#that he might sabotage his relationships in purpose now and it can come bite him in the ass

[wazzi2ya]

The Millies in Blitzø's hallucination were all speaking and ALL pointing out things Blitzø is insecure about when it comes to his interpersonal relationships, acting as a way to channel his inner doubts and hit him back with them to make him suffer.

It makes me wonder why the illusion of his mom didn't speak a word.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

When a Good Plan Backfires

kol mikealson x reader

summary: elena had it planned to a T. she was going to lure kol to her house where jeremy would be stationed to kill him, not only ridding him from their lives, but also completing the hunter's mark. most everyone was in on the plan, too, and had their own roles. well, everyone, except for you. she had left you out on purpose, fearing you'd interfere to protect the original. what she didn't know, though, was that not warning you would make her whole plan backfire miserably.

tags: major character death, angst, no happy ending, secret relationship, sire bond, TVD s04e12

word count: ~1.9k

Stefan revs his motorcycle before asking Elena to repeat herself. He’s almost in disbelief at her plan. “What did you say?”

“I want Jeremy to kill Kol. He just attacked Bonnie at the school, but now the three of us are planning this out. Bonnie can hold him down, and she can distract Klaus, too. We just need you to dagger Rebekah so she doesn’t come after us.”

“You want to kill an original?”

“I think Jeremy can. Plus, it’s the fastest way to grow this mark so we can find the cure. Just… tell me you’ll handle Rebekah?”

“I can’t dagger her, Elena.”

“Well, why not?”

Stefan doesn’t answer her question.

“Just distract her somehow, please.”

“I’ll try. Hey, does Y/N know about this plan?”

Elena sighs, “we haven’t told her.”

“You really should. Not that I care about Kol, but we all care about her. I think she deserves a warning, at least.”

“I know,” the girl bites her lip, “but I don’t want her to sabotage this to save him.”

“I’m not going to interfere with your plan. If you want to kill Kol and not tell Y/N, fine, but know she might never talk to you again.”

“I don’t want her to hate me, but… he’s going to kill Jeremy, and will try to kill Bonnie again if we don’t do this. And killing him would break Damon’s compulsion, too. Plus… we all know she’ll be better without him in the long run. He’s not a good influence on her; she’s only going to get hurt. This is better for everyone.”

“I agree with that part, I’m just worried about her heart. I’d hate to break it by killing her best friend, especially without her knowledge. She’s still human, it’s not like she’d be able to turn off her humanity to deal with it.”

“Maybe that’s for the better, too. The less bloodthirsty vampires around here, the better. Which is why this needs to happen. Damon needs to be free, Rebekah needs to be handled, and Kol needs to be gone. I’m going to call Matt next and have him try to keep Y/N at The Grill tonight past closing. We can reveal everything afterwards.”

Stefan takes a deep breath, “alright.”

When Matt gets the call, he understands Elena’s point of view. He’s never liked how close you’ve gotten with Kol, and shares the same fears that he’ll hurt you eventually and you, who always loves so deeply, wouldn’t be able to survive it. That, or worse, Kol would snap one day and kill you. So when the girl begs him not to tell you, he agrees with the plan. 

“We’ll all ask for forgiveness after,” he tells her. Elena likes this thought, then hangs up the phone. 

“Hey, Y/N, can you help me a little later tonight? I want to make sure everything is cleaned and stocked well for the morning. I was a little slow by myself last night.”

“Of course! I don’t mind,” you smile, eyes sparkling. You usually get off at eight, but with the plan in effect, Matt wants to keep you at least an extra hour. 

“Cool, thanks!”

◇◇◇◇

Despite agreeing with Elena, working with you that night and knowing what’s about to happen is killing him. The fact that your best friend is about to die - not only just daggered - and you can’t say goodbye to him feels so wrong. He takes a deep breath every time you smile at him, trying not to break. 

Though at nine-thirty, he starts to crack. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Mhm?” You turn to face him, dish in hand. 

“Are you and Kol still… friends?”

You smile at the mention of his name, and Matt feels a pang of regret. “Yeah, why?”

“No reason, just curious.”

A giggle escapes your lips, “I actually was with him this morning. He came by early and we made pancakes.” Matt doesn’t answer, though you continue. “I know he’s been a little shit lately, going after Jeremy, but I just… I know how badly everyone wants the cure, but if Silas is as bad as Kol says he is, I don’t blame him for wanting to prevent them from finding it. And I know going after everyone who threatens to raise Silas is wrong of him, but he’s really scared and doesn’t know how else to deal with it. You know how dysfunctional that whole family is; they’re like the vampiric version of mine,” you joke. 

“You really think he’s being honest about how bad Silas is?”

“I do. Especially considering that the dude’s been cemented for so long, he’ll probably go on a killing spree just to feel alive.”

Matt shifts uncomfortably. “Y/N… I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“Elena-”

He’s cut off by a series of coughs from you, “sorry. I think I might’ve inhaled some pepper,” you mutter, hitting your chest for relief.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you clear your throat. It helps a little, but there’s still a bothersome tickle. “You were saying?”

“Elena and Bonnie are-”

There’s a loud crash as you drop the plate you were holding. It shatters into pieces on the ground. You’re not far behind, falling to the floor, but you catch yourself on the counter with a weak grip. 

“Y/N?!” Matt rushes to your side, “are you okay? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” you cough some more, “I feel dizzy. Everything’s blurry. I,” a third series of coughs take over. They strain your body, making it harder to stand. Matt panics when you lose your grip and fall to the floor. Your body starts to shake, almost like a seizure. “What’s wrong with me?! Oh my god, help!”

“Stay right there! Let me call for help.” He grabs his phone, “shit! I’m calling 911!”

“No, please! Call Kol. Matt, I need him. He can help me.”

“Y/N, I can’t.”

“Why? His number’s 70-”

His lip trembles, “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“A doctor can’t help me, please, you need to call him! Matt, I’m… he…” 

“I’m going to call Elena, okay?”

“Why? What’s going on? Why can’t I see Kol?” More coughing stops your questioning. 

“Elena?”

You hear her voice over the phone, “it’s over, Matt, K-”

The blond cuts her off, “Elena, wait! Stop! I need help, Y/N’s coughing and shaking. She just collapsed on the floor, I don’t know what to do!”

“Call 911, get her to the hospital!”

“She’s asking for Kol, Elena. She’s saying a doctor won’t help. I… I don’t know. I think-”

“Oh god,” she whispers. “Um, shit… bring her here.”

“But if he’s still-”

“Matt, just bring her here. Please.”

“I’ll get there fast.”

As soon as he hangs up, Matt carries your limp body into his truck and speeds off to the Gilberts’ house. You’re too weak to ask questions, and he’s too afraid, making for a silent trip, aside from your coughing. Your limbs are still shaking, jittery, as if you’ve had too much coffee. Though something tells him coffee’s definitely not the problem. When he pulls into their driveway, he turns to you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” Your voice is fragile. It honestly sounds like you’re dying.

“Close your eyes for me, please? You’ll be okay. I’ll guide you.”

“Okay.”

He helps you walk, calling for Elena as he nears the doorway. She opens it right as you reach the threshold. Immediately, your state pales her, “oh my god! What’s wrong with her?!”

“I don’t know! She said not to call the police, and she’s been coughing the whole way here.”

“Bring her inside, let’s-” Elena drops her sentence as she watches the scene before her. Matt had tried to bring you into the house, but an invisible barrier is keeping you out. “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “I…”

Matt tries again, but the doorway refuses your entry.

“Y/N,” Elena clears her throat, “please come in.”

This time, when Matt takes a step, you’re able to follow. 

“No,” the girl is hit with a sudden, horrible realization. “No, no, no, no… it can’t. You can’t.”

“Elena, I’m sorry.”

“When?”

You take a deep breath, “this morning.”

Matt, Elena, and Jeremy all stare in shocked silence. 

“Who turned you?” Jeremy finally asks. Matt already knows; tears fall from his eyes. “Matt?” The boy questions his friend. 

Before you can answer, a voice from behind interrupts, “love?”

Your heart jumps when you hear your nickname. Unfortunately, though, the sudden change in your heartbeat makes you even weaker. “Kol? Are you here?” Against Matt’s wishes, you open your eyes. 

“Love, I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god!” You use the last bit of your energy to make it to his side. He’s on the floor, shallow breaths keeping him alive. You can tell, though, that he’s nearing his last. “Baby, what happened? What’s-” you look around for answers, but receive none. In a last ditch effort, you put your wrist to his lips, “come on, feed. Please.”

“It won’t work, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…” he tries to take a deep breath, “shouldn’t have been selfish. Should’ve left you alone. Human.”

“No, no, no… Kol, I wanted it. Wanted you. I still do, and I always will. You can’t die on me. Please.” You bite your wrist anyway and let a few drops fall, “come on, please! You can’t die, and I don’t want to die, either.” Panic is taking over your body; tears fall faster, coughs are more frequent, hands shake violently. 

Elena’s the first to intervene after the three piece the puzzle together. She rushes over to you, grabbing your shoulder, and biting her wrist. “Y/N, drink.”

“If it won’t work for me, it won’t work for her,” Kol mutters.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” the girl pleads. “We didn’t know. I’m so sorry. Somebody call Stefan, now!”

Matt starts to fumble with his phone again, while Jeremy mutters that he’s going to call Bonnie. 

You don’t answer either of them. Instead, you cup your best friend’s cheeks and lean down to kiss his lips. “I need you, Kol. I love you.” He kisses back, but he’s so weak that it’s as if he’s a ghost. “I’ve had this fantasy, I’ve wanted to share with you… us leaving together. Let everyone here find their stupid cure, raise Silas, whatever, because we’d be thousands of miles away. We could keep each other safe, and we wouldn’t have to deal with all the drama here anymore. I wouldn’t have to live in fear of losing you, and we could just be happy.”

“Love…” he blinks back a tear, “look at me.” You do, and he continues, “take a deep breath. Relax.” Immediately, you calm down until you’re content and listening to him. “I love you so much. I promise I’ll find you wherever we end up. If there’s any afterlife at all, I won’t stop searching until we’re together. But for now, I want you to be at peace, just until your spirit can move on. Let it rest, love. We’ll be okay.”

You nod, all panic eased, and lay down beside him. “I love you,” you repeat.

“There you go. I love you, too. We’ll find each other again.” He kisses your hand, and then his chest rises and falls one last time. 

“Kol?” You know he’s gone, but can’t help but ask anyway. The silence tears your heart in two, but you don’t cry. You don’t cry, you don’t yell, you don’t even move. You just stare, stone cold on the outside, yet with a heart full of emotion. 

“Y/N?” Elena gets your attention, “are you alright?”

“I’ll be okay.” You smile up at her, then look back down at Kol. “We’ll be okay.” A second later, you too, draw your last breath. 

[cheolsfae]

Please do current love reading for enhypen jay

February 7, 2024

*Disclaimer: solely for fun! Please do not take this seriously. For entertainment purposes only!*

Significant numbers? 6,7,8

Past: 7 of pentacles, ace of cups

He could of had a very innocent idea of what love was supposed to be like. But I don't think it panned out the way he had thought love and romance were supposed to be like. Reality hit him and it's nothing like he imagined. It didn't bite him in the ass but it did push him around a bit. This could have happened when he was younger. Like maybe high school or something. But this was a very innocent vision of romance he had until he met that old person.

Present: ace of pentacles, 10 of swords (reversed)

He might be wanting to make a move towards someone right now. Asking them on a date and such, he might have healed from this past relationship and now he feels like he's in a place where he can give that love. He's released all of that negativity and looking towards the new. He feels like he is secure in his standing. He feels like he has the ability to take the lead in a relationship. He doesn't feel scared.

Future: queen of swords, 8 of pentacles (reversed)

This is going to sound so negative and I'm sorry, It's just the message coming through!! This isn't going to last and it's because he realizes he needs to work on himself. He does not trust this person. He might think that this person is hiding something. I don't feel that they are, he's just letting his mind run wild. This person won't put up with it for very long. He's self sabotaging!

Bottom of the deck: the high priestess, 6 of pentacles wanting to be shown too

Again, he could be thinking this person is hiding something. This person could be giving the same amount as him but he doesn't really know what to do with it so it's scaring the shit out of him. It's definitely delusion thinking. He has a whole lot of healing to do. This relationship/situation-ship will make him open his mind's eye and realize he isn't finished healing yet.

*Oracle deck was also used!

[animeyanderelover]

Do you write for owari no seraph? How about yandere Crowley Eusford and Ferid Bathory headcanons?

Thank you... Remember to rest.

I am so sorry that it takes me so long to answer those requests...

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, manipulation, blackmailing, sabotage, isolation, degradation, threatening, sadism, violence, control, abduction, death

Yandere Owari no Seraph Hc's

Ferid Bathory

💜Ferid might as well believe that he can never find someone he truly loves since he looks down on humans and mocks the arrogance of his own kind. Immortality has become bored to him as there is nothing that he sees worthy as calling a reason to live anymore. So surely you can't be any different than others. You merely are there to amuse him and serve him for a while with your delicious blood. His growing obsession flies over the head mainly because he believes that he can never love someone. With that being said, Ferid is a shrewd person so he doesn't stay oblivious for too long. He's not even mad or anything, he's thrilled when he discovers that he actually gained a genuine romantic interest in someone. His boredom disappears as he is suddenly overly focused on you, forces you to tell him everything about you and treats you something nice in return. He quickly demands all of your time as he wants to keep you the entire day in his mansion so he knows where you are when he wants you.

💜​Very possessive and manipulative. His s/o is like a little and adorable rainbow in his normally boring and gray world and since Ferid is selfish, he doesn't hesitate to keep such a miracle as close to his body as possible. His high and noble position and his overall behavior are overly manipulative as he doesn't hesitate to take advantage of his position and superiority to blackmail and sabotage you. No hesitation to lie to you if it benefits his insatiable greed as well as confronting you with the cruel truth whenever he sees it to his best advantage. Ferid has no shame to blame you for things that are not your fault and that he in fact caused or calling you out for certain traits of yours that he exhibits in a much worse fashion. The vampire tends to be clingy and overly touchy, sometimes for the sole purpose to make you uncomfortable. He's a pure mystery and unpredictable yet without a doubt nasty as he has a sadistic streak, enjoys it when he can torment you and be entertained by your horrified reaction.

💜​You're his most priced possession and it should be common knowledge that you don't touch what belongs to others, right? Sure, he doesn't even follow that principle himself yet expects others to follow it, especially when it comes to his little human here. He likes to flaunt you sometimes and ruin your pride a bit in the process as he forces you to wear a collar and chooses clothes that expose the bite marks and hickies of his. It's a "look but don't touch" philosophy he uses. Less jealous but more possessive as Ferid has no intention to let you ever leave his side. When someone expresses a too keen interest in you, he tugs you closer as he is quick to hide everything behind his inoffensive smirk though his words are sharpened with the intention to hit a nerve. If his s/o seems to like someone else he humiliates your crush and you alike in front of each other, chides you later on in private for being such a bad pet before he locks you away. He can't have you like someone else, can he now?

💜​He enjoys toying with people a lot, especially if he knows that it puts you on edge too. Ferid expresses little care for others so he can dispose of them quickly. Before that he likes to push them until they break though as he feels a certain joy when he feeds them with false hope before shattering them. Due to his possessive side that doesn't allow it for you to like anyone and his sadistic side, he just uses such chances to break you down on your knees as you beg to leave whoever is precious to you alone as well, willing to do anything. There is a constant risk that he will kill those dear to you and Ferid uses this macabre situation to his utmost advantage. If you misbehave and displease him, he will kill someone you love and go as far as present a detached limb of theirs to you with a hideous smile as he taunts that it's your fault for being so dumb. The only time you'll see a similar chilly smile on his face is when he confronts someone who tried to take you away from him or hurt you severely. How stupid.

💜​He locks his darling away whenever the hell he feels like it, though a punishment of yours include not being allowed to go outside, often when you expressed interest in someone else, tried to escape or he suspects that someone is targeting you. Don't worry, the silver chain on your ankle looks at least gorgeous on you. It's honestly up to his mood whether he wants to show everyone his darling pet or if he wants to be alone with you and play dress-up doll with you. You're not going to leave him as it is, not when he loves you so dearly as he does. Chances are that you are forced to spend hours trying on the clothes he bought for you, have to endure him smothering you hours on end or are to give him your sweet blood. He does so much for you after all, you ought to be a bit more grateful and repay his kindness somehow. He probably installs quite a bit fear into his s/o as he tells them that without him they'd be a nobody rotting away on the streets.

💜​Whether he is currently doting on you or degrading you, he always cooes over you in a sickenly sweet tone. You never see him mad even if you land a hit on him or yell at him, he never yells back but chides you. The nasty smile and the excited glimmer in his eyes are the only signs that he plans something. Initially Ferid seems to be fine if you hate him as long as you don't like someone else and obey him, though he doesn't mind playing with your fire a bit. As time passes by, he starts to yearn for a more tender side of yours, one where you are more vulnerable and long for him. It sparks into something bigger with more time as he finds his jealousy growing when you express yourself more openly around others and not him as it serves to irritate him. He tries to treat you more gently afterwards in an attempt to have you soften up. The vampire enjoys to spoil his s/o as it is and even if he chains you up and smears blood of others on your clothes, he still demands that you look pretty for him.

Crowley Eusford

❤️‍🔥​Differently from Ferid who disregards despite awareness his whole obsession. Crowley harbors some conflicted emotions. He doesn't know how to feel about falling in love with livestock, is overall unsure what to think of his emotions which dwell over inside of his heart. One of the most obvious things from the very beginning is that Crowley is very protective over his s/o. He sends Chess and Horn out so they can gather information on you and abuses his power himself to find out more about you. Livestock isn't treated the best so he most likely ends up making sure to privilege you alongside with your family, demands in return that you spend time with him though. Significantly more tame than Ferid since Crowley is more genuine with his attempts to gain your trust. He understands why you're skittish around him yet the sight bothers him. Longing for affection seems to consume him the more you are with him.

❤️‍🔥​You are a literal witness to him growing more possessive over you the more he gets to know you and his silent need for more fuels this. Crowley becomes unusually strict when it comes to you potentially liking someone else, a displeased look on his face as he grows more intimidating. Not quite as forceful but still ready to abuse his position and remind you that he's the one who allows your family a better life if you act up. At one point he eventually wants to taste your blood, something you dreaded yet there is no choice. Never allows any other vampire to taste your blood afterwards. If there isn't someone annoying him or you are disobeying him, the vampire is quite laid-back and lenient with you, you dare to say soft and gentle. His confusion eventually vanishes as he learns to embrace the warm feeling inside his chest, something he didn't expect to feel ever again.

❤️‍🔥​His lenience shines through as he allows you to spend time with family and friends even if he at one point doesn't let you go alone anymore. Chess and/or Horn accompany you all the time though they don't necessarily are in the same room as you. He respects your own boundaries as good as he can as he acknowledges that you have people who are important in your life. Your family is probably terrified for you since you're essentially a vampire's personal pet at this point, even if they get the better treatment in return. Any sane person stays away from you when you are permitted to walk outside due to the girls or Crowley himself being with you. He doesn't isolate you after all though he expects you to know that he doesn't like you having feelings for someone else. His calm presence alone is enough to intimidate humans as it is and if someone is still overly persistent with you, he has no problem grabbing the person by the neck and nearly strangling them in the process. Maybe you can stop him.

❤️‍🔥​Crowley isn't unnecessarily cruel nor sadistic like Ferid is even with his growing possessive behavior towards you and his expectations for you to show him your affection. That said every fool who believes that they can woo you in front of him or take you away from him will be personally drained of blood by him or simply strangled, he halts when it comes to your family and maybe your friends but will punish them somehow nevertheless. Whilst he has a soft spot for you, that doesn't mean that he's completely harmless either. Crowley isn't one to play mind games either, he's just brutal and maybe swift when he gets rid of someone. At least he doesn't rub it into your face that it's your fault until you break down in tears.

❤️‍🔥​It's more like slowly being caged in as Crowley expects you to be with him in the mansion more and more, even if he has to leave to fulfill his duty as the Thirteenth Progenitor. You're still allowed to go outside and visit family and friends as long as you inform him about it and he gives his permission since Chess and Horn won't let you leave as long as he hasn't told them that it's fine. You can exchange alternatively letters with your loved ones. He respects privacy as good as he can, gives you time alone if you want it. He tends to space out anyways when he thinks of you. There is a limit though as he wants to spend time with you, suspects that you don't want him near you in which case he turns more forceful. As much as he tries to be mindful, at one point he ends up forcing his love on you, blackmails you by reminding you that he's the one who guards your family and he only does this because he loves you.

❤️‍🔥​He won't hesitate to punish you even if he is reasonable. Depending on how far you went, he will either either drink your blood until you pass out, leave bruises or even break your bones. He's frightening since the soft shimmer in his eyes is gone, he even threatens you to throw your parents and friends under vampires to let them do as they want since they're just livestock, nothing more without his protection. If his s/o returns his love and indulges him in his desire, Crowley is fairly pleasant. He's playfully teasing you to embarrass you and fluster you and spoils you with whatever you want, reassures you that you don't have to worry about your family since they're under his protection. He is even as gentle as he can to not hurt you when he takes your blood though he sometimes loses himself in the sweet taste and takes a bit too much. Coaxes you into his arms or places you into his lap whenever he can.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

To Our Beloved Tartaglia

Summary: A story on how two people say i love you without saying it.

A/N: Fluff for today’s birthday boy! I’m buying him a cake and celebrating his birthday! Implied sex at the end.

--

The freezing temperature of Dragonspine was one you’ve grown to find as a minor inconvenience. Though you do enjoy playing in its place and exploring it for treasures, you’ve never grown to like it. It was just a tourist destination in your humble opinion. Not that anyone who knew you agreed, even Paimon had wondered if you were quite alright in your brain.

Of course, correlation breeds attachment and from the moment you heard Tartaglia offhandedly mention how Dragonspine was like Snezhnaya in its freezing temperature, you’ve dedicated a time in the day to spend time in it to ensure that your body would not be shocked when it finally lands in Snezhnaya. If anyone noticed how you’ve silently grown fond of the place, you’d deny to your dying breath that it had to do with Tartaglia.

Not even Kaeya’s impressive boob window would be able to make you admit your growing intentions to tie down the volatile Harbinger to your side through marriage. There were some things you wanted to keep close to your chest, and this was one of them.

It stood to reason then that you would have kept your sudden desire to perfect the art of cocktail mixing or to be more honest, perfecting Blue Lagoon. Your sudden daily appearance in Cat’s Tail had been the talk of Mondstadt, it grew large enough that even the Traveler and Paimon had dropped by.

“Paimon wonders why you would work here just to practice your bartending skills?” Paimon had asked after being served a non-alcoholic drink.

“I wanted to make a drink for Childe with the fire water he gifted me on my birthday” You revealed as you finished the Long Island and gave it to the Traveler, “On the house.”

You winked at them.

“Huh? Why would you even want to do that?”

You smiled and didn’t answer Paimon, opting to give her food to distract her. On the side, the Traveler gave you a knowing look but you merely signaled them to keep it a secret. 

--

“I really hate the taste of fire water but it does its job in the cold. I don’t know why you’d want something like this, comrade...but if it makes you happy-”

“Since you hate the taste of it, give me enough time to make a drink suitable for you.”

“Hahaha! There’s no need to go that far, I’ve drank this when I was just a year in the Fatui!”

“Then I’ll give you a drink just for you as Tartaglia.”

--

When you saw his letter today, you couldn’t help but feel the bubbling emotion in your heart. Excitement rushed through your veins as you ignored the rest of the letters addressed to you to read his letter. You sat in front of your house’s door step, smile on your face as you read his letter.

You couldn’t help but imagine the whine in his tone, you lamented that the two of you couldn’t have bumped into him at Dragonspine but your travels took you far and wide through Teyvat. The chances of meeting him by chance were low, so you resigned on buying information of his whereabouts.

Nothing substantial, just sightings of him if only to fake a chance meeting but it didn't happen so far. The two of you were always on the opposite ends of Teyvat that you had half a mind that Celestia itself was sabotaging your love life. Your heart felt elated at knowing he was fondly remembering the time you had spent with each other, as well as the sparring sessions that always seemed like on the verge of something more.

When your eyes read the final words on his letter, you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken.

“A special day?” You muttered to yourself, your mind quickly churning as you hastily went inside your rented home in Mondstadt and quickly rushed towards your room to grab your room to change your clothes. You had thought he was in Snezhnaya so you had already sent his gift earlier, timing it so that it would arrive today but if his letter was to be understood, it meant that he was in Liyue today.

‘If I use the waypoints, I can get there quickly and spend the day with him!’ You thought as you began to meticulously fix yourself. You wanted to show him the best sides of you today.

Your clothes were meticulously picked, the outfit would pose no hazards during a battle while at the same time accentuating your figure and increasing your charm. You wanted to be prepared on the off chance Tartaglia wanted to have a spar, but if he wanted to go on a date,

“Then I’ll be prepared as well!” You giggled as you finished checking yourself out and began to apply light waterproof make-up. Your lips were glossed and purposely drawn to capture his attention on how kissable it was.

You sprayed a soft floral perfume before winking at the mirror and making your way to the nearest warp point and teleporting yourself in Liyue. 

You landed softly in front of the teleport waypoint in Feiyun Slope. The effort you spent on yourself was noticeable, the mid-morning populace of Liyue took a couple of glances at you. Anyone could tell that you were about to go on a date, eyes followed you as you happily walked towards the Northland Bank.

“Good morning, Vlad!”

“O-oh! Good morning! Are you here for Lord Tartaglia?” Vlad asked you, blushing after being caught mid-yawn.

“Yeah, I was hoping he was around here” You replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your haste.

Vlad grinned, it was no secret to the employees of the Northland Bank that you and Lord Tartaglia frequently went out together. As far as they were concerned, marriage was a foregone conclusion between the two of you.

“Of course! Just head straight to the second floor! Lord Tartaglia is still in his office around this time!” 

“Thanks! I heard Nadia’s into crab tofu this days~” You happily helped Vlad to further his relationship with Nadia.

Each step that you took made your smile brighter, your head was full of thoughts about him. Wondering if he had gotten stronger, was he eating well, did he get new scars, had he visited his family recently, was he taking good care of himself. All of this went through your head as you headed to his office but most of all you thought,

‘Did you think of me as much as I thought of you?’

Your heart was bursting at the seams and you couldn’t wait to be reunited with him. Your footsteps slowed as you reached the door to his office, you could hear the soft muffled sounds of scribbling behind the door. You stood in front of it, debating, thinking, on the words you wanted to say to him.

You hesitated, wondering if the words on his letter were just politeness and not a reflection of his true feelings towards you. You lingered in front of the door, listening to the sounds inside the room, and wondered if you could cross the line today. You thought of the package that had surely already arrived in Snezhnaya, before your thoughts could even spiral further down the road, the door opened and in front of you stood Tartaglia.

Somehow, against your will, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your traitorous body revealing your heart right in front of him without any regard for your reservations.

“Tartaglia!” 

And when he smiled back, eyes soft as if the mere mention of his name had not revealed your fondness of him, you felt yourself fall in love with him again.

Your name felt safe in his mouth, treasured, and when he pulled you close and held you in a tight embrace, you prayed that he wouldn’t hear the quick and rapid pump of your heart nor would he realize how easily you melted in his embrace.

“You came! I didn’t really expect you to come so quickly!” His tone was bashful, pleased, and a little bit shy and it made you even softer for him.

“Neither did I! I was hoping you were here since I’ve never been to your home in Morepesok before…” You trailed off, feeling shy.

He laughed softly, “If you keep that up, I might just really think you’ve missed me so much!”

“I did miss you” You admitted with soft eyes as you watched his face slowly turn red.

“Comrade…” Tartaglia averted his eyes, the back of his covering half of his face, “I’m no match for you today.”

You chuckled softly, “Mhm. Before that let me greet you first.”

He looked at you and you wondered what sort of face you were making right now. You sincerely hoped it wasn’t weird or ugly.

“I’m listening.”

“Tartaglia, Happy birthday” You stepped closer to his personal space, hands on his chest as you tiptoed and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve actually sent your gift to Morepesok but since you’re here...today I’ll give myself to you.”

Tartaglia blushed as he grasped your hands and with unconcealed anticipation replied, “How bold! I can’t believe you’re saying that in broad daylight!”

“What’s bold about it?” You asked him “I’m willing to do anything you want today as your present since your real one is in Snezhnaya.”

“Oh.”

You frowned at his reaction, “I-I can change it to something else! Do you want new weapons?” You worried that you had disappointed him with your stand-in gift.

“No!” 

He coughed upon realizing his reaction and hastened to explain himself, “I mean, I’m glad to have you today! You can’t change it to something else!”

You felt relieved at his words. Tartaglia continued speaking, “I want to go on a date with you today, eat your cooking for lunch, and then spar in the afternoon, and we finish this at my room.”

“As you wish!”

--

In the morning, after Tartaglia had finished signing and writing the documents for the Fatui, the two of you ate breakfast at Wanmin Restaurant. His skills in using chopsticks were marginally better but it still took him many attempts before he could eat a couple of bites.

It was cute. It was endearing. And you were so so in love that you didn’t mind picking up the crystal shrimp and feeding it to him. 

“C’mon now, don’t be shy” You told him when his mouth remained close and you could see the hesitation in his eyes “You’ll need all the energy for our fight later.”

You locked eyes with him as he ate from your chopsticks, seeing up close how long his lashes were, the slight curl on its end and the fascinating blue of his eyes. You wondered if Tartaglia could see how much you loved him, if your eyes betrayed the depth of your affection for him. But as soon as he removed his mouth from the chopsticks, crystal shrimp gone, the moment had ended and you ate from your bowl of Universal Peace.

When you saw him swallow, you immediately reached for the Squirrel Fish and took a piece of it, offered it to him and Tartaglia ate. Had it anyone else you wouldn’t have bothered but as always, Tartaglia managed to be the exception and you didn’t mind.

After eating, the two of you walked along Liyue Harbor, browsing shops and buying him small trinkets to bring back home. You visited the blacksmith to commission him a new bow, one designed to further improve his skills at the bow. You would pick it up later in the day, and Tartaglia dragged you to watch opera. The two of you sat close, closer than usual and the butterflies in your stomach never settled down. His hand never left yours and you wondered what sort of picture the two of you painted in the eyes of Liyue’s populace.

You couldn’t help but wish that you could keep on celebrating his birthdays with him from now on.

By the time the play ended it was past lunch time, so the two you went to the market stalls and bought ingredients for a late lunch before heading back to his apartment. Tartaglia helped as you made his longevity noodles, telling him the story behind it from a time before Rex Lapis’.

“I guess, you must really like me that much if you’re giving me this to eat!”

“Well, since we met in the middle of my life, I wanted to make sure that we’d have a lot of time to spend together to make up for it” You teased him even if it was the truth.

You didn’t know what the future held for both of you but you wanted to be part of his life longer than the time you weren’t in it. In his kitchen, you served him the noodles, every part of it made with love and well-wishes for his life and you hoped that there would be more years to come that you could spend it this way.

‘I wonder if you could tell how much I love you with each bite you take?’

When all was said and done, when the two of you had gone through all of his wishes, you both sat at the pavilion in the Dwelling in the Clouds, stargazing and observing Celestia. Between the two of you were two glasses filled with Blue Lagoon.

“You know, I never thought that you’d really make a drink with Fire Water that I’d like” Tartaglia said, his gaze far away “Say, do you do this for others too?”

“I don’t” You confessed, your face felt like it was on fire, you had never been comfortable speaking out your love unless it was hidden behind a joke or said in a playful careless manner.

A moment later, Tartaglia’s movement had you looking at him, drinking in the rare sight of his gentle smile, a genuine one that carried only what you dared to hope was fondness for you.

“If you keep this up, looking at me like that, I might really get my hopes up” His voice was soft and gentle as his face came closer to yours.

“Say comrade, if I kissed you right now what would you do?”

Before you could even think of a reply his lips were on yours and you were pushed down the bench, glasses strewn aside as Tartaglia’s tongue entered your open mouth and kissed you deeply. Your arms embraced his neck as the two of you kissed passionately, drowning in each other in gentle passionate bliss above the clouds. His hand lingered on your thigh, squeezing and caressing it as he applied pressure on your crotch and creating a friction that had you arching your body close.

When the two of you came up for air, you looked so debauched that Tartaglia almost couldn’t help but devour you right then. The flush on your cheeks, the dazed look in your eyes and your glistening red lips that had been a temptation to him all day created a picture that would always linger in his mind.

“If I asked you to give yourself to me…” Tartaglia’s hand traveled down your inner thigh, getting closer to the sides of your crotch “would you?”

“...yes” You covered your eyes, if only to hide your embarrassment.

His soft laughter had you peeking back at him.

“Thank you”

His lips were back on yours and made no move to stop him as his hands went under your clothes, playing with your body as if he had spent time thinking on how to elicit moans from your mouth. He was gentle but purposeful in his acts as your clothes were removed piece by piece and discarded into a pile on the floor.

You bit your hand as he took you apart again and again, plunging you into a passionate love affair that had you crying for his name and tasting the sweetness of his love with each kiss. It felt sacrilegious to have done such an act in a place owned by the Adepti but each bite, each kiss, had your heart pounding in excitement.

You loved him as ardently as the fires of Natlan, as deep as the waters of Liyue’s seas, you loved him with all of your heart and every fiber of your being. What bliss it was to experience this love that made you feel human, that the mere mention of his name could bring a smile on your face.

How wonderful it was to be in his arms right now, enjoying the bliss of being loved and loved in return. With your hands clasped together with his, your heart filled to the seams, you spoke,

“I’m glad to have met you.”

--

When Tartaglia had left that letter on your doorstep,  he had stood in front of it for a long while. Wondering what you would say if he was the first thing you saw in the morning. Would you greet him with a happy birthday? Or would you scream in fright? His thoughts went on and on as he merely stood there thinking upon dozens of scenarios if only for you to be the first one to wish him a happy birthday.

He wanted to tell you that his days were no longer the same without you by his side, that the mundane everyday life no longer felt exciting when you weren’t there to experience it with him. He wanted to tell you how he always wanted you to just show up whenever your informants inquired about him.

He had entertained the thought that you would one day show up in his workplace, food in hand and his name on your lips but he knew that you were the type to stick to your duties, and really he couldn't fault you for that when he was the same. But sometimes, the selfish and childish part of him wanted you to throw away everything for him.

Just for a while, just for a moment, if only to have something to look back upon when all was said and done.

So when he had seen you standing before him, eyes bright and looking at him like he was your most cherished person, he couldn’t help the happiness that was bursting at the seams. And now that you were in his arms, on his lap with your head on his chest, he couldn’t help but kiss you again and again. Making up for lost time, for all of those moments when he could have breached the line and made a move but didn’t.

“Stay with me” He offered, asked even when he knew that it was impossible right now. Not when either of your allegiance could go against each other any time, you with the Adventurer’s guild and him with the Fatui.

“One day” you promised.

And that was enough for him. It gave him hope that both of you would make it out alive. It gave him something to look forward to when his time with the Harbingers had come to an end.

[ritsushinbro]

My Critique of Rebuild of Evangelion's Characterization: I originally wrote this post on the Evageeks forum and decided to post it here. It discusses the relationship between Misato, WILLE and the pilots and whether it is realistic and in-character. Warning this post contains spoilers and is very long. Also has references to self-harm and suicide.

With each revelation that comes out regarding the measures WILLE take against Shinji and their own pilots, it becomes more and more unrealistic for me to the point where it's almost comical. Let's go through some of them here:

They wear the explosive DSS chokers 24/7 which will kill the pilots should they risk awakening an Eva.

They are kept in a single room rigged with explosives.

In Shinji's case, he is (intended to be) put in 24/7 solitary confinement with explosives fitted as well.

Shinji is escorted around the wunder whilst restrained on a stretcher. (NOTE: The only time he isn't, is when Sakura takes him to Ritsuko).

It is confirmed in another thread that Misato gave clear permission to the crew for them to shoot Shinji on sight if they suspect he is attempting to get into an Eva. 

Now let me attempt to deconstruct these measures one-by-one:

It is understandable that Asuka and Mari wear DSS chokers because after all they are pilots and there is a risk of awakening. However in Shinji's case, he is forbidden from piloting and so there is no risk of awakening (remember Ritsuko did not think NERV would come after him, so they had no reason to think he would escape). So why place the DSS choker on him? Well we have already established it is simply because they have a resentment against him; there is no special, pragmatic reason. Is this realistic? Well I would say no for reasons I will explain later but I can certainly understand why others may say it is.

I don't think I will understand why they would keep their two main "soldiers" if you will, in an explosively rigged room. I believe others have  stated that from a tactical point, it's an extremely dumb move on WILLE's part. After all, if Asuka and Mari didn't have plot armor, what's to stop Gendo from tricking WILLE into killing their own pilots with these explosives? How would WILLE stop Gendo then? Will they use Shinji? No, for reasons I will state later. And another thing, we know that their rooms were already fitted with explosives so why on Earth would they add extra after the events of Q (when they stopped 4th impact). What do they hope to achieve with more bombs? Make the pilots more "deader" than they already are? In my opinion, this doesn't even come across as paranoid but just plain childish. Is this measure realistic from a story standpoint? No not in my eyes.

We know they intended to put Shinji in a solitary cell as this is what they do in Shin. If it was solitary confinement on it's own, then I believe it would be a realistic measure that would happen in real life. However I believe the writers did not factor in the effects of solitary confinement (especially one that is rigged to explode) on fully grown men; never mind a 14 year old who's just come out of a 14 year coma. Many people think solitary confinement is a walk in the park so I made another post a while ago highlighting why that's not the case:

"I remember when before Shin came out people here theorized that if Shinji stayed on the Wunder, they would eventually softened to him and let him help in ways that wouldn't have involved piloting. However with these revelations it looks like they intended to keep him in an isolated room far from everyone else that is (presumably) rigged with explosives as well as keeping the choker on his neck. Not even allowed to freely leave his cell without WILLE's permission (it is unlikely they would let him out judging from these measures). 

Even though Asuka and Mari were treated like this as well, at least they had each other and were able to leave as they had responsibilities in piloting. But Shinji was forbidden from piloting and was to be kept by himself except maybe being checked up on by Sakura now and again. So judging from these leaks (we will have to wait to properly see the full context) WILLE intended to lock Shinji in solitary confinement.

I have copied and pasted some of the effects of Solitary Confinement from Wikipedia below:

“Psychiatric: Research indicates that the psychological effects of solitary confinement may encompass "anxiety, depression, anger, cognitive disturbances, perceptual distortions, obsessive thoughts, paranoia, and psychosis." The lack of human contact, and the sensory deprivation that often go with solitary confinement, can have a severe negative impact on a prisoner's mental state that may lead to certain mental illnesses such as depression, permanent or semi-permanent changes to brain physiology, an existential crisis, and death.

Self-harm: According to a March 2014 article in American Journal of Public Health, "Inmates in jails and prisons attempt to harm themselves in many ways, resulting in outcomes ranging from trivial to fatal." Self harm was seven times higher among the inmates where seven percent of the jail population was confined in isolation. Fifty-three percent of all acts of self harm took place in jail. "Self-harm" included, but was not limited to, cutting, banging heads, self-amputations of fingers or testicles. These inmates were in bare cells, and were prone to jumping off their beds head first into the floor or even biting through their veins in their wrists. A main issue within the prison system and solitary confinement is the high number of inmates who turn to self-harm. Many of the inmates look to self-harm as a way to "avoid the rigors of solitary confinement."

Physical: Solitary confinement has been reported to cause hypertension, headaches and migraines, profuse sweating, dizziness, and heart palpitations. Many inmates also experience extreme weight loss due to digestion complications and abdominal pain. Many of these symptoms are due to the intense anxiety and sensory deprivation. Inmates can also experience neck and back pain and muscle stiffness due to long periods of little to no physical activity. These symptoms often worsen with repeated visits to solitary confinement.

Social: The effects of isolation unfortunately do not stop once the inmate has been released. After release from segregated housing, psychological effects have the ability to sabotage a prisoner's potential to successfully return to the community and adjust back to ‘normal’ life. The inmates are often startled easily, and avoid crowds and public places. They seek out confined small spaces because the public areas overwhelm their sensory stimulation.”

And this is just for solitary confinement. There are so many other things going on with and happening (or could happen) to Shinji such as the things below:

Shinji being only 14 years old.

Shinji being abandoned and neglected by his father.

Shinji being coerced/emotionally blackmailed to pilot Unit 1.

Shinji seeing girls he cared for "die".

Shinji being in a coma for 14 years.

Shinji being told he has a bomb on his neck.

Being told it is because he is being punished.

Being told he cannot pilot the eva anymore (he is effectively "useless" now).

Have his former co-pilot and friend try and punch him after he thought she was dead.

[Potentially] being told he started NTI and devastated the world.

[Potentially] being told that the girl he tried to save is "gone" and that she was a clone of his mother.

Being imprisoned in a cell (presumably) surrounded by explosives and not being able to freely leave.

Be completely isolated from everyone except when being checked up by a girl who's father he got killed. (NOTE: Mari might want to see him so Shinji at least has her, maybe). 

Have his mother figure (the woman who made him pilot the eva the most) threaten to detonate the choker around his neck and blow his head off when he tries to leave.

With the above list, is it any wonder his head is so messed up? I understand the purpose of these films is all about growing up and taking responsibility but expecting Shinji to willingly allow himself to be subjected to the treatment WILLE had in store for him is pure, unadulterated masochism. Much of what was is written here can safely be considered cruel, inhumane and arguably, torture. 

There is a massive difference between taking responsibility for one's mistakes and just letting the whole world torture you because you did something bad. My main fear and problem with Q and Thrice is that their main theme, which is accepting responsibility, is equated with accepting unreasonably cruel treatment. And I just think that is an EXTREMELY unhealthy message to send to people especially if they are depressed or live in abusive relationships."

When you take all these into account, does it place into perspective how messed up Shinji would have been had he stayed on the wunder? This is assuming that they thought they would never have a need for him, but as we find out in Shin, they needed Shinji in the end to defeat Gendo. If Shinji never left with Mark 09 and Misato successfully kept him "protective" custody, then one of three things would have happened when WILLE actually needed him to save everyone:

A: He would not have been in the mental state to pilot Unit 1 and Gendo would have completely wrecked him due to shit synch ratios. 

B: He would have told Misato and co. to fuck off and die. We've seen this nihilism before from Shinji (after the 5th angel). His incarceration alongside the humiliation and guilt from wearing the choker will have ratcheted up by a million.

C: He wouldn't have piloted because he would have killed himself. There's only so much a 14 year old can take and when subjected to a fate that causes even hardened criminals to resort to self-harm, genital mutilation and suicide, then what chance does Shinji have? 

Now back to my original point, do I think this measure is realistic? I would like to say yes if it was the solitary on it's own, however when combined with the other things, then I think the chances of Shinji commiting suicide is extremely high to the point where it's not believable for him to continue as an anime protagonist. You have to make sure the protagonist goes through difficulty in order to experience growth and change, however if you make it too harsh (to the point of committing suicide) then it seems less believable that they live to continue the story. On a separate note, many people think that Shinji was immature for leaving with Mark 09 the first chance he got and that this is proof that he is, in Asuka's words, a "brat". But let's be realistic, if this story is about Shinji's growth and maturation, then how exactly would WILLE's treatment of him be conducive to that? The truth is WILLE's sheer hostility towards him would have completely stunted any emotional growth and maturation in Shinji and it would have destroyed the point of the film. Also no-one can argue that WILLE would have eventually "come round" or "softened-up" towards Shinji because even after 14 years they still don't trust their own pilots. So yeah, Shinji most likely would have been stuck in solitary with a bomb around his neck until he either killed himself or the war ended (but even this doesn't guarantee his freedom).

Regarding the stretcher business. I don't understand why you have to restrain Shinji on a stretcher when the kid has already surrendered himself and has come voluntarily. Maybe WILLE are just full of bondage fetishists; it would certainly explain the chokers as well. 

If the DSS chokers and the explosive rooms weren't enough, Misato actually gave orders to the crew to shoot Shinji if they thought he was trying to pilot again. At this point, I just think this is just overkill. I mean the kid has a bomb on his neck that prevents him from awakening an Eva, you intended to keep him locked up even though he can't really leave the wunder except with outside help and now you intend to shoot him if you think he'll get into an Eva. The problem with this, is that piloting an Eva requires all the bridge-bunnies to sortie the damn thing. Shinji cannot enter Unit 1 by himself, especially since the thing is being used as an engine so why do they assume that Shinji is capable of being Sam Fisher and sneaking into Unit 1? We see that Sakura and Midori are actually willing to shoot Shinji in 3.0+1.0 and do so when he merely suggests that he pilot Unit 1. But seriously what harm would Shinji have done in Unit 1 considering the fact that Gendo was already going to start another impact anyway? Why actively try and kill (or injure in Sakura's case) the only guy that can save your ass? One cannot argue that they were just being "desperate or panicking" because in Midori's case, she actually takes the time to confirm her orders from Misato. This shows that at least, she was still of lucid mind. This particular altercation just beggars belief in my mind and the fact that Misato actually gave those orders on top of all the other measures is absolutely extraordinary. So as you can imagine, I do not think this was realistically executed.

However, I can already hear some detractors say: "So what? Misato hesitated to detonate the DSS choker and also took a bullet for Shinji. She redeemed herself from putting the DSS choker on him and the kill-order for if they thought he would try and get into an Eva." 

And to those people I say….not really. There is an idiom attributed to Benjamin Franklin and it goes like this: "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." How does this apply to Misato and Shinji's relationship? Well Misato wouldn't have had to hesitate to pull the trigger if she didn't put it on him in the first place. Misato wouldn't have had to take a bullet for Shinji, if she didn't give permission for the crew to shoot him in the first place. Let's take this following dialogue for example:

916-929:

Kitakami: "It's a good thing we got Major Shikinami back. But why'd we have to take that disease along with her?"

Aoba: "Just leave it alone. Better than Nerv still being able to use him."

Tama: "If he tries to get into an Evangelion, all hands have permission to shoot on sight. There's nothing to worry about this time."

Kitakami: "Come on, that's all for show. The last time he broke out of here, the Captain couldn't put him down. I've got zero trust about this time either."

Nagara: "He was a kid. I can understand why she'd hesitate."

Kitakami: "That 'kid' caused Near Third Impact and murdered my entire family!"

Hyuga: "Near Third was a consequence of what he did, not his goal. The Captain's doing her best to atone for that too."

Takao: "That's right. She's who Kaji entrusted with Wille, and it's our job to trust the captain."

We learn a few things from this dialogue. Firstly, the older WILLE members are much more understanding to Shinji and Misato's situation: Aoba and Hyuga understand that it's better to keep an eye on Shinji and that he never meant to start NTI, Takao is one who always trusts Misato's judgement and Sumire understands that Misato would have found it difficult to kill a child, especially one that Misato was close with. 

Secondly, it appears that the younger WILLE members (Midori, Sakura and Tama) are the ones that are fearful/hateful towards Shinji (NOTE: Tama is a strange case, he strikes me as the sort of kid that just follows what everyone else is feeling. He might not feel anything towards Shinji beyond what you'd expect). 

Finally it appears that most of WILLE crew members are actually reasonable people and are not the extremely desperate and paranoid individuals some people on the forum believe. Remember this is AFTER Shinji started the 4th impact in Q. The fact that some of the WILLE crew members speak of Shinji in this way, show they are capable of understanding. Most actually trust Misato and respect her judgement except for Midori, who questions Misato's capabilities in following through on her threats. 

Which brings me to my next point. Misato has had no hesitation in pulling rank in the past. In 2.0, she even has an altercation with Ritsuko, her best friend, right before they fight the 8th angel. Misato is a woman that will tell even her best friend to STFU, when it comes to doing what she wants. Having said that, (timeskip shenanigans aside) there's no reason why she couldn't have done the same with the younger WILLE crew members. She could have nipped all of it in the bud by telling Sakura, Midori and the rest of them that Shinji was groomed to cause NTI and it was not his fault.

Instead, despite being the captain that everyone loves and fears, she kowtowed to the crew's paranoia and had the pilots fitted with explosive chokers, put in explosively rigged solitary confinement and gave the order to kill Shinji if they feared the worst. This is the sort of thing that drives fully grown men to suicide, never mind 14 year olds that have just come out of a coma. Imagine if Shinji did commit suicide in his cell. Who would Misato and WILLE have turned to in order to defeat Gendo in the end? What if Gendo tricked WILLE into killing their own pilots with the explosives? They would be properly screwed then. If Misato actually cared, as we are led to believe from her hesitation to kill Shinji, then she would have told the rest of the WILLE crew to fuck off, instead of alienating and putting Shinji and the pilots in that much risk. Are we really expected to believe that Misato placed such extreme countermeasures on Shinji just to appease Midori and Sakura? Not likely. This is why I believe that Misato would not have put the DSS choker on Shinji in the first place, and her doing so in Q was extremely unrealistic and out of character, even with anything that happened during the timeskip.

Some of you will say: "Who cares about realism? It's a show about aliens and growing up." While this is true, Anno has proven that he is able to pull the themes off much better when you look at the NGE series. Disregarding the self-contained narrative, it is obvious that the purpose of Q was to bring Shinji to the same point he was at after episode 24 of the series. If we look at how NGE/EOE handled Shinji's depression, we see that it is quite realistic:

The neglect and coercion by the adults in his life, almost dying to angels multiple times, the sexual tension with Asuka, almost killing Touji, finding out Rei is a clone of his mother, Misato putting the moves on him and having to kill Kaworu all culminate towards Shinji's mental state during EOE. Shinji is passively suicidal but it's due to the *situation* and his own introverted tendencies instead of people actively trying to hurt and isolate him. He finds the will to live again due to his mothers words despite knowing just how difficult living might be. If you remove all the Evas and the Angels from the story, the themes that are touched upon (isolation, neglect, misunderstanding) still apply and the audience can still resonate with them. 

The rebuilds however go about it completely differently. They bring Shinji to that same suicidal state by having all the characters/plot actively harm Shinji's mental health by:

Putting him in a coma for 14 years so he is completely clueless. Imagine how groggy you are when you wake up in the morning and then multiply that by a million. 

Have Misato psychologically castrate Shinji by telling him he won't do anything with a look of disdain on her face.

Have Ritsuko make Shinji feel dread by telling him he has a bomb on his neck and it's because he is being "punished".

Not tell him why he is being punished when he asks Misato.

Have Asuka try to punch Shinji after he thought she was dead.

Tell Shinji the girl he saved is "gone”.

Have his "mother figure" threaten to blow his head off for wanting to leave with the girl you just told him is gone.

Have Asuka and Mari attack Shinji in Lilith's chamber even though Shinji was seemingly willing to listen to them had Asuka not kept attacking. (Watch that scene again and you'll see when Asuka learns what Shinji is trying to do, she stops attacking but instead of explaining that he's being manipulated, she just calls him a brat instead).

Even Mari was willing to potentially kill or cripple Shinji with the Anti-AT rounds. (We don't know what the AA rounds are truly capable of because the only time they are used on screen, they don't work. The round cartridges state that they are armor and AT field piercing and have explicit restrictions on their use. The fact that Mari requires Asuka's explicit authorization to use them imply that they are most likely lethal and would have killed/crippled Shinji had he been in a normal Eva). 

Have Shinji's friend's head explode with the device Shinji's "mother figure" actually meant for him. Imagine seeing someone's head explode and then remember that your "mother figure" actually meant that to be for you. That would certainly mess anyone up.

Have Asuka then kick and manhandle him when he is catatonic.

Have Asuka force feed him to the point where he pukes whilst he is still grieving the death of his friend. 

Have Shinji only be escorted whilst tied to a stretcher despite him coming voluntarily.

Have Misato place Shinji in 24/7 solitary confinement in a cell rigged with explosives.

Have Misato tell the WILLE crew to shoot Shinji on sight if they think he's getting into an EVA.

Have people tell Shinji that he's being a brat the entire time for reacting badly to all this.

By having Misato, Asuka, WILLE reject and "punish" Shinji so harshly so it kicks off his isolation and desperation, it makes Shinji's "recovery" seem less believable. Anno himself didn't even know how to make Shinji recover psychologically in 3.0+1.0 and he actually had to ask the voice actors on how to make that happen. The story made the WILLE crew go full scorched-earth and in doing so made Shinji's "growth" and his reconciliation with Misato seem impossible. 

I have already stated that I believe Q represents "Condemnation" and Shin represents "Compassion" and I think both films pull that off brilliantly. But that doesn't mean I think the characters acted in a realistic manner. I do not believe that Misato would have placed such harsh sanctions on Shinji in the first place for the reasons I have stated above. And if she did, I do not believe that Shinji would have easily forgiven Misato (even IF she took a bullet for him) as we see he does in the film. I do not believe that WILLE were merely "scared and desperate" because as the dialogue above shows, they are surprisingly understanding (but still disapproving) of Shinji's situation despite him literally starting another impact. I do not believe that Misato would have bent over to Sakura and Midori's resentment and taken measures against Shinji, just to ease their minds. 

In summary, my main problem with the post-timeskip rebuilds is that I feel they gaslight the audience in thinking that Shinji was just being a "brat" the entire time by having Asuka and Mari say: "You have grown a little/You smell like an adult now." However, the truth is Shinji's been through so much mental suffering perpetrated by the people he cares about, that it's a miracle he's not killed himself. It would certainly break most of us on this forum. The movies seek to show Shinji "finally" taking responsibility when the truth is, the plot went so above and beyond putting him down in such an extreme manner in the first place.

[isis-astarte-diana]

Milk and Honey: Day 2

Day 1 ‖ Day 2 ‖ Day 3

Summary: “I don’t need your pity. I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.” Wounds healing and ego bruised, Missy self-sabotages. You pick up the pieces the only way you know how.

Warnings: Possible bit of self-harming/OCD behaviour (obsessive cleaning and fingernail trauma, nothing too heavy). Missy does not handle vulnerability well and she gets nasty, but then she’s such a soft troubled baby that we all collectively pretend that it’s not problematic. Unhealthy relationship dynamics and angst. MIHOW.

Word Count: 3615

NB: Oops! It’s angst. Mostly hurt, bit of comfort. Stay tuned and hopefully the fluff will be back soon!

You wake up warm.

The bedside light is still on, its amber glow shaming the thin autumn sunlight that streams grey from the window. When you reach over to switch it off, something drags you back.

Missy has her arm flung across your stomach.

Beneath the duvet, her hand presses just above your navel. You can feel the weight of it when you breathe. Her fingers are splayed across your pyjama top, gripping the fabric tightly.

You stop dead still, half upright. Inexplicable panic floods your chest. "Missy?" You whisper into the pillow, hardly daring to turn your head and look at her.

"Hmm?"

For a single bloodcurdling moment, you think she must have woken; but then she hums again, squirming closer, her nose brushing the back of your neck. Any relief at realising that she’s still sleeping is lost when her arm tightens around your waist.

You think of staying there. With all of your free time spent travelling in the TARDIS, you can’t remember the last time you were held like this. She’s soft and warm behind you, her breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps prickling across the sensitive skin there. It would be so easy to wait for just a few minutes. Half an hour, maybe.

She would never do this on purpose.

The disgust hits you so hard that you flinch. To lie here, taking advantage of her unconscious embrace, enjoying the sweet comfort of an arm around you and peaceful breathing behind you - what would it make you? What would she think if she knew?

You tear yourself away too forcefully, fuelled by the self-loathing that burns in your throat. Missy groans softly in her sleep but doesn’t stir, burying her face in the pillow where your head had been resting. You tuck the duvet back around her, pointedly not looking at the inch of milk-pale skin on her side where the shirt she wears has ridden up.

She looks better already. The angry graze on her cheek is fading, and the long, deep cut down the side of her face is healed and red with new skin. You wonder how long it will take for them to disappear completely.

It’s clear that the sleep is working how she’d hoped, so you leave her there. The clock on the bedside table reads 9:47. Gathering your things, you head for the shower. As you close the bedroom door, she opens her eyes blearily and mumbles your name. You don’t hear it.

+++++

“How’s the patient?”

The Doctor leans against the kitchen counter, watching you make tea. His hands are thrust into his jacket pockets and there’s a careful aloofness to his voice that does very little to disguise his obvious concern.

“Fine.” It sounds clipped. “She ate. She slept. Still sleeping, last time I checked.” You glance at the time on the microwave; it’s after twelve. “For quite a while now.”

“That’s good.” He reaches past you, snatching a biscuit from the tin and biting it in half. He speaks through the crumbs. “We heal better when we’re asleep. Sometimes go into a coma for a few days, wake up ravenous and fully recovered.”

“She mentioned that.” You take both cups into the living room and he follows, carrying the biscuit tin, going back for another. The bag of Missy’s things is sitting in your space on the sofa and you move it to the floor. It’s a floral, Victorian-looking carpet bag, not particularly large but, you’re assured, bigger on the inside and full of everything she’ll need.

“So what else did you talk about?” He props his feet on the coffee table and you scowl. Looking suitably chagrined, he takes them down.

“Nothing, really." Taking a seat beside him, you feel oddly embarrassed, as if the prior evening’s events were a delicate secret that might wither under his scrutiny. “We watched some telly, and then we were both pretty tired so we went to bed.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you reach for your tea, and your face burns under them. Mercifully he doesn’t ask about the sleeping arrangements. “She didn’t try to kill you, then.”

“Not even once.”

“I was tempted.” Your head darts up at the sound of Missy’s voice in the doorway. She looks more like herself, her face the familiar mask of malicious indifference, the wounds there having healed even further since you woke this morning. The pink skin on her cheek is bisected by a blurry streak of red. She’s taken the braid out of her hair, leaving it to tumble in loose waves about her shoulders. “No tea for me, I take it.”

“You were sleeping.” The Doctor looks her up and down. “Nice pyjamas, by the way.”

“Aren’t they?” She gives a performative little twirl. She’s moving more easily than she did yesterday, coming to a halt with only the faintest wince. “I might move away from purple after all.”

“I brought the things you asked for. Well, most of them.” He gestures to the valise and she snatches it up, fixing him with a suspicious look.

“Most of them?” Her voice is thin.

“I’m not convinced that whalebone is suitable for a stab wound.”

“I’m not convinced that I asked your opinion.” She tears the bag open, reaching into its impossible depths, staring at the contents. “My shoes?”

“Ah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck, leaning forwards. “I didn’t think you’d be going anywhere just yet.”

“My sonic?” She spits it out through gritted teeth.

“The sonic stays on the TARDIS. I’m sorry.” He sounds anything but apologetic. “I can’t have you using it without my supervision.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, of course not.” She closes it slowly, snapping the fastenings with a flourish of her fingers. “Well, if there’s nothing else, Doctor-”

“Actually, I was going to ask-”

“If there’s nothing else, Doctor,” she repeats, speaking over him. He falls silent. “Then I’d better go and make myself decent. Do stop by another time.”

She slips back into the hallway and you hear a door slam. Beside you, the Doctor clears his throat.

“I’d best be going. Lecture on Quantum Chromodynamics this afternoon. Still need to pick out the perfect record for it.” He stands up heavily, thrusting two biscuits into his pocket for the road. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes are fixed on the door. “Of course. See you soon.”

+++++

“Had a nice chat, did you?”

The bathroom door is open. Missy stands at the sink with her back to you, the tap running full force into the open plughole. Over the sound of rushing water and gurgling pipes her voice is low.

“Yeah, it was okay.” You move closer, gesturing towards her with the steaming mug in your hands. “I made you some tea.” She ignores you. Her attention is fixed on something in the sink, her hands busy with it. You peer around the doorframe. She’s wearing a clean chemise and nothing else, her hair pinned up messily, the muscles in her bare arms tight and flexing with the sawing motion of her elbows. “What are you doing?”

Her stained corset from the previous day is crumpled awkwardly in the sink. The bloody laces are directed under the freezing tap as she scrubs at them with a nailbrush, turning the water the colour of rust where it runs down the drain. Her fingers are a furious shade of pink from the cold and the rough work.

“He didn’t bring me any presentable clothes,” she mutters, not looking up from her thankless task. “No corset, no jacket, no shoes. He’d have me walking around in a housecoat and stockinged feet like an invalid.” She snarls, scrubbing harder, catching her fingers with the bristles. There’s too much blood in the water for it to all be leeching from the fabric; the delicate skin around her fingernails is ragged. Heart in your throat, you set the mug aside and reach for the tap.

“Missy, your hands-”

She knocks your hand away and turns on you. He’s obviously brought her some makeup; the injuries on her face are concealed and her eyes are lined heavily with kohl, flecks of mascara clinging to her lashes, dark lips stretched tight around her bared teeth. It’s hard to believe that she’s the same person who’d slept beside you last night.

“I don’t need your pity,” she snaps, the words poison in her mouth. “I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.”

It stings. After yesterday you thought you were getting somewhere; that you might do better than to tolerate each other, and actually start to become something like friends. Swallowing angry tears that threaten to weaken your voice, you bite back.

“I’ll bear that in mind next time you can’t get undressed by yourself.”

You regret the words before you’ve even spoken them. You understand that she’s lashing out at you because she feels weak, but it smacks of bullying and you can’t bear to be a punching bag for her wounded pride. Something sharp flashes behind her eyes.

“Oh, I bet you had a good laugh about that, didn’t you?” Her fingers, wet and cold as the grave, wrap tightly around your wrist. “He must have loved it.”

Softening immediately, you backpedal, realising the source of her rage. “Missy, I didn’t tell the Doctor about-”

She isn’t listening. She twists your arm up behind your back with startling strength, forcing it so high that your shoulder screams in protest and your words die in your throat. You’re up against the sink before you can draw breath. The tap is still running, icy spray soaking the front of your clothes. You brace your other hand against the slick porcelain and look down at the bloody water.

“Look at me!” Her teeth snap inches from your ear. Lifting your eyes to meet hers in the mirror, your breath falters at the expression on her face. In all the time you’ve known her, you haven’t seen rage like this. “Who am I?”

“You’re the Master.” Mouth dry, your breath fogs the mirror.

“I was reducing whole civilisations to rubble before your species stuck a feather into a pile of ash and drew their first hieroglyph,” she snarls. The threat in her voice makes your hair stand on end. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“I will.” The words come out strained. There’s a band of vice-like pain where she holds your wrist, an aching tightness in the muscles of your back that isn’t lessening. “I will. I’m sorry.”

She steps away so suddenly that you crumple, gripping the sink for support. Your forehead hits the mirror. As you squeeze your eyes shut and catch your breath, you can’t see the look of horror that flashes over her face.

When you open your eyes again she’s gone from behind you. Down the hall, your bedroom door closes. You stare into the sink until it starts to overflow.

+++++

You’re elbow-deep in soapy water, washing yesterday’s dishes, when there are four tentative knocks against the doorframe. You swallow hard and try to ignore them.

“Need a hand?” Missy’s voice is soft and hesitant.

“I’m fine.”

She doesn’t respond for so long that you think she must have left. You’re rinsing the last mug - the octopus - when she speaks again. It makes you jump.

“I’m sorry.” She sounds so genuine that your eyes flutter closed, pain twisting in your chest. “I’m sorry for earlier. That was- not my proudest moment.”

It takes you a second to steady your voice. “I didn’t tell the Doctor. About last night. About any of it.” Steeling yourself, you glance over your shoulder at her. She’s standing so far away. “He doesn’t know.”

“But you do.” It takes you by surprise. You turn around to face her, leaning against the sink. Her expression is implacable. Tracks of mascara stain her pale face; she’s been crying. “You know.”

You cross your arms and look away. The sight of her is turning your resolve into dust. “I understand that you don’t want to be here, Missy, but I didn’t ask you to come. That was his idea.”

“Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re wrong. It wasn’t his idea.” She scrubs a hand over her face, further smudging her makeup. Her fingers are trembling. She’s wearing the long violet housecoat, unbuttoned, over her thin chemise. Standing barefoot in your kitchen with her hair piled up in loose twists she looks like a ghost. “I don’t know what I expected to-”

“You asked him to bring you here?” You push away from the sink, your voice rising as you step towards her. She flinches, touches the wound on her back, leans heavily against the doorframe. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like a criminal,” she snaps. Her words are tight with pain, and she bows at the hips to ease the strain on her back. “I’m a prisoner in the TARDIS as much as I am in the vault, but I thought that here I might be something else. Just for a few days.”

“I’m not keeping you here,” you snarl. “You can do whatever you like, as you took great pleasure in reminding me. You can leave whenever-”

“How can I?!” Looking up from the tiled floor, she fixes you with wild eyes. “How can I when he plays the warden and keeps my things from me on a whim? No clothes, no shoes, no sonic? Wherever I go the Doctor has my dignity under lock and key. What little sanctuary I find he takes, every time.”

“And you thought you’d take that out on me?” The trembling of your bottom lip betrays you. You bat at the mutinous tears in your eyes. “Put the stupid human in her place? Show me that you don’t-”

“That I don’t deserve your kindness.” She cuts you off, straightening up with obvious difficulty, her knuckles white on the door jamb. “Not so long ago I would have snapped you in half just to hear the sound it made. I have lived longer than you can fathom and done things that your language doesn’t have words for. I’m no stranger to regret, my dear.” The fury in her expression drains away and for a moment she looks as ancient as you know her to be. “So when I tell you that I am sorry for what I did to you, please understand what that means.”

Your throat tightens. She’s too easy to forgive like this, with her face lined with pain and her small frame quivering. She looks cold. The words sit heavy at the back of your tongue, ready to accept an apology whose sincerity you don’t doubt for a second. Swallowing them back, you murmur instead, “I think you need to sit down, Missy.”

She studies you with glassy eyes, breathing heavy. “Yes,” she whispers in the end. “Oh, yes. I think so.”

She slumps to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. You land on your knees beside her just in time to keep her head from striking the tiles.

+++++

Despite your efforts, you can’t lift Missy onto the sofa. She’s fully unconscious and the dead weight of her is too much for you to move alone. Instead, you do the next best thing; you tuck a pillow beneath her head and a blanket around her, covering her from shoulders to bare feet, and sit in the living room to watch her breathing.

As the afternoon drags on, you make a late lunch - stepping carefully over her body to reach the kitchen - and pick at it, hardly tearing your eyes away from her for long enough to look at the television. You make no effort to be quiet but she doesn’t stir save for the soft noises she makes in her sleep and the occasional shift in her position. Recalling the Doctor’s words, you choose not to wake her.

“We heal better when we’re asleep.”

You have a torturous amount of time to think while she lies there. Did she sleep in the vault? What about the TARDIS? And before she came here, when she was travelling alone? The Doctor had told you once that Time Lords could go months without it and then spend the best part of a week unconscious. When the light begins to fail and evening falls outside the window, with Missy yet to awaken, you wonder just how long ago “the desert, last time” really was.

Phone in hand, you type and delete the same message over and over for almost ten minutes. The wording escapes you. Some iterations of it are huge paragraphs, wrought with pleading explanations; some are terse and demanding. The final draft ends up being one of the latter, sent before you can second guess yourself.

Bring her sonic tomorrow.

The response comes almost immediately. You open it with trembling fingers.

No.

Incensed, you don’t wait this time. Your jaw clenches with impotent rage as you reply.

Bring it.

You toss your phone to the other end of the sofa, ignoring the answering buzz that sounds angrier than an inanimate object has any right to. As if in response, Missy jolts upright.

It shocks you when she draws a deep, painful-sounding breath, her head whipping around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Rising to your feet, you approach her slowly.

“Missy?”

She yelps at the sound of your voice, turning to look at you with wide eyes, reaching back to touch the healing injury when the sudden movement tugs at it. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths. The room is dim with autumn dusk, the overhead lights not switched on yet. In the gloom you can’t make out her expression; just those eyes, gleaming like a cat’s.

“It’s okay,” you say cautiously, showing her your palms in a gesture of surrender, trying to soothe her the only way you know how. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

“What happened?” She throws it out like an accusation but there’s too much fear in her voice for it to wound you.

“I don’t know, you just- dropped. I think you passed out. It’s been a few hours.” Conscious of looming over her while she’s like this, you sink carefully to your knees, a few feet away. “Are you alright?”

It knocks the wind out of you when she throws herself into your arms.

“I thought you’d gone.” Her voice is muffled, warm in the crook of your neck as she claws at the fabric on your back, pulling herself closer. Your hands come to rest either side of the small of her back in an attempt to avoid the wound there. “I thought- I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you manage, stunned, propping your chin up on her shoulder. She’s shaking. “It’s okay. I’m here. Did you- were you dreaming?”

A stunted nod. “I can still hear them,” she croaks. “The drums. Always the drums. Whenever I sleep. Whenever I’m alone, they just keep coming back-”

“You’re not alone.” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop it and she whimpers, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. “I’ve got you, Missy. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

+++++

Propped up on the sofa with pillows behind her, Missy takes her makeup off with a damp cloth. She hisses as it drags over the graze on her cheek and your fingers twitch at your sides in sympathy.

“You’re sure you want to sleep here tonight?” As you tidy the remains of your shared meal from the coffee table, you resist the urge to look back at her. She’s lying awkwardly across the cushions, still wearing the housecoat, the blanket from earlier thrown over her body. “I really don’t mind if you want to share the bed.”

“No,” she answers too quickly. “No, I think- I think this is best. It’s easier on my back.”

“Of course.” The lie is paper-thin. After the day’s events, though, you don’t want to push her. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

The microwave dings as you set the dishes on the counter, and you remove the steaming mug of hot milk. It’s been a long time since you’ve made this. You add twice as much honey as usual - she takes four sugars in her tea - and stir it in with the spices, turning the drink the colour of sand. It smells like home.

Missy looks at you questioningly when you set it on the coffee table in front of her.

“Milk and honey,” you explain weakly, rubbing your neck. “My mum’s recipe. She used to make it for me, when I had nightmares. It helps me sleep.”

Her keen eyes follow you as you switch on the standing lamp and turn off the main light, casting the room in a dim orange glow.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes.” She picks at a loose thread on the blanket without looking at it. Her face is unreadable. “Thank you. Sleep well.”

There are so many things you want to say. Come to bed, or I forgive you, or you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

As you slip out of the door, all you manage is a quiet, “you too.”

+++++

When the bedroom door creaks open you close your eyes and fall still. There’s a rush of cool air over your back as the duvet lifts at one side, and the mattress sinks behind you. Missy whispers your name. Smiling to yourself, you feign sleep.

[geekkatsblog]

Reviewing Grey's Anatomy Episodes but this time its Season 17

(To those people on my page who don't watch Grey's Anatomy but are being subjected to this I'm so sorry but I really just like to vent about this show.)

Its season 17 now Yay.

They're dealing with the covid 19 pandemic and I'm sure the writers probably did lots of research to make sure that they had the most accurate representation of the situation in the hospitals and otherwise.

___________________________________________

First we're going to start with the love triangle that is Teddy, Tom and Owen.

Owen

Now this is in no way excusing what he's done in the past for the longest while I've loathed Owen Hunt but..... now I feel sorry for him. He saw he had a problem he went to therapy to get himself right, he was actually a good partner for once and communicated in his relationship, he took his time and didn't jump into marriage spontaneously and then Teddy cheated on him over but dial to be heard by everyone in the operating theater with Owen on their wedding day. (I don't want to sound bad but this might also be karma coming to but him in the ass.) I felt so much 2nd hand embarrassment for him and the pain he had in his face the whole time he pretended not to know about her cheating was just oof. I loved though the end where he drove away for the mean time I really do agree with him taking some time and space before he makes a decision. Most of the times he made a lot of sudden decisions that later came back to bite him.

Teddy

Oh Teddy, she used to be one of my favorite characters from a little after she came to the time she left but now they just carried her character so far down hill that it's hard to keep the same energy I had before, now. Everyone at Grey Sloan is on Owen's side and giving her the cold shoulder and she really wants everyone to mind their own business (I honestly agree though, you're in the middle of a pandemic mind your business and do your job now isn't the time to be shunning coworkers because they cheated.) However when she did explain her side I kinda understood it a bit better. It's still an awful thing to do but I know plenty of people who sabotage their own happiness because they aren't used to it. Hell I do it myself sometimes. But then I was also pissed when she just pretended she did nothing wrong at first. First thing first she acted kinda offended when Owen explained why he hadn't called to cancel the wedding to her. Was it kinda sus? The answer is yes but you literally cheated on him that same day, you needed the extra time sis. Not to mention the several time he hinted to her that he knew and gave her the chance to confess yet she lied through her teeth whenever he hinted at it and flat out lied again when he asked if she had anything to confess. I get the whole sabotage route but God was I happy when Owen got in his truck, drove off and left her.

Tom

I was honestly rooting for Tom in the beginning, despite him being a douche I knew deep down he had a heart somewhere, but I actually started to feel less sorry for him last season when he continued to sleep with Teddy despite knowing her situation which he pointed out to her several times and she still ignored it. I know he loves her but let's be honest, she's going to pick Owen as long as he decides to actually take her back and Tom will be left alone and heart broken with his $100000 worth of boxes in booties and a golf club to measure 6 ft distance between him and everyone else. Honestly I kinda saw a panic attack coming, if they're treating Teddy bad then they're probably treating him even more like crap based on the fact that no one besides Teddy, Catherine and maybe Amelia liked him to begin with. This may also be an unpopular opinion but I actually agree with Catherine for making him resign of chief of all chiefs his head hasn't and probably won't be in the game for a while. At least he still gets to be head of neuro. He bought a whole $100000 dollars in booties alone by mistake during an already tough pandemic between that and everything else going on around him I'm not surprised he broke. What did surprise me was that no one even went near him to help even after the attack was finished. Dislike him or not at least ask him how he's doing geeze.

___________________________________________

Jo and Jackson (Never thought I'd have to put the two of them together in a title.)

Truly the biggest shock of the night besides the trailer for next week which I will freak out about later.

Jo

So Jo has decided that in order for her to feel herself again she has to do the devils tango with someone and because they're in a pandemic and she trusts him she chose Jackson. The night of the appointment to do the deed Jo ends up crying in his mouth. The way she treated him afterwards at first was a little uncalled for in my opinion, I mean she was the one who asked for the favor. But later they talked and it was all cool again. Jo didn't really have that big of a plot this episode so not too much to talk about.

Jackson

Agreed way to quickly to doing the devils tango with Jo if you ask me. Seems a little sus. I really hope they aren't rushing him and Jo into anything give the girl some room to breath and also give Jackson a proper plot he seems to be a plot filler for everyone right now like they have no real purpose for him on the show at the moment. I'm beginning to really think that he was the one who was supposed to die last season. I really do love his and Richard's relationship. Jackson never really had a good father and Webber seems to be filling that spot quite nicely. Him pushing Webber to fight to get better and convince him that his career can be saved was heartwarming. And can we take a moment to talk about Harriet finally appearing from the world of Narnia to bless us with her presence? And boy was she a blessing. That baby that plays Harriet was awesome from her repeating Vic saying she can't be a step mom all to her facial expressions. I hope to see baby Harriet again very soon. But speaking of Vic, did she not know that Jackson was a father? How the hell did she expect to never run into her at some point? Then there's the whole question of what did she even expect of the relationship with Jackson if she never intended to even try to accept being around his daughter? also if she really want to be Robbie Rotten from Lazy town and avoid being around kids, maybe she should call or text first instead of showing up in just a fluffy jacket and nothing else.

___________________________________________

Deluca

Glad to see he finally got the help he needed and is back put tho work. I felt so upset last season when everyone just treated him like crap without trying to help him, but they made up for it a little by trying to help him with the intervention. He was also right about the sex trafficking case and I was so glad to see that he was able to be there as her doctor. Plus he's now also finally in dark blue scrubs it has felt like forever before he got those but I digress. He is now on his way once again to be a kick ass surgeon with the awesome skills hes already showcasing. I just hope he continues to look after himself. Deluca shine like the star you are babe.

___________________________________________

Maggie

Has finally found a man who understands her, he is so nice and kind and caring the whole episode I was mentally yelling go get it hun to the screen. She deserves someone who can take her seriously and understand her awkwardness as well as her tendencies finally she has stepped out of the role of cheerleader and support character and is branching out to something else and I'm here for it. And her yelling at Catherine, to share her piece of mind. I was so proud. Go get it sis.

___________________________________________

Richard

Richard Webber is back in the building, finally the king has returned to himself and already solving problems in day one. At the beginning when he publicly called Catherine a pain in the ass I was so stoked I finally thought that he was done being pushed around by her but then he took her back in the end it also kinda felt like she bought him in order to get him back with the hiring him as the new chief of chiefs but I wish them the best of luck, Webber deserves to be happy. I was also happy to see him and Bailey interacting like friends again. For a while it was awkward between them but now it's like the balance has been restored. Side note, him laughing at Teddy and Owen made me laugh so loudly especially when he asked Teddy if her name was still Altman despite the fact he clearly knew about the phonecall drama, not gonna lie I'd do the same.

___________________________________________

Catherine

Not much there, just her being angry at the pandemic and loss of money, lack of power to save lives as well as trying to win Webber back which she successfully did after firing Koracick and giving Richard his job and finally giving him a heartfelt apology without being petty.

___________________________________________

Bailey

It might just be me but so far despite the fact that it's only been 2 episodes. Bailey seems somewhat better this season. Her guilt over Deluca was definitely warranted but at least she tried to make up for it (and just like Harriet her OCD has decided to rejoin us for a visit from Narnia.) For the past few seasons she's been a slight pain but now she seems more like herself.

Her and Ben are adorable as usual, coming every 12 hours to clap for the doctors just to see her then the cute hand signals they made for each other, between Ben, Link and recently added to the group of awesome partners Winston, I'm beginning to wonder where I can find me one of these super thoughtful understanding handsome men. The two guys that knocked her over as well spraining her ankle really should have to pay or something or at least apologize, they literally just knocked a doctor off her feet and made her wheel chair bound, the chief ro be exact. Her and Webber are on talking terms and well again but she really needs to know how to express concern better. She once told Ben that when she's scared she yells but a lot of things would have gone a lot more smoothly if she'd just reminded him he was a high risk for covid and state her concern for him to begin with instead of barking out orders.

I'm also wondering if shes going to be able to handle the whole Covid situation so well for the whole time, with all the chaos and disorganization with the whole ordeal not to mention the whole fit she had with the germs in the episode. I think it'll be a good storyline now that Grey's seems to be bringing mental awareness back up.

___________________________________________

Link and Amelia

They have now officially reached my list along with Ben and Bailey and a few others that are no longer on the show that have reached the stage of killing the couple goals on this show.

Despite the fact that they're not only raising their own baby but also Bailey, Ellis and Zola yet their relationship is still solid. I'm so proud of my baby Amelia she has come a long way from the woman who didn't even want kids to begin with.

I loved the fact that he wasn't upset over her forgetting his birthday and acted like nothing was wrong, just so she wouldn't feel bad about forgetting. I would have been livid set a reminder on your phone babes. Either way she definitely made up for it later with the whole redoing his birthday thing. Also welcome to the world Scout. Looking forward to seeing them more often.

___________________________________________

Levi

How did it all turn so bad, Nico has turned into such a jerk at this point I'm not even sure I'd be to upset if he left if it wasn't for the fact that I ship the person he was before and Levi so much I'm still hoping that they'll go back to how they were before Nico became a lying hypocrite. At the end I was practically begging Levi to push him away, Nico doesn't deserve it not after the way he treated him and he hasn't even shown a hint of remorse to this day.

___________________________________________

Meredith

The biggest shock of the whole episode. I honestly knew something was going to happen to her from the time she fell asleep and started the dream on the beach. Dreaming of beaches have never been a good sign on Grey's I just thought she was going to collapse from stress because she really had been pushing herself all episode. The thing with Meredith is that she cares so much for her patients and does anything she can to save them, but based on the preview of the next episode and the tests they showed it doesn't seem to be test. And let's just talk about that huge bombshell they dropped by bringing back Derek I never thought I'd see Patrick Dempsey on the show again. By the end of the episode I was already literally shaking in anticipation for the next episode. I know they can't kill Meredith, without her there literally is no Grey's Anatomy. That being said I really hope they don't give her cancer, (I know Patrick is involved with helping a charity for cancer.) And I also really hope she isn't getting alzheimers I just hope it's nothing serious in general. She's been through enough man. I just want this to be a really touching moment where I get to see Merder have some touching moments and it doesn't end up to be Izzie and Denny all over again. I don't think anyone is ready to handle that. I read in a spoiler that there's supposed to be some more visitors arriving on the beach and I'm stoked for it so I really hope it's a real spoiler I'm tired of rewatching the newer seasons to experience some of the old joy.

___________________________________________

Imma need them to give that intern Perez an official recurring contract for the show because he is currently one of the best things to come on that show in years. He's a breath of fresh air.

[danny-williams]

in sickness and in health

set immediately after s8.6, because i think Danny being worried about Steve’s health is literally the most married thing ever

1. change his diet

It doesn’t happen overnight. It doesn’t happen overnight because Danny knows that it can’t happen overnight - otherwise Steve will notice and all of his efforts into our sneaking the SuperSEAL will go to waste because he and Steve will fight, and Chloe made it very clear that he and Steve fighting was not good for Steve’s health.

Even if it significantly improved Danny’s mood everytime he got Steve riled up. His serotonin levels could take a hit for a bit (he’d just finagle more time with Charlie from Rachel).

It takes a lot of back and forth, and a promise to let Kamekona buy into their restaurant (currently un-named because he refused to have an italian joint named Steve’s) but Kamekona finally agrees to reduce the amount of butter he puts on his shrimp.

“But only for Steve’s plate bruddah,” he says, a frown on his face, “I’m not changing my recipe for anybody else. This is prime shrimp you’re messing with here - I hope you know that. This shrimp won me awards.”

Danny grimaces, “Technically, Chef Morimoto sabotaging your competition won you that award, but we’ll go with your version of things. As long as you keep this from Steve. I do not need him knowing that I’m messing with his food.”

“You got it bruddah.”

Everything else after that is slightly easier. Even with Junior home, Steve still comes over to Danny’s a lot - so Danny starts shopping smarter; buying low fat food and including more greens in his diet.

The jersey in him is crying, weeping for some good grease - the kind that slithers off the meat and onto your fingers, but he reminds himself it’s for a good cause. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t still eating good food - he’s just eating it less.

That’s not a terrible thing.

2. to do list 

He’s in his office, finishing up the last reports of the drug bust they made earlier that day - when there’s a sharp rap on his door. Danny looks up to see Steve standing on the other side, clutching a piece of paper in his hand.

He waves him in, and Steve slams the paper against his desk. “What are you, some sort of caveman? Did they not teach you how to politely put things down in the Army -”

“ - Navy - “

“Why do you gotta,” he gestures at the paper, “now my ink is all smudged.”

Steve ignores him, which is par for the course at this time, “What is this?”

Danny looks at the paper, and then back at Steve, “What do you mean, what is this? How should I know? You’re the one that brought it in.”

Steve points at the paper aggressively, “Look at it, and explain to me what it is.”

He smoothens out the paper, “It’s looks like a to-do list. Are you getting old babe? Do we need to take you to an eye specialist, maybe get you fitted for some glasses? Reading goggles?”

“Danny I don’t need -” Steve cuts himself off, and honestly, Danny is really enjoying how worked up Steve is about this whole thing, “I mean, what is it doing on my desk?”

Danny bites his lips, spreading his hands out wide, “I don’t know maybe you uhh, maybe you decided that you needed to make a list, make sure you know everything you had to do for today. Did you hit your head or something during our drug bust today? Maybe get a concussion - lose a couple of braincells?”

“I didn’t write this Danno,” Steve says in a frustrated tone, “Lou sure as hell didn’t write it, Tani’s too new to even think of pulling something like this - and we both know Jerry doesn’t have the balls for this kind of thing. That just leaves you. So I’m gonna ask you again, what is this doing on my desk?”

“Okay look, we’ve both been really busy with the restaurant right?”

“Steve’s.”

“No, not Steve’s because I’m still undecided on the name - but the point is, we’ve both been busy. So I thought you might you know, benefit from having a list of things that we had to do for it. So that you could plan your day better.”

Steve opens his mouth and shuts it again, furrowing his brows at Danny. 

“And that’s all this is? Making sure I keep up to date with the restaurant?”

“That’s all it is babe.”

“You’re up to something,” Steve grabs the paper, pointing a finger at Danny accusingly, “I don’t know what you’re up to - but you’re up to something.”

“Just making sure our restaurant doesn’t fail!” Danny calls after him, but waits until he’s out of sight to pull open his drawer and pull out the pile of unfinished to-do lists.

He’s going to have to be sneakier about them this time.

3. less bickering

Danny ponders over this one for a while, mainly because Steve expressly told him not to change. It would defeat the whole purpose of sneakily managing Steve’s stress if he notices, so Danny’s careful about it.

Mostly because after her day with Steve, Chloe pulled Danny aside and gave him enough of a scare to last him ten lifetimes.

“Look,” she’d said, “I don’t mean to tell you how to manage your relationship with your partner. From what I hear, you guys have been together for close to seven years, and I’m sure you worked out some sort of rhythm. But from what I can see Detective, you fight him on everything.”

“What do you mean I fight him on everything, I,I, I let him drive my car, I let him eat at my house, he even sleeps at my house on occasion - and what do I get for it? I get shot at and almost killed three times before lunch.”

“You guys don’t have an easy job, I agree. But I don’t imagine that for the Commander, someone who’s come from the Navy and is used to absolute obedience, that it’s easy when you question even his smallest actions.”

She had a point, which is Danny is now trying to figure out how to organically stop fighting with a man he literally punched just hours after they met.

“Okay here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve says, just as they pull up at the suspect’s house. They’re chasing the kidnapper of a twelve year old girl, so everybody’s a bit ramped up, especially Danny. He hates cases with kids. It makes it easier to take a backseat and give up control to Steve on this one.

“I’m going go through the front door,” he gestures with his hands, “Lou, Danny - I want you to get the back. Tani? I want you out here, in case our perp tries to make a run for it?”

Danny has to physically swallow back the words on the tip of his tongue, because asking Steve if they should wait for back-up would be questioning his actions - and Chloe said that was bad for his health.

Steve gives him a look, like he knows that’s something’s wrong - but before he can say anything there’s shot fired inside the house and everything goes to shit. 

Danny and Lou turn the corner as quick as possible, just in time to see someone run outside the back entrance and jump across the fence.

“Lou, get back to the truck, see if you can cut him off like that,” Steve jumps after him, panting into his ear-piece, “Danny?”

“Right behind you buddy,” he says, even as he aims and shoots at the two guys who wander out behind their perp, clearly looking for him, “our friend over here had company over.”

Thankfully, there doesn’t appear to be anyone else coming out of the house, and when Danny makes his way in - 12 year old Danielle Rodriguez is tied to the radiator, shivering despite the constant sweltering heat that is the fine island of Hawaii.

“Hey hey,” he swings his gun behind his back and lifts his hands up, “my name is Detective Danny Williams okay? I’m with Five-0. I’m one of the good guys. Now how about I get you out of this and back to your parents?”

Later, when they’re back at HQ and Danielle has been reunited with her teary-eyed parents - Lou mutters to Danny, “so how come you didn’t ask Steve to wait for back-up?”

“I’m trying something new.”

4. well bred social behaviour

“Danny!” The door swings open, even though Danny is fairly certain that he locked in, but he doesn’t reach for his gun, because there’s only one person on this entire island who walks into his house like they own it.

“In here!” he calls out, and sure enough, Steve walks in a couple seconds later with coffee and a brown bag.

“Are those malasadas?” he asks, reaching out for the coffee in one hand, looking up briefly from floor plans to ensure that there’s contact between his palm and the coffee cup, “Did you bring me malasadas?”

“No I bought myself malasadas, but since I’m generous I’ll give you one or two.”

“What’s this?” he asks over a mouthful of malasada, peering over his shoulder and Danny bats at him because he’s dripping sugar all over the plans, “Is this Steve’s?”

“For the last time, we’re not calling the restaurant Steve’s I don’t know how many times I have to go through this with you. But yes, to answer your question, these are the tentative plans that our interior decorator drew up for the restaurant.”

“Interior decorator?” his voice comes out all muffled, and Danny sends him a withering look, “You’re disgusting you know that? Can you finish chewing before you talk? Please? Is that too much to ask for?”

Steve swallows obnoxiously, and grins at Danny. He’s got cream on the edge of his mouth, and it should disgust Danny - instead he’s thinking about leaning up and licking it off.

“Thank you, for the coffee by the way,” he says instead, “I appreciate it. That was a nice thing to do.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve replies, and Danny can hear the surprise in his tone, but he resolutely ignores it - instead pulling Steve into a conversation about the booths.

5. sex

There’s probably a code of conduct somewhere, Danny muses, that involves something about not having your ex-girlfriend spy on your partner. Well, spying might be a bit extreme.

He and Melissa split months ago, because it was clear after two disasterdly Valentine’s Days, that it just wasn’t working between them. Her exact words were, and he quotes, “You’re never going to love me the way I love you. Not when Steve occupies all the real estate in your heart.”

She wasn’t wrong, was the thing, and after they’d gotten past the initial awkwardness that the fact that Danny was in love with someone that wasn’t her - they actually fell into a good friendship. 

It helped that Melissa didn’t know a lot of people in Oahu except Danny, and that their relationship had been a lot like a friendship in the first place. Except with more sex.

Like a lot more sex.

Honestly, given that Steve was the reason they broke up, Melissa was surprisingly gamely when Danny asked her to stay in touch with Lynn, and let him know how things were going with her and Steve.

(He thinks it’s pity, but he doesn’t actually ask because then she might actually answer)

“They broke up,” Melissa says with little fanfare, over their weekly coffee, “Lynn won’t tell me much. But they split about a week ago. Guess she got tired of waiting around for him too.”

It might also be the fact that Melissa is convinced that Steve is just as much in love with Danny as Danny is with him, nevermind the fact that Steve has never showed interest.

“What do you mean they broke up?”

“I mean they’re over. Ended things. Done.”

“Huh,” Danny says, over his coffee, trying to figure out the best way to convince Steve to let Danny take him out for a guy’s night to get over Lynn without revealing how he knows that Steve needs a guy’s night to get over Lynn.

In the end, he doesn’t even have to be all that sneaky about it, because Steve comes to him - asks him out for drinks; so all Danny really has to do is play the dutiful wingman.

“I’m sorry about you and Lynn,” he yells over the music, after the alcohol has sufficiently loosened his tongue, “you guys were good together.”

“It was never going to work out,” Steve yells back, and gives Danny a significant look, “bit like you and Melissa.”

“How do you - how do you know about that?”

“What you think that you and Melissa are the only ones who engage in pillow talk? Lynn talks too, on occasion. When we weren’t you know, busy with other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Danny chuckles, “Is that what we’re calling it now? You can say sex Steve. This must, must put a damper on your whole two or three days a week thing. Oh wait no sorry, how many days did you say it was? Five?”

“I’ll have you know,” Steve says, staggering on his feet as he and Danny stumble outside the bar, “that me and Lynn had a lot of problems. But sex wasn’t one of them.”

“Well -” he furrows his brows, and stops suddenly, pulling Danny close to him, “Sex might’ve been one of them.”

“What happened? You need tips in bed? Smooth dog?”

“I am very good in bed!” Steve says, affronted, “It was not my skill that was the issue here.”

“Then what was it? No come on don’t clamp up on me now, I have to hear this. What was the issue?”

Steve turns bright red, “I might’ve - I might’ve said the wrong name in bed, a couple of times.”

“Babe, you are unbeatable. No really, you are. First you, you leave the engagement ring that you were going to give Catherine just lying around - then you take off with Catherine in the middle of a romantic dinner, and now you’re yelling her name in bed? Buddy I’m surprised she didn’t break up with you sooner.”

Steve’s giving him this look, like he can’t for the life of him understand what Danny’s saying. “No it wasn’t Catherine why would you think it’s Catherine. No it was - “

And that’s about as far as Steve gets, because a second later, he’s retching their dinner all over the side of the road.

//

+ 1: love him

They’re all out on his lanai: Danny, Tani, Junior, Kamekona, even Duke’s made it out - and Steve’s got the grill set up just a couple feet away from the chairs. Half his attention is on the grill, the other half is on Danny - the way he’s stretched out on the old chair; loosened from the beer he’s been nursing, and smiling at something Tani said.

“Keep an eye on that meat,” Lou says, startling Steve, “I don’t want my dinner burning.”

“I’m not gonna burn your dinner Lou jeez, have a little faith. When have I ever burnt your dinner before?”

Lou looks over at Danny, and back at Steve with raised eyebrows, “you’re a bit distracted today. Forgive me if I’m cautious.”

“He thinks I don’t know what he’s doing,” Steve says in lieu of a response, “but I found his list the other day. All the things that stress management specialist said, Chloe or whatever her name is - he’s got it all written down. He’s driving himself crazy, worrying about this thing.”

“Have you ever stopped to consider why he’s so worried?”

Steve turns to Lou with a frown, “it’s not that hard to put together Lou. He’s worried about my health. I get it, I am too - but I’m not running myself into the ground thinking about it day and night.”

“Look man, I’ve been with you guys for a couple of years now, and let me tell you something about Danny. Now I’m not pointing fingers or any of that, but I’ve seen that man care about a lot of things - but nothing the way he cares about you Steve.”

Steve opens his mouth to reply, but Lou just holds up his hand, “you didn’t see him Steve. The day you got shot? The day you almost died? You didn’t see him that day.”

“Danny was - he had broken ribs, and scratches all over his face. They told him to land the plane in the water did he tell you that?”

Steve shakes his head silently.

“The people in Air Control or whatever you want to call them, they told Danny that his best chance at survival was landing the plane in the water, swimming to shore. But he knew that landing the plane in the water meant that you might die, and it wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. He didn’t even stick around long enough to watch you get taken in for surgery, he was already on his way out looking for the sons of bitches that shot you up.”

“And I’ve never seen anything like it Steve, I’m telling you - I didn’t know he was capable of that kind of violence. There was this one guy, their ring leader, who managed to limp his way over to the helicopter. When me and Kono got there, Danny was standing over him with his gun out, and he had this look on his face - I was worried if I stepped in, he might shoot him just to get to this guy.”

“And after all that was done, he marched right back into that hospital, barrelled right past all of us, and offered up his liver. There wasn’t even a second’s hesitation. Apparently he’d already had the blood-work drawn up, in case anything like this happened.”

Lou claps him on his shoulder, “I love you man, I do. But I don’t love you the way Danny does. I don’t think anybody does.”

“Would you -” he gestures at the steaks, “would you watch over the grill for me? Just for a bit. There’s something I gotta do.”

He doesn’t wait to hear Lou’s reply, just stalks over to Danny and grabs him by his elbow - hauling him up.

“Hey where are we - why’re we going inside, you Neanderthal I was in the middle of a conversation what’re you tugging me around for like I’m some sort of -”

The rest of Danny’s sentence gets lost against Steve’s lips, as Steve turns him around and braces him against the nearest vertical surface. His mouth is already open, which Steve uses to his advantage; pressing his full weight against Danny and licking into his mouth; memorising it with his tongue.

They break up with a wet sound, and when Steve opens his eyes, Danny’s pupils are blown black.

“What was that for?” Danny whispers between their lips, and Steve half smiles at him, “that was me saying thank you. I know what you’ve been doing, trying to manage my stress for me. This is me saying thank you.”

“Huh,” Danny slides a hand around his neck, squeezing, “Why don’t you run that thank you by me again one more time?”

Fin

[leafallsonelines]

Bizarre Love Triangle

I'm not sure what this could mean I don't think you're what you seem I do admit to myself, that if I hurt someone else Then I'll never see just what we're meant to be  -New Order

I didn't want to get into a relationship.

He wore me down and soon enough I was the one crazy about him. I always answer to the undefinably strong pull toward a certain person. I was soul weary and needed a break from emotional turmoil. When you meet somebody else, they're the main character of their own love story (just like I am in mine; as it should be). I'm privy to fact that we all have a history, especially when dating in your late 20's and 30's. I wasn't ready for our stories to collide.

I desperately wanted to avoid cluttering my life with someone else's relationship baggage when I haven't even taken care of mine. He campaigned hard for the relationship. I went for it.

Despite my better judgment I always cave—give in to that desire — anticipate and absorb the pain that inevitably follows.

I told you that story to tell you this one.

Back in 2014 the term Cool Girl ™ was coined to describe women who change their personality for male approval. (The shtick is contrived and annoying once you spot it.) She doesn't have a solid sense of self and basks in attention to fill. That void; hoards men like Thanksgiving hams and gets territorial when she's not The Girl. She gets kicks from seeing how uncomfortable she can make other girls by openly flirting with their boyfriends just to watch them squirm. This act is so played out most people have an eye roll ready for anyone flying the “I'm not like other girls” banner. (Gen Z now calls them Pick-Me-Girls ™.)

I crossed paths with one in 2018 — my boyfriend's best friend of sixteen years. A self-indulgent, selfish friendship. I wasn't initially jealous, didn't interrupt, and it came back to bite me; it was hideously unfair.

For storytelling purposes let's call her “Kate Luu.” Kate, an incestuous tigermom who gets jealous of any girl her son gets with, a petulant toddler that would rather break a toy than let someone else play with it. Probably has BPD. Definitely needs a good therapist.

Like a lot of dewy eyed girls newly in love I conveniently dismissed the red flags around my boyfriend and Kate. I had empathy for them because of my past platonic friendships with flirty undertones. Guys would respectfully fall back when they got into relationships or if I Was in one. I struggled with the slow withdrawal of warmth, missed the emotional intimacy, but recognized it as the right call and moved on. A lot of young adults exploring their sexuality go through this. As I got older I favored female friendships for being uncomplicated, preferring to avoid unwanted sexual tension.

Empathy without boundaries is self-destruction.

A couple weeks after celebrating our one year anniversary Kate texts me, “We need to talk.” Alarms immediately go off in my head. The last few months I had started bringing attention to the bad vibe I was getting and the inappropriate nature of the relationship. I got tired of biting my tongue. He didn't know how to process it or correct it. His lingering infatuation with her made it impossible for him to distance himself or enforce new boundaries. He started hiding it instead. I caught him being intentionally ambiguous about his plans when going to see her. He fumbled himself into an emotional affair.

Princess Diana famously described her marriage to Charles as “crowded.” It was an unmistakable reference to his affair with Camilla. Looking back the (justifiable) anxiety I had was from being crowded. Intuition is not insecurity.

I met Kate for coffee and she read aloud a pathetic five page letter telling me I'm a bad girlfriend and “full of shit.” She was intervening on his behalf as the person who knows what's best for my boyfriend.

“It's none of your business.”

But no, she has the authority to interfere as his best friend of  sixteen years  and I was a  one year  nothing. She brought up the fact he was attracted to her first, told me I'm spineless and ruining their friendship with my insecurity. (She _really _ran with the words spineless and insecure.)

Accusations are confessions when they come from a manipulative person. Textbook projection. She was mad her narcissistic supply was tapering off. (Gaslighting Pro-tip: Label rightful jealousy as insecurity.)

My boyfriend gave her personal, intimate details of my life during their oversharings and she used that information to bully me. Nothing was off the table, including my sexual history. I can see how she manipulated him, but it was inexcusable. People who enable They leave the door open for endless rows of inappropriate behavior. All of this was happening behind my back for a year. That kind of intimate toxicity are suckers for ego massages.

Don't you just love a story where the villain puts all the evidence of her misdeeds in one letter and unravels into epic, illogical rage all in one afternoon, in the space of two hours?

How did Kate have time to write five pages of false narratives designed to destroy a relationship she was jealous of? She doesn't have a job. She's a pampered dog mom living in her rich fiancé's house for free. A busybody performatively taking care of other people to avoid a mountain of personal issues. (An unevolved Virgo.)

Don't worry about what I'm doing. Worry about why you're worried about what I'm doing.

Kate has many noticeable traits as an obnoxious, self-important person — an absolute fake. She calls herself a _philanthropist _without having done anything philanthropic or even knowing how to use the word; she literally saw a big SAT word that means good person and attached Herself to it. (A word assigned to big charitable donors like Bill Gates, not bloggers). She has the same relationship with the word “unconventional” and thinks using a bigger word for unique or quirky makes her even more unique and quirky. Nope, still basic.) In place of possessing any actual humor she repeats memorized dad jokes and leans into corny, forced puns. If this isn't annoying enough she then insists she's funny. (Funny people just make you laugh. They never have to tell people they're funny. Barfs in, “I speak fluent sarcasm.”)

If I poked a finger through her shallow veneer I'd find loose dirt and dog shit.

And you know what? I'm not even against intense friend love. I get it. I groove to “One Love.” Emotional freedom is important. Expressions of love are multitudinous. It should transform to fit the situation. She didn't respect basic boundaries to make room for all of us to be comfortable. She was just mad she got demoted and tried to burn the whole thing down.

Kate wanted to be the main character in my boyfriend's love story without ever actually dating him. Oh yes, I know — the audacity, the toxic lack of boundaries, the mind numbing arrogance. She's not even protagonist material — a papier-mâché hipster who got her personality from an Urban Outfitters catalog and can't stop contradicting herself despite the fact she is working off a pre-written letter. I have never encountered someone who thought so highly of herself while having almost no substance. She calls herself a writer , but is just a pseudo-intellectual English major who posts aesthetic word salad on Instagram.

Later on I realized that if someone is mean to you unprovoked it's jealousy. One of the catalysts for the meetup was a heartfelt anniversary post I wrote on Instagram. It's not my usual style, but I felt gushy and really went full blown poetic and swoony She's jealous that her own, brought up love and Birth of Venus, blah blah blah. She mentioned my IG post and even admitted it was poetic and well written, but proceeded to use that as the jumping off point to invalidate the love in it. writing is try-hard drivel; a woman in her thirties mentally stuck in 2011 tumblr cringe.

If she truly wanted him she should have pursued him honestly and not wait to mess with another person. Hell, even just owning up to her feelings and saying, “I realize I may have lost my chance with you. Is there still anything in our sixteen year history that makes you want to give us a shot instead? ”à la My Best Friend's Wedding. Treading some moral gray area, but way more acceptable than actively sabotaging a relationship.

She didn't really want him though. She just wanted to continue their friendship in that inappropriate flirtationship space to feed her ego. After the coffee date she ended their friendship in an email. That really important sixteen year friendship became disposable to her once she wasn't able to control it.

Sometimes trash does the public service of loudly identifying itself as trash and takes itself out.

If you're a female best “friend” to a guy in a relationship and you need to flex on “I was here first” and “We did this before you were in the picture,” then you were never interested in seeing that friend thrive in a romantic relationship. You just get off on being his favorite unfulfilled option. If seeing him in love with someone new has you feeling that miserable you're just being selfish. Real love doesn't overstep in a new relationship so you can hog their spotlight. You're not even a friend; you're a skunk marking your territory and keeping him in the friendzone while not really wanting him to have a girlfriend.

You learn to love somebody in their love language and not just yours. Selfish love is not real love. That's just using someone to fill a place. Maybe a distraction. Seeking anything in return isn't real love because if you want that you actually don't have love to give; it's fake; it's toxic. If there's someone who isn't around anymore and you miss them consider the fact that you might just miss the place they held in your life. (You have the freedom to fill that space anyway you want.)

She realized she burned through all her goodwill thus the sudden ghosting and extracting herself. I never asked my partner to pick me or issued any ultimatums. Sometimes important questions stay unanswered. Sometimes you have to move on without the apology you deserve. There is grief in never receiving closure.

My partner finally saw my concerns validated in the aftermath. I bubbled with rage remembering excuses he made for her. Day in and day out I was drinking from an overflowing cup of righteous anger. So what was his role in this? Stupid or co- conspirator?

He was oblivious.

“I can't believe you could've left me for a wannabe influencer.”

I switched my phone wallpaper from his picture to a solid color. Looking at his face filled me with disgust. There's only so much letting go you can ask someone to do. I knew I still loved him, but anytime a woman is hurt she becomes less interested.

How do you recover from unknowingly letting a toxic bitch walk all over and jeopardize your relationship?

Friends told me to move on, date other people. He campaigned for the relationship again. We did the work of picking up the pieces and starting over. 

I'm not pretending to be perfect. I was reeling from back to back traumas. My soft spots turned hard and cynical. It was my turn to be the toxic one. I drove to work sobbing everyday for a month. I complained constantly. My default became anxious and suspicious. I'm so out of touch with the person I was before; she's a stupidly innocent, free-spirited stranger to me. It took time for the poison leach out.

It's a lot of baggage.

The couples who make it aren't always the ones that never had a reason to break up. They're the ones that decide their commitment to each other is more important than their mistakes. Fast forward to the herculean effort he made to earn back my trust and we're still very happily together. (This is published with his permission.)

Our relationship is more grounded in reality now. It's not crowded anymore. Somethings more precious from having almost been lost. Somethings will never be the same. I'm the villain in her story, just as much as she's the villain in mine. We get to live out our own endings and there is peace in that.

Hurtful, painful, memories. Memories of deep regrets, memories of hurting and being hurt. Memories of being abandoned. Only those with such memories buried in their hearts can become stronger, more passionate, and emotionally flexible. Only those can obtain happiness. So Don't forget any of it. Remember it all and overcome it. If you don't overcome it, you'll always be a kid whose soul never grows.  -The Boy Who Fed On Nightmares

[greengargouille]

After a good night of sleep, a reread and access to a readmore, here are some thoughts on the mol update:

-I’m glad the fight didn’t stay too long on the angel and demons, while it’s interesting to see what kind of forms demons can have, it’s just too late in the story to get invested on a whole bunch of new creatures or the danger they pose.

-Zorian almost being petty on Xvim admiring the angels’ barrier, some things never change :’)

-I like that for a moment, Zorian isn’t sure he will be able to use his ‘secret plan’. We know he will, of course; this is not the kind of story where the protagonist ultimately fail. Also Domagoj mentioned on his patreon/wordpress he considered doing a sequel centered on Zorian and Zach, which kinda imply those two survive. But it would feel too... convenient if everything went smoothly. Of course there are going to be moments were he is not sure at all his plan will work.

-Oganj being able to pass through the divine barrier is what really sold me on how impressively dangerous of a threat he is. It’s one thing to be a menace able to make a whole continent shake, but angels felt like a cut above that.

- “After a few seconds, he noticed that everyone except Zach was staring at him strangely.” I thought this would be the set-up for another ‘Zorian forgot what an average mind mage can do’, instead it turns into a moment of reminiscence on how the people we all came to know and love died in the loop. Which is excellent heartcrushing. Well played.

-Zorian’s actions being described as only being ‘a drop in the bucket’ felt a bit... surprising? I expected him to be more of an influence. It makes sense, of course, but after being used to stories where the protagonist become overpowered, it feel unexpected. Not in a bad way through.

-Can I just say that I love that we still have small moments of Zorian thinking his original self would be horrified and that he’s numb of all those atrocities he let happen to spare his mana? Too often stories brush off the mental impact those kind of fights can have on someone. I hope the epilogue will touch on this a bit more.

-An army of pigeons (and cats) to the rescue. Oh man that was hilarious. As always it makes sense because their existence was talked about multiple times, but still. How can you not laugh at the idea of cultists going their way in an intense moment to be stopped by pigeons. It also makes for a small contribution from Raynie and Haslush, which is great. Secondary characters having a role in the finale is great.

-If it weren’t for them surely being made with souls, potion monsters feels like something Zorian would invest in researching once the situation have settled. It feels like something not mana-intensive, and with a bit of mind magic to control them it would be devastating.

-Silverlake trying to get a rise out of Zorian by asking about his sexuality shows she is quite good at finding the touchy points of people, but it does makes me wonder if something happened within the loop for her to think this could potentially work. But also, she formulate the whole choice as merely a personal, selfish one (trying to save one person he is invested in instead of all the potential ones he could have helped with sabotaging the invasion from the inside), which is... quite Silverlake-y. She can’t fathom someone choosing something outside of their own interests.

[Unrelated to the update, but I did wonder some times how common would sapphic relationships be in a witch coven, what’s with them putting men aside. Surely a witch who decided to get a male partner solely for procreation, then abandoning him to go and raise her daughter with another witch must have happened at some point? If Silverlake was aware of such things happening then it would be more likely she would come up with such a question to bait Zorian] -Holy heck, Silverlake and Red Robe being full of primordial essence. It feels so obvious, but it did procure a rush of “how the heck are they going to stop them all from releasing the primordial now”. Same when Silverlake’s regeneration abilities were shown. What a fearsome adversary.

-At last, the grey hunter! It had to come up at some point, and what better prey than the one that trained it against traps. But old Silverlake appearing? It was something I would not be sure would happen. Oh, what a joyful moment, having her own selfishness and paranoia come to bite her back :’D

-The soulseizer chrysanthemum was something I saw some people predict, and it made all too much sense for it to be used. Good luck to Quatach-Ichl to find another live one to train himself to resist against it.

-Speaking of Quatach-Ichl. He might not have the crown anymore, but he have connexions, lot of power, and he is used to long-term thinking. Now that they’re back on linear time, Zorian and Zach are going to have a very troublesome enemy to think about.

-Oganj the powerful dragon mage getting both the imperial crown and orb, while we have no idea if he survives the angel going after him. He is totally not going to be a problem later on the road. (Well, best case scenario, our favorite lich will try to get his crown back and they end up fighting each other. Worst case scenario, however, is an unlikely alliance between the two. How, man, I’m glad the story is ending because I would not have been able to wait on how that would come back).

-Aaand here is the town wide web area of sigils coming up. Most people had guessed it would be used against Zach, some people did thought it would be used on Jornak, but not on both at the same time.

---

-Gosh, the Zach’s pov chapter. It’s all I wanted from such a chapter at least a canon chapter. It... did feel a little off-putting at first because I felt like... overall voice?... of it would have a different... I dunno, something more... Zach? Not that I had any expectations on how it should have gone- I wasn’t even sure we would get his point of view in the first place.

-Him slowly giving up on ever getting out before Zorian came up in the equation, gosh that’s the kind of content I craved. I wouldn’t mind a whole chapter of this. And ah, him finding Zorian a bit scary is pretty great *stare in the distance at this fic idea that refuse to write itself*

-I hadn’t thought on how, if Zach hadn’t been through that many loops, the two would definitely had more conflicts on the way to do things. An interesting thing to think about.

-Zach isn’t just a dumb brute and I do like that this end up being Red Robe’s fatal mistake. It’s easy to fall back into this error while writing, so I appreciate that Domagoj did play on it; it’s hard writing a character being impulsive and failing to think through on a lot of things, without them coming up as completely stupid, and still making it look consistent as a whole.

-Zach is ‘just a little bit jealous’ of Zorian beating Quatach-Ichl, while Zorian himself wanted earlier to be petty and defensive of his own abilities compared to a angel barrier. Those guys, I swear.

-The diagnosis spell Zach used necessitate contact. Interesting, when a lot of divination magic shown in the story haven’t required it, or even any chant for that matter. Is it for dramatic purpose, or is it specific to divination related to healing? Or is it just ‘the closer the subject of the divination is the better the result, so of course physical contact is going to give the best answer’?

-”And Zach... felt happy. He felt disgust with himself for it, but he really did. [...] He was free, and all it cost him was the life of his best friend.” This. This is the kind of angst I live for. What a perfect conclusion to this chapter.

--- -I half-expected a Zach’s pov chapter, but a Jornak one? Now that’s unexpected, but it answers questions I did not know how to formulate- I always wanted more details on how they ended up becoming more friendly, or how Jornak did manage to get into the loop. (I... actually still want more details even after reading the chapter, but I feel like it’s one of those case where the author would rather leave it at that and let the readers make their own suppositions).

-This chapter also is good for characterisation purpose- Jornak truly believes in what he’s doing, but also show a fair amount of how his life was pretty bad and how he feels the whole world is unfair towards him- which doesn’t make him likeable, but interesting as a character.

-The grey hunter have its belly full of primordial energy after slurping Silverlake, which totally won’t be a problem later on. At least this one the cultists will have a tough time finding it for sacrifice purpose. (Though I do wonder, if the primordial essence itself is linked to the contract? It was only the souls of Silverlake and Jornak, wasn’t it? It would be way too convenient if the primordial essence disappeared after the month is over)

-Zorian making him relieve the supposed after fight over and over till he gets all his secrets. What an horrifying moment. I love it.

--

-I’m pretty sure I read the theory somewhere the soulseizer chrysanthemum would be used for bypassing mind-blank? It’s been a while since I read discussions on previous chapters. I like the explanation on the whole mind-soul-body link. It’s pretty much like cutting your computer from internet to avoid piracy, but forgetting to put an higher password on said computer when you leave your desk unattended.

-It’s reassuring to know the manifold resonance spell can only be used a few times on the same person. One thought I had on post-story problem is, would Zorian’s ability to bypass mind blank forever put a gap in his relationship with Zach, as the latter is probably still very touchy about anything to do with his memories even after his contract ended? What about anyone who learns of it? Having it being limited on uses solves (at least partially) that problem.

-Kiri’s doll is mentioned, which I totally forgot but would be sad if it did not reappear! And ah, of course, the famous trick of replacing the mini-golem with another while pretending it was just a repair. Since Kirielle is probably going to study magic (if she doesn’t go the witch path instead), I wonder if she will end up specialising in golem-making.

-If the grey hunter goes into the Dungeon and makes it its territory, is there a risk the monsters there get chased to the upper layers? Would the araneas be enough against them? Would they get into the city? What an hilariously horrible conclusion. “Oh yeah we saved the city of the invasion, but with all the monsters coming up it’s impossible to repair it, we have no choice but to abandon it”. Unlikely even if creatures did appear, as it’s just the biggest mana hole of the continent, but it’s fun to think about.

-Not only did Zorian maintained two illusionary worlds, he did so while having an hivemind, and after a long and hard fight in which he also had to redirect an enormous amount of mana into an angel summoning cube. That, plus connecting with various people all over whenever Zach tried to verify their minds. No wonder he is tired.

-It’s probably not a good idea to stay in town, and I’m not sure where that secluded and secure space is, but I bet that’s not where Zorian will wake up next chapter. Not sure in which condition are Ismaya’s house or the Noveda’s estate, but it’s probably safer out of town... Cirin, maybe. Have Zorian wake up in his bedroom and have a small heart attack thinking the loop started again.

-...I hope out of the Damien-Xvim-Alanic trio, one of them at least take the time to wait for Zach’s wake up, or leave something for him to explain the situation. Through all the contingencies Jornak prepared are way more important, so it could be possible to overlook that. Can you imagine how Zach will feel suddenly waking up in a strange room, with your best friend your mourned being unconscious but alive, and a weird pile of goo on the side. Is this an illusion. Was your previous memory an illusion. How can you be sure.

-...What’s with the orb being out of Koth now, and the Taramatula estate having gained portals to move between continents, will Daimen visits his family more now? That’s great news! ...I guess. For Fortov at least, who is sorely needing some training. If he’s still alive. Who knows. Maybe the epilogue will tell us.

[doctornolonger]

I’ve always thought that the natural endpoint of the Doctor/Master relationship is for the Master to repent and take up the Doctor’s name and promise, and it’s kinda frustrating to me how close we got to that in series 10. Here’s the outline of the fanfic I’ll never write: my dream continuation of the Moffat era.

The Monk trilogy ends differently, so Missy’s redemption arc is accelerated and by the finale Missy is much more solidly on Team Good. In the finale and Christmas special, Capaldi gets his wish to go back and meet Susan, with some flashbacks to David Bradley’s First Doctor but without any Simm Master. The adventure goes wrong, and the Twelfth Doctor’s uncertainty about his new regeneration cycle comes back to bite him: he’s apparently out, defeated in part by his own generosity to Davros in the series 9 opener.

But as we saw in Extremis, anyone who makes the Doctor’s promise can be the Doctor. As Twelve dies in Missy’s arms, she promises her oldest friend that she’ll continue his mission throughout space and time.

Except this time, she will have witness and reward: Bill and Nardole are staying in the TARDIS. In a dark mirror of the Twelfth Doctor’s arc from series 8, the brusque Gomez Doctor spends series 11 in a struggle with her insecurities about whether she can be good. Meanwhile, Bill and Nardole undergo a significantly harsher version of the “Can we trust this person like we used to?” conflict we saw with Rose and Clara. (This is balanced out by the TARDIS’ immediate acceptance of Missy as her new pilot.) Over the course of the series, the companions guide Missy in the right direction until she’s in the groove of being the Doctor rather than the Master.

This series 11 ends with the Simm Master’s return in a twisted version of World Enough and Time. The spotlight is on how this tests Missy’s resolve, but she ultimately chooses to do the right thing, sacrificing herself for the others even as she’s killed by her past self. Bill still gets her happy ending with Heather, but not before finally calling Missy “the Doctor”. (The Graham/Ryan granddad dynamic on amphetamines.)

Series 12 is a soft reboot like series 5 or the real series 11. The new incarnation finds new companions, goes solely by “the Doctor”, and nails the role and responsibilities that entails. For all intents and purposes, this is just another incarnation of that original Time Lord we watched for fifty years, although there might be some references to their criminal past. This can last for as many series as wanted or needed, maybe even across multiple new incarnations. Let’s just say we pick up again with series 16.

Series 16 starts with an awkward multi-Doctor Christmas special, in which the Doctor is forced to explain their past to their companions. This is the first time the Master backstory has been explicitly spelled out since back in series 11. As the series begins, we see a return to the cavalier having-fun-with-history attitude 10 and Rose exhibited in episodes like Tooth and Claw. Mostly It’s just Doctor Who as usual. But it becomes apparent that this Doctor is making … mistakes.

Throughout our real-world 2018, the audience has shown itself to be very aware of the Doctor’s ethical choices. How many posts have I seen about the Thirteenth Doctor’s apparent inconsistency in demanding the spiders starve to death rather than receiving a mercy-killing? In condemning T’zim-Sha to years of torture at the same time she admonishes against killing? In upholding the broken system in Kerblam? And it’s not like this is just a Chibnall thing, as some have supposed: just look at the years-long discourse over whether Eleven was justified to order the genocide of the Silence in Day of the Moon. This was an explicit point in A Town Called Mercy.

My series 16 would play with this dynamic. There are a consistent number of instances where the Doctor just makes the wrong choice, whether it’s insisting on unnecessary cruelty or suffering, or solving a superficial issue but apparently intentionally shrugging at systemic problems. Several episodes would span a serialized story exploring multiple interconnected plotlines in one non-Earth setting – maybe an alien companion’s homeworld? – and this ends in the Doctor making a miscalculated ends-justifies-the-means style decision that results in more harm than good. The series concludes with the companion(s) rejecting the Doctor and quitting the TARDIS a la Clara in Kill the Moon or Ace in Love and War.

Which brings us to series 17, the last of my arc. The Doctor evidently has been traveling alone for a while and learned nothing from the rebuke at the end of S16. While adventuring with a new companion, however, a mysterious figure seems to be sabotaging the Doctor’s questionable plans – but sabotaging them for the better, to do more good or avoid negative consequences. Sure the midseries finale, we discover that the Twelfth Doctor did regenerate all those series ago, and this Thirteenth Doctor is coming out of retirement to stop the Master from doing further harm. (This vaguely resembles Lawrence Miles’ original plans for the character of Sabbath.)

The two old friends, now mentor and mentee, spend the rest of the series in a struggle that ends with ??? the Master eschewing good intentions and returning to being the Doctor’s enemy? the two making peace and parting ways? the Master dying? one of the two retiring and forgetting about this whole arc? the two re-combining into the Other? The answer would probably depend on the fan and critical reaction to the big switch-up. I might just pick that moment to leave it to another showrunner. But the idea has potential, dammit!

[campcampistrash]

How Long It Takes To Make A Family

*walks in 15 minutes late with starbucks* whats up im here with a 10k fic and it’s full of crap who’s ready

Summary:  Five times Max told David to go away, and one time he asked him to stay. Alternatively: Max and David’s relationship throughout the years.

AO3 link

for the dadvid big bang event hosted by @dadvidappreciationweek

1.

Max’s parents first sent him to Camp Campbell when he was six, and the only reason they waited that long was because that was the youngest age the camp accepted.

During the school year, Max was cheerfully labelled as the “latchkey kid,” the only kid in his grade who carried around a house key clipped to his backpack because neither of his parents were home when he was and he had to unlock the door himself. Usually he was only alone for an hour or two; not long enough for any outsider to get the idea of neglect in their head.

Some days, his parents didn’t come home on time. Whenever that happened Max was forced to skip dinner and go to bed himself, and in the morning he’d get lectured on how he left all the lights in the house on and that he left the TV remote in the couch cushions and really, he’s already four five six years old, shouldn’t he have learned all this by now?

His parents didn’t work the weekends, but as distant as they were they might as well have.

Before most of his time was taken up by school Max was enrolled in daycare. He got dropped off at 6:30 AM and picked up at 8 PM; the first kid in and the last kid out. His parents hated the price. They’d jokingly talk about how they couldn’t wait for the day when he was old enough to take care of himself, about how annoying it was to wake up half-an-hour early just to drop him off, like he wasn’t even there. They never seemed to know that he was there, not unless he was getting blamed for something.

Six was the age where he was old enough to (supposedly) take care of himself for a couple hours at a time, but young enough to still be a worry for any longer than that. Summer vacation was awaited with dread at his household, where where his parents would have to pay for constant childcare.

Luckily, Camp Campbell was cheap, and Max would be out of the house entirely for two and a half months. It was, as far as they were concerned, the perfect option, and on the sheet where they were filling out his information they wrote “making friends” as the camp they wanted him in. They thought that he was shy, anti-social, and had difficulty connecting with people, because that’s how he always appeared to them.

Max had friends. It wasn’t hard for him to go up and start talking to people he didn’t know. His parents just had no idea who he was.

So the boy who first arrived at Camp Campbell was loud, social, and had the vague idea that he was never going to be the most important thing in his parents’ life, though he couldn’t voice that thought if asked.

He was also, objectively, an annoying little shit.

On the first day of camp, he arrived on the bus with all the other children. He was the youngest one there, unsurprisingly. What was supposed to happen after that was head to the dining hall for orientation, led by the two counselors.

Max didn’t even make it that far.

He looked around at the rundown buildings set in the middle of the woods, far from any real civilization and anyone he knew, and thought to himself, I don’t want to be here.

Without any hesitation, he broke away from the group and walked toward the lake he could see in the distance. He hadn’t ever seen one before; it’d be nice to mess around on the shore with no one bothering him.

Max took five steps before a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him in the air.

“Whoa there, partner! We’re not visiting the lake yet!” someone yelled at him. “We need to get through the or-i-en-tation first!”

They said the word orientation like Max wouldn’t know what it meant. He didn’t know what it meant, but he was offended nonetheless. So he shoved an elbow back as hard as he could and hit their face.

The person screamed and dropped Max. He landed on his hands and knees, scrambled up and tried to run, but his shirt collar was grabbed again, and he wasn’t stupid enough to try and choke himself to get away.

“Let me go!” he yelled, flailing his arms.

“No can do, kiddo, we gotta get to the dining hall pronto, and here at Camp Campbell we believe in the words no camper left behind.”

Max clenched his fists to his side and raised his head to see whatever overgrown chirpy squirrel caught him. It was a man with startlingly red hair and a smile about as bright and real as an LED light. Max immediately started to hate him.

“I don’t wanna go there,” he said. The man looked as remorseful as someone could while toting around a discount grin.

“Hey now,” he told Max apologetically, “later we’ll all get to go to the lake together! Think about how much funner it’s going to be with all your friends!”

Max crossed his arms and angrily mumbled, “They’re not my friends.”

“Well, they will be soon!”

And with that, Max was dragged to the dining hall to meet his doom.

—

His doom came in the name of David. He decided that he hated David more than anyone at the camp.

There was also another counselor named Gwen, but Max didn’t mind her so much. She seemed as irritated with David’s happy-go-lucky attitude as he was. She was cool.

The thing about David, though, was that he was fake; his cheerful, unrelenting demeanor, his excitement for literally every activity—it just couldn’t be real. Max refused to believe it. He was six, and while he knew that was plenty old enough, everyone always assumed that was “too young” for most anything, and yet despite him being “too young” he still knew that David’s attitude was—to put in words he would soon know—complete and utter bullshit.

So on that first day, as David was excitedly yelling at them all about how much fun they’re going to have and how they’re all such great friends already, Max swore to himself that he was going to make David crumble.

All he had to do was make as much a nuisance of himself as possible until David’s facade cracked, and everyone could see how fake he was. It was the perfect, foolproof plan, and Max was sure that it would work in the way it hadn’t with his parents.

(At home, he’d taken to acting out—throwing food, neglecting schoolwork, yelling at anyone and everything—and his parents only noticed long enough to send him to his room.

It would, he hoped, work better at camp.)

When the time came for Max to introduce himself in front of everyone, he simply crossed his arms and said, “No.”

The other kids in the room weren’t paying attention, having already introduced themselves, but Max didn’t care about them. He was staring directly at David to show that he meant war.

David took it in exactly the wrong way.

“Aw, are you too shy?” he cooed, clasping his hands together. “That’s perfectly fine! How about you come over here so you can whisper your name in my ear, and I can introduce you to everyone instead!”

Max gritted his teeth, stomped his foot, and yelled, “No!”

David frowned in thought. It only took a moment for him to decide what the “real” problem was, because he soon brightened up again and said, “Oh, don’t worry, I know I look really tall but I’m not actually scary at all! I promise I don’t bite! But if you want to go to Gwen instead...”

Gwen slapped her face and groaned.

“Jesus, David,” she said, “he’s not scared, he’s just trying to be difficult.”

The camp man scrunched his eyebrows together, confused and not knowing how to handle the situation. Max felt vindicated. Clearly his plan was going to work easier than he thought.

“I... guess I can just get the attendance sheet?” David proposed. “He’s the last one to introduce! It shouldn’t be hard to find him on there.”

Max’s good mood dropped. He stared in betrayed shock as David procured a clipboard, skimming through the two pages until he found what he was looking for.

“Alright, everyone,” David said, “our last camper to be introduced today is...” He paused, waiting for something. “Iiiiiiiiiissssss...”

Gwen rolled her eyes and started doing a drumroll on her thigh.

“MAX! Say hi to Max, kids!”

The other kids, none of whom Max paid any attention to when they introduced themselves, didn’t react. They stared ahead in a bored daze, waiting for something interesting to happen. Max could relate.

He didn’t really have anything against these other people, he decided. Just David.

When they were being lead around the camp, Max pushed down the tents. David’s eye twitched, but he only said, “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”

When they were doing their first camp activity, Max took the string they were using for friendship bracelets and cocooned someone in a coffin of thread. David got out a pair of scissors and complimented him on his quick learning.

When they were learning to pitch tents—none of the kids were happy with Max at that point, since it was his fault they had to learn in the first place—he managed to destroy three of them before David got the hint that the small child should probably not be trusted. David dug through the attic and procured two extra tents, one of them large enough to house four students instead of two. He made Max help him set them up, and stopped Max when he tried to sabotage them again, saying, “Oh, no, it goes like this, Max.”

And he did all that with a large, radiant smile. There was rarely a hint of frustration or impatience with Max. He didn’t even seem to know that Max was purposefully trying to mess everything up.

That revelation—that maybe David just needed to figure out that Max was being terrible on purpose—came to him on the third day, as Max was leaning over the side of a canoe, trying to get in the water. David had a strong grip on his shirt collar (his yellow shirt, the camp shirt he was forced to wear) so it wasn’t going well.

“Max,” David said patiently, “it’s canoe time, not swim time! Swim time isn’t until week two!”

Max glared at him. He was forced to be paired with one of the adults because he was the youngest- the other kids were lucky enough to get away with little to no supervision. And Gwen, luckiest of them all, got to chill on the beach with a pair of sunglasses and a trashy book.

David thought that Max was just a confused six-year-old. That was a problem.

Max leaned back into his seat, and David let go with a relieved sigh, thinking he got his point across. Instead, Max grabbed the sides of the canoe, and staring blankly at David, started rocking it, back and forth.

David gulped nervously and said, “Now, Max, I know this may seem fun, but it’s actually very dangerous because you might tip the boat over. So that means you should stop.”

Max doubled his efforts. He was willing to sacrifice himself if he could take David down with him.

“Ha, wow, okay, that’s exactly what you shouldn’t do, how about we just-”

And David grabbed him. Again. His plan was foiled.

He was set right in front of the man like one would set down a heavy bag of groceries- a little roughly and with much relief. Then came the lecture.

Max didn’t listen to any of it. He only fumed at lost opportunities. But when David made a particularly large gesture with his hands, setting him slightly off balance in his seat, Max realized he could do something else.

So with all his strength, he shoved David off of the canoe.

David toppled off with a yelp and landed in the water with a large splash, getting Max wet. He surfaced quickly and sputtered “MAX!” very indignantly.

Max, naturally, pointed a finger at him and started laughing. Loudly.

The canoeing lesson was cut short for the day. When David surfaced from the lake, he looked like a sad cat that got too curious about a bathtub and was inevitably disappointed. Gwen pulled him away from the group; Max was too far to hear what they said, but he was so satisfied with his results he didn’t care, even though it looked like a very heated conversation.

When they came to some sort of agreement—an agreement only on Gwen’s part, if the unsatisfied look on David’s face was any indication—she pushed him away and called for everyone to follow her back to the dining hall. Max moved to go with them, but was stopped by an arm across his chest.

He looked up, and there was David, in all his downtrodden waterlogged glory. He rolled his eyes. There was, inevitably, going to be some lecture on how to be the best camper, or canoe safety, or how he should talk about his homesickness instead of acting on it, or whatever.

“Max,” David said softly. He mentally prepared himself for the barrage of useless information he was going to get.

“It has come to my attention that. You, uh. Have been acting... a little out of hand.”

Yeah, Max thought bitterly, and he had to have Gwen point it out to him, since David was so determined to act all cheerful and pretend nothing bad was going on.

“So Gwen and I, together, in a conversation where we mutually agreed-” what was David even saying, seriously, “-decided that you are going to be heavily restricted in the activities you are allowed to participate in, and for the activities you are allowed to be involved in you will need either me or Gwen to partner up with you.”

Max stared at him blankly. He didn’t understand most of what David said, partially because he didn’t really know what “mutually agreed” or “restricted” meant, partially because David’s voice lost most emotion, as if he was just repeating what he was told to, like a robot.

“And,” David finished, “you won’t be allowed anywhere near the forest or the lake from now on. You’ll have to stay with the Quartermaster those days.”

Now that Max understood.

Tears pricked in his eyes and his face scrunched up, and he remembered the first day he was here, when he just wanted to go home and be alone, where he didn’t have to learn anything new with adults he had no idea what to do with, when he looked in the distance and saw the lake and wanted to sit by it and look at the water because he’d never done that before.

David put a hand on his shoulder- to comfort him, to lead him away, he didn’t know, but he shook it off and bolted down the beach, his face was wet and he was sad devastated angry that David would take this away from him. Max knew he deserved his punishment; he all but asked for it, really. But he assumed it would get him some half-hearted reprimand and a push to do more activities to avoid bothering the adults. Get sent to stay in his tent for a day, at worst.

Max stopped running when his legs got too wobbly, and he fell ungracefully on his butt. He panted and he felt kind of dizzy but at least he was sitting next to the lake looking at the sunset. Alone.

Just like he wanted.

They probably wouldn’t let him go back there again.

The sand shifted behind him. Max sniffled and roughly rubbed his sleeve against his face.

“Go away,” he said.

David ignored him and crouched. He put a hand on his shoulder. David always did that; Max wondered what he thought a stupid little shoulder pat was going to do. Comfort him? Get him to like him? Stupid.

“We need to go back with the others,” David said.

“Go away,” Max told him.

“I can’t leave you here alone, Max,” David said.

Max brought his knees to his chest and shoved his face in them. The hand started rubbing his back. It was like David was trying to bribe him with affection, or something. Stupid.

“Go away,” Max whispered, and he didn’t even know if David heard that time.

They stayed until the sun went down.

2.

Another summer, and Max is, for the third time in a row, sent to Camp Campbell to get out of his parents’ faces. He was becoming a sort of unwilling expert on the place.

He looked out the window of the bus with the affectation of a forty year old man getting sent to prison for the rest of his life and regretting the people he’s left behind and the actions he took to get there. What could he have done different, he wondered. He didn’t know.

The bus stopped, and the Quartermaster grunted something as he opened the door. Max was the first one off because he learned that sitting at the back of the bus only gets you the worst tent.

(Return campers were allowed to skip the orientation and go straight to settling in- so far, that was only Max and two other kids, and the two other kids tended to stick together and get the best tent for themselves. Max was determined to beat them that year.)

Among other things he learned was this:

-The food is not to be trusted, as with anything else the Quartermaster was involved in. -David and Gwen take turns checking in on the campers after the scheduled bedtime, and Gwen tends to try and finish it as fast as possible, which means that she’ll look at a pile of pillows under a blanket and think it’s a kid. Those were the best nights to sneak out. -The two other kids that returned to camp every year were named Meredith and Rajeev and they were pretty cool. Usually. Depending on the day. -Despite all common sense, David really was that fucking happy. All the time. Sometimes, his temper would get the best of him and he’d lash out, but overall he just smiled. And smiled.

It took two years for Max to realise that, no, it wasn’t some stupid, overblown act. No matter how hard he tried, there was no forcing David to shed his cheerful mask and show the world what kind of person he really was, because it wasn’t a mask. Sometimes he’d lose his temper, but he always bounced back quickly since apparently a positive attitude means so much to him.

So, because of that, Max had no idea what he was going to do that year.

The past years were dedicated to trying to get David to admit that he was a hack and he actually hated children. Now that he knows the truth, that there is no secret to reveal, what was the point anymore? Was it really worth it to make David’s life hell, if it would amount to nothing?

(That was another thing Max had learned at camp: Swear Words. Gwen never bothered to police her language around children, much to David’s consternation, and it didn’t take long for Max to have as much a mouth as her.)

Max speed walked towards the tent area. He’d have ran, but he knew for a fact that Meredith would refuse to act like she made any effort to do things, and Rajeev wouldn’t go on by himself. Getting the tent he wanted was a cinch.

He set his suitcase underneath the cot and grabbed the whiteboard on top, then wrote “MAX’S TENT- YOU FUCKERS BETTER LEAVE ME ALONE” and hung it outside. Meredith and Rajeev were just arriving, and when they saw him, they groaned.

“Dude,” Rajeev said.

“Whatever,” Meredith said, flipping her hair. It barely reached past her ears so it wasn’t particularly effective. “That tent is, like, old news anyway.”

“Last year you said that this was the best tent and everyone else was missing out,” Max told her.

“Pff,” said Meredith. “They’re all the same. It doesn’t even matter.”

“Okay, Meredith,” Max said.

“Actually,” she said, “I’m going by Mer now. It’s a nickname. Meredith is lame.”

“Mare?”

“No, Mer.”

“It won’t last,” Max predicted.

Meredith ignored him and went to the tent right next to his. Rajeev paused, waved at Max, and followed.

And with that, he would finally get peace and quiet for the next two hours it took for David to get through his in depth tour of the camp with the newbies. Ah, yes, he thought, the best time of the summer, nothing can make this go wrong, he can just lay down, relax, and-

“Max!” David yelled in the distance.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Max said.

He turned around and sure enough, there was David, running toward him with a smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Meredith and Rajeev exit their tent with a small whiteboard. The moment they saw David, they looked at each other and quietly went back inside, making the wise decision to hang up their sign later.

David slowed to a stop, panting, still wearing a huge grin.

“Glad I caught you, Max!” he said. “Come on, I left Gwen to handle things for the moment, but, well, she always skips the part about the forest ecosystem so-”

“Wait,” Max said, “you are not taking me back to the or-i-entation.”

David frowned and put his fists on his hips. “Well, I can’t leave you here.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You let me stay here last year. I already went through the whole welcome schtick.”

“Last year you ate all the candy you smuggled in at once and got sick,” David said.

Max crossed his arms. “I’m not that person anymore. I’ve grown. And wait- why aren’t you bringing Meredith and Rajeev too?”

From inside their tent, Meredith yelled, “It’s Mer now!”

“They’re twelve,” David answered. “I trust that they won’t immediately eat all of their illegally brought candy.”

“This is so unfair.”

David ignored him and, rightfully guessing that Max would never go with him willingly, picked him up and tucked him under his arm like a football. Max stubbornly kept his arms crossed.

He wondered how he ever assumed that there would be no reason to torture David. It’d clearly been too long since he last saw him.

For the next two hours, Max sat through pure agony. He had to listen to David talk about all the different kinds of trees at Camp Campbell, and how you shouldn’t go into the forest alone because there are bears, no this is not a joke there are literally bears please don’t go in there by yourself.

Stupid. Boring. Max would make him pay.

The next two weeks passed by predictably: Max did what he always did—that is, exist in apathy until he was forced to do a camp activity, which he would then attempt to ruin—and David did what he always did—try to act as if everything was fine and everyone was happy.

But one day, as Max was drinking his morning coffee, his routine was interrupted.

His arm was grabbed, he dropped his mug, and he opened his mouth to scream, until he heard David’s voice.

“Let’s go, Max!” he said. “Don’t want to be late for camp today!”

Max decided to scream twice as loud.

David winced and covered his ear with his free hand.

“Max, please-”

“Let go of me!” he yelled, scratching at David’s arm and trying to yank his own away. “I’m not going to learn about the environment! You can’t make me!”

“No, it’s-”

“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

“Max-”

“You made me drop my coffee!”

“Max!”

Max stopped and looked up at David. He was frowning, rubbing his head, and he seemed very tired.

“It’s your camp activity day, Max,” David said. “Gwen is taking the others for a hike, and we are going to the dining hall.”

“Why?” Max asked suspiciously. “What’s my camp this year? ‘Meditation?’ ‘Pray the humanity away?’ ‘Mind control your child into being the perfect robot?’”

“Well, first off, I think you need to spend a little less time with Gwen. Second, you’ll find out when we get there.”

Max grumbled, but stopped resisting. He’d run if David let go of his arm, but generally, his camps tended to finish quickly, due to his parents writing literally whatever they wanted on the camp form. Last year he only had to balance a textbook on his head for five minutes.

It will be over with soon, Max reassured himself. And if it took too long, he’d find a way to get out of it.

They reached the dining hall, and David only paused long enough to shut the doors and lock them.

Shit, Max thought.

David sit him down at one of the tables and walked to the other side. From underneath the bench, he pulled out a backpack, unzipped it, and overturned the contents in front of them.

Out tumbled three skeins of yarn and two pairs of knitting needles.

Shit, Max thought.

“Knitting can be a bit difficult, so I’ll start off the row for you,” David said. “Then, once you get the hang of it, I’ll show you how to start new rows-”

“No,” Max said.

“It’s easy once you figure it out!” David pleaded- actually pleaded, with his palms together in front of his chest and eyes teary for effect. “Well,” he amended, “there’s always new techniques to learn, and knitting itself can be difficult to master, so I’m not sure if it can be called easy, but I promise you it’s fun!”

“No, listen,” Max said, “I don’t care how you paint it. I am not knitting. It’s- it’s stupid.”

“You call everything stupid,” David pointed out.

“That’s because everything is stupid and there’s no good in the world,” Max said.

“Max, please,” he said. “Just try it? For ten minutes, at the very least.”

Max hesitated, grumbled, stared at the table and kicked his feet and grudgingly said, “Fine.”

David beamed at him and picked up a pair of knitting needles. “First, you have to hold the needles like this,” he grabbed Max’s hands and closed them around the needles, adjusting until his grip was right, “and you take the yarn with your- are you right handed? Take it with your left hand, wrap it around like this-”

And he patiently walked Max through the process, and whenever Max lost his temper and tried throwing the needles he’d grab them out of his hands and wait until he was ready to start again. When Max was able to get a rhythm going—able to reach the end of the row and start a new one with relative ease, though it was a little slow going—David picked up his own knitting needles and started silently knitting along.

An hour and a half later, Max was jolted out of his reverie when the rest of the camp returned from their hike, a conglomeration of loud footsteps dampened by dirt and conversation and the clang of keychains on backpacks. He looked down at his hands, where the start of a scarf rested on the table. It was bunched up and there were some parts where he lost a stitch or held the yarn too loosely, but it was there.

“What?” he asked incredulously.

The noise from outside got louder, and Max realized that they were coming in for lunch. He threw his scarf at David with a panicked scream and scrambled off the bench to run for the cafeteria, where the Quartermaster was already setting out food. The door thumped as someone tried to open it, and Max abruptly remembered that David locked it when they came in.

“I’ll be there in a sec!” David yelled, stuffing all the knitting items back in the bag. The door continued to thump, and the people outside started yelling angrily. By the time it was opened and everyone started rushing in, Max was standing in line to get food, inspecting his fingernails, no funny business here, no siree.

“Ugh,” Rajeev said from behind him, “why’d you get to skip the hike? Gwen just kept on pointing out trees. She just pointed at them and said ‘and that’s a tree.’ I don’t think she knows anything about nature.”

“Did you want to learn about nature?”

“No, but that’s not the point.”

Max rolled his eyes as Rajeev complained about the quality of care they were given.

At least, he thought, he’d never have to knit again.

—

It was late, and Max couldn’t sleep, which was par for the course. Lucky for him, it was a Tuesday- Gwen was supposed to be the one checking to make sure the campers were sleeping.

So he took all his pillows, shoved them under his blanket, and walked off to the lake.

He always liked the lake. It was overgrown with algae so it had a green tinge and almost no fish, but the waves still lapped on the shore and against the dock and the sand was soft and warm. Max liked to lay down and stare at the sky, even though it was a pain to get the sand out of his hair later.

This far away from town, the stars were numerous and bright. Sometimes David tried to teach them about constellations; Max tried not to pay attention, but after a couple years, he knew how to pick out a few anyway.

The Big Dipper was easy. The Little Dipper was dimmer, but he could find it too. Leo looked more like a mouse than a lion. Cassiopeia was just a w. The North Star, Orion’s Belt—it was soothing to list them, and Max could feel himself nodding off, listening to the waves and digging his fingers into the sand-

A branch snapped.

Max darted up.

“Max?”

Emerging from the trees was David, who seemed to have made a habit of spontaneously appearing exactly when Max didn’t want him to.

“There you are,” he said, relieved. “I got worried when I couldn’t find you in your tent! Remember, Max, curfew is at nine- you can’t go wandering around this late.”

Max rolled his eyes and slumped back against the sand.

“Max?” David said, cautiously stepping closer. “Max, we need to get back to the tents.”

“Uuuuuuugggghh,” Max said. Above him, David stopped and placed his hands on his hips.

“Now, Max, I know that I cut you some slack every now and then, but I can’t just leave you here! So get up, get moving, and let’s go to bed!”

He groaned again but started to stand. Very slowly. David tapped his foot impatiently. Max moved slower.

Getting back to his tent was a hassle with his refusal to walk at a reasonable pace, but eventually they reached their destination, and they both stopped.

“You can go now,” Max said after waiting to see if David would leave on his own.

“Ah,” David responded. “Well, actually, before I leave-”

Max sighed. Loudly.

“Go away, David,” he said. “I don’t want you here. Leave me alone.”

David hesitated, but apparently came to a decision, saying a hasty, “Goodnight,” before skittering off to bed.

He unzipped the flap to his tent and walked inside. It was almost exactly how he left it, except for the blanket that was flipped down to reveal his fairly large pillow collection. Max returned them to their usual places in his bed, and crouched down to get his Gameboy Advance SP from its hiding place under the mattress, ready to hunker down for a sleepless night.

Instead, he encountered a bag.

Curiously, Max pulled it out. It wasn’t his, and he didn’t know how it got there. He unzipped it and peeked inside.

The first thing he saw was a shitty looking scarf.

It was bunched up too tight in some places, loose enough to see holes in others, made out of blue and purple yarn and still with knitting needles sticking out the end.

This was the scarf he was making earlier. David must have left it, along with all the other yarn.

Max picked it out and sat of his bed, telling himself that it was only because he had nothing else to do, he didn’t really want to knit, it was just better than playing that Spongebob game for the millionth time.

In the morning, David found him asleep, knitting needles still in hand.

3.

“This way’s the kitchen, over there’s the dining table—not enough space for a full on dining room, but you know what, with just the two of us that shouldn’t matter—down that hallway is the bathroom and office and upstairs-”

David continued yammering as he showed Max around, and Max heard none of it. He shifted the duffel bag higher up on his shoulder. The house smelled sterile; David probably wiped everything down for Max’s arrival.

They walked upstairs, Max running his hand over the railing, David talking about the fluting on the wood or something. There was a door at the end of the hallway. They stopped in front of it.

Max reached out for the doorknob, vaguely recognizing that it was supposed to be where he would sleep, when he caught the last of David’s speech.

“-and I’m sure you’ll be happy here!”

Max slammed the door in his face.

—

The last summer, he’d been sent to Camp Campbell as usual. It was, at the time, the best summer so far.

Nurf and Ered had both aged out by that point—he’d maybe kinda missed Ered a little, if only because she was the one constant at camp besides the adults, but it was a bit of a relief to not have to always watch his back on his designated bullying days. But, at twelve, he was the second oldest kid, and he had Neil and Nikki, and Preston and Harrison were still there, and there was a new kid named Audrey who was seven and thought Max was the coolest kid ever.

David and Gwen were, as always, counselors. He didn’t even mind; Max wouldn’t admit this to anyone but he kind of started to like them. Not hate them. He didn’t go out of his way to try and annoy them, at least, and as far as he was concerned they were a vast improvement to his own parents.

He actually looked forward to staying at Camp Campbell. It started to feel more like home than his actual house did.

Then the summer ended, and they had to go home.

As it happened every year, all the other kids got picked up first. David, used to this, invited Max inside the counselor’s cabin for a late lunch. They talked, got along, didn’t fight or get angry, Max might have smiled once- and even though he knew it was going to end soon he still couldn’t help but feel a little happy to be there.

But they sat, and waited, and it was only after the Quartermaster told them that he was leaving and they both needed to get a life that they might have thought something was wrong.

David called Max’s mom. Then he called Max’s dad. Then he called both of their workplaces, and after they both said that they were gone for the day he called their personal phones again.

No answer.

Max drank his hot chocolate silently.

Two weeks later, a few different conversations with the police, and an exchange of papers led him to his current predicament, which was that his parents were charged with child neglect and David offered to foster him.

For the time being.

That was the part that stuck in Max’s mind.

He wasn’t unhappy with how he lived before. Maybe when he was younger he wanted his parents’ attention, or love, whatever, but he knew how to take care of himself and he didn’t even care about them anymore. He started to care about school, he had friends, and every summer he went back to Camp Campbell, which wasn’t the worst place to be. He got used to being lonely when his parents left for days on end, got used to being hungry when they misjudged the amount of food he needed and had to deal with school lunches. It wasn’t a bad situation.

Max didn’t know what to expect from David.

He didn’t know what his room looked like, though he had been there for at least five minutes. He spent that time flopped face-first on his bed. The sheets smelled like flowers, and were about as soft.

When he felt like he could handle it, he pushed himself up.

The room was fairly small, with yellow walls and a large window opposite the door. There were curtains, but they were so thin and translucent that light shined through anyway, making the atmosphere needlessly cheery. Across from the bed sat a wood desk, complete with a lamp and a chair.

Max looked down. The bed sheets were floral. The carpet was a dark beige. His suitcase stood innocuously next to the door.

This was a guest room. Max couldn’t fathom changing it to something that was his.

“I can foster him for the time being,” he heard David say in his head.

This room would probably stay the guest room even after he left.

Max walked over to his suitcase and unzipped the front pocket to pull out his 3DS. He sat against the door, and lost three Pokemon battles before he realized that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate anytime soon.

He dropped his hands. His DS thumped softly on the carpet.

Why couldn’t his parents just have remembered him that one time?

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think. His brain was swirling around the words for the time being, he was stuck in a guest room and his parents couldn’t even remember their child existed until it got them in jail.

Max put away his DS. From another pocket, he pulled out yarn and needles.

He’d gotten better at knitting over the years. It was calming and it took his mind off things enough for him to relax. He was in a sweater mood at the moment, even though it wouldn’t be cold enough to wear them for a while.

He knitted. His head grew hazy. The trick with sweaters is that you had to make them a bit larger than they had to be, since they shrank in the wash. Once he made socks for Audrey, the kid who kept following around last summer. She thought the size of the socks were ridiculous and laughed for an unnecessarily long time. He kind of missed her.

The yarn was a gradient green, going from light to dark to light again. Green was nice. Max liked the color green more than he used to.

There were still thoughts niggling on the back of his mind. They went away when he trashed the green yarn and went with blue.

Just blue, no purple. Purple probably wouldn’t have helped either.

A few hours passed, and Max jumped when the door thudded on his back.

“Dinner, Max,” David said after he finished knocking. Max didn’t move. Eventually, David left.

He silently put the yarn away, stood up, and opened the door. His bare feet were silent on the polished wood floor of the hallway, and he stayed close to the wall when going down the stairs in case one of them was prone to creaking. David was sitting at the kitchen table, quietly eating macaroni and cheese. Across from him was another bowl.

Max hesitated. His parents had rarely cooked dinner for him, especially since they realized that he learned how to cook himself. He couldn’t get used to this. He wasn’t going to be with David forever.

Yet he still walked over and sat in the chair. David seemed happy to see him.

This wasn’t going to last, Max had to remind himself.

David greeted him happily, asked how he was feeling, backtracked and started talking about trees when he realized that was a loaded question.

This wasn’t going to last.

When Max finished his macaroni, David asked if he wanted more.

It couldn’t last.

“So,” David said awkwardly once he refilled their bowls. “We actually have to talk about something.”

Max stabbed his noodles.

“When do you want to start school?” David asked.

Max aggressively chewed his food, not deigning him with an answer.

“You could start next week,” David said, “which, since it’s Friday, is pretty soon from now, but if you need more time to get used to-”

“Next week is fine,” Max said. It was the first thing he said all day.

“Alright, sounds good,” David said.

They finished their food. David put the dishes in the sink. Max stood to walk back to the guest room.

“Goodnight,” David said.

This would not last, Max told himself as he was falling asleep that night.

—

School was... fine.

It was a new school, so none of his friends were there, but the other kids were fine enough. He made acquaintances. The teacher never called on him to answer. Max wondered if David told her about his “situation.”

Every day, after school, David was home. He’d be playing guitar, or baking cookies, or watching TV, or reading- whatever it was, he’d stop and welcome Max home and ask him about his day. After a month, Max asked him if he had a job. David told him that he did, and he was lucky enough that it matched with Max’s school hours.

In November, Max went up to his room after school, ignoring David’s usual, “Hey Max! How was your day?” to collapse on his bed. The walls were still yellow, the floor was still beige, but the sheets were changed to Batman covers and there were a few posters taped tackily on the walls. His suitcase was under the bed, its contents unpacked.

It didn’t look too much like a guest bedroom anymore. He hadn’t even been there for three months. It should’ve scared him, how comfortable he’d gotten.

The other day, David said something with the words, “when you graduate high school.”  Max didn’t hear the rest of what he said; David thought he’d be there for years. Maybe he expected Max to move out after he graduated, but it kind of made him hope.

Maybe, Max told himself nearly three months after living there, this wasn’t as temporary as he thought.

The next day, he went to school. Some kids asked him if he wanted to play wall ball with them at recess. He said sure.

David got him a phone so he could text Neil and Nikki. The walls in his room were painted blue, almost the same shade as his old hoodie. Whenever he thought too much about his parents, he could pull out whatever knitting project he had on hand and work on it until David called him for dinner.

Maybe this could last, Max told himself.

One day, in December, Max came home from school. He threw his backpack on the couch and paused.

David hadn’t greeted him.

Max very carefully did not react. He walked to the kitchen, getting a glass of water when he saw that David wasn’t there. He looked in the office, pretending he lost a paper even when it was empty. There was no one in the bathroom.

He walked upstairs, and after seeing that David wasn’t there either, decided that he actually wanted to work on his homework instead of hanging out in the guest room and went back to where he left his backpack.

Apparently, David wasn’t home.

That was fine. This was fine. Max was used to arriving to an empty house. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care.

He shouldn’t have gotten used to this, Max told himself, it was stupid to assume David would always be there.

“I can foster him for the time being,” he heard for the first time in a while. He tried to bury himself in math homework. David would usually help him if he had trouble.

This wouldn’t have been able to last, he told himself.

Max was in the middle of his english homework when he heard the door to the backyard open. David stepped inside, covered in dirt, and brightened with a grin when he saw Max sitting on the couch.

“Oh, hey Max!” he said. “I didn’t realize you were home! I guess I lost track of time- gardening can be so hypnotizing, you know? But hey, got all the winter plants taken care of! They’ll probably start sprouting soon enough, and man, I can’t wait for them to bloom-”

Max stood up without a word and walked away, leaving his things behind.

“Max?” David said worriedly, as if just now figuring out that something might have been wrong. “Are you alright? Did something happen at school today?”

Max stomped up the stairs. He slammed his door. David didn’t follow.

A couple hours later, halfway through a yellow scarf, there was a knock on the door.

“Dinner’s done,” David said.

Max didn’t answer. David knocked again.

“Are you coming?” he asked. Max stayed silent. David didn’t leave.

“Do you need to talk about something?” he said. “Remember, I’m here for-”

“Go away,” Max told him.

“If it’s something I did, then-”

“Go away!” he yelled.

For a moment, there was silence. Then footsteps going toward the stairs. Max picked up his knitting needles again.

He shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable, he told himself, he shouldn’t have been so stupid.

The yellow scarf, when he was done, was nearly as bad as his first.

4.

Max’s door opened, and in walked in David. Max screeched.

“Go away!” he yelled, scrambling off his bed to rush toward David.

“I just wanted to ask-”

“No!” Max tried shoving David out the door. At fourteen, he was nearly to David’s shoulder, though scrawnier than ever. David was probably letting himself get hustled out.

“Okay, Max, have fu-”

The door slammed in his face.

“You didn’t have to be that mean,” Nikki said. She coughed into her elbow. According to her, David’s house in general was better than most urban civilizations, but she still got a cold whenever she left her cabin in the woods, where she lived with her dad.

“Listen, Nikki,” Max said, “I am being very nice by letting you design me a- a goddamn fursona.” He said the words like a curse. “I am not letting Dad see what we’re doing in here.”

Nikki smirked evilly. Max eyed her.

“What?” he said suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Nikki sang, and went back to her sketchbook. She was drawing a very fluffy black cat wearing a blue hoodie. It was sitting next to an anxious owl and a wolf, which looked like it wanted to eat them both.

They were both silent.

“Okay, seriously, what?” Max asked. “What are you hiding? And fuck you no version of me is that fluffy.”

“Nothing,” Nikki insisted, drawing the cat fluffier just to spite him. “But, uh, if you could ask your dad if he could make cookies that’d be cool.” She drew out the word “dad” mockingly. Max made a face at her.

“David is not my dad,” he insisted.

“Alright,” Nikki said unconvincingly.

“He’s not.”

“Okay.”

“He’s stupid and I hate him.”

“If you say so.”

Max looked like he wanted to argue more, but gave up and went downstairs to tell David to make them cookies.

After he left, Nikki pulled out her phone and texted Neil to make fun of him for choosing to finish his science fair project instead of hanging out with them.

5.

As it turned out, graduating high school was a fairly boring affair.

Most of it was sitting. Underneath his robes Max wore a nice pair of slacks and a blue button up shirt, complete with a shiny pair of loafers that he would never wear again.

The senior president was taking her sweet time calling out names. A couple kids slowed down the affair by tripping on stage. He would’ve played games on his phone if David hadn’t taken it away before the ceremony started.

Finally, his row stood to go. They had to walk to the backstage area, and go through curtains that a teacher would hold open for each person. It was all very convoluted. Max just wanted to get it over with.

His name was called, the teacher opened the curtains for him, and she dropped them too early so his hat nearly fell off- luckily he had to use bobby pins to keep it on, so it was secure.

The moment he stepped on stage, he could hear a lot of shouting. His eyes followed the sound to the middle of the crowd, and there sat everyone he cared about.

Neil was conservative about his cheering, but he looked happy enough. He graduated the previous year so he had to travel from college to come to his graduation, and Max told him not to bother, but Neil just said, “Fuck you, you came to my graduation and now I have to return the favor.”

Beside him, Nikki was howling. Literally howling. She probably learned it from the wolves she managed to befriend (and he still didn’t know how the fuck she did that, though the same could be said for most of the things she did). She was jumping up and down and waving her arms wildly. The parents next to her looked fearful for their lives.

And, loudest of them all, David. He was screaming his heart out, saying things like “Max I’m so proud of you!” and “I’m so happy you made it this far!” There were tears on his face, and Gwen, standing beside him, seemed embarrassed on his behalf, but she still smiled and flashed Max a thumbs up.

Max smiled back and stepped forward to take his diploma.

—

Later the five of them were at a restaurant, talking and laughing, trading congratulations and wondering about the future.

David turned to him, said something, clapped him on the back, went back to conversing with Gwen.

It didn’t feel real.

How did Max get here?

He was in a four star restaurant with what was essentially his family, he didn’t imagine a black pit in his future, he could barely remember when he last felt lonely for a long period of time.

Max was happy, and so were the people around him. This was the life he couldn’t fathom when he was living with his parents.

His parents were out and about these days, he knew. Sometimes, Max was afraid that they’d show up on his doorstep, demanding he come back with them. That he had a responsibility to them. That he had to love them, just because they “raised” him, even though they never loved him the way he needed.

Max stabbed a green bean and shoved it in his mouth. He hated green beans. It was a good distraction.

“How come green beans come with every steak dinner?” Max wondered out loud.

“You’ve gotta have some vegetables,” Neil said.

“Mashed potatoes are vegetables!” Nikki told them.

“I’m not sure if mashed potatoes count,” David said.

“If schools can say that french fries are vegetables,” Gwen said, “then mashed potatoes are vegetables.”

Their conversation devolved into complaints about the American education system. Max’s mouth hurt. He was still smiling. He wished no one noticed.

Max had hope for the future, and he wasn’t afraid to keep holding on to it.

—

They finished dinner, and Max grabbed the graduation robe he slung over the chair and stood to leave. Nikki and Neil stood with him; the three of them planned to burn his robe and hat in a fire and then go to some party Max was invited to. Gwen and David stayed behind to pay the bill.

“Have fun, kids,” Gwen said.

“Yeah!” David yelled. “Have fun, don’t drink, don’t do drugs, drive save, please be home by ten-”

“David, Max just graduated, I think he’s responsible enough to have a sleepover,” Gwen said.

“I mean, sure, but I get kind of worried, you know?”

“Alright,” Max said, “I’m leaving, bye, have fun doing whatever it is you’re going to do-”

“We’re going to watch all the Shrek movies,” Gwen deadpanned.

“-and I did not need to know that ‘kay thanks see you later.”

While they were talking, Neil and Nikki went to stand by the door. Neil tapped his foot impatiently and pointedly gestured to his watch when Max looked over.

He gave one last wave and went to join them. Behind him he heard David yelp—presumably because Gwen elbowed him, as she was wont to do, though he couldn’t imagine what David did this time.

Max reached his friends. Together, they walked outside; it rained while they were in the restaurant, so the air was damp and it smelled like wet concrete. Hopefully the wood they were going to use to make a fire didn’t get too waterlogged.

Footsteps slapped behind them. Max turned around and there, unsurprisingly, was David.

For as long as he’d known him, David had a habit of running after him. It was weird. David always cared too much.

“Hey, Max,” David said, “before you leave, can we- uh, have a talk? Just you and me.”

Max paused, shrugged, and turned around to tell Nikki and Neil to wait for him in the car, only to see that they already left without him. Typical.

“Alright,” he said. “But soon we’re going to be ridiculously late instead of fashionably late, so make it quick.”

David fidgeted. He stuck his hands in his pockets, took them out, rested them on his hips before he rethought that and crossed his arms instead.

“You gonna talk anytime soon?” Max asked.

“Uh, yeah.” David cleared his throat. “Well, to start off, I just wanna tell you- you know I love you, right, Max? You’re- you’re family, to me. To Gwen too. And you always will be.”

Max’s eyes darted around, looking anywhere but David’s face. He settled them on the ground when it felt like moving them anymore would dislodge the tears.

“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “I- yeah, I think I know. And- you’re, uh, you’re not half-bad, I guess.” He brought a fist up to his mouth and coughed. It didn’t help much.

David nodded affirmatively. “Right. Right. And I know you just graduated, and you’re already eighteen, but—I’ve been talking about this with Gwen, she says it’s a good idea—actually she said it would’ve been a good idea years ago, but I didn’t think you’d have been open to it then-”

“What are you saying, David?” Max asked.

“What I’m saying,” David said, “is that if you’d like, I would, uh- I want to adopt you. Officially.”

For a few seconds, Max didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. And when he opened his mouth to try and say something, all that came out was a croak.

Keeping his eyes from moving didn’t help in the end. Tears fell. He brought up an arm to roughly rub them away, and it caught on his nose too, covering his sleeve in snot. His dress shirt was probably ruined.

“I- I mean, it’s just an option,” David said nervously. “If you don’t like the idea, that’s- that’s fine, you’re family regardless, it’s your choi-”

“Shut up, David,” Max managed to say through the tears. “God, I’m just about to go to a party, why’d you have to bring this up now? Should’ve- should’ve waited until I got back home, when there weren’t other people around.” He sniffed.

“Sooooo,” David said, “is that a... yes? No?”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Max said. “It’s a- okay, fine, I don’t care, adopt me or whatever, let’s just- talk about this later.”

“It sure looks like you care,” David pointed out.

“Go away, David,” Max said, without any real heat. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You can talk more about- about this then. Okay?”

David smiled. It was a bit different from his usual blinding grins, but no less brighter for it.

“Alright, Max.”

Max turned around and walked briskly to the car where his friends were waiting, ready to burn his graduation robes to make room for the future.

+1

David set the last of the boxes on the floor and wiped his hands on his pants.

“Well, I think that’s the last of them,” he said.

Max looked around at his college dorm room and nodded. It was fairly empty, but it wouldn’t be for long. He had a lot of shit to unpack. Hopefully his roommate wouldn’t mind.

Together, Max and David started the climb back down to the car.

“So,” David said, “what were you planning on majoring in? Do you have any plans for your career?”

A couple years ago, Max would’ve gotten broody and silent at questions like that, not being able to imagine a time where he’d actually go to college and have goals. He’d gotten better at that kind of thing, though.

“I don’t really have a specific major yet,” Max said, “but, uh, I actually kind of wanted to become a teacher.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs. David looked a bit surprised.

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t think you’d like being around kids so much. You always acted more like Gwen whenever you came to help out at Camp Campbell.”

Max shrugged, put his hands in his jeans. “Yeah, well, I just kind of thought- when I was a kid, I wasn’t really subtle, you know? I mean. In retrospect, it was pretty obvious that my home life was kind of not great. And I was kinda thinking- I don’t hate kids, they can be pretty cool, and teachers are, like, taught signs of abuse in kids, but most of them don’t want to believe it actually happens so they either just don’t recognize it for what it is or they make rationalizations and the kid just keeps on living with their shitty family. So I thought- hey, I know what it can look like, I know how it can be—not for all of them, there’s different kinds of- you know—but.”

Max took a deep breath, not realizing until he stopped how much he needed air.

“Uh, yeah,” he said awkwardly. “That’s what I’m planning right now.”

David was smiling at him. He always smiled. For some reason, it wasn’t as annoying as it used to be, when he was six and miserable.

“Max,” David said. He hesitated, then grabbed Max in a full body hug.

“Max, I am so proud of you.”

It took barely a second for Max to return the hug. He pressed his face in David’s shoulder, not wanting to be seen crying. It was stupid for him to cry. David always said he was proud of Max, and he was pretty free with hugs, too. This shouldn’t have been any different.

But ever since David adopted him it felt like tears came easier. Max didn’t know if he cared much for that side effect.

Eventually, David let go, pretending not to notice Max vigorously wiping his face.

“Well,” he said, “guess I should probably leave you to unpack, huh? I’m sure if I stayed and hassled you any longer you’d just start telling me to go away.” David laughed like it was a joke.

“Uh, wait,” Max said. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, widened his stance like he was ready for a fight. In his mind, it kind of was.

“I know I never really, uh, say anything,” he said, “but I need to make sure- like, I know I usually come across as- not caring, or apathetic, or- hostile, but I-”

His eyes pricked. He was about to cry again. This just has to happen every time he tries to express any sort of strong positive emotion.

“I love you, and you’ve done so much for me, even when I hated you—or acted like I hated you, I don’t know—and you just. You mean a lot to me, Dad.”

In front of him, David was bawling. There would be no end to it for the next few hours, at least, but Max only had himself to blame.

He braced himself for one more comment.

“If you want,” he said, “you can stay for a bit longer, help me unpack my stuff. You don’t have to leave yet.”

Twelve years after they first met, David stepped forward to join Max.

[animeyanderelover]

This one wanted to be kept anonymous and what is asked shall be done.

Request: Can you please do Prompt 72 for Claude Faustus?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, overprotectiveness, kidnapping, sabotage, manipulation, teasing

Prompt 72: “Do you want your underwear back?”

You hated approaching that man, you hated being with him, no matter how hard he might try to change your mind. Being stuck with someone who wasn't even a human was really everything, but pleasant. Being completely isolated in a cottage you weren't allowed to leave was unpleasant. And the trues cherry on top of everything was his personality, rge unbelievable confidence he seemed to have in himself that he would get you to love him and all the teasing and provoking just to get his sadistic fun out of it.

His methods were rather simple, but smart and effective nevertheless. Whenever you were ignoring him, he did something to leave you with no choice but to seek for him. As much as you hated admitting it, he was the one who took care of you, meaning that without him you wouldn't be provided with the basic needs a human needed daily for living. Because you knew from previous experiences that as much as he chose to be lenient, Claude got quickly annoyed and was ready to punish you when you made him snap which didn't end always well. It wasn't like he hurt you physically, but he very much always showed you that he was the one in power and the one you would have to rely on for everything. Clearing this up hurt your pride more than anything else and you just knew that he wanted to embarrass you by having you admitting it.

Making you come to him, having you pleading him to help you had to be the most shameful for you to do, having to do what he wanted just so you would also get what you wanted. It wasn't good for your own self-esteem and knowing Claude, he did everything on purpose so this would happen. Your guess was to feed his ego a bit by knowing that you had to come to him when you needed help.

He probably intended to push you into developing Stockholm syndrome and forcing you to think that he was all you needed, you had figured out that his kind seemed to be more possessive over persons they had chosen as their "mates".

If you remembered right one of your friends had once told you that it was her dark fantasy to have someone going after her who would be ready to kill for her, everyone seemed to like this thought of having someone loving them who would do anything for the person of desire. And back then you might have even wanted the same, but now you could have beaten your ounger self up for thinking about this. People only knew better after having witnessed certain things, same counting for you. You were alone, helpless, left at the mercy of your captor.

You were in no condition to look in those golden eyes, not wanting to see the same amused and pleased look from all of this. No, absolutely not. But even without looking up, you felt those eyes sliding over your body, causing goosebumps to start coverin your whole body and your face to burn up, knowing what would await you in your nearest future.

It was all his fault, he had done it once again on purpose, you knew it had to be true. Why else would his eyes linger a bit longer on the place between your legs that currently was at it's most vulnerable, unprotected which added a new kind of shame to all of this? He must have done it, there was no other explanation.

"You seem to feel tonight a bit more bold than usual, don't you think so?", he asked, the slight amusement in his voice all too audible which had you boiling even more. How much you would have died to just smash him in his face to feel satisfaction. But it would only be for a few seconds before you might agitate Claude and making him angry was not a good idea, not in the least bit. Especially now that you were left so exposed.

"Claude...Where is my underwear?", you pressed out, eyes still trained on the wooden floor under your feet, not a single scratch or trace of dust on it. That you had to give Claude, he made sure that the house always stayed in top shape. What had he said once before? A pretty house for his pretty made? Something in that direction.

Black and polished shoes entered your vision, the sudden closeness causing your skin to crawl and make you stumble frightened a few feet back, not having sensed his fast approach. A short huff of air was heard from him, sounding like he was a bit annoyed and yet entertained by this small act of yours, making you bite angrily your tongue. Making yourself look like a fool wasn't what you planned on doing whilst being with him. It gave him only more stuff to irritate you with.

"(y/n)...I thought we already talked about this. You have to look someone in the eyes when you want something from them. Otherwise I'm afraid I won't be able to help you and you know I will gladly do anything for you if you would just let me. If you just wouldn't be that incorrigible."

Ah yes, that shit again. Your manners and the tantrums you sometimes threw about the situations you were stuck in, the disapproving looks from Claude whenever you acted out of the place, the constant lecturing that came afterwards. He really came in such scenarios over as a butler who wanted to make sure that others were behaving like they should be and scolding them if they didn't. It put you always down whenever he pointed those things out, you knew you weren't perfect and him rubbing it constantly under your nose wasn't helpful. It led you to such moments where you just felt like you were under average, reaching your lower points.

It was no reason to give up nor was it an excuse to stop fighting, especially since the butler planned on making you feel that way, to slowly break you. Still, he was currently the only person you were able to see, meaning there was no one to cheer you up, no one to tell you otherwise. You were all on your own with the only source of comfort being the golden-eyed man. And there were those times where you questioned if giving up your pride was the better and less painful option and indeed just giving in would make your life easier. The moments where you became all too aware of the one and only fact. That a human wouldn't be able to beat a demon, at least not a human like you.

This was one of those moments where you felt like a fly trapped in the web of the spider and where the only option was pleading and hoping he would choose to be lenient with you. "Just standing there and not saying anything won't help you nor can I help you when you are like this. If you don't have anything to say, please go back to bed. It's pretty late and I have to leave tomorrow morning early to work in the manor of my master."

He didn't sound happy whilst saying it, you knew that he didn't really like how his master was constantly bossing him around and on some days he complained for a few seconds about what a brat that boy really was, even more when because of him Claude had to be kept busy which meant leaving you longer alone.

You were stuck in denial, not thinking it would be good to do as he said. Not letting having it the way he wanted it to go was important for your own sanity, to prevent you from getting caught in his trap and grow over time too dependent on him. But you also could estimate what would happen afterwards. He would take something else from you away to push you into having to ask him once again and he would continue this for as long as he had the patience. That meant for you more and more embarrassment and hurt. Was that what you wanted? Or should you just go with the easy option to keep the damage as small as possible and live with this scratch on your pride?

You heard his footsteps slowly fading more and more away from you telling you that he was leaving you in your frozen state behind. Why wouldn't he? He had the time and the power to do so. Claude knew that the one way or another you would have to come to him and it was what allowed him to have confidence. This luxury was sadly only open for him whilst you were only allowed to live a good life for as long as he was pleased with how you acted. It was cruelly unfair, but you knew that this was how life was. The one in power and the one at the bottom.

"Wait.", you called faintly after him, making him stop, golden eyes being met with yours, the look in them being comparible with being tired and done with something. You looked leached out, your pride already having taking so many blows before and every time it became harder to fix the damage and pain he put you through like this. Maybe there would come a time where you would have to give up indeed, you doubted that anyone would be able to stay strong whilst suffering from this. But maybe you were wrong and there were people out there who would be able to stand their ground. And maybe you just weren't this person.

"Claude...My underwear.", you slowly muttered out, forcing your gaze to not waver too much and stay on him, knowing you would have to repeat it again if you would look away. And that would mean more poison for you to swallow.

"Do you want your underwear back?", he asked with a silk-like voice, smoothly walking with a few huge steps over to you to take a better look at your current state. How wonderful, he felt extremely satisfied in that one moment. You were slowly being stripped off your stubborness to accept him, instead starting to to him when you needed something. Just two months ago you wouldn't have even thought in your wildest dreams to ask him for help. It just told him that you were slowly breaking, were getting exhausted from all of this.

"Yes. Please.", you said in a more quiet voice, now that he was being so close to you again you felt your gaze shifting somewhere completely else, still not being able to shake the drilling look of him off. Hopefully he wouldn't force you to ask him once again.

"See? This wasn't as hard after all wasn't it?" His voice was laced with a certain sweetness in it, leaving you with a bitter stinging in your heart. That was not true at all. You had just now sacrificed a part of your own confidence. Not like he would care. And not like you would tell him that. You didn't feel in the mood to do so and now it would be dangerous to do so, whilst you felt so incredibly small and helpless. It would be too easy for him to get in your head.

Instead of answering you let out a noise akin to a gentle hum, making yourself a bit smaller, feeling a bit intimidated by the way he was towering over you. Claude seemed to take notice of this and to your surprise he was suddenly kneeling in front of you, although you had almost bet he would push your buttons a bit more right now. But maybe he didn't feel in the mood to be that way, not after you had for the first time ever finally broken a bit in front of him.

With his own face suddenly so close to his, you had no other place to avoid those golden eyes, scanning slowly over your embarrassed and ashamed expression. "You don't have to be scared of me. You know that I wouldn't hurt you. I'm not lowlife like other creatures you might have met."

"Then why do you do this to me?", you stuttered out, by now feeling your eyes tearing up. "Because I only want the best for you. I know how to treat you good, better than anyone else. And all I try to do is helping you to realize this. It would make life easier for you too. I just want you to trust me."

[missusgordo]

I kinda get it tho? Angel does tend to sabotage things. He has a lot of deep-seated insecurities. Breaking up w/ Buffy wasn't just about the curse, but Angel thinking he wasn't good enough. If Angel could be with Buffy (curse fixed), would he really stay in the long-term? That's a fair question. Angel never seems to let himself be happy.

It most certainly is a fair question to ask. I agree that Angel has some deep seeded insecurities. If you are reading the comics those insecurities have been exploited in a BIG way. Which is unfortunate because I think it diminishes the growth we saw in his character on the show. 

But if we stick to the show alone, we do see Angel grow and become more confident in his journey. While he remains flawed and certainly has his moments of self-doubt. He is never going to be your happy go lucky boy next door (despite what AtS season 3 will have you believe). But I do believe that he is slowly figuring out how to live with his past and find some contentment in his life.

The reason he left Buffy was not only his curse, but it was a very big part of why he left. He told her that she deserved someone who could make love to her. But as I have said before, both Buffy and Angel had a lot of growing up to do at the time when Angel leaves her. And their experiences have really shaped them. I think when Angel goes back in Chosen (after Home) he is in a very different mind set than the one he was at the time he decided to leave in Season 3. He clearly asks her about the future and what her thoughts are and in season 5 he says he is waiting for her because she is cookie dough. Angel seems to have come full circle on his thinking and I believe that is in large part because he now has his own calling, his own path, his own purpose and he feels worthy of being Buffy’s partner. Of course, Buffy isn’t there yet when he comes to her in Chosen and that’s OK.

In terms of why Angel never allows himself to be happy well the reason is pretty clearly, at least in large part, the curse itself. I mean even when Nina is interested in him in Season 5 he is concerned that being with her or finding some contentment will trigger the curse and it takes Wesley to remind him that perfect happiness is quite rare. Still he lives in fear of what happiness might mean for him and therefore his story thus far has not allowed him any respite. Add to this the fact that his past literally haunts him at every turn (Drusilla/Spike, The First, Hawkeye Penn, Darla, James, Holtz, Sam - to name a few on the show only). It is hard for Angel to put things behind him if the past keeps popping up to bite him in the ass. But I think in s9 he seems to come to an understanding with regards to his past and the things he has done, he says “I know I can’t make up for the mistakes I’ve made…the things I’ve done.” I think slowly Angel is learning and he can continue to learn that he doesn’t have to be tied down by his past. It would be great if the story allowed him to move on as well.

So certainly the path back to Buffy for Angel wouldn’t be a quick and easy road. But I do believe that if Angel could find a way to fix his curse and now that he seems to be making peace with his past (and of course if Buffy was in a place in which she wanted a relationship with him) I do believe that the Angel we saw in late Season 4 and 5 would stay with her long-term and make it work. 

[liveandlovevaldaya]

Untitled

“Mm. Ok. See you in a bit then." 

 Zendaya set her phone down on the expansive kitchen island, walking over to the fridge, and opening it up. She wasn’t particularly surprised to find it empty, and reached into the freezer instead, pulling out a pint of ice cream and rummaging in a drawer for a spoon. 

 She headed toward the living room, her sock-clad feet sliding smoothly across the tile, flipping lights on as she went. 

 Damn, the house was big; she thought to herself for about the millionth time since she had moved in. The space had gone to good use already, but she wasn’t one to spend too long agonizing over decorating, and she had just resigned herself to the fact that most of this place would stay empty for the foreseeable future. 

 Two beeps coming over the house alarm system, alerted her to a door being opened, just as she reached the giant couch, sinking into it and popping a spoonful of frozen dessert into her mouth. 

 "Shoes OFF!!” She hollered, hearing her voice echo across the bare walls. A moment later, and Val was sauntering into the room, hoodie over his head, tight black jeans, holding a bag of takeout in his right hand. 

 Zendaya’s eyes scanned his feet for a second, satisfied to find them clad in socks. 

 "You act like I’ve never been here before.“ He stated matter-of-factly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head before he let his body free fall into the couch with a sigh.

 Zendaya raised an eyebrow. "I just like to remind people of the rules.” She responded, digging her spoon into the carton for another bite. 

 "The rules.“ Val mocked slightly, pulling his food out. "You and your damn rules. Should I sign a contract on this one, too?" 

 A couple of years ago, those words might have stung, but Zendaya just shot him a look that could kill, and rolled her eyes. Even at their grumpiest, they were still good. 

They had been forced to make that decision collectively about a year ago. Things started to get weird- heated every time they saw each other; passive-aggressive comments flying left and right. After a couple of almost-shouting matches, they had a come to Jesus moment. 

Realized that their frustrations with each other were always going to be there- exacerbated by crazy schedules, missed sleep, jealousy, anger at not seeing each other enough.

They co-existed much easier now- flippant comments rolling off one anothers’ back every now and then. Probably wasn’t healthy- but at this particular time and place in their little bubble, it worked. 

“I could make you sign a contract about a lot of things- and you’d do it.” Zendaya replied sassily, eyes on the television as she flipped through channels before settling on ESPN.

Val murmured in agreement, chuckling, not looking up from his food, and they sat for a few minutes silently, eating and watching the game.

“Well, I’m fucking beat.” Val announced, rising to take his trash into the kitchen, collecting Zendaya’s empty ice cream pint and spoon, and shuffling out of sight.

“Me, too.” She called after him, switching off the t.v. and getting up.

They met back up at the staircase and he ushered her up in front of him, hanging on to the hand she put out behind her as they went, kissing it once perfunctorily.

“Do you think your room will ever be less... cave-like?” Val asked as they entered her room, stripping their clothes off as they headed toward the bathroom, leaving a trail to the shower.

Zendaya reached into the huge, tiled, walk-in and turned both the shower heads on, reaching for her toothbrush off the sink as she waited for the shower to warm.

“I don’t see me changing that- maybe ever.” She admitted thoughtfully around a mouth of toothpaste, and then spit into the sink.

Val nodded, stepping under “his” shower head, closing his eyes as the hot water beat over his body. He didn’t see her, but he could feel her presence when she stepped in. 

It was a fucking weird ritual, this one; but they loved it. They didn’t even think about it anymore. No one else knew of course, but Val had seen just about every type of female form on this earth, and Zendaya's personality just wasn't one that made a big deal about these types of things. 

There was nothing sexual about these showers. They were aware that from the outside looking in it seemed twisted. Two "best friends" sharing personal space regularly like this. But it was just them. They'd always been different. 

They worked out some of their biggest problems out loud with each other while separately shampooing their hair and scrubbing clean. 

 Tonight, they slipped seamlessly back into the "is it worth it to put myself out there" dating theme again, even though it had been two weeks since they had last seen each other. 

 "I dunno," Zendaya said, watching Val soap his chest. "It's like, I can't imagine myself ever showering with any guy I know like this- and definitely not sexually. I just don't think I'm made out for a relationship anymore, like can I really have made myself that cold?" 

 "Z- babe, you aren't cold." Val looked her in the eye before rinsing off. "You are one of the biggest-hearted people I know. Trust me, you're gonna meet someone some day you want to shower with." He smirked at her, and she laughed, flicking some water from her side toward him. 

 "Yeah, well what about you then, huh?" She asked, trying to reach for her bottle of bath soap without getting her newly styled hair wet. Val grabbed it for her, and handed it over. 

 "Dude, I'm just done for now." He admitted, tipping his head back and letting the water rush over his face for a moment. "There's so much fucking drama, always. I'd rather shower platonically with you for the rest of my days on this earth then try and navigate dating again." 

 They shut off their respective shower heads in sync, and Val exited first, handing Zendaya a fresh towel off the towel warmer. He wrapped his towel around his waist, heading over to the sink to comb his hair and brush his teeth while she disappeared into her walk in closet. 

 "Val. You've gotta settle down sometime." Her voice floated out to where he stood. "I don't want you to shower with me for a lifetime if it means you are missing out on love. You are so damn passionate. I know you want kids." 

 "I know you want kids," Val said knowingly, following her sweats dressed form out of the bathroom, over to the big bed. He bent down to retrieve his phone out of his jeans pocket from where it had landed on the floor, and put it on the nightstand, helping her draw the heavy comforter back so they could slip inside. 

 She sighed a moment later in the dark, reaching for his hand. "Honest opinion- don't think about it- first thought that comes to your mind." Her voice drifted up toward the ceiling. "Are we self-sabotaging on purpose? Is this all just some drawn out plan where one day we wake up and realize we better just marry each other? I mean, the only thing we don't do right from the outside looking in at this point is fuck... have sex, make love.... whatever people are calling it these days." 

 "You know I'd marry the hell out of you, Z." He responded in an instant. "But I think you're right. I need to love someone passionately. Like leave hundreds of roses all over the house on a whim passionately. Cook three course meals and get all romantic. You aren't there yet." 

 She murmured her assent. "The thought of all that makes me shudder." She giggled and then rolled toward him, face suddenly serious. "Am I broken?" She asked softly, searching his eyes. 

 "Baby," he breathed out softly, running a hand down her cheek. "Hell no you aren't broken. That bastard just really hurt you. And it's going to take a while." 

Zendaya sighed. "He really is a bastard, isn't he?" 

 Val nodded in the dark. "Huge. I'd love to kick his ass." 

 A smile spread across her face- not because she would ever condone violence, but because she loved this man who was next to her. Really, she did. And she was pretty sure one day she was going to let him leave roses all over the house, and cook fancy meals... and do more than just talk philosophically about life in the shower with her. 

 Deep down inside, Val knew, too. He was just waiting. He would wait. For as long as it took.