#watch me post more vincent after this too goddamn it

[deva-arts]

doing asks except now I realize I've mostly been vincentposting >:( I feel betrayed by myself

[fallenandinlovewithhumanity]

Watched 9-1-1 for the first time (and caught up) Here are some unsolicited and unfiltered opinions about our fave gay firefighter show.

Bobby Nash: Must be protected at all costs. Traumatized dad doing his gosh darn best. So happy he is loved by the 118 and that he seems to be accepting that more now.

Athena Grant: There's a post out here somewhere about how people named after gods/goddess embody that deity. And Athena? Yeah she does exactly that. That woman deserves so much respect for the badass she is.

Howie "Chimney" Han: Silly goofy man who needs a hug and appreciation. His storyline with Kevin and every parallel to Albert made my heart hurt.

Evan "Buck" Buckley: Sweet baby boy, the firefighter Dean Winchester of another universe. I LOVE THIS MAN. Seeing him smile on screen is so infectiously amazing and I want to send a strongly worded letter to all the writers who are clearly trying to make sure I stay in the "fix-it" tag of Ao3. He is by far my comfort character in the show and someone needs to tell that man that he is loved.

Eddie Diaz: If I had to describe my type in two words it would be "Eddie Diaz." Holy fucking shit. (<- written by Buck.) But seriously, I've seen some stuff about how he's not the "best" latino representation because he does not have any specific cultural storylines ( I would love to see celebrations or other cultural things too, maybe for 8B and onward) but I for one feel represented plenty by his complicated relationship with expectations coming from his parents, partners (former or otherwise,) and himself.

Hen Wilson: GIVE THIS WOMAN A BREAK. I love her and it seems like she is always hurting when it comes to her family. Please give my queen a goddamn break. Some domestic bliss would do her kindly.

Maddie Buckley Han: When I say that I would die for her to be safe and happy, I mean it. The Buckley siblings have dealt with so much but Maddie, her storylines not only hit something compelling and dramatic but they are also too fucking real.

Christopher Diaz: I love him. Amazing. A fucking king. No Notes. Please come back to your dad(s).

Carla Price: LOVE THIS LOVELY HUMAN.

The Grant-Nash Fam: Harry and May are interesting characters and I really do love seeing them on screen, I understand why we see less of them though. Michael and David were lovely as well.

The Wilsons: Imma repeat what I said earlier, give them an episode where the biggest thing to happen is juice boxes getting left behind. They need a break. And give Karen more damn screen time that isn't just crying and fighting with Hen.

Josh Russo: the pre-Glee/ post Glee explanation was gold.

Captain Vincent Gerrard: Grumpy old man that needed a cozy job. Loved his "taking you under my wing" moment with Buck.

The Bigger Love Interests (Eddie):

Ana: I really liked her character, but saw how much anxiety was embedded into that relationship. She was never sure of her place and he was never sure he was ready.

Marisol: This felt weirdly rushed and like it happened mostly off screen. The nun thing was... catholic guilt intro I guess??

Shannon: Oof. The drama, the need for closure. I enjoyed having her on screen and I cried when she passed.

The Bigger Love Interests (Buck):

Abby: He was much more invested in the relationship and I think part of it was the circumstances but the way she left him was so damaging to his psyche. Not a fan.

Ali and Natalia: They did not leave a lasting impression on me. Though Natalia being interested in Buck because he died did raise some red flags.

Taylor: Listen... I love her fierce independence so much. But she did Buck so dirty. Trust issues and abandonment issues for Buck coming right back up.

Tommy: Narratively speaking, I tried to understand why he happened but I don't. His confusion at the beginning of the relationship just made me think that he just went along with what Buck thought he wanted. As a character, that man felt a bit one dimensional, and when he showed an ounce of personality it was always an interaction with Buck that made him feel lesser than. I feel blessed that man is off my screen.

The Writing/ The Plot:

At this point I am watching for the two idiots sharing a brain cell. But.. the disasters and plots are out of left field and really interesting. It takes a lot for a procedural type show to not fall into formulaic/ average 911 calls and I feel like at least one writer has a subreddit or something pinned to get ideas. I am far too invested in the 118 to leave now.

What do I ship at this point?

Buck and Eddie.

Athena and Bobby.

Maddie and Chim.

Hen and Karen.

Would I recommend this show?

Abso-fucking-lutely... if you enjoy some pain, I swear all these characters go through so much and the tissue boxes are not enough.

Thanks 9-1-1 for bringing me back to Tumblr.

And if anyone has headcanons, I would love to hear them!

[cococat07]

MDNI TY

(Smut) (TW: Talk about s*x in detail)

I have a few select fav slashers ;)

Tommy Hewitt ❤️💋

The Sinclair brothers 🩷

RZ Michael Myers 💜

Like OMFG

Let me just start by saying Tommy’s body is perfect. He is muscular af but fat, so you can cuddle and have the best hugs 😭

Also let’s be Real, Fat Guys Fuck Better

——-Sorrrrry

He’s also so protective and his long beautiful hair gets me sm. I would do anything for him, Anything.

I already love big men, but he just really hits the mark goddamn.

I would want him to carry me like a princess. 👑 He’s so strong it’s nothing on him. He would happily oblige. Ofc I would cling on to him, feeling as much as I can, and kiss him and then rest my neck on his shoulder.

When we were alone or in public, we would def f*ck

We would find a place to be alone and start by making out, tongue and all. Then I’d have him sit down, so I can go on him and basically hug him so he can hump me.

I would also touch his 🍆 and he’d be rock hard and HUGE.

It probably wouldn’t even fit but I’d make it work. After he was ready I’d have him lay down and I’d go reverse cowgirl on that shit. But I’d do whatever he wanted cause I’ll love it too. BJ ofc, anal sure. I’d also have him suck my nips cause that shit reallly turns me on. I bet he’s great at it too. 🍒❤️ Idc where he cums, in me on me doesn’t matter. His choice. 💦

🩷When it comes to the Sinclairs they each have very different personalities. Bo’s hot because he’s assertive and doesn’t fuck around. He would also be very protective but may be rough that’s kinda hot so 🙂‍↔️ He is thinner but that’s okay I don’t mind he’s still strong and probably has great dick game.

Vincent is more soft to me for doing hobbies and not as sexual stuff, but he still can be sexy so fuck it yk.

And Lester is just fun and he makes me laugh so more likely too be friends, but who knows if he gets me just right.😉

💜And RZ Micheal

Holy fuck he’s HhhhOooTtttt

His face is so sculpted and he’s hot even when he wears his masks. He’s tall and big, just how I like them. And he would also be very protective. He would kill anyone for me, all I have to do is say the word. He can be gentle and he can be rough AF. I like the thought of soft at first. Gently putting that thick dick in. Then as we get more comfortable we increase speed and try different positions. A great one would be doggy for speed. But he would probably like missionary so he can see my face and tits. Even if not sex than cuddles would rock. He’d just spoon me and caress my hips. We’d eat and watch movies it would be amazing. We could also go out to eat or go to amusement parks and just have fun like kids. Spend quality time together yk. 💋

If you read this whole post——Congrats 🎉 Ty Lol

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

Alright, everyone. It is time to talk about my favorite accidentally detailed character. This motherfucker right here:

Vincent played by Nils Wetterholm.

I'm going to tell you right now, I adore this boy, and you all should, too. I don't care what he does in season 2, I fucking love him. Now, you're probably thinking "zee he had 2 minutes of screen time, how can you possibly know anything about him?"

WELL LET ME TELL YOU

So, Vincent seems like an overall typical rich boy. He's kind of a douchebag, he definitely cares about class, and he's not very nice. We see him bully Simon in the first episode, and we hear him talk about bullying Simon a few times after that. He's not kind. He cares about class. A lot. Even with his "best friend" Nils.

But, he's not as bad as he could be.

He wears brighter colors than the rest of the society boys. I've already touched on this in a previous post, but I'll mention it again. Throughout the series, the characters who are more open to change wear brighter colors. Those who are not open to change wear darker or more neutral colors. I'm going to put a big ol' warning right here that this could have been completely unintentional in the costume department and I could be making this all up. But Vincent wears brighter colors that all of his friends. More than August, more that Nils, more than Wille. This could suggest that he's more open to change than his counterparts.

Vincent doesn't seem to like the idea of getting people thrown out of school. With the Alexander and Simon thing, he didn't seem too excited about either option. Not like the other boys were. In fact, despite knowing Simon brought the drugs in, Vincent doesn't suggest they pull him into it. His first idea is to find a way to bribe the headmistress so everyone can stay. Was it a crude suggestion? Absolutely. Was it one that saved everyone? Yes. Vincent didn't want to get anyone kicked out of school. Even when August suggested they sell out Simon, Vincent looked hesitant. Again, this could have been accidental. This could have all been accidental.

He gives Wilhelm the benefit of the doubt. The entire series we watch people tell Wille he's not fit to be royal. We watch people tell him he's not good enough. We hear his family tell him that he needs to grow up and stop being selfish. It is a common theme for people to tell Wille he's not good enough. But August asks Vincent what kind of king he thinks Wille will make and Vincent says, "he'll be ok, I think." He adds that Wille isn't as "into the royal life as Erik was" but he doesn't say that it's going to affect what kind of king Wille will make. Vincent gives him the benefit of the doubt. He takes a minute to think, "yes, this kid isn't super keen on being king, but he'll be ok."

NOW, let's talk about the goddamn drugs. Because holy shit, when I realized some of the mannerisms from Vincent that related to this, I simply lost my mind.

Vincent needs the ADHD medication.

They're his pills. The ones August is taking are Vincent's pills. He is gladly giving them up to August so that August can take them. There might be money involved, but it's never said. And August goes out of his way to say that he "ordered and it got stuck in customs." So part of me wonders if Vincent isn't selling them to August. He might just be giving August the pills to hold him over. So Vincent needs the pills, and he's not taking them because he's giving them to August.

And we see how it affects him.

Throughout the entire series, Vincent is in his own little world. Go back and watch. You'll notice it now. Every time someone is talking to him, he's not paying attention. Every time he's in a tense room, he's walking around. Every time he's with Nils he does something completely off task (stealing his hat, that weird thing on the wall, hubba bubba mega long). You get what I'm saying, the boy can't focus.

Vincent can't take his medication because he's giving it to August, and it's fucking with him.

So, in conclusion, all of this could have been accidental, but I adore him. I think we should all adore him. I think Vincent is the best possibly accidental detailed boy there is. He's a good friend, he's a decent human, and he's an amazing character.

Everyone should love Vincent. Here, take more pictures:

[workingforitallthetime]

welcome, playoff canes shippers!

are you feeling lost and lonely now that the flyers, sabres, red wings, or stars are headed out to their offseason tee times? are you left holding a big bucket of shippy feelings and you don’t know which direction to fling them in? well, the carolina hurricanes are here to teach you how to love again. c’mon, let’s fix you up with a canes ship for the playoffs.

If you like: bitchy cats who hate everybody you should try: sebastian aho/teuvo teräväinen

finn it to win it, baby! aho/turbo has a very ace/aro life partners vibe, where both of them don’t like anybody but maybe deep down they would begrudgingly admit they like each other. please don’t watch this clip of them playing fortnite together... it’s so boring and they’re so happy. they must be in love because nobody else in the world would put up with this shit.

if you like: a flirty little minx and a confident older mentor you should try: vincent trocheck/martin nečas

so you’re a simple guy/gal/nonbinary pal with simple needs, and those needs are a twink posting thirst traps in his boxer briefs and an older bearded guy ready to show him the ropes. i am sorry to tell you that andrei svechnikov/jordan martinook is very much not this ship. but! fortunately the canes offer you an even better alternative: sugar boo marty necas and paisan vincent trocheck. necas is the team baby despite being older than svechy, and trocheck was acquired from the panthers at the 2020 trade deadline and has responded by becoming a leading goal scorer who’s gunning for an A next year. check out this gif of nechy getting aggressive when a former teammate gives vinny a friendly little bump.

if you like: a handsome young superstar and the lovable fourth line grinder who’ll fight for him you should try: jordan martinook/andrei svechnikov

look, i already made you a wholeass primer about why this is the best ship in the entire goddamned nhl. if you’re not on board yet, i give up.

if you like: chirping as a love language you should try: dougie hamilton/warren foegele

yes, i understand svech is in that photo too. that’s just a bonus. svech should be in every photo, frankly. but ignore him for a moment and let’s focus on the absolutely divine dynamic that dougie and foegs have when left alone together. foegs keeps bitching and bitching at dougie, trying to get a rise out of him, and dougie just placidly lets it roll off his back. exquisite. get married about it.

if you like: best friend boyfriends you should try: dougie/svech or brock/marty

FINE i GUESS a lot of people ship svech/dougie but it is not as good a ship as svech/marty and i will die on that hill. however if you like sweet dorky college boyfriends who move to the big city and get a cat, these guys have you covered.

HOWEVER if you are more into rough and tumble BFFs who might have grown up together riding their quads around the gravel pit, let me offer you bottom-sixers brock mcginn and jordan martinook. these dudes are the beating heart of the carolina hurricanes. brock is practically indestructible and energy guy marty makes the entire team better regardless of his own stats.

if you like: HIM BIG you should try: jani hakanpää self-insert

the canes acquired a finnish old god at the trade deadline and we all immediately turned into this girl. this thor-faced motherfucker cooks elaborate meals and posts photos of them on his instagram, and he looks great in glasses. go on, y/n, indulge yourself.

however!

if you like: some real fairy tale bullshit you should try: jani hakanpää/sebastian aho

(full credit to @marmolita​ for conceptualizing this ship for me.) once upon a time, 18-year-old sebastian was spending one last season with kärpät before going on to tear it up with the hurricanes, and 23-year-old jani landed with kärpät after a couple of unimpressive seasons in the ahl. i imagine lumbering jani, his nhl career slipping out of his grasp, watching young phenom sebastian from across the ice, fast and sharp-toothed and absolutely off limits. (sebastian’s dad worked for the team!) fast forward five years and jani ends up in the canes locker room in the stall next to sebastian’s. only now sebastian’s all grown up and knows what he wants. delicious.

if you like: twink4twink you should try: andrei svechnikov/martin nečas

these big-pawed puppies do a very enthusiastic chest bump before every game. once they went on a romantic getaway for spring break. sometimes i zoom in on this photo just to look at svechy’s shoulder freckles.

[slashmebois]

You make me breathless

“Hello! How are you? I hope you are very well ;) If you don't mind, could you write about Bo's reaction to an asthmatic reader? being fucking soft on him and freaking out when he tries too hard? How to mount your thigh? I suffer from asthma attacks, you know, it's hell when everyone treats me like a baby, but deep down I enjoy it, thanks in advance and see you!”

 Thank you so much for your request @ !! I hope this fits what you wanted! I kept this GN up until thigh riding, so if y’all aren’t the owners of a va-gi-na you may wanna stop reading at that point.

I’ve not written NSFW before so sorry if it’s a lil cringe haha.

Disclaimer: My only experience of asthma is a close family member who has pretty severe symptoms. If any of the information I put in is incorrect, please drop me a message and I’ll do my best to educate myself and edit the post! I used information from Asthma UK to inform my writing.

Okay first, some background.

When you first arrived in Ambrose and Bo was chasing you, he thought it was hilarious when your asthma started to act up (he’s an asshole, I’m sorry). But he did feel a little teensy bit guilty about that later…

Leading on from that, if anyone does anything that triggers your asthma, well Bo is gonna be pissed.

Both Lester and Vincent have been kicked in the ass for doing so. Vincent is just so quiet that he scared the heck out of you by accident, and Lester bought that cleaning product that sets you off because he wasn’t listening properly.

Boy really thought you needed CPR the first time you had a big attack (he just wanted an excuse to kiss you okay). He’s since learned to keep an eye on where your inhaler and Volumatic spacer are so he can grab them quick.

If you have a preventer inhaler, he tries to remind you to take it.

He’s also a little overprotective (see bullet point two) and panics a little because he doesn’t really understand that sometimes the cause won’t be obvious. He has literally run around holding up things to you and asking if that is what was causing it.

It can feel like he’s babying you since he drops whatever is happening if you get the slightest bit breathless.

But also he drops whatever he’s doing, which is kind of sweet.

Initially he got pretty proud when your symptoms triggered whilst you were getting it on. Once you’d recovered and explained it to him, he realised that whilst he loved the idea of you finding it hard to breathe around him, that maybe, just maybe it wasn’t actually a good thing.

 Tonight, was the night. You were determined. Tonight, was the night you would make Bo realise you are an independent and goddamn sexy adult who can take care of themselves.

He had been babying you all week. The pollen count in Ambrose currently was astronomical and setting off your asthma big time. You had been trying to get down and dirty, but every time you had felt your airways tightening and Bo had scrambled for your inhaler, before holding you and kissing your head. And he always refused sex after. You were pretty sure he thought that’s what was causing it at this point.

You dressed yourself in your tightest, most revealing clothes, adding a garter underneath for good luck. You felt sexy and powerful. You just hoped Vincent wasn’t chilling in the kitchen to see this. It had happened before and yes; it was embarrassing for everyone involved. Striding down the stairs you glance over to the kitchen table. Okay, phew. The coast is clear.

You’re thankful as you step into the street, that the air in Ambrose is always warm- come summer or winter. You hear the music coming from the garage before you see Bo come into view. He’s singing along, focused on the car engine in front of him. You lean against the garage door, watching him with that warm fuzzy feeling of love. You’re so thankful you found him.

He turns and jumps a little, before eyeing you up and down slowly- a devilish grin working its way onto his face.

“Well that is a nice view” he whistles, his eyes locking with yours, “what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion…just wanted to look nice for myself” you spin on the spot, giving him the full view.

“For yourself huh?”, he makes his way over to you, laying his hands on your hips and leaning in close to hum in your ear, “and could little old Bo get any of that, or are we strictly keeping this to ourselves?” he punctuates it, by pulling you close enough to feel his erection against your back.

You gasp audibly, “I guess I could share a little. Sharing is caring and all that”

His laughs rumbles, And he starts walking you towards the basement, gripping and grasping at you as he does.

By the time you reach the basement, you’re already moaning and can feel the growing arousal between your thighs. He manages to jostle the door open and picks you up, wrapping your legs round him to carry you over to the chair.

Bo, leans back and just studies you before going to town on your neck, nipping and sucking and groaning, “how the fuck did I get so lucky baby”.

You’re a mess before he’s even touched you down there, and struggling to form words, “Bo…uhh…oh my-YES”

His hands paw at your chest, kneading the flesh before moving south to cup you.

“Someone’s excited” he grins, but you can hear he’s nearly as breathless as you.

His fingers start to move down there and it’s little bits of electric. You’re panting and grabbing at his back,

“please please please”

He pulls his hand away and you groan in dismay. The sensation is quickly replaced, you squeak as he rips your bottoms off and kneels before you, putting his mouth on you and sucking hard.

You can feel yourself quickly approaching climax, but then it happens. Your throat tightens and you gasp inward, your breath not quite reaching your lungs.

Bo is immediately off you, “where’s your inhaler, where is it baby?”, he looks so worried, fuck. This is so unfair. You point over to your discarded bag and he rustles through it to find your saving grace. He tosses you the inhaler, and picks you up as you use your inhaler, placing you down in his lap.

You take breaths in, letting the medication sooth your airways until you can breathe again. All the time, Bo is muttering reassurances and sweeping you hair back from your face to kiss your eyelids.

“It’s okay baby, you’re all right. Don’t worry. We’ll get you to bed”

You can feel the angry tears threatening to spring from your eyes, “I don’t want to go to bed Bo. I am not a baby! I’m a fully grown adult and I want to fuck. Jesus!”

He stills, a little stunned, “You think I treat you like a baby?”, his tone is dark.

“Well…I…I just feel stupid.”

“Oh no, no, no. That’s fine. I can treat you different if you like”

Before you can respond he has you over his lap and his hand is coming down on your backside. You yelp in surprise, “B…Bo”

---GN ends, reader is person with vagina from here on out---

“Ah-ah, call me daddy babygirl”

You feel a shiver of delight pass through you, “yes daddy”, the groan that emits from Bo is unworldly.

He spanks you again, and you moan, squirming you legs together beneath him, “please daddy”

“Please, what?”

“Uhhhn, please touch me”

“Come sit on daddy’s knee”

You lift yourself, desperate to please him so he’d please you. You start to sit sideways across his knees, but he stops you and pulls you toward him so that you have a leg on either side of one of his knees.

Confused you start to question “what in the heck are you doing?” but before you can finish the sentence, he grinds his knee up into your core and ohhh…oh fuck, that feels good. Your legs clamp tightly around his leg, and you start to press down, “mmm. Please. Please daddy, that feels so good”.

He grinds his knee again and grabs your hips, pulling you down onto his thigh more. You don’t need more encouragement, you start moving your hips with him, mewling out his name and expletives. You leave a trail of your wetness along his leg, and fuck if that isn’t hot.

“Tell daddy how good it feels pet. Mm, you like that don’t you?”

“Daaaddy, it feels-mmmf-it feels so good.”

“Whose doing that to you?”

“Y…you are Bo. Oh my god. Oh my god. pleeeease”

Your face is flushed and your hair sticks to your forehead as you feel the mounting tightness in your stomach pooling down.

“Yeah I am baby. You gonna cum for me? Gonna make you cum just using my thigh huh?”

You try to respond but your orgasm tears through you, and you just wail in a mix of pleasure and slight pain. Your breath is short, but for a different reason this time. You’re still for a spell, trying to catch it again, and trying to decide if you’re still on this plane of existence. You realise that the whole time Bo is just staring at you, a big smile on his face.

“What?” you laugh.

“Nothing, just think I’ll have to stop treating you so precious huh? Kinda liked this side of you”

You pout, “I don’t mind you treating me a little like a baby. But only a little.”

He barks out a laugh, “Alright, alright. We’ll compromise. You can be my spoilt baby during the day”, he leans in close to your ear, his thighs movement against your slit making you jump, “but at night I’m treating you like this. You get an asthma attack, fine we’ll sort it. But I might have to punish you for making me worry”

You bite your lip, feeling a second wave of arousal hit you. Fuck, at this rate you’d be cumming a second time real soon. He catches the look in your eye, “Guess I better get to work on you again”

[ohmygarlands]

No Goodbyes

(Warning: this story deals with heavy subject matter)

Gene rushed to the house on Evanview as fast as he could, barely stopping even for the red lights. As soon as he heard the desperation in Vincente’s voice, he knew it was serious. He slammed the car door behind him and dashed inside, tearing up the stairs to follow the sounds of Vincente’s sharp knocks against the bathroom door.

“Judy! Darling, please come out…” Vince begged, his hand on the doorknob.

“What the hell’s going on?” Gene asked, breathing heavy.

“She locked herself in, I can’t get her out!” He was becoming hysterical himself, “I don’t know what to do, Gene! I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Fuck!” Gene muttered, standing in front of the door, “how long has she been in there?”

“About a half an hour, I tried everything. I thought maybe she might listen to you…”

Vincente learned of their affair shortly after The Pirate. He saw them carelessly stealing kisses at the wrap party nearly a year ago. Oddly enough, it didn’t bother him anywhere near as much as he thought it would. He felt almost relieved. When Gene was in the picture, she was happy, stable, and much less erratic. It took a load off his shoulders and he was able to look the other way, sinking himself into his work. But when things started to go sideways and her moods became more turbulent than ever, he could look away no more.

Gene knocked twice first before trying the door handle, “Judy… it’s me,” he said as calmly as he could. He could hear her breathy sobs on the other side of the door, “Open the door…”

“I can’t,” she said in a strained voice.

“Why can’t you open the door, Judy?”

Vincente grabbed Gene’s shoulder, “Maybe we can jimmy the lock, I’ll go get a knife.”

Gene nodded before turning his attention back to Judy, “Judy, why can’t you open the door? Talk to me…”

“GO AWAY!!” She suddenly screamed.

“I’m not going anywhere, do you hear me?”

“Please, just leave,” she cried.

“Tell me what happened…”

“I can’t,” her voice was shaking.

When Vincente returned with a knife, Judy’s manager Carlton Alsop followed behind him. He too tried to get her to open the door but their attempts, including the knife, were futile .

“Vince, what the fuck happened to her?!” Gene asked, becoming irate.

“She came home from the lot, tired. I didn’t think anything of it. She said she was going to lay down for a while. All of the sudden, I heard her screaming and found her locked in the goddamn bathroom!”

Carlton bolted into her bedroom, in search of what he knew he’d find. When he returned, he carried an empty pill bottle. Gene’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“We need to get her out of there!” Carlton said, “keep talking to her Gene! Keep her alert. This was full yesterday, she needs a doctor,” he said frantically rushing for the phone in her room.

Gene could feel a lump forming in his throat as his eyes began to water, “Judy…”

“I just want to sleep…” her voice became soft and lazy.

“Then why don’t you unlock the door, and we’ll get you into bed. You can sleep as long as long as you like, please…” Gene begged.

Vincente turned to face the wall opposite the door, leaning his forearms against the wallpaper.

“They’ve done it, they’ve killed her! They finally killed my beautiful wife!” He cried.

Gene leapt up and grabbed Vince by the collar of his shirt, “shut the fuck up!!”

Just then, Carlton came back and broke them up. He pulled Vincente aside and tried to calm him down so Gene could focus his attention on Judy. Suddenly, the sound of a glass breaking followed by another loud sob came through the door. The three men looked at each other in horror.

“JUDY!!” Gene cried, sliding down to his knees with his hand on the door knob.

“Please just let me go…” She sobbed.

“Judy,” Gene’s voice became quiet, “don’t do this… I’m begging you.”

Judy’s cries became a little clearer, he could tell she was now up against the opposite side of the door. He leaned his forehead against it, “my life began when I met you, Judy, you gave me a purpose, you taught me how to live my dream. You never gave up on me, not once… and I’m not giving up on you. Not now, not ever…”

Judy’s sobs had settled to skipping breaths. He glanced over at Carlton and Vince, feeling their eyes piercing through him.

“Please, please unlock this door…”

A few moments later, he heard a click in the doorknob and Gene jumped up to open it, finding Judy leaning against the wall holding her legs as she cried. Gene could no longer fight his own tears as he gathered her in his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she wept into his chest. Gene bunched her sweaty hair in his hands, sweeping it away from her forehead.

“Shhh,” he whispered, rocking her like a small child.

As her doctor tended to her in her bedroom with Vincente, Gene and Carlton made their way downstairs, giving them privacy. They went down to the kitchen and sat at the large island. His hands still shaking, he lit a cigarette, inhaling for what seemed like minutes.

“What do we do now?” He asked, the smoke falling from his mouth.

“She needs help, Gene.”

“Right, what do we do?” He repeated.

“You’re not understanding me. She needs more help than you or I, or Vince could ever give her.”

“How do you know? Maybe there’s something we can do.”

“She’s been getting worse by the day, Gene. Her moments of clarity and of joy are becoming fewer and farther between. Her mood swings are more violent than ever, one minute she’s laughing and—“

“The next, she’s in tears,” he finished his sentence.

“I visited her last week on Annie… I stopped by to see her, she was so happy to see me, she was all over me… I made a harmless joke about the feather in her hair and she completely lost it. It’s like she took on an entirely different personality, I didn’t even recognize her voice.”

“Then you know…”

“I didn’t know what to make of it. I remember what she went through when we made the Pirate.”

“This is different. If we don’t do something fast, she’s not going to make it much longer.”

Gene sighed, slamming his cigarette in the ashtray as his jaw clenched, trying to hold back another wave of tears.

“There’s a hospital in Boston I’ve been trying to get her into for several weeks. The second I realized the path she was going down, I reached out to their top doctor.”

“Boston?”

“They specialize in this sort of thing. It might be exactly what she needs.”

“It’s on the other side of the country!” Gene began to panic.“Why can’t we help her here? Her family is here, her friends… I’m…” he stopped himself, glancing down at the table in front of him.

“Los Angeles is like a prison cell to Judy, this is the last place she needs to be.”

“Have you told Vince about this idea of yours?”

“Yes…”

“And?”

“He’s not happy about it but he’s willing to let her go.”

Gene leaned back in his chair, he knew it would be best for her but after tonight’s episode, he had a very hard time pushing his selfishness away. He wanted more than ever to be with her, to hold her and never let her go.

To their sheer relief, the doctor informed all three of them that Judy had caused no serious harm and that they managed to get the pills out of her system before anything damaging could happen. Carlton left that evening shortly after the doctor did, and after making sure Vincente and Gene were both ok. The gentlemen had discussed further the notion of sending Judy to Boston. Carlton agreed to work with her doctor here to ensure they could set up an admittance appointment as soon as possible.

Sitting at her bedside, Gene watched as she slept. He gently swept his fingers up and down her bare arm, he knew how much that relaxed her. Her skin immediately responded to his scarce caresses. She rolled over and slowly opened her wet eyes.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Gene whispered with a slight smile.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she said, her voice so weak it broke him all over again. He shook his head and moved his fingers up to her face, running his thumb along her eyebrow and down her cheek.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“Well, you’re going to go see some more doctors, and we’re going to sort everything out, I promise you. You’re going to be just fine.”

“But what if I’m not?”

“I’m sorry, Garland, that option just isn’t on the table.”

“I’m so scared,” she began to cry again.

“I know you are, baby, I am too…”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“I told you I’m not going anywhere… We’re going to get through this. I will do whatever I need to to make you better.”

“ I love you,” she reached for his hand.

“I love you…” He leaned in, placing a soft lingering kiss against her forehead.

Gene couldn’t sleep. He laid in bed, more wide awake than he had ever been. He stopped checking the time when it passed two a.m. The only thoughts that went through his mind were of Judy. Their intertwining lives had become more strained than before. Carlton was right, her moods were all over the place, particularly so when she started filming Annie. Regretfully, their time together had been much less frequent. He was in the thick of post-production work for one of his biggest features, On the Town, which at one point took him away from her all together. They saw each other when they could but part of him couldn’t help but to place the blame on his absence. He helped her navigate through the flames on The Pirate, but as Carlton said, this was different. She was falling deeper and deeper into an illness that he couldn’t even begin to understand.

He threw the linen sheet that was covering him from the waist down to the side and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He knew if he laid there a minute longer, he would drive himself to hysteria. Instead, he decided to drive himself to a bar. He threw on a sweater and grabbed his keys. He stumbled into the Mocambo, the club was nearly empty except for a few couples huddled anonymously in the back of their booths. He sat himself at the bar and signalled for an Irish whiskey. He was handed his drink when a sudden slap on the back startled him, making him spill a little on his sweater.

“What the fuck?” He hissed, turning to find Frank beside him.

“Sorry, Shanty, didn’t mean to scare ya. I just saw you come in, what the hell are you doing here this time of night?”

“I was thirsty,” he flatly replied, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, listen,” he began, taking the seat beside him, “I got a favour to ask you…”

“What?”

“I’m planning a romantic getaway with Ava and I’m in need of the perfect locale, that’s where you come in,” he grinned. Gene shot him a side-eyed glance.

“Your boat!” He blurted, “are you planning on using it this weekend?”

“No,” he answered, tapping his fingers on the bar to get the bartender's attention.

“Well how ‘bout it then? May I borrow it?”

Gene took a moment to answer, sighing.

“I’ll be your best friend!” He begged, pathetically.

Gene shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t care, take it.”

“That’s my boy!” He pulled Gene in by his neck but Gene pushed him off.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He asked, backing into his seat.

“Forget it.”

“Uh oh, troubles with a certain brunette we both know? Just tell her she was right, buy her some flowers, you’ll be outta the dog house in no time.”

Gene snickered, if only the solution were that easy, he thought.

“Sure,”

Frank paused for a moment, looking at him analytically. He was a little taken aback by his whitewashed and expressionless face, “What’s going on with you? Are you alright?”

Gene shook his head ‘no’, tightening his lips.

“I’m failing her, Frank.”

“What?”

“Ever since her and I collided nine years ago, she gave me somebody to be. She never gave up on me, she never let me fall, I exist because of her. And now… she needs my help and there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do for her.”

Frank crossed his arms, his elbows resting on the bartop, he took a deep breath in before trying to respond, “I heard about what happened,”

Gene furrowed his eyebrows, how the news about her travelled so quickly, he didn’t know. It was one thing he fucking hated about this town.

“You never know what’s true and what’s fiction in those god awful columns. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

Gene closed his eyes as a single tear fell down his cheek, “I’ve never felt so helpless in my entire life.”

“Listen, I don’t know the whole story, but I do know one thing, you’re not failing her, Gene. Mayer is failing her, even Minnelli is failing her. You? You are providing her with an escape. She once told me a long time ago now that she forgets ‘Judy Garland’ exists when she’s with you. You make everything she’s ever been afraid of disappear.”

“Then why can’t I make this disappear?”

Frank didn’t have the answers Gene was looking for. He and Gene sat silently together, and he watched as Gene drowned himself with another double. He saw to it that he didn’t drive home that night and instead opted to take him back to his place where he could dry out in relative peace. He didn’t want Betsy to see her husband like that – Gene had moved into his own bedroom, their marriage as they knew it had ended months ago but they both decided to remain under the same roof in order to keep things simple and beneficial to Kerry – but Frank wasn’t sure how much of Judy’s situation Betsy was privy to, nor did he want her to see how it affected her husband.

Gene and Stanley Donen were overseeing the editing process for On the Town in a building clear across the studio lot. He kept quiet while Stanley interjected his thoughts. Gene was usually the vocal one, especially when it came to perfecting a film that he poured his blood, sweat and tears into. Gene quietly excused himself, making his way through the large doors that led outside to get some air. As though it were on queue, Judy appeared right in front of him. His heart sank as it always did when he saw her, but when it was an unexpected encounter, it hit him differently.

“Judy…” he spoke.

“Oh, thank God I found you!” She said breathlessly, placing her arms on his elbows.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, putting his arms around her waist without a care for who may be nearby.

“They’re making me go away for awhile…” her brown eyes began to fill, “to Boston. I’m being admitted to a hospital there for a rest.” Gene’s reaction was a blank one which took Judy aback, she didn’t know he had been in on the conversation between her husband and Carleton.

“I’m, I’m leaving tomorrow,” she continued.

“What?!” He exclaimed.

Judy’s face crumpled before a stream of tears fell from her eyes.

“Ok, ok…” he pondered, trying unrealistically to figure out a last minute way he could make all her troubles vanish into thin air. He knew she would be leaving, it was only a matter of time. But the suddenness of her departure threw him completely. Judy pressed her cheek against his chest and he held her. “You’re leaving tomorrow?! I didn’t think you’d be going so soon… I thought we could… I,” he stumbled and Judy pulled back, looking up at him.

“You knew?”

Gene softly nodded, “Of course, I knew.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” She asked him, her tears suddenly stopping.

Gene exhaled deeply through his nose, “No, baby. You’re not crazy, you’re just… tired. You need rest, you need routine,” he paused, “you need help.”

“You don’t think you can help?” She asked, her tone beginning to change in an uncomfortably familiar way.

“Don’t.”

“I just asked a question.”

“Don’t try to pick a fight with me the day before you leave, I know exactly what you’re doing and I’m sorry, but it’s not going to work, not this time,” he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. Judy raised her head slightly and his lips travelled naturally to her mouth, holding her in his warmth.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I want to take you out tonight… on a proper date. A romantic dinner, maybe a stroll along the pier, just the two of us. What do you say?”

“I have so much to do, Gene,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

“Please… I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to, I need you.”

Judy widened her eyes and coyly smirked, “that’s a tempting offer,”

“I’m a desperate fool, what can I say?”

“Pick me up at our usual spot at 10. Don’t be late,” she smiled, pulling away from him.

Judy and Gene walked hand in hand along the beach, each carrying their own shoes as they felt the cool sand between their toes. The moon reflected beautifully on the Pacific and they stopped for a moment to admire the sight in front of them.

“I have to hand it to you, Mr. Kelly, that was probably the nicest evening I’ve had in a long time,” she cooed, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Oh, my darling, you don’t think it’s over do you?”

Judy looked at him with an eyebrow raised, “We’ve had a lovely dinner, walked along the beach, hmm, whatever else could you possibly have in mind?” She purred seductively, leaning her forehead against his.

“Judy Garland, you vulgar little thing, you,” he teased, Judy’s mouth dropped. “I was merely pointing out that we have a lot more beach to walk,” he said, holding his arm out parallel to the shoreline. Judy laughed that delicious laugh of hers and for a split second, Gene all at once felt like everything would be O.K. again. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder. As they stood there quietly, listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the opening bars of Bing Crosby’s Only Forever faintly travelled from a radio belonging to a couple in the distance. Judy’s mouth quickly shaped into an evocative smile.

“What?” Gene matched her expression when he looked down, catching her.

“Listen…” She whispered.

Gene was quiet, cocking his head to the side, “What is it?”

“You don’t remember?” Judy asked him, wide eyed, “The night we met, all those years ago, this is the song we shared our first dance to at the Copacabana.”

Gene closed his eyes and hung his head in shame, “Of course it is…” he murmured.

“My knees were shaking,” she reminisced.

“My heart was racing,” he added, pressing his forehead against hers, “you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”

“I looked like a duck,”

Gene laughed, pulling her in closer against his body, “a swan.”

“What was going through your mind when we were dancing together that night?” She asked as they swayed back and forth to the faint music.

Gene let out a smiling sigh, “well firstly, I was scared to death that I’d be mauled if I even made the slightest wrong move with you. Remember there was a circle of eyes upon us?”

It was Judy’s turn to laugh, “Oh, yes, I remember that, all too well. What else were you thinking?”

“Well… there was one brief moment that I can remember so vividly. We were cheek to cheek, moving slowly on the dance floor, much like we’re moving right now, and I must have cracked a joke or something –I’m assuming about how uncomfortable it was with everyone watching,” his voice became whisper-soft, “and you pulled back to look at me, almost as though you just needed me to see that I could make you laugh. I can’t explain it, but in that moment, you made me feel like I was the most important person in your world. What was I thinking? Well, darling, I never wanted to kiss somebody so badly in my entire life,” he smirked.

She pulled back in his hold, just as she had done at the Copacabana, only this time, she placed her lips on his and they kissed to the sound of Bing Crosby and the waves hitting the shoreline. Her tongue sweeping over his was euphoric. Their mouths always melded perfectly together and it took all of his willpower not to devour her right then and there. When their lips finally broke and their foreheads leaned against each other again, he spoke.

“What were you thinking when you locked yourself in the bathroom last week?” His question was so quiet it was barely audible. Judy’s eyes opened and found his peering back at her. The sound of his heart pounding was deafening in the silence between them.

“I didn’t want to die…” she explained. “I have a lot to live for, I have my baby,”

“You have me,” he interjected.

“I can’t explain what I was thinking, darling, all I could hear was constant noise in my head and I just wanted it to stop. I’m so tired. I just wanted to go to sleep, and stay that way.”

Gene breathed out through his nose, his eyes closed as he processed her response. He swallowed hard in an attempt to keep his own emotions in check.

“That’s why I need to go away… I need to sort out that constant noise in my head. Everyone thinks I’m crazy. I’m not. I’ve never been more ashamed of anything in my entire life than I am for trying that, you know.”

“I know, baby. What can I do? I need you to let me help…”

“You’ve done more for me than I could ever ask for.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,”

“Then you’re just going to have to take my word for it,” Judy placed her palms on his cheek and raised his face to hers, “you know what you could do for me?”

“What’s that?”

“Take me somewhere… with a bed.”

Gene laughed, halting his tears from spilling.

Room 204 at the Roosevelt was their room, it always had been, and by chance, it was vacant when they arrived at the front counter. They no longer cared who saw them in the foyer, Judy was already in the paper for a suicide attempt, and she joked in the car on the way there that the bar couldn’t be set any lower with the media.

It was their bodies melding together now, even more perfectly than their mouths. Gene had rolled over and turned on the soft bedside lamp when Judy climbed on top of him. Their future was a complete blur and the likelihood of being with her again any time soon was becoming dimmer and dimmer. He wanted to soak up every second with her and memorize every square inch of her incredible body. When the soft yellow glow illuminated the room, he was met with her tender smile as she placed her hand over his sternum. He drew in a sharp breath as she lowered herself onto him. Her smile shifted into an “O” and her eyes closed as her head fell back. He slid his hands up her thighs to her sides to grab a hold of her hips  as she rocked back and forth in an intoxicating rhythm.

He loved the way she rode him but the sensation now was too overwhelming and he was becoming more and more uninhibited with every stroke. He pulled her against his chest and swiftly flipped her onto her back, making her squeal laughing.

“You drive me crazy when you do that, you know?”

“I know,” she purred, sliding her hand down his cheek. He turned his face into her palm and placed a gentle kiss on the little creases.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to let you go,” he murmured.

Judy slid her hand to his mouth, pressing her index finger to his lips, “Don’t.”

Gene leaned forward and kissed her, reaching down for her wrist to bring it above her head as he entered her once more. Their fingers intertwined and the soft moans against his lips let him know he had effortlessly found her spot.

“No letting go,” she breathed in tune to their rhythm, “no goodbyes,”

“Whatever you say, Garland,” he purred.

They made love for hours, alternating between kissing, caressing, fucking, and laughing until the sun had begun to poke out over the horizon. The thin ray of sun that shone through the hotel curtains illuminated a perfect line up Judy’s spine as she laid on her belly with her arms tucked underneath her body. Her eyes were growing increasingly heavy as Gene’s fingers scarcely traced the beam of sun on her back.

“What time do you leave?” He whispered.

“Not until later,” she replied, her voice cracking.

“You should get some sleep.”

Judy unravelled one arm from underneath her torso and reached for Gene’s wrist, gripping it as though she were just trying to anchor herself to him. He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. By the time he reached her thumb, her breathing had deepened and she was fast asleep.

With a smile on his face, Gene’s eyes fluttered open and his arm immediately fell to Judy’s side of the bed. He shot up when he realized it was empty. When he went to grab his watch from the bedside table, he noticed a folded note standing on it’s side.

No Goodbyes.

See you soon, my darling.

All my unbridled love,

-J

[angelcatsiel]

I am so so tired so here is a brief bullet point summary which knowing me could end up being not so brief once I start typing

we didn’t dance or stay late for the Friday night party to save our energy but at one point I was just sat at my table crying happy tears because I was just so overjoyed to be there. honestly felt on top of the world

first photo op of the weekend was Alex Calvert and I forgot about the no contact photo ops until I was literally next in the queue so I walked up to him and went ‘uuuuhhhhh... pose...’ but thankfully came up with something random straight away (I’ll post photo ops later)

second was Jeffrey Vincent Parise and he was lovely! he misinterpreted my pose explanation but honestly I’m glad because I had no idea what to do and was just going to do the same as with Alex so it was nice to get something different

I met a couple of wonderful people in the photo op queues and I’m so sad I didn’t get their facebook names, I also had a very lovely guy sit near me and start a conversation while waiting for one of my photos to be called and tell me he was desperate to make friends because he had a hard time making friends and we had a really nice conversation

autographs honestly passed in a blur that day. I was so tired I couldn’t even make much conversation but I still enjoyed meeting everyone as always, Samantha Smith was very sweet, Ty Olsson was lovely as ever

DJ and Ty’s panel that day was hilarious. love those guys

Saturday night was party night for us and it very nearly killed us but it was worth it. I danced and partied and it caused me severe pain but I didn’t care. I got to hang out with some friends at this party too which was really nice

Sunday morning I had my Rob and Misha photo ops, both with the Impala which was amazing. that car is massive when you see it in person, especially as a british person where our cars are so much smaller

Misha STILL never fails to make me nervous. I don’t know what it is about him. I’ve met him so many times and I’m so comfortable around the other actors now, even the ones I hadn’t met yet like Rob, but Misha is just so weirdly intense, in a good way though! maybe he’s just too goddamn attractive. he told me he liked my sock monkey hat and he winked at me after the photo and I literally had a fucking leg spasm afterwards because I was shaking. you know what I’m gonna blame Misha for my seizure it was all his fault for being too good looking

I had the seizure while waiting to be called in for Misha autographs in one of the main hallways so that literally could not have been timed worse. luckily the people I was talking to beforehand were quick to grab a steward and get me help, and I had enough warning to get myself comfy and use my hoodie as a pillow. it was pretty horrible because I could hear so many people walking by and talking around me while it was happening and I felt so embarrassed but also very safe

a steward came over who was first aid trained and used to be a paramedic so he calmed me down and took care of me afterwards and helped me get all my autographs because I was struggling to walk, he was absolutely lovely. all the cast were very friendly and more chatty this time, especially Rob who was really nice! I got to have a sit down and recover after that and watch some panels

my Alex Calvert meet and greet was last and I got to sit almost right next to him and he was great! I asked him what tattoo Jack would like to get if he could get tattoos, he suggested a lightsaber on his arm. it was a very lovely meet and greet and everyone was very polite, I got to say a few more words to him throughout it and I think almost everyone there had a chance to talk to him. he also started loudly insulting Rob at one point whose m&g was going on in the same room which made me laugh

our coach home was at 2:30am so we stayed for the entire Sunday night party too. didn’t do much dancing as we were utterly exhausted but we did the con songs (somehow I survived star trekking twice) and we ended up missing our taxi to the airport because we absolutely had to stay for carry on wayward son at like 2am. we made the survivors photo and then sprinted to the front of the hotel and frantically booked an uber, the driver was a lovely guy who did his best to get us there quick and told us his stories of chasing down coaches for people in the past and was really apologetic when we missed it, I gave him a tip because he was honestly the sweetest

next coach was at 8am so I slept on the floor of a costa in the airport and I was so tired I actually did manage to get an hour or two of very poor quality sleep. got home at about 12 and took a nap in bed immediately

lmao yeah this did get way longer than I planned but anyway I had an amazing time and I’m completely and utterly exhausted and so so happy

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

ANTI-MOFFAT POST not being mean just discussing some thoughts but if criticisms of Moffat's writing upset you feel free to just move on!!

Bro it's actually kind of sad realising how horrendous of a showrunner (in my opinion!!!) Steven Moffat really is bc like. I remember me and my sister going to see the 50th anniversary special at the cinema and having the best time surrounded by a bunch of whovians in costume and everyone clapping at the end and now rewatching it I'm just like..... I want to like this but it makes not a scrap of sense!! I can suspend my disbelief massively when it comes to Doctor Who. I can forgive plot holes and inconsistencies galore, truly, but w Moffat shit is nonsensical literally from scene to scene. And when I say he's a horrendous showrunner I don't mean he lacks the ability to be a good writer, and in fact with oversight he can be a great writer. But without oversight he gets way too far up his own arse, plants and plants and plants with no payoff, and his real-life misogyny (among other things) bleeds into the very fabric of his characters, INCLUDING the Doctor (and then he had the audacity to have the Twelfth Doctor lecturing the First on sexism..... The lack of self-awareness is astounding).

Like genuinely I'm not a Moffat hater for the sake of it. When I was younger I did enjoy the early Matt Smith seasons and assumed the reason I never really understood or remembered the finales was bc I was too dumb, rather than bc it's just a bunch of loosely related scenes strung together and called an answer. I had issues with a lot of things at the time like Amy's weirdly sexual (yet rooted in childhood???) obsession w the Doctor, the fact we're supposed to believe that the Doctor and River are in love but only get that information in references or more weird hypersexualisation, the way the Doctor became the goddamn centre of the universe instead of just a traveller, humble in the face of the unknown. But I could still get something out of the show. Now, between catching up on S12 and restarting RTD era, I'm reminded of how it feels to really love this show without having to make so many excuses for it. No, it has never been and never will be perfect. A lot of the issues in MoffatWho were crumbs in RTDWho that he simply seized on and magnified. And I know there are ppl who genuinely love his era and you know what, I'm happy for you, cos I wish I did. But that's the thing, being a fan of MoffatWho was always something I was trying at; it was always an effort. Yet even as prepared as I was to give up on Doctor Who altogether by the time S11 came around, loving Chibnall's run is as effortless as it was to love S1 when I was 11. It makes it really hard to go back to something I mostly dislike just bc it's Doctor Who and I don't want to write off Eleven and Twelve.

Anyway I'm sure I will revisit those eps in the future as I'm a completionist; I doubt I'll be able to just skip them on a rewatch, and for all my negativity there IS good stuff in those seasons, whether it's Vincent and the Doctor or Hell Bent (edit: oh nononono I meant Heaven Sent I always get those two mixed up lol, Hell Bent is actually atrocious) or just Twelve being a crotchety janitor. But I'll never be as naive as I was when I first watched it again. I'll never be able to give Moffat credit that all his little "mysteries" are actually going somewhere. And after reading the disgüstingly misogynistic things he's said in real life I will never be able to give him the benefit of the doubt that the misogyny in his writing is just an unfortunate accident.

I really don't like to dump on creators for no reason so this is not about that. It's more just reckoning with the fact that something I was watching in formative years just does not hold up at all and that good memories I have of things like the 50th anniversary are tainted by the knowledge that the 50th anniversary..... Is bad actually. Like actually quite bad. And that just sucks dude!!

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: Battle for the Planet and Cameos

You know, I keep trying to be minimal with the amount of images I put in these posts, but I think it’s kind of a losing battle…especially when it comes to episodes animated by TMS like the second one coming later on today. I can’t help it, some of the expressions and poses are just too good to not be shared.

In any case, let’s begin with one very small cameo appearance in “Space Probed”:

Our little duo have apparently found themselves abducted by aliens, only to be kept in lab conditions much like the one on Earth at ACME Labs. This is one of those times where I wish I could know the production order of these episodes and not just the air date order… Why? Well, because this small cameo could potentially line up really well with an upcoming episode. Just keep that in mind for now.

With that out of the way, we move on to our next full skit:

And we begin with the Brain expositing to Pinky about how he came up with the plan for this episode.

“Halloween, Pinky: 1938. Mercury Radio Theatre presented an adaptation of H. G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’ that was so realistic, people actually fled the cities believing that creatures from Mars were attacking the Earth. It proved that radio was a powerful tool…and now, Pinky, the advance of technology has brought us an even more powerful tool. Do you know what that is?”

Before we move on, how many of you reading this have heard about this? And how many of you know that this is actually an incident that happened in real life? Yes, people actually fled their homes after hearing this broadcast. Not a lot of people, of course. Not by a long shot. Most just made panicked phone calls to their local police station or to the radio station itself to find out what was really going on. The incident also wasn’t nationwide or anything like that, it was quite local. If anything, the radio play caused much more outrage after the fact than initial panic.

Another amusing anecdote is that Orson Welles was the man who directed, narrated, and played a main character in the broadcast. For those of you who may not be in the know, although Brain was initially based on animator and writer Tom Minton at Warner Brothers, Brain’s voice actor Maurice LaMarche based his voice on Orson Welles. Or, well, as Mr. LaMarche puts it: “The Brain is 70 percent Welles, 20 percent Vincent Price, and I don't know, there's another 10 percent of something else in there. I don't know what. Some people think it's Peter Lorre. I don't know what it is.”.

Strong references aside, I’m betting most of you can see the massive holes in the Brain’s plan already. Hoo boy…

“Umm… The rubber band?”

“The workings of your mind are a mystery to me, Pinky.”

“Ooo! I love a good mystery, Brain!”

You know, this little sequence with Brain nonchalantly stretching the rubber band while walking away from Pinky and Pinky determinedly holding on until Brain lets go off camera and sends Pinky flying is… Well, I don’t know what it is about it, but it’s kind of cute in a weird slapstick way? Like, it’s hard to tell if Brain did that on purpose to send Pinky flying for not understanding his plan…or if he actually wanted Pinky to follow him and tried to lead him to where he was walking but Pinky thought it was some kind of tug-o-war game and Brain got exasperated and let go of the rubber band.

Either way, Pinky doesn’t seem to mind.

“Television, Pinky, is our new tool!”

“We will pirate the airwaves and stage a hoax like ‘War of the Worlds’!”

Brain, you’re very good with that lasso. I’m impressed!

“Three cameras, Brain?”

“Yes… A technique pioneered by the great Desi Arnaz. And with them we will scare the people of the cities, leaving no resistance behind. We will have taken over the world!”

Well, Brain, that technique first being used by Desi Arnaz is a myth (it was more than likely actually pioneered by Jerry Fairbanks around 1947), but I’m going to give you a pass on this because you likely couldn’t fact check this very well at the time.

I do have to give Brain credit for being as dramatic as possible while announcing his plan, though. He really does know how to put on a show.

“Egad, Brain, brilliant!”

And Pinky is, as usual, full of praise and extremely excited about the plan. Look at him clapping and hopping around, aww… I’m starting to think that half the reason Brain goes through with these long, expository explanations of his plans to Pinky despite Pinky not quite following along a lot of the time is just to impress Pinky. Brain needs reassurance and Pinky always provides.

“Oh! Oh, wait, no, no…”

“Why would they be scared of us? We’re so small and we’re practically the size of mice, Brain.”

“We are mice, Pinky.”

“Oh, right! Well, there you are, then. Eh heh heh…”

…Okay, so, Pinky also tends to deflate the praise a bit when pointing out potential flaws in the plan like this, but it’s the initial thought that counts.

Yeah, I know, Brain. I know. But Pinky really is trying to be helpful.

“It’s not a question of size, Pinky. It’s a question of scale! Watch the monitor.”

“*gasp* Zounds, Brain! You’re gigantic!”

“Television, Pinky: The Great Deceptor!”

“Narf~…”

No, you aren’t seeing things. Pinky just…just stands there in front of the TV looking at live footage of a close-up of Brain and sighs in awe and affection while clasping his little hands together. I don’t even think I need to make a “Fellas, is it gay to--?” joke here. All that’s missing is little hearts appearing around his head.

We cut to a little while later, where the duo has everything set up for their broadcast. It looks like Pinky must have done the lettering for their props, since it actually looks decent and nothing like Brain’s scrawlings. Yes, I’m going to continue roasting Brain’s terrible penmanship. It amuses me.

“How is my disguise, Pinky?”

“OH! Is that you, Brain?!?”

“You flatter me, Pinky. Now, throw the switch and let us begin…the Battle for the Planet!”

Title drop! Also, aww. To be fair, Brain, I’m not sure Pinky was intending to be flattering so much as he was actually unsure if that really was you or not. But the fact that you took it as flattery is very telling, I think.

Pinky throws the switch, and the plan is officially underway!

According to the Animaniacs wiki, these people bear a striking resemblance to Elmyra’s family. If that’s what was intended, this is quite the early omen for the horrible “Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain” spin-off that was made after the regular PatB spin-off. I don’t think I’m going to fully cover that show in the far future. It’s not the fun kind of terrible…it’s just terrible.

Oh hey, they were watching Family Matters! Too bad this is many, many years before they could bear witness to Dark Urkle Tribute.

And there’s Ralph, enjoying coffee and a doughnut.

And…some TV station broadcast folks. It kinda bothers me that these two basically have the same model except for different hair colours.

“We interrupt your regular broadcast to bring you this important news bulletin…”

“What is that?!”

“Someone’s pirated the TV lines!”

“Scientists have just reported that a large, unidentified flying object seems to be heading towards Earth. There is no cause for alarm…”

“…But there probably will be.”

Subtle, Brain.

Oh, hi, Warners! You certainly picked a good time to escape tonight.

“We take you now to our satellite view of the planet, perhaps to catch a glimpse of this fearful courier of the unknown.”

Cue Pinky making ridiculous “shoosh” and “shoom” and “weee!~” noises. Very convincing.

“I’ve just received word that the UFO is about to crash land nearby. There should be a great explosion!”

“I said, THERE SHOULD BE A GREAT EXPLOSION!”

“Hmm? Oh! OH, right, Brain! Narf!”

Nice blep, pinky.

Somehow, people watching the broadcast are still terrified. I’ve gotta admit that I didn’t expect this plan to go this well for this long.

…Okay, maybe I spoke too soon.

“Sorry, Brain…”

“…We’ll go live to the crash site momentarily.”

He says before near-instantly cutting to the “crash site”, still in the same disguise. Brain, honey, I know you’re probably trying to reduce broadcast downtime so that the audience doesn’t start to question what they’re seeing, but you do know that quick cuts like this ruin the illusion of this being a live broadcast…right?

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course he doesn’t know that. As usual, Brain has tunnel vision and expects his plans to go one certain way, and any details that don’t fit his internal narrative are discarded or not even thought about.

Just let me slide on in…

“I’m reporting to you live from the crash site and I…I’m at a loss for words. Can we get a shot of this very frightening scene?”

He’s right. That’s the most frightening…ly obvious cardboard spaceship I have ever seen.

But okay, I love these tiny prop improvisations they had to do. The bare cardboard wings taped to some kind of spray can for the body of the ship, a stray water cooler cup for the cone, test tubes for the thrusters, random little sewing pins for some kind of antenna, a dirty beige blanket to simulate soil for the crash zone… It’s so hastily cobbled together yet so goddamn cute.

Ralph still seems convinced that this is real, though that isn’t saying much.

“I am now positioned close to the…well, I can only assume that this is a vehicle from outer space, its occupants here to destroy the Earth.”

“Oooo!~ OoooOOOooo!~”

“Wait! There is a strange noise emanating from inside. Something seems to be coming out of the ship!”

They made a glove into an alien space suit with a tiny peephole to accommodate Pinky’s face and they fashioned a little belt from something for it, aaaaa! This is so adorable! Look at Pinky trying to be scary! He’s just all >:B throughout this entire scene.

BUG FOGGER

WARNING

CONTENTS UNDE

EXTREME PRESS

GAS

I’m wondering why they couldn’t label it as “bug spray”. I’ve honestly never heard of it being called “bug fogger”. Is that an American thing? (Also: Tiny sandbag wall!)

“Oh my! It’s hideous! Ladies and gentlemen, I can hardly describe this terrifying creature before me, except to say: Run for your lives! Go on! Empty the cities! Leave everything behind!”

“I…I don’t know how long I can stay on the air. I’ll try to get to our aerial view in chopper five!”

Okay, it seems even Elmyra’s family and the broadcast folks are still under the impression that this is actually happening. And Brain instantly cuts again to the aerial view. Brain, I think you’ve been watching too many movies.

“Chopper five, high above the city. The horrible creatures from Mars…invading…destroying everything in their path! Oh, the humanity!”

Since this is a still image the impact is lessened but Brain is rapidly beating his fist against his side to simulate the sound of helicopter blades and it’s actually pretty effective. Well done, lil guy, I never would’ve thought to do something like that. Your foley work is great!

The milk carton buildings still have straws in them to make chimneys! There’s little Chinese takeout boxes as buildings, too! I’m so charmed by all these quaint ways they’ve made their props.

Also, the Pinky-alien has apparently grown to kaiju size now, somehow. Brain, you’ve got to make your hoax at least a little consistent!

“This is no hoax, ladies and gentlemen. I urge you to run for your lives while you can! We’re not making this up just so we can take over the world!”

Goddamnit, Brain. You are the worst liar in the history of forever.

“Oh no! It’s heading this way! Run for your lives! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

I just thought these cowering poses Brain did were funny and cute. He is so small and vulnerable…

So Pinky starts to menace the camera itself and—

—Oops. This isn’t going to go well.

Poor, poor Pinky.

“We did it, Pinky. Brilliant performance!”

Holy shit, sincere praise from Brain! I’m sure Pinky will treasure it.

“Undoubtedly, the population has fled in fear from their ‘terrifying enemy’, HA!”

Umm. About that, Brain…

“Let us make haste…to The White House!”

Brain, you may want to at least wait a little while so that people can actually—

Ouch.

WOW, who needs Twitter in this universe when the press is this fast?

“’Battle for the Planet is a comedy smash… World laughs together. Stay home for this one!’”

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

“Well, I think so, Brain…but if we didn’t have ears, we’d look like weasels.”

“[sighs] No, Pinky… Our hoax…no one went anywhere! No one fled the cities! They found us…humorous.”

If it helps any, boys, I also found you incredibly adorable.

“Where are you going, Brain?”

“Back to our cage, Pinky. We must plan for tomorrow night.”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night?”

I like how Pinky is at first concerned about Brain’s mood and then we he sees that Brain is just walking home to plan for tomorrow night he’s bouncing on his tip-toes after him.

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky: Try to take over the world!”

TO BE CONTINUED because apparently Tumblr finds this post too long otherwise,

[silver-wield]

Found a few more ficlets I thought I posted, but apparently didn't, unless tumblr ate them.

The biting cold wasn't much better inside the cave than out climbing the cliff face. The glacier was a hard task for the most experienced climbers and, Cloud and his friends weren't even close to that. So far, they owed a lot of their progress to luck, trust and teamwork. The flags left by former climbers, along with the odd frozen corpse warning them of what could happen if they lagged or lost faith.

It was hard on everyone. Aerith promised everything would be all right before she walked into the light, but mysterious words and a vague reassuring smile only took them so far. They needed something more to carry them the rest of the way to Sephiroth's hiding place.

"Aiya, why is it so cold!? Where's the fire materia!? Who's got it!? Hand it over!" Yuffie's complaining echoed through the cave, causing giant stalactites to tremor.

"Shh!" Barret put a finger to his lips, raising his eyes upward.

"Did you just shush me!?" Yuffie stomped her foot.

"Shut yer pie hole, Lassie. We don't wanna die."

"You're a robot, what you worried about?" Yuffie stuck her tongue out at Cait Sith.

"Yuffie, please," Tifa murmured, frowning. "We don't want to make things more unstable than they already are." She pointed up.

Yuffie pulled a sheepish expression. "Oops," she whispered.

"Oops," Vincent echoed in a bland voice.

Cloud hid a smile and looked around. "Could probably cut through that pathway over there," he said, nodding towards a snaking path that weaved upwards. It looked treacherous and slippery. They'd have to literally cut into the ground to give them something to grip onto.

"And just how d'you propose we keep our feet from going ass over head?" Cid questioned, pausing to blow on his gloved hands. "We ain't wearing skates."

Cloud frowned. "We'll cut a path," he explained, right hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

"Sounds risky to me," Barret replied. "If a loud noise makes those wobble like a bowl full o' jello, then what's hacking the ground gonna do?"

Cloud’s eyes narrowed, he wanted to get moving, not stand around talking. "You think a giant icicle'll get the best of me?" No way.

Tifa stepped forward as Barret opened his mouth to protest further. "How about we use the right tools?" She held up a hooked wall hammer and smiled.

Cloud ducked his head and smiled. "Right. The right tools for the right job." He'd been too hasty for no reason. He held his hand out for it.

Tifa tilted her head to the side and walked past him. "If we're worried about disturbing the area then someone lighter should go."

A dart of panic hit him in the chest. Familiar words, a similar situation. Wasn't it? "Maybe Red should look for a safer path."

"Hmm?" Red XIII stepped forward, flame on his tail flickering and casting a glow against the cave walls.

"Huh? Now we're not in a rush?" Yuffie looked from Cloud to Tifa.

"No, we are." Tifa shook her head. "Let's get this done quick." She shot everyone a reassuring smile and stepped forward.

"Tifa-" Cloud bit back his protests. "Be careful."

Tifa nodded. "No probs."

~*~*~

The first few strikes to break up the glassy surface went well. Tifa paused after each one, waited for the ominous shaking overhead to still, then struck again.

As a back up, Cloud still sent Red, Cait Sith and Vincent along another path to see if it looped around to where they needed to go.

"Slow and steady, T, you got this!"

Yuffie's quiet cheerleading set Cloud's teeth on edge. He opened his mouth several times to tell her to shut up, then stopped. She wasn't hurting anyone and was in fact helping keep Tifa motivated. His muscles still clenched like he was the one doing the job. The urge to hover and watch her back was strong. He knew she could handle herself and the danger was minimal.

"There." Tifa sat back and wiped her brow. "I think that's enough." She turned and gave everyone a thumbs up.

"Good job, girl," Barret said, nodding. He slapped Cloud on the back. "See? Ain't nothing to worry about." He followed up with a victory fanfare.

Cloud's eyes widened. He was already moving as the echoing crack died down. "Watch out!"

Tifa's eyes widened and she looked up as though in slow motion.

Snatching her by the hand, Cloud pulled Tifa out of the way as a giant icicle crashed into the ground where she'd been standing. "You okay!?"

"Shit, Tifa!" Barret took a step forward, then stopped. "Oh shit!"

The ground crumbled.

Everyone leapt towards the walls as a hole opened up.

"Whose dumbass idea was this!?" Cid dug his spear into a wall and grabbed Yuffie's wrist, as Barret leapt to a ledge and clung one handed.

Cloud and Tifa backed up towards the pathway. "Damnit."

"Is everyone all right?" Tifa let go of Cloud's hand and took a step forward. Her foot slipped and she gasped.

"Tifa!" Cloud dove for her as she slid towards the edge of the hole. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he spun them around and drew his sword.

"Cloud! Tifa!" Yuffie stretched a hand towards them as they fell.

"Shit! Toss 'em a goddamn line!" Cid fumbled for the rope attached to his waist.

Cloud slammed his sword into the wall and it cut into the icy surface, slowing their descent. He grunted with effort and felt his grip slip. The buster sword looked dingy reflected in the glacier. The blade hadn't dug in enough. It was sliding. It groaned with effort along with Cloud.

"I can't reach!" Tifa clung to him with one arm and stretched as Cid threw the end of the rope. As she swung out she lost her grip. "Cloud!"

"No!" Cloud let go of the sword and dropped.

~*~*~

Everything hurt, but something warm and soft brushed against his face. Cloud grimaced and opened his eyes. "Tifa?" She looked upset.

"Oh, Cloud." She looked ready to cry. The tight hug took him by surprise.

"What's wrong?"

"You're bleeding...and...you were mumbling."

What did I say? He put his hand to his head and drew it back. His vision blurred. Blood? Just like-? Pain lanced his skull.

"Cloud?" Tifa drew back and looked at him with concern. "What can I do?"

The soft look in her eyes calmed the ache. Words slipped past his lips without being filtered. "Stop falling."

"Huh?" She tipped her head to the side.

He pulled her back into his embrace and repeated the statement. "Stop falling." It hurt too much. He couldn't bear to see it. Not if he couldn't catch her. Still not good enough.

"Sorry. I'll try not to worry you so much."

Her arms around his shoulders felt nice. As did the soft puff of her breath near his ear that disturbed his hair. He could stay like this forever with Tifa beside him. Cloud closed his eyes and breathed deep. "Tifa-"

The sound of grit and ice particles sent him into hyper awareness. His eyes shot open and he was rising to meet the potential threat, pushing Tifa behind him with one hand and reaching for his sword with the other. His hand gripped air. "Shit." The buster sword was lodged somewhere high out of reach. He'd lost it. I was supposed to look after it. Another pain in his head had him gasping in pain.

"You're still alive, then." Vincent landed in front of them and the buster sword hit the ground soon after. "This yours?"

"Yeah." His answer didn't sound sure to his ears, but he shoo his head and dismissed it.

"You're bleeding."

"Yeah." He dug in his pocket for a potion.

Tifa picked up his sword and held it out. "Cloud, maybe we should find a weaponsmith soon?"

He frowned and shook his head. "It's fine." Looking around, he tried to get his bearings. "How'd you find us, and where are Cait Sith and Red?"

"We split up. They're helping the others."

He nodded. "Guess we should find a route." His gaze went to Tifa and his brows rose. "Something wrong?"

She didn't react, the slowly shook her head. "No, it's fine." As she walked past him towards a path Vincent uncovered, Cloud couldn't help but wonder if those words sounded as fake as when he said them.

[wishonastarx3]

I saw this coming... I’m so fucking tired of this.

I don’t care who reads this, if you actually know me in real life then you probably know that this is how I feel from my instagram story. I apologize in advance of the language in this post. These are my emotions and thoughts. (And yes I am aware that within the AAPI community there are it's issues, but that's not the point of this post)

I’m SO SICK AND TIRED of this shit. What happened on Tuesday WAS NOT OKAY. EIGHT PEOPLE ARE DEAD and SIX of them were ASIAN WOMEN. Click the hyperlink if you live under a rock or if you just don’t watch the news. I don’t know how you people live. 

The Asian and Asian American community in this country has been saying for the PAST YEAR that we are NOT OKAY and that we NEED HELP. Donald FUCKING Trump REPEATEDLY kept saying pre pandemic, “CHINA! CHINA! THEY’RE STEALING OUR JOBS!!! CHINA IS EVIL!!!” and of course his base bought into that. BUT when the freaking pandemic started it was “THE KUNG FLU” or the “CHINA VIRUS”. So now, let’s make the target on our backs EVEN BIGGER NOW!!! (I still don’t understand HOW there were Asians who voted for him... but that’s beside this point of this) 

This past year has had over 3800 reports of Asian American HATE CRIMES against us. These fucking cowards are going after our ELDERLY COMMUNITY like the BABY BITCHES that they are. WHY?! JUST FUCKING WHY?! What does this do for you? It makes me SO ANGRY to see these videos of the elderly community being ATTACKED and KILLED. I watched on video of a toisan lao (old Chinese Woman) in SF who was being attacked and she fought back against her attacker (AS SHE FUCKING SHOULD. HE ENDED UP IN A STRETCHER). But that really... that one really struck a cord with me as that’s the dialect my family speaks and it made me think “fuck. That could have been my grandmother. That could have been my grandfather.” Going after the community that doesn’t speak english, LITERALLY POWERLESS and that is old like a bunch of COWARDS. I, as a 5′9 Asian American woman from New York City has dealt with my far share of harassment... but the fucking elderly? Really? 

This pandemic has just gave them an EXCUSE to attack us. As if we weren’t already being harassed and marginalized before!!! But of course, one will say “but how can that be? Asians are the model! You guys are the best minority group out there. Everyone loves you!” HAR HAR MOTHER FUCKER

So lets set up some points

The Model Minority Myth - the “idea” that Asians are the smarter minorities who end up becoming the doctors and lawyers who are good at math, science and end up going to Harvard. I’m sorry... what? This is pathetic. AND A FUCKING MYTH  I’ve dealt with these AWFUL cliches and stereotypes. Are they good stereotypes? Sure...? BUT do you understand:

What that does to the individual? What about the Asians who do not want tot be doctors? What about the Asians who then have to deal with the mental illness that goddamn society created for us? (I’m not even going to go into the lack of Asians in entertainment business. That’s a whole separate headache.)

WHY ARE WE IGNORING THAT IT’S ONLY A SMALL GROUP OF ASIANS THAT END UP DOING THAT?! Are we going to IGNORE the Asians who don’t go to Ivy Leagues? Or the ones that are living below the poverty line? 

This literally created the Racial Triangulation between the minorities! White people have put Asians on a pedestal in comparison to the other minorities and YES other minorities HATE us for that reason.By saying that we are the “Model Minority” it LITERALLY creates this thought that we better than the “other minorities” but yet we still ain’t white. So we aren’t a part of the majority therefore putting us in no mans land. 

THE NEGATIVE stereotypes - OH and TRUST ME there are A LOT. These are just the ones at the top of my head. 

The FETISHIZATION  of Asian Women - this shit ain’t new. This is literally what the term “yellow fever” means when referring to MEN who only like Asian women. The fetishization of asian women LITERALLY GOES BACK TO 1890s when the short story “Madame Butterfly” was written when a WHITE MAN was in Japan and fell in love with an Asian girl (WHO WAS 15 BTW). There are literal journal entries of European and American men who were in Asian at the time who said LITERALLY SAY HOW EXOTIC Asian Women are, that apparently our vaginas just “feel different”. I’m sorry... WHAT?! I HATE nothing more than when I have dealt with men saying some bullshit about how “exotic” I am. Also lets not forget how American society has de-masculinate the Asian Man. Saying that have small dicks and that they are skinny and scrawny, therefore aren’t men. So you like only half of us? 

Our Food - WE DO NOT EAT DOG. I grew up being told “YOU EAT DOG! YOU’RE CHINESE!”... fuck you. And now, Asian food is seen as “amazing” I’m happy you like our soup dumplings and bao. But you were the same fucking people who told me I ate dog. So you love our food but not the people? Okay. I see you. Oh and I didn’t forget about the people who have gagged at Asian food. 

Mocking how we look and our language - Am I the only Asian American who had people pulling their eyes and saying CHING CHONG at them? Please, get hit by a bus. And isn’t ironic how now “fox eyes” are a make up trend? funny isn’t it? 

People telling us to “GO BACK TO CHINA!” “GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM” 

I’m sorry. Who educated you? Asians have been in this country since the 1850S. WE BUILT THE DAMN RAILROADS. SOME OF US WERE KIDNAPPED HERE TO BUILD THAT SHIT. (Another note is how ASIAN AMERICAN HISTORY IS NOT TAUGHT IN SCHOOLS. This needs to be addressed and changed.) 

Also for MYSELF - my GREAT GRANDFATHER BUILT THE DAMN RAILROAD and SERVED IN THE ARMY in WWI. My Great Uncles were in the Air force in WWII and my GRANDFATHER served in the KOREAN WAR where he was shot in the ear and received a Purple Heart. I FUCKING DARE YOU to tell me to go back to my country. MY FAMILY HAS DONE MORE FOR THIS COUNTRY THAN HALF OF THESE RACIST MOTHER FUCKERS. 

Hate crimes in America have been happening since the 1880s. Yellow Peril goes back to the 1880s when Asian were literally depicted as these murderous group invading from Asia. And of course, they depict us with slanted eyes and with long braided pony tails. THIS SHIT AIN’T NEW. There has also literally been LAWS banning Chinese from coming to America. i.e THE CHINESE EXCLUSION ACT oh and lets not forget Japanese Interment during the 1930s. THIS SHIT AIN’T NEW. ALSO let’s not forget the Vincent Chin Murder in the 1980s when a Chinese American was BEAT TO DEATH because his attackers thought he was Japanese and they were blaming the Japanese for taking their jobs. 

As I sit here, feeling not as angry as at the beginning, if history has taught me anything, fear and anger has been the drive for these crimes. In the 1880s we were thought to be evil and that we were going to take away all of the jobs (but low and behold, some of us were KIDNAPPED here). During WWII it was right after Pearl Harbor after Japan bombed it. Vincent Chin, his attackers were angry at the Japanese. Current day, Donald Fucking Trump decided to put the target on our communities back with both jobs being sent to China and with the Coronavirus being our fault. 

What happened on Tuesday with the Atlanta police officer saying that the 21 year old was “having a bad day” WAS BULL SHIT. I didn’t know killing 8 people was a RATIONALE  RESPONSE. Okay then. Call it what it is, A HATE CRIME. This man was saying he had a “sex addiction” and that he wanted to get rid of the temptation and he associated ASIAN WOMEN and the ASIAN SPA to be that temptation. AND WHY IS THAT?!?!?!? THE FETISHIZATION OF ASIAN WOMEN. 

And before I get off of my soap box, THE MEDIA WAS PRETTY FUCKING LATE TO JOINING THIS, AND CALL IT WHAT IT IS, A HATE CRIME. SO MANY of the crimes against the Asian elderly go unreported or are not deemed hate crimes WHEN THEY ARE. SO MANY of them do not know English or enough English and can not report what was said to them. And what sucks too, my dad even said it, I think your grandparents would just take it because they would see this as “I immigrated here, I have to take this shit”. WELL THAT TRAIN STOPS HERE. WE WILL NOT BE SILENCED. WE WILL NOT SHY AWAY. WE ARE TAKING OUR SPACE THAT IS RIGHTFULLY OURS. I fucking PROMISE you that if you try to do so, you will have hell to deal with. 

I’m not going to get into the subject of the people who are SILENT during this but were ALL OVER social media for their BLM support. I’m just going to leave it at we are asking for your help and to amplify this. Please. 

To my non Asian friends who have reached out to me, I do appreciate it. I really do. But please rather than telling me you are here for me if I want to talk, I BEG of you, please read and learn about the history as well as the Asian/Asian American experience in America. It’s really not as rainbows and butterflies people have been thinking. Hate against Asian and Asian Americans started before 2020. 

To my Asian brothers, sisters, aunties and uncles PLEASE stay safe.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Vince and the Phone

A phone call between Vincent Shield and his girlfriend, Tara. Tara belongs to @fairybean101 and is used with permission! Thanks for letting me use your girl to talk some sense into my poor movie star.

This post references Who’s the Better Box Boy by @shameless-whumper heavily, so please read that if you haven’t yet to understand Vince’s reactions

CW: Referenced past violent assault, and referenced psat and current noncon

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @lump-of-whump, @whimpers-and-whumpers​

He can’t stop fucking watching it.

Vince finally gives up and calls her - one benefit of their relationship for him has been Tara’s simple willingness to pick up the phone so he can ask her to yell at him any time, day or night. Tara never seems to sleep, she’s burning herself out rescuing all those poor Box Boys and Babes, and so she’s never more than a few moments of ringing away.

And she always picks up when Vince calls.

When Eli had initially asked him to consider acting as some kind of go-between for the pet lib people - he’d known Eli for a while, they ran in some of the same circles sometimes - he’d nearly said no.

But he wanted to help; even then, he’d understood something was really, really wrong with the whole human pet system. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, then, because why not let people sign their lives away? Vince did that every time he signed a contract for a new film and had to stop doing anything but working out and eating stupid plain chicken for months.

But Eli had known more than he let on, at first, and a couple of years later Vince was sitting up in the middle of the night, half-plastered, replaying a video of some poor son of a bitch with Vince’s face laying on his back, ankles flush to thighs, legs spread. 

The red in the poor thing’s face, embarrassed and ashamed of something that, according to Tara, he couldn’t have refused to do even if he’d wanted to. 

And to Vince, it looked like he wanted to refuse.

He caught the look the other one - the one that the Host kept - gave, presumably, Owen behind the camera. Flat and controlled, an attempt to stay expressionless, but Vince could read the helpless fury there.

“Yeah, you and me both, buddy,” Vince muttered, raking a hand back through his hair as he pulled up Tara’s number. “Both of us get pissed as hell and both of us do fucking nothing about it. At least you have an excuse, I guess. I’m just a goddamn coward.”

Tara’s number was next to an icon of her face, a serious scowl with her red hair a halo around her head. She hadn’t wanted Vince to take the photo, but she’d been the one to choose which of the seven he took got set as her icon on his phone.

It took four rings for Tara to pick up.

“What dumbass thing are you doing now?” Her voice is sharp as ever, but laced, he likes to think, with friendly affection. “It’s two in the morning, Vince.”

“Don’t yell at me for being up, I’m between projects and I always get all weird with my sleep schedule when I’m not working. What are you doing up?”

“Handling some new reports from another group,” Tara replies, and Vince can hear her shuffling papers in the background. “They got word on an upcoming raid, managed to split up their documents and records before the cops found them. We took in a few of their rescues, a couple of other groups took some. All the rescues are taken care of, which is what matters, but shit.”

“Shit…?”

“They’re hitting too many groups. I think someone is talking. But you don’t want to hear about my shit tonight… what’s up, Vince?” There’s a pause and before he can answer, Tara asks softly, “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Vince glances down at his laptop, where the video is currently paused, right on the shot of the look of pure unadulterated trying-to-hide-it murder Colton - who is apparently Dustin Anderson, pet liberation activist, and oh shit what a fucking ominous soundtrack that knowledge starts up inside his head - is giving Owen Grant. He moves the timer back and sets it up to replay the look on the Kauri kid’s face the second he heard the Host say Position 34.

The red flush, humiliated and nervous, the subtle sidelong glance to the other pet only to see the confusion on his face and realize oh shit, I’m the only one of us who knows this.

Did pets judge each other? Did Kauri leave and the other one, the Dustin one, think oh, that one’s a whore when they left?

Probably not. 

No, the reaction shots gave too much away for Vince to even think unkind bullshit like that. No, the pets clearly cared, at least a little. The rescues they brought in mostly avoided each other at first, while all the conditioning was in place, but these two look like maybe they wouldn’t. Or at least not as much. 

He rewinds again right to the start, watching for the moment Owen Grant looks up, surprised, those green eyes on the camera so soft and friendly.

“He’s such a fucking liar, Tara,” Vince says, and his voice shakes.

“Yeah, okay, so you’re watching it.” Tara sighs, and he can picture it - rubbing the spot between her eyebrows with her index finger and thumb, taking a deep breath. “Vince, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t punish yourself this way.”

“He’s a liar. He goes on camera - what fucking right does he have to do that, by the way - and he stands right fucking there and lies about what happened between us, lies about what I, what I did with him-”

“No.” Tara’s voice is sharp, and it cuts through Vince immediately. His mouth snaps shut. “What he did to you, Vince. We’ve talked about this. You didn’t do anything but go to see your friend one night when he seemed down. Everything after he put the drink in your hand is what he did to you.”

There’s a silence and Vince tries to tell himself she’s right. She’s always right.

Eventually, he gives up to the pull of just letting Tara run the show and smiles, wondering if she’ll hear the expression in his voice. “Yeah, okay. But still… you know he didn’t get someone like that Box Boy by accident. You know he lied about that, too.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tara’s voice is clipped, and goes slightly quieter. “We got a potential informant in the company, and I’ve just seen Grant’s custom order form.”

“What?” Vince’s feet thump to the ground and he sits up. Around him his home is perfectly silent, pure white, and kind of cold. He likes it better when Tara has to stay over, pretend she’s sleeping with him that night. Then this place feels like it has life in it. 

Mostly, even when he’s home, it just feels... empty.

“Yeah. We had someone come through and offer to get us some info, and Owen Grant’s order form was in the documents he gave us to show he was good for it. This is… this is the most detailed custom order form I’ve ever seen, Vince.”

“Did he-...” Vince tries to swallow back the question, but it tumbles out anyway. “Did he really just want him for-”

“No, it’s more fucked than that.” Tara’s quiet - Vince can hear his own blood, his heartbeat, his breathing. “Are you sure you want me to tell you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t, I don’t know… will it make me feel better or worse to hear it?”

On screen, Kauri is shocked and Vince watches his flinch, the tears standing in his eyes, still pleading and wide in some hope that Owen will rescue him. Vince grinds his teeth in anger at the way it looks to see his own face, so perfectly broken and needy, looking always to Owen to be saved.

Exactly how Owen had always wanted to see him.

“Probably worse,” Tara answers, and there’s a hint of gentleness there. Tara isn’t gentle with very many people - with him, with Eli, maybe a few others. Always with the rescues, the broken men and women hiding from the system under fake names and with forged documentation, pulled from homes and those two-bit emporiums selling bullshit knock-off Box Boys and Babes. She doesn’t have a lot of gentle left in her, after her own ordeal - but she always finds a little for Vince.

And he doesn’t even try to be ashamed of himself for needing it.

“Tell me anyway. That poor kid probably feels enough like shit, I might as well join him. I’m the only reason he’s even in this mess.”

“Well, okay, it might make you feel better to know he was already in the system. They called him 645898,” Tara reads the number out loud with real hatred edging her voice. “He was already in training before Grant put in his order, but I have a hunch they new Grant had been sniffing around the site and picked him up to have him ready for the order. And fuck, what an order. I don’t know what we’d even do with a rescue like this one, Vince.”

“What? Why? We’ve rescued others that are, that were, that… um…”

“Got their brains fucked out of them?” Tara asks with bitter near-humor.

“Yeah. That.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely seeing his share of that-” Vince winces, closing his eyes, trying not to remember Own’s hand pressed over his mouth, the look in his eyes as he’d whispered I’m so fucking tired of hearing you say no all the time, Vince, the way the ropes had dug into his wrists until they were rubbed raw and bloody. “-but it’s worse than that. He wouldn’t even go with us if we showed up at Grant’s front door.”

“Let me guess,” Vince says heavily. “He wanted the pet to love him.”

I just want you to fucking love me, you piece of shit! Is that so much to ask, Vince? Huh?! Is that so much to fucking ask?!

“Yep.” Tara doesn’t try to soothe him, to paper over old wounds with pretty words. That’s what he loves about her - Vince’s world is one of fake comfort and false friends, and Tara never gives comfort she doesn’t drag out of herself with real sincerity and she’s the truest friend he’s ever had. “If we tried to take him, he... he wouldn’t go. And that’s just the fucking tip of the fucking iceberg, too.”

“Perfect.” Vince sighs. “This kid had no idea what he was signing up for, huh?”

“Vince. You and I both know hardly any of them actually sign up for anything. You and I both know how they get the pets to sign our contracts.”

Vince licks his lips, hesitating, his blood running a little cold at the thought. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know how they do it. I know it.”

“Close your laptop, Vince. Go to sleep. This kid won’t be any less or more fucked over if you do. We’ll work on his case, I promise, he’s just… he’s going to be tough. He’s not in a house where we can walk up, he never leaves so we can’t catch him in a vulnerable, open place. And if we did… he wouldn’t go. The conditioning is thorough, Vince, and I’ve no doubt he loves Grant and is terrified of the idea of being taken away from him.” Tara sighs, again. She has a whole library of sighs, and Vince loves her for each and every one of them. “I have to talk to Eli about it, we need a better plan for dealing with this one, but trust me - I’m going to figure this shit out. Your clone and Dustin, we’re going to figure it out.”

“If you don’t, Tara? What if you can’t figure it out, for either of them?”

“Then…” Tara trails off. “Then it’s like I said. They’re no more or less fucked over than they were before I knew about them.”

It’s Vince’s turn to snort. “Tara. We both know that’s not how you operate. You never stop thinking about any of the ones you couldn’t rescue.”

“Hm. Maybe I’ll make it work this time if I try hard enough. Go to sleep, Vince. Eli’s on my other line. He took in a rescue and he’s been calling me for advice about her.”

“That’s funny. Me calling to ask you about this Kauri kid, and Eli’s right in his house, at the exact same moment, calling you for advice about, uh, whatever her name is.”

“Keira. She asked him to call her Keira.” Tara is quiet. “Kauri and Keira. Funny, the two names together like that. Eli even says her hair is dark and curly... Anyway, you need sleep and I need to keep moving.”

“Right, because you’re a sleep shark, if you sleep you’ll die,” Vince teases her. She laughs on the other line, and he relaxes all at once. 

Did the people who kept Tara, in the shadowy past she only rarely opened up about, ever make her laugh? Did they have any idea how wonderful it was to hear the sound? Did they know her laugh was nearly as gorgeous as the red of her hair? If Vince had ever been remotely into women, someone like Tara might have been just his type.

As it was, his fake girlfriend was probably his best friend. And the only person on Earth who knew what Owen Grant had done to him, when he was 20 years old and looked exactly like the Kauri kid that Vince was watching, once again, lay on his back on the screen.

Ankles against his thighs, legs spread apart, the flush of shame in his eyes and his skin and in the way he moved when Owen yanked him back to his feet moments later. 

“You have meetings tomorrow,” Tara says, softly. 

“So do you,” He counters. He scrolls down to look over the comments, staring at the array of usernames and inane babble. Mostly just people praising the Host’s cleverness, how funny they are, what a great idea to have two Box Boys face off like that.

Then one catches his eye.

@finder-of-rings: Kauri seems really sweet. God I hope owen isn’t hurting him. It’d be so, so easy to do just anything he wanted to him! They’re all alone and he can’t say no to anything, right??? God, that’s so scary… imagine being all alone with someone like Owen Grant and he can do literally anything to you and no one will stop him and no one will help you! Someone should do something!

There’s a slew of replies telling the commenter they’re making a mountain out of a molehill, that the Box Boys signed up for this, it’s all part of the system, whatever. 

Vincent just stares at the words as they go in and out of focus.

“Vince?” Tara’s voice seems a little fainter. “You listening?”

Imagine being all alone with someone like Owen Grant and he can do anything to you - and no one will stop him - and no one will help you.

“I don’t have to imagine it,” Vince whispers. “I’ve been there, Finder of Rings. I’ve fucking been there.”

“Hey, no, are you reading the comments, Vince?” Tara’s voice is sharp again, cuts through the fog and the way his throat has gone tight, his heart beating fast, a dizzy fear pounding in his mind all the way down to wrists that still remember how it felt to be tied down. 

A throbbing pulse of phantom pain in the rib Owen had broken, in the eye he’d punched. Some of Vince’s teeth are fake because of Owen Grant.

“Never, ever read the comments, Vince. Never. That’s… we have people who read the comments just to troll for info and even some of them get freaked out. Don’t do it. Or…” The softness is back in her voice, again. “At least let me be there with you when you do.”

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right.” Vince’s voice is shaking as he closes his laptop screen, shutting away the vision of Kauri and the Host’s boy carefully not looking at each other as the episode ended. I hope the other pets don’t judge the ones like you, little clone, he thinks. I hope, I hope, I hope.

“I’m going to bed, Tara. You’re right and I should take your advice and just… just fucking shut off for a while. Are you going to take my advice and do the same?”

“Fuck no. I’m calling Eli to see what help he needs with his rescue. She’s a sweetheart, she’s been really put through the worst the system does to people. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Vince.”

“And you’ll die if you sleep,” Vince says, and both of them laugh this time. 

She hangs up and Vince sits in his quiet, empty house, thinking of the comment he’d read.

Someone should do something.

He thinks of Owen screaming in his face, holding him by the chin, the way he’d choked on his own blood and the tooth down his throat as he cried and begged Owen not to kill him. Thought of what it had been like when Owen’s mom had found out and Vincent had stumbled out of the old apartment where Owen used to live, beaten half to death and unable to tell a single living soul what really happened.

It’d hurt his career, if he did. He was just getting real acting jobs meant for adults, then - he’d signed Carlotta Grant’s legal shit and taken a year to recover and then come back and become a fucking superstar. It had felt like enough for a while.

He couldn’t have risked his career, then, when it was only getting started. And now...

It’d murder his career to step one foot out of line, now - and put the pet lib people he worked with at risk, if he publicly said a fucking thing about Owen Grant keeping what amounted to a blow up doll with a pulse that looked just like him.

He had to trust Tara, and the people like Tara - the people braver than him.

“Someone should save that poor kid,” Vince mutters, alone in the dark. “Someone should do something. But it’s not going to be me.”

[crapyouknowme]

Noir

Drabble: srodulv is now following you. Or the story where Lucas realizes whose IG page he had just come across.

Notes: I mean, come on! Lucas posts on IG stories like he doesn’t know what it means to be away from neither his phone nor the app, so of course we needed this scene. 

Lucas stares at the screen, eyes dully focused on nothing in particular. In one scene, a thin paper is strung on the wall, his curiosity piquing as he notices the casting of an easel, far-off in the distance, not whatsoever relevant to what was being shown.

It’s a re-run episode of the Bureau and from what he remembers, this was the scene where Malotru, the dude with the penchant for watching paint dry, somewhat trying, failing miserably, to convince his lieutenant on a co-op he wants to join in on.

It’s just a set-piece yet it does nothing but unnerve him. Because somehow, despite the canvas being shoved behind a dresser, he’s able to take notice of it, as if the white was not a splotch but consumed the entirety of the screen.

He doesn’t dwell on it for long because his phone buzzes, which happens to be plugged into the charger that is plugged into an outlet, which is on the opposite side of where he has found himself tucked under. Lucas kicks his feet in an attempt to extend one of his leg to thumb the corner of his cell.

He knows it’s counterproductive because there was no way in hell he could even get the sole of his foot to kick it towards him, rather far, way farther away.

When it ends up dropping onto the floor, a resounding thump drowning the not-so-silent room, he pushes off of the sofa and goes to retrieve it.

Lucas’ bends stealthily, only to tilt his head. Mika grits bitterly under his breath as he appears from the bathroom, makes his way past Lucas before halting.

“Lucas, tell me. Do I look like what Vincent Cassel would if he was thirty-two years younger and drank less?”

He fists his phone into his palm, blinks as he processes what exactly he was being asked and more particularly on what to expect from how he answered.

“Not in this lifetime.” He settles for, as he pulls the blanket over his head in an attempt to avoid whatever point Mika thinks he was going to make.

It’s a little after ten. The couch has become a tenth less uncomfortable since the last time he had inhabited it. He’s had a sandwich, wheat bread, ham and butter-the only three things needed to make anything delicious, really.

He’s pried the window open, let’s the cool, heavy air settle, the kind that holds the promise of a rainstorm.

Lucas manages to avoid Mika’s thigh shoving unwittingly into his hip, scooches back hastily as Mika presses, instead, up against his shoulder, tugging his cover down. “Lucas, this is a case of mistaken identity.”

“M-what?” He flips through the channels, pressing on the button until there’s not an inkling of white to be seen. He’s gone through at least twenty before he switches the T.V off, in vain.

Lucas has a feeling, though, that white would be a color he’d grow to dislike.

Just because.

“Maybe he just has the dexterity of a toad.”

From what he’s gathered, there’s a guy. A guy who DMs Mika after following him on snapchat, asks him whether he looks like someone, behaves surprised when told no and does just enough to have Mika going on a spirited tirade on the merits of making social media accounts private.

Mika gets to his feet, a wayward look appearing on his face. He jabs a pointed finger at Lucas, mutters with indignation: “Do you plan on having the borough to the hamlet following you on Instagram?”

Lucas chortles at what’s being insinuated.

“What’s wrong with that?” He’s aware of the fact that some-how he’s accumulated a significant audience in the past couple of months, but what can he say. It’s endearing. They’re following him for a reason, a reason unbeknownst to him, but present nevertheless. “It’s the eyes.” He jokes, because Mika’s irked and pupils are supposedly Mika’s characteristic trait. He knows he’s pressing a nerve when he’s met with a glare.

Lucas raises his hands over his chest, apologetic. “I’m kidding.” He grins, kicking his feet on top of the table.

Mika resumes to snapping bitterly under his breath, brisk as he makes his way back to his room. A room, with four walls, and a door. A door that could be closed and opened whenever he wants it to be.

He misses having a room. He misses having the choice to sprawl his clothes on the floor, kicking his shoes into a corner and fixating on books that seem haphazard but, in his mind, they were placed in schematic.

Lucas rubs at his temple as he slips his hand back under the duvet. He curls inward. There’s warmth that emanates from his fetal position. It’s comforting and reminiscent of a bed he’s no longer sleeping on.

He lowers his gaze when a green bar appears on his screen.

Arthur: I think if we’re getting free food, I’m in.

Lucas swipes his thumb. He opens their group chat, reads with promptness, to get a gist of the messages he’s somehow missed and have accumulated to the point that there’s a plan in unison for them all to meet at the foyer, tomorrow, and work on that fucking mural.

Lucas: Yeah, no.

Basille: Daphne’s going to really have a good impression of me. Okay, fresco, 8 hands, an hour, free lunch.

Yann: What part of I’m paying for my own meal did you interpret as free-of-charge?

Basille: Yeah, complimentary food. Can’t get any better.

Arthur: I have no ideas. So, I wanted to make that clear. None, whatsoever.

Basille: I’ll be on her good side, right? Every time she looks at that wall, she’ll know that I had a part in it.

Basille: Luc, we’ll be walking together from 4th anyway so it’s okay. I’ll carry you there. You won’t have to use much of your stamina.

Lucas is aware of what they are doing. He’s thankful that there were them, who are trying to soften the blow of a moment that has him feeling wretched, shameful, angry—all at once. He appreciates their endeavors, albeit ridiculous, more than anyone.

A bar appears from the top of the screen, interrupting his thoughts.

srodulv is now following you.

It’s instinct, or an inherent roundabout way of Lucas, having been somewhat preoccupied, in extant, by the conversation he just had with Mika, to click on the notification. He’s re-routed to the app, an unfamiliar profile pops up.

He doesn’t scroll much, doesn’t have to, because he finds himself, breath abated, fingers halting, frozen in their spot, vision bleary—staring at a familiar sketchpad, at the caricature he’s seen a countless number of times, notices the date—it’s stamped 26.02.19.

Shit.

Lucas takes a deep, shaky breath. He lowers his gaze, curls his toes into the carpet, wants—no, needs to feel the ground because it ceases to exist as his head starts to spin. Lucas grits down on his jaw as he forces himself to be levelheaded.

He’s deliberate, conscious, alert and painstakingly awake, as he goes from one picture, to the next, to the next. There’s a glimpse of the racoon’s ears behind a brick wall. There’s Mike Walters and a scene from My Own Private Idaho. There are pelts of fucking raindrops, right after. There’s an idyllic excerpt from a book.

All of it seems too intentional, distinct, clear-cut.

Lucas stomachs his way through an obfuscated racoon, a video of that face of his, a clandestine painting (mostly rattled by how permeated the canvas was by something so noir), a wonky sketch of a keyboard—he doesn’t have to look at the date to know when it’s posted. It sears into his mind, that all of this, every. Single. Fucking. Post. Is. too. Deliberate. To. Be. a Goddamn. Coincidence.

It’s when he notices the cat. The cat and the racoon, affectionate, huddled, together—does he glance at the time-stamp: 03.01.19.

Weeks, it’s weeks before they’ve met.

He knows what he’s insinuating, what he’s convincing himself of.

Blithely, Lucas exits out. He grips at his phone, a little too tightly, the flesh of his palm becoming a ghostly white. He lets out a harsh, rugged, rough exhale, blinking in despondence to clear his mind of that fuckingcat.

He knows who that cat is. He also knows that it’s way before—

Lucas clamps down on his jaw, biting his tongue until a cascade of blood pools out from his gum.

What the actual fuck is this.

Lucas can’t help the way he goes tense. It’s not that he’s envious or angry or anything like that. He doesn’t, precisely, feel shitty. He just...

Okay, no, he feels kind of shitty. And weird. The whole situation is both shitty and weird, and Lucas doesn’t know how to make himself feel better about any of it. He hasn’t seen Eliott since that morning, although he’s mostly grateful for that, because it’s a glimpse. It’s all he needs, even though it’s all he’s getting.

But this-

This is all too telling without disclosing jack shit.

Lucas huffs, fingers arranged in a cursory manner over his screen as he types out: Drag me out of class. I’ll be a willing participant. He shoves the phone under the sofa, slams his face into the pillow as he nestles his neck in a position that isn’t too awkward.

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he decides on taking a nap. Sleep, he had foregone. But a nap, yeah that would help him become somewhat sane. Maybe even eliminate the moping, the fairly unreasonable amount of moping, he’s been displaying.

He jabs his forehead into the padding of the cushion, whispering to himself the lyrics to smells like teen spirit—over and over again—With the lights out, it’s less dangerous. Here we are now, entertain us—just to erase the clout of susceptibility, the wistful hope rising from the solitude corners of his psyche—I feel stupid and contagious.Because there was no way in hell he was going to be stirred by this. Here we are now, entertain us. Screw, cats. Screw, Racoons. I’m worse at what I do best, and for this gift I feel blessed. Fuck that fresco. Fuck that white easel. Go to hell, Vincent Cassel.

[head-and-heart]

The 100 Highlights - “How We Get To Peace” (5x08)

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait for this highlight post. I was out of town visiting family for a week and didn’t get a chance to rewatch the episode until today. And, unfortunately, I am about to be swapped for the next ten days (at least) so you can probably expect the 5x09 highlight post to be pretty late, too.

... And the 5x10 recap.

But anyway - super excited to get into this episode! Hope you enjoy my thoughts. :)

Feel free to read up on the previous posts in this series here. 

“I’ve seen the horrors we inflict on each other in the name of survival, colonel. God knows I’m as guilty as anyone, but we’re on the brink here - on the edge of an abyss I’ve stared into before - and I can tell you, having sacrificed the few to save the many more times than I care to admit, eventually, the few becomes the many. The ends don’t always justify the means and if you don’t know that by now, after everything you’ve been through, then you’re just as bad as Octavia, and we’re already lost.” 

At first I was a bit thrown by Kane’s speech here because Charmaine’s move was, objectively, very politically savvy (and it seemed a little out of place, considering Kane was the one who implied that if Charmaine got rid of McCreary she wouldn’t have to be concerned about resistance anymore but whatever) but - in retrospect - I do see the value in it. It seems to reflect what Bellamy and Clarke do later in the episode to Kara Cooper (which was honestly SO fucked up guys, like, holy shit). And the line was well delivered too. Very dramatic.

I kind of like this Vincent guy. Hm. Seems too nice to be a cannibal/serial killer. Speaking of which, are we ever going to see him snap? Maybe in 5x11 ... and that’s when we’ll get Abby telling the story of what happened in The Dark Year. :o I’ve cracked the code fam

Echo suggesting that they kill Zeke made her more familiar to me. Her character arc seems pretty on track (based on this episode) with what I have already speculated and I expect that we’re going to see her facing some issues with her old methods soon (maybe next episode?). I did like how they have set up her character arc in this episode.

I’m really enjoying that they have Indra teaming up with our mains this season. It’s an interesting dynamic, to see her interacting with characters besides Octavia and Kane this season and I am really enjoying it.

LEMME TAKE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT ZEKE PUTTING HIS HAND IN FRONT OF RAVEN PROTECTIVELY K

Listen, I know that their relationship has no base to it and they barely know each other and their connection doesn’t even really make sense *realistically* but I really, really LOVE Raven and Zeke’s dynamic. Lindsey and Jordan have fantastic chemistry and they look so good together and Zeke and Raven’s personalities/intellect complement each other so well. Also, this is a television show so lack of development DOESN’T MATTER, especially considering Zeke hasn’t killed Raven’s family or ex boyfriend or anything which - if you ask me - is a definite bonus! I just loved that little detail of him looking out for her, despite being angry (and having every right to be) because he feels protective of her and can’t really explain why just yet.

Also, I am in no way delusional enough to believe that the writers intentionally paralleled Bellarke and Zaven in this episode but this moment was visually extremely reminiscent of Bellamy jumping in front of Clarke in 2x09 ... so that’s a plus.

Everything involving Raven and Abby in this episode was just the most gut-wrenching, fam. Raven’s concern over Abby being threatened by Diyoza and her determination to protect her and Abby lying was just ... a Lot. It shows how far gone Abby is and added some new stakes to her addiction. I think it was important to show how Abby and Raven’s relationship will be affected by this.

“Your mother would be proud, Monty.” I wonder if anyone has told Monty this before, and how much he probably needed to hear it. In all that had happened, I forgot that Kara Cooper and Monty come from the same station on the Ark, and that they have probably even known each other for a long time. I never would have guessed that I would love seeing them interact so much but their scenes in this episode were so cute? Cooper laughing at Monty’s jokes about getting lit was the scene I didn’t know I needed. Leave it to The 100 to humanize the Worst character in the episode they get killed

THE ORIGINAL MURDER TRIO IS BACK AND AT IT AGAIN

I have to admit, in a kind of sick way I liked that we had Monty, Clarke, and Bellamy back at their old shenanigans again? Like, this felt like an indirect callback to Mount Weather, where they all committed mass murder together. This time, they’re trying to prevent that from happening again. It’s weird to see how their old allegiances and perspectives have shifted from that moment - and yet, they all continue to cooperate with each other.

“What’s one more, right? We’re all murderers.” OOF MONTY I FELT THAT

“We’re talking about taking one life to save hundreds.” “Really? Then let’s kill Octavia.” I literally yelled DRAG HIM at my screen when he said this lmao. Monty had ALL the lines in this episode. Like, damn, I love that he is questioning Bellamy and Clarke’s decisions in this, how they just revert so easily back to their same old methods. It’s refreshing to see.

 And also, he’s RIGHT. What Bellamy and Clarke are doing is so fucking twisted. They are literally killing someone in the most grotesque manner and framing them for something they didn’t even do all in order to avoid killing someone else - the person who forced her to commit the atrocities she has in the first place. Let’s face it: Cooper is easy to hate but the only reason she is the way she is is because of the system that Octavia created, the game Octavia forced her to play. And yet, they won’t kill Octavia, because of their own selfish wishes. It is absolutely fucked up and I am so glad that Monty called them out on their bullshit.

I really loved Murphy looking at Clarke’s drawing of him and Emori chained to the rocket from 4x08. It was a nice detail (and parallel to Season 4′s corresponding episode) and callback to include. Here’s hoping that we get to see *cough* other characters looking at pictures of themselves that Clarke has drawn. You know ... no one in particular.

“Tell me what we’re looking at.” 

“I don’t think we’d see it the same way, but all right. That’s where the trading post will be. And next to it will be a farm, and a workshop, and a mill ... And a real medical center, for Abby. To the south, there’ll be homes dug out of the ground to preserve the trees, and at the center, there’ll be a well, a place for people to gather, talk, debate ideas.”

“And a school with a playground where kids can blow off steam and bitch about their teachers and kiss under the bleachers. My kid.”

LET ME TALK ABOUT THIS SCENE !!! I LOVED THIS SCENE. 

I think this is the very first time (with the exception of Briller and the chickens) where any character has explicitly voiced their greatest wishes for the future, how it looks in their mind. And it’s so fucking tragic because you can just visualize it so clearly, but it feels so far away. That future doesn’t seem possible. It’s so melancholy and I love how Ian and Ivana delivered their lines in this scene.

Also, soft!Charmaine is EVERYTHING. Her line about the school and the teenagers “bitching” and making out and doing regular teenage thing was just so ... normal, it was honestly startling to think about. That’s the life that the hundred should have had - that they’ll never get now. I love the baby storyline so much (and I never thought I would like a pregnancy storyline but I do) because it humanizes Diyoza in so many ways. 

The music in this scene was gorgeous and matched the tone so well, I honestly started tearing up a little bit don’t @ me. I have a really big feeling that this discussion will come up again - either because we’re going to see this vision completely destroyed, or because we’re going to see it come to fruition. With the space travel theory, I do kind of wonder if we might get an “epilogue” of sorts for the people who stay behind on Eden, where we see Kane and Diyoza’s vision has come true (and maybe they’ll both even be there). It would be like a farewell to the characters who remain on Earth. I think it would be beautiful. (But that’s all assuming that the space travel theory is correct.)

As mildly annoying as it was that Kane literally named Diyoza’s baby for her (wtf Kane???) I did appreciate the symbolic purpose of naming her child “Hope”, especially considering the episode title “Pandora’s Box”, in which hope (aka. Kane/Baby) was the last out of the bunker and then flew away with Eligius. It’s a nice follow up to that little piece of mythology.

In a way, Kane, Abby, and Charmaine are delivering Hope (literally and figuratively) to the people. Which is also why I believe that they may all remain behind in Eden at the end of this season as we see our mains (ie. Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, etc) take off into cryo sleep, officially saying goodbye to all of them forever. (Goddamn I’m already crying and the season finale hasn’t even aired yet? THe fuck)

Also side note to talk about how vindicating it was when Kane was judging Charmaine the entire episode about her damn notebook (”names of the people you killed?” stfu) and it turned out to just be a goddamn list of baby names and defense strategies. Sit the fuck down, Mark.

I present to you: the creepiest fucking shot this show has done. And yet, I really liked it? Showing Cooper’s reactions by shooting through her helmet was a really well done creative choice. It was so trippy and it made her death feel so visceral and real. It honestly kind of sickens me to watch this scene, tbh.

On another note, I cannot BELIEVE how many stomachs Jason has forced me to watch explode this season .. the audacity ...

Emori establishing healthy boundaries is ... EVERYTHING. It’s so important for the writers to have addressed the toxicity in their relationship in this way. 

“Trouble in paradise?” I kind of love that McCreary says this to Memori because it is exactly what Murphy said to Clarke and Finn in 5x06 after the massacre. That’s some sweet kind of karma right there

Everything about Raven and Abby in this episode was absolutely devastating. Lindsey and Paige both killed this scene - the emotions were so real. Lindsey did such an amazing job portraying Raven’s hurt and rage - I could feel her emotions so viscerally. 

“Don’t you talk to me about pain.” If anyone deserves that line, it is Raven. She has been through hell and back and has had to be so strong for so long. I really liked that line.

CLARKE SITTING ON BELLAMY’S BED IN HIS TENT. Man, I would LOVE to see how that scene went askskqisks

Also, Clarke comforting my poor baby just like old times ... *sigh*

Although I have some reservations with the dialogue in this scene, I do appreciate the sentiment. Despite everything that has happened, Bellamy and Clarke still have such an understanding of each other. They forgive so easily - it’s practically second nature at this point. While I hated how Jason Rothenberg-y Bellamy sounded when he called Clarke a “mama bear” it IS nice that he is acknowledging the role that Madi plays in Clarke’s life. I feel like he finally is starting to understand just how crucial she is to Clarke, and recognizing that he felt the same way about Octavia. It gives them something new to connect over. Also, I’ll never turn down Bellarke being soft with each other.

Plus, have you ever seen a softer smile than Clarke Griffin’s? Cause oh boy am I not over that. She looks so fucking bashful when she looks up at Bellamy I can’t deal gotDAMN

“The worms were already loaded in the rover, so. What was Cooper doing there?” Marie’s delivery in this episode was SO good. God, she’s so creepy and she’s Killing It.

“Careful, big brother, or I’ll think you helped her and we’d have enough prisoners to settle this in the ring.” LISTEN. I WANTED THE EVERLARK AU SO FREAKING BAD CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT NEW MEANING THE WORD “TOGETHER” WOULD HAVE HOLY SHIT

But also, Bellamy’s desperate looks/protests were A Lot in this scene. He really can’t fathom losing Clarke again. His and Clarke’s tragic looks towards each other just really fucking hurt - they’ve been here before. And last time, they didn’t see each other for six years. 

“Keep Madi safe. Promise me.” “I promise.”

GOD. CLARKE LITERALLY JUST GAVE HIM FUCKING CUSTODY OF HER CHILD UMMMMM HOW ONE DOES FUNCTION??? She trusts him so much i’mma cry. Also, his called out promise. He sounds so wrecked, but he needs her to know that he will keep Madi safe, needs her to have that comfort, just in case he never sees her again. Don’t Touch Me.

“Did he hurt you?” Protective!Zeke is always a plus but I’d be lying if I said that this scene didn’t immediately remind me of Bellamy asking Clarke the same damn question in 1x10. God, these unintentional Blarke parallels are really coming for my life huh

“Have you ever loved someone so much that no matter what they do to you, or themselves, you take it?” “Mom or dad?” “Mom. Drank herself to death.” I loved that Raven has finally found someone she can open up to. Feels Good, feels Organic. But also this scene came for my LIFE it was so angsty and so good. Raven breaking down absolutely ENDED me (and Zeke comforting her ... someone call 911). I really loved how they made the parallel between Raven’s mom and Abby - it just made the previous scene all the more devastating. So often it feels like the writers on this show forget about these characters backstory and I’m so happy to get these little callbacks every once in awhile.

“The answer is yes.” The fact that Raven and Zeke have this new unexpected thing to relate about is A Lot. I felt this scene deep in my bones. 

Plot twist: Abby dies because she is eaten by Vincent, and her withdrawal symptoms are just a red herring to keep us on our feet. ;)

“So much for The 100.” Hello, favourite line of this episode. Y’all have no idea (NO IDEA) how much it means to me to hear a reference to the heart of this show again, especially from Bellamy. He hasn’t forgotten, but it appears that Miller has. Wow. I felt that one.

“I can’t let you kill Clarke, O.” NO YOU CANNOT

“Here we go again. Pleading for the life of a traitor ... who you love.” DO I NEED TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS LINE HONESTLY Y’ALL ALREADY KNOW WHY IT ENDED ME

BELLAMY’S FUCKING FACE JOURNEY HOLY SHIT. THEY FOCUS ON HIS FACE FOR SO LONG AND YOU CAN JUST SEE - YOU CAN SEE - HIS INTERNAL STRUGGLE. GOD.

I totally overlooked this the first time I watched it but I love how Bellamy tells Octavia that HE made a deal with Diyoza. Clarke has already been sentenced to death and still, he’s protecting her. He won’t let Clarke get hurt for the deal she made - instead, he takes the blame. I just love him a lot fam.

Bob and Marie’s acting in that final scene was SO FREAKING GOOD. Both of them killed it. It was so devastating. 

“My sister, my responsibility.” While I was predicting before that this line would happen if Bellamy had to kill Octavia, the fact that it came back in the same context (with Bellamy having to protect others from Octavia, rather than the other way around) was so perfect. I love when writers take old lines and give them new meanings and that’s exactly what they did with Bellamy’s old mantra. It was so powerful.

AND HE DID IT ALL FOR CLARKE. HE CHOSE FUCKING CLARKE. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY???

So. 

That was a wild ride.

Hope you enjoyed reading my take on 5x08 and my favourite parts! Looking forward to the next episode in a few days. See ya then! 

[stillsolo]

Vincent, you are such in incredible writer. You pour so much love and detail and care into absolutely everything you write, you're a writer that I aspire to be more like. I'm constantly impressed by your beautiful writing, and your wonderful portrayal of Han.

so, i just sat down and read this and i fucking burst into tears.  i am legitimately crying on my bed right now haha wow.  i know it’s because i’ve been having just about the worst time in life lately, with myself and my general confidence in everything i do, why i can’t seem to maintain friendships, and just?  why don’t i have a main writing partner after all this time?  im sorry, i know it probably sounds childish but i just?  see all these people have a main to write and ship with and i.  can’t seem to get that.  nor have i ever gotten it, really.  more than once, i’ve been told that my replies are exhausting, and that’s why they take so long for them to reply.  ‘cept, they eventually fade off, anyway so, at the end of the day, i always end up asking myself if my writing is too boring?  is it too repetitive?  too lengthy?  is it lacking formatting or pretty enough icons?  am i too serious for the casual rper, and i just scare people off after a while?  because that’s usually what happens to me.  and i tend to just hate myself and stop writing on here for a while before coming back with my usual apology about having been gone.  that’s also why i’m goddamn baffled by this ask.  we’ve never even interacted, liesl, and yet, here you are, saying this to someone who—i don’t know?—doesn’t compare to someone so dedicated to their muse?  wtf.  oh my god.  i am just.  crying a lot and i feel overwhelmed and legitimately stupid but seriously, i look up to you so much.   in fact, i’m still intimidated by you.  you’ve always been someone i only watch from afar.  you’re probably thinking that i’m being dramatic but no, i am not because this is how i feel.  you’re one of the few shining beacons in the swrpc and i?  feel good when you bother commenting/liking one of my posts.  like ‘wow, liesl noticed me today’  lmao.   i just.   thank you for this message.  im capping this and saving it forever; you won’t ever know how much this means to me.