguel. I’m currently listening to Sweet Sexy Savage by Kehlani. It is one of my favorite albums released last year that I feel deserved a Grammy. CTRL by Sza too, but we are not here to talk about that. What I am here to talk about? I don’t know where to begin. Ill start with what currently happened which brought on my current hyper/hypo emotional state and I will work myself backwards. Today was suppose to be the day that I finally take my state boards exams for my barbers license. (Shit I don’t think I told y’all I was in barber school this whole past year. A nigga really did what he said he was going to do!) I didn’t go because my model called me literally an hour before we were to leave to the testing site, saying that he was ill with the flu and that he was not going to be able to make it. I kinda had a feeling that this was going to happen. At 8am I got a text from him saying he was up throwing up all night. So I’m like ok, it’s 8am and testing isn’t until 6pm so that should be plenty of time for him to rest up and get himself together for this. Basically I went the whole day just praying to God that he get better and everything goes as planned opposed to studying and reviewing like i had planned. I’m not mad...I can’t be. He was ill and you can’t control that. I believe his story. He’s not the type to lie. Plus he was soo down to help and be apart of everything I have been doing. He used to come to the school and get his haircut by me. It just fucking sucks when I was literally right there. Finally going to complete it all. And everyone knows, or probably doesn’t know that I was suppose to been have gotten my license. I started at the Barber College Feb 2017. I graduated (well i competed my 1800 hours) in Feb 2018 like the course catalog said I would. It was a good experience that ended too fast in my opinion. I met some great people there; people that I will consider my brothers for life. I don’t think i will give an in-depth review on the school itself. I don’t feel like it. So like I was saying, I competed my hours in the middle of Feb. I didn’t get my diploma until March because I still owed $1500 on my tuition. I had the money but I wasn’t in a great rush to pay it off because truth be told I didn’t have any barbershops lined up after completion so I didn’t rush paying it. When I finally paid it off, I was suppose to schedule my testing for my license immediately. Most people already have their dates already set up for like the following week of being totally finished with school. I didn’t go right away because I didn’t have a model lined up. You’re suppose to have a model that has to fit a bunch of different requirements about age, how much hair they have to have, how much hair you have to cut off, and they do a background check and a bunch of extra shit. It’s a big thing and it was hard to find the perfect model that fit and also that can be available during the testing time which is a whole 3 hour process. Fast forward to April when I knew that I was putting this shit off for way too long and it’s time to get serious again. I’ve been doing a few house cuts here and there and also working in a barbershop called Platinum Cuts on the weekends while still working my restaurant job just enough hours to pay my bills. I knew I still had shit to do in regards to my license. After asking everyone I could think of to be my model, and getting no’s, I finally found one person. Ok bet! I got my model. I told him everything that was told to me about the requirements, background check, testing center location, testing time and all that. And i’m like “are you sure that you can do this?! once i submit your name and pay my fees you have to be my model, i can’t cancel, change models or reschedule without forfeiting the fees that i have to pay.” Roughly $200. He’s like “yes, I’m available I can do it.” Mind you, I gave him the two dates that were offered to me for testing and the testing time on the 2nd of May wasn’t good for him because he needed work done on his car. So we chose the 16th. That worked better for the both of us because i still needed to study and review all over again. Plus at the time of us scheduling, the 2nd was like a few days away. Everything was going good. I was texting back and forth with him just letting him know don’t forget, asking if everything good with him and his car and shit like that. Just staying fresh in his mind so we can get this shit done and over with. All of this for him to cancel literally last minute. FUCK! This is all just embarrassing. Having technically been done with school since Feb and I’m still not licensed nor working consistently in a barbershop. It’s a real self esteem killer. Most of the guys that I went to school with are in shops or have started their own shops. They are making money and prospering in this field and i want to be just like that. I have so many people on my side telling me how good of a barber I am, how inspiring i am, and that I should be doing a lot more than what i’m doing now. I totally agree. I need to be working consistently, cutting consistently and challenging myself everyday. I know that it’s all coming from a place of love. You have to want it for yourself. I can honestly and vulnerably say that I haven’t felt the most confident lately i’ve basically been in dark cloud of depression since Feb. I haven’t felt this low since before I started Barber College, somewhere around the time of my last post probably. It’s a huge transition from Barber College. I totally understand how university students get depressed after graduating because they can’t find jobs and end up moving back home. I can humbly say I was one of the good students there, especially towards my last few months. Im not saying I was the best hair cutter, I wasn’t and will never claim to have been. I was good. i had clientele and stayed busy for the most part. I was doing like 8-10 haircuts on a regular day. Slave labor without pay lol. I was consistent with my attendance. Which was very helpful because all the other guys that were better than me were not consistent with their attendance. Some of them have been going to the school for years. Some are even still there. The school is designed to be a one year program. I think some people think of it as their job. We could accept tips up there so they might be banking. I was pretty damn good for barely cutting hair before I started. I could do a line up, an all even and trash taper. I was cutting my own hair for 5 years prior but never cut anyone else’s hair. I was trash then compared to now lol. Growth. But going from feeling like you the shit, being told you’re the shit, being hyped up daily, having people watching you and asking you questions to actually starting at he bottom in a shop with no clientele is a major shock. That shit really had me in my feelings and questioning myself, others, my skills and it this shit really for me. It’s not the shop that I worked at (past tense) because it’s been like 3 weekends since I’ve gone back and I don’t think I want to go back. The shop owner was actually my barber from middle school up until I met my barber/mentor Ronnie in 2009. So I’m familiar with the owner, Q. He had his own shop for 10 years and he’s the only barber in there. He’s had people work beside him from time to time over the years but no one ever stayed long. He’s already got his clientele on lock. My shop expectations are: be surrounded by people i respect and get along with meet people I can learn from and take advice from be in a shop that allows growth, creativity and room to just do and be me. I don’t want to say his shop didn’t offer none of that but again, his shop is his shop. not really a full staff of ppl kinda environment. I’m looking for a shop with a lot more traffic and walk ins. When you are just starting out cutting hair, that’s what you need. Walk ins to help you build up your own clientele. let’s everyone in the shop know you can cut and they see you cut. I’m not going to talk about the hotep conspiracy theories i had to listen to. The hotep youtube pastor we watched on tv daily in there who’s favorite topics were feminization of the black male and gays. But I’ll lowkey take all of that over the hood ass shops that my weak ass town has to offer. Also I wasn’t a fan of the percentage I was paying to cut there. When first starting out you usually pay a percentage (commission) until your clientele is up enough for you to pay booth rent. I’d rather just cut at home and be able to keep all my money. I want to find another shop to work at in the meantime before I move. Oh I don’t know if I told y’all, I’m moving to Atlanta in August. I put 6 months on my apartment lease back in Feb. It’s a lot of things that I could be doing to push myself and better myself right now to get me out this depression, but I feel like why should I put in that hard work now when i’m just going to be moving away in a few months. Getting established in a shop, building clientele that I’ll prolly only cut a few times. It’s just a lot going on at the moment in my life and my focus is everywhere, yet still no where to be honest. I know what kind of barber I want to be and what type of environment I want to work in and I don’t think that Lansing has that to offer me. All my school mates know this to be true too. They know I’m different. lol. So with my fingers crossed, I’m hoping that Atlanta will treat me right. I don’t want to talk to much about Atlanta because I’ll save that for another post. Hopefully not a whole ass two years or whatever. But I will when I get settled in or when I remember that I have a blog lol. I want to stop blogging only when I’m like knocking on depressions basement door trying to get out and blog more happier feelings and thoughts. Kehlani’s album just finished playing. I think I’m going to wrap this up with my last topic; support. Why don’t we support one another? I know that I shouldn’t be expecting or seeking support or validation from others, but fuck, we all wanna get our ego stoked a little bit. we want feedback and an occasional YASSS. I do expect something. I feel like i support, have supported a lot of people. I like your music, retweet your pictures, subscribe to your podcasts and give you your life when you deserve it. I don’t get that in return. Just like this blog, i’m glad i’m doing it for the betterment of be and not for y’all to car about me. No one would probably read this anyway. There is a handful of people that truly support me. I can count on one hand. I’m so very thankful for them. Then there is the people who see my haircut pictures online and won’t like them but in person will mention to me how dope I am at cutting. Then that’s when they give that fake “when can you cut my hair” but when I call them on it and and hold them accountable for asking for a cut and tell them to come thru, they all of a sudden busy or not responding anymore. I hate that. Sometimes you need to feel a little boost and a little support from others. Affirmation. Just a simple like, retweet, or a “I see you nigga!” comment. Something. I don’t want to say it’s hate. I don’t like to use that word and I don’t want to believe that people actually hate on me. I think people need to get comfortable in themselves and in what they are doing so we can show love to one another. idk. I’m tired and I’m probably not making any sense right now. I don’t feel like proof reading this and uploading it to tumblr either. Good night.