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queensgaybeach1d · 5 years ago

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HELLOOO, I just discovered your blog, shame on me. So, I read your masterpost about the stunts in the industry (great work btw) and was wondering how to tell if something is real or purely pr. Would you mind giving me a few pointers ?? Answer however and whenever you can.

Hello Sweetie,

Thank you so much for your lovely words. I would love to help you dig deeper into the PR industry. In fact, I did some research myself and I stumbled upon a great confirmation on how everything works. I think it is just the right fit for you, sweetheart.

Please take your time reading the post and if you have any questions or suggestions, please do not hesitate to ask me. Have a great day and enjoy!

Kisses,

Suman 😊

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How to spot a PR relationship?!

This post is made for everyone who would like to learn how to spot a fake relationship in Hollywood. This information is supported by a very reliable source. The name of the source is Jack Ketsoyan, he set up two PR relationships himself. If you would try to compare this to your favourite Hollywood couple, you might be surprised of the outcome. I wish you all the best while reading this and if you have any questions/suggestions please do not hesitate to ask. Enjoy! :)

This is the link of the podcast about the PR relationships (skip to 5.40). I will make a little summary of the very important things Jack said. There is also another man who is speaking about this subject. His name is Christopher and he is a lawyer who has worked with cases like these for a long time.

(Please note that I am in no way hating on anyone. I have a strong dislike for all ‘’beards’’, but what they do with their lives is their responsibility. Therefore I mean no harm to any of these people. It would be very sad if any of these people would do it because they needed money for their families. If that was the case I would truly feel sorry for them, but the thing is they want to become famous by dating someone else who put his/her hard work in his/her career. That it just not fair. There are plenty of ways to become famous by dedication, hard work and staying yourself.)

I want to give compliments to the lovely @Totallylost4you on twitter. She made me aware of the podcast.

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-’’To hide the artist’s sexuality; boosting of the careers.’’ --> (Louis, Harry, Zayn, Liam and Niall. Also, Kristen Stewart, Cara Delevigne and Taylor Swift) -->

‘’It is more common on the male side than on the female side. There are certain celebrities who were, back in the day, in the closet and it was not okay to be out. We live in a completely different time nowadays, these days being gay is okay. So back in the day that was the biggest secret, it was a big taboo, if a certain high profiled male, the heartthrob is all of a sudden gay, they were not going to get the bigger roles anymore. They were going to be type casted, so that was the big way of hiding things. Them hiding their sexuality was dating a female who would keep them in the limelight basically and cover it up.’’ [about closeting] ‘’Times have changed, it still happens, but a lot has changed.’’ --> There are still people who would not like attending a Harry Styles (the heartthrob) concert when he comes out as gay.

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-’’To be able to sell the hype of it.’’ --> (Whenever a picture of Taylor and Tom or Louis and Eleanor comes out, people are quick to retweet, post and talk about what happened. Within no time the pictures have traveled through the internet. Which automatically means that a lot of people have seen it. All of this gives the label/couple/artist attention and money. --> Whether it is bad attention or good attention, attention means money.) a few examples of these couples are also: Haylor, Zigi and Elounor.

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-’’To sell tickets to concerts or movies.’’ --> 1D world tours and solo tours. That is also why beards like Camille Rowe, Eleanor Calder and Maya Henry attend their concerts. As for movies think about Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart (who is gay) fake dating, moments after Twilight came out. Think about 1D bringing their fake girlfriends to the world premiere and Zayn and Perrie getting engaged a second after. The purpose of these events are attention. Sweethearts, whenever people go to these shows/movies all they will focus on is 1D and their ‘girlfriends’. Photos will spread faster than ever and people will talk about how ‘real’ they are. Their aim is to kill two birds with one stone; making them look like a ‘real’ couple whilst promoting their movie/album.

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-’’To sell albums.’’ --> (Zigi, Chiam, Elounor, Hamille, Nailee, Haylor.) Let us be honest, are they not the biggest reasons why antis buy the album? Just to see what stuff they write about their fake girlfriends/boyfriends. Just to see how ‘Camille’ pronounces ‘’Coucou’’or just because Gigi Hadid starred in Zayn’s music video. Or maybe to finally know the ‘truth’ about Taylor’s fake relationships.

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-’’It's all about the hype at the moment. Especially with the social media world.’’ --> I am going to point out an important thing Jack said. He said ‘’especially with the social media world.’’ Remember when there were only rumours of Louis and Eleanor being back together? The whole fandom tweeted about it. This made it popular and that was the solid moment 1D’s label knew that Elounor 2.0 would do it for them. They would earn a lot by it. The same thing counts for Zigi, Chiam, Haylor, Hamille. Hamille is a good example too. When all of you heard that Harry wrote a song about her and that her voice was going to be included in his song, what happened? Exactly, everyone went nuts and made sure to listen to that exact song. That is exactly what they want. They want that power over you, that is what gives them the money. Another example, how fast do you think solo Zayn stans and Directioners tweeted about a ‘power couple’ when the news broke that Zayn and Gigi are ‘expecting a child’? How fast did people open their social media accounts when Kylie Jenner was pregnant for the Kardashian’s 10th anniversary? (Social media does A LOT. Whenever a picture of Eleanor (beard) and Clifford (Louis’ dog) arrives on the internet, people automatically assume they are together in a room. This, is not the case. That is how convenient social media is to arranged relationships. Why start a rumour by hiring newspapers instead of posting a message on social media? It is much cheaper and more people will know about it in less than four hours.)

Promoting certain brand like Coca Cola (Elounor), YSL, Gucci, Vogue (Zigi) and Hugo Boss are also a part of it. Celebrities wearing those brands make their fans want to buy it too, think of the Kardashians promoting Adidas and other expensive brands. Also think of people like Briana Jungwirth promoting flat tummy tea. This is called ‘celebrity branding.’

Tell me, how many times do you get HQ pic of your PR couple on your phone? People tend to go out of their mind when pictures come out. That is the immediate effect Hollywood has on social media/ you. That gives them the promo they need, even during quarantine the beards post pictures of themselves, making you think they are together when in reality they are not. :)

{About why Jack hooked an arranged relationship up himself} --> ‘’It was more of a mutual agreement between the agents. {Tells a story about an actor getting bad reviews for a movie and in order to let people focus on something else they got the actor a girl, so the media would focus on the girl instead of the bad movie.}’’ --> ‘’Just a one year deal. Basically they finished of the press and the international press and then they went their separate ways, because she did not want to do a two year deal.’’ {interviewer asks if it worked} --> ‘’It worked.’’ --> A few examples of (approximately) a one-year deal: Calvin Harris and Taylor Swift, Niall Horan and Hailee Steinfield and Louis Tomlinson and Danielle Campbell. It is also good to point out that the beard can decide whether she wants to continue or not, but the celebrity has to do what the agent arranges.

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{Interviewer asks what reasons people might have to agree to one of these PR relationships} --> Different reasons, that could be to deflect attention away from a controversy (damage control. think of something Larry or Ziam related happening and the next day Zigi and Elouno are papped. Or fans finding out Louis is in the same country as Harry and the next day they will let Elouno do a pap walk. Another example is when Ziammies find out a Zigi picture is photoshopped, the next day you will see Zigi in person. This happens when their stunts fail). So if an actor has drugs and alcohol problems they may want to give the appearance that they have settled down and are in a committed relationships so that they can banked for films. Or they are going to be able to get bonded and get work and people will trust them, because they have settled down. It also could be done to create a brand. Two celebs getting together and 'now there's this tremendous interest about them being a power couple.' [...] We create strong provision against the disclosure of any negative facts against the celebrity - with consequences. So these agreements need to be structured with a hold back of money so that over time if they have complied with the agreement and not disclosed ehh no personal information and violation the agreement then they would be entitled the payment, so under the agreement. " --> The last part might be difficult to understand, because the lawyer uses difficult words, but what he is actually saying is very important. He says if the celebrities who are in the PR relationship have done their part (parading around with each other) then they will receive their money (please correct me if I am wrong). The host also confirmed that contracts like these are the reason why a lot of celebrities do not admit they had a PR relationships.

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Clues on how to spot a PR relationship:

-‘’The main clue you would see is if, you know, a certain high profiled male is dating a female (or when a high profiled female is dating a regular male), who was not high profile. All of a sudden, she is, overnight, the most talked about girl in Hollywood and everyone want a piece of them. That is the biggest thing, you know, it is such a career boost for the female that some females end up taking the deal.’’ --> Zigi, Elounor, Chiam, Brouis, Haylor, Taylor and Calvin. How does the world know Eleanor Calder? Because of Louis Tomlinson. No one knew her before, except her family. How did Gigi gain so many followers? Because she started dating Zayn Malik. Gigi already had a platform for herself, but she gained a lot of followers by dating Zayn. Zayn also gained followers by dating Gigi. Gigi needed promo and Zayn was in the spotlight, because he just ‘left 1D.’ This made him the perfect target. I hope all of you also notice that when beards/fake girlfriends post pictures of them with their fake boyfriend, it gets way more likes than their usual pictures.

{What was the benefit for the girl in the scenario?} --> ‘’Ehm, she has a huge career at the moment. She benefit from that by becoming a household name (someone that is well known) and getting bigger roles than she would have. She would use to be the 3rd or the 4th lead in any auditions or any jobs that she was getting. She then became the first lead. She got a great career boost out of it, for sure.’’ --> Gigi Hadid, Eleanor Calder, Sophia Smith, Cheryl Cole, Maya, Camille Rowe and Kendall Jenner are just a few examples.

How did the world know Townes? Because ‘Harry named’ her in one of his songs. How did the world know about Maya Henry? Because Liam Payne started dating her. Before this, she was just a fan. How did Cheryl Cole get the attention back? Because of baby gate and by fake dating Liam Payne. How did Briana gain so many followers? Because Louis Tomlinson fans gave her the attention and because she participated in faking a pregnancy. How did Shawn and Camilla become a couple in the spotlight? Because people have always shipped them, ever since the beginning and their label gave the fans what they wanted. How did Kim Kardashian become famous? A *** tape of her and Ray J leaked and she became famous. Now, she is a lot richer and more famous than he is. A quick note, not many people know how Kim Kardashian became famous. They only really know her from Keeping Up With The Kardashians. The newer generation does not know about the tape scandal, and that is what they do. You need to dig a little deeper to see that. This all is an on-going cycle and it will not stop unless we all stop believing it. 😊

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What do they do in order to make a PR relationship look real?

{Interviewer asks what the clauses in an arranged relationships contract are} --> ‘’An arranged relationship is estranged by definition. So certainly we are going to see requests that are equally odd. They are certainly going to have requirements as to how they hold themselves out to the public as a couple. This would mean appearances at award shows, parties or events together as a couple and that there would be requirements maybe for specific events.’’ --> Eleanor attending Jay’s wedding and being ‘maid of honor’, Calvin and Taylor at Award shows, Elounor at the fashions show 2013, Haylor and their NYE ‘kiss’, Zigi at the MET gala and Chiam at the Brits, celebs at after parties with their ‘girlfriends’. All of these couples have also pictures with each other’s family members. That made a lot of you think they are close and real, well my loves, now you finally know that it is all part of a PR stunt. The fake girlfriends also have to look supportive, that is why they have to be there at concerts, soccer matches, award shows etcetera. 😊

Remember when Eleanor (beard) posted a picture of herself and in the background you could see a picture of her and Louis in 2012 and ‘Louis’ written on a board? Remember when she posted a picture of herself with her and Louis’ boots in the background in 2018? All of these things are there to make it look like they truly live together and that they truly own each other’s stuff. The same thing counts for Haylor’s airplane necklace. Do you genuinely think they did that by accident? No, that is the purpose of the whole picture. 😊

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‘’Then there is going to be particularly some none disclosure issues surrounding them as to what cannot be said about the relationship and what needs to be said. There could be a script even as to what they have to say if asked about the relationships. There would be photo sessions showing them as a couple. And then I have seen issues of sexual relationships and specific whether this would happen or not happen in an agreement. But if it is truly a PR relationships then sex would not be a part of that relationship, because it is not real.’’ --> Loves, do you remember a moment when someone asked a celebrity about his/her relationships and they stuttered and looked uncomfortable, or they just said something wrong or embarrassing or tried to talk themselves out of it? Well, that happens when you have to make up stuff that never happened. Louis Tomlinson confirmed his interviews are scripted, so this one is just an extra thick layer of confirmation. I also recall Gigi doing a live and someone asked about Zayn and she just stuttered and looked away, not knowing how to answer a question. (I think there have definitely been times when two people who were in an arranged relationship gave different answers to the same question, why? Because they do not know anything about each other.) Here is an example of a moment that is repeated and scripted about Louis’ ‘relationship’ with Eleanor, even know we have legit proof that is not what happened:

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Now I can hear all your lovely brains working and thinking whether a celebrity is willing to sign a contract like that or if their label is making them sign it. Well, if you have read my previous masterpost about the music industry you can see confirmations of the label making the artist their puppet. They own you, so if they think you should have a girlfriend to hide gay rumours then they will give you one. ‘A label cannot force you anything’, but it does make you sign a contract. When you sign the contract without reading it carefully, then your label will mess you up. In those contracts they do not write ‘’Taylor Swift has to agree to arranged relationships.’’ They write stuff like ‘’When signing the contract, Taylor Swift allows the label to make changes in order to get her to fame.’’ Of course Taylor (and other artists) would think that they mean changing her outfit and looks, but no. The label thinks being gay is something that will not get people enough fame. So what do they do? They change her, they change her sexuality. They closet her and even though Taylor and other LGBTQ artists do not want that. You cannot deny because when you do so, the label will show you the contract you signed. A contract like that is never written literally, they can manipulate their words. To the label ‘’being gay or a part of the LGBTQ+ community’’ falls under ‘’making changes’’ in order to make her famous. Of course there are celebrities who willingly closet themselves for various reasons. I hope to create a single post about how devious these contracts are for you all! 😊

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Here are a few things I hope you have learned from this: 😊

- Fake relationships still exist and they will always exist. It has been confirmed, so no one can deny this anymore.

- The girl and boy have to go to special events, such as award shows, family dinners and weddings in order to make it look real.

- Homophobia is still a thing and the biggest reason why arranged relationships exist.

- The beard has a contract too, so your idol has no say in how long she can or cannot stay. If she does good then she will stay. (I see many people say that Louis chose Eleanor because they are friends and that is why she is back, but he actually has no say in anything. Your idol is their product to sell. Your idol is basically a marionette.)

-The PR team does everything to make it look like they are truly together, think of photos of each other in each other’s homes and ‘personal gifts.’

-Celebrities get an enormous boost on their social media accounts when they start being part of an arranged relationship. Something I have always thought was a bit odd, is the fact that Eleanor never created an insta account until her and Louis’ ‘relationship’ had its peak; in the middle of June 2012. When in reality, insta was created in 2010. She also created twitter in 2012. Exactly when the first few big events were attended by them. (I genuinely think she did that, because everyone wanted to see more of her. Plus, she has always wanted to be a fashion blogger and this was her ‘big moment’ to do so.)

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The credits for this post go to @Totallylost4you. They made me aware of the podcast and they continue to shine light on hidden treasures like this one. They also hardly get credits for their solid hard work and I hope they will continue doing this! Thank you!

Thank you so much for your attention. If you have any question/suggestion, please do not hesitate to ask/tell me! I wish all of you the best and please stay safe. Have an amazing day!

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arowrimo · 4 years ago

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AroWriMo Week 4 Roundup

It’s the end of the last week of AroWriMo, and time to put all the great works in one place. Read through the other submissions, and support the writers where you enjoy their content!

Play/Script

Leaving: A (very) Unfinished Stage Play by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, direct link (blogspot) Summary: A fractured personal narrative on entering and leaving an unhealthy relationship and the pain of being aromantic without that knowledge. Word Count: 1200 Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Personal CW: Depression, manipulation, unhealthy romantic relationship, processing self-blame

Novels/Novellas

Oh, the truth shall set you free by @amanita-cynth

Summary: “I know exactly four things about Alway.” She said wryly. “She’s 23, a genius, she keeps at least three feet between her and other people at all times, and she can root out the truth like nobody else.” Of course, coming from another profiler, such an assessment carried a lot of weight. Eden Alway, the newest member of an FBI profiling unit, is odd even by their standards. But as they begin to pry more into her life and struggle with some of what they find, her past is racing to catch up with her and drag them into the storm that was her life. Featuring misunderstandings, odd behaviour, the constant problems of amatonormativity, and a rapidly escalating series of bizarre problems that they are in no way qualified for but definitely isn’t magic. Word Count: 11000 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Theme: Fantasy Language: English Genre: Crime, portal fantasy CW: Romance, Violence, Gore, amatonormativity, religious imagery, mild body horror later on, currently a WIP

Lyrics

Embers by @clad-in-sunshine (Wordpress, Twitter)

Post, Direct link (tumblr), Direct link (wordpress) Summary: I’m terrible at picking titles. But I have been enjoying writing songs, and this is one I wrote for AroWriMo and the Valentines theme of ‘Love, Romance and Friendship’ at my local folk club. The middle part is entirely uninteresting to me, so this is more about love and friendship than anything else, and the various forms that can take. The tune is called 'Midnight on The Water'. Word Count: 479 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Language: English Genre: Singer/songwriter, Folk

Comics/Zine

My Aro Heart: A Zine by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: A short zine about loving the aro community. Word Count: 50 Language: English Genre: Zine CW: Love (non-romantic)

Flash Fiction

Self-Reliance by 27twinsister (Ao3)

Post, direct link (Ao3) Summary: Tsubasa likes to be alone. The note contains my headcanons for Tsubasa and what the words mean. Word Count: 161 Prompt: Self-reliance Language: English Fandom: Mahou Sentai Magiranger Genre: Character study CW: None

Non-Romantic Relationships by 27twinsister (Ao3)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Jiro doesn’t know if his relationship with Yuki is romantic. But it’s special to him. The note contains my headcanons for Jiro and what the words mean Word Count: 209 Prompt: Non-Romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Dogengers Genre: Character study CW: Romance mention

Non-fiction

Relationship Anarchy and Hugs by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: Applying relationship anarchy to family relationships and hugs. Word Count: 522 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Defying Expectations Language: English Genre: Non-Fiction CW: consent issues, boundary breaking

Thursday Thoughts: AroWriMo Week 4: Non-Romantic Relationships & Self-Reliance by @sophieakatz

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Word Count: Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships, Self-reliance Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: Romance mention

Poetry

Little Boxes by anon*

Post, Direct link (Google docs) Word Count: 456 Prompt: Freedom Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Poem/non-fiction

To My Dear and Loving... by @writingthingsilike

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Summary: A poem about being aromantic but still wanting a life partner Word Count: 165 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Non-fiction CW: None

AroAce by Catolica (Ao3)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Word Count: 254 Language: English CW: Choose not to use warnings

Care, uncoupled by @graces-of-luck

Post, Direct link (tumblr) Word Count: 149 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Free Verse CW: Romance

Human = ( X - Y ) / Z by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: A poem about human essentialism Word Count: 129 Theme: Humanity Language: English Genre: Poetry CW: Mentions of essentialism and touches on dehumanizing ideas

Short Stories

My Valentine by @bimboztown on twitter

Post, Direct link (Google docs) Word Count: 305 Category: Short Stories Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Coming of Age CW: Suicide attempt mention

Lights, Camera, Aro! by charcharcharace (blogspot)

Post, Direct link (blogspot) Summary: An aromantic actress is conflicted over how to engage with a romantically coded improv challenge. Word Count: 1885 Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Genre: Literary CW: a ghost, pressure.

He Is Mild And He Is Meek by @entity9silvergen (Ao3, FFN)

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: He is mild and he is meek, he is Momo and he is what I seek. Suki always wanted three things in life. One was to become a professional soccer player. The second was to live in a cute apartment filled with succulents. The third was to get a cat. Momo probably wasn’t anyone’s first pick as a pet but Suki was determined to get this cat to love her as much as she loved him. If only he’d accept he had a home now. Word Count: 6500 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender. Characters: Suki, Momo, Sokka, Aang Genre: Friendship, Hurt/ Comfort CW: Mention of sex, non-excessive swearing

sick of all those love songs (sing to me about my friend on the moon). by nwhrs

Post, Direct link (Ao3) Summary: Johnny has always tried to follow the game, Ten has always stood out like a sore thumb, Chenle has always been quite vocal about himself, and Jisung really has absolutely no idea just what is going on (or does he?). And this is just a little part of their story. Word Count: 16413 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Theme: Choosing to be Yourself Language: English Fandom: NCT // Park Jisung, Zhong Chen Le, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Suh Youngho | Johnny Genre: Slice of Life CW: Romance, Discussions of romance & amatonormativity

he loves you (he loves you not) by @ternaryflower53

Summary: "Who's your companion?" the man asks. "This is Jango," he says, not adding his last name. They have a false one, a name Jango sometimes uses in undercover missions when he doesn’t want to risk being recognized as the Mand’alor’s son, but better if they can avoid using it. "He's my husband." The man frowns down at his datapad, then looks up to study Jango. "I wasn't expecting you to come with a partner, Master Jedi." or, jangobi fake dating au, but make it aromantic. Word Count: 6270 Prompt: Non-romantic Relationships Language: English Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy (Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett) Genre: Fanfic CW: Romance, fake/pretend relationship, request to be in a romantic relationship that gets shut down

#AroWriMo 2021 Works #AroWriMo #Writblr #Writing #Aromantic #Aro #Arospec #Aromantic characters #Aromanticism #Roundup #Week 4

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vintagedolan · 5 years ago

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overturned (egd)

ethan’s tried everything to get you to hear him out, and you aren’t budging until a news article on twitter changes everything in an instant

word count: 4.7k

requested by: anon (thank you bby!)

warnings/tags: angst angst angst angst, did I say angst???, but in typical lynds weak bitch fashion it ends up okay at the end 🥴

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

You were running out of counter space, and that was saying something. The kitchen was beginning to smell like a florist shop, rich and beautiful with the number of bouquets. Luckily, they’d all come in vases, or you wouldn’t have had enough containers to keep them in.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang again. You grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, already feeling guilty. When you opened the door, it was the same sweet woman who had been there everyday, twice a day at least, for the last 6 days.

“Hi Mary,” you sighed. You’d begun a bit of a friendship with her, the exchange of her handing over the flowers commonplace now.

“Hi Ms. Y/N. Those are particularly good ones, I think the shop found a new supplier. Blue hydrangeas are hard to come by, especially out here. He must be paying a fortune for those,” she said, raising her eyebrows. You knew that - your favorite flower wasn’t common in California.

“Money isn’t really an issue for him,” you mumbled, holding out the water. “Here, take this, I know it’s hot out. I’m sorry you keep having to come out here for all these. You’d think he’d take the hint.”

“Oh nonsense honey, I don’t mind at all! It’s actually quite heartwarming.” She took the water, offering you a warm smile.

“Heartwarming?”

“To see young love so strong. Most people these days just give up and move on. He’s persistent.” Mary gave you a look that was laced with meaning, like she was trying to convince you of something. But she let it go quickly, sensing she may have gone too far.. “Well, I’ve got more deliveries to make. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”

You waved as she got back into the delivery van and pulled out of the driveway. Pulling the door behind you, you carried the bouquet in and sat it amongst the others, her words ringing in your ears.

Persistent. That was one word for it. Guilty might be more fitting.

It’d been a week since your argument, and you were still wrestling with the whole thing. The fact that you could play the entire thing back, word for word in your mind, wasn’t helping anything.

-----

“You can’t keep doing this,” Ethan said, leaning back against the couch. The fact that he was being callous about it wasn’t helping matters in the slightest.

“The hell I can’t. Don’t try and put this on me Ethan, don’t you fucking dare.”

“What the hell did you want me to do?” He snapped back.

“Just fucking tell me. That’s literally all I ever ask for you to do, and you just keep hiding shit from me!”

“I’m not hiding anything, you’re just paranoid.”

Wrong answer.

“Oh, okay, you’re right. Yeah, just paranoid. Well, hope you don’t mind, I’m gonna go spend the whole day with my ex. Oh wait, shit, shouldn’t have said that, too much information for you.” You spat the words, the anger you’d been holding in finally bubbling to the surface.

“We were filming, it’s for work.” His tone was short, anger escalating.

“I understand that. But you could have at least told me that’s what you were doing, instead of some vague ‘oh I’m just filming a collab’ bullshit. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”

“I don’t tell you shit because you always react like this! Everything I do makes you pissed at me!” Ethan said, exasperated.

“No, I react like this because you don’t tell me in the first place! You never ask me if I’m okay with anything-”

“I shouldn’t have to!” He was yelling now, something he never did. He knew how you got when people raised their voices, knew how it made you feel. “You don’t get to control my life! I’m my own fucking person!”

“Control your life...” you breathed it out, shaking your head in disbelief. “Right. I control you. I control you, but I’m the one who can’t ever post a picture with my boyfriend, can’t post a snapchat because people might realize that we’re together, can’t go out without telling you where I’m gonna be. Can’t have my clothes in your closet in case it’s in the back of a video, can’t leave our room when you’re filming in case my fucking reflection or the sound of my footsteps end up in shot. I can’t hold my own boyfriend’s hand in public, I can’t go on a date without security there. But you’re right, I’m the controlling one.” The tears were coming now, and Ethan’s eyes were wide. You made it a point to never complain about the things that life with him entailed - it was always worth it. But right now, you let them fly. You wanted him to know, to realize, to fucking appreciate exactly what you did every day, just for him. Maybe it would make him understand why you were so upset.

“I-” He started, but you cut him off.

“I give up so many little things, every fucking day, and I do it for you. And I ask you for one fucking thing - just to give me the respect of telling me when you’re gonna be around your ex for work, and you can’t even give me that. Just one fucking thing Ethan, that’s all.”

“You knew what you signed up for when you decided to date me.”

You weren’t sure what response you were expecting, you weren’t even sure what response you wanted. All you knew were his conceited words were the final straw.

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

-----

When you came back out of the memory, you were gripping the flowers so hard you were surprised you hadn’t broken the vase they were in. With a deep breath you went to the counter, scooting another vase to the side to make room for the new ones.

You pulled the card from the small holder nestled amongst the flowers. Your name was scrawled on the outside of the envelope in Ethan’s handwriting.

You never thought that handwriting could make your heart hurt. With delicate fingers you pulled it open, fishing out the tiny card provided by the florist shop.

I never thanked you enough for everything you gave up for me. I’m sorry. I love you more.

The tears were instantaneous, just like they were every time you opened one of the notes. They were all gathered in a little pile by one of your candles, each one a small declaration from Ethan.

I fucked up.

I can’t imagine my life without you. Please call me back.

Please give me a chance to make it up to you.

I miss you so fucking much.

But it didn’t matter what he said - each one ended with the same four words, and that’s what brought the tears every time without fail.

I love you more.

You could remember the first time he’d said it. Toes in the sand at the end of a picnic blanket on the beach, fire behind you keeping you warm as you watched the waves crash. His arm had been around your shoulder, you were leaning into his chest. And you said I love you to him for the first time.

And he’d responded with ‘I love you more’, as if that was the only correct response.

“What?” You’d asked.

“Well, you love me. Take that and add just a little more, and that’s what I feel for you. So, I love you more.” He explained it as though it was common sense.

And it had become the most unplanned little trademark in your relationship that you cherished more than you realized. Every time you said I love you, that was his response. When you were leaving for the day, when he made a stupid joke, cuddling in bed, after sex, when you were done singing terribly in the car.

He never missed one, never forgot.

You were realizing now that you’d taken advantage of what it really felt like to be loved like that.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, wiping at your eyes. You’d cried too much over the last few days, not having enough distractions to keep the memories and thoughts at bay. You couldn’t even use your phone - the missed calls and texts were too tempting to respond to. You needed to hold strong, and really think about everything when you were rational enough to figure out what you wanted to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Ethan anymore - you’d always love him. In fact, it was that maybe you loved him too much. Maybe you were giving up too much to fit your life into his. You wanted the simple things, the little things in your relationship. You wanted to go get ice cream with him on friday nights, hold his hand while you shopped, post stupid instagram stories and snapchats. You wanted to be able to talk to your friends about your own boyfriend and not be afraid that they might be using you to get information to sell to tabloids. They were little things, but they were still part of the ideal relationship you always dreamed about having.

And you knew that Ethan did it to protect you. He didn’t want fans harassing you any more than they already did, didn’t want you in danger. You’d been around for the stalker, and he’d almost broken it off right then for your own safety. But you’d stayed, and you’d followed his rules and you’d given it all up.

You did what you had to, but you never really thought about how it made you feel. Were you being selfish? Maybe. But part of you needed to be - you were bad about putting other people’s problems in front of yours, pushing down what you wanted, what you needed, in order to appease everybody else.

So as badly as you wanted to, you didn’t call him. You didn’t text him, you didn’t facetime him. You put your phone in a bag with a towel and some sunscreen, changing into a bathing suit and heading out to enjoy some California sunshine.

The pool in your neighborhood wasn’t as nice as the one at the boys house, but it would do the trick. It was part of the reason you’d decided to rent the place, but you’d only used it a few times. In fact, you might as well have given up your lease for the last 6 months anyways - you were rarely anywhere but Ethan’s.

Maybe that was it. Maybe you just needed some time to yourself, to figure out how you’d changed over the last year of your relationship, figure out who you were when you weren’t with him. Either way, you were going to have to talk to him about everything eventually - and you needed to get your mind settled on exactly what you wanted before you said anything.

You laid out on one of the lounges, closing your eyes and trying to relax. But the images wouldn’t stop rolling behind your eyelids, like a slideshow of all the best things you never wanted to forget.

And Ethan was in every single one of them. It didn’t matter how hard you tried - anything worth remembering and reliving had him written all over it. Your road trip across the US, he was right there in the passenger seat. The fourth of july when you’d gone camping and set off fireworks - he was the one with the lighter. The first time you’d caught a wave surfing, he was the first thing you saw when you turned back, arms raised high as he cheered you on, loud enough for the whole beach to hear.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

You fought within your mind for a few more hours, reaching farther back, back before you’d met Ethan, trying to find memories. It worked for a little bit - some trips you took when you were younger, late nights with old friends. You were finally getting the hang of it when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Uh, ma’am? Sorry, but you’ve gotta leave.” You opened your eyes, blinking up at the boy who’d tapped you. He was a young teenager, you could tell, and after spotting his whistle and red shorts you realized it was the lifeguard. “There’s a storm coming in, supposed to be pretty bad,” he added.

“Oh. Okay, yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, trying to orient yourself again. As you packed up your things, you looked up to see a rolling dark cloud coming in above your building. It was rare that it even rained in LA, much less stormed.

Guess your mood really could bring the weather.

You went back to your house, assaulted by the smell of the flowers after being out of the room for so long, and changed into shorts and a tank top. You couldn’t tell if it was getting darker from the sun going down or from the storm. Either way, you decided it was time for dinner - cooking would keep you occupied enough.

You pulled up an intricate recipe, one you knew would take a lot of focus and time, writing down the instructions so you could pull up Netflix on your phone and watch a few episodes of your favorite show. The more things on your mind, the less space for Ethan to creep in.

The method worked, and you moved around the kitchen, cutting up herbs and mincing garlic, enjoying the process and the relief from your thoughts. You frowned when you looked over the tops of the flowers on the counter - the sky outside was so dark that it could have been midnight. You paused, heading over to the doors.

As soon as you opened them, you realized that the storm was going to be a bad one. The wind was whipping, and the temperature had dropped at least 20 degrees, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. You’d never seen a storm come through LA like that.

“Damn,” you muttered, closing the door and locking it before heading back inside to finish up your dinner. Even over the sound of your show and the air conditioning, you could hear the wind outside. Eventually it even began to thunder - you didn’t mind. Storms were always your favorite weather.

You know who didn’t love storms? Ethan. He hated them. You were hit with another memory, from when you’d flown home to New Jersey with him. A storm had rolled through, with harsh winds and hail, and he’d clung to you through the whole thing, making sure you stayed at his side and away from the windows. He couldn’t sleep that night, and you’d stayed up with him watching harry potter to keep his mind off of things.

He wasn’t going to be doing well during this storm, that was for sure. You were overwhelmed suddenly with the thought of him alone in the house, curled up on the couch under a blanket. Just the thought of it made you sick to your stomach - you hated seeing him upset.

Before you could dwell on it any longer, you were suddenly surrounded in darkness.

‘What the fuck?” You moved to the light switch, testing it.

The storm had knocked the power out. Lovely.

“Well... pb&j it is then,” you sighed to yourself, turning off the burners on the stove and abandoning your dinner plans that definitely required electricity. It was like the universe was playing some sick joke - oh you wanna ignore your problems and distract yourself? Nice try.

With a lost appetite and nothing else to do, you retired to the couch, deciding to just keep watching netflix as the storm rolled outside. You expected it to blow over, but even after two episodes it was still raging outside. It sounded a bit like your house was going to come apart at the seams.

Trying to ignore it, you kept watching, dismissing your phone’s notifications of 20, then 10 percent battery. You were sure the power would be back on soon anyhow and you could charge it.

And then everything happened very quickly after that.

It started with a text from your best friend. You swiped down so you could read it.

have you checked twitter? wtf is going on

You frowned at that, exiting out of your texts and opening the app. You didn’t get on often - usually it was just slander, but occasionally you would check to see what was going on in the world. And even though it had been a while, your notifications were much, much higher than usual.

It only took a second for you to realize why. The article had been sent to you at least a dozen times, all with messages of concern attached. But you couldn’t read any of them - all you could see was the TMZ headline.

Dolan Twin involved in major LA crash, scene shut down

And right below it was an image of a mangled white tesla, upside down on the side of the road.

You couldn’t breathe. That was Ethan’s car. Ethan was in that car.

“Oh no, oh no no no no,” you groaned, immediately closing out and going to your contacts. He was the first one on the list of recents, and you immediately clicked to call him.

The dial tone came through three times before the call disconnected.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” you cried, going to your text messages.

are you okay? was all you had typed, and then your screen went black.

Your phone was dead.

“FUCK!” you yelled, panic overriding everything else. In the back of your mind you knew that you had a power bank somewhere that you could charge your phone off of, but the thought of looking for it wasn’t even feasible.

By the time you found it, you could be halfway to their house.

Without another thought you ran to the table by the door, grabbed your keys and sprinted to your car.

The rain was coming down in sideways sheets, droplets stinging against your bare skin as they hit. Even though your car was right outside, you were soaked by the time you threw the driver’s door open and climbed inside.

You fumbled with the keys, trying to start the car, hands shaking. You were a mess. It wasn’t going to do you any good to get to try to get to their house if you didn’t make it there yourself.

“Okay breathe Y/N, breathe,” you mumbled, turning the key and starting to back out of the driveway. The rain was relentless, your wipers going as fast as they could on the highest setting as you started down the road. You drove painfully slow, lucky to find that there were very few people out on the roads. You could hardly see in front of you at all.

In the back of your mind, you weren’t even sure why you were going to the house. He wouldn’t be there. Maybe Grayson was there. Grayson would know what to do.

The drive that usually took 10 minutes took 20 this time - you couldn’t go over 25 without losing your visibility entirely. Your heartbeat was through the roof the whole drive, and you were blinking the panicked tears away as they came so you could see. Both hands were gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles were white until you got to the house. You pulled up to the small box that unlocked the gate, typing in the code without thinking.

The power was out. The gate wasn’t going to open.

“Fuck!” You yelled again, still panicking. In a moment of insight, you remembered something. When they’d installed the gate, you’d been there to help supervise, and the installer had shown you all something.

“There’s a reset code that will activate the battery pack in here. In case you ever get locked out, or there’s no power. Just type it in and then type in your usual code and it should open right up.”

“Shit, shit shit,” you mumbled, reaching out the window and trying to remember the code, remembering the numbers but not the order. 6736. No. 3766. No dice. 7663. Nothing. Finally, you tried again. 7636. The buttons lit up blue, signaling you’d done something right.

You quickly typed in the code, letting out the breath you’d been holding when the gates began to swing open. You rolled up your window and pulled up the driveway, throwing your car in park and climbing out immediately into the rain.

And to your confusion, the driveway was full. The Porsche was parked in it’s usual spot, the Bronco behind it. Ethan’s Jeep was to the side, and there right in front of you was the Tesla, in perfect condition, parked and waiting.

“What-”

“Y/N? What the fuck? What’re you doing?”

When you turned at the voice, you could have fallen to your knees right there in the rain.

Standing outside the front door, still under the stoop and protected from the rain was Ethan, whole and unharmed.

Every doubt you’d had, every question you’d asked yourself about what you wanted and what you needed over the last few days was suddenly irrelevant. None of it mattered. You’d do anything, you’d do everything for him. There wasn’t a single fiber of your being that questioned it anymore. He was the only man you were ever going to love, and you’d been dumb to think otherwise, even for a second. You were meant to be with him, and that was the end of the story.

You ran straight for him, dropping your keys on the way and barreling into his arms. He caught you, the force of it almost knocking him off his feet.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong, what’s goin’ on?” He carried you inside, into the dark, and it wasn’t until you were out of the wind and the rain that you realized that you were sobbing. You could hear the gasps coming from you, like they were being ripped out with hooks. You knew you were scaring the shit out of him, but you couldn’t get enough of a breath to even say anything. All you could do was cling to him, relish in the reassurance of having him there with you, perfectly fine and alive and safe. You buried your face in his shoulder, breathing him in as best you could through your gasps.

He seemed to realize that you were incapable of speaking, so he sat down on the couch, you in his lap pressed to him as tightly as you could be. He wrapped his arms around your back, squeezing you to him in the most blissful way as the sobs continued, rough and ragged.

“Sweetheart, you’re shakin’ like a leaf. You must be freezing,” he mumbled, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around your back. You were still soaking wet, and you knew that the water would probably ruin it, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you hurt? Baby please - talk to me.” He pulled back just enough to look at your face, and even just that tiny loss of contact was excruciating.

“Are you hurt?” He repeated, some of the worry leaving his eyes when you shook your head no. “Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I saw an a-a-article, and I t-thought-” you couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out, you just broke down again.

“I saw it too. They already took it down, and their asses are getting sued,” Ethan said, a bitterness in his tone that you weren’t used to.

“I thought it was your car, I thought it was y-y-you,” you stuttered, burying your face in his neck.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call?”

“I tried- it disconnected.”

“I was probably on the phone with the lawyer,” he mumbled his explanation, still unsure. “But hey, I’m okay, I didn’t even leave the house today. I’m safe, and I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Yeah,” you whimpered, the tears still coming.

“Tell me what to do, tell me how to help,” he pleaded, obviously at a loss. He’d always told you he hated seeing you upset, even a little bit.

“Just hold me, please,” you asked, feeling vulnerable but knowing it was what you needed.

“Okay. Okay.”

He wrapped his arms around you even tighter, pressing you into his chest. His arms were strong and stable as they coiled around your waist. You focused on the feeling of them around you, holding you steady as he rocked side to side, so subtle that you weren’t even sure that he realized he was doing it. You breathed him in, the smell a mixture of his skin and his deodorant and the ghost of the cologne you knew he’d put on that morning. It was the most grounding thing you could find besides his voice in your ear, whispering sweet reassurances.

It took a few minutes, but you were able to breathe again, body finally processing out your adrenaline and allowing you to stop shaking. He didn’t let go, even when the tears had ceased - he kept his hold, leaning his head against yours, pressing kisses to your temple, your neck, your shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whispered when you got to the point where you could trust your voice, sitting up and taking a deep breath.

“Me and smooth cat are just fine,” he said, and you couldn’t help but laugh. It was the first time you’d laughed in a week, and it felt almost foreign.

“There’s that smile I’ve been looking for.” Ethan breathed out a sigh of relief, reaching up to wipe your tears. When he did, you laid your cheek in his palm, so thankful for the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I’m sorry you thought I died. But I’m really fucking glad you’re here,” he admitted, staring at you, eyes tracing the features of your face in the candlelight. You’d barely even noticed they were burning, giving off just enough light for you to see each other.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you smiled. You couldn’t believe you’d ever thought you could live without him.

“Did you get my flowers?”

“Which ones? The first bouquet or the 15th?” You teased.

He blushed at that, cheeks turning your favorite shade of pink. “I went a little overboard huh.”

“I made friends with the flower delivery lady,” you shrugged.

“Of course you did,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

“I missed you too. I missed us,” you sighed.

“Does that mean... does that mean we’re okay then?” He asked it nervously, obviously scared of what you would say.

You watched the relief cross his face when you smiled. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

“Oh thank god,” he said, hugging you to him again. The blanket fell off your shoulders and you shivered as the cold air hit your skin again. You weren’t dripping wet anymore, but you were still damp, the occasional droplet falling from your hair and onto Ethan’s shirt.

“Well in that case, let’s get you warmed up huh? And get you away from these windows.”

You let him carry you to his room, past his bed and into the bathroom where he sat you down and started running a bath and lighting the candles he always kept on the sides of the tub for you. It was as easy as breathing to undress and climb into the water, feeling it warm you up from head to toe. Though the most relaxing part was when Ethan climbed in behind you, leaning you back gently so you were resting on his chest.

And when you rolled over just slightly so you could look at him and tell him that you loved him, you knew exactly what he was going to say. The words were so much sweeter falling from his lips than they had been when they were on paper.

“I love you more.”

#two imagines in two days???? a bitch CREATIVE #hope you all like the angst #i did my best #now i want it to storm haha #lynds writes #ethan imagine #ethan imagines #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagines #dolan twins #dolan twins imagines

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 5 years ago

Text

Together

My first Halloween request! yay! find the request post; here

Thank you for the request @suhdays, you’re the best, I hope you like it 🥺Request; “ twinning Halloween costumes with yoongi (but it’s like something dorky, like a stapler idk alsjs) and they go to a party where everyone is like “it’s that couple again” and it’s cute and fluffy !! ”

Min Yoongi x reader Genre; Fluff, guess lil humour too because I like the funnies Warnings; Adult language and topics otherwise none Word count; 2.3k

Summary; For the first time in five years, you leave the important task of buying your couple costume to your boyfriend. This is how he turns his mistake into something you’ll always remember

---

It's that time of year again; Halloween and for the first time in your life, you were not ready. You had recently started your own business so your whole life was pretty much full of meetings and interviews and paperwork and spoopy season was at the bottom of your list of priorities. Which is why you left the Halloween prep entirely to Yoongi. Admittedly, you were pretty worried at first and reluctant to allow your boyfriend to take the responsibility of the holiday into his own hands, not because you don't trust him as that's not true at all, you've always trusted Yoongi with everything in you but the fact is; Min Yoongi has always been the type to cheat his way through things that don't have his full attention and Halloween definitely fell under that category. But, the man pulled through and had the house, both interior and exterior decorated a week into October (a week later than you yourself would've had it done but that's beside the point) and had stocked up on sweets for both yourselves and the trick or treaters. So, Yoongi did well in that respect but clearly, one of the most important aspects of celebrating Halloween went straight over his head until the very last moment.

"Yoongi, what...what is this?" You questioned prodding at the plastic packaging in your hands.

"Our costumes." Was his answer from where he stood in your bedroom doorway, shuffling his weight from foot to foot knowing that you were not impressed with him.

"This isn't what we agreed on,"

"Yeah well..." He trailed off not quite knowing what to say to defend his lack of foresight in the costume buying department.

"You forgot and got these on the way home, didn't you?" Just like that, his body slumped and his lips pursed into the pout you knew meant he was going to try and cutely whine his way out of his own problem. And you hated that pout because it was so hard to say no to.

"I meant to order the other ones but kept forgetting and when I remembered I couldn't find them anywhere so I was going to make them but didn't have the time; I have the supplies under the bed so you can't say I wasn't going to! Then next thing I knew Jin caught me on the way out of work to do his yearly speech of him and Joon are going to beat us at the couple costume competition tonight and yeah...it was between those or sexy plug and socket and honestly I would rather just go in normal clothes and give hyung the prize myself than make either of us wear that sorry excuse for a costume." He was off on a rant by that point, eyebrows scrunched together and lips even poutier and so adorable you couldn't resist. Yoongi was too busy in his speech on sexy electrical costumes to even notice that you were closer until your lips were on his ceasing his spiel.

"Why are you so cute, huh?" You cooed upon pulling back far enough to look into his surprised gaze.

"Uh, not the response I expected." Was his response, earning a giggle from you. "So uhm yeah, it's still a couple costume." He murmured a little distractedly as he placed his hand over the two packaged outfits in your hand. "I'll be this one and you that."

"Okay fine, we can still win with this, right?"

"Yeah, Jin-hyung always chooses either some obscure anime characters or a pun that no-one understands, for him and Joonie."

"We got this."

When you arrived at the party hand in hand with Yoongi you saw Seokjin and Namjoon across the garden dressed as...something...honestly you couldn't even make a vaguely intelligent guess at what exactly the couple were supposed to me; something with beads and an obnoxious amount of purple feathers. Even though you had expected pretty much exactly that from Seokjin you still felt yourself relax the tiny amount of tension in your shoulders from the thought of not taking home the prize as you and Yoongi had for the past four years since Hoseok started hosting the annual party.

"Are you a stapler and stack of paper?" Jimin questioned as the pair of you approached the drink table where the pink-haired fairy was hanging around to talk to people; Jimin was always seen at the drinks table even if he wasn't drinking purely because he knew people would always be coming and going so he had plenty of chances to make new friends and charm the fishnet stockings off of someone for the night.

"Yes," You confirmed, not really wanting to elaborate and instead focused on pouring drinks out for you and your stack of paper partner.

"Not that you're not cute or anything because you two are the cutest couple and always will be, I voted for you before you even arrived; but like, why? Your costumes are usually really...not this."

"Because she holds me together," Yoongi replied easily as if it had always been the genuine reason for you to be the stapler to his paper that evening, not his incredible ability to forget the one thing you planned literally months ahead of time.

"That was cute, now I want to vote for you." You looked over your shoulder to find Namjoon waiting with the two men behind you, two empty plastic cups in his hands so you held your hands out in a silent offer that he accepted wit a smile. "Don't tell Jin I said that though, he'll do something petty to get back at me and I love him and all but I do not want to not get my dick sucked just because I assisted the enemy."

"Hyung is so dramatic," Jimin giggled. "I love it."

"Mm, try getting vaguely threatening messages from him for the past month in an attempt at getting us to throw the competition." Yoongi snorted.

"Ah, that's why he stopped messaging me, he found out you had to buy them!" You realised with a laugh and capped the bottle in your hand so that you could return Namjoon's then full cups to him then gather your own while Yoongi picked up his with a gentle kiss to your jaw in passing.

"He takes this way too seriously."

"What exactly are you two even supposed to be?" Jimin enquired, tilting his head curiously as he eyed the feathered male from head to toe then back again.

"I have no fucking idea." Namjoon deadpanned before nodding to the three of you and turning to return to his partner's side.

"Poor Joonie," Jimin hummed before giggling which you and Yoongi quickly joined in with. Namjoon dealt with a lot from his boyfriend and his eccentric and shameless ways but they were such a perfect match that you knew Namjoon would never even attempt to change a single thing about Seokjin. They were cute- you could admit that-, even if their Halloween costumes always sucked.

"We should go get our picture taken for the vote table," Yoongi pointed out.

"Most people here already know who you two are," Jimin laughed but you and Yoongi were already heading across the garden to the table beside the temporary stage at the bottom of the garden.

"Just in time!" Jeongguk beamed from where he was perched on his comfortable lawn chair beside the table, camera hanging around his neck ready to take portraits against the spooky backdrop just to the side for whoever wanted the service, for a fee of course. "It's almost time to close the sign up for the competitions," He got to his feet and got into position while you and Yoongi stood ready for your photo to be taken by the cape clad male; vampire again and the only reason Jeongguk had that costume in the first place was that Hoseok said he couldn't work at his party if he didn't dress up. Though the way the seams across his biceps stretched in protest you guessed Jeongguk would have to finally buy a new costume for the following year or quit the gym.

"Many people this year?" You asked once your photos were taken and the best one was being sent to the portable printer on the table to pin on the board showcasing the contestants.

"Not really for the couple one, everyone knows you two win so the only person that really tries to beat you is Jin-hyung. But the individual comp has a lot of entries. Mostly girls hoping to win a date with Hoseokie-hyung." Jeongguk informed with a giggle while pinning your photo on the couples competition board.

"Wait, what?" Yoongi replied. "Hobi is putting himself up as grand prize?"

"Didn't you see the poll he made on Twitter last week? He added a date with him as a joke but it won so he stuck with it. There's also the usual gift hamper prize too so the winner can pick what they'd prefer."

"I hope someone nice wins and Hoseokie gets a kind girlfriend out of it." You commented and they both hummed in agreement.

"Gukkie! Picture please!" Someone you couldn't recall the name of but were certain had been at Jeongguk's birthday party called so you and Yoongi left the photographer to his work and went off to mingle and talk to friends and strangers alike.

At midnight Hoseok got up on stage to announce the competition winners. To his own surprise, Taehyung won the individual competition; he hadn't even applied but from the way Jeongguk was hollering from the side you deduced the vampire had pinned his best friend's picture up all the same. It was a good costume; Taehyung was Van Gogh's ghost and had spent the night flitting around with body paints in his hands painting tributes to his favourite artist on the skin of whoever would let him. You yourself had the most famous starry night on your neck and Yoongi was too ticklish to allow the brushes near his sensitive skin.

"Congrats Tae!" Hoseok cooed, pushing back the crown that was slipping down his head yet again so that he could beam at Taehyung as the younger stepped up to collect his prize. "Come get the hamper before you leave tomorrow, yeah?"

"What if I want the date?" He challenged. The crowd "ooh"ed. Hoseok flailed.

"Did not take that into consideration," Yoongi admitted lowly by your side.

"Me either. Has Seok ever been into guys?"

"No, well, not that he's told me,"

"Do you think he could be?"

"I mean, it's Tae, I think everyone's at least a little gay for Tae."

"We know you are." You sniggered and he whined. "What? It's cute."

"Will you ever let me live that down? It was before we even met, babe."

"I can never forget that, babe."

Your teasing bickering distracted from the spectacle on stage long enough for Taehyung to leave with a promise from the host to talk later. Hoseok had even moved onto the couple's competition. That man sure worked fast when he wanted to remove the focus from his flushed features.

"Oh, no surprise here, Y/N and Yoongi!" He called into the microphone causing you both to look forward to the stage with wide eyes having been caught off guard. "Come on you two!" So you both waddled up onto the stage and accepted the winner badges Hoseok pinned to your costumes. "You know what to do about your prize," He joked waving you both off.

"What if we want a date with you too, huh?" You cooed. Hoseok yelled while you skittered off stage after Yoongi who could only smile fondly at your antics.

"Hey! Don't try and steal my date!" Taehyung exclaimed from beside the stage making you laugh before you fell into conversation with him and gained another masterpiece on your skin; this time on the back of your hand.

3 am the next morning you flopped into bed beside Yoongi, both freshly clean of the night's sweat and body paints. "I swear we get home later every year," Yoongi grumbled, already closing his eyes ready to greet sleep with open arms.

"That's because every year he comes up with new games to play and neither of us can so no to that shithead and he knows it." You yawned, head resting on his shoulder and leg laying over his own. He hummed in agreement. "What you said earlier to Jimin about our costumes, was that some of your spur of the moment bullshit or did you think of it when you picked them?"

"Hm? What did I say?"

"That I was the stapler and you paper because I hold you together."

"Oh, yeah, that. It's the truth, you do hold me together, always have. I don't want to even think about the mess I'd be right now if I never met you."

"Huh, maybe next year I should be superglue," You joked tilting your head to grin up at him. He felt your movement so opened his eyes to meet your gaze with a soft smile.

"And I'll be the broken toy that only you have the strength to fix."

"You're not broken."

"Not anymore, you fixed me." You lifted up just enough to press a soft, loving kiss to his lips.

"We did it together; like we do everything else. And we'll keep working like this for a long time, okay?"

"You and me together forever. Cliche but I can live with that."

"Let's get some sleep, I have a feeling we'll have Seok around tomorrow panicking that he agreed to go on a date tonight with Taehyung."

"Ugh, can't I not be here for that?" He groaned rolling over to wrap his limbs around you and bury his face into your neck making you giggle at the cute actions.

"No, we literally just talked about this, Yoonie."

"Mm," He inhaled your clean soft scent deeply before exhaling and leaning back to look at you. "Together?"

"Forever."

#bts halloween au #btswritingcafe #bts halloween fic #bts yoongi au #bts yoongi fluff #bts suga au #bts suga fluff #bts yoongi fic #bts suga fic #bts yoongi halloween au #bts yoongi halloween fic #bts suga halloween au #bts suga halloween fic #request #bts request #whipped-for-kpop-fics #cheewrites #admin chee

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greatfay · 4 years ago

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since ur answering asks and shit can u explain what u meant by generational differences in communication

Damn it’s like 2015 tumblr when my inbox used to be WET. So if you’re talking about the controversial opinions post, YES, like I totally understand where people are coming from when they say that generational divides aren’t real (because they aren’t, they’re arbitrary) and distract us from real problems and yes they paint past generations as collectively bigoted when Civil Rights protestors in the 60s (who are in their 70s and 80s now) are mirrors to BLM protestors today, who could be of any age, but the most vocal and famous (at least online, especially irt to the founders, like Patrisse Cullors who is 37.

But how we communicate is sooooo different. I really point to the Internet and Social Media as a major influence in how younger millennials (more Tom Hollands and less Seth Rogans—see even there, I feel like there are two different types of Millennials) and Gen Zrs/Zoomers and even Generation Alpha behave and communicate. We live in a world where we grew up either knowing right out the gate or discovering the hard way that what we say and do has permanence, the kind of permanence that prior generations have never experienced until today. The dumb things kids have been saying since forever can now follow them... forever. We have an inherent understanding of how online spaces work. Compare that to, idk, let’s say you posted on your Facebook (for the first time in 18 months) “All these big and bad grown ass Senators going after actual child Greta Gerwig lol ok, you’re so brave for attacking a CHILD over climate change” and then your aunt, who’s turning “forty-fifteen” in May replies to your post with “So happy to see my passionate niece! Much love from us, hope you’re doing well. Paul is doing great, waiting on his screening results. Tell your mom I said we miss her, we need to get together, we forgive her for last Christmas.”

Like... ok there’s a lot going on there, but your hypothetical aunt is oversharing on a publicly accessible post. And even with the most strict of privacy settings, she’s oversharing where your other Facebook friends (which may include classmates, coworkers, etc.) can see. But she’s saying things that would only be appropriate in a 1-on-1 conversation. This Aunt doesn’t have an understanding of such boundaries, she’s not as technologically literate and hasn’t grown up in a world of Virtual Space, she still gets most of her news from TV, she trusts what a reporter on Channel 4 will read off a script more than what actual video footage of an incident might reveal on Twitter, and she has no clue that she’s been sharing her location data with every post she makes.

There’s such a huge difference. I think it even affects how we experience and express stress and frustration. I think growing up partially in online spaces has made me more accustomed to conflict and consequence-free arguing than someone who never had to worry about that. I’ve been exposed so much to harassment and bullying, triangulating and echo chambers in forums and threads, and vastly opposing point of views at such an early age that it’s had an effect on how I see the world. Compare this to a customer I helped two weeks ago who was looking for a specific type of supplement for children. I found it for her, I handed her exactly what she was looking for, even though her description of the product actually matched several different products; to make sure I’d done my job thoroughly and that she leaves happy and satisfied and doesn’t bother me again, I then show her more products that match her description so that she knows she has options. And she proceeds to freak out, saying “NO, NO, I’M LOOKING FOR [X] AND IT HAS TO BE [XYZ]” and when I say freak out, she looked stressed and PANICKED. And being a retail employee wears you down bit by bit, and add COVID on top of it and little shit like this makes you snap, sometimes. So I have to cut her off like “Why are you screaming and freaking out, jfc you’re holding what you said you wanted. It’s in your hands. I gave you what you wanted, I’m just showing you more things.”

That customer is not an exception, she’s not a unique case. She’s representative of a frightening percentage of her generation, the kids who watched Grease and The Breakfast Club and Ghost in theaters when they were originally released. This is how they communicate and process information. She could not, for some reason, register that her need had been fulfilled, and defaulted to an extreme emotional response when given new and different information.

I’ve yet to deal with someone younger than 35 act the same way, the exceptions being the kids of very wealthy people at my new job who reek of privilege I gag when they walk in—but even they are like *shrugs* “ok whatever” and understanding when there’s something I can’t do for them.

Me: “sorry, we are totally out of that one in your size, but I can order it for you, it’s 2-3 day shipping at no cost to you and we ship it straight to your house”

A rich, white, attractive 22-year-old who’s had access to organic food, a rigorous dermatologist, and financial security since she was born: “mmm... sure, I’ll order it”

A 47-year-old of any socioeconomic background, of any race, in the same situation: “AHHHHHHHHHHH”

I just think it’s crazy how three generations of kids and young adults raised in a world where everything moves so much faster, where knowledge and entertainment and communication can be gathered so much faster, are often so much more polite and patient and understanding. Yesterday I told an older man (mid-50s) whose native tongue is the same as mine, as clearly and succinct as possible, that what he’s looking for is “in aisle 4.” He proceeded to repeat back, “Aisle 7?” four time before I dropped everything to show him what he needed in aisle 4, despite his insistence that he didn’t need me to walk him there. 4 and 7 sound nothing alike in English. There’s just something going on up there 🧠 that’s different.

Oh, other generational divides!!! We have different approaches to labor and working. Totally different! I’m a “young” millennial where I’m almost Gen Z, and I’ve noticed an awful trend among my demographic where people actually brag about working 90 hour work weeks. Or brag about how they skip breaks and live on-call to get the job done for “the hustle” like this “hustle, become a millionaire by 30″ culture that’s dominated these kids, idk where tf that came from. Like why are you proud of being a wage slave, getting taken advantage of by your millionaire/billionaire overlords. Compare this to my mother’s generation (she’s a borderline Genius X’er, she and her best friend were a year too young to watch Grease when it came out and had a random older woman buy tickets for her; she went to Prince concerts, took photos of him, then sold the photos on buttons at school, that’s her culture and teenage experience), where she’s insistent on her rights and entitlements as an employee, and these things she instilled me: “whatchu mean they didn’t schedule a break for you and you’re working 12 hrs today? oh no, you’re off, don’t answer your phone cuz you are NOT available!” There are Gen X’ers who entered the workforce at a time that America was drifting toward this corporate world, with more strictly defined regulations, roles, and understandings of labor rights (and also, let’s talk about how the 80s there was so much more attention on workplace harassment, misogyny and gender divides in wage gaps, etc. etc... not that much has changed, but at least it was talked about!). There are young people today who are taken advantage of because they aren’t as informed or don’t feel as secure and valuable enough to claim what belongs to them.

At the same time, those generations (Gen X and older) have a different viewpoint of hierarchies in the workplace and respect irt our direct supervisors. That’s how you get this blurring of boundaries between Work Life and one’s Personal Life that leads to common tropes in media written by their generations, where oh no! I’m having my boss over for dinner and the roast beef is still defrosting :O is such a “relatable thing” for them... meanwhile us younger generations are like I don’t even like that you know where I live, and if I see your 2017 Honda Civic pass my place one day, we’re going to have a problem. I think older generations have a different relationship with the word “Respect” than we do. Like, my grandma, who’s turning 87 (?) this year, and the other seniors in my area, they have a different concept of honor and an expectation of professional boundaries that I, and my mom and her generation, just don’t see (so then there’s something in common with Gen X’ers and the rest of us.) My dad grew up in a world where talking and acting like George Bailey and knocking on someone’s door with a big smile could get you a job, a job that could pay for college and rent no problem. My mom grew up in a world that demanded more prestige, where cover letters and references could get you into some cushy jobs if you’re persistent and ballsy enough. And I grew up in a world where potential employers literally don’t see your face when you apply unless they lurk on any social media profiles you have publicly available and they hold all the cards, and you need all those CVs and reference letters just to make minimum wage... so I feel like I am powerless in the face of such employers.

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katzirra · 4 years ago

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Finding myself still upset a week later. Tired with the idea that no matter if I'm in the wrong or not, I'm usually expected to either reach out and apologize first because I'm sad at the distance, or just act like nothing happened.

And it's not just this time. Which is the bigger issue. It's this reoccurring thing in my life, which has, in the long term, fucked up my perception of my own allowed emotions. With BPD I'm already invalidating myself, constantly thinking I'm over reacting. The issue has become that I'm rarely if ever over reacting now, because I'm too scared to even open up or feel around people at ALL now. Which I also get told is a problem, how I don't share and open up more - like I use to. It's a fucking loop.

I have people mad every few years that I can't be the friend they want me to be. And when I am transparent about my capabilities and my personal needs, I'm told I basically have to remind them about it when they get upset. It's not my job to keep apologizing... It's like, I'm sorry I am how I am. I also don't want to be like this, but it's how I am these days. I also think it sucks.

But I can't keep apologizing and hating myself for someone's expectations of me that I've been clear about what I can handle... And there's this weird reflection of that in that I'm told I don't owe anything to anyone or whatever, but it feels backhanded and passive in a way that never lays well with me when people say it? Like sometimes it feels like people put words in my mouth? If that makes sense...? It's like when people project their anger on my tone when 9/10 I'm depressed, tired and my tone is honestly flat. Like now.

Getting upset at me over and over again, doesn't help me to be closer to you either. It makes me constantly hear I'm a disappointment and I'm fucking up or hurting you, because I'm not pushing myself to do more than I'm capable of emotionally and mentally. I apologize constantly and it becomes a huge thing of what did I do wrong now.... And again, that's not an isolated incident. It's numerous observations. I feel guilty for taking up time, when I'm not feeling good enough for the person. Does that even make sense?

I'm just tired of hating myself for not being the person people want me to be. I am transparent about my energy levels, my abilities to be a friend. I give so much of myself, and I admit that I have no perception of time outside of if I'm working or not, or when I work next. I constantly tell people this. Most people understand, but it's the ones that don't that I feel bad over, and who have more weight somehow...

I think the other thing upsetting me lately is, it wasn't the first time someone pretty much told me that my responses were apparently too long or too much and it was literally in response to their messages. And it just... Idk. People want to vent and yell and rant at me, but not read my responses? Intention or not. It settled in my chest weird and caused a big mental shut down for me in terms of feeling worth someone's time. It just...Idk. It hurt. It's still hurting. It's that feeling of why should I bother with something if that's how the person feels about my feelings. That they're only worth glossing over, when I make sure I read and respond appropriately to things... It hurt a lot. And it kind of just felt like why are you bothering with ME?

It's like how I got reprimanded for saying I felt like a filler friend. Those are my feelings. I'm allowed to feel them. Being yelled at or being told i shouldn't feel that way when history of numerous friendships proves it to be a valid feeling is...what??

I...mm. It made me feel like a fucking freak or something honestly. Like I'm a weirdo for responding to people's messages thoroughly? And it's not the first time, and maybe previous times are why I have such aversion to talking at length about myself and my feelings now.

I've just sort of put everything at a distance since. A few friends have texted me, and I've been working on fixing some friendships via opportunities that have arisen. But that shit cut me deep, and made me feel weird about friendships in general again. Like maybe I'm not supposed to be anyone's friend because apparently I can't do it right. I...try to be there when people need me, and reapond when spoken to, I make time to see people when they want to and even ask people when I feel safe enough to or am not exhausted from work...even when I'm exhausted I do...I buy lunch or dinner every time people come over because I feel if you come here, I owe you that much... Or Becca or I cook dinner... I....??

I like to think I'm a good and valuable friend, otherwise I guess people wouldn't be upset with me...but also like...I deserve respect that I'm not who I use to be, probably never will be again, and I'm constantly pushing myself more than I should because I love the people in my life, or I wouldn't make the space and time for them that I try to... I have faults, I'm not perfect, but I try to be as kind and courteous and considerate as I can be... I'm genuinely interested in things and engage when I can... Idfk. It's not.enouvh. But I'm never going to BE enough for people.

I shouldn't have to report to people when I'm not feeling well. I will make a post to social media because I catch myself, and it's easier to make a vague post about myself or a generalized comment so if someone is inclined to talk to me further, they can on their own engagement terms because I've also had friends who get mad I vent too much!!

It's like no matter what I do, I understand people are all different, but I've had such negative reactions from basic shit that I don't know how to be a person at times. Trauma shapes us, and I hate the mangled form of an incorrectly thrown vase I've become, but I'm trying to fix it and it's DIFFICULT.

But yaknow, I'm sure I'm just being dramatic or something. Or I'm the asshole. I don't think I've actually ever had someone hurt me and apologize after I've told them it hurt me. At least not sincerely. It's always met with defensive energy, like I'm a jerk for it?? Tone is a weird thing...

Which is EXACTLY why I don't tell people when they hurt me, because it blows up.in my face as I'm in the wrong, and my anxiety and energy peak and I just feel remorse for TRYING. So I'm not expecting anything to ever change in my life, and especially with my avoidance of Discord and Twitter right now.im super not expecting shit. It might be months before I check my messenger or.notes there becauee that's how my anxiety triggers with this shit. Friendship issues and potential abandonment and shit just make me give up on existing in shared spaces. That's avoidance ans I'm sure there's a million things to be said about it about me, but it just sucks. The way my anxiety makes me feel.in regards to these topics where I'm expected to trust people, but if I speak up.i feel immediately on edge because the reaction is that I'm bad and wrong...man. No, that feels bad. I hate it. And maybe that's why I'm so unfeeling anymore. Detached, as jt were...

Life's a fucking mess, and I need to take care of myself because my mental.heslth has been in scary places lately. And I don't try and burden people with it at all, because those are my demons. But also, like, I fake a lot of happiness and save face online, and like...that takes a lot out of me.

But... I'm tired.of not.letting myself be upset when someone severely hurts me on a fundamental level.for myself. I'm allowed to be hurt this.time. It sucked. Ans I don't know what to do anymore, because I'm tired of the energy suck of being told I'm basically in the wrong.

I feel resigned to just not have friends honestly. Like I'm too fucked in the head to have them, I guess?? That's what it feels like. I don't know what to do, I just... Don't want to exist honestly. Everything is already too much every day.

I gotta get ready to sleep because good ol work tomorrow and another day of autopilot. I've done nothing but come home, sleep, and wake up at 8pm and space out for three or four hours and go back to bed all week.

I'm burnt out on existing ans that thought brings me actual terror some days.

#kat life #ignore me #probabaly delete tomorrow #tumblr.has always been nice tk yell at the void ans clesr my ahit brain #theres jusy a legit mental breakdown over the horizon and im just trying tk keep.it together fkr a few.more weeks...

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duhragonball · 5 years ago

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‘21

Amidst all the popular hype for seeing the end of 2020, it didn’t hit me until about lunchtime what the real highlight is that I’ve been waiting for: For the first time since 1999, the year finally ends in “numberty-number” again. It low-key irritated me that we had to call it “two thousand three” and I was relieved when “twenty-thirteen” caught on, but it still wasn’t right because it was too short, and now we’re back in the sweet spot, and I should be safely dead by 2100, so that’s one less thing I gotta deal with.

Really, even “numberty hundred” rings true to me. “Nineteen hundred” sounds like a year. “Twenty-one-oh-six” sounds like a futur-y year, which is even cooler. So did “Two thousand five”, until I was actually living in it, and it sounds even worse now that it was a long time ago and adults will talk about their childhood happening in that year. Daniel Witwicky would be old enough to get married and grow a fancier beard than me. That’s nuts. My point is that, honestly, it’s the year 3000-3019 that I have to worry about, so if I ever decide to go vampire, those will be the years I hide in the ocean or force society to reset the calendar, whichever’s easier.

I spent New Year’s Eve finishing Superliminal, which I bought on Steam after I watched Vegeta play it on YouTube. It has a similar look and feel to the Stanley Parable, so if you liked one you’d probably enjoy the other, although Superliminal has a different theme. I kept hoping I’d find some secret passage that I wasn’t supposed to take, and a narrator would scold me for finding the “Chickenbutt Ending”, but it doesn’t work that way. Superliminal’s all about puzzles and awesome visuals, but it does have the same soothing design aesthetics as TSP. Honestly, I enjoyed just wandering around in Stanley’s office, and Superliminal does the same thing with a hotel and several other settings. It’s nice.

This got me thinking about how I kind of did everything there was to do in The Stanley Parable, and I sort of wished they would add new stuff to the game, but I’m not sure there would be much point to that. I could play the older version, but it presents the same message, just with different assets. The Boss’s Office would look different, but it’d be the same game. And this got me thinking about various “secret chapters” in pop culture. Secrets behind the cut.

I first heard about this idea in the 2000′s, when fans invented this notion that there was a secret chapter of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I read a website that tried to explain the concept, and of course it lauded J.K. Rowling with all this gushing praise for working an Easter egg into the book, a literary work of “well, magic.”

That pretty well sums up my distaste for Harry Potter, by the way. These days, JKR has thoroughly crapped all over her reputation and legacy, but in the 2000′s it felt like half the planet was in a mad rush to canonize her as a writing goddess, to the point where fans were congratulating her for writing secret chapters that didn’t actually exist. The idea was based on lore from the books about Neville Longbottom’s parents. They were patients in a mental hospital, and he’d go to visit them, and they would give him bubble gum wrappers, intended to demonstrate how far remove they’ve become from reality. The secret chapter lies in those wrappers, which all read “Droobles Best Blowing Gum” or some such. What if Neville’s parents were only pretending to be mentally ill, so as to throw off their enemies? Naturally, they would want to stay in contact with their son, so the bubble gum wrappers would have to contain coded messages. Said code involves unscrambling the letters on the wrappers to make new words, like “goblin” or “sword” or “Muggle” or “Dumbledore”. The problem is that you can also use it to make other words like “booger” or “drool” or “booobbiess.” Play with it enough, and you can make the code say anything you want it to say, which means it’s no code at all.

But the idea was that the not-yet-published sixth HP book would reveal all of this gum wrapper nonsense, and Neville would decode the messages and discover all of his parents’ super-cool adventures. I’m not sure why we needed a secret chapter if Book 6 was going to explain all of this anyway in several not-secret chapters, but that was the whole point. Fans didn’t have Book 6 yet, and they were so desperate to read it that they started trying to extrapolate what would happen next based on “clues” from the previous five. That’s like trying to figure out what Majin Buu looks like by watching the Androids Saga. I guess some wiseguy would have guessed that he’d resemble #19, but that’d just be blind luck.

And when you get down to it, this whole secret chapter business is really just a conspiracy. This is literally how Qanon works. Some anonymous jackass posted vague “hints” on an imageboard, and people went goofy trying to interpret them and figure out what would happen in the future. They call it “research” because they spend a ton of time on this, but there’s no basis to any of it. It took me a few minutes to figure out that you can spell “Muggle” with the words in “Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum”, but that’s not research and it doesn’t prove anything. But all these guys keep looking for “Hilary Clinton goes to jail next week” and lo and behold that’s all they ever find.

In the same vein, the gum wrapper thing was really a complaint disguised as a conspiracy, disguised as a “magical secret chapter”. At least a few fans wanted to see more Neville in their Harry Potter books, they wanted Neville’s parents, or someone like them, to have cool spy adventures or whatever else. The point is, they clearly weren’t getting what they wanted out of the printed works, but they didn’t want to turn against their Dear Beloved Author, so they started casting about for an alternative reality, one where J.K. Rowling wrote a cooler story and hid it in the pages of the one that actually went to press. So instead of just saying “Hey, Order of the Phoenix was kind of a letdown, I hope there’s more ninjas in the next book,” they said “Rowling is a genius because I wanted ninjas and she’s definitely going to give them to me, I have the gum wrappers to prove it.”

The same thing happened all over again when the BBC Sherlock show took a turn for the nonsensical. I don’t know from BBC Sherlock, but I watched the fascinating video critique by Hbomberguy, and it sounds like the show did tons of plot twists until it stopped making sense altogether in the fourth season. If you skip to 1:09:00 in the video, you’ll hear about fan theories that suggested that season four was supposed to be crappy, as part of a secret meta-narrative plan that would be paid off in a secret, unannounced episode that would not only explain everything, but retroactively justify the crappy episodes that came before. But it’s been a few years and it never came to pass, so I think we can call this myth busted.

Most recently, I think we’ve all seen a lot of talk about the final season of Supernatural, where I guess Destiel sort of became canon but only one guy does the love confession and the other doesn’t respond. But I guess he does say “I love you too” in the Spanish dub, which means the English language version was edited for whatever reason. It’s not exactly a secret episode, but the implication is that there’s more to this than what made it to the screen. So the questions turn to what the screenplay said, what the writers and actors wanted to do, etc. etc. My general impression is that SPN fans are a bit more used to crushing disappointment, so they’re not quite as delusional about this show being unquestionable genius, like Sherlock and Harry Potter. Maybe this is an Anglophile thing? Like, if you suck at something with a British accent, people will accept it more unconditionally?

I had seen something on Twitter about how there should have been a secret Seinfeld episode in the 90′s. Someone suggested it at the time, they tape a whole episode, then wait until 2020 to air it, because by then it would be worth a fortune. But they didn’t do it, because it costs a lot of money to make a TV episode, and if you don’t air the show right away, you aren’t making that money back any time soon. Yeah, you might recoup a fortune someday, but Seinfeld was making a ton of money then. It exposes the fannish nature of the idea. A fan would love to discover a cool secret chapter, but a content creator isn’t necessarily keen on making a cool thing and then hiding it where few people would find it.

I thought about doing this myself recently. Maybe Supernatural gave me the bug, but I thought “I’m writing this big-ass story, so what if I wrote me a secret chapter for it? Wouldn’t that be cool?” But no, it wouldn’t be cool, because it’d be the same work as writing a regular chapter, and the same stress I feel when I hold off on publishing it. Except I’d just never publish it, I’d put it in some secret hole on the internet and hope that some superfan who might not even exist can decode whatever clues I leave.

I mean, it’d be awesome if it got discovered and everyone loved it. “Hey, I found this hidden chapter! Mike’s done it again!” And I could bask in the glory. But what if no one finds it? Then I just wasted my time, right? I want people to read my work. My monkey brain needs the sweet, sweet validation of those kudos and comments, folks. Once I realized that, I understood why no one else would want to do a secret chapter either. Easter eggs are one thing, but the bigger bonus features they put on DVDs were pretty easy to find, and with good reason.

I think that’s what made the Stanley Parable so appealing to play, because it teases you with the idea that you can “break” the game and find some extra content that you weren’t supposed to see, but as you go exploring all those hidden areas, it gradually becomes clear that this is just part of the game; you were meant to find all these things, and that’s why they were put here. It’s hidden, but he secret aspect of it is just pretend.

I suppose that what I like about games like TSP and Superliminal is the illusion of secrets more than the secrets themselves. I like roaming through the hallways, having no idea what I might find ahead. I kind of wish I could open all the doors, and not just the ones the game designers put stuff behind, but the reality is that there’s nothing on the other side. I used a cheat code once to explore the unused doors in TSP and it’s just a bright white field on the other side. Interesting to look at, but not much of a reveal. Honestly, the doors themselves are more appealing than anything that could lay behind them.

And that’s probably what makes secrets so fun. They could be almost anything, but once you open the present, the number of possibilities drops to one. If they had ever made that Secret BBC Sherlock Episode, I doubt it would have lived up to expectations, but fans could amuse themselves by imagining what could have been in it. In the end, though, things usually don’t justify the hype. For every Undertaker debut at Survivor Series 1990, there’s a Gobbledygooker debut at Survivor Series 1990. It’s impossible to manufacture a secret with a guaranteed payoff.

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violethowler · 5 years ago

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Break the Wheel

It’s a common point of discussion in the Kingdom Hearts fandom how often the main heroes are screwed over by the actions and attitudes of their various mentors. Ansem the Wise, Eraqus, the Master of Masters... Nearly every mentor figure in the series has contributed in some way to the pain the young people they interact with have endured over the course of the series.

The Master of Masters deliberately manipulated his pupils into turning against each other and starting a war to further his own agenda. The Foretellers spread that suspicion and mistrust of each other outward to the members of their respective Unions. From what we’re seeing so far, the Dandelions are removed from the Master’s direct influence and are handling the Potential Traitor discussion so much better than the Foretellers did in Back Cover, but something still clearly went wrong that left at least four of them thousands of years in the future with only vague memories of their past at best.

Birth by Sleep showed how Eraqus’ paranoia and distrust of darkness directly lead to the suffering of his pupils. His attitude toward Terra’s darkness in the beginning drove the latter to seek validation from Xehanort, who used Terra for his own agenda causing Aqua to trap herself in the Realm of Darkness to save her friend. Eraqus’ insistence that she spy on Terra and bring Ven back to the Land of Departure drove a wedge between the trio at Radiant Garden. And his willingness to kill Ventus to stop Xehanort leads to his duel with Terra and subsequent death.

Ienzo’s role in the experiments performed by the Organization’s founders prior to the fall of Radiant Garden is unclear, but his conversation with Ansem in Kingdom Hearts III suggests that the older apprentices kept him in the dark about many things and might have potentially used Ansem’s fondness for him to manipulate their mentor. This resulted in Ansem’s banishment and - if DDD is any indication - turning Ienzo into a Nobody against his will when he was only 8 years old.

Ansem himself went on to openly seek the destruction of Roxas, Xion, and Namine for the sake of his revenge against everyone who wronged him, using his prejudice against Nobodies to justify the things he did in pursuit of his goals. And despite guiding Riku to accept his own darkness in Chain of Memories, Ansem still fundamentally buys into the view of Darkness as something inherently negative, best illustrated at the end of Riku’s side of that game where DiZ attempted to make Riku choose between the “road to light” and “road to darkness”, implicitly trying to force Riku into a rigid either/or path that Riku rejects in favor of choosing “the middle road”.

This pattern has repeated often enough that when fans on Twitter shared screenshots of Dark Road from the game’s prematurely leaked website showing Master Odin, several fans - myself included - began eagerly anticipating the ways in which this pattern of old men failing the young would rear its head in Xehanort’s time as an apprentice.

The fact that this pattern appears so consistently across the entire Kingdom Hearts timeline is not an accident. The entire starting point of the Heroine’s Journey is built around the idea that the protagonist’s environment - parents, mentors, peers, sometimes even their entire society - has failed them in some way[1]. By forcing them to adhere to a rigid binary of what traits are considered desirable versus undesirable, it forces people who do not fit those standards to cut themselves off from vital parts of who they are in order to be recognized and validated.

So when the younger generation grows up with these standards and is called to fix the mistakes of their elders, they are expected to do so on their mentors’ terms[2]. In doing so, they will ultimately continue the cycle that led to those problems in the first place. But the central protagonist of the Heroine’s Journey is different. The qualities which set them apart are the same ones that allow them to think outside of this rigid binary and ultimately break that cycle. In the course of their growth, the main character learns to create a new, better world not by vanquishing a villain who represents the failures of the old one, but by healing the wounds those failures created.

Kairi said it best in Kingdom Hearts III that Sora’s journey is about helping people, many of whom he’s never met before. This is significant because the protagonist breaking out of the cycle has commonly taken the form of learning to solve problems with compassion and understanding instead of violence and punishment[1]. The main character cannot improve the world around them by simply killing the villain and calling it a day. In order to achieve meaningful change they need to help the people who have been hurt by this rigid cycle. And as the contrast between Sora’s attitudes towards the dying Organization members in Kingdom Hearts II and III demonstrates, that includes the same villains he’s fighting against. Yes, even Xehanort.

Because when you look back and think about it, every non-Disney antagonist in the Kingdom Hearts series is shown to be motivated by the pain and/or trauma inflicted on them by the worldview of their peers and mentors, which they then took out on the people around them.

Marluxia as Lauriam was powerless to stop Strelitzia’s murder, and then he lost all memory of his past when he arrived in the present from the Age of Fairy Tales. That knowledge casts his behavior in Chain of Memories as someone trying to control the people around him as a proxy to feel like he has control over his own life[3].

Ienzo’s words when Ansem returns in Kingdom Hearts III[4] and the fact that he was a child [5] when Radiant Garden fell[6] paint his words toward Riku in Chain of Memories about the latter destroying his home as Zexion projecting the repressed guilt over the destruction of his home onto Riku.

Saix’s cruelty toward Roxas and Xion in 358/2 Days is revealed in Kingdom Hearts III to have been driven by jealousy towards Axel and the feeling that he was being abandoned and replaced[7].

All of these characters’ villainous actions can be traced back to the influence of the mentor figures of their generation. Marluxia’s survivor’s guilt over Strelitzia’s death is the result of her killer attempting to defy the manipulations of the Master of Masters. Saix was gaslit about his own humanity by Xemnas and Xigbar for over a decade with Xemnas’ manipulation and whatever effect Norting had on him on top of that. Ienzo’s conversation with Ansem in Kingdom Hearts III indicates that he didn’t fully understand what Ansem’s adult apprentices were doing around him when they were conducting their experiments, and the flashback at the start of Dream Drop Distance suggests he had not become a Nobody of his own volition.

Xehanort too, is someone who was hurt by this destructive cycle. The things he indicates he saw during his world tour - people refusing to acknowledge the darkness in their own hearts and allowing it to grow [8] - showed him the consequences of repressing one’s darkness and negative emotions as he and Eraqus were taught. He wanted to change this, but he was still so entrenched in that system that the best he could think of ultimately amounted to the same rigid viewpoint but flipped so that darkness was on top.

The merciless death many fans felt Xehanort deserved would only reinforce the “darkness evil, light good” worldview that Riku’s redemption arc was built on overturning. In order to truly heal the wounds created by the rigid belief system that made the villain who they are, the protagonist needs to be able to extend their compassion and sympathy even to their greatest enemies, or else it fundamentally breaks the narrative. The idea that there should be limits or conditions on such compassion is exactly the kind of mentality that led Eraqus to try and kill Terra and Ventus in Birth by Sleep. It doesn’t mean the main characters will ever forgive the villain(s) for what they’ve done, but that they are choosing to let go. To focus their energy on self-care and rebuilding, instead of more violence and more destruction[2].

Regardless of how individual fans feel about it, Xehanort being treated with dignity in his final moments needed to happen in order to show Sora’s growth. If Kingdom Hearts III had given Xehanort a violent demise like some of us wanted, it would have been a betrayal of the Heroine’s Journey’s major themes. Treating opponents with sympathy and compassion is a critical element of the framework, and is necessary in order to allow the protagonist to break free of the destructive mentality that created the story’s overarching conflict in the first place.

Sources:

[1] “The Heroine with a Thousand Faces”; June 13, 2019;

https://www.teampurplelion.com/heroine-with-a-thousand-faces/

[2] “On Love and Lions Part 1: An Analysis of Love in VLD”; February 14, 2020. https://www.teampurplelion.com/on-love-and-lions-1/

[3] Analysis of Marluxia by @mlhelena; https://mlhelena.tumblr.com/post/185211447430/thought-that-ive-been-nursing-for-a-while

[4] Kingdom Hearts III. Square Enix, 2019.

[5] Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep. Square Enix, 2010.

[6] Kingdom Hearts 3D: Dream Drop Distance. Square Enix, 2012.

[7] Concerning Atypical Heart Regrowth in Nobodies: Saïx Case Study by dicax; June 23, 2019.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19329115

[8] Kingdom Hearts III Re:Mind. Square Enix, 2020.

#kingdom hearts and the heroine's journey #kingdom hearts meta #kh analysis

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years ago

Note

Here, have a free pass to ramble about losleep!! -space anon

LOSLEEP RAMBLING YOU SAY

today’s losleep rambling sponsored by @blinksinbewilderment who gave me a prompt thingy to talk about: prince!Remy and knight!Logan losleep. also she looked it over (which is code speak for I wanted someone to read it while I couldn’t post it and she also did some editing while she read it and I believe in credit where credit’s due)

Warnings because I wrote this while my tumblr was nerfed so it got REAL long: Mentions of war/fighting/blood/injury, (false) belief that a main character is dead, not eating/sleeping, grief, but all and all a happy ending because Me

-So Remy’s a prince

-He’s as expected- slacker, not very interested in running a kingdom, mostly messes around in his room and goes between sleeping (rarely) and reading (excessively, since no twitter to scroll through in these times)

-Logan’s a peasant in one of the towns under the monarchy’s power

-He wants to be a scholar, but like I said… peasant

-He can’t afford proper teaching

-He also can’t read or write

-He’s very smart, of course, but there’s only so much you can learn from village elders and the such

-So Logan applies to get proper teaching from royal teachers

-No one accepts him, of course- he’s a peasant, why would they?

-He’s hanging around the area near the castle a lot, though, and eventually someone mentions to him that the only job he’d ever get at the castle would be as a guard

-So Logan figures, hey, at least with that he’d be in proximity of royal teachers and such

-So he becomes a guard

-Well

-Guard in training

-But, like with everything else, he takes very well to learning the sword

-And reflexes and fighting and protecting and all of that

-He ends up at the top of the ranks, tossed in with the group being considered for a new head of guard

-Head of guard not only organizes the squadrons and their patrols, but is also personal guard to the prince

-The most recent one was thrown out after being found conspiring against the prince, so this time, the prince himself will be helping to select his head of guard

-For reasons of trust and such

-Remy comes mostly before a dozen or so strong men fighting for the right to spend time with him can’t be that bad of a time, right?

-Logan catches his eye, not just because of his muscles (though that does help) but also for his skill- in his battles, he never has the physical upperhand… but he always wins with the strategical one

-Remy catches him in between battles, moving and speaking with ease and charm

-Most of the guards bow easily and greet him warmly, looking to be favored

-Logan doesn’t

-His bow and greeting are perfunctory, done of duty and training alone

-He keeps his eyes on Remy, but they’re bored, and Logan’s stiff. The prince does not excite him, especially not just by existing

-Remy should be offended

-But he isn’t

-He’s… intrigued

-‘so. looking to be head guard?’

-‘I’m looking to be whatever you need me to be, my highness’

-‘well then, would you be looking to be my head guard if I asked you to?’

-‘of course, your highness’

-‘and what if I told you to be head guard you had to call me beautiful?’

-‘then I suppose I wouldn’t be head guard, your highness’

-Remy just smirks

-He can work with this

-So Logan becomes head guard

-He’s only thrilled a little since being around the castle will likely mean more chances to hear information, to learn more

-But he’s mostly stuck with the prince who, in his honest opinion, is a moron

-Prince Remy’s flighty and daydreamy and cares more about his looks and flirting than the kingdom

-Logan will give him half points for being pretty enough to warrant part of his confidence but that’s about it

-The problem, however, is that for how much Logan dislikes Remy?

-Remy just loves him

-Not romantically though (not yet anyways)

-But he loves Logan as a person. Loves his stubbornness and his principals and his looks and his muscles and his brain

-Especially his brain! Logan may not know much (or speak much) but when he does, it’s always so… refined, especially for a peasant

-Remy just knows there’s more to him than meets the eye

-So he drags Logan around the castle, walking beside the head guard as he talks endlessly, mostly jokes and flirts and compliments

-Logan mostly ignores him or gives him odd stares, but every once in a while…

-Well

-Seems not even the ‘emotionless’ guard is completely impervious to his charms

-Logan, if asked, would say he is

-(But he’s a liiiiiii-arrrrrrr)

-It all comes to a head three or four weeks after Logan is promoted to head guard

-Remy’s strolling them through a garden

-Logan’s focusing between the flowers and the area past the garden walls, looking for security threats

-That is, at least, until Remy completely catches his attention

-‘And you see, here, the common poppy, also known as the papaver rhoeas, or as I call it, the sleepy bitch flower-’

-‘wait. say that again’

-(no ‘your highness’ because Remy got sick of that within two days. He told Logan to call him ‘Remy’ or any variation of ‘beautiful’ he liked, but Logan seemed content to simply use neither)

-‘sleepy bitch flower?’

-‘no, no- the, the name you called it after ‘common poppy’’

-And Remy tilts his head with some confusion before he repeats the scientific name

-Logan’s eyes light up

-‘how do you know that?’

-‘well… I am a prince. I’ve had an expensive education’

-‘can you-’

-Logan cuts himself off before he can finish his thought, shaking his head mostly to himself and going back to looking for threats

-Because he wanted to know if Remy could teach him, make this worthwhile, let him actually get at that knowledge he had been seeking for as long as he could remember

-But Remy was a highly educated prince. Why would he want to help teach some peasant who’s quick with a sword?

-But Remy isn’t letting this drop

-‘can I what?’

-Logan doesn’t respond. Remy frowns

-‘guard, I’m ordering you to tell me what you were going to say’

-And Logan grimances, because he can’t defy a direct order, as much as he’d like to, so he sighs and finally turns back towards Remy

-‘can you teach me’ he says, lamely, not even a question, really, hoping that Remy won’t respond to it, especially since Logan could already feel his reactions: anger, disgust, maybe amusement as if it were some sort of impossible joke

-That wasn’t his reaction

-Instead, Remy smiled, and tilted his head even further

-‘I’d be happy to, if you really want, hun’

-Logan’s… surprised, to say the least

-‘you… really? No jokes?’

-‘none. swear it on this patch of sleepy bitch flowers’

-So Logan starts getting an education

-Instead of wandering all day long, he and Remy sit down in Remy’s room, where he’ll pull a book at random off the shelf and start teaching Logan from it

-It’s not easy, at first, especially with having to teach Logan how to read and write

-But they do have a lot of time, so eventually, Logan has the alphabet down, and he’s starting to be able to spell all those complicated words he can say with ease

-It’s about two weeks into all the learning that Remy breaks the schedule they had fallen into

-‘y’know, Logan, all this has been fun, but I’m starting to feel a little taken advantage of’

-‘…how so?’

-‘well, babes, I’m teaching you all this stuff, and yet getting nothing in return. I think that’s going to have to change’

-Logan’s not sure what Remy could possibly want from him. He’s just a peasant guard, after all, he has no riches that the crown cannot outmatch with ease. All he really has is himself and… oh

-‘I’m not entirely sure why I would be your first choice for, eh… such, um, matters, your highness, but if that is, eh, what you… require, than, uh, I-’

-Remy raises a hand and silences Logan

-‘firstly, sugar, I think I told you to stop calling me ‘your highness.’ secondly, I was gonna ask you to teach me the ways of the blade or whatever. What were you thinkin’?’

-Logan doesn’t answer, just staring at Remy as his entire face steadily turns a very bright shade of red

-Remy stares back, still confused, until his eyes widen in understanding. His face quickly also becomes red.

-‘…I see. uh, please… please never think that, just uh, never, ever think that again. um. yes’

-So, horrible miscommunication and following insane awkwardness aside, Remy is now getting sword lessons!

-They can only practice at night, however, because Remy’s parents and kingdom are based on a foundation of peace

-The prince should look pretty and be smart and uphold peace, not be weapons training

-But it’s fine, because Remy’s already used to nighttime environments and Logan say it’ll help with his night vision/night fighting, should he ever need it

-So now they’re learning by day, fighting by night, and sleeping during dawn and dusk

-All sounds good, right?

-Well it gets even BETTER

-Because, really, there’s only so much time two pretty gays can spend around each other and remain uninterested in the other

-Helps that Remy’s never been exactly ‘uninterested’

-And that, for all he protests it, Logan has always found an odd sort of charm to Remy’s… Remy-ness

-So things, as they are ought to do, start happening

-Hands brushing more often as Remy passes Logan papers and quills, his smile never changing no matter how many times he saw Logan’s eyes light up as he learned something new, Remy always congratulating Logan on a day well spent in a soft tone matched with a sincere smile

-Remy constantly seeming to need Logan to readjust his grip on his sword, Remy favoring moves that forces him and Logan right beside each other as they trade blows, Remy still stumbling despite being such a quick learner (but he only ever stumbles when Logan can catch him, and he always seems to linger in the soldier’s arms. doesn’t help that Logan lets him)

-The trip back to his sleeping quarters seeming to become more tedious every time Logan has to make it, one time even falling asleep for a minute halfway there, making it easy for Remy to convince him that it’s quicker, and safer, if Logan just shares his bed when it’s time to sleep. to protect him better from attacks twenty-four/seven Remy says

-Because it’s just for protection, really, when Remy curls up against Logan, and Logan wraps his arms around him, just protection to hold him close, because if there’s an attack he’ll be able to get Remy moving as quickly as possible, and like this he’s blocking attackers from getting to the majority of Remy’s torso, which is very important

-It’s also important to be warm

-And to be able to nestle his head on top of Remy’s

-And to listen to Remy mumble in his sleep quietly and nonsensically and yet beautifully

-But that’s still all for protection, clearly, since a warm, talking Remy held close to Logan is a safe, living one

-And those are the only reasons he’s doing any of this

-Clearly

-Things continue like that for a few months

-Fleeting glances, prolonged touches, too much sincerity in what should be harmless flirts and pet-names

-Talk starts up, of course, between the guards and the lords and such

-Talk of the head guard who has a much too close relationship with the prince

-The two of them spend all day with each other, they whisper, and they spend all night out and about doing something, something explicit, likely

-Logan’s not even reporting to the barracks, anymore; stopping by in the mornings to assign their stations for the day, but never for bed, never to sleep

-It doesn’t take a fool to guess where he must be sleeping instead

-Remy and Logan mostly ignore it

-They don’t care, after all

-Logan is still the guard Remy’s chosen and trusts

-Logan still protects Remy, and he would do so with his life if it came to it

-The king and queen, luckily, also don’t mind

-It helps that Remy has made it clear to them, multiple times, that he and Logan are close, yes, but not like that

-They’re just friends, he says, and he’s not lying, even if he almost wished he was

-So they allow it

-But it’s a grim reminder, the day Remy finds a book of royal etiquette left in front of his door, a very specific page marked

-Royals marry Royals or Nobles

-They do not hold relationships with peasants

-And they are never officalized

-Ever

-‘it’s not pertinent information to us’ Logan says when Remy drops it on the table

-‘nope.’ Remy agrees. He smirks at Logan, but it’s slightly more flat than it should be, doesn’t carry the right weight with it. ‘thought if you fall in love with me, let me know’

-Logan smirks back at him, but it’s also flat, also wrong

-‘not a problem’ he says

-But it already is

-But it’s alright

-They’re alright

-They still have their lessons

-Logan still protects Remy (from day to night, and from dusk to dawn)

-Remy’s still… not dead

-So they’re fine

-It’s fine

-Everything’s fine

-Until it isn’t

-There’s an attack from a western nation

-The kingdom’s thrown into war

-And they need soldiers

-When they say that they have to take Logan away for the fight, Remy protests as much as he possibly can

-He needs a head guard! There are plenty of men who can go! Why must it be Logan?

-Because Logan’s a strong fighter. He’s tough. He’s one of the best guards they have. They’ll replace him with five guards, Remy will be safe, they promise

-When Remy spits at them that they know that’s not why he’s upset they just look away from him and say they’re sorry

-It hurts to say goodbye

-Logan tries to tell Remy he’s going to make it back, tries to promise that he’ll return

-Remy just shakes his head and asks him not to

-Because they both know he can’t promise that

-And Remy can’t take that false hope

-So they just say goodbye

-And pretend neither of them want to cry (because they do, but Logan’s a head guard being sent to battle and Remy’s a prince with an image to maintain)

-And Remy pretends he’s just staying by the gate as long as he can see the troops marching off for the fresh air

-And Logan pretends that he just keeps glancing back as long as the castle’s within sight to check that all the men are keeping in file

-The time they spend apart is… hard

-Remy doesn’t sleep as well, the bed colder, and his dreams always nightmares now, bloody and much too realistic

-In the middle of a warzone, Logan isn’t sleeping any better

-Remy has nothing to do with his time anymore, no lessons he can teach or learn, his love for books gone sour without Logan

-Logan is constantly thrown into battles, fighting not necessarily for his life but for the one he had with Remy, fighting to get home

-After six months, Logan is taken captive in battle

-He’s only a prisoner for three days, however- the troop that caught him is unorganized, mostly untrained; his bindings are loose, his guard is easily distracted, and by the nightfall of the third day he’s gone

-But Logan’s injured, a bad leg cut alongside the common scrapes and bruises

-He makes it to a forest near the battle zone, and gets as far into it as he can, because he knows he won’t survive trying to cross the warzone to get back to his squadron

-He makes his way through the forest instead, surviving on plants he knows are edible thanks to his lessons with Remy

-But by the time he gets to the other side… his squadron is gone

-Moved on to a new fight

-And he’s officially MIA

-Back at home, Remy knows none of this

-His parents are getting updates from the war, but they refuse to tell him anything but vague details of general stats

-Remy almost prefers not knowing

-If Logan really was hurt or a prisoner or…

-Well

-Remy’d just rather not know

-At seven months, the nation warring against them offers to establish a peace treaty

-But only on one condition- that Remy is the one to negotiate with them

-It’s clearly a trap, the nation clearly hoping that the inexperienced prince will be a poor negotiator

-But Remy agrees, because he doesn’t care what it takes

-He wants peace

-He wants Logan home

-They meet at a neutral point, beside the road that is between both their territories

-Each bring the same amount of guards, who all station themselves at equal points around the area, to serve not just as protection but also as witnesses to the deal to be made

-Everything goes fine enough at first

-The nation’s king makes a demand, Remy matches with something lower, they come to a compromise and move on

-Remy knows he could probably be bargaining harder, longer, for better peace and better benefits for his kingdom, but he doesn’t care. He just wants this all over with

-Eventually, however, things go south

-The warring king makes too high of a demand, and Remy can’t offer him anything he’ll take

-He gets frustrated by Remy’s offers and he draws his sword

-The warring king shouldn’t even have had the sword on him, not at this meeting of peace, but Remy’s not surprised when he draws it. No one brings a sword to a peace meeting and doesn’t use it

-His parents hadn’t allowed him to bring his own, but that’s alright

-Logan had known he’d never be given a sword

-So it’s more instinct than thought when he reaches over and steals the sword of the guard beside him, the move one he had practiced many a time before

-He takes a single step back as he does, avoiding the jab the warring king makes at him with ease

-It’s three slashes to get the king’s balance thrown off, the sword thrown behind him and barely in his grip

-Remy turns to the side just enough to elbow the king in the chest, hard

-The king stumbles, falling, his sword fully slipping out of his grasp and sliding across the ground

-Remy puts a foot on the king’s chest, presses the tip of his blade to the base of his throat

-None of the guards move

-It is clear that the battle started is a problem of the negotiators, not them

-Remy leans down, putting more weight on the king’s chest as he does so, sword tipping moving up to rest uncomfortably close against the top of his neck, just below his chin

-‘this war ends tonight’ he says, voice low and and serious and deadly. ‘the only choice you have left in the matter is whether or not I seal the peace treaty with your blood’

-The king agrees to a peace treaty that easily favors Remy’s kingdom by an insane degree, but he does walk away with his life, so it balances out in the end

-The troops and soldiers and guards come home

-Remy is ecstatic

-Ecstatic until it’s been two hours of men straggling home and nowhere amongst them is Logan

-His parents eventually pull him aside and tell him the truth

-Logan’s been missing for a month and a half, last heard of as being a prisoner to the other side

-He’s assumed KIA, but officially he’s just MIA

-Remy’s… well, Remy’s a lot of things

-Angry, at first, that they never told him, that he didn’t have a chance to force a peace earlier, to find a way to help him sooner

-Then desperate, talking to every soldier he can, hoping for any hint, any information, anything that might lead him to Logan, to even lead him to believe he’s still alive

-But no one has any good information, nothing to put him at ease, nothing to help him, only to hurt him even more

-So then he’s just… well, sad isn’t quite it

-He feels more numb

-Empty

-As much as it hurt to exist away from Logan, it hurts even worse to be forced to exist without him, likely forever without him

-He no longer has nightmares, but he doesn’t dream, either, just sleeping and waking and barely recognizing the gap in time

-Remy wanders the palace, because there’s nothing else to do, and sitting still just makes the void in his stomach settle in place and hurt worse, so he keeps walking, endlessly in circles with little regard for how long he does for any stretch of time

-It’s been two weeks since the soldiers returned home

-Remy’s out in the garden

-It’s late, but what does he care?

-Day, night, light, dark… it doesn’t matter anymore

-None of them have Logan in them

-So he’s in the garden, wandering past the flowers and plants with very little care

-He stops by the patch of poppies, still alive and blooming even though it’s been roughly a year since Logan asked Remy to teach him

-He brushes his fingers against them

-‘Common poppies’ he says, because Logan liked it when he’d list the plants and flowers and their names, common and scientific, because it was knowledge and learning and Remy loved it too because his eyes would always light up and-

-‘Common poppies’ he repeats, voice now sounding choked as he fights back tears, ‘also known as papa- as papaver rhoeas’ he manages, and he’s stumbling over the words and the pronunciations are wrong but that’s okay, really, it’s not like anyone cares now, especially not now that- that-

-‘I think I prefer to call them sleepy bitch flowers’

-Remy turns so fast his vision blurs (which might also have to do with the lack of sleep and his non-existent appetite and the tears he’s one hundred percent sure are in his eyes and running down his face)

-He almost doesn’t believe his eyes

-But that tone? That reference? That voice?

-Remy knows it even before he sees him standing there, in the middle of the garden, looking dirty and tired but alive, oh so very alive

-It’s Logan

-He’s next to him before either of them can so much as blink, holding Logan’s face in both of his hands, looking him over

-‘Are you alright?’ he asks, because that’s what matters first, matters now that he’s here and with him

-‘More than’ Logan answers. He’s tired, yes, and there’s still a healing scar on his leg, but it’s been two months and he knows how to take care of himself, knew how to get what he needed as he fought his way home, giving up on finding his troops and instead focused on finding his way back to Remy, on finding his way back home

-And now that he’s here, now that he is home… he’s almost certain he could fly

-Remy nods to himself, glancing over Logan again, finding him dirty and ragged and a little bloody but he really is okay, really is alright, and he looks back up, finally, looks in those crystal blue eyes that he’s been missing for too long, and it’s not a choice so much as a need when he pulls Logan forward and kisses him

-It lasts for a mere second, Remy pulling back almost immediately after he moved forwards

-They pause, looking at each other, eyes wide, both surprised

-And then they kissed again

-It lasts longer this time, like it’s meant to, the kiss filled with desperation and fear as if the other will suddenly disappear again, as if this isn’t the beginning of their forever but instead the end of it

-But it’s also filled with hope, with hope and promise and love, filled with every bit of wishful thinking and misplaced hope that they had throughout it all, all of it building up to one thing, to one moment- this one, right here, right now

-When they pull away this time, they’re breathless

-Logan’s hands had moved to hold Remy’s waist, while Remy’s still cradling Logan’s face, and even when they pull away they press their foreheads together because they just can’t let there be space between them not now, and likely not for a long time

-‘I’m going to marry you’ Remy promises, fervently, and maybe hastily, but he really can’t bring himself to care at all

-Logan laughs, and it’s watery but it’s genuine, ‘I don’t think you can do that’

-‘Don’t care. I’m going to marry you and make you my king and you’re never going to get sent away to any stupid war ever, ever again and I’m not going to- I’m never going to lo- to lose you again because I- I can’t-’

-Logan’s arms slip from their place at Remy’s hips to wrap around his back instead, holding him close as Remy sobbed into his shoulder, and Logan cried too, Remy’s arms moving to hold Logan too

-They stayed like that for several minutes, holding each other and crying, every once in a while murmuring something, sometimes a promise or partial sentence but mostly just the other’s name

-Eventually they start to sag even more heavily against each other, Logan tired from his journeys and the remnants of his injuries, Remy tired from sleepless nights and feeling so empty for so long

-They stumble to Remy’s room, to Remy’s bed, to their bed, still holding each other even as they fall onto it, curling into each other as they get comfortable

-In the morning, Remy will call the court doctor and make sure Logan’s truly okay, and wrap and bind and take care of whatever they need to

-They’ll then go to face Remy’s parents, together, still holding each other, as Remy declares he’s going to marry him, regardless of what they say or think

-His parents will protest it for a moment, but not long

-And they’ll begin the wedding preparations as soon as possible

-But for now, they’ll sleep, holding each other close, finally warm, finally close, finally whole again

#guys when I say long I mean LONG #this is over 4k!!!!#so only read when you got the time dcvdscvdsjc #losleep #ts remy #ts sleep #ts logan #the cryptid speaks #the cryptid answers #space anon #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sander sides #blink #sleepy bitch flowers: the musc- shit I mean- the bullet fic

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vincent-g-writer · 5 years ago

Text

The Silver Screen Savant: Thoughts on Hollywood Autism, Pt. 1

When I was a child, I didn’t fit in.

A common statement, many people empathize with. However, to say “I didn’t fit in,” is a gross understatement. I stuck out like a sore thumb, and at times, still do. Now, why was this, you may ask? Well, there are things I could name. A banal little checklist of traits and characteristics would probably do the trick. But I’m not sure that would do it justice. So I’ll tell you what it felt like:

I had trouble reading facial expressions, because people’s face, and hands, and body would say one thing, while their words said another. Smiles that didn’t reach the eyes. Laughs that were a little too hearty, or loud, or hollow. Disingenuous conversations and actions frustrated me. If lying was wrong, why were, as my mother used to call them “little white lies” acceptable? Why did we smile and thank our new neighbors for their homemade casserole dish, before promptly throwing it away when they left? These things, and many others, puzzled me. But the thing that puzzled me the most, was interacting with my peers. I didn’t understand the sensation of a hundred million bees, pricking me with electric anxiety when I went to school, or played with children in the neighborhood. I didn’t understand why they weren’t constantly talking, wondering, asking- about everything. I didn’t understand how their minds worked. Most of all, I didn’t understand why it physically hurt me to look into people’s eyes, child and adult alike. On the other hand, I did notice they didn’t like me very much. “You’re weird,” they would sneer. Or “you talk too much.” And, they were right. I knew they were. Even as I would wax poetic about all sorts of nonsense, like the difference between a cocoon and a chrysalis. I knew. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t shut myself off.

And that’s just one tiny example, of a lifetime.

Back then, if you’d asked what was “wrong” with me, on a good day, I would have shrugged. Other times, when I despised every fiber of my being, I’d parrot back the sentiments of my peers. “Freak,” “loser,” and “r*tard” were words I heard often. And for a long time, I believed them.

Today, I know differently. Not to say the above struggles no longer apply. If anything, some of them are worse. But now, I now longer blame or hate myself for being different. Now, I understand.

The Lightbulb Moment

In 2014, my daughter began speaking. She was four years old. Before then, she could say “dada,” “juice,” “two,” and “go.” The rest was garbled noises, when and if she made a sound. Most of the time, she didn’t. My wife and I were concerned, to say the least. But it wasn’t exactly a new worry. My princess never crawled, never pointed to get people’s attention, or show them things, and did not play with toys. Plus a host of other concerns. So we hopped on Google, and after about, oh, half an hour of research, got in touch with a doctor. Now, I feel like I must add the caveat here that we wanted to have her seen before then. However, many issues (including a bout of homelessness) prevented that. So we were a bit…late, in that regard. No matter. Her doc sent her to a local play therapist, and after about fifteen minutes of interaction, the therapist knew exactly what was going on: Our little Princess was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder.

But wait! There’s more-

Once this became clear, my wife started looking into other things. Her own independent research, as it were. She kept it to herself for a month or three, then avalanched it all into my lap . Our Princess wasn’t the only one, as it turned out. And really, had I ever bothered to look…it was obvious. But I was in denial. I couldn’t possibly be autistic. So, like the stubborn Taurus I am, I dug my heels in. I refused to discuss it, for almost year. But, my beloved wife, who is much smarter and wiser than I am, knew what to do. In the name of “research for Princess,” she had me read a list of common autistic traits/symptoms. And it all came crashing down. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was, without a doubt, also on the spectrum.

The gift of the Media: Fear, self hatred, stigma…superpowers?

Now, you might be asking, why exactly did I doubt myself? Cultural association, of course. And by “cultural association,” what I really mean is “the media.” Mostly, anyway. See, I’ve noticed a trend. In movies, tv and books, autism is usually presented in one of two ways: The Rainman, or the Idiot Perma-child, who cannot care for themselves. And I’m neither.

On the one hand, I was a straight A student. I could sleep through classes and make 100%. I was reading by the age of three or four, and I graduated highschool at fifteen. On the other, I have been known to go a full forty-eight hours without eating, because I “didn’t think about it.”

But I’m not the autistic person you see on tv. Now, that isn’t to say those people don’t exist. They do. For example, my daughter deals with much more noticable struggles than I ever have, while I have another member of my family (also on the spectrum) who is a certifiable genius. And I’ve known many others who are “obviously” autistic, whereas I pass as allistic* (see footnotes below) easily. Which is a sad discourse altogether, really. One the one hand, an “obviously” autistic person, what one might call “Low Functioning” (I could write a whole other post about why “low/high functioning” labels are harmful, however, for the sake of brevity, there’s some here, here and here) are often boiled down only to their struggles, where as people such as myself are relegated to “Not autistic enough to be my problem” or “well, you don’t look autistic.”

To quote-

“The difference between high-functioning autism and low functioning is that high-functioning means your deficits are ignored, and low-functioning means your assets are ignored.” -Laura Tisoncik

Why is this? As you might have guessed from the title of this post- I put a lot of it on the shoulders of the entertainment we consume. Nevermind certain hate organizations who swath themselves in the cloak of “advocacy” such as Autism Speaks, and Anti-Vaxcers, who think it’s better to have a dead child than an autistic one.*

I could go on. At length. However, I’m going to try and stay on track, just this once. To put it plainly, Hollywood Autism often works exactly like “high” and “low” functioning labels: We’re either uplifted to inhuman portrayals of superpowered savants, or downgraded to an “inspirational” invalid. In these stories, we’re props. The “Magical Disabled person!” as Tv Tropes puts it, there to uplift the neurotypical character from their adversity. After all, if this poor dumb sod (i.e- me) can be happy with their burdensome life, surely the pretty white able-bodied protagonist can! We’re “funny,” “scary,” or “sympathetic,” characters, who lack dimension, and nuance. We’re “inhuman.” We’re the lesser. Or at least, that’s one way it’s written. The other is the hyper intelligent, almost “superhuman,” and definitely super jackass genius, who’s much too smart™, and logical© to ever have feelings, friends or empathy. That’s it folks! That’s the show!

That’s what books, tv and movies told me, anyway. And what I truly believed for a long time. It’s why I cringed away in terror and shame when my spectrum issues were finally noticed. And why it took me so long to come to terms with it.

So, there you have it. Part 1. On the next episode, I’ll give some examples, both good and bad, and maybe even a little “what not to do,” or at least a “please consider real hard before doing this in your own work.”

If you like writing, talking about bad tropes and even worse marginalized representation, you can follow me at wordpress or at my “still has that new car smell” twitter. For now- thanks for reading.

-Your loving Vincent

*allistic= Non autistic.

*Vaccines do NOT cause Autism, however, if they DID, it would still be better to have an autistic child than one who died at the ripe old age of “easily preventable but deadly communicable disease.”

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csykora · 6 years ago

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hey i was reading your post about evgeny kusnetsov and alexander semin (the friendship necklace one) and i got into hockey somewhat recently but i've heard/read some things about sasha and i was wondering if you could give me a rundown/what your perspective is? you mentioned cultural assimilation, but also social class, ethnic identity, ability, neurodiversity, and trauma and i was really curious what exactly you were talking about??

First, that’s cool you’re getting into hockey! How’s that going? I hope you’re having fun. Second…thanks for making me reread my old writing as we come up on the New Year ;)

That was one of my very first posts, and I think it reads like it—I definitely wasn’t much of a sports writer back then, and (I don’t think) I tell stories quite the same way now.

I don’t think some of those words I used mean much, except that I was angry. So I’d like to spell out what made, makes, me angry. The first half of this is stuff I’ve said before, more organized, with jokes. The second half is not fun, but it’s also something I think NHL fans have a duty to think about. So I want to try to talk about Lokomotiv.

Sasha Semin is the star and captain of a quite good, more fun KHL team. Today he was named to the All-Star team, actually. KHL All-Stars is a magical place where the players sing acoustic covers and routinely set things on fire, so hopefully they’ll let him bring his sword.

(I love the KHL)

Before that, he was the cool big brother of a generation of Russian stars. In the early 2000s the first post-Soviet young players were coming of age and working out what post-Soviet, now-Russian style hockey was going to be. In that moment we got two spectacular players: Sasha from Siberia, and Sasha from Moscow.

The Soviet style of play was supposed to be egalitarian—players skated the opposition sick and pass-pass-passed, always giving it to a teammate instead of taking chances, until whoever happened to have it had a sure shot. The Alexanders grew up in that style, and they grew up fuck-off strong. They started feeding off all their teammates’ passes and beginning to gun down goalies with one of two shots: Alex Ovechkin had the one-timer, and Alex Semin had the best wristshot in the game.

Did you watch Vegas’ magic season? Pull some clips of Wild Bill Karlsson. Imagine if he had upper body strength but was just as light on his feet. That’s how inexplicably electric young Semin was.

His and then Ovi’s performances at World Juniors were so explosive they convinced American businesses to risk money on something new. Semin was oldest, and the Capitals kind of sucked, so they got him first. Then a few years later they still sucked, so they got Ovi too. Then the two of them got Nicklas Backstrom and matching line promise necklaces and played really good hockey together for a number of years.

(If anyone would like 3,000 more nicer words about the above subjects, @ me)

A couple things shaped what happened after that:

▪ Semin’s unique wrister, twisted to be almost as hard as a slapper, is like spending every night downing jägerbombs with a shot of carpal tunnel. He seems to have chronic wrist and hand problems from inflammation, with apparent flare-ups that sometimes got rest and sometimes didn’t. So that’s a factor—not the only, but a—in why he had periods of poor shooting.

▪ Either because he never really went to school or just because he’s wired that way, Semin seems to suck at math.

▪ Ovi’s hot stick and the Sid Incident (Sidcident?):

In their first interview together, Ovi described him and Sid as “partners”, and Sid asked for Ovi’s shirt. But over the first few years the League swung from branding them as buddies to making money off a rivalry, and Don Cherry started a string of bitter conflicts with Ovi.

Local journalists who knew him wrote about seeing Ovi flinch in interviews. They described him starting to hesitate, pale, tired, doubling back over answers to make sure they were watertight. We now know from Tatyana Ovechina that he was spending a lot of nights on the phone back home with her, asking if he was letting everybody down.

Sasha, who’s basically that guy on twitter who found kittens in his sock drawer and adopted them all, but with little brothers, got protective. He told Russian media that he thought Sid was a good player, but not his favorite, and said that the way the League was pushing media attention could make someone a ‘star’ even if they weren’t that good. The phrase he used means “dead wood”, or boring, useless person. The grammar he used means something like “even if he were (ie, he isn’t)”.

I think this was objectively very funny. And I still hold that anyone saying the level of exposure Sid endured was good for him or anyone sounds like the stage parents on Toddlers & Tiaras.)

But people get protective of their person, and most won’t stop for a grammar lesson before deciding what they think something meant. There was a media blitz, mostly accusing Sasha of wanting the attention Sid got, which made sense, if you didn’t know Russian or two things about him—that he’s best friends with Alex Ovechkin, and that he’d only just started to practice English with local reporters after several years. If he were an egomaniac, he was bad at it.

From his reaction it seems like he hadn’t thought his comment was that wild, and wasn’t prepared for the backlash. Next time he talked to local reporters, he brought the translator back. Asked routine questions he’d been getting for a couple years, he flinched and turned to them to rehearse every word of his answer. Asked what was up with the translator, he said “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Although teammates like Mike Knuble, Jeff Schultz, Backstrom and Ovechkin kept talking about his personable, joking side, and we’d see it plenty in practice, he started insisting to reporters that he didn’t know English and that he was boring anyway, claiming “I’m just an ordinary person, just like everybody else. The only difference is I’m out there on the ice and that’s it. I’d just rather talk about hockey.”

–> Without math or English, Semin’s career depended on his agent, Mark Gandler.

Try not to depend on Mark Gandler.

As the Globe and Mail put it, “to many Canadian hockey fans, Mark Gandler is nothing less than the Prince of Darkness.”

Mark Gandler’s business was based on presenting himself as a friendly face to young Russian athletes, and pissing of NHL franchises. I’m pro-pissing off the NHL in general; my problem with Gandler is that if he was sincerely trying to get the best deal for him clients, he was bad at it..

When anyone talks about something Semin decided, they’re talking about what Gandler decided for him. Semin was honest with the media that he had no fucking clue what Gandler was asking for in negotiations. The Caps and Gandler couldn’t agree on anything, so while Ovechkin was locked down for life, Semin was only ever signed to one and two year bridge contracts, constantly up, his performance a constant subject of discussion and every wobble obvious.

Note: the following is the bit where I got angry and A. asked why the hell I was looking at photos of this and told me to go lie on the floor and do my butterfly exercises for a while.

One year Semin’s game really sucked. It didn’t help that Ovechkin was sucking too—they both got benched, Coach got fired, and still the Capitals just kind of sucked. Around the league, Russian stars were mostly fizzling. That was the 2011-2012 season.

On September 7, 2011, the airplane carrying the Lokomotiv Yaroslavl team, coaching staff, and four youth players had overrun the runway, struck a signal tower, crashed, and caught fire moments after takeoff. Every member of the team onboard was killed.

I can’t understand, so certainly can’t explain, how that day changed the community. I’m not trying to speculate too much on anyone’s personal situation, but to point out how much more profound it was than just some other league’s trivia.

I don’t think there’s a mainstream North American parallel for the hockey community in Eastern Europe. Players are raised in a small number of hockey schools, often at that time in dormitories like the one where Semin lived in Chelyabinsk. While young North Americans are quite strictly separated by age, the Russians are growing up with older and younger kids from the same school all around them. Older teens are encouraged to mentor younger ones—Kuznetsov’s attachment to Semin is endearing, but not really so weird. Stanislav Yarushin is several years older than Sasha, and he befriended him, and then down to Kuz. In a community like that, any one person is intimately connected to the others.

From the coaches to the rookies, someone from three generations across nine nations was killed in the disaster. Each of them was connected not only to their peers, but to players older and younger than them, and to the city that raised them. Every Russian, Czech, and Slovak in the NHL lost at least one person they knew deeply.

Just that spring, Kuznetsov won gold at World Juniors with a little clique of friends. Vladimir Tarasenko, Artemi Panarin, and Dmitry Orlov are stars now, and two of the others are dead.

Kuznetsov is the one draped in the flag. #14, with the awesome hair, smiling, is Danylo Sobchenko. #12, reaching up towards the cup, is Yuri Urychev. Urychev had been injured, and supposed to stay home the day of the disaster, but he asked to be allowed to fly with them, so he could cheer for his friends.

Tarasenko himself was born in Yaroslavl, and his father played for Lokomotiv; he knew even more of the team, and if he’d taken a hometown offer instead of signing with Sibir, he would have died that day too.

The thing about a loss like this is that it keeps budding with new losses. It hadn’t been a problem with the plane, or a freak accident. Over the following month a miserable investigation revealed that the airline had fudged documents, and the pilots just didn’t know what they were doing. So as well as losing friends, the younger players lost any trust that people in authority were going to keep them safe in the future.

After the disaster, Ovechkin, Semin, and Malkin had to hold their phones waiting while Alexander Galimov (a friend from nationals) was found with burns over 80% of his body, stabilized, transported, placed in a medically-induced coma and ventilated. He finally died five days later. The day he died Tarasenko and Kuznetsov and all the others got back on their own planes and kept playing, so the NHLers just had to keeping waiting up for them, too. Now Tarasenko and Kuznetsov have little brothers on those planes. They’re better fucking planes now, because the disaster changed Russian law, but they’re still not great.

In a grim way, Semin and Ovechkin were lucky, because they had each other. At the time almost no NHL team had as many Eastern Europeans as the Caps, meaning almost all the others were alone.

Of course it just wasn’t possible for the North American public to grieve with them the way that Europe did, but how quickly it was boxed away and forgotten as a factor in players’ lives just…sucks.

You don’t just grieve somebody when you lose them; people who aren’t sure what to say will say it fades with time, but what it really does is rise and fall in waves. You grieve them when you lose them, and again when you’re as old as they were and realize how insufficient it really was, and again, when you’re older than they’ll ever be, when you’re old enough to see children their age. Like injuring your wrist, you can get back to work, but never back to exactly what you were before.

Five years later, when Tarasenko scored his 100th goal, he dedicated it to Sobchenko and Urychev.

Most of a decade later, Alex Ovechkin wears the Lokomotiv crest on his chest protector, over his heart.

So if we know all that, we can start to imagine why they sucked at hockey.

Actually, after a slow start to the season, Sasha sucked the least of all the Capitals. Always a stronger possession player than Ovechkin, Sasha actually recovered after the Caps brought in Dale Hunter, who ripped up the Goals First, Goals Always game plan and tried to make Ovi play defense. Sasha ended the season with the best possession metrics on the team (yes, including Nicke Backstrom).

His goal-scoring didn’t recover, but that was because Coach Dale was basically treating him like Ovi’s security blanket, putting him on the second line with Mojo so Ovi couldn’t cuddle him until Ovi backchecked. Mojo (this is a Science fact) is not Nicke Backstrom.

The reason the Capitals traded Semin is they desperately needed to trade someone to make up for the team’s collective failures that year, he could be traded due to his shitty contracts, and he was worth trading.

I’m not actually angry the Caps traded Semin. It made sense. I am mad the Habs did, because it was one of many decisions made by Marc Bergevin coughing up a heavily-gelled hairball on a depth chart, but hey.

Sports is hard. I don’t mean that teams should keep players who aren’t playing the way that team needs them to out of sympathy. I mean that it’s possible to say that Semin or Ovechkin sometimes play badly without saying they don’t care. It’s possible to name a practical problem without making it a moral one.

Because when we see someone not doing what we want, and we make it moral, we say, “well gosh, I can’t imagine a reason why they aren’t jazzed to do what I want right now, so there can’t be a reason, they just suck,” we’re always wrong, because we miss shit!

In 2011, the common complaint that Russian players “don’t seem to care” went from boring to breathtakingly cruel.

It’s a collective failure of empathy, where a lot of us didn’t even know that empathy’s needed. How many NHL fans don’t know Lokomotiv existed? If we don’t even know what weight another person’s carrying, we can’t possibly judge them rightly!

The athletes we’re watching aren’t just cartoon characters for American consumption, who always act and react in easily-readable ways. They’re people with beliefs, behaviors, and problems which might be meaningfully different from what we’re personally familiar with and really hard to sympathize with.

But when we see someone struggling to do what we want them to, we have to wonder why, and look around to learn more about moments like this, and then offer empathy. I believe that if we have information, most people use it to be kind. So we really fucking need historical information.

I’m back on the floor and don’t have a closer, so here’s a picture of a cat with big mitts like Sasha. His name is Peppers.

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royalberries · 5 years ago

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heyyy, hope you’re having a good night!! if you have the energy and feel okay answering, what’s up w taz graduation? i haven’t checked it out yet but i was thinking ab it. just asking bc you’re the first person i saw talk ab the show having serious issues, but also feel free to not answer this!! hope you have a good week!

i took a nice hot bath, had a strawberry kiwi capri-sun, and did a nice face mask and i’m feeling pretty good - so, y’know what anon? let’s talk about it.

for anyone who likes taz grad who sees this post: it’ll be tagged with “taz grad hate” (although i feel hate is definitely a very strong word - it’s for the simplicity of tagging it) - so please block the tag if you don’t want to see this post (especially because i put a readmore on a post before and it didn’t show up on mobile and instead gave the full post). mobile tumblr has a tag blocking system, so please feel free to use it! i don’t mind haha

anyway, so this is... probably going to be a lost post, and i wanna go ahead and preface it: this absolutely isn’t any hate on the mcelroys themselves. i love the brothers and their dad a lot, and while i doubt any of them would ever see this (or have it sent to them, or shown to them, because im pretty sure they try to distance themselves from this sort of thing), i just want to make it clear that criticizing a product is different than bashing a person. which brings me to the point of if i do end up sounding as if im bashing someone - please call me out on it! it’s not my intention to target anyone.

with that said, let’s talk about this campaign.

so my problems are as thus: the railroading, the shipping (a fandom problem, but it’s present in the podcast), the NPCs, and some misc problems others have addressed better than i have.

which. i know. that’s basically the entire podcast. (i promise i’ll bring up some positive points to balance it all out). keep in mind i’ve only personally listened to... what, six episodes? and it was enough for me to drop it. some people dropped it first ep, some dropped it ep four, and others are still forcing themselves to listen.

the railroading

there was a time i could handle travis and his railroading [making sure the story goes exactly the way he has planned], because it was the very beginning of the podcast and that’s what you can kind of expect from a plot-heavy podcast. hell, i wouldn’t mind it if the interactions and goofs weren’t a huge part of why i listen to TAZ in particular (which, by the way, is why amnesty still stuck out to me - even if there was a direction griffin wanted to push them towards, the interactions between the players (or players and npcs) made up for any railroading). it’s kind of hard to not railroad a little when it’s story-heavy and you’re trying to built up a world that you’ve put a lot of thought into. however, a huge part of d&d is the spontaneity.

it’s kind of why i think balance was so popular. while there was railroading towards the end, there was the presence of improv that made it all good. most mcelroy content is enjoyed because of the goofs. the magic brian moment is memorable. the jenkin’s fight still stands out because it was funny (albeit a result of some bad rolls). the boys teasing angus sticks out because the four would play well off of each other. even without that - griffin had talked about how he had to roll with things (the fact he had planned for a fight atop the train, but ditched the idea for what his family members came up with instead). even in amnesty, a couple moments that stick out to me still are ned with the jetpack taking out a pizza hut sign, and the scene with the water where jake was trapped inside. they aren’t as fun, but they still stand out as “things i didnt expect to really end the way they did.”

with grad, it’s just. one after another. the thundermen want to subpoena a xorn? cool, let’s run with that until actually the xorn gets fed rocks and goes home and who cares about the subpoena now. fitzroy wants to keep his cloak? lets talk about it for a while and you also get no rolls to even try to keep it. fitzroy goes to meet higglemas in his office? oh, why are you here fitzroy? im going to keep asking you until you answer fitzroy? you arent getting out of this scene until you answer me, fitzroy, so just tell me why you’re here already, alright, fitzroy?

and even later in a episode i read a transcript of: hey argo, remember how you have this whole secret motivation? fuck you, im gonna talk about it here in your dream and reveal it to listeners and remove any tension you had building up, and you dont get a choice to talk about it because this all-knowing villain knows all about it :)

and even NOW in the latest episode, there’s a comment that “we should cap argo’s skills here” instead of just... making the checks higher. rogues are good at certain things and usually arent the best in battles. better hope argo never makes it to level 11, because who knows how people are gonna handle the fact that he gets a skill that’ll make it so certain skills can’t have a roll below 10 (reliable talent).

(griffin, thankfully, calls travis out for that, but still - travis, why would you even imply that, considering you should be aware of how rogues work considering magnus multiclassed into rogue and you played one on tiny heist?)

and in the newest episode, their Big Bad chaos (which, god, i personally hate that name) straight-out says “dont do this” to the thundermen. travis tries to say, on twitter, “a character saying “dont do this” is different than me saying it” but i need to point out that it’s one thing if you’ve said “no” in character but worked with the PCs doing otherwise, but the railroading says differently.

the shipping

ill try to make this quick, because it’s nothing to do with the fandom (ship however you want, man) - but i really feel the need to draw attention to this.

fitzroy, as confirmed by griffin in a ttazz episode, is asexual. not aroace, but ace nonetheless. and i find it... troublesome that the idea of rainer and fitzroy having a relationship is still pushed nonetheless, despite the fact that fitzroy (to my knowledge) was never once shown to reciprocate any feelings. not to be that person, but i really hope that grad doesnt have any sort of romantic relationships in it (at least - not between NPCs and PCs unless they’re actually like... warranted?).

i dont know, man. one of my closest friends is ace, and i know she wants a relationship, but i think it would reassure her a lot to see an ace character who isn’t pushed into one in case she ever changes her mind. someone once mentioned that they hope fi/tz/ra/in doesnt happen because theres relationships that have that “oh, you can just date” and it goes upwards there to “oh, you can have sex just to please them <3″ (which, to be honest, is kind of a gross mindset - if someone isnt interested, they arent interested).

also, uh, the TTAZZ where griffin states this, there’s kind of the mention tht the whole sexuality question was posed in relation to the episode “creative thinking” (the dream one i mentioned earlier) - which. uh. i don’t know if anyone caught this, but... rainer straight-up wrote fitzroy a letter in the dream like “are you going to accept my proposal? a girl doesn’t like to be left waiting” which. leaves me with some gross feelings because uh.

if... if the whole thing about fitzroys sexual orientation was addressed here, then why would you push your ship anyway? feels kinda iffy, man.

to which i want to say: fitzroy can date. he’s allowed to date. griffins allowed to do whatever he wants with his character. but when a lot of the flirting is met with nothing, i’m not gonna see the chemistry there. just because travis ships it doesn’t mean it’s canon.

the npcs

ah yes. lets talk about the npcs.

there’s... a lot. a lot a lot. i think travis trimmed down how many were present in a scene, but uh. there’s still a lot. and... uh... i kinda wish there wasn’t?

look, i know im going back to balance/amnesty, but just. hang in there for a moment. chill with me. vibe.

balance didnt have too many NPCs present at all times in each mini-arc. gerblins had some big names like barry, klarg, gundren, killian, yeemick, and magic brian. rockport limited had angus, jess, graham the juicy wizard jenkins, and all of the tom bodetts mentioned.

amnestys first arc had mama, barclay, jake, dani, pigeon, kirby, minerva, and that was about it for like. big names? and not all of them were present in each scene.

in the first episode of grad alone: gary, hernandez, jimson, rolandus, zana, rhodes, buckminster eden, rainer, leon, tomas, hieronymous, higglemas, stuart, jackle, bartholomeus, mulligan, groundsy, germaine/victoria/rattles (the skeleton crew). and those are the ones i wrote down (minus groundsy, who i just. ignores. idk him).

like holy shit, my english prof got onto me for having too many characters in my first chapter and i didnt even have half the amount listed there!

it’s just a huge cast. does this take place in a school? yes! theres bound to be a lot of students present - but you don’t have to name every single one of them, at least not in the first episode!

the miscellaneous

i don’t know if travis ever actually addressed it, but wheelchair users have actually like... said that rainer’s introduction bothered them, because she was like “please ask me abt my wheelchair :)” when travis saying she was in an ornate chair would have sufficed.

uh. the colonization vibes people have discussed within the centaur arc. mentioned here, the replies here, and this post (and its replies) here as well.

the overall lack of d&d when the campaign was kind of advertised as a return to d&d if i remember correctly

also no one seems to be taking literally any criticism at all which like. ignoring the petty shit, sure, but people have stopped donating to taz and their listener-ship must have dropped some during this entire time - you’d think that maybe someone could say “we need to find out why people dont like the thing and fix the thing” consider this is. yknow. their livelihood.

anyway uhhh

tl;dr: travis railroads way too much (even now), the shipping in-game has become pushy and gross (especially bc its shoving a relationship onto an asexual character), theres too many npcs that dont stand out well enough, and no ones taking any criticism about the major issues with grad.

#taz grad hate #taz graduation hate #Anonymous #ok im gonna go to sleep now goodnight #maybe ill wake up to hate tbh that'll be wild

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 5 years ago

Text

The Savior, and The Broken

Actor!Bucky Barnes X Veteran!Steve Rogers Natasha Romanoff X Reader Except, when James was old enough to finally choose a career, he couldn’t possibly imagine becoming an actor.

a/n:there are mentions of PTSD, depression, heavy drinking, heavy swearing

If you’d asked little James Barnes what he wanted to be when he grew up, he’d throw his arms out and scream that he wanted to be an astronaut. To be close to the stars and learn all he could about the planets that surrounded us. If you were to ask when he was older, just now turning thirteen, he’d say a doctor. He wanted to save lives as much as he could, people were sure it was because of his best friend. The boy was sick more often than not, forced to stay indoors while other kids played and enjoyed their childhoods.

Except, when James was old enough to finally choose a career, he couldn’t possibly imagine becoming an actor.

His family had uprooted from their small home in Brooklyn, New York to Shelbyville, Indiana. James didn’t hate it too much, his only regret was having to leave behind his closest friend, unable to protect him anymore.

Everyone had noticed the way James grew into himself, sharp cheekbones, stone colored eyes that captivated everyone, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. It was how he’d risen to the top so quickly, taking role after role, receiving more awards than he could handle all at once.

The fame was more than he could ever expect, gorgeous men, and women hanging off his arm at awards shows. Movie premieres where fans were screaming his name.

Hell, he had become a household name within a few months of his first film release.

It wasn’t anything to ride home about, based off a book that was written in the early 1960’s, a story that captivated him from the very beginning. The press release was one of his favorite times, the way the interviewers seemed to stumble over their words.

He wasn’t ignorant to his looks, knew very well how often most people talked to him solely because he caught their eye from afar. And he’d been a little greedy himself, choosing the best looking person to go home with for the night.

At the end of the day, James seemed content and happy with how his life was going, family well taken care of, a house that was paid off before he could blink, and a career that was steadily rising.

There was just one thing missing, and he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what that could be.

OOO ~~~ James stood inside the kitchen, sipping a glass of whiskey his father had pushed into his hand the moment he arrived.

They were celebrating Becca graduating from college, she’d gone to school to become a nurse, and had graduated top of her class. James was very proud of her, hugging her tightly and giving her a few gifts he’d bought.

He knew better than to buy anything overly expensive, she’d refuse and give it back to him within mere seconds. So he went with simple things instead. Bath bombs to help relax her after the years of stress she’d dealt with, some scented candles, and a weighted blanket for nights she seemed too strung out to sleep.

“Thanks Bucky, you’re the best.” She wrapped her arms around him, laughing as he squeezed her tighter.

“Only the best for my sis, so you let your husband know who's clearly number one priority.” James snickered, catching Becca’s fists before she could sock him in the arm.

Winnie, and George Barnes were supportive of both their kids, wanting nothing but the best for them. James had been nervous to get into the acting business, watching the way it could tear even the strongest people apart. It wasn’t until he’d gotten a manager that things seemed to fall into place.

Sam Wilson was a godsend, and James had no problem admitting that Sam kept him sane most of the time. He’d set up interviews for him, or appearances on shows that had been emailing him almost hourly some days.

“You happy to be home?” Becca took the glass from his hand, finishing off the last of the whiskey.

“For now, I’m gonna be on Jimmy Fallon later this week, Sam’s been talking with his people to see which day works best.” James shrugged lightly, unsure what to do with the information he was telling her.

Becca had always been fascinated by James after he’d become famous, asking about all the different celebrity friends he had. And sure, he had plenty of celebrity friends, but he didn’t see them as more than normal people.

“I ran into an old friend by the way, Natasha Romanoff.” James felt his blood run cold.

The woman instilled fear in him from the very moment they had met, mainly the fact that she was a woman you did not fuck over. Not unless you were willing to risk losing a finger, or your life. She’d been closer to Steve when they first met, and he’d secretly hoped she kept an eye on him after he moved away.

“How’s she doing? I haven’t seen her since before we moved.” It wasn’t a lie, James’ life had become too busy for him to even breathe.

“She’s good, married actually.” That surprised James, Natasha seemed like the type of woman who preferred solace, so whoever she’d met had a lot of courage.

“That’s surprising.” Becca raised a brow at her older brother, a smirk pulling up her lips.

He knew better than to take the bait, if he said the wrong thing Becca would relay the message to Nat, and he’d wake up with something disgusting in his house. Speaking from experience of course.

“I met her, she seems perfect for Nat actually.” Oh, that was another shock to James’ mind.

“So not only is she married, but she married a woman, huh.” James rubbed his chin, beard coarse beneath his fingers.

“Her names Y/N, I think she keeps Nat grounded, which is a blessing in disguise for her.” Becca turned, leaving her brother stunned on the porch.

Maybe he could reach out and get into contact with her, see how life has changed since he moved to the middle of nowhere, and then became known wherever he went.

James stayed late into the night, congratulating Becca one last time before he headed back to his apartment. Alpine was sleeping peacefully on her little cat bed, stretching almost lazily as James set his keys into the bowl beside his door.

“Hey sweetheart, sorry I kept you waiting all night.” James ran his fingers over her fur, smiling as she butted her head into his hand.

James headed down to his bedroom, stripping down to his boxers and plopping down onto the bed with a long sigh. His phone dinged, vibrating soon after.

Becca had sent him Natasha’s insta, and twitter. Well, here’s to hoping she doesn’t rip him apart for disappearing all those years ago.

He opened instagram first, checking to see when her latest post was. Damn, she hadn’t put up a new photo in almost a month, maybe twitter would be more helpful.

The moment he clicked on her profile, he noticed she’d tweeted not even three minutes prior. He hit follow, and sent her a direct message letting her know who he was, as if his own twitter wasn’t as obvious.

She followed back, and replied to his message as he was playing with Alpine.

RedHeadAssassin:Holy shit, I thought Becca was joking when she said you were in town, how’s hollywood treating you?

James frowned, why would Becca lie about him being in town? He didn’t stay in New York very often anymore, it was just easier to stay in LA.

JamesBBarnes:Not too bad, I actually have a late night interview this week, so I have to be in town for the next few weeks. RedHeadAssassin:Ahh gotcha, I’m assuming Becca told you that I’m married lol JamesBBarnes:She did, honestly never thought you’d settle down, you always seemed happy by yourself. RedHeadAssassin:You’d be surprised the people you can meet in the army, maybe you can meet her if you’re not too busy James debated, he had almost every day, except for thursday, friday, and saturday completely open for whatever he wanted to do. JamesBBarnes:If you’re not busy tomorrow, I’m completely free. RedHeadAssassin:I have tomorrow off, so you’re in luck, meet me at Benny’s at noon, night Bucky. James sighed, very few people knew about that nickname, aside from his family, only about four people called him Bucky. Otherwise, he went by his actual name, even if it seemed so formal for his personal taste.

“Well, guess I’m gonna hang out with Nat tomorrow.” James patted the bed gently, watching as Alpine walked over to where he was, plopping onto her side.

Surely things hadn’t changed too much, he’d only been away for the last fifteen years. OOO ~~~ James stepped into the small diner, keeping the collar of his coat pulled up around his face to keep anyone from noticing who he was. Natasha was sitting in a back corner, a stunning woman sat beside her, arm looped loosely around her waist. That could only mean one thing, James was going to see an old friend, and her wife after years of not speaking.

“Hey, honestly thought you’d gotten lost.” Nat smirked up at James, watching as he took off his jacket and slid into the booth.

“You try being on almost every billboard outside and not get stopped a million and one times.” James wasn’t complaining though, far from it.

They ordered their food and drinks, talking about what had changed when James moved away. Natasha, and a few other friends had joined the army, though not everyone had come home safe and sound.

“Is..Is Steve still around?” James hadn’t said his name in years, pushing the memories far into the back of his mind.

“Oh, you don’t know then.” Natasha held her glass tighter, sighing softly.

James felt his throat close, what the hell does that mean?

“He joined the army after his dad kicked him out, and he was the definition of a perfect soldier, but before I continue, you need to promise me you won’t make a scene.” Natasha stared down the other man, waiting until he could verbally respond.

“I promise.” Though James’ voice was a whisper, it seemed good enough for Natasha.

Y/N comforted Natasha while she took a few moments to compose herself, eyes red with unshed tears.

“He was on a recon mission when his Humvee was hit, everyone else died, except for Steve.” Natasha turned away, burying her face into Y/N’s neck.

The other woman comforted her wife, whispering softly, too soft for James to be able to pick up whatever she was saying.

“He was captured, the only reason anyone was able to find him was a tracker they put into his gear. They had him for over two years, did absolutely unspeakable things, he hadn’t seen sunlight the entire time. The same man who went into that war, wasn’t the same man who came home.” Natasha took a slow breath, wiping her cheeks until the tears stopped.

Steve had gone through something so traumatic it killed the strongest of men, and James was none the wiser.

“Does anyone know where he is?” James felt hopeful, he absolutely needed to see Steve, needed to see that he was alive for himself.

“No, last I heard he was living on the street, he can’t hold down a job because of his PTSD, and the army hadn’t paid him for his service, and everything that happened.” Natasha was seething, more angry at the way her best friend had been treated, tossed aside once he was back home.

The walls seemed to be closing in on James, shock written clearly over his features, hands shaking atop of the table.

“Jesus, I need to find him Nat, please.” James was desperate, there was no other way to explain it.

“He’s not the same kid you remember Bucky, he’s someone else now, you have to remember that.” Natasha wasn’t going to let James off the hook.

He needed to see Steve for himself, to see the horrors he’d had to go through for years before rescue finally came. How would he react to seeing James? Would he be happy to see an old friend? Or would he tell James to leave him alone, that he didn’t need anyone else by his side?

Sam had called a little after three, letting James know his interview was set up for thursday, the episode would be airing on friday. He could work with that, it’d give him at least two days to try and find Steve.

Becca had told him it wouldn’t be that easy, not with how many people lived in the city of Brooklyn alone. It wasn’t going to deter James though, he needed to find the man in question, and get some damn answers.

OOO ~~~ “Jesus, they made a movie about his heroism, but didn’t bother to actually credit him, no wonder he went awol.” James frowned down at his phone.

They’d used Steve’s name, saying how he often put himself in the middle of danger to keep his troops safe. It sounded exactly like Steve, unable to back down from a fight, no matter how dangerous it was. But when it came to actually giving Steve the credit he rightfully deserved, they claimed he hadn’t wanted to step forwards.

“They wanted to make money off his name, and his image without paying him for it, people do it all the time Buck.” Sam sounded as if he was frowning, though James didn’t doubt that for a second.

“It’s what they do, need to make money off someone who can’t legally defend himself anymore. How much did it make in sales?” James was terrified to hear the number, to know how much his best friend had been fucked over.

Sam was quiet for a moment, and James wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad silence. It wasn’t until it stretched on for a good thirty seconds that he began to panic.

“They didn’t make anything off the movie, according to google it bombed when it hit box offices.” James sighed with relief, who cares if the studio lost out on money, they didn’t deserve it in the first place.

James glanced out the window, taking in the gray skies that seemed to stretch on forever. His driver was quiet, waiting patiently for the light to turn green. A man was walking down the street, it looked like he was asking people for any spare change.

A few people gave him a couple of dollars, others ignoring him completely. It was obvious to James that the man was homeless, from the dirt that seemed to cover every inch of him, to torn jacket he wore to protect from the cold breeze.

James hit the button to roll down his window, ready to hand over whatever bills were in his wallet, the other man could use it a hell of a lot more than he could anyway.

“Here.” James held out the money, ignoring how much was in his hand in favor of hoping he didn’t piss off the other man.

Three things happened in that moment, the gentleman took the money from James’ hand, glanced up, and locked eyes with him. In that very second James realized who exactly was standing on the sidewalk.

“Steve?” James’ voice was barely a whisper, eyes wide as he took in the other man, or at least what was left of him.

His eyes widened with fear, feet pushing him down the street until he was completely out of James’ sight. He turned in his seat, telling Paul to pull over so he could get out and try and find where Steve had run off to.

The streets were thriving with people heading on with their day, and it annoyed James, mostly because he was afraid Steve would be long gone. The only thing he could do was try and search for the jacket he’d been wearing, it wasn’t something he’d seen very often. He ran until his lungs were screaming for air, forcing James to stop and take a breath.

The alley beside him seemed deserted, bringing James’ spirits down immensely, until the sound of someone coughing caught his attention. He wasn’t alone, and there was a slim chance that it was even Steve inside the alley.

“Hello?” James stepped in slowly, being careful of his surroundings.

“Shit.” The coughing ceased, if only for a few moments before coming back louder than before.

James was closer than he expected to be, nervously stepping over to the man that seemed to be struggling with the coughing fit.

“You need to leave.” Steve’s shoulders shuddered as he struggled to take in air, body curled in on itself.

“Steve, what happened?” James kept his feet firmly planted on the ground, giving space to the man who needed it.

Steve shook his head, hands shaking as he reached up to pull off the beanie he’d been wearing. His hair looked unkempt, dirty from the lack of washing.

“I know you probably never want to see me again, but at least let me take you to my apartment so you can shower, and get a decent meal.” James was fighting a losing battle.

He knew well enough that Steve would deny him til the end of time, saying that he was perfectly fine enough to be on his own. James knew better though, Steve clearly needed someone to keep an eye on him.

“Fine.” Goddamnit, he knew Steve was going to-. “Wait, you’re actually going to come with me?” James felt his head spin, that was a shock he wasn’t expecting to deal with.

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind.” Steve pushed himself off the ground, following James to the car that was still waiting for him.

Paul drove them back to James’ apartment, keeping any words or thoughts to himself as he weaved throughout the thick traffic. Any of James’ clothes would surely fit Steve, especially since it seemed that he’d lost a lot of weight over the years.

He put in a large order of food to be delivered, taking Steve inside so no one else could bother them.

“The bathrooms down on the right, I’ll leave some clothes out for you to change into, food should be here in about an hour.” James nodded, watching as Steve made his way down to the bathroom.

The apartment was silent, save for the sound of the shower running, as James ran around and began to clean up. He set the clothes on top of the sink, taking Steve’s dirty clothes to be washed. He knew there was no way he’d be able to convince him to stay, so he could at least send him out in something that was clean and warm.

Steve didn’t emerge from the bathroom for nearly forty five minutes, a cloud of steam following as he opened the door. James had been right, the clothes fit Steve almost perfectly, even a little baggy as he watched the other man tie the waist tighter to prevent his pants from falling.

How could this happen to someone so strong? Willing to risk their life for the people around them just to protect them. James could see the shadows beneath his eyes, the way his cheeks looked almost hollow.

Before James could make any comment, the food had arrived. He quickly signed and took the bags from the kids hand, making sure to tip him generously. He was feeding someone that needed food more than usual, so he may have gone overboard.

Steve piled food onto his plate, making sure to eat slowly so he didn’t make himself sick and lose the urge to eat altogether. James kept his eyes down on his plate as he ate, making sure Steve didn’t feel pressured to talk about anything that was going on.

“I got an honorable discharge after I was found, they tried to act like that was good enough for what happened to me.” Steve angrily stabbed a piece of broccoli, shoving it into his mouth.

“Jesus, you were basically on your own, and that’s the best they could do?” James could see a faint scar hidden underneath the t-shirt he had on.

He wanted to show the world how much Steve had gone through, that he deserved better than what he was dealt, but he knew Steve would only hate him for it. He’d do anything he could to keep Steve safe, even if it meant letting him go again.

“I want you to stay here, please.” James didn’t lift his eyes from his plate, knowing Steve would deny him.

“Why?” Steve set down his fork, staring down the man across from him.

He was hoping Steve hadn’t asked him that question just yet, he hadn’t formally come up with a game plan.

“Steve, it’s getting colder outside, you look like you’re one cold away from death.” James frowned, setting down his own fork.

Steve’s gaze darkened, fury plain as day on his face. James needed to stop talking before he really pissed him off.

“I’ve done just fine on my own for the last five years, I don’t need your pity.” Despite his anger towards James, Steve polished off his plate of food, taking the takeout container and eating what was left in there as well.

James kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d do more damage by saying what was on his mind than not. What would he do when he had to work though? Sam would be apprehensive to leave Steve completely alone, it made sense. James didn’t trust many people in his apartment alone, let alone someone he hadn’t seen for years.

Maybe he could talk with Natasha, see if she could find somewhere for him to stay until James could get back.

James:Hey, I ran into Steve, is there any way you could find somewhere for him to stay? I’m leaving for London next week, and I really don’t want him to be on the street. Nat:Buck, you can’t seriously be asking me that right now, I have enough to worry about as it is, and the last time I saw Steve he told me to rot in hell.

James:Please Nat, you know I wouldn’t ask for anything else, I just need to know that he’s safe. Nat:I’m sorry, I can’t.

James gave up after Natasha ignored the next three texts he sent, it was a lost cause, and now there was nothing he could do except try to convince Steve to stay.

The man had already dealt with enough, and James wasn’t helping comfort him in the moment.

OOO ~~~ James sat patiently, waiting for his cue to head out onto the stage. Steve was still inside James’ apartment, promising he wouldn’t leave until James had to leave for London. That of course didn’t make the other man feel any better, made him feel worse in fact.

“You all know our next guest, from starring in We Have Always Lived in the Castle, to starring in his latest film Destroyer, please welcome James Barnes!” Jimmy’s voice echoed over the stage, the crowd cheering excitedly.

James made his way out, waving to the crowd before heading over to where Jimmy stood, along with the first guest that had gone on before him. He couldn’t remember her name off the top of his head, though that was due to the underlying fear that Steve had left while he was gone.

“Thank you for coming on the show.” Jimmy sat down, leaning against his desk to be closer to where James had sat down.

“Thank you for having me, it’s been a little while since I’ve gotten to be on the show.” James smirked lacing his fingers together to keep them from shaking.

The interview went by smoothly, leaving James a little more relaxed than he had been before he went out to the show. The other guest, whose name he’d finally remembered was Sharon, made small talk as he waited for Sam to show up.

“I thought you played a very convincing asshole, and yet you’re such a nice person in real life.” Sharon blushed softly, turning away to hide behind her hair.

“Thanks, I got the script and thought it sounded really interesting, I couldn’t help but take it.” James slid his hands into his pockets, fighting the urge to call and see if Steve was home.

Sam showed up soon after, letting James know that the car was there to take him home. He bid Sharon a good night, and headed on his way out. There were paparazzi outside, something James had come to expect everywhere he went.

The fear was building in his chest, the closer they got to his apartment, the more dread began to cloud his mind. It was obvious that Steve had left, just because he’d promised James he’d stay, didn’t mean he was being forced to.

Sam went inside first, checking to see if anything was missing when they arrived. Everything was right where it was supposed to be, except for Steve. A note sat on the kitchen table, letting James know that while Steve knew they were once friends, he couldn’t stand by and become a leech on his friend.

Bucky, I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you came home. I just can’t bear the thought of taking advantage of you, please don’t come looking for me. Steve James felt his throat tighten, tears slipping down his cheeks slowly as he read the short note over, and over again. This wasn’t his real life, he was still dreaming and this was all just a nightmare. Sam had cleared the area, letting James know that Steve was truly gone.

“You know you need to let him live his life, right?” Sam stepped over, placing a gentle hand onto James’ shoulder.

“I haven’t seen the man since I was basically a kid, Sam, I can’t lose him again.” James sighed softly, running a hand through his hair.

“I know that, but you have to understand things from his perspective, Steve’s known this life for a lot longer than you may realize. Leave him alone.” Sam didn’t wait for James to answer, turning away and heading to the kitchen.

James couldn’t do that though, he was determined to figure out where he’d gone wrong in the past, to find out what had happened to someone he’d called a best friend for so long.

“I swear to god, if you go out there when he asked to be left alone, I’ll put on twitter that you sleep with a Cap bear.” James whipped around, staring the other man down.

“Sam, you need to understand where I’m coming from.” James was desperate at this rate.

“Bucky, the man was in the military, there’s underlying issues beyond something that even you could begin to help him deal with, leave it alone.” Sam sighed, picking up his phone to check through emails.

Could he handle letting go of something from his past? 6 Months Later James stared down at his hands, nervously shaking as he took slow, deliberate breaths to prevent himself from truly freaking out. All he had to do was head out onto the stage, talk about the nominees for a minute, and announce who’d won. So, why the fuck was James freaking out as if he was asked to murder the president?

Because Natasha had gotten in contact with him mere hours before the show, letting him know that Steve was in the hospital. He’d nearly gotten himself killed, starting a fight when he was too sick, and too weak to truly defend himself. Steve was back in New York, too far for James to be able to do anything .

The awards show went by smoothly, James, fortunate for his own sake, managed to keep his calm while on stage. If he was secretly booking a flight to New York the moment he was able to leave, no one else needed to know that. No one needed to know that James was planning on doing something reckless.

Sam wasn’t even aware of what he’d had planned, oblivious to the fact that his friend was going to fly out within an hour after the show ended. James turned down every offer to go to the after parties, claiming he’d had important work to attend to, that couldn’t wait.

It wasn’t an entire lie though.

The flight seemed to drag on for hours, James’ nerves on edge as they slowly began to ascend from the air. What could he possibly say to him? To truly explain how he was back in New York so soon? He’d hoped that Natasha would meet him at the hospital, take him to where Steve was being held so he didn’t have to face him alone.

With a begrudging sigh, James took his suitcase and headed down to the hospital where Steve was being held. He could faintly see Natasha and Y/N when the cab finally pulled up, Nat’s arms wrapped tight around her wife’s waist.

“I’m sorry, traffic was a nightmare, and the flight almost got delayed.” James set down his suitcase, unbuttoning his jacket with a soft sigh.

“You were in LA, I can’t exactly get pissed off at you for that.” Nat turned, pulling Y/N with her gently as she headed back inside.

James grabbed his things, following close behind. The nurse behind the station seemed calm, and yet unnerved at the same time. How often did she see people like Steve be brought in?

“This is a free clinic, so there hasn’t been much they’re able to do for him, he’s being kept in one of the actual rooms so that he doesn’t hurt anyone else.” James was baffled, Steve never tried to fight anyone unless he saw them as a bully.

Natasha stepped into the room first, gently holding Y/N’s arms before leading her inside as well. The sight that greeted them was one that James would remember for the rest of his life.

Steve was bloody, and bruised, he looked thinner than the last time James had seen him as well, the skin that wasn’t beaten bloody was ghostly pale. Had he gotten into drugs? Gone off the deep end and unable to pull himself back from the edge?

“They said someone heard him in an alley, he was calling out your name.” That struck James, Steve had been calling out for him? And when he needed him most he couldn’t be there?

“Is he going to be alright?” James dropped his things by the door, stepping over to Steve’s bedside.

Nat didn’t say anything, watching as James took Steve’s hand gently between both of his own. It was clear how weak Steve had become. The tube shoved down his throat nearly made James gag, horrified of what had happened.

“He needed all of us to be there for him, and no one bothered to listen for his cries for help.” Nat wiped her tears, watching the only man she’d ever truly called a best friend wither away in a hospital bed.

“If I had known, I’d have done everything I could to help him, but when we moved he and I lost contact. I couldn’t even remember his fucking address.” James laughed bitterly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Steve had always been stubborn, refusing to ask for help even when he so desperately needed it, and right now, staring down at the blonde, James felt no different.

“What have the doctors said?” James glanced over at Nat, still holding tightly to Steve’s limp hand.

“They don’t think he’ll pull through, his body has been put through too much stress, and he couldn’t handle it any longer.” Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“I’m transferring him to a hospital near my house, pay for the best doctors to take care of him.” James wasn’t going to back down without a fight, he needed to make right for his wrongs.

OOO ~~~ James watched as Steve slowly walked down the aisle, hands gripping onto the metal bars with all the strength he could manage. He hadn’t shaved since he’d woken up, the beard covering his face was a little shocking to James at first, until he grew to like it. Things between them had become...complicated over time. James wasn’t sure he could help Steve if he was insistent on being alone. Had he convinced the blonde to stay until he could survive on his own? Perhaps.

“You’ve made amazing progress so far Mr. Rogers.” The physical therapist that was helping him seemed almost too young. Were they sure he was qualified to do this job?

Steve barely managed a smile, hands tightening on the poles as he reached the very end, plopping back down into the chair they’d placed for him there. James knew not to walk over, to comfort his friend that was doing his best to get back on his own feet. Steve didn’t try and hide his disdain for James, never using the nickname he’d given him when they were kids.

“Since next week is Christmas, we’re going to have to reschedule and wait until the eighth of January.” Darcy, the receptionist who always greeted Steve kindly, handed him the card that held the new date.

God, how had James forgotten that Christmas was in a week? Aside from pushing away offers for roles while he helped Steve, he just didn’t pay attention to the days. He’d already sent his family their gifts, along with his manager, and assistant. God bless that woman, if it wasn’t for her, he was sure his head wouldn’t be screwed on right.

That left one final person for James to buy for, and he wasn’t entirely sure Steve would be welcoming of a gift at all. The blonde had nearly torn James apart the moment they’d arrived in his home. He knew deep down that he deserved the hate, to listen to the spiteful words that Steve spewed every second. James wouldn’t retaliate though, even when Sam had reemed into him as well.

“So, what did you want to do for Christmas?” James was hopeful that Steve would be willing to spend it with his family, but that didn’t seem likely at all.

Steve grunted under his breath, rubbing at his legs that seemed more bruised than usual. What was he getting himself into when James wasn’t around?

“I’d personally like to be left alone, but according to my doctor and therapist I’m not allowed to have that, so I guess whatever the hell you want to do.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, clearly angry with the situation at hand.

James opened his mouth, thinking of something to say back without upsetting the other man, unfortunately, nothing came to mind. It was a lose, lose situation. Steve was going to hate him either way, no matter what he did. Hell, he refused to call James by his nickname since they’d run into one another. Then again, Natasha had been acting almost the same way.

“I was going to visit my family, y’know my parents, sisters and their kids. We can stay home if you want.” James was approaching apprehensively.

Steve snorted, the sound bitter and angry coming from the other man.

“Real good job James, taking a war vet to a house that’s going to be full of screaming kids, real fucking smart.” Steve stood up roughly, gripping the back of the couch hard enough to white out his knuckles.

James knew not to run over and help, Steve would only end up screaming at him to be left alone. He’d offered to help one time, and Steve had hit him hard enough to leave a bruise that stayed for nearly two weeks. Even with malnutrition, and a weak frame, Steve could still throw a severe punch.

James watched him head down to the bedroom, door slamming behind him as the air seemed to thicken with tension. He’d call Sam, ask him what he should do, he always had all the answers.

~~~ “I’m sorry, you’re doing what?” Sam’s voice echoed loudly through the receiver.

“Sam, his doctor said he can’t be left alone in the apartment, and I already promised my parents I’d come home for Christmas, if I tell them why I’m canceling they’ll fly themselves out here just to see him. I can’t do that to him Sam.” James sighed, running a hand through his hair.

James didn’t want to cancel on his family, but he also didn’t want to piss Steve off anymore than he’d already had. Then again, Natasha would personally see to his death if he tried to leave Steve alone for almost two weeks.

“Buck, the man’s been through enough shit to kill anyone three times over, don’t force him to go out.” James knew that Sam was right, forcing him to socialize would only cause more harm than good.

Which is exactly what James did. He called his parents to let them know he wouldn’t be coming, that something important had come up and he’d been unable to discuss for the moment. Steve didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day, it was noon on Christmas day before he saw the blonde, bags beneath his eyes as he clutched a cup of coffee as if it were his lifeline.

James didn’t bother to say anything, choosing instead to give Steve the much needed space he deserved. He’d practically uprooted the other man, forcing him into a place he’d never been in before just so James’ mind would be clear. It was selfish, and despicable.

“When’s my next therapy appointment?” Steve wasn’t looking at James, instead his gaze was focused solely on the fireplace.

“It’s this Friday, I can have them move if you want.” James never accompanied him to the appointments, knowing fair well it would drive Steve farther away.

“Please.” Steve muttered, finishing off the coffee that was left in his mug.

James didn’t say anything, reaching for his phone to email the therapist, he knew she wouldn’t get back to him right away, but they had a few days before his appointment anyway. He could only hope that Pepper wouldn’t get upset he couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

He’d met Pepper through Tony, who’d originally been his manager before he met Sam. James recommended anyone to see Pepper as a therapist, the woman was a goddamn miracle worker. Which was why he sent Steve there as well, he needed to know that the other man would be alright. James had seen the damage that was already done, he refused to be another reason for his best friends demise.

Wait, they weren’t best friends, they were barely even associates at this rate. Steve only lived in James’ house because he had nowhere else to go. He was doing him a favor, giving him a reason to get better.

“I’m gonna go lay down for a little while.” Steve pushed himself up slowly, grabbing onto the cane that rested against the arm of the couch.

James knew better than to rush over to help Steve when he’d refused his help in the past. He hated being doted on, claiming it made others see him as weak. He waited until the other man made it to his room before getting off the couch. Maybe he could go down to the grocery and get some things while Steve took a nap, it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

James wrote a note letting Steve know where he was in case the other man happened to wake up. He usually didn’t, especially if he’d planned on napping during the daytime.

With a soft sigh, James pulled on his shoes and coat, heading down to the store closest to his apartment. The store wasn’t normally open on Christmas, but it was under new management, and according to other shoppers they didn’t celebrate the holiday. Thankfully neither did anyone that was working on that day either. James would’ve hated to make anyone wait on him because he needed to help out a friend.

He went up and down each aisle, debating between the cheetos or bag of doritos for an unhealthy snack. A pack of oreos went into the cart next, followed by some more coffee since he was beginning to run low. Heading up to the front to pay, James placed his items onto the belt, paying when the cashier told him the total.

He was more than ready to get back to the apartment and pig out for a little while, maybe Steve would join him for a few minutes, munch on the chips before heading off once more.

“James?” A deep voice caught his attention, had his little disguise not hidden him well enough? James turned to face the voice, ready to pose for a selfie before his heart caught in his throat. Brock Rumlow was standing on the street beside him, clothes perfectly pressed, hair styled to look effortlessly messy, the stubble on his cheeks looked as if he hadn’t shaved in almost a week. What the hell was he doing in New York?

“Hey, long time no see.” James tried to keep his voice even, he couldn’t let Brock know how he felt anymore.

“Yeah, I thought you were visiting your parents? It is Christmas after all.” The smirk that spread over his lips unnerved James, how the hell did he remember that?

“I was going to, but some things came up so I had to cancel my trip.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.

Brock nodded slowly, as if he was taking in James’ words slowly, soaking them in for future use.

“Well that’s too bad, you should’ve let me know, could’ve hung out like old times.” Brock was still smirking, god why had James found that attractive?

“I wouldn’t have had the time, sorry. I need to get back anyway.” He needed an out, a way to get away without letting Brock know why he was leaving so suddenly.

“If you’re not too busy tomorrow, give me a call.” Brock wrapped an arm around James’ waist, pressing their lips flush together for a moment.

James reached his hands up, pressing his palms against Brock’s chest to push him away. And he did exactly that.

“Brock, we’re not together anymore, and I don’t want to see you anymore, leave me alone.” James hoisted the bags higher up on his arms, turning away and practically sprinting back to his apartment.

The streets has been surprisingly empty, so while it was easy for him to get back home without anyone catching him, it made him feel uneasy. What if someone had seen Brock kiss him? It’d be all over the internet before he could possibly stop it.

Steve was still asleep, and James thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t need to explain to the other man why he was panting so harshly, and why he looked like a crazed animal. Instead of worrying about his impending doom anymore, James put the groceries away. It could help keep his mind at ease, no one witnessed the one sided kiss, things would be fine.

Until they weren’t.

James woke up to his phone ringing the next morning. Sam was calling, which was bad in and of itself.

“Hello?” James kept his voice quiet, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was barely passed six in the morning, which meant Steve was still in bed.

“Have you been online at all?” Sam didn’t give his brain even a second to process.

“Because there’s a picture of you and Rumlow macking it on a street corner, what the fuck Bucky!” James pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly.

He had been wrong, and someone managed to get a picture of Brock kissing him.

“He saw me walking back from the store and kissed me, I swear I didn’t kiss him back Sam, you know how much I despise the man.” James didn’t bother to hide his disdain for the other man whenever he’d been interviewed, and it affected him negatively.

He was unable to land a role for nearly six months before things suddenly changed and Brock was seen as the bad guy. It wasn’t a lie, Brock was possessive, and it lead to their breakup after only a few months.

James turned the phone on speaker, opening up Twitter to see what was being said about him. And right front and center was a picture of him and Brock, and not a low quality camera picture either, this was paparazzi. Had he planned this to try and ruin James’ career? To make people think he was actually lying about what happened?

“I need to say something about this, he’s spreading lies!” James was furious, for not only himself, but for Sam. He was dumping this onto the other man’s plate when he should’ve been worrying about it himself.

“Trust me, I know you wouldn’t willingly kiss him Buck, but we can’t go into this headfirst.” Sam sighed softly.

James knew what he was about to do was highly risky, but he needed to set the record straight before anymore lies could be spread on his behalf.

He hung up on Sam, opening up instagram and starting a live video. No one was going to hear a single word from anyone, but him.

“Hey everyone, I know it’s pretty early to be doing one of these.” James chuckled softly, running a hand over his face.

He wasn’t even wearing a shirt, having forgone wearing one when he’d gone to bed the night before. It wasn’t his fault that the apartment was too warm to wear properly clothing all the time, he was doing it for Steve.

“So unless you live under a rock, you saw a picture of Brock Rumlow and I kissing, I just want to set the record straight and let everyone know that the kiss was completely one sided. I had gone out to the grocery store to get a few things and on my way home Brock stopped me, he asked some questions that I won’t be discussing right now, and grabbed my waist and kissed me.” James sighed, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

“After he kissed me I pushed him away, told him I didn’t want to see him anymore and left immediately.” James wasn’t stupid, he knew that Brock would put out his own video of what happened, telling everyone that James had tried to kiss him first.

He opened his mouth to go more in depth, to tell his fans to ignore what they read online, that whatever Brock said was going to be a lie. Until the door to his room opened, revealing a sleepy looking Steve. He’d been hoping that Steve would sleep through the entire Instagram live. Guess that wasn’t going to happen.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked exhausted, eyes rimmed red from what was either lack of sleep, or he’d been crying.

“Oh, I’m just making a video talking about some stuff, did I wake you?” James knew he was walking on thin ice, that Steve could snap at any moment.

“No, I woke up a little over an hour ago.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, the hoodie James had bought him seemed to stretch over his shoulders.

Was James staring? Or was he trying to figure out what was different about Steve?

“Oh, I can make coffee if you’d like?” James knew the viewers were currently flooding in, comments streaming faster than he could read them. “No, that’s alright.” Steve’s shoulders were raised ever so slightly, turning away and leaving the room without another word.

Shit, he’d been avoiding letting the world know exactly why he was taking a step back from the spotlight. Now everyone knew the truth, and James was going to have to explain himself before shit got out of hand.

“Sorry about that guys, a good friend of mine has been staying at my house, so I’ve been a little more focused on that for now.” His laugh sounded weak, even to his own ears. “What I wanted to say though, was don’t listen to anything you hear, or read any of the lies they’re gonna put online, me and Brock are done, and I will never take him back.” James sighed, running a hand over his face and saying his goodbyes to the live before clicking end. Would he risk his hide and leave it on his story for everyone else to see? Or would James end up deleting it like the chicken he was? He ended up leaving it up, consequences be damned.

His heart was jack hammering in his chest, nerves suddenly on edge as his phone flooded with text messages, Sam’s face popping back up once again. He sighed, answering.

“Sam I’m-” “You’re lucky I’m not in New York or else I’d wring your neck right now.” Sam sounded angrier than he’d ever heard before.

“Sam, I thought he was still asleep, and I wasn’t going to let Brock get the upper hand!” James was furious, how could he blame him for what happened?

Sam sighed, the sound exasperated as James struggled to reel in his emotions. Things were beginning to fall apart.

“He’s starting to look healthier at least.” Sam didn’t sound as upset, though there was still a lingering anger in his words.

James knew that Steve had begun to eat more, less afraid that he was going to put James out for eating more than a banana in the morning. That of course didn’t mean the other man was willing to forgive everything, he was still afraid he’d be removed from the house.

“He’s been dealing with nightmares, but Pepper told me not to try and wake him when it happens.” James sighed, this was becoming harder for him to truly deal with.

“She’s right, he could become violent and end up hurting you, or himself.” Sam had a point, and he couldn’t risk pushing Steve away anymore.

James had made accommodations for Steve to be completely comfortable, afraid that if he did something wrong he’d set the other man off.

“I gotta go, he’s probably been sulking in the living room and I need to get some food into him.” Sam bid him farewell, telling him to be careful.

James wasn’t ignorant, he knew that Steve had gone through some horrific things in the past, but it didn’t change who he was deep down.

Without anything to keep him distracted any longer, James pushed himself up and left his bedroom, feet carrying him down to the kitchen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t expecting to see Steve in the kitchen, hoodie discarded on a chair. That wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks. No. It was the scars that littered his body, some light, barely visible in the morning sun, others deep and angry, nearly red.

How had he managed to keep this hidden? Were they from his life living on the streets? Or something else entirely.

“My unit was captured during my third deployment.” Steve’s voice startled him, though James would deny that for the rest of his days.

“What happened?” James whispered the words, afraid if he spoke any louder he’d scare the other man off for good.

Steve smiled sadly, eyes turning glassy as he turned to face James. It was the first time he’d realized that he’d finally seen Steve completely shirtless. If he thought the scars on Steve’s back were horrific, the ones on his front were worse.

“We were transporting someone, can’t really remember his name anymore but he was someone famous, well the humvee in front of us hit an IED, ended up crashing into a ditch on the side of the road. We were told to protect the guy no matter what, so that’s exactly what I did.” Steve chuckled, the sound breathless and choked.

“Got surrounded by the enemy, tortured me for any kind of information. Whenever they got what they needed, they’d kill us. Unfortunately I couldn’t give them any information because I didn’t have any.” Steve’s gaze turned cold and calculating, it sent shivers down James’ spine.

“So I did what I was trained to do, I killed the guard that was keeping me and my mission captive, snuck out in the middle of the night with open wounds, and no shoes. We ended up walking for nearly six miles before someone found us, apparently they’d put out a search for him. I suffered for over two fucking years, and yet he was the only one they were worried about.” Steve’s shoulders were shaking with anger.

James’ hands were shaking, heart racing as he stared over at Steve, trying to soak in the information Steve had thrown at him. He was left for dead, and no one gave a fuck about the man! As if his life was worthless!

“Wait, you said you’d been in captivity for two years, correct?” That seemed to be too much of a coincidence, especially considering James had just finished working with Tony before he went missing.

“Yeah, at least that’s what they said when I was in the hospital.” Steve shrugged, eyes glancing down to the mug he’d set onto the counter.

James couldn’t ever tell Steve that Tony was the man he’d been escorting, especially not when Tony was over there to try and help bring them home for the holidays. He’d end up hating James more than he already did.

“It was Tony, Peppers wife, that you were escorting over there.” James looked up slowly, waiting for the screaming that Steve was bound to do.

He stood stock still, staring the other man down as he soaked in his words, jaw clenching as he glared at James.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you where you stand.” Steve turned and left the kitchen, the sight of his scarred skin still haunting James’ mind.

He knew that information wasn’t something easily shared, but what if Steve had run into Tony during one of his appointments? How would’ve he reacted to seeing the other man? Would he have tried to kill him?

So James did what he felt best. He left.

Of course he left a note letting Steve know that he wasn’t going to be at the apartment for a few days, and that he was more than welcome to stay while he was gone. Was it a stupid move on his part? Absolutely, but he couldn’t sit by and wait for the day Steve refused to stay and left permanently.

Besides, he was only leaving for a few days at most, he’d be back before Steve could truly notice.

~~~ OOO 2 Weeks Later James stared down at his phone. He’d turned it off the moment he arrived at the remote apartment, the one not even Sam knew about. He had gotten it right after his last movie, wanting to get away from the press. He turned it on with a quiet sigh, waiting for the bombardment of texts, emails, and voicemails he’d surely have.

Surely enough his voice buzzed for nearly two minutes straight before quieting back down. He leaned down, picking up the sleek device to see who’d gotten in contact. There were at least two hundred texts from Sam alone, nearly that many from Natasha, and about thirty from an unknown number. Maybe it was Nat’s wife, Y/N, trying to figure out where he’d gone to.

This wasn’t going to be easy to handle, especially when he was about to get torn in two, in more ways than one.

Sam:Dude, what the fuck is going on? Why did Steve just call and say you left????? Sam:I swear to god Barnes, I’ll track your ass down and drag you back by the scruff of your neck. Sam:You better fucking answer me! The rest were Sam threatening him, telling him that he’d gotten in contact with Natasha, and even called his parents to see where he was. Nat:James Buchanan Barnes you ungrateful bastard! Nat:You’re lucky I don’t know where you are right now, or else I’d wring your fucking neck Nat:Do you even care about everyone around you? Nat:Or this is some sick joke that helps you sleep at night? Nat:God, no wonder Steve didn’t get into contact back when we were kids. James felt that in his soul, was he truly the reason Steve hadn’t bothered to write?

Steve:Where the hell did you go??? Sam said he can’t get a hold of you either. Steve:James, c’mon everyone’s getting worried. Steve:Will you please answer your phone???? Steve:Look, I’m sorry for what I said, I was just angry and upset. Steve:Bucky, please.

That stopped James in his tracks. Steve hadn’t called James, Bucky, since they were young, and stupid kids. There was no possible way he wanted James around, not when he was the reason for causing all of the issues between them.

He knew he couldn’t hide any longer though, packing away the things he’d taken out of the bag and heading down to his car. The streets were oddly quiet, as if no one had bothered to leave their homes for the day. It wouldn’t be like this when he got back home though.

And so he did what any sane person in his situation would do. Show up at his home unannounced.

“Hello?” James set his bag down, toeing off his shoes before stepping further inside.

Nothing was out of place, and the entryway smelled oddly of lemon cleaner, was this what Steve had been doing for two weeks?

“Bout time you got back.” Fuck, that was definitely Sam.

James knew better than to apologize, to make up the excuse of why he fled so suddenly without another word.

“I told Steve that Tony was the reason he was captured, and tortured for nearly two years, I didn’t want to push him any farther than I already had.” James stood his ground, shoulders pushed back as he stared at the other man.

Sam stared back at James, slack jawed as he took in what James had just said. This wasn’t something petty he’d run off about, this was a matter of Steve’s life in his hands.

“Where is he now? I didn’t expect him to be here when I got home.” James stared down the other man, waiting for him to tell him what he so desperately needed.

Sam stared back, both men waiting for the other to break and give the news.

“He’s out getting groceries with Nat right now, said you guys were running low and he didn’t like leaving the house too empty.” That...was not the answer that James had been expecting to hear.

“Wait, you’re telling me he didn’t pack up and leave?” James had half expected Steve to bolt the moment he felt freedom.

“No, but he asked Nat, and I to drive him to his appointments because his usual person suddenly disappeared.” James winced, it was the truth and he needed to understand that.

The front door swung open, the sound of Natasha, and Steve’s laughter filling the house, the sound of bags crinkling followed quickly.

“It’s not my fault you’re so damn tall, just watch your head next time.” Nat stepped into the kitchen first, smile slipping off her face faster than James could blink.

“You had ample opportunity to warn me that the ceiling was low, so it’s technically...your fault.” Steve gripped the bags in his hands tighter, jaw clenched as he stared James down.

The air began to thicken with tension, James Barnes, academy award winner, famous movie star, Steve Rogers, war veteran, hero.

“I blamed myself for what happened with Tony, it’s why I left Steve.” James knew better than to lie, to keep secrets from someone he’d considered a best friend all those years ago.

“That doesn’t make any sense, you had no idea I was the one escorting him.” This was about to get messy.

“Yes, yes I did Steve. Tony told me about the man who’d basically saved his life, and when I heard that it was you, I did everything I could to find you. Imagine my surprise when I find out from your dad that he disowned you back before you went into the army. Your mom misses the hell out of you by the way, I didn’t want to overwhelm you during your recovery but she wants to see you.” James took a deep breath, waiting for the screaming to begin.

“I shouldn’t of had to find out that you were gay because of your dad, but even then it doesn’t matter to me. What he did was beyond horrible, hell I nearly drove to Tony’s house to kill him when you said you’d been tortured. God, Steve you deserved better than what they gave you. What goods a medal when you’re struggling with severe PTSD?” James laughed bitterly, wiping at the tears that were streaking down his cheeks.

No one said a word, watching as James stalked around the island in the kitchen and headed down to his room, leaving everyone behind.

There wasn’t a reason for James’ outburst, the way he’d snapped on everyone was childish and reckless. James had lived a posh life, never having to worry about anything in his life, meanwhile Steve was tortured daily for nearly a year. The man struggled to do basic activities without something triggering his PTSD. God, James was such a child.

“Bucky?” A knock sounded at the door, Steve’s voice muffled by the thick wood.

James turned around, unlocking the door. Steve stepped inside slowly, hands twisting together as he glanced up at James.

“I didn’t want you to leave that day, but I knew that we needed some space, it’s why I went down to my room. And maybe I do struggle to deal with my PTSD everyday, but I started seeing the therapist you told me about because I figured she could help.” Steve stepped closer, leaving only a few feet between them.

“Even though I was beyond angry when you found me Buck, my lifes been a lot better since. I’ve gained weight, I have a warm place to sleep. Hell, I can go to the grocery store without worrying if I’ll be able to afford food.” James felt confused, why was Steve thanking him?

“I don’t understand.” James mumbled, arms loosely hanging by his side.

“If it weren’t for you finding me, I’d be dead by now.” Steve said it, with so much nonchalance that it truly bothered James.

Steve had to possibly walk with a cane for the rest of his life, but that was better than dying a bitter death during the winter. Maybe Steve was doing better by being here.

“I thought that staying angry was what seemed best, but it’s only made things worse between us, and I’m sorry.” James shook his head, he should be the one apologizing.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Steve, I’m the one who basically forced you into my home.” Steve laughed, head thrown back as the sound echoed inside the room.

James was a little confused, what was so funny about what he said?

“Bucky, I could’ve left any time I wanted, I chose to stay because I needed to.” Oh, that wasn’t what he was expecting.

Things would eventually get better between them, only time would tell.

~~~ OOO 2 Years Later James waited patiently for the nominees names to be mentioned, hand clasped tightly around Steve’s. He looked downright stunning in his tux, the deep maroon complimented his eyes perfectly. James, or Bucky as almost everyone around him had begun calling him, wore a simple black tux, though his pocket square matched Steve’s tux.

“And the winner for best actor goes to, James Barnes!” Bucky stood, smiling happily as he leaned down to press a kiss to Steve’s lips.

He wasn’t entirely sure when their relationship had changed from enemies, to friends, and finally to lovers. Bucky wasn’t about to complain about that, of course not.

He stepped onto the stage, taking the award from Sharon who was clapping along with everyone else, though he watched her gaze travel along his body.

“Thank you everyone, I do want to say what an honor it is to win this award. I chose the role not just because it felt so powerful, but also because of someone else. As most of you may know, my husband was in the army for nearly ten years, and during his last tour he was captured by the enemy. Instead of letting it consume him, Steve came out someone stronger, a better man than I could ever call myself.” Bucky laughed softly, wiping at the tears that had begun to slide down his cheeks.

“There are men and women everyday who don’t get the help they need, who suffer in silence because no one will listen to their cries. So myself, and everyone who worked on this film will be donating all the money made from the film to help our veterans. If you’d like to do your part, you know where to look.” Bucky lifted the award once more, signaling his speech was over.

The crowd stood immediately, the sound of clapping and cheering nearly deafening him as he stepped off the stage and back to Steve. Of course Steve looked downright shocked.

“Babe, are you seriously donating that much money?” Steve knew how much the movie had been able to pull in, and it was nothing to laugh at.

“I am, they deserve to get the help they desperately need, you’re one of the lucky people who got that help.” Bucky pulled Steve into a tight hug, arms squeezing his waist as he pressed a kiss to his lips.

Maybe Bucky was being a little reckless with millions of dollars, but it was something that could save the lives of millions of other people. And Bucky was going to do his part by helping out.

And Steve would be right by his side the whole way.

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