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engaged19times · 4 years ago

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RHONJ Recrap - season 11, ep 1 - C U Next Tuesday!

Greetings fellow prostitution whores and welcome to my new weekly recrap of American institution The Real Housewives of New Jersey! Before I jump in I’ll introduce myself by saying that I’m a housewives super fan (I even watched DC, an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst sister-in-law), an underemployed comedy writer (I can’t define “napalm” either, Lauren Manzo), and nothing makes me happier than to watch 6 bedazzled hypocrites in Cheesecake Factory mansions argue etiquette and loyalty between physical altercations in the world renowned cultural hub of Paterson, New Jersey. I know essay recaps are a bit of a relic but I am fond of ye olde written word so please enjoy this blast from the past, you scumbags!

We open without fanfare mid-scene to red-eyed Jackie and dead-eyed Teresa sitting in Margaret’s partially finished, wallpaper smothered home. We get the Bad Girls Club black-and-white flashes but unlike in Beverly Hills we’re not flashing to “three months earlier” but instead to “three days earlier.” It might take women of less gumption precious time to build to a production-halting confrontation but it only takes these agents of chaos half a week to get the meatball rolling.

Let’s back up a little to the ominous “three days prior” and catch up with our hot girls. It’s Jackie’s giant hot husband’s 46th birthday so she’s throwing him a party under a tent in the parking lot of a Greek restaurant. We learn that Teresa and Joe’s father has sadly passed in the offseason and Dolores Thee Stallion and Margaret have both had full cosmetic overhauls - Dolores with a second butt enhancement that left her with a giant hip scar rivaled only by Sally from Nightmare before Christmas and Margaret with a boob lift and apparent nipple sharpening (is that a procedure?) that she advertises in a blush silk top with no bra. Never one to be outdone at a parking lot birthday party, Joe Gorga arrives with his storyline - I mean wife, Melissa - also smuggling raisins under a skin tight children’s white T-shirt. Nipples are trending, ladies!

The Nightmare Before Christmas.

A beautiful boob lift.

Tarzan’s headlights.

Margaret’s hot employee Lexi and Teresa’s hot realtor Michelle (both of whom are official friends-of this year), as well as iconic social wrecking ball and Aydin Center for Plastic Surgery mascot Jennifer all saunter in for car park cocktails at this 3D nipple fashion show and as the night devolves we see the cast getting truly shit-housed on shots when out of nowhere storyline sniper Teresa drops the bomb that she heard sexy birthday Bigfoot Evan is cheating on Jackie... more specifically, that he “does stuff” at the gym but mysteriously can’t remember any details or where she heard this head-scratching accusation that draws as many gasps as it does “huhs?” Honest straight people question: do y’all hook up at gyms? And if so, where? Are there co-ed saunas now? Also can one of you explain the allure of Mike and Molly to me? Moving on. Most shocking was that the Perez Hilton of North Jersey doesn’t just drop this wild accusation once, she gleefully skips through this asphalt soiree like a goddamn town crier, addressing everyone she passes like Belle through the town square.

The next day the hard partying crew of Jersey Shore: All Grown Up recovers from their throbbing hangovers and we see cool mom Melissa traipsing through her particle board mausoleum in see-through sweatpants with a visible thong in front of her kids’ friends (you girls keep me young!), Marge Sr. driving a blue Mini Cooper with eyelashes on the headlights (which I assume are like the spinning rims of the Jersey Grandma community), and a flashback of Margaret’s Joe puking next to a tree (relatable, my dude).

Marge Sr.: Fully Loaded.

You girls keep me young!

Over at Jennifer’s palatial child farm we learn that her parents fight so much these days that she moved her father (Carl from Up!) to her multi-generational compound which has only angered her mother more.

Jennifer’s sweet dad.

We then find out Dolores’s dry boyfriend David with whom she shares the burning passion of a melting ice sculpture now lives with her bulging slab of a son Frankie Jr. in the house he and Delores built together but Dolores curiously still lives with her also bulging but slightly slimey ex Frank Sr. in her original house, a near Braunwyn-level web of over-explained but still vague relationship fuckery of which none of them seem on the same page. Dolores hid her surgery from David until the day before, David still works constantly so she hangs out with her ex all the time, and I can’t help but think that we aren’t getting the full story on whatever the fuck is happening under these two roofs. Are they brother-husbands? Is Frank Sr. piping both of them? Can Frankie Jr. DM me his nudes please? The only one being straight-forward in these duel households of confusion is Dolores’s dog who is simply named Dog and I honestly appreciate his refreshing transparency.

Dog Catania, king of transparency.

Finally, Jackie calls Teresa to organize an infamous Jersey sit-down because she somehow got wind of the out-of-thin-air accusations that Teresa all but presented with a bull horn and a PowerPoint at Evan’s parking lot social. They decide to meet at Margaret’s partially constructed house/ wallpaper showroom because it’s neutral territory to hash things out in a relaxing landscape of ladders and contrasting patterns and the tension is so thick you could cut it with one of Margaret’s newly renovated nipples.

Jackie pleads with Tre to clear her husband’s good name and Tre enters a baffling Kelly-Anne Conway bullshit loop which includes such hits as “woman to woman, if I heard this you wouldn’t want me to tell you?” (a reasonable point which is actually working against Teresa because it’s the opposite of what she did), then explaining to Margaret the immediately contradictory “I didn’t tell her and it’s not like I told Evan, I told my friends” (which is an explanation of what she obviously did wrong but said in the tone of a defense), the wacky last ditch nonsense deflection “Alright let me tell you the reason why I did it. This year, now, you know I’m single now. I’ve been approached by a lot of married men that think that it’s OK to have affairs,” and finally just saying fuck it and rewriting history “I did not spread a rumor, I heard a rumor.”

The truth is that Teresa was retaliating for a cheating rumor Jackie entertained about her last year but neither can be held to such unreasonable expectations like addressing reality or admitting fault which is actually ideal because if I cared to see emotionally mature community leaders converse thoughtfully I’d watch Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday not this unhinged turnpike circus.

Jackie’s rival won’t budge so she chooses the nuclear option, looks the reigning matriarch of Paterson in her vacant eyes, and declares confidently “I heard Gia snorts coke in the bathroom at parties” which stopped time on Earth as far as I’m concerned. Is this wild accusation true? Probably not. Was this retaliatory tit equal to the offending tat? Debatable. Do I blame Teresa for immediately whipping into a tailspin and storming out screaming the C-word (no Kathy Wakile, not “canoli kit”) at Jackie no less than 80 times? Girl, no I do not. Jackie has since clarified (backtracked?) that this was an analogy not a rumor she heard which... OK, and whether or not either of the atomic bombs dropped in this breakneck premiere were true, I’m excited to watch our Paterson superstars battle it out for another batshit season!

Esteemed poet laureat of Paterson, NJ.

Join me and my own rock hard nipples next week to recrap a girls trip to Lake George, more developments in the case of Jackie vs Teresa: Jersey Crime Story, and hopefully another cameo by breakout superstar Dog Catania! Please share this recrap with the prostitution whores in your life if you enjoy and follow me on Tumblr (engaged19times), Insta (@engagednineteentimes), and Twitter (@_engaged19times)! I’m recrapping weekly but I don’t get screeners (yet) and it takes me a few days to catch up so please be patient!

XO engaged19times

#rhonj #real housewives #teresa giudice #margaret josephs #jennifer aydin #jackie goldschneider #Dolores Catania #melissa gorga #bravo #bravotv #real housewives of New Jersey #recrap #engaged19times

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orthographewrites · 5 years ago

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🌙 oliver

SEND A SYMBOL FOR…🌙 a time my muse told the truth:

It was Tuesday. Ten days had passed since their departure from his homecity. The nights had grown chilly, but not to the point of needing an excess ofcover to keep yourself warm – something neither of them possessed any problemswith at current time. There was a silence that had run deep for the past hour,with nothing but the crackling of an almost fizzed out fire (barely showcasingthe area around it) and the late night’s humble winds to keep them company.Fatigue ran clear through them both, but one more so than the other and foronce in his own life he preyed for the opportunity to close his eyes and lurehimself to sleep to skip past the antagonizing reasons for him to turn backhome again.

Why was he here, fighting someone else’s hardships? It was a question thathad jumped back and forth, with no clear answer to be heard and leaving hishead in stirred up place; nor was it one he was allowed to dwell on for long,as the faint sounds of clothes and leaves shifting across the fire forced hisattention and senses elsewhere. His head turned in its direction right on timeto catch Caden push herself off the ground and into a seated position, her noseletting out a huff of boredom. ( @alicemorganwrites )

“I can’t sleep and I know you’re awake as well.” Caden’s voice brokethrough like an unwanted guest, leaving much to be desired in terms ofregaining the previous silence he had enjoyed to its fullest. “Let’s do something.”

“Like what?” The words came with a spoken frown, but even so Oliver choseto follow in Caden’s step and remove himself from the harshness of the dirtbelow him. He casually shrugged off a leaf dangling from his sleeve, eyes sharpas they traveled in the direction of his company.

“Hm… let’s talk. How about it?” Unlike him, Caden’s own stare held somethingcurious, if not mischievous to it. Her hand reached for a stick next to herfeet, twirling it between her fingers as she calculated her next step. “I mean…all and all I have been exposing quite a lot about myself this past month withyou and I only think it’s fair if you gave me something back. We could just aswell be dead by the end of the week, so why not?”

Why not? Oh, he could think of at least a hundred reasons as to why not butdecided to bite his tongue, far from being in the shape to verbally argue withsomeone. “I think you know enough about me – I’m not all that interesting.”

Throwing the stick into the fire, Caden quickly shook her head to dismisshis words. “And I think there’s more to it. I’ve seen some of it, yes but there’salso quite a lot about your whole situation which doesn’t make sense to me.”

“And that is?” Oliver felt his body stiffen the further Caden spoke, a distastetaking place inside his mouth as he braced for the next section of theirconversation – not impressed by the direction they were heading at.

“Yeah like that whole ordeal with everyone hating you and all that crap.Don’t get me wrong, I can see why in certain angles, like you do haveone hell of a bad attitude but I wouldn’t say it’s enough of a reason for peopleto want you to basically… drop dead, or whatever.”

Of course it had to be that, of fucking course. And if his body hadn’t beentense before, it certainly was now as he pondered on his options – not enjoyinganything this topic implied, hardly the thing to get him into a chatty mood.Thus, he let out a snort, shaking his head slowly. “You really couldn’t havepicked something a bit more light-hearted? It’s a load of bullshit, that’s whatit is, people who can’t accept change in their lives but alas that’s what we arelike as a community. Witches are hard with their customs and traditions, and myfamily has kept them safe for as long as we can remember. I wasn’t part oftheir long-term plans and I guess I also have the power of getting on theirnerves by not playing by their rules. They can’t control me and I’m unpredictable,far from the type of person my sister seemed to be – and you already know someof the story behind her, don’t you? I won’t go into detail; it won’t do any ofus any good and I need to keep my head clear so… all I can say is that this isn’ta happy story nor does it come with a happy conclusion. But sure, ask and youshall receive.” Oliver’s tone was near mocking at the end of his sentence,a snarl of truth for what was about to leave his mouth.

A singular sigh was tofollow as he shuffled closer to the fire, a way for him to embrace the memoriesthat were about to crack through the surface and sort through the parts hewished to share.

“I’m not going to go into any deeper details, because trust me: you do notwant to deal with that.” The sharpness in his tone lingered on, but there wassomething more foreboding about the way he let the warning slip into the openair between them. A point of no return, asking Caden to be happy with what shewas given. He would tell her what he comfortable with sharing, no more or lessthan that. “But, I’ll try and give you enough so that you can understand why thingsmight have turned the way it have – at least in the way I see it and to start itall off I’ll have to make you understand one thing. Us witches are people who prideourselves on our heritage and most of us don’t enjoy change or a stir in ourordinary lives. Not all, but the majority will be found sharing the sameopinions and strive for a similar lifestyle; and having a bunch of people stuckinside the same walls for generations really isn’t a pointer for individualthinking.”

“Now, what you sort of found out about me is that I used to have a sister alittle older than myself – Cecilia, or Cilia as we called her.” His sister’sname forever tasted of something bitter these days, a bite into a dusty pieceof memory he wanted to spit out and leave behind; to dig down deep undergroundwhere it could stop haunting him. “Well, believe it or not but she was the onesupposed to take after my dad and I can hardly remember a soul who disliked herback home or was against the idea of finally getting another female Head ofMagic to watch over them. People were ecstatic, to be exact to know she wasnext in line and quite frankly I think she would have been perfect at the job.She enjoyed rules and order, excelled in school, had great manners and showedquite an interest with her future already as a fucking twelve-year-old. Now,compare that with me.” There was a pause, mentally sighing at the fact he hadto push on. “I mean, quite frankly I was seven at the time of, well, everything…and you can’t expect a seven-year-old to have their life in check, now can you?I was still playing with my crayons and making my sister’s life a living hellas brothers do – but no one saw it like that.”

There came that familiar gut-wrenching feeling again, it made him dizzy toa point of wanting to cut off the conversation and lay down for a bit. Heexhaled slowly, buying himself time to muster up the coming parts. “This iswhere us disliking change comes in, as in my sister falling out of the pictureand them getting stuck with me as their future. Sometimes I want to believethey simply glorified her too much, but at the same time – did they really? Ican’t remember. Anyway, people didn’t hold back on their opinions regarding me,about their distaste for their situation and what it could lead to in the longrun. No one said it straight to me, at least not at first, but it became quiteevident as school came around the corner and I became something of a dislikeamong children and adults equally – although I tend to give the kids a passthese days, they probably just went along with what their parents told them.Not that it hurt any less, of course, but I find school to have been the leastof my issues.”

“Eventually, as I grew older, people stopped tip-toeing around me – especiallysince they started to expect more out of me around this point. They wanted meto show some dedication to the town, to get further into politics, to mingleabout and make a good impression – whilst they also liked to put me down andremind me that I’d never be as good or important as my sister. Overall, they wouldhave preferred if I was my sister, you understand but sadly I haven’t figuredout a way to pull people back from the dead yet… maybe someday, huh.” Oliverscoffed, wincing his nose at the thought. “However, the full-on backlash youexperienced whilst in town didn’t really come my way until I moved to Rennes.I, uh, sort of had a bit of a meltdown you could say as I finally found myselftaking over the office. I wasn’t ready for it, at all, and I needed some timeaway to think things over but alas everyone took it the wrong way and startedto spread rumors about me abandoning my job – and them – to live life elsewhere.They started to call me a coward and how the fuck knows what behind my back, Idon’t really care these days.” Not the full truth.

“But yeah, can’t say it did a positive number on meand instead of giving the job a second try I, as you might have guessed, stayeddown in Rennes and began to work from a distance. I just feel… awful, like I want to vomit every time I’m supposed to head home. I can’t stay there for toolong nor do I feel welcome, anyway. It’s a situation that’s out of my hand atthis point, I do what I can to keep everyone afloat and out of disaster, but Ialso know that no matter what I try, it’ll never be enough. I’ll never be my sisterand they hate me sorely because of that.” What was he to say beyond this point? That he, deeply within, agreed with everyone? That he wished, above anything, that he could go back in time and reverse the roles somehow or at least attempt to save the life of his own sister? No, he wasn’t going to dive into that today, if ever. It was best left at the back of his head, where it could boil and root itself on its lonesome -- away from prying eyes. “That’s all I’m going to tell you, don’t ask me further questions. Now, we have a pretty long damned day in front of us tomorrow so we should try and get some rest. At least I know I am.”

#brotp: underneath it all we're all savages #soooooo this is basically just them bonding at a campfire #bc they deserve more of that #:))#verse: peculiar meetings and hidden aspects #also this is a long one im sorry #half was written like over a month ago so #if something doesnt make sense ill blame it on that im too lazy to reread it now

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florrickandassociates · 7 years ago

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TGF Thoughts: 2x11-- Day 478

(This is the ep from two weeks ago; I am behind on recap writing. Aiming to have 2x12 up before the finale!)

What’s the strategy behind using previouslies on a streaming show? CBS must expect that at least some viewers will wait until all the episodes are up and binge them, right? I’d be shocked if they had a feature that skipped previouslies the way Netflix does. I mean, just now, I tried to open up the app and play this episode, and CBS played that insanely long Klingon scene that opens Star Trek: Discovery (no, I don’t watch it—just the pilot) for me three times before it let me actually watch TGF.

The static on the TV to rain falling is a cool graphic match.

Diane is waiting for a car at 710 N Hart St. It’s not a real address, obviously. But at first glance it looked like it said McHart street so I’m pointing it out.

Diane is waiting out in the rain. The point of this scene is what happens while Diane waits, but I would LOVE to know what Diane was doing that she’s waiting in the rain.

Her ride is initially supposed to arrive in one minute. Then it jumps to 10, so she and her not-at-all-wet hair run into a laundromat. Guys, her hair looks totally dry. She was holding her bag over her head, and her hair somehow looks perfect. Like, she’s been standing out in the rain and her hair still looks better than Alicia’s hair did for all of season 7.

(I was going to compare her hair to what my hair does when it rains, but y’all don’t know my hair and you DO know the awful Alicia wig.)

Now Diane’s car is 15 minutes away. #Relatable

OMFG, CBS, I PAUSED TO TALK TO MY ROOMMATE, OPENED THE APP AGAIN, AND WHAT DO I GET? KLINGONS. Fix this.

Diane hears grunting and fighting going on in the laundromat, so she goes to investigate. I thought she was going to get mugged in this scene the first time through, to be honest. It turns out that… wait hold on, Diane is wearing heels… she just walked through a puddle in heels?

As I was saying. It turns out that Diane has stumbled upon some sort of underground aikido class. This feels surreal, but I’ll roll with it.

“It’s beautiful,” Diane remarks. The instructor tells her to come back on Tuesday, but Diane says, “It’s not me.” “It is,” the instructor replies. “My life is pretty full right now,” Diane protests. “I know you think that. But it’s not,” the instructor counters.

I am resuming my rewatch, and wouldn’t you know? KLINGONS. I tried so many times I had to switch over to watching on a different device. Not a huge problem, but not a great user experience, especially on a service I’m paying for…

Diane’s phone rings. It’s Jay. He and Marissa have come up with a different suspect in Adrian’s shooting and now they think it’s a neo-Nazi. Even though last week Jay and Marissa believed the shooter was not targeting Adrian, this week they think he’s coming for Diane next, so she needs to be careful.

Diane goes back to watch more aikido. Aaaand credits.

We pick up with a two people on a date. This is A Choice. If there were ever a case that did not need a flashback illustration, it was this one. Unless these are memory pops and I didn’t recognize them as such—hell, even or especially if they are memory pops—this story does not need visuals.

The dude on the date is named RON, a giant subtitle informs us. Is it me or are some of TGF’s structural/storytelling risks verging on dumbing things down for the audience? I’m writing this after 2x12 and that may be on my mind because of 2x12…

Now the couple is at Ron’s apartment, making out. He reaches for a condom and she asks what he’s doing. “Can we just not do that… yet…?” she says.

The woman on the date is named EMILY.

RON and EMILY are in depositions, with Alma Hoff on one side and Liz and Maia on the other.

More flashbacks. RON makes a skeevy comment about EMILY’s age.

“She was laughing. There was no discomfort,” Ron says in the deposition. Yeah. Because Ron gets to decide how comfortable Emily was.

Now there’s a flashback of Emily and Ron kissing. I really don’t get what these flashbacks are supposed to tell me. I don’t want an objective retelling of this encounter because the issue isn’t what did/didn’t happen; it’s how Emily felt. An objective, visual retelling weakens her case unnecessarily. This episode makes it far too easy, I think, to wonder what the issue even is. I’m rereading the Babe.net article about Aziz Ansari, which this episode is obviously about, and there are some pretty striking omissions from the TGF version. In the account reported to Babe, Aziz is much more persistent than “Oh, are you really going to leave now?” and doesn’t give “Grace” clear opportunities to leave. He repeatedly moves her hand towards his penis (not just once while they’re making out) even after she pulls away. He follows her around the apartment and keeps making advances. When she says they can have sex “next time” he pours her another glass of wine and calls it their second date. She flat out says to him that she “doesn’t want to feel forced.” And he tries it again. And again. There’s also the weird fingers-in-throat-porn move.

What I’m saying is that the original situation is gray enough. It doesn’t need to be diluted even more. People already have a hard time buying Grace’s story as sexual misconduct rather than a bad date. Why remove all of the most troubling parts? The parts that best illustrate that this is about rape culture, not just rape? I’m reminded of Jill Filipovic’s opinion piece in The Guardian, which argues that Babe.net’s reporting was an issue with the Ansari story, because “instead of telling this particular story with the care it called for, it was jammed into a pre-existing movement grounded in the language of assault and illegality.” She continues: “As a result, we’re arguing about whether Aziz Ansari is a sexual assailant, and missing the more relevant conversation about sex, male entitlement and misogyny in the bedroom.” Sadly, The Good Fight misses out on this more relevant conversation, too.

(Ron thinks Emily is going to the bathroom to put in a diaphragm. Feels a bit outdated to me, but maybe not?)

The issue that’s brought all of these people to RBL is the blog “Assholes to Avoid” which appears to be the Shitty Media Men list but in blog form. I understand combining these two stories so there can be a legal case, but it feels like the show is conflating actual whisper networks (the Shitty Media Men list was a Google doc, not a blog) with an unknown news outlet sensationalizing a story for clicks. Both are controversial, but only one was meant for public consumption.

According to the Assholes to Avoid home page, you are not supposed to send the site to any men.

I have no issues with Emily’s explanation for putting her story on Assholes to Avoid: she wants to warn other women so they don’t have the same experience.

But Ron was fired (meaning he was penalized more than Ansari, whose face, gallingly, was still on my goddamn Netflix home page the day after the article ran) so now he’s suing the blog! He wants an apology and for Emily to make it clear it’s not true. Um, dude, I don’t think a LAWSUIT is the way to get her to do that. He has now tracked her down (because I assume she made the posting anonymously), forced her to relive a traumatic experience, and put a resource that has potentially helped many, many women avoid dangerous situations in jeopardy. And HE wants an apology from HER? He would’ve had a better chance if he’d just asked her to clarify that non-consensual oral whatever did not mean rape.

“How many male lawyers are at this firm?” Alma asks as she’s leaving negotiations. Liz doesn’t know. Alma continues that she finds it odd that “at a firm with 60% men, a female partner and a female associate have graced us with their presence.” You know what I find odd? That a firm with Diane Lockhart’s name on the letterhead—and, I would guess, Liz Reddick’s name—would take on this case. Does RBL have an identity? Or do they just take whatever cases seem like money and then not question them? (I’m still a little peeved about the fact that “being a defense attorney” on this show seems to mean the inability to ever make choices based on anything other than money.)

“I guess we can turn this into a gender thing,” Liz says. Oh please. Like it was actually unintentional that there were two women assigned to the case. As sure as I know that this show believes defense attorneys are amoral-because-pragmatism, I know that this show believes that lawyers always, always, always think about the optics.

“We can’t win this one. We need to let it go,” Liz tells Adrian, who is still in the hospital. Thank you. Adrian, condescending as ever, asks if this is about gender politics. SO FUCKING WHAT IF IT IS? SO WHAT IF IT IS ABOUT WOMEN NOT WANTING TO BE THE ONES ARGUING AGAINST SOMETHING THAT COULD, I DUNNO, GIVE A YOUNG LAW STUDENT A HEADS UP ABOUT HER STARFUCKING PROFESSOR? Adrian asks this like “gender politics” are silly, some kindergarten boys vs girls battle. Feminism is not silly.

“There is no defamation,” Diane says. Adrian says okay. He wants to be helpful, so he offers to reach out to Bishop and Sweeney or to help with the merger. Diane and Liz are like, “we got it” and that makes Adrian feel useless. “Waltzer went after our clients, so we went after his,” they explain. “What are you two, the Mafia?” Adrian asks disapprovingly, even though he would’ve done the same damn thing if it had been his call. “I didn’t approve of that,” he continues. I will excuse this only because I can understand someone who was just shot and nearly killed feeling like he isn’t needed and being frightened by that notion.

Marissa and Jay then present suspects for the shooter. They include Felix Staples even though they literally just said he had an airtight alibi. I know it’s too much to ask for consistency on timelines or Lucca’s pregnancy, but can we at least get consistency within an episode?

Adrian thinks it’s the neo-Nazi.

Liz casually mentions that the police had their client list and Adrian—TOTALLY understandably this time—freaks.

As soon as his visitors leave, Adrian gets on the phone with the litigation financiers and tells them to make a move if they don’t want the case against Assholes to move to a different firm. Dude, I know you want some power over your life but can you please find a way of asserting power that is productive and does not involve assisting rapists? (No, Ron isn’t a rapist. But if this goes public? Women would be afraid to share their stories, lest they be deanonymized and brought into a lawsuit. And those women might have stories about rapists.)

I find debate over the methods and the specific interpretations of the events interesting. I can see how there is room for debate there. Could Ron have misinterpreted Emily’s actions? Maybe. Could he have understood them but not understood that no means no, because so often in the media “no” means “just try again and then you’ll get the girl”? Sure. Are there reasons a public site like Assholes might cause more trouble than it prevents? Debatable. But Adrian is not debating anything, which is why I’m being tough on him. This isn’t a conversation. He is taking actions that have consequences when he could be recovering or doing something productive.

(I feel like I need to bring out the old “understandable =/= justified” line here because I am not criticizing the writing of Adrian. I believe that he’d do this shit. I just don’t think it’s okay.)

Jay and Marissa go to the police with their leads, and the police are being useless.

Back at the firm, Diane’s accountant Anthony Rapp is waiting for her. And also Diane rehires Jay “with a 10% raise.” “Liz and I approve. It’s done,” Diane says. Awww, Diane got her female-led firm. Kinda.

(My roommate and I got to 5x17 in our rewatch yesterday and she’s excited about the possibility of a Diane/Alicia firm. I’m not spoiling her, but I have so many thoughts about that partnership.)

(I think where I was going with that is that the Diane/Liz partnership makes way more sense to me than Diane/Alicia ever did, at least after I really thought about it.)

Marissa takes this as an opportunity to ask for a raise. Diane ignores her. Marissa’s stepping right into Kalinda’s boots, isn’t she?

Oh hey Lucca!!! Lucca’s on the phone with Colin. They’re on opposite sides of something, again. “OW!” she says loudly in the middle of the conversation. Whether it’s fake pain or real pain, she’s using it strategically. Maia rushes over and helps her. (And by helps her, I mean she helps her stand up and she helps her trick Colin. Again, Maia’s only strength seems to be tricking people via phone.)

As Maia and Lucca talk about how many weeks Lucca has left (four!) (but we all know it’s going to be two so she can go into labor in the finale, but also timeline lol), Colin RUNS down the stairs and into Lucca’s office. She’s shocked to see him. He explains that he was in the elevator. “You’re just fucking with me, aren’t you!?” he exclaims. Maia excuses herself from the argument, taking Lucca’s shoes with her. She doubles back once she realizes she still has the shoes, then leaves again. I wonder if that was scripted or if Rose just forgot to put down the prop.

The litigation financiers tell Diane, Liz, and Julius to keep the depositions going. The financiers are willing to put $2.1 mil behind this case because of a class action in the works.

When Diane says the name of the site, Jer winces because he doesn’t like swearing. “Well, neither do I, but that’s its name,” Diane says. Please, Diane. You fucking love to swear.

“This is Adrian. I know him. He is bedridden, and he’s trying to assert himself,” Liz says, correctly. Julius is tempted by the money. Diane is on the fence.

Lucca’s four weeks from giving birth and she and Colin are just now having a discussion—during the work day, of course—about how they’re going to raise the baby.

You know what I don’t understand about this Colin-wants-Lucca-to-move-to-D.C. plot? Isn’t it typical for congresspeople to keep their primary residence at home, where their constituents are? Even if just for optics?

Also ffs, Colin, Lucca is not uprooting her life because of your career. And unless we are doing season three of TGF in D.C., I’m gonna need Lucca to stay in Chicago.

“This law firm takes you for granted, and you know it,” Colin tells Lucca. Last season I wouldn’t have agreed with that, but this season, yeah, I see it.

“In D.C., you will be the significant other of a Congressman,” Colin says. I mean she would also be that in Chicago, and she already resides in his district.

“Am I broke again?” Diane worries when she meets with Accountant Anthony Rapp. I think his name on the show is Glenn. That is easier to type. “A year and a half ago you were,” he replies. “Oh, I know. I remember that meeting,” Diane responds. Hee. Apparently Diane is now “whole.” She made her money back—all of it!!!—and can now retire and buy her house in France and all of that. Glenn attributes this to Diane not losing as much as they thought (um, how), smart investments, and Diane saving money. And also Trump. I do not buy it for a second. You do not go from losing everything to being where you were after 40 years of work in one and a half years. That is silly.

Can I take another moment to mourn the Diane bankruptcy arc that never was? The writers could’ve and should’ve done so much more with that last season, and now it’s gone.

Kurt’s accountant (Diane is surprised such a person exists) has contacted Diane’s accountant, and the accountants have decided that it’s time for Diane and Kurt to make a decision about divorcing or not divorcing because finances. So… “I won’t be that woman” just means “this particular argument is over let’s go back to marriage limbo like I’m Alicia Florrick”? Coolcoolcool.

“Isn’t that what you want?” the accountant asks Diane when she seems surprised to hear the word divorce. What DOES Diane want? I don’t think Diane knows. (“I don’t know,” is Diane’s next line, as a matter of fact.)

A dude puts a swastika on Marissa’s latte, at her request, idk, it’s weird and kind of amusing. It’s also an effective ploy.

Diane phones Kurt and gets his voicemail. “I wouldn’t mind getting a drink tonight,” she says casually. She’s also unwrapping an aikido robe (is that the right terminology).

On her computer, there’s a story about Trump signing an order allowing “the planting of firecrackers in the rectums of grizzly bears.” This is not a hallucination—and that’s the best (and most affecting) part. The absurd stories could easily be true. Speaking of, did anyone else see @Poniewozik’s tweet? This week there was a very similar story… but in reality.

OMG CAN I RANT FOR A MINUTE ABOUT A DIFFERENT CRITIC ON TWITTER WHO KEEPS INSISTING THAT TGF HANDLES SOCIAL ISSUES WELL WHILE TGW NEVER DID? The Debate was one episode. Yes, TGF is doing a fantastic job capturing the absurdity of the Trump era. But this was TGW’s wheelhouse too. I think I will rant about this more in my 2x12 comments. It bothers me that he keeps saying (he’s tweeted it like three times now) TGW failed at this when being timely and topical was always one of the things critics acknowledged as one of the show’s strengths.

The neo-Nazi didn’t shoot Adrian either! Now Jay and Marissa think it’s time to work with the police. Marissa volunteers to look through case files, but Diane pulls her onto the Assholes to Avoid case. “I thought we were dropping that,” Marissa responds. “We got an injection of cash,” Liz explains. “Seriously? Don’t we hate this?” Marissa questions. (Good question. And nice use of “we” even though you’re a newly minted investigator talking to two name partners.)

“I wouldn’t say hate. We’re obligated,” Diane says. Ohhh yes this is a new pet peeve. Y’all are not obligated. You were not assigned this case. You chose to take it for the money.

Liz asks Marissa to look into Emily’s past dates. “So we’re blaming the victim?” Marissa rephrases.

“Why do you think she’s the victim? What about him?” Jay chimes in, unhelpfully. “Oh my God, seriously?” Marissa responds. I feel that, even as weird as this specific case they’re debating seems to be. I’m just pretending it’s the Aziz story because it’s so obviously meant to be.

Anyway this devolves quickly into Marissa and Jay fighting about consent. I believe it from Marissa—tbh I’d be shocked if she behaved any other way—but Jay is more of a stretch. I totally believe him taking the guy’s side but I don’t really see him picking a fight with Marissa in front of the partners.

“Marissa. Can you do this, or should I give it to Jay?” Diane interrupts sternly. “No, I can do it. I just can’t turn my opinions off as I do,” Marissa replies.

“What do you think about this?” Liz asks Diane after Marissa and Jay leave. “I think there’s gonna be a lot of strong opinions there,” Diane responds. I don’t get why this firm still has this case. Is $2.1 million really enough to get Diane and Liz to go against their principles (or at least what I thought were Diane’s principles), put RBL on record as the law firm that went after Assholes to Avoid, AND cause internal chaos?

It’s not like RBL isn’t doing well. DIANE JUST MADE BACK ALL HER MONEY, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. And the sketchy settlement a few weeks back—you know, the one the firm just had to take even though it kept corrupt cops on the force—gave them millions. If RBL is going to be LG, can they at least own it?

“We represent murderers and embezzlers but it’s always this stuff,” Liz says. Fair point.

“It was a bad date, that’s all,” Maia says to Marissa over coffee on the 22nd floor. Oh, Maia. I wish I could say I was surprised that Maia feels this way, but Maia holding this opinion is… consistent with pretty much everything about Maia. If Maia started quoting feminist writers, honestly, I’d be shocked. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Maia doesn’t seem like the type to question anything, especially not power structures or systems of any kind.

Anyway, Maia and Marissa’s conversation devolves into an argument among several lawyers, including some dude who calls warning other women against dating an asshole “revenge porn.” I know this is just an escalating nonsense argument but DUDE. DUUUUUUUDE. Revenge porn is posting private nude photos of someone you were once intimate with for the world to see specifically to hurt them. This? Is not that.

“It looks like she was trying to punish him because she was disappointed in herself,” Maia chimes in. Save it for the depositions, Maia. How the fuck did you get that?

Wasn’t there a Maia revenge porn plot last year? I can’t decide if I think it would make her more or less sympathetic to Emily. On the one hand, she’s been in a similar spot to Ron and could see him as a victim. On the other hand, what Maia did—literally just exist and date someone who wasn’t her asshole ex—is nothing like what Ron did (something beyond just existing), and what asshole ex did (revenge porn) is not really like what Emily did (an anonymous comment shared with a network meant for other women), so I could see her having a hard time empathizing with Ron, too. Oh, Maia.

“No, she’s disappointed in the whole fucked up dating scene where guys think they can get away with anything,” Marissa counters. And that’s the closest we come to discussing rape culture (again, that’s the thing this ep needs to be discussing). “He’s not getting away with anything. He can’t get a job,” the dude who was talking about revenge porn says. YEAH. THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT. Women are sick of guys getting away with anything so they are coming together to say that no, men cannot get away with anything. That no, it is not acceptable to ignore verbal and non-verbal cues and signs of discomfort on a date. That no, you should not continue to pursue someone after she’s told you “no.” And so on.

Also: part of the point is that these lines shouldn’t be so blurred. Emily shouldn’t be afraid of losing her job if she rejects Ron’s advances. The way society thinks about “bad dates” is a huge part of the problem. A guy being too pushy is not a one-off “bad date.” That guy is probably being pushy because he’s been taught—by society, by the media—that guys are supposed to be pushy. THAT is a large part of what needs to change.

This is a bit tangential, but how many women, over the years, have lost out on jobs because men told each other the women in question were “bitches” or “crazy” or “cold” (in addition, of course, to flat-out misogyny and discrimination against mothers and all the various other reasons men with hiring power might not hire women)? Probably a lot, since it doesn’t take much for a woman to get slapped with one of those labels. I dunno if this is relevant here, but if we’re going to talk about men losing their jobs because women shared their experiences, it feels like we should also talk about how accepted it’s been for women to lose out on jobs because of men sharing their experiences. This is what I mean about structures being the core issue here. I don’t know what that means for this lawsuit, but I do know I am not a fan of anything that upholds sexist structures. And if Assholes to Avoid wins this lawsuit, that’s exactly what’ll happen. I mean, we know there’s a class action in the works. Taking on this case and fighting for Ron, against the website (not Emily!)? That’s not just about what Ron did or didn’t do. That’s about fighting to keep a system in place.

Liz goes to talk to Ian at the police station. She wants to know why the police think Adrian’s shooter was black when Adrian identified him as white.

Is dumpster a proper noun? I have come across three separate works (two books and the captions on this show) in the last two weeks that have capitalized it. Apparently Dumpster is a brand name and thus a proper noun.

Now Adrian’s doubting his recollection. Maybe the shooter was black.

Hey, Adrian and Jay are friendly again!!!! Yay!!!

Liz brings Adrian dinner (possibly not actually dinner but rather a cupcake? Or a parfait with whipped cream on it?) and they both lick frosting or whipped cream or whatever off their fingers it’s cute unfortunately this scene then turns into a debate about #MeToo and Adrian is very very wrong.

“How’s the Assholes case coming?” Adrian asks. “You really boxed us in on that one, didn’t you?” Liz responds. Didn’t you decide to take the money? But point taken. “Not intentionally,” Adrian says. What part of calling the litigation financiers so the case doesn’t get dropped was unintentional?

The litigation dudes are named TOM AND JERRY? Why didn’t I remember this?

“Maybe #MeToo has gone too far, Liz,” Adrian suggests. Nah.

“I think good causes start out being good and end up becoming mobs,” Adrian explains. He does not, however, explain in what way #MeToo has become a mob. “Like Black Lives Matter?” Liz counters. “No. I don’t understand,” Adrian replies.

“Women join together, and all of a sudden, men all over the world are worried about mobs or witch hunts, but you don’t have the same worry about Black Lives Matter hurting white people’s reputations,” Liz explains. Pretty solid point. (Would also like to add that I saw a lot of people complaining that #MeToo would become a witch hunt after the Babe article… but I saw much less, um, you know, witch hunting.)

“Liz. It was a bad date. Anybody could have a bad date,” Adrian deflects.

“Yeah. But we’re not just stopping at the date. Now we’re trying to destroy the website,” Liz points out. (Yep.)

“A website that destroys reputations,” Adrian counters. “Of men,” Liz adds.

“Don’t make me out to be some kind of cartoon male chauvinist,” Adrian accuses. Liz is doing nothing of the sort, Adrian. She is pointing out that you’re behaving like all the other well-meaning men who perpetuate a system that sees a man’s reputation as more important than a woman’s thoughts and feelings.

And then the argument cuts out. This episode’s point seems to be that this is a contentious topic that people love to debate and can’t agree on, but does it have anything more to say? (I know I obviously have strong views about this, but I’m not really sure why the writers chose to do an episode on this and ended up basically just saying that people disagree. How… important.)

Marissa’s interviewing other people who dated Emily, and another guy has a similar story (he also seems like he’s suggesting that if he buys a girl dinner she should fuck him). Marissa dismisses it as “bullshit gossip” when she relays the info to Maia. “She just seems normal,” Marissa says.

Jay has found another potential suspect!

Diane is back in the aikido class! I am intrigued but have very little to say!

Diane showers and then heads to a bar to meet Kurt. I like that her hair is wet during this scene—it conveys how comfortable she is around Kurt.

Kurt says “sorry about your partner” and Diane doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He means Adrian, and since Adrian is fine, Diane is fine. Funny how Diane’s been paranoid all season when she wasn’t being targeted and now her firm’s being targeted and she’s fine.

“So. Um. You want a divorce,” Diane begins the hard part of the conversation. “What?” Kurt replies. Diane repeats the information from the accountants.

“What do you want?” Kurt asks Diane. “Kurt. We see each other, what, thirty days out of the year?” Diane replies. “We’re both working,” Kurt says. “I know, but that doesn’t make for a marriage, so if you want a divorce, I’m fine,” Diane says. I don’t know how to read this. The first time through I was annoyed that Diane’s position is that it’s up to Kurt when Kurt is the one who cheated. But now I’m wondering if this line is actually Diane stating what she wants from their relationship: a marriage where they actually see each other regularly and support each other. I can see how the physical distance between them could lead Kurt to cheat (though I don’t think it’s a valid excuse), too.

Kurt asks if this is about Tully. I guess he knows about Tully now. Good. Diane says it’s not about Tully, “it’s about what you want.” But what does Diane want? Even if Diane is subtlety requesting that Kurt move to Chicago so they can live together full-time, she’s not saying whether or not she forgives Kurt (I guess the forgiveness is implicit?) or talking about the challenges they’ve faced. I do not understand why this is about what Kurt wants. Would Diane just go along with whatever? If Kurt came back and said, “I want to live in the middle of nowhere and fuck pretty young blondes while you live here and remain my wife” would Diane go along? Or does she think that giving Kurt space and choices is the best approach, knowing that if he makes a decision she doesn’t like, she’ll leave?

Kurt, wisely, replies: “Diane… I’ve been trying the past year to make things up to you, to… I’ve been a prisoner on probation. I’m tired.” “Kurt, that’s the most you’ve talked about it in two years,” Diane replies. Awwww, talking! “I’m not a big talker,” he replies. “Uh, I know. But I need you to be. I need you to tell me what it is you want. And if it is a divorce, then I understand, and if it’s not…” she says. “I’ve been telling you…” he starts to say, but Diane interrupts. “No, you’ve been telling me that we should spend the weekend together, that I should come to your cabin.” “That we should move in together,” Kurt adds. “As roommates. I’m too old to be a roommate, so if we’re divorcing, well, let’s just do that. I’ve spent too much of the last year drifting, letting events happen to me, and I’m not gonna do that anymore,” Diane says. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. […] Because you want a real answer,” Kurt says as he leaves the bar.

As always with D/K scenes, I am not sure I understand what they’re talking about (Kurt’s felt like a prisoner on probation? Why? What Kurt wants is the most important thing? Diane has been drifting and wants to stop and wants a decision, but that decision is Kurt’s? Kurt wants Diane to be his roommate? Huh?) but I love that they’re talking. This reminds me of those Alicia/Peter scenes not in content but in the way that the writers had a knack for screwing up the build-up and then absolutely nailing the conversation, even if it came years too late.

A Mr. Rose is at the firm to see Lucca. “You are pregnant,” he informs her. “No, no, just fat,” Lucca snarks. He is a headhunter out of D.C., and he wants to find Lucca a job. “Colin called you?” Lucca asks. She also says she’s not moving. Mr. Rose gives her job offers from five firms. Damn, Lucca. I know she’s getting most of these offers because of her political ties, but just think: three years ago she was a bar attorney. (The more Lucca’s situation parallels Alicia’s the more I want Lucca to talk to Alicia. And y’all know I already wanted that badly.)

Lucca is walking around the office barefoot. Alright. I have not ever seen any of the pregnant employees at my office walk around barefoot, and my office is super casual, but OK, writers.

Lucca calls Colin, angry. But Colin didn’t call Mr. Rose. His mom did—or at least that’s what Lucca and Colin suspect. Guys, this sounds just like every conversation Eli ever had about Jackie Florrick.

Now a woman named Gretchen, who is supposed to be Moira Donegan but also supposed to be the Babe writer who sent that tirade to a reporter about “second wave feminism,” is in depositions. That’s a weird hybrid. She say the goal of her site is to get men to realize their behavior will no longer go “unnoticed and unremarked.”

“So your blog is about scaring men?” Liz twists her words.

“Look, this is not a man-hating site, Diane,” Gretchen says suddenly. “I didn’t say a word,” Diane says. “You didn’t have to. You’re representing the people suing us,” Gretchen says. Fair.

“So we should all just march behind you, right? Because only you know what’s best for all women?” Diane replies, weirdly. Gretchen may be a little arrogant—and, as she makes clear with her next line, she actually does believe she knows more than “second wave feminist” Diane—but I have a hard time hearing this line from Diane. I don’t have a hard time believing it, necessarily, I just think it’s unnecessarily harsh and it feels like the main reason Diane is being so confrontational is that Gretchen just named her personally.

“I know more than you second-wave feminists. You just want to get along now. Don’t hurt the men, they might hurt us back. You have made the way for the next generation. For us. Thank you. Now you can take a rest,” Gretchen continues. Nah. I don’t think that’s how it works.

Gretchen also accuses Diane and her generation of enabling Weinstein and Charlie Rose (who guest starred on TGW, for anyone who forgot!)

“You know your problem? You’re too busy name-calling to realize how much we agree with you,” Diane replies. “And you’re too confident of your feminist credentials to realize we don’t need you,” Gretchen counters. Please make this scene stop. I don’t know what the point of it is, except to make Diane look good by making Gretchen insufferable and ageist???

(That’s not to say this isn’t true to life—the writer at Babe basically said the same thing—but rather to say that I think the writers could have used this screentime to do something more interesting.)

Another woman shares her experience of her date with Ron. She says he was pushy, overeager, tried a move on her he’d seen in porn, and tried to use force (nice of the writers to mention this in passing at the 37 minute mark when they could have made these points in the flashbacks we had to watch.)

Now Maia gets to question! She asks this woman why she didn’t go on Assholes to Avoid. “If I wrote about every date that ended like that, there wouldn’t be any guys left,” she explains. That’s depressing!

But this woman also doesn’t blame Emily for writing about her experience—they just made different choices. Exactly.

Maia shares Marissa’s research (the research Marissa told her to dismiss, the research that obviously was not going to be dismissed because… I’ve seen this show) with Liz and Diane, then questions Emily about it.

Marissa’s suddenly in the room for this, and she’s disgusted. “I thought we agreed it was bullshit gossip,” Marissa accuses. Maia says she’s just doing her job. She is, and Marissa should know that.

Maia also says she’s “trying to show that there’s another side to the issue.” Sigh.

“You talked the same way about you and Amy. To me. You said that Amy was paranoid about you and Carine, that she was crazy,” Marissa fumes. OH GOODIE. Important conversations happened offscreen and Maia ranted about her gf being paranoid when Maia actually cheated. You have a Maia problem, show. If Maia were just unlikable, I could deal with that—I find unlikable protagonists fascinating. But Maia is unlikable, unintelligent, and boring all at the same time! Apart from her friendships with Marissa and Lucca and the dynamic she has with Diane (or supposedly has, since it’s never on screen), I don’t have a reason to care about Maia. And all the reasons I just listed? I’m sure this will come as a surprise, but I care about the Marissa, Lucca, and Diane halves of those relationships infinitely more than the Maia half.

“So when I’m being deposed, maybe they can use that against me,” Maia responds. Careful, Maia. You might not know it, but we know you were caught on camera…

Liz and Jay go to Ian with their new suspect, and then they find out that Detective Whitehead (the corrupt cop!) is highly involved in the investigation, and BAM, they instantly realize he’s guilty and he’s arrested on the spot! Alright. (I was obviously very invested in figuring out who did it…)

Diane is at another aikido class!

Split screen phone calls remind me of Lizzie McGuire so they feel weird on TGF.

Also, there are a few shots that were clearly filmed to be split-screened (exactly half of the frame contains nothing of interest, like on texting scenes on Jane the Virgin before the texts pop up on screen) and it bothers me.

The entire 22nd floor begins to argue about sexual harassment.

Lucca finds Rod Habercore (from 2x01!) in her office. He offers her a job! And then Lucca sets off the singing dog that’s still in her desk drawer! Heh.

Lucca asks if Colin sent him. He didn’t—he just knows others are after her. Lucca smiles after he leaves. The only reason I want Lucca to stay at RBL right now is that the show is at RBL.

So wait, Ron is suing Emily and the website?

Diane, Liz, and Maia choose this moment—as Emily and Gretchen are deciding whether or not to settle—to question their litigation financiers and what they’re actually doing here. A little late.

Diane is practicing aikido moves in her office. I love that Diane found a new activity that makes her happy!

Gretchen shows up at her office door. “My guess is you’ve never thought of yourself as a traitor,” she opens. “Is that a question?” “What do you think?” “No, I have never thought of myself as a traitor,” Diane responds. “I’m closing Assholes to Avoid. So, thanks a lot,” Gretchen reveals. “You’re welcome,” Diane says. “You know why this happened? Because we were adding one of your litigation financiers to our list. Jerry. Asshole to Avoid. And you did his dirty work. You closed us down,” Gretchen explains. (Wow, who would ever have thought…)

“You know what your problem is? Women aren’t just one thing. And you don’t get to determine what we are. Next time, hire a lawyer and do your list right,” Diane replies. Am I supposed to be cheering Diane on? If this scene is meant to show that a woman who is fighting against sexual harassment can also be arrogant and ageist, while a woman who can champion feminism can also side with men who harass women because she wants to make a profit, then I like this scene. Diane is right: women aren’t just one thing. But why does Diane get to be right? (And I think this scene, if it wanted to frame Diane as being right-yet-wrong, could’ve done a much better job of making that point.) How is Assholes to Avoid, as a site, saying that women are just one thing? Is it? And Diane hints that there is a legal way to create a list of assholes to avoid—now that’s interesting! Why didn’t we hear more about that? What is a way to make a site like this that doesn’t wind up with a defamation suit? No judge ruled that she committed a crime (this was a civil case!) and the only reason she settled was that she would’ve gone broke if she opened herself up to further lawsuits. I’m genuinely curious: what actions does Diane think she could’ve taken here that would’ve prevented this outcome?

When I watched this scene, I definitely saw it as a triumphant moment for Diane. Rewatching it, it feels less triumphant and more fraught. I am trying to imagine the scene I would’ve wanted instead, and I wouldn’t want something clean (these issues are complex), I wouldn’t want something unearned and out of character (like Diane dismissing Gretchen and then donating money to a charity), and I wouldn’t want something too didactic. Now I’m wondering if the problem is that Gretchen is written as being so unreasonable and aggressive while Diane is a familiar face, so the scene comes across like Gretchen is a villain and Diane put her in her place.

Diane watches Tom and Jerry high five, so I do think we’re meant to question her actions.

Kurt appears! “I like seeing that side of you,” he says. “I like showing that side,” Diane replies. “So where are we, Kurt?” “I have my real answer,” Kurt says. And his answer is that “we haven’t tried being married. We’ve tried balancing career and marriage, and we can’t. I’m getting a job with the FBI in Chicago. It means not traveling. It means staying here. I’m asking that you sell your apartment and we look together for a larger place and we move in permanently together. We stop pretending that we can do this part time. And we live together until we die,” Kurt says. SOUNDS GOOD! I love it when characters have conversations. And this sounds like what Diane and Kurt both want.

I would like a little more closure on the Holly of it all, but I’m also fine without it since I don’t really believe that Kurt cheated and I’m totally fine acting like the only issue is that Kurt and Diane were too distant from each other to make each other happy.

Diane then asks Kurt if he voted for Trump. He didn’t (yay!). Diane give him a huge hug. “I wrote in Ted Cruz,” Kurt explains. Heh. That’s not much better, but I’ll take it.

Adrian’s out of the hospital!!! Everyone welcomes him back to the firm. Maia is front and center. Why? Marissa I would understand, but Maia? Front and center?

Adrian announces that the firm is a family. (No, it’s not, but I’ll say awwww anyway.)

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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rauliskafan · 7 years ago

Text

The Doctor and His Doll: Everything Special

Author’s Note: Happy Tuesday and Happy Holidays!!! The Doctor and His Doll are about to exchange gifts. So why are they both a little sad??? Read on to find out and check out earlier parts of the story below!!!

The Doctor and His Doll

The Doctor and His Doll: Story Hour

The Doctor and His Doll: Date Night

The Doctor and His Doll: All Hallows’ Eve

The Doctor and His Doll: Fractured Fairy Tale

The Doctor and His Doll: Sugar Rush

Tagging @vintagemichelle91, @mrschiltoncat, @yourtropegirl

“To your successful semester and a fantastic finish.”

“Amen, Doc.”

With your finals complete, you practically ran to Fredrick’s house and happily hugged him at first sight. His large hands lingered near the small of your back. You savored the feeling for several seconds and ultimately pulled away expecting a smile. Wish granted. But for some reason, he still looked sad as he guided you inside.

“Oh! You… decorated.”

“That was the idea.”

His attempt at adorning the abode with signs of the season was… simple. A few strands of garland gracefully draped over the window sills, ornaments scattered on the surface of his recently purchased coffee table, and a multi-colored star positioned atop a bookcase. No tree. A part of you wanted to tenderly shake him, to tell him that it was high time he made this place a home for so many reasons and---

“A drink, Doll?”

But instead you just smiled and nodded, dropping your shoulder bag as he popped the bubbly and poured. Clinking your champagne flute to Frederick’s, you sipped slowly and saw his eyes sparkling some when he lowered the glass of golden bubbles from his lips.

“I made you chocolate hazelnut cream cheese puffs to celebrate,” he said with a little wink.

“You know the way to a girl’s heart,” you replied, toasting him again. Of course, there was so much more to the story. For not only had he found his way to the place that skipped a beat whenever he so much as sighed, he also excavated paths to your soul that you never even new existed. His voice, his hands, every tap of his cane became a blueprint for a universe so sweet, and you wanted to live there always.

At the very least, you longed to see his smile come Christmas morning.

So why were you exchanging gifts in the middle of December?

“Sit,” he said, topping off your glass. Finishing his drink, he reached for two neatly wrapped gifts.

“Open this one first,” he suggested pointing to the bigger rectangle.

“I’m excited!” you answered. For a few seconds you pretended to play with the paper. But it wasn’t as if you were going to recycle the silver snowflakes embossed against a blue background. Tearing, the rips harmonizing with the music of his laughter, you clawed through the shining paper and tape to reveal a book with pastel tinted prints, four glorious girls on the cover.

“Golden Girls Forever?” you said, feeling your lips coil into a smile as Frederick blushed.

“So many behind the scenes tidbits,” he informed you. “And cast interviews and guest star profiles and---”

“I take it you already gave it a once over?” you asked.

“I… I might have skimmed through,” he admitted, his blush morphing from pink to scarlet, and you quickly kissed his cherry cheek.

“Well that won’t do,” you said. Setting the book aside, you reached into your shoulder bag for your first gift wrapped in gold and held your breath, fearing that you might erupt as you watched him unwrap. Maybe you didn’t burst, but his eyes looked ready to make that move as he turned the gift, a book, to face you…

…with the same cover, a quartet of four smiles constantly contented.

“We are such nerds,” you said, feeling your eyes roll in your head as he laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“We are niche fans with exceptional tastes,” Frederick corrected, and you shook your head, nuzzling his nose until he relented.

“So... nerds,” he finally echoed. “Only you can make that sound like a good thing.”

“The best thing,” you confirmed. “We have more fun than ordinary people.”

“Doll, nothing about you is ordinary.”

Thank you, Doc,” you said.

“I am not done yet,” Frederick said. “Open the other one.”

“This’ll be hard to top,” you said, gesturing to the book. Or rather books. Acquiescing, you peeled back the paper to reveal a leather-bound case. Instantly, you recognized the name of the store and started to speak when he pressed one finger to your lips.

“To take notes,” he said. “Spring semester will start up before you know it. I adore the fact that you are old school when it comes to your homework.”

And you adored snuggling on this couch, feeling his fingers running through your hair when you drafted an outline arguing whether Kant or Mill made more sense when placing signposts on the road to human happiness. You pulled out the pen and tore off a piece of the wrapping paper. Scribbling fast, you passed the new note into his waiting hands and tilted your head to your fallen bag.

Nerds AND psychics. We know each other way too well, Doc.

Frederick arched an eyebrow, and you pulled out a package for his perusal. When he unwrapped, there was another set of writing utensils. Maybe not identical but close enough to let him laugh.

“For your next bestseller,” you hummed.

“Are you going to ever get around to reading the first one?” he teased.

“It’s my New Year’s resolution,” you said. Dropping your head, you listened to the beating of his heart. Calm and even and music to your ears, you held him, hoping this second could stretch into an eternity when he sighed like a song.

“You and me,” he started.

“Tell me more. Write a poem on the spot.” He seemed to struggle before the words spilled off his tongue.

“A matched set,” he said. “Like the pen and pencil.”

“That works,” you said, the simple statement somehow enough. Curling deeper into his side, you enjoyed the closeness of his body. The silence stayed comfortable until his sighs grew heavy, and he shifted away.

“You okay?”

“I suppose,” he said. His frame sagged, and he stared at his feet.

“Oh, now that was convincing,” you said. Slipping to your knees, you reached for his face and slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours. “What’s up, Doc? What aren’t you telling me?”

He parted his lips to speak but made no sound. Still you waited, your fingers stroking his slightly stubbled cheek, circling the space that was his scar.

“I… this is lovely,” he began.

“And I can’t wait for the cream cheese puffs,” you replied. “You must have been a baker in another life.”

“Would that I could have made you some chocolate chip pancakes on Christmas morning.”

Your fingers stopped, and you narrowed your stare, nibbling on your lip before you uttered a single syllable.

“Yeah,” you murmured, barely masking your disappointment, praying the hope you had hidden did not show in too bold a shade of sad.

“But I… I am sure that your family will be overjoyed to have you back home.”

Suddenly, like a crossword puzzle clue reaching the depths of your subconscious, the word having spent hours on the tip of your tongue, the mystery made sense, and you tightened your grip on his face.

“Is that why we’re doing this today?” you asked.

“I… well yes,” he replied, his voice thick with sorrow. “I assume you will be leaving soon.”

“Why would you think that? I was here for Thanksgiving.” Which was when you both opted against turkey, for obvious reasons, and made a feast of Caprese Salad followed by linguine with clam sauce. You still giggled at the memory of the noodle dangling from his lips before he slurped it down.

“That was different,” Frederick continued. “What was that? A long weekend. Now you will leave for… such a ling time.”

He spoke it like a death sentence before you lifted off the floor to return to his side.

“Well… Paulette did invite me to come home with her,” you said.

“Paulette?” he quickly echoed.

“Not my first choice,” you confessed. “But news flash, Doc. I haven’t gone home for the holidays in… years.”

Once more his green eyes grew wide; you knew he had questions that went unasked… that you preferred to leave unanswered.

As for the good doctor…

“Are you sticking close to these parts?” you asked.

“I… I am,” he said.

“And what are you planning to do?”

“I…”

Unable to finish, he moved away from you and seized his cane. As he paced the room, you pictured him decorating with tears in his eyes, planning a celebration that, in his mind, felt like a kind of goodbye.

“I… I thought I would read up on the Girls and write you letters.”

“Well you have the pens,” you said, trying for a joke.

“Letters…” he continued, skipping over your sentiment and clutching his cane tighter. “About how much I missed you.”

Leaving your seat, cold without him close, you held his waist and shook your head.

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” you said. “Home is hard.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his metal clinking. Laying your hand on his chest, you thought him the Tin Man dying to love and not knowing that such feeling was inside him all along.

“I can just as easily be lonely here,” he sadly said, and you grasped his face, kissing him and savoring his taste until he broke free to breathe…

…and you smiled.

“Or I could hang with you and your exceptional tastes,” you said. “I’ve been waiting all week… longer…”

It felt as if you were looking into a mirror. His gears, wheels working wildly, suddenly stopped. His cane fell. You caught him before he could stumble, your arms around his neck and your lips close to his ear.

“Doc, don’t make me come right out and ask it,” you whispered. “Don’t you get that---”

“Stay with me,” he quickly said. “I will make you pancakes every morning. For dinner too if you would like.”

“I would like,” you said. “More of this.”

Kissing him and running your hands up and down his back, you eased him back to the couch and gingerly assumed the place on his lap. You stroked his hair and watched, felt him relax.

“Do I really get you all to myself for an entire month?” he asked.

“Looks like, Doc,” you answered. “Hope you won’t get sick of me.”

“Never in a million years,” he swore, leaning in to kiss you when he stopped short.

“What?” you asked.

“I… the gifts.”

“Frederick, they’re fabulous,” you assured him.

“But come Christmas morning I will have nothing to---”

“I will have you,” you said. “Best gift of all. Don’t you know that?”

Frederick’s face stayed blank. But you felt no fear, waiting… almost certain that---

“I know that walking into your shop was the start of something special,” he said. “I want more in the new year… longer…”

“Forever,” you promised, hugging him and resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes. When you looked for the light again, you saw the snow starting to fall through the window.

“But first…”

He whimpered when you moved away, but you were fast to retrieve his cane and offer your arm.

“Take me for a walk in the snow?”

With a smile he stood. The cream puffs and the champagne and the Girls could wait. Christmas would come soon enough, promising so much splendor. Right now, you wanted your first snowfall with Frederick, a warm world glittering with fresh ice…

…confirmation that the day he crossed your path was the start of everything special.

#raúl esparza #frederick chilton #chilton x reader #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #the doctor and his doll

47 notes · View notes

zoemurph · 7 years ago

Text

to have a friend, chapter four: $80

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3

fun fact i actually finished this like.....tuesday at 4 am cause i died for a bit between like 10-1 and then couldnt sleep. i have edited it since then tho so i promise its not too much of a disaster!

warnings: implied past self harm, discussions of mental health, depression/depressive episodes, some suicidal thoughts. let me know if anything else needs to be tagged

enjoy!

From: Evan To: Connor Just go t home Hope things ar eok with yoru family

Connor stares at the texts for a few moments before he falls back onto his bed.

Who knows how his family is.

Actually, he knows. A fucking mess. That’s what his family is.

He can hear Zoe practicing in the room next to him, forgoing headphones and using her amp because she wants to piss him off more. Larry had slunk back to his office, and Connor was sure he did as soon as the opportunity presented itself. His mom is in the kitchen, probably aggressively cleaning dishes like a sparkling plate will fix her shattered family.

Connor stares at the ceiling.

Why did he think he could do any of this?

He lifts his phone and looks at the screen again. Evan is trying. Which is just ridiculous. Evan is trying with this family. What the fuck.

From: Connor To: Evan cool they never are but thanks i guess

He tosses his phone to the side and debates doing homework. There’s not really much of a debate — he’s not going to do it — but the fact that he considered it is probably worth something.

It’s not that late yet, which is frustrating. He wants to go to bed, but he’s also too high strung for that. Usually he’d be exhausted but—

Connor studies his ceiling.

He’d been angry. So angry. Burning and explosive. He had been on the edge of his rope and about to break— and then he’d been doused in a shock of cold water. He’d been standing outside the bathroom, insides blistering and turning to ash, and then he’d heard Evan’s unnatural breathing and all of that had just stopped. The fire was gone and he was left with only mild panic that made his mouth taste like metal and an icy chill of not knowing what to do or how to help.

Somehow, sitting on the floor of him and Zoe’s painfully childish bathroom with Evan had been the most real part of the night. It felt the most solid, most tangible. Handing Evan one of those silly cups his mom kept buying, their fingers brushing as Evan took it with shaking hands, that was the most grounded he had felt in days.

Fucking weird.

There’s a knock on his doorframe.

Connor sits up to see Cynthia standing there. “Oh. Hi.”

She smiles, sadly because that’s the only way she smiles nowadays, and takes a step into his room. “Did Evan leave?”

“Uh…yeah. It’s not like he could hide in my closet or anything.” They both look toward the disaster that is Connor’s closet. The doors won’t shut and clothes are piled up on the floor. There was a time where Connor liked things to be neat and orderly. Now he doesn’t have the energy. “He wasn’t feeling great.”

She makes a concerned noise.

“He, uh, gets sick really easily. He’ll probably be fine tomorrow.” Connor curses in his head. Better jot that down so he can tell Evan that Cynthia now thinks that his immune system is shitty. Because she’s probably going to shove all sorts of vitamins and health drinks at him the next time she sees him. If there’s a next time.

God there better not be a next time.

Cynthia sighs. “I’m sorry about tonight, sweetie.”

Connor shrugs and swings his legs off the side of the bed. “It’s not like it was going to be any different than usual.”

The expression on her face is so pained that Connor has to look away. He can’t even be mad at her. He’s pissed at Zoe for her snippy comments. He’s mad at Larry because he’s always mad at Larry. He’s upset with his mom— the most he can be upset with her for is for not trying harder to stop things from getting out of hand. But when has she ever been able to stop it once it started?

Mostly Connor is just mad at himself.

The only reason Evan was here was because he gets paid twenty dollars a week. It’s not like he has any other obligation to be here. Or to hang around Connor. If there was ever a chance that Evan would actually like Connor, that just went out the fucking window.

“Are you hungry?” Cynthia asks, softly. Not as forced as usual. Not as pressing. “You didn’t eat much.”

“I’m fine,” Connor mutters. He tugs off his sweatshirt and throws it on his desk chair. He tries not to notice her eyes going to his arms and then flicking away. “I’ll grab something if I can’t sleep.”

She sighs again. She does that a lot. Sighing. “Okay. Okay, just…” She steps forward and brushes hair away from Connor’s eyes. “Apologize to Evan for us, okay?”

“Why?” Connor asks bitterly. “Because we can be better?”

Cynthia doesn’t say anything. She just stands on her toes and presses a kiss to Connor’s cheek. “Sleep well, honey.”

Connor stands in the center of his room after she leaves. He hates not having a door. It’s like his entire life is out in the open for his entire family to see and judge. Which is some bullshit.

He looks around his room, open and exposed, and thinks that he should clean. Or something. He’s living in a dump.

Connor picks up a sweatshirt and stuffs a few books onto an overflowing bookshelf. Under papers from junior year that he just needs to throw out when he gets the chance, he finds a watercolor sketchbook.

He pauses with four old plastic water bottles in arm to flip through the sketchbook. It’s old as hell, he doesn’t even remember the last time he used watercolors. Or did any art that wasn’t just shitty sketches in his notebook when he didn’t feel like paying attention.

He looks over his shoulder at the light in the hallway.

Connor isn’t entirely sure where his watercolors are. Probably somewhere under the trash and clothing covering his floor. He looks from the watercolor sketchbook to his bed.

He dumps the water bottles in the space between his wall and his bed and starts digging. It takes him almost twenty five minutes to find his watercolor palette. It’s old and dusty, the red is cracked and the purple is almost gone because he always really liked using purple for some reason, but it’s usable.

It takes him a little longer to find brushes. He’s definitely missing some, but fuck it, he never actually knew what the different brushes were for. He just used whatever ones he felt like.

He washes out an old mug that was on his desk from god knows when in the bathroom and fills it with clean water, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the hallway closet. Then he pushes the clothes on his floor into a pile against the wall so he can sit on the floor, because there is no way in hell that he’s cleaning off his desk for this. He fishes his earbuds out of his backpack and plugs them into his phone, turning on some random music that he’ll let fade to into background noise and pulls his hair up into a really messy ponytail.

Connor can’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to art. He doodles a sketch that’s kind of messy but fine enough because it’s not like anyone is going to see this and then just goes for it. He doesn’t exactly remember how to do this, but he’s never been one for doing things the right way. There’s a reason he stopped taking art classes after freshman year. There’s something weirdly calming about the way the water spreads on the page and something familiar in the brushstrokes. Even when he fucks up and uses way too much water and he knows that the paper is going to be wavy and warped.

He puts down the paintbrush to skip a song on his phone. He has another text from Evan.

From: Evan To: Connor Im sorr y YOu should nt feel that way abou tyour family

Connor rolls his eyes. Evan really does try.

From: Connor To: Evan its whatever, im used to it mom says sorry about tonight. shes embarrassed but seriously dont worry about it

He skips through the songs until he finds one that feels right, slower and almost more gentle, he really needs to pick up better watercolors because he’s going to need that purple, before putting his phone back down on the floor next to him.

All things considered, this isn’t the worst piece Connor’s ever done. He studies it as he takes a sip from his mug.

He yanks the mug away from his mouth, gagging. He rubs his mouth with a grimace.

That was paint water.

Connor doesn’t really leave his room much over the next two days. He eats because his mom wants him to, he doesn’t talk to Zoe, and he argues with Larry and wishes he had a door to slam.

Then he sits on his floor and fills pages and pages of his sketchbook with shitty watercolor paintings.

He splashes colors across the pages, sometimes not even trying to create a coherent image. He just needs something to do.

He’s almost out of purple.

Connor waits by Evan’s locker Monday morning, folding and unfolding the twenty dollar bill in his pocket. Zoe needed to be early today for some band thing, so that means Connor is early which just sucks.

This school seriously needs a color palette that isn’t drab and depressing. Connor wears almost exclusively black, but fuck, tone down the gray.

“Oh! Hey, you’re…already here.”

Connor looks up from his phone. “Zoe,” he says. “Band shit. Fuck if I know.”

Evan nods slowly and then reaches for his lock.

“Wait.” Connor grabs Evan’s wrist.

Evan freezes, wide eyes darting to Connor. “W-what?”

Connor leans a little closer. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispers. Evan furrows his eyebrows. “My family is the fucking worst, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.”

“I-it’s fine!” Evan stutters. “I don’t— no this is. This is okay.” He slowly pulls his arm out of Connor’s grip.

Connor clenches his jaw and leans against the next locker. Evan doesn’t say anything as he opens his locker and starts taking out books. An unfairly loud part of Connor’s brain wonders if Evan is only doing this because he’s scared.

It’s not that far fetched.

“B-besides,” Evan adds, “Jared is— he’s already asking too many questions and if we just stopped now—”

Connor frowns. “He is?”

Evan gives him an exasperated look. “He hasn’t texted me about non homework things in forever and he’s just been sending me ‘is it a sex thing’ for a week.”

“Wow I hate him,” Connor says before he can stop himself.

Evan laughs in surprise.

“He’s a douche!”

Evan ducks his head. “He’s not the worst person ever, b-but he can be…himself.”

“And that’s pretty bad,” Connor mutters.

Evan pauses and then closes his locker. “Do— are you still okay with…with telling him?”

Connor shrugs. “Sounds like we have no choice.”

Evan tugs on the hem of his shirt. “Are you…free today?”

“I literally have no life or friends, Hansen,” Connor reminds him. “I’m always free.”

“Okay, right, okay.” Evan takes a short breath. “Can we— today?”

Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets. He hasn’t gotten harassed by Kleinman about this yet, but if they wait, the chances of that happening increase significantly. And if it’ll get Jared off Evan’s back— “Yeah sure. Where?”

“My place?” Evan asks. Connor pulls open the door to the stairwell. “I-if that works?”

“Sure thing.” Connor’s voice echoes uncomfortably loud for this conversation. “Better than being at home anyway.”

Evan glances back over his shoulder at Connor. “Are things…bad?” He says it slowly, like he’s not sure what word to choose.

“They’ve been worse,” Connor admits. “But it’s not a party.”

Evan stops at the stairs where Connor has to keep going down to get to chorus. “I’ll— I’ll text you? About the time?”

Connor nods. “Sounds good, Hansen. See you then.” He steps forward and hands Evan the twenty that has been floating around in his pocket for too long. “Forgot to pay you back for food last week,” he says when Evan’s eyes dart toward people walking past.

Evan gives him a half smile and takes the bill. “I-I told you it was fine. I can pay sometimes.”

Connor shrugs and turns toward the stairs. “Too late.”

—«·»—

From: Evan To: Connor Im s o s rry just ignore him or block him he grabbed my phon e Serious ly blockign him mihgt be the best opti n

From: Connor To: Evan ??????

Connor probably shouldn’t be texting in class, but the class is astronomy and also when has Connor ever given a fuck. He stares at Evan’s messages, trying to decode them while he waits for the lunch bell.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait that long to figure out what they mean.

From: (522) 101-5414 To: nerd, emo sup fuckers

Connor doesn’t even have to ask who it is, he just tries not to groan and texts Evan.

From: Connor To: Evan seriously??

From: Evan To: Connor Im sorry !!! Hes being a d ick Also does like 3 work?

Connor huffs and glances to the clock. That’ll give him about an hour to kill after school before he can show up at Evan’s. Whatever, he’ll figure something out.

From: Connor To: Evan thats fine tell kleinman if hes being a dick i will hurt him

Evan’s response is almost immediate.

From: Evan To: Connor I wouldnt blame you but ma y be dotn hurt the one pe rson whos gonna knw about us

Connor snorts and puts away his phone. He’ll do his best, but only because Evan asked.

—«·»—

Connor texts Evan as he walks up to the house. The door is open before he can even knock. Evan looks slightly panicked, but also somewhat relieved. Connor lowers his hand from where he was about to knock.

“He here?”

Evan nods and grabs Connor’s sleeve, tugging him inside.

Connor takes off his boots while Evan rambles on about Jared being in his room and talking about something, summer camp? Maybe? And then there’s a tangent about cars? Connor isn’t sure but he puts down his boots, straightens, and puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he interrupts. “You’re going to pass out and you really don’t want to leave Kleinman and I alone together.”

Evan takes a slow breath. “Right. Right. He’s… Come on.”

He shows Connor up the stairs, gesturing vaguely to a bathroom as he moves toward his room. Connor didn’t really notice how small Evan’s house is the last time he was here, but now he feels too large in it, like he’s taking up too much space. But it’s also comforting in a weird way, less empty space for thoughts to echo.

Jared spins around in Evan’s desk chair when Evan opens the door. “Man of the hour!” Jared announces, opening his arms in Connor’s direction.

Connor flips him off.

“Okay, rude. I can work with rude.”

“Jared,” Evan says warningly.

“I know, I know.” Jared spins back and forth a little in the chair. For some reason, Connor thinks giving him a chair that turns may have been a bad idea. “If I’m an ass you won’t give me pizza.”

Connor scoffs. “You bribed him?”

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I just— can we not talk about this?”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. “I was promised juicy deets on whatever the fuck this is.” He motions between Connor and Evan. “Cause uh,” he laughs, “guys, what the shit?”

“We aren’t friends,” Connor says flatly.

Evan twists the hem of his shirt in his hands.

“Yeah no shit, Sherlock.” Jared grabs the arms of the chair and leans forward. “Wait this is a sex thing, isn’t it! Evan you said—”

“It’s not a sex thing!” Evan shouts. “It’s a—” He looks to Connor with wide eyes. “A…fake friend…thing?”

“Excuse me?”

Connor explains before Evan can flounder any more. “I give Evan twenty bucks a week to pretend to be my friend.”

Jared stares at them.

Evan shifts uncomfortably next to Connor. Connor kind of wants to leave, but Evan wants to do this, so…

Jared snorts. “Are you fucking serious?”

Evan cringes. “Y-yes?”

“This is—”

“We know, Kleinman,” Connor snaps. “But we need your help.”

Evan looks at Connor in surprise. ‘We do?’ he mouths to Connor. Connor nods. Spur of the moment thought, but he literally can’t keep dealing with Zoe bugging him about Evan. Who gives a shit if they never hung out together around school, even if that is a lie. He needs some sort of proof so she shuts up.

Jared spins slowly in his chair. “How so?”

“Evan said we emailed each other,” Connor says. “But my dad checks my email. So this email account would have to be ‘secret’.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “That’s—”

“We know, Jared!” Evan interrupts. “C-can you just—” He glances toward Connor. “We need…emails from over the summer?” Connor nods. “Can you just, like, show me how to fake the timestamps o-or something?”

“Oh yeah, that’s super easy,” Jared says. He leans down and unzips the backpack leaning against the desk and pulls out a laptop. He opens the laptop and types something out. “Secret email account is very—”

Connor grits his teeth. “Just do it, Kleinman.”

“Yeah, yeah. Watch the monkey dance,” Jared mutters to himself. “That’s super fun.” He pauses. “If Evan gets twenty bucks a week for this, what do I get?”

“The gift of life.”

Evan shoots Connor a look.

“Awesome.” Jared types for another moment. “You know,” he says, “twenty bucks seems pretty cheap.”

“Are you trying to be difficult?” Connor grumbles.

“Always.”

“I-it’s fine,” Evan stutters. “Re-really, Jared?”

“I’m just saying,” Jared says with a shrug. “You should totally charge more for more complicated stuff. Twenty for faking friendship, forty for hanging out, sixty for being around the family.”

“What?!”

Connor glances to Evan out of the corner of his eye. Evan is protesting, but it’s not the worst idea. Especially after the dinner that Evan suffered through. Connor is going to have to ‘borrow’ more money from his parents’ wallets, but hey, at least it’s not for weed.

“I really fucking hate that I’m saying this,” Jared and Evan look over to Connor, “but that’s not a terrible plan.”

Jared smirks. “Nice.”

Evan gapes. “W-what?”

“If you spend a few hours dealing with my shitty family, that probably is worth more than saying hi to me in the hallway.” Connor crosses his arms. “I should probably pay you more when you have to deal with more bullshit.”

“N-no, that isn’t— you don’t have to—”

“Let him give you money, Evan.” Jared types rapidly on his laptop. “I’m making you two up a fucking price chart for reference.”

“Jared—”

“One condition,” Connor says. “If we’re doing this it’s only ten dollars a week, if that’s okay,” he directs the last part to Evan. “I’m not a goddamn millionaire.”

“Annoying but valid,” Jared says. “The weekly flat rate is ten dollars then, nonnegotiable.”

Evan sinks down into the other chair that someone had pulled up to the desk.

“I think the first step up is hanging out outside of school.” Jared glances to Connor.

Connor nods. “Three for outside, five for my house.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Evan asks weakly.

“Nope,” Jared says, popping the ‘p’. “If hanging out involves the fam, I say it’s an instant five more.”

“How about two added on to the location fee,” Connor argues.

Jared scoffs. “That’s three dollars, man.”

“Try to remember we’re high schoolers,” Connor says flatly.

Evan wimpers.

Jared pats Evan’s arm. “Okay. Extended family is another three. No arguing that one, extended family is bullshit. Twenty bucks flat for a sleepover. Like on top of the weekly ten.”

Evan’s eyes go wide. “What?! No!”

Jared looks to Connor.

Connor shrugs. “Fine.” He doesn’t think that will be relevant but whatever. If it gets written down it’s not the end of the world.

Jared smiles to himself and starts to type quickly.

“W-what are you doing?” Evan asks, leaning closer to try and get a look at the screen.

Jared elbows Evan away. “Shh I’m working.”

Connor raises his eyebrows.

“Aaaaaand…done.” Jared spins his laptop to show Connor.

Connor squints at the list Jared has made on the document.

This is the Worst Plan I’ve Ever Heard But Have Fun You Friendless Losers created by Jared Kleinman

$10 — weekly flat rate no matter what

—

Casual Shit:

$3 — hanging out outside of school $5 — hanging out at the Murphys’ (+$2 to location fee if it involves other Murphys) (+$3 more if it involves any extended family) $20 — sleepover

—

Romance Shit:

$25 — date $5 — hug $15 — kiss $200 — Full Boyfriend Package™

(FFBP™ decreases all things in this section by $10, except for dates, which drop to $20. No, you do not get paid for hugs, hugs are just free now. Congrats, you just paid two hundred fucking dollars for a free hug)

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking hilarious,” he deadpans.

Evan pales as he reads it once Jared has turned the screen toward him. “Uh…”

Jared snorts. “It’s called a joke, dude. Learn to take it.”

“J-just delete it,” Evan stammers. “That’s not— we were supposed to make emails.”

“Okay.” Jared highlights the romance section and deletes it. “It’s gone.”

Evan sighs. “Thank you.”

Jared does a keyboard shortcut. “And it’s back!”

“Jared!”

“Gone! And back!”

Evan’s ears turn pink. “S-seriously?”

Jared just wiggles his eyebrows and deletes it again. When he starts to hit undo, Connor leans forward and grabs the laptop out of his hands.

“Dude!”

“We aren’t fucking five,” Connor says. “Can you help us with these emails before my sister tries to call a fucking private detective on me or are you just going to be a dickhead?”

“That’s no way to talk to someone who’s helping you out,” Jared says. But he holds out his hand for the laptop, and when Connor gives it back, he spins around, puts the laptop on the desk, and opens a new tab.

Him and Connor set up a new email account and then Jared has Evan open up his own email. As Jared sets up faked emails that Evan and Connor will fill with mindless shit, Connor looks around Evan’s room.

There’s a window with two small succulents sitting on its windowsill. There are pictures scattered around the room in mismatched frames, a lot of Evan and a woman he assumes is his mother, more than a few of Evan and Jared when they were younger but less and less as they get older until there’s none, and one small picture of Evan with a man that looks vaguely like him that sits on the corner of Evan’s desk, a stack of books obscuring it slightly.

Connor remembers Evan saying something about his dad and looks away.

Evan’s room is much smaller than Connor’s. It’s cozier and cleaner, but still untidy. The books in Evan’s shelves are piled up and tipping over, there are a few sweatshirts draped around the room, and there’s a terrifying looking pile of papers on his nightstand.

“Yo,” Jared says, holding out his laptop to Connor. “Work out what you want these to say with Evan so I can finish this. While you do that I’m going to find some snacks.”

“We’re out,” Evan answers almost immediately from where he’s bent over his laptop.

“I’m going out to buy snacks,” Jared corrects. “See you in a bit, losers.”

Connor stares at the blank form that Jared has pulled up on the screen. How many of these things is he going to have to do and is this going to turn into a school assignment?

“It’s probably easier if one of us starts,” Evan murmurs. “And then we just go back and forth and respond to whatever the other says.”

“Like actual emails.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just faster.”

“Sure. Let’s keep the things that can mark when this shit got sent to a minimum, okay?” Connor’s summer is a blur. He spent probably too much of it high and another big majority of it just doing nothing. Looking back at it, it all just blends together into a mess of shitty and shittier.

Evan nods. “Mhm. I’ll start if you want.”

“Go wild.”

As Evan types, Connor clicks through the other tabs Jared has open. One for the email account, a few google searches, a coding thing Connor doesn’t understand, and the price list. Jared put the romance section back.

Connor makes a note on the document that just says ‘youre a dick’ and clicks back to the dauntingly blank form.

An hour later, Evan has finished his sixth email, Connor is typing out a shitty response, and Jared has shown up with enough chips to feed a small nation. They figure out how to space the emails they’ve already written and Jared gets to work on finishing up the ones they’ve got written.

“Should we do the whole summer?” Evan asks.

Connor shrugs. “I don’t care, Zoe will probably buy it with one or two.”

Jared spins back and forth as he adds all the timestamps. “Someone order a pizza, I’m dying.”

Evan checks the time. “Jared it’s only—”

“Yeah? And?”

“You just ate like an entire bag of chips.”

Jared looks up at Evan. “When has that ever stopped me from eating an entire pizza?”

Evan shakes his head. “W-whatever. The usual?”

Jared shoots him a finger gun as he types with one hand.

“I’ll go with,” Connor says. He follows Evan down to the kitchen to see another twenty dollar bill in the center of the table. “Want me to call it in?” he asks.

Evan nods. “Jared always gets a supreme. If he doesn’t finish he just brings it home.”

Fair, Connor would do the same if he cared more about eating. He can only handle so much of his mom’s cooking. Connor places the call and then waits with Evan at the table. “Does your mom have you get takeout a lot?” he asks, looking at the bill.

Evan follows his gaze. “Uh… I-I mean…yeah. She works all day at the hospital, she’s a nurse, a-and then takes night classes at the college,” he gestures vaguely toward the street and Connor assumes he means the community college that people who are ambitious like Alana Beck go to to take summer classes so they look more impressive to admissions, “so…she doesn’t really have ti-time to cook and I’m— I’m not very good at it,” Evan mumbles. “I can do…ramen? Um…mac n cheese. Instant stuff. Other than that I can make like…pasta and grilled cheese and that’s…sort of it. But she doesn’t have a lot of time to go to the grocery store and I, uh, don’t like going so. Takeout is…easier.”

Connor nods. “I get that. You can’t go wrong with ramen noodles. One day we’ll both be living off them,” he jokes.

Evan looks to him in surprise. He smiles a little. “Y-yeah, I guess that’s true.”

Connor suddenly realizes that he talked about the future casually. About college casually, because he can remember one time when he was little and sick and Larry made ramen noodles for him and Connor had decided that they were the best thing ever and Larry had ruffled his hair and said that he’d get sick of them when they were all he ate in college. It’s uncomfortable. It settles wrong inside him. Because outside of the context of that one quip, the future doesn’t feel real. It feels like some untouchable abstract concept.

Thinking about it makes his stomach turn and makes dark thoughts creep in from the corners of his mind.

He shakes them away and listens to Evan talk about how he’s ruined soup before. It’s better than thinking about a future that hardly exists, one that he’s ready to cut the string on at almost any given moment in time.

Evan buries his face in his hands as he tells Connor about the time Jared tried to make eggs in the microwave and almost set fire to the house. Connor laughs and pretends he’s okay.

When the pizza arrives, Connor pays the delivery person while Evan goes and gets Jared. It’s too early for dinner, but Jared doesn’t care and eats two slices before going upstairs to grab his laptop and then eats another. Evan eats breadsticks and lets Jared carry most of the conversation, about half of which is about how weird Connor eats his pizza.

Evan makes Connor take a slice of pizza back, because he ends up missing dinner at home, and Connor just rolls his eyes and takes the plastic tupperware and promises to give it back at some point. Evan shakes his head and tells him not to, because they have too much and they can never find lids that match. Connor figures he’ll just slip it back into a cabinet the next time he comes over.

Next time. Connor doesn’t think in next times. Weird.

#connor murphy #evan hansen #jared kleinman #deh #deh fanfic #my fics #to have a friend #welcome to Hell

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neakco · 4 years ago

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Vixen & Crow Ch. 13

Ao3 First Prev Next V&C Masterlist

Where things take a dark turn for our heroes and it causes a fight, will their friendship survive?

Possible triggers in this chapter: Mild Blood. Accusing someone of rape, neglect, and murder. Hints of suicide.

If this effects you then please skip this chapter for your own health.

Tuesday rolled around and people were still trying to seduce invitations to the Waterfield Party out of Sebastian.

Amelia jumped in surprise when Sebastian finally snapped at them.

“I didn’t even get a say for the hostess! If you really want an invite than go flirt with my father’s assistant. Her number is on the website!” He joined Amelia at her table and began to focus on his lunch, regretting that they hadn’t made it to their table.

“Should I call Vanessa and warn her about the wannabe vultures.” Amelia asked.

“No, it was her idea for me to act angry in the first place.”

“Your father is extremely lucky to have her.” Amelia smiled, “Should I call after the wannabe vultures and warn them about Vanessa?”

Sebastian choked on his sandwich slightly. “Please do not deprive me of this small entertainment. Vanessa promised to record the conversations for me.”

She grinned, “Fine, but you are sharing the best recordings with me.”

Wednesday’s patrol had them exploring the slums When Vixen picked up a scent.

“It is fairly weak. I think it goes down this ally.” She pointed from their position on the roofs.

“Past the mugging?”

“Yes, past the....” Vixen cut herself off as Crow jumped down. “You could at least give a fox a warning.”

Crow kicked the knife away out of the mugger’s hands and landed, “That looks a little too much for you. Maybe try the rubber variety.”

The mugger went in for a punch, “Son of a...”

Vixen blocked the attack easily. “Seeing as how he is a crow; I find that highly unlikely.”

“Bitch!” We went in for another attack but crumpled as Crow kicked him in the side.

“She is a very vexing vixen, so I sadly cannot argue that one.”

“Really?” Vixen grabbed a discarded towel from the trash bins and began to cut it into strips with her claws in order to bind the mugger.

“Vixens are still female dogs of a sort.” Crow was helping the victim slowly stand back up. “Are you okay sir?”

“I, I think so.” The man was still quite shaken.

Vixen smiled kindly, “Come on sir, we will escort you to the main road and the police can meet us there.” She looked at her partner, “Crow?”

“Got it.” Crow picked the mugger onto his shoulders while Vixen grabbed the knife and helped the victim walk.

Coming up on the towards the main road Vixen smiled kindly again, “Police will meet you here Sir.” She then handed him the knife which she had wrapped in a discarded grocery bag, “They will want the knife for evidence.”

Crow dropped the bound mugger on the ground when they heard approaching sirens, “Stay safe sir.”

Crow and Vixen returned to the rooftops and continued to follow the scent.

“How did you call the police? You jumped in right after me.”

“Nathanial knows how to use a phone.” She smiled and gestured to the right, “Smell gets stronger this way.”

The scent led them to a rundown shack. Vixen circled around it a couple of times, “This is it.”

“What’s the plan?” Crow yawned.

Vixen yawned in reply, “There only seems to be one entrance.”

“Or you could both stop being silly and go home.” Gem clipped them with her wings as she flew past them quickly.”

“But?” Both Vixen and Crow protested.

“No!” Nathanial materialized next to Vixen. “It is 2 am and you need to function as civilians. The spirit is still weak. It will be here tomorrow.”

Vixen and Crow smiled tiredly and chanted, “Yes mother.” before heading in the direction of their beds.

Sebastian was reading the paper while waiting on Amelia before class when an article made him smile. It was talking about the dangers of vigilante justice and how dressing as a white or black animal themed hero does not protect you from bullets or the law.

Seeing Amelia he shoved the paper at her pointing towards the article. “What do you think?” I think it is pretty awesome if someone is actually willing to make a difference.”

Sebastian noticed an almost fond smile on her face as she read. “If someone wants to get themselves killed for something society will never remember them for than that is their choice.”

The words were harsh but her tone was almost fond. Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about. “I wonder if these vigilantes are going to read this and what they will think.”

“How to know without asking them. The paper doesn’t even describe them properly.” Amelia shrugged.

Sebastian would ask Vixen when he saw her tonight.

“Good Evening Beanna Bàn.” Vixen smiled up at Crow.

“Evening Vexing Vixen. Did you see the paper this morning?”

She Starts to laugh, “The article about us? Yes. But what were we supposed to do, stand by and watch a man get killed for his wallet?” We would be no better than villains then.”

“I was hoping you felt that way.” Crow offered down an arm to pull her onto is light post. “Shall we go rescue a struggling soul?”

Vixen used his arm to start off her run, “Keep up Beanna Bàn.”

He caught up with her about a block away from the shack, “You sure the spirit is here? This place doesn’t look very lived in.”

“Yes, the scent lights the place up like a beacon.” She shuddered a bit. “It gives it an eerie glow through my eyes.”

“Front door?” Vixen nodded affirmative and he went to open it. “Guess I will go first than.”

Vixen quickly shoved Crow to the side and teleported herself away as a knife slashed the air where they had been.

The man was thrown off balance but continued his silent assault.

“It is quite dark in here; you could really do with some life.” Crow tried to focus on a weak point as he dodged and taunted.

Vixen stayed just behind him to drag him out of harm's way if he needed it.

“You would think you were preparing for a funeral. Open up your windows, get some plants. It will be a whole new shack.” He went to dodge again and the knife barely missed him instead slicing into his cape.

Pain shot through his whole system and Vixen had to throw him away from the fight as he froze.

“This body is mine now! I’m not giving it back!” The spirit within the man yelled.

“Sorry.” Crow muttered as Vixen started to circle the man like prey.

Her smile was crueler than Crow had ever seen before. “My turn now.” She quickly poked him and teleported out of knife range. “Did your wife leave you, lose your job? Did your kid die? Was your sister raped? Was your pet eaten? Brother mugged?”

Crow was shocked at the harsh words and tone coming from Vixen but had to admit she had gotten a reaction. “He didn’t like the comment on death.”

She move in closer while still dodging. “Ah, you killed someone. Was it greed, lust, neglect?”

“Neglect!” Crow spotted the weakness growing in the man’s heart.

“So your own needs were too important! You just couldn’t be bothered to care that someone relying on you was suffering!” Vixen’s voice was filled with venom.

The knife clattered to the ground as the man fell to his knees weeping. “I was studying to be a lawyer. Our parents are dead. All we had was each other. I wanted to get us out of here. It was my final year. I didn’t know she was suffering. I didn’t know.”

Vixen crouched down next to the man, her tone was softer and gentle now, “It isn’t your fault. You were working hard for her and she knew this. She kept her problems hidden so as not to bother you. You may never know why things happened like they did, but know it isn’t your fault.” She nodded to Crow as she stood back up. “You need to continue living. If not for yourself, than do it for her.”

Crow knocked the spirit from the man with a well aimed strike at his heart and sent it into Vixen’s waiting jar.

The man looked up, “I, I am sorry. I will try to live. Thank you.”

Crow and Vixen left quietly with the trapped spirit.

Vixen’s face crestfallen, “Can we get out of the slums first. Please.” Her ears and tailed drooped.

“I think I spotted a park to the west of here. He can summon the portal there.”

Even after sending it back they remained silent on the return trip to their home park.

Crow’s thoughts burst once landing though, “Why? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

“He hurt you and you weren’t getting through with light hearted taunts!” Vixen’s tail began to whip back and forth.

“You accused him of murder, of rape!” Crow winced slightly at his own tone. He blamed the pain he was feeling from his cape...wings? Capes should not hurt when torn.

Vixen slowly approached Crow and jabbed her claw in his direction without touching him. Tears glistened in her eyes; her smile seemed forced, an anger flowed off her in waves. “Because that is life in the slums! Some places are worse. You are lucky to be so ignorant!” Then, so quietly that Crow barely heard her she added, “I was lucky to have escaped.” Her eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth and she quickly took off running.

“Dammit Vixen.” Crow took off after her, the pain from his cape slowing him down slightly, “I am sorry. You are right, I am ignorant, I didn’t know.”

The chase went on for several minutes of him trying to apologize before she suddenly stopped, “Why do I smell blood?”

Crow didn’t dare glance at his ripped wing, if he did, he would wonder how the cape was bleeding. “I am sorry Vixen. I was lucky, but I was also incredibly lonely. So much that I didn’t even know it until around when I met you. I would like to think that after a month of night time escapades we are friends.”

Vixen was examining the red stained cape and trying to gently hold the pieces together. “Please sit. We are friends. I’m sorry too, I spoke harshly. I have some unpleasant memories that being in the shack reminded me of.”

Crow patted her back in a half hug since she was at the wrong angle for a full one. The he spotted Gem watching them, “Why didn’t you tell me the cape was part of me? I would have been even more careful.”

Gem looked as guilty as a crow could, “I didn’t know.”

Seeing that she wasn’t going to say more, Nathanial continued, “We have never had anyone embrace the transformation with their whole selves as you two do. In the past the cape has always been just a cape.”

Vixen took her tail in hand and stabbed it with one of her claws, “Ouch.” She then did the same to what she considered felt ears only to come back with a bit of blood on her claw. “You mentioned to me before that injuries we receive in costume should heal faster?”

Nathanial nodded but it was Gem that answered, “A wing puncture on a normal crow would take close to 7 days to heal, with the magic I would say three to four days for you fledgling.”

Vixen smiled and helped Crow stand before kneeling with her back to him, “Is there a park I can take you to that is closer to your home?”

“If we head North from here towards the richer part of town there is one.” He hated needing help, “I can probably make it.

Vixen looked at him over her shoulder, “No. You wouldn’t be in such bad shape if you weren’t chasing after me. Let me take some responsibility and help you.”

He climbed reluctantly onto her back, “You are a great friend Vixen. Thank you.”

She grinned, “Hold on.” She began to run on all fours. “Don’t you dare patrol tomorrow. We can meet up Sunday instead.” Vixen teleported them across a gap that was too far to jump. “No more flying for a bit.”

“But I need to fly a little to get back into my house.” he knew he was whining but didn’t care too much. “It is bad enough my tiny fox of a partner is giving me a fox back ride, let me have a little dignity.”

“Beanna Bàn, you are a crow riding on a fox’s back. I think it is my dignity that is lost.” She willed the smile into her voice, “If you are still injured Sunday let me know and we can postpone patrol until Monday or Tuesday.”

“The park is just on your right. I will be careful; I promise to get the cut disinfected and bandaged once I am home."

Vixen slowly let Crow off her back before taking off with a wave. “I will hold you to that promise Beanna Bàn.”

Crow climbed up a tree and winced as he prepared to take off. “Gem, Vixen doesn’t have much energy left, does she?”

Gem landed next to him, “What gave her away?”

“She enjoys teleporting too much to just run away on all fours.”

“Honestly, she is probably still feeling the effects of last week. Red also tells me that she is trying to conserve her energy a little bit more, just in case.” She flapped almost lazily towards his house, “Come on fledgling, let’s patch you up.”

So much research into avian injuries went into this. For the psychology research I only had to borrow a friend's text book. For this I needed access to a university library in order to access the medical research papers. So that was fun.

#rin writes #original work #original writing #vixen & crow #paranormal superheroes #paranormal #superhero

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starrsquad-blog · 8 years ago

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General points about Calerihysene ( Caleb/Valerius/Rhys/Florence ).

✦ Florence is definitely the most dominated one of the relationship, while Rhys is the most submissive ( of course ). Though, with consent, it's more of a chain of who's dominated by another — Rhys gets dominated the most by Caleb, Caleb by Valerius, and Valerius by Florence, even though she claims all of her boys because she's the Boss Ass Bitch™, so stay fucking down, motherfuckers.

✦ Valerius usually helps cook along with Florence, and volunteers to do the dishes, much to her gratitude, and just help with literally anything domestic related because he's a very domestic guy, to be honest.

✦ Caleb would do the same, but anxiety and depression’s a bitch, so he's been slacking a lot, and Rhys would usually… gently… push him around and get fit and strong, and mmmmm…. Would he be getting those nice rewards if he does as he's told for the sake of his health.

✦ Rhys?? He fucking destroys everything.......

✦ There are times when Florence and Valerius, unfortunately, have their moment together through arguments and disagreements, which both Caleb and Rhys really doesn't like, but according to the zodiac signs, Capricorn and Gemini usually doesn't go well together, despite Valerius being part Aquarius, as well. But as always, Florence and Valerius cools down the heat in the end. Caleb and Rhys is trying to figure out how they could come in agreements, but they are relieved that they would take them maturely and calmly, at least most of the times when they do argue.

✦ Don't mess with these guys, especially Rhys and Caleb, or else, either of Florence or Valerius would literally raise Hell upon you, but heck, them together would be a complete chaos, and you seriously don't want that.

✦ Valerius is lowkey awkward around Florence, tbh,,

✦ Valerius and Florence together would be one of the most chilliest and simple pairings, like, their first date would probably be somewhere at a lovely lake during the evening and have a picnic while they would watch the sunset together.

✦ While there are times Florence has difficulties expressing them, she does truly care about her boys and adores them very much, even if she sometimes wants to throw them to the volcanoes for being overly embarrassing and ridiculous, her life has been too serious and dark, until she met them and immediately made her life less dull and lonely.

✦ Valerius is that guy who always be the first to pay their food orders and shit because he is such a wonderful man, but sometimes that makes Caleb and Rhys lowkey salty,, like,,, fucking chill, we get that you're like the dad of the relationship, but we don't ever remember you signing up to be our sugar daddy, and Florence can still sense the salt coming from them before she softly signs and is somewhat amused.

✦ As Caleb doesn't ever like to sleep by himself, he has a personal schedule of who he sleeps with. Monday and Tuesday, he sleeps with Valerius, Wednesday and Thursday, with Rhys, Friday and Saturday, with Florence, and Sunday is usually when he sleeps with all of them together.

✦ Just Rhys himself is Florence’s biggest soft spots, along with canine-like creatures, because of how shyly adorable he actually is? There are times when he's way out of his control that would make her shake her head at him and facepalm herself, but in the end, there's something different about him, she couldn't ever figure it out, that makes her heart skip a beat and feel more protective of him. You can say it's because Rhys is known to be the “punching bag” of the relationship and gets poked and teased on frequently by Caleb and Valerius, much to her concern and fear of Rhys’ self esteem changing negatively from them.

✦ Just imagine Rhys, Valerius and Caleb have an intense tickle fight at night that led them being a giant, complete mess of exhaustion and Florence comes home from hanging out with few of their friends and sees her boys sleeping together, and they're all lightly snoring, with Rhys on top of most parts of Caleb and Valerius while their legs are tangled together and?? The sight is so pure, and Florence have take a photo of it so she can cherish it forever.

✦ While Caleb’s loyalty is questionable, he's mainly loyal towards those who he's truly personally close to, besides Tobias and Alfred, Valerius, Rhys and Florence is obvious. But... he's probably never going to love anyone else and treat them with his special kindness as much as who's mentioned as equal?? As he may develop many crushes, even be in a love relationship with someone else, he will always end up falling himself back to Valerius, Rhys and Florence as he can never ever let go of them and move on in his life. Especially Rhys, considering he's a mortal with no powers and the chance of him being killed first out of the four are sadly quite high. He would never wish for any of his four lovers to be gone out of his life, and if anyone, he would choose them to be with more than anyone else who he knows and loves, even his own family, he would honestly rather be with them than his family.

✦ Rhys feels depressed and extremely bitter time to time at the thought of him being a mortal while the rest lives on forever, but when Valerius comes up to him, one day, he told him that he wouldn't live as much in the end because he's a star, and every stars dies too, and Caleb doesn't know, really, remember, this fact, before telling Rhys that once he does die, they can both spend the rest of their afterlife, watching the stars, along with following behind Caleb and Florence, together and forever, until they're somehow given another chance to live again, and it made Rhys tears up really badly and eventually, Valerius does the same, because they're just, they're both so broken and distressed that they won't live forever, but as long as they have each other at least, they can be happy, and Rhys wouldn't ever mind waiting for a long time for Valerius to be in the afterlife for him, he would do anything for him because he loves him so much.

✦ So that's why Rhys is extremely clingy towards the guys, just desperate to be with them. But at the same time, he's conflicted to express it when he believes that would drive them away from him in annoyance and discomfort, and he doesn't want to die, knowing that he was born to die alone and his fear becomes true all in the end. Florence, Val and Caleb's heart breaks when they see him slowly breaking down over him being a Mortal and when he's sad, it's like a switch no one else can ever find for themselves and take control over it but Rhys, everyone else gets sad because even for an anxious, little soul, he's trying his absolute to remain optimism and battles against his fears and anxiety for so long, and this fact of him not being able to live in the end, it completely shatters him and becomes hopeless, because no matter what he does or say to them, especially to make them feel proud of him, he's not going to stay with them for long, and even if he would eventually have Valerius... Simple to say. some things would never feel the same.

✦ He was pulled into a big hug from the three, all at once, he's choking back in tears while he had their shirts badly stained with them and his snots. He's trying so hard not to cry, but they encourages him to as they says it's healthy to cry and he shouldn't ever bottles up his emotions, leading to Rhys tightly gripping on to him and starts sobbing loudly, through unpleasant coughs and shaky voice, he cries over how much he wants to be with them before he would be gone, but he's too afraid he would be considered as a clingy, little baby and be pushed away from them.

✦ It's an important fact to know that Rhys, in the past before he meets Caleb and Valerius for the first time, feels often alone, even if he have his friends and family to spend times with, he couldn't somehow get this genuine feeling of happiness and comfort around them, unlike Caleb and Valerius who have clearly shown how much they love him through so many ways, even how many times they would risk themselves to save his life, it's unbelievable. Though he's apart of their relationship along with Florence now, he still somewhat feels isolated from others, not as severe as before, but regardless, this heavy weight in his heart reminds him that it's possible for him to be abandoned.

✦ Starting after when he told the three, mainly Florence and Caleb, since Val knew about it at that night, Rhys always gets reminded by the three that he can spend times with them as much as he want and promises him they won't ever be annoyed at his precense, and every time he goes up to one, two or all of them, he's always greeted with showers of compliments and kisses, few times a little series of tickle on his sides, and it always hits him because... he never feels so loved in his entire life and?? He does try to hide his tears though, but them knowing him, they only gently says to him that it's okay, and eventually, he did with a big, most genuine smile on his face.

✦ Even with the angst, their relationship is actually super duper positive and full of love and support and?? I fucking love it so damn much??

#notes #Caleb #Valerius #Rhys #Florence #Calerihysene #again I love my dear children so much

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