#like. the probability of this shit all happening to one person at the same time is so low i should buy a lottery ticket

[corseque]

On the scale of 1 (Rise of Skywalker) to 10 (Shadowbringer/Endwalker), where would you place Veilguard?

critical post

I’ve burst into enraged tears like 5 times since I finished it, which is not nearly even close to as many times as Rise of Skywalker, but still 5 times too many. Just the shallowness of the writing, the obviousness, the incredible frustration at the simplicity, the ignoring so much of my favorite character in order to make a stupidly simple plot work, the horrendous time I had trying to ignore Rook’s annoying stupid fuckass pov while just trying to self-insert myself into the end of my favorite fictional character of all time’s story after waiting 10 years. I screamed in frustration that I had to hear the painfully obvious commentary these brand newcomer characters who I did not give a shit about, explaining to me like a toddler how I should feel about revelations I have been writing about for 10 years, especially when what they were saying was stupid as fuck. I cried at the thought of so many cutscenes and so much effort went into stories I found very forgettable and went nowhere, while they were able to only scrounge up like 10 total animated shots reuniting Solas and Lavellan. I mourn that I could not make any decisions in a BioWare game. I mourn Solas’ story so much, and probably will for years. I will never get over the way they talked down to him and never listened to him for even a second, lest they actually have to write a branching path into their game. I hate that the theme was regret but Rook regrets nothing ever so (shrugs) regret doesn’t affect them or mean anything to them. I mourn the loss of the voice and point of view of his people, the ones he was fighting for, the ones who are alive. I mourn that it turns out that he’s just a stupid feral dog who is 100% wrong about everything always and he always has been from the beginning of time. I cried that the game said the answer was that Solas should NOT try to help his people and they never even discussed it as a philosophical question or the ethics of it or anything, or playing as a character so dense they never once even wondered if accidentally freeing the gods killed more people overall than the veil coming down would have. (We avoided this question like the plague, lest we feel less like purely Good Heroes who could talk down to the gods with righteous fury). I mourn that I’m never going to know what would have happened without the Veil. I feel so stupid for thinking that elves or spirits as factions would appear in any capacity with lines and perspectives in this game. I’m so angry at how safe and smoothed over everything in the setting is, and how it felt like the main characters never struggled with anything and have nothing to say. I can’t believe Dragon Age is so shallow and unsatisfying and head-empty. I mourn that the story of Dragon Age is Over to me and I will never play another game.

I’ve also cried a few times at the completely separated and individual imagery and music in the last scene. I’ve cried that my favorite character didn’t die in any world after 10 years of being at death’s door. I’ve cried at the thought of him being a little worm spirit, and that I was right about him the whole time. I cried when activating Felassan’s crystal in the final fight and seeing all the buffs. I cried when I turned the page and realized the default inquisitor was exactly the same as my personal Lavellan, down to hair style, eye color, hair color, vallaslin removed. I cried when I realized Solas thought he should have died as a spirit rather than be born. I cried that the main story Dragon Age has been telling the whole time has been about the reconciliation and freeing of my favorite fictional character. I cried that Solas and Lavellan got married in the end, when I genuinely wasn’t expecting either of them to even be alive. They’re both still alive and in love in every single world. I can’t wrap my head around that.

I have no idea where to put it. It’s a few high highs but some intolerably low fucking lows. It could have been so much worse but the bar is on the fucking floor. I go back and forth between moderate enjoyment to just being so angry. It could have been so much more and I do not know who to bite for it.

I have no idea.

[chronicsyd]

I'm gonna be so serious, y'all are remembering POWDER and Ekko and not JINX and Ekko when screaming about how much you "wanted Timebomb endgame over Caitvi"

shoving JINX in a relationship with her current mental state is not a good writing choice whatsoever, because Ekko literally had to keep rewinding time because she kept trying to kill herself. If Anything, That relationship would be rushed and fanservice because they would have jumped the gun in 2 episodes vs the 2 seasons it took for Caitvi and showing their ups and downs throughout their whole relationship.

The alternate universe works because Powder doesn't become Jinx and the two don't separate, unlike this universe where the two have been at odds for 7 years and almost kill each other back in Ep 7 of S1.

"But Cait never said sorry!" she didn't really have to, because Vi never stopped being in love with the girl that she Knows Cait is at heart, the Cocktail Molotov scene in Act 2 makes that VERY apparent. Cait saying that she was waiting for Vi to recover to address Jinx is the start of it because Act 1 Cait wouldn't have even Considered doing that, because she was so gung-ho about putting a bullet into Jinx that she Demanded Vi move out of the way for her to do so. She holds herself accountable with the mistakes she's made ("We can't erase our mistakes. None of us." that wasn't just a line targeted at Jinx to prove a point, there's deeper meaning behind it), and moving the guards out of the cell proving that she trusts Vi and her judgment on Jinx is that apology, Caitlyn has always been an "acts of service" kinda person over being a "verbal" kinda person; it's all over the place in S1 but Especially here in S2. But even after she takes Vi's shirt off, you could tell by her eyes and body language that she was most likely going to stop herself again to apologize for hitting her because the wound was in the same spot she initially hit, which was part of the lead up for This wound to even happen, but Vi's the one that just pulls her back in instead.

I'm also gonna add on that Vi thinks she made the wrong choice in trusting Jinx and thinking Jinx's changed because Jinx locked her in the cell and ran away again. So why in the Hell would Vi go chasing after her Again to be met with the same result time and time again? Vi isn't responsible for Jinx's mental health and y'all saying that are just weird. And I think it's apparent that Stillwater probably wasn't even in the top 10 things in her head being with Caitlyn, she was just running wild on emotions that she hasn't allowed herself to feel like-- Ever. And even if it Was Vi probably would have said she wasn't comfortable being in a jail cell of all places.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Timebomb.

Like Yes, it's shitty that Ekko doesn't get a happy ending considering he's the most unproblematic in the entire show. But people tend to forget that at the end of the day, Arcane is a TRADGEDY. It's not She-ra, it's not The Owl House, it wasn't going to be wrapped up in a neat little bow where everyone gets to smile and walk into the sunset with their loved ones, especially considering the fact that this season's being used as build ups to other stories, it's relatively clear that this isn't the last we're going to see of a lot of these characters. When they come back into play? well... who's to say?

But also, let's address that a lot of the Caitvi hate is just straight up homophobia at this point because a lot of people can understand Mel's admission to manipulating Jayce as an apology but Cait's actions we're suddenly braindead and need shit completely spelled out. like good lord I'm so tired of this. Y'all would NEVER have survived Catradora let me tell ya...

(My next post is gonna be a long winded rant about Maddie so stay tuned for that...)

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[furiousgoldfish]

I want to talk about a situation that happened when I was a kid, and even though this particular instance did not traumatize me (that I know of), it still deals with traumatic themes, such as physical abuse, attempted murder and severe neglect, so be careful if you're reading on! I'll explain at the end why I'm talking about it, and also psychoanalyze what I think was going on.

When I was about 6-9 years old, I had a strong conviction that my father was going to kill me. He would lock me into the basement and hurt me, and even though the injuries weren't lethal, I could feel the intent, he was out of control, not watching where he was hitting, if he was going to break my bones or not, it was erratic, terrifying. I love how I prefaced this with 'oh this didn't traumatize me' and then I started with that, but it's just the context to the actual story. That first part did probably traumatize me, I remember little of it.

Since I felt that my life was in peril, I decided, logically, that I needed to kill him before he kills me. It was justified I would defend my life with all I had. So I sneaked into the basement room, and searched for something that I could use for a weapon, next time he shuts me in there. I found one, memorized where it was, and then I was ready.

It came soon after, the event of me being alone with him in the basement, him out of control, attacking me, and again, I felt like I was about to be killed. So I grabbed a metal pole hidden next to the fireplace, used my full strength and hit him on the head with it. He fell down, and stopped moving.

I panicked then. He looked dead. I let myself out of the basement (I knew where the key was) and yelled for mother, telling her that I killed him, but I had to, because he was going to kill me. When we got back to where he was lying down, blood was trickling out of his nose. But my mother wasn't panicking like I was, she could probably see him breathing. Then he sat up.

I was even more scared then, because if he wasn't dead, then he knew I just tried to kill him, and would come after me even worse. But he didn't. He didn't even look at me. He wiped his nose, seeming completely calm, rage from before completely gone, talking only to the other family members, who seemed concerned about him.

I was told, that it's good for me that I didn't kill him, because had I done that, I would have been imprisoned for murder for the rest of my life. And other than that, everyone ignored me. Nobody talked to me, or had anything to say about the entire event. Father ignored me as well. I was not punished. Nobody was even mad at me. Nothing else was done.

The 'you'll go to prison forever if you kill him' line worked on me, because I didn't know the law, I didn't know that we don't incarcerate little kids; I was underage. They lied to me. So next time when he got me close to that feeling of 'I'm about to be murdered', I had no way to defend myself. If I killed him I would go to prison. I had no choice but to just let him do whatever and not retalliate in any significant way. Sad and painful.

Thinking back later on this event, it was bewildering to me that I was not punished whatsoever for a murder attempt, despite getting punished for bullshit like 'talking back' or 'having an unpleasant face expression'. This was common; I could be severely punished for leaving a door open, but when I did something big, like hurt a sibling, or threaten someone, or hit my father with a metal pole in the head, there was no consequences whatsoever, nobody would have even talked to me about it. I wondered if this was just because they loved that shit, they loved watching me grow into the same violent, brutal and sadistic person they all were, because then they could go 'you're no different than us', and be right. But, unlike them, once I knew something I did hurt another person, I wouldn't do it again; I did horrible things just because I was a kid, and all adults around me were horrible, and I mimicked them, as kids do. They wouldn't punish me for mimicking their awful behaviour because they approved of that, and they didn't care if my siblings were hurt because they loved hurting children anyway.

This also reinforces the theory that punishment is just an excuse to hurt a child, because these were the legitimate reasons to invoke consequences, but they never did, punishments were dished out when they felt like torturing someone and at that point, any face expression could have been an excuse enough. They didn't care about raising a kid or teaching them right and wrong, it was all just self-serving acts of sadistic pleasure.

But to let a murder attempt fly? I thought about it more today, and realized that maybe, they were shocked I did that. Maybe it was an unpleasant surprise to find out, that under severe stress, I would make an attempt at their lives. Maybe finding out that I just tried to kill one of them, made them not want to immediately try and do more violence to me. Maybe they were concerned that I injured their family member, and were more preoccupied with that. Maybe the logistics of 'this child just attempted to kill someone' made them slightly less secure in their 'beating children is normal and good' culture, maybe it signaled to them that beating children could be, in fact, a little dangerous. Of course this didn't make them not wanna do it, they just needed to persuade the child to take it and not retalliate, thus 'you'll go to prison if you do that', and afterwards they felt comfortable again, sure that justice is on their side. To make things more sinister, beating children was not even illegal in my country during that time, so what they were doing to me wasn't punishable by law. But if I retalliated, I was a criminal, according to them.

Hitting children did become illegal by the time I was 9, but conveniently nobody bothered informing  me, and I would live many more years in belief that violence towards me was normal, necessary and completely legal, hell I believed that even killing me was legal, because everyone was acting like it very much was and were threatening it left and right.

So the reason I'm thinking about this event, is that I just got some great news. My father has colon cancer. He's currently hospitalized about it. I don't know what stage it is, but the mortality rate for it is high. He might die. He might die.

I am overjoyed. I am hopeful, I am thrilled, I could not be more happy about this. What I started with that pole in the basement, might get finished. If he dies I am free. If he dies, my version of what happened is the only one to exist. I would be safe.

I think my reaction is interesting. Because I know other victims of abuse feel some sort of grief, some sort of pain and guilt for their sick or dying abusers, especially when they're parents, because of the parental bond, and trauma bonding, and victims generally having a lot of empathy and humanity towards abusers. Not me! Apparently my father managed to never even develop the basic parent-child bond with me, and I was ready to kill him by the time I was 6. What kind of shitbag human do you have to be so that your small child tries to kill you with a metal pole and when they hear you're dying, it's the best news of their life? That's such inhumane stuff that all my basic child instincts of attaching to my caretakers got overwritten by the necessity of protecting my life. You did it so badly you messed with human DNA there! Biological instincts voted against your parenthood! Self defense murder was invoked against you. You are ruled out as a bad parent and a life threat by my tiny child instincts.

[ktlurksforsomereason]

A few new thoughts + theories about obxanon and Rudy's departure

I keep seeing the same angry, recycled theories on obxtwitter without a lot of critical thought, which like fine, people are mad, I get it. But I've been really trying to take my emotions out of the situation and just consider how this could realistically have happened, and I have a few theories that I want to put out there.

I think #obxanon is Lilah Pate, OR someone very very close to Lilah or the Pates. Why do I think this? For one, #obxanon mentions Lilah far too much. Like I'm sorry, she's just not that important lol. She's a nepotism baby riding on daddy's coattails, and she was not a major player in any of the bts drama until #obxanon mentioned her specifically in their first (now deleted) post. #Obxanon also seems to know a lot about the personal relationships between cast members, far more than a crew member or a producer might know (specifically in the way they describe Rudy and Madison's history/feelings towards each other). This tells me #obxanon is someone who personally spent time with the cast, especially in the s1 era. Finally, in a previous post, I've talked about how #obxanon is very bias against Rudy and for the Pates. I believe SOME of the facts they present (a lot of it is bullshit and opinions), but I think whoever is behind that account has personal anger towards Rudy and Elaine, especially Elaine. #Obxanon mentioned personal conflict between Elaine, the Pates, and LILAH. Why is that even important? Because Lilah thinks she's important, and Lilah is #obxanon.

2. In saying this, I think #obxanon's first post in August leaking JJ's death was an intentional move by the Pates (and maybe Netflix) to sus out how audiences would feel about JJ dying. I just can't believe that Netflix/HR wouldn't be cracking down on every single person who could know this information if they weren't already allowing it to be leaked. Like the first post? Huge leak of insider info. But ok, JJ death theory was gently leaked during Morocco filming so maybe not a drastic break of HR policy. But the second post after s4 part 2 dropped? And continuing to post answers to fan questions up until very recently? There's just no way. Someone would be getting sued. A crew member would be out of the job. The Pates would be putting a stop to it. Unless it was intentional. Unless it was Lilah. Who wanted to

a. gently prepare audiences for JJ's death,

b. get a feel for how angry people would be, so they could edit/prepare to launch their bullshit PR "he was always gonna die" statement,

c. know whether they should renew the show for 1 or 2 more seasons, depending on how much viewership would be lost,

d. maybe even try to convince/guilt-trip Rudy into changing his mind based off of fan response? And if that last ditch effort didn't work,

e. proactively shift the blame onto Rudy to redirect fan outrage, meaning the writers/showrunners could take slightly less heat.

The show getting renewed for a 5th and final season BEFORE part 2 dropped and all hell broke loose? This tells me that they had a solid idea of how bad it might be and opted out of the original 6 season plan. They probably didn't know it would be THIS bad lol, but clearly the writers have their heads up their own asses and don't know how shit they actually are, so they underestimated big time.

And before people start saying this is a conspiracy and couldn't be PR, I really wouldn't underestimate how involved marketing teams can be, especially for a high budget #1 show on Netflix. The Pates mention all the time how they read and monitor fan feedback. Like, if the obx twitter account can interact with fans the way they do? They can definitely be sneaky about leaking info on tumblr through an anonymous yet extremely, SUSPICIOUSLY informed source.

And finally,

3. I think the reasons for Rudy leaving (and I absolutely believe that he left) are far more complicated than simply "Elaine was jealous." I think the way he handled it was messy and shitty and immature, but I've tried to theorize WHY and I've come up with a few intersecting reasons. I want to preface this with I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW. But I like trying to understand people's decisions, it makes them more human to me and allows me to move forward with empathy rather than anger. So here's what I think:

a. He and Madison were previously FWB. I can't pretend to know the timeline or why it ended. But it happened sometime in 2019/2020 and Elaine was unaware of this (or at least how strong the feelings involved were) until later on in her and Rudy's relationship. Elaine not knowing about their fwb arrangement is alluded to in multiple Deuxmoi blinds over the years. Just feels too consistent to not have some truth to it. I can see how finding this out could blindside Elaine, make Rudy feel ashamed and uncomfortable, and contribute to growing jealousy and tension throughout years that finally hit a breaking point. I'm not saying jealousy is acceptable, especially because portraying a believable Jiara romance was Rudy and Madison's JOB. Obviously the healthiest decision is either break up or make peace with it. But I think this could at least explain why Jiara upset Elaine so much. She felt lied to. Also if Rudy actually cheated on Teo, that would increase Elaine's insecurity even more (once a cheater always a cheater). AND put pressure on Rudy to prove that he won't cheat on Elaine, making him all compliant and weird n shit towards Madison. The whole thing is just messy.

b. Rudy did not want to do Jiara in the first place. He didn't even sign up for it when he joined the show. Their "chemistry" in s1 was a literal representation of Rudy and Madison's chemistry in real life, likely due to their fwb arrangement. It wasn't JJ and Kiara liking each other. It wasn't planned. (I hate how Kiara asking John B "Did you tell JJ" is literally always used as proof against this, but I always saw that as Kiara not wanting to admit she actually did like John B and wanted to keep shit on the down low until they figured it out. That's totally how it's written. But the obx writers suck and don't elaborate on that ever again, so it gets misinterpreted). Regardless, fans saw their obvious chemistry and SCREAMED for JJ and Kiara to get together. They also screamed for Rudy and Madison to get together, which was probably fun until it was awkward. But Rudy literally NEVER actually liked it as a plotline. In interviews for S1 and S2, he talks about how JJ is not ready for a relationship, maaaaybe endgame could be them hinting at getting together but he just didn't think it made sense with the storyline. And Cleo was getting written in as JJ's actual love interest. And Kiara had already kissed John B AND Pope. It was not the writer's original plan, and Rudy has said that he thinks the show should not be swayed by fan desires. Except the writers are spineless and lack creativity, so instead they chose to listen to the fans and pivot their entire storyline to make Jiara happen. Which Rudy was contractually obligated to then do. Unwillingly. For 4 seasons.

c. Outside of Jiara, Rudy hated the writing on obx. And who can blame him? Everyone hated the writing on obx. The plotline has been getting more and more unrealistic and ridiculous since S1. If there was no bts drama and JJ lived and the show was renewed for 3 more seasons, season 4 would STILL be hot smelly garbage. Rudy has been getting increasingly more and more vocal in interviews about how he hates bad writing, he respects good writing, he wants to participate in art that moves people, means something, makes a difference. He basically calls out the obx writers in that Larry Moss interview for being trash. It is absolutely implied. The fan service of Jiara and the deterioration of the plot and the absolute destruction of his character JJ who he loved dearly and put so much effort into? God, that would piss me off too. Total opposition to his values. We all heard Rudy talk about JJ's storyline in S1 interviews as a nod to trauma survivors and how respectfully he tried to portray that. Only to have the writers not give 2 shits about any of that. I can totally see why he stopped giving a shit too. By s3 interviews, he literally repeats "my job is to do what the writers tell me" over and over. Dude was done long before asking to leave s4.

4. The final tipping point? The hate that Elaine gets. I'm not defending the girl. I think the whole conflict/tension/jealousy thing is wild. Hard to know what's actually true, but I think it's fair to say she doesn't make the healthiest choices (her launching her bikini line while Rudy is getting dragged by the media and fans?....wow.) However, the absolute visceral HATE Elaine has been getting for literal years, unwavering, unfiltered, unending? No one deserves that. Especially not for the petty shit she supposedly did (the girl posted some ignorant shit as a 17 year old on facebook in 2013. Like come on, she's not Kelly Osbourne saying Latinos only clean toilets on literal live TV). You can't make me believe that hate like that for 4 years straight on every possible social media platform wouldn't impact your mental health. You can't tell me it wouldn't make Rudy hate the fans, and hate the show, and hate social media. He would feel guilty, like it was his fault. He would want to protect her. They would both be so powerless to stop it from happening. Like, it literally killed her photography career before it could begin because her social media platforms were just bombarded with hate. And not just hate, but embarrassing, cancel culture accusations. If that was my partner getting treated like that because of my job? I think I'd leave too.

All of this combined = creates a total shitshow that Rudy probably couldn't wait to get away from. He's talented. He's passionate about acting. He likely wants to do other projects while he's still young and fit and eager. OBX contracts stopped the actors from doing any other work that conflicted with obx scheduling (filming and press). That reeeeally limits their other opportunities.

So I really can't blame the guy for leaving. I just think the way he did it was shitty. If he had just told them he wanted to leave before S4 was written and already filming, I think things could have been a lot more amicable. But I guess money complicates everything. Dude probably made a good mil a year with obx, that's hard to leave.

Soooo yea. Just my theories and thoughts. I could be totally off, a lot of it is hypothetical. But I haven't seen a lot of these theories fleshed out as people talk about everything, so thought I would add my 2 cents.

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part six

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 2.8k (2821)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part seven!. really a little suggestive at the end but it's literally nothing, but I thought it was right to say it

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

The bags fall to the floor almost immediately, dropped from your hands that can no longer hold them. Michael's eyes are fixed on you, and you struggle, even for a few seconds, to hold his gaze. You reflect in his cerulean eyes a subspecies of betrayal, or even hatred; in all the years that you have known him, he has never looked at you like this, and it scares you. You shake more than you should, you even feel difficulty breathing. If hell wants to take you, it's succeeding. You immediately regret even opening that drawer

The letter, clean and tidy, shines on the table: the white, shiny paper, now seems to have your finger prints on it, prints that should only have been Kaiser's when he wrote it. The air is heavy, and heavy is your sense of oppression now

"Micheal I can-" you say almost in a whisper, but you remain silent when you see him take the letter in his hand "Sit down" he says while his eyes now scan the writings he himself has written. You swallow nervously, and quickly do as he says, sitting parallel to him, in the chair in front of his

You watch him as he rereads the letter once, twice, five, ten times, always taking the same amount of time. He never dares to look up at you, not even when he takes a break between readings. After minutes that seem endless, the only sound that escapes his lips is a heavy sigh, perhaps held in for a long time; one hand places the letter back on the table, the other reaches the bridge of his nose, which he massages with his fingers. He's visibly shaken, and you don't blame him, you're still shaking after all these minutes too

"So..." he says after a moment, taking his time to perhaps choose the right words "You read everything" he says looking up a little

You feel the skin on your body almost not sticking to your bones anymore, a sensation that you haven't felt even in one of your worst arguments with Gabriel. Probably if it had happened to you some time ago you wouldn't have understood the reason for this feeling, but now after all you know how to explain it: you love Michael, you're worried that he doesn't want to see you anymore after this. You care about him, about his opinion, about everything he does, unlike Gabriel

If until now, or at least until a few months ago, Gabriel was the person you worried about most in the world, now that role is played by another person. And this person is Micheal Kaiser

You want to talk, make up an excuse, but you know it wouldn't make sense; right now everything is too obvious, there are no openings to escape to and honestly you don't even want to lie to Micheal. The words die in your mouth, making you stay silent and without a truth to say. You stay silent because you don't know how to explain everything, and Micheal seems to notice your difficulty, because it seems more attentive

"I really don't know what to say to you either, Y/n. I wouldn't have even in the worst case scenario imagined something like this" he says with a calmness that hides so much anger, which you can see in the way he holds back some words "I just wonder why you would want to read something like this, especially considering it was hidden. Haven't you asked yourself why it was hidden?" he asks, but it's a question you know you can't answer because he's right "I'm just wondering... what the fuck is wrong with you? I really need to know, because now you know everything about me, that I've loved you for too long, that I dreamed that you were my wife, but what do I know about you?" he asks smiling almost hysterically, probably because of anxiety

The weight of the situation seems to crush you as if you were a simple feather: it kills you, it leaves you suffering and with each passing second it seems to strangle you more and more. Kaiser looks at you, waiting for answers that you have but that you don't really know how to explain to him. You can't explain to him how much you, only after years of him being in love with you, understood that you loved him too. You can't explain to him how hard it is for you to see the hatred he feels for you now, which he absolutely has the right to feel, but which still hurts

You can't explain to him how much you now just want to tell him that you would like to resolve the situation by kissing him and starting over something that probably just needs communication between the two of you

"You had the courage to read all that but not answer me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, and you look down, keeping your hands in fists in your lap "You think you can solve everything with your silence? No, fuck, you can't, because this is literally a violation of my privacy. Do you realize how much I feel like shit right now knowing that you know things that I've kept from you for years just so our relationship wouldn't go to hell?" he says, and his tone of voice rises a little "Do you really have the courage to say nothing after finding out I love you?" he says, but the last sentence sounds more like a whisper desperate than an exclamation of complete meaning

"Micheal, please" you say with a shaky voice, trying to get a little bit of his pity, but you hear him laughing in an almost amused way "Please? You beg me? And what am I supposed to do, beg you to forget everything I've written over the years on those pieces of paper? Are you seriously asking me to give you a break when you literally did everything yourself, sticking your nose into things that didn't concern you?" he says, but at the last sentence you feel something inside you stir "They didn't concern me? Are you kidding?" you ask looking up, and you notice surprise in his eyes when he sees you answer him "That's not what matters, you literally discovered things that you shouldn't have known even when you were dead" he says, and for the umpteenth time it seems unfair to you "You should have told me" you say with a sudden conviction, but one that you don't really feel. You're just trying to find a way to calm him down, but with strange methods

In your eyes, Micheal seems to be on the verge of breaking. Everything he has kept inside for years is threatening to come out and he himself is realizing it. Everything he kept in his Pandora's box is now coming out like a menacing monster

"What was I supposed to tell you? That every night since you've been with that man, I hoped he'd die so I could finally tell you the truth? That I wanted to see you smile so badly that I gave 101% in matchs knowing you were watching me? That I dreamed for years of the feeling of being able to call you my girlfriend without being afraid? That I spent days locked in the house when you said you were leaving for Italy and leaving me alone? That everything I did was to make you happy and make you see that it wasn't just normal affection?

That I kissed other girls hoping it was your lips and not theirs? That I dreamed a million times of a future where you were my wife? That I always had a bottle of your perfume that I carried with me when I was out of town? That there's a picture of you and me as teenagers in my wallet?

That I lost weight when I found out Gabriel was taking you away from me? That Ness himself always thought me that you didn't feel the same way about me? That every time I saw you walk by I dreamed of you running to hug me?

That I dreamed of another universe where I could really be happy with you, where we were together, we could kiss and hug each other, we were husband and wife, we even had children, where everything was really perfect at least in my eyes?

That you were the only one I cried for? That you are the only person who knew what I went through with that asshole of a father of mine? That the feeling of even hearing your name made me happy? That seeing you after months of separation was like a liberation? That loving you for me was the only great joy my life has given me? That for me you are always be everything?

That ever since I found out that you and Gabriel fought often I was happy? That every time you told me about your arguments I hoped you would break up? That I hoped that the last fight was really the last? That running to you in Italy after your breakup was the moment I looked forward to more than when I have to score a goal? That feeling your arms around my neck while you hugged me after so long made me feel alive? That the sensation of finally having your lips on mine was like entering heaven? That letting you love me that night was like I had never really experienced anything, because there was no comparison in having sex with you?

How could I tell you all this, Y/n, knowing that it wasn't reciprocated? That by doing so I would be pushing away the only person whose thoughts about me I truly care about?"

The tremor you were feeling until now seems to disappear, replaced now by a feeling of liberation that perhaps Kaiser is feeling now too. The weight that was crushing you to death lifts as all his thoughts come to the surface, thoughts so intimate that not even letters could have

Kaiser has unconsciously risen from his chair, his arms stretched out against the table. He is breathing heavily, and it seems only now that he realizes what he has actually said, that the monster he kept in his Pandora's box has come out and destroyed the entire village. It seems as if what he has wanted to say for years has come out now, but he had not kept in mind the consequences of his words. For the first time, he seems like the least alien stranger you've ever met: you didn't know his feelings, but now his words have weight of no small importance

The real Micheal Kaiser, after years, is finally before your eyes, alive as only a human can be, dressed with a level of intimacy that probably few people can reach. Micheal Kaiser has finally shown who he is to the person he has always loved with an almost impossible level

"Micheal, I-!" you say, getting up from your chair too, but something inside you seems to block you from moving. It's time, now or never. You don't even know for sure if he still feels everything he just said, if he really is still in love with you that much, but now it's your turn to lay yourself bare. You love him, you know you do it for years, you know that everything you had with Gabriel was just something you were looking for from Micheal

"Micheal, listen to me, I-" you say trying to find the words, but everything inside you dies the moment he lowers his gaze "Forget everything"

And suddenly, all the weight that was gone comes back stronger than before, not even giving you time to realize. The belief you had until a few seconds ago suddenly seems to be a nonsense that you were about to reveal. Michael breathes loudly, with a calmness that doesn't belong to the situation. You watch him as he stands up straight, no longer with his arms stretched out against the table. It seems as if he has just realized the consequences of his words and that everything he said came out only because it had to come out, not because it had to reach your heart; freeing oneself, not acting for something. And it's exactly that "Forget everything" that comes out of his lips that makes you the angry one in this situation this time. It annoys you that now he is you, the person who would like to escape, that just at the moment when you were about to be the one naked in front of his eyes, he decided to close them

A last sigh escapes his lips before he silently makes his way out of the room, towards the door behind you. He is running away, running away from something that this time he has caused: there is a strange connection in your own situation, as if you were both two identical, yet different, sides of the same coin. In a lightning-fast move you place yourself between him and the door, your arms open and resting against the adjacent walls. Your heart is beating too fast, you don't even know what you're really doing, but it seems right in a corner of your soul. Kaiser looks up, staring at you with a hint of annoyance that actually covers something else

In a few days you went from best friends, to lovers unaware of each other, to strangers, to rival for annoyance and now? What are you two now?

Neither of you dares to utter a word, but your eyes seem to communicate with a language that your minds struggle to understand. It is something fine, that can easily break, but that is saying everything that you have hidden from yourself for years. It's a language that only two people who have done everything to hide their feelings so as not to hurt each other can understand with inhuman ease

“Say it” you say confidently, knowing that what you think is finally coming “Say it, because I know you think it. And I think it, too, Michael.”

You would have, or rather, you should have been honest with each other so many years ago. His tense nerves finally seem to melt away when he hears your words, now light as a feather

"I love you" he says, in a way that seems to carry with it many sleepless nights, lost because of thoughts. Finally, both you and him, have taken off the last crumb of weight that you were carrying; you smile almost unconsciously, bringing your hands between his jaw and his cheeks "I love you too, Michael"

It is in that moment that the knot you were holding tight in your stomach goes away, it is in the same moment that everything seems to take on a new shade. It is in that precise moment, where Kaiser throws himself violently on your lips, that shivers of love run through your whole body

The sensation he longed for is finally here, as he kisses you with an almost aggressive tenderness. You kiss each other back, feeling for the first time the real butterflies everyone talks about. It's a needy kiss, that perhaps he waited too long and that is taking everything now; but it's beautiful, loved, and you wonder how you and him could have waited so long if you knew the outcome was something like this, so exciting and inexplicable

His hands move to your hips, squeezing them lightly with a firm grip, as if he wants to make sure you're there. The kiss doesn't seem to end, as you hold each other, your body smeared against his and vice versa. There's something that maybe you're both still holding back but that's slowly coming out of you. Everything becomes more needy, just like that night in the hotel: the kiss becomes more aggressive, his hands tighter, your hands sweatier as you slide them along his neck, tracing the outline of his tattoo. You feel him tremble, as he moves his lips to your neck, letting soft sighs escape your lips, while suddenly everything seems to take a turn that you've both already experienced a few weeks ago

You don't know how, a few minutes later, you found yourself in his room, lying on his mattress with him on top of you, still aggressive on your neck. But you liked him so much that your legs were shaking for the emotion

You loved Michael Kaiser. Michael Kaiser loved you. You loved each other, and it took you years to realize what you could have experienced already at 19 years old. But now, at this moment, in his room, you loved each other

And that's what mattered to you

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

READ IS IMPORTANT!!: the story seems finished but NO, let's say we are only halfway through what I have in mind. thank you so much for all the support I'm receiving, I think I don't deserve it actually 🥹 love y'all 💗🌷

[thewistlingbadger]

To me it's like, why even introduce new characters? There's so much shit going on in S2 we LITERALLY don't have the time for any of this. It's no surprise why we couldn't get invested in new characters there was already so much happening, I can only focus on so much at a time. And the cast from season 1 is large. They should have spent more time fleshing them all out instead of giving side characters WHO ALL DIED in the season. Sevika deserved the exploration, as did Sky and Ekko. They're all a part of S2 but they don't really feel like it. Season two was the opportunity to bring side characters into the spotlight and they said "naw. Stay backstage." It's silly that Jayce, Mel, Heimerdinger, and ekko are basically MIA for almost the entirety of the series. Like these were central characters last time around why are they barely here??

No. I just can't with the characters because I don't think I can genuinely say I enjoyed and understood the development of any of the characters fully. Like yeah characters developed but do I know why? No not really.

Mel gets introduced as a Mage but the black rose is never explained and it was just very confusing to me.

Jayce has the best development in the season imo most of what he did and went through made sense. My only thing is that I still don't understand why he shot at Viktor.

Viktor completely changes in S2 and we're never told why. He's completely cold and unfeeling and suddenly has an ideology that wasn't really hinted at in s1. We assume it's bc of the hexcore but we shouldn't have to assume we just know from what the show shows us

Vi literally doesn't change at all. She never has to reflect on her sister or Caitlyn or herself or the current circumstances. Nothing. She's the exact same imo. Isn't it weird how anti jinx she was in act 1? She was Literally about to kill Jinx had Isha not stepped in, even though that confrontation was like. In the same week Vi said they would always be sisters. And the only reason Vi starts liking Jinx again is because she's acting more like "powder". She never actually has to accept the fact her sister is changed bc her sister low-key reverts into who she used to be

Ekko didn't get shit this season let's be serious. No exploration of his character or his views.

Jinx's change comes from left field and this is because of how the show treats her relationship with silco and Isha. Isha basically pacifies Jinx and the show can't decide what it wants to do with Jinx's relationship with silco. Why does she decide to come back and save the day? Idk they didn't show us the scene where ekko and her reconciled.

Caitlyn. What a shit show. What thoughts are there to even express that haven't already been expressed? She becomes a fascist and that's not explored. She decides fascism bad but we don't see how or why she comes to that conclusion. She's treated like a hero when she acts like a villain. She never has to take accountability for her actions.

Poor Sevika she got nothing.

Singed has the best development out of everyone here ngl and I don't know how to feel about that lol sksks

Despite being the season's main antagonist, we sure don't learn anything additional to Ambessa. Probably bc they put her backstory in a music video and not the show.

I don't feel any sympathy for anyone that cried for Isha. Be so serious, the moment I saw Isha's music video before act one came out, it was obvious she was gonna die. Isha wasn't a character, she was a plot device used to further Jinx's narrative and I personally didn't like the way she changed her. Not to mention her sacrifice makes no sense bc she's shooting at Vander and jinx wasn't in any trouble. AND her death isn't mentioned in act 3. It's like she never existed.

Maddie is just confusing bc I heard the creators say she was manipulated by Ambessa but the show didn't show that. They didn't show anything of Maddie, she was just a side character. Was her betrayal surprising? Absolutely not.

the way Arcane wasted character in season 2 is actually insane. They gave us good character design but no good character. Especially the new ones. Is there honestly ONE, one you genuinely cried over?

I cried over Mylo and Claggor. I cried over Vander in season 1. I cried over Powder screaming and sobbing after Vi in act 1 of season 1. I felt deep emotional pain over all of this because they gave me character and an understanding of the world we are in. And they did all of that in 3, THREE, episodes.

What did they do with Isha? Well I sure didn't cry when she died. Her character, while interesting just wasn't fleshed out at all. What I felt when they killed her was how idiotic the writers were for that because okay? like huh. They had 5 episodes with Isha and somehow managed to not make me care enough to cry. Not because Isha's potential wasn't there but because killing her was stupid and pointless, just to further another characters pain which could happen way more naturally without introducing a character to die.

What did they do with Loris? They tried to make him Vander (which okay weird why do that? especially if you want to bring Vander back anyway like uhm? what was the sense of introducing Loris as a Vander stand in and then bringing Vander back??). But he WASN'T Vander because they never showed him to be. They just told me he was. Which doesn't work. okay, he died. Did not care. The only thing I felt was rage again because it was so unnecessary and dumb, they could have made a lot with this character.

Maddie. Well Maddie is a whole other thing, isn't she? She was introduced in a way that already raised a lot of eyebrows. But in a "she is a cop" way and not she is on Ambessas side way. There is so much questions coming up with that. Had she been on Ambessa's side from the very start? Even when we first saw her on screen? Did she come with Ambessa? But how was she an enforcer then? Did she always live in Piltover but how did she then turn towards Ambessa? When she made that fist sign, was the plot between Ambessa and her already going, or did it happen after that? Why were we not shown any of this? this is NECESSARY to understand her character and why the end happened. We should have been able to feel betrayed as well but like? I did not feel betrayed I was just like "okay well, that happened off screen I guess."

Steb had not one talking line, like why was he here, was I meant to feel bad when he ran into The Grey, I can't even tell, help.

And then the side characters of Zaun, especially the Jinxers. The one woman who then died with Vi's hand in hers while wearing the uniforms of Piltover. Did not feel sad. Felt absolute huge amount of unfiltered rage. Her character should have MEANT something. I feel they tried to make her mean something but they failed there too.

Lest?? LIKE LEST COULD HAVE ALSO BEEN USED IN SUCH AN INTERESTING WAY. She just never came back. Okay. Great, at least she didn't die but like? Was I meant to get invested? Was I meant to care? Usually I should be able to tell if I should care about a character in a show or not but in Arcane s2 they tried to make me care and failed or if I cared well then they failed, too

anyways just the side characters especially were a huge disappointment this time around.

[covington-shenanigans]

christ alive I love my parents and I'm glad I got to see them but they are just. so fucking exhausting

[arolesbianism]

Welcome to the “they’re just like me fr (derogatory)” club featuring no color because I would rather die than draw Sif with color

[thenexusofsouls]

"Me? No," Wade said, shaking his head. "The opposite, actually. I'm bored to death." He realized how that probably sounded to her a moment later. "Not- I didn't mean bored sitting here talkin' to you. I meant with life in general lately. Haven't found any good jobs yet in this city, got nothin' but time on my hands, that sorta thing," he sought to clarify.

He understood what she was getting at with the waffles, and she was right, really. But if his enjoyment was the only reason for something, then lately he just wasn't interested. He really didn't deserve to indulge at present, and he wasn't sure when he was going to finally say he did deserve it.

Everything that had happened to his friends and potential future family wasn't exactly something somebody got over in a shot amount of time. Until he did, he was going to keep right on thinking he didn't deserve to be happy. I got everybody killed. If I'm not gonna join 'em like I should've, the least I can do is live a completely miserable life. Not the greatest logic, but emotionally it made sense to him. "Yeah, I guess," he said unconvincingly, choosing to leave it at that rather that harp on things. This poor woman was probably tired of hearing his bellyaching bullshit.

He thought her reaction to his supposed medical condition not being given proper thought had been a bit... extreme? Had he touched a nerve somewhere? Surely her anger wasn't just out of concern for him, they'd only just met a little while ago. Still, the anger seemed... personal, somehow. Maybe she's been in jail before. If she had, that wasn't any of his business. If she wasn't on his list, then he didn't care what she did or how many years she'd spent in the cage.

He was still thinking about what he'd seen outside with the unfortunate, umbrella-challenged fellow. Again, he was curious and wanted to know what she'd done, what that blue stuff was, how she'd fixed the umbrella so well... but it seemed wrong to ask. She seemed like a very private person and Wade wasn't one to pry into other people's affairs unless he was being paid to do it.

Cutting the stack of napkins that arrived in half and dividing them between her and himself, Wade wasted no time in drying his rather shiny chromedomus before any more rainwater could drip down his nose or from his chin. "I gotta install gutters on this thing. Seriously, everything just rolls right off," he complained, gesturing towards his head.

When she said he'd done the same thing, meaning fixing the umbrella, Wade chuckled. "Nah, I didn't do shit, that was all you," he insisted. "All I did was get myself wet and hold the door on the way back. Hardly medal-worthy conduct."

The soldier bunched herself up under the desk, palms pressed to her ears with enough pressure that she could hear the squeak of her joints. She was trying to block out the noise. The angry shouts as she disobeyed direct orders. When had she entered the office? One minute she'd been searching the aisles...

well,

Shallow breaths

A tap on her shoulder, sending her jolting alongside her racing heart, wide eyes searching for the source- an elderly woman with a light laugh, and an apology for startling her. She was only reaching for the milk

Bright, fluorescent lights

Constant chatter and clanging and beeping that was not, in fact, a heart rate monitor, and was instead the tills as the cashiers scanned various items

Too many options

kind of.

At some point she'd passed the bakery, and a small child in a cart had wheeled by, holding a...

And then she'd found herself in the office. The door was locked from the inside. The desk had the indent of fingers on the edge of it's surface, as though imprinted in wet cement. One of it's legs wiggled like a snake. Both still gleaned with the sweat of her hands.

The manager kept slamming on the door, shouting and raving about calling the police, and company files and trespassing. And yet she was frozen in place. - For Wade, sadiebrin

@sadiebrin

"Donuts or muffins?" Wade muttered to himself as he looked around the bakery section. His head tilted to one side, then the other. "Eh, they each have their good points..."

It was supposed to rain today. Not just rain, thunderstorm. So far, though, the sky had gone dark for a couple hours and it had gotten rather windy, but so far... no rain or thunder. Perfect weather for Wade to do a little shopping during normal human hours without fear of getting too impaired by the sun. He'd felt a mild tingling on his skin when he stepped outside, but... not too bad. And really, he just had to go from his apartment building to his SUV, and then from there into the store. He could do that standing on his head, so... time to shop.

Being a vampire sucked, pun intended. Needing blood all the time was not only unappealing to Wade, but it was massively inconvenient with his schedule and lifestyle. And he refused to give up the foods he loved, even if they did nothing for him nowadays. At least he could eat whatever he wanted without fear of getting fat or developing heart disease, since whatever made him a vampire seemed to regulate his body to keep it in tip-top shape without him having to do much of anything.

His deliberations on exactly what kind of indulgent human food to buy were interrupted by a very distressed woman staggering from near where he was toward the back of the store. Confections could wait. Wade followed her, sensing that something was very wrong. When she went inside an office and slammed the door, Wade stopped and watched as the manager began pounding on the door like a child throwing a tantrum. "Really?" Wade mumbled to himself.

Making his way to the door, Wade laid his hand on the manager's shoulder. "Take a breath, okay? I think she's havin' some kinda problem." The manager was taking too many breaths, as it were, and spouting more boisterous nonsense about how she wasn't allowed in there, and if she didn't come out right this instant he was going to called the cops!

With an irritated smirk, Wade reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Dude, relax, I am the cops," he said, flashing his badge just fast enough for the manager to see something that looked official but not long enough for him to actually read that it only said government licensed bounty hunter on it. It worked, and the manager took a step back from the door. Only one. Wade looked at him like, you gotta be kiddin' me with this bullshit. "Yeah, you wanna gimme some time here, man? I'll handle it, don't worry." With that, the manager huffed and left to deal with an irate woman who couldn't find the type of cheese she wanted and was making it everyone else's problem.

"Hey... miss?" he called through the door. "You okay in there? Need some help?" He was trying to get through to the woman but also sound as non-threatening as he could manage.

[spotsupstuff]

here's a neat vid, go watch it if you haven't yet

there's Some things that i don't completely agree with personally, like attributing the Third sin to Materialism rather than Connection (i'd argue that the Ancients had no big issue with being materialistic, considering their golden attires and such- and that going with Connection overall better addresses both the core of Materialism and relationships overall) and then attributing the word Dynasty specifically to asian cultures but that's more history/word definition beef more than anything djgklsjlcgjkd

oh how i'd love to have a debate with this guy about Ancients...

[mrderbird]

sorry i'm not gonna directly vent on the berk blog but. just know that at this point my life has become so shit it loops back around to being funny and if i did go into detail it would sound like i'm completely making it up lmfao. save me griffith

[totheidiot]

i hate that the solar eclipse just now serves as a reminder that nobody loves me.

[bitchfitch]

somebody shoot me with a gun until I am dead before I write the first chapter of that pirate thing for like. Genuinely the eighth or ninth time.

[thethingything]

I really don't like our brain's ability to jump from "I'm going to organise all this stuff and catch up with a bunch of tasks" to "it's time to get stuck in an increasingly distressing thought spiral for several hours, accidentally trigger yourself, then feel like shit because you haven't done anything but also haven't managed to rest".

like please can we maybe have like a nice middleground where we do a few things and then rest for a while and don't experience the full range of human emotions over the course of about 3 hours

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

good lord my brain is running laps and i just wanna knock it out and get some goddamn sleep