#she nitpicks at everything i try to do and i’m tired of trying to prove that i’m not an idiot

[anachronistic-falsehood]

can someone just grab me by the shoulders look me dead in the eye and say “hey you’re doing good. you’re doing your best and that’s all anyone can ask of you. some people just don’t see that and that’s on them not you” CAN SOMEONE JUST DO THAT.

[valkyriegoddesses]

Thoughts on ACOSF

⚠️ SPOILERY, SO DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK ⚠️

⚔️ the good and the bad, I’ll try to get rid of the bad thoughts first and keep the positive ones for the end but idk where my line of thought would go as I recall and type so here we go

• Nesta’s journey of healing is hers and hers alone. She owes no one in the inner circle anything, they didn’t do her any favors. (Now before I delve into this, I just want to say that I see they (Feyre and Elain only) had good intentions, but I’m going to point out everywhere it went wrong, probably against what they planned, but still it went horribly wrong) She was still suffering all the same after she got her free will stripped from her, the decision made for her by packing her things without informing her or listening to her opinion or trying to have a more lenient approach to the matter, being threatened that her second option is being thrown to the human lands where she could die, being lied to about the consequences of her actions in law, being told she “belongs in the Hewn City”, being told she’s “a pathetic waste of life”, and choosing the place everyone admits they hate going to aka the House of Wind, as her destination to heal. Knowing full well she can’t make the descent down these stairs and would be imprisoned without the power to winnow. And instead of being given her space and time, they push her to talk and interact when all she’s trying to do is have some distance from everyone. Some time to herself, to not feel anything, to control the storm of thoughts raging on the inside. And she’s pushed time and time again to face her trauma and heal RIGHT NOW because apparently, they’re timing her. And she shouldn’t have her emotions on display, when she tells them she doesn’t feel like talking yet she’s forced to interact and socialize. Anyone who’s been forced to interact against their will knows how draining it is. Now imagine this coupled with being triggered by water, and being triggered by fire, which are a daily necessity. And imagine everyone got a decade or more to deal with their trauma and are still not entirely healed, yet your time is up after little over a year. It sucks. And I hate how what triggered them to action wasn’t that she was wasting away to nothing, but the bill. When the bill was high, they drew the line. And I hate how in the narrative, the “conversation” -even though I wouldn’t call it that because only one side was allowed to talk and the other side wasn’t allowed to object- was written in a way that made it about THEIR image, when she’s frequenting taverns. THEIR image, when she doesn’t show up to their parties. THEIR image when the bill for her drinking is high. (They say it’s too much money, as if they don’t have all the riches and they all spend money on things that are absolutely not necessary, and THEY drowned her with gifts, LOADS of gifts, after she sacrificed her power to save her sister, which she didn’t do for payment, but anyway the thought is, they had the money and just like they thought Amren deserves payment for what she did in the war, they should’ve kept the same energy for Nesta because she had no small role in that either). I just think they handled it badly. Not exactly how you’d talk to someone suffering from PTSD, depression and survivor’s guilt. For one, threatening a worse alternative isn’t helpful. Secondly, There were way too many people in that room. More than necessary. Feyre and Elain would’ve been enough AS HER FAMILY (and I’ll get to details on this in a moment). And Feyre was the only decent one handling it as someone who actually was looking for a better outcome and really had the intention to help, someone who wasn’t there just to humiliate. Amren and Rhys were only there to land jabs and poke at her insecurities and bad coping mechanisms. Rhys used his power on her to force her to obey him and we all know how it’s a big NO among them. Many of those in the IC had worse coping mechanisms. But what she was doing was too much for them to handle? She was self-destructing. And she kept her distance. If I told someone I needed my space and they kept poking their head in my business, I sure as hell would lash out. When someone needs space, their privacy should be respected. No matter how long it takes them.

And I don’t see where the problem with her drinking was. She never showed up to events drunk. We never saw her hungover the day after. She was spending some money on drinking yes, but it did not get out of hand. She was also spending money on food and gambling. All in all, not the worst coping mechanism among those who were criticizing her. Not to mention that everyone who criticized her were drinkers as well, and they all slept around during some part of their lives.

Now the problem with the presence of other people in that room, other than Feyre (if Elain didn’t wish to attend and preferred to have some space between her and and Nesta, it’s her choice) anyway, only Feyre’s presence was required. Everyone else there was just an accessory, only adding stress to the atmosphere, forcing Nesta to get on the defensive with the way they slut shamed her, shamed her for drinking, shamed her for not being able to take a bath even though she told Feyre how the water still scares her, etc. I can see Sarah wanted it to look like a “family” intervening. Like some tough love sort of thing. But she failed. Simply because, the IC might be Feyre’s found family and she might take such a talk from them because it would really be tough love. As for Nesta, she doesn’t view them as family. She barely knows them. So for a group of strangers, or let’s say newly acquainted people, to sit around her and point out her every flaw and shame her for every misstep, who wouldn’t lash out at that? It’s enough she’s forced to spend time among them, on holidays she doesn’t really believe in, where they force her to attend but actively ignore her presence and treat her like a ghost. Why make her come if they don’t enjoy her company? It’s just ridiculous. Then when she gets angry from all the pushing and lashes out and it’s entirely her fault. they’re all like “come to our gatherings where we will insult you, nitpick all your unhealthy coping mechanisms, but don’t be offended and seclude yourself, we all took decades to deal with our trauma and killed people while doing it but your coping mechanisms are unhealthy. And your actions are unforgivable because you lash out at us when we shove ourselves down your throat. How can you not like us? Everyone has to like us.” Then she gets thrown away to a war camp, a FUCKING WAR CAMP, while a big part of her trauma is because of war. And instead of dealing with her face-to-face, while being gentle and showing her they’re on her side WITHOUT JUDGEMENT, WITHOUT WINCING AND GLANCES AT EACH OTHER AND INNER CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HER WHERE SHE’S EXCLUDED, they’re like “we’re tired of your shit so here’s a house you can stay in while you sort this out away from our merry little circle, which has its nose up your business anyway. But still, sort it out away from us.” And in that house she became more and more closed off and her healing - and I will die on this hill - her healing DID NOT start until the house came into play which was her own doing. And it kicked off because of Emerie and Gwyn, who both didn’t judge her, didn’t demonize her, didn’t only see the bad in her, but accepted her as she was and loved every part of her. Showed her that she was not a waste of life and there are things to live for. As for the beloved inner circle? Beyond insulting her and her coping mechanisms, They don’t tell her about the weapons SHE made, because pro-colonization Amren doesn’t think it’s wise, that Nesta would use it against the world. (Amren do you hear how stupid you sound?) they always villianize her, assuming she’d be out to take the world and take revenge on everyone who ever glanced her way. They assumed she was bad, they assumed because she was angry, that she would use her power for killing and terrorizing and building an Empire like they all do. When all she wanted to do was listen to music and be around good company who passed her no judgement.

Anyway, getting into some details with each character:

Feyre: I hated Feyre’s “crying over scrambled eggs because my image is destroyed my sister spent so much money on drinking”. And the fact that when telling Nesta she was doing this for her own good, she told her she was embarrassed for her own image in the same breath. But beyond that I was fine with her. I loved her reconcilation with Nesta. I loved that she was one who wanted to give Nesta more time, recognized that she needed her own time. I love them together. I think without everyone’s interference, their reconcilation would’ve happened much faster. They were already making progress before ~some people~ ruined everything and caused Nesta to be closed off again. I don’t hate that Nesta sacrificed her power to save Feyre in the end. She’s her sister and she loves her and this is not the first time she proved this. She would do anything to protect her sisters and she hates herself for the times she misstepped. Even though it wasn’t her fault and there was a full grown man sitting there who conveniently got a redemption arc. What angers me though, is that it was only after this, that the inner circle viewed her as someone who is worth their respect. And made the sacrifice materialistic by drowning Nesta with gifts. She didn’t do it for their acceptance or for their love, or for payment. She did it because her sister needed help. Period. (Sidenote: I’m writing a post where I delve deep into their relationship, which I will eventually post, because I think I reached an understanding about their relationship)

Elain: let me get something out of the way, she has power. She has free will, she’s not a baby. She’s a grown woman who doesn’t need coddling. I hate how the fandom views her as a baby. And she’s constantly infantilized, preventing her from reaching her full potential. Now that that’s out of the way, here are my 2 cents on her, since she wasn’t in this book much: Nesta’s wording was very clear, yet I’ve seen this scene misread all over the timeline. Nesta said “I sat by your side for weeks. Weeks, while you wasted away, refusing food and drink. While you appeared to hope you’d just wither and die. No one suggested you either shape up or be shipped back to the human lands.” Nesta’s problem is NOT that Elain wasn’t “there” as in “by her side”. She explicitly stated she needed space. Nesta’s problem was that she stood between Elain and anyone who might tell her to snap out of it and lock her trauma in some dark room in the back of her head. She made sure Elain had her time. While Elain agreed to pack her bags and didn’t prevent them from shipping her away, deciding her time was up. All she wants is time, and Elain didn’t have her back on this. Then we have the fact that Elain slut-shamed Nesta. And then when Nesta comes to the party this time, Elain meets her at the door and her reaction instead of saying hi and leaving it at that or simply ignoring her, is “did Feyre pay you this time?” I’m torn on where to stand on the Elain-Nesta situation, a part of me is disappointed in Elain. I think she should’ve handled this better than anyone else because she was there, she witnessed the trauma happen, Nesta was there for her, they grew up being inseparable the entire time. If anyone should understand her better than anyone else, it’s Elain. So why did she abandon her to everyone’s judgement? And a part of me is like maybe she knew whatever she voted wouldn’t matter because the IC were taking the step anyway, and didn’t want to be there when it happened. Or maybe she’s still dealing with her own trauma in her own way and doesn’t want a confrontation. But I always circle back to the sl*t-shaming and the shaming about the drinking, and then I think about the Solstice scene where as soon as she saw her she was like “did Feyre pay you this time?” And a part of me is angry about the shaming undertone of that too, while some part of me thinks that maybe Elain felt unwanted along with everyone else and that in order for Nesta to meet them, she has to be paid, but we will never know unless we hear it from her.

Rhysand: that piece of shit, misogynist, who used his powers to compel Nesta to obey his orders, pulled rank on her, taunted and threatened her every step of the way and utilized her for his own agenda, and was *surprised* to learn the woman has trauma. Took him being inside her head and unable to wake her up from the nightmare, because the behavior she was exhibiting wasn’t enough. [insert shocked pickatchu meme]. I also would like to add that him playing the protective love interest from his mate’s own sister, WHO COULD’VE HARMED HER IF SHE WANTED TO, but never wanted to because she’s not a bad person, is so cheap. Like- you, the guy who drugged her and made her give you lap dances, are afraid for her sake… from her sister? Who only ever used words as jabs and is generally rude? Or do you feel like you’re overpowered and are trying to fill the void in your toxic masculinity and reassert dominance ?

Cassian: He was patient with her, and probably the healthiest person in the inner circle who dealt with her until she was okay, but he still silently agreed with all the shit that was said about her. Shit she didn’t deserve to be said about her as someone going through trauma. He mocked whatever progress she made on the stairs calling it pathetic in the beginning. He stayed silent when Nesta was stripped of her will, when she was told she belongs in the Court of Nightmares, when her fate was decided for her, when she was being lied to, when she was threatened to be thrown to the humans who would kill her. He made some progress and understood her better with time, but it doesn’t excuse how he stayed silent when she was being mistreated. Specially since he claims her loves her. He also stayed silent as the Inner Circle despised her presence but still used her to reach what they’re plotting for. He progressed, and he got better, I’ll give him that. But still, as someone who claims he loves her the way he does, he shouldn’t have allowed his friends to manipulate and use her in their schemes but then exclude her from everything else, even knowledge about her own power. But I love that he was patient, that he worked to understand her, that he grew to stand up for her. I would argue that they are the healthiest ship written by SJM this far.

Mor: fucking Mor, who experienced trauma, told Nesta she belongs in the court of Nightmares. Where she was abused herself. Knowing women are viewed as objects there, knowing Nesta would recieve abuse there. She said that, wishing abuse on someone who she simply didn’t like and had some quarrels with. They never saw eye to eye and that’s fine. They always had sharp tongues when talking to each other and that’s fine. What’s not fine though, is that THIS of all things, seemed so out of character for Mor. Now, she never knew Nesta was a survivor of SA. But as someone who helps SA victims, she’s the last person I expected such a comment from. It felt very out of character. I hate that this is the Bi character in all of this mess. Of all people, a hypocrite is the Bi person. The LGBTQ community deserves better. I thought about it, and maybe Mor, being like a stranger to Nesta, and seeing her ignore Cassian in front of the Illyrians who already look down on him, made her angry to the point where she just wanted to land a jab and didn’t think her words would mean anything. Maybe all she wanted to do was stand up for Cassian, but what she said was definitely not true and not okay. I wanted her and Nesta to have a talk about it, but also she grew to have decent conversations with her and she helped her when she and Cassian had that fight. So I don’t know, maybe it’s a silent progress between them.

Amren: this one told her she was a waste of life. What a great way to deal with someone who’s suffering from PTSD and depression and having suicidal thoughts, Amren. Tell them they’re a waste of life, enforce every thought they are having as fact, push them to the point where they doubt they should be breathing, and when they’re told they could tumble down a mountain and break their bones while hiking, their first thought would be “good”. Amren deserves a medal, a badge of honor for being the 500+ old woman who has healthy ways of dealing with traumatized people telling them they don’t deserve to live because the thoughts of their power and dealing with controlling that power right now is so overwhelming. Amren, who decided that because Nesta was always angry, she had no right to know that she used her power unknowingly and forged powerful weapons. Amren, who was pushing for colonization throughout this book, was afraid of Nesta misusing her power. Villainizing Nesta’s every thought, as if Nesta wasn’t overwhelmed from the thought of possessing so much power, as if Nesta doesn’t refuse to use her powers and train. As if Nesta is out there hiding as she masters her power to reemerge and turn the world upside down. You’re the one who’s pushing Rhys to colonize other territories and become high king, Amren. Maybe *you* should be locked up in the house of wind for therapy. What hurts most in this is Amren was her friend. She trusted Amren. Amren said that shitty line to her and then lied to her and manipulated her and used her to further Rhys’s agenda. She flopped from telling Feyre that Nesta is immortal and a few years are nothing, and she should be given time. She would not betray her trust, to whatever she turned into in ACOSF. And everyone give SJM a round of pats on the back and an applause for making Amren the wise one here and making Nesta, the traumatized one who was wronged, get on her knees and apologize. I mean- if you thought this apology scene was necessary, then clarification about the fight between them was just as necessary. Or you include neither scene. But deeming the apology important and not the incident? This is some victim blaming on a whole other level.

The House of Wind: The house of wind was honestly one of the best parts of this book. It was Nesta, “Lady Death” as they call her, breathing life into something, and it was gentle, and it was patient, and it was understanding, and it pushed her to be healthier without judging, without throwing insults or slut-shaming. It hated that she didn’t eat? It kept waiting for her until her body gave out and she had to eat. It didn’t like her drinking? It gave her water when she asked for wine. It showed her its darkest part where she found the greatest warmth as well, as if saying don’t be ashamed of your darkness because in it you’ll find light, and it didn’t abandon her or stop responding to her when she was angry. It was actively by her side, without any judgement, only support and pushing her to fix the behaviours without dissing her. and it was everything those people around her weren’t. It was family.

Gwyn: their first meeting wasn’t at all what you would call “friendly”, to a fault by Nesta. Gwyn didn’t even know anything about Nesta, yet she didn’t react with even more anger as ~others~ did, she didn’t fear Nesta, or give a retort, or get angry and lash out at her. She took the blow and was, with all the calm in the world, like fine, you want to tell on me, go tell. And Nesta did go tell on her, then realized by herself how she acted rashly. And later helped Gwyn without being asked to, by swapping the book so Merrill doesn’t scold her. And their friendship grew to the point where Gwyn, a traumatized person who couldn’t dare leave the library, started training with her, was her friend and had conversations with her that didn’t center her trauma or her coping mechanisms being analyzed. She went out of the library for the first time in 2 years when she knew Nesta needed her by her side. She occupied her mind with stories of Valkyries, women being strong and unyielding in a society which didn’t allow it. She took her hand and gave her a purpose in life to work for. Gave her a friend who didn’t judge, a kind face in the maelstorm of judgemental faces. Until she felt like a safe space to Nesta to the point where she spilled all her thoughts, the ones she could only admit to herself, to Gwyn, letting her inside those walls. And when she braced for judgement, she didn’t receive it. Gwyn dealing with someone’s trauma, as someone who’s been through trauma herself, is one of the beautiful corners of this book

Emerie: Another woman with trauma. She sees Nesta enter her store, of course she knows who she is, yet she doesn’t judge her. Nesta asks about making the fatigues warmer, Emerie says she’ll ask, but it’s costly. Nesta says then she can’t afford it, admits that she was cut off, Emerie, as a stranger, doesn’t judge her. She says she could make them anyway and she can pay her as she can. Because no one should feel cold. It’s simple, irrelevant. Nesta wouldn’t freeze to death, she as a stranger has no obligation to help, it’s a simple reasoning. “You shouldn’t feel cold”. It’s enough for her to help Nesta. Something as mundane as feeling cold. She asks her to join her for a meal. And Nesta asks her if she would join the training, which Emerie refuses. and Nesta blurts out that she didn’t take her for a coward. And later, Nesta sends her the herbs she wishes to get which she can’t get often because of her location, and it’s a message of “you too deserve to see what’s best in the world, to go out and experience the beautiful parts and live, not just exist”. So Emerie goes to training with her as well, and they bond over romance novels. Emerie also reaches a point where she opens up about her own trauma, and tells the truth about what she faced and her survival. This girl who is 50-something at least, who has never had friends, living a lonely secluded life, finally found someone who was trustworthy enough to be around and form a bond with. As for the fact that she is a PoC, and the illyrians are portrayed as this group of savages who abuse their women and their women have no say in their lives and futures and how they clip their women’s wings, when wings, wingspan and wingplay heavily imply that wings are erogenous parts of the body and wing clipping seems to be the equivalent of Circumcision, which again so happens to be done by the “PoC savages who abuse their women”, hits a whole lot as fucking racist and xenophobic. PoC deserve a storyline where they’re not viewed as the villains.

Azriel: I loved his relationship with Nesta. He was the best chaperon™️, he never spoke in judgement toward her. There was a silent understanding between them. However, I’m not against him showing his feelings toward Elain or her toward him. It’s fine, if that’s what they both want. I don’t think Lucien is the type to call for a blood duel. He simply brings her presents and attends when invited, he doesn’t force himself on her and keeps his distance. However I did hate that Azriel took the necklace and gave it to Gwyn, as a secondhand. I know his only intention was to make her smile but the necklace wasn’t meant for her. It’s not a trial by error, he can’t just keep trying out with different women every time he fails with one. And I’ll just leave this here.

The elephant in the room: the entire IC is involved in this, them all blaming Nesta, framing her as the wrong person, when she told Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy? I don’t care if she did it while she was angry, her heart was in the right place. She got hurt from them deciding her fate without her involvement, voting on her, not once, but twice, about her fate because she wasn’t fast enough to deal with her trauma, then again when deciding if she should know about what she did with her own power and the weapons. and she showed Feyre what was really at play. Protecting her from what she faced with the Inner Circle. Just because she was angry while doing it does not mean she did it out of spite. She did it to expose them, specially Amren at that point. But I don’t get how it was twisted to “because she wanted to hurt Feyre”. She wasn’t even angry at Feyre. But you all would rather suck up to the Inner Circle than confront the fact that they’re hypocrites and liars with a propaganda. They’re evil. They fear Nesta using her power to seize control of everyone because it’s how THEY are. With all this High King crap. Basically colonization dreams. With how they press rank whenever it suits them, and lie about the law to win arguments. It’s because those who are inherently bad think everyone is bad just like them.

Other Elephants in the room which have been here a long time: the thing with blaming Nesta for not being the breadwinner… I could never get it. Some have money-earning skills, others don’t. She, at the point of her life when she was human, was only trained in dancing and appealing to men socially so she could uplift the family’s social status. She couldn’t hunt. Feyre could. And NEITHER, should’ve been the breadwinner. Nesta was willing to starve to death if it would push her father to do something. Feyre wasn’t willing to wait and starve or watch anyone starve. But it doesn’t mean Nesta was at fault. She was only 3 years older than Feyre. Let’s leave the “the oldest child has to step in for the parents when the parents fail” mentality in the past. It’s ridiculous. Nesta was under no obligation to be the breadwinner. And she suffered self-flagellation regularly for letting Feyre walk out there and hunt. But she literally had no skills that when she thought of something to do, she could only think of selling herself on the streets. The parents were abusive, both of them. Favoring one child over the other and planting rivalry between the siblings. “i love you” means nothing. NOTHING, when there is no action to prove it. And if anything, this book made me realize that Nesta was never okay. She was never in a good place mentally. I mean, I knew, but this book just proved it. Her mother favored her alright, but it was not in a loving way. She simply exploited her to climb the social ladder. She didn’t give her love, she gave her instructions. She enabled the grandmother to beat her, and instill some “harsher punishments” one of which Nesta still holds the scars for. She was called worthless, as a child. Why? Because she made a wrong step in a dance. She was physically and verbally abused, and her mother let it happen. Yet she was the only one who would give Nesta the time of day so Nesta still loved her. As a child, her mother was the only person who showed interest in her and she clung to. However twisted it was, it’s the only love she ever got. The only love she knew. Then she lost her. and later the family also lost their wealth. So all she was taught to do her entire life suddenly became meaningless because she can’t achieve what her mother “trained” her to do. And we know the rest of the story. She never felt at home, not even when her mother lived and she still had that wealth. She admitted as much. She was never fine. She might’ve appeared the part, but it was never true. And since she was so good at masking her emotions, nobody was the wiser.

side note: As for her power being the “bare minimum” now, there better not be a plothole, since Rhysand couldn’t contain merely the “surface of her power” because it was too much. and if that’s all she retained, then it’s good enough for me.

[newyorkrican922]

I know a bunch of people will just scroll through this and that is fine. This is just a personal rant and sometimes I need to vent about because I’m still a bit upset about it.

I’ve had a roommate for the past three years now. We met through my sister and became friends ourselves. Everything was pretty good when we moved in. No arguments or issues. Mind you, I’m not the tidiest person out there. It’s not that mess doesn’t bother me, it’s just like a good 80-90% of the time I have no energy to do so or it adds to my anxiety. Thus I form guilt over it, I get depressed, and my mental strength goes down the drain because cleaning is piled on to the things I have to do that I’m already worrying about on top of a full time job where half the time I’m definitely working in some form over hours dealing with parents and my bosses, trying to make sure the children I work with get their services. Plus trying to ensure I have groceries and maintain a social life. I’ve had so many people tell me I never do things for myself, I’m always doing things for other people. It’s draining, you get the point. Executive function blah blah blah.

We’ve had this discussion a few times about my stepping up and cleaning. I feel I definitely gotten better to the point where certain things are automatic for me, I.e. wiping down the counters in the kitchen and counters right after I mess them up, same with the shower, and TMI - taking the hair from the shower (I have androgynous alopecia so my hair falls out A LOT), sweeping the kitchen when I’m done, cleaning while I cook, ya know basic things a functioning adult SHOULD be able to do. If there’s a mess, I keep it to my bedroom and out of the common areas.

Today was the one day I had left to go grocery shopping and Christmas shopping. I was meeting my sister for the Christmas shopping portion and was in a rush after I got out of the shower. So I do my thing and get everything. As I’m loading the first couple of bags into the apartment, things were fine, but she did approach me about something to do with cleaning. She asked me if I can start picking up my hair off the floor after I do it or in the shower. I reply to her, I wipe down the shower after I use it every time and always take my hair out of the drain and sure, I can get better and I will try to be more mindful of picking it up off the floor. Mind you, I’m about to rush out to go get my second bunch of bags, but I made a comment about I don’t realize when the hair falls out of my head when I’m brushing it or putting up, etc. I go back to get the rest of my stuff out the car. I come back in, she gives me the silent treatment. At this point, I’m annoyed now and I just said, ‘if you have something to say, just say it. I’m not doing this thing again where you give me the silent treatment.’ She mumbles something about it being the same thing and gets all pouty. I finish loading my stuff, load the dishwasher, and clean up after myself/the kitchen. She makes a point to clean the bathroom and then goes into her room. Oh and while I’m doing the stuff in the kitchen, she makes it a point to show me the hair she pulled off the drain to throw it away. (Mind you, her main point was the floor, not the shower). Like that is so fucking petty and passive aggressive.

I’m just so freaking tired and frustrated . It’s like now she’s nitpicking how I clean and it’s not up to her standards. We live in a nice apartment and don’t have any issues with pests. I feel like I’m constantly jumping through hoops to appease my roommate and her standards. It’s constant shady comments during regular conversation about how ‘I don’t know how much cleaning she actually does or how much of her cleaning I don’t see.’ I’m sorry I didn’t jump right then and there to do what you asked me to or validate your feelings like I always did before, but my actions over time proved I’ve stepped up. Today was one moment I forgot to take my hair out of the drain! I’m fucking human, I’m going to forget, especially while I’m getting ready you needed to use the bathroom while I was getting ready and disrupt my routine and then I have to go! I also don’t appreciate being spoken to like a child or a bad pet that has to had their nose pushed into what they did wrong. Talk to me like a human and someone who is on your level.

She has a passive temper tantrum and left the apartment. I gave her the silent treatment right back. Her and I already got into another non- related issue, but so many people in my family and my friends were telling me they don’t really like her that much. She has a tendency to be all about herself and selfish, she a conditional friend, and likes to take advantage. It took me this long to realize that because she’s been with me through some really tough times and who has stood up for me against my own sister when we had issues (another story).

I know this is like all over the place, but am actually in the wrong? At this point I really don’t know what to do anymore.

[bittybattybunny]

I hope your not feeling down on your writing skills because I haven't caught up and commented on your latest releases. It's not you it's that I pick too many fanfics to follow and they all update a lot and I've been so busy and I've fallen behind on so many fics from various authors and sometimes my depression just makes me want to lie in bed all day doing nothing and it doesn't help I have to spend my limited spoons helping family everyday. I know these aren't good excuses, but I do sympathize with the lack of energy feeling at least. But your work really does bring a lot of joy to my life. It's so fun keeping up with your various AUs, and your latest one that features Kaya as Spider King has me really hyped because I want to learn more about Kaya, she's so fun! And Ruclipse is such a good comfort ship that just hits all the things I like seeing in a ship. You're so amazing and creative and it's awful that anyone would try to make you feel otherwise! Like your newest OC, Justin Tyme seems like such a lovable dumbass bastard. I love his wild, curly hair and his dapper outfit. I can't wait to see what dumb shit he gets himself into! I know this is really long and rambly, but I hope you know you have fans who genuinely love your work. I don't know if you're still thinking about that one comment you mentioned that got you really down, but honestly, fuck that guy. I don't know what they said but it must have been pure BS to have you doubting your hard earned art skills. I wish I could do more to prove you're awesome and that your fans really admire you, I just hope you don't stop sharing what you love because some rando was nasty for no good reason. Because we love what you do!

It's not like anyone one person nonny so please don't blame yourself. This has been an ongoing thing for a few months actually...

it's just a general thing over all lately like. I mentioned this in dm's with a friend but overall past few months I've had lower engagement overall with my works and it really does a number on my confidence. More so because like your latter point.

yes, I am still very much thinking about that one negative comment. Because that person also has the need to comment on other things and I even had a thing asking why I took a few weeks to update (when reality I posted to another ongoing fic and my TLC chapters are long chapters) and just the fact they could tear into a character (yes it was a comment on a character specifically and not even a main character it's a side character who has an important role for Snatcher's growth as a person down the line) then go saying "why didn't you update" when I posted a double update that week---

Like it lives in my head rent free and I want to literally cry because like the character is a focal in an upcoming chapter and I can't deal with another "why are they back" type thing. because "everyone finds them annoying"

And I'll be honest. it was Kaya. Like I've been trying to have fun with my BCU stuff with her as Spiderking because it's engaging for me and me and @/doodleimprovement even came up with a b-plot involving Kaya and Hattie trying to hook Nell and Marcus together and it's one of the best things as well as Kaya and Nell having a really good relationship.

but because of that one comment it makes me hesitant to do anything with Kaya despite she's one of my oldest ocs, my most thought out ocs and I adore her beyond anything. Like yes she's over powered and such and in TLC rn she comes off as a know it all, but upcoming chapters will show she's just a spacey kid who's trying to fit into a role others decided for her and isn't really as all mighty as she seems. Snatcher even ends up thinking of her as a little sister more than anything. Like fuck I'm even hesitant to share anything on her actual story despite how much work is in it. Like she's my favorite Oc (that's why shes my discord icon, and I'm pretty sure she's my twitter icon as well)

And like the points in the comment just. IDK they didn't fit to her, if anything the points are more suited to be shot at Eclipse.

Which is another thing I just get iffy on. I love RuClipse and everything with it. I love writing and drawing the dorks. But I'm now so afraid if Kaya could be attacked for only showing in a handful of chapters that don't even touch on who she is, when is someone going to finally tell me off on my wolf? who's going to tear into a character I pour a lot of personal shit into to try and comfort myself?

I use Ruclipse to deal with my own romantic heart, they are what I wish I could have so I love to write them, I hurt them but i like to make them happy in the end. Someone who can deal with your highs and lows. No ones perfect but you can still figure it out and love even the negative parts (I am a heavy romantic OTL)

he is in fact a lovable bastard. i have fun plans and he gives me an excuse for why Cel is so tired and having to be the brain cell and how she even wound up working with the time kids when she's so much older than they are. Currently I'm trying to think of how to use him and honestly I think he's gonna wind up hella comic relief fun guy who's just making a mess and do his own side story while Hat and Bow are busy in subcon----

thank you, I don't mind the rambly it kinda gave me a chance to get this off my chest... like I've typed this kinda response up time and time again and I always delete. I feel like I'm whining because I get upset but it's just, I spend so much time making things, I use all my spoons on either working or creating, I just want to know if it means anything but then negativity lives in my head because what's a functioning meat cube??? I try to stay positive but it's hard. Like another thing is Moon Guardian; the reason I haven't updated? because I have had someone bothering me about it. weekly I get asked about how I'm doing on it but it's not from a place of "want to read it" it's because I told them they couldn't post a certain thing until the chapter is done so it feels pressuring to constantly get asked because I feel the only reason they want to post is to boost their thing and I'm just the machine to boost it with my characters and comic.... like it feels they've taken the comic from me and it sucks because I have so many fun things planned. Like I accidentally went off on Nina about a thing with Alpine skyline and Eclipse as well as a thing with a Time Rift and a Jelly ghost.

Sorry kinda went off, just I've sat on this thought train since like early april. I've done my best to ignore it and just keep going but it's gotten really hard with the fact my health hasn't been really great. I've spent a lot of time lately bed bound because I just hurt so badly. if I'm not resting, I'm at my day job which is incredibly stressful rn as I only really work mornings and I see things that are being missed so then i report it and it still gets missed and i can't get it fixed after a point cuz we're back to full service and need the people so I can't nitpick but just.... I'm bitter okay like if I left this shit when I worked I would have gotten yelled at but now we just let it slide??? and this stresses me out which then causes my body to freak out because I'm stressed which puts me in more pain. and then like at work have people acting shocked I have my cane or soemthing and just skfdslkfksdf

so my energy is so tanked. and then the negative comment in my head, no idea if people like things cuz I have no idea if I hear nothing, just has had me doubting why post. Like I should go back to just not posting my stories and sketches or w/e and slink back to my hole like I was before.

idk Its just. a bad night in the house of bun. I've had these thoughts festering and I guess today was the dam breaking. It's probs cuz I'm nervous posting Chimeras because it's a very dark au.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Name (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x fem!Reader

Anon asked: “suggestion for Todoroki angst : he got in an arranged marriage with S/O because of his dad who offered a large amount of money to her family for this. Indeed it’s not what they are both looking for but Todoroki really acts cold, is sharp, openly criticizes her (a bit OOC ik) ... S/O is hurt but is still trying to be a good wife around the house to make the best of the situation and hide her insecurities. It’s just an idea, if it does not inspire you I hope you will find something better!! xx

Genre: Angst. Just...angst. I’m so sorry in advance plz don’t hate me

Warnings: Grab your tissues, this is a long roller coaster that’s only going downhill OH GOD I’M SO SORRY

Word count: 3,059

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ 

a/n: (Submission 1/3 for my post asking for todo angst ideas!  Thanks for the ask anon!)

Um. This is...depressing.  Really depressing and really intense.  I didn’t expect it would turn out this way.  But it did.  I had 2 other endings, but I instinctively wrote this one.  I actually had to stop and cry for a few minutes because it was just really painful I mean, I know I said I was ready to but I didn’t actually mEAn it

I tried a different style for this, but I think it suits the story well.  It’s 3rd person limited because I wanted you to experience everyone’s feelings in this (gotta maximize on the angst yknow) and half past tense bc of reasons you’ll find out.

God I’m afraid to post this. Is it bad that I love it, I honestly spent so much time writing this, but it hurts sO mUch?? Y’all are gonna hate me, you’re gonna kill me, oh no, just read the thing already, I’m hiding.

Buy me a coffee?

Shoto didn't know how to react to the news.  It's not that he had his eye on anyone in particular, or that he was even interested in marriage for that matter.  But because he proposed it, the man who had spent his entire childhood controlling every aspect of his life, he refused to accept any other intrusions from the man he should call "father."

The strange man across from his father spoke those words so casually.  "So Endeavor, when are these two tying the knot?"

At first, he thought he had misheard or misunderstood.  And then his father responded just as casually, "The date is set for next month."

The normally calm and collected boy almost burst the entire room into flames.  He clenched the silverware so hard his knuckles turned white and his teeth ground together, but he couldn't say anything in front of his father's guest and his daughter for fear of shaming himself.  The girl across from him offered a sympathetic look, but he turned away, already preparing the earful he's going to give his father.

-

"I want nothing to do with this!" he whirled on Endeavor as soon as they were home.  "You've made my life a living hell controlling every single thing!  And now you even want to control my marriage?!"

"I'm doing this for you!" Endeavor bellowed right back.  "For the Todoroki name!  For your future!"

"This is all for you!  I want no part-!"

"If you don't agree, you'll never see your mother or the siblings again."

The calm threat was enough to drench Shoto's wrath into submissive fear.  The flaming monster in front of him proved once again that he hasn't an ounce of sympathy for his blood.  He's learned that family is the only thing keeping his son under his thumb and he still actively exploits that weakness.

All the boy can do is swallow and walk away, retreating to the outside world to escape his bitter reality even temporarily.  Shoto doesn't have outbursts often, but there are times when the straw finally breaks the camel's back, and this is one of them.  All he can do is run until he can't run anymore, reaching somewhere secluded enough where he can burst out in flames and ice without hurting anyone, finally getting to a forest where he can do exactly that and scream to his heart's content.  It's the only thing he can do that is under his own control.

In the month that followed up to the wedding, Shoto barely spoke a word to anyone, choosing to isolate himself.  He only came out when he absolutely had to show his face at functions to the bride's family and look presentable.  His mind was always absent, the time flying in a blur of colors and white.  Thankfully, his father did the preparations, so all he had to do was go along with everything.  Shoto was simply playing a role in a play or movie, he was an actor who deserved an award for being in character for a month.

The night of the wedding, he and his newly-wedded wife were whisked away to their new home, being alone for the first time together.  He didn't even know what she looked like nor did he care.  As soon as they walked through the door of their already-furnished house, he released a heavy breath, brushed past her, unbuttoned his tuxedo, and - cold as his ice quirk - instructed, "I'm going to bed.  Don't come up tonight."  It was the first time he had ever spoken directly to her.

His wife, through this entire ordeal, was patient with him.  She didn't want this arrangement either, but she figured they could at least talk and come to a mutual agreement.  The entire month, she never pushed him to speak to her.  She anticipated that he would be rational about this, as she was told by her family, and that they would be able to talk things over when they were finally alone.  Just as she was going to speak her mind the way she had rehearsed it many times, he dismissed her.  She was hurt, but she understood.  He's exhausted after a whole month of stress and preparations, she rationalized, He just wants to rest.  I wouldn't want to talk to a stranger after all that either.

Resolving to try again tomorrow morning, she undressed (with great difficulty), crept into the master bedroom for her clothes while Shoto showers, retrieved her pajamas quietly, and retreated back to the living room.  The girl searched all the closets for a thick enough blanket and settles down to sleep on a couch, the exhaustion putting her right to sleep.

The next morning, the new Mrs. Todoroki woke up bright and early to make breakfast for her husband as an olive branch.  She toiled away in the kitchen, somewhat making a racket even though she wanted to stay quiet so Shoto can sleep.  Just as she finished setting the table and had to face the question of how to wake him, the boy padded down from the room.

"Oh, morning!" she smiled brightly at him.

He murmured a greeting back only to be polite, his face devoid of any real emotions other than coldness.  He sat as far away from her a possible, thanking her for the meal halfheartedly and digging in without another word.

After waiting a few moments to let him satisfy his hunger, she cleared her throat.  "So, um-"

"Your tamagoyaki needs more soy sauce and butter," he stated bluntly.

She blinked at the harsh comment.  It was shocking he said anything to her at all, and the first thing he said was an insult.

"And the miso has no flavor," he continued in the same tone.

The girl finally gathered her wits.  "I'll do better tomorrow.  Thanks for the feedback, I guess?" she laughed nervously, trying to erase the immense tension Shoto bled into the atmosphere.  When he didn't respond, she tried again.  "I know this isn't something either of us wanted, but that doesn't mean we have to live here like enemies.  We could be friends, or even just roommates!"

"I'd rather be strangers," he interjected harshly.

It felt like a stab in the heart.  Here she was, trying to make their lives somewhat bearable together through their common misfortune, and all he wanted to do was live like ghosts in the same house.

Shoto placed his chopsticks down firmly, glaring her straight in the eyes with the iciest hatred she's ever seen.  "Just to be clear, I want no part of you.  You live your life and I live mine.  You can have the bedroom to sleep at night if you want, but it's mine when I come home to shower and prepare for bed.  We will not sleep, talk, or breathe near each other as long as we are in this house."

She dipped her head in defeat, unable to bear the weight of his stare.  "C-Can we at least have our meals together?" she asked feebly.

It's something he respected, coming from family values no matter how broken.  It's the only exception he made to their less-than relationship.

Months passed and she kept her end of the bargain through a suffocating routine.  At first, the girl was kind, trying to get him to open up to her somehow without overstepping her boundaries.  She made excuses for him constantly.  He's just tired.  The least I can do is leave him alone.  I can't comfort him anyway, I'm a stranger.  He's still upset about the whole thing, he'll come around.  She even begged her boss to let her leave a little early every day to make sure she had ample amount of time to get home, shower, and prepare dinner before Shoto returned.  When he did, he wordlessly showered, sat down to dinner, nitpicked at her cooking, finished eating, and went to sleep on the living room couch, all without even sparing her a glance.

But as every day passed, she grew more weary and worn in her efforts to please him.  She tried to fix every little complaint Shoto had about her cooking or the cleanliness of the house or the laundry, but nothing seemed to satisfy him.  She tried to hold onto the silver lining.  At least he never touched me wrong or took advantage of me, she would think bitterly.  He has the decency not to take his anger out on me.

Then the dark thoughts closed in as he continued ignoring her. Surely, Shoto's only disgusted with his father, he doesn't harbor hatred for her personally.  Then she would remember the hate and disgust in his mismatched eyes the first day of their marriage.  She realized no matter how desperately she tried, he wouldn't show her any signs of warmth or appreciation.  No more did she try to make conversation with him during meals or greet him when he came home.  There were days she thought, Why should I even try?  He wouldn't like it either way.  What's the point of getting up today?  Maybe he'll even criticize how I sleep.  But she still rose out of bed every morning and carried out her routine because it could always be worse.

A sliver of hope came in the form of Shoto's birthday.  The girl figured if she did something just a little special, he would acknowledge her even the tiniest bit.  She spent days beforehand researching and testing out the perfect cold soba recipe because she knew it was his favorite.  She lit some candles on the table and bought a small cake for them to share.

When he came home, she was sure he would notice and say something, but he didn't; he went straight up to the bathroom as he usually did without a word.  Though she felt the glimmer lessen in her heart, she didn't give up.  For the first time in a while, she verbalized her thoughts to him.

"I made your favorite for your birthday!" she chirped as he sat down, setting the plate and a cup of dipping sauce in front of him.  She was so eager for him to try it because she was confident she'd gotten it right this time.  If she were a dog, her tail would've wagged in anticipation as he slurped the noodles into his mouth.  She waited patiently for his feedback, leaning forward in excitement as he swallowed.

"The noodles are slightly overcooked.  And the dipping sauce is too strong, you didn't add enough water."

Her hopes came crashing to a halt.  She couldn't even muster anything else to say as he hastily finished his dinner and rose to leave.

She stood up, heart hammering in her chest.  "What about the cake?"  Anything, something!

"I don't want it."  He turned his back to her.

"I got it for you!"  It was the first time she explicitly stated her intentions, the first time she made herself vulnerable.

"You shouldn't have gotten it at all.  It was a waste of time.  Why did you even try?"  The calm and cold words stung her as he got up and left her in the dining room alone.

His words echoed against the empty walls of the dining room.  She looked down at the cake he disregarded, feeling cold and dizzy.  She took a shaky breath in and out before resting her head on the cold glass table to stabilize herself.  The voice stabs through her even as she closed her eyes to block them out.

It was then she felt bluntly in her mind.  He hates me.  

-

The girl feels nothing but numbing cold, both on her face and inside.  Rolling up to sit, her neck and back cry out in soreness from sleeping on the table, pale light greeting her from the nearby window.  Her face feels strange, and she trudges to the bathroom mirror to check why.  She knows she should be preparing for work, but what's the point?  Her reflection reveals lines across her cheek, probably from sleeping on the edge of the table.  She shuffles to the kitchen because she should probably start breakfast, but why should she?  Leaning against the counter, she can't bring herself to move anywhere.  Her brain buffers as she tries to force herself to think of what to do now.  She doesn't feel sick, but there's a dull, cool feeling in her limbs that she can't face.

The phone rings, catching her off guard.  Glancing at the number, she doesn't hesitate to answer.  "Hello?"

"Hi, baby.  It's me."

Her eyebrows relax, appreciating the sound of a familiar voice.  "Hey, Mom.  What's up?"  She knows her voice sounds weak, she's hoping the woman can't hear it.

"I'm just checking in, you haven't called in a while.  Is something up?  You don't sound good."

"I'm...fine," she stumbles over the word.  "How's dad?"

"He's doing well.  You sure you're not sick, sweetie?"

"I'm not."  She leans her back on the counter.

"Is Shoto there?  How is he?"

And just like that, she feels something dislodge in her throat.  "He's going to work, he probably left early."  She doesn't know, there hasn't been any rustling in the house.

Her mom is silent for a while.  "Tell me the truth.  What happened?"

The sound of her mother's stern voice moves something in her chest.  "It's nothing, I just made a mistake."

"Doing what?"

"I tried making Shoto's favorite dish for his birthday yesterday.  I put so much time and energy into perfecting it for him to enjoy it, but I fell short again."  She laughs bitterly, tears starting to fill her eyes.  "He didn't even want the cake I got for him, he said it was a waste.  I shouldn't have bothered with it."  She blinks and a tear slides down her face.  "I don't know why I was expecting something different to happen, I'm so stupid."

"Honey, where is this coming from?  What's going on?"

She wipes her face, but more spill out of her eyes as she slides down the cabinet onto the cold floor.  "It's just a little frustrating when you're sharing a house with someone you're married to and they barely acknowledge you.  I mean, I expected there to be problems at first given the circumstances, but I didn't expect this."  Her voice shakes with every word.  "God, what did I do to deserve this?  I've lived in this house for 5 months, and never has he even said 'thank you' to me.  Hasn't breathed a word of appreciation to me.  I do so much for him.  I've bent over backwards for him just to make everything done the way he wants it, I've worked my entire routine, my entire life in this house to cater to him, but all he does is complain!"  She sobs into the phone, curling up into a ball as tremors wrack through her body.  "I'm just so tired.  I don't know how much more I can take.  I've made so many excuses for him, but I just can't do anything right.  Why am I even still here?"

Her mother is silent on the other line.  "My baby, if I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have allowed this marriage.  I can't believe you're going through this."

The girl can't formulate words or think anything coherent.  She drops the phone out of her hand, wrapping her legs to her chest as the tremors continue in waves, muffled whimpers the only thing escaping her lips because she's afraid to cry out loud despite being in an empty, lonely house.

-

Shoto heard something he probably shouldn't have, but he definitely needed to hear.  It bothered him for the rest of the day.  It was a sobering slap in the face that made him feel shame and regret, a hard-to-swallow pill that sat in his stomach the entire day.

On his way back home, the sound of her sobs echoes in his mind.  He curses his behavior from the past few months.  At the very least, he made a lady cry, and at the most, he's been a complete asshole.  It's all his fault, that is something he's completely aware of and is ready to take full responsibility for.  All this time, he was stupidly neglecting her out of spite for his father, but he broke her in the process.  He's angry that he had to hear her crying to realize that.  The only thing he can do now is hurry home to profusely apologize for what he's done and hope they can start over new and she forgives him, which he's prepared for her not to do.

Honestly, he deserves all the hate from her that he's shown her.  After everything she's done for him and all the effort she's put into their imbalanced relationship, he wouldn't be surprised if she yelled at him and called him all sorts of names.

Shoto walks through the door, the atmosphere different.  The house is quiet as usual, but it's more eerie than he remembers, as if that means anything with how aloof he was.  He slips into the bedroom and changes quickly, returning back to the quiet dining room where his dinner waits for him at his place.

He tentatively sits and spares a quick glance at the girl who's supposed to be his wife.  Her eyes are still puffy and she's tugging at her sleeves.  It seems she's avoiding him and he was avoiding her before.  He questions how things should start.   When is the right time to speak his piece.  Would she listen to him now?  He decides to take a bite first and chews slowly.  I guess a 'thank you' is a good place to start-

"We're getting a divorce."

He stops suddenly, almost choking.

"You don't owe me anything, and I don't want anything from you."  She isn't looking at him, voice calm and collected.  "Besides, it's better this way since it's what you wanted."  She rises from her seat smoothly.  "I've already packed for the next few nights.  I'll have some workers come in the following weeks to clear out the rest, and the papers will be delivered promptly."  Her footsteps recede from the room.

Shoto turns around to call out to her, and his minds comes up blank.

He never even bothered to remember her name.

~

Sequel?

Sequel!

[douxreviews]

Quantum Leap - Season Three Review

"I always do the right thing, Al. And where does it get me?"

Season three is when the formula started to wear thin a bit... and I got a little tired of "Oh, boy," even though Scott Bakula valiantly did his level best to make it sound different every single time. Al hitting his hand link also got a little old. It was also pretty obvious by this point that God has a sick sense of humor. The way Sam is dumped into ridiculous and/or dangerous situations with no knowledge of what is going on is like an ongoing practical joke. Why would God leap Sam into a magic box being pierced by swords, or just in time to sprinkle talc on a naked guy's underwear?

What works

Just like season two, the best episodes of season three are the premiere and the finale. In fact, the premiere is considered to be the best episode of the series, because Sam finally got to leap home. Sort of.

3.1 "The Leap Home, Part 1 (November 25, 1969)": How many of us would give nearly everything for a chance to go back in time and fix what went wrong in our own lives? It's tragic that when Sam leaped into himself at sixteen, he longed to save everyone in his family, but had to face the fact that it was not what God sent him there to do.

In a way, "The Leap Home" paralleled "M.I.A.", where Al refused to believe Ziggy's projections because he wanted the leap to be about saving his marriage to Beth. Here, Sam also refused to believe what Al was telling him because he was certain he was there to save his brother from dying in Vietnam, his father from dying of lung cancer, and even that he could keep his little sister Katie from ruining her life by marrying an abusive man. It's so easy for the audience to put themselves in Sam's shoes. I confess that I've often fantasized about going back in time somehow so that I could find a way to save my sister's life.

But no, you really can't go home again. With the possible exception of Al dancing with Beth in "M.I.A.," "The Leap Home" gave us the strongest scene in the series as Sam told his little sister Katie the truth about time travel and the bad stuff that was coming, and tried to prove it by singing his favorite song that hadn't been written yet. (A beautiful vocal by Scott Bakula, and by the way, "Imagine" is, coincidentally, my favorite song of all time, too.) Katie's face as she slowly realized that she'd never heard the song before and that it meant their brother Tom would die was genuinely heartbreaking, and Sam was forced to say that he was making it all up. This scene was made even more poignant, if that's possible, by Al almost wordlessly telling Sam not to share with Katie what happened to John Lennon. Honestly, I'm dripping tears just writing about it.

In the scenes that followed, Sam for the first time expressed his anger at what God was forcing him to do, to save other people but not the people that Sam himself loved. Al, who had also lost his chance to fix his life with time travel, was the one to remind Sam that God also gave him an amazing gift: the chance to spend Thanksgiving with his family one more time.

Scott Bakula played both Sam and Sam's father. That was okay, but it felt too much like a gimmick. I wonder if maybe some of the scenes might have worked better if I hadn't been distracted by Bakula playing two roles?

That's a nitpick, though. This is an excellent, emotionally resonant episode.

3.2 "The Leap Home, Part 2 (April 7, 1970)": Part two was also terrific. It felt like God was rewarding Sam for his sacrifice in part one by allowing him to save Tom's life. Andrea Thompson (Babylon 5) gave a good performance as dynamic reporter Maggie Dawson, who died for her Pulitzer. It made me think about whether or not it would be worth dying to create something that would live forever.

But I was unhappy that the unsuccessful mission was all about rescuing Al from his POW prison back in 1970. It felt like the writers were rubbing in the fact that Sam and Al couldn't use time travel to change their own lives... except that Sam actually could, this time. Why was Sam rewarded but Al punished? (Maybe I'm taking this too personally.)

3.6 "Miss Deep South (June 7, 1958)": I dislike pretty much everything about beauty pageants, but couldn't help loving this episode. Maybe I really liked the feminist slant, that Sam had to perform well in the pageant so that the young woman he'd leaped into could become a doctor and save a whole lot of lives — or maybe it was that he was also there to save another young woman from making an epically bad choice in life, like his sister Katie.

Okay, okay, it was probably Scott Bakula singing "Great Balls of Fire" while dressed like Carmen Miranda.

3.12 "8 1/2 Months (November 15, 1955)": Another excellent episode where Scott Bakula played a woman, this time an unmarried, pregnant sixteen-year-old girl. I particularly liked the emphasis on how helpless an underage pregnant girl was and how few choices she had back in the fifties. I also want to mention again what a strong actor Scott Bakula is. He's a masculine-looking guy, but he can wear women's clothing, even flowery maternity clothes, and I'm still focused on his performance instead of what he's wearing.

3.13 "Future Boy (October 6, 1957)": Sam leaped in to help Moe, the star of a children's TV show about time travel. Moe constructed a faux time machine in his own basement, and his adult daughter Irene believed that Moe was losing his marbles and wanted to have him committed. Touchingly, Moe built the machine because what he wanted more than anything was to go back in time and be a better husband and father. I don't know whether or not it was intentional, but there was some ambiguity in this Moe situation, since it was pretty clear to me that Moe really had lost touch with reality and should have been hospitalized. But it was still touching that Sam was able to bring Moe and Irene back together as family.

3.22 "Shock Theater (October 3, 1954)": As I've mentioned before, many Quantum Leap episodes feel like homages to specific movies. Here, it was One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, as Sam was subjected to shock treatment against his will, which made him dissociate into various personalities. The best part was that all of those personalities were the real people that Sam leaped into, and that this time, Sam wasn't faking it -- he actually was his leapees: Tom Stratton, Jesse Tyler, Samantha Stormer, Jimmy, Kid Cody.

Nearly every episode of Quantum Leap puts Sam in some sort of danger, but we usually feel that he'll be okay in the end. In this one, it felt like things were spiraling out of control as Sam suffered abuse and was in genuine peril. In the end, Sam was forced to ask for the shock treatment that he dreaded, and he and Al somehow wound up leaping together, leaving us with a pretty serious and unusual cliffhanger.

Okay, there were a couple of problems with this one. Al rapping to teach Scott Lawrence's character to read made me uncomfortable. It was also hard not to wonder what happened to Sam's unfortunate leapee after the treatment, and how unfair that whole thing was to him.

Honorable mention

3.17 "Glitter Rock (April 12, 1974)": It's always fun when an episode features Scott Bakula singing, and for some reason, I absolutely loved the technicolor pseudo-Kiss makeup. But what the hell was Al wearing? A decorative stop sign? Wouldn't that be dangerous if he were walking down a road somewhere?

3.18 "A Hunting Will We Go (June 18, 1976)": It's hard to pull off this much slapstick in a single episode and do it well, but I thought they did: this episode was pretty darned funny. Good job by Scott Bakula as well as Jane Sibbett, who gave a vibrant performance; I always saw her as David Schwimmer's bland ex-wife on Friends, and didn't realize she was capable of stuff like this. I also appreciated the homage to the famous Clark Gable/Claudette Colbert hitchhiking scene from It Happened One Night.

What doesn't work

There are a few weak episodes, but this one's awfulness stood out from the crowd:

3.5 "The Boogieman (October 31, 1964)": This truly idiotic and poorly written episode is about a dream Sam had, while unconscious, of mysterious murders at a Halloween spook house. It included a replica of Al as the devil trying to stop Sam from fixing things while leaping — possibly Dean Stockwell's poorest performance of the series — and a teenage Stephen King with his dog Cujo.

Bits and pieces:

-- Famous people: Jack Kerouac, and as mentioned above, Stephen King.

-- Notable actors: C.C.H. Pounder, Kurt Fuller, and Peter Noone from Herman's Hermits. And Olivia Burnett, who did such a terrific job playing Sam's little sister Katie, also played another little girl named Susan in season two's "Another Mother."

-- Here's a question for those of you better at this online app stuff. Is Quantum Leap available for free at nbc.com (with commercials)? If it is, what did they do about the music replacement issue?

To conclude

I thought season three was good, but not quite as good as season two. And in fact, rewatching season three drove home for me that as a series, Quantum Leap was episodic, not serial. Honestly, I'd forgotten. But as my mother used to say, it is what it is.

On to season four.

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.

[mipsyg]

start-up final thoughts let’s go

i’m gonna list everything i loved, liked and hated. yee, not in that order though i dont wanna end it with negative stuff, so i’ll go, liked, hated and loved instead. 

things i liked:

1. won in jae’s journey to becoming seo in jae again. i have to say i found her character hard to relate to but seeing as she’s the antagonist for a whole part of the show that’s normal. i feel like any kid that loved their father would at least feel some kind of regret if said father died suddenly a little after choosing to go live with the mother. but they never explored that with her.. she was still talking shit about him to her own sister years later for no real reason.... weird ok so yeah moving on.

2. i guess saha (was that even her name??) and chulsan were kind of cute. even if the whole funny comic relief guy relentlessly hits on girl who rejects him cruelly but she eventually sees a soft side to him and starts liking him back is a very tired trope lmao

3. dosan’s parents and their growth together as a family.

4. the whole corporate aspect of the story ksdjskd learned  a lot

things i hated:

1. injae at the beginning jkdjf dkfjdfjkdf she got better later

2. the fucking product placement. holy fuck!!!!!! it was fucking shameless fjkfjfjdkf never seen anything like it. like they weren’t even botherting to be a little subtle.

3. han jipyeong. the dude started okay. he was harsh and stuff but he was more or less, fine, at first.. and then.......... and then!!!!!!!! okidusdsjkdjskd jfkhugdjfdf like first of all, he just started liking dalmi bc dosan liked her first. FJKDJFDKF DUDE GET YOUR OWN GIRLFRIEND LMFAOOO JFKDJFFD also he looked like their dad at times.im sorry but you’re old leave these young ppl alone thnak you. no im just kidding that’s just me nitpicking. no but honestly. what’s so great about this dude?????????? i don’t get it i really dont. all he did was flaunt how rich he is, yell at the poor grandma out of nowhere multiple times, and try to destoy other ppl’s self-esteem constantly. i would ask someone to explain it to me but the truth is that i hate his fucking character and i legit don’t wanna hear anyone talk about him ever jkgkfgjfkgfjkg

4. the fucking letters. FJKDJFKDFJ LIKE??? in what world would some letters from fifteen years ago be so important to someone that they wouldbe like no i dont know if i like this amazing dude that clearly loves and supports me or if i love this dude that i dont know but wrote me some letters when i was a fucking kid jfkdjfkdf absolute non-sense

now moving on onto stuff i loved

1. the samsan tech guys!!!!!!!!!!!!11 i loveeeee

2. every single story line related to the grandma, even the han jipyeong one. he’s an annoying prick but the grandma loves him anyway. incredible. 

3. jipyeong being like “in 15 years i didn’t bother to look for you” in the last episode. LOUDER!!!!!1 LIKE THE DUDE LITERALLY GAVE ZERO FUCKS. he literally just wanted her bc dosan wanted her too that’s literally all it was. and him being sad that dalmi is experienced enough and doesn’t need his advice anymore therefore proving how much of a loser he is lmfaooo anyways he sucks

4. dosan. just dosan. he’s the bestest boy <3 a sweet angel, will smash nameplates of powerful people that talk shit about your dead dad and do absolutely everything in his power to make you happy. bestest sweetest boy,

5. dalmi and dosan. THE CHEMISTRY!!!! THE LOVE!!!!!! the fact that they didn’t stop thinking about each other for the three years they were separated after their break up!!! their amazing first kiss!!!!!!!!!!! the pining of it all. “the reason is you”. the hands!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! how much they care and support each other dkfjkdjskds pls

no but i rly liked how the writers tied up the love triangle in the last two episodes. dosan being like she finally said something about me, she liked my big hands. and jipyeong remembering that the excuse she’s still giving to reject other guys 3 years later!!!!! is that she likes big hands. please!!1that was really good- the hands won over the first love and letters in the end and that was all dosan <333

anyways

dosan and dalmi are in love and successful <3 its what they deserve and yall can rot. next time watch the fucking drama and realise whose love story it is to save yourself the disappointment and tantrums jdksjds xoxo

[dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids]

I Feel Everything [Ch-2]

Fandom- Voltron (D.U.S.K!AU)

Pairing- Klance (Eventually)

Rating- N/A (Seriously winging this monster, I’ll get back to you.)

Lance is a vampire trying desperately to prove he’s worth something despite lacking certain specific abilities vampires of his stature should have.

Keith just discovered he’s a werewolf and he’s not okay with this one bit.

Pidge is  experimenting in magical circuits, Hunk is almost inclined to study her instead.

Allura, Lance’s distant relative, has an age old feud she keeps very politely under wraps with Coran’s help but Lotor might not let her.

And Shiro is… as usual, tired.

Chapter Notes: Rewind: how Keith went from being a generally irritable human to a very confused werewolf.

In which Shiro is odd, Allura is crazy pleasant, and Lotor gives Keith conflicting vibes.

Also Tangled. Because Keith’s dad tried his best.

0-2 Side B (Keith)

If Keith was honest, he’d probably waited way too long to call the cops.

He sat there with the handcuffs digging into his wrists, locking his hands behind his back as he hunched in the sheriff’s department’s waiting area. There was dried blood on his hands and it made him angry just to smell it.

The officer who’d detained him was sitting at his desk with his head back, a balled-up paper towel pressed to his nostril.

He could smell that too.

Last he checked his nose wasn’t that strong before.

“You got knocked out by a kid?” One of the other cops says to officer Nosebleed.

He grits his teeth and mumbles the phrase “Sucker punch.”

Keith never really understood that term. Possibly because most people are too proud to know the difference.

Much like stupid cops who run their mouths about shit they know nothing about.

“I was just trying to file a “missing persons” report you jackoffs.” Keith grunts though he knows no one is paying attention.

“The kid’s got some disciplinary issues, it seems.” One of the cop’s mutters.

“No hun, I’ll be home in another hour or two, don’t worry.”

Keith flinches, looking up to his left where the Sherriff is behind a closed door and talking to his wife on a little cellular phone despite his voice sounding like he was standing right in front of him.

He can smell the turkey sandwich he had that afternoon too.

What the hell is going on.

“He’s been kicked out of how many schools?”

“Heh, I was right then, the dad probably did just get fed up leave him.”

“You didn’t say that to him?”

“…I might have.”

“You deserve that bloody nose Reynolds.”

Keith groaned loudly, hoping to catch someone’s attention though he wasn’t sure what he’d do with it once he had it. When that didn’t work he leaned back, adequately upsetting his arms and proceeded to start bumping his head back into the wall hard enough to be annoying but not hard enough to hurt himself.

“Kogane! Quit that!”

“Make me,” Keith growled.

The cops shot him a look but returned to their whispering.

“The kid clearly has no respect for authority.”

“Do you not remember what it was like at that age? And the kid’s dad just left? Where’s his mom in all this?”

Keith thumped his head back just a little harder, “My dad didn’t leave. He’s missing. Something’s happened to him!”

The cops ignored him.

“His mom left when he was three apparently.”

“Jeesh. So it’s just him now?”

For the love of god, “If you’re going to talk to me like I’m not here at least talk a little lower!” he shouted, he wanted to throw his arms out for emphasis but only succeeded in rattling his cuffs against the back of the bench and wincing as they rubbed against his already injured wrists.

“I just checked we have no record of a legal guardian for him. He’s a ward of the state till someone shows up now.”

“With his history we should take him for a psych e-val. Make sure he’s not dangerous.”

“He’s clearly dangerous, look at me.”

“We can’t lock up everyone who wants to punch you.”

“We can try. And we can start with the ones who did. Besides, it’s just a short stay in a psych ward. He did assault an officer and he has a history of violent outbreaks and depressive episodes.”

Keith saw red.

Depressive episodes?

His dad was a manic depressive drunk in his younger years. Go figure, that can happen when one day you have the perfect life and the next it’s ripped out from under you by someone else’s selfish decisions.

But he’s been better lately. He cleaned up his act. He’d been sober two years.

They were good.

And now he was missing and this garbage office wasn’t going to help him and they were nitpicking through his life and judging him and—

“Come on, we’re going for a ride,” said officer Nosebleed.

“Where?” Keith grits out.

The officer simply grabs him by the shirt collar and hauls him to his feet. Keith makes to bite him—a reflex, he considers, that he wouldn’t normally act on— and the cop snatches his hand back quickly.

“Jeez you some kind of rabid dog!? You wonder why your parents left you.”

Keith barely registers the sound of the other officer sighing deeply before his vision flashes red again.

He isn’t even sure what he’s saying.

Something about ripping the mans throat out with his teeth.

His jaw feels so tense he doesn’t even think he’s bluffing.

He lunges forward, expecting some manner of resistance from the officer but suddenly he’s suspended in the air, someone’s hand gripping the back of his shirt tightly as his legs dangle.

He can see the officer in some manner of suspended animation, prepared to block Keith’s assault but somehow frozen.

“Don’t get used to this okay? You won’t always have time magic when you’re working. This is a onetime occurrence because otherwise we’d have a whole boat load of clean up to do and I am not volunteering for that crap. Hell, I shouldn’t even be wasting my time on you trainees…”

Keith flailed, but the person speaking had an iron grip.

The was someone else there that wasn’t there before though, and this person wasn’t directly behind him so he couldn’t see him.

He was tall, muscular, with a flash of white in his otherwise dark hair, a reddish violet slash mark across his nose.

“Of course, Dante, but why did we come save a human?”

“You’re still blind, aren’t you, Takashi?”

The male with the shock of white hair flushed. The other who Keith still couldn’t see finally started to lower him to the ground.

When his feet touched the ground he immediately spun around and bared his teeth at the man who had so easily held him before. Why he bared his teeth? He wasn’t sure.

There was a smell in the air. Something that made him nauseas. Angry.

Keith’s instincts were screaming to fight.

Then the man he’d accidentally turned his back to reached out a hand and clasped his shoulder.

Keith whipped his head back with a snarl, but the man didn’t flinch, instead his eyes lit on something in his hair.

“Oh. Well. That’s surprising,”

“Get your hand off me.”

Takashi had no problem following directions, but then he caught sight of the handcuffs and glanced at the other male with a slight question in his eyes.

The other man was about as tall as Takashi, but he looked older despite the simple long brown hair and the lack of scars on his face. His eyes were two different colors, one green and one blue and while oddities like this usually caught Keith’s attention looking directly into this man’s face made his blood boil.

“What the hell is going on here?! How did you—how did you freeze the officers?!” Keith shouted, wincing at his own volume as he surveyed the room and realized even the rain just outside the office window had frozen in place.

Dante rolled his multi colored eyes and motioned for Takashi, “This is all you, kid.”

Takashi nodded and turned to Keith, bowing over slightly to make up for their height difference.

“I understand your hearing might be a bit sensitive so I’ll try to keep my voice low, alright?” He started, just above a whisper.

Keith scrunched up his face and fought the twitch, “Back the fuck up dude.”

“Okay well. Right. Uhm…” Takashi looked up at the ceiling, made a very clearly doubtful face and tilted his head from side to side.

The other male threw his hands up, “I am so done with this. I’m not a fucking babysitter. Ian is a one time thing. I’m out of here. You have two minutes before tweedlefuck and whatstheirface start up again.” There was the sound of clock ticking and suddenly the man was gone replaced with the phantom image of a clock face ticking down two minutes.

Takashi’s face shifted completely then, standing up straight and reaching for Keith’s hands. Within two seconds his wrists were unbound, and the other male was ushering for him to follow.

Keith opened his mouth to explain why he absolutely had no reason to trust or follow him but Takashi simply rolled his eyes.

“You can come with me or you can sit here for two minutes and wait to be placed in handcuffs again. Your choice kid.”

Alright. There were two ways Keith could look at this.

This was some sort of dream and he should go with it. Or he had been sucked into some alternate universe and he was doomed and should go with it.

He eyed the cop he was about to murder, pulled back his fist and punched him once more on principle before following after Takashi.

Out on the street Keith could almost imagine things were normal if it weren’t for the fact all of the cars appeared to be parked and there was absolutely no sound.

Everything smelled sterile like someone had opened a bottle of bleach.

He did not like it one bit.

“Good, you followed. Alright. So sorry about acting like a dunce back there, the fastest way to get rid of Dante is to pretend you aren’t worth his time. And honestly? Dante just isn’t good for the reaper image. He’s… well he’s not a reaper, he doesn’t have any sense of diplomacy whatsoever.”

Keith stared at Takashi for a solid minute before abruptly turning around and starting to walk back into the sheriff’s department.

Takashi reached out and grabbed a hold of Keith’s wrist causing the smaller boy to wince, “Whoa—hold on, look, I’ll explain. And—here, let me fix that. Give me your other hand okay?”

This was some trippy dream, Keith decided, if a hot guy was asking to hold his hands a breath after referring to reapers as actual things.

Eh. Might as well go with it.

At least his senses weren’t super spiked anymore.

Takashi smiled at him when he held his wrists before placing his hands beneath them and shutting his eyes.

Keith blinked at this. Hot guy wears eyeliner. Perfectly winged eyeliner.

Yup. Definitely a dream.

Pretty lucid too. Hm.

Takashi opened his eyes and beamed at him, so bright it actually surprised Keith for a second before he realized it was far more surprising that his wrists were back to their milky white rather than the angry searing red they’d been a few seconds ago.

“This some kind of reaper ability?”

“Repairing dead skin cells? Yes.”

“…I’m Flynn Rider.”

“I’m sorry?”

Keith looked to his right and said to no one, “Why does her hair glow?”

Takashi laughed, “Okay. Must be a reference I’m not getting. That’s fine. Just means you’re warming up to me, right?”

Keith shrugged his shoulders, “I think it means I needed that psych eval, but sure. We’ll go with yours.”

Takashi shut his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, “Patience yields focus,” he told himself before quickly looking around and suddenly reaching out and covering Keith’s ears with his hands.

A second later the cacophony of sound started up, the motors of cars on the street, children screaming, birds chirping, but Takashi’s grip managed to muffle a great deal of it.

The scents were back too though. He could smell everything and the only way he could explain it was like someone pouring hundreds of different paints down a single drain and that drain was clogged and bursts of colored paint were being spat back into someone’s mouth.

And. Something awful.

Like. Expired milk.

Keith lurched and reached up to try and cover his nose and mouth at once.

“God what the hell!” He screamed, only managing to rattle his head further.

He wasn’t sure when he ended up on the ground.

“I swear, changelings probably have it better than this…” Takashi mumbled, it was low enough that presumably Keith shouldn’t have been able to hear but focusing on the closest sound was helping drown out the rest.

It still wasn’t enough though.

“Okay. let’s go somewhere more quiet, yeah?”

…

If this is a dream Keith really wanted to wake up. Now.

Sure, he hadn’t reached first base with hot stranger yet but you know what? Keith could deal with that. That was an acceptable sacrifice for all of this to be over already.

He just wanted to wake up and for his dad to be there laughing about how he’d overslept and making them a terrible breakfast and for this entire week he’d been gone to not have happened.

“Takashi…was it…?”

“Shiro, you can call me Shiro,” said the reaper.

“Shiro then…”

Keith sat in his own living room, the blinds drawn and the pleasant if overbearing smell of jasmine under his nose. It was his favorite once, but after this he wondered if he’d ever have a favorite smell again.

“Please… Start over.”

Shiro gave him a sympathetic look as he dragged a blanket off the couch and draped it over Keith’s head and shoulders while he held his bottle of jasmine scented lotion to his nose. Keith eyed him skeptically but Shiro only shrugged, “Blankets are comforting? Kinda?”

Keith sighed but relented and pulled the blanket in close under his neck.

“So, let’s start over,” Shiro began, sitting down on the coffee table and bumping Keith’s leg with his own, “I’m a reaper.”

Keith made sure his cynicism was the most clear emotion on his face. Shiro certainly didn’t look like a reaper. He looked like some J-Pop star equipped with a ridiculous black and white hood to hide away from people who might recognize him.

The other guy, Dante or whatever his name was, he could kind of look like a reaper? At least, he was dressed in this black suit that made him look moderately threatening.

Granted, if Shiro was to be believed, his healing abilities came from being a reaper so maybe they weren’t supposed to be threatening?

Shiro certainly didn’t look threatening. He was just so…comforting?

Keith sighed and tightened his grip on the blanket.

“Okay.”

“Do you accept that yet?”

“Move it along.”

“Alright, so, a reapers job is to travel between the human world and the other making sure lost souls go to where they belong,” Shiro explained.

Keith didn’t like the sound of that, “But you swear I’m not dead?”

“No, you’re not, but you were about to kill that officer so we were alerted to your existence. See, there are two kinds of lost souls. Dead ones and…well, ones that are just plain lost. That’s where you come in,” Shiro explained, broadly gesturing to Keith.

The younger boy raised a brow and slowly turned to look around the house, “…We’re literally in my living room. I’m not lost.”

Shiro blinked at him and Keith could very nearly see the ebbing of his patience. It almost made Keith want to smile.

Instead, he with the magic eyeliner took a deep breath and leaned in closely, “Come on kid. Weren’t you the least bit curious about…?” then he made a broad motion to the sides of his own head

This did not make Keith any less confused, “about…?”

“These?” Shiro grabbed a hold of his ears and tugged.

“Your ears?”

Shiro groaned, “Not my ears, your ears.”

Keith was not following at all.

Suddenly Shiro shifted to do his own quick look around the house before a thought occurred to him, “…When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

Keith shrugged.

“…Showered?”

Keith rolled his eyes, “Yesterday.”

“Did you wash your hair?”

“No, didn’t have the time. Was kind of focused on looking for my dad not making sure my hair was tolerable.”

“…Did you brush your hair?”

Keith felt like he was on some kind of trial now, “Again, really wasn’t focusing on my hair. What is your fixation?”

Shiro took a deep shuddering breath before standing up, “You’re going to want to look in a mirror Kid.”

That really shouldn’t have sounded so ominous, but he did as he was told, shuffling into his father’s room and up to the master bathroom’s sink who’s mirror was still intact unlike his own from an incident a few years back that consisted of climbing out his window (just to see if he could) and his flailing legs when he realized he had no purchase on the porcelain wall.

When he looked in the mirror all he could see was himself draped in the blanket. Sure, he didn’t usually identify with Linus from the Peanuts but there wasn’t anything particularly out of the ordinary about it.

He sighed and glanced around his father’s untouched room. The man had just gone out for chips, to try and give their two person birthday party a little more of the festive feeling. Keith had opted to stay home because, as the birthday boy, he reserved the right to not have to wear pants.

But then he didn’t come home.

Keith had called for a while.

Then started asking the neighbors.

A days later his birthday came and went and Keith started skipping school turning over every rock between his home and the local grocery store. He simply didn’t trust the cops to do their job, especially not when it came to his dad, so he didn’t bother, but when a week had passed he decided he couldn’t just rely on himself alone.

If this was his father two years ago he’d have accepted it, fine, his father had finally abandoned him too.

But that wasn’t who he was anymore.

They had a small tower of films they’d voted on watching, Uno cards and clue set up next to the couch. His dad loved clue, he made up voices for the characters and as annoying as Keith liked to say it was they both really enjoyed playing together. He’d bought an ice-cream cake and said they could both be miserable about it later because they were out of Lactaid pills.

“We ride together, we die together!”

“Do you even know where that’s from?”

“…Some old movie. Your father can’t remember. Cut me some slack.”

Keith’s chest hurt.

Movement in the mirror made Keith raise his head, expecting to see Shiro standing in the doorway despite the fact the other man had made no move to actually follow him and instead saw…

Something moving under his blanket.

Rather, something on his head was moving.

His grip on the blanket went slack and the movement on his head caused it to slip back.

It was dark in his father’s room, but he was able to see them just fine thanks to their movement, going straight up in shock.

Two fist sized furry…animal ears.

“What…in the hell…are THOSE?!”

…

Something should probably be said about how quickly Keith’s mind went from confused to “murder” as he decided this must be some ridiculous horrific prank courtesy of the so called reaper out in the hall.

Hell, what if this whole thing was a prank?

The entire damn week.

Definitely.

How? Keith wasn’t sure. But it had to be. It was time for his dad to come out from behind the curtain and go “How’s that for a birthday huh?” and laugh like a doofus while Keith throttled him.

It was the only plausible option. And it certainly beat the alternative.

He eyed the fluffy triangular shaped…monstrosities on his head and tentatively reached for one with his left hand. It was soft, softer than his hair when it was clean and brushed. In an effort to reign in his sanity he considered dog breeds and what kind of fur the most resembled. Not quite Maltese. He settled on Pomeranian—just their ears though. He always wondered why Pomeranian ears had fur softer than the rest of their bodies, and he figured if these were his new ears then he was officially some kind of Pomeranian.

…

Keith blinked at himself in the mirror, took a deep breath and removed his hand from his ear.

…

“SHIRO.”

The reaper took less than a second to pop his head in through the doorway, “Oh good, you actually called for me, I’d been standing outside for a few minutes I didn’t want to intrude.”

Keith had to fight himself not to clarify that Shiro’s very existence in his life was an intrusion but there were far more pressing matters.

“Explain. Now.”

Shiro blinked at him, then quite suddenly stood up straight rising to his full height, brows furrowed and arms crossed.

Keith felt his throat go dry.

“…Please.”

Shiro relaxed, “Better. Alright. So.” He moved over to stand beside Keith, ducking his head a little as he turned Keith back to face the mirror.

“These are your new ears. Werewolf ears. Because you’re a werewolf.”

Keith blanched, “Uhm?”

That made utterly no sense.

“I’ve never been bitten by a dog in my entire life. In fact, dogs love me, how is that even possible? How could I have missed this!?” Keith croaked.

Shiro made a clicking noise with his tongue before bumping the smaller boys head with his, “No silly, you’re not a changeling, you’re actually a natural born.”

Excuse me?

“So you’re telling me I’ve been a werewolf my whole life?”

Shiro nodded, “Which is probably why dogs love you if I’m being honest.”

“How the hell are people born werewolves? Wouldn’t that mean my family—”

The reaper nodded again, “Yes, exactly. Your mother, I believe, was a werewolf. She mated with a human, you father, which really isn’t the brightest thing one of our kind can do because generally humans just—don’t mix well with we supernatural folk.” Shiro released his grasp on Keith and turned around so his back was facing the mirror now. “Generally when one of us reproduces with a human the outcome can go one of three ways. Option 1- the offspring is still born. Option 2- offspring is physically strong but mentally absent and basically becomes a little raving monster. And then there is option 3, the rarest possibility, you.”

Keith backed up until the backs of his knees found his father’s bed and he allowed himself to fall back onto it.

“I don’t understand…My mother was a werewolf?”

Shiro nodded, furthering the space between them by backing up and leaning against the master bath’s sink.

“Yes, you avoided displaying werewolf traits because you were raised here, in the human world, but after a certain age one’s biology simply can’t fight it anymore. Your birthday just passed didn’t it?”

Keith was going to be sick. This whole thing was insane. Absolutely positively bonkers. Had someone slipped him something? Was he drunk?

“How…How do…So all werewolves have these ears?” It was anyone’s guess why that was the question that came out of his mouth.

“Yes,” Said Shiro.

Huh. Go figure.

“…Then why haven’t I ever seen any?”

Shiro smiled, “Now that’s a good question. You should pack.”

Keith’s brows knit together in confusion, “Pack?”

The reaper stood up straight again and motioned for the door, “Well you can’t exactly stay here looking like that. And just wait till you sprout your tail. Man, I do not envy you.”

Keith felt his eye twitch. Shiro simply motioned for the door again. He was slowly phasing out of “hot stranger” and into “mildly attractive bothersome acquaintance.” And then he looked at him like that, that ‘do as your told’ face that Keith wanted to fight with every fiber of his being but somehow couldn’t.

“…Where are we going?”

“Well, this is the human world. So, by process of elimination we are going to…not the human world.”

…

It takes three hours of cajoling and one utterly terrifying “was that police sirens?” for Keith to finally agree to consider leaving.

He put on a movie for Shiro while he packed despite not having made a decision yet.

“Here, so you can catch the reference I made earlier.”

“This is a princess movie,” Shiro starts as he reads the back of the DVD, the menu screen already lighting up the dim living room.

“My dad is a single parent trying his best. Someone put the idea in his head that I needed a female presence in my life and to make up for his lack of game he decided to Disney his way out of it. I also have Frozen.”

“What’s Frozen? Sounds…Cool.” Shiro grins.

Keith falters, blinks at Shiro for a solid two minutes, then turns on his heel and goes back to what he was doing.

He shuffles around the main room of the house for a few minutes, eyeing miscellaneous objects as he fingers the strap of a duffle bag he used for the gym.

He really isn’t sure what he should be packing, or how long he’ll be gone. Shiro had basically given him a crash course in the supernatural explaining there are three other worlds full of creatures and monsters straight out of Halloween Town.

Well aside from the fact that werewolves are people with wolf ears? Does he have a werewolf form where he’s hunched over and covered in fur, half man half beast?

Shiro had said no, they turn into full on wolves though he’s seen some do partial transfigurations when not requiring the use of their full wolf forms, Shiro also said that was tricky.

But whatever, that was going to take a whole lot longer to get used to anyway.

No, Shiro had explained some next level biblical shit like “World Below” and “World Above.”

Apparently World Above was like some elitist club you could only get into if you knew a guy or slipped the bouncer a hundred.

Meanwhile World Below was some sort of cluster fuck of “the darker brood” to use Shiro’s exact words.

“It’s actually where I’m from,” He’d said proudly.

Keith had grimaced at him.

“Creatures dealing with death tend to be down there. It doesn’t make me evil or anything.”

Suddenly the idea of Shiro being evil and trying to lure him to his death occurred to him, but Christ he had wolf ears what the hell else was he supposed to do but listen to the stranger who smiled at him like he wasn’t the throw away failure everyone else made him out to be.

The third world was some Fuckery code named “Illusions” which was just a round about way of saying “Limbo” in Keith’s opinion because apparently Illusions was some kind of clusterfuck with werewolves and vampires and witches and all sorts of shit that made Keith kind of nauseas.

“The Grim actually lives in Illusions, I’m training to replace him which is how I ended up here with you. But I don’t worry about that a lot, there are like. Four other people in line ahead of me for that spot so I mostly just go through the motions.”

Keith had eyed him curiously, “So do you spend hours talking others into following you on a regular basis or…?”

Shiro smiled, “While I do enjoy the time away from Dante, nah. Guess you can say I took a special interest in you.”

Keith flushed.

Shiro then proceeded to beautifully dodge any and all implications.

And now he was sitting on Keith’s couch watching Rapunzel sing about her boredom.

“This blond chick is my kindred spirit,” Shiro announced to no one. “She’s also hella talented,” he whistled, “Tell me someone realizes how positively gifted this girl is? Like they’re not just gonna make her the vapid love interest, right?”

Keith bit back his retort that, as this was a princess movie, the male was usually the vapid love interest but instead he mentally sits on the fact that he really can’t fathom how his life brought him to this point.

“Are you done packing? I’m not expected to watch this whole thing, am I?” Shiro glanced over at Keith’s virtually empty duffle bag and sighed deeply, “Keith…”

The boy shook his head, “Hey, Tangled is actually a pretty good movie. Like. It’s funny. Just deal with the singing.”

“Keith pack. And I have no problem with the singing. I love singing. You should hear my Car-aoke.”

Keith has no words to respond to that one and so he turns to walk towards his room where he’ll actually have real things to pack but before he disappears into the hallway he glances back at Shiro who is still leaned over the back of the couch, one arm dangling off the side. When Keith had voiced certain concerns during their three-hour discussion Shiro had made certain promises.

“You’ll really help me find my dad?”

Shiro’s eyes softened at the repeated question, “I’m a reaper, so generally, I’d know if he was dead. And I have a certain amount of reach. So. Yes, I will do what I can to help you find your father.”

“You promise?”

Shiro’s eyes retained their softness though he tilted his head and his smile took on a certain ‘we’ve been through this’ air but he nods.

“And you’re sure your…witch?” Keith continues, his weight heavy on the foot closest to the hall as he tries to remember what Shiro said earlier, “…witch friend can make it so I’d know if my dad ever comes back on his own?”

The reaper rolls his eyes but his expression remains fond as he turns back to the television set, “She’s a vampire actually. But yes, I’m pretty positive there’s some blood magic for that.”

Keith takes a deep breath but nods as he finally makes his way down the hall.

…

When he’s done packing the meager proof of his existence he can hear Shiro singing along to “I’ve got a dream.” His voice actually isn’t half bad if Keith is being honest, but he’s decided he’s absolutely not going to indulge Shiro in this simply on principle.

He sits down next to him on the couch anyway and leans his head back against the couch.

“Oh! Done already Keith?”

He nodded.

Shiro grinned, “And by the way. You are not Flynn Rider. He’s too smooth for you.”

Keith shrugs, “Eugene then.”

Shiro blinks, “Who the hell is—Whatever. Now I’ll just shoot a message to my friend, we’ll cast a little spell and hit the road, yeah?”

Keith nods, slowly as if everything is finally beginning to dawn on him, the idea of leaving home, still not knowing where his father is, a creature called a reaper and his own messed up biology…

He looks at Shiro and expects some weird glowy magic show. Instead, Shiro reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out what looks like it could have been a cell-phone in some weird futuristic world.

“…You have cell phones?”

The reaper raises a brow before he starts to chuckle, shakes his head, and focusses his attention on his phone. Quickly he types out a message to what appears to be his most recent contact and doesn’t even put it down to wait for a response. Within moments a small noise like a bell is heard and his cheeks tint just the slightest shade of pink.

Suddenly Keith remembers thinking of Shiro as the hot stranger and considers that he’s probably straight, of course. Then his new friend turns to look at him with the brightest smile on his face and Keith can’t help the small smile back though he’s not sure what they’re supposed to be smiling about.

“She’ll be here in a couple minutes. You’re gonna love her. Everyone loves her,” Shiro’s eyes lit up just talking about her so Keith wasn’t so sure. “Anyway, yeah bro, we have cell phones. Well. I’d have to define ‘we’ really. Mostly I’m just gifted with really smart friends. Matt and Pidge made this, it works between the human world and world below and between Illusions and world below—but they haven’t managed to make it span the human world to Illusions. They’re working on it though so no big deal.”  Shiro slumps back against the couch and glances at his phone screen again, “We’re actually pretty lucky she was trying to visit me right now otherwise we’d be here a bit.”

Keith’s nose picks up something beside the jasmine he’d basically scrubbed his face with. It’s vanilla and clean linens and it also comes equipped with the noise of rustling skirts and…water?

He raises his head and turns to the back of the room. Shiro eventually turns with him and Keith notices in his peripheral how the reapers face practically lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree.

There’s a girl in his house.

A woman, really. Tall, dark skinned, silver white hair cascading down her back in massive waves. Honestly, if Keith were straight he’d probably panic and run from a girl so breathtakingly beautiful. As it stood, Keith was thankfully gay and could happily accept that this was just some kind of goddess standing in his living room, no big deal.

“Hello Shiro—Oh! You’re watching Tangled? Make room!” She laughed in a way that made Keith physically ill because he knew he would never have that kind of heart stopping power.

As she made her way over though, everything in Keith’s system started to shoot warning signs.

And then, like some kind of internal guide, his head screamed, “Vampire” and then immediately after that followed up with “Vampire equals Threat.”

Shiro scooted closer to Keith and pat the remaining space on the loveseat. Since it was just Keith and his dad they never really cared to get anything bigger.

The girl sat down, her skirt, some silky blue thing slipped higher up one leg as she tilted forward, passed Shiro and offering Keith her hand, “You must be Keith, my name is Allura. I hope you’re feeling alright? I understand for half breeds like yourself this kind of transition can be varying degrees of…uncomfortable.”

Keith wanted to reach out and grab her hand, be polite. He wanted to return the kind expression on her face. He wanted so terribly to shut down the screaming in his brain but it just wouldn’t stop and all he managed was to lift his shaking hand and slowly pull it back and further from her palm.

Allura spared him a confused glance for a moment before she seemed to realize, “Oh. Goodness, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m a pureblood so your body is probably heavily rejecting the idea of me, isn’t it?”

Keith swallowed and managed to nod.

“Right then, don’t worry, it’ll pass. Why don’t we just relax for a little bit? We’ll watch tangled, your body can become accustomed and then we can get to work on your blood binding spell, sound fair?”

When Keith only managed to nod again, squeezing himself against the armrest and into the plush leather of the couch, Shiro draped an arm around his shoulders.

“A lot of vampires could be pretty threatening, and werewolves have it ingrained into them to be wary of the species, but I swear on my life Allura here is one of the best people I know okay? So, try not to worry too much.”

“Oh! Oh! This is the best part look at Maximus!” Allura squealed happily in a way that was too smooth to be real.

Shiro blinked back at the screen though he didn’t remove his arm from Keith’s shoulders, “Maximus is the horse right?”

Allura smacked his free arm lightly, “Yes of course Maximus is the horse, have you not been paying attention?”

Keith tried to squish himself further back but when it appeared to be impossible he tilted his head vaguely toward Shiro and tried to make himself comfortable by talking to him again, “How does she know Tangled when you don’t Shiro?”

While Shiro attempts to defend himself and his priorities when traveling the human world Keith is painfully aware of Allura’s soft smile as she leans against the opposite armrest and idly rubs a piece of her skirt between her fingers before casually swiping those same fingers along her lips.

They look wet now.

Alluring.

Huh.

Alluring Allura.

What kind of bullshit.

His attention turns to her skirts and he realizes the silk looks like it’s rippling, water in every stitch.

When she realizes what he’s looking at she shakes her head, “Oh, sorry, don’t worry I’m not wrecking your couch or anything. Just had to bribe a water witch for the portal magic. The skirt is how we’re going to travel once we’re done.”

Keith really didn’t want to know because even with that explanation he doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand. All he can really grasp is there’s water in her skirt.

“…Are you thirsty?” Keith says finally, his confusion winning against his nerves.

Shiro stops short and carefully nudges Keith back into his cowering position, “You never ask a vampire if they’re thirsty, Keith, it’s just not polite. Sorry Allura.”

Allura shook her head, “It’s quite alright Shiro! It’s not like he has any way of knowing. I actually am a bit parched, sorry if that idea frightens you, but you have nothing to worry about, my being a pureblood means I can go ages without feeding and it wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

Keith wasn’t sure why he persisted, but he did, “…I have cranberry juice? If you want some.”

Allura spared him another surprised look before that smile was right back in place, “…I’d love a glass, thank you, Keith.”

This somehow managed to make his mind behave a bit, she had gone from “Threat” to “guest” now that he was trying to play host.

Alright, progress.

…

The spell they placed on the house was incredibly simple. Allura asked for Keith’s hand which, after bonding over the entirety of “I see the light” and their varied degrees of glee in Shiro’s absent humming, was not as difficult a task as either of them had initially thought.

She warned him she was about to prick his finger so when she did Keith didn’t even wince. Then she took his hand and guided the small bloodied spot to press against the wall. This is where Keith finally got his glowy magic light show. Her eyes, a crystalline blue green lit up pink where her pupils should have been. The glow spread to fill her eyes casting long shadows on her face from her lashes as her lips moved but she said nothing. Her hair had even started to lift ever so slightly as if some imaginary wind was brushing against her. But as quickly as it had begun it was over and she was patting his hand.

“There, now if anyone of your blood enters this house once we’re gone, you and I will feel it and we can come straight back here.”

Shiro clapped him on the shoulder and asked him if he was ready to go.

Keith eyed his house a moment longer before he decided he wanted to do one last thing.

He found a sharpie and a scrap piece of sketchbook paper and scrawled in large bold letters: “A Werewolf? Really?” before taking a refrigerator magnet and tacking it up right there front and center.

“Okay. Now I’m ready.”

Keith was not ready.

When Allura’s skirt dropped the water in its fibers Keith panicked for a second, preparing to get the questionable substance on his shoes or something, but instead the water moved like some sentient being. It pooled around Allura’s feet and shimmered with this gold light that made Keith dizzy.

Then she reached for his hand again, Keith looked to Shiro and he nodded for him to proceed.

“Just don’t think too much okay? Portals are all instinct,” He tells him.

Keith looks at the water and figures, that much is fine, instinct is something he can handle.

It’s like jumping into a pool, and then becoming one with the pool. That shouldn’t feel natural but Keith can’t see a problem with it. And then he feels Shiro’s grip on his hand and can practically feel his consciousness pushing him forward.

And then they were standing at a fountain in what was basically an enormous brightly lit orange cavern.

“Alright! Let’s get you settled shall we?” Shiro grinned, not releasing Keith’s hand and moving away from the fountain.

Keith barely has the time to look around when he’s ushered into a building, but he does get the opportunity to smell everything.

And he’s about to be nauseas again.

And the lights are too bright and there is so much noise and it’s so much worse than it was outside the sheriff’s department.

Allura and Shiro must have noticed your discomfort because suddenly they’re whispering among themselves and Shiro guides your hand over to Allura, “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna run to transports and see if someone can help relax you okay?”

Keith doesn’t like this, but his head is pounding so hard and there are a number of strangers around who all smell like the weirdest things—and god he hadn’t even looked at them before the closest person(?) is purple and small and he(?) has huge teeth and he’s smoking something that smells absolutely disgusting and the person they’re talking to smells like roses and looks very much like the rolled out of a bush that morning and wow god this overload of everything needs to stop

And then there’s Allura.

She takes his hand and pulls him close to her, pressing his head into her hair as some of it has found its way over her shoulders.

This is. Actually helpful. She smells strong but it’s pleasant and it’s less confusing than dealing with everything. And her hair is soft.

She ushers him over to a bench and sits with him still pressed into her shoulder softened by the waves of her hair. Her voice is soothing if a little frightening in how he realizes she sounds extremely persuasive, “Shhh, just listen to my voice alright Keith? My voice is the only one you need to listen to. Try to block everything else out.” She’s running her hand through his hair to try and calm him but one of her hands grazes his ear and he flinches so hard she actually jumps. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, I forgot. Shh, I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. You silly wolves and your extra appendages…” she giggles, trying to be clear that she’s joking when suddenly her mirth dies in her throat.

“Princess. Taking in another stray?”

There’s a sizzling in the air and Keith has to raise his head when he feels Allura puff out a heavy breath through her nose.

When he looks at the person who’d spoken his fight or flight response is screaming again.

A million red flags, dangerous, hostile, bad, bad, bad.

Allura doesn’t let go of his hand but her beautiful sea green eyes are narrowed on the man standing in front of the two of them now.

“It hasn’t been Princess in a long time and you know that. Do you need something, Lotor?”

The man simply shrugs his shoulders, “I was just checking in on the transport division as usual. When I felt your presence back here I simply had to come by and say hello.”

“Hello. Now goodbye.” Her voice sounds so abnormally icy Keith can’t help but stare at her.

Lotor, the silver haired male who’s skin is almost as tan as Allura’s (making Keith wonder if all vampires have dark skin rather than the pale skin of their stories) doesn’t move to leave. In fact, he closes the distance between them and bends at the waist a bit so he can be closer to their eye level as he scrutinizes Keith.

“A werewolf?”

Keith can feel the tension in his shoulders when Lotor looks at him.

Allura’s arms are defensively wrapped around Keith now and he has no idea when that happened.

“A half breed…” Lotor continues, a glint in his eye as a smile slowly makes its way to his face.

Allura moves so Keith is pushed behind her ever so slightly as she stares Lotor down, “Put your fangs away Lotor, he’s a child.”

It’s when she says this that Keith realizes that despite her young looks she’s probably significantly older than he is, being a vampire and all.

“Relax Allura, you know I just happen to have a healthy interest in half breeds. Human crosses are even rarer. How’s about it child? Would you ever like to come chat with me?”

Keith grits his teeth. He doesn’t know Lotor or why Allura seems to dislike him so much but his instincts are definitely telling him the man is trouble.

The boy opens his mouth to respond when he gets a whiff of the other vampire. He smells like earth. Like a cabin during rainy weather. It’s calming. And this thought alarms the hell out of him.

It silences him however.

And Lotor gets a good solid look at his face, and his eyes, blue green like Allura’s, appear to soften right in front of him.

If Allura notices she says nothing.

“What’s your name wolf?” Lotor begins almost softly, “Mine, as Allura here so crassly announced to you, is Lotor. First and only son of Zarkon and Honerva. Understand you are under no obligation to grant me your name however it would be much appreciated.”

Keith hates how much he actually wants to tell him.

“Honestly Lotor who still goes by those silly rules…” Allura mumbles though to contradict her statement she does look down looking vaguely ashamed.

“A named thing is a tamed thing Allura you’d be wise to remember that,” He extends his hand to Keith, still too soft, still too patient.

Keith stares at the hand unsure if he should be offended by it or intrigued.

“Ah! Lotor!”

At Shiro’s voice Lotor’s eyes immediately harden and he retrieves his hand, “Takashi. A pleasure.” Keith wonders why the vampire is clearly lying when one look at Shiro tells him the feeling is mutual.

“It’s nice to see you, I see you’ve met my new friend. Did he tell you his name?” Shiro asks casually though there’s an edge in his voice.

Lotor sighs, “No, and that’s fair, he doesn’t have to. I was just on my way out.”

“I’m sure you were, happy trails Lotor!” Shiro says with too much enthusiasm.

Lotor spares Keith one last glance that Keith can’t help but return, unsure why the vampire draws his attention so much. He bows his head, says goodbye, and is gone in the blink of an eye. As soon as he disappears the rest of the scents in the room are painfully present again and Keith is shuffling around Allura to see where he could have possibly gone while trying to ignore the twisting in his gut at the unpleasant assault to his senses.

“He teleported Keith, we vampires can do that for places we’ve seen before. He’s very much gone,” Allura explains.

“This the guy?”

Keith realizes then that Shiro didn’t return alone. Behind him is a thin blond with lightly sun kissed skin and eyes the color of fresh blood. Keith takes a small amount of joy in noting that the boy appears to be shorter than him but around his age.

“Yeah, I just need you to give him a bit muddle how much of his senses he actually registers. That’s a thing you guys can do right?”

Allura looks put out by the presence of the blond but she still relaxes enough to let Keith go. “If you were just going to do that I could have kept talking…” Allura mumbles to no one in particular.  

He’s not sure how much he likes any of this though. The blond moves forward and Shiro kneels next to the bench, a comforting hand on Keith’s knee, “This is Angel, your instincts don’t know him like they know vampires, but for full disclosure, he’s what is generally referred to as a devil.”

Well that sounds comforting.

“He’s not a bad guy though. And I mean, really, he’s just a kid.”

Angel, who’s face is directly in Keith’s line of sight, rolls his eyes, “Yeah well this kid didn’t have to take time from his work to help you with your hobby dude.”

Shiro smiles and playfully nudges the blond who ignores this and instead ushers Shiro’s hand out of the way, so he could sit beside Keith.

“I’m going to touch you okay?” explained the blond.

Keith nods and Angel motions for him to lean forward, his hands open.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m basically going to lower your sensitivity. Imagine your senses as a string tied to your mind that is currently tied very, very tight. It’s this tension that’s causing you to get sick and to feel as poorly as I’m presuming you do. I am going to loosen that string, allowing you to go about your business for a little while without the pain. But be aware, this works kind of like that disease that lets people not feel pain. Just because you don’t feel it doesn’t mean nothing bad is happening.”

Shiro and Allura exchange looks. Shiro speaks again, “It’s not exactly like putting your hand on a stove and not realizing its burning. These are just sounds and smells.”

Angel spares him a bland expression, “It’s a basic disclaimer dude, I don’t know what kind of bullshit you’re gonna get into I’m just covering my bases. Keith, yeah?”

Keith blinked at him.

“Just don’t blow out your eardrums cause the world felt quieter and then come blame me, yeah?”

Keith is really unsure how he could ever, but nods anyway. Then Angel puts his hands on either side of his head and stares deeply into his eyes for a moment.

Keith thinks Angel looks almost more human than Allura and Shiro despite neither of them having features nearly as odd as bright red eyes.

Speaking of, those eyes shut and for a moment Keith is heavily overwhelmed by the noise and the smells and Angel smells like apples and caramel and something a little more grounding.

And then it all stops.

A moment after that he can hear Shiro and Allura, and Angel’s pulse with his wrist so close to his ears, but everything else is in hushed tones as he’d imagine an office should sound like.

He almost feels normal.

Angel opens his eyes and releases him, “Remember that its temporary, you should go find a quiet space to get used to your new abilities.”

Shiro takes the conversation from there, clapping Angel on the shoulder and stating his gratitude. Angel shrugs, “No big deal. You owe me one though.”

“Fair.”

“You’re taking him in right?”

“Of course.”

Allura smiles and reaches her arms around Keith again, “We’re going to have so much fun! I’ll tell you all about the world and what I know about werewolves—which isn’t a lot if I’m honest but!” Keith knows she’s just trying to be positive and encouraging and he appreciates that.

Angel leaves with a simple wave, presumably to get back to work.

Shiro disappears again, saying something about paperwork and Allura spends the time pointing at random strangers and whispering details about their races and what they could be doing in a government building. Keith also learns that in this case ‘government building’ means ‘witch building’ as the witches were the government.

He also learns, from the people who wave to Allura as they filter in and out of the building, that she is fairly well known. He doesn’t ask her about Lotor’s princess comment.

When Shiro returns he gives Keith the game plan, they’re going to go back to his place, camp out, work on getting Keith used to his new surroundings and new ways of registering his surroundings, and then Shiro was going to set Keith up with a friend of his in Illusions, a werewolf and his sister so that Keith could learn first hand about his mother’s people.

Honestly, Keith isn’t all that inclined to leave Shiro’s side, he and Allura were the ones who were going to help him find his father.

But he figured, he’d cross that bridge when it came.

…

[somedaypast-thesunset]

so hes essentially stopped having sex with me. physical affection is like.. few and far between. and i guess, thanks? i guess? like step up from my oshawa ex for sure - he fucked me until i left. so like, thanks? thanks for not just using me? 

i tried to be more understanding like maybe this is just how he feels right now but these little things managed to add up and with his refusal for sex ... i mean, he’s not “refusing”. i dont really come on to him. the last time we did have sex it was pretty bad. like bad enough both of us admitted it was pretty bad. i thought maybe that had something to do with it.

but he started nitpicking and being rude about it. like leaving my shoes at the door - which he does everyday all day; but it’s not my house and i should be a perfect guest always and if i’m not, it’s disrespectful. he suggested that i gain weight - jokingly mind you, but not really. finally he told me to “put money aside” to pay for myself at meals with friends because it made him uncomfortable. then suggested that “instead of not going at all” i run a tab with him and keep track of everything he buys me. 

i told him no thanks. i dont want a walking credit card. i never wanted that. that doesnt make my life any better at all. its more uncomfortable for me that the guy whos dick i suck makes me pay for all my meals. and i get it - he doesnt need to cover all of them. but holy fuck what kind of relationship is it that you cant even go out because your partner wont pay for your meal? your partner ho makes more money ad has more disposable income than a majority of our peers. 

i just thought it was really careless to make a suggestion like this when i cannot afford to eat out. period. thats not a luxury i can have right now and u know what? THATS OKAY. holy fuck, of all the luxuries i dont need and am not going to die from; it’s that. i kept thinking it was like a keeping up th the joneses kind of thing. like i’m paying to go out to eat food not to eat food but to prove i can afford to go out and eat food to a group of people. i PREFER to live frugually. even hen i have OTHER PEOPLES MONEY i try to save and be frugal for them because i feel disgusted hen a large amount of money is wasted. ive had dozens of opportunities to spend his money hoever i wanted and continually chose the cheapest option. only recently did i start choosing take out options OVER 10$. like i was literally choosing anything under 10$ so i wouldnt be a burden while his meal ould be 20 -25$. 

he tried to be friendly afterwards but i felt like it was a final straw. its never a discussion. its just hurling insults at me and completely disregarding the reason why i have suh little money. my entire being is dedicated to not being brought down by him ad people like him in the interim of hopefully making my life better. like if i cant get through this then i dont even have a hope of it being better and apparantly “this” is being shit on over and over and over again. i just.. i dont care anymore. he was really just annoying me at this point. im tired of being made to feel super poor. like no one else does this to me. i do manage to take care of myself a good portion of the time and most know where my money goes. im tired of having to give myself a pep talk to feel better about myself because hes made me question my value and worth. 

last night i slept crammed against the wall. literally. and hes come to a point he feels this is appropriate because sleeping together is such a hassle for him and it just reminded me of my abusive ex. but then he decided to jack off beside me first thing in the mornig and i was done. like i guess im very hard headed but hey - i get it now. i’m nothing to you. i dont deserve anything. i dont deserve to wake up peacefully, a good morning - nothing. all i deserve is to ake up to some disgusting man jacking off beside me. i got dressed, gathered my stuff and left. i said nothing to anyone, i just left. cuz hat the fuck is the point? i felt like a little “guilty” that this would create anxiety for him but who the fuck even cares? i dot even want to have a conversation with him because i dont have conversations ith him i just listen to him. there is no back and forth, no discovery or discussion. its just me listening to him. so why fucking bother. he knows i wouldnt leave unless i was upset so the “point” is made but i have no point. i’m just done, i think? i think you know youre the most done when words are not useful anymore ad like there is nothing i want to discuss. i dont even ant to tell him what a shitty person hes been. all it leads to is guilt and pity and sticking around because he thinks hes supposed to. i want to be with someone who wants to be with me. but like that never happens. no oe ever wants to be with me. they want to be ith some other perso but i’m good enough. and it sounds very woe is me but this is the truth. ad i am an attractive nice person. i am very caring and loving and loyal. i am a great girlfriend. but no one ever wants to actually be with me. theyve always wanted someone else, someone else is always actually “the one” ad theyve either gotten away or they never got a chance and now they’re just stuck with _me_. my first “love” was already in love ith someone else but it as never going to happen (and hen he thought it as going to it didnt and he still came back to me and that is not even a bonus thats just proving my point). my second, still enamored with his ex he never fully proved cheated on him but he thought she did (but u know maybe she didnt). and all the men in between - they wanted someone else. they predictably ended up with a few of the someone elses. and right now is just repeating this scenario. 

and you know, i come across these dudes and they tell ME they love ME. i would never dare utter such words to these people and give myself like that unless it was very important for me to do. like if i as a year into it and no one said shit and i felt strongly about it, then maybe i would but i dont even offer this to close friends. love is the most serious. 

but they tell me they love me. and all i want is love. i dont even want necessarily to BE LOVED but i would like love to exist in my life in a very pure and geuie ay that ive witnessed with others. its not like i need love and attention from all these people. i dont need love to be validated as a person. i can be without love temporarily and move forward in life. i have less sources of love than many people ad im not actively seekig it from dozens of people. but if someone asks me what do you want? perhaps i want money and security. this ould be high on the list. but i think most of all i want love. i want to experience love. my parents did not love me. or maybe my father did but i dot think he was wholy capable of giving pure love. these are perhaps the people who should be my pillars ad theyre not ad everyoe else got to experience love - not eve sexual love. its not eve sexual. its not romantic. everyone aroud me has bee able to experience pure true love of some form and i feel like i have not. like theres nevere been a single stable source of love for any length of time in my life.

and society is tryig to fill this void with medication and money and everything else but actual love an like i guess its hard not to believe that im undeserving or incapable of feeling love or receiving love. and i think this is like a top 5 survival need. like food, water, shelter, love. maybe this is the intricate part of the human experience and we so easily cover food and water and shelter now for many people but you canot cover love. you cannot package it into a goverment subsidy and yet so may people suffering have lacked love. and this pushes them to drugs and alcohol and they suffer from depression and obesity and they eat themselves to diabetes and they let their feet rot off their legs because no matter how hard they worked, no matter all the good deeds they did; they never fully received their dues in love. they suffered ad struggled alone an family ad frieds and relatioships left them but hey - they made some money. and thank god they didt just “live on welfare”. but its like - if someone did not have food or water or shelter, you ouldnt immediately offer them a job to solve the problem. there is a immediate need that has to be filled before they can help themselves. you have to give them food so they can work. if no one cares, why the fuck should they? like you’re noteve a person you’re just “the homeless” now. and like everythng of your life is referred to as “the homeless” life now. 

im surrounded by people who have been given a lot of love in their life. even though theyve become blinded to their priviledges, theyve been given so much love. they are spoiled. they cant eve see the love thats being given. i argued with a mutual fried about another; she said it was rude to say this fried ould always be there heever she needed it and not show up. i told her isnt it enough to know in your soul this person wants that so badly for you but real life dictates differetly? like the love is there. the intention is there but real life doest allow it. she couldnt see the love. 

and i guess maybe some of these people are so spoiled that they dot understad the importance of something that is like breathing air to them. they probably believe i can get love elsewhere, just like they do. they are rich in love. but its the same thing - if someone tells me they love me, i actually believe they love me. well, i want to believe. 

i also believe this problem is “easily” solved for women by having children. children are a constant source of love and hen they turn out not to be, it’s ground shaking. mothers dont kno how to go on. but i believe, even in solid relationships, that children come from a desire to give and receive love that is not currently in their life. maybe i dont understand a maternal instinct. perhaps maternal instinct is this. maybe its kicked in and im too logical to understand that its not that “easy”. neither are relationships, and at least your kids legally arent allowed to abandon you. but i think this is why, especially with young mothers, theyre inclined (if single) to sort of “lose focus” on their children when a new man enters. suddenly, especially ina “honey moon phase”, theyre receiving a ton of love. more love and attention than their children, of any age, can probably give them. 

i have little expectations with love. i mean, i assume if you “love me” you wont be cruel or malicious. like, you wont try to harm me. thats what i expect. i dont even expect NOT to be harmed. i may be harmed. thats involved in love. you cant feel such strong things for someone and not be harmed somewhere down the line. it could be big or small; someone will eventually feel bad but then it’ll probably be okay again. however someone gives love, i try to receive it as is without shaping it to what i believe is right. love is abstract; you accept it as is but we all want to read into it and find the deeper meaning and stories and little things involved but in the end its just a very abstract concept hich encompasses a wide range of emotions and psychological things. you cant really say, “if you loved me you would do this or this”. its like you are the artist and love is your paint and the world is a canvas. you cant tell picasso how to paint. that only fits your mold. we liked picasso because of how he expressed it, how he painted it - not how you shaped his painting to your liking. 

and like youre allowed to not like someones painting - someones expression of love. and some people, they suck. like they just outright suck ass they need to go back to basics and start over before they unleash anymore of their “artistry”. and some people are offensive. some people create offensive things and this thing might hurt people or make people uncomfortable. most people ask to have their “art” - their “expression of love” taken seriously. however good or bad it is, it’s theirs and this is how they see it. but its like, i dont have to buy a jackson pollock and hang it on my wall because i respect his expression. i dont have to have sex with a woman because i respect homosexuality. so you can accept, respect and walk away from someones expression. it doesnt have to be for you. you can even have the freedom to speak about your feelings of this expression for yourself but you cant dictate how someone else should feel. 

i guess my situation is many of these men bought a picasso - or tried to, and for whatever reason, it’s not aroud anymore so they’ll accept a pollock in its place because i mean, he’s still “pretty good”. 

but you know - at the same time, it’s okay. this isnt a unique situation. this is very much part of the human experience. everyone at some point will feel this way to some degree. i just happen to feel it really strongly right now because of my circumstances in life. its like taking shrooms and one perso is cool ad another trips badly; theyre just not in the right place in the right way to experience this thing of life.  thats me right now. i wasnt prepared for this trip ad its pretty never ending. its like a really long road trip in fear ad loathing but its like 10 years of sitting ith johny depp and youve foud out he beats his ife and is a severe alcoholic and its just... overwhelming. 

so i dont know. i need to really accept and take this knowledge seriously. im proud that i just left because ive stayed too many times. i thought about it an had my guilt and ould stay for my shitty ride home and get my “daily kiss” and its just like.. i no longer hate myself this much. i can do better than this scenario. its not even a personal insult to him - his personality is cool. as a human, great. but the scenario we have created - WE, okay. not him. this is a joint effort where i allowed someone to treat me like this with full knowledge that it was bullshit. no one held me hostage and it wast like i just became a personal slave to him. but its like, i even explained it with drugs. once you allow yourself to normalize gross things, its not hard to become a junkie. like if you decide smoking crack or injecting drugs is the worst shit but suddenly you’ll smoke meth and you’ll inject a “safe” drug like k but “not heroin”. this is the “gateway effect”. so we normalized this really shitty behavior ad made it easy for him to fall into habits of doing things others would (and have) walked away from. 

you know, i hate that he makes future plans and none of them involve me. ever. but he tells me he loves me. and its like, i dont even have anxiety about whether or not ill see him today. i kind of hope i dont. i think itll be easy to assume im upset he “wont buy me food anymore”. but i really just.. we are on two different planets. equally confused by each others wants and needs. i dont eve want a conversation because if someone doesnt have the desire to be affectionate with me why bother asking.