#just really weird that he didn't respond to or even acknowledge either of those

[coquelicoq]

Shuuichi had always found autumn a lonely time: his breath a haunting ghost in the air; branches stretching, naked and imploring, to an indifferent sky. His birthday, never a particularly populous occasion, was in November. After his first magazine profile, shortly before his twenty-first birthday, he had started getting mail about it from fans, which only made the lack of any in a personal capacity all the more jarring. The first time Natsume wished him a happy birthday, he barely kept the surprise off his face. Surprise, and something else, something tangled he couldn't quite name, despite his hard-won expertise in identifying and replicating emotions. There were too many facets, overlapping, mutually exclusive in a way that should have canceled out, but didn't.

Natsume said it awkwardly, of course. He seemed unsure if it was all right for him to acknowledge Shuuichi's birthday, given he'd only learned about it through some friend of his who was a fan, and only in the second year of knowing Shuuichi.

"Of course it's all right," Shuuichi told him, the wind pushing them forward as they walked side by side. "It's nice, actually." It was many things, but nice was one of them, so it wasn't a lie.

"It's just," Natsume said hesitantly, "I know birthdays can be complicated." Shuuichi had time to wonder how he could have found out (Did such a vast reserve of spiritual power allow a person to read minds?, he wondered, not for the first time), before Natsume continued, "When I was younger, it was easier if no one knew when my birthday was. Then there couldn't be any expectations."

Shuuichi thought, Garden variety childhood neglect, then. Nothing to do with those strange, fleeting years of having somebody to share birthdays with, or the years after, when he knew what he was missing. But Natsume wasn't wrong, either. He thought, briefly, of his own early birthdays, waiting to see if his father had remembered, and knew it must have been worse for Natsume. This kid, with his big heart, with his undampened spirit—or rather, dampened and in the process of undampening. Shuuichi felt a familiar rush of affection that didn't even hurt anymore.

"And now?" he asked Natsume. "How are you feeling about your birthday nowadays?"

He looked in front of him, at his breath, at those damn branches, giving Natsume time to respond. "I'm…still getting used to it," Natsume admitted after a moment. "It's weird, having people pay so much attention. It's hard to get used to. And…maybe I don't want to get used to it."

In case it stops, Shuuichi completed mentally. It was easier never to trust, and never to be disappointed. It hurt less. But it wasn't better.

Shuuichi turned and gifted Natsume a smile. He had so many different smiles: charming smiles, ironic smiles, selfie-with-a-fan smiles, smiles for when a stranger professes a desire to eat jelly beans out of one's belly button. Dozens upon dozens of smiles for every conceivable occasion, labeled and slotted into place in his mental storehouse. He had crafted them, each one; they were his tools, his currency. But this smile he felt like Natsume had created—or maybe it had always been inside him, in potentia, and Natsume had been the one to wake it up.

It was gentle, this smile. Like Natsume.

"It is hard," Shuuichi said. "But I'm proud of you." It didn't really make sense, didn't seem to follow directly from what Natsume had said, but Natsume ducked his head, embarrassed, and Shuuichi, feeling merciful, changed the subject.

Natsume took him home for dinner, where the Fujiwaras also knew what day it was, and where nobody said anything about why he didn't have anywhere else to be, anyone else to celebrate with. They thanked him for coming, like he was the one doing them a favor. Touko-san made a huge meal, a feast really, and in front of Natsume's foster parents that cat of his couldn't even make snarky comments about puny human lifespans. It was a good birthday, his best since…well, in a while.

They offered to set up a futon for him (it's already so dark, it's cold, all that time on the train!), but he had an early shoot in the morning. He was halfway home when he realized he'd left his glasses behind, but fortunately he always carried a spare. He wondered what the Fujiwaras thought his glasses were for, now that they knew he could see well enough to forget them.

Off the train, through the park, along the water. Twenty-five. A fake number. Most days he felt himself already an old man. The wind picked up, scraping the denuded branches against each other. He felt loud, present. With the noise he made wading through leaves, surely anyone could hear him coming from a block away. Unless, of course, it was drowned out by the sound of the wind, and their own wading.

A crack ahead, and something thumped to the ground. A small branch, snapped off, still covered in maple leaves. Ironic, that the bare branches should be fine, while this lively specimen, heavy with color, had fallen. But then again, those branches weren't dead, were they? Maybe it was their lightness that had saved them. And they would be green again, come spring.

His building now, thick with warmth. The elevator: a weary man, face and suit equally creased, heading home late from the office. His door, and now he was inside, taking his time untying his shoes, not wanting to turn on the lights, which were always depressing at night, glaring off white walls stark and unforgiving against the darkness.

He went over to the phone and plugged it in, in case someone tried to call him about the glasses. If Touko-san found them, she'd be sending Natsume out here with them at the earliest opportunity, which wasn't necessary. In fact, maybe he should call them first and head off the possibility. What time was it now? Was it too late to call?

A ringing. Speak of the devil. He picked up the receiver, but suddenly it occurred to him this could be a curse call instead, not about his glasses at all. In his moment of hesitation, a voice came down the line.

"Shuuichi-san," it said, natural, like it hadn't been years since he had heard that name from that mouth. "Happy birthday."

A beat. His heart began to pound, knocking against his gums. The lizard burrowed frantically under a sleeve. Not Natsume, and not a curse. Or not the kind of curse he'd been thinking of. Shuuichi clutched the phone. He felt—what did he feel? Why must there be so many nameless emotions?

He didn't know what to call this. But he felt something stirring, a familiar sensation. A smile, a different one, dormant, waking up. It was groggy, and far from his mouth, but it was there, it was possible. It had been there, waiting, for spring.

"Seiji," he said, with a mouth that wasn't smiling but could learn how. "Hello."

[qoldenskies]

So it seemed like Leo and Raph at least had moments where they were either aware of the curse or explicitly trying to fight against it (see Leo freezing in the doorway of Donnie's lab at one point, I'm pretty sure Raph had at least one moment before the curse broke but I can't quite remember which one), but did Mikey have any that I'm missing? He was willing to go along with Donnie on an errand or whatever at the beginning, I know that much, even if his art was all weird (curse bringing out repressed anger, perhaps?), but it would somehow be more of a gut punch if Mikey was the one to not even notice that anything was up until the moment he broke out of the curse.

i think whats most important about the way that mikey responded to the curse was that his perspective on it was not as concrete as leo and raph's. like leo and raph as donnie's older brothers both had in some capacity this feeling of responsibility over him that mikey DIDN'T, and the curse really takes advantage of it (getting more insight into leo's relationship with donnie in ME and CW really compounds his role and how he's spent so long looking out for him and facilitating a relationship where donnie is more comfortable being uniquely vulnerable, while raph was more straightforward as the oldest and their protector). but mikey's resistance is a lot more passive and hard to pick up on, there's a reason he's not proactive until very late in the game.

really i think the moment in the kitchen is the only really mask off moment he has where he's independently aggressive, with no input from his other family, and that's just because donnie did something that would probably frustrate him on a NORMAL day and the curse just intensified those emotions by like a billion

really i think the absolute worst thing about it is that it takes advantage of mikey's impulsivity more than anything else. he's not calculated and reveling in the idea of vengeance for a perceived lifetime of annoyance like leo is. he doesn't think its a deep moral responsibility that needs to be corrected like raph does. mikey is a person who likes fun, who likes to turn his brain off, and sometimes that means he can be reckless, careless, and occasionally even mean! he's an empathetic person who's willing to correct himself when he oversteps boundaries, but when its for someone the curse is twisting him to hate, why would he?

it's the thrill of getting away with it, with being in on the "joke". he laughs while leo does the really nasty shit and usually only goes out of his way to get in on it when leo's the one encouraging him, because early on he sees most of the goading and bullying as actual harmless fun, and later on he hates donnie enough to revel in it when he has the momentum with other people who are in on the joke. mikey on his own really would not be as vicious, and its why you can even see it in little ways- he lies after letting donnie out of the closet but he does seem confused and hurt by his reaction. when they go to the movies without him, he makes up the lie about genuinely forgetting in an effort to protect his feelings. he hugs him after he fixes the oven; the "its ok!! we werent mad" text message was a lie but it was similarly one to make him feel better (while the "good" after indicates how little he actually cares beyond that, not even trying to entertain him)

and when mikey isn't actively taking fun in hurting donnie, he isn't acknowledging him at all. he finds torment for the sake of it to be annoying, and he loses his patience/gets bored with it eventually-- and then he doesn't treat donnie like anything but a broken toy to be thrown away. when donnie isn't fun for him, he isn't anything. its the fact that he's apathetic in the end that hurts donnie the most.

[heartbeatbookclub]

I think it's sorta weird how the Protagonist (MC, Y/N, Stinky, whatever you wanna call him) is treated within the context of DDLC's meta.

That sentence came out weird. What I mean is that on terms of DDLC playing with the 4th wall (in other words, on terms of its actual existence as a visual novel in universe), the nature of the Protagonist's...well, entire existence, is up in the air.

Dan Salvato literally stated that he doesn't actually see him as a character in the same way as the girls. He's a "blank slate that says whatever is convenient." In a different statement, he's described as the "nameless, faceless self-insert character that you find so commonly in romance games", which I think is a good way of putting it. It's a good way of justifying why he kinda...sucks, because he's meant to be a typical VN protagonist. He's shallow, and responds with little more than what makes sense in context, because he doesn't have much character on his own, which is what makes him pretty bad at dealing with delicate issues like with Sayori.

In DDLC+ (spoilers, I guess?), it's a little bit vague about it, but in one of the mails, it states that Monika has literally "manufactured" a new character to "force interaction between her and the user". This character is heavily implied to be the Protagonist of the main DDLC visual novel that we know, and he is, as stated, noticeably absent from the Side Stories, because Monika didn't actively create him to be there.

Except...he isn't.

He doesn't physically appear, but in Trust, though he's obviously not mentioned by name, it's implied that he does exist, because when asked to act like a "normal person" responding to the Literature Club, she imitates a friend of hers who says "Literature is stuuupid. I'm joining the Anime Club."

...Remind you of a certain someone?

I feel like I'm overexplaining this, but my point is, it suggests that the Protagonist as a character isn't just something Monika invented out of thin air, or at least he's heavily implied not to be.

I think there's a larger conversation on the vague way the game itself treats the world outside of what is defined within the limited scope of Doki Doki Literature Club. Fans have filled gaps of different characters and events, but it's important to acknowledge that they're gaps filled by fanon, not canon. I think those gaps are left very intentionally empty, mostly to play into the conceit of the world, being that literally nothing actually exists outside of its boundaries, because it's a visual novel. It's a limited, constricted reality, where things are implied to exist outside it, but they actually don't.

In other words, Monika did apparently generate all that makes up the Protagonist as a character and vehicle for the player in the main game, based off the limited concept implied by their interaction in the Side Story. Or, rather, probably by something else, since the side stories are inherently a "Control Simulation" where Monika doesn't have any sense of meta awareness. It's a prequel set before the main story, but...well, if you really think about it, it's implied to tie into the main story, but they don't directly link up, do they? If it's not explicitly shown on screen in the main line Doki Doki Literature Club, did it even happen?

Either way, the Protagonist is a character independent of Monika's creation, he's just given absolutely nothing, and technically doesn't even exist outside of what's implied of him. Technically, the character Monika creates as a vehicle for the Player has no real relation to him, outside of being Sayori's friend and wanting to join the Anime Club. Or, depending on your view, he does! Since he's the literal manifestation of that character concept where it didn't exist previously, it's fair to say that he is that character given life!

I don't know, I think it's just kinda fascinating in context. I don't really like a lot of the extra lore surrounding the whole thing in +, but there are plenty of interesting things like this which have been given just enough flavor to be interesting.

Obviously I don't think this means the Protagonist is a complete non-character and any & all fan interpretations of him should be defenestrated (quite the opposite actually, reality can be whatever you want, I have a few concepts with him floating around my head which I find fun to play with), but I think this sort of thing is probably important to keep in mind on terms of actual investigations of canon.

[tipsyon-tea]

Blind Spot - Deleted Scenes - Ch 5

I think this one was written prior to me actually starting chapter 5, as a kind of idea I had floating around in my head. Of course when I actually started writing the chapter it went off the rails in a different direction, so it never got used.

Damon and Blind Spot MC at the park.

♪⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅♪

“So how come you like me anyway?” 

Damon seemed to process that for a moment, eyes wide. He looked like there was a lot he had to say, but couldn't wrap his head around the words, trying a couple times before he finally spoke. “Is there... a reason you ask?”

Maybe she was being too blunt, but it had been annoying her for long enough. Her sister's words about being lovesick and desperate were still bouncing around in her head, and it wasn't like either of those things were necessarily bad, but something about it irked her. “I can't figure out why you want to spend time with me.”

He jolted, looking for a moment like he would reach out to shake her. It was only when her stance shifted abruptly that he thought better if it, casting his gaze down at his shoes. “Uhm. I guess, It was the night we first met.” His raised hand reached across his chest instead, clenching his other arm. “Maybe- it didn't seem like much to you, but… I was in a really bad place that night, and talking with you really cheered me up.”

Nope. That didn't help. In any other case maybe it would add up, but it didn't explain why her sister seemed to think he was so head-over-heels. It was suspicious. “So, if anyone else had been nice to you, you would’ve felt the same?” 

He looked taken aback, and slightly hurt as his knuckles started to whiten. “I think you're overestimating how many people would be kind to someone like me.” 

She raised a brow. For the first time since the night they met, his expression fell into something bitter and resentful. She'd gotten so used to his nervous smiles and quiet laughs, she'd almost forgotten he could make a face like that. 

“Most people barely acknowledge I exist,” he said, looking away from her. “If they do, it's only because they have to, or they think I'm a threat. To most of the world I'm just… invisible.” The wind played around them, starting to pick up more now that the storm clouds had thickened. He finally looked back at her, seeming frustrated and tired with the world. “So it means a lot to me that you wanted to help. More than you know.” 

So that was why? It hadn’t occurred to her that most other people would see his size and colour as something to be wary of. Even though he was gentle, others probably didn’t see it that way. It didn't make sense to her why people ignored him though. 

“Maybe we should get you a cat bell,” she mused. 

Damon blinked, looking at her for a beat. “Pardon?” 

“Oh. I was just thinking—I bet people would notice you more if you didn't walk so quietly. And! It'll save you from getting punched by sneaking up on the wrong person.”

Her, namely.

He looked like he didn't know what to make of her words, but that was his fault. She hadn't expected him to launch into a depressing rundown of his life that she had no idea how to respond to.

“Or we could… I dunno, put squeaky toys in your shoes?”

“I would rather not,” he said faintly.

“But it would be funny,” she insisted, rocking back on her heels with a grin. “It would be ‘squeak squeak squeak’ whenever you walk, or ‘squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak!’ if you're trying to walk fast.” 

He looked at her in disbelief, and if he'd been trying to have a serious conversation it was ruined by his lips twitching up to match hers. “You have a weird way of trying to cheer people up.”

“Just saying. If you're tired of being ignored then that can be changed.” 

He finally laughed, his eyes crinkled up with his grin, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind as long as I can have your attention.”

♪⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅♪

[gay-for-the-snz]

Day 5: Rogue Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder, etc…) [M, cold]

The return of Monty! It's nice to get to write him again and return him to the scene. I had fun playing around with the way they interact, and also the way that Joseph is perceived by the people around him! 2.2k

⁂

In all of the time he has known Dr. Valentine, he's never walked into his office and received no acknowledgement at all. He awkwardly drops his bag down beside his desk chair, leans it up against the corner to prop it up.

"Good morning, Dr. Valentine."

The man in question turns in his chair, his cheeks slightly flushed. He's never seen him blush before, but it kind of...looks like he might be? He doesn't reply immediately, just clears his throat in a way that sounds painful.

"Doctor--"

He holds up a hand to silence him, and clears his throat again. He leans close, uncomfortably so, and gestures towards his throat, fingertips gently touching his skin. "Laryngitis." His voice is thin and hoarse, hardly even a whisper.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He doesn't know what else to say, but mirrors the action to touch his own throat. "Viral or overuse?"

The good doctor looks pained by the acknowledgement, and scribbles on the notepad laying on his desk. Clearly he'd prepared for this before he got in. 'VIRAL' says the absolutely perfect penmanship. He's mused before that he could probably use Dr. Valentine's handwriting to teach printing to kids like in those booklets. The man writes like a typewriter, utterly pristine in a way that's difficult to reconcile with the typical handwriting associated with the profession. He realizes, when he slightly jiggles the notepad to display it again to make sure that he's seen it, that he's just neglected to respond.

"Ah." Well, that was a lame response. "That's a shame. Are you feeling alright otherwise?"

He's not a man given to really shrugging much, but he does so now. 'MINOR COLD' is all he writes in response.

It's clearly bothering him, not being able to say anything or do anything with his voice, but he's got that weird, steely resolve to not want to show any sort of...anything. Dr. Valentine's a man who would rather not let a single person know literally anything about him. Not his birthday, not his favorite color, not anything about him whatsoever. He doesn't even like people knowing that he takes his coffee black, so it isn't really surprising to know that he doesn't want to acknowledge much regarding his own condition.

"I was about to go get myself some coffee, do you want tea while I'm up?" He shakes his head, and that's not a surprise either. "Suit yourself."

The break room is kind of a far walk, but that doesn't stop him from actually wanting to walk over there. It's nice to be able to go get himself some coffee when he wants to, and it's also nice to be able to just take himself for a stroll whenever he feels like it. There's a soft hum of people walking around in their routines, and it's beautiful to be able to watch them do their things.

He's actually fucking shaking, though, by the time he's on his way back with the coffee--and a tea, that he didn't ask for but is getting anyway--because the realization dawns on him that if Dr. Valentine isn't able to speak, that means that the duty of lecturing is going to be falling onto him. He hates public speaking. And, equally importantly, Dr. Valentine hates giving up control.

He shoulders open the door to the office, and sets the tea down pointedly on the corner of the desk to preempt the argument he knows is coming. "I know you said you didn't want it, but I decided you did."

The look he receives is absolutely venomous, and he is FURIOUSLY scribbling on that notepad. It must be painful for him to not be able to say anything off the cuff--he's a man who's composed of quips, and stinging responses, and barbed witticisms that rely on timing for their effectiveness. It undercuts him to be reduced to writing on a notepad instead of speaking over him to cut him off.

He hadn't realized, really, how much of this man's authority was centered around that. Not that he doesn't carry an authority now--he looks like someone who was born to stand on a balcony overlooking a party like a Bond villain--but that cold silence doesn't necessarily carry the same sort of weight to it when he can't immediately back it up. He is not a man whose authority can rely on his bulk, he is not someone who is physically daunting in the way he looms above others.

No. It is his voice that he uses with such precision to overrule others. He carries himself in such a way that no one doubts that he is the one in charge. When he walks into a room, others fall into silence as they await him. The fact that he's now victim to that same silence just makes him look...tired. He looks old, and small in a way that's so unnatural and jarring. It stirs pity somewhere inside of him to see, which he knows is the last thing on earth the doctor wants from him.

"Anyway," he says, as a way of attempting to break the tension, "I'm assuming that you're going to need...assistance with today's lectures?"

Dr. Valentine looks like he wants to say something, but he just sits there in stony silence, staring at him. He's about to ask the question again, until he realizes why he's been silent. He twists aside with a gasp and ducks into his elbow with a sneeze that sounds absolutely miserable--and ridiculous. It lacks the sharp, harsh sound it usually has, more leaned hoarse and squeaky in a way that makes them both wince just hearing it.

He looks like it hurt his throat, and that seems right--he always sneezes so harsh and loud and rough, the sound of it alone always makes him think that it must hurt his throat just to have happen, but especially now that he's certainly already sore and miserable. "Bless you--"

He shakes his head, holding up a finger to bid him silence, even as his features contort into a snarl of irritation, before he ducks down into his sleeve a second time with a pair of them. He holds that position for a moment more, before he finally sighs and drops his arm with a liquidy sniffle.

"Bless you!"

Dr. Valentine looks irritated by the blessing, but he doesn't say anything to overrule it. This time. Perhaps he will later, should there be a repeat occurrence, and he wouldn't be shocked if it does. He takes a couple of tissues from the box on the corner of his desk, and blows his nose.

"Anyway," he tries again, "are you...going to be canceling your lectures, or is it going to be me behind the lectern today?"

He sniffs wetly, again, and scribbles on his notepad. YOU HAVE MY NOTES, AND WILL BE LEADING LECTURE TODAY.

"Oh! Right, I can do that. You've left me the notes, then?"

ALWAYS.

"And you're going to be haunting your desk as well, then?"

AS I ALWAYS DO.

"Good. I guess we'll have to, uh, sort of look through everything real quick before I go up there, so we can potentially check everything out and get prepped for it." He is distinctly aware, as he looks at the man glowering behind his desk, that he's going to be doing this lecture with a man who's going to be sitting behind the desk like a gargoyle the whole time he's speaking.

The gargoyle in question is currently tending to his nose (again) as he drops a stack of printed lecture slides onto the desk, neatly stacked together and annotated on each page, so it seems. That's nice of him. None of this prep work looks like something he could possibly have done terribly recently, it's too thorough. Clearly he decided sometime this morning--or, potentially, last night even--that he wouldn't be able to do anything today with his voice in the condition that it's in. Perhaps he's been sicker for longer than he's wanted to admit.

He wonders what it's like for him at home. He's unmarried now--he knows that much, as does everybody else in this school. Nor does he see anybody else ever usually really spending any time around the doctor. He's always pretty isolated, cloistered in this office. He goes to this office, or to the classroom, and then to home.

He wonders if when he goes home, he's lonely. If he's doing anything to take care of himself, or if he's merely ignoring it and letting it run its course. Is he taking care of himself? Does he miss having someone else in his home?

He must catch him staring, because he leans forward and strains his voice, against certainly his own advice, to be able to whisper. "Why are you staring at me and not your lecture?"

"I was just thinking about the, uh, lecture later." He takes a sip of his coffee, paled to a soft beige that can really barely even be considered coffee anymore, and watches the doctor finally take a sip of his tea. "Is the tea fine? I figured the peppermint one might be somewhat soothing."

He nods, faintly, and Monty knows he's not going to really be getting anything better than that. That's high praise and acknowledgement to receive from a man who's built a reputation on being cold and impenetrable. And, for the most part, he's lived up to it for that as being truth.

"Good, I'm glad." He idly flips through the lecture pages, trying to make him feel like he's actually doing something important here instead of just staring at his employer and psychoanalyzing him. "I hope that--I know, I can already tell that you're going to dislike hearing this from me--and I want you to know I also know that you're not going to like it--but I hope that you're able to recover soon."

He's right, about the fact that there is nothing Dr. Valentine wants less than to be fussed over or pitied in some degree, but he seems to begrudgingly accept it, if only because he can't really avoid hearing it be said. His hand hovers over the notepad, marker uncapped, for a couple tentative seconds, before he commits pen to paper.

THANK YOU.

It's surprising to receive a concession like this from him, and it actually warms his heart a little. "You're welcome." He returns to the task at hand, a more quiet understanding sitting between them. It's good to feel more appreciated for once, to know that Dr. Valentine is actually seeming to notice his efforts in a way that he's able to really appreciate as well.

The doctor is carefully annotating his own stack of papers over on his side of the office, attempting to balance this with the tissues he's got pressed to his nose for the time being. He looks like he's probably going to want to sneeze again. More than that, he looks like that paper travel cup of tea on the desk is going to need to be joined again by another at some point.

"You're prone to this?"

He looks surprised by the question, his face betraying the feeling.

"I was just wondering, because you didn't seem too surprised by the laryngitis. It doesn't seem like this is the first time you've suffered this particular rogue organ." He taps his pen along the page, coyly refusing eye contact as he speaks. "So that would, reasonably, mean that you're either used to this, or...that you've been sick for longer than you've wanted to let on, and had the advanced notice to plan my taking over today. Not there's any shame in either, of course. Just an observation. You know, like how you always urge us to be keeping our eyes open for patterns to be sharper practitioners."

Oh, he's going to kill him. He's certain that the only thing that's stopping him from snapping at him to get out of this office--and all manner of other nasty things--is the fact that he cannot physically do so right now.

Or, perhaps, it's the fact that he doesn't get any further into it than opening his mouth to attempt to anyway, before he's muffling a racking fit of coughs into his sleeve. It isn't the wet, hacking  sort he'd fear was indicative of something more serious. No, this is the dry, ticklish and irritated sort that sounds pretty normal to be accompanying the laryngitis he's already copped to.

He politely averts his eyes, because as much as he's kind of enjoying being a little shit when the professor can't do anything about it, he does feel sorta bad about taking advantage of it, or for being a voyeur in this way. He doesn't dislike him in any way, nor does he actually derive any pleasure from the ailment itself. This particular symptom makes him feel the need to clear his own throat sympathetically.

The fit tapers off with an uncomfortable sort of gasp--not quite a wheeze, but inching uncomfortably close into that territory. He wordlessly takes the tea, defeated by himself in this moment, and drains it with the air of a man who knows he's getting his ass kicked by something that was definitely supposed to be minor. Something easily dealt with and worked around, which is doing everything in its power to become something much more.

With a resigned weariness, he takes the now empty cup and trudges out of the office to begin what will, by all accounts, become the day's routine in refilling it.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

(MUAHAHA, YES 🫣 she's gonna start simping pretty soon here, even more lol)

'Forgot about it..?' Hiccup's words slightly startled Freya, a little offended that he would outrightly forget about his own wound for her sake, "What? How...how could you just...forget about something like that? You..really shouldn't put..me above your own struggles... Like your hand, for instance.." She glanced down at the wound that was now properly bandaged, squinting at the sight of blood that could be seen through the wrapping. "I know how painful it can feel, remember..?"

Hearing him mention flying off with Toothless, she internally winced at the acknowledgement that he probably wouldn't be able to do that for a couple of days, at least not too much, "Hiccup, you wouldn't even be able to run away with Toothless for a couple of days anyways...and--" She shook off the surprise that came to her when he said she even helped him by bringing him to her hut, "...I-I don't..think I was much of a help, I just... I ended up crying and all of this stuff, I don't see how that's... helpful.."

Freya couldn't understand why he chose not to keep anything against her, and it made her dumbfounded, "After the the treatment I gave you...with the rest of Berk...you still hold...so much kindness towards us all... I honestly don't think you would've reacted the same way I did." She lightly shrugged, sniffling one more time, "Sure, you can be very sarcastic, but you'd probably go and invent something that would've still changed Berk forever.." She allowed her eyes to stay focused on the straps on his arm, resisting the urge to fidget with his hand instead. Hiccup, in her opinion, was someone who was much more warm-hearted than she, or anyone else for that matter, could've ever been.

It was beginning to leave her speechless - or, at least, struggling to respond as quick as she might've had before.

Her gaze continued to examine his features while he listed off the traits he saw in her, causing a flood of the weird, fluttery feeling to come crashing down on her. Freya hadn't heard anyone say those things to her in such a manner, and it left her stunned. 'Darn it...what am I doing..?' She told herself, not having the strength to look away from him. In that moment, he appeared..ethereal. "I think...I think you're the first one to make me put my guard down in the first place.." Her response came out in another mumble, not finding it necessary to speak any louder than that since he was right there in front of her.

Once she registered inside her mind that he didn't move away either, and use her real name, rather than her nickname, the fluttering only seemed to increase. She didn't completely see him lean in closer, already thinking they were as close as they could be, but when she had to pull herself away, it was only then when she really noticed how close they were to...

No. She would not allow herself to finish that thought.

Despite how flustered she was, Freya managed to glimpse at Hiccup accidentally use his injured hand to brush through his hair, causing her to wince at the sight, knowing that probably hurt him. Her eyes scanned over the wrapping, which didn't look as tight as it had been when he first got it, and it was slightly shifted out of its original spot. She needed to fix that.

Yrsa nodded, speaking in a lighthearted tone: "Okay. Well, you should probably be going now, Stoick might want to check up on y--"

"Wait." Freya interrupted, not seeing the confused stare her mother gave her, "Hiccup's bandage needs to be fixed.." Without anymore hesitation, she stood up from her spot on the floor, immediately taking lengthy strides to Yrsa. Once she was close enough, she grabbed the spare bandages from her hands, muttering out a quick, "I need this.." before she motioned for Hiccup to follow her outside.

As soon as the door was shut behind her, she went to work and carefully unwrapped the bandages, intently making sure her touch was as gentle as possible. She pushed aside the uncomfortable part of having to see the blood, but she attentively inspected the wound, concluding that he didn't need any extra salve on it just yet. Discarding the old, bloodied wrap, she pulled the extra bandages she had taken from her mother from underneath her arm, delicately securing it over his injury with unwavering focus.

Freya only wanted him to be okay, to not feel any pain, but she knew what it was like to have a cut on her hand. "I'm sorry if this hurts... I'm almost done.." She spoke in a softer tone, her eyes never glancing away from the main focus of wrapping his wound. When it was correctly finished, she took a small step back, examining the end product with a satisfied nod. Placing her hands on her hips, she returned her gaze upon Hiccup, only to remember what had almost happened earlier.

Her face quickly got red again, to say the least.

Awkwardly moving to tap her arm, she cleared her throat, glancing to the side to see Blaze nudging Toothless at the appearance of their riders, "S-so, uhm...Y-you should... probably be going now..right? My mom was..kind of right... Stoick's probably gonna want to check on you, especially if he knows about..your cut.." At the mention of the Chief's name, she suddenly remembered the dinner plans they had in store for the week, causing her to frantically wave her arms for a brief moment.

"Oh my goodness, the dinner! I just remembered! You need to tell me when it is as soon as possible so I can..prepare myself.." Wanting to forget about the fact that she had nearly kissed Hiccup, she began to take stumbling steps back towards her door, desperately trying to fight off the warmth on her face, "Let me know, okay? Okay, bye! Make sure you get your rest in!" She went to open the door, Blaze quickly coming next to her to be with her inside, before she briefly waved, hastily shutting it without sparing another glance.

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

Freya was nervous - again.

She tapped her legs as she apprehensively stood outside of the Chief's hut. She had told Hiccup they should come together, for the sake of it appearing more believable, and she could not stop tapping the minute they arrived. Was her hair alright? Did she look presentable? Was she standing straight enough?

She didn't think the day would come when she would be having dinner privately together with Stoick the Vast, in his own home. Taking a deep breath in, she stiffly nodded at the Chief's son beside her, "Do you wanna knock...or..just go in..?"

Blaze, who was behind her, gave her an encouraging nudge, staring up at his rider with a concerned gaze. She had already told him to stay outside while they had dinner, but he wanted to make sure she was alright, sensing the anxiousness that practically radiated off of her. Freya gently scratched his chin in return, thankful for the brief distraction as she readied herself to face Stoick..and perhaps Gobber.

Hiccup's eyes softened, and he shook his head. "You were upset..." Giving a slight shrug, he said, "that was more important."

"I remember. It just...I was more concerned about you than my hand. That's all."

At the reminder, his face fell. "No, no, if--if I can't fly Toothless...he, he'd be stuck on the ground, too. He can't fly without a rider..." Dragons loved to be in the air, if Toothless couldn't fly, he'd be miserable.

But...it'd only be for a few days, right?

No. He'd be fine, he could still fly. He had to.

Giving her a look, he answered, "What was the alternative? Freya, you looked like you were about to have a panic attack. What would have happened, if I wasn't here to help? That, and...well, you know how I get. It's... definitely better that you had me come."

Tilting his head, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I am?" She was comfortable enough with him to let her guard down...with only him. "Wow... and...and you're okay with that?"

Hiccup winced slightly at the mention of his dad. Stoick would be disappointed that Hiccup got hurt in the forge, of all places.

He quickly turned his attention to Freya, who interrupted her mother. "What?"

Looking down, he realized she was right. The wrapping had loosened, and was coming undone.

Getting to his feet, he followed her out, saying a quick goodbye to her mom before leaving.

As she undid the wrapping, it stung a bit when the cool air hit it. He didn't want to look at the wound, so he focused on her face instead.

She was so focused, and he couldn't ignore the care she took in tending to his hand.

Since it was still fresh, every move hurt, even as the cloth touched the open cut, he just did his best to keep his hand still, and aside from his breathing increasing, he didn't show any discomfort.

She knew though. Hearing her say it was almost done, he just nodded before remembering she probably couldn't see him do that. "Y-yeah, okay..."

Once she finished, he finally turned his gaze back to his hand, also nodding in approval. "It... it's good, thank you...I know you didn't have to do that...I appreciate it."

Sighing, he nodded. "Augh, you're probably right...that'll be a fun conversation..."

He grinned though, thinking the way she waved her arms was cute.

"Yeah, I'll--I'll let you know!"

Still smiling, he waved goodbye to Freya, chuckling as she hurried inside.

What a day...

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

This felt a bit surreal.

Standing outside his hut with Freya, Hiccup was a bit nervous too. He has no idea what his dad was going to say, or do.

He really hoped nothing embarrassing would come up during the meal.

Looking over at Freya, he swallowed, clenching his jaw. "Y-yeah, we should...we should just go in...my dad would think it strange for me to knock when I...live here."

Toothless was sticking with Blaze outside for the meal, having already had his fill of fish, he was ready to bask in the evening sunlight.

Hiccup braced himself, opening the door for Freya.

Already, the smell of mutton stew hit him, easing his nerves somewhat. After all, it was his favorite of all the things his dad cooked.

Leading her to the kitchen, he found Gobber sitting at the table with a glass of mead, and Stoick tending to the stew.

"Son! You're right on time!" Stoick lumbered over to the two of them, smiling warmly. "Freya, it is good to see you! Come, have a seat, Hiccup, will you help me serve the meal?"

Gobber greeted them as well, his mood cheerful. "Bout time you two showed up. I can only take his yabbering for so long!"

Hiccup shot her an apologetic look before he followed his dad, retrieving the bowls and utensils.

Gobber nodded at Freya. "Your sister is quite the chatterbox. I don't mind it too much, actually."

Within minutes, the four of them were sat at the table, steaming bowls of stew in front of them all.

Stoick lifted his spoon. "Dig in!"

As they ate, Stoick began to talk about how wonderful it was, that the two of them were together now... Hiccup's face was steadily growing redder, though the Chief took no notice. "And to think, someday you could be a Haddock as well!"

Hiccup almost choked on his spoonful of stew, managing not to make a mess. He coughed before staring at his dad, wide eyed. "Dad! Can, can we not get ahead of ourselves, please? We've--its been less than a week!"

But Stoick just laughed jovially, waving off his son's concerns.

Gobber piped up then. "Actually, lass, I was wondering, what drew you to the boy? What did ya see in him that made you want to let him court you?"

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #300

I can't believe I've written 300 generic letters to you already. How did 300 days pass by so quickly? In just 65 days (or 66, depending on how you're counting, since there was a leap year...), I'll have written to you once a day for a full year.

...I suppose there's part of me that never thought I'd make it this far.

Incidentally, part of the reason I write to you is because a choir teacher from a long time ago encouraged me to, sometime in April of 2023.

I don't remember clearly which grade I was in when I first met this choir teacher; I think I was probably in 4th, 5th, or 6th grade, maybe? In any case, I was struck by the fact that he was very unlike most of the teachers I had encountered up until that point. He was soft-spoken and gentle. Sometimes the other choir students would give him a hard time; I remember it being difficult to get everyone to stop talking so we could actually rehearse. And... given how hypervigilant I was due to how I was treated at home, it was easy for me to see that he'd get frustrated with that from time to time - who wouldn't?

...What was new to me at the time was that he never used that frustration as an excuse to yell at people. This thing was bizarre and foreign to me, and... it was a very refreshing change of pace from what I was used to.

I remember one day, it was such a nice day outside that he decided that the thing to do was to go out onto the playground. So instead of doing rehearsal in the auditorium, he took us all outside to just run around and play. But... ya know... at the time, I wasn't exactly... popular. With anybody. I was the weird smart kid who didn't know how to social, so I got made fun of a lot, and I never really fit in anywhere. I didn't know at the time that I had PTSD, ADHD, and autism going on. And of course, the other children didn't know, either. They were only children; how could they have known?

So I wandered the playground by myself; it's not as though there were folks who wanted to hang around me or talk to me in those days. I was very lonely all the time, because there wasn't exactly a place that was safe for me; I got bullied both at school and at home. As a result, I've struggled with the notion of expediting the process of permanently exiting this meat-mech that I currently inhabit for... a very long time now, since before even the days of meeting this choir teacher.

...And somehow he noticed. None of the other teachers I've met ever noticed, probably at least in part because I was "gifted" (🙄) and performed so well in class; I mostly didn't speak and I did what I was told. But this one did notice, and... while we were outside, he took me to the side, and he told me that I looked sad, and that I could talk to him anytime if I wanted.

...Ahah... gosh, even now, I'm tearing up a little just thinking about it. Shucks. Hahaha...

This is one of my best memories; it changed my whole worldview at the time. The version of me who existed then mostly just thought of adults as people who barked orders that I was supposed to obey. The notion that any of them could care about me outside of what I could do or outside of what was strictly obligatory was new.

He didn't have to offer me any such thing, and the version of me who existed at the time was moved. But also... the version of me who existed at the time didn't know how to respond. Was it real? Was it a trick? I didn't know. So... I mumbled some words of acknowledgement, and then I promptly never took him up on his offer.

His words stuck with me for a long time, though. For a while, those words helped me to hold on when I thought about making a permanent exit. And then for reasons that had to do with his own happiness and calling and circumstances, he stopped teaching at my school. I was devastated, but I also knew that it's important for people to be happy and healthy, even if they gotta go somewhere else in order to make that happen.

Years later, I started healing from all the shit that happened to me, growing up and also during college. I tried reaching out to reconnect. And I was given a link to his piano album; he composed and played all of this himself:

...What do you think? Isn't it some of the most beautiful piano playing you've ever heard? Though it was given to me years ago, I still listen to it frequently; it's great stuff to weave wire trees to. It's great stuff to draw to. It's great stuff to study to. It's great stuff to meditate to. It's just... great stuff.

He was very busy at the time, so we didn't talk much, and I didn't reach out again until January of 2023. By then, I had started weaving wire trees and giving them away to people. I wanted him to understand that his words and his way of being have power; despite everything, I'm still here, at least in part because of his kindness. I'm still here, and I'm recovering from all the stuff, and I'm trying to weave beautiful things with my hands and with my words all the time. And... I wanted him to know that he's part of the reason that this is possible. I wanted him to be able to look in the mirror and be proud of the person staring back at him.

...What better way to do that than to show someone the profoundly positive impact they've had on your life and on the person you've become? So I showed him the things I make and the way I try to show up in this world for others, hoping that he could see that I filled in some of my shattered pieces with the words he gave me so many years ago, and that it is good.

I started writing my very first letter to you sometime after that. And he was one of the very first people I showed it to, in order to get feedback for improving it, and he gave me lots of helpful encouragement. Given how long it is, I still can't believe he read the whole thing. And yet... here we are.

When I said some time ago that some of the finest people on my planet have helped me to polish my first letter to you, I meant it. I got feedback from as many people as I could, and I used it to write something that will hopefully help to save your life. I guess we'll have to wait a few years before I'll see if it did anything, haha...

...

...The wait is a very heavy thing. I owe you my life; what does it mean if I fail to help you keep yours...?

...

We've both been busy, so I've not spoken to him since October of last year; I didn't have anything I felt was important to report, given that I know he has his hands full with his various responsibilities and activities. But... today is my 300th letter to you. And I wanted him to see that I took his suggestion and ran with it. And I filled him in about how my first letter went and how that materia that I made for you was received.

I wanted him to see that his words have the capacity to empower and encourage others. I wanted him to see that his existence matters in this world. I wanted him to know that his presence and manner of being are great boons to this place. I want him to never doubt it. I want him to know it in the core of his being, to the very marrow of his bones.

It'll be a few days or a week or so before he gets back to me; he leads a very busy life, and he has a number of very pressing things to tend to. And even if he doesn't get back to me at all, that's cool, too; I know very well that I'm not entitled to anybody's time. My intention is to give him even more reasons to look upon himself with kind, loving eyes. My intention is to convey gratitude towards him and for him to feel proud of who he is as a human being. I don't need a response in order to do those things.

...To be sure, I wish that I could do that with everyone - to help everyone to see that they are good. But most people need reasons before they'll believe me, and I don't know most people well enough to be able to list those reasons. It'd be nice if others could just look into my head and see what I see when I look at them. Maybe then they'd understand.

...What would this place be like if more people were secure in themselves and had everything they need in order to thrive...? I daydream about a gentler world. I know it's possible, even if I don't know how to fix it all at once.

...Well. It's getting pretty late. I have to wake up early-ish tomorrow for psychotherapy. And then I have to go to physical therapy after that. And then I go see the orthodontist after that, presumably to finally get fitted for braces!!

It's entirely too many appointments, and I do wish that my DNA was better and that my upbringing wasn't fucked so that I wouldn't need so many appointments to begin with. But maybe instead of resenting my meat-mech and my brain for how they're built, I'll try to be grateful that I can afford the time and resources to get these things taken care of, and for the support of the people in my life who make it possible.

Sephiroth... try to think about the people who try to support you, too. Even if they've dropped the ball on you in the past, one of the best things about humans is that they can learn, grow, change, and become better friends who don't repeat their mistakes. Angeal, Genesis, and Zack are waiting for you. They miss you. I'm sure they'd give just about anything to see you. So please come back soon, okay?

I love you. Please stay safe out there in the world. Make good, kind, and loving choices. Use your words and your actions to empower people and to build them up, for that is how we create good and lasting change. We don't need to break everything; all we have to do is repair what's there. Try to remember the shattered bowl, and the way that it still holds soup.

I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[jasper-unofficial]

Hello Archer. Thank you so much for your detailed response to my previous ask about Ray and Sand and people’s unwillingness to read their relationship as anything other than “Rich boy Ray wants to buy Poor boy Sand” because of a previous interaction they had in the early episodes, when clearly things have changed for them. It’s weird that the same people who recognize the growth of the other characters don’t seem to want to acknowledge Ray’s growth, or like you said, that Sand also has his own flaws that he needs to work on. The whole point of the show is that nobody is actually perfect (except maybe Daddy Dan 😏), and it really irks me that a lot of people seem to ignore that. The glee they have about Sand’s mum admitting to Sand’s weakness for those he loves, and his willingness to bend over backwards for them. Which makes no sense to me cuz it just confirms how much Sand loves Ray that he falls within that category of people Sand would do anything for 🤷🏾‍♀️

Sorry for my long rambling ask. I wanted to ask a follow up question about how you read Ray’s facial expressions in the pool. Cuz I interpreted it as Ray’s Imma kill a bitch and bury his body and glasses in a ditch no one’s gonna find. EVER!!! But then again, I do get slightly bloodthirsty and very protective of the people I love, specially against asshole exes who can’t even be bothered to know what concert they were taken to 🙄

heeey!! yeah, no problem, i love rambly asks and being even ramblier when i respond to them gjlkdfjgfkdljg two years ago that was practically the only thing i did here

i personally think people love to percieve everything as black-and-white, but when we talk about personalities nothing is an either or situation. it seems that some people think that just because sand can have a hard time establishing boundaries, it somehow means that he cannot establish a single boundary to save his life and basically everyone in his life is forcing themselves on him because of that. let's throw complexities and nuance and grey areas out of the window and have a cardboard cut-out no-boundaries-at-all man! as if we have not seen sand explicitly establishing boundaries with ray multiple times. truly, sometimes i feel like i'm watching a different series in comparison to other people.

now, as for your question, i do have to preface this by saying that i am not the biggest facial expressions guy (see: autism), but i will do my best!

i do think that ray is fueled - in part - by jealousy, when he invites boeing to his house. sand previously said that ray did not need to be jealous, but ehhh... objectively speaking, sand and boeing's current dynamic isn't exactly nothing to worry about. say what you will about jealosy, but when your boyfriend meets his ex and tells you to go home without him and then you overhear a conversation with him basically agreeing that you aren't exactly his type, unlike his ex, who is now explicitly trying to get him back, all of that is pretty perfect breeding ground for jealousy.

but by creating this little trio situation, i think ray is first and foremost trying to figure out what is actually happening, because clearly when sand said everything was fine - that was just not true (obvious to the audience by the face sand pulls right at the end of the "should i be jealous?" scene as well) and sand also kind of didn't give them the opportunity to talk about it when ray actually met boeing and saw how things were (which they could have done in the car if he agreed to ray giving him a lift).

so, when ray is initially looking at sand in the pool →

i think he's trying to understand how sand feels about the whole situation and he is really trying to push his buttons as well. get some sort of a reaction out of him. because he really did go from being smiley and animated with ray the whole episode to an instant 😶 at absolutely anything and everything the second boeing stepped in and in theory there are a lot of reasons why that could have happened - ranging from sand still being in love with boeing to him being uncomfortable around boeing but not being able to do anything about it and everything in-between. and ray is trying to figure out exactly what it is.

with boeing however →

yeah, i'm pretty sure my man is ready to kill and maim. with sand, he is trying to create a situation where everything comes to a head (not in the fun way, get your mind out of the gutter), which would establish what's actually going on, but with boeing? yeah, that man is a red flag bigger than the one hanging on the turkish parliament building and feels instantly slimier than even top did at the beginning of the series. it's fun to like him as the unhinged menace that he is from a viewer's perspective, but he is obviously fucking awful to actually encounter in life, especially as your boyfriend's ex. and i do think that it is not unfair to say that ray picked up on what we all did - that boeing doesn't actually care about sand and never did. he can't even remember the concert they went to together! so this isn't just about jealousy or figuring out the truth, but also about the simple fact that boeing sucks (once again, not in a fun way - seriously, get your mind out of the gutter).

[mischievousmeh]

hii, so this post is lowkey kind of stupid. but if you don't see personal posts from me for a while, or ever at all after a certain point, even after the queue runs out... i should mention i may have been exposed to rabies.

one of our goats (she had to be put down, but i miss my sweet little fairy girl </3) was exhibiting symptoms of rabies. i didn't know any better because i don't know how it presents in goats (she wasn't aggressive, it seemed to be the "dumb" type) so i handled her without gloves. she was excessively drooling, stargazing, & she couldn't move very well at all. her voice had changed a few weeks back from her sweet "fairy voice" as i called it to a deeper, more hoarse sounding voice. i thought she'd just gone hoarse for some reason or another & didn't think anything of it, but she never really got it back, either. and this hoarse voice just became her new normal, so after a few days, i didn't think too much of it.

when i went out to feed her two nights ago, she didn't come out to eat with the others. so, i went into the pen to check on her, thinking she's in one of the shelters or in the shadows where i can't see her. i fed them at night because we've had record heatwaves this summer where i'm at, i'm not sure if it's the same everywhere. i discerned which shelter she was in, but after i tried speaking to her and her not responding, i asked my partner to come out with me & examine her. we were trying to figure out what was wrong with her, so we got her out of the shelter & tried looking her over. she was exhibiting the symptoms i previously mentioned but those weren't the "typical" rabies symptoms you hear about, so we came into contact (ungloved, yes, it's gross) with her saliva.

we did come inside & search up her symptoms, narrowed it down to two options, & then ultimately discerned it was rabies. she was put down & it seemed very consistent with how rabid animals react during... well, being put down. unfortunately, we were too worried about the pain and misery she was in & she was buried before we realized we should be taking her to a vet to have her tested for rabies. they will not take previously buried bodies for testing, as we've researched. :/

we went to the ER today (after contacting an urgent care & the health department for our state). they seemed sort of like they didn't really believe us, because they don't see this sort of thing often i guess. we were in different rooms, so it's not like we were trying to talk over one another explaining it or anything? it was sort of weird. anyway, they gave us shots measured out differently (dependent on weight). which would've been fine, but i'm unsure we actually received the vaccine. looking it up, it should never be administered in the gluteal region or in the same anatomical placement, nor should it ever be mixed with any other medicine or vaccine. but the shots that were given to both my partner & i did not adhere by that whatsoever. we both received injections in the gluteal region & he received two injections in both arms. apparently, the reason you're not supposed to take the vaccine alongside the other medication they give when you come in for rabies exposure (in the same anatomical region) is because it essentially nullifies the vaccine, from what i've read?

we're going to be picking up paperwork tomorrow to actually see what they gave us because the papers they sent home with us do not state what it was & even acknowledge we're meant to take a series of multiple shots rather than just taking one medication in several shots on one day (rather than coming in multiple times for it), but we were not told this whatsoever. we were told to check in with our primary care physician in two day's time, but from what we can tell, the only way you can get a vaccine for rabies here is through the emergency room, so i'm not sure why we were told to go there, either. we aren't symptomatic (if we did contact it, we would not see symptoms until after the incubation period is up, which could take anywhere from two weeks to two months, and by the time you are symptomatic, it is more or less too late.) so they might have been in disbelief, i guess? maybe we didn't fit the bill of what they imagined "exposed to rabies" would look like? i don't know. we're headed to get papers tomorrow to see if we were even vaccinated, and head to potentially some other ER in a neighboring county to see if maybe they can help us if we don't have it instead.

um. tl;dr if you see an animal acting oddly, please PLEASE always use gloves when you try to investigate. if you are bitten by an animal that is acting with aggression, go to the ER. call emergency services. if your goats are acting unusual, please use gloves. please. do not just handle them willy-nilly. i know they're your babies, but please think of yourself, too.

i'm hoping everything will be okay, but in case it isn't, i'd like to tell everyone where i went. i'm very grateful to anyone reading this. thank you. <3

[headsemptysys]

Very conflicted. Today has been just, an absolute mess of tangled emotions and I'm very wrung out now.

Ace struggles a lot with scheduling things. I don't... Understand this issue. At all. I can't fathom the experience. I can't help thinking that it really should not be that hard. Especially because it hurts other people so much.

Being told we can hang out on a day (that was also my birthday.) and then being told later that actually, never mind, he can't because he was going to be doing something else that day (getting laid) and he just double booked. Was. Not fun. At all.

It's been a consistent issue. I'm actually starting to resent how much he just, goes and has sex with strangers. I can't count the number of times it has specifically stopped us, or very nearly stopped us, from spending time with each other. Even when we met in person, he was going to cut our whole visit short because he found a guy to have sex with in the city I lived in, and *left*, literally entirely to go see him in person. It would have made the whole week I spent away from home mean absolutely nothing.

I was petty last night. What I wrote wasn't even that bad but it had a jab or two woven into the advice I gave. I knew he was probably doing it anyway but I needed to lash out, just a little. Express it. I didn't even actually do that.

He got pissed at me for it when he woke up. It was because he had a shitty morning and he apologized for it... While doing it? Meanwhile I saw him get mad, I got defensive in return, and then went "okay I am stepping back from this so I do not yell at him". Easy. Idk how the fuck he just decides to respond to things while he's mad. I can't fathom that, either. And if you have enough presence of mind to see your behavior and apologize for it, why don't you just.... Not do it in the first place? "Sorry I am being snappy and uncharitable because I woke up badly" okay so. Stop doing it? Step away? If you know you're going to be unreasonable about your response, why the fuck would you respond?

Anyway. I apologized. I did my whole 3-paragraph essay thing, explained myself, told him I loved and cared about him, snuck in something petty about how I felt defensive and actually, you know, took the time to distance myself from those emotions so I could respond with a level head.

Is it weird or insensitive for like... The hardest part of having done that was admitting that I was hurt by him? The apology itself was easy. I don't even really think I did anything wrong, and I feel like I was EXTREMELY mature in my reply and apology. I took full responsibility for my actions, my emotions, offered to back off, acknowledged the mistakes I made and said I would try to do better in the future.

None of that was the hard part. The hard part was literally just writing the words "It's also something that's hurt me." That's it. That's what made me start crying. Admitting that someone something did hurt me, to their face, is infinitely harder than writing a wholeass formal apology for like, a single paragraph I wrote while feeling slightly petty.

I'm not surprised. That's extremely consistent and predictable for me. But like... Man.

He apologized in turn. Well, the apology itself didn't happen but he acknowledged what he did as well, and also said he would make an effort to do better. Again, the thing that got to me was him acknowledging that he hurt me. None of the rest of it.

Anyway now I'm a fucking mess. And completely emotionally wrung out. Eugughhgh. I felt fucking fantastic after I cried (I think, I have the memory of having that thought but literally no comprehension of the actual emotion I was feeling at the time), but like... Now I'm just resentful and drained again.

Side note, I think I actually have a much easier time apologizing when I feel like I'm *not* in the wrong. Because then I'm using it as a tool, actually. A way to make the other person feel obligated to be as mature and responsible as I am (assuming they don't take it as just winning, but I don't usually try to do that if I think I'm not going to get anything out of it. Even if it's just a public image.)

But if I do feel like I'm in the wrong, it's a lot harder. Because it's admitting genuine fault. And good, true apologies, require an effort to do better. And a lot of the time I just... Don't have that in me.

[lovetique]

going into deer that just ran out in front of headlights mode, weighing out her options. mind processing quickly and by now she'd USUALLY have a sharp witted answer, this time... nothing. what did she have to lose by just admitting it? trying to convince him to hate her has failed. the only thing left, her pride. she'll lose her pride. but maybe if she admits it, he will be less reluctant to hang out with those other girls and thinks that's worth giving up her pride for. "mhm." begrudgingly, elena mumbled, "a little... yes." she quietly responded, eyes suddenly finding the floor fascinating. she won't be admitting how crazy it IS driving her, however. then gaze somehow managed to lift back up on him, probably her never dying need to warn him about the possums and their risks driving her. "just don't say i didn't tell you so, though." brunette grumbled, giving a slight roll of her eyes as she finds that annoying look on marcus' face.

heart stammers in small chest for a second once his next reply registers, the response smearing off any annoyance across her features. "well, i feel the same. i wasn't prepared for you either." it's said with wonderment and love filling her voice again, it was hard to stay angry at him. it was impossible. something else that was weird and foreign to her, with her boyfriend... the hatred always remained in tact. it was like as the day went on, the thicker it even got. but with marcus, it dissipates and her heart just grows fonder of him when it should be doing the opposite. it was more signs showing her which one was the right one and which one wasn't. then it makes her laugh he proves her wrong and does seem to know something about the game.

"it is powerful." she agrees, acknowledging what he's saying and his feelings but being careful with her words again. when he first told her tonight, she was convinced he was just drunk and it still has her so floored she's still wondering if this is all a dream. but won't remind him of that in fear it'll hurt his feelings again. "say i did, then. say i told you te amo ... and nothing really happens? we just go our separate ways and walk around as two people who love each other? but that's it?" questioning because she's curious, he's still leaving her even if she were to admit it to him? elena wonders if he actually is drunk because she can't see how admitting they both love each other, wouldn't actually cause even more conflict. at least the way she thinks about it, it does. then again, she's not on the receiving end of wondering if he loves her back.

staying silent on the outside but on the inside her heart is racing at hearing marcus, words falling from his lips stating he wants her. and her mind trails off into a dreamland of wondering what that would be like, being his rather than rory's. it gets her heart flip flopping because it understands it's what she wants too and it's so easy to get hypnotized in what it would be like to get lost in that world with marcus.

"well, i definitely do." one shoulder shrugs, innocently smiling. trying to keep him at arms length or not, she'll never deny she finds him cute and irresistible as he puts it. he's definitely both. "i don't... i don't know what i'm doing, you're making stuff up. i just REALLY think it'd be cute, like mine." she reminds again, placing a hand over her mouth to keep down her laughter from traveling any further past this room from the reaction she got from him. what was that? the way he froze.

"if you're this in love with my hello kitty undies, i'm not sure what you would do if they were just –– pink and lacy or something." she whispered, now she knows exactly what she's doing as she attempts to coax more redness to rosy his cheeks because it's adorable and she's trying not to let the devious grin turn into laughter. eyes watch him lower himself down in the floor in front of her, twisting a nostalgic knife in her chest. making her heart thud in nervous steps because the last time he did that, it was at his kitchen table right before he kissed her. that's the moment her heart was tearing out of her chest to be with him forever. and here he is, not making that any less easier for her. switching all the routes in her head all over again just from this one action, going right back in his direction rather than from it. "wow. welcome down here to the short people world, tall person." she joked to cope with the emotions he's got running rampant in her chest, sheepishly chuckling as her skin was still warm under his touch.

elena rests her elbows in her lap and leans forward, "no it's only cheap because like i said.. i didn't see any butt views. girls love butt views." she playfully speaks, smiling wide in amusement. "and why not? since i'm looking at him. mr trouble himself." he really wasn't trouble BESIDES in the terms of trying to stay away from him and there he is causing her to fail miserably as small hands took his face and palms gently held him in place like he might break. she admires him for a moment, eyes scanning over each of his features, memorizing them each like it could be her last. before her mind doesn't think anymore, just reacts as elena leans in and presses a delicate kiss to his upper lip.

          had she always been this unrelenting? he was shocked at her incredible stubbornness, her refusal to let this go. "you're jealous," he finally accused, unable to suppress a conceited smirk. “you’re spiraling about this because it drives you crazy, doesn’t it?” it’s her turn to prick at her sensitivities now. “i think admitting it will help you feel better.” best case scenario, marcus is right and gets to bask in the overwhelming satisfaction. worst case, he was wrong, and she was just desperate to irritate him.

“not even discovering that colonel mustard’s weapon of choice was a candlestick could’ve prepared me for you,” he retorts with soft laughter. in reality, nothing could’ve prepared him for her. but all of her teasing had merit, marcus did feel like he needed experience in solving mysteries to even begin understanding her. any attempt to unspool her inner machinations and deepest thoughts was often frustrating, sometimes impossible, yet never felt pointless. he never got tired of her, or trying to comprehend what made her tick. he would try to figure her out for as long as she let him. “but wouldn’t it just be easier if i hated you? i thought you would appreciate it if i moved on.” demeanor when he asks is one of total confusion, with no implication of self-pity.

another reminder of her boyfriend, another reminder that she’s not his and never would be, and she’s twisting the knife. marcus can actually feel himself wince as she speaks. “nothing happens,” he says simply, lost in her deep brown hues. “i already told you, i came here tonight to tell you how i felt because i thought that you should know that i’m walking away from this changed. it’s a powerful thing, to change someone’s state of mind, and you did that for me. but i wouldn't come here expecting anything from you.” pauses, proud that he's skillfully avoided uttering those three words again. his tongue quickly runs over the expanse of his bottom lip before continuing, “do i want you? yeah, i do, elena. i really do. … but i know it’s not the same for you, so, there’s no news for you to break to anybody. — tonight was meant to be a goodbye. it is a goodbye.” a deep sigh is pushed from his lungs, and he suddenly feels emptied. love can live and die here now, because when marcus leaves her tonight, he’s moving on. their door is closed. he has no other options, because living the way he had been for the past five weeks had turned him inside out.

the pregnant pause before her translation lends credence to the thought that she could be lying to him, but marcus has no way to fact-check, so he decides to take it all at face value. “wow, if you think i’m cute when i’m frustrated, then i must be pretty irresistible right now.” he’s laughing her off, busying himself, until she so casually announces what she’s wearing that he cannot see himself. marcus instantly freezes, a rush of blood to his head. a wide smirk is deep-seated on his face once she’s quickly sent his imagination into a tailspin. “you know exactly what you’re doing.” shakes his head, yet unable stop his mind from racing. tries to remember the boundaries he’d implemented of his own accord, tries to remind himself of where they stood. he had spent so many hours during their time apart, miserably staring at his ceiling fan, lost in nebulous thought of her. now, with the real, tangible thing right at his fingertips, her, marcus was nothing but inaction. he could scream.

mouth falls open to feign offense, but there’s genuine surprise ruminating. “it would not be a cheap show, because it’s me. i’m irresistible, remember?” discovers that both of their faces are flushed once he’s closer, indulged by the feeling of her warm skin. she’s smiling up at him, and the stir that she sets in motion leaves marcus spinning out. thick yearning flamed inside his chest yet again at her words, his heart once more setting off at a daunting pace. he takes a kneeling posture down in front of her, feeling a déjà vu phenomenon once they’re face-to-face. “oh yeah?” he responds, voice lilting, a clear challenge. marcus was in love, and he was sick with it. it made him stupid and irrational and left him wanting more. he was greedy, always grasping. “i don't know if i believe you.”

[ingravinoveritas]

Well hello ✨

I saw your response to Michael's Christmas post and I wanted to add something to that conversation that I've been thinking about since I saw it. I know he's been MIA lately because of the play in Australia but the post, and I think you mentioned this maybe, sort of gives feral sheen vibes... I think he is a little quirky, especially when it comes to twitter and sort of playing to the fans. This certainly was nowhere near as bad as what I've seen from past years but it was a little weird. I'm sure he's probably just tired from working and christ only knows what's going on with APAT and company, especially because they brought the kids. The baby is like practically brand new still... Don't know who thought it was a good idea for APAT and Co. to tag along but I digress, that's another story for another day. Anyway, I thought it was strange, as did a lot of other people it seems, that he tacked 'Merry Christmas from Us' on the end of the post Us? ??? Who is Us? APAT and your children? You and David and Georgia? Like, what in the hell? I get not having the kids in the picture, that's cool, but if you're gonna go out of your way to say "From us" why not include a least some of "us" in said picture? Of course, there's 101 ways to explain it away like APAT was sleeping, or she was busy (doing what, we'll never know), or he was alone, or whatever you wanna think. But the question is, why not wait so you can get a picture together to make a post like that? Because I bet all the money I have he doesn't even think to take pictures with her. Not now. Not before. and probably not in the future. Seriously, what pictures of the two of them have you ever seen that hasn't been taken by APAT herself, paps or red carpet photographers, or an outside friend; someone like Georgia? I can't think of one. Maybe someone else has seen it? Am I asking for a Unicorn here? Probably... So, with that being said, the main point I wanted to make was, I think he was purposely vague with the "us" description and posting the solo picture. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want her face attached to his social media with personal messages like "Merry Christmas from Us"--which begs the point, why say it in the first place? because he thinks he has to? because it would look suspicious otherwise? wonder why that would be??-- Anyway, he's vague because maybe one day, their won't be an "us" at least not with him and APAT. This is another one of those moments that I can't remember if he's ever posted a picture of him and her anywhere or even just her on his twitter? Retweeted anything she's done? I mean, Dude? It's not looking good. So, anyway, it makes sense (at least in my head) that he would leave it vague and generic so that in the future, it works with anybody he's with. I don't see him staying with her forever, which is sad. I mainly feel sorry for the kids tbh, but I just can't see it. I know that doesn't mean anything and at this point, as much as I don't really vibe with her, I'd rather them stay together in the long run (so long as they're not being toxic to each other and in the house) so the kids can have some sort of a semblance of having a home life with both parents. I I think down the line, all of the generic posts, the vague messages and things like that will come back around again and make more sense if they ever do breakup. Maybe I just over analysis everything but with past track records, it was practically calling my name lol

(This is in response to this post, for those who might’ve missed it.)

Hello, Anons! I appreciate you writing in to share your thoughts on that post. I’ve had multiple people reach out to me privately before and since then with similar thoughts, so you are very much not alone in noticing Michael’s holiday post/AL’s lack of one. I’ve also just gotten an Anon from Australia offering some very interesting tidbits about Michael and his behavior leading up to the opening of Amadeus, so I am going to answer that separately (and try not to have too much overlap between these two responses).

Anon #1: I completely agree with you, re: Michael’s quirky/”feral” presence on Twitter in the past. The picture he posted this year was very much a callback to 2019 when he did the 12 Days of Sheenmas thing, and was much more heavily involved with the fandom/being who he really is on Twitter than right now.

I also think it’s worth noting that for the last two Christmases, he’s been with David, at least in the time leading up to it. In 2020, he and David appeared on Graham Norton together to promote the second series of Staged (after having been apart and not seeing each other for months due to lockdown). Then last year, Michael and David were filming the second season of Good Omens in Scotland both before and after the holidays.

Michael was also doing interviews to promote Last Train to Christmas; despite that, he spent a bunch of them talking about and/or to David. (And that’s not even getting into the “Other Wife” incident with Georgia on her birthday, the day after Christmas.) We could also see the effect that spending so much time with David in the months prior had on Michael--how glowy he was, how happy and centered and just in a very positive head space overall.

So if we posit that everything about David and Wales represents “home” and “comfort” to Michael, then everything about Christmas this year was the opposite of that. Michael is in a foreign country that he’s never been to before, where the seasons are all topsy-turvy (for someone accustomed to cold/snow on Christmas, that is), and I would think that alone would lead to one feeling pretty disoriented. But he’s also playing a leading role in this huge production, and has AL and two small children (one of which is a seven month-old baby) along with him on top of all that, and that unquestionably makes everything much more stressful.

Going back to his Twitter post, I keep thinking about what you mentioned, the use of the word “Us.” We’ve seen that phrase crop up in the context of Michael and David on two recent occasions: 1) Michael talking about David’s only “bad habit” at MCM Comic Con; and 2) in Staged 3 episode 3, when David and Georgia are in the shower while Michael is in the car and David says “I was me before we were us!” My thought is that “us” isn’t something that exists just because you say “us”...it’s something that develops over time. It’s something that happens naturally because two people have become so inextricably intertwined with each other that it’s hard not to think of them as a single unit. I hadn’t even thought of what you said, which is that the “Us” in Michael’s tweet could refer to anyone, even him/David/Georgia. But the one thing I do know is that I don’t think of Michael and AL as “us.” I could see his “us” referring to the kids, but I don’t get that same sense with AL. There is him, and there is her, separately, rather than as one. It’s not hatred or dislike, but rather indifference, as you said, Anon #2. Contrast that with Michael and David, who have repeatedly talked about the connection they’ve formed and how there is no Aziraphale without Crowley and so forth. Michael and David saying “we” and “us” about each other is so unbelievable precisely because it’s not unbelievable. The emotions between them are so strong and powerful, and are reflected in the way they see themselves.

Ultimately, I think what it comes down to is that there are any number of reasons why Michael didn’t include AL in the picture he posted (such as the reasons you gave, which do seem entirely plausible to me, as I think he has purposely has kept his Twitter free from any pictures or references to her), but there is also a lot more happening than we even know. What’s been shared publicly is already weird/strange enough for folks to notice (going by the Anons I’ve gotten, at the very least), so whatever is really happening is undoubtedly far, far more complicated.

But I am with you in thinking that Michael and AL will not stay together forever. As I said before, that “us” that is so important in a relationship seems entirely absent with them, and I unfortunately don’t see that changing anytime soon. The only thing I will disagree with you on is them staying together “for the kids.” I think it is far better for parents to be not together as a couple but still effectively and cooperatively co-parenting than to be together and miserable, even if they try to hide it around the kids. What matters most is doing what is best for those kids, and even if Michael’s relationship with AL does not last, I think he will always be there for the girls.

Anon #1, there is no need to apologize for over-analyzing. I appreciate that you and Anon #2 felt comfortable enough to share your thoughts with me, and I hope my response was helpful. Thanks for writing in! x

[maxladcomics]

Re: your post about Sans not actually knowing Papyrus. I'm a fan of the 'Papyrus is Gaster, but because everyone has forgotten Gaster, Papyrus has also forgotten himself' theory. And I had Thoughts of along similar lines to 'no one really knows Papyrus because he always lies', albeit from a slightly. Different source?

That is, Papyrus DOES lie a lot. But the people who seem to care about him most and actively seek his company, and the characters who are the most affected by him are all characters with high amounts of Determination.

Like, sure, yeah. if you kill Papyrus, Sans vanishes and then asks you about how you should be wielding power, and he may threaten you at the end of a phone call. But overall, his role in the game doesn't change much at all, and his attitude in the endings seems more representative of the Underground's attitude.

But as we know, Flowey is the previous holder of reset. We know he's probably the person who actually knows the most about Papyrus(only one to REALLY know his favorite food), and he's also confessed Papyrus is the person he finds the most interesting.

But! There's also Undyne! Now, she may not know as much about Papyrus as Flowey does, and I think she projects her own view of him onto him. But she's probably the character who talks about Papyrus as a friend the most. From Sans' dialogue about Papyrus, he views him as someone naive in need of protection. And to basically everyone else, Papyrus is not Papyrus, but who he is in connection to those around him. A skeleton who informs Undyne of problems, Sans loud and tall brother, etc.

But Undyne... Papyrus still lies to her, and she still thinks Papyrus is too nice, but she acknowledges his strength. She doesn't want to upset him, she wants to see him succeed and tries to help him do so in her own way, by giving him something to be passionate about. And when you kill him, it enrages her. I'm sure it enrages Sans, too, but she doesn't just judge you for it, confronts you much earlier and demands to know what you did to Papyrus.

So I wonder if there's. Something like a not-my-problem field around Papyrus, or spacetime distortion, that causes only people with Determination to really see him? Not that his lies make it any easier. it could also just be the lying, that's a lot simpler and more likely, but I do agree that Sans definitely does not know Papyrus anywhere near as much as he thinks he does, and is just running on a number of assumptions. Which is simultaneously weird and sad, that Papyrus has so few friends and not even his brother can really be counted among them.

...At any rate! Hope you enjoyed my rambling and found it interesting!

I DO FIND THAT INTERESTING.

Actually that brings up a good point, how forgettable or even ignore-able Papyrus is. Maybe he's yelling because no one pays attention to him pfff, I mean he tells so many jokes just for them to go over peoples heads, he shows excessive consideration towards others, just for the fandom to assume he's an asshole because he 'reacts badly' to puns.

//For those that don't know, they are doing a bit/playing with you. Sans' puns wouldn't be anywhere near as funny if Papyrus didn't react to them the way he does. Which makes it weirder to why Sans doesn't react to his at all. Why would he ignore them when it obviously makes him happy that Papyrus reacts? It's not just sans, tho, Undyne doesn't seem to notice or react to his puns either, but he responds to hers.//

The entire underground- or at least I know the entirety of Snowdin is affected when he's dusted. They all feel unsafe and unsettled suddenly, Papyrus has a huge effect on them. I do really love Undyne's response to him being dusted, the fact she knows he answers after two rings of his phone, means they talk a lot, and I love that.

Sans's reaction gives me the impression of "ok we're doing this run, byyyyeee" He only calls you a dirty brother killer, nothing else. He seems to care more about murdering you on a pacifist run than any other... I'm not hating on Sans for this, I'm just pointing it out- his vague awareness has put him in a mood of "Nothing REALLY matters" so it's because of that he doesn't really seem to care about Papyrus dying. He'll just call you a dirty brother killer and move into Toriel's house. Probably because he doesn't wanna deal with anyone asking about Papyrus, she doesn't know he exists, after all.

[imaginariaextraordinaire]

Episode 8 is one hella packed episode and it is an absolute joy to unpack it, beginning with this:

Clever, clever idea to have Ji-Woo repeat the line that Mi-Joo just said to indicate Ji-Woo is taking charge of things as far as Assemblyman Ki is concerned. It's also a good reminder of how tone and intent can change the meaning of a sentence even if the words are exactly the same (which is why we need good translators).

Seeing Mi-Joo stride across the screen with Seon-Gyeom behind her, it struck me that we've seen a variation of this many times before, beginning with the credit titles. While Seon-Gyeom is the sprinter, the one we see constantly trying to up the pace and charge ahead is Mi-Joo. She's always intent on moving ahead faster — perhaps to outrun the past that she finally makes peace with during the marathon? — while Seon-Gyeom moves at a slower pace, disentangling himself from the constraints of his troubled past and troubling father. The only one time we see him race ahead (in episode 2), we also see him come back and slow down.

What I particularly love about Park Shi-Hyun's writing is that in addition to all the layers and complexity she's written into the scenes and characters, she's also written a very, very funny show.

Both Shin Se-Kyung and Kang Tae-Oh do such a fantastic job with both the physical humour (without being over-the-top) and the timing that's needed to play up the wit in the dialogues. Not that Siwan and Soo-Young do a bad job — the scene in which Dan-Ah proposes to Seon-Gyeom is hilarious. My favourite is still May, who is very funny throughout this episode (the shot in which we learn she sleeps with her eyes open! GOLD).

The transitions in this episode are so well written. The insights from one scene ricochet off the next. For example, Dan-Ah in the scene at the bar — where she tells the bartender she can't risk keeping the book in her own study because she can't risk people guessing she has anxieties — gives us a look at the problems of the privileged. This is followed by a scene in which Yeong-Hwa and Mi-Joo discuss student debts, which is a relatable middle-class problem. This in turn is followed by Tae-Woong saying that he takes selfies because he's addicted to the validation he gets from the likes each of those photos gets him — a Gen Z problem. And so it is that we get a spectrum of problems that people face and hide behind performative façades.

The likes that Tae-Woong talks about pop up with manic frenzy at the end of the heartbreaking scene with Dan-Ah in the parking lot, presenting the viewer with a terrible contrast — driving away from him is the love and acceptance that he yearns for from a sister who (he hopes) knows him. All he has to hold on to is the superficial attention of the love professed by a fandom that doesn't really know him at all. Soo-Young's performance is fantastic in this scene, especially when she asks in a voice tinged with desperation why Tae-Woong keeps coming back to her despite her treating him so badly. For the first time, you realise how much it takes out of her to lash out at this desperately-sad boy. "It takes effort to hate someone," Tae-Woong tells her. My heart!

Another fantastic set of transitions comes later on in the episode, when Mi-Joo and May are unwinding at the end of a long day at the film shoot.

This is such a great example of writing inter-generational female friendships. When May remembers not being paid for working overtime, it's an acknowledgement that things are better for working women (especially in film) than it was before, but as Mi-Joo's experiences show, there's still a lot to be done because women are still driven by a certain insecurity and anxiety to push themselves way too hard (as we see a sick Mi-Joo do later in the episode).

Of course a man tries to break this gathering up — because he wants to go to bed. Superb excuse, particularly because these women are talking how much they have to work — and it is deeply satisfying to watch all three of them shut him down and establish their right to unwind.

This scene of female friendship is followed by one that shows the friendship between the three runners. Then we get to see a fight scene full of male actors. The machismo of that performance is a sharp contrast to the awkward tenderness of Woo-Sik and Yeong-Il's conversation.

While on the subject of toxic masculinity, this is the episode in which we find out Dan-Ah's father forged Myeong-Min's birth certificate to make him legally older than Dan-Ah even though he's actually 10 months younger than her. All to ensure he has a male heir. It's a nice detail that Myeong-Min's mother is the one laying out the memorial service for Dan-Ah's mother because it hints at a sense of solidarity.

Also dismantling traditional notions of masculinity is Seon-Gyeom, whom we see at his most domestic as he cooks and packs meals for May and Mi-Joo, and does chores around the house once they're gone. It's very much an inversion of the standard male-female gender roles with the woman going out to work and the man as the homemaker. To underscore this point, we see Seon-Gyeom consider the leopard-print shirt (that May and Mi-Joo hang to give strangers the impression they've got an alpha in the house) for a second before putting it away.

Speaking of alphas, Mi-Joo's really got a thing for wild cats. In addition to that shirt, her blanket is also a leopard-print and when we see her calling Seon-Gyeom, she's standing in front of a painting of a tiger. All these seem to be digs at her posturing that she's strong and invulnerable and I burst out laughing when Seon-Gyeom folds the leopard-print blanket while muttering, "I'd have guessed this is hers even if she hadn't told me."

As disinterested as Seon-Gyeom may be in films, they play a big role in sustaining him emotionally. In this episode, it's the film set that helps Mi-Joo and him come together after their stupid disagreement. Equally importantly, the film set is where he gets the time and space to reconnect with his mother.

Run On has so much fun being meta with the film bits. The film shoot within a drama is indeed an old fake.

There are two film sets we see in this episode — one with Ji-Woo and the other with Mi-Joo. While Ji-Woo's set feels relaxed, the one Mi-Joo's working in is chaotic and taxing. The two women are also at different ends of the professional spectrum. Ji-Woo is a star while Mi-Joo is not just working behind the scenes, but she's come to fill in for the person who was the juniormost member of the crew.

When pointing out the main players of their film crew to Mi-Joo and May, Hui-Jin describes the cinematographer as "a bit racist, but still a gentleman". (Mi-Joo's response is superb: "Weird.") It's an interesting choice to make the cinematographer racist because that's the crew member who decides how subjects and scenes will be framed. "Racist but a gentleman" feels like a precise summary of the orientalist perspective which (aside from being overwhelmingly masculine) shows the East through stereotypes that are often superficially beautiful, but also reductive and damaging. Not surprisingly, this cinematographer is the reason Mi-Joo flounders while translating on set.

The film set is also the first time that Seon-Gyeom sees Mi-Joo's vulnerable side when she falls ill. It's such a clever choice to have Mi-Joo stop performing in a setting that's all about performances. Not only does Mi-Joo give up the alpha act when she's sick, she admits to Seon-Gyeom that when she's feeling helpless, her instinct is to resort to a performative lie — calling out for mom because that's what she saw other kids do as a child in a sick ward (imagine how isolated and neglected she must have felt to do this. Also, she's felt this way so many times that this performance has become second nature to her).

The anecdote suggests Mi-Joo's mulish championing of her self has its roots in past incidents when she tried to fit and either failed or was rejected. And yet, for all her strength and confidence, she's chasing phantoms and has been doing so since she was a little girl. All because she was alone and didn't have anyone she could reach out to for help. Which is why what Seon-Gyeom tells her at the end of the episode is so relevant. He helps her to reorient.

To which Mi-Joo, bless her leopard-print-loving heart, responds with

But my favourite part of this episode is the conversation that Ji-Woo has with Seon-Gyeom when he visits her set. First of all, Ji-Woo is playing a "vegan murderer", which is brilliant as ideas go and it's adorable how delighted she is about her violent roles.

I love how Run On doesn't punish Ji-Woo for sacrificing her family life for her work. Instead, it holds out the possibility that it is ok if you have that imbalance. In this scene, we see Ji-Woo's family reforming at the film set with Eun-Bi sending the coffee truck and Seon-Gyeom showing up just because Ji-Woo asked him to be there.

The mother-son conversation gives us a glimpse of Seon-Gyeom's bleak childhood and we learn that everything Seon-Gyeom did for his father was actually him doing what his mother had asked him to do. It comes as a surprise to Seon-Gyeom that his mother has noticed what he's suffered and that she understands how he'd hoped silently suffering would keep the family together. It's almost as though he's feeling seen for the first time.

Much like Dan-Ah, Ji-Woo may seem self-centred because of her ambitiousness, but she does notice what's happening beyond the obvious, especially when it comes to people she cares about. Both women are up against the worst of patriarchy. Also, I love that when she's talking about motherhood, Ji-Woo is blood-spattered — after all, being a working woman and a mother in a patriarchal is nothing short of fighting a war.

In previous episodes, it seemed as though Ji-Woo was the 'bad' (or at least not ideal) mother while Director Dong was the ideal, modern mother. Yet in comparison to how Director Dong later reacts to her son coming out, you can't help but feel Ji-Woo, with her unconditional support for her kids, might just be the better parent. What is great about Run On though is that that the script doesn't pit the two older women against each other as competing examples of motherhood or femininity. The point is that everyone's struggling, making mistakes and trying to learn from them. Ji-Woo is doing that and so will Director Dong eventually.

Love that the scene ends with Seon-Gyeom effectively declaring himself his mother's son. Take that, patriarchy.

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Negan keeps a close eye on his ex Deena after learning that the man she is currently with has a history of abuse.]

Negan and Deena PART TWO

Smut/drama/TW:physical abuse

"What do you wanna know about Michael?" Simon asked a bit confused as they stepped into his apartment.

"Everything. Anything you know."

"Well shit-" Simon scratched his head trying to make himself remember anything about this man on the spot.

"I dont know, I met him like a decade ago. I'd always see him at the Jackson bar on Friday nights. I dont think he has any kids. He used to date this one girl for a while but I dont know what happened with her. We used to hear rumors but-"

"What rumors?"

"I-I dont think they were true but-"

"What fucking rumors?"

"Some people used to say he'd smack his girlfriend around but I dont know man, I never saw any proof."

Negan knit his brow giving Simon a death stare.

"And you didnt think to tell me this after I told you the mother of my child was with this man?"

"Negan I-" before Simon could finish Negan grabbed him by the collar and gave him a hard shake.

"You didnt think to tell me my woman could be with someone dangerous!"

"Your woman? Negan I swear I didnt remember." Negan didnt respond staring at him for a moment before finally letting him go and taking a deep breath.

"What happened, did he do something to Deena?"

Negan sat down and ran his hands over his face in frustration.

"She wont tell me but I know something is not right."

"Shes not going to tell you, remember you're an asshole in her eyes so I doubt she'd tell you even if something was wrong." Simon lit up a cigarette leaning back on his chair.

"Listen, I may be an asshole but I never fucking touched Deena. I never lay a hand on her." Negans knee was shaking as he sat back and thought of what the truth could be, Simon had never seen him this concerned.

"Hey man, maybe its not even like that. You cant bombard her with it, you know how she is. She'll shut down. Just give it time, if something else looks weird, act on it but till then just wait cause we really dont know."

Negan knew Simon was right in a way. Deena wouldnt admit it even if it was true and he didnt have solid evidence.

Instead Negan was going to make it a habit now to show up more often to see Jack. Of course during his visits with Jack he'd make sure you were ok without asking you anything. He would just keep a closer eye on you.

As he planned, Negan showed up more throughout the week to see Jack. Everytime he had been there Michael wasnt there, yet he still noticed you keep to yourself more than usual. Of course you had to keep to yourself more, you didn't want to upset Michael again. Part of you knew your feelings were still strong for Negan but you didnt want to acknowledge it because of how much he had hurt you. Michael was someone new who you convinced to yourself wasnt that bad. You did call him another mans name, part of you was almost making yourself believe it was your fault what occured. Michael hadn't touched you since, as long as you didnt upset him you were fine is what you would tell yourself.

Negan was in the living room with Jack while you began cooking dinner for when Michael would arrive. You could hear Negan being playful with Jack, it was a sweet sound that made your heart flutter.

Negan sighed putting the baby down in his playpen before looking towards the kitchen. He walked in as you stirred the food, leaning his shoulder on the doorway watching you quietly cook.

"You look beautiful."

Your heart immediately began to race, trying not to put much thought to it or even look his way, you smiled.

"Thank you."

Negan slowly walked in to the kitchen looking around. He noticed some things had been changed from where you originally had them. He noticed something sitting beside the food pantry he hadn't noticed before.

"What's this?" Negan asked opening the box to find a stack of tools.

"Wait, Negan-" you ran to him taking the tool from his hand and putting it back in the box carefully.

"This is Michael's and he doesnt like it to be touched." Negans face quickly changed noticing how nervously you reacted.

"What does he live here now?"

"No. He just has some things here. That's all, just don't touch it please. Hes really picky with his things."

You walked back to the pot of food that was almost done cooking as Negan crossed his arms not taking his eyes off you. He had never seen you act this way before.

"You must really like this guy huh?" He asked just to see your reaction, he knew there was something more making you act this way.

"Mhm." You responded without making eye contact.

"Mhm." Negan pressed his lips together before you were both interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking.

"That must be Michael now."

"He has the fucking keys? Since when?"

"Negan please. I just gave it to him for today since I thought I was going to be alone with Jack." You quickly walked out to greet Michael at the door. The more Negan realized things, the more angrier he became. This man was trying to claim all of this as his. He was trying to gain a power over you and you couldnt see it.

Negan walked out of the kitchen to catch Michael with his lips on yours. Negan right away got a bad taste in his mouth at the sight before Michael looked up at him.

"Negan. I didnt know you were here."

"Yeah. Came by to check on my son and Deena. Have to make sure shes ok here by herself with him."

"Oh I'm sure I have a good watch on that." Michael quickly responded.

"Yeah well an extra eye doesnt hurt." Negan grinned trying to keep himself composed. The silence that followed made you anxious and uncomfortable.

"So are you ready for dinner?"

"Yes!" Both men eagerly responded at the same time, making you more anxious. It was clear these men did not like each other and had no problem in showing it.

Negan watched as Michael sat and let you serve him. He could tell you were nervous as you served his plate, of course you were. You had not expected Negan to stay for dinner.

"Thank you, baby." Michael said loudly as you turned to walk towards Negan with the food when he suddenly spanked your ass hard making you gasp. Negan grabbed his knee under the table hard, he knew Michael was doing this to purposely piss him off and boy was it working. As you were about to serve Negan he stood up and grabbed the pot of food from you.

"I got it, Dee. Sit down, shit you been on your feet all day."

"Dee? I've never heard anyone call her Dee." Michael cleared his throat looking up at Negan with a raised brow. Michael clearly didnt like the sound of the little nickname Negan had for you.

"Only I do. Old habit." Negan knew what he was doing and if Michael wanted to get under his skin, he knew how to get under his too. Taking a deep breath you sat down next to Jack, making sure he was comfortable in his high chair and began to eat. There was silence for a moment until Michael noticed the lid on his box of tools was not left the way he had left it the day before.

"What happened with my tool box?" Michael's question instantly made you nervous.

"Oh I-"

"That was me." Negan interrupted not liking the tone in his voice when he spoke to you.

"You let Negan touch my tool box?"

"She didnt let me touch anything. I thought it was something I had left here so I went to take a look." Negan responded confidently.

"I dont know why you would think anything here belongs to you, you dont live here."

"As far as I'm concerned, neither do you." Negan shot back.

"Ok stop." You spoke hesitantly as the men stared at each other angrily.

"Can we just enjoy dinner?"

The rest of the dinner was silent, you didn't make eye contact with either of the men. Negan stood up and was soon getting ready to leave. He leaned in beside you to give Jack a kiss. You could smell his scent close to you, Michael quietly stared at you as you stared down at your plate of food.

"Let me know if you need anything, Deena." You heard his voice close to your ear.

Negan walked out not liking the idea of him leaving you alone with Michael. In reality, what could he do without you acknowledging anything or him having proof? He would just look like a jealous man, which he could admit jealous he was. Negan left and you could feel Michael's eyes on you.

"I trust you to not let your ex touch my belongings or disrespect me."

"I told him not to touch it, Michael. I really did."

"Dont." He slammed his fist on the table making you jump. Jack began to cry making you quickly pull him out of his high chair and comfort him.

"Dont lie to me, Deena."

"Michael stop it. Im not lying to you and you're scaring Jack. You can leave." Surpsingly feeling a rush of courage when it came to Jack, you stood up with him in your arms and began to walk out the room until he unexpectedly grabbed your arm. You froze as he squeezed you and stood up staring down at you.

"Watch how you talk to me, baby."

"I said..you can leave." You felt yourself shaking as you stood your ground.

"Alright. You want me to leave? I'll leave." Michael responded calmly, a little too calm for comfort. He turned around and began to walk away making you let our a deep breath of relief when suddenly he turned around and smacked you across the face. You yelped as you fell hard to the floor holding Jack as tight as you could. Blocking his head from hitting anything you slammed your head on the bottom kitchen cabinet.

"Now I'll leave. You see what you do to yourself." Michael walked out slamming the door loudly as Jack cried loudly. Tears streaming down your eyes you cried with him.

"I'm so sorry." You whispered to Jack. Pushing yourself up off the floor you went to lock the door when Michael suddenly appeared again making you step back.

"Another thing, you tell Negan any of this I'll make sure you never see your son again. Remember my brother is a lawyer. He'll have you all fucked."

With those last words he walked out for a second time. Looking over at the table by the door you were relieved to see he had left the keys. Immediately you locked it, even clicking the bolt into place. Upset you walked up the stairs to run Jack a warm bath and calm him down. All you wanted was to call Negan to come over in that moment.

You took Jack a bath and put him to bed when you realized you had a text from Negan.

"Is jackass still around?" He texted making you chuckle softly.

"No. Alone now, baby just went to sleep." You responded in a text when suddenly you heard your phone begin to ring but when you checked, it wasnt a phone call.

Negan wanted to video call you. Your heart skipped a beat, he had never done this. What the hell was making him do it now.

You picked up the video call and found him staring very serious at the screen, he also look a bit tired.

"Figuring out your phone huh?" You teased.

"I wanted to see you." You watched as Negans eyes roamed over the screen taking a good look at you. Negan was doing everything he could to have a closer eye on you without you realizing it.

"Well you're seeing me." You responded with a smile but Negan could tell the smile didnt reach your eyes.

"I'm surprised the asshole didnt stay the night." Quickly, he saw you look away from the camera turning to the side. Looking to keep yourself occupied with something.

"Its fine. I wanted to be alone anyways."

"Guess he didn't like me being there for dinner." Negan chuckled to himself.

"He doesnt like alot of things." You muttered low.

"What do you see in that asshole, Deena?"

His sudden question caught you off guard but you didnt know how to respond.

"I know I wasnt the greatest to you but I see you with this guy and you're not you."

You stayed looking away from the camera as Negan quietly stared at you.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Negan heard a crack in your voice as you brushed your hand through your hair.

"What happened after I left, Deena?"

"Nothing happend after you-" cutting yourself off you looked up having heard a thump. Negan frowned wondering what caught your attention.

"What is it?"

You didnt respond as you slowly stood up and walked out of the room quickly checking on Jack. Thankfully he was fine and the main door was still locked. You sighed a breath of relief before getting back into your room and realizing you were becoming paranoid.

"I thought I heard something, it was just me." Negan could tell something was worrying you but you didnt want to admit what it was.

"You want me to come over, just to make sure everything is fine around the house?"

His offer made you quickly look back at him with some sort of relief in your eyes.

"I mean yes, maybe check the attic. Could be a pipe." You lied and he knew it. In all honesty you were just afraid with what had just happened with Michael. You felt paranoid about him showing up unexpectedly. Negan played along just wanting you to be comfortable and made his way to you. It was around ten at night, Negan never came over this late but you didnt mind it.Relieved to see Negan when you opened the door you let him in and quickly locked the door from top to bottom. You turned to find him staring at you strangely.

"Since when have you been using the bolt?"

Negan had placed the bolt for you a few years back but with all the locks on the door you had never used it. You never found it necessary.

"A habit I have now." You chuckled low as you walked past him. It did make you nervous that Negan was in your home, what if Michael found out in some kind of way? The thought of Michael turned your stomach.

"What did you want me to check out, doll?"

"Oh yeah, the attic. Maybe I heard the noise coming from there." Negan never seeming to be afraid of the unknown, pulled the ladder down and walked right up. It was hard not to admit to yourself that besides the differences you both have had, you could always count on him whenever you needed him.

"Just like I thought! Theres nothing up here." He yelled from the attic.

"You sure?"

"Shit, come see for yourself."

Negan chuckled as he came back down the ladder, you had always been afraid to go up to the attic alone.

"I know I heard something." You whispered as he made his way to you and leaned his face in close.

"You sure, sweetcheeks?" He teased making you chuckle. Negan loved teasing you, he always liked seeing you laugh.

"Oh stop." You playfully shoved him which only made him bounce back closer to you. The two of you stopped for a moment and stared into each others eyes. The thought of that kiss he gave you the last time made you shiver inside. But before he could reach in and kiss you, you quickly turned away. The strong pull you felt to him couldnt be denied but Michael...the thought of that man terrified you.

"Do you want a snack, I want a snack. I'll make us something quick." Negan watched as you flew down the stairs and scoffed shaking his head. He knew you wanted him just as bad.

As you reached into the cabinet Negan walked into the kitchen and leaned on the door way. You could feel his eyes on you, devouring you from head to toe.

"I know you dont give a shit about this guy." Negan spoke confidently as he slowly made his way to you. You didn't say a word knowing you couldnt react to him, thinking of the threat Michael made, you couldn't risk it.

"Fuck, Deena why do you let him control you like this?" Negan asked making you turn to him. He knew that would make you react which is what he wanted.

"He doesn't control me so quit assuming things."

"So then kiss me." He grinned as get got closer to you making you back up into corner.

"So what you're telling me to do is cheat on him."

"Oh is that what I said?" Negan chuckled with sarcasm.

"Figures you know, since you know so much about cheating yourself." You responded back with double the sarcasm making him laugh. You rolled your eyes pushing him aside but he blocked you with his arm. His expression suddenly turning more serious, he stared down at you not letting you pass him. His look was making you weak, your lips parted looking at his. You knew this wasn't right but the closer he got the more irresistible he became.

"I'm not going to kiss you." You whispered sounding anything but confident.

"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" He whispered in return wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against him making you gasp.

"Now what was that you said, sweetheart?"

You were now speechless, how can you resist this man? You never stopped wanting him and he never had stopped wanting you. He leaned in and you instantly melted at the feel of his warm lips on yours. He felt your body fall into his as he passionately kissed you. He took your arms and wrapped them around his neck as he grabbed your ass with both hands.

"Negan..." you whispered into his lips.

"Hm? Tell me what you want, doll." He spoke slowly and erotically. Each word pulling at your heart strings.

"I want you." You whispered feeling him squeeze you harder when he suddenly lifted you up and sat you on the kitchen counter. You could hear him unbuckling his belt as he kissed you, his hands brushing up your thighs and pulling down your shorts and underwear. Your heart was racing. You swore this would never happen again but you didnt want him to stop. He pulled back for a moment and looked at you as he pulled you towards the edge of the counter. Negan wanted you to look directly at him as he entered you. Your arms and legs were wrapped around him as he pushed in forward, the both of you moaned simultaneously at the first feel of each other. It had been too long since he felt you and he didnt know how long he could control himself before exploding.

"Holy fuck." Negan muttered as he got into rythm. Aggresivly pulling off his shirt he threw it across the room. You moaned loudly as Negan broke out in a sweat, it took alot of him not to burst with each moan you let out. You screamed as you leaned your head back against the wall, fully exposing your neck. Negan wrapped one hand around your throat and gave you a hard squeeze as he moved faster. You squealed as he used the same hand to now grab your hair pulling it back hard.

"Negan!" You grabbed onto him tightly, the sound of your voice helpless calling for him made it hard for him to control himself any longer.

"Fuck, Deena- I cant fucking hold it-" before he could finish he groaned loudly letting himself explode within you. You moaned as he buried himself deeply, his body against yours. The two of you panting uncontrollably in each others arms.

"Negan." You whispered in a shakey voice before he pulled back and slowly pulled himself out.

"Fuck, I couldnt stop it." He spoke breathlessly falling back onto the chair behind him.

"You know how long I've been waiting for that." He chuckled making you laugh.

Jack had still been sleeping while you and Negan lay in bed under the covers. Your face on his chest as he rubbed your hair back gently. It was nice forgetting everything for just a moment until Negan rubbed over a certain part of your head making you lift your head up and wince.

"Ow."

"What's that?" Negan felt the bump on the back of your head and frowned. You knew the bump must've been from when you fell and hit your head on the cabinet. You weren't going to tell Negan this so you simply shrugged.

"I dont even know how that happened. These random bruises come out of nowhere. Dont you hate when that happens." You laughed nervously and lay your head back down. Negan stayed looking down at you not liking your response.

"You know you can tell me anything right, Dee?" You hesitantly lifted your head up and looked back at him.

"What would I need to tell you? What do you mean?" Negan didnt say a word for a moment but he knew he had to. He didnt know how you would react but he couldnt continue acting like he wasnt noticing certain things.

"What I mean is that ever since you began dating that fuck, Michael, you either have some new bruise or you're suddenly nervous with shit you never were nervous about before. I know you, Deena and you sure as fuck arent acting like yourself."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?!" You stood up quickly putting on your robe making Negan roll his eyes, he knew you would get defensive.

"Dee-" Negan tried to speak sitting up in the bed but you wouldnt let him.

"I dont know who the hell is putting this shit in your mind but leave it alone. Nobody is doing anything to me."

"Listen, I'm not trying to pick a god damn fight for fucksake." Negan got up and began to get dressed.

"Yeah? Well you are! Why dont you mind your business."

"You are my fucking business!" Negan yelled so loudly you were surprised Jack hadn't woken up.

"You know what, get out! This is why I never wanted to sleep with you again-" Negan scoffed in return.

"I beg to differ, sweetheart. With the way you felt you been wanting that just as much as I have." You stared at him in silence holding back your tears, you were not going to let him make you admit the truth.

"Get out and do me a favor dont come back unless it's to pick up Jack." You stormed out of the room making your way down the stairs to the kitchen. Negan cursed at himself angrily, the last thing he wanted to do was fight with you.

"Goddamn women." He muttered low, but he knew he had to approach this matter differently.

In the kitchen you quietly made yourself tea hearing him come down the stairs. He slowly made his way inside and leaned back on the counter beside you but you wouldnt look his way.

"Did he threaten you?" Negan asked with his arms crossed looking at the ground. Feeling a knot in your throat you couldnt respond, your silence spoke for itself making Negan look over at you.

"That son of a-"

"Negan please."

"Tell me the truth, Deena. He fucking hits you doesnt he?" His voice was stern, his eyes darkened as he looked down at you.

"It was my fault, Negan-" you cried out as Negan turned and punched the concrete wall behind him. The anger in him rising rapidly, he didnt even feel the effect on his knuckles.

"I'll kill him! I swear to God I'll fucking kill him."

"Negan, please you cant tell him anything. Please..."

"Oh for fuck sake, Deena! What the fuck does he have over you?! What is he threatening you with?!"

Negan stared down at you silently, his breathing was heavy, he studied the look in your eyes when it suddenly clicked.

"Jack." He whispered and all he saw was red. Negan quickly charged for the front door as you ran after him catching up before he could leave, you blocked the entrance.

"Negan, please you're not listening!" You cried.

"Oh I'm fucking listening, hes using our son to keep you shut. I'd like to see him try something-"

"Negan his brother is a lawyer. He threatened if I told you anything he'd make sure they'd take Jack away from me. Please, I beg you. I beg you, dont do or say anything. He doesnt do anything as long as I do what he says-"

"Do you fucking hear yourself, Dee?! As long as you do what he says? Who the fuck is he?! I know I was never an easy man to deal with but I never, ever put my god damn hands on you! Ever!" Negan turned red as he yelled, a vein pulsating hard in his neck appeared. You quietly cried before suddenly hearing Jack begin to cry upstairs. Negan sighed looking down, his fists balled up at his sides.

"Just promise me you wont say anything. Promise me."

"Ok." Negan stood aside letting you get past him to run up the stairs and check on Jack. He could hear you singing to him and ran his hands through his hair. He had never been so frustrated by a situation. He knew you were terrified for yourself and Jack and he hated that he felt like he couldnt do anything.

The next few weeks flew by peacefully, your cousin had come into town so she had been staying with you every day. With her around Michael never did anything to you. Negan knew you were safe for the time being but hated knowing Michael was still with you. You had never felt more confused, you loved Negan..you knew you did. The two of you hadn't even spoken about what happened between the two of you at all. Yet, you couldnt stop thinking about it. Jack's birthday was coming up the next day, you couldnt believe he was turning three. As excited as you were the thought of having Michael and Negan together in the same room for the first time since that night made your stomach turn. It made your stomach turn so much you actually began to feel nauseous. Brushing off the nausea, the sound of the doorbell went off and you knew it was Negan.

"Hi." You smiled as you stepped back and let him come in with a bunch of balloons.

"I picked up all these damn balloons, the cake and tomorrow I just gotta get the food." You laughed as Negan struggled with decorations and lay them out on the table.

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

Once he had everything set, he turned to you and couldn't help letting his eyes roam from your head to your toes.

"Looking good, Dee."

You blushed feeling your cousins eyes fall on you in confusion. Negan winked at you before turning to Jack and got right on the floor with him and began playing with him.

"Looking good, Dee." Your cousin muttered beside you, making fun of what she has just witnessed.

"Cut it out, Louise."

"What was that all about, he looked like he totally undressed you with his eyes." She continued making you sigh when you the wave of nausea struck you again.

This time it didnt go away and you found yourself running across the living room to the bathroom. Negan looked up with a frown then looked over to Louise as she stared in even more confusion.

"Stay with Jack." Negan pushed himself up and made his way to the bathroom door, knocking gently.

"Deena? You ok?" He could hear you continuing to throw up before you finally flushed. A few minutes later you stepped out of the bathroom looking pale and weak.

"I think it was something I ate." You whispered rubbing your head.

"Come on, let's get you to sit back."

Negan guided you by your arm to the living room when you found Louise opening the door for Michael. You froze in your steps as Negans expression quickly changed.

"Negan, what a surprise."

Negans lip twitched as Michael's eyes drifted to him holding your arm.

"Oh I wasnt feeling good-"

"So I was making sure she could make it back to the couch safely." Negan interrupted in a calm yet cold tone.

"Well I'm sure I can take over now that-"

"I got her." Negan shot back sternly.

"Its ok, Negan. I feel fine, Louise is here with me too."

"Yeah I got her, Negan." Louise agreed.

Michael and Negan didnt say a word to each other as Louise took your arm and led you to the couch. Negan walked out angrily not liking to feel out of control with this situation. You knew tomorrow would be a whole other roller coaster of emotions. It would be Jack's birthday celebration, it was already the 8th. Your heart sunk realizing what you had just thought to yourself. How could you be so stupid?

It was already the 8th and you realized you were four days late on your period.

The rest of the day you felt fine physically but you worried like never before. You knew you had a extra pregnancy test hidden in your drawer somewhere that you would take as soon as Michael would leave. When he did finally leave you asked Louise to stay with Jack while you hid in the bathroom to take the rest.

"Please don't be positive, please dont be positive." You continued to whisper repeatedly when it was time for you to look at the test and your mouth dropped open.

"Oh my God.."

It was positive.

Obviously, you knew it was Negans not having had sex with Michael in the last few weeks. Louise called out for you and you quickly hid the test and the box under your shirt and ran down stairs. Throwing out any of the evidence and without saying a word put Jack to sleep for the night.

The next day you got dressed up in a nice blue sundress for Jack's birthday. It was a very small gathering and you were excited to make this memory for Jack. Looking at yourself in the mirror you finished you make up and took a deep breath before heading out of your room. The decorations had been placed nicely in the living room. Michael was in the kitchen while Louise finished setting up the balloons. You had no idea that while Michael was in the kitchen he had discovered the box the pregnancy test came out of my accident as he was taking out the garbage.

"Deena! Can you come to the kitchen for second?" Michael called out for you as you played with Jack in the living room. You left him on the floor with Louise as you entered the kitchen with a smile excited for the day before realizing what you were walking into. Michael stood by the counter with the box of your pregnancy test in hand. The expression on your face instantly changing, you felt yourself having trouble to breathe.

"Wh-where did you get that..?"

"Oh right from your garbage can, baby." His face looked demented, he looked like a ticking bomb.

"Michael....let me explain.." you whispered as he made his way closer to you.

"Let you explain? Go ahead, explain." Michael threw the box on the table making a glass cup fall and shatter on the floor. Louise heard the noise and looked up before being distracted by the door.

It was Negan.

Louise opened the door for Negan as he came in excitedly picking his son up and wishing him a happy birthday.

"You're a big boy now, three years old." Negan grinned when he suddenly heard Michael yelling. He looked towards the kitchen door then back at Louise with a raised brow.

"I dont know." She whispered with a shrug.

"Michael please!" Negan heard you yell making him quickly give the baby to Louise and charge to the kitchen. When Negan pushed open the door he found Michael grabbing you by your hair before pushing you to the floor. You screamed before looking back and noticing Negan at the door. His eyes filled with rage, you stood up and ran to him blocking him before he could do anything.

"Negan wait- it's not what it looks like."

"Oh yeah, Deena why dont you show Negan here what it looks like huh?"

"Please, Negan just go-"

"Get out of the kitchen, Deena. I've been waiting for this shit." Negan didnt take his eyes off Michael across the room.

"Negan please, listen to me. Look at me."

"Yeah please, look at her before I have to make her shut the hell up."

"Negan!" You squealed when he suddenly pushed you behind him and charged towards Michael.

"Come on asshole, I'll give you a fair fight." Negan threw the chair that was in front of him across the room before he finally reached Michael and the two men began to fight. Both men trying to put each other in head locks as they ran into everything around them, knocking everything to the floor.

"Deena get the hell out of here!"

You stood in shock against the door way watching as Negan knocked Michael off his feet.

"Yeah...wouldnt want an unfortunate accident to happen to a pregnant woman." Michael grunted as Negan held him down before realizing what he said. Negan looked up at you in disbelief before quickly looking back down at Michael.

"Wouldnt want anything happening to that baby." He continued to taunt before Negan collided his fist with Michael's face.

"Say something stupid again, I fucking dare you. Trust me asshole, I got alot more where that came from." He looked directly into Michael's eyes but before he could utter another word, Negan punched him again. Louise had put the baby in his crib and called 911 from hearing all the commotion. She came into the kitchen and gasped at the site of the entire kitchen a mess. The rush of emotions and morning sickness started to take over you. You felt yourself tipping over to the side before bumping into Louise.

"Deena are you okay?" She yelled making Negan look up to find you struggling to stand straight.

"Louise sit her down." Negan instructed without letting go of Michael. Michael scoffed with blood pouring out of his mouth when soon you heard the sound of the cops at the door.

"My brother will handle all of you."

"Youre brother can choke on my dick." Negan squeezed down harder on Michael's neck. The police quickly entered the house and detained Michael who kept yelling at all of you as they dragged him out. Negan rushed to you, grabbing a chair and sitting down right in front of you. You instantly noticed his bloody and bruised knuckles.

"Sir, do you need us to take a look at that?" A paramedic asked Negan.

"No, this is fine-" he shook his hand not worried of any injury.

"I need you to check her." Negan motioned towards you but you quickly shook your head.

"I'm fine, I'm just dehydrated-.

"And pregnant." Negan interrupted.

"You're pregnant?! What!" Louise screamed with excitement making you chuckle. Negan himself couldnt help but smirk a bit.

"Yes, Louise. Wait-wheres Jack?" You looked around as your heart began to race.

"Hes upstairs sleeping, hes fine. Dont worry, Deena." She hugged you as Negan stayed holding your hand. "You're going to need to get a restraining order on that guy if hes bailed out. You cant be here alone with the baby, and pregnant with that mad man knowing where you live."

"Oh she wont be alone, I can promise you that."

Negan meant every word he said, he was never going to risk losing you again.

If you have ideas for a part 3 if youd like one let me know? Not sure where to go after this or if I should continue at all.

[devinescribe]

[Deja Vu]

Arisu Ryohei × Reader

Is it angst? Kind of, but not really. I heard this song, and this was the first thought that came to mind. So... yeah-

Warnings: swearing, needles, blood, does anger need one? Because there's a lot of that here, alcohol, implied sexual content, but it's not explicit? Like... it's implied what happened, but I didn't write it, you know?

It was a harsh breakup, you'd say. Of course you'd say that, you were the one who's heart got broken. Arisu had met Usagi, and you could feel him drifting away. So, when you broke up, you expected it, but it still hurt.

And now, you watched them across the pool while they sat eating strawberry ice cream together. You smiled sadly. You two used to do that. She was wearing his jacket, and it hurt you. You used to wear that exact same one.  You felt someone sit besides you. "Watching them again, huh?" They said. "Yep. Is it weird?" You asked.  You looked besides you seeing him look up with a questioning look. "Yes, but no? What do you want me to say?'' He joked. You shoved his shoulder. "You're so mean Niragi. I'll push you into the pool!" you pouted, ending in a laugh. He chuckled, "Yeah yeah. Let's go, that isn't good for you."

"So when's he gonna tell her?" You asked, laying on his bed. "Tell her what?" Niragi asked. "That we did that too... She thinks it's special, but it's all reused," you responded. You could hear him sigh. "Look, I want to be nice, because I- we're... acquaintances... or whatever you want to call us. So, here's how you're going to get over him."

You laughed, taking another sip of the beer bottle. There were bottles littered around the room, and the blasting music from the party could be heard in his room. The vibrations from the bass could be felt, making you sigh. "Ok, I'm ready!" You shouted eagerly. "I don't even know why the hell you grabbed these in our last supply run," he laughed, holding the small package. You shrugged, "Thought I'd get the courage to do it." You two were very much drunk, and you were about to do mental breakdown things(TM). "Just do it before I regret my decision!" You scolded, with a playful glare. He laughed, "Ok ok, stick out your tongue, I think you've had the ice in there long enough." You did as he told you. He held your tongue still with his fingers, and he grabbed a needle with his other hand, looking at you to make sure. You tried not to laugh, and nodded. He stuck the needle through quickly. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, but somehow no pain. Maybe it was because you numbed it with ice, or the fact that your broken heart hurt more. You waited for him to stick the piercing through, and take his hands away from your mouth. "And we are done!" He shouted with a laugh, wiping off the blood that had gotten on his hands. You stumbled off the bed, sticking out your tongue in the mirror. "Oh I'm fucking hot," you said. You could heat him laugh. Blood dripped from your mouth onto the drawers beneath. He didn't seem to care about the mess. "Am I supposed to bleed that much?" You asked. He shrugged. You turned with a mildly shocked expression, and hit him. You both started laughing. "I'm going to regret this aren't I?" You asked. "It's better than cutting your hair, trust me. Best impulse mental breakdown things I've ever done are tattoos and piercings," he responded. You laughed, rolling your eyes. "What else should we do?"

"Alright, now, just scream into the open," he instructed. "Won't anyone hear?" You asked. You two had somehow managed to stumbled up the stairs, and were now on the roof. A danger hazard, seeing as you two almost didn't make it up the stairs. But in that moment, neither of you cared. "Eh, they're to drunk to care," he said. You nodded, before adding, "But you're doing it with me." "No, I'm just going to let you have all the fun- duh, I'm going to do it," he said. You took a deep breath, getting your anger and pent up rage towards Arisu and Usagi.

"I HATE TO THINK THAT I WAS JUST HIS TYPE!"

"THE GIRL I LIKE IS STUCK ON A DUMBASS BOY WHO DOESN'T DESERVE HER!"

"HE DOES ALL THE THINGS WE USED TO DO WITH HER!"

"I WISH I DIDN'T HAVE CHISHIYA TO BOTHER ME EVERYDAY!"

This was therapeutic to both of you. He didn't want to reveal how he was really feeling, but alcohol does something to people. So, if he said something a bit personal, hopefully you wouldn't remember. Hopefully you were to drunk to remember. And although he knows he'll remember because he's not as drunk as you, he hopes he doesn't remember either. Just so he doesn't hate himself for saying something.

"SHE'S BASICALLY ME AND IT MAKES ME ANGRY BECAUSE ALL THAT SETS US APART IS HER LOOKS! SHE'S EVERYTHING I WISH I LOOKED LIKE AND ARISU FUCKING KNOWS THAT!"

"I HATE THAT NO ONE HATES ME MORE THAN I HATE MYSELF!"

"I HATE THAT HE TOLD ME I DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HER! I WAS SO FUCKING RIGHT TO BE INSECURE WHEN SHE'S EVERYTHING I WISH I WERE!"

"I'M MAD AT THE FACT CHISHIYA SAW ME FALL INTO THE POOL AND NOW USES IT AS LEVERAGE!" (trying to make you laugh? Kinda. Trying to make myself laugh? Definitely.)

"THE SONGS WE USED TO LISTEN TO REMIND ME OF HIM AND IT HURTS TO NOT BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO MY FAVORITE FUCKING SONG!"

"I HATE BEING ALONE!"

"I HATE THAT I'M STILL IN LOVE WITH ARISU!! HE'S MOVED ON BUT I STILL FUCKING HAVEN'T!"

"I'M PRETTY PISSED OFF ABOUT THAT TOO, ACTUALLY!"

"I FUCKING HATE HIM! I FUCKING HATE HER! AND I FUCKING HATE THAT I'M JEALOUS OF WHAT THEY HAVE, BECAUSE IT'S ALL EXACTLY THE SAME AS WHEN ARISU AND I WERE TOGETHER!"

"THE FACT (Y/N) DOESN'T KNOW SHE DESERVES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF!"

"THE FACT NIRAGI SAYS HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY GODDAMN FRIENDS ANNOYS ME BECAUSE I'M RIGHT FUCKING HERE!"

"THE FACT (Y/N) IS OBLIVIOUS TO EVERYONE'S FEELINGS FOR HER IS ANNOYING AS HELL!"

"THE FACT NIRAGI THINKS PLAYING THE TOUGH GUY SCARES ME MAKES ME WORRY ABOUT HIS MENTAL HEALTH!"

"I WISH SOMEONE WOULD HIT ME THE WAY THEY DID IN HIGHSCHOOL SO I COULD FORGET ABOUT MY FEELINGS FOR THIS GIRL!"

"I WISH NIRAGI DIDN'T KEEP ANY SECRETS FROM ME SEEING I'M HIS BEST FRIEND!"

"I WISH (Y/N) WOULD ACKNOWLEDGE OR AT LEAST NOTICE THE FACT THAT I'VE LIKED HER FOR- FUCKING- EVER!"

You panted from screaming so much, and looked at him shocked. "Shit, I didn't meant to-" he started. Maybe it was the alcohol, the sadness you felt, but you pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and all over the place, but in your intoxicated state, it felt like heaven on earth. You could care less about it, because a part of you had always wanted to do this. With Niragi. The feelings for him were always there, you just felt stronger ones for Arisu. And over the past few days, your feelings had grown. Maybe it was the fact that he was the one helping you through the breakup. He was there, and he seemed to care. And moreover, Arisu wasn't a thought in your mind in this moment. The hurt had gone away in that minute. Would you regret this in the morning? Maybe, maybe not.

You woke up due to the throbbing headache you had. You grabbed your head, sitting up. The blankets fell of your body, and you looked down. "Oh fuck... what happened last night?" You questioned, seeing as your clothes were nowhere to be found. You looked besides you, seeing Niragi on the other side of the bed. Your jaw dropped. "I- ma'am, did I-? Oh no. Oh nonononono, what the fuck-" you panicked. Not because you didn't like him, but more because you were drunk, he was your friend, and you were trying to get over a breakup. Which, in drunk (Y/N)'s defense, you did seem pretty over it when you were with Niragi.  You heard a groan, and looked besides you. "Good... morning?" He muttered sleepily. 'Hot-' 'Shut up you horny bitch' You ran your hands through your hair. "I- what did we do?" You asked, even though it was obvious, and the fact that you could remember certain events from last night made you blush. "Well, first you were watching those two being couple-y, then we got drunk, you more than me though, you pierced your tongue, we screamed off the roof, and things escalated from a kiss, and now we're here," he explained. How the hell did he remember so much? Wasn't he just as drunk as you? "And before you ask, I may get drunk, but my memory will not falter. I've tried. Doesn't work," he said. Could he read your mind? You sighed, falling back. He looked away, trying to sort out his own feelings. A part of him was happy, seeing the hickeys and marks over your body. He had wanted to do that forever. Another part felt regret because you two were drunk. It didn't matter what had happened, neither of you were in the right state of mind. He knew whatever had happened was merely the alcohol messing with your brains, and the hurt from your broken heart. It wasn't real feeling. And the last part was sad. Although, it was a small part of him, it was there. Sad because you would most likely want to not talk to him. Or, at least that was the worst case scenario in his mind.

"Do you... do you regret it? Be honest," you said. Your voice was so quiet, he could've missed it.  He looked down at you, seeing you stare blankly up at the ceiling. He scoffed. "Hell no. And I don't care if you do, because I don't. I won't either. I've wanted to do that for so long, but you were with him," Niragi answer bitterly. You looked over, surprised. "You don't regret it?" You asked again. He shook his head. You sat up, crawling on the bed over to his side. "I don't... I don't know how to feel. I remember... its and bits of it... I just don't want you to think I did it to get over Arisu," you explained. "I wouldn't think that. See, the thing about alcohol is it can make people act how they want to act and see what they want to see. And the fact you were screaming my name and not his even as drunk as we were tells me something," he said, a teasing tone so very present. . You could hear the smirk in his voice. You blushed, and leaned your head on his shoulder. Had you really? "Then... what are we?" You asked. "Ah, the age old question. This is cliche, no?" He joked. You hit him softly muttering, "Take this seriously please." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies. Whatever you want," he said. You pulled away with a smirk. "See, you left out 'a committed relationship'. That means you don't want that," you pointed out. He scoffed, fake hurt written on his face. "I just didn't know if that was too much for you. But I'd enjoy it."

You finally felt... complete. For the first time after the breakup, you didn't look to see where they were to avoid them. You didn't feel jealous or sad over the fact that they were talking about what used to be your song. Because now, it wasn't your guy's song. It was theirs. And that was OK now. Because you could see the hurt that his eyes held when Niragi's arm was around your waist. The shock on his face when you talked to them, and his eyes moved over the hickeys and marks littering your skin.

Slowly over the next few weeks, you heard Arisu accidently call Usagi your name, the same way he'd called you her name. It made you laugh. Because now, you were happy, and he was the one in pain. He was the one who would regret everything. Not you.

"(Y/N), can we talk?" Arisu asked. You pouted, but got off of Niragi's lap. He pecked your lips, glaring at Arisu. You could hear Arisu gulp, and you snickered. You two walked away.

"What did you want to talk about?" You asked. "I-... I'm sorry for how I ended things," he apologized. You nodded with a smile. "I accept your apology," you said. You could feel where this conversation was going, and it made you giddy with excitement. "I miss you, you know. I wish I hadn't done that, I was stupid," he said. You smirked. Exactly what you thought he'd say. "Look, I wish you and Usagi the best. I've moved on. I'm finally happy without you, and it's the best feeling in the world. You breaking up with me hurt so much at first, I thought I was going to die. But it ended up being the best gift you ever gave me. You do all the things you used to do with me with her. And I hope it gives you deja vu, so you can remember that I'm better. Sure, she's amazing, but she's basically me. I'm finally feeling confident, and not like I have to compete with another girl who's everything I want to be. Around him, I don't have to act like someone else because I want to make him happy. I act like me, and he actually likes the real me. I always told you to not worry about him because we were just best friends, but now that I'm here... you really were right to worry about him. I was always the better choice, and I'm glad you're realizing it when I don't need you to anymore. I'm with Niragi now, and I'm sure he's waiting, so... goodbye. Good luck with Usagi though, Arisu. Treat her well, and... as I said earlier, I hope you get deja vu when you see her and you're doing the things we used to do."

I still can't write angst for shit, oh my gods-