#this is the one (1) place i can post this without shame or judgement let me have it

[madhyanas]

here be dragons

Part 1 of the Hospitality series

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Rating: T/PG-13

Word Count: 4.6k 

Warnings: One use of a slur, aimed at the reader.

A/N: ahhhhh it’s a little late, but i finally finished this. now i can finally start posting this series in the RIGHT order, oh my god. check it out on ao3 here, if you want.

It’s late.

You lie in your cot, staring into the darkness. Unable to sleep, surrounded by the vicious tempest outside. It’s raining heavily; pelting down so hard you can hear it through the roof and feel it through the floor. Occasionally, you hear a boom of thunder, and the inn doors rattle and shake.

You’re glad you fixed the waterproofing this morning.

In a storm like this, you hold some half-hearted hope that a traveller will stop by. Someone soaked and freezing; desperate enough for you to hike up the price of lodging without turning away business.

Swindling a tourist here and there can’t hurt, in the grand scheme of the galaxy. You have to eat, after all.

The rich scent of waterlogged earth fills the room, and something about it seems unfamiliar. You’ve accustomed to the occasional downpour by now, having lived on Takodana for many years. But the lingering air of petrichor reminds you just how different home was — all dry deserts and salt flats, the odd dust storm. Certainly no lush greenery or blue skies.

As a lump settles in your throat, you miss the mechanic stand from your childhood. The slick smear of oil on your mother’s cheek as she gave the speeder a tune-up. The stripes on your father’s montrals above the welding mask as he soldered wires back together. When he was done, he’d always squish your little face in his palms. Smoothing his thumbs over the white markings on your face, near identical to his. The only symbol of your Togruta heritage, contrasted on a face of your mother’s colouring.

You sigh, and sit up. Now, you’re stuck here. Running an inn by yourself, out of business and in denial about it. You miss the feeling of freedom that came and left with youth; running through the streets, being swept up in warm, protective arms. Your mother rolling her eyes. Your father’s laugh.

Suddenly, a bang. You hear front doors slide open, and your heart leaps into your throat. The sound rings in your ears for a moment with its violence. Blindly, you grab the vibroblade from the table and scramble to the entrance. You’ve never used it before, and you pray the doors are just malfunctioning.

As you skirt through the narrow passageway, your stomach drops. No such luck. A large, silhouetted figure stands before the main desk, looming ominously as the wind howls outside. Maker, they’re huge. Far bigger than you, and a small, nagging part of your brain says they could kill you in a heartbeat.

It’s still dark. Frozen as you are, you haven’t turned the lamp on. In vain, you hope they might leave if no-one arrives. A bolt of lightning flashes outside, and the glare arcs off the stranger’s helmet.

Your eyes widen at the glimpse of a smooth, glass t-visor. A Mandalorian.

Oh, you’re fucked.

In that moment, they turn to you directly. The back of your neck tingles, and you realise they can see you. Their helmet turns down to the vibroblade in your hands, before returning to your face calmly. Of course. You don’t think you’re a very threatening sight, cowering in the doorway like this.

You feel remarkably stupid.

Hesitantly, you step forward and switch on the lamp at the desk with your free hand. Light pours out softly between you, doing nothing to calm your nerves. You squint, eyes adjusting to the brightness, trying to control the pounding of your heart.

“I am in need of lodging.”

You blink. The voice, low and rumbling, is scrambled by a vocoder. Male, from what you can tell, and the static scratches at your ears. He’s covered from head-to-toe in deep blue armour; rivulets of water drip off the steel, puddling on your floor. Some kind of pack rests on his back, and you try, fruitlessly, to ignore the glint of a trigger and scope.

Towering over you, you’d have to crane your head just to look him in the visor. You don’t have the nerve, in any case.

It occurs to you, faintly, that you could die tonight. It also occurs to you that the chances of an untimely demise would be significantly higher, if you keep gawking at him like this.

“Uh…”

“Lodging,” he repeats, sounding distinctly impatient. “Is there a vacancy?”

Maker, when is there not.

“Yes! Yes, there’s a— there’s a vacancy.” Fumbling for the log-holo, you set the vibroblade down in a cubby under the desk. Still within reach, and your receptionist autopiloting kicks in. “Uh, single room, how many nights?” You glance up at the shiny helm. The usual questions, but it feels… impertinent, asking for information. Like you’re violating his sanctity, or something, just daring to wonder. Especially about someone so clearly hostile. How does a faceless sheet of beskar manage to make your stomach churn?

“One.”

Of that, you’re grateful. One night, and you’ll be done with this. “Okay,” you reply, dragging out the sound. You sound nervous. He must be able to tell. “And, uh, name?”

He stares you down. It suddenly feels cold, frigid, even though his visage most definitely cannot change. It strikes you, in that moment, that even your sensitive nose can’t detect anything on him. The rain has washed it all away, except for a stubborn, smokey hint of blaster ammunition. Recently fired. A shiver runs up your spine.

Acerbically, he snaps, “Pick one.” There’s a rising heat behind the words, you don’t push your luck.

“I’ll— I’ll just put ‘Mando’,” you mutter, entering the moniker into the log. Once again, in the span of less than five minutes, you feel like a moron. Heat rushes to your cheeks.

But there’s one more caveat. You should probably forget it, just this once, but for some reason: “You’re not allowed to bring weapons inside. While— While you’re staying.”

A golden rule. One of the conditions upon which you were even allowed to run this place was your responsibility to maintain peace. (You often wonder what the Pirate Queen was thinking, believing you capable of breaking up any kind of violence.)

To your relief, the Mandalorian doesn’t explode with rage, or any such violent gestures. His shoulders are tense, but this — dealing with irritated, tired travellers — is familiar. He’s no different, you tell yourself.

“The weapons stay.”

“I can’t let you—”

“I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.” You blink, and your silence seems enough for him to continue. “I won’t be using them on you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Keep your distance, and there won’t be a problem.”

A threat. Perhaps he’s trying to reassure you, in some strange way, but it doesn’t stop the cold fist of dread from closing around your heart.

“I’m… not supposed to—”

“You have my word.”

A muscle in your jaw ticks. Despite the nerves wrenching your stomach, there’s an urge to stand your ground. To defend the principles of Maz’s territory. (Or, more selfishly, to rebuke how easily he’s trampling all over you.) You shift, ready to argue.

But then he moves, one hefty arm lifting upwards, and you flinch. He pauses, before fishing a leather pouch out of a pocket and dropping it on the counter. You hear the familiar clink of credits. The sound elicits an instinctual reaction, a lurch of hope. You lean forward with a frown, inspecting the offering.

You gingerly pluck it by the drawstring, and its weight is a pleasant surprise. The contents are promising — a fee far exceeding the cost of one night’s stay.

A prickling mixture of shame and embarrassment heat your cheeks. Oh, how quickly your righteous anger fades at the promise of payment. Again, the back of your neck tingles. A reminder, that the Mandalorian is watching.

Taking a steadying breath, you bring your eyes back to the visitor. “Should I… show you to your room?”

A beat, then he nods.

You step to the side and flick the overhead lights on, waiting for him to go first. But he continues staring, and your skin itches with the weight of judgement. You realise he’ll only follow behind.

You swallow thickly, keeping your gaze averted as you lead him inside. Your little bungalow inn doesn’t have that many rooms to begin with, so you keep them all clean and ready for a guest — that’s not the issue.

But you have to go the night knowing there’s an elite warrior, perfectly capable of silencing your heartbeat, staying two doors down. You have to sleep with that knowledge.

You realise the vibroblade still rests in your palm. It feels clunky. Foolish, in your inexperienced hand. The Mandalorian’s heavy footsteps thud behind you, accented by the clank of metal armour. You clamp down the urge to rub the back of your tingling neck, and in some peculiar urge to reconcile, you half-turn to him as you walk. Slowly, showing him the weapon.

“Ah, I wouldn’t use this, you know. On you.” He’s crushingly silent, appraising you. He has to duck his head slightly to fit in the passageway, nearly filling up its width with his bulk.

You blather on, blindly spitting out words to fill the silence. “It’s just— all sorts pass through here, you know? This place has Kanata’s stamp of approval and all, but better safe than sorry.”

Still, no response, and you wince at just how green you sound. You swallow, having reached the doorway; you’ve led him to the quarters with the largest bed, having figured he’ll need it.

“There’s instructions to set the passcode inside. If you need anything,” you say, hoping he won’t, “I’m that door over there.” For one, awkward moment, you stand, feeling horribly out of place with the brooding figure at your side. “Well. Goodnight, then.”

You turn around, credits and blade in hand, ready to step into your quarters and get some kriffing rest, when the crawling, fuzzy feeling on the nape of your neck intensifies.

With one foot through the doorway, you hear him call out to you. “I thought no weapons were permitted.” A coarse noise crackles through the vocoder, and you realise it’s a laugh. You feel a cold sweat run down your back. “Is that blade just for show, then, little innkeeper?”

He— he sounds amused. Finding entertainment in your clear disadvantage. You feel sick, sick to your stomach, and slam the button to close the door behind you. Wetness springs to your eyes like clockwork, but the tears don’t fall even as you collapse on your cot. You’re pathetic, you think. Unable to stop him from belittling you, never mind barring him entry.

Sleep, though it eventually comes, is fitful and disturbed. Phantom helmets and mocking, modulated laughter fill your head.

In the morning, his room is emptied out. Bed made, fresher tidied.

No trace of the Mandalorian, at all. You’ve never been more grateful.

———

The second time you meet the Mandalorian, you’ve got your hands full.

“I’m not running a charity here.”

A Zabrak man has his hands planted on the desk, leaning into your space uncomfortably. Maker, guests like these test your patience.

It’s a poor attempt at intimidation. He’s taller than you, certainly, but gangly in a way that screams awkward, rather than lean. Scrawny, drawn out. Even the spikes protruding from his yellowish face are lumpy and faded. You wrinkle your nose at the faint, rank odour of sweat and booze. Overall, you’re unimpressed.

Besides, imposing figures don’t phase you much anymore. Not since that fateful encounter, nearly a cycle ago. You’d feared for your life that night.

Few were as large a threat as that Mandalorian.

The Zabrak hisses in your face, “Maz Kanata owes me a great debt. I’ll take it out of my bill.”

In your periphery, you can hear the telltale sounds of landing gear outside — a new arrival, but you can’t deal with that right now.

You blink slowly, and sigh. “Listen, this shtick you’re trying to pull? I’ve heard it before.” So, so many times. You’re not the only cheapskate in these parts. “You have a problem with Maz, you take it up with her. She doesn’t control my inn any more than I control the Castle.” That’s… not exactly true. But you doubt it matters to him.

Twisting his face unpleasantly, the man snarls, “I demand recompense, innkeeper. Return my credits, and we won’t have a problem.”

You recall being browbeaten at similar words. That night you cowed, frozen by the weight of mortality hanging over your head. But you have since hardened in the months that passed, and you steel your resolve.

Leaning close to the Zabrak, getting in his face, you speak through bared teeth. “You’re right. You get out of my inn, and we won’t.” Curling your lips into a disgusted half-sneer, “So I’ll be keeping my credits.”

“Insolent fool,” the Zabrak growls, and he moves to reach for something concealed behind his back. You jaw clenches — how did you miss that he was armed? — and you flinch backwards as he reveals a blaster. Before you can reach for your trusty vibroblade, the doors slide open with an innocent ting.

Standing there in the doorway, is your Mandalorian.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, huge as ever, ducking his head to step over the threshold. Armed to the teeth, as per usual.  He saunters forward slowly, purposefully. The swagger, the presence in his gait impossibly makes him seem… bigger? Somehow even more bulky than last time?

The Zabrak whirls round, only to balk at the steely-blue cuirass his chin comes to level with. He’s harmless compared to the warrior before him. You can only imagine how tiny you must seem. The Mandalorian keeps his head inclined down to the horned man, who’s now gripping the desk behind him, but his words are for you.

“Trouble, innkeeper?”

Maker, it’s been months since you heard that rumbling voice. It still knots your stomach, but less so, you think, than it did. You’re surprised he remembers you.

Your confidence with the pesky guest has not dissipated, however, and you find your words. “I don’t know.” You address the Zabrak calmly, “Is there any trouble, sir? It’d be a shame if things got… unpleasant.”

The wilting man cranes his head to you with a frantic look in his eye, and you feel a flash of pity. Ah, kriff. You’ve made your point.

Glancing at the Mandalorian, you make a subtle ‘back-up’ motion with your palm, half-wondering if he’ll take offence. But thankfully, he does as you request, and the Zabrak’s wheeze of relief is audible as he deflates.

“Takodana Castle,” you start, a little gentler than before, “Is three miles that way.” You thrust a thumb to the side. “One path, cuts through the forest. Can’t miss it.”

The Zabrak stumbles his way around the Mandalorian, never taking his wide eyes off the helmet. The armoured man steps aside silently, and it’s a wonder how he makes such a simple gesture seem so mocking. Saying that he’s the one in control, even if it’s temporarily at your behest. All in the way he shifts, the dangerous glint of his blasters in the light.

The memory of his laugh, hearty and sinister, echoes in your brain. Your toes curl in your boots.

Once he’s out of the door, the Zabrak gains some ill-founded sense of security. His wiry frame tenses, and he glares at you, spitting, “Watch yourself, halfbreed.” With a single, fleeting glance to the Mandalorian, he runs off towards the forest.

…ah.

You purse your lips, and look to the floor out of habit. Heat rushes to your cheeks. The slur is not unfamiliar to you. Your lack of montrals and lekku allow you to blend in, to lie low. But your markings reveal who you are. It’s strange; you think you’re proud of them. What they represent, who gave them to you. But the wave of shame that crashes over you sends blood roaring in your ears. For the Mandalorian to witness this? It’s a pitiful sight.

In the corner of your eye, you see him clench a fist, and you quash the sickness of your heart down with a vengeance. There are more pressing matters at hand.

“So. It’s, uh, been a while.” You cringe at the heavy-handed attempt to change the subject. Now that cursed Zabrak has left, it’s like all your bravado has sputtered out. And, really? Last time you saw the Mandalorian, a man from a culture of elite warriors, you thought he was going to murder you in your sleep. Been a while, indeed.

He plays along. “Well, I was in the area. Figured I should save the damsel in distress, while I had the chance.” He leans an elbow on the counter, resting his weight on it, and for a moment you’re perplexed.

The Mandalorian is… teasing you. Relaxed against your desk, standing close but not enough to be invasive. It’s a far cry from that shadow in the pouring rain, haunting your doorstep. “Although, from where I was standing, you didn’t seem to need much help,” he continues smoothly.

Compliments? Maker, if it were anyone else, you might even think he was making a pass at you.

But it’s him, and you give the helmet a strange look. It’s a little freaky, in all honesty. “I… see. What business do you have here, then, Mandalorian?”

The helm sags slightly in what you can only describe as a falter. It’s jarring. So incongruent with the persona you have crafted in your mind.

“I can’t just drop by?” You imagine your disbelief is evident on your face, because he sighs, a deep and raspy thing, before his voice sobers a fraction. “I have business with the Pirate Queen.” Your shoulders slacken. Of course. It’s a relief, in some way, to know that the purpose of his visit is so normal.

You ready the holo-log at your side. “Ah, sure. How many nights?”

He straightens and rubs a hand to the back of his neck briefly. You stare at the offending limb, entranced by such a normal, hesitant movement. It’s… It’s so very human, for lack of a better word.

“I’m not looking for lodging.” You blink up at his visor, frowning. “My work should only take a day, at the most.”

“Then…”

“I told you. Just wanted to drop in.” That doesn’t answer anything at all, and he elaborates, “I rarely visit Takodana, innkeeper. I thought I’d say hello while I was here.”

Your lips part. What? How… how can there be so much lost in translation? You’ve been afraid of this man, or a barebones idea of him, for months now. Like some kind of boogeyman, under-the-bed horror to spook children into good behaviour. And he comes to you with something like friendliness, with a smart one-liner and warmth in his tone?

You shake your head, dazed; reluctantly, you decide to give it to him straight. “I… I wasn’t under the impression that we were friends, Mandalorian.” He stills, and you keep going. “Honestly, uh, last time. It wasn’t great, for me. You— You scared me.”

‘You still do’ sits on the tip of your tongue. In the disarming haze of his amicability, you can’t tell if it’s true or not. You ramble in the face of his silence, if only to quiet the conflict in your mind. “I thought that you’d— I mean, I thought that I might. Y’know. Die, that night. I was tired, okay, and— and I didn’t know what to think…”

You trail off.

The Mandalorian stands before you, wordless. Your knees aren’t trembling, but there’s a worry seated deep in your chest. It’s interesting, maybe, that you don’t know who it’s for. Guilt begins to creep up on you, bitter at the back of your throat. Kriff. Just as you open your mouth to say something, his voice comes through the vocoder.

“I apologise. I was not… I did not know. It was never my intention to scare you.” His voice sounds hoarse, like the very thought of your fear repulses him. His words are not clumsy, per se, but there’s a rawness there that makes you notice how eloquent he usually sounds. The visor does not stray from your face. “I am sorry. Truly, I am sorry.” His shoulders are slumped, and he’s curling in on himself slightly. Making himself smaller, you realise faintly, and he presses a gloved hand to his chest. The helmet bows. “Ni ceta. I apologise, innkeeper.”

You blink rapidly, not knowing what to say. That’s… an awful lot to take in. You can’t remember the last time someone really begged for your forgiveness like this. You swallow thickly. Don’t cry.

The air seems muggy, somehow. Heated. As if all the truth that has burst forth carries a flame with it, burning the space between you. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his vambrace. The metal is cool against the warmth of your palm, and you’re careful not to touch any of the buttons on the control panel.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I appreciate that. It’s— it’s alright. I think.” You nod determinedly, as if to reaffirm your words.

Heartfelt apologies don’t spill out so easily from heartless men, surely. He’s worth more trust than you give him. And his stance — defeated, ashamed — no, it doesn’t suit him at all. The helm tilts back up to your face, and you shoot him a small smile. Some kind of impulse lurches in your chest; to comfort, to come together. It’s genuine, and there’s a rosy warmth to your cheeks that feels pleasant.

You slide your hand away from his arm to offer it in the air. It hovers boldly, an attempt to bridge the abyss. It takes him a second, but he clasps your hand in his. You shake firmly, and his grip is strong, yet not painful. Reassuring, in a way. You suspect he’s controlling it for your sake.

“Let’s start fresh, huh?” You give him your name, and he repeats it.

His baritone resonates in your ears; it sounds like molasses, dripping into chest and heart. To hear your name uttered with respect, reverence, in that clear-cut way he speaks. It is nothing short of a miracle, in a moment.

You reassure him immediately, “I don’t need yours, if you’re worried about that sort of thing.” You lick your lips nervously. “But I do need something to call you. Got a preference?”

He hums, and you’re grateful how at-ease he sounds. It’s better this way. “What was it I told you that day? ‘Pick one’, I believe.”

So. This is the Mandalorian. He’s got jokes.

You snort, more at the realisation than anything else, and his posture brightens. “If you’re sure.” You press your lips together, thinking of a name. The back of your neck tingles all the while, and the weight of his stare is welcome for the first time. “We could just keep simple? ‘Mando’ would work.”

“Original,” he drawls, not unkindly. “But fine by me.” You have no idea, but it sounds like he’s smiling.

“Alright, then, Mando.” It’s so surreal, chatting with your own personal nightmare after months, just to find out he’s kind of… sweet. Nice to talk to, in a way you didn’t know you needed till now.

———

You two make small talk for a while over the counter. Mild, lighthearted. You learn that Mando’s a much more nuanced soul than you first assumed. Thoughtful, contemplative — careful in the way he speaks to you. You’re not used to that kind of consideration, and it’s appreciated. He’s funny, too, in a crooked kind of way. Like a mismatched puzzle piece fitting in the wrong set, bringing a bemused, entertained quirk to your lips. He conveys wry amusement surprisingly well, despite wearing no facial expression to back him up.

Now that you’re not quaking at the sight of him, your curiosity emerges. Is it a pain, lugging so much armour around? Does he sleep with the helmet on? When did he get that ship, parked just outside? Is it painful, having such a pensive heart, but evoking fear with every step?

Mainly, though, you’re just happy. The blue of his beskar is softer to the eyes, now. It’s the feeling of dipping your toes into chill, crisp waters. Testing the mood of the current, of this new depth you have yet to discover.

Being friends. What a novel idea.

Mando turns to look out the window. The day is well into the afternoon; there’s still time before sunset. “I should get going,” he states, but makes no move to shift off the desk.

There’s a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Right, your work.” You scuff the toe of your boot against the floor. What can you say, really? One day of budding friendship doesn’t give you the right to impose.

“Yes. The Castle is… eastward, you said?”

You hum in agreement with where his finger is pointing. A shame. You thought you’d have more time with him. “Three miles through the forest,” you intone glumly. “Can’t miss it.”

Would you have to wait a cycle to see him again? More? Would you be waiting here, stuck in your idyllic, but oh-so-small corner of the galaxy, waiting for your Mandalorian to return? You purse your lips; the image doesn’t agree with you. You don’t agree with it, rather.

Finally, he straightens, and the height difference doesn’t startle you, this time. (Impresses you, maybe. Makes something giddy flutter in your chest. But you can’t afford those thoughts, can you?)

Mando tilts his helmet side to side slightly, as if he’s considering something. Weighing the pros and cons, and the action is somewhat exaggerated. You pay no heed, picking at a nail bed idly. It’s childish, sulky.

“Three miles can be travelled by foot. No need to waste the fuel.” He turns to you. “Never been through these woods before, though. Might get lost.”

In your disgruntlement, you don’t catch the leading inflection. You sigh. “I don’t think a Mandalorian would have much issue with an uninhabited forest. You’ll be fine. Just one straight path; don’t stray and it’s easy—”

Mando bends down a little, and says your name seriously, prompting you to look up. "I might get lost. Could use a guide.”

Your lips part in realisation, forming a small ‘o’. That’s what you say, too, and heat blooms in your cheeks at his static-filled snicker. He thinks he’s clever.

“So,” you start swiftly, attempting to recover your dignity. “Is it my turn to save the damsel?” He turns to the door, and you step round the desk to join him.

“I can slay my own beasts,” he snarks, and the mirth you hear is lilting. “You can return the favour, for the dragon I just scared off.”

You huff. “Hardly a dragon, I think.” With finality, you flick off the electric lights and step outside into the clean Takodana breeze.  “Wasn’t really a rescue so much as pest control.” You detect the light, spiced scent of the fragrant tree bark nearby. It grounds you to this moment. Taking in a hearty breath, you do your best to put that stinking Zabrak out of your mind.

A few hours off would be good. You barely get any guests anyway, and Maz is the understanding type. Living for millennia must do that to you.

Mando says nothing as you punch the lock code digits into the door, and start to make your way towards the forest. You know the path to the Castle like the back of your hand, like the strokes on your face, but you have never walked it with company. You smile, unabashed.

There’s a first time for everything.

———

[note: if there’s any warnings you think should be mentioned, please let me know.]

taglist: @pikapuff316 @theocatkov​ @starlite41

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[come-on-shitty-boys]

//sober thoughts. kuroo tetsurou//

Warnings: slut shaming, vulgar language, swearing 

Word Count: 2K

Notes: I was listening to the Breath of the Wild soundtrack while working on this and now, I may or may not be planning on spending my weekend FINALLY beating the game on Master Mode

*Characters are aged up because I am a responsible adult who does not condone underage drinking*

*Read Part I - ‘Drunken Words’ HERE*

Honestly, he didn’t know what he was expecting when he sat down next to you in the lecture hall.  Maybe he was hoping that things would go back to how they used to be, before he made a total fool out of himself.  Maybe he was hoping that he’d be able to sit down and joke with you.  He was hoping that you’d start doodling little pictures in the margins of his notebook just like you always did when you were bored during lecture.  

But, he got none of those things.  He was welcomed by a cold silence, a quick glance up from your phone to recognize that he was there.  As he sits down in the seat next to yours, he watches you shift your body, leaning further away from him as if not wanting to be seen anywhere near him.

And who could blame you?  The videos of drunken Kuroo making all of those snide remarks, telling everyone about the relationship that you had with, had been circulating the campus all weekend.  Everywhere you went, you could feel the judgemental eyes on you, staring you down to punish you for your sins.  Even now, in a lecture hall filled with hundreds of students, people were turning their heads to get a glimpse of you and the fraternity brother who let all your secrets out after a few too many glasses.  Hushed whispers were filling the room as the rumors continued to grow and increase in severity.  Calling you any number of filthy names in the book.  

As if the guilt wasn’t already eating you alive.  The heartbreak that had crept into Daisho’s eyes as he realized that this wasn’t just Kuroo talking to talk felt like a punch to the gut.  He hadn’t even bothered to yell at you, he just walked upstairs, locking the door to his room.  You could’ve knocked on his door all night and he never would’ve answered.  You had sat outside for what seemed like hours before you heard the lock slide out of its place, the door creaking open ever so slightly as he poked his head out.  His eyes had been trained at the floor, refusing to meet your gaze.  But, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, there was no mistaking the slight puffiness to his eyes or the tightness in his voice.

“I think you should just go.”

Nothing else.  He spoke six words to you and went back into his room, locking the door tightly behind him.  You didn’t know why it hurt as much as it did.  You had said yourself that you weren’t in love with him anymore, but seeing all of the pain etched on his face overwhelmed you with guilt and Daisho wasn’t even giving you the option to try to fix things.  It was over.  Plain and simple.

It didn’t matter how many times you tried to text or call him, each one was ignored.  You showed up at the house the next day to try to talk to him, but you were turned away at the door by one of the fraternity members.  You didn’t deserve it, but you wanted to see him one more time, try to leave things off on a better note, but he wasn’t having it.  All of the pictures of you that had been posted to his Instagram were gone by the end of the night.  He was already forgetting you, obviously having no intentions of trying to work this out.

And then there was Kuroo.  To everyone around him, he was perfectly normal.  He still had his normal kind smile plastered on his face as he greeted people on campus.  He was still able to laugh and joke, this entire weekend just being funny for him.  No one was belittling him or calling him a whore.  If anything, people were high-fiving him, congratulating him on getting Daisho’s girl.  Kuroo Tetsurou’s life hadn’t even shifted.  Sure, the extra shit he got from Daisho wasn’t fun, but it was bearable.  This whole thing was so easy for him.

At least, that’s how it looked from the outside.

If anyone were to get a look inside of his mind they would see the same scene playing in his mind, the loop never seeming to end.  That look of shock painted so sadly on your face as he finally said what he had been hinting at throughout his entire drunken rampage.  Those solemn eyes staring up at him, mouth open as if you wanted to say something, but then closing as you come to realize that nothing could save you.  He broke whatever trust had been built between the two of you and now, he was being pushed away as you put up another wall around yourself.  Kuroo was getting pats on the backs, fist-bumps, and high-fives from guys he didn’t even know.  They would simply say, “Man, I saw the video! Epic!” and leave him to carry on with his day, unaware of the guilt gnawing away at him, worsened by the fact that it seemed that everyone around him had seen that stupid video.  

So, when he sat down next to you, he wasn’t expecting to be completely ignored, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised either.  But, you both carried on throughout the class like normal, silently taking notes, glancing over at the other’s notebook to copy something missed, phones being checked for the time every few minutes.  

1:51 p.m.

The sounds of students shuffling to put their books away echoes throughout the lecture hall, quiet conversations being held between friends filling the air. But, nothing could fill the awkward silence that enveloped the area that surrounded you both.  It’s not like he wanted to stand there in silence, eyes locked on you trying to fit your binder back into your bag, but what was he supposed to say?

“Kuroo?”

Amber eyes snap up to meet yours and he sees you adjusting your bag onto your shoulders.  He’s pulled out of whatever mental games that he had been playing with himself, expecting you to start the conversation that he had been anticipating all weekend.  But, his “Yeah?” was only met with:

“You’re blocking the aisle.”

“Oh, right, yeah.  Sorry, about that,” he mutters, shouldering his own bag to move out of your way.  But, the slight bounce to your hair as you walked away, the soft pat pat pat of your well-loved sneakers against the tile floor, the various enamel pins that you had stuck to your bag, glinting off the harsh lighting of the classroom.  He wasn’t ready to let all of that go just yet.  He wasn’t ready to let go of all of the time that he had spent with you.  Kuroo wasn’t ready to let go of you.

Before he could even second guess himself, Kuroo’s fingers wrap around your wrist, keeping you from moving another step away from him.  “Y/N.”

“Kuroo, let me go.  I have class.”

“No, you don’t.  It’s Tuesday and on Tuesday’s you have Italian in the morning, you used to go take a nap at the house afterwards, and then we’d walk to lecture together.  Don’t lie to me.”

“Well, don’t you have class?  You should get going,” you argue, trying to get out of his grasp, but Kuroo’s fingers only tighten around your wrist.   

“I’ll be late.  I don’t care.  Please, can we just talk?”

“What the hell is there to talk about, Kuroo?  Do you want to call me a bitch?  A slut?  There’s nothing to talk about as far as I’m concerned.  I’m done!  Do you know how many random guys are harassing me, asking if I can give them head, see if I’m as good as you say I am?  You may just get to laugh Friday night off, but I can’t!”

“I’m so-”

“I don’t care!  Your apologies aren’t going to make this all magically disappear.  This whole thing was a mistake, Kuroo.  I threw everything away.  I was stupid and now Suguru hates me.  He won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me!”

“But, didn’t you say-”

“I know what I said!  I know that I told you that I didn’t love him, but you should’ve seen him, Kuroo.  I don’t remember the last time that I’ve seen him so upset and knowing that he was that hurt because I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life? Seeing him so close to me, but so stupidly far away, because he didn’t want anything to do with me? That hurt and it still hurts.”  You pause, turning away from him.  A little laugh leaves your lips.  “You just- You wouldn’t understand.”

The grip that Kuroo has on your wrist releases as he drops his hand down to his side.  “I wouldn’t understand?  What makes you think that?  Just because I didn’t cheat on my high school boyfriend, doesn’t mean that I feel good about what happened either!”

“You ruined a relationship with someone that you already didn’t like.  Do you want me to buy you ice cream for your loss?”  You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.  “I know that after all of this, it probably seems like I don’t care about him, but I really do.  He- he was good to me and he didn’t deserve this, but I fucked up and now I can’t do anything to fix it,” you say, your voice straining to get through your sentences without falling apart as all of the shame comes bubbling back up.  “I hurt someone that I cared about, Kuroo.”

“What?  And you think I didn’t?  Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t buy you coffee after lab because I just want to be your friend.  I don’t put granola bars in my bag because I know you always wake up too late to eat before class, because I just think of you as someone that I’m sleeping with.  I don’t carry around a pack of your favorite pens for me.  Whether you like it or not, I love you.  And I know that this is the worst possible time to say it, but I love you and I was too stupidly drunk to realize that I was hurting you before it was too late.”  Kuroo runs his hand through his hair, exasperatedly pushing his fringe back.  “I keep thinking about how sad you looked and every time I see that in my head, it feels like someone just stabbed me in the heart.  I know that my apologies aren’t going to fix a damn thing, but I’m sorry, Y/N, really.  And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re any of those things that people are calling you.  I still think that you’re the same person that I fell in love with.”

His words catch you off guard.  After everything, Kuroo Tetsurou is professing his love to you in the middle of a poorly lit university building, students slowing down as they try to overhear what’s going on between the two of you.   Part of you already knew it deep down, but you had hoped that his feelings would just go away and your arrangement could go back to what it was meant to be.  Seeing that you were likely not to give him an answer, Kuroo spoke up once more before turning to leave you.

“I know that I can’t tell you what to do, but I care about you, really.  So, remember, that I’ll always be in your corner.  I want it to be us versus the world, but I’m okay with just supporting you from the sidelines.  I just want you to be happy, okay?”

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

** Writing Challenge **

I know, I know, my next one isn’t quite wrapped up yet, buttttt this idea came to me when my cousin and I were taking a walk down a ridiculous part of Memory Lane and I got excited. I’m guessing this has been done before at some point -- that’s not stopping me from presenting to you: 

I love fluff. And I wanna see more of it! 

Below the cut you will find some prompts that, in the context of Twilight, are absolutely cringe-worthy. My challenge to you is to take that prompt and make it something we can love. 

Disclaimer: I’m not Twilight-shaming ANYONE. I literally sat and watched all of Eclipse and now want to watch both Breaking Dawns. It’s more about sentiment, and the occasional girly giggle for me, but ... yeah. No judgement here, friends. 

Guidelines, prompts, and tags are below the cut! (Yes, I copied and tweaked from my last writing challenge. I’m being efficient, thank you! :P )

Please read all of the information carefully!

Rules, Guidelines, Important Dates:

Sign-Ups start when this post is live and will go through to December 30, 2020. I will accept two people for each prompt, one prompt per author.

Please send your sign-ups to my ask box so they’re easier to keep track of. I will answer them privately so I’m not flooding anyone’s dash!

In your ask, please include your preferred prompt and a backup option, as well as your pairing (so I don’t take the same pairing for the same prompt). Also, please let me know if you’ll be posting from a URL other than one you’re asking from.

To be included in the challenge masterlist, please post your fic (or the first part, if it’s a series) by Decemeber 31, 2020.

Please include an author’s note tagging me and mentioning the challenge in your fic post; include #BetterThanTwilightWC in the first five tags. If the tag doesn’t work, you may DM the link to me, also. If you decide to write a series, please tag me in the masterlist.

Please give me up to 48 hours to read your fic before checking if I have seen it. If I have not liked it after 48 hours, please DO check. (You know, since we’re all aware of how unreliable tumblr is. And how unreliable my mind can be. Yikes.)

The challenge masterlist will be posted between January 1 and January 4, 2020.

There are no word count limits, but please use the Keep Reading feature if your story goes beyond 500 words. Additionally, if your fic goes beyond 5000 words, please consider splitting it into multiple parts. This is not a requirement, only something to think about.

Yes, this is a FLUFF challenge, so you MUST have fluff as your main genre. You’re more than welcome to include other genres, but you MUST have a happy and/or hopeful ending.

You’re welcome to think outside of the box! Just because I’m talking Twilight and love stories, doesn’t mean there has to be romance! Give me  amazing friendships or strong family bonds or self-love. Or romance! Whatever you’d like. 

You're welcome to change pronouns in the prompt as necessary! Heck, I tweaked a few of ‘em so they’re not Twilight-specific.

For personal reasons, I do not read and will not accept into the challenge (which means I will not reblog or add to the masterlist) stories that include: non-con/dub-con, underage sex, adult-child romantic/sexual relationships, spouse-bashing, child abuse – I could go on, but I think you get the idea. If you’re not sure about something, I’m always happy to answer questions!

Bring on the ships, OC’s, reader pairings – I’m trying to be more open-minded as of late, but I can’t promise that I will read everything. Again, for personal reasons. But I will reblog everything! 

Characters and RPFs from Marvel/MCU are both welcome. 

If you need an extension or need to drop out, please know that I am extremely flexible when it comes to that deadline/due date. In the words of Captain Barbosa, “It’s really more of a guideline.” Just shoot me an ask or a message and we’ll work something out, no worries! 

Prompts: 

1. “I have always loved you, and I will always love you.”  2. “The clouds I can handle. But I can’t fight with an eclipse.”  3. “I know what you are.”  4. “You held out your hand and I took it without stopping to make sense of what I was doing.” 5. “You have a connection with her that I’ll never understand.” 6. “I’m glad she has you.” 7. “It will be like I never existed. I promise.” 8. “I knew who I wanted to be. I wanted to help people. Brings me happiness.” 9. “That will take a while to get used to.” “We have a while.” 10. “What if I’m not the hero? What if I’m the bad guy?” 11. “I’d rather hear your theories.” 12. (sarcastically) “Super. That makes me really happy.” 13. “You’re like my own personal brand of heroin.” 14. “Maybe I shouldn’t be dating such an old man. It’s gross. I should be thoroughly repulsed.” 15. “It’s an extraordinary thing to meet someone who you can bare your soul to and they’ll accept you for what you are.” 16. “I’ve been waiting for what seems like a very long time to get beyond what I am.” 17. “I feel like I can finally begin.” 18. “He’s totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently nobody here is good enough for him.” 19. “He did say I couldn’t step inside the door. I came in through the window.” 20. “I know things. Like how to hunt somebody to the ends of the earth. And I know how to use a gun.” 21. “Now I’m afraid.” “Good.” 22. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m only afraid of losing you.” 23.  “About three things I was absolutely positive ...” 24. “You’re so stubborn.” 25. “Do you know how worried I’ve been?” 26. “I can’t even think about someone hurting you.” 27. “The only thing that can hurt me is you, and I don’t have anything else to be afraid of.” 28. “Don’t antagonize her. She’s the strongest one in the house.” 29. “All right. That’s enough experimenting for one day.” 30. “It never made sense for you to love me.” 31. “I wish there had been someone to vote no for me.” 32. “It’s just a little baby.” 33. “How strongly are you opposed to grand theft auto?” 34. “I’m not missing another fight!” 35. “No one can hide like me.” 36. “If I asked you to stay in the car, would you?” 37. “I have one condition, if you want me to do it myself.” 38. “I had an adrenaline rush. It’s very common. You can Google it.” 39. “How did you get in here?” “The window.” 40. “I love a happy ending. They are so rare.” 41. “You should put your seatbelt on.” 42. “Can you talk about something else? Distract me so I won’t turn around.” 43. “I can’t live in a world where you don’t exist.” 44. “After all the thousand times I’ve told you I love you, how could you let one word break your faith in me?” 45. “Maybe that’s why they kicked me out.” 46. “All of my best nights have happened since I met you.” 47. “You know everybody’s staring?” “Not that guy ... no, he just looked.” 48. “She wishes she was that awesome.” 49. “Does he visit often?” “Yeah, all the time.” 50. “Lie ... Lie better.” 51. “I’m Switzerland.” 52. “That should have been our first kiss.” 53. “Would you like to hear my story? It doesn’t have a happy ending -- but which of ours does?” 54. “Another party?” “It’ll be fun.” “Yeah. That’s what you said last time.” 55. “You are the only one who has ever touched my heart. I will always be yours.” 56. “The way he watches you. It’s like he’s willing to leap in front of you and take a bullet or something.” 57. “Kill me! Not him!” 58. “Stay.” “Give me one good reason.” 59. “Yeah, it’s and off day when I don’t get somebody telling me how edible I smell.” 60. “Damn it! You’ll be the death of me, I swear you will.” 61. “If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I’m not afraid of it.” 62. “Do I dazzle you?” 63. “I’m tired of trying to stay away from you.” 64. “Bring on the shackles, I’m your prisoner.” 65. “You are my life now.” 66. “And then we continued blissfully into this small, perfect piece of our forever.” 67. “Nobody’s ever loved someone as much as I love you.” 68. “I don’t know what happened.” “You love him.” 69. “All of sudden it’s not gravity holding you to the planet, it’s her. Nothing else matters. You would do anything, be anything for her.” 70. “You really love her?” 71. “I don’t see the whole point of the rest of the world without her.” 72. “Then I found a promising site ... I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicked closed each ad that flashed across the screen. Finally, the screen finished -- simple, white background with black text; academic-looking. Two quotes greeted me on the homepage:” 73. “I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.” 74. “I’ll be fighting for her, too, and I’ll be fighting twice as hard as you will.” 75. “It’s always been him.” 76. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” 77. “They’re coming for her.” “They’re not gonna touch her.” 78. “Doesn’t he own a shirt?” 79. “You know, if it weren’t for the fact that we’re enemies and that you’re also trying to steal away the reason for my existence, I might actually like you.” 80. “You have disappeared. Like everything else.” 81. “The absence of him is everywhere I look.” 82. “I don’t have the strength to stay away from you anymore.” 83. “Your number was up the first time I met you.” 84. “We all like to drive fast.” 85. “It’s too easy to be myself with you.” 86. “I’ve never given much thought to how I’d die, but dying in the place of someone I love seems like a good way to go.” 87. “Don’t tempt me too far. My patience isn’t that perfect.” 88. “His tone questions my sanity, but it only made me more suspicious. It was like a perfect delivered line by a skilled actor.” 89. “What’s he mad about?” 90. “No measure of time with you will ever be enough.” 91. “I promise to love you forever, every single day of forever.” 92. “We’re gonna be great friends!” 93. “If I had my way, I would spend the majority of my time kissing him.” 94. “Until your heart stops beating.” 95. “I touched the cool miracle of his ski, and I was home.” 96. “Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk.” 97. “This isn’t the time to make hard and fast decisions. This is the time to make mistakes.” 98. “Leave it to you ... you have to start hanging out with the first weirdos you can find.” 99. “I love him much more than I should, and yet still nowhere near enough.” 100. “I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes.”

Tags for possible interest/signal boosting (if you’re so inclined): 

 @captain-s-rogers​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @horsesandbandsforlife​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @shynara51​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @sea040561​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @pinknerdpanda​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xtina2191​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jackryanplz​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @beakami​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @heartsaved​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @shield-agent78​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @jennmurawski13​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too​​​​​​​​​​​​​

[purplellamanator]

Hello 👋 I was tagged by @fanarain 💜 thanks for the tag!

1. Why did you choose your url?

Honestly? I’m terrible at making usernames. Like horrendous. I’m always lost as to what to make it. So I made it in a split decision based off things I was thinking about or doing that day. My favorite color is purple, I had an inside joke with a friend about llamas, and at the time was watching terminator 2 judgement day. So I combined it all. 😂

2. Any side blogs? If you have any, name them!

This is actually my side blog. @the-iron-tator is my main but I don’t do much on or with it! I probably honestly should’ve made side blogs for my different fandoms cause I know people only follow me for certain things, but it’s too much to keep up for me 🤷‍♀️

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I honestly have no idea. If there’s a way to figure that out, I’m not sure how 😂 it’s been awhile tho. I wanna say I had this side blog since the beginning of 2019 cause I made it specifically to post my fanfic. But I had the main for way longer I think.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

I don’t think so 😬

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

So I started this side blog specifically so I could write and post my fanfic without shame. Also so that it could be a feed for all the fanfic I found and loved reading on here. Another reason why I never made another side blog. Cause I wanted all my fandom stuff on one page for me.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

Because The Little Mermaid has been and will always be my favorite Disney movie.

7. Why did you choose your header?

I really have no actual answer for this 😂 I was making the side blog and realized I needed one and so that’s what was on my camera roll for some reason 😅 and it made me nostalgic for when I was younger 😂

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

I actually have no clue. I know someone mentioned a way to figure this out but I can’t remember. I’m pretty sure it’s some drabble I posted on here for asks! Maybe the Wild West one for shinran?

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I think quite a few! We all pop in and go sometimes! I’d like to think quite a bit of em!

10. How many followers do you have?

So this side blog has 228! May not look like much for some but that’s a lot to me and I’m surprised but extremely thankful that people take the time to look at my page 😊

11. How many people do you follow?

194!! I think some of the accounts are probably dead by now but oh well! If you have even just some of my interests, I will probably follow and spam with reblog a and stuff 😂 yes I’m one of those

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

No? I don’t think so. . .

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

A LOT. Too much to put an honest time on 😂

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog before? If so, who won?

Nope. Don’t like fights. This is a place of fandom. I try to keep that out.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

So honestly, they are a bit annoying. I actually won’t do some of them for that reason unless it’s a cause or reason I strongly agree with. Which isn’t normally the case. Or rather, this is a fandom blog. No one wants to see that clogging up the page when all you wanna do is reason some fanfic or look at some fanart. I like to keep that kind of stuff off. Also cause sometimes people don’t agree with you. But I never liked that. That if you don’t ‘reblog a post’ your an ass or something. Like no. If anything, that steers people away from what you want. Or similar to the posts where they are like, don’t even talk to me if you like x,y, or z. Like okay 🤷‍♀️ that doesn’t hurt anybody but you. 😂 sometimes, even if I agree that I don’t like x, y, or z, I’ll unfollow or stay away because that just gives a certain attitude that I don’t vibe with. Just like I’m sure there are people that don’t vibe well with me 🤷‍♀️

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes! They are fun and even if no one reads your response, it’s nice to get thoughts out sometimes!

17. Do you like ask games?

Let’s just be clear and say that I like games in general 😂

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

All of them! I think they are all popular in their own way! I probably wouldn’t of found them otherwise!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Negative

Sorry! I am still working and on break! Can’t tag anyone but if you see this and wanna join, feel free to do so and tag me so I can see 👀

[informationsorter]

What is 3 stage therapy?

You may often hear people talk about 3 stage or 3 phase therapy. Maybe you’ve heard someone say “I’ve been doing a lot of stage 2 work in therapy lately”. This refers to “ PHASE-ORIENTED TREATMENT APPROACH “ as laid out in the ISSTD treatment guide. This is a guide that therapists follow for the treatment of DID/OSDD. *This post is very long, but I have tried to break it into sections to make it easier.* The guide states: “ Over the past two decades, the consensus of experts is that complex trauma-related disorders—including DID—are most appropriately treated in sequenced stages. “ This has been advocated for since at least the late 19th century. “ The most common structure across the field consists of three phases or stages: 1. Establishing safety, stabilization, and symptom reduction; 2. Confronting, working through, and integrating traumatic memories; and 3. Identity integration and rehabilitation. “ This roughly means that phase 1 work relates to your “general” therapy. Helping you get our ducks in a row, ready to begin stage 2. Stage 2 is about addressing the trauma you’ve experienced. This is tough and emotionally gruelling work, and it is highly recommended that you do not attempt this type of work without a trained and trusted mental health professional. Stage 3 is about “integration” - this does not necessarily mean fusing the identities into one state of self. It can simply refer to developing a healthy and cooperative harmony between a person’s identities/alters. “In addition to PTSD symptoms, persons with complex PTSD have major difficulties with dissociation, affect regulation, body image distortions, self-injury, chronic suicidality, and somatization. They may have substantial relational pathologies, including problems with trust and revictimization in violent or abusive relationships. They often view the world as dangerous and traumatizing and tend to see themselves as shameful, damaged, and responsible for their own abuse.”   Now what does this hefty paragraph mean? Well, in layman’s terms it means “we’re fucked up bro”. If you have childhood trauma and/or PTSD, in addition to the PTSD symptoms a person with DID/OSDD will likely have some/many of the following issues: - dissociate - have unstable emotional or logic states - have an incorrect view of their physical appearance (including dysmorphia, dysphoria, anorexia) - self harm - suicidal ideation (that is: wanting to die, or fantasising about killing oneself) - comorbid disorders - trust issues - revictimization (that is: putting yourself intentionally or unintentionally into abusive situations, particularly abusive relationships) - chronic shame and - a deep “need” to blame themselves for what happened to them. These are all issues which need to be addressed in therapy. Sometimes you may need a network of health professionals to help you heal. These could include a General Practitioner (Doctor), psychotherapist, trauma specialist, a specialist in sexual disorders, a nutritionist, psychiatrist, speech therapist, behavioural therapist, and more. It is important that any of your treating health professionals work together towards your best interests, and that you can trust them.

“ Treatment for complex PTSD resembles that of DID in that it is often of longer duration, is multimodal and relatively eclectic, and is designed to address the multitude of clinical difficulties with which these patients struggle.  “ This means that the treatment for PTSD and the treatment for DID/OSDD will be similar, and will take place over a long time period. The frequency of your sessions is between you and your treating health professional/s, but you shouldn’t expect to see a miracle overnight. For many it takes years of therapy before they even start stage 2 work. It’s not a race, you can’t rush it, and there is no reason to compare your healing journey to others’.

“ Phase 1: Establishing Safety, Stabilization, and Symptom Reduction

In the initial phase of treatment, emphasis should be placed on establishing a therapeutic alliance, educating patients about diagnosis and symptoms, and explaining the process of treatment. The goals of Phase 1 treatment include maintaining personal safety, controlling symptoms, modulating affect, building stress tolerance, enhancing basic life functioning, and building or improving relational capacities “

Phase one will start your healing journey at whatever pace is right for you, and will lay the foundation for phase two work.

This is important because in phase two work, you may become overwhelmed, and you will need to rely on the skills you developed in phase one, as well as relying at times on the trust you’ve built with your therapist.

“ Phase 2: Confronting, Working Through, and Integrating Traumatic Memories

In this phase of treatment, the focus turns to working with the DID patient’s memories of traumatic experiences. Effective work in this phase involves remembering, tolerating, processing, and integrating overwhelming past events. This work includes the process of abreaction—the release of strong emotions in connection with an experience or perception (usually a past experience or perceptions of a past experience) “

Phase two is about facing the ghosts of your past, under the guidance of your trusted therapist. It will be hard, and it may even feel like it’s too much and you can’t do it.

If you are feeling like you can’t handle it, you MUST tell your therapist.

You should never push through without letting your therapist know how you are feeling. Your therapist will help you assess what changes need to be made so that you can continue getting the most out of therapy.

Some common changes are:

- extending the length of a therapy session, to include a cool-down or recovery period

- strengthening coping mechanisms which may not be “strong” enough

- changing the frequency of sessions

“ Phase 3: Integration and Rehabilitation

In Phase 3 of DID treatment, patients make additional gains in internal cooperation, coordinated functioning, and integration. They usually begin to achieve a more solid and stable sense of self and sense of how they relate to others and to the outside world. In this phase, DID patients may continue to fuse alternate identities and improve their functioning. They may also need to revisit their trauma history from a more unified perspective. “

Phase three is the phase where you will really have to decide whether to “

fuse

” all alters, or whether you want 

“functional multiplicity”

.

The guidelines allow for both of these options, so don’t be scared that your therapist will try to force one or the other.

There is also no judgement about which one you choose - it’s about what is right for you (/your system).

In phase three you will tighten up the skills you already learnt, and possibly relearn them from a new perspective.

Some alters may not have learnt or mastered the therapy skills that other alters have, which means these skills may need to be learnt again.

If some or all of your alters decide to “fuse”, the resulting identity/identities may need to relearn some of these skills as well.

* All quotes taken from: https://www.isst-d.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/GUIDELINES_REVISED2011.pdf *

If you would like a more detailed look at what each phase may contain, please visit:

Stage one work: www.dis-sos.com/trauma-therapy-stabilization/ Stage two work: www.dis-sos.com/trauma-work/

[mattzerella-sticks]

A Healing Touch/New Experiences

15x17 coda, Post-Finale, Dean/Cas, Adam, Serafina, Sam, Jack, 2/2 chapters, 4.7k

Chapter 1: A Healing Touch (ao3 link)

Maybe if Cas hadn't abandoned him, he wouldn't have agreed to Adam's offer. But with free will finally theirs, Cas made his choice, and Dean his. Now he has to live with the consequences - even if they are awkward. He won't die from it, certainly.

It's only a massage.

But what Dean doesn't know, is that it's more than a massage. It's healing.

           Dean’s grip tensed on the towel, pulling its fabric closer against his waist. Terrycloth rubbing his crotch like sandpaper, making him even more aware of his current state of undress than he already was.

           Damn Adam, for talking him into this. The placid cadence of the First Man wreaked havoc with Dean’s judgement. Lulled him into a false sense of security. Now that his armor’s been cast off, Dean realizes how terrible an idea this really is. Briefly, Dean considers turning tail and jumping back into his outfit. Pretend this never happened. Play dumb. But then Adam emerges, parting the beaded curtains and motioning him towards a table set up in the middle of the room. Dean trudges along, window of opportunity slammed on his fingers.

           “Relax Dean,” Adam croons, lighting one of the many candles that surrounds the room. Interspersed with crystals, totems, and an incense stick that suspiciously smells like a VW van at a concert. “This is going to be a transcendent experience.”

           “If you say so…” He sits, kicking his feet. Hunched over, spine protesting from the angle. Ignores twinging pain with practiced ease.

           Doesn’t matter how well he masks it in the other man’s presence; Adam arches a brow at Dean and orders him to lay down. “You’ll feel better that way.”

           He stills, clutching at the towel with both hands. Frozen with an unnamed emotion Dean swears isn’t fear. Staring with wide eyes at Adam while the other man waits. Finally, he breaks the silence, “Can’t you just… do my shoulders?”

           “I will,” Adam promises, drifting closer, “Along with your sides… your back… anywhere I believe you might need.” He brushes featherlight fingers across his chin, a scant distance from actually touching it. Lips stretched in a lazy smile. “If it’ll make you more comfortable, though, I’ll look away while you get settled.”

           Dean clears his throat, gaze darting away. “You will?”

           “While I don’t agree with your shame,” he says, pulling back, “I understand it. How it works. So, when you’re ready to start, let me know.” Adam spins on his heel, grabbing for tinctures and potions on a nearby counter. Mixes them. Feigns busyness while Dean readies himself.

           He slides off the table, glancing from Adam to the exit. Wonders if he can sprint fast enough, snatch his clothes, and jump into his Baby. Put Santa Fe in his rearview, even if it meant leaving Cas. Finding a new path home would serve him right, abandoning Dean immediately for Serafina. Former and current angel leaving for lunch, catching up after millennia apart. Dean stuck with Adam. Biding time, making awkward small talk; listening as he rambled on about differing memories patchworked together while he played hopscotch through his timeline. So bored and confused he didn’t realize what Adam offered until he locked the bathroom door behind Dean, instructions rattling around in his head. Towel in his arms instead of around his waist.

           “Dean,” Adam chimes in, laughing, “I’m almost done.”

           Thinking, not acting, wasted too much time. No other options left Dean unfastened his towel. Held it while he climbed onto the table, carefully lying down. Adjusting his junk so his weight wouldn’t crush it. Then, face pressed into the appropriate hole, Dean fixed the towel. End hanging off the edges, censored his freckled ass from view. “Okay,” he says, croaking the next few words out. “I’m all set.”

           “Perfect.”

           Dean nearly asks when Adam will start. As soon as the question forms in his throat, he swallows it. Adam’s wet, warm touch sliding over his back. Spreads a slick substance that makes his skin goosepimple when the air meets it. Elicits a sudden, breathy response from Dean. “Sorry,” Adam apologizes, continuing his ministrations, “probably should’ve warned you?”

           “Would’ve been nice…”

           “Well, we can’t go back, now can we?” He kneads Dean’s shoulders, loosening a tight muscle with his thumb. “Let me do all the work…” Adam speaks aloud, calling on a nearby smart device. Tells it to play a certain playlist, whining strums pouring from his speakers. Dean rolls his eyes. The added hippie music only pours salt in the wound. “You’ve got a lot of knots, Dean.”

           “I’m not surprised,” Dean says, “the stuff I do? My body’s been through the wringer.”

           “You should take better care of your body, Dean. We only get the one.”

           “Yeah, we do…” Dean sighs, shifting. Too aware of Adam’s touch. Counting the differences between his expectations and the reality. They’re softer than what he expected a man’s hands should feel like. And gentler. These motions were more tender than Dean was used to, especially from a stranger. Part of him wants this over with, while a stronger, quieter part begs for more. He shifts, squirming. “Hey, what’s this you’re rubbing me with?”

           “Oh, the oil?” Adam laughs, pinching his sides, “I had it specially delivered from some small town I last visited years ago, in Morocco. When it was all the rage, kids fleeing for the East in search of enlightenment. This herbalist was teaching in the streets…”

           Dean tunes Adam out like he did the music, drowning his voice in the waves of his mind. Lets it sink deep below while Dean splashes around shallower waters. Like how this trip was planned.

           After Chuck, after the Empty – after their last cosmic showdown, the Winchesters faced a new challenge. An ordinary day. It’s been years since Dean could wake without worrying he forgot something. Walk and not look over his shoulder, at where he imagined someone with vengeance in their eyes and death in his future. Greet his family and not doubt that he will see them later.

           It’s everything Dean wanted. Except he couldn’t handle it.

           Sitting at the breakfast table, his family discussing pointless, trivial affairs, Dean broke. Maybe because of Sam’s bright smile while talking about a road trip he planned with Eileen, or Jack’s list of shows he wanted to watch. Maybe it was when he caught Cas’s gaze, his foot nudging at Dean’s, with a well of emotions Dean hadn’t deserved. Similar to that horrid night, although less sadness darkening his expression. Less blood staining his hands. Dean flashed between those two images and stood, hitting his knee on the table. Left with a meager and suspicious excuse.

           Somehow, an endless cycle of near-death experiences made things simpler. Being trapped in a never-ending story meant exactly that. They would live forever. Exist in the unknown, remain unchanged.

           Now that freedom is truly his, what will he do? How will he end? Will he become someone he doesn’t like? Will people he thought would stay forever slip out of his grasp? Does he go first and leave so many people behind?

           He couldn’t sleep those next few nights. Cas caught on after his third bout with insomnia, bags heavy under his eyes. Looked across the canyon from his side of the bed, arms curled tight around himself. Chained there. “What’s wrong, Dean?” His fingers twitched in aborted need. Another easy piece that proved more difficult to fit into place. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

           Dean stared at Cas. Saw the streaks of grey that tickled his hairline, and little crusts around his eyes from sleep. Reminders of how fast things can change, and what little they have left in the tank. If Cas were an angel, he thought, they’d have more time. Can stay alive through his grace, healing even the littlest signs of age. Like Serafina did with Adam.

           It slipped out like a leak, and then poured free. Inch given; mile taken. Frantically repeating how he met the First Man who loved an angel, and they lived normal lives in Santa Fe, and they seemed weird but in love, and –

           “Okay,” Cas said, “we’ll go visit them.”

           “Dean,” Adam whispers. Dean creaks an eye open from below the surface. “Where were you just now?”

           His heart lurches. “Can’t really go anywhere, now can I?”

           “Only in the physical sense,” he tells Dean, “your body can be here, but you can also be a million miles away.” Adam kneads harder on his back, forcing a grunt through Dean’s clenched teeth as he poked a sore muscle. “What’s more important that you’ve allowed your mind to wander far from the present?” He stops massaging, bending. Meets Dean’s squinted gaze. “Would you rather not be here?”

           “What did I ever do to give that impression?”

           Adam doesn’t flinch from Dean’s bite, smirking at him. Followed by an airy laugh that sounds nicer than it should. “Y’know, my hands can only do so much,” he continues, standing. Clawing at Dean with blunt nails, repetitively raking patterns like he were a rock garden. “Massages are a give and take. I can only leech away what you’re willing to part with. And there’s a mountain of stress buried here you’re still holding onto.”

           “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean growls. Closing his eyes hard enough white, hot stars burst from behind his lids. “Maybe you’re a shitty masseuse?”

           “Nah, I’ve been doing this since Alexander the Great was in toga diapers. Can’t be that.”

           “Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you’re any good.”

           “That’s true.” Adam pinches Dean’s lower back, at the dip right where his ass curves from beneath the towel. Electricity jolts along his nerves, up his spine, and makes Dean bite his lip. “Then let’s say my intuition is sounding the alarm you’re blocked.”

           Dean snorts, “Then give me some Pepto and we’ll call it a day.” Another pinch. This time his knee jerks, foot jumping into the air. “Can you quit it?”

           “When you start taking this seriously.”

           “Sorry,” he says, each syllable drenched in sarcasm. “I didn’t think your types took anything seriously.”

           Adam places his hand on Dean’s neck. Touch shocks him enough he lifts his head, finding the other’s stern expression. “If not for me,” he says, “then Castiel.”

           He still feels Adam on his neck, and the second hand hangs at his side, shiny. Yet there must be a third. Because how else can Dean explain the pain in his side as anything other than a stab wound. Knife stuck there, cruelly twisted, cutting his insides further. Dean subtly nods, going slack. Adam guides his head back to its resting spot. Resumes petting him with much more severity. Each stroke like a match scraping against a striking surface, sparking but never lighting.

           “Do you feel my hands, Dean?”

           “Am I supposed to feel anything else?” Dean grouses, “Because if this is you coming onto me…”

           Adam squeezes Dean’s ass over the towel, Dean yelping. “Why I’ll admit you’re a beauty, my heart is spoken for. As is yours.”

           Dean waits as the coiled heat in his stomach unravels, breathing raggedly all the while. “Yeah,” he says, “I can feel your hands.”

           “Good,” Adam says, “and how do my hands on your body feel?”

           “Um… good? I guess? Like any other massage.”

           “You’ve gotten other massages before?”

           “When I could, I guess.”

           “And your masseuses,” Adam asks, coating more of the oil along his shoulders, “were any of them men.”

           No. “Why does that matter?”

           “I’m just asking,” Adam says, “guessing, actually, if your hesitation during this process has something to do with my gender expression.” He rubs at his biceps, fondling them. “So I’ll ask again – have you ever been massaged by a man.”

           He’s fought with countless men. Punches and kicks and elbows at throats acceptable foreplay. Love bites that stung far too long, bled too much. Shook hands with many hunters while crossing America during his early years where he was figuring himself out. Their intimidating grip thrilling Dean more than they should while near his father. John’s idea of what makes a man still living in his mind, a shadow that won’t disappear no matter how many curtains he draws or lights he turns on. Persistent.

           Sometimes Cas’s hand lingered, back when their relationship was new. Finding its footing despite Chuck’s story. He blamed it on his angel’s inexperience with humanity. But the more he stayed on Earth, the longer they lasted. More significant. A game of chicken, each daring the other to drop first.

           That’s the most intimate he’s ever been with another man.

           It’s been too long since he and Cas touched like that. Circling, never committing. Losing before the game starts.

           “I…” Adam’s touch feels different, headier. Matchhead catching, flame bursting atop it. He sighs, “I’ve never been massaged by a man.”

           Adam hums, “You’ve never had the opportunity?”

           “I’m pretty sure I’ve had lots of opportunities,” Dean tells him, “I just… never took them.” He shrugs as best he can. Sighing when Adam brushes one of his love handles, scratching it. Warm delight making Dean’s toes curl. “It wasn’t something a guy like me was supposed to do.”

           “Supposed to,” Adam parrots, “someone else was making these decisions for you?”

           Bristling, Dean shifts as if to raise his head again. Adam shoves at Dean, keeping him there. Adds an ounce of pressure that should stoke his anger. However, Dean responds with no retaliation. Stills, and when Adam removes his hand, continues talking. “I made these decisions,” Dean tells Adam, “I… there were a lot of expectations, being me. People I couldn’t disappoint. If they knew I went to get… massages, by men… things might not have been the same.”

           “Even if it hurt denying this part of yourself?” he asks, “Suffocating it because other people had opinions on how you should live your life?”

           Dean scowls despite how dedicated Adam works at kneading the skin above his tailbone. “You wouldn’t understand, okay. Being the first person gives you leeway, make your own rules. I was born into a certain role – there was an image I had to fit. If I wanted to survive and I… and it got easy, over time. I wasn’t hurting anyone –“

           “You were hurting yourself.”

           “I’m used to it.”

           Adam reacts violently, nicking Dean’s hip hard enough he expects blood. But his thumb soothes the spot, caresses it far more lovingly than Dean thinks is appropriate. He doesn’t voice his concerns. Busy thinking about the sudden callouses he feels on Adam’s thumb.

           “That’s a dangerous point of view to have, Dean,” Adam warns, drawing him from the off-ramp. “How can you speak so carelessly about yourself like that?”

           “I… I – uh…” Dean had a response. A common one he trotted out whenever a question like this appeared. Now, he finds the stable empty. He has nothing. “I…”

           “You’ve been given a wonderful gift, Dean. The gift called life. Gone are the oppressive forces steering your judgement. Controlling how you grow.” Adam’s voice rises, passion seeping into his skin. Mixing with the oils, providing a euphoric numbness. “Now is when you should slash through those bindings and grow into the person you were always meant to be!”

           “What if I…”

           “Hmm?” Adam stops massaging him. The music ended at some point, leaving only silence. “What if you what?”

           Dean slowly rises from the face hole, Adam not fighting him this time. Leans on his elbows, staring at the floor. At the small droplet that splattered there. “What if I don’t like that person?” he mutters, “What if I look in the mirror one morning and I don’t… don’t recognize that it’s my reflection. What if I become someone so wholly different now that I… now that I can grow, and change, that I lose parts of myself. Lose my family, because they don’t like who I’ve become?”

           Adam’s hand rests on his shoulder, fingers curling over a spot that doesn’t belong to him. When other people touched it, his skin crawled. Itched like fire ants crawled and bit. It’s the opposite feeling, with Adam’s hand. As if Dean’s soul breached through the shadows and filled him with so much light, he could overpower the sun. But only one other person has ever made him feel like that…

           “If your family truly loves you, Dean,” Adam says, stepping into view. Guides Dean’s gaze from his feet towards his face using both hands. Smiling, “Then they love your most core, basic parts of yourself. And those, I know, will stick with you as you journey into a new era of self-exploration. Just as they will. You shouldn’t be afraid of change. It is the most powerful force in existence. Change cannot be stopped, cannot be controlled… how we choose to respond to it, however, is where humanity finds its freedom.” He lets go, drifting backwards into Serafina’s waiting arms.

           There’s still a hand on his shoulder.

           Dean turns. Instead of a thin, linen shirt, there’s a starched white button-down. Blue tie where he expected a scarf and chunky necklace. Dark hair with touches of gray, and blue eyes rimmed red with tears. “Cas…”

           “Dean…” he says, squeezing his shoulder, “I love you. I… I won’t ever leave you.”

           “How can you promise that, Cas?” he asks, “How do you know that? We’ve… what if Chuck was the only thing keeping us together? What do we do now that he’s gone?”

           “We live Dean… day by day.” Cas kneels, pressing a thumb against his chin. “You’re right, I can’t be certain about the future. None of us can, not anymore. But, before Chuck, all I saw was bleakness. Now that he’s gone… after every hardship we’ve been through, the clouds have parted. It finally looks bright. And we could have a thousand more days or one more day, but in this moment Dean I want to experience everything with you.” He kisses him, breathing that promise into his body. Words mingling with his heart and soul. “My first, and most important act of rebellion was loving you. In these few years we’ve known each other I’ve lived more than I ever have. I’ve grown, not because of Chuck or despite of Chuck… but on my own terms. And you’re still here, with me.”

           “Cas I…” Dean knocks their foreheads together, “You’re someone I never expected entering my life… and if you left, I don’t know if I can go back to living without you. Every time you were taken from me I… part of me died. A part that never came back, even though you did. When the Empty took you, I thought that was it. If I lost you one more time… I fought so hard for this – to live by my terms that I… I don’t want to lose it. Lose you.”

           “Then don’t act like you already have,” Cas tells him. “Let me in. Let Sam and Jack… we’re all figuring this out together. Shoulder your burdens with us and we will do the same to you. That way we can enjoy our time together. And when one of us goes, the other will always have the memories of what we’ve won to remind us how the fight – how life was worth it.”

           Dean nods, dropping another kiss against Cas’s lips. Rises with Cas, uncaring that the towel fell. He already felt more exposed from this simple massage. Modesty seemed a… a moot point. Cas slips between Dean’s legs, wrapping him in a hug. Dean returns it.

           Then he looks at their voyeurs, watching from the sidelines. “Was this what you had planned all along?”

           “Before you came here,” Adam says, “I had a vision.”

           “…Right.”

           “And in that vision,” Serafina adds, swaying with Adam. Fingers threaded through his curls, petting him, while his oil-covered hands stained her patchwork skirt. “He saw you two sticking around for a few more days.”

           Dean arches a brow, huffing, “We do?”

           “Oh yes,” she says, “you’ve only just begun to heal, the both of you. It’s a process – like growth – that never really ends.” Serafina’s gaze darts from him to Cas, and back again. “Plus, if you stay, we can introduce you to some new things. Offer some wisdom from our many lifetimes on Earth that may prove… beneficial.”

           Dean and Cas share a silent conversation. He grins from that, knowing he can tilt his head or flutter his lashes and be understood completely. “Okay,” Dean answers, “it’s not like there’s anything else we need to be doing.”

           “Perfect!” She claps, “Oh I’ll – I’ll go put some tea on, and Adam can show you to our meditation room. We can spend the rest of the evening just sharing, maybe even fall asleep under the stars. In all of America, Adam and I’ve found they don’t shine quite like they do here.”

           Dean leans his head on Cas’s shoulder, listening as Serafina rambles about possible plans. Adam interjecting with his own ideas every now and then. Watching them, a strange feeling flutters inside his chest.

           He isn’t sure what to expect from hanging out at their commune or drinking their Kool-Aid. But, for the first time since they’ve closed the book on Chuck’s story… he’s excited.

(chapter 2)

[plum-pudding-and-honey]

MONTHLY RANGE : Eight & Charley & C’rizz (1/2)

Scherzo -  2.5/5 : So... I really don't know how to rate it. Because I recognise the brilliance of the thing (excellent way of using the audio medium, the sound creature was brilliantly creepy and the atmosphere is so cringy but in a good way? Also Paul McGann and India Fisher are excellent and they do have good chemistry together). But I'm not a fan of Eight/Charley so this was kinda … annoying? I liked how the Doctor/companion relationship is explored and I like the fact that companions are memento mori (a nicer way of saying "pets", the Master gets it) but I really hated the idea that Charley was the first one the Doctor really loved (lol no) because like Rose and Clara, Charley is supposed to be """special""" (the difference being that Rose and Clara actually believe that they are special, it's not the case for Charley which is why I don't hate her with all my guts like the other two) in her relationship to the Doctor. Each and every companion has a special relationship with the Doctor, no one is special and the Doctor (whatever the incarnation) loves them all. Period. So yeah, having them mopping for two hours about "You said you loved me, you didn't mean it", "But I love you", "No, I don't love but actually I do, I'm just trying to protect you." was annoying. Just say you love each other, kiss or whatever and move on, but don't linger on it for THREE episodes, thank you very much. And then in the last part, the Doctor admits that he loves all his companions, so yeah great, but what was the point of saying that Charley was the first one half an hour before except pissing me off greatly? Despite all this, this was still a good illustration of my Eight-treats-his-companions-like-shit thesis. (Also, forgot to mention, Eight at the beginning whining about loses his senses … annoyingly brillant and sent me huge Eleven vibes). So yeah, I love some of it and hate other bits, so I guess I'll settle for something in the middle, rating-wise.

The Creed of the Kromon -  2/5 : It was going well pretty much until the end first part. Then it became a huge disappointment. We have two female characters, Charley and L'da, and they're both reduced to being reproductive tools for the Big Bad Bugs of the week and despite saving L'da being C'rizz motivation from the beginning, he just shoots her when he finds her without even considering trying something else to help her, I mean it's not like she begged that bad. And then he's ready to do the same to Charley. Great. Way to go. I hope this trigger-happy tendency will be corrected soon because I do find him an interesting character - I mean he's rough around the edges but there's way for amazing character development so please don't screw this up. The chameleon concept is also great (and wouldn't work on visual medium, let's be honest). Consider me hooked up for the Kro'ka/C'rizz arc (which I don't remember at all btw so that will be like listening to it for the first time). Also, I have to add that Eight's laugh in this episode cleared my skin, watered my crops and all of this. Also! I’m glad to have a Doctor + two companions dynamic, I really love it

The Natural History of Fear -  4/5 : So this was weird. I mean most of Eight's adventures in the main range are weird but this is another level of weird. Like they're really taking meta to the next stage. I don't have much else to say to be honest, except that it was difficult to follow at times but that I obviously loved the 1984 vibes. THIS IS THE VOICE OF LIGHT CITY. WELCOME TO YOUR NEW WORK DAY. TODAY IS HIGH PRODUCTIVITY DAY. Also that end twist *shocked*

The Twilight Kingdom -  2.5/5 : That's not particularly memorable. It really struggles to keep us hooked up for two hours and it didn't really work for me : I've lost interest and let my mind drifted several times and I was still able-ish to understand what was going on. That's not a good sign, people. The interesting bit was at the end with the return of the Kro'ka and how the mystery thickens about this weird place. Also Eight yelling "RASSILLON" at the end … someone's mad at daddy. We get to know a bit more about C'rizz which is always good to take since last episode didn't offer us any insight on his person at all. There's something definitely shifty and not coherent at all about him, like he's supposed to be a pacifist monk and yet, he's a pretty violent lad (I mean, this episode doesn't really count, he was controlled, but in the Creed of the Kromon he's not particularly gentle), which he acknowledges himself (I mean it could just be that being enslaved by the Kromon changed the man that drastically, but still...)

Faith Stealer -  3.5/5 : Ah! Finally we learn a bit more about C'rizz and we address what the hell happened in the Creed of the Kromon. Although, did he just get brainwashed into getting rid of his guilt, just like that? Because if that's the case, I'm gonna be very disappointed. I mean, I don't want him to suffer or anything but it all seemed a bit easy. Also, yeah, poor C'rizz, easily manipulated and preyed on by pretty much anyone is this freaking universe - can anyone give him a break for a second please? (also, is strangling Charley going to be a recurring thing or what? Because that is NOT ok, writers, no matter how much Charley jokes about it afterwards). Anyway, the plot was ok, the multihaven (or whatever the name of this place was, I don't remember) is an interesting concept (even more relevant today) and I really liked the idea that it's completely ok for anyone to worship literally anything without judgement. 

The Last - 3/5 : Excelsior used a nuclear weapon to end a never-ending war and killed most of her people in the process? Excuse me? The unpredicted parallel with the Doctor and the Time War is up the roof people. And so I can't help thinking that this story would have been much better in a shorter version with a post Time War Doctor (can you see this with Nine, Rose and Jack? Because I definitely can and I'm not ok). Anyway. Charley doesn't get strangled this time but choked with a pillow. I don't know, do the writers have a kink about strangling/choking/killing women? And her death was the least credible possible with the Doctor moving on from it like twenty seconds after and absolutely not going into huge drama/self pity/extreme guilt mode, so you know she won't stay dead very long. I liked C'rizz very much here, he's actually growing on me much more than Charley. I like his loyalty and the fact that he has a much darker side, when it's actually well exploited.

Caerdroia - 5/5 : gfvbvgttybvgf THREE EIGHTS THREE EIGHTS T H R E E  E I G H T S it's more than I can take. Hmm. So, i love the first part where the Doctor takes a nap (he deserves it) and sass the Kro'ka into telling him where the TARDIS is. I love him. Then we gets three versions of Eight and that's when I completely lost it. I also quite liked the crazy vibe of this episode, which felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland (again). The labyrinth part (or is it a maze??) was quite well done and the fact that it feeds off the Doctor, Charley and C'rizz subconscious was a nice to get to know them a bit more (especially C'rizz, whose annoyance with Tigger!Eight was very relatable). Charley and Eeyore!Eight was also priceless to be honest. And finally, finally, we get the TARDIS back and yeeeah! Also the Kro'ka is a frog vbyvegbvfy I can't

The Next Life - 2/5 : Excuse me but did this thing need to be that sexist? I mean... even Eight was a bit borderline a couple of times. I hated Charley in this episode, I hated how quick she was to judge C'rizz and how jealous she is throughout this audio when she's never really struck me as being jealous, especially not of C'rizz of all people. And it's a shame, really, because I was starting to think that maybe, she was getting less annoying. And most of all I HATED how her interactions with Perfection were depicted, how they bicker about the Doctor and, like, I get that it makes sense with Perfection being Zagreus and all, but it was very poorly brought, and ... just no. Also Perfection's relationship with Kip ... brrrr. Again, no. The plot in itself was not particularly memorable. It ends the Divergent Universe arc properly, the idea of this universe being in a constant cycle was kinda interesting and made sense with everything we had learnt so far so that's that. It was also nice to get to know more about C'rizz and I really like him more than Charley, and I hope he'll have a proper chance to find out who he is now. I'm definitely disappointed with this audio, it was way too long and problematic. (Just kudos for the Grace reference ... and it's made me miss Grace so I might rewatch the movie as a treat)

Overall opinion : Well I’m glad this is over. The Divergent Universe was an interesting concept but the quality of the episodes overall wasn’t very good and the way women are treated/depicted here is just a big NO. Big kudos for Caerdroia which was a nice surprise. The Natural History of Fear and Faith Stealer are good too, not as much though, and the rest, I’ll probably forget very soon, just like I did the first time. The only good thing to come out of this is my boy C’rizz

[lunarapocolypse]

Shigaraki week: Day 1

Okay, something happened and I had to delete the original post, so let’s try this again!

Present/Wings/Rebirth

@shigarakiweek Thanks for helping me clean up Tenko, I appreciate it.” Aylin giggled, picking up confetti. The ravenette only nodded as he helped her.

“It’s no big deal, I had nothing better to do anyways.” He muttered.

“Still, thank you. I’m surprised you even came, to be honest.” She mused, sweeping the multicolored strands along with cake crumbs into a dustpan.  

“Why wouldn’t I come?”

“Because you don’t like parties?”

“I don’t, but you said there wouldn't be more than six people. I can tolerate that.” He scoffed. He paused for a moment before adding on. “And there was cake.” Aylin raised an eyebrow at that.

“So you were motivated by cake! That makes sense.” She replied, nodding. Tenko blushed lightly, narrowing his scarlet eyes.

“That wasn’t the only reason! I also wanted to come because it was your birthday party, and we’re friends.”

“Awww, really? That’s so sweet of you, I knew you had a soft spot for me!”

“Nevermind, we’re not friends anymore. You’re dead to me.”

“Wait no, Tenko! I was just teasing you!” Aylin replied, through a fit of giggles. She reached a hand out towards her friend, who turned away so she wouldn’t see the small smile forming on his face.

“Goodbye Aylin.”

“Nooo don’t leave me! Whatever will I do without you?” 

“Die.”

“I beggeth thee forgiveness,  o most wondrous one.  I hath been foolish to vex thee, wilt thou pardon mine own pitiful soul?” She spoke, dramatically propping one knee forward and lowering her head. Despite the ebony locks of hair obscuring her face, Tenko could tell she was smiling. 

“Hmm, I have one condition.”

“What might that be?”

“I get an extra slice of cake.” Aylin laughed as she raised her head.

“Why not? I should probably give you one anyways, for helping me.”

“Darn right you should.”

She laughed again, going back to sweeping with a small smile on her face. It was rare they saw each other outside of school, or more than once a day. Being  friends with differing college majors is difficult, but there's always time during lunch to meet and catch up.

There was a cherry tree right behind the school. Although it was supposedly  hard to find. Tenko had stumbled upon it on his first day and had been eating lunch there everyday. He wasn’t sure why, but that tree had a calming effect. It felt familiar to him, like he was home.He liked that feeling.

Aylin had found his special place a few weeks later, and it became their meeting spot. It was awkward at first since they were both socially anxious messes, but they eventually became best friends.

“It’s a shame Himiko couldn’t make it, I’ll drop by her place with some stuff later.” She sighed, snapping Tenko out of his thoughts.

“...Himiko?”

“One of my friends from middle school, she’s like a sister to me! She was invited, but got sick just the day before.” Aylin whined, pouting.

“Don’t you remember? I’ve talked to you about her a few times now.” Tenko blinked. Himiko…? The name was oddly familiar, and it held a sense of warmth. He could recall a sense of familiarity from that name… it was strange.

Then again, he had strange feelings a lot. 

“Huh? That’s weird I don’t remember.” He mumbled, shrugging.

“You’re so forgetful, Ten.”

“Says the one who forgot her own birthday until I mentioned it was a week away.”

“In my defense, my birthday is in the middle of exam prep time.”

“Your birthday is March 30.  Exams are late May.”

“I procrastinate on studying so I gotta start kinda early.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes sense to me!”

“Whatever.”

Tenko sighed, standing up. They were basically done cleaning, he’d be able to go home soon. He had a project due in a few days, he really needed to get started on that. He noticed a small wrapped present at the corner of his eyes. It was yellow, with a frilly orange ribbon.

“Hey, you unwrapped all the presents, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“There’s one near the window, It’s still wrapped.”

Aylin looked in the direction he was pointing in, frowning lightly upon seeing the vibrant colors.

“Huh? I got one from everyone though. And I even checked afterwards if I missed anything! That’s odd...can you bring it over?” He took the box in his hands, scratching his neck lightly as he handed it to her. She held it, chocolate brown eyes widening as she took a closer look.

“Tenko, this is addressed to you.””

“...What?”

“Look.” She showed him a tiny label attached to the ribbon. Sure enough, there was writing scribbled in a familiar handwriting.

To: Tenko Shimura

From: An old friend

“An old friend?” he questioned. He didn’t have many friends when he was younger, none that he was close to at least. Who could’ve sent this?

“This is kind of creepy...unless you know who might’ve sent it?” Aylin asked, looking up at him. Tenko shook his head.

“I..I don’t.”

She sighed, fiddling with the ribbon.

“Do you think we should open it? You can take it somewhere private if you don’t want me to see. Or we could just throw it. It’s your decision.” She said. She acted indifferent, but there was curiosity in her voice.

“I’ll open it here.” He wasn’t sure what was inside, but whatever it was he didn’t want to be alone to see it. It was probably a prank of some sort, but why was it in Aylin’s apartment? Did someone who came to the party leave it?

And why did the handwriting look so familiar?

He opened the box, looking at the cute pink stuffing paper. In the center of it all was...a knife?

It was a persian pocket knife with what looked like polished amber on the handle, as well as an elaborate design at the top and bottom of it. The blade itself had designs engraved into it, and if Tomura looked at it close enough he could feel like he was going dizzy. Despite that, it was extremely beautiful. Yet he couldn’t help but recall a sense of familiarity from it…

“Is this for me? Wow, it’s so pretty!” A shrill, feminine voice squealed. A much deeper, more scratchy voice chuckled from beside her.

“It’s a thanks for working so hard on the last mission. I didn’t think it was very practical, but you’ve always enjoyed cute things so I thought you’d like it.”

“Like it? Are you kidding me? I love it! Thank you thank you thank you!” 

“No problem. Keep working hard, okay?” The feminine voice giggled.

“I will!”

“-enko! Tenko!” 

Tenko gasped, opening his eyes in a shock. He could barely breathe. He was on the floor, staring at the worried expression on his friend’s face.

“Are you okay? You fainted all of a sudden! It wasn’t for that long, but still! Do you need to go to the doctor?” She murmured, helping him up.

“I-I’m fine. Just..tired I guess.” He muttered. What...what was that?

“Are you sure?” The girl asked, giving him an unsure expression. Tenko gave her a brief smile.

“Yeah..I’m sure.” He then picked up the box, shutting it before he could see the knife. Who knew what would happen if he saw it again.

“I think I’ll head home now. It’s been a long day, can you pack the cake? I’ll eat it at home.” He said, rubbing his head. Whatever just happened sure made his head hurt.

“A..alright. Just...stay safe okay? And that knife...is it a death threat of some sort?” She muttered, eyes glued to the box. Tenko sighed, chuckling nervously.

“I’m not sure. I just…” What was that? “I’ll think about it later.”

“But-”

“Aylin.” He said, looking her in the eyes. “It’s alright. It’s probably some sort of joke. I stayed up all last night so that’s probably why I fainted. I’m really tired.” She stayed silent for a few moments.

“You’ll tell me if anything bad happens, right? Or maybe not me, but you’ll tell somebody close to you?” She asked. She seemed just as shaken up as he was. He nodded.

“...I will.”  Aylin sighed upon hearing that.

“I’ll go pack the cake. Just, take care of yourself alright? And..whatever this is.” She said, gesturing to the box. “I don’t want my friend getting hurt.”

“Don’t worry Ay. It’s probably nothing serious, I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so…” The almond skinned girl sighed again, going to the kitchen to pack some cake for him. As she left Tenko grimaced, looking down at the box in his hands. There seemed to be a piece of paper stuck in the box, different from the stuffing paper he had seen. Curious, he took off the lid, slipping it out.

Did you like the present? You gave this to someone once, after all. You should visit her sometime, you have a mutual friend don’t you?  Do you remember anything?

Huh? He read over the paper carefully, what? He gave this to someone before…? 

He stuffed the paper into the pocket of his hoodie, shaking his head. He needed some rest.

--------------------------------------------------

Tenko wasn’t able to get back to sleep. What time was it? He knew it was after 12, but it wasn’t before sunrise. After he got back from Aylin’s he had just flopped down and taken a nap. He...he didn’t know what to think. What was that knife? How did it end up in her apartment? What was that...vision? Flashback? Whatever it was, what did it mean?!?

His thoughts were interrupted by an obnoxious knock on his door.

Who would be here at this time? He didn’t have a roommate, maybe it was Aylin coming to check on him? Or someone else? He didn’t want to get up. He groaned, putting his face back in the pillow. The knock sounded again, much louder this time.

“Alright, alright I’m coming…” He grumbled, getting out of bed. Who could be there at a time like this? He opened the door.

“Alright who-” He was shocked to see nowhere there, only the darkness of the night. He groaned.

“What the hell...was that a prank?” He mumbled. Great, he just wanted some peace and quiet, and then this had to happen. He sighed about the turn away when he noticed something by his foot. It was a present box.

“Another one?” He mumbled, picking it up. Should...should he open it? He remembered what happened when he opened the knife, would the same thing happen? He glanced back at his table, where the present box laid along with the knife. Against his better judgement, he picked up this box, taking it to his desk. This time it was green with a pink ribbon. What would be inside? 

Well, there was only one way to find out, right?

He took a deep breath before taking off the lid. Inside was a playstation controller. It was just like any other, right? He took a closer look. It was cracked at the edge, like it had been thrown across the room. The fact that it was a crack rather than part of it being chipped off was a little weird, how did that happen-

“FUCKING RUN!” The scratchy voice yelled.

“I”M FUCKING TRYING!” A slightly higher voice screeched back. 

“Stop getting so worked up you two, it’s just  a game-”

“SHUT UP COMPRESS!” The two voices said, in unison.  The third voice, an older man he assumed, seemed to sigh.

“Dude, you’re cracking the screen.” The higher voice said.

“Huh? Shit, I forgot to wear gloves!”

“We’re almost done, just hang in there until then!”

“Yeah yeah, I know. Just focus on the game.”

“Roger that, boss!”

He was brought back to earth, gasping as he fell onto his bed. He clutched his head, trying to get his breath back. Again? He must be going insane. What was happening? He looked at the box, checking for a note like last time. Sure enough, he found one.

You’ve always liked video games, probably in this life as well. It took forever to recreate the crack on this though.  Do you remember anything?

Recreate? Like...like it had been cracked before. In another life.

Wait, another life?

The note clearly said, “in this life.” So he had more than one life? What? Whatever sick prank this was, he wanted it to stop. 

And why did it end with “Do you remember anything?” That’s what the last note ended with that  as well! What did it mean by that?

Those visions...were they memories? 

No they couldn’t be! There’s no way he would’ve been there for that, how could he? He never had memory loss so why would-

In another life.

“SHUT UP!” He yelled, uncaring of whomever he might’ve woken up. What the hell was happening? The knife then the controller, what was next? He stuffed his face into his pillow, breathing out a sigh. There was no doubt he wouldn’t be able to sleep now.

--------------------------------

Maybe it was all some elaborate April fools day joke, Tenko thinks as he walks to Art History. For the rest of the day yesterday, he hadn’t received anything. Same with today. He got the first gift on March 30, then March 31st, today was April 1st. He’d probably get one today and then never again. That made sense. Or maybe today he’d get duped and someone would come up to him, tell him it was all a prank. And he could tell them he knew all along. Yeah, that’s probably how this would play out. He didn’t need to worry.

So why did he feel so uncertain?

Maybe it was because of the flashbacks? How did they even pull that off anyways? Probably some psychology trick, right?

As he sat down in his usual seat for the lecture, he saw another box. Black with a gray ribbon. What was with the color combos anyways?

He wasn’t sure if he should open it in class, what if that happened? Where his head hurt and he lost breath? He looked around, he had arrived pretty early. No one else should be here, not yet.

He opened the box carefully, noticing a measuring tape. It was different though, it was sharper. As if it could be used as a blade if held the right way.

“You should really eat more, boss! You’re super skinny. It’s because all you eat is garbage. How do you not gain anything when you’re just lazing around eating junk food all day?” Two voices seemed to say. They were practically the same, however one was slightly deeper. It seemed to be the same person though.

“Metabolism. And I’m not that skinny.” The scratchy voice huffed. The scratchy voice that had been in both of his first flashbacks.

“Yes you are! Are you taking care of yourself properly? You have a bit of lean muscle, but other than that you’re a twig. How are you even strong like this? Weak trash. Hey, don’t call him weak! Or trash! What? It’s true. No it isn't ! Take that back!” The voices argued. The scratchy voice let out a chuckle.

“Whatever. Just finish the measurements, we don’t have all day.”

“Nah, I don’t feel like it. I’m on it!”

He gasped, opening his eyes in a violent...less violent shock. Huh? That was calmer than the first two times.  Now that he thought about it, wasn’t the second time as little calmer as well? I mean, he was out of breath,but he didn’t faint or anything. And his head didn’t hurt as much. This time, it was still bad but not as bad. Maybe it was something you get used to.

There was probably a note this time too, right? He checked for the slip of paper that had been in the first two. 

He took our measurements one time, so this should help. You've always found his contradicting personalities amusing. Do you remember anything?

Again with the do you remember anything? Tenko groaned. Whoever this was was really trying to make this convincing. He wasn’t buying it though. Today would probably be the last day of this odd joke.

------------------------------------

He was wrong about it being the last day. His eye twitched seeing a dark purple present box with a yellow ribbon inside of his bag. How did it even get there? What the hell? And he thought today would actually be normal, seeing as he didn’t get any “presents” until classes finished.

Tenko sighed, taking off the lid. What was in store for him this time? 

Inside was a small dark pink teddy bear. Hm, that was different.

“I got you something.” A deep voice spoke. No the usually low scratchy one, but a smoother, calmer voice. It was rich, like honey.

“Huh?” Spoke the scratchy voice of a child.

“You’ve been having nightmares, am I correct? I got you a stuffed animal to help. It’ll protect you from the nightmares, alright?”

“It will?” the small  voice questioned, filled with doubt.

“Of course. As long as you believe it will. And if for whatever reason it fails to work, you are free to come into my room at night.”

“...Even if it works can I still come to you? I like the bedtime stories.” He murmured shyly. The deeper voice chuckled.

“Of course. You’re welcome to see me anytime you wish. I’d actually like that.”

“...Thank you. I like it.” The child’s voice muttered. It was so small you might not have heard it.

“You’re welcome. Don’t be afraid to ask me for anything, alright?”

“Alright.”

Tenko’s eyes shook open, but he didn’t gasp. He was still breathless, but not as much as before. How come the low scratchy voice wasn’t there this time? It was in the first three…

Now that he thought of it, the child’s voice was pretty scratchy as well. It must be him as a child.

When he thought of it, that voice sounded a lot like his own. Just a tad bit deeper and croakier. In another life? Was that voice…

No. It couldn’t be him! He was here, how could that be him?

But it would make sense…

No it wouldn’t! It wouldn’t at all!

He checked for a slip of paper, just as there had been the first three times.

You kept that bear. It was your most prized possession, aside from Father and those creepy hands. Do you remember anything?

Father? Hands?

“I think I remember something.” He muttered, mostly to himself. He was still trying to convince himself this was a prank, but part of him was starting to doubt that. This… this was too uncanny.

“Maybe this is more serious than I thought it was….” He whispered, to no one in particular. No one but himself and the questions settling into his mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hm, I don’t know anyone who’d do that. That’s really creepy…” Aylin muttered, picking at her lunch. They were at the cherry tree for lunch break, as always. Tenko left out a lot of the details, such as the notes and the flashbacks, but he told her about the “gifts”.

“I see…” He mumbled, stabbing a cherry tomato.

“Maybe they really were from an old friend. That’s what the tag on the first one said, right? Were the rest of them tagged?”

“I..I didn’t check...wait, they were!” He could remember seeing the tag, but ignoring it. Each one had been signed similarly.

“There you have it. Although if this gets too out of hand that might be bad...do you want to tell the police or something? It seems worrying…”

“I think it’s fine. It’s just a prank.” Or maybe it really was an old friend. He didn’t want to believe it, but the possibility was getting more and more likely.

“Just stay safe.”

“I will.”

“Maybe it’s something for your birthday? That’s tomorrow, right?” She asked, tilting her head. 

“Yeah, it is...I’m not sure. Seems a little too weird for a birthday thing.”

“Hmm...tell me if anything else happens, alright?”

“Yeah.” He replied, nodding.

I gotta go to class now, take care!” She said, sighing as she picked up her stuff. Tenko nodded through a mouth of pasta. 

He needed to go in a few minutes as well. Just then, something seemed to fall from the sky, right onto his head.

“Ow- what the hell?” He cursed, rubbing his head. He looked down at his feet to see a cyan blue box with a black ribbon.

“Another one?” He mumbled, picking it up and taking off the lid. This box might’ve been the smallest that he had gotten, what was in it?

He tilted his head at the sight of a ring. Well, it seemed to be a ring. It was a small silver hand, curved in the way it could fit over a finger.  The wrist was covered in amethyst, and it seemed like there were...staples? Weird. Why a ring though..?

“You’re crazy.” The scratchy voice breathed. 

“Crazy for you.” Another voice replied. It was deep and rich, yet  less refined and more coarse than the one from before. It was like you could hear a smirk from it.

“You do realize we can’t have a wedding or anything, right?”

“Why not? Sure, it’s nothing official, but we could probably do something small with the rest of the league. Vapeman would make a great priest, he’s always looking tired.” The smugness in his voice just seemed to increase.

“I’m being serious here! We...why…” A loud scratching sound was heard, like nails raking across dry flesh. That’s probably what it was. The noise stopped.

“So am I.” The deep, coarse voice spoke, softer this time. “Who’s to say what we can or can’t do? You’re the king of this world, right? Then you make the rules. So I’ll ask you again, and you can pick the answer on your own judgement. Not on what society will or won’t let us do.” The scratchy voice seems to be breathing heavily as the deep one whispers.

“Will you marry me?”

“...Yes.”

Tomura took a breath, eyes blown wide. His head still hurt, but barely. He was barely out of breath as well. A marriage proposal? Huh? 

What?

This was...too weird. At this point Tenko believed this wasn’t a prank. This was the fourth time. Why did this keep happening?

In another life.

Did he live another life before this?

He checked the tag, seeing the same one as the first box. An old friend, huh? Tenko slipped the ring on his middle finger, just to flip off whoever kept giving him these gifts. They deserved it.

He unfolded the slip of paper,reading for any clues.

Did you like the ring? You liked it then. I thought it would be cute in a sick kind of way, it mimics those hands you’d always wear. Do you remember anything?

Remember anything? Was that a memory from his past life? He wondered….

He looked up at the tree, feeling a sense of warmth from it. The warmth of home. The same warmth he received from those memories. It was weird. He touched the bark, like it would give him an answer.

It was too dark to see details, but there were silhouettes. Of a scarred man holding out a ring to his lover. Of an excited girl making a crown of its flowers and placing atop someone’s head. Of a boy banging his fists against it as he cried. Of a child sitting on a branch as what seemed like mist in a suit watched over him.

Tenko blinked. Images? He had heard voices in those flashbacks, but he never saw anything. This tree...was it linked to whatever was happening? Is that why he was so drawn to it?

He picked up his stuff, realizing he would be late for his next class. Right now, he could only try to make sense of the memories he was given.

---------------------------------------------------------

A pastel blue box with a scarlet ribbon sat on his windowsill when he woke up the morning of his birthday. The ribbon was the color of his eyes, he noted as he picked it up.

Inside, there wasn’t anything but a slip of paper.

Come to the cherry tree at 8:00 PM. Remember.

Tenko gulped reading those words. Would whoever had been sending gifts finally show up? Well, there was only one way to find out.

--------------------------------

He scratched his neck, fluffy raven locks bouncing as he walked towards the tree. What would happen? Was this real or a prank? What was going on? His mind was racing a hundred miles per minute.

He passed behind a building, taking a deep breath once the tree was in sight.

“Happy Birthday.”

He halted hearing the voice. He knew that voice. It was the one from the proposal scene, the one that made his heart beat twice as fast.

“Dabi.” He breathed. He wasn’t sure where that came from, he just knew it. It was like he’d always known it.

“That’s my name.” The man stepped out from behind the tree. He had jet black hair, probably from dye, and multiple piercings. There were faint scars across his face, but nothing major. For some reason, he expected there to be more. 

“Do you remember yet, Tomura?”

Tomura? But his name was Tenko...but Tomura sounded familiar. As if it was him once.

The headache came back, this one worse than before. He couldn’t breathe. He could hear heavy footsteps along with a concerned tone, and felt gentle hand on his back, holding him up. 

Memories flooded into him as he laid limp in the other’s arms.

“Dabi.”

“Yes?” The voice asked uncertainly. Tomura chuckled, leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss. The other happily obliged

“Tomura. You’re back.”

“Indeed I am.” he said, giggling.

“Although, in this life I go by Tenko. It’s...it’s not too bad anymore.” He mumbled. “I don’t mind if you call me Tomura, though. You have special permission.” Dabi’s lips curved up into a smirk.

“Whatever you say boss.”

“Why the presents? Couldn't you make me remember in a less cryptic way? How did you even get everything?” he asks, curiously. 

“You saw what happened just now. You needed to get used to it first. If you remembered everything at once...it wouldn’t end well. You could end up in a coma from the pressure of it, or worse. And apparently everything that existed in our previous life somehow exists now, including those specific  items.As for the ring and the controller, I had that custom made and cracked the controller myself. Don’t worry about cost, my dad is still loaded in this one. Unfortunately he’s still an asshole, but not as much as last time. He didn’t really hurt me, just didn’t care.” He shrugged.

“I see.” That made sense. “How did you remember your past, then?” Dabi gave him a sad smile.

“How do you think I know what would happen?” Tomura’s eyes widened, as he reached forward to touch the other’s cheek.

“You…” he gasped.

“It’s alright. It wasn’t for too long anyways. I’m okay.” He said, nuzzling his cheek. “I’m glad you are as well.”

“Toga, Spinner, Twice, Kurogiri everyone-”

“They’re safe. In this life, they’re not dead. I’m not sure if they remember though.” He mumbled.

“I know where Toga is, but not everyone else.”

“Is that so.” Tomura smirked. “I guess we’ll just have to find them. Dabi laughed.

“I guess we will.”

“The tree..it was there in our past lives as well, wasn’t it?” His gaze turned to the cherry tree, standing to witness their bizarre reunion. “It was my special place then and now.”

“It was.” Dabi spoke, sighing into his neck. Tomura let him, smiling tenderly.

“...You put the ring on your middle finger.”

“Don’t act surprised, you should’ve seen this coming.”

“I really should’ve.”

This time, they’d win. This world was different, but they had each other. Not even death could separate them.

Bonus:

“I have a boyfriend.” Tenko blurted, the next day. Aylin proceeded to spit out her lemonade.

“What how when where why-”

“It’s a long story. I’ll introduce you later. By the way, is your friend still sick?”

“She got better two days ago, why?”

“Mind giving this to her?”

He held out a present box.

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

Ok, so coming off the backs of that previous post, I am going to essay here. HARD. Specifically about something my one friend, who like me watched Xena back in the day, HATES about the current fan community and why she doesn’t really feel welcome among it. OK, so over an over, my friend, who we shall just call “Arial”, hates Xena/Gabrielle with a burning passion. I have discussed her en length previously, but she thinks 100% that Gabrielle was a toxic and needy character and that Xena’s true soulmate was Ares. We have argued about this endlessly for the past 18 years of friendship, but that is her POV, nothing is going to change it. Arial’s OTP is why she feels she has no place in modern Xena fandom, because, lets face it, almost everyone these days who watches Xena are what in 1990s Fandom we would have called “Subtexters”. But why is that? Why is it that the show only appeals to WLW nowadays when, back then, it was much more mainstream? Let us examine that by again pointing out the three audiences. 1. WLW 2. Angry Feminists 3. Horny Men.

Ok, so we are clear on that? Right. Time to dig in. I’m not going to spend much time or justification on the last one, so I’ll get it out of the way first. In the 1990s, the Internet was YOUNG, and the world was a smaller place. If you wanted naked women, your best bet was either the premium network offerings (which few people actually bothered to get access to) or straight-up porn. I’m not even going to try and DENY that porn wasn’t prevalent, but it wasn’t as mainstream in the 1990s. There was still some shred of SHAME left in society, and not every guy on the planet was willing to hunt down an adult video store to spend money on DVDs. Some were, yes. But those weren’t the horny guys Xena was aimed at. Xena was aimed at the horny guys who wanted titillation for free. And, in the 1990s, hot women in ‘leather bikinis’ was the best you would get. Fast forward to 2019, and YEAH. We all know how prevalent and mainstream exploitation of women is NOW. So yeah, why would ANY guy looking for a cheap thrill watch Xena, when he can watch Game of Thrones and see ACTUAL naked women? SO HORNY MEN ARE GONE (and good fn riddance!) Next category. Angry Feminists. Ok. So here’s the thing. Feminism, in 2019, is not the best. Sorry, but it’s not. There are so many problems with overzealous SJWs and TERFS that Feminism has lost sight of it’s mission. Hate to say it out loud, but it is true. In the 1990s, feminism was much more focused. Sure, there were problems, but in reality, the issues of trandgendered individuals were a new topic for most people. In fact, and correct me if I’m wrong, but the concept of “Trans*” wasn’t widely known by that specific TERM yet! If it was, it was within the Queer community only. On top of that, the very idea of strong women “acting manish” was controversial. In the US, we may have had Wonder Woman for decades, but she was always portrayed as a SECRETARY by trade! Honestly, there were very few examples of women kicking men’s ass 100% unapologetically in the 1990s. Red Sonja was one, and the creators of Xena have gone on record to say that Ren Sonja (and the Bionic Woman and Wonder Woman) were examples of “Walking so Xena could RUN”. So yeah, in the 1990s, Xena was a HUGE Feminist icon. She was a woman who not only kicked the ass of everyone she met, but made NO APOLOGIES for it and wasn’t afraid to use sex and her feminine whiles to help her do so. And then, Third Wave Feminism happened. And TERFS and SJWs happened. And suddenly, a show where a Transwoman is a beauty queen, and the Greek Gods are portrayed as characters is NOT OK. So many SJWs try to throw terms at Xena such as “Cultural Appropriation” and “Insensitive” without realizing that they are straight-up missing the point of the show. So, >buzzer< Feminists are out. The ones that remain are usually holdovers from 90′s feminism, who are not judgemental and can appreciate a well-written Bad Bitch when they see one. So, who does that leave? LESBIANS, AND WLW. And here’s the thing. For THEM? The show is stronger than EVER. Because, as we all know, Xena dealt with massive censorship in it’s day... and it only made Xena and Gabrielle more believable as lovers! The relationship between the ladies is so strong, so powerful, SO DAMN REAL, that many modern shows can’t compare. The current media climate often treats lesbian relationships as a commodity, something to be flaunted for ratings, and it’s thrown in your face. Yes, there are good ones out there. But there are far more that are AWFUL, and Xena, with all it’s 90′s cheese and bad SFX, is better than ever. So there. In conclusion, yes, almost the entirety of the modern and NEW Xena fan community came and stayed for Xena/Gabrielle. But back in the day, it was a much more diverse crowd, and the only reason the fandom has distilled down to one group has nothing to do with Xena, and everything to do with society, media, and culture as a WHOLE.

[homaikaike]

Opinions and Discussing the Nonexistent Diaspora

Part Two of: “Misplaced” Hawaiians and the Myth of the Non-Existent Diaspora

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Final (Whole Project)

Hawaiian Studies 343: Myths of Hawaiian History | 21 October 2020

“Wow, it’s hard to believe you’re from Texas. I thought you were a local!” I hear this quite often actually; from cashiers in stores, to school faculty, and professors. Maybe it stems from the fact that I can understand pidgin, the creole English dialect used locally in Hawaiʻi. Or maybe it is because I have brown skin, Polynesian-style tattoos, golden bangles on my wrist and Locals brand slippers on my feet. As a “returned” Hawaiian from diaspora, I have been called “local-passing”, as in I am a person who could “pass” for being someone who lives in Hawaiʻi. Which is odd, because I do live in Hawaiʻi. It has been nearly three years since I have moved back to the home sands of my ancestors, yet my Texas driver’s license and preference for a southern twang is what nullifies any connection I could have to Hawaiʻi. I grew up in the Hawaiian diaspora, and though I could even be “Hawaiian-passing” as an actual Hawaiian person, it is because I did not grow up here that I am just another outsider. The list of opinions posed upon the Hawaiian diaspora and those living in it is lengthy and a discussion waiting to happen. I will begin this discussion here.

Before going into the many complexities of the diasporic identity and the various reactions to its existence, it is first important to unpack who is Hawaiian. It is known that Hawaiians are an ethnic group. Hawaiians are defined by ancestry, which is an important root in the discussion of Hawaiian identity. Starting with this, Hawaiians are those native to the islands of Hawaiʻi (Kanaka Maoli[1]). However, I find it important to mention that—especially in regards to the topic of this paper—that Kanaka Maoli, ethnic Hawaiians, are not less Hawaiian if they live away from Hawaiʻi and those who are living in Hawaiʻi today are not all ethnically Hawaiian. In today’s context and as generally accepted, Hawaiian is a race not a nationality; A Kanaka Maoli is one of Hawaiian ancestry, with all the kuleana[2] of a Native Hawaiian.

A misunderstanding takes place once “Hawaiian” is defined; though the definition mentioned previously explains that someone who is ethnically Hawaiian will still be Hawaiian regardless of where they live, people seem to forget that Hawaiians are located all around the world. There are many occasions on which friends and family have been met with the myth that Hawaiians simply do not live outside of Hawaiʻi. This, in theory, is unreasonable, given the plethora of reasons [to be researched] why a Kanaka Maoli would leave Hawaiʻi. The American military has a large presence in Hawaiʻi and throughout the Pacific, enlisting Pacific peoples into the Army or another branch, which then takes them to places all over the globe. In fact, the military is why I, and countless other Hawaiians in Texas ended up in such a place far from “home”. An editorial found in the Hawaii Tribune Herald, explains how the financial situation in Hawaiʻi is another factor causing Hawaiians to move off-island, pulling quotes from people currently living in the Hawaiian diaspora of the continental United States.

I’d love to come back home, but the economy in Hawaii was killing us financially. Milk [in Utah] is $1.25 a gallon...I am heartbroken every day because I want to come home, but reality reminds me why I cannot (Dawn Lehuanani Hutchinson, Utah).[3]

While many Hawaiians in diaspora find “easier” or “more affordable” lives outside of Hawaiʻi, that struggle that pushes natives out is not often recognized.

Social media is one thing that connects people to each other around the world. It is how many Hawaiians in diaspora keep in touch with family and friends in Hawaiʻi, and stay up-to-date with issues and events happening back home. However, it has also become a place for people to voice their opinions on public forums without invitation. One instance that lives rent-free in my mind, happened on Facebook; in the midst of the Protect Mauna Kea movement, an aunty of mine who lived in Texas had created a post on a group page about Mauna Kea. Though it has since been deleted because of the conflict it had caused, I remember it fairly well. She had posted something along the lines of: “Texas ʻohana[4] is sending aloha[5], please let us know if there is anything we can do from here.” Several comments were made, shaming her for living in Texas; for calling herself part of an ʻohana when she had chosen to leave her homeland, and saying that if she was “really a Kanaka” she would be on Hawaiʻi standing with the lāhui[6]. These comments were harmful, unprecedented, and showed that those diaspora communities still face judgement for having moved away from Hawaiʻi.

What could be more jarring though, is the judgment faced upon returning to Hawaiʻi. In my own experience, the Texas-made Hawaiian pride I had grown up with was suddenly lost upon moving back to Hawaiʻi for college. It was as if my Hawaiian identity was lost, because all I became to local Hawaiians in Hawaiʻi was Texan. I had grown up in Texas, not Hawaiʻi and therefore to them I was not Hawaiian. I was not alone in this either, and many teachers who realized this have spoken to me about never losing pride for who I am. Kanaka scholar ʻIlima Long, is a “returned” diasporic Hawaiian, meaning that she has returned to live in Hawaiʻi from her previous life in diaspora. Having worked with plenty of students during her time, she is one of the kumu that not only understands the experiences of diasporic Hawaiian youth, but also what that experience can contribute to academically:

I trip out when I think about how many [diasporic] Hawaiians I know who've [returned] home that I'm close to in Hawai'i, and what they bring to the lāhui from that positionality. But these are folks who have largely worked through the jolting identity issues that face kanaka who come home.[7]

Though the many opinions and happenings expressed in this paper have been of a negative nature, there has been a changing of the tides. Also on social media, there has been a recognition of these struggles, where people have been speaking out against hate and judgement. Because of this, I feel that the greater idea—the pride of being part of culture actively being oppressed—has instead connected those in diaspora communities to those in the local Hawaiian communities, with many locals now recognizing the difficulties and inner identity struggles that people face with being a Hawaiian raised away from Hawaiʻi.

It must be hard to grow up as Native diaspora. I can relate on a small level, living away from [Hawaiʻi] for the past 7 years...Ultimately your choice, but claiming your right as an Indigenous person is liberating and freeing. I know I feel closer to my ancestors when I own my identity as a Native Hawaiian. Hope no one ever makes you feel that you are less Native because you are diaspora or because of your blood quantum. If that ever happened, remember that is not our ways.[8]

While there are countless more opinions to be unpacked and addressed with an academic eye, being a Hawaiian that returned to Hawaiʻi from diaspora has been both a blessing and a curse; a push-and-pull experience where the complexities of identity have been questioned on multiple occasions. Learning what pushes Hawaiians away from Hawaiʻi and addressing that directly, could be the first step in debunking the myth that Hawaiians do not exist outside of Hawaiʻi, and ending the shame within our own communities.

------------------------------------------

Notes

*all pictures used above are mine, courtesy of me*

[1]Mary Kawena Pukui and Samuel H. Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, Rev. and enl. Ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1986), 127: Human, person; 240, native, indigenous, respectively. Together referring to an indigenous Hawaiian. See also: Jonathan Osorio, “What Kine Hawaiian Are You?”, (The Contemporary Pacific, 2001), pg. 361.

[2]Pukui and Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, 179: right, concern, responsibility.

[3]Keli'i Akina, "Why People Are Leaving 'Paradise'," editorial, Hawaii Tribune Herald, June 28, 2019, accessed October 21, 2020, https://www.hawaiitribune-herald.com/2019/06/02/opinion/why-people-are-leaving-paradise/)

[4]Pukui and Elbert, Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English-Hawaiian, 276: family, relative, kin group.

[5]Ibid., 21: Love, compassion, sympathy.

[6]Ibid., 190: Nation, race, a people.

[7]ʻIlima Long, Twitter post. March 6, 2019, 7:03 a.m., https://twitter.com/ItsIlima/status/1103340225609129984.

[8]Palakiko Chandler, Twitter post. December 5, 2019, 1:00 p.m., https://twitter.com/palakiks/status/1202724336144007168.

sources

Akina, Keli'i. "Why People Are Leaving 'Paradise'." Editorial. Hawaii Tribune Herald, June 28, 2019. Accessed October 21, 2020. https://www.hawaiitribune-herald.com/2019/06/02/opinion/why-people-are-leaving-paradise/.

Chandler, Palakiko. “Twitter / @palakiks: It must be hard to grow up Native…” December 5, 2019, 1:00 p.m., https://twitter.com/palakiks/status/1202724336144007168.

Long, Ilima. “Twitter / @ItsIlima: I trip out when I think about…” March 6, 2019, 7:03 a.m.‏ https://twitter.com/ItsIlima/status/1103340225609129984.

Osorio, John Kamakawiwoole. “‘What Kine Hawaiian Are You?" A Mo'olelo about Nationhood, Race, History, and the Contemporary Sovereignty Movement in Hawai'i.” The Contemporary Pacific 13, no. 2 (2001): 359–79.

Pukui, Mary Kawena., and Samuel H. Elbert. Hawaiian Dictionary: Hawaiian-English, English-Hawaiian. Honolulu, HI: Univ. of Hawaiʻi Press, 1986.

[goddessofpathos]

9/10 Kiss meme. (Rise or Ann even?)

...You know what? I’m gonna do both. 1 for Rise, 1 for Ann. I’ll do Ann’s here. Rise’s I’ll do another post for.

=============================================

A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it. (Ann)

Saturday September 3

Weather: Sunny

Time: Evening

Mariko Kusumi, and Ann Takamaki lie in wait at the Roppongi Train Station. Bags of different colors and sizes surround them.

Many of the stores and malls around the big district had plenty of end-of-summer sales. Marie had invited Ann to come, and she accepted without hesitation. She ‘quietly’ skipped class and spent the entire day with Marie. Not just shopping, but they also caught a movie, had crepes and a lofty dinner to wrap up the day.

“Hey...Marie.” Ann said tiredly, head resting on Marie’s shoulder, arms wrapped around Marie’s own; something that Ann got used to doing after a while, spending time with Marie ever since June. Marie didn’t mind, and would let Ann rest on her whenever. “...Thanks.” Ann’s tone is soft, and lower than her usual cheerful one. Eyes half-closed, she breaths in lowly, as the sounds of passing people and other trains heard running around echo in the long halls of the station. “...I was thinking about Shiho today.”

Marie quietly nodded. One hand slid around Ann’s backside, and gently holds Ann’s waist. She pulls the girl a little closer, resting her head on Ann’s. “Tell me about it.”

“Just...reminiscing.” Ann comments, hints of sorrow in her voice. “Shiho and I used to do this a lot.” she scoots closer to Marie. “We’d go shopping, hit the beach, eat some parfait with drinks. I’d watch her practice volleyball with others. We’d go back home smiling.” Ann sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. “...Is it... wrong for me to want to go back to those days? to long for them?”

Marie moves her other hand and gently caresses Ann’s hair, sighing softly. “No. It...it isn’t. No shame in feeling that way Model.” Marie lightly closed her eyes. “We tend to remember the happy days fondly, because the memories are precious. Bad days...those memories, we want to forget, and usually for good reason.”

“But...not every memory can be a good one. Sometimes...the bad memories exist, to make the good memories shine in the dark. The shadows of our rage, the sorrow of our losses can often cloud our judgement, and its those lights in the dark, that help us recover; get back up and keep fighting before we shatter one of those lights.” Marie grimaced “Otherwise...we fall deeper, and deeper into the abyss.” Marie stops her hand from caressing Ann’s hair. “Once we lose all our lights, what’s stopping us, from becoming what we hate?”

 Ann nearly fell asleep with Marie’s gentle touch. How is she so good at it? but regardless, she listened intently to Marie’s words. She nodded, agreeing silently with her. “I don’t want to be like Kamoshida. I hate him...for all that he did. I hate that he isn’t sorry in the slightest. I hate that we had to force him to confess because there was no other way.” she sighed. “I...still remember that day, when Shiho threw herself. I have never felt fear and despair, as strong as I did that day. My heart sank when I saw Shiho be taken by the ambulance...and worse, the students not caring, Kamoshida laughing, the principal trying to cover it up. I didn’t understand Shiho then. What she felt from Kamoshida’s abuse...but that moment, right there and then, I did. I felt what it was like to be alone and nobody to lean on to, nobody to listen and believe you.”

Ann sniffed, her heart aching of those bad memories. “I don’t want anyone to feel that way again, except those who deserve it.”

Marie let out a small chuckle. “As a panther of justice?” she heard Ann giggle.

Ann slowly lifts her head and stares at Marie, nodding. “That’s the ticket~”

Both girls stare at each other silently. The sound of the trains and the people not bothering them; each girl, too deep in the other one’s orbs. 

Yokohama Chinatown. Train to Yokohama Chinatown, arriving shortly.

That would be Ann’s train. Ann bit her lip. “Hey...Marie.” Ann leans a little closer. “...Why not stay with me tonight? I could use the company...” she said shyly. Part of her wants Marie to say yes. Part of her...no, simply because her bed does not fit two people, and her room is a giant mess. ...Ok so maybe she wants Marie to come over so she can help clean up. What about it?

Thankfully (or not?), Marie answers. “Can’t. Not today at least. Maybe next week or so? I can make space.”

Disappointment, or relief? Ann wasn’t sure which one she was feeling, but whatever it was, she let out a long sigh. “...Yeah, I-I get it. Its sudden, after all.” 

A train coming in close, and slowly coming to a stop got their attention. Its Ann’s train. 

“...Well, I better catch that...or its gonna be one hell of a walk home.” Ann said. “Hey Marie? ...thanks. For...everything.” She said heart fully. “You’ve been so good to Shiho and me. We both appreciate it from the bottom of our hearts. She still talks from that one time we went to the mall, helping her out at school that one time...and the beach, just the 3 of us. Even though the wheelchair didn’t let us get far. We still made the best out of it. So we should...plan something like that again.”

Marie smiles. “Sure, but maybe we can plan for just the two of us sometime.”

Ann’s heart nearly skipped a beat, unsure as to why. “I...I would like that.” Ann said. Before getting up and grabbing her stuff, Ann leaned forward, and met her lips with Marie’s. 

Soft, gentle, warm, smooth...sweet. Ann let her lips mesh with Marie’s, longer than she had intended, and parted the kiss to catch her breath. She pulls back, and stares at Marie, smiling. “See ya Marie...”

Marie nodded, smiling back. “See ya Model. I hope you rest well.” 

“You too.” Ann grabbed her bags, and walked over to the train as it opened its doors. Seconds later, the train left Marie on her own as she waits for her train to  Kichijoji. 

....

Ann arrived at her apartment, exhausted. Both physically and mentally. Upon entering her place, she dropped the bags, turned on the AC, and practically stripped down and entered her bed sheets, wanting to sleep badly more than anything else. She let the potpourri aroma from the scented flowers help her fall asleep. 

The last thing that entered her thoughts and plagued her dreams was Marie...

...

....

Ann slept soundly through the night, and had great dreams...

[gb-fics]

Valentine’s Day (1)

AU Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

... also Shoko x Yutako.

Note: This is another high school fic, set in the same universe from Golden Bomber’s Glamorous Butterfly Campaign with Jex, that I already used for the fic about GB Academy. You don’t need to know that fic, though, it’s a stand-alone. I just thought it was a shame I didn’t make the couples gay there, because somehow I thought the world could need some lesbian Golden Bomber fanfiction for whatever reason XD If that’s not your thing however, there are two plotlines, one between Shou and Yutaka and one between Shoko and Yutako. They keep switching, so technically you can skip through and only follow one couple, too. Also, I’ll post this in two part. Happy Valentine’s Day! (^-^)

“Just a little bit more!”, Yutako demanded, holding up the bowl of sugar. In her hands it looked like a weapon. In Yutako’s hands almost everything did.

“No!”, Shoko protested and jumped to the side to shield the pot on the stove with her body.

Usually, she wasn’t one to pick fights with Yutako. She was usually one to give in to Yutako and to clean up the disaster afterwards that she herself had seen coming all along.

But today, Shoko had something worth fighting for. Some things were too important to let even Yutako butcher them.

“It will make the chocolate sweeter”, Yutako said.

“No, it will ruin it by making it crunchy. You will be able to taste nothing but sugar”, Shoko lectured calmly and stirred the liquid chocolate with the whisk in her right hand.

“No arguing with our perfect housewife I guess.” Yutako gave in and put the sugar bowl down with a loud clonk. She spilled some of the sugar.

Shoko tried not to feel offended by the fact that Yutako had called her a perfect housewife. That was what Yutako probably saw in her. She expected Shoko to get married to a nice, boring guy and stay home to cook for him and clean the apartment. It was what everyone seemed to expect of her. Because she was calm and neat and so very much not like Yutako. No one looked at Yutako and thought she would devote her life to a man. People looked at her and thought she would be the first woman on the moon or the first female Prime Minister of Japan. It didn’t matter if she was qualified or not. Yutako had the air of a woman, who would surely be the first in something. She wasn’t meant to settle down. She was born to conquer.

Deep inside, Shoko felt adventurous, too. She just wasn’t so good at showing it.

“I’m just worried about the chocolate”, Shoko said, sounding a little huffy. “You know I’m an expert on the field.”

“I know you love chocolate”, Yutaka confirmed and pushed herself off the kitchen counter. Like all of her motions, she did it with force. “They should rather call you Choco.”

Shoko rolled her eyes visibly, before she turned towards the pot again. The right consistency was important.

Yutako stepped up behind her, leaning in to inhale deeply. She wasn’t quite hugging her, but Shoko could feel the heat of her body against her back anyway. As always, Yutako wore a thick sweater as if she was freezing. It was very warm inside the kitchen.

“Smells delicious”, Yutako observed.

Shoko bend her head a little, too. Just moments ago, she had been able to smell the faint hint of cacao in the air, but now it was concealed by the sweet chemistry of Yutako’s hairspray. Yutako smelled like the human version of bubble-gum.

“Did you get out the baking forms?”, Shoko asked.

She had been distracted for a moment, and the chocolate started to get sticky already. They had to hurry, otherwise it would burn. Shoko had wanted to use a double boiler, but Yutako had protested with her usual no-risk-no-fun mentality. Now, they were risking their chocolate.

“I was supposed to do that?!”, Yutako shouted and took a step back.

She was still standing so close that Shoko nearly went deaf.

“I swear, I saw them around here somewhere earlier. Somewhere, somewhere”, Yutako muttered and Shoko heard some worrisome clattering behind herself.

She turned off the heat and took the pot off the stove. It was quite heavy, but her arms were stronger than her appearance suggested.

“Put them on the counter”, she ordered, hoping that Yutako would for once listen to her.

She carried the pot over to the counter and Yutako slammed down two backing forms onto its surface. She exclaimed a loud “Ha!” of victory. With her, making chocolates was like going to war.

Shoko lifted the pot, carefully pouring the liquid chocolate into the small, heart-shaped forms. She spilled some of it, but once the chocolate dried, they would be able to scratch off the ugly bits and be left with about 30 small hearts of delicious chocolate.

The chocolate didn’t pour out of the pot quite that easily anymore as Shoko reached the last row. She tilted the pot more. Her arms were starting to feel heavy. She tried to shift the weight in her hands, her lower arm brushing against the bottom of the pot that was still hot.

Shoko winced and put down the pot onto the counter.

“Did you burn yourself?”, Yutako asked.

Shoko held up her bare lower arm to check for the red mark forming there.

“It’s not so bad”, she said, making a face. “It had already cooled down somewhat.”

“Idiot”, Yutako said and grabbed Shoko’s wrist, pulling her over to the sink.

Her grip was very firm, but that just seemed part of her personality. She turned on the cold water, dragging Shoko’s arm under the tap forcefully. She kept holding on to her wrist as if she wanted to make sure Shoko did not pull back.

Shoko wondered if Yutako could feel her pulse. It had quickened rapidly. Probably due to the pain, Shoko assumed. A physical reaction. Adrenaline. Fear of dying. Something like that.

The water was so cold, it slowly started to numb her arm. The pain was nearly gone, but Shoko didn’t feel much else, either. Yutako’s hand, though, she could still sense. It felt warm.

“It’s enough now”, Shoko protested and jerked her wrist free.

“Always so clumsy”, Yutako said and switched off the water. She looked at Shoko affectionately.

Shoko hurried to turn her face. She grabbed a kitchen towel and used it to dry her arm. Yutako wiped her hand off at her skirt.

Shoko felt weird when Yutako looked at her like that. She also felt weird when she grabbed her wrist like that without warning or when she walked up from behind so close. She felt like there was nowhere left to hide.

“We’re missing two hearts”, she observed to change the topic.

“The boys can do without those. I’m was planning to eat one half myself anyway.”

Shoko huffed.

“Have you decided whom to give your chocolates to this year?”, she asked innocently.

Not that she cared a lot whom Yutako gave her chocolates to. It was her decision. On Valentine’s Day, the girls gave chocolates to the guy they liked. That was just how it was done. Shoko didn’t really like anyone, but she liked making chocolates with Yutako. They did so every year since middle school.

“I’m just going to do the unexpected, you know”, Yutako said and shrugged. “I don’t want to impress anyone, so I will just see who doesn’t get any chocolate this year and give him mine. My guess is on Shou. He is weird. But I’d feel sorry for him, if he didn’t get chocolates from anyone.”

Shoko watched Yutako from the side for a moment.

She tried to imagine what it must feel like for a shy, awkward guy like Shou to get chocolates from such a pretty, popular girl like Yutako. Surely, he would be overjoyed. Shoko in his place would be overjoyed.

“And it’s not like any man is worthy of my love anyway, so I might as well give it to charity”, Yutako added.

She was speaking flippant, but Shoko knew her better than that. Although she acted like she just didn’t care who got her chocolate, she was seriously worried for the people who would not get chocolates at all. Underneath her brash attitude, Yutako was quite soft. She didn’t like people noticing, though.

“You gave chocolates to that guy from third year last Valentines”, Shoko reminded her. “He wasn’t needing charity, though.”

Yutako gave a heavy sigh.

It was true that her crush had been so popular, that he had received chocolates from a lot of girls. It was Yutako he had asked out on a Valentine’s date, however. Shoko hadn’t doubted for a moment, that he would pick Yutako. She wasn’t the prettiest girl, who had given chocolates to him, nor the smartest or the kindest. She just had that personality that drew you in so much, you forgot there were other people around to compare her to. Yutako became her own measure by sheer force of will.

“I was young and stupid. I liked him, but where did it lead? Turned out he was boring like the rest of them. I don’t need a disappointment like that again.”

Shoko was all too aware that Yutako had liked the guy. It had bothered her back then. Thinking of it, her stomach still felt weird as if she had just received bad news. They had been dating for only three weeks, though, before Yutako changed her mind again. Shoko had been relieved when she did.

“What about you?”, Yutako asked. “Still giving yours to that beau Yutaka?”

Shoko tried not to pay attention to the judgement in Yutako’s voice. She shrugged.

“I guess”, she said. “He’s cute.”

Truthfully, she did not have any strong feelings towards Yutaka. She didn’t understand why girls giggled in his presence or blushed when he talked to them. But objectively speaking, he was probably handsome and he had an easy-going air about him that Shoko had always found likeable.

The reason she had chosen Yutaka as her Valentines was that he was a safe bet. A lot of girls liked him. That meant Shoko wouldn’t embarrass herself by giving chocolates to him. There was nothing weird about liking Yutaka. People just liked Yutaka. No one would question that Shoko did, too. And since he was so popular with the girls, the chances that he would react to Shoko’s gift and she’d end up on a date with him were close to zero.

Occasionally Shoko wondered if the other girls just pretended to like boys. At least, like them to that extend. Shoko didn’t dislike Yutaka. He seemed good looking and fun. But she did not get excited by his charms like the other girls seemed to get excited by them. Shoko had always assumed they just acted excited, because they enjoyed the drama and the giggling with their friends. Just like Shoko pretended she cared for giving Yutaka chocolates, when really, she only cared about making them with Yutako.

But then Yutako had seemed invested when she had given the chocolates to her crush last year. She had cared about his reaction. Shoko did not care about Yutaka’s reaction. If anything, the thought that he might actually ask her out was horrifying.

She wasn’t sure if that meant something was wrong with her, or if the rest of the world just hadn’t let her in on the play they were staging.

“We should put the chocolates into the fridge, so they turn solid faster”, Yutako suggested and took a step towards the counter.

“No!”, Shoko exclaimed and held Yutako back by the arm. “They need to cool down first. It will affect the taste otherwise.”

Yutako shook her head.

“You are so serious about this”, she said somewhat teasing.

“We have been doing this for years already. Shouldn’t you remember how it’s done by now?”, Shoko scolded her.

Yutako made a funny looking gesture with her arms, as if she wanted to push Shoko’s words aside physically.

“I have grown no more patient over the years”, she said.

“Well, I’m also looking forward to wrapping them up”, Shoko admitted as a compromise.

She had cute wrapping paper upstairs in her room and several pretty cards that she could choose from. She had no idea what to write to Yutaka, though. There was nothing she wanted to tell him. She liked how cute the cards looked, though.

“Are you kidding me?!”, Yutako shouted and threw back her head, laughing loudly.

Her laughter was another reason Shoko didn’t understand why girls liked boys. Boys never looked pretty when they laughed. Yutako, though, Yutako looked dazzling. She understood perfectly well why boys liked girls. But the other way around, it remained a mystery to her.

“I can’t wait to eat them!”, Yutako said.

* * *

Yutaka put down the controller. They were hanging out in Jun’s basement currently, playing video games. Jun had the biggest space and owned the most games, too. He was a little spoiled. Sometimes, Yutaka envied him for that.

“Kenji, your turn”, he offered and held the controller out to his friend.

He had grown bored with playing anyway. Currently, Yutaka grew bored with everything. It wasn’t the fault of his friends. Just lately, their conversations felt somehow shallow to him. It was all about sports and girls and although Yutaka liked sports and he liked girls, there was really only so much to say about these two topics and he had spent 16 years already, saying it all.

“Why so gloomy lately?”, Kenji asked, but took the controller from him. “Cheer up, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.”

Yutaka groaned. He had planned it out weeks ago already. He had booked a place at a cute café that would surely be packed tomorrow and he had made absolutely sure that his parents had other plans for the day and wouldn’t be home until the late evening. Shortly, he had done what he had done every year so far since he found out about boobies.

“Yes, I’m sure you will get tons of chocolate again”, Jun agreed. “You are always the most popular, although Kenji is much taller.”

“Maybe the girls hope he will grow, if they feed him enough”, Kenji joked.

Yutaka snorted. He wasn’t even in the mood to argue.

“It’s just so damn boring”, he whined. “I will check which girls gave me chocolates and then ask the prettiest one out. And since it will be Valentine’s Day and the mood is romantic and I know she likes me anyway and since she is desperate to show off to their friends who didn’t get a date, it will be so easy to make her fall for me. It’s boring.”

“Good for you, if you think a cute girl falling for you is boring. Others have to work hard for that, you know?”, Jun scolded him.

Yutaka knew that Jun worried about not receiving any chocolates every year, because he deemed himself less popular and less attractive than his friends. He was proven wrong every year, though. Yutaka mused that Jun had something of a reliable if awkward vibe to him that girls liked. If Yutaka had to choose between the three of them, he would have given his chocolates to Jun, too. He wasn’t one to toy with your feelings.

“Yes!”, Kenji confirmed. “I’m already all nervous.”

Yutaka knew that Kenji had no reason to be nervous, but that he still was. Beneath his good looks and his silliness, he was actually quite shy.

“I just want something different. I’m doing the same thing over and over again, getting in and out of short-time relationships. But it’s not fulfilling at all. So, why do I keep doing it?”

Yutaka had been thinking about this for a while already. Lately, he felt like he had stepped out onto the side-lines and once he saw the game from the outside, he just wondered what the fuck everyone else was doing. Valentine’s Day was just the peak of a very ridiculous iceberg.

“Maybe you should do something different then”, Kenji suggested. “Don’t take the cutest girl out on a date. Take the one you expected chocolates from the least. Like, the shy girl you would usually overlook. The girl with the weird glasses you would never ask out on a date normally. Maybe they’ll surprise you.”

Yutaka hummed and stared at the tv screen. He hadn’t been aware that Jun had paused the game.

“So, you think I should go out with the most unexpected person, who gives me chocolates?”, he assured.

The idea didn’t sound so bad. He did tend to be slightly superficial about his relationships, maybe that was why it had never worked out. Maybe the girls he usually overlooked were more interesting indeed. And even if the date still sucked, maybe it would make a plain girl happy that a popular guy like himself paid attention to her. He’d be doing a good deed. Charity, so to say.

“You know, I actually like the idea”, he concluded. “But how to decide who is the most unexpected?”

“We will look through the cards together!”, Kenji blurted out and it dawned on Yutaka that he had suggested the whole thing for Yutaka’s amusement as much as his own.

“Yes, we’ll take a vote. And you have to follow through with it”, Jun said.

“Yep, no chickening out, because there is this really cute girl all of a sudden”, Kenji demanded.

“Alright, alright.” Yutaka nodded. “I promise, I’ll obey to your decision.”

* * *

Shoko shuffled on her seat, looking over to the classroom door. Yutako was late. That wasn’t unusual, but today was Valentine’s Day. The first chocolates were given out before class even started and none of the girls liked to miss out on spying who had given chocolate to whom. Valentine’s Day wasn’t about love. It was a social event.

Shoko’s own set of chocolates still sat on her desk. She had meant to drop them off at Yutaka’s locker before first hour started, but there had been a line. A line. Shoko wasn’t sure if she found that unsettling – because so many girls seemed to like a teenage boy who was so, well, so very much like a teenage boy – or relieving, because it meant Yutaka had so many confessions to choose from, that he would surely overlook Shoko’s.

She looked at her bag of chocolate. It was wrapped in pink paper and ribbons in different shades of red. It contained ten small chocolates shaped as hearts. They had had 28 hearts to begin with. Shoko had eaten one of them to check if the taste had turned out sufficient. (It had.) Yutako had eaten seven. It left ten for each of them to give away.

Shoko looked over to Shou’s empty seat. He was late, too. Unless Yutako he wasn’t one to run late usually. Shoko wondered if Yutako had bumped into him and given him the chocolates. She should probably have waited to see if he wouldn’t receive some from someone else, but then that wasn’t very likely. Shou wasn’t unattractive – at least in Shoko’s eyes, but she felt for his outer appearance as strongly as she felt for Yutaka’s; which wasn’t very strongly at all. But he was a loner, someone who always stuck to himself. Shoko assumed that girls didn’t give him any chocolates, because there was something intimidating about him. He didn’t seem to want to get close to people. But maybe that was just an act. Shoko was sure that if Yutako gave him her chocolates, he would drop his misanthropy immediately and hope for a date. Yutako had that effect on people. Even if you hated the entire human race, under no circumstances could Shoko image someone hating Yutako. Of course, it wasn’t very likely that Yutako would go out with Shou. It was just charity chocolates, as she called it. But then it was Yutako. You could never be sure what would be going on in her mind next. Shoko didn’t understand why she worried about it so much.

She felt physically unwell, thinking that Shou and Yutako were running late, because they were setting up a date right now. Shoko didn’t have any plans yet. She had assumed she would hang out with Yutako in the afternoon. But if Yutako changed her plans now, it would leave Shoko behind alone, wondering what Yutako was doing on her date in the meantime. It wasn’t a very fun perspective for Valentine’s Day.

The door opened and Yutako rushed into the room. She always moved as if driven forward by an unstoppable energy.

The first thing Shoko noticed was that her hair was slightly out of shape, as if she hadn’t brushed it properly before leaving the house. The second thing she noticed was the box of chocolates in her hand. Relief washed over Shoko, because it meant she hadn’t given the chocolates to anyone yet. The relief was instantly followed by panic.

The box of chocolate wasn’t the one they had wrapped up together yesterday. The wrapping looked professional. It looked like the box had been bought at a store.

That left two things to worry about. What had happened to the chocolates they had made together? Had Yutako indeed given them to someone already? Did she have a date? And where had she gotten the other chocolates from? Had someone given them to her? A guy who liked her so much, that he was trying to bribe her into going out with him on Valentine’s Day? Had the bribe worked? But then, guys didn’t bring chocolates on Valentine’s Day. He could have waited until White Day, if he wanted to confess. On Valentine’s Day, the girls confessed. Did those chocolates mean, that a girl had confessed to Yutako? Like, a female girl? Shoko knew that that was in fact possible. If girls liked girls, they would surely like Yutako. Not just because she was pretty and funny and so adorably crazy, but also because she radiated the feeling that she wouldn’t mind. She was so unlike all the other girls at their school, that Shoko had wondered, too. But she knew Yutako liked guys. She knew that for sure. But maybe the girl who had brought the chocolates hadn’t known? And if Yutako had accepted the chocolates, did that mean she had accepted the confession, too? By a girl? Or had she just wanted to be polite?

Shoko felt a piercing pain in her chest, that somehow made it hard to breathe. Or maybe it had been hard to breathe before the pain already, she wasn’t sure. Her head felt dizzy. Possibly from oxygen shortage. When was the last time she had taken in a breath?

“Hey”, Yutako greeted cheerfully, putting the box of chocolates onto her table next to Shoko’s and dropping her school bag to the floor.

Shoko stared at the box of chocolates. She tried to focus on her breathing. The wrapping paper around it was white. The print on the side was golden. There was a golden sticker on it, too. It reflected the lights overhead. On one side, the paper was slightly crumpled, as if Yutako had clenched it too tightly there. Her breathing evened out.

“Where is that box of chocolate coming from?”, Shoko asked.

“Ah, I bought it this morning”, Yutako said and sat down. She sat with her legs spread widely, although her skirt was very short. Shoko could see more of her bare thighs than was appropriate. She looked away.

“It was insane in that store. I had to physically fight off three other women to get it. I almost ran late.”

She brushed over her hair with the back of her hand as if trying to flatten it that way. It looked funny, because most people would have tried to run their fingers through it to untangle it. Yutako didn’t use her hands like a hair brush, though. She used them like a flattening iron. Somehow, Shoko found that adorable.

“And you know what? It wasn’t even worth it.” Yutako slammed down her palm onto the table plate. For a moment, Shoko honestly believed the table would just fall apart under the impact.

“I was thinking of that sad little fucker Shou and how he would feel, if he didn’t get any chocolates and just when I got here, I caught him next to the entrance, sliding a box of chocolates into his school bag. A cute yellow one. I feel betrayed. Men. You can’t trust any of them.”

Shoko chuckled. She liked it when Yutako talked about men like that. Like she didn’t really like them at all.

“What happened to the ones we made, though?”, she asked.

Yutako shrugged nonchalantly and pulled her hands up into the sleeves of her sweater. Only her fingertips were showing.

“I ate them”, she said.

For a moment, Shoko just stared at her, before she snorted with laughter.

“You are absolutely the worst”, she concluded.

“Good I did!”, Yutako exclaimed. “He didn’t deserve them anyway!”

Still grinning Shoko shook her head. She was kind of glad Yutako had eaten them by herself, though. She was right, Shou did not deserve them.

Yutako pulled one of her legs onto the chair. Her skirt slid up even further. Thankfully, the legwarmers were covering a great deal of her skin.

“I’m just sad they’re all gone already”, Yutako pouted.

“You shouldn’t have eaten them all at once”, Shoko said calmly.

“We should have made more.”

Shoko looked onto the chocolates still sitting on her desk.

“You know, you can have mine”, she offered. “Since you like them so much.”

She reached out to push the box across the table. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears as if her heartbeat had decided to step it up to highspeed.

Shoko had no idea why she felt like that. She was just being nice to a friend. If Yutako liked the chocolates so much, she ought to have them. For Shoko, it had been more about the making anyway.

Yutako hesitated.

“What about Yutaka?”, she asked.

Shoko brushed it off with a small gesture.

“You know”, she said. “I don’t think he deserves them either.”

Yutako leaned forward and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. She was unable to really whisper, since her voice always remained loud, but Shoko got the idea.

“He cleaned out his locker today and left it open, just so the girls could leave their chocolates freely. The arrogance.”

Shoko had to admit that it was a pretty arrogant attitude. Yutaka wasn’t hoping for chocolates, he was just assuming he’d get them. He certainly did get a lot of chocolates, though.

“See”, Shoko said. “One box more or less. He won’t even notice. So, take them.”

Yutako looked at the neatly wrapped up chocolates Shoko had pushed towards her. She bit her lower lip. Yutako usually wore lip-gloss that made her lips look shiny. Shoko always wondered if it made her lips taste artificial or just sweet.

Suddenly, Yutako’s expression lit up.

“Hey, you know what”, she said. “You can just take mine. Give them to Yutaka instead. I won’t feel so guilty for eating yours then.”

She took up the white box with the golden print and put it down in front of Shoko.

Shoko stared down onto the box. She knew that it was just a simple exchange. It was basically a business agreement. They hadn’t exchanged Valentine’s chocolate just now. Not in a girls dating girls way at least.

Shoko felt her cheeks heating up anyway.

She reached out and touched the box. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it, though. Somehow, she just wanted to make sure that it was real. That she had really gotten those chocolates from Yutako and that they physically existed. Let alone the thought of giving them to Yutaka seemed like blasphemy to her. Yutako had bought those chocolates. She had fought three other women for them. She had almost been late. Admittedly, she hadn’t done so specifically for Shoko, but the sacrifice seemed too big for Yutaka anyway. He would have deserved Shoko’s chocolates. But Yutako was too good for him.

“I think I’d rather eat them myself”, Shoko said and made a face that gained her a grin from Yutako. “I don’t feel like standing in line.”

“A wise decision, if I may say so”, Yutako agreed, but then a frown appeared on her forehead. “But damn, no. You will have to eat the lame-ass bought ones, while I ate almost all the good ones, we made ourselves.”

“They weren’t that good”, Shoko pointed out.

She was pretty sure that the bought ones were created with far more skill.

“No way!”, Yutako shouted. She had a way of raising her voice in the middle of the conversation that made it impossible to tell if she was angry or excited or just temporarily hard of hearing. “You are so good at making them. They are the best chocolates in the world! We ought to split.”

Shoko gave a small shrug. A part of her expected Yutako to just rip open both boxes right then and there to split up the chocolates.

“Fine”, she gave in, just because she knew that protesting wouldn’t help her with Yutako. She had a way of getting her will.

“Great”, Yutako said and pulled Shoko’s chocolates towards her a little closer as if making sure no one would try to steal them from her. “I’ll drop by at your place in the afternoon. We can share then.”

And although Shoko knew for sure that it wasn’t a Valentine’s date, she thought that the fact that they had just exchanged chocolates, made it feel a little like a Valentine’s date nonetheless.

* * *

“I think everyone should be gone by now”, Kenji observed.

“I don’t understand why we had to wait so long”, Jun whined. “Everyone else went home thirty minutes ago.”

“We had to give some time to the shy girls, to drop off their chocolates”, Yutaka explained. “Maybe some of them waited until school finished, so no one would see them.”

“And it would be a shame to miss a box by leaving too early, wouldn’t it?”, Kenji chimed happily.

“There is something seriously wrong with the two of you”, Jun muttered as they rounded the corner that led to their lockers.

Kenji’s and Jun’s were farther down the hallway, but Yutaka’s locker was already in clear sight.

Someone was still standing in front of it.

Yutaka stopped short and squinted his eyes, although he could make out the person perfectly well. He wouldn’t have needed to check for the fact that they weren’t wearing a skirt to realize it wasn’t a girl. Not a lot of people had such a large head and a hunched over body posture. Their classmate had an almost comical physical appearance.

“Wait, guys, wait”, he hissed. “What is that dude doing at my locker?”

Kenji and Jun stopped as well.

“That’s Shou, isn’t it?”, Kenji asked.

“Ah, poor guy, he is so awkward, I don’t think anyone gave him chocolates”, Jun said. As someone constantly in fear of ending up exactly in that position, he obviously took pity in him.

Shou opened the locker.

“Is he stealing my chocolates?”, Yutaka whispered at full volume.

Kenji laughed, but tried to supress his voice. Shou was not looking in their direction.

“If that fucker is stealing any of my chocolates …”, Yutaka muttered, not sure what he would do then. He just knew that he wouldn’t be pleased.

What did Shou think he was doing? Yutaka had worked hard for those chocolates. Being as charming as he was, wasn’t easy. He deserved those chocolates.

“It’s your own fault for leaving your locker open.”

Shou knelt down and opened his schoolbag.

“I can’t believe this”, Yutaka said and shook his head. That bastard wouldn’t just grab one or two boxes. He would fill his entire schoolbag with it. It was just impudent.

Shou got out a box wrapped in cute yellow paper from his bag and placed it in Yutaka’s locker.

Yutaka stared.

Shou closed the locker.

Yutaka stared.

Shou buckled his schoolbag again.

Yutaka turned his head to check for the reaction of his friends. He wanted to know if they were staring as well.

“Did he just …?”, Yutaka asked.

Shou got up.

Kenji turned towards him and his grin was very wide.

“Now”, he said. “That was unexpected.”

Yutaka stared at him for another moment. Something about that word rung familiar. Unexpected.

He turned his head to look at Jun.

“You mean …?”, he asked.

“Absolutely”, Jun confirmed, grinning just as widely.

“Fuck”, Yutaka said softly. That had come unexpected. And although he was not a man of honour by any means, he was a man who stood by his word.

“Shou!”, he called out.

Now Shou did look into their direction.

Yutaka had expected him to be embarrassed. He had expected him to blush and maybe stutter an awkward explanation. He had expected him to be delighted, though, once Yutaka offered to go on a date with him.

What he had not expected, however, was Shou to shoulder his schoolbag, turn on his heels and make a run for it.

Yutaka stared after him.

“What the fuck”, he said.

Kenji burst out laughing. This time, he did not lower his voice.

“Run, Yutaka, run!”, he shouted.

“What are you waiting for?!”, Jun shouted and only then did it dawn on Yutaka, that he was actually supposed to do something.

“Fuck”, he said again. Then he started running.

“Shou!”, he shouted. “Shou, wait up!”

Shou showed not the slightest inclination of slowing down. He was aiming for the exit.

Yutaka dropped his bag to the floor while running, hoping that Kenji or Jun would pick it up. The bag no longer bouncing against his thigh as he ran, increased his speed rapidly. Shou was an awkward runner. Pretty much everything about him was awkward. Yutaka caught up to him.

Shou did not stop, though. He kept heading for the exit. Yutaka mobilized his last reserves, dashing past Shou to reach the exit before him. There, he swirled around, stretching out his arms to block the doorway.

“Stop!”, he shouted.

Shou stopped short right before colliding with Yutaka.

Both of them were breathing heavily.

“Why did you run?”, Yutaka gasped.

“Why did you follow me? What do you want from me?”, Shou shot back just as breathlessly.

He was glaring at Yutaka so angrily from behind his glasses, that for a moment, Yutaka really thought it was his fault. But then he remembered why he had chased Shou in the first place.

“I want you”, Yutaka said and straightened himself. “I want you to be my Valentine’s date.”

Shou flinched and then looked around hectically. He looked like a small animal caught in a trap. Suddenly, Yutaka felt almost sorry for cutting his flight like that.

“Don’t say something like that in public”, Shou asked quietly.

Yutaka looked around as well. In the distance behind Shou, he could see Jun and Kenji, but except for them, the building was empty.

“There is no one here”, he soothed Shou.

Not scolding him for being so scared was Yutaka’s idea of a peace offering.

“So, will you?”, he added. “Go out with me today, I mean?”

Shou stared past him. It made Yutaka want to look over his shoulder to check what he was looking at. He forced himself to concentrate on Shou. He had already assumed he would be embarrassed after all.

“No”, Shou said. He did not sound shy. He sounded very determined.

“What?”, Yutaka asked, for a moment doubting he had heard him correctly.

“No”, Shou repeated. “I won’t.”

Yutaka stared at him blankly.

The whole situation was so, well, so unexpected that he had no idea how to react at all. It was all just about improvising. Shou’s whole behaviour was very irritating to say the least.

“But you gave me chocolates right now!”, Yutaka exclaimed.

Shou rolled his eyes.

“You maybe want to broadcast it over the radio station, too?”, he asked.

Yutaka felt guilty for speaking so loudly immediately. Then he felt irritated why he was feeling guilty. Shou had no reason to be so snappy. He was trying to change the topic, too.

“So, you confessed to me, but you don’t want to go out with me?”, Yutaka assured.

Shou nodded grimly. Yutaka thought that he was kind of scary.

“Why not?”, he inquired.

“Why do you want to go out with me?”, Shou asked.

Yutaka stared at him, for a moment struck speechless.

“I, uhm”, he started.

“It’s a joke, isn’t it?”, Shou asked. “I saw you with your friends. You are making fun of me. It’s easy to make fun of people, when you are popular.”

Yutaka raised his open palms, trying to express that he was coming in peace. He wasn’t blocking the door entirely anymore that way. Shou remained standing where he was.

“I’m not making fun of you”, Yutaka said. “I really, seriously want to go on a date with you. It’s not a prank.”

He could see the hesitation on Shou’s face. He had a funny face. Yutaka had never paid attention to just how expressive it was.

“Then why?”, Shou asked.

“Well, me and my friends had this agreement where I have to go out with the most unexpected person, who …”

“Ah”, Shou interrupted him harshly. “So, the joke isn’t on me. It’s on you.”

“What? No!”, Yutaka protested. “It’s not about making me go on an awful date. It’s like, giving a fair chance to the underdogs. You are the underdog this year.”

He reached out to box against Shou’s shoulder lightly.

Shou stared at Yutaka’s fist so irritated that Yutaka regretted it immediately. Shou had something about himself, that made Yutaka feel stupid.

“Giving a fair chance to the underdogs?”, Shou repeated incredulously. “What do you think people are doing? Competing for you? You are so vain.”

“But … but …”, Yutaka stuttered. “People are giving me chocolates! That means they all want to go out with me! I get to choose. It is like a competition.”

“Well, if you are the price, I don’t care for winning”, Shou said and pushed past Yutaka to get outside.

His shoulder brushed against Yutaka, but he did not stop to apologize.

Yutaka turned to look after him.

He still felt very irritated. He had met girls before who liked to play hard to get. Shou wasn’t playing, though. His walls were built up so high, Yutaka hadn’t been able to even peek over them. But luckily, Yutaka wasn’t one to give up easily. He knew what to do about walls. All you needed to do, was bring a ladder.

“At the train station!”, he called after Shou. “West exit. At 4 pm. Say you’ll be there!”

Without turning around, Shou flipped him the finger.

Yutaka was absolutely willing to accept that as a yes.

[lunasilvermorny]

End of year 4

(I know I’m not done with season 1 of the Quidditch story, but it seems like it’ll take a while, so in the meantime, I want to actually progress the story.)

Wait, he hasn’t came back yet? The hell is he doing?

Aww, she looks so proud.

That’s the look of- “At least it’s not Slytherin.”

(Unless you’re playing as one, but I’m not, so it works.)

Such a plot twist...

Yeah, you were only a 1,000+ points ahead. No big deal.

Me: Finally, I got to year 5!

Everyone who’s been through it:

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Conclusions:

(This is going to be a long one...)

In general:

I think year 4 was overall a good one. I liked the pace of the story (a bit slow sometimes, but never enough to make me completely disinterested.) and the fact that it was longer than the previous years made it better to really get invested in the plot.

Now for a deeper dive (with obvious spoilers):

The main plot:

I think the plot of year 4 is the most interesting we had so far. It was darker, but no too much to break the immersion. There were actual plot twists (the whole thing with Ben was very well executed.) and the new characters they introduced were really well made.

However, even though I thought the plot was pretty good, there were some really boring parts. For exampe - the part with sickleworth. I was really looking forward to it, but it was just tedious.

Let’s go search the arrowhead here. Oh, it’s not here? Let’s go there instead. No? Then let’s try this place...

Mind-numbingly boring and a waste of time.

New characters:

Rakepick:

As much as I think she’s a manipulative prick, she’s a great addition to the story. Her problematic methods are in perfect contrast to the other professors and I think it adds a lot to have an irresponsible adult around to enable MC’s behavior, when it comes to furthering the plot in a believable direction.

I don’t like the way she manipulates Merula into doing her dirty work, but again, it makes perfect sense that they would take this direction in order to keep Merula relevant as the antagonist.

Professor Kettleburn:

What more can I say? They nailed it. I love everything that has to do with him. I truly believe they made him justice the way they’ve portrait him. I went over the stuff that JKR wrote about him and they were very faithful to the source material. I think they’re way better at adapting characters that had no presence in the HP books and movies.

So yeah - great job, JC. Honestly.

Charlie Weasley:

Supported by my last statement about the way they adapt characters - Charlie is wonderful. I know that a lot of people find his obsessive talk about dragons annoying and one-dimensional, but in a game where most characters are not explored to a very deep level, I think it was smart to keep a simple and coherent character arc.

I like how calm and easy going he is and I just found myself enjoying almost every interaction MC had with him.

I really liked the fact that he was a huge part of the main story and that he automatically joined us in all the important parts, just like Tulip and Barnaby in year 3. His adventurous nature was very uplifting at times and he just made everything 10 times more interesting.

I can understand why he’s such a fan favorite. Again, great job, JC.

Andre Egwu:

I know that we technically already met him in year 3, but his presence was almost non-existent until year 4, so I consider him a new addition.

Anyway, like the rest of the new characters, I really like Andre.

At the beginning he was a bit annoying, but my impression on him changed very quickly once he had more screen time.

Proving that he’s more than a sassy background character, he showed that he’s a true friend in the main plot and the SQs. The fact that he’s our fashion-guy that always happy to help is already good enough, but his supportive nature in the main plot (giving MC his broom, join her to the forbidden forest) just made it so much better.

Liz Tuttle:

Even thought she’s still not our friend, she was in the background of a few SQ and was introduced in the Polyjuice Potion SQ. The problem is that... that’s it.

Anyone who’s been in my blog more than 10 minutes knows how much I like Liz and how her big of a presence she has in the headcanon, but she’s barely anywhere in the game and it’s such a shame.

I’d like to know her character better and I feel like there’s a missed opportunity. I adore her love and dedication for creatures and animals, and hope they wouldn’t just use it as a joke like- “look at that weird girl that cares way too much about animals” instead of showing it in a positive light.

Old characters:

Ben - I think I like the most what they've done with Ben. The fact that he was the masked “dark wizard” was a true plot twist and even though I suspected it, it still got me.

Rowan - I didn’t like the fact that Rowan was a judgemental arse and that in the end he was right, even though he had no proof and based his suspicions on gut feeling. That’s extremely out of character of him and I hated it.

Side quests:

There were many. Some were just brilliant (the Celestial Ball SQ and the First Date SQ), and some weren’t. (like the Nearly-Headless Nick one and.. I can barely remember, because they were so dull.)

But here’s a very quick recap (because I said all I had to say in the SQs posts):

Nearly-Headless Nick - So damn boring!

Unleash Your Patronus - Disappointing, but not a complete failure.

Polyjuice Potion - I wouldn’t have liked it nearly as much if Liz wasn’t in it... but she were, so I can’t say I hated it.

Celestial Ball - Brilliant! 10/10. Loved it. By far the best.

Rita Returns - Boring.

First Date - Amazing!

Become a Prefect - a bit boring at times, but in general it was a nice little SQ.

Magical Creatures Everywhere - Nice premise, I enjoyed all the creatures and characters involved, but it was just a fetch quest without anything too interesting. No stakes, very basic story. Not the best, but we had worst.

Also, I need to point out that I changed my opinion on Penny based on the SQs. (not only in this specific year.) They put her way too much in placed that she wasn’t belong and it left me more annoyed with her than anything. She was one of my favorite characters and now I just want to skip any dialogue with her, because I’m so tired of her.

The Vault:

This part was very disappointing. The build-up was promising, but there was barely a pay-off. It wasn’t nearly as interesting as the vault from year 3, even though I think it had greater potential.

Also, I hated the fact we had to fight the Acromantula instead of choosing between a fight and a conversation, like Kettleburn advised us.

Oher stuff:

Chimaera - I guess we’ll see it through next year? It felt more like a running gag than anything, but it’s a freaking Chimaera that’s running loose! There’s no way we’re not going to encounter it at some point. Anyway, I thought it was amusing as a background plot to show Kettleburn’s recklessness.

Studying - I know that most of the time it was to learn about things that have to do with the vault, but I still liked to see them sit and study, especially MC with Rowan. It’s a school after all.

Snape and Rakepiclk’s rivalry - it wasn’t written in the best way, but the presence of their rivalry was very much appreciated as a part of the plot. I like how Snape’s view of her stand in contrast to everything she did “to help” them and I think it adds a bit more depth to both of their characters.

The Weasleys - I loved all of their background plots. Such a wholesome addition.

Joking about Rakepick - it’s a very small thing, but I loved every mention of their fear that Rakepick is going to kill them. Very amusing.

Dumbledore’s absence - it just felt too convenient, so MC’d be able to do more things without supervision. It didn’t sit well with me and just felt like a cop-out.

Detention - Even though it was a shame that MC didn’t get her usual 100 house points at the end of the year, I do appreciate the fact that Dumbledore finally punished her bad behavior. Took him long enough, but it’s a start.

Quidditch:

I know it’s technically supposed to be in the second year, but since it’s started when MC was already in her 4th year, I treat it as if it’s part this year.

I think this addition improves the game significantly. The mechanics are fun and the plot is okay.

Penny’s role is very out of place and like I said before, it makes me love her character less and less. The new characters, however, are really interesting. I feel like each brings a new thing that no other character has brought before.

Skye - Although she left a very bad first impression, I think overall she’s okay. Her backstory is interesting and she makes the player want to win, for themselves and for her.

McNully - I think he’s great. Talk too much? Sure, but that’s part of his charm. He’s funny and interesting, and by far contributed the most to get MC in the team.

Orion - Again, it took me a while to like him, but his bs attitude became very comforting at times and I grew to like his weird dialogues.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Final thoughts:

This year was interesting and much more than the previous ones, in almost any aspect. It wasn’t perfect, but if I take everything into consideration, I think it was a successful year and my new favorite.

I know year 5 is way messier and incoherent, so I don’t have a lot of expectations. I’m just glad that we got this far and the story was still interesting enough to keep me going.

[tgai-spock]

okay so before you read this a note - I wrote this before the BLM protests began

a second note, I had another almost identical slightly crazier version of this written before coronavirus. a minture of both and, bad judgement is leading my to post this.

consider this - the government is shit - why not just build a completely new one without even fighting to dismantle the other.

-----

Planned Land Name : Newski -

change available on suggestion of better name

When the Doctor was acted by David Tennent he had a line that stuck with me, all the ways we as humans could have decided to live, and this is what we choose. It wasn’t really a choice just a platform of life built over all the last ones, run with greed and fear, and a large portion of cruelty.

We took old models and added to them, and in a way if we continue this way we will deserve the destruction we get. On a singular basis most of us are mostly innocent, and yet, we won’t be for long.

I think now is the right time. Now its more blatant and obvious than ever before. Thirty years ago the government would have experimented on you, and left you for dead, without your consent, penniless. Before that they would have asked you to steadily walk into machine fun fire. The only difference now, is you know of that past. You don’t know of the decade that came next, or the one after that because it’s yet to be revealed. More information on this:

usa see:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unethical_human_experimentation_in_the_United_States

uk see

……..

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Porton_Down

is all i can find, the uk had a wiki list just like the usa, half as long (USA IS LONG) just as bad. all on purpose. this was here.. someones.. removed the wiki article?? Someone please give me the link. It must be on the internet somewhere still. Is it just me or has this … been deliberately hidden. Hidden in favour of articles on corona virus ‘vaccines’ ah.

anyway, this isn’t news, or even the whole point.

The economy, our very life and being is currently ruled by one question, which is always answered, with ease and purpose. What’s more important money, or a human life? Money or hundreds of thousands of people? The money is now what it always was, money. The prime minister of the UK has sent pople with non-vital jobs back to work. Some of these people will catch corona-virus and die, as a direct FORCED action from the government, as it is no longer an ability for people with those jobs to choose to risk themselves, and their familys. They must work, earn money for the economy (endanger their family and possibly die) or they can stay home loose their job, home (and then die.)

But was there ever a different option? Yeah. Just like the current looming global warming crisis, they were told about possible plague outbreaks. Instead of preparing for a possibility, they closed their. We will face this again when global warming makes its first attempts to claim lives.… well honestly, we’re already well past the first few, but when it starts hitting younger people, when not only the old suffer. When the temperature outside reaches 50c do you think you will be allowed to stay in your air conditioned home? Now we know at least. Not only will you be forced into an environment made uninhabitable by rich greedy bastards, but you’ll also be forced to work on non-necesery jobs (umm actually this show store is necessary because it’s technically a garden blah blah blah. Rich people are bored at home. So now, you must die.

But who wants to go war? - Note I wrote this before the BLM protests, and honestly guys, I’m so proud of you but so many innocent people are dying. Gauge their eyes out. Eradicate the police. BLM! BLM!

Who wants to go to prison, risk losing their job, their free time (oh which every second of is ever so precious because of what they’ve done) who wants to endanger their family? (BLM, heroes but you don’t deserve that. Keep up the good work though. They say all the police in the USA are the ones who are burning cars. Burn the police. burn the police.

Anyway: Instead of forcing a shitty government who takes way too long to make changes what I instead suggest is - make a new city.

Like start in the uk and then spread out, keep architecture unique to the area

Goals:

The sustainable continued existence of humans

Land that is self sufficient for all basic needs food/water/energy/medical care.

Sustaining and cleaning the environment

Creating 3 years worth of food back up for every Newski citizen in the event of catastrophe (plague/war/large volcanic eruption, dalek attack, ect.)

Sustaining and helping endangered animals caused by human interference

Developing cures to diseases that attack animals/environment in nature

Developing cures to diseases and ailments humans experience

Researching and developing cure/coping mechanisms for mental illnesses.

To interfere in other cultures that do not allow their own basic rights, for all citizens due to race/gender/religion/sexuality. (I support all different countries having their own way of life, but I draw the line at where a ‘way of life’  injures other humans. Lets not pretend to make this question harder than it is. It isn’t a hard question to answer. Volcano going to blow up and wipe out an entire civilisation of people who can’t help themself? Then help them.

To interfere in other cultures that force child marriages of those under 18. (Yes that includes the law allowing 16 years olds to get married in the uk! You know who mostly uses that now? Pedophiles, and people forcing their children into marriages. Ideally I’d raise it to 21, theres no reason anyone under that should be marrying.

Researching and creating a defence system for earth (dangerous comets, possibly aliens, mostly comets)

To create a bunker in the event of a large catastrophe where one will be needed for shelter

Creating off world self sustainable, peaceful settlements, and making sure the billionaire don’t spread hell to outterspace- can you honestly say with full certainty the won’t bring back slavery? they might even act like its not slavery if they splice humans with some other species…

To continue developing

Living in Newski

Government:

Newski is managed by 1 King or Queen, and a small Government.  (nnnooo don’t be put off by the word king it’s more like a prime minister)

The King/Queen title is passed on to people when they wish to retire.

The King/Queen may train as many people (apprentices) as they wish but they must choose one person to takeover.

In the event the King/Queen is lost before an apprentice is chosen it will be down to the citizens to vote in one of the apprentices.

A King or Queen that has chosen an apprentice may give them the title Prince/Kinglet/Queenlet.

A King or Queen may unchoose their Prince/Kinglet/Queenlet, if they feel they have made a mistake, unless it is proved they are intoxicated or suffering from a severe illness, such as dementia. Other illness such as depression although severe are not just cause for ignoring the King/Queen.

A King/Queen is not required to have biological heirs however, there is nothing wrong with them naming their own children Prince/Kinglet/Queenlet, as long as they have been through sufficient training, and have been educated.

The King/Queen may be removed of their crown, given the government first votes to it with a 100% agree rate, and the citizens then vote with a 90% agree rate.

Only King (me) may not be removed of their crown, no matter the government votes.

On the death of King (me) expect their return with another body- wow I had a whole paragraph here about resurrection. weird.

The King/Queen may be respectfully retired given the government first votes to it with a 100% agree rate, with scientific evidence to suggest that they have a strong illness relating to memory/reality such as dementia. They may keep their crown and should still be respected as such but they are no longer allowed to walk in on government meetings or throw people in the stocks.

A new King/Queen may then be voted in by the citizens from any of the previous nominated apprentices, or a retired King/Queen in good mind has the right to single rename themselves King/Queen, or narrow down the selected apprentices to five individuals.

The Government is set up of twelve people each individually voted. The King/Queen can choose one person who will enter the government regardless of vote. Citizens will be free to vote in the other 11 from anyone who has nominated themselves.

All government nominees will be asked to fill out a list of what they stand for, and do not stand for, to be published in one easy to read leaflet, next to every other nominee, so voters may understand 100% who they vote for. Nominees who have written that they 100% agree with certain ideas but then vote against them may be placed in the stocks for shameful behaviour. They may also be removed from the government if a fair trial proved they have deliberately and with no good reason changed what they claimed to believe.

The government is to be revoted every 3 years, and the process will take up only 1 month.

There is no limit on the amount of time someone is allowed to be in the government, however if they are in the government for 9 years, they must take a 9 year brake before being nominated again.

The King/Queen may nominate themselves for government, but they cannot vote themselves in.

For new laws to pass there must be a 75% agree vote between themselves.

All meetings between the government are open for the public to view, including ones discussing pandemics and catastrophe. Only meetings discussing an ongoing war may be closed of to the public if they deem it appropeit.

The King/Queen may sit on whatever meeting they wish, unless they are not in a sober state.

The King/Queen may force new laws or regulations they want to create to be discussed first on a daily basis. The government may then choose to vote in the law (75% agreeing to it) or suspend it for 1 week, but it must then be voted on. Only 1 person need ask for a law review to be suspended for a week to put forth the motion.

Justice:

Citizens have a right to fair trial.

King/Queen or Prince/Kinglet/Queenlet are only ones allowed to sentence people for up to 2 weeks in the stocks without trial or other humiliating duties for misdemeanours, given they or her guards are witness to it. Most people will be put through to fair trial, this law is only for if King Opusername is about when it is witnessed.

Laws of the land

Human rights exist, many of that already associated with UK right laws will still exist but with the following permanent addition, food, water, medical care, and electricity needed ensure environmental conditions and basic food.

Rice is out

Potatoes are in

You may purchase avocados and other not Newski food as a treat.

Exceptions allowed only for people with many allergies/intolerance where this is not personally sustainable.

3. Basic human rights for prisoners exist, more advanced rights such as the right to vote are not available to prisoners sentenced to life in prison. Humans in the stocks have a right to water and shade/jumpers, and a 30 minute brake every 2 hours.

4.  Criminal justice can vary from stocks and other humiliating duties, to re - introduction to society- to life in jail, and banishment. There is no death penalty…. ….. …. … … .. .. maybe a request for some prisoners to do the honroable thing and kill themselves. (pedos and nazis)

5. Fighting is allowed, but only within the arena, fighting outside is a serious crime, and assault. - yeah i think we should bring arenas back. I mean boxing still exists but I want to see my neighbours across the road fucking hash it out in the arena, I’m betting on billy.

6. False news, or deliberately misleading news is forbidden, reporters caught writing articles with no previous source to suggest they thought they were honestly writing the truth will be banned from journalistic jobs, spend time in the stocks or humiliating duties, jail time, and face possible banishment for being dishonourable.

7. Everyone of the age 14 or over must attend town or government meetings for at least 1 hour, 6 times a year. The 6 hours may not be ‘spent’ with in one week. This rule does not apply to those in extreme mental or physical illness that makes this impossible.

Home Owning/Renting:

All land is rented through the King/Queen.

Some homes can be rented for a monthly amount, with normal renting rules applied.

Other homes can be (“brought”) “rented” for their entire value, for an unlimited amount of years.

“Renters” who had paid the full value of their home will have full decorating privileges of the inside of their house open to them, and the owning of pets would be down to them. The decoration, or painting of outside of the house must first be granted permission, unless it redo decoration that has aged. Only the removal/addition of walls must first be granted.

“Renters” who have gardens have almost full decorating privileges to plant, whatever they like, however they wish. The only exceptions come with:

Large tree to close to houses that could cause damage

Ponds (planning permission need but most likely granted)

Pools (probably not granted.)

Covering the land with cement if forbidden

Covering the land with plastic grass if forbidden

The use of gravel in small quantities may be granted (permission needed.)

Objects that can be moved, tables, are free reign.

“Renters” who have paid in full and wish to sell their home may only do so to the King/Queen, but it being brought back is guaranteed. “Renters” will receive in full what they paid for it, possibly with the addition of inflation, or more if it well decorated. If the house is in need of repair, major cleaning, or some objects need replacing they may receive less for it.

It is down to “renters” who had paid the full price of the house to look after the house, if however the roof or something similar that will cause major damage is in need of urgent repair and they refuse to have it repaired, repairing will be arranged for them and they will be billed.

Cleaning of the outside walls of the house will be free, and mandatory, as these are for aesthetic purposes.

Home “owners” can be removed from their home in the case that they pose a threat, or are wildly mistreating their home. They will receive their money back for it. This will only happen in the case where they seem dangerous, or leave piles of rubbish in their garden, or animal poop (in the case of their own dog, this does not apply to chickens or other smaller animals) for an extended time and, have ignored 3 warnings to clean up.

Royal Businesses :

All business can be rented or “rented” from the King/Queen.

If a business is shite, the King or Queen can shut it down.

If the owners are miserable bastards their business can be shut down. Listen, I try to use small shops occasionally, and I walk in to see some ugly sad miserable bastards, then I ain’t gonna come again bitch, am gonna go to fucking tesco see wanker.

Unless the owners have a mental/physical illness that makes them appear to be miserable bastards. - a fair and just king/queen. No one else is excused, with the exception of book shop owners, and librarians, I mean I’d prefer if you weren’t but you do you. No one else do you.

All people working around food must wear hair and beard nets. Why are fast food places the only places getting this right. stop being groesss!!

OTHER

Guilds

Fish

fish

….fish? fish guilds.

Fighters guilds.

The guards are like police- but they aren’t. ACAB!!! they’ll brake up a fight. help people with shopping, keep an eye out.

detective guild for crimes commited- like the guards are busy doing day to day stuff. It may sound extreme but imagine this. You are in the uk, your stuff is stolen. You phone the police. They come to your house, they give a nod and say, ‘yep thats stolen’ thats literally all that fucking happens. No police. just guards and detectives.

guards are mostly just going to be dragging drunk people to their homes, or holding incase they throw up and accidentally kill themselves.

mental health emergency guilds - listen, you can’t have a man in fucking armour to try and talk a jumper off a roof, or to help calm down a large man have a tantrum.

what if someone takes a jewellery store hostage? Thats… that going to need different different professional people, probably the outside/talking mental health worker would be better for that than any guard.

stop criminal scum - OR PAY WITH YOUR LIFE.- newski guard catchphrase.

other notes on why creating a self sustainable news is possible - it only takes 1 acres of potatoes to feed 1 person 3000 calories every day for a year. I mean.. i guess you could have some bread or something if u wanted...

also i know I'm totally gonna get roasted for this, but consider this, i spent a damn long time writing this

[spurgie-cousin]

I had an abortion on the tail-end of leaving religion. I did feel bad for months afterward but only because I thought god and my family would hate me because (at 19) I was too emotionally weak to go through a pregnancy and give up my baby. I was dealing with a mental illness I didn't even know I had, I had no job, I was being 100% supported by an ex bf dragging myself through school.

Without the stigma religion attached to abortion, all I would've felt was relief. It's been almost a decade and I still can't bring myself to tell anyone in my family even though we're all so close. Because many of them are still religious, it's my biggest fear that if I did tell them they'd respect me less or even worse, love me less. Even though I would be in such a horrible place without the option of abortion.

Only 3 people in my life know i've had an abortion because of the lingering shame and fear my fundie lite church engrained in me. And I mean it from the bottom of my heart that that's always been the only negative feeling for me associated with my abortion; fear of judgement from the people closest to me.

In a time where states are completely removing the option of abortion for women, I'm trying to gather the courage to be able to say publicly, "I had an abortion and it was the best choice I could've made for myself at the time. If I gave birth in any capacity, my life and possibly the child's life would've been miserable. I do not regret it." I feel like a coward that at 27 I can't openly admit that.

People like Lawson or friends on facebook who share pro-life memes insinuating that I am evil and heartless for my choice honestly get to me. I've wondered more than once if I'm heartless and just can't see it. When I believed in god I'd cry because I didn't think he'd love me anymore.

1 in 4 women have abortions and it's insanity that we can morally shame them so publicly and take their bodily autonomy away so easily.

I'm getting less coherent because I'm getting emotional but if you take one thing from this post let it be this: The only emotional pain I've ever experienced from my abortion was inflicted on me by other people who didn't agree. I don't regret it. Have empathy for people, whatever your beliefs.

[b0x]

i hate that post that's like “we would've gotten a better trilogy if they'd just let rian johnson write all three films than playing hot potato with jj” like i get the point it's trying to make but you're forgetting that rj was fighting tooth and nail for the tlj r*ylo narrative since day 1 so you do realise we would've just gotten the same trilogy as we got now.......

further Thoughts on the trilogy as a whole and a few troc spoilers under the cut

also you KNOW that even if jj COULD have had a hand in saving it... there’s no saving a screenplay written by the guy who did the justice league films

No Comment. No Thoughts. Head Empty. everything post tfa was doomed from the start

have you SEEN the screenwriters for tfa? THAT’S why that one was so good, THAT’S why tfa succeeded as an excellent reboot of a long-dormant franchise. kasdan and arndt and jj should've been on for ALL THREE, and if they couldn’t, then a hiatus was the way to fucking go. rian never should have Touched it, never should have even Looked in its direction.

tfa had the essence of sw BECAUSE the essence of sw wrote it! tlj and tros isn’t sw!!!! 

they rly just tried to make Anakin..... 2! with kylo... but somehow... even Worse. you can’t make an anakin story Without showing kylo’s motives and morals - oh, except, you Did show his motives and morals, and they were in no way redeeming whatsoever! anakin had a whole ARC of complexity that allows for endless discussion on morality and justifiability that led him to earn his redemption. all kylo had was a blood tie to han and leia, which!!!! if anything!!!!!! made his motives and morals WORSE, knowing that he had the most IDEAL most loving and perfect upbringing and he still chose the dark side. that makes any love received from han or leia or luka or even fucking rey completely insignificant because we ALREADY KNOW what it means to him. all of this shit was so worthless!!!!!!!! fuck!

and i have a lot to say about rian johnson because i Cannot for the life of me believe the guy behind BRICK (2005) was taken on for tlj, WHILE TFA WASN’T EVEN FINISHED YET. i really didn’t think this had to be said but that is just NOT how you make a Trilogy. that is how you make Three Separate Films and guess what! that is exactly what we got! and it honestly saddens me to think that the guy behind the beautiful 6 minute music video ‘oh baby’ by lcd sound system, inspired by some of his greatest work in looper (and even brick!), would then take the absolute worst of his worst and apply that to a star wars franchise that desperately needed his best. and there’s something hilarious about that too, that you have this huge sandbox FULL of belief-suspending ridiculousness and STILL somehow make it fail? make it atrocious? that takes skill. it’s like that one post that was like “you have to ACTUALLY put EFFORT into making something this bad” like it’s no longer silly mistakes or lacklustre energy, this was ACTIVE sabotage.

the fact rian Had the Understanding of the core concepts of star wars right in his hands, but somehow completely missed the entire point of them? if you look at the films he screened to his story group during the development of tlj... this handful of culturally and historically significant war films that just seem like he screened for aesthetic and reference purposes only instead of actually exploring and analysing the importance and criticism of the exonerating war propaganda and racist source materials and using these films to inspire the actual groundwork of some of the root themes of current climates and today’s culture in a sw universe... i bet big bucks on the fact that twelve o clock high was only screened to inspire the air battle on crait (red salt planet) and because of ‘VIII Bomber Command’ because ha ha hee hee tlj is episode VIII and hoo hoo hoo *you’ve been gnomed.mp4* 

the general rule is this: when reading ANY report on tlj and tros and something like “the characters came first” is mentioned, just exit out the window, it’s already a botched article/thinkpiece.

i’m also thinking a lot about how arndt translated his first draft for tfa into a script for eight months and said he needed 18 more, which disney and jj said no to, so he left, and IMMEDIATELY after jj kept saying how relieved he was that the release date was delayed and gave him more time that he also needed. like.. you had your lesson then and there. did they learn from it? *disney forcing rian to write tlj at the same time as tfa was still being made* No!

i am ALSO thinking about how they had considered fincher, brad bird, jon favreau, del toro, even getting development suggestions by spielberg.......... and rian johnson is who they called up for tlj.... my head is... empty.

just give the fucking thing to taika waititi he understands the nuances of the socio-political climates of sw’s narratives built around a guise of a fun sci-fi fantasy adventure-drama. he understands. that’s literally the very definition of his style of writing and directing. Makes You Think Why The Mandalorian Is A Hit.... they already gave him 2 mandalorian episodes just give him the whole franchise i cant take it anymore. 

AND NOW THEY’RE GIVING RIAN JOHNSON A WHOLE NEW TRILOGY? RIAN? RIAN JOHNSON? THEY’RE GIVING HIM A WHOLE NEW TRILOGY AFTER WHAT HAPPENED... HERE. SURE.. OKAY . ALRIGHT. IT’S HONESTLY MIND-BLOWING. THE THOUGHT PROCESS THAT GOES INTO CONSECUTIVE DECISIONS SUCH AS THIS. like i would LOVE to see footage of the board meeting for this. no sarcasm i am GENUINELY curious to hear what was said to greenlight this. i have GOT to know what post tros board meetings about this will be like. 

anyway! op of that post! i will be thinking about you when the new rj trilogy drops!

what’s worse about this whole trilogy is that.. they Had it. they had it in the bag with tfa. they HAD the original idea they HAD the power to make a sw trilogy set to current climates JUST LIKE THE PREVIOUS TRILOGIES DID, cos that’s what sw is all about! what it was ALWAYS about! a space opera reflective of current times and climates. but disney turned it into a Keeping Up With The Skywalkers reality tv show that’s nothing more than a sci-fi fantasy light show and vfx flex to keep the brand alive, and personally, i think that’s ultimately one of the reasons it’s so hated and why it failed (of course rampant misogyny/sexism, racism, homophobia under the guise of geek culture within the sw community and in the production itself is a whole other discussion and is another humongous part of why it’s hated and why it failed)

and it’s why hamill had every right to criticise tlj the way he did with rotj, why boyega and isaac and ridley had Every right to their commentary on their distaste of the second and third instalments. how the only reason they’d rescind what they said was due to their contracts. how their silence was necessary to squeeze every last dollar out of consumers because god forbid a potential boycott due to their own star’s “controversial” (Correct) judgements and disapprovals

they really had it in the bag..

a female protagonist who could be a chosen one regardless of her blood and family ties, a protagonist that reflected the importance and validity of found family, and the idea that Anyone can be a “Skywalker”, a symbol of hope and a fighter for justice and goodness and love in the world, especially in the darkest of times... a young woman being just as powerful, as Chosen, as essential as Luke and Anakin were... a narrative that couldve been commentary on the necessity of women needing to do double the work, make double the effort, to earn the same spot of her counterparts. and with the second and third instalments, especially NOW, with the growth and vocalisation of the MeToo movement, the narrative of strength to speak out against abusers, to fight back and to thrive, a symbol of justice, to teach that men such as kylo who refuse consequence, who actively and soberly choose violence and manipulation for the strengthening of the self, who will ignore and deny all opportunities to better the self, to know their guilt, to make up for their actions, are the ones who are irredeemable. that people like him are not owed any time or understanding or belief in, when that belief perpetuates the violent and oppressive nature they are indefinitely attracted to and make themselves defined by.

a black hero raised by violence and refusing to be defined by it and unlocking the force within as a symbol of that strength within over encompassing goodness, to have a hero that breaks that harmful narrative stereotype that black characters have had for decades and still continue to do so, to have a voice and a hero that fights with love and kindness, that is able to find family and support in a place beyond what he believes he is allowed to have, the significance of a hero being deemed a “traitor”, a term that holds weight in the shame of seeking your own independence and identity, versus the cathartic empowerment of thriving in the independence you make for yourself in the end. a black hero that defeats his oppressors, oppressors that belong to a policing fascist regime, a faction that has always from the very beginning been a depiction of nazis, of authoritarian nationalism. 

a canonical gay latino man freedom fighter, being the best in his career as a literal symbol of hope for the resistance, a literal symbol of the climates for lgbt folk in regards to resisting those same fascist nazi regimes, resisting laws against lgbt existence, lgbt employability, lgbt success. a man who grew into a legacy of heroism, surrounded by it, something that could have been powerful poignant commentary on the necessity to sacrifice lives so others like his didn’t have to, the very narrative to fight for a world that the innocents and the ones he loves could have peace in, could have a future in, could Exist in. poe fights in the skies because he knew damn well the effect of believing in someone that is human, like you, instead of a force that is bigger than anything you could ever know or believe in. poe brings humanity and realism to an otherwise fanatical universe of magic and religion and chaos of endless war that means nothing, that is based on nothing. poe is commentary on fighting a fight that you have no choice but to fight, that you are forced to fight from birth just for the very act of Existing. his humanity and realism is a significant grounding necessity for our two protagonist heroes and it is appalling that he’d just be discarded the way he was, shallowly played off as sideline comic relief, much like lgbt narratives and characters are expressed in pretty much ANY media today, so it comes as no surprise. 

the three most vital narratives that should have been told in this trilogy but no of course not (disney voice) gimme my Fackin MANEY. it’s the silence of marginalised voices cleverly disguised under hollow face-value representation.

honestly, even rey being blood-related to palpatine as his granddaughter was such a strong and perfect set-up for The Narrative That Could’ve Been TM, but instead they had palpatine make it a whole weird pseudo-marriage thing that was just so. backwards and unbelievably shocking that it was in a 2019 era star wars film.

wow marriage story and the rise of skywalker really is the same movie huh

yes we wanted a grey jedi protagonist hero that gets tempted by the dark side but this was the absolute worst way that could’ve been explored. like if they were just gonna recycle old characters and old storylines and make them worse they could’ve at least looked at darth maul or asajj ventress and the nightsisters

and NO WONDER oscar looked so DEFEATED every time finnpoe was mentioned cos he fought for that shit tooth and nail and they? ? ? they gave him a funny ha ha hee hee hoo hoo straight flirt scene? ? with like his ex or something, where they imply they get back together? COMPLETELY destroying the ENTIRE narrative of his character that was so lovingly built and developed in the Official Canon Comic Series About Him ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

NO WORDS. there are NO WORDS. head EMPTY. no not even empty there's NO HEAD at all i am BEHEADED

finn had NOTHING in this film. Nothing. how are you gonna make him a joint-protag with rey and give him Nothing? 

anyone with brain cells knows that what finn truly was trying to tell rey the entire film was that he was force sensitive, i will take this to my grave, and that should’ve built up to this grand reveal where they empower each other and take down palpatine and kylo as one, as the joint-protagonists they were Literally Fucking Written And Built Up To Be. they gave EVERY antagonist to REY. what was the POINT. rey had her significant clash with kylo across two films, hell, even in this one (before the Final one), tros was the penultimate film about her family, her bloodline, so her significant final battle should have been with palpatine a la rotj. the person who DESERVED to clash with and take down kylo once and for all was FINN, even a TODDLER would understand WHY. 

but considering everything, i would take the thing finn was trying to tell her the entire film being that he loves her ANY DAY if it meant whatever the fuck we got instead Never Happened.

finn got made general and not only was it a blink-and-you-miss bit but it adds NOTHING, yes it’s something to celebrate and of Course he deserves it, but it holds zero significance to him as a character. like i mentioned earlier, when han was made general, that never defined him. he was still han solo and it took a Dozen other significant scenarios and twists to make him a significant and vital memorable character. han solo isn’t known for “being a general”. he’s known for being han fucking solo, a critical puzzle piece in the taking down of the empire, a scamp-turned-deeply-loyal friend and lover, a man who not only got his own personal storyline concluded to the level it deserved to be (the repercussions of his bounty hunter life, the importance of the falcon, his relationships with lando, luke, and leia, his triumph over his captors even when it was luke and leia who freed him). 

side note, this was maybe the one thing that tfa screwed up, the entire point and development of the original trilogy, it sort of felt a bit moot with how they put a “twist” on han, leia and luke’s relationship, especially when it came to kylo. but i think there are some forgivable aspects to it for the sake of the new trio, and that’s why those executive decisions kind of Worked! this is, of course, for another discussion bc this is about the new trilogy.

leia IS known for being a general because part of her entire storyline revolves around it and the significance of it!!! which is why finn being made general just feels so... i don’t know! just completely disrespectful, to both him as a character, and to generals who are defined by this position (such as, hello!!!!! poe!!! poe fucking dameron!!!! a man raised by the resistance!!! a man who’s entire life and prior legacy was entirely dedicated to the resistance!!!! him being made general MEANT something). it’s like rubbing salt in the wound of the fact that finn has been discarded as the protagonist he was meant to be, the story, development and conclusion he never got, just to slap general on him and call it a day and then write about his actual development in a novel that 3/4ths of the ppl who watch the films will never read. 

and that's just the core story stuff!!! do NOT get me started on the general lore proposed in this shit. i’m talking about the force ghost nonsense and the convenience of some of the timing choices (rewriting the way death works in sw, claiming that rey “didn’t really die/wasn’t really dead” since she didn’t fade which in itself completely destroys the entire plot they were going for with the resurrection scene, the timing of the fades themselves bullshitted for “dramatic cinematic purposes”), the entire palpatine storyline, the bullshit with snoke and the lack of explanation, all these one-off characters that have the lore capacity of an overwatch character when instead they could have developed the ones that already existed and had the opportunity to be fleshed out and CARED about

the FACT that HUX (hux!!!!!!!!!) had a more interesting storyline in all three films with a total screentime of maybe 10 minutes than these one-offs whose only purpose is to stroke the cock of sw nostalgia seekers and lore aficionados. to make these characters so inaccessible that to fully appreciate them, fans have to dive into hundreds of different novels and comics and games and whatnot. like if you make it so that the Only way someone can experience a character’s full essence is by reading their wiki page then you’ve failed in creating them, in writing them, in including them, in using them, in whatever them. you’ve just failed as a creator.

and the ONLY reason hux got a reaction (a barebones reaction but a reaction nonetheless) out of me was because they essentially just turned him into phasma 2 which is SO telling of the climate of this trilogy.

it’s a recycled trilogy. that’s all it is. it’s a recycled series of films where tfa’s originality was completely entirely scrapped and ignored because rian wanted to write his personal fanfiction more than he wanted to continue the story he was given, and did everything he could to insert that whenever he could, and kennedy, of course, let him, because she realised giving herself indulging content other than fifty shades and radfem articles that she could jerk off to was more important than telling a critical story where its wonder and valuable, influential morals could’ve stayed in this generation’s minds for years to come.

if you want to watch tros just watch the prequel trilogy instead you'll get the same story except actually good.