#‘yes; well; i’m sure [the kid] also felt justified’ ‘hmm. maybe you’re right’

[fingertipsmp3]

Knowing someone since they were a child and then watching them have a child is, above all, extremely funny because you start to see the parallels between the way they were when they were young and the way their kid behaves

[the-insomniac-emporium]

We Don't Talk (About That) [Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader]

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: Affection has never been Cassandra's strong point- neither the giving nor the receiving of it. But when it comes to you, she's determined to try, regardless of the obstacles in her path. Notes: Spiritual sequel to Everybody Talks Too Much, but they can be read in any order. Reader is selectively mute, but ends up talking in this one, partially due to being high on a fever, oops. The reader in this one is also a lil bit sassier than some of my other ones, hence why it has tentatively earned my "blunt teeth sharp tongue" tag.

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“Seriously? You’re wearing white for this?” Cassandra says, eying you with a look of disbelief. All you can really do is shrug in response. After all, your hands are occupied with your current task: Wiping blood off of the corridor floor. That didn’t leave much room for miming, or writing anything down. “You’re going to fuck up your sleeves, you know that, right?” Another shrug, this time with an added humming noise, just for fun. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why Cassandra was hanging out, let alone why she cared if you got your shirt dirty. It’s not like she would be the one to do the laundry. More than that, she was the one who had decided to punish a maiden in the middle of the hallway.

Still, you would never think to voice your questions, or otherwise indicate your feelings. Not that you had feelings about her, or anything, the mere idea of that was ridiculous. For a completely unrelated reason you find yourself glad that she could not see your cheeks from where she stood. Glad I don’t talk, you think, otherwise I’d probably say something really stupid right now. Instead, you focus on your work, scrubbing hard at the floors. Despite your companion’s warning, not even a single drop of blood ends up staining your clothing. That’s why I rolled up my sleeves first, babe!... And that’s why I don’t talk, you think, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

“That was fast. Sure you didn’t miss a spot?” Cassandra asks, stepping over to where you had cleaned. Before you can protest she’s leaning down to examine the floor. Which would, you know, be fine. If she didn’t have blood (and dirt, and who knows what else) on her gloves, that is. Groaning, you try to slap her wrist, temporarily forgetting your place. Next thing you know she’s pushing you to the ground, on top of you with her hand posed to strike. You flinch, instantly, clamping your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. But, just as quickly as she had gotten on you, she climbs right off, refusing to meet your confused gaze, refusing to answer your unspoken questions. “You’re lucky that mother thinks you’re useful,” she spat, leaving you with one last angry huff.

“What the fuck?...” You whisper, as soon as you think she won’t be able to hear you. Of all the things she could have possibly done in response… this was the only one you couldn’t justify. There’s only one thing that could possibly help you cope with your confusion: Cleaning. Thankfully, the same person who had just flipped your mind upside down had also left a few boot prints in her path. Humming softly to yourself, you get right back to work, gleefully ignoring what had just transpired.

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“Why do they do that?” Cassandra snapped, storming into the library, immediately demanding her older sister’s attention. However, Bela does not respond, merely looking up from her book with an eyebrow raised. Frustrated, Cassandra sits down at the table before slamming her fists onto it. At this, Bela sets her book to the side, realizing that she couldn’t ignore this tantrum. “Oh come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about!”

“Yes, I do, because they’re the only person you’ve given a damn about in a decade, maybe longer,” Bela replies, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have any clue what you’re complaining about this time. What did they do, hmm? Did they brush their hand up against yours? Make a heart with their hands again? Oh, let me guess, they smiled when you walked into the room.” At this point, Cassandra was nothing if not predictable, much to her own frustration. How often had she come to her sister, in confidence, to have this very conversation? Countless times, and never once with a clear goal in mind.

Just a head full of thoughts of you.

“They touched me,” she admits, after a few seconds of agonizing silence. The words feel heavy and wrong on her tongue, like they were coated in syrup, too sweet to be anything other than sickening. “Slapped my hand away like I was a kid sticking a fork in an outlet, for fuck’s sake! Who do they think I am?” Now those words felt better. Angrier- left a worse taste in her mouth, but easier to swallow.

“That depends, were you trying to stick a fork into an outlet? Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do to impress them,” Bela teases, laughing even when her arm gets smacked in retaliation. “Maybe you should just ask them, then, if you can’t fathom why they might touch you. Or you could simply wallow in self pity for another decade, pretending to hate their guts when really you’re desperate to get laid?”

“When did you get so rude?” Cassandra snaps, standing up with a scowl.

“Oh, probably about the eighth time we had this talk?” Bela replies, quick as a whip, smiling all the while. If she was going to have to endure this sort of thing this often, she might as well have some fun with it. But this appeared to be the end of this particular conversation, with a miffed Cassandra making her exit, once more leaving Bela to read in peace… for a while, at least.

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She can’t find you. She’s looked just about everywhere, asked every maiden she’s come across, and all any of them had to say were nervous apologies. Where were you? Why were you absent, now of all times, when she had finally decided to speak to you? Curse my luck, Cassandra thinks, barely restraining herself from wreaking havoc on her surroundings. Though maybe they’ll show up to take care of my mess, she muses, then thinks better of it when she imagines your exhausted expression. After all, there was only one place left for her to look: Your personal quarters. If you weren’t there, then, well, there’d be a new problem entirely.

“They better have a damn good reason for hiding away,” Cassandra mumbles under her breath. Then she’s opening the door to your room, not bothering to knock. What could you want to hide from her anyway? “Oh shit.” Evidently she hadn’t thought this through. There you were, asleep in bed, shirtless, a washcloth on your forehead. Every muscle in your body seemed to be shivering, and the occasional weak murmur leaves your lips. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Cassandra to act. Clearly you’re cold, hence the shaking, regardless of how warm it feels to her. So she’s grabbing a blanket from your dresser, quickly covering you with it. “Is that better?”

You don’t respond. Not that she truly expected you to. But the way you continue to shake has her even more concerned, and a trace of panic starts to set in. She searches for other blankets, laying them on top of you, confused as to why you aren’t getting better. C’mon, asshole, she thinks, I’m trying to help you! As if summoned by her frustrations, a maiden soon swings the door open, freezing in place when they see her. Instantly she’s whirling around to face them, a cruel remark dying in her throat. Of course it was one of her mother’s favorites. Eventually, she would have to find someone else to take her frustrations out on.

“Lady Cassandra? What are you-” Cynthia, senior staff member of Castle Dimitrescu, veteran of more than five years, starts to ask. But once she spies the pile of blankets on top of you… well, her eyes go wide. “Damn it, my Lady, you’re going to kill them!” With that said she’s rushing forward, setting down a basket of who-knows-what on your nightstand, before quickly removing the extra sheets. Half confused, half furious, Cassandra stands nearby, unable to decide how to react. Perhaps noticing this, Cynthia is quick to explain her actions. “They have a fever, the worst one I’ve seen in all of my years here. They may be shivering, but trust me, their skin might as well be on fire.”

“I was just trying to help,” Cassandra defends, words rushing out before she can stop herself. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“Clearly, and I don’t blame you. Let’s just be glad that I came to check on them, hmm?” Cynthia suggests, giving an oddly motherly (i.e. reassuring) smile. On one hand, Cassandra doesn’t appreciate being talked to like this, at least not by someone other than her mother. On the other hand, well, she is glad that she hadn’t accidentally killed you. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow back down, Cassandra moves to lean against the wall closest to you. She can’t help but frown when she sees the way your eyes flurry about beneath their lids. What are you dreaming about? Is it a nightmare, she wonders, or something softer, like you deserve?

“Can… can I help?” She asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. It was too late to save herself from embarrassment, but it wasn’t too late to contribute to your recovery. Or at least that’s what she hoped. There’s relative silence for a few moments, as Cynthia thinks over her words, swapping out the damp washcloth on your forehead all the while. When she finally replies, she does not look up from her task. Always the professional.

“Stay with them. If they get worse, come find me immediately. If they wake up, try to get them to drink some water, and ask if they’ve been injured recently. I couldn’t find any wounds on them, but this mess reeks of an infection,” Cynthia says. Opening the basket she had brought in with her, she removes several bottles from within, examining their labels with a tight-lipped frown. “None of these will do shit- pardon my language, my Lady- if it’s an infection, but it should help them fight off the fever until I can get them some proper antibiotics. Well, until the Duke can, that is. Make sure to ask them if they have any allergies to medicine before you give them anything, and please read the directions. They only need to take one kind of pill, alright? I only brought a few kinds in case they can’t have certain ones. Is that clear, Lady Cassandra?”

“Crystal clear,” she chimes, only briefly looking away from you. It’s enough for Cynthia, however, and she leaves with a simple bow. Once more alone with you, Cassandra approaches, gently taking your hand within her own. “You’d better wake up soon. I don’t want to have to babysit you all day…” Doesn’t want to, but would, if that’s what you needed. Wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. At most, she’d make someone fetch her a book to read while she waited. Except… now that she glanced around your room, she found that there were some things to keep her entertained. Like your beloved notepad.

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

What do you mean? I don’t think she feels that way about me. Don’t be ridiculous, she doesn’t like anyone. Because I pay attention to her! It’s not hard to know what she does and does not appreciate, you just need to observe her. No, not like that, don’t be gross. Keep teasing me and my cheeks won’t be the only thing around here that’s red. Oh fuck off, fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you owe me one. Then the page ends, with the next two having been torn out. A few letters here and there are still legible, on what little remains of the missing pieces. Lov- and want her- and wish. Try as she might, Cassandra cannot find the rest of the pages. What had you possibly written that would make you discard all evidence? It’s not like anyone normally went through your notepad. Had you predicted that one day Cassandra would do this?

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She growls, dropping the object with an angry sigh. “Who the hell were you writing about? Who were you fucking talking to? Why won’t you wake up, you goddamn asshole?” Through all of her shouting, you do nothing but shake in place, shivering against a non existent cold. Several hours had passed since Cassandra’s arrival, without you doing so much as batting an eye. Slowly but surely, she was being driven insane, exhausted from worry and jealousy alike. Strange how the most obvious answer eluded her so consistently… Yet hope does not entirely abandon her, as eventually her tantrum manages to pierce the haze around your overheating mind.

“Shhhhhhh. Please,” you mumble, eyes still closed, hardly aware of anything around you. All you really knew was that someone was being insufferable. Hell, your fever was driving you wild, and you didn’t even think about the fact that you hadn’t spoken out loud in front of anyone for over three months. Later, after you recovered, you would be glad that it was Cassandra who finally heard your voice. “Inside voice, mhm? Sleepy time…”

“Did- did you just?” Cassandra asks, stunned, shaking her head as if it might make her realize she was dreaming. But no, this was real, and you really had just spoken to her. It’s enough of a shock to render her speechless for a minute or so.

“Thanks, babe. Need to sleep this off. Or… no, wait, I was supposed to tell someone something?” You ramble, trying to sit up, a hand instinctively going to hold your head. The washcloth falls off of you, and you stare at it in confusion. Before you can start questioning the nature of it’s (or your own) existence, you are distracted by Cassandra, who has traded her own perplexion for determination. Next thing you know, you’re quietly sipping at a glass of water. Exhausted, despite having just been asleep, you eye the nearby medicine with curiosity. “I’m… supposed to tell Cassandra something, maybe? Fuck, why is it so warm in here?”

“You have a fever, dumbass,” Cassandra replies, once more finding her voice, still too overwhelmed to process what’s happening. “Look, you have to take something for your head, okay? Then we can… then we can talk about your feelings all you want, okay?” Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous about what you needed to talk about. Or maybe she was just, for once in her life, being hopeful. Regardless, she presents the medicine to you, getting ready to ask about allergies. Before she can, however, you’ve silently reached for the Ibuprofen and started opening it up.

“This’ll do. For the head, not for talking. We don’t-” you pause to take the pills, gulping down half a glass of water with them- “we don’t talk about that. Feelings. Makes her get mad, and I don’t want her to be mad,” you say, shuddering a little at the thought.

“I won’t get mad this time. Besides, you don’t normally talk at all,” Cassandra replies, rolling her eyes again. Finally, for the first time since waking up, you take a good, long look in her direction. Suddenly you’re putting the pieces together, groaning in protest when you do. How had you not realized? How deep into this fever were you?... “Don’t tell me you just figured it out, ‘babe’? I’m amazed you’re functioning at all right now.”

“Fuck you, Cassie,” you snap, mostly teasing. If she wasn’t freaking out about what you had said, well, then maybe you didn’t need to say much more at all. “You’ll still like me when I’m awake enough to be too scared to talk, right?”

“Honestly?... I was hoping this would be more of a permanent thing,” she admits, refusing to meet your gaze as she puts away the unused medicine. “But I guess I can live with being the only one who knows what your voice sounds like. So don’t you dare fucking talk to anyone else, alright?” She’s joking now, too, sounding more relaxed than she usually was. Even with your body fighting against itself, you can’t help but laugh with her. Then she’s slowly sitting on the edge of your bed, next to you, watching you with adoration clear in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine, right? Because if you die on me, I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“With you as my nurse? I’ll be lucky to last the night,” you joke, pretending to whimper when she gives you a playful slap on the arm. “Nah, nah, I’ll be alright, just as soon as I get some rest. Probably. Maybe you should, uh, stay with me? Just in case.” Next thing you know, Cassandra is pushing you down against the mattress, placing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then she puts the washcloth back on you, making sure it’s still somewhat cold. Without another word she settles in, leaning against the backboard of the bed, close enough for you to feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn’t risk raising your temperature. “Goodnight, Cass,” you murmur, before letting yourself drift back to sleep...

[passport-guardian-benrey]

Comic' nightmares

A story written with @neon--nightmare as Fresh, about 11 Year old Comic having a nightmare and Fresh having to deal with that

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Comic woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, their breathing is a bit uneven, they're shaking and tears are streaming down their cheekbones, they tried wiping them away, after that they found their glasses and got out of bed, the small skeleton slowly went towards Fresh' room

In the pitch blackness, Fresh creaked one eye open wearily, his single pupil setting a faint white glow across his face. The parasite sat up and rubbed his eyes, not bothering to reach for his shades for now. He’d just been fast asleep, dreamless, for once, so he couldn’t imagine what had woken him up, but... Fresh had an inkling as to why, and he usually trusted his instincts.

Silently, Fresh stood up, lifting his glasses from his beside, and slipping them on as he went. He opened his door, took a step... and quite literally bumped into Comic, catching himself by surprise.

”C-brah?”

Comic looked up at him, They look scared, they wiped the tears from their face again, "I-I . . ." They started crying more.

Fresh mentally froze. He’d had a sense something was wrong with Comic, but... Crying??? He didn’t know how to deal with crying! But, obviously Comic wasn’t hurt, so... Yeah, never mind, not actually bad. Fresh crouched down on one knee, casting his mind back to what he’d seen other people do on TV.

”Hey... What’s wrong, lil broski? Somethin’ happenin wit’ ya?”

"I-I h-had a n-nightm-mare . . ." Comic said it while wiping their tears again, their voice was cracking.

”Shhh, shhh.” Fresh wiped a tear off Comic’s cheek, and flicked it away.

”It’s aight, C-dawg, I’m here, I’m here. Ya know it ain’t... Real, yeah? No point ta worryin’ all up about things that ain’t gonna happen.” Of course, Fresh neglected to mention his own nightmares, and how he sometimes snapped awake in a cold sweat, silently heaving for air. That was dumb, and hey, it wasn’t real! Fresh trusted Comic as much as he was capable of, but he still wasn’t in the habit of giving out his... ‘weaknesses’ all willy-nilly.

Suddenly Comic hugged Fresh, hiding their face in Fresh' clothes, "Th-they h-hurt me a-again . . . it h-hurt s-so m-much . . ." They're still shaking.

Fresh frowned, the letters on his glasses flickering briefly, before he wrapped his arms around Comic in turn, rubbing his back. Yeah, this may have been... more than he’d signed up for.

”Hey, hey. Dey ain’t here any more, lil brah. ‘S just you an me, yo! Jus’ all up Fresh an’ Comic, see! Nobody else here.” He went to rub Comic’s head, and thought better of it at the last moment; yeah, if he still thought his bullies were in the house with him, best not to go near the wound they left. Fresh felt a slight twinge in his gut, at that, but shoved it away.

”’Ey, I got a RADICAL idea, homeslice!! How ‘bout we all up go on a walk o’ da place, just ta up an PROVE dey ain’t here?? An’, ya know, even if some unfresh burglar-brah is here ta steal all ya snacks, I’M here ta protect ya~!!” He grinned down at Comic, lifting up his shades with one hand to give a wink.

"O-okay . . ." Comic is trying to calm down, they're still a bit shaky

In one swift movement, Fresh scooped Comic up in his arms, bridal-style, and his grin widened. ”C’mon, C-dawg, lead da way! Where ya wanna go first?”

After a brief moment, he added, ”We can walk an’ talk at da same time, by da way. If ya want~!”

Comic flinched a bit when they were picked up, "B-back to m-my r-room f-for now . . ."

That caught Fresh a bit off guard for a moment, but he managed to mask it quickly, barely letting a shred of surprise cross his face.

”Aiiight, back ta da room it is!! You’re da bus driver here, ya ridin’ on da FRESH EXPRESS! <3” And with that, still carrying the smaller skeleton, Fresh skipped his way back to Comic’s room, oblivious to Comic’s discomfort.

Comic is holding onto him, when they entered the room, the small skeleton looked around and wanted to be put down when they saw their scarf

Fresh set Comic down gently, still keeping a close eye on him. ”Dere ya go, lil brah, go get it. Ya feelin’ any better now?”

Comic took the scarf and wrapped it around their neck, then they went back to Fresh, "a little b-bit . . ." They're not crying anymore, but they are still a bit shaky

”PERFECT, yo!!! Hold on a sec~!” Fresh scooped up Comic once more, then looked around.

”Ya still want dat house tour, or d’ya just wanna up an crash here fo’ now? Ya look MAD wiped out, lil broski.”

"We c-could go around . . ." Comic then yawned quietly

”Ya wish is mah command, yo! Maybe I can, hmm...” Fresh trailed off for a moment, thinking. Then he walked over to Comic’s bed, snatching a pillow off and positioning it in the crook of his arm, so the other skeleton had somewhere that wasn’t bone to lay his head.

”Lil cozier now?”

Comic put their head on the pillow, "y-yeah . . ."

”BAM, SLEEPYTIME CENTRAL!!!” Fresh grinned excitedly, completely ignoring the irony of how loud he usually talked.

”So... Are ya thirsty, huh? Wit’ all dat cryin’, I’m surprised ya ain’t all lookin up like a piece o’ dried jerky right now, ah hahaha!” Fresh beamed at his own joke, the YOLO on his shades glowing slightly in the dark.

Comic chuckled quietly at the joke, "I c-could drink something . . ."

”Rad!!! Hold on just a sec, homedawg, we gonna get HYDRATED up in here!!!” Fresh nestled him closer and headed off in the direction of the kitchen, more slowly this time.

”Now, I ain’t all sure what time it is an’ junk, so I ain’t sure if it’s early enough in da mornin’ fo’ breakfast... I know some peeps up an’ chug warm milk ta get ‘emselves ta sleep an all dat, how’s it soundin’ ta ya? Plus, ya get dat sicknasty CALCIUM in ya diet!! Wicked strong BONES, yo, ya gonna be liftin’ towers in no time!!” Fresh was mostly talking to fill the silence, people did that, right? They’ve gotten this far already, no point in letting Comic’s mind wander back to his nightmares.

"It sounds nice . . ." Comic is rather calm now, they closed their eyesockets

Fresh chuckled softly, pulling up to the kitchen. Balancing Comic steadily, making sure there was as little jostling as possible, Fresh poured the skeleton a cup of milk, kicking the fridge shut and popping the half-full mug into the microwave. Hey, he didn’t want Comic to spill it on either of their clothes on the way back!

The gentle whirring of the microwave filled the quiet kitchen as they waited for the beep, a warm orange light washing over the two. Comic’s eyes were closed, but Fresh continued to smile down at him. It’d be so easy to just possess him like this, with his guard down... But, no, there was no point in it yet. This whole debacle would go a long way in gaining Comic’s trust, Fresh was willing to bet, and that was more than useful enough to justify the work he’d went through.

Besides, he’d gathered a lot of information... Namely that, yes, the incident continued to affect him deeply, something that Fresh already knew - but it was very interesting to see the extent of how deeply. It wasn’t often the parasite had a front seat to this sort of thing... And to see how Fresh was the first one Comic went to for comfort was hilarious, considering the reason Fresh had stuck around in the first place! There were so many possibilities... But, no, he wouldn’t play his hand too soon. He wanted to see where this was going, first! And all the things that trust could lead to...

The microwave dinged, jolting Fresh out of his thoughts. He gently eased the door open and pulled the steaming mug out with one hand, nudging Comic gently. ”Ya still awake in dere, lil brah...? Milk’s up!”

Comic looked at him, they're a bit sleepy

”Aw... Nothin’? Well, I guess da milk can wait a lil. Dey call it WARM milk, not steamin’ milk, after all~!”

Still holding both the mug and Comic, Fresh turned heel and headed back to the bedroom, making sure none of the liquid sloshed out as they went. When they arrived, Fresh gently plopped his cargo down onto the bed, leaving the mug on the nightstand and tucking Comic in. Once that was done, Fresh plopped down next to him, the mattress creaking slightly under the sudden weight.

”All tucked in, an’ wit’ somethin’ ta drink when ya wake up!! How ya feelin’ now, lil homie?” Fresh grinned, obviously proud of himself and his handiwork.

"better . . . Thank you" Comic smiled slightly at him

”Haha... No problem, C-slice. Ya can always count on me, aight~?” Fresh had been planning to leave and wait for Comic to call him back, but he thought better of it; instead, he climbed into bed next to Comic, tucking himself in and placing his shades safely besides him. The other skeleton had seen the parasite many times without his glasses, after all, though, luckily, never asked why his “eyelight” was cracked like that.

Also, Fresh hadn’t had the time to change out of his pajamas in the first place, so it was perfect! Who said that only kids could wear dinosaur-patterned sleep pants? Nobody, that’s who. Fresh sighed and nestled himself in, closing his eyes - although, if anything happened, he was always a light sleeper. For now, though, he highly doubted Comic could do any harm to him... and with that, Fresh was out.

Comic looked at Fresh, they decided to cuddle up to him, they closed their eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

[shimmershae]

My thoughts on Episode 3--Hunted.

 Most of you lovelies already realize this, but my thoughts tend to zig and zag quite a bit, lol.  So.  To save some of you the headache and spare you from seeing spoilers you’d rather not see yet, I’m again placing them behind a cut.  

First things first.  I have totally turned into Yvette Nicole Brown with her TWD notebooks, lol, and I’m not even sorry.  I just felt like it would be fun to go back when the final episode is in the books and see how well my thoughts from these early episodes line up with what I’m feeling when we say our (not-so) final goodbyes.  

But that’s enough about that. Let’s get to this thing.  

It really is insane how very much I love Melissa McBride.  Just hearing her doing the previously on TWD recap voiceover makes me ridiculously happy.  

Cole!  Dude!  We hardly knew ya.  

Not gonna lie.  That first shot of Maggie in all the chaos reminded of a shirt I’ve seen.  It says--”Well, well, well.  If it isn’t the consequences of my actions.”  

I have to hand it to Angela and the rest of her team.  These opening scenes--on all 3 episodes--have been BOMB so far.  They really hook you in right away.  At least IMHO.  

I realize I’m behind the game on this little tidbit, but how much do I adore the fact that Dog is now in the opening credits?  

Okay.  Alexandria might look like it’s been on some kind of post-apocalyptic bender but all our girls are looking beautiful as ever.  Maybe it’s Maybelline, lol.  

I love to see Kelly and Carol still gravitating toward each other.  It really speaks to each woman’s heart.  Carol wants to make amends so badly and Kelly just has the most lovely, warm, forgiving heart.  

Carol’s point about Alexandria still needing the horses to help with the heavy lifting and pointing out the walls and rebuilding won’t matter quite as much if they’re limited by their  hunger and what they can physically lift on their own isn’t wrong.  But I’m sure the same viewers that were okay with Daryl and Co. going out on Maggie’s suicide mission (using the same reasoning) and saying it made sense for the bigger picture will pretend not to recognize that the same element is there in Carol’s desire to go out there and look for the horses.  You know.  Because it was Carol’s idea and not that of their fave(s).  

Aaron, Man.  Or maybe I should say Angela.   You just had to put a pit of dread in my belly mentioning Buttons like that.  RIP, Buttons.  You deserved better.  I’m still traumatized.  

Look at all the babies bonding.  Look at RJ getting to sit at the big kid table.  

“My mom always comes back.”  She damn well better.  Those babies need her.  Until she does, though, Uncle Daryl and Aunt Carol (and Aunt Rosita and everybody else) are going to be there.  

Anyway.  Poor RJ.  He barely ever gets any lines, lol.  

Hershel and Judith are obviously the mini-adults in this group and baby Rhee is already more cynical and jaded than his sweet daddy was until they reached Alexandria and the wheels started to come off.  

So.  Does Maggie just think everybody’s already dead here or what?  Hmm.  

You know.  Any building can be creepy AF when the lights are off and it’s dark, lol.  Any building.  

So much darkness so far this season.  I’m going to have to invest in some blackout curtains.  I just know it.  

Where are all those stairs leading?  Why am I thinking of Hitchcock?  Am I mixing up my scary, suspenseful movies?  Probably.  

Of fucking course, Maggie dropped her flashlight.  Thank goodness she had that lighter at the ready just before Ghost Face Reaper took a swipe at her.  

Is that Father G with a screwdriver impaled in his thigh?  Listen.  These people deserve a Mega Bottle of pain killers and a week just vegging out in a soft, luxurious bed.  

All these horror movie tropes.  Some of them are cheesy, yes.  But I’m totally here for it.  

LMAO.  That’s it, Maggie.  A good old punch in the nuts works every time.  

Alden really is having a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.  

Negan is still Negan.  Self-serving and looking out for number one.  But I believe the man really does feel the group is his group too.  He’s like that long lost, sketchy uncle nobody wants to acknowledge much less invite to the dinner table, but that bond?  However thin?  Is there.  

I am both hating that Maggie is being forced to work with the man that murdered her husband (my baby Glenn) and finding it fascinating the lengths she’s willing to go to survive.  This your plan, Angela?  

Rosita and Carol!  How sad is it that the last really significant scene I can remember the two of these women sharing was way back?  Before Rick and Co. attacked Negan’s outpost and Maggie and Carol were subsequently taken?  If only the show had done more of these kind of scenes.  

How much do I love all the girls working together?  Gimps would never.  They’d all be stuck back at Alexandria minding the kids and the community.  

Shallow aside--Rosita is so pretty in this scene.  

Rosita being worried about Carol honestly makes my heart hurt, because it’s about damn time more of them actually did.  Her saying Abraham is trying to tell her something in her dreams is interesting.  Angela sure loves her dreams, doesn’t she?  

Where are Daryl’s dreams, hmm?  No.  Seriously.  I guess they want to give some viewers plausible deniability until the bitter end.  

“Really?  We’re just gonna go toward the screaming?  Cool.”  Hahaha.  You know.  Even the smart people in horror movies sometimes bite it, Negan.  Just saying.  Maggie really does need to “stop running up the staircase” when she could just run out the front door though, lol.  

Poor Duncan.  I think you could have been another Tyreese, Jerry type for me.  

WTF does this show have against horses?  Those poor creatures.  

Kelly is totally me right now.  I’d be freaking inconsolable.  

Carol needed that hug.  Thank you, Magna.  From the bottom of this tired fangirl’s heart, thank you.  

Why give us that beautiful, golden shot with the horses when you’re planning to stab us through the heart later and twist the knife.  Oh.  Yeah.  That’s exactly why.  

Oh snap!  Father G’s delivery when he tells that Reaper “I’m not.  God isn’t here anymore.”  Cold as ice.  

Judas.  That the Reapers’ work.  Or.  Damn.  Either way, that’s harsh.  

Back to what Alden was saying.  All these oprhaned children.  Who’s going to take on Adam if he dies?  That poor kid has had a rough go of it.  Knowing that, makes you wonder what Alden was thinking volunteering for the suicide mission.  

Omigosh.  There went Agatha.  Terrible way to go.  Right, Beatrice?  

I’m sobbing.  Carol with the horse.  That hurt my baby so much but she hurt herself for her family the same way she has been doing since the Prison.  Melissa Mcbride?  When she cries, I cry.  Every effin’ time.  Aaron being there just made it hurt more.  But at least someone was there to see how and really take in how she continues to break pieces of herself off to keep her family as whole and safe and happy as she can.  

Rewinding a minute--that Magna and Carol conversation.  I get Magna’s reasoning too.  I do.  But Angela is just making everything so dire right now so that the sun when Connie is ultimate found shines a ltitle brighter.  

Those babies know they’re eating horse.  I could never.  

That’s got to be a different Coco.  She’s even smaller.  But she’s gorgeous.  

Fucking finally.  Angela having the other characters notice after an eternity of being blind to it, just how much Carol sacrifices of herself for them.  It’s so long overdue and I imagine Rosita’s even more worried for Carol now.  It’s a shame it’s taken 11 seasons.  My baby’s had blood on her hands trying to keep her family safe and whole and happy and fed for a long damn time.  So heartbreaking watching her try to scrub the blood away.  

Sweet, sweet hug that Kelly gave Magna.  She’s such a sweetheart kid sis to all of them, isn’t she?  

Interesting place of refuge.  A gutted church.  A visual symbol, Angela, of where Maggie and the rest of our people are now perhaps?  

“It’s easy for you, isn’t it?  Being reckless with sombody’s life...”  Maggie.  Maggie.  Those words would have hit so much harder if we hadn’t spent the majority of the last 2.5 episodes watching you ignore sound advice just because it came out of the mouth of somebody you (justifiably) hate.  

But will Alden be there when Maggie and Negan get back?  That is the question.  Or will he eventually Lucille himself?  

That little bit of lineup Negan music to remind the audience of Negan lovers and sympathizers that he once took great pleasure in murderously swinging a bag at people’s heads was a nice, subtle touch there.  Like agree with her or not, Maggie  is literally left to rely  on the hope, however small it is, that Negan has changed just enough that he won’t try to finish a job he taken on years before--killing what’s left of her.  

Oh lawd.  Next episode sees the return of a character literally nobody asked for.  How excited am I not?  

Dog better not be harmed or so help me.  

Now for Angela’s weekly explanations of WTF she/there were thinking because they been doing this plausible deniability thing so long some people out there watching with biased, muddy stan glasses can no longer separate head canon from canon.  

Is Maggie worried at all about Daryl or does she just assume his superhero powers are in full effect in this episode?  

“You can’t really say it wasn’t going to happen anyway.”  Not Angela pointing out that simply laying the blame for literally everything bad that ever happens at Carol’s feet isn’t the answer.  Say it louder for those in the back.  Alpha was going to do what Alpha wanted to do.  

“There is love there.  There is respect there.  However, there’s also frustration...”  You damn skippy.  Friendships and human relationships are complex AF.  Like Carol. She’s honestly one of the most complicated characters on this show and any show, IMHO.  That’s what makes her so memorable and such a lightning rod for discussion.  

I know I might be in a minority, but I really feel like they need more of those little scenes between the kids to keep things real.  

Kang saying she always feels like she’s going to get murdered in a staircase or parking lot is relatable, funny, and sad all at the same time.  It’s a girl thing.  

Why is Carol’s story giving me Dark Knight vibes?  Like I feel like she’ll gladly shoulder the burden of their distrust, their hate, or their judgment as long as the hard choices she makes keeps them safe.  And she’s still ultimately going to come back to save their asses even when they forsake her.  Just like Bruce Wayne/Batman.  Am I reaching too far, lol?  Because sometimes I do that.  

Anyway.  This is the third episode of the season and the third episode in a row that I mostly enjoyed.  I don’t know if I’m just so relieved and happy to have all the characters and my show back or what, but overall?  I’ve been pleased with the episodes and found something to love in all of them.  

There’s a much stronger horror vibe woven throughout Season 11 so far.  I feel like it’s a return to the roots of the show and I like that.  Literally none of the characters are making perfect choices and this viewer is here for it.  My only complaint so far is there hasn’t been enough Carol but what we’ve been given has felt like a gift and significant in a way that Gimps’ version was not.  Also?  I really hope the trend of the ladies working together and supporting each other continues because they rule the TWD world, lol.  

Hope you enjoyed at least some of my TWD word vomit.  

Until next episode.  

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXXVIII: Four Pomegranate Seeds

Back in elementary school, I had a crush on this girl named Pomme. Being as young as I was, I didn’t know how to act on my feelings. All I knew was that I wanted to be friends with her. But those feelings were uneasy, as well, and it would present itself as a silly mixture of wanting to be near her at all times and also wanting to steer clear of her at all times.

What resulted was us spending time together on the playground, playing and having fun, but also a strong desire to hide and find somewhere else to be whenever the opportunity presented itself. Another thing that would happen was that I would act in ways that I should have known better than to have acted.

One defining instance was in third grade when our class took a field trip to the local beach. Everyone had plenty of fun and splashed others with water, made sandcastles, and little sand angel imprints. Pomme and I, however, sat off away from the others. She too was building something out of sand, but it wasn’t a castle. It didn’t look like anything in particular. Maybe she just wanted to make a pile. I recall trying to help her, adding little sticks to the top.

At one point, she leaned close to me said, “I wanna tell you a secret.” I felt little things in my arms and legs do a funny dance and my heart performed circus tricks.

“Wh...what is it?” I asked, a little bit on the nervous side.

She then pressed her face up to my ear and whispered, “I want to eat sand.”

It wasn’t what I expected to hear, but some part of me still saw it as an opportunity. Opportunity for what, I didn’t know, but I stood up anyway.

“You should go for it! I think if you want to eat sand, and if it makes you happy, then you gotta eat sand!” I felt so proud and I was sure I imagined myself as some kind of superhero.

Next thing I recall, however, was that the teacher dragged a crying Pomme toward me while I played out on the beach.

“Did you tell Pomme to eat sand?” The teacher asked. I looked over to Pomme and she was bawling her eyes out and saying how it tasted gross. I knew I was in trouble. I just nodded my head real slow.

“That’s not right. Proserpina, I have no choice but to write you a referral,” the teacher’s grim expression sealed my fate, and my perfect record was about to be tainted. “Now, apologize to Pomme.”

I looked over. It was a horrid sight.

“Sorry…” My voice trailed off as I only managed that one word.

“For?” The teacher pressed.

“For telling you to eat sand,” I added on, my words weak and flimsy.

“It’s so grody!” Pomme whined, and she spat out bits of sand from her mouth while at the same time I noticed snot run down her nose.

After that fateful field trip, Pomme and I stopped talking to each other. We avoided each other and word spread that I was some kind of bully that made other kids eat sand. Not a great time to be alive. In the next grade, I didn’t see her at all, and I heard she changed schools. From time to time I would think about what became of her. How I wondered if she ever came around to the taste of sand, or if she ever came up with a different wish. But whatever the case may be, I never knew. Once she was gone, I never saw nor heard from her for the rest of my days.

So what was the point of that recollection? Was it to say that I’m bisexual? No, because that would’ve only taken two words: “I’m bisexual.”

There, I said it. OK. So was it to say that I knew what it was like to act weird over a crush, so I could relate to my former roommate/friend? Well, sure, but the difference back then was that I was a little kid and my former roommate was in her 20s. In other words, I was justified.

Nor was that recollection meant to foreshadow that I would see that childhood friend again. There was no, “or so I thought.” Nothing like that. As much as part of me wishes it were so, I didn’t mind if it never happened. Some friends came and went through our lives and as great of a time as we may have had, they end up not leaving much of an impact. Maybe it was that when we parted with friends as kids, it was during more fun or carefree moments, so it didn’t seem to matter as much. Or it could have been that there were so many other friends to make due to being surrounded by people your own age.

That could have just been me. I wouldn’t say my experiences were universal, but it may have been easier to move on when there were others to flock to when one person left. I wasn’t really sure what the differences were. Things were the same at university, weren’t they? Maybe growing up took from me that carefree innocence or maybe I just found myself a stranger in what was once so familiar to me.

It was hard to say.

Those memories resurfaced, as if washing ashore after being lost at sea. There wasn’t any particular feeling attached other than the feeling of nostalgia. But it wormed its way in, found itself a home and dwelt in my mind rent-free.

“I think we should be apart for a while,” I told my boyfriend, Hades. I loved that cute, redheaded boy with his puffy hair, but it was just the environment.

It wasn’t the memory which spurned such a decision, but there was a general sense of longing.

“You mean like a break up?” He asked.

“No, nothing like that. I just think I need to go back to university. Like, physically. I still want to finish my education and it’s just been hard to do while living here. Please understand.”

“I do,” was what he told me.

Still, I was hesitant as I re-enrolled and opened the door to the dorm room.

“Looks like I’m back,” I muttered to myself and gulped.

In a strange sort of luck, I had been assigned the same room I had before I left – when I thought I had left for good. School had become too much for me as more and more of my time was spent living with Hades at his mom’s house. He exhumed corpses for a living and his mother was a mortician – I helped her out with that, made myself some money in the process. It was a nice, humble sort of living. But maybe hanging around stiff, dead folks wasn’t my cup of tea. Maybe it never was, and I just thought I could do it because I was doing something that my boyfriend loved doing.

Oh, how foolish that was.

The dorm’s setup was just the same as I had left it, as well: rather than multiple rooms, it was all one room and it had a bunk bed at the corner of the wall.

Yet the room was empty, save for the backs that I set upon the floor. Not just an empty in that there wasn’t much there, but that there was an absence present, one I couldn’t quite articulate.

Or maybe I can articulate all too well, I thought as the image of my former roommate came up. How her absence was felt, yet the absences of all those friends who came and went throughout childhood seemed to mean so little. That was another reason I dropped out: after she left, abrupt and without explanation, I was so focused on trying to find her, hoping that she was alive and well and save, that I just couldn’t focus on my studies. Whether it be the environment or the distress, it just wasn’t the right time.

I plopped down, headfirst on the bottom bunk of the bed. Fresh floral scent of clean sheets filled my nostrils and a serene smile forced its way out of me.

“It’s the right time now,” I sighed, a hint of ecstasy, “I’m back home.”

There were still things in my mind which wouldn’t go away. My registration said that I had a roommate already chosen, but didn’t provide a name, and I also didn’t see anyone upon entering.

Heh. Wasn’t it like this when I first met Demetria as well? I was already situated and made comfortable and I thought she must have been my roommate’s younger sister. Man, I feel bad about that. It feels like I was making fun of her height, which I did not mean to do at all. But I’m guessing I felt bad at the time too. Maybe nothing changes after all.

Somehow I had passed out. What brought me out of my sleep was a ticklish sensation as I felt something nudge against me. In a jolting panic, I bolted up and almost hit my head on the ceiling of the top bunk in the process.

“You. You’re in my bed,” groaned a hoarse, yet high-pitched voice. While that may have sounded like a contradiction, it wasn’t: I heard both a bird-like chirp as well as the tone of someone who had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed or went all day during the height of a heatwave without a drop of water.

I turned to see a cloaked girl, on the hinges of five feet tall and with messy blonde hair.

“Demetria?” I asked, surprised, and my voice just a little groggy as well.

“No. Hecate,” my new roommate corrected, “I don’t know who this ‘Demetria’ is, but that’s not me. Now get out of my bed.”

How specific of a denial. Hmm…

“What makes you think this is your bed?” I argued and scowled for good measure.

“I need to sleep closest to the floor so I can have easiest access to my rituals!” She explained, which explained nothing, but for emphasis, she slammed her stick down. “Especially because I have not yet mastered broom riding, so sleeping closer to the ceiling is not recommended at my current level as I could accidentally end up floating out the window in my sleep and falling to my death upon waking up.”

I...had no words. So instead, I tilted my head, let my jaw hang, and one word escaped from me:

“What?”

She sighed and shook her head.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. No, of course I do. Mortals don’t know any better. Very well: I am a witch. Get it now?”

“Like Wicca?” I asked in earnest. Far be it for me to make fun of someone, especially if it was a religious thing.

“No, I’m a creature of dark arts and forbidden sorcery, bound to this earth to curse any who dare cross my path. Animals cower before me, save for this frog I found the other day,” she reached into her cloak and pulled out a small box, opened it up, then a frog hopped out. I freaked out and stood on end away from the bed.

“You released a frog in our dorm!” I was outraged.

“Yes, that frog is my familiar,” she stated all proud with her hands on her hips, “also, my bed now.”

She curled up all snug on the bottom bunk. Somehow I felt as if I had been tricked. Bamboozled, even.

“Come on, really? I was here first!” I whined.

She glared at me. Somewhere around the bed, the frog was still nearby, hopping and croaking about.

“I’ll relent and give you the bottom bunk if you decide to become my apprentice. Deal?”

It really wasn’t worth it, I could have just taken the top. I used to love the top. But there was a nostalgia attached, something which told me it was only right, it was just, to take the bottom bunk.

“Sure. Deal,” I agreed, though it all seemed ridiculous, if I was being honest.

“The contract has been sealed. You are now bound to me,” she stated in what seemed like the lowest voice she could muster.

“I’m what now?”

Rather than answer, she got up and took to the ladder. Once she was on the top bunk, she poked her head down and glared at me.

“Just so you know, if I fall to my death in my sleep, I will curse you and your bloodline for all eternity.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I shrugged off the vague (possible) threat. For what it was worth, I didn’t think there was much of a bloodline to curse in the first place. I had no intention of raising any children. Besides, Hades couldn’t have gotten me pregnant even if he wanted to, though he did express some desire to undergo bottom surgery, just not any time soon.

While every cell in my body begged for me to stay in bed, I had other business to attend to and the day was far from over.

“I’m going to the campus bookstore. Gotta pick up stuff for my classes,” I told my roommate.

“Don’t know why you feel the need to tell me that, but okay,” Hecate replied, and it rubbed me the wrong way. If it had been my past roommate, she would have said something much different. Things like:

“I’m proud of you.”

(Okay, that one was a stretch)

“That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Good for you.”

Or even, “make sure you keep focused on your studies and actually use your textbooks.”

Even if she could be rude at times, and it always seemed like she was in her own world where nobody else mattered, I really appreciated that she tried to keep me focused and stressed the importance of study.

Once, I recall ranting about relationships and romance, two things which occupied about 75% of my mind at any given time.

“What am I going to do now that Myron dumped me? Man, I thought we were perfect,” I complained just the day after she saw me break down and confide in her.

As usual, her nose was stuck in a book. Knowing her, it was one about fish or other marine creatures.

“Uh...I wasn’t paying attention,” she commented, “I don’t care, but give me the rundown again?”

I sucked in a large amount of air, even coughed up a bit of dust particles (our dorm really needed an air purifier or a better ventilation system), then explained in the most concise way fathomable: “So I was dating this guy named Myron, right? Boring name, but seemed like a cool dude. Then I was walking out from one of my classes and he stops me in the middle of the hall and goes: ‘Sorry, Proserpina, but Athena is just hotter than you, so I’m gonna pursue her instead’ like a total asshole and it seemed so out of left field. I was pretty attached and it left me devastated and now it’s still on my mind and it’s hard to focus on my schoolwork as a result.”

“Mm...that sounds dumb,” Demetria replied in the blunt manner that she could at times, “but did you know that jellyfish are mostly water?”

“Yeah, I think I heard about that one before. Maybe from you,” I answered her question without much thought, then realized that I had distracted myself from the topic at hand, “but anyway! What do you think?”

“Uh...do you really want my advice? Because I don’t have any advice.”

“Yes! Something, please.”

“Okay...uh...so he’s dating Athena now? Also, what are up with these names? Like, do we go to some goddess school or something?”

I waved my hand away.

“No, he’s not, he just wants to.”

“Okay. Maybe try dating Athena, then? That’ll show your ex...guy...thing.”

“No, that sounds too petty. My heart wouldn’t be in it, anyway. I’ve never even spoken to Athena.”

I’m amazed that she didn’t even think to question whether or not I’d be into girls. Maybe I haven’t given her enough credit.

“If you’re so keen on dating, why not that Apollo guy? Is there an Apollo guy? I think there is. I heard he’s into justice and whatnot, so he seems like an upstanding guy. Better than whoever Byron is.”

“Myron,” I corrected, “and I don’t think there’s any Apollo.”

“There isn’t? Then where did I hear the name Apollo Justice before? Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t even be thinking about that stuff. We’re here to learn, not find the love of our lives. Focus on your studies and you’ll be fine,” she advised.

Despite her insistence that school was more important, it was just hard for me to concentrate on what was important. It was always that way, which made it a miracle that I even managed to graduate high school, let alone make it to university.

Besides that, she didn’t know my history, what it was like to live in my head. How could she when she was always in her own? Not to disparage her, but it did appear to be the case, no matter how much she nagged at me to get a good sleep and eat well and study. Yes, it probably seemed like I was the popular girl in high school, or that I dated around, couldn’t ever make up my mind, but that wasn’t quite true.

Friends were hard to come by. Like actual, good, honest friends. Yes, I had a few and we liked to laugh together and stay up late chatting over Facetime. But there wasn’t really much in the way of parties or big get togethers. Maybe I seemed like the type who would take part in those things, yet I just didn’t for whatever reason. It was actually somewhat of a shame when I thought about it, since I was sure I’d enjoy big hangouts or parties. It wasn’t a shyness or a pretentious feeling that I was too good for such things. It was just...I didn’t know what it was.

But it is true that I might have put more of an emphasis on relationships than I needed to. Dating, romance, they were things I longed for, enjoyed, but...well, I was in a happy, loving one now, and so I just didn’t need to think about such things. Friends, too, were a thing of the past, as first there was Demetria, and soon after, I lost contact with the few other friends I had. Hades counted, but…

I wasn’t sure. He didn’t come to mind very often anymore, even while I lived with him. When he did, it was usually made as an excuse to something rather than anything else.

There was little of note at the bookstore, few people were there and the whole thing looked like a ghost town. Even had there been more people, I wouldn’t have paid them much mind. I saw no reason to do so.

When I returned to my dorm room carrying several books in both hands up several flights of stairs, I noticed how quiet everything was.

It was quiet back then, too.

After I set the books down on the floor next to my bags (I’d put them in the closet later) I looked up and saw Hecate fast asleep with her frog on her lap.

“I guess she’s allowed to. She probably had a long day,” I remarked. From that angle, she actually looked peaceful and not an immature child fresh out of high school. Even her frog was still, aside from the little croaks.

Maybe there’s some validity to that frog being a familiar, I thought, but soon dismissed that same thought just as soon as it appeared.

I tried to pull out some of the textbooks and read in bed so as to get a head start on my classes. But it wasn’t long before all the words started to flow together and made less sense the more I went on. My eyelids fluttered, then turned heavy, and soon I passed out with my head in the middle of a textbook. When I awoke, sticky drool had flowed from out of my mouth and ran off until it found a home in the crevice between the two pages of the book.

I jolted up in a panic.

“What? How can this be?! I’ve never drooled before!” I shouted, enough that I woke my witchy roommate by accident.

“Ugh...can you keep it down? Witches require twice the amount of sleep that a normal person does,” she groaned above me.

I’ve got a feeling that’s not true, but I’m not gonna call her out on it.

“Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled, then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped up the drool. Just by that, it was clear that I was off to a terrible restart.

How did Demetria do it? How did she keep her nose in a book at all times and do nothing but study, study, study? It’s driving me mad just thinking about it.

As days passed, I attended classes and did my best to concentrate on what was taught. Without fail, however, something else always seemed to pop into my head and I would end up missing everything that the professor said.

There are so many students here staring with intent. It’s admirable, but how do they manage to do that? Are they all robots programmed to look at whoever’s in the front of the room? Lecture hall? Whatever it be? What if I were to stand up and walk to the front and just start pacing around, would they all look at me as well? That sounds narcissistic. I wouldn’t want them to. It’s just a little thought. For some reason I get the eerie feeling that they would. I wouldn’t even have to say anything.

By the time that whole string of thoughts ceased, I focused back in on what the professor was lecturing about.

“– And that’s how no-till farming works,” he explained. Our professor, Prof. Breeder, was a burly man with a long beard and tight fitting overalls. He spoke in a Southern drawl and it was like he lived everything he taught. At least that was my impression of him. I forgot everything he said about himself during the first day, so I could have been totally wrong and just making assumptions.

Class was soon dismissed without me having learned anything. I headed back off to my dorm room to give myself a break before the next class. I had two classes on Wednesdays, one ended right at noon, and the other started at 2 PM. Which gave me a two hour break to wind down and prepare.

As soon as I opened the door to my dorm, I was paralyzed in fear.

“What. Is. Going. On?” I stammered out the words.

There, seated in the middle of the floor, was Hecate, with a large black ceramic pot. She had a large ladle in her hand and seemed to be stirring something. I looked below the pot to see a portable hot plate.

“Hi. I’m brewing potions,” she stated without looking up, too focused on her concoction. I peered over to see a brownish tinged liquid and little potato and carrot pieces. Steam billowed from it, a faint scent of chicken permeated through the air.

Great. And I just got this place air freshened, too.

“Why are you making soup in our dorm?” I balked.

“I’m not making soup. They’re potions. I already told you that,” she groaned, then held up a wooden spoon that I failed to notice had been sitting beside her, “would you like a sample?”

I leaned in and wrapped my mouth around the spoon, then swallowed its contents in one fell swoop. Despite its searing heat, I didn’t mind, and the taste seemed to seep into every one of my taste buds and overtake my tongue. There was no denying it: there wasn’t just a faint chicken scent, but the exact taste of chicken stock broth. More than that, the potatoes seemed to have melted into the broth to create an equal measure smooth and creamy taste, something I didn’t even think possible.

“Oh. Oh wow,” I was near-speechless.

“It’s a love potion,” she explained, “I will not hold myself liable for any adverse side-effects.”

A...what potion?

“Uh, just so you know,” I spoke with an uncomfortable amount of hesitance, “I’ve got a boyfriend already.”

“That’s nice, though I never asked.”

How...how bold, I thought, before I realized that my thoughts were wrong, so changed course, no, what I should say is, “how rude.”

“It’s...it’s just that people don’t usually feed other people soup, don’t you think?” I tried to justify myself, something which I didn’t really need to do.

“It’s not soup, it’s a potion, and I wasn’t feeding you, I was just letting you have a taste. The rest of it’s mine. If you want a vial of it later, I will sell it to you.”

Is she seriously going to sell soup as if it’s a love potion?

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a short nap before my next class,” I announced. To my surprise, she had something to say which didn’t involve being a witch.

“I don’t mind. I have chronic fatigue, so I get it.”

It really did feel like I was beginning to learn more about her.

Demetria also used to feed me. It wasn’t a lovers thing, though. Heaven’s no. In fact, I found it kind of annoying sometimes.

I’d wake up past my alarm, running late for class, and she’d berate me for not getting to sleep at a better time. When I was ready to head out the door, she’d always stop me and go.

“Make sure you’re eating well! Here, take this apple! And I made you a PB&J!”

Reluctant, I would take the sandwich bag and apple, and scoff.

“Thanks, mom,” I rolled my eyes, then ran off to class.

Now, I would’ve given anything to have that again. Someone like that there to remind me to eat well, sleep well, keep me focused. Even if it could get annoying, or if there was some possibility of her doing those things for some selfish sense of superiority (maybe she found me pathetic), I still think I took all of those things for granted back then.

In some ways, I admired her desire to focus on studies and lack of interest in relationships. I remember once I stayed up late chatting with a friend over the phone.

“So I think everyone knows the History Professor is banging the English Professor but nobody wants to say anything because it’s none of our business, but it’s just so annoying how obvious it is,” my friend, Clytie, relayed to me.

“Yeah, it’s really not my business, either, and they’re both adults and as long as they’re being professional, why should I care?” I tried to be engaged with her topic, but it was of little interest to me, I’ll admit.

I felt a painful thud as my mattress jumped about an inch or two in the air. I knew what it was right away: Demetria kicked her leg up against the top bunk.

“Keep it down,” she rasped, “I’m trying to read about electric eels. You need your sleep, anyway.”

“Who was that?” Clytie asked.

I waved my hand away.

“That was just my roommate. I’m sure I told you about her before.”

Clytie gave off her little dolphin laugh.

“Maybe, but I don’t remember much unless it has to do with me, tee-hee.”

“To be honest, she can be kinda annoying,” I admitted to Clytie.

“If that’s what you think of me, then I guess I’ll stop making you breakfast and packing you lunches,” Demetria threatened.

“No! Don’t!” I pleaded. As embarrassing as it was, I really didn’t want her to stop.

“Ha ha, well, I’ll let you two have your little spat. Goodnight,” Clytie teased, then hung up.

I scowled, but I really should have been trying to sleep.

What? Did Clytie think it was a lovers’ quarrel? Because it’s nothing like that. I’m not even sure Demetria’s ever thought about romance. Well, now I’m a little bit curious.

“Hey Demetria. Romance?” I inquired.

“Not tonight, busy,” she replied.

“No, not with me!”

“Wait, what were you asking?” She was clueless. Lost in her studies once again.

“Never mind. I’m going to try to sleep,” I dismissed.

“Good, doing the right thing for once,” she commented, all smug, too.

There were times when I thought she had an interest in me, what with how attached she was and she acted all disapproving with any relationship I was in and how she was always telling me to eat more, eat better, sleep better, study. But a quick thought made me realize that it was just her acting like a mom. Sure, I scoffed and rolled my eyes, but that must have been what it was the whole time. I wasn’t even sure if she was aware of it, herself.

As it so happened, the longer I went at things, trying to finish up my education, the more I thought about Demetria. It felt odd, and I wish I didn’t have to. It would have been much better to have moved on and accepted that I probably wouldn’t ever see her again. But there had to be some reason why she lingered on in my mind, right? It couldn’t have been coincidence.

I might have grown desperate for any sort of sign, I’ll admit, but I started to wonder if maybe Hecate was Demetria, but in disguise? It made no sense, yes, but like a conspiracy theorist, I started to hold onto the slightest of connections:

Short

Blonde hair

Weird

I’ll admit, that wasn’t much to go off of and could have applied to a great number of people and there were certain things that should have tipped me off that it wasn’t her. For example, I once tried to get her to open up about herself just a little more. Aside from the witch comments, she seemed really reserved and guarded.

“Hey Hecate, what do you study, anyway?” I asked.

“Chemistry,” she replied, buried under the covers of her bed.

“Really? I would’ve thought culinary arts, since your sou...potions.”

“Witches are already born with the knowledge to make potions, silly. But chemistry is a magic I’ve yet to master.”

“I see. So you have no interest in fish? Marine biology?”

“No. I don’t like water. Ever seen Wizard of Oz?”

Okay, that just seemed silly, but as long as she still drank water, I wouldn’t argue.

“So no interest in fish, then?” I tried to press further.

“I’ve already got a frog, isn’t that enough?” She asked in a pleading voice.

It was possible that she didn’t have interest in marine biology. I remember before she left, she had express losing interest in her studies, something which surprised me, and should’ve been a sign that she had changed. So maybe it wasn’t a stretch to think that she had changed her name, or found a new field of study. But just to be sure…

“How old are you, Hecate?”

“In this current life, I’m 19, but I’ve been older in past lives. Are there any more questions, because I’m having brain trouble and need to recover.”

“Oh. Sorry, sorry. I just thought maybe…” No, I shouldn’t say anything more. It’s not right. If Hecate was telling the truth, then she couldn’t have been Demetria, as if Demetria was still alive and out there somewhere, she would have been 24.

“What?” She asked. I should have known better than to say those four words. I should have stopped at ‘sorry, sorry.’

“I just thought...uh…maybe we met before?” I tried to keep things vague.

“Hm. I don’t know. Memory’s not good right now. How old are you?”

“23,” I answered.

“Okay. Then probably not.”

Hecate scrunched up her face and turned away, and I couldn’t tell whether I had bothered her, or if it was part of her condition. That really made me wonder, too: how did she get to and from class? For the life of me, I’ve never seen her leave the dorm. At least I knew with Demetria that she’d attend all her classes, even if her mind was preoccupied with whatever book she held in her hand.

There were other things I wondered, too, like why she wore that cloak around all the time. Was she hiding something? If I were to see her without the cloak, would it reveal something about her? It didn’t seem like she’d take it off if I asked her, and that would have been an odd request anyway, but I couldn’t help but wonder.

Despite my best efforts to put my suspicion to rest, it all culminated in one night, midway through the first semester: I had come home late, as I had further questions for my professor after the afternoon class ended, then I was hungry, so I got something to eat out at the town. By the time I got back, it was already close to dusk. All that to say, I was wiped.

Of course, I should have expected some sort of wacky activity to take place, seeing as it often happened, and that night was no exception. When I opened the door, I saw her with a large sheet of construction paper and letters and numbers written all over. She sat, head down, slumped, and I wondered if she was in some sort of trance.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Oh. Hey. I had to draw my own spirit board because my mom doesn’t want me having an ouija board. She’s very superstitious even though she already knows that I’m a witch, so any demons I end up in contact with I can just make them my familiar, or kill them, as I’m more powerful than them. Anyway, I can communicate with the dead.”

“Really now?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical of the prospect.

“Yeah. Do you know anyone who died? I can talk to them,” she sounded elated at the idea, so much that I couldn’t help but indulge her.

“Well, I had a cat when I was little who died.”

“What was their name?”

“Zagreus,” I answered, though I had to think hard about that one. I wasn’t the one who named him and my parents never really explained their reasoning as to why or how they came up with that name.

“Humu, humu…” Hecate hummed, then started to lower her voice to a chant, “I call upon the spirit of Zagreus to use my body as a vessel as to communicate with Proserpina.”

A few seconds passed and she moved her hand around the paper, though rather than spelling out any words, she just went, “mew mew.”

Then she opened her eyes wide and looked up.

“That was all I was able to get out of him,” she explained, “I’ll be honest, most of the time I don’t know what cats are saying.”

Really, I didn’t know what else to expect.

“Zagreus is the son of Persephone, right?” Hecate asked.

I stood, stunned and unsure how to react.

“Probably. I don’t really know,” I replied. That was more something Demetria would have known. “How do you know that?”

She shrugged.

“Your cat told me.”

I wanted to call her out on how ridiculous that was, but before I could, I heard a knock at the door. I opened and in came three girls, all cheerful and laughing.

“Hey, nice to meet you! We’re Hecate’s friends,” one of them greeted, a girl in a striped T-shirt and beret and about my height. She looked like one of those people who would be hard to spot in a crowd.

“Yeah, nice to meet you,” I mumbled and was rather surprised to meet any friends of Hecate’s, let alone some who would come to see her.

“I hope she hasn’t given you too much trouble. I know she can be a handful sometimes,” another one of the girls mentioned, that one with short, blue hair, and braces.

“No, not really. We get along okay,” I replied, and I was still just a little speechless and, dare I say, a little nervous to boot. I really wasn’t expecting guests.

The third girl, one with red hair and two pigtails went up to Hecate. She wore glasses and looked rather thin and frail and seemed about as tall as Hecate. Much of her resembled Demetria, but her face seemed just a little too round and was just a little too pale to have been her.

“Here’s the notes I took for your class today,” she handed Hecate a sheet of paper and I watched as Hecate took it.

“What’s that for?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I have trouble getting to my classes sometimes, so I often ask one of my friends to take notes for me. I always make sure to take classes that don’t grade based on attendance so it’s easier for me,” Hecate explained.

Oh. Because of the fatigue...jeez, I never realized.

“Here’s this, too,” the blue haired one handed Hecate a book. It could have been a textbook and innocent enough, but when I saw the title, my eyes lit up and my mind went into overdrive.

‘Bluefin Tuna and Other Creatures of the Deep’.

“No...no way…” I muttered.

“What? What’s wrong?” One of the other girls asked, but I didn’t take note of which one, because I was caught up in such a frenzy. In that moment, I was so sure that I was right.

“I knew it! You are Demetria! How long were you going to keep it from me? Huh?” I shouted. Everyone around me looked confused, but I was so sure.

“What are you talking about?” Hecate asked, but I didn’t want to play anymore games. I reached down and grabbed for her cloak.

“Hey! Leave me alone!” Hecate cried out as she squired. I pulled the hood down and sure enough, I saw: blonde twintails.

“Ha! You even have the same hairstyle as her! There’s no way it’s not you!”

Hecate grabbed for her hood and looked around in panic. She looked ready to break into tears.

“I’M NOT YOUR STUPID FRIEND!” She yelled, then pulled the hood back over her head.

She may not have always acted in a smart manner, but I refuse to let her be called stupid, I thought, and I balled my hand into a fist, ready to throw down.

“What’s wrong with you?” The striped shirt girl asked. “Are you a bully?”

I paused. I noticed my arm was pulled back and without even thinking I must have prepared myself.

“Yeah, what gives?” The blue haired girl joined in. “Those are her comfort clothes. Even if you wanted to see her with her hood down, you shouldn’t invade her personal space,” her arms crossed and she too looked cross.

“N-No...you guys don’t understand...I’m not…” I stammered. I really was awful, wasn’t I?

“C’mon, Maize, let’s go,” the blue and the striped girl left for the door, with the redhead in glasses left to follow after her.

After Maize left and slammed our door shut, I turned to Hecate, who had dived into the bottom bunk of the bed and buried herself there. I heard her sniffles and sobs.

Never mind that that’s my bunk for now, there was more important matters.

“Hey...I’m sorry,” I croaked out. Funny enough, her frog was nowhere to be found.

Not knowing what else to do, I sat on the edge of the bed and looked to my side.

“I know, that really wasn’t called for on my part. I jumped to conclusions, and to be honest, I’ve not been in a good headspace for a while. I shouldn’t have dragged you into that,” I sucked in my pride and admitted.

Hecate poked her head out from the covers and looked up at me.

“I’m sorry...too...for calling her stupid,” she muttered, her voice a weepy high.

“It’s okay,” I didn’t really find it okay, but I didn’t think she meant it out of malice, and it was just her retaliating against my actions.

“She must have meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “more than I thought she did. I miss her. A lot.”

“Did she die? Because if she did, you should have asked me to contact her instead of a cat. I have a much easier time talking to people than cats.”

I shook my head.

“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. But I’d rather not think so.”

“What happened, then?”

“Well...it’s kind of funny,” I started laughing and noticed I had shed a couple of tears as well. I wiped my face before continuing, “I used to share this dorm with her, and before she left, she had been acting kinda strange.”

“Strange how?”

“I had spent the spring living with my boyfriend,” I explained, “and when I got back to university, it was like she made a radical change. She had a bunch of lesbian romance comics, and she talked about Sailor Moon a lot, and she’d get obsessed with a ‘Remora’. She was always obsessed with fish, but the fact that it was that one in particular was strange.”

“Why was that?”

“Because it was, like, all she talked about. Hell, it reminded me of a conversation we had once when she was reading an encyclopedia of fish and started laughing at one entry, which happened to be about the remora fish. She’d go ‘look at that thing! It’s ridiculous! It looks someone stepped on it and the bottom of the shoe left an imprint! Definitely wouldn’t be in my top 10 of favorite fish.’ Just for fun, I indulged her and asked what her favorites were, and she’d go, ‘Hmm...swordfish, definitely, then sharks. Probably angler fish, too. Piranhas have to be pretty high up there, too.’ So when she started talking about them all the time...yeah, it seemed off to me.”

“So that’s why you asked if I was into marine biology?” Hecate asked, and yeah, she figured it out.

“Yeah. Then when I saw you take that book…”

“I gave Grape some cash and asked her to buy it for me because I thought you were into that, so I wanted to know what made it interesting,” she explained.

Oh. To think someone would think of me.

“No, I’m studying agriculture. But thanks for the thought.”

“So she left?” Hecate continued where we left off.

“Yeah, and I didn’t hear anything from her for a few months, and her mom was really worried too. I admit, I jumped to worst case scenario and assumed she had been kidnapped. When her mom and I received a text from her saying that she got a job studying fish in the arctic, her mom was relieved, but I still had my doubts. So I texted her and told her that if she was in danger, I’d come get her. I was surprised when she answered, and it was definitely in her style, too. She denied such claims of kidnapping, but I couldn’t help myself, I was worried. She then said, ‘at least I didn’t leave my education to go live with some guy’, and I was pretty pissed at that remark...then, nothing.”

“So you had a fight? That’s it? Then she’s probably still alive, she probably just doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Yeah...I guess that’s a possibility…” Not one I wanted to entertain, but sure, “to be fair, I didn’t try to follow up and check in on her, and I don’t really know if she ever blocked me or not because I never tried to contact her after that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I was hoping she’d say something first and then when she never did, I just forgot about it?”

“Well, in any case, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I think talking about it will help me move on easier. It’s hard because I used to have more friends, and now there’s no one. Sure, there’s my boyfr...actually, never mind, point is, I’d like to have a friend again.”

“Well...I can be your friend?” She perked up.

“Thanks. I’d like that,” I smiled.

So while it may have started as a bad evening, my night ended up being okay in the end. Since she already looked exhausted, I let Hecate sleep where she was at, and I climbed up to the top bunk. Somewhere in the room, her frog familiar croaked. Despite that, I imagined myself getting a restful sleep, and was hopeful that I could soon begin to concentrate more on my studies.

Things didn’t quite work out like that, though. Come graduation time and I was still short a few credits. All those months of trying to study, trying to focus, and most of my classes consisted of Cs and Ds.

No, it was pretty frustrating, actually. Like I sacrificed a good home, away from that shitty university, so I could focus and even then it was hard. But I persisted, I persisted and worked my butt off, and in spite of all that, I still couldn’t graduate on time. It was enough for me to throw in the towel, quit right then and there. I don’t really know why I didn’t.

So yes: come graduation day and there I was, not graduating. Nor would Hecate, but she was still fresh to the university life, so it made sense for her. Just hearing all those happy people cheering in the background pissed me off and I walked away from the campus and almost left the grounds, but chose instead to sit at a bench near the front of the campus. There, I stewed in my frustration.

To think I would get this far and still fall short. What’s even the point? How do I know that this is even what I still want to do? Such thoughts ran through my head and I did nothing to prevent them from running. Hell, they weren’t wrong, anyway, why should I stop when it’s the truth?

Behind me was a tall oak tree. Not very notable, I know. There was a bit of rustling in one of the limbs above me. Again, not at all notable.

“Those squirrels are probably fucking again,” I grumbled. Let’s ignore the fact that I said that out loud, yeah?

“No way. Could it be…?” I heard above me, a sort of incredulous, but quiet squeaky and high pitched voice. That was when I thought the same words.

No way. Could it be…?

I got up from the bench and took a few steps back, then looked up into the tree. While I couldn’t make out much, I could see, and quite distinct, too, someone laying on their back against the tree’s limb.

“Well, well,” they began, “hey Proserpina.”

“Demetria?” I asked, and gulped, afraid of being wrong.

She dragged her back along the limb, then sat up against the base of the tree. Indeed, it was her, and her hair wasn’t green like it had been the last time I saw her, but blonde again.

It really was her. My Demetria.

“Are you really here? I mean, is it really you? Are you alive?” Please don’t tell me I’m imagining this whole thing.

“Damn, don’t give me an existential crisis,” she replied, then turned her head and smiled. With one hand, she waved, but with the other, she tossed what looked to be a knife up into the air and caught it. Even though it was no doubt her, a part of me questioned who this ‘Demetria’ was, “but yeah. It’s me. Never thought I’d see you again, either.”

“But...why? Why are you here?” I demanded this time.

She continued tossing and catching the knife. In both hands were a pair of fingerless gloves. Her outfit was much different than the type of garb she wore when used to know her: her shirt was a black long sleeve, and it looked rather thin and form fitting. As if to match, she also had a black pair of short shorts, and they seemed to be nylon or spandex. In any case, it showed off her muscular legs, something which I never thought I’d see, considering she always looked kinda scrawny.

“I decided to finish what I started, so I took online classes. I just stopped by because to get my degree and didn’t expect to run into you. I thought you would have graduated by now.”

That really got to me, though I tried not to let it show.

“I took a bit of a break,” I told her. It wasn’t really a lie, “but yeah, I finished up too. I just took classes in person because online classes weren’t really working for me.”

What a fool I was for letting that slip. But to my credit, she didn’t notice.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I really had to force myself to finish, and the worst part is, I stopped being interested in marine biology ages ago.”

How? How were you able to do it? How could you just force yourself, for something you weren’t interested in, no less, and you still came out on top? How? How does that work?

“I guess I get what she meant now,” it seemed like she was talking to herself rather than telling me anything, “having something be important without really caring about it.”

I really can’t say I understand.

“What happened with you, anyway?” That must have been the most pressing question. Hell, it should have been the FIRST question I asked.

“Aah,” she let out a sigh, “yeah, I guess I should come clean with that, huh? It sucks, but you deserve the truth, don’t you?”

“Well...I don’t know about deserve! But I’d like to know!” I cupped my hands and yelled to her.

“Yeah. Well, I’m sure you could guess, but: I lied to you.”

My heart skipped a beat, but pride took over.

“I knew it! You WERE kid –” She stopped me before I could finish.

“No. Maybe it would have been better if I was, because at least then it would have been far more understandable why I left. But no, the truth is, I developed a crush on a girl one day while you were away. So there, you were right: I’m gay. But I acted all wrong and my head was a mess. I was obsessed and you could have called me a stalker, if you wanted, because even though I had no idea where to find her, I wanted nothing more than to see her again and be with her.”

All that over a crush? Somehow I think the ‘got a job in the arctic’ angle was more believable...now that I think about it, she probably said that because of how more believable it was.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I saw her again one day, and decided to follow, you know, like a creep, and before I knew it, I was in the arctic. In order to stay there, I took a job at a local diner and lived there. Yes, not as dignified as a researcher.”

“Wait, so you weren’t lying about working in the arctic?” I stood, incredulous about what she told me.

“Yeah? Why’s that the thing you’re hung up about? What about the part where I stalked a poor woman? Isn’t that terrible?”

“Now that you mention it...that does seem out of character for you…” I gave it a good thought. Well, even the way I saw her now seemed out of character for her. It was hard to believe she’d change at all.

“Yeah, it surprised me too. It still does. I don’t really think I can justify that, to be honest.”

“So what happened then?”

“Well, I worked as a waitress to a near-empty diner. I got to know the diner owner and his wife, and this kid who lived there even started to grow on me a bit, despite not getting along with her at first.”

“What about the crush? What drew you to her?”

“I was getting to that. She seemed strong, confident, like she had things figured out and knew what she was doing. And she was blunt, like she just said whatever seemed to be on her mind. I admired her, or who I thought she was, but then, I think I admired those things because I wanted to be like that. Once I came to such a realization, I figured those silly feelings would fade and I’d move on and that thought scared me because I had already come so far, and it would have felt like a waste just to stop then. It was just like with marine biology. That shit was my life, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore, and the thing was, it was like all I knew: I never allowed myself the chance to live.”

“That’s not how you seemed to me,” I was almost choked up to say, “yeah, you were dedicated to your studies, but to me it just seemed like you knew what you wanted. I kind of admired that.”

She laughed.

“Ha. I didn’t know what I wanted, it was just what I thought I wanted because I studied it for so long. I’m still not sure if I’m on the right track, or if I’ll ever be.”

“So did your feelings fade as you feared?” Part of me hoped so, as hurtful as it may have been.

“Sorta. The crush, yeah. Even before it did, I tried to do my best to ease up. I mean, I may not have known how to act, but I knew I should have done better, so I tried to make an effort. But you know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“As those feelings faded, as I seemed to have gotten better, well, her and I got closer. Or it seemed like we did. Turns out I was still just a little bit misguided. The last thing she told me was that she could never bring herself to care about me, and that’s when I realized how stupid I had been. I mean, I worried my mom, I worried you, I threw my life away, and for what? Because I wanted someone to care about me?”

Another hurtful thing she probably didn’t think she said.

“I cared about you,” I rushed to my own defense.

“Yeah, and so did my mom. Well, I guess it was bad, because I didn’t really think either of you did. I thought I had to lie so as not to disappoint my mom, and on the inside, I felt like a disappointment to both her and myself. With you, well, I guess I just never noticed, because I never really thought I mattered that much to you.”

“That’s not true,” I shook my head, “maybe I should have been more clear. To be honest, I thought you had a crush on me because of how attached you were. That’s why I suspected you were gay.”

“No, I never had a crush on you,” she stated, “I was so attached because I never really had a friend before you and I didn’t want to lose you. When you got with that Hades guy and started to spend so much time with him, I figured I was starting to lose you, and the worst part is, you seemed so happy to be in a relationship. Maybe part of that’s why I wanted to be in one myself, so I could see what all the fuss was about. I’m not sure.”

“Aw, Demetria. Romance was my thing, sure, but that doesn’t mean it had to be yours.”

“Eh. I guess. I’m not saying that’s what it was, but it could be what it was, y’know? Say, what about you? To be honest, I never liked that Hades guy, but are you still with him?” She probed. I wasn’t expecting her to ask anything about me.

I can’t tell her the truth. She expects me to be doing well. I mean, technically I am still with him, so would it even be a lie to say that I am?

“You know you can be a real asshole sometimes, right?” I deflected.

“Yeah, but I make it look cool,” she stopped tossing her knife to give me finger guns.

“No. You’re just a dork,” I denied, “but yes. We’re still together. In fact, I give him the strap.”

“The strap? What is that? Like, an accessory?��

“Uh...yeah, kinda,” I just about blushed. I really didn’t mean to say something like that.

“Would you like another one? I’ve got some money, I could probably get you one for your birthday. Hold on,” she pulled out her phone and I saw her type and mouth out the words, “give...her...the...strap.”

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?!” I shouted, but it was too late. She must have already seen something, as she fumbled and tossed her phone in shock, then she fell down from the tree, along with her knife.

“Demetria!” I cried out, but she raised a thumb up in the air, and with her other hand, she caught the falling knife.

“I’m okay…” She groaned, then added, “I see I still have more to learn.”

She stood up and brushed herself off.

“Well, good for you. I may not like the guy, but...I don’t really know him, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you,” she concluded.

“Thanks,” I replied, though I felt a tinge of melancholy.

She shrugged it off.

“So yeah. That’s me: I’m gay and something of a disaster. I’m also single so I guess you can say  I’m ‘on the market’ and I can always find someone else, and if the opportunity arises, I’ll know to act better.”

Her smile persisted, but I noticed tears forming her eyes.

“But also, I don’t want anyone else. Try as I might to deny it, but I still have feelings for her, and I still think of her, but the thing is, I don’t even think I’d want to see her again. She’s fine, and maybe I’m fine, but I just don’t want to devote my time to someone who won’t care about me. It hurts too much for me to do that,” she shook her head and the tears came harder and she wiped her face.

“Sorry, it’s not so dignified of me...but I’ve never been one to do things with dignity,” she laughed, though was choked up with tears. “But you know what’s the worst part? I also care about that family in the arctic. I want to see them again, I want to tell them how much I’ve grown, if I’ve even grown at all. So I’ve resolved to do just that: I’m going to go back there, for them, and for myself, and I may not look the same way that they remember me, but I hope they still accept me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I wanted to give her a hug, but I wasn’t even sure if she’d want that, “I hope things work out. Just know that now that I’ve seen you once, I’m going to want to see you again.”

She nodded.

“It may be a while before I can do that, but I’d like that as well. Is it fair to assume that we’re friends?”

That time, I started to cry and I reached out to hug her.

“Of course!” I wailed. She reached out and wrapped her arms around me and it was so tight that I was worried she’d squeeze the lights out of me.

“Jeez, when did you get so strong?” I wheezed.

“I’m not as strong as I look, trust me,” she replied.

“It doesn’t seem that way,” I rebutted. “It’s like you’ve changed so much, in so many ways.”

“Maybe you’re right, but it’s just like you said, I’m still a dork,” she chuckled, then let go, “anyway, I think I should take off. Got big plans and all. I hope we can talk again, though!” She began to run off and I called after her.

“Stay safe out there!”

“No promises, but I’ll do my best!” She called back. Before long, she had disappeared out of sight.

After she left, despite what an emotional wreck I was, at the same time I felt just a little more hopeful about the future. That no matter how difficult, I may figure something out as well. Or at least, I could hope. In any case, I knew I had a story to tell Hecate once I got back up to my dorm.

[of-fishnets-and-black-lace]

True Love is a Lie pt. II

Request: Can I please have a part two to “True Love is a Lie”? The first one was so good! Can I have it where it’s been a couple of months and you’re dating Sam and Lucifer comes and asks you to take a walk through the woods while Sam and Dean follow behind, just in case, and you tell him that you’re pregnant with Sam’s child and can you name the child Diana from Wonder Woman and also include the young Diana Prince?

Read Part 1 here!

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy, fluff, cursing, terrible writing, idk what else since it has been too long since I’ve read this, the format got messed up when i posted this from my google docs

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Past Lucifer x Reader

A/N: I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. Shit has been so crazy the past few months/years but I’ve got my mojo back! It has been so long since I’ve done anything but I am hoping that with this pandemic I can finally post and write all the requests I have been getting, sequels to my other stories, as well as new stuff I’ve been working on. I am still not taking any requests until I have finished those in my inbox. I love you all and I am so happy to be writing again!

A year went by since your last heartwrenching encounter with Lucifer.  You nearly forgot about it because of your new life with Sam.  Sam always made sure to be attentive and by your side at a moment’s notice.  He made you trust in people again after your confrontation with Lucifer.  He knew after that experience you’d be broken, so he made sure to be there to mend the pieces.   

You did not want to dwell in the past and think yourself into a  depressive mood, especially with the Winchester boys and your new best friend, Jack, gone on a hunt.  You would’ve went with them had you not felt so nauseous and tired.  It was a typical salt-n-burn so you weren’t exactly missing out on anything important.  Nevertheless, Sam hated leaving you, especially with Lucifer still out there, but you were safe. 

Just as the thought of the moose enters your mind, your phone buzzes.

Sam: Hey baby girl, we’re on our way back.  Need anything?

You: Just some warm cuddles from my moose. 

You: Actually, I need oranges like right now. Not joking, I feel like I’ll die without oranges.

Sam: Is everything ok? You’ve never asked for oranges and I’ve never even seen you eat oranges since I’ve known you.

You: Yeah I’m fine, just a bit nauseous.  Also I’ve just been having a weird craving for oranges for some reason.  Oh well.

Sam: Hmm, I’m no doctor but maybe you should get checked out.  I worry about you, honey.

You: I know sweetie, but the doctor is expensive. It’s probably just the stomach flu or something.  Btw, how much longer?

Sam: Probably an hour, give or take 15 minutes.

You: Ok, Love you! See you soon!

Sam: Love you too! Can’t wait!

“Ok, so I have about an hour or so to check and see if my suspicions are correct.” You say aloud to yourself.

“What suspicions?” Cas suddenly appears out of nowhere, scaring you half to death.

“What the hell Cas?!” You all but screamed.

“Sorry, I thought you were praying to me.” Cas was never any good at lying to you.

“Umm, no I wasn’t just tell me why are you here?”

“I heard something on angel radio, and I needed to know if it is true.” He places a hand on your stomach.  “So it is true.”

“What? What is wrong with me?”

“(Y/N), your suspicions are right.  You’re six weeks pregnant.”

“How is that possible? Sam and I were so careful! What will he think or say? No, I can’t tell him. Not yet.”

With Sam and Dean still not home, you made Cas get a pregnancy test.  You trusted the angel’s words, but you needed concrete evidence.  You made Cas leave for a few days; you knew for sure that Cas wouldn’t be able to keep the secret.  The plus sign emerged with seconds to spare as Sam’s heavy footsteps could be heard approaching your shared room.

“(Y/N) I’m home!” Sam yelled as he collapsed onto the bed. You run out from the bathroom, pounce on him, and kiss all over his face.

“I missed you, Moose.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.  I got the oranges you asked for.” 

“Thank you, baby…” You said as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Sam, have you ever thought about having kids?”

“Well yeah of course but… Isn’t it a little dangerous given our profession?”

“Yeah that’s true, but we’ve got out once, we can do it again.  Besides, I know I am safe when I’m with you and when I’m here in the bunker.”

“Enough with the chit chat, we have company.” Dean interrupts 

You and Sam follow Dean to the lighted table, sitting there was God himself, dressed oh so casually and a look of nervousness graced his face.  He twiddled his thumbs and a small smile made its way to his features as his eyes locked with yours.  

“Uh hehe, hey (Y/N), Sam, Dean, Jack.”

“What’s up, Chuck?” You said, holding onto Sam.

“Um, Lucifer asked me to tell you that he’s outside and would like to speak with you.” You grabbed onto Sam a little tighter.  

“I’ll talk to him, but I want Sam and Dean to stay close to me.  Jack should stay behind since it’s his father.”  

“He knows, he said that they could.”

You make your way outside and there he is, dressed in a nice suit and tie with a bouquet of (f/c) (f/f) in his right hand, but one thing was different: you couldn’t see his wings.  Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, but Sam gave a reassuring squeeze to your hand.  You began walking toward Lucifer, Sam and Dean close behind.  Lucifer handed you the bouquet of flowers and gave a quick peck to your knuckles.  This apparently didn’t sit well with Sam as he cleared his throat with anger. 

“Will you join me for a walk through the woods, (Y/N)?” Lucifer asked and you look to Sam and Dean. “Don’t worry, they can follow behind.”  

You all walk to the edge of the woods in silence, your heart beat faster with every step closer to the treeline.  Through your peripheral vision, you could see Sam clench and unclench his jaw.  He was just as nervous as you were, if not more so.  You and Lucifer finally enter the woods. Sam and Dean follow a minute behind to give you some form of privacy, while still able to barely make out your conversations.  

“First of all, I want to say I’m so sorry for what I did to you.  I should have asked for your permission and talked it through with you.” Lucifer says, breaking the silence.  

“It’s alright I guess. I did some research and I now understand that I would not have survived through labour.  However, that does not justify your actions, what you did really hurt me.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry.  I never meant to hurt my soulmate.”

“Soulmate?”

“Yes, you were my soulmate.  That’s why you were able to see my wings.”

“Then why can’t I see them now?”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about.”  There was a pained expression on his face, you’ve never seen the devil quite like this before.  “I had God make Sam your soulmate after what I had done to you.”

“This isn’t like you Lucifer, why would you do this?”

“I have to prove to you that I will always love you and do what’s best for you, even if it meant letting you go.” He sighed and placed a hand on your stomach. You could hear Dean hold Sam back as he spewed threats if Lucifer were to harm you.  

“Hurt the baby and I will not hesitate to pluck every feather from your wings.”

“I swear on my Father that I will protect yours and Sam’s child. It’s the least I could do to make up for everything.” He said as he kisses your forehead. “Name her Diana.” With that he disappears.

Sam finally breaks away from his brother and runs straight to you. He sees you place a hand protectively over your stomach and smile to it.The words of Lucifer finally make sense to him as he asks “You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head and smile, afraid to say anything.

“I am going to be a father!” Sam shouted with excitement as he picks you up and spins you around.  Tears of joy threaten to spill from both you and Sam as you lock eyes.  As he goes in for a kiss, you both are interrupted by Dean, yelling incoherently and excitedly about him being an uncle. You and Sam look at each other and giggle. It’s not a perfect family, but you can’t live without them.

Time Skip to Wedding Day (3 years later)

You look at your engagement ring then to your flower girl, Diana Prince Winchester, waddling down the aisle leaving flower petals in her wake.  She looked so adorable in her little white dress and you couldn’t help but to tear up.  The audience gasp and awe as they watch your daughter.

The wedding was surprisingly large for a pair of hunters.  Hordes of hunters (friends and some you’ve never seen before), the Winchesters’ monster “friends”, a few angels, and some family came from all over to see you two get married.  With God sponsoring your wedding, you expected something extravagant like a wedding at the Vatican. However, this was not the case.  The ceremony was held in a beautiful meadow that somehow matched your (f/c) wedding theme. The icing on top of the cake was Chuck himself officiating the wedding.  

The wedding march began and Gabriel walks you down the aisle.  Sam couldn't help but let a few tears slip as he watches his two beautiful girls in white.  Dean, the best man, elbows him slightly but he too couldn't help the tears.  Cas, Lucifer, and Jack all smile at you and then to Sam.  They know you two are perfect for each other.  You weren't phased by Sam asking Lucifer to be a groomsman. Besides, it was your idea to have him as Diana's godfather.  You finally reach the altar, and neither of you seem to care about the sniffling and hiccuping. You were finally marrying each other so let the waterworks happen. 

You were hardly paying attention until you hear Chuck say it's time to share your vows.  Sam clears his throat and begins: 

“Y/N, I've known you for as long as I can remember.  We've been fighting side by side since we were little and our dads would go on hunting trips together.  I would always tell myself, that one way or another I will marry this girl and protect her from any and every monsters.  You may have not been my soulmate then, but you are my soulmate now. And as your soulmate, I'm never letting you go.” There was a slight pause and an awkward cough from Lucifer. “I will love you until the end of time.” 

He slips the ring on your finger as you begin:  “I’d never thought I would be standing here with the infamous Sam Winchester, yet here I am with a ring on my finger.  You were my first best friend and my first crush and my first protector.  you’ve saved me from being broken in more ways than one, and for that I owe you my life.  While it is true we were not soulmates before, we are soulmates now and that’s all that matters.  I will love you forever until the end of time.” 

After the expression of the “I Dos,” you hear the words you’ve been dying to hear since you made it to the altar: “You may kiss the bride.” Sam grabs you by the waste and pulls you to him.  With the passion of a thousand suns, he kisses you and everything melts away.  It was just like the first time you two kissed.  

In the back of your mind, you could hear Lucifer whisper “I will always love you” but that didn’t matter to you anymore. You are Sam’s and he is yours.  Nothing will change that.

[ceterisparibus116]

Also on murdocklovespage’s post about you wanting prompts, they mentioned “What if Matt, Claire, and Stick were in a room together?” as a prompt and I want to see it

This is soooo late (I apologize) but I hope you like it!

Matt was trying—trying so hard and in so many ways. And thistime, it actually seemed like it was working.

Nelson and Murdock weren’t back together, no. Elektra wasstill gone, yes. And Karen? She said she needed time. And space. But Foggyseemed to have forgiving him, or to be on his way there. Part of it probablyhad to do with no longer having the pressure of maintaining a business togetheron top of the pressure of maintaining their friendship. Most of it probably hadto do with Matt’s sincere and detailed apology, not given in the heat of anargument or as a desperate bid to fix things between them but just because Mattwas really, truly sorry. So at least Matt had Foggy again, even if not in quitethe same way as he was used to.

And he had his own small law practice where he didn’t have anyoneelse lecturing him on the merits of accepting homemade bread in lieu ofpayment. Or on the ethics of some extralegal problem solving. Mostly, heoffered a lot of unbundled services, which basically involved stepping in atdifferent points of the legal process. He helped one client file paperwork,showed up at court for another client who was worried about talking in front ofa judge. Unbundled services were a cheaper route for the clients who had some moneybut not enough to actually retain him. Meanwhile, he enjoyed getting to help whereverhe was needed most.

And Stick had completely disappeared.

So it was good, really. Things were good. Slowly but surely,he was rebuilding. And honestly? It was nice. He’d so thoroughly trashed hislife both professionally and relationally that appreciating all the littleblessings of a relatively normal life was as easy as breathing.

Easier than, actually, since his two cracked ribs currentlymade breathing…difficult.

But that was fine. Much less immediately worrying than theblood spilling from his arm over the tear in his suit. Matt couldn’t faultMelvin for it. The suit did a good job against knives, usually, but Matt’s ownbody weight was responsible for driving the broken glass into his arm after hejumped out of the window. Generally, Matt was pretty good at jumping out ofwindows. But he’d sort of gotten hit on the head immediately before his self-imposeddefenestration, which messed with his balance as he fell.

He was fine.

He was also, however, incapable of stitching his arm up onhis own, so he tugged his burner phone out of his pocket. He’d been trying notto call Claire, trying to give her space. But this was…this was a lot of blood,showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“Matt?” Her voice was sharp on the other end of the phone. “What’swrong?”

“Nothing, I just wondered if you were free.”

“Depends on how close you are to dying.”

He hated that she still saw herself first and foremost ashis healer. Nothing more. Then again, he pretty much shut her down every time sheattempted to offer anything more intimate than pure medical advice, so maybethat was on him. “Does bleeding out count as dying?”

She groaned into the phone. “Matt, get over here.”

“Thank you, Claire.” He began the trek back to her place,wincing at the throb in his skull. Concussion? Possibly? Probably?

Maneuvering himself onto her fire escape felt surreal,brought him back to a simple black suit and simpler times. He couldn’t bring himselfto long for the past, though. Back then, she hadn’t even known his name. Hehated that it’d taken her getting beaten by Russians for him to risk revealing himselfto her, which didn’t seem so different from how he hadn’t been able to tellKaren about Daredevil until after he’d ruined their relationship. It was a patternof his. One he wasn’t planning on repeating.

Through her window, he smelled spices from whatever she wascooking. For a moment, he just listened to her light footsteps as she moved aroundthe kitchen, audible under the pleasantly unobtrusive voice of a podcast. Buthe didn’t have much time to waste. He tapped on the window.

The podcast shut off and her footsteps approached. She slidthe window open and hissed in a breath. “You weren’t kidding about bleedingout.”

“S’not that bad.” He rolled his shoulder experimentally asif he could draw her attention to one of the few parts of his body that wasn’t injured. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, idiot.” She stepped aside, gave him room to slitherthrough the window. As soon as his feet landed, she put one hand on his goodarm and the other on his hip, steering him towards her couch so he could sit. “How’dthis happen?”

He wondered, not for the first time, if she was asking becausehis answer might inform his treatment or because she just wanted to know. Hetook off his helmet and she ran a hand through his hair like she couldn’t help smoothingit back into order. “Fell out a window.”

“Have you considered not doing that, maybe?”

“It was an emergency.”

Snorting, she gingerly felt along his arm. “So you alsolanded on the window, I assume.” She reached for her medical bag, which wassetting on the couch beside him even though it smelled of the closet. She’d hadto get it out for him. Or, depending on how you looked at it, she’d gotten itout just for him. “If you fell out a window, does that mean the bad guys arestill out there?”

His stomach tightened with the sense that he’d somehow lether down. “Yeah. They weren’t my priority.”

“Since when are bad guys not your priority? Brace yourself, I’mpulling this out in three, two—”

She slid the glass out of his arm and he closed his eyesagainst a wave of dizziness as fresh blood soaked his sleeve. Then he squeezedhis eyes shut tighter at the burn of the antiseptic, his whole body clenchingdespite his best efforts to stay still. His ribs made their protest known.

“What were they doing, anyway?” She poked the needle throughhis skin. “The bad guys, I mean.”

He breathed slowly through his nose. “Human traffickers.”

The needle paused for an instant. “Oh. And you didn’t tearthem limb from limb because…?”

Would she have wanted that kind of violence? “Had to get thekids out first.“

“Kids?”

Not all of them. Two or three were in their early twenties. ButMatt was willing to bet they’d been caught in forced prostitution since highschool. Maybe even middle school. One of the girls he’d found was only eleven.

He didn’t share that particular detail with Claire. Wasn’tsure he’d share it with anyone. “Yeah.” He gritted his teeth as string draggedunder his skin. “Had to stay until I knew they were out.” But there’d been toomany men in that warehouse for him to fight off on his own when they were comingat him all at once like that. Hence jumping out a window. He was just too tiredto explain that reasoning to Claire.

But she was no longer pushing him to justify himself. “Itmight be ironic to say this while I’m sopping up your blood, but I’m glad youwere there. For the kids.”

“I’ll go back later. Find the men responsible. See if I canget enough evidence for…” He shook his head, trailing off, distracted by the awarenessof just how difficult building a case against them would be. The victims werelong gone, and proving a sex crime beyond a reasonable doubt without a victim onthe stand was almost impossible.

He rubbed at his eyes. Not that he wanted any of the peoplehe’d rescued to have to go through the trauma of taking the stand. But thethought of their traffickers getting off on, what, kidnapping charges? It was enoughto make him wish, just for an instant, that he could operate a bit more likeFrank Castle.

No. He’dconsidered that route before, with Fisk. It wasn’t right.

“Matt?” Claire prompted.

“Huh?”

“You spaced out. I asked if there’s anything else I shouldknow about, since I’ve got you here.” She was running her hand up his arm,checking for breaks or something.

“No, that’s…that’s the worst of it.” He flexed the newlystitched-up arm. “Thank you.” Then he started to push himself to his feet.

She stood up at the same time. “You’re leaving?”

His smile probably looked a little too sad. “I didn’t meanto interrupt your night.”

“Well, you did,” she said simply, “so you may as well do itall the way. You want dinner?”

His mouth watered. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Hmm. I think you should eat.” She leaned closer and put herhand on his stomach.

He flinched automatically, his good arm twitching up toshield his ribs.

“I knew it,” shesaid.

“Knew what?” he asked helplessly.

“You were moving way too stiffly for only a stab wound. Sitdown.”

“You’re that familiar with how I move?” He returned slowly tohis seat, not quite able to feel reluctant about it.

“Too stiff and too sluggish at the same time. I have apretty good guess what else is wrong with you, but I’ll leave you to be honestwith me on your own.” She retrieved the binding from her bag. “How bad arethey?”

“Uh…”

“Breath out for me.”

Matt exhaled obediently and couldn’t help enjoying thefeeling of her hands on him, encircling his body with the wrapping above andbelow the injury. “The, uh—”

She shushed him, then tied off the wrapping. “Okay. Nowspeak.”

“The other thing might be a concussion. I think? Somethinghit me when I was leaving.”

“And by ‘leave’ you mean ‘throw yourself bodily out of a window,’right?”

He grinned. “If you wanna get technical about it.”

There was a clickas she turned on a light. “Lemme see your eyes.” Slipping her hand under hischin, she tilted his head the way she wanted it. “Yep, you look pretty messedup. How do you feel? Nauseated?”

He shook his head.

“Good. So you have no excuse not to let me feed you.”

“Claire, I—”

“Shh.” Her hand was still on his jaw. “Let me take care ofyou.”

Why was she being so kind to him? It wasn’t like he’dtreated her well recently. Ignoring all the help she offered, turning herhospital into a war zone, getting her friend killed. “Claire, I—”

“If you’re about to say you’re fine, I don’t wanna hear it.” She packed away her bag and headedinto the kitchen.

Getting unsteadily to his feet, he followed at a safedistance. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“That’s a first,” she said, but there was no bite to hertone as she stirred the soup on her stove.

“I’m sorry I kept pushing you away. It wasn’t fair after allyou’ve done for me.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “If it helps, I hatedevery second of it.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

He wet his lips. “You were right, by the way. About me…becomingtoo much like the people I fight. I lost perspective.” He remembered bloodyfists and the snap of his wirecutting through Nobu’s neck.

“You don’t need to apologize to me for that.”

“But I want to.” He breathed in carefully, mindful of thetight binding around his ribs. “I should’ve listened. You deserved myattention. My trust. You deserved a…a conversation,at least.”

She didn’t say anything as she placed a bowl of soup infront of him.

“I shouldn’t have shut you out,” he finished quietly.

She still didn’t say anything for several long moments. Thenshe nodded once. “Thank you. Look, Matt, you’re your own person. It wasn’t myjob to…” She tipped her head back like she might find the words she was lookingfor on the ceiling. “Fix you, or something. So I’m sorry too.”

“Don’t be. Everything you said, I needed to hear it.”

“I’m just saying, maybe I should’ve been more patient. It wasjust hard for me, because…” She sighed. “I care about you, maybe too much.”

His stomach flipped at the present tense. “You weren’t theonly one fed up with me.”

“Right. And how is Foggy?” she asked carefully.

Of course. She knew Foggy. Weird that Claire, so firmlyassociated with his vigilante life, had mixed with Foggy, so firmly associatedwith the law, and he hadn’t even been there. “He’s good. Really good. Workingat a fancy law firm.”

“You don’t sound upset about that.”

“I’m not,” he said honestly. “It’s not the kind of lifestyleI’d want, but Foggy’s happy. And he still has a soul.”

Collecting her own bowl, she sat beside him. “How do youknow?”

He frowned, a bit confused why she was so interested in updatesabout Foggy. “We meet up. Talk about cases.”

“Did you ever apologize for not visiting him in the hospital?”she asked bluntly.

He felt himself flush. “Yeah.”

She waited a moment. “Good.”

What was that, some kind of test? If it was…he was prettysure he passed.

“What about you?” he asked tentatively. “How are…things?”

“Things,” she repeated, obviously unimpressed.

“I mean—” He broke off.

“Matt?”

“Shh,” he whispered.

“What?” she demanded, ever contrary.

“Someone’s coming.” He’d know that heartbeat anywhere. Hegot up from the stool, stood stiffly in the center of the room. “No, no, notnow.”

“Am I supposed to know why you’re freaking out?”

His hands curled into fists. “I’m so sorry, Claire. I’m so,so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t realize he was following me.” Hadn’t even realizedStick was back in Hell’s Kitchen.

“How bad is it?” Claire sounded scared, but also like shewas trying not to be.”

He didn’t want to frighten her, but… “I don’t know,” he admitted.“It’s, uh, someone from when I was a kid. It’s the guy who trained me.”

She let out a whistle. “So, like, a superhero?”

“Ha,” Matt laughed grimly. “Stick’s not a superhero.” Hemoved to her front door. “He’s on the stairs.”

“But he’s a good guy, right?” She followed him, nervous butstill trying not to show it. “Right? Matt?”

“Not really,” he said heavily, resting his forehead againsther door. He couldn’t fight Stick like this, which…which…he shouldn’t have to,but Stick also shouldn’t be here atall.

His cane tapped along the stairs just outside her apartment.

Matt swore under his breath. “I’m gonna go take care ofthis.”

“Wait!” Claire grabbed his arm. It was his good arm, but hestill sucked in a breath as his ribs objected. “What’re you gonna do, pickanother fight?”

“If I have to.” He unlocked the door.

She slammed her shoulder against the door, shutting itfirmly. “Your mask’s on the floor.”

Right. Someone could see him. And now Stick was rightoutside. Planting his feet, Mat leaned against the door. “Stay back,” hewhispered.

Stick’s voice floated through. “Lemme in, Matty.”

It was enough to bring Matt back to a cemetery, standingover the grave of the woman he loved with the man who’d manipulated her intobecoming a weapon. Like he’d manipulated Matt.

“Matty,” Stick called.

“No está aquí,” Claire called back.

Matt sighed and wrenched the door open. “He can smell me.”

Stick wasted no time before strolling through, dropping hiscane by the counter. His left wrist was swollen. Sprained, maybe? “Anyone couldsmell you, Matty. Left a trail of blood thicker than a river. Might as wellhand out invites with her address on ’em.” He turned to flash Claire adangerous smile. “Nice to finally hear your heartbeat.”

That precious heartbeat sped up. “Excuse me?”

“Just that I’ve smelled you often enough, hanging out atMatty’s place.” He made a show of sniffing the air. “You’re a nurse. Or something. That explains somethings. Like why he’s still alive.” He slowly tilted his head. “And why you’realive too, I guess.”

“Is that a threat?” Claire asked in a low voice.

“No,” Matt said quickly. “He just has this stupid beliefthat anyone in my life will end up dead because of me.” Well, Matt wasn’tconvinced that it was actually such a stupid belief. But he told himself it wasstupid whenever it started echoing in Stick’s voice. He kept himself between them.“So you found me, Stick. Congratulations. What do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want, Matty. It’s about what youneed.”

“No. I don’t need anything—I’m done.” He risked a stepcloser. “We fought off the Hand, we buried the Black Sky. We’re done.”

“The Black Sky,” Stick said softly, bringing up his hand torest on Matt’s shoulder, his ancient fingers tapping against the thick materialof Matt’s suit. “How’re you doing with all that?”

“Fine,” Matt gritted out.

Stick jerked his chin at Claire. “Did he tell you his girlfriend’sdead?”

Claire’s lips parted.

It was like the broken piece of window was stabbing Matt’sheart instead of his arm. “She wasn’t—she wasn’t my girlfriend, Stick.”

“Oh, right, that was the other one. The reporter. Smellslike she cut you lose. Smart girl.”

“Don’t talk about her,” Matt snapped. “I gave you a chanceto tell me what you’re doing here, now—”

“Now what?” Stick drawled. “You’ll throw me out? You can barelystand up.” He took a casual step forward, like he was aiming to wander over tothe couch.

Matt shifted in front of him. “Leave.”

“If I do, it’s the same as leaving you and your new girlieto a horrible death.”

Claire stiffened, but she remained outwardly calm. As forStick, his heart beat steadily, but just because Stick believed something didn’tmean he wasn’t also insane. “Then Iwill deal with it,” Matt growled.

“No, you won’t,” Stick said derisively. “I heard you in thatwarehouse. You could barely get the kids out, and you left those men to keepdoing the same thing the second you look the other way. You’re not dealing withshit.”

“He saved those lives,” Claire cut in suddenly.

“Claire,” Matt warned.

“He saved those kids’ lives,” she insisted, edging up behindhim. “What’s your name? Stick? If you were there, why didn’t you jump in tohelp?”

Stick craned his neck like he could see past Matt standingbetween them. “Those kids, those men, it was all just a distraction. That’swhat keeps happening—he gets all caught up in all the wrong things, and as soonas the enemy strikes, he’s useless.” He paused. “I take it back. You can beuseful. You’d just be better off if you weren’t tied down by all that pity youcarry for every whimpering thing that’ll just die anyway once the war comes.”

Half of Matt’s brain was stuck on one single sentence—you can be useful. The other half wasfurious that Stick was still here. “WhateverI do, whatever I feel, it’s my business.”

“Until your bleeding heart gets you killed and I loseanother soldier.”

Suddenly, Matt was yelling. “Like you lost Elektra?”

Stick raised his voice to match. “We both lost her, and itwouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t dragged her off to save—”

“You knew she was the Black Sky—you would’ve killed her! Youtold me you would’ve—” He cut himselfoff, took a deep breath. “Are you back in this city because of some specificthreat or not?”

“I’m back because it’s time for you to get your head out ofyour—”

“Okay, great, we’re done.” Matt walked forward, straightinto Stick.

Stick didn’t budge. “The Hand’s coming. Whatever they’ve gotplanned, it’s big.”

“If they’re not here yet, I don’t care.” He shoved Stick.Stick shoved back, and Matt sucked in a breath as pain arced across his ribs.

“Matt.” Claire’s voice unsettled.

Stick drew his sword.

“Matt,” Clairegasped.

“Listen to your girlfriend, Matty. We need to have a chat.”

“Not my girlfriend, Stick.” Another shove.

Stick raised the sword, but didn’t strike with it. “If theHand comes back, you’ll just get her killed by playing around with her.”

See, that was the thing. That kind of logic made sense backhe was keeping everyone else tucked away in safe little boxes, boxes reservedfor best friends and secretaries and the kind nurse he had a crush on. Didn’twork so well for law partners who yelled at gang members and reporters who befriendedthe Punisher and the nurse who agreed to use her hospital for the Hand’svictims.

Actually, he should’ve known that logic didn’t work withClaire as soon as she pulled a masked vigilante out of her dumpster.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Matt said quietly. “I’ll doeverything I can to keep her safe. But if—if—somethinghappens to her, it’ll be because she decided that helping people is worth therisk. I definitely won’t keep her safer by staying away.”

Stick shrugged. “And then you’ll kill yourself when you loseher, and then I’ll lose you.”

Matt tilted his head. “And that bothers you,” he murmured. “Itbothers you because you broke your own rules. With me.”

“You’re useful,” Stick argued.

“You’re broken.” Another shove. Stick was at the threshold. “Iappreciate all you’ve done for me, I really do, but I don’t need you anymore.”

“Maybe not, but you will.”

Matt wanted to say, Youknow where to find me. But he also didn’t want to give Stick the slightesthint of permission. Not that Stick ever cared about permission. It felt like asmall victory to keep silent and just give him a final shove out the door.

“Take care of yourself, Matty.” Then Stick spoke a littlelouder, voice aimed at Claire. “I’ll see you around!”

“You won’t.” Matt shut the door. Locked it. Listened asStick hovered just outside.

Claire approached from behind him. “Is he still there?”

Matt didn’t move from his position. “Yeah.”

“And he can still hear me?” When he rolled his eyes inaffirmative, she put her mouth by the door. “Go put some ice on your wrist! Itlooks sprained!”

Matt shot her a look of exasperation. “What’re you—”

She pressed her hand to his mouth and cocked her head. Thenshe made a smug sound as Stick’s footsteps retreated.

Matt waited until he was mostly sure Stick was out of rangebefore finally stepping away from the door. “What was that about?”

“Bossing you around with concern over minor injuries hasalways been a surefire way to scare you off.”

“So you admit that a sprain is minor.”

“I admit that youthink a sprain is minor. Figured he’d have the same mentality.”

Matt stifled a grimace. “Yeah. We’re, uh…we��re a lot alike.”

“Not really.” Turning around to face him, she folded herarms. “Is he always like that?”

“Vaguely ominous? Pretty much.”

“I mean, is he always going on about how helping people isn’tworth it? Or how you’ll get people killed by playing around with them?”

He cringed at the phrase. “Yeah. He started in on that stuffback when I was a kid, when he was—”

“When you were a kid?”The shock in her voice was practically palpable.

Right. She was the first person since Elektra to know bothsides of his life, making it easy, sometimes, to forget how little she stillknew about him. “Uh. Yeah. He trained me to control my senses.” He paused. “Andto fight.”

“And he was telling you not to feel pity all the way backthen?” Her voice was tight with anger.

He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t just make herangrier. “He wanted me to be a soldier.”

“Mierda,” shemuttered under her breath. “Explains a lot.”

What, exactly, did that explain? “It wasn’t that bad, Claire.In most ways, he saved my life. I could barely control my senses when my dadwas still alive. When I was in the orphanage, everything was too—”

“What orphanage?” Her voice was deadly calm.

Matt suddenly wished he was doing something. Eating, walking…evengetting stitched up would be preferable to just standing there, trying to fieldher questions. “St. Agnes.”

“I didn’t know,” she said softly.

“I didn’t tell you,” he countered, turning to shuffle backto his stool at her counter. Not that he was hungry anymore.

She followed, but didn’t sit. Instead, she stood close tohim, leaning against the counter across his legs. “Why didn’t he use his sword justnow?”

“Because he knows it would’ve killed me,” Matt said heavily.

“What?”

“It…it would’ve been a threat to you. So I wouldn’t havestopped fighting him.” Matt fidgeted with the material of his pants. “He didn’twant to lose me. Not before the war.”

“The war like…those ninjas who attacked the hospital?”

“Something like that.” He briefly closed his eyes. “If…ifthey come back, I’ll deal with it. I won’t drag you into it.”

She shook her head. “Like you told him, I’m here to helppeople.”

She was so…adjectives failed him. Matt swallowed. He’d toldStick she wasn’t his girlfriend. And she wasn’t.

But, oh, he wanted that. He still missed Elektra, and hestill missed Karen, but Claire…Claire was different. She wasn’t as destructiveas either of them and her moral compass was steadier than anything he’d everknown.

He still didn’t feel like he deserved her. Still didn’t wantto hurt her. But like everything else, that was her choice to make, not his. Andhe no longer believed the things Stick preached. So if he could bring her anyhappiness, any security, any…anything good, he’d do it. He cleared his throat. “Claire?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Can I…can I take you to dinner?”

She held completely still.

He was such an idiot. “I wasn’t—I mean—you can say no, Ijust thought—”

“I hope you’re not insulting my soup. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“It was delicious,” he said weakly.

“What is this, then? Payment for me taking care of you?”

All right, he could spell it out, if that was what shewanted. “A date, Claire. I’m…I’m asking you on a date.”

“Huh.” Her arms wrapped tighter around herself, but he heardher heartrate picking up. “You’re concussed. You sure even you know what you’resaying?”

“I’m sure,” he said immediately. “Very sure.”

“You’re not just sticking it to that old man?”

She wasn’t saying yes. But she wasn’t saying no. He movedcarefully closer, reached out, found her hand. “Claire,” he said softly. “I’vewanted this for a long time. And you were right, before, to say no. I wasn’t…I’mnot proud of who I was.” He hesitated. “In many ways, I’m not proud of who I am.But—”

“I am,” she interrupted. “I’m proud of you.”

That right there was more disorienting than the hit to thehead. “What?”

“I’m proud of you,” she said simply. “And I can’t…I can’tpromise you more than a date, not yet, but—”

His heart leapt and he felt dizzy for very new reasons.

“I like Middle Eastern food.”

He was already nodding. “I can do that.”

“I have Thursdays off.” Suddenly, she was speaking veryfast. “Usually. Unless they need me, but I usually get a heads up. I’ll callyou if I can’t make it.”

“This Thursday?”

“Can we?”

He grinned. “Yeah. This Thursday. I know a great place.”

“I’ll trust your judgement.”

She trusted him. “Claire.”He said it just to savor the fact that he could. Drawing closer, he brushed thetips of his fingers against her wrists, then skimmed his hands up her arms torest on her shoulders. “Thank you. For everything.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “It was my pleasure.”

No lie, no lie in her heartbeat. One of his hands he slid overto the back of her neck; with the other, he lightly touched her lower lip.

She rose up on her toes to meet him with a kiss.

[blackhakumen]

Fanfic #2: A Halo Friendship Part 2: Ozpin's Brief Return (RWBY)

While walking through the night, yet chilly streets of Argus, Oscar begins to have thoughts about what had happened at the Arcs' household and what he said to the team. A part of him thinks that all of his words, while somewhat harsh, needed to be said back there and that he had every right to be frustrated by their actions that they displayed on the poor farm child. Yet somehow, the other part of him feels a little bad about walking out on them like that. Especially to Ruby Rose, the one person who actually treated him with actual care and kindness. While he would want to see her face to face and apologise, he knew that he couldn't come back there. Not while everyone else still thinks of him untrustworthy to the team. So for now, Oscar continues walking. Looking for a nearby bus station to get him to the nearest train station to get home to see his aunt, who he'd already missed very much. That is until a certain spirit came back to his inner conscious. A spirit know as Ozpin.

Ozpin: Oscar...

Oscar: O-Ozpin? Y-you're back!!

Ozpin: For the time being actually. But enough about me. Where on Earth are you going in the middle of the cold night? You should be inside with the others.

Oscar: ...Yeah about that... I'm actually going back to the farm...

Ozpin: W-what?! I-I don't understand... Why?! Did something happened between you kids?

Oscar: Wait....you didn't know already?

Ozpin: Oscar, I immediately disappeared from your self conscious after getting yelled at by my...former students. Of course I have little to no idea what happened after that. Now please...tell me what is going on?

Oscar: Well...I honestly don't know where to start but...

While finding a nearby seat to sit on, Oscar began to tell Ozpin everything that happened back at the house. From Jaune pinning him to a wall, Oscar calling him (and almost everyone else) out for their lack of trust and respect, all the way to actually walking out on them. After hearing what happened between them, Ozpin began to have mix emotions; between shock and sadness. He was no only shocked that one of his now former students would go as far as to attack Oscar and easily questioned his loyalties to the entire team but also how the farm boy would go as far as to walk out of them after calling them out on their misjudgements. However, he felt terrible about letting Oscar deal with all of this alone while he was dealing with his own issues himself. After regaining his thoughts on the situation at hand, Ozpin begins to tell his host:

Ozpin: Oscar....words cannot begin to describe how terrible I feel about the situation you all been through. And I am terribly sorry for leaving you to deal with this alone. Have I've known sooner I would've-

Oscar: No. I-its okay, Ozpin, really. You were already dealing with your problems back there. So there's no harm done. Even still, I've already made up my mind.

Ozpin: Oscar please. You can't go home. At least not yet.

Oscar: I'm sorry, Oz. But I refuse to go back to a team who's going keep blaming me for something I hardly even do. And I really do meant what I said back there too. So there's no point going back to them now...

Ozpin: 'Sigh' Look, I completely understand where you are coming from in all of this, I really do, but you must understand. These children has lost a lot throughout the years. Especially after everything that happened in the Beacon Academy.

Oscar: Yeah...and so does everyone else in this world, Ozpin. And believe me, I want to understand what they've been going through. Even if that were the case, that doesn't excuse any of them for acting the way they did back there, no matter how badly their loss were!

Ozpin: You're... absolutely right, Oscar. They shouldn't have let their emotions get the better of them...even if they were justified. But believe me when I say that they need us much more than ever. More specifically, they need you more than they need me.

Oscar: Why me, though?! We both know that I'm the weakest out of everyone in the group...I might as well be a lost cause at this point...

Ozpin: Oscar Pine... don't you ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, young man. You are absolutely not a lost cause! You achieved more than you could ever imagined. You were able hold your own fairly well against foes who seemed a little out of your league. And let's not forget the way you tried to help anyone out the best way you can. I don't think you've given yourself more credit than you should. Those two alone deserve as much praise as it could get.

Oscar: ...I guess you're right about that. I've.... really have came a long way, huh?

Ozpin: Why of course, my boy. And I can't be more prouder than I am now

Oscar: Wow, Ozpin I-...Thanks but... I'm still not sure if Ruby and the others even want me back or not...

Ozpin: I know my students can be...a handful sometimes. Especially when comes to dealing with their own personal issues, but I can assure you that they are one of the most finest young men and women I have ever met in my entire life. And knowing each and everyone them, I can tell that they would missed you terribly if you were to left home. And would possibly do everything they can to go and look for you as we speak. Especially, Ms. Rose.

Oscar: Even Ruby?

Ozpin: Well, she is the one who worries about you the most. Well, actually, Ms. Valkyrie worries about you a bit little more (considering the fact that she'd thinks of you as her own son for some reason), buuuut Ms. Rose is a close second. After all, she was the one you admired the most, yes? Imagine how devastated she would be when she realized you already left Argus.

Oscar: ............'heavy sigh' Okay.

Ozpin: Hmm?

Oscar: I'll go back and help them whatever I can. I..just can't leave them alone like that. Even if they don't fully trust me, a man never leaves a team behind.

Ozpin: Thank you, Oscar. I'm positive that you won't regret this. And on the contrary, it's me that the group doesn't fully trust. You won't be losing their trust anytime soon.

Oscar: You...really think so?

Ozpin: I know so, my boy. Now can we please get back inside before the night gets even colder?

Oscar: W-w-wait! Before we do that, could we go by a local supermarket from the other side of the street there? I need to pick up somethings.

Ozpin: Well...I suppose. But are you sure you have enough money to help get you what you need?

Oscar: Trust me, Oz. I think I have just enough.

Ozpin: Very well then. But it's straight back to the house with your, mister.

Oscar: (Soft Chuckle) Yes sir, Professor Ozpin.

And so, with all of that out of the way, Oscar began to walk towards a nearby supermarket to buy the things he needed before going back to the Arcs' household.

After getting what he wanted from there, which were a little bit of groceries, the ingredients for his homemade casserole, and some classy new clothes, Oscar heads back to the house where he spotted a bright light up on the staircase of the apartment.

Oscar: (Maybe they've already left to look for me...)

Ozpin: (Possibly...)

While they approach the staircase, the first thing he saw was a certain drunken grim reaper passed out on the first floor.

Ozpin: Should we... wake him up?

Oscar: .... Actually, I think it's maybe best if we don't... I'm honestly not ready to talk to him yet after...you know.

Ozpin: Yes...I believe I'm not ready to do so either...plus now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure the others will come back here eventually.

Oscar: Yeah. You're right about that.

Ozpin: Anyways, we should get inside before it gets freezing.

Oscar: Right.

And with that, Oscar left the unconscious Qrow alone and went inside to change and get dinner ready before the others comes back.

The farm boy has already realized that the road he took was far from simple but as long as he has people like Ruby, Ozpin, and the others by his side and have the will to never give up, he believed... that he'll be just fine.

[vcg73]

Kadam Fic: Greetings From Las Vegas

Decided I should probably answer at least one or two of the Kadam Week prompts before too much time passed.  :)

The prompt was this one   The story is pure fluffy fluff.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Come on, come on . . . just one more little crossbones . . .   Eeee . . . YES!  Oh my gosh! Come to papa, you lovely little doubloons!”

Adam grinned at Kurt, who was bouncing in his chair and pumping both fists. He leaned over to look at his boyfriend’s blinking, clanging slot machine and his eyes opened wide with surprise. “Oh my goodness. Kurt, you’ve just made $500 on a single spin!  If I’d known you would be so lucky, I’d have brought you to Vegas ages ago.”

Bouncing on his red leather bar-style chair, Kurt pondered the cartoon pirate that had just popped up daring him to spin again and double his winnings. He had been slightly reluctant to try the ‘Pirate Booty’ slot machine at first, a little turned off by the ‘buxom wench’ decorating it, but since Adam was already playing the Haunted House game next to it, he had decided to give it a whirl. Much to his delight, the machine had proved to be a hot one. He had built his original twenty dollar investment into nearly six hundred dollars over the course of an hour. He had been making small steady gains until he finally got a chance at a bonus round.

Adam had not done as well with his own machine, but he had managed to make a slim profit, and he had picked up a hundred dollars playing blackjack that morning so he had no complaints.  Watching Kurt’s growing delight over an amazing streak of beginner’s luck had him enjoying their shared casino experience even more.

Kurt poised his finger over the Spin button, bit his lip, glanced at Adam, and abruptly changed his mind and punched Cash Out instead. “I just can’t,” he explained. “It’s really tempting, but I feel like all the littler wins were just leading up to this one, and I would be so disappointed in myself if I pushed my luck and lost everything.”

“A wise decision,” Adam agreed, pleased to see that Kurt’s sensible side had not been overridden by the lure of easy money. “I seem to be at an impasse with this machine. I’ve been winning and losing the same five dollars for the last thirty minutes, so I suggest we try something different. Would you like to play another game, or should we go somewhere else for a while?”

Eyes shining, Kurt replied, “I didn’t actually expect to win any money on this trip. I brought along the cash from my tips, figuring I could stand to lose that much, but instead I’ve been winning like crazy!  And since I did win, I think we should let ourselves be frivolous for once, and blow some of it on something completely fun and Vegasy.”

Adam laughed. “An excellent idea, and I agree. I also assumed we’d do no more than break even, so I’ve been careful to insure that my own funds would still stretch far enough to cover our hotel room and meals.”

“I’d be happy to share the costs,” Kurt reminded him. “Don’t forget, you covered the flight too.”

Shaking his head at Kurt’s offer, he said, “No, no, darling. I don’t want you to do that. As I told you when I booked the flight, I had a few air miles I needed to use up before they expired, and this is my gift to you. I won’t have you paying your own way on your birthday. I’ve got us.” 

“All right, I won’t push. Just know that the offer stands if you do need help. ”  Kurt sighed happily. “I still can’t believe you overheard me telling Rachel that I’ve always wanted to see Las Vegas, and saved up your money and those air miles that I know you were going to use to visit home, just so you could bring me here for my birthday.”

Adam shrugged, as if the sacrifice had been nothing at all. “Don’t think I had enough to reach Heathrow, and mum and dad are going to be in Madrid for a combined medical conference and couples retreat this summer, so they wouldn’t be disappointed if I skipped. Besides, my gesture wasn’t entirely selfless. I’d been longed for a holiday with just the two of us.”  

“Me too, just don’t even try to tell me this isn’t amazing,” Kurt said, giving his hand a squeeze. “Because it is, and so are you.” 

He did not say it out loud, but the grandness of the gift itself meant less to him than the knowledge that Adam must have spent months planning and budgeting just for the joy of giving it. His last boyfriend had loved making grand gestures, but they had largely been empty spectacles designed to make Blaine look good, and deflect any anger or hurt that might justifiably be aimed at him. Adam had no such ulterior motive. He was caring and thoughtful to everyone, and he hadn’t even told anyone what he was planning until it came time to book the airline tickets, and then he had confessed his plan in time to make sure that going to Vegas was something that Kurt actually wanted to do. 

Adam gave him a quick peck on the cheek and brushed away the admiration with a bright smile and a cheery, “All right then, big spender. If you’re going to treat us to a night on the town, what shall we do with it?  Sky-high roller coasters, Cirque du Soleil, a comedy act, the wax museum, Thundah From Down Undah...”

He hitched his eyebrows as he spoke the final suggestion in an exaggerated Aussie accent, clearly joking, and something about it brought out a streak of mischief in Kurt. “Oooh! That sounds fun!  Let’s do that!”

Adam blinked. “Darling, that’s  . . . you do know it’s a male strip show?”

“Of course I do. I saw their poster in the lobby of our hotel. They’re all sewper hawt , and Rachel will be so jealous, and I can’t wait to tell everyone back home! Can we, Adam? Can we, can we, please?”

Adam had been staring at him blankly, looking as if he was not quite sure he was hearing right. But when Kurt began play-begging, he laughed. “For a moment you had me going, love. I assume you are joking, but if I’m wrong and you really do want to go and see what those fellows are packing down under, we can absolutely do that.”

For a split second Kurt was tempted to accept, suspecting that it would be fun to watch Adam get all overheated and squirmy at the sight of a dozen nearly naked Aussie hunks, but then he laughed. “Who am I kidding? The minute some oiled-up beefcake started thrusting his g-string at us, I’d be so embarrassed I’d spend the rest of the show hiding my face in your shoulder.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Adam said with a fond smile.

“No,” Kurt agreed, “it doesn’t.  But if you don’t mind, the only handsome hunk I want to spend time with tonight is you. Do you mind if we go see Cirque?”

Adam wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t mind at all.  What do you say we go grab supper first, then we’ll hunt up tickets to whatever performance is playing closest. Or did you have your heart set on a particular one?”

“LOVE?” he said hopefully.  

“The Beatles show?” Adam asked.  When Kurt nodded, he smiled. “Makes sense, given what a fan you are. All right, then. I believe the tourist guide you picked up at the hotel showed a 9 pm performance at the Mirage. You don’t suppose they offer a native Englishman’s discount, do you?”

Kurt beamed. In spite of his country of origin, Adam was not a major fan of the Beatles. Just the same, the idea of seeing a whole show centered around their music clearly did not bother him. It was so nice to be with someone who was willing to give the things Kurt liked a fair try, without immediately arguing for something they liked better. It made him eager to return the favor whenever he could, and he had been rewarded with a number of interesting experiences that he otherwise might have missed. “Probably not, but we can give it a try.”

“All right, then. Let’s go cash in your fortune and grab a bite. Maybe we’ll make one last pass through the casinos on our way back tonight and see if your lucky streak is still in business. How are you at craps?”

“I’m better at poker,” he confessed as they began winding their way through the aisles of slot machines and oblivious gamblers. At Adam’s questioning glance, he said, “I used to play with my dad and his mechanics. They taught me the basics, but Dad says I have a pretty good poker face, and I could usually bluff them all by the time I hit my teens.”

Adam pondered that, studying his boyfriend’s innocent looking features and recalling a few stories he’d heard from Kurt’s former school chums about him backing down bullies twice his size. In his unguarded moments, everything Kurt felt showed in his face, but when he had his guard up?  “I believe it. And I think I’d like to witness your skill at the tables for myself. Just don’t let yourself get caught up in any all-night poker tournaments, hmm?”

“Why not?  Got other plans for me?” he asked with a smile, giving Adam’s waist a firm squeeze. 

“Always,” he returned with a teasing wink. “But in fact, I want you to get a good night’s sleep tonight so you’ll have lots of energy for tomorrow.”

Excitement flared in Kurt’s eyes. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said with maddening nonchalance. Seeing Kurt’s pout, he smiled. “I won’t give it away, but I’ll give you a little hint to chew on. This particular surprise is not mine. The daytime portion comes courtesy of Rachel and Santana. And for the nighttime half, you can thank your dad and step-mum.  Since you couldn’t be with them on your birthday, they all wanted to be sure that you would spend it doing something you’ll love. The girls helped me pack you up an appropriate outfit for tomorrow, since I had directed you to bring only casual wear.”

Equal parts puzzled and intrigued, Kurt fell silent for the rest of the walk out of the casino and out into the warm spring night, as Adam steered him safely along the Strip with a hand planted at the small of his back. 

They made a striking picture walking together. Adam, with his golden blond hair and newly-acquired suntan, firm muscular body showed off to good effect by a tight white cotton button down and jeans; and Kurt with his reddish brown hair and still-pale skin catching the rays of late evening sunshine, tall and slender in his tight black jeans and patterned navy shirt, its sleeves rolled up to show off a pair of nicely defined biceps. 

“I can’t think of anything Dad would get excited about in Vegas,” Kurt admitted at last, coming back to earth as Adam pointed to a neon sign garishly blinking advertisement for a buffet restaurant. He nodded, then finished his thought, “unless they got us tickets to Caesar’s Palace, and I know he’s not sending me to a boxing match!”

Adam’s face remained utterly innocent, but a twitch in his cheek had Kurt asking, “What?”

“Promise you won’t tell Burt I let the cat out of the bag?” Kurt nodded eagerly. “Right location, wrong event.”

Kurt chewed on that clue while Adam paid for two all-inclusive dinners and they took their place in line.  After a moment, he gasped, and by the time they had filled their plates and found a table, he was trembling with suppressed excitement. Staring Adam straight in the eye, he nearly whispered, “Adam, they didn’t. They couldn’t have. Did they?  Adam, are . . . are we going to see Celine tomorrow night?”

A grin he could not keep at bay anymore spread across Adam’s handsome face. “I should have known you would guess it.”

“Oh my God!” Kurt shrieked, clapping a hand over his mouth when the exclamation startling an old couple walking past their table. He called, “Sorry!” then turned back to Adam. “Are you serious?”

He laughed. “Absolutely. The ladies have prepaid a luxury package for you at the day spa attached to our hotel, and I will leave you to their tender mercies for a couple of hours while I check on certain arrangements that I’ve made. Then in the evening, we’ll head over to Caesar’s to see the show.”

The smile on Adam’s face was rather smug, as well it should have been. Kurt could not imagine what he had done to deserve such a wonderful boyfriend. He did not doubt for a moment that it had been Adam who put the thought of buying tickets to one of Kurt’s all time favorite divas into Dad and Carole’s heads. His parents were wonderful people, but their musical taste rarely ventured past the 80′s classic rock station. 

Wishing he felt daring enough to lean across the table and plant kisses all over Adam’s face, Kurt settled for squeezing his hand and saying, “I love you, Adam. Thank you so much for giving me this. And I don’t just mean the concert and things.”

Clearly knowing just what he was trying to say, Adam lifted Kurt’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re welcome, darling. Happy Birthday.”

THE END

A/N: I ended it here because I’ve never seen either of the entertainments they’re about to experience, nor do I know how to play poker. So we’ll just imagine they had an amazing time at everything, went home to New York richer in both money and experience, and that Adam is going to get very very lucky for many many nights.  :)

[somevirtualnolife]

How to Date a Boy 101 (Part 2)

Also on Ao3

2823 words

Rating: G

Series: Tokimeki Memorial: Girls Side 2nd Kiss

Pairing: Daisy (OC) x Saeki Teru

Part 1: Here

It's date-time at the aquarium! Will Mizuki finally get that fairytale confession she wants? Will she and Saeki live happily ever after? The only way to find out is by following all the tips in the Habataki Watcher!

Mizuki opened her bag and took out her compact mirror. She carefully brushed her curls to one side, then the next, then just shook her head with a huff.

She shouldn’t be nervous... After all, Saeki and she have hung out dozen times before. It should be second nature by this point. There’s nothing weird about them going to the aquarium together.

So why was she nervous?

Deep breaths, Mizuki. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She just had to remember everything she and Chiyomi went over the night before and she’d be fine. Sure, her bespectacled friend was about as knowledgeable about dating as Mizuki was, but this time, they had proper reference material. If the Habataki Watcher really was anything to go by, Saeki not only would she get her feelings through to Saeki, but he should be professing her love to her in the most grandiose fashion possible.

“Sorry, did I keep you waiting?” she then heard from behind. Speak of the devil.

“No, I just got here myself actually,” Mizuki responded in a chipper manner. Honestly, him being a little late at least meant that she could take more time to prepare herself.

“Hmm, maybe I should have taken more time then. Really made you wait,” a playful smirk appeared on Saeki’s face.

“Hey!” She puffed her cheeks in irritation, which only made the white-haired boy grin more it seemed.

“By the way, those clothes…”

Mizuki eyes brightened. Already, the Habataki Watcher’s magic was being put to work.

Tip #1: Always be on point and up on the latest trends. And if you can, wear his favorite colour! He’ll no doubt take notice.

And that she did. Blue from head to toe! She only had a blue shirt in her closet, but then she borrowed a skirt from Chiyomi, and then a sweater from Todo… and a coat from her mother…

They were all totally in style though! Different styles mind you but in style all the same.

She turned her head and flicked her wavy brown hair before placing her hand on her hips. “Yes?”

“… Was it laundry day or did you get dressed in the dark?”

“E-excuse me!?” His words rammed her right in her stomach like a truck.

“What exactly were you going for? A blue sasquatch?” he crossed his arms, furrowing his brows.

“Well, you’re-”

Tip #2: Being nice and considerate is the way to a boy’s heart. Making a scene over something small could make it seem as though you’re too much to handle!

“…So funny, Saeki-kun,” she said through gritted teeth before forcing a laugh. “You’re right, it was totally laundry day! What’s a girl to do on such short notice? You know me, can’t keep myself organized!”

“We planned this two weeks ago and I know you’re obsessed with keeping everything in your planner,”

“I… ah…” she let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we just go inside?”

Tip #3 Show him that you’re interested in what he likes! It shows that you’re adventurous and engaged.

Okay, so the outfit was a bit of a bust. She should have coordinated better rather than just go straight for his favorite colour. But that didn’t mean that day was ruined yet! They were at the aquarium after all, one of Saeki’s favorite places. The perfect way to get this date back on track. That’s right Mizuki, the outfit was just a minor setback. She would still have Saeki-kun pouring out his feelings to her by the end of today, groveling at her feet.

“Did you know that ghost sharks have teeth in their stomachs?” she said as they strolled around the shark area. The aquarium had just received a whale shark, which

“Ghost sharks? I’m pretty sure they just have rows of teeth in their mouth?”

“Oh right!” she said, snapping her fingers. “Right ghost crabs are the ones them in their stomach to ward off enemies. Ghost sharks are the ones that have a retractable organ on their forehead!”

“What kind?”

“Oh yeah, which organ…” Chiyomi and her were looking at one of her ocean encyclopedias but before Mizuki could read the entry on the ghost shark, the purple-haired girl shut it quickly.

“That would be the reproductive organ, for male ghost sharks.” A chipper staff member said behind them.

A male reproductive organ? Wait a second, that’s-

“Oh.”

Mizuki just realized why Chiyomi didn’t want her reading that part. Her brown eyes then slowly glanced over at Saeki.

He was there covering his face.

The atmosphere in the shark section suddenly became heavy.

Tip #4: Let him take the lead and help you. Guys love to be able to look after people they care about.

Wait, didn’t they say that they love a girl who’s adventurous? How could she be both? Ugh, this was starting to get a little tiring. But if this was what she had to do. Also, her feet were sore. Why did she decide to wear heels again?

Oh, right because they were blue.

“Oi, Mizuki,” Saeki called, looking over his shoulder. “You okay?”

She smiled, though wincing slightly. “Yeah, I just need a bit of a break.”

“Well, there are some seats there where we can touch some of the crustaceans,” he motioned at a small water table in the center of the room. There were several children with their parents, as well as a few couples.

“Sure, that seems fine.”

The two of them took a seat. Mizuki wasn’t much for touching sea creatures, but she knew that Saeki loved them. So much to the point where he managed to drag out an octopus out of the ocean on their last hang out at the beach. Yeah, the octopus was certainly not her favorite memory, but seeing Saeki’s smile was the highlight of that day.

Right… Saeki’s smile. That was what she was looking for. Besides, these creatures were all docile and didn’t squirm, right? She’d be fine.

“Now, remember everyone! We don’t lift the creatures out of the water. You can hold the sea cucumber completely in our hands, but we don’t touch the bottom of the starfish, okay?” a staff worker explained to everyone. Well, perhaps not everyone, so much as one child whose parent was attempting to pry their fingers off a starfish.

Man, why was every elementary student that wasn’t Yuu a total nightmare? It’s not that she hated kids, but some of them were just too much. She tsked to herself and reached into the water..

But before she could, she suddenly felt something wet and slimy whip onto her face. She then froze, her eyes then looking back over to the child who had been thrashing around earlier.

And now his hand was empty. And the starfish was nowhere to be seen.

If there was ever a record for shrieking the loudest, Mizuki may have just beaten it.

Tip #5: Skinship is a must! Playfully nudging him or caressing his arm or cheek will make any guy know that you’re interested in him.

“I gotta say, I don’t think I would have ever expected to see you try and fight an 8-year-old kid,”

“I was not trying to fight him. I just wanted to give him a stern talking to about being respectful to animals,” Mizuki corrected him.

But yeah, had the parents or the staff not been around, she would have totally throttled that little kid. Maybe it wasn’t the best of light that Saeki could have seen her in, but she felt justified! Ugh, how much more did she have to endure? There was no way this was chipping away at his sarcastic exterior. How the heck was she supposed to get a confession out of him?

“Do you wanna grab anything from the gift shop?” Saeki asked her, pointing his head towards it.

“Oh yeah!” The perfect way to end a date, right? Though she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted a memento for this one. Nonetheless, if he was offering, she couldn’t refuse.

As they entered the gift shop, they came across a stand that had ornate shell-and-pearl phone straps.

“Oh, these are so cute! They even have different colours,” she said, looking them over with excitement.

“Mm, yeah they’re pretty nice.”

Saeki had leaned in over her shoulder, his face not that much further from hers. Mizuki could feel her face warm. Right. Now was a better time than any for some casual skinship!

Just as she was about to lightly poke Saeki on his sun-kissed cheek, he turned his head to face hers, which, unfortunately, resulted in her finger slipping from his cheek and getting him straight in his left eye.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what happened next.

“Saeki!” she cupped her hands over her mouth as the prince attempted to stand up, but instead stumbled backward over a sign, though thankfully not ramming his head on anything.

“A-are you okay?” Mizuki asked, finally offering her hand to help him up. “I’m SO sorry-”

“I’m fine!” he said, clearly annoyed and embarrassed as he quickly stood back up, brushing off his pants. Seems that his ego hurt more than this eye, which was maybe for the best. “I don’t know what is up with you today, but I don’t want you causing any more damage,”

Mizuki could feel her throat tighten and her heart sink into her gut.

Oh no.

This was not how things were supposed to go today.

“I-I’ll… wait for you by the s-station…”

And there you have it! Everything that you need to get the most romantic confession out of your crush!

The ride home on the train was quiet. She couldn’t even bring herself to look or converse with Saeki. She really blew it. Absolutely nothing went the way that she wanted and now the boy that she liked was never going to want to talk to her again. She could feel it. She’d just become another girl that he attempted to avoid in the hallways at school. He’d probably barely tolerate her at work. Maybe she should start looking for a new job…

She was such an idiot. Not only did she lose the chance to confess to Saeki, but it felt like she was just about to lose a friend. Whatever they had at the fireworks festival felt like it had been completely obliterated.

Her eyes started to sting as they welled up, but before any tears could fall, Mizuki felt something warm on top of her left hand.

“It’s our stop,” Saeki said with a slight sigh, squeezing her hand as he stood up. “Come on, let me walk you home,”

Mizuki’s head darted up, slightly confused. “Walk me home?”

“Yeah, walk you home.” He repeated, looking irritated, though with an ever so slight shade of pink on his cheeks. “You’ve been acting weird all day, who knows what’ll happen if you end up going home by yourself. Probably get attacked by a boar or something,”

Ah, of course. Her behaviour today was enough to worry any person about her wellbeing, but maybe it was better than anger. She slowly stood up and follow him off the train.

The sun was beginning to set as they exited the station, colouring the sky a beautiful orange, pink and violet. There was also a slight breeze in the air that whistled through the multi-coloured leaves signifying autumn. A picturesque view on what was probably the most humiliating day of Mizuki’s life.

Yet, Saeki was still here with her. Holding her hand. His were so much larger than hers, strong, yet tender. It was comforting but confusing. This of course, wasn’t the first time they had held hands. She had once complained that he walked too fast and in response, he held her hand so that she wouldn't fall behind. So, it just became a thing that they did. Still, today she would have figured that today would have been the day to end all that.

She bit her lip and couldn’t help but squeeze it slightly, trying to work up the courage to break the silence.

“I’m sor-”

“Sorry I got mad earlier,” Saeki spoke up, startling Mizuki. “And made fun of your clothes. That… wasn’t great of me. Probably didn’t exactly set the tone for today, eh?”

That… wasn’t what she was expecting. “It’s fine. I mean, it wasn’t exactly well picked out. I just kind of got stuck on the colour,”

“Why’s that?”

Ba-bump.

“Because… blue is your favorite colour.”

“Ah,” Saeki responded. For a moment, Mizuki felt his grip loosen on hers, but then tighten again. “How’d did you figure that out?”

“Well, I mean, your favorite thing in the world is the sea,” she continued. Mind as well be semi-honest. “And even your first name kind of rhymes with the colour. If you say it in English anyway. Blue… Teru. Plus, I noticed things like your tie from work and your glasses case were also blue,”

Mizuki heard him scoff lightly, but not in a way that seemed annoyed.

“Kind of stupid right?” she said.

“No. I don’t think it’s stupid. Also, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say my first name,”

“Does it sound weird?”

“No- it’s just-,” Saeki stammered, looking up at the sky as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s fine.”

That… wasn’t a bad reaction.

“Can keep calling you Teru?”

Saeki shrugged. His signification of a yes. Mizuki smiled, and with that, she slowly went from holding his hand to interlocking her fingers with his.

“Mizuki,” he finally spoke up again.

“Mmm?”

“… I just want to confirm something.” Despite talking to her, he seemed to be looking anywhere that wasn’t directed at her.

“You wore the colour blue today because I like blue, right?”

“Yeah.”

“…And you invited me to the aquarium because you know that I like going there.”

“I mean, I like going to the aquarium too. But I know it’s also one of your favorite spots, so… yes.”

Her brown eyes carefully glanced up observed the young prince’s face, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking. He didn’t seem angry, but he didn’t seem happy either. Just pensive. He hadn’t looked at her since they left the train either.

“Everything alright?” she finally asked.

“Ah- yeah. Everything’s fine. Thinking is all.” he replied, finally snapping out of his thoughts. “Oh, we’re here,”

The two stopped in front of the gate of her home. They both let go and finally looked at each other properly, though clearly unsure of how to proceed next.

“We should go to the planetarium next time,” he suddenly said.

“Since when do you like going to the planetarium?”

“Since always,” he replied, irritated. “Besides, if you act like a total spaz, then at least it’ll be dark enough for no one else to see,”

Mizuki puffed her cheeks. “Okay, I get it! I’m not going to live today down, am I?”

“What I’m trying to say is that… I know you like it, and I like… that… you thought of me today. In your own weird, overthinking way,” He cleared his throat.

She could feel her cheeks flush again, but hopefully, the sun had set enough that he couldn’t’ see it. Disaster averted it seemed.

“By the way, here,” he took a small bang from his coat pocket and placed it in her hands. “I got it while you were waiting outside.”

She opened the bag carefully and inside was the phone strap with shells and a green pearl. “Oh!”

Ah… it really was so cute! She then wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. It really was cute, and she was totally going to put it on when she got inside.

“Thank you, Teru,”

“Ah- well you know…” she could feel his muscles stiffen. “So, uh, next Sunday? Planetarium?”

She finally let him go and nodded, her eyes beaming. “Sure thing! Let’s meet at the station,”

The prince let out a sigh of relief and relaxed again. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

Mizuki waved as he turned around and started to leave. Okay, so the date was a bust and she never got her confession. But it was the first time he had ever invited her out. And the first time that she used his first name.

She let out a long sigh, scratching her head as she thought about everything that transpired today. It was a lot to think about, but at least understood one thing that came out of it.

“I really like you, don’t I?” she said to herself quietly as she looked back down at her phone strap.

“And I’ll let you know someday, I promise.”

Bonus Tip: Remember that only do what comes naturally to you. Everything else will fall in place eventually, for better or for worst.

[swan-archive]

so: ya gal viewed a Certain Notorious Play the other night in SF

a little post-mortem, because i just KNOW you all needed another one of THOSE

Michael Luwoye was a wonderful Hamilton. i know it’s catty to rag on LMM’s voice, but really, the sheer DIFFERENCE it makes when you have an actor with a powerful voice in the role. doesn’t even compare. he roared and howled and bellowed and felt like a tiny compact hurricane bursting off the stage. amazing.

- i specify “tiny” because he was VISIBLY SHORTER than both Solea Pfeiffer and Amber Iman. TINY HAM IS CANON

- Luwoye’s act 1 young Ham was maybe the cutest thing i’ve ever seen! he was SO thrilled to meet Burr and SO excited to make friends and SO jazzed to go out drinking and revolution-ing with them, just so desperate to be liked and find a place and make his name. cute boy. excitable boy.

- not to monster au at yall but Luwoye literally SNARLED “call me son ONE MORE TIME” and uuuuhhhhhh it’s all canon, all monster aus are canon now, i don’t make the rules, i just live in fear of them like yall do

- and then the turnaround between that and a more tired, more morally compromised, running-out-of-options Ham in act 2! a really deft character shift and one that was delightful to watch.

- interesting little character moment: from what i’ve heard/seen most Hamiltons jump right back into the game after “Say No To This,” bantering with Burr and bouncing off to the meeting with Jefferson and Madison to Get Shit Done. Luwoye did not play it like this. his Hamilton was visibly wrung out and sick at heart at the beginning of “Room Where It Happens,” answering Burr in clipped monosyllables and not looking at him and standing all stiff and still until he started to mimic Burr’s “talk less / smile more” in an intentionally crude and sorta nasty style. this Ham was not happy to have to take a page out of Burr’s book.

- Luwoye’s “Hurricane” was a powerhouse. the rapped section was this howl of defiance that nearly knocked me out of my seat, Ham standing there and daring God to do His worst and vowing he’d get back up again. ooooooof. intense.

- Luwoye emoted like a MOTHERFUCKER. his break in “It’s Quiet Uptown” was gutting. tears literally dripping off his face.

- this cast seemed...lighter on the Lams than other productions, which was a bit disappointing, but at Laurens’ first verse in “My Shot,” Luwoye did that hilarious deer-in-the-headlights fullbody freeze at him as he had a Strong Gay Moment

Joshua Henry’s Burr felt very different from Leslie’s as it comes across on the cast album/b**tl*g, but in a super compelling way. i think i saw an article that referred to his Burr as more of a “showman” than Leslie’s, and if i’m remembering right, i agree with that description. Henry!Burr was very mobile and raggedly charming, always had a disingenuous wide-eyed smile hitched up, except for...when it slipped. the untrustworthy self-serving mercenary Ham sees by the end of act 2 was very much in evidence here. 

- and his Burr broke SO EARLY! by “Winter’s Ball” he was already visibly/audibly like WHAT THE HAP IS FUCKENING re: Hamilton’s ascent. his “Wait For It” right on the heels of that was so angry. you could feel his desperation as he tried to justify his methods to the audience, and his unspoken understanding that nothing he is doing makes sense. this was a Burr who, on some level, KNEW that his schtick was not going to remain tenable for long, even if he didn’t know the exact nature of his own breaking point. suuuuuuuuuper engaging to watch.

- ahhahahaha and his delivery of the “...Okay,” in “Non-Stop” was HILARIOUS it was like “hmm yes please keep doing this thing where you say nice things about me perhaps”

- ...also, not to be crass, but somewhere around “Non-Stop” i became suddenly and powerfully aware of how his thighs looked in his costume and uuhhhhhhhhhhh. can we just like. get a Yell Heah real quick for Buff Burr? Yell. H e a h

- act 2 Burr spiraled REAL quick. his “Room Where It Happens” was wild-eyed and electric and frantic and by the time they got to “Your Obedient Servant” and TWWWE he was just a WRECK. where Leslie’s Burr gave at least the impression of making a measured choice to shoot to kill, Henry’s was clearly running on fumes and not in control, and it was terrifying and great.

- and not to go too out of order but can i just say, “Aaron Burr, Sir” is kind of a throwaway exposition-y song, but having it played between two black men? REVELATORY. INCREDIBLE. “fools who run their mouths oft wind up dead.” we were five minutes into the play and i was already like ulp

Emmy Raver-Lampman is the great love of my life and she will be my bride one day, even if i have to defeat Daveed Diggs in unarmed single combat for the privilege. i will do it. i will do whatever it takes to know the touch of her hand. are you listening, Emmy? i’m right here. i’m right h e r e

- my favorite thing about her act 1 Angelica was how YOUNG she played her. which, granted, she is a younger actress than Renee/Karen/Mandy, but i thought it was a really powerful interpretation given that Angelica really is only two years older than Eliza, is still not all that old herself when Eliza’s doing her giddy “Helpless.”

- okay. okay, so. Emmy’s “Satisfied.” okay. a YOUNG “Satisfied.” instead of a mature regretful reflection on a decision that had pros and cons on either side, the regret and the loneliness and the love felt incredibly raw and immediate. Emmy’s interpretation was very “yes, i made this choice, and oh my god what if this was IT, what if this was the END what if there is nothing like this for me ever AGAIN, i cannot take it back and i would not take it back but oh god oh god oh god” and it. destroyed. me. she had that flutter in her voice that you get when you’re crying and laughing at the same time at the second “to the groom / to the bride” and holy shit it was devastating

- also: G5 BITCH TEAR OUT MY THROAT WITH YOUR TEETH

- another fun thing about Emmy’s Angelica was how utterly unimpressed she was with every man she interacted with! her teardown of Burr almost felt like an afterthought in how easily it came out. her chemistry with Luwoye wasn’t as immediately sparky as, say, Renee and Javi’s, but their back-and-forth was very banter-y and instantly comfortable and you really got the sense of two people who could have clicked together given the chance.

- her act 2 interactions with Ham were delightful too—at the end of “Take a Break,” the staging has Angelica start to chase after Ham when he leaves all “i can’t stop until i get my plan through congress.” this was not an “i languished in a loveless marriage in London i lived only to read your letters” chase as Emmy played it. it was a “bitch i have been on a boat for THREE MONTHS and if you think i’m gonna just be like oh hahah whatever we don’t need to hang out when i came all the way over here to see your wife and you then THINK AGAIN—” chase. it was Good. her rejection of Ham in “Reynolds Pamphlet” was so complete and crushing too—it was obvious that Ham was not even on her mind, she was there for Eliza.

i expected to like Amber Iman as Peggy/Maria, but i didn’t expect the extent to which she would steal the stage whenever she was featured in a song! she was so lively and read so well from the audience and was just a joy to watch.

- her Peggy was HILARIOUS. where Jazzy’s Peggy in “Schuyler Sisters” seemed more bratty-kid-sister-i-wanna-go-home-i’m-tiiiiiiiiiiired, Amber’s was like “you guys. you guys. we’re going to get mugged. we’re going to get shot. we’re going to get mugged, and then shot, and then murdered for good measure and WHY IS NOBODY LISTENING TO ME FUFKDCHSDKSFKHEJ” and the fact that this came across so strongly when she was sharing the stage with The Great Love Of My Life and could not have rightfully expected to claim any part of my attention is a credit to her

- the faces she was making at every male cast member who came within 2 feet of her were HILARIOUS. THE FUCK IS THIS. THE FUCK IS YOU. this was a Strong Lesbian Peggy for sure.

- and then her Maria! her Maria was magnetic. she played her as complicit but very obviously unhappy about it; whenever she stepped away from Ham as he did one of his monologue bits you could see the tension and nervousness and distaste on her face, but then he’d turn back to her and the mask would snap back up. not to toot my own horn but like...I Have Been Right This Whole Time.

- and then that red dress just draws the eye whenever Maria’s onstage, such that you couldn’t help but seek her out and watch her standing there silently as Ham drove himself over a cliff into the ocean. she was RIGHT THERE for all of “We Know,” standing there under one of the staircases next to Ham as he went off, watching watching watching and UGH it was such a little thing but it was so good.

i was surprisingly not as sold on Solea Pfeiffer as Eliza as I thought i would be? she had some great moments and was overall a strong performer but for whatever reason they never quite added up to a cohesive whole for me. whatever. still gonna marry her

- her “That Would Be Enough” with Michael Luwoye was actually deeply tragic in a way i’ve never seen/heard from any of the other Eliza/Alex pair-ups. these were clearly two people on completely different pages, having conversations right past each other, and that hurt me very deeply as someone who ships the thing. but it was in my mind also very believable characterization! whatever. i wanted to die. TALK ABOUT YOUR FUCKING FEELINGS, CHILDREN

- actually one of my favorite moments of hers was a teeny tiny one in “Take a Break,” during the verse where Angelica is reading the comma sexting letter. Eliza is onstage but out of the spotlight at this point, tidying up, and she’s bent over and closing the piano when they get to the “my Dearest...Angelica.” for a second she raised her head and half looked over her shoulder and i was like OOOHHHHH SHIT because it felt very, like, “Eliza knows about this flirtation but trusts Angelica not to overstep her bounds BUT is still deeply unsatisfied with how it is playing out” and i just. liked it. good shit.

- i think there���s a spectrum of “Burn”/post-“Burn” Elizas; in my mind i look at it as the spectrum of ice Elizas (exemplified by Pippa) to fire Elizas (exemplified by Aubin Wise/Lexi Lawson). Solea’s “Burn” fell closer to Pippa’s on that scale, very cold vengeance and restrained but ugly hurt, but after that song she ran even colder than Pippa’s Eliza. she didn’t break at all in “It’s Quiet Uptown,” not even when Ham did. her air was this frigidly magnanimous “yes. you did this to us. don’t presume to do it again,” and she looked to be the one supporting him as they exited. i don’t know that that’s my Eliza, but it was interesting to watch.

didn’t have super strong feelings about any of the revset/dual cast folks, aside from surprisingly Jordan Donica as Laf/Jefferson! was not expecting to jive on him, given Daveed is such a charismatic actor in both those roles, and he was clearly working hard for the trickier raps, but he was very funny and fun to watch.

- as Laf, he really got across the sheer Badness of Lafayette as a person, in the sense that he was deeply uncool and trying real hard and just. not. quite. making it. he was also very good at the physical comedy bits given that he is built like a man who is half human, half giraffe, and half random bag of pipe cleaners stashed in the back of the crafts closet of an elementary school classroom.

- seriously he is ALL LIMB. he TOWERED over everyone else onstage. A MONSTER. A MISSHAPEN GIANT

- he also played a very slick and menacing Jefferson who was constantly using his height advantage to attempt to intimidate Ham. didn’t work, obviously, but made for some very striking tableaux in the cabinet battles.

Ruben Carbajal had a lovely voice but i believed him more as Philip than as Laurens because HE LOOKED LIKE A LITERAL CHILD. HOLY SHIT. chubby cheeks and petulant pout and all. it was nuts. where is hamilton casting getting ahold of all these FETUSES

- as i mentioned i preferred Anthony’s Laurens but i did enjoy what a fratty little fucker Ruben’s Laurens came off as. like a hummingbird given human form. that was fun.

Mathenee Treco was a good Herc, kinda camp gay dad friend? which was unexpected but fun. his Mads was a little more vital than it seems like other people’s tend to run; he came off as someone who would overreach himself and then break down into coughing. something a little different.

i eh...didn’t particularly care for Isiah Johnson’s Washington. it was a fairly played straight Local Dad Fed Up With This Shit, Just Wants To Go Home And Build A Deck, which like...isn’t wrong, but there could be more, you know? eh. nothing’s perfect i guess.

i think it was @duckbunny who characterized Rory O’Malley’s King George as “bratty spoiled rich child throwing a temper tantrum” to Groff’s “sleazy abusive bf” King George? or maybe that was someone else? anyway i believed it, both because of his very round babyish face and because of his lack of poise compared to Groff’s King. he was scaryfunny. i habitually skip kgiii’s songs when listening to the cast album, so i was pleased to find myself enjoying all of them live. still think either “What Comes Next?” or “I Know Him” could’ve stood to be cut and replaced with...almost anything else to cover the costume change, really, but they’re fun, no big deal.

this has very little to do with anything but the ensemble featured dupes for Carleigh Bettiol, Betsy Struxness, and Ariana DeBose, i wasn’t sure what to do with this information, perhaps you are not sure what to do with it either, we can just hang out and be puzzled together, it’s chill

[comics-mostly]

the grey world - a sequel to “the burning bridge” (written 01/24/2016)

I am sitting on my grey world, staring at the bridge when he arrives.

He doesn’t make a sound as he inches towards me, but I know that he is there. I can feel his presence, like a sort of pressure surrounding me.

“I suppose you’re here to torch this bridge as well,” I say.

He is standing directly beside me now, “Will I need to?”

Without turning to him I answer, “No, that won’t be necessary. I know what I need to do.”

“Then why have you yet to do it?”

“I’m trying to,” I pause as I try to think of the correct way to phrase it, “understand.”

“Understand?”

“Yeah. I’ve been examining it,” I stand up and walk towards the bridge, behind me I know that he is following, “trying to see what it was that caused this one to go so badly,” we arrive at the entrance to the bridge, “you see, everything seems okay right here. The work put in at the beginning was solid. I mean, it’s definitely not perfect, but it was definitely strong enough to support us,” I step onto the bridge and walk down to the center, with each step I take metal and wood become weaker, and far less stable. After a few steps I stop, knowing at this point it’s not safe to continue. The metal here is rusted beyond repair and the wood is rapidly decaying by the second. Going further would surely result in falling into the crevice. “It’s here where things started to go bad. I was careless and didn’t lay the foundation correctly and, well, it resulted in this. On the other side, however, she just kind of gave up,” I look to the other end to see if I can see her but she is gone, “where she is now, I haven’t the faintest clue.”

“And what is it that you’ve learned so far?” he asks.

“Well, not much.” I chuckle softly, “I mean, I suppose if I learned anything it’s that the work that she and I put forth at the beginning was amazing. But as we got closer to the end, we teetered off and stopped putting forth that same effort, or anything close to it, really. And before, when things got hard, we would motivate one another from afar, but eventually that stopped working. It just became hard and well, one day she just stopped showing up and that was the end of it. I guess it got too hard for her. To difficult to continue working.”

“It always will be difficult, though.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. And if she couldn’t handle it then, better that she quit then build a bridge that would never support us, like I was.”

Behind me the figure is heading back to my world. I turn to follow him. He’s the same as I remember him, perhaps maybe taller now, though. The hood he wears is still there, and I’m sure that it’s still hiding his face. This phantom.. this stranger.. just like before, he brings me comfort with his presence. It is when we reach solid ground that he finally turns to me and we see each other, face to masked-face.

“Shall we finish this then?” he asks.

I turn away from him and towards the bridge. It has to be burned. I know that. But it’s hard. As he said, it always will be. How could it not? To put so much effort into something only to lay waste to it. It would be impossible not to feel something. But this feeling in my gut, unlike last time, isn’t sorrow. It’s anger. I’m angry that I have to do this, because I figured I’d never have to torch another bridge. That this would be it. My final time.

I was wrong.

And while I know it’s okay, I also know that it’s not okay. I know that my anger is justifiable, but also that I cannot allow myself to let it to envelope and dictate who I am and what I will do next.

No.

I will take this for what it is. A lesson. I will learn from it, and I shall grow. I will forgive myself and the other individual who worked on this bridge, but I shall not forget.

Yes.

I have to do this. I have to rid myself of this burden and allow myself the opportunity to move forward.

“Do you have the match?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I reach out my hand behind me and he places a lit match between my fingers. I bring my arm in and move the lit match close to my face, admiring the flame. I look at the bridge again, take one last glance and commit it to my memory. I’ll never forget what transpired here.

I toss the match onto the bridge and watch.

It happens in an instant. The match falls onto the bridge. The fire spreads throughout it entirely, burning fast and strong. It shines bright, brighter than any fire before it, and I do not turn away this time.

No.

I watch as it burns and disappears into nothingness.

And as it disappears I feel a weight alleviate from my chest. No longer is it weighing me down.

Yes.

The bridge has been burnt. The connection has been severed.

It’s time to move on.

For a moment I forget that he is still standing behind me until he says, “how do you feel, Nicholas?”

I am unsure as how to answer that so I say, “Good. Bad. Goad? Is that a word? It should be.” I smile softly and turn to him, “it was difficult, but it needed to be done.”

“Yes, now the world can continue to move forward.”

“The world can continue to move forward?” I ask, intrigued.

“Yes. In time you will understand.”

“Of course,” I scoff jokingly, “you and all your grand mysteries. I don’t know if I should even trust you, especially after you lied to me last time.”

“Hmm,” he replies inquisitively.

“Don’t be coy with me. You lied when you showed me that bridge off in the distance. Making me walk in, what I now realize was, a giant circle.”

“Hmm,” he says again, this time confirming that this was true.

“But,” I continue, “I understand why you did it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. It was necessary for you to find a way to get me to leave this place, even if it was only temporarily. At that time you told me that I was fixated on that bridge because it was all that I knew, and you were right. I couldn’t stay here because if I didn’t leave I would never understand what this place is.. this world of mine. You had me leave so that I could understand it, understand exactly what this place is. If I had stayed here.. well, it would’ve amounted to the same thing occurring that did last time,” I chuckle as I face the crevice, where the previous bridges once stood, “and even though it did happen again, at least this time the result was far different. I’m not crying or lashing out at you because of this. I’m taking this for what it is. A lesson.”

“And what lesson did you learn?”

“I learned that I need to be careful with who I work with, and that if I’m going to create something with someone.. well, then I need to be prepared to constantly put forth my all in it.”

A moment of silence passes before he asks, “What will you do now, Nicholas?”

“Hmm? Well, build of course.”

“Build?” he asks, “here?”

“Yes,” I reply, “this is my world now.” I face away from the crevice and towards the emptiness behind me, “I remember you once told me that this place was not my home, and at the time I suppose you were right. I wasn’t ready to call this place home. I was far too immature.. too inexperienced to handle the idea of being here on my own. I needed to have my friends and family to support me at that time. I wasn’t ready then, but now I think that I am. No.. I know that I am. I can do this. Here.. this place.. it’s home for me now,” I smile, “yeah, it may not be all that pretty, but it’s mine.” I stare into the void for a moment before saying, “I know to you it doesn’t look like much, hell, it isn’t much. But, where you see nothingness, I see everything. Possibility, you know?” I take a knee and put my hand on the ground, “it is here that I will build. It is here that I will grow. And then,” I stand up and turn back to the crevice, “when the time comes, I’ll start building another bridge with someone new.” I turn to the figure, “and while I know that won’t happen for some time, I’m okay with that. I’m okay.”

I felt a new vibe coming from the figure. Pride? It is a possibility. He looked at me with those eyes I couldn’t see and I could feel that he was happy, or at the very least content, with my answer and with the man I had become since he’d last seen me.

“You seem much more sure of yourself now,” he says.

“Do I?” I chuckle, “I suppose you’re right. I mean, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? I’m not the same kid I was all those years ago.” I reflect on the person I was when he originally found me, how weak and hopeless I was; the me who was unable to let go; the me who clung to the idea of the fixing something I was never meant to fix; the me who allowed his obsession with that bridge to stifle his growth. How different that person was in comparison to the man I am now.

“I understand this world of mine a lot better now, and I can thank-you for that. But, even still..” I look down at the grey world beneath me, “I don’t understand it completely yet,” I look at the figure, “I would ask you, but I’m sure I already know your answer. Besides, when I really think about it, I don’t want to know. I’ll take it as it comes. Let it be a surprise, or whatever. Something to look forward to, I guess.”

He looks at me and, without speaking a word, his message comes across loud and clear.

“I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“You’ll be fine from here on out, then?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I wish you the best of luck.”

He dematerializes in front of me, his essence carried along by the wind. Where he is going, I cannot be sure. Perhaps into the sky, to become one with the stars.. perhaps, in fact, he is a star, watching over me in the dark night sky. However, where he is now is unimportant.

No.

What’s important is what remains here and now. I turn from where he once stood, back towards the emptiness and begin planning.

Yes.

This is a brand new beginning for me.

Now then..

[5hfanfiction]

With Every Sip - Part 5

Lauren Jauregui was seventeen years old. She was seventeen years old and she knew that she wanted her last year of high school to be the best one yet. She knew that it was also about time that Camila came out of her shell and started enjoying school too, and she was determined to make it happen. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, football games, parties and dances were never her friend’s thing, but now that Camila was actually living with her, Lauren figured at least that gave her an advantage. She knew that when her mom had agreed that Camila could stay with them, that it was probably going to change the dynamic of their friendship, although Lauren wasn’t quite sure if it would be for better or for worse. And ok, they did get on each others nerves sometimes, and they’d bicker over dumb shit way more often than they used to, but when it came down to it, their relationship had never been better or stronger. She knew that sometimes Camila felt out of place though, because occasionally when they were doing stuff as a family, she would notice her standing on the outside, watching on uncertainly, like she didn’t want to intrude. She knew that a lot of these experiences were probably all new to Camila, at seventeen years old she was only just learning what it meant to be part of a real family, and Lauren guesses that’s got to be kind of overwhelming. She knew that Camila would get used to it though, and as time went on it seemed like she did. It started to feel like Camila had always been with them, Lauren couldn’t imagine life without her. But what she wanted to be when she grew up? Lauren still didn’t know, all she knew was that right now, she was more concerned with getting into the same college as Camila than she was over what her major should be.

Camila had been staying with them for just over a year, when one day Lauren’s mom sits her down alone and tells her they need to start discussing other possible living arrangements for her friend. She justifies the decision with a “it was only ever meant to be a short term solution Lauren”, followed by something about Camila being a lovely girl but she has three of her own kids to worry about and she doesn’t think it’s fair for Taylor or Chris that her time and attention is being spread out so thinly these days.

Lauren does understand where she’s coming from. She knows her mom had been doing a lot for Camila over this past year. She’d fed her, clothed her and put a roof over head, not to mention tutoring her to make sure she she had the best chance of getting some sort of academic scholarship for college. Camila had always been smart, however, with everything else that had been going on in her life, her school work had definitely taken a hit.

So yes, Lauren does understand what her mom is saying, but that doesn’t mean she agrees. They’re almost at the finish line and the last thing Camila needed was for her life to be turned upside down again and everything she’d worked so hard for to be thrown down the drain. Lauren’s not exactly sure where it’s coming from, but all of a sudden tears are spilling from her eyes as she tells her mom that Camila can have all the time meant for her, she doesn’t care if she misses out. Then out of sheer desperation she adds that if Camila has to leave then she’s leaving with her. And Lauren knows that maybe she’s being a little dramatic, but she’s also pretty sure she means it.

Her mom’s brow furrows, a look of concern spreading over her face. “You feel that strongly about this?” She questions her daughter.

Lauren nods her head frantically. “If you kick her out you’re basically telling her she doesn’t matter. And she does matter mom, she matters to me.”

“Of course she matters Lauren.” The older woman sighs, before an uneasy silence falls between them.

“Can I ask you something?” Her mom eventually speaks up again after a few moments.

“Hmm?” Lauren hums as she raises her green eyes to look up from her lap.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it isn’t what comes next. Her mom’s suddenly asking her if she has feelings for Camila and Lauren can’t help but stare back at her like she has three heads or something. Because seriously, what kind of question is that? Her mom keeps going though, she says it doesn’t matter to her if there is something going on between them, she just wants her to be honest. And Lauren really can’t believe they’re actually having this conversation. Like yeah, she  and Camila are super close friends, but that’s expected when you’ve been through as much as they have together. And maybe they are a little touchy with each other, but that’s because… well because they’ve always been that. They’re just really comfortable with each other, so what? It’s really not a big deal, Lauren protests to her mom like it’s the biggest deal in the world. She just doesn’t like being misjudged, that’s all.

“There’s no need to get upset sweetie, it was just a question.” Her mom’s calm voice cuts her off mid rant.

“I’m not upset.” Lauren snaps. “I just don’t like having to justify my friendships.”

Lauren’s mom just nods, a small yet understanding smile on her face, and nothing more is said on the matter.

After half an hour of more discussion about how they can make this arrangement work, it’s settled that Camila can stay, but there’s conditions. They both both have to help out a lot more around the house and Lauren has to start being a bit more independent and responsible. Her mom also declares that their year long unofficial sleepover is officially over and that Camila and Lauren need to have separate bedrooms. Apparently they both need to focus on senior year, which means they can’t continue staying up all night talking and giggling like they have been.

Lauren wants to argue, because she doesn’t think her mom understands that sometimes Camila’s nightmares wake her up in the middle of night, extremely distressed and disorientated, and she’s the only person who knows how to handle it. Ok she hasn’t worked out how to stop them yet, but she’s mastered the skill of quickly calming her friend down and getting her back to sleep. Having Lauren there when she wakes up just seems to bring Camila comfort if nothing else. But Lauren knows she has to pick her battles, and the most important thing right now is that Camila is allowed to stay, regardless of which room she’s sleeping in. So she says nothing.

The discussion seems to be over for the night so Lauren heads back to her room only to find Camila lying on her bed staring up at the ceiling, a worried expression on her face.

“Do I need to leave?” She asks in a small voice the moment the door closes behind her, and the words immediately making Lauren’s heart drop. She kicks herself herself for letting Camila overhear even a second of that conversation.

“No, of course not, don’t worry.” She replies quickly.

Camila finally diverts her eyes from the ceiling to look at Lauren now. “But when I was coming out of the bathroom I heard your mom saying that I couldn’t stay here anymore. I never wanted to intrude, I…”

“You’re not intruding.” Lauren cuts her off. “She just had some worries… I think recently she’s been struggling a bit with an extra person, but I said we’d both help out more, let her spend a little more time focusing on Taylor and Chris, y'know? She said you can stay though.”

“You sure?” Camila asks, still looking just as worried and entirely unconvinced.

“It’s fine, I promise, you don’t need to worry Camz.” Lauren stresses, before pulling off her sweatshirt and walking over to her drawers where she begins rummaging for something to sleep in. 

Well, that’s at least what she pretends she’s doing, really she’s just rather not be looking at Camila when she asks her next question.

“Did you uh, did you overhear any more of the conversation?”

“No, I came back to the room. I was kinda scared to listen to anymore after she said I had to leave.”

Lauren nods her head.

“Well, my mom also said we uh, we can’t share a room anymore after tonight. Apparently we’re setting up the spare room for you tomorrow and you have to sleep in there from now on.”

“Why does she want us in separate rooms?” Camila shoots back immediately. “I like being in your room.”

“I like you sleeping in here too.” Lauren replies awkwardly as she continues to pretend to sort through her t-shirts. She should have known Camila would want a reason, although part of her was hoping she wouldn’t ask.

“She says it’s because we’ve been staying up too late and we need to focus on school.” She eventually continues, before stopping again as she contemplates leaving the conversation there rather than filling Camila in on her mom’s idiotic assumptions. But there really isn’t anything going on, so it’s not a big deal right? It’s funny right? Not saying anything about it would probably be stranger than just telling Camila right? 

Right.

“Honestly I think it’s actually because she thinks there’s something going on between us.” Lauren finally admits, the words quickly tumbling out of her mouth before she can change her mind.

“Something… something’s going on?” Camila noticeable stutters back, repeating Lauren’s words to her.

“Yeah, like we’re gay, or something.” Lauren chuckles, as she finally turns back around to face Camila.

Lauren expects Camila to laugh with her, or to at least pull a face like she had when her mom first said it. But she doesn’t. Her chocolate brown eyes just stare straight back into hers as another worried expression floods over her face.

“Dumb right.” Lauren chuckles again, trying to lift the tension that seems to have suddenly filled her room.

“Yeah.” Camila half heartedly chuckles back as Lauren finally stands up to throw on the large t-shirt she must have pulled from her drawer at some point.

Really, she just desperately wants a way to end the staring competition she seemed to have unwillingly entered.

“You don’t need to worry about it though.” Lauren tries to reassure Camila as she now pulls off her jeans and begins to shimmy into a pair of shorts. “I set her straight.” She adds, before stopping to admire choice of words in amusement. “Set her straight, about us being straight.” She adds with a laugh before turning away again.

Lauren pulls a makeup wipe from the pack sitting on top of her dresser and begins to clean her face, only stopping when she hears the other girl speak again from behind her on the bed.

“Laur?”

The seriousness she hears in Camila’s voice now prompts her to turn back around to face her friend, who is now sitting up at the edge of the bed, biting her lip nervously.

“Yeah?” Lauren replies just above a whisper. She doesn’t understand what’s going on right now, but everything feels weird.

“Would it be be a problem if I was uh… if I was?” Camila stumbles over her words.

Lauren tilts her head to the side as she tries to comprehend the question. “If you were what?”

“If I was like… y'know… gay?” The brown eyed girl continues to anxiously chew on her bottom lip, as she stares intently back at Lauren, refusing to even blink. It’s like she’s scared to miss even a millisecond of her reaction.

“Are you?” Lauren responds immediately.

“Well… I guess, yeah.” Camila replies, followed by an awkward, “Not for you obviously.” Which for some reason makes Lauren giggle.

It’s kind of a surreal moment. Lauren had been defending Camila’s sexuality for years, she never once thought the things her friends said about her in school were true. Not that she would have cared, but Camila was her best friend and Lauren just assumed that if she was anything other than straight that she would have told her by now. Her mind is running a million miles a minute as she tries to make sense of this, to piece it all together. Because, sure, Camila never seemed that into any of the boys in school, but Lauren hadn’t got the vibe she was into any of the girls they knew either. And ok, maybe Camila’s celebrity crushes were mostly female, but everyone has girl crushes. Girls are just prettier to look at, even Lauren knows that. And so what if when they used to lie in bed during sleepovers playing ‘Kiss, marry, kill’ that Camila always chose the girl option to marry, no matter who it was.

Ok, so maybe now Lauren really thinks about it, she’s starting to wonder how she hadn’t guessed already. Or maybe in the back of her mind she had, because Lauren knows she should be shocked right now, but she’s not. Perhaps she had always known, but it had really never mattered enough for her to consciously acknowledge it.

“Ah, ok… cool.” She says casually, after a long drawn out silence, not wanting Camila to feel like this was a huge deal.

“Cool?” Camila’s eyebrows raise questioningly. “Cool as in, you don’t care?”

Lauren is silent for another moment as she mulls over her next words.

“The ability to love is a beautiful thing Camz, whatever form it comes in.” The green eyed girl eventually replies with a shrug. “As long as you find someone who treats you right, I really don’t care what gender they are.”

And with that, Lauren turns back around to face the mirror and begins to remove the rest of her makeup like they hadn’t just had one of the most important conversations of their friendship up until this point. Her reflection looks calm, but on the inside, her brain is still in overdrive.

She meant it when she said she didn’t mind, because she really doesn’t, but for some reason there’s a feeling of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach she can’t quite explain and an awkwardness in the air that’s never been there before. Lauren’s eyes subtly flick from her own reflection, back to Camila, who is staring down at her lap, still anxiously gnawing on her lip. Lauren wonders if she feels what she’s feeling right now too. Whatever it is that may be.

As if she can sense Lauren is watching her, Camila suddenly looks up, their eyes instantly meeting in the the mirror. They’re both silent for a moment, just staring. Lauren is sure Camila is trying to communicate something to her in that moment, but for once she has no idea what it is. Camila’s eyes have always been so expressive, so easy to read, but right now, Lauren swears they must be emitting a new language that her brain can’t comprehend yet.

And then it’s over as quickly as it began. Camila admits defeat, her eyes dropping back down to her lap.

“Do you want me to sleep in the guest room tonight? If you’re uncomfortable sharing, I can set it up?” She asks in a mumble that is only just about understandable.

Forcing the weird feeling she has to the back of her mind, Lauren tosses her makeup wipe over into the bin as she whips back around to actually face Camila,

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ve been sharing a bed for over a year. Nothing’s changed, you’re still the same person you were thirty seconds ago. I just know you a little better now.”

It takes a moment, but for the first time that night, Camila smiles, and instantly everything is ok. And Lauren smiles too, simply because she can’t help it.

“Maybe don’t mention the being gay thing to my mom yet though. She’ll just make more silly assumptions about us.” Lauren suddenly adds without much consideration for her words until it’s too late.

Immediately Camila’s smile drops, and Lauren knows she has said entirely the wrong thing. Her friend has just found the courage to do one of the scariest things and she’s stupidly managed make it seem like it’s something to be ashamed off.

“I don’t mean it like that. Like I’m really proud of you, but I, I just…” Lauren stumbles over her words in a flustered backtrack.

“It’s ok, I get it.” Camila smiles again, but even Lauren can tell it doesn’t quite reach her eyes this time.

-

Camila Cabello was seventeen years old. She was seventeen years old and she knew that whilst most people her age couldn’t wait to grow up, all she wanted was for time to slow down. She knew she felt like this because she’d never really got a taste of childhood and for the first time in her life, she was finally now getting to experience what it felt like to be young and carefree. She knew that this was also why the thought of having to move out of the Jauregui’s scared her to death. In just three months she’d turn eighteen and would age out of the foster care system, she’d be out on her own and the carefree teenage life she had barely gotten used to would be over. So she knew she was willing to do whatever it took to stay here, at least until the end of the school year. She’d do every chore in the house and would not step foot into Lauren’s room if that’s what it required to stay in Clara Jauregui’s good books. She knew long before Lauren told her, that her mom was suspicious of their relationship. She knew because sometimes she’d catch Clara watching the two of them with a inquisitive smile on her face, quickly looking away the second one of them noticed her presence. She expected Clara was aware of her crush on Lauren, but she never once imagined, not even for a second, that the older woman had thought that the feelings were mutual on both side. As much as Camila liked Lauren’s mom’s theory, she knew that it was unrealistic. She knew that when she finally came out to Lauren, she couldn’t expect that the other girl would suddenly announce her undying love for her, but part of her stupidly hoped it would at least make her question the nature of their bond. She knew now that it hadn’t, not even a little. But what she wanted to be when she grew up? Camila still didn’t know. All she knew was she needed to find a way to accept the fact she was never going to be with Lauren like that, before it ruined everything.

Lauren and Camila talk about a lot of things at night. They stay up for hours sometimes until they physically can’t keep their eyes open a moment longer. But tonight as they lie in bed, they talk about love and relationships and sexuality, and something about the conversation just feels so real and raw that Camila thinks it makes all their previous night time conversations feel pointless and superficial. It hits her all at once that they really aren’t kids anymore. At some point their friendship had become so much more than just messing around and having fun. They still do those things of course, but Camila is realizing now that maybe the older you get, the more a friendship requires and therefore the more meaningful it becomes. And Lauren’s friendship does mean a lot to her, even if that is all it will ever be. She’d rather have Lauren as a friend than not have her at all.

As Camila’s eyes finally drift closed that night, she decides that she’s happy Lauren knows now, even if it’s not the entire story. Happy that a weight has been lifted off her shoulders, even if only by half. Happy that this feels like it’s made them closer, even though the closer they get, the more it kind of hurts. But Camila knows she really couldn’t have asked for Lauren to react any better to her coming out, she’d handled it pretty perfectly. So she guesses she should be grateful for that if nothing else.

As the year goes on, their final Winter dance of high school is coming up fast. Well, final for Lauren, but a first and final for Camila. And that’s if she even goes, because as much as Lauren has tried to convince her, she’s still not sure she should. But with just one week to go, it’s an argument that comes up every day. Like now, as they stand in the kitchen and Lauren grumbles something about not having date because she wanted to go in a group, which will be completely pointless if Camila doesn’t go.

“Your friends don’t like me Lauren.” Camila groans and it comes out so whiny that she even annoys herself.

“They’d like you if you actually allowed them to get to know you.” The other girl snaps back. “You’ve never even given them a chance.”

“That’s not my fault Lauren, you know it’s not.” Camila mutters as she looks down at the floor, immediately hearing Lauren sigh.

“I understand that it’s hard for you to trust people Camila, I do. But you trust me right? I wouldn’t tell you that it was ok for you to come along with my friends if it wasn’t, or that you were going to enjoy it if I knew you weren’t. I’m going stag so you don’t have to worry about being left out, what more do I have to do to convince you?”

Camila stays staring at the tiles on the floor as she thinks the decision over for the thousandth time. She knows that part of her does really want to go, so she’s not sure exactly what’s holding her back.

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” Lauren presses. “We can go dress shopping this week and get ready together, it will be great. I want you to be there Camz, it will be way more fun.”

That last plea is the one that gets her. Not because Camila is any more convinced than she was before that she would have a good time with Lauren’s other friends, but because she sounds so excited and Camila can’t bare to let her down.

The next seven days are spent talking about nothing other than the dance, as they trawl the internet for hair and makeup looks, organize limos and photographers for the pre-party and shop for the perfect dresses. Camila can’t believe how much planning and money is being put into just one night, which also makes her extremely relieved that she recently got a weekend job and doesn’t need to rely on Lauren’s parents to pay for any of this. Even though they do kindly offer.

Before Camila knows it, it’s the day of the dance and she is standing in the upstairs hallway, staring at herself in the full length mirror. Her eyes scan down the long black backless dress that’s tightly hugging her figure. She usually wouldn’t have the confidence to wear anything that showed this much skin, but the look Lauren gave her when she came out of the changing room wearing this was enough alone to convince her to buy it. She glances up, taking in everything from her hair that is hanging to one side in loose curls, to her makeup, which is subtle but still more than she would wear on a daily basis, and for once Camila actually feels kind of pretty.

With one final deep breath, she steps into Lauren’s room, ready to reveal her final look for the night to the only person who’s reaction she actually cares about

As soon as she walks through the door, Lauren’s eyes shift over to look in her direction, and it only lasts a second, but Camila doesn’t miss the way her face kind of drops for a moment before it breaks into a smile. Lauren shakes her head with a proud grin still plastered on her face, muttering a “If some pretty girl doesn’t kiss you tonight it’s a crime” which Camila knows is meant to be a compliment, even if it is the last thing she wants to hear right now.

There really is only one pretty girl that she wants a kiss from, and that isn’t going to happen, so Camila just smiles back at her shyly. It’s just about all she can manage as she prays that the girl standing in front of her is right, because God damn she needs something to distract her from how beautiful she looks tonight. Maybe someone else, another girl, is all Camila needs to get over Lauren once and for all.

Maybe, Camila sighs internally, but probably not.

As the night goes on, it turns out that Lauren’s friends are actually pretty decent people. Ok, not all of them, but the majority are cool. Above everyone, Camila feels particularly at ease with this one girl named Dinah. She’s funny and quirky and Camila thinks she’s just the right amount of weird that makes a person interesting. And ok, she’s no Lauren, and definitely not the distraction Camila was hoping for, but at least she’s nice. Plus she kind of takes her under her wing right from the start of the evening, making the rest of the night ahead seem a little less daunting.

As promised, Lauren sticks pretty close to Camila for most of the evening. They dance in the same groups and sit together at the same tables, and although it not exactly the fairytale prom she’s dreamt about having with Lauren, Camila doesn’t remember the last time she smiled this much. The grin barely leaves her face all night, or at least it doesn’t until Rhys Harrison asks Lauren to dance with him during one of the slow songs. She blushes whilst giving Camila a quick questioning glance, only agreeing to his offer once she gives her a silent look that tells her she’ll be ok on her own for a little while.

Camila watches on from the sidelines as they take to the dance floor and the brown haired, face sculpted by the angels, perfectly muscular boy wraps his hands a little too low around Lauren’s waist for it to actually still count as her waist.

Camila doesn’t want to care, but she just hasn’t worked out how not to yet. It’s a work in progress, she promises herself… it just hasn’t worked or done much progressing yet.

Fortunately, she doesn’t get time to wallow though, because just on time, Dinah makes a comment so dry and sarcastic that the non-alcoholic punch currently in Camila’s mouth shoots out of her nose as she laughs like a cackling hyena . Then, like she knows she needs a distraction, her new friend immediately pulls her up from her chair and over to the photo booth where they spend the next ten minutes taking pictures with fake mustaches and other random props. They briefly go to the bathroom after, killing another five minutes and by the time they come back again Lauren is thankfully sat back at the table. Yes Rhys is there too, but at least he’s now sitting a foot away, his hands kept well and truly to himself.

By the time the dance ends at 11pm, Camila’s more than ready to go. She admittedly has had fun tonight, a lot more than she expected, but she’s definitely not used to this amount of social interaction with so many people. The whole night had been pretty mentally exhausting for an introvert like herself and honestly she can’t wait to get back to the Jauregui’s now and just climb into bed and hibernate for the rest of the weekend.

But it seems that plan will have to wait just a little longer, as Lauren announces she has other ideas for their night. Apparently Normani Hamilton is throwing an after party and they just “have to be there” because “everyone is going to be there”.

Camila does protest at first, telling Lauren that she can go on to the party whilst she heads on home for some rest. But Lauren is getting good at persuading her friend to do the things she’s scared of and she eventually wins her over with a speech that Camila is pretty sure she’s had planned in her head since before she even agreed to go to the dance

“Listen Camila Cabello.” Lauren had addressed her. “Tonight you are the youngest you are ever going to be for the rest of your life, so make the most of it! We’ll both have plenty of time to rest when we’re old and senile, bickering in some retirement home together. Tonight we’re just going to enjoy being seventeen though, ok?”

And that, along with the playful smirk she gives her at the end is how Lauren wins the argument that brings Camila to where she is now, standing in the middle of her first ever party.

She hates to admit when Lauren is right, but much like the dance, Camila actually doesn’t think this is so bad either. Even if out of the one hundred people here, she is the only person who isn’t drinking.

She thought she’d hate being surrounded by this many intoxicated people whilst she was sober, because before now she hasn’t liked drunk people at all. But as she stands here now, she realizes that maybe there’s more than one kind of drunk. Because tonight she doesn’t hate it. Tonight she likes how longer that the alcohol flows, the more everyone seems to lose their inhibitions. In school everyone was always so uptight and worried about what people thought of them. But tonight, here within these four walls, no one seems to care anymore. People joke, and laugh, and play beer pong, and challenge each other to ridiculous contests, and sit on the floors of bathrooms declaring how much they love each other, and Camila thinks it’s all pretty refreshing.

She watches on from the sidelines as two of the most masculine guys on the football team slow dance for a large cheering audience in the kitchen, whilst Darren Jones kisses the girl he’s been too scared to even talk to before during a game of spin the bottle in the living room. She laughs along with everyone else as Brian Johnson, head of the chess club, surfs down the stairs on an ironing board, whilst Ally Hernandez fills the washing machine with cereal for a reason that no one is quite sure of. And that’s when Camila comes to the conclusion that parties are weird and wonderful places and not as scary as she’d originally thought. She decides that maybe alcohol doesn’t always have to be a bad thing, although she’s still not drinking tonight.

Camila hasn’t seen Lauren in over half an hour, when she finally makes her way outside to get some air and simultaneously check up on her. However, the second she steps into the backyard, she realizes that she is probably only going to find one of those things, as a thick haze of smoke and the smell of tobacco and weed hits her full force. Fresh air is the last thing she will find out here.

“Cameelaaaa” She hears a familiar voice call out loudly, followed by another equally as obnoxious. “It’s Camila, Rhys look.”

Camila’s eyes find the pair just in time to see Rhys nod an acknowledgement in her direction before throwing the butt of his joint to the ground and stomping it out.

“It’s fucking freezing, I’ll see you guys inside.” He announces and with that he quickly slides back in through the door with two others, leaving the two girls completely alone for the first time that evening.

Camila looks up at Lauren, her striking green eyes now  a mixture of bloodshot from the weed she’s been smoking and glazed over from the alcohol she’s been drinking.

Lauren gives her a dopey smile before holding out the joint in her hand for her friend to take. Camila hesitates for a moment. It’s not like she’s never smoked with Lauren before, she’s just never really been that into it, always preferring to feel fully in control of her own mind. Lauren on the other hand, whilst not being a stoner exactly, smoked quite regularly at social events or when things were getting on top of her at school. Unknown to many other than Camila, although Lauren usually remained very cool and collected on the outside at all times, she was often quite anxious and the weed seemed to help a little, or so she said.

Camila guesses everyone has their vices, she should know that more than most. After all, hers is standing right in front of her.

“Everyone is getting more drunk and annoying by the minute, you’re going to need something to keep you sane.” Lauren speaks up again, pulling Camila from her thoughts as she now holds the joint up to her lips.

Camila finally gives in, because as good as she is at 'saying no to drugs’, she can’t seem to master saying no to Lauren as easily. She leans in to take a long drag, as the other girl watches on intently, her lips slightly parted.

“So, are you having a good night?” Lauren asks once Camila pulls away again.

“Surprisingly, yes.” She grins, feeling an instant rush to her head, which could just as easily be caused by the way Lauren is looking at her as it could be from the weed. “I hate to admit it, but this was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.” She continues.

“I told you you’d enjoy it, I’m always right.” Lauren smirks and exhales a cloud of smoke simultaneously, leaving Camila wondering how she can make every damn thing she does look so attractive.

She pushes that thought to the back of her head and shrugs. “Not always… I mean, no one kissed me so you were wrong about that. Although, that’s not a shocker really.”

The green eyed girl furrows her brow and stares back at her wordlessly for a few long moments. Then before Camila can even comprehend what’s happening, Lauren’s lips are on hers and just for a moment, the whole world and everything in it stops.

It takes a second for Camila’s brain to catch up, but the moment it does, she kisses Lauren back. She can barely comprehend what’s going on as their mouths continue to press together. She can’t think, she can’t breath, she can’t do anything other than kiss Lauren, reacting to the movements of her lips with nothing but pure instinct.

It only lasts for another seven heartbeats at most, but it’s long enough to make Camila’s head spin so fast that it makes her wonder how she’s still standing upright.

Lauren sucks on her bottom lip for one last moment before finally pulling away. Camila slowly opens her eyes again to find that the other girl is already staring back at her with flushed cheeks and heavy, glazed over eyes. As much as Camila would like to pretend the look on Lauren’s face was because she was as flustered as she was right now, she knows it’s probably just most likely down to the fact her friend is just super fucking high.

“See, I really am always right.” Lauren says with a cheeky grin on her face and an only slightly notable slur in her voice.

“You’re an ass.” Camila chuckles as she gives Lauren a playful shove.

“Don’t even try it Cabello, you know I could take you down.” Lauren teases as she grasps Camila tightly around both of her wrists.

“Is that right?” The brown eyed girl smirks back, not missing how flirty this whole interaction seems to be, but seeing as they just kissed, Camila’s not exactly sure where the boundaries are right now.

“I need another drink, you want something?” Lauren suddenly changes the subject without warning, letting Camila’s arms flop back down to her sides.

“Uh, yeah… I mean I’ll just have a coke, but yeah, a drink, that would be good.” Camila rambles, her head still completely in a daze. She doesn’t even realize that Lauren is holding her hand out for her until she speaks again.

“You coming?” Lauren raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Camila hesitates for another short moment before finally taking her hand. They always hold hands, so it’s not a big deal, she tells herself and they walk back into the party together. It’s packed in here, so it’s not a big deal, her brain adds as she continues to try not to overthink it.

But she is overthinking it, because this is Lauren. Her friend Lauren who just kissed her. Camila can’t get that thought out of her mind. Maybe it’s because this kiss didn’t feel like when they were twelve and just practicing. Maybe it’s because it didn’t seem anything like when the straight girls in their grade would kiss each other to impress the boys. Or maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t anything to do with the kiss at all, maybe it was the way Lauren had looked at her after it was over, because Camila can still see it every time she closes her eyes.

Whatever it is, it makes Camila wonder if there was a chance that kiss could have meant something.

She doesn’t have to wonder long though.

Within the next thirty minutes Camila watches as Lauren kisses Alexa, then kisses Lucy too. And yeah, they’re both just short pecks on the lips, but it makes Camila’s heart sink like it’s been stuffed with rocks then dumped in the ocean. She’s instantly hit with the harsh reality that their kiss it really didn’t mean anything to Lauren at all, maybe kissing girls is just something she does at parties. Maybe if Camila went to more of them before now she would have known this.

The night ends an hour later, once Lauren finally manages to consume just one too many drinks. They’re in their uber now and she’s apologizing for getting this wasted so profusely that she’s literally still going when they eventually walk in through the front door of the Jauregui’s house.

Camila swears over and over again that it’s really ok, but that doesn’t seem to be even enough to convince her friend.

“It’s not ok, it selfish.” Lauren groans, head hanging over the kitchen sink as continues to gulp down a glass of water that Camila was forcing her to drink. “The one thing you shouldn’t have to deal with anymore is looking after drunk people.”

“Well this is a little different, you’re a nice drunk, you’re cute” Camila shrugs.

“Is that why you didn’t drink tonight? You’re worried you might not be a nice drunk? You’re worried you might be like them” Lauren asks, the filter that usually sat between her brain and her mouth obviously still wherever she’d left it at the party, probably sometime between drinks six and sixteen.

“I don’t know. I guess.” Camila shrugs.

She doesn’t really want to go into this right now with a drunk Lauren. Although she is kind of impressed by how coherent the girl’s thought processes are right now, considering she can barely walk in a straight line. A fact that is further proven the second Camila begins to try and guide her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their bedrooms. She grasps onto Lauren’s hips tightly from behind her just in case her body suddenly decides it would rather go backwards during their climb to the first floor.

“Laur, my rooms this way.” Camila whispers as they reach the top of the stairs and Lauren tries to pull her in the opposite direction than she should be going.

“But my room is this way and we’re having a sleepover” Lauren whispers back nowhere near as quietly.

Camila quirks an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Since I just decided.” Lauren informs her confidently, like it’s the most well thought out argument she’s ever came up with. And maybe it is, because within Camila’s hand is instantly back in Lauren’s for the second time that night, as she silently lets herself be guided into her friend’s room.

As they start to get changed Camila can’t help but wonder if she’s going to get in trouble for this. However, Clara had claimed the only reason they had to be separated was because of school and they’re now officially on Winter break, so she guesses that by that logic, staying in Lauren’s room for one night is probably ok.

She’s still fumbling absentmindedly with her zip, thinking this over when suddenly Lauren is standing in front of her, already dressed in her pajamas. She’s asking if she needs her help, and Camila thinks she must have agreed at some point without realizing, because a moment later Lauren is behind her undoing her dress, letting it drop to the floor around her ankles.

When she turns around, she finds that Lauren is right up in her face, personal space obviously no longer something she’s aware of.  Camila watches as Lauren glances down her body for a second. She knows this is nothing new, they have both seen each other in various states of undress over the course of their friendship, however, this time feels different and she’s struggling to breath under Lauren’s prying eyes. Camila has never felt so vulnerable under someone’s gaze as she does right now.

“Everyone was saying how good you looked tonight, like everyone.” Lauren eventually breaks the silence that has fallen between them. It doesn’t lift the tension though and Camila can literally feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she blushes.

“Don’t be shy, own it.” Lauren adds just moments later. “You looked beautiful. I mean, you’ve always been beautiful, but tonight you were definitely the prettiest girl there.”

“Well that’s a lie.” Camila scoffs, finally finding her voice. “There’s so many beautiful girls in our year, plus you were there so…”

Lauren rolls her eyes, cutting Camila off before she can even finish what she’s saying. “Just say thank you, then shut up and take the compliment Camz.” She chuckles and Camila can’t help but notice that for the second time tonight, something about their interaction feels so playfully flirty.

“Thank you, Lauren.” Camila relents, as she wonders how this moment is even real life. Because really, in what crazy alternative universe would she kiss Lauren and stand in her room flirting with her whilst she is practically naked, all in one night.

Lauren’s smiling back at her, then suddenly something shifts and the smile instantly fades. In that moment, the look in Lauren’s eyes change too, along with the air around them. 

Camila has known Lauren for twelve years, so she knows her inside out and she knows every look she’s capable of giving. But this one? This one Camila has never seen on Lauren’s face before today. She’d noticed it when she first walked into her room in her dress earlier this evening and again just after they kissed at the party, but only now, the third time she see’s it, does Camila finally realize what that look actually means.

Her eyes are currently glued to Lauren’s, so she can’t see it happening, but she can feel as the other girls fingertips lightly begin to graze her hips. It’s done so softly that Camila can only just feel it, yet it somehow still manages to set her skin on fire

She wants nothing more to just lean in and kiss the girl in front of her, because everything about Lauren’s face right now is screaming that she wants her to. But something holds her back and for a few split seconds she wonders how drunk Lauren is and whether acting on anything right now would be taking advantage of her. The last thing she wants is for a sober Lauren tomorrow, to regret a drunk Lauren’s actions tonight.

In the end, Camila doesn’t have to decide. The green eyed girl suddenly glances over to her bed and then back to Camila and the next thing she says makes the decision for her.

“Camz? Can you hold the bed still for me? I can’t get in whilst it’s spinning like that.” She asks, her voice still slightly slurred as her her brow furrows with genuine concern.

Camila steps back out of Lauren’s space, internally sighing. Not tonight.

-

[gwynne-fics]

wei50-blog replied to your post “wei50-blog replied to your post “Pictures – Young-Do coming to terms...”

Yes, we all know how Gwynne likes to smash things!!! (but she puts them back together in such fun, creative, and interesting ways so we don’t mind!) And yay, we get to see Bo-Na’s powers in action soon!!! (Where’s Chan-Young, though?!? Love it when he watches Bo-Na be awesome, always protecting and supporting her!) Also, Kyung-Ran could have produced a gun and broken out of jail anytime, so why now?

Hold onto that thought about putting things back together in fun, creative, and interesting ways because Chan-Young won’t be far behind Bo-Na.

Kyung-Ran had her reasons >.>

HS has every reason to be terrified, and he was just plucked from the pan into the fire! He would want to be with R for his daughter’s birth, but with everyone else glaring murder at him, it can’t be a comfortable place. Hm, the right kind of love. Because HS did (does) love R, when he left, he love left a dangerous void in her? So if R had never had that type of love, there would not be this danger? Even now, the love of others would have been enough for her?

That is is a very good question about needing the right kind of love! Young-Do and Eun-Sang are going off of what Esther said to them about Rachel’s broken heart. Bo-Na confirmed it for them and proceeded to get all up in arms about how Rachel was lacking the right kind of love and that only Hyo-Shin could fill her love systems for her.

But you’re right to ask, if Rachel had never felt Hyo-Shin’s love, if she’d never given him love in return, would there be any danger? Probably not. There would also be no Hye-Rim.

This love situation puts Rachel in danger but it doesn’t mean she will die or that the other love can’t sustain her, because familial and friendship loves are just as powerful. Bo-Na and Esther are just worried and because they are experts, Eun-Sang and Young-Do are scared, too.

Understand why Rachel hid Hyo-Shin from her brother. Wish she didn’t though! Hyo-Shin could have been caught before things got so far and the hole so deep. They potentially wouldn’t have had as much to work through to be together. Also, if Young-Do and Eun-Sang would have seen and known Rachel and Hyo-Shin together, maybe they would be more supportive of them now. (Never fear, happy HyoRa times in Pictures is on my list!)

Yes, that definitely would’ve helped but then there would be less angst and breaking of hearts >.> (And I look forward to it!)

Love to know mother backstory, both of them! Very curious to know what, if any, type of relationship Kyung-Ran would want to have with Young-Do now. And here’s hoping that Esther will really see how much pain Young-Do is in, and put aside her pride for love of him! So glad poor Young-Do has Eun-Sang with him now! Yes, everything around them is wrecked, but they have each other!

>.>

<.<

Hot Mess MyungSol Answers:

It’s almost like MS has to start all over again now that Ye-sol has her human voice back. Yes, he will have to step up and fight for this mating! Good step to talk, come to an understanding, and finally couple with each other. Still some things to resolve, though. YS needs to talk to R. They need to let the pack know what happened before and what the situation is currently. The open relationship will be a testing time for both of them. What will his mom think now?

Jae-Kyung will probably voice some of her concerns because she doesn’t exactly want him jumping into a mating so young, especially with someone so much older than him. But Myung-Soo has always done what he wants, so she’ll be resigned and try to support him.

Ye-Sol actually does pretty well for coming back to her human after three years away! Seems like such a difference between her wolf and human self in maturity? Still trying to figure out if she does love him because there really wasn’t much of a chance to think it out? Her wolf unexpected marked him as her mate, healed him, human voice retreated for three years, and just newly returned!

The human voice is supposed to be a bit more tempered than the wolf voice, so I’m glad I got that to come across ^^;; She has a lot to consider because almost no time has passed for her.

Becoming Royals Answers:

Would love to see Go Nam-Il with Myung –Soo! I’m sure he is just as wonderful a dad to he as he is to Young-Do! Can see how there might be more frustration, though, because Myung-Soo, despite receiving the same teaching, has some not so positive qualities. Still think there are redeeming qualities in Myung-Soo! He just needs the right circumstances to bring them out!

Myung-Soo is much more willful and Nam-Il understands that’s because he won’t be king, so he tries to take a different approach. Young-Do is one of those kids who disappointment works on but Myung-Soo needs his toys taken away and grounding for behavior to change >.>

YD is ecstatic! The life that he had never dreamed of having is starting today, with R! He has grown up with the pressing knowledge of the expectations of his mothers, and the responsibilities of his position to the kingdom. Marriage was part of what he needed to do and he was willing and ready to fulfill this obligation. Finding R was unexpectedly wonderful, and loving her and being loved by her has filled a longing that he had not allowed himself to admit before!

He truly is living to find joy since meeting Rachel instead of just waiting for the King to die so he isn’t miserable. Rachel is just as thrilled. Her choices were getting limited and loveless.

Rachel is so brave, even if she thinks she is displaying weakness by crying! (she is so awesome in BR!!!) In fact, moving ahead with plans, despite her very justifiable fear, just proves her courage even more! So glad to see Young-Do already drawing strength from her! So excited to see the two of them grow together as a couple, learn to trust and depend on each other more and more!

This is my favorite part of writing them. Each struggle they overcome just brings them closer together.

Isn’t someone always listening, whether it is known to them or secretly? Also, so true about getting pregnant! It’s a wonder the human race hasn’t died out by now! So glad to know that Young-Do will be protecting Rachel through this next obstacle! At least everyone will all want her to get pregnant as soon as possible although some will be more helpful than others, especially if her motives are in question! (hmm… or will it really be that everyone wants an heir???)

:D :D :D

ChanBo QR Answers:

Yay request game!!! And our long-suffering ChanBo couple! Happy for their good news, also sad that they still have to fight so hard to be together! Bo-Na has to be so strong to go through pregnancy, birth, and more than the first year of their baby’s life by herself as an unmarried mother! Not that it is by choice, but those who will judge and look askance at her won’t know or care.

She is about to do something very scary but for her, living without Chan-Young is even scarier. My favorite thing about Bo-Na was how she was so unashamed of her love for Chan-Young and basically threw it in everyone’s face. In fact, her fight with Ye-Sol was about how Chan-Young wasn’t good enough. It is going to be hard (which you will see in the requests, if I get any ^^;;) but Bo-Na eventually wins :D

Too bad Bo-Na has to maneuver her family in this way by this pre-emptive strike! How are they going to react? Such shame would be attached once everyone finds out she is pregnant! Would her family go so far as to disown her? How would she support herself?

She’s cashed out, very quietly, some of her shares and put it in a high yield savings account just in case she does get disowned. However, she is beloved by her parents, even though they are at odds on this topic. She is expecting them to avoid the scandal and let her marry Chan-Young during one of his breaks.

That doesn’t happen but they also don’t throw her out. They keep trying to show how progressive they are by letting her be a single mother >.>

[k-renne]

King of Pain Pt. III

Previously:  I, II

You watched the snowfall from the view of your window; it coated each branch in a soft layer of white. The sky was completely overcast, almost the same color as the snow. The cold from outside seeped through the windowpanes. It was invigorating. You were interrupted as Martha knocked on your door.

“Hello Martha, it’s lovely to see you again,” You greet Kylo’s handmaiden.

“You’re too kind my lady,” She smiles.

“Martha, I have a question for you about the King,” You start. She nods, signaling for you to continue. “I was wondering about his suitors, and if there was anything to indicate his interest in me, it just seems so random,” You voice your curiosity.

“Many women fancy the King, but he rarely pays them any attention. Speaking from personal experience, his majesty looks at you differently and after the duel he would ask around about you,” She explains.

“I see, I believe you, though I don’t appreciate that he expected me to marry him so easily.”

“Well he doesn’t have much experience with woman, he’s learning. But let me assure you that he has a great respect for you,” She justifies.

You take in a breath and let out a sigh, maybe Kylo was a bit demanding, but after getting to know him your initial opinion of him changed. You had suitors before, men trying to charm you, none of them had captured your interest like this one. His directness was almost refreshing, he knew what he wanted and he was honest. It was a change of pace from some of your past crushes who just wanted to play games.

Martha leaves you to reflect, Kylo was slowly worming his way into your heart, and you didn’t know if you really wanted to stop him anymore. Physically he was incredibly handsome, with his strong nose and pink mouth, all framed by his black hair. His stare was striking; it made you feel dizzy, and his voice. Oh that would be the death of you, just thinking about it made you flustered.

You open your door to see Kylo standing outside of it just about to knock on your door. His eyes light up when he sees you, flashing you a bright smile.

“Y/N, I was wondering if you would allow me to give you a proper tour of the castle today,” He offers.

“Sure,” You reply. Kylo offers an arm for you to take and you give him a skeptical look.

“Come on Princess, please,” He urges. He wanted to show you off to his people.

“Fine, I’ll appease you today,” You roll your eyes. You rest your hand on his forearm and you swear you can feel his muscles tense underneath. He smiles warmly at you before beginning to walk with you. He explains some of the history behind the castle, showing you various paintings a long with a self-portrait. 

“You looked so stoic,” You comment.

“I guess I didn’t have a reason to smile then,” He grins at you.

“It’s also off center,” You add.

“That’s because traditionally a space is left for the Queen,” He explains, eyes full of mischief. You scoff, now he was teasing you.

He continued to show you the palace, in all its grandeur. There were a lot of reds, silvers, and black, to match the royal crest. It was very modern and sleek, designed for protective and aesthetic reasons. The ballroom by far was the most extravagant, huge arching windows and a grand staircase that led to an upper standing area.

“Here we have many events, the biggest one being the Winter Soirée, which is actually coming up in a few weeks,” He says.

“I see. I haven’t been able to come in the past but I can imagine that it’s wonderful,” You speculate.

“Why not? I always invited you,” He questions.

“Well I never really had a date to go with, or even a friend. I don’t like to go to such big social events on my own with a room full of strangers,” You explain.

“Hmm, I’ve never had a date either, but I guess it’s a little different when it’s your own party.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I let my fears get the best of me. Maybe this year I’ll gather the courage to come,” You hope.

“Don’t apologize, I understand.” He squeezes your hand in a comforting gesture. “Although I’d love to see you come this time, you could stick with me, be my date or just go with me as a friend if you prefer,” He suggests.

“Okay, I think I’d like that,” You accept his invitation.

“Wait, as my date or as my friend?” He asks.

“We’ll see Kylo,” You answer, smirking at him. He shakes his head at your ambiguity, unsurprised at your refusal to give him a direct answer. You liked to mess with him, he was certain of it. He would just have to go along with your little games.

He continues to show you his palace; though he can’t show you every room he shows you the most important ones and the things that might impress you. An example of this would be the throne room, where he spends his time greeting the court and his people.

“What? Kylo why exactly are you showing me your bedroom,” You question.

“I just thought you might want to familiarize yourself with your quarters, know where they are just in case. It’s not easy to find,” He flirts with you.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” You sigh.

“Only for you Princess,” He teases.

“I mean do you really need that big of a bed, it’s excessive,” You criticize.  

“You’d be surprised how much space one might need, why don’t you try it out?” He suggests.

“What! Are you serious?” You question.

“Always, come on try it out. It’s very comfortable, I should know I sleep there every night,” He goads you. You’re flabbergasted by his shameless attempt at flirting with you, at the same time you kind of love it. Seeing his bed of silken sheets, thinking about him lying there got something going in you. Probably not the best idea, but you decided to entertain him, flopping on to his bed like a starfish.

“Isn’t it great?” He asks, lying down next to you on his side, eyes appreciated your form on his bed.  You push him away playfully, but he only moves closer, barely budging from your hand. You decide to lie back against his soft pillows and close you eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cool smooth fabric against your head and the delightful smell of fresh linen mixed with Kylo’s scent.

This gives Kylo a great opportunity to stare at you openly, admiring your features while at the same time trying to ingrain them in his memory, so he could see you clearly in his dreams. He shifts so that he’s just hovering above you, face just inches from yours.

“Kylo, What are you doing?” Your eyes snap open at the feel him his breath against your face. His brows furrow, he feels like he can’t control his own actions. Your eyes hypnotize him.

“Y/N-I, can I kiss you?” He says barely above a whisper. Your eyes widen, and before you can think you blurt out yes, too caught up in the moment. He leans in slowly and you tilt your head and close your eyes, anticipating the kiss. It’s so gentle and soft, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt you, and before you get the chance to deepen it he pulls away. He looks at you again, cheeks pink, completely bewildered that you would humor his request. 

“Uh, I should probably show you the library.” He gets off the bed and looks at the floor like he’s about to ask it a question.

“Oh yeah, right,” You agree, beginning to come to your senses. There was something about this man that made your brain feel all fuzzy, thoughts muddled. You felt your heart beat just a little bit faster at the sound of his voice; you couldn’t believe that you’d ever find anyone that made you feel this way.

You walk over to him, “What you aren’t going to offer your arm this time?” You tease him. He shakes his head, against better judgment you grab his hand and begin walking. You don’t see him smiling down at your hand, fingers intertwined with his own.

Kylo leads you to the library, where you’re greeted by a bunch of kids. They all come up to you and Kylo, leaving their story time. “Who’s this Kingy?” They asked, calling him by their nickname for him.

“This is Princess Y/N, she’s my guest,” He presents you to them, crouching down to their height.

“Wow a Princess! You’re even prettier then the story!” A boy remarks.

“She is pretty isn’t she? Just beautiful,” Kylo asks the children, they all agree with them in a chorus of voices.

“Aw you gonna get mawwied?” A little girl asks. Kylo laughs and you become flustered at the relevance of the question.

“Maybe if I’m lucky, it’s up to Y/N though,” He answers. The girl turns to you and gives you big puppy dog eyes, “Pwease?” She pleads. You laugh at her cuteness.

“I won’t say yes, but I won’t say no either right now. We’ll see,” You answer vaguely.

“Can I be the flower girl?” A girl chimes in. “Yeah and I’ll be the ring bearer!” A boy adds enthusiastically. In their minds you basically said yes and they’re already thinking of the future. Kylo laughs seeing your frown, and he can’t stop himself from smiling at your answer. No longer was it a complete rejection, it was much more possible now.

Next the kids all join hands and encircle you two, dancing around while singing ‘Here comes the bride’. Kylo gives you a penchant look, before snaking an arm around your waist. You let the kids have their fun with their little game.

“Kingy can you read us a story?” One kid asks and others join in until Kylo finally agrees, asking you first if you mind.

You’re surprised that Kylo has such a good relationship with these children; they’re completely unafraid in his presence. There’s always something charming about seeing a man good with children, it’s a sign of good character, patience. Kylo can be pretty monotonous, but he reads the story with enthusiasm, putting effort into entertaining the kids.

By the end of the story they’re all leaning in, fully invested. You sit on the floor with the children while he sits on a chair. The kids are sitting close to you, holding your hand and sitting on your lap. Kylo smiles down at you and winks, seeing how much they are taking a linking to you.

After the story Kylo has to leave you to go and get some work done, he still has to run the kingdom after all. While he’s gone you go into the training room, where his loyal knights who are eager to speak with you meet you.

“Princess Y/N, it’s wonderful to finally properly meet the one that Master Ren keeps on talking about you, we’ve all heard great things,” A Knight greets.

“And we were particularly impressed by your swordsmanship, who taught you?” Another one asked.

“Thank you, I started teaching myself when I was a kid, sometimes taking a few classes here and there. Eventually I was trained properly by a veteran from my kingdom,” You explained.

“We’d love to spar with you sometime if you’d allow us,” They say eagerly.

“Ah more challengers, well someday we’ll have to, but I don’t think now is the best time. I’m sorry.”

“Of course Princess, we wouldn’t want to steal you away from Master Ren, he’d get jealous,” A knight answers.

“It was lovely to meet you all, but looking at the time it seems as I must go,” You say goodbye. They all wave and you leave to meet Kylo for dinner. He looks much more exacerbated then before.

“Are you alright? You seem tired,” You voice your concern.

“Yes, I’m fine Y/N. Even though I have great stamina in battle the proceedings of the court never cease to drain me,” He sighs. “But let’s not talk about that, I want to enjoy your company,” He adds.

“Well I am great company,” You boast.

“Yes you are my lovely, now let’s eat,” He directs, gesturing to the food. His term of endearment makes you breathless. You eat dinner with him, discussing your encounter with his knights and telling him more about yourself while he listened with rapture. After desert he places a velvet box on the table, he gives it to you to open and inside is a silver necklace with an opal framed by more silver.

“It’s for you, I hope you like it,” He addresses.

“It’s beautiful, this is too much. Thank you Kylo.”

“Nothing is too much for you, here let me put it on for you,” He offers. You nod and he gets up and walks behind you, taking the necklace in his hands. He gently brushes aside your hair, fingertips lingering on your neck before unclasping the necklace and putting it on you.

“Beautiful.” He coos, placing a kiss on your neckline.

“You’re too much,” You shake your head.

“You know I’d give you the moon if I could,” He speaks honestly.

“I don’t need you to spoil me, I’m already a princess,”

“That’s the whole point, no one ever needs to be spoiled, and if you think you’re spoiled now just you wait,” He promises.

“You’ll never give up will you?” You ask.

“Never,” He replies immediately. It was the truth, giving up was just not in his nature. He would fight for you till the very end; he was determined to win your heart. If you truly detested him you would’ve left and more importantly you wouldn’t have let you kiss him. He was more than willing to be patient for you if that’s what you wanted. He’d even give you his heart if you’d let him.

Kylo walks you back to your room and gives you a kiss on your cheek goodnight. This is when a messenger comes running over out of breath, Kylo, not knowing who it is stands defensively in front of you.

“Princess Y/N, I have important news,” The messenger breathes. You move in front of Kylo, reassuring him with a squeeze on the arm that he could trust this man.

“Yes, go on,” You urge. Kylo looks at you with concern.

“It’s your kingdom, we’re under attack from the North!” He exclaims.

Fuck, looks like something from the past was coming back to bite you in the ass.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this, I’m having a lot of fun writing it and it really makes me feel inspired. 

[rantsaboutponies]

Equestria Girls: Legend of Everfree

Can they please stop making these? I don’t budget my time well, it’s 2:30 in the morning, I want to go to bed. Just remember, I’m doing this for YOU guys. For YOU guys.

For the record, I wait until the last minute to write these reviews because they usually take almost three times the length of the movie to write. It’s also why I can’t watch them on TV; I have to pause constantly.

First of all, I didn’t hear jack shit about this movie. I think the viewership for each one really is dwindling. I barely even saw any porn of it! That is surprising!

Second of all, was this one ever available on Netflix? I swear I streamed the third one there, but now it doesn’t even have a listing (nor does the fourth one). Hopefully the version I got is the uncut version (it’s not a TV rip, and the runtime does match), but if I left anything out, be sure to tell me. Oh, and I’ve given up on that list of “things that all these movies do that directly contradict the fact that this universe intersects with the pony universe” that I tried to carry over into the second movie’s review, so keep that in mind.

Oh, and can anyone let me know if they see a trailer for My Little Pony: The Movie in the theater? It comes out in four months, and I’ve been at almost all of the kids’ movies this year (yes, even Rock Dog, which actually wasn’t half-bad, and The Boss Baby, which was not as bad as the trailers made it look but was still the worst of the kids’ movies I’ve seen this year [which isn’t actually surprising, since there have only been three]; I’m still not seeing Smurfs, though, and I’m sure as fuck not seeing Spark: A Space Tail), and I’ve seen nothing about it. I’ll make a separate post about that closer to October.

All right, the review proper starts...NOW!

I said it before, and I’ll say it again: DO THESE HIGH-SCHOOLERS HAVE PARENTS?! SERIOUSLY, WHERE ARE THEY?

Thirty seconds. Thirty FUCKING seconds. That’s how long it was before Pinkie Pie made me want to strangle her. Literally. Thirty seconds. Her first line. Fantastic impression you’re making on me, movie.

All right, Rainbow Dash throwing a picture of herself into the suitcase is certainly part of the annoying one-dimensional writing that she (and really, all of the characters) has had in these movies, but...I’m sorry, I still laughed. Forgive me.

Wow, the...uh...plot just started right away, didn’t it? I’m so confused. I sure hope this is a dream sequence because otherwise this is really stupid. Oh, okay, it was. Never mind.

Ah, the indie rock craze has finally hit Human Equestria. You guys are, like, five years behind on that, you know. I gotta be honest, though, I kinda like this theme song. I feel like it would sound better with different singers, but I’m digging this so far. Maybe this movie won’t be so bad? Ah heh heh heh...

I briefly forgot that Human!Twilight’s Spike was magically given the ability to talk at the end of EQG3, so I was thrown off there for a second. I just realized, though, that that means that they don’t ever have to have any connection to Pony!Equestria ever again. Smart idea, but Pinkie’s summary of the previous three movies immediately afterwards negates what you were going for there (especially since none of that has anything to do with the plot of this movie directly).

“You’ll get used to it.” Yeah, you’d better get used to your “friends” talking shit about you to your face. The second movie was full of that. *sigh*

Oh, goody, Professor Umbridge is the camp director. Please tell me she gets dragged off by centaurs at the end of this movie, too.

“Stay away from the rock quarry. That’s off-limits. Unless, of course, you’re a main character, in which case the plot will facilitate that you go there at some point during this movie, probably somewhere near the end. Just a heads-up.” (Also, “rock quarry” is redundant, dumbasses.)

Actually, the word “sapphire”’s link to the Latin “sapphir” (or “sappir” or “sapphīrus”) links to the Ancient Greek “sáppheiros”, meaning “precious stone” or “gem”, which probably linked to a Semitic source (similar to Hebrew’s “sappī́r”, referring to lapis lazuli), but may be related to a non-Semitic source such as the Sanskrit “śanipriya”, meaning “dark-colored stone” or, literally, “dear to Saturn”. And, as an interesting sidenote, the Ancient Greeks didn’t even have a word for “blue”. Also, rubies are not just sapphires “with chromium”; rubies are corundum with chromium. Sapphires contain other impurities like titanium, iron, or magnesium (which give them any of a number of non-red colors) that rubies may not contain at all; since chromium is what colors them red, chromium is the only impurity required to make a ruby. So, in other words, shut your fucking face, you smug dipshit.

By GOD, I hope Gloriosa is the villain because I really hate her.

See, even though Filthy Rich is, well, filthy rich and could very easily be an upper-class dickhead, the show never made him one. He’s clearly not aware what an utter bitch his daughter is, since he punished her for it the one time he found out, but he has always been depicted as someone who cares about his community and acts kindly towards the other ponies in the town without being condescending or displaying any obvious class distinction. It is something notably unique about the show and is something I’ve actually admired amidst its recent waning quality.

The people writing this movie apparently didn’t know that and just went, “His name is Filthy Rich? He must be the VILLAIN!” Goddamnit, you fucking worthless TV movies.

Oh, man, oh, man, please tell me that Princess Celestia is holding a flute there in the background because she’s telling a “This one time, at band camp” story. I’ve already made that joke at least five times in my head by now, so please tell me I’m justified.

Holy shit, look at that setup! These girls get massive tents with only two people in each and with FULL-SIZE BEDS! So much for “roughing it”! How big is this camp again? This must take up a ludicrous amount of space.

Please tell me they’re not going to do Sunset Shimmer’s storyline again with Twilight. Come on.

No, Sunset, if there’s anyone you should be nervous around, it’s Pinkie Pie.

Okay, Fluttershy’s line about “birds that land on your finger” WAS funny until you felt the need to explain the joke with Rainbow Dash’s “I think that only happens to you.” Rule #1 of comedy: Don’t! Explain! The joke!

Does Vinyl Scratch have an amazing wireless connection, or do her headphones themselves contain an MP3 player? I don’t see those working any other way.

Can I punch Timber in the face yet?

How the hell would you make that dock into a catwalk? The only way that would work would be if either the models entered from or the audience were seated in the water. Otherwise, the models will be walking away from the audience and not easily visible for the majority of their time on the runway. You’ve gotta think about logistics, Rarity!

PUNCH.

Hmm...Gaia Everfree’s story is kind of weak. And arbitrary. “YOU CAN’T STAY!” “Oh, please let us stay!” “WELL...OKAY. BUT YOU’LL HAVE TO LEAVE! EVENTUALLY! AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE!”

25 minutes in is a little late for your first song, guys. I was starting to think this wasn’t going to be a musical.

Oh, thank GOD, Timber is a villain, too. That means we’ll get to WATCH HIM DIE. ... Okay, fine, wishful thinking. Hell, being the villain in these movies (or on the show) pretty much guarantees that you’ll get even more screentime in later installments. (Also, he apparently can’t hear anything that’s right next to him as long as he’s offscreen. Right.)

Of course, the scene in the cafeteria reminded me of this.

And in the next scene, it’s impossible not to think of this.

So... Rarity’s just...useless. That’s been established, right?

Goddamnit, Pinkie, stop being a menace! You almost killed all of your friends! Again!

Hmm...this song sounds like a really lame, low-rent version of this.

Wha? You mean the obvious villain is obviously a villain? NO. (Except I guess that means that Timber isn’t a villain as well. Damn.)

Boy, it’s really convenient that Gloriosa is having these extremely lengthy and detailed flashbacks while they all just stand there, totally unbothered by Sunset zoning out and holding onto her arm.

I do like that they made dummies of Twilight and Sunset just because they weren’t there for the dress rehearsal. How long do you think that took?

“I GOT THIS!” That’s got to be one of the weakest things I’ve ever heard that someone tried to turn into a catchphrase.

Well, looks like someone really liked Maleficent.

I gotta ask...has there ever been a good villain song in the MLP movies or the show?

“Oh, no! She’s forming a wall that clearly has an upper bound! If only we had some sort of appendages that we could use to project our bodies upward! No, I think we had better wait until the vines completely form a dome over us. Surely that will work.”

I think the writers are trapped in this paradox of knowing that they have an actual interesting character in Sunset Shimmer but being forced to focus all their efforts on the Mane Six because they’re the main characters, despite having no personalities to speak of.

“What are these?” “I’m not sure! But clearly they will be in stores alongside the release of this movie!”

Ah, so you got out of the logistical failure of trying to figure out how the dock could act as a runway by canceling the fashion show altogether! Wow.

Okay, this song is definitely one of the better ones in this movie series, but holy crap, get some stronger singers. I mean, all right, I know you can’t, but...can’t you, like, release an official cover of this song recorded by an actual singer, like Disney does with their animated musicals?

I do always love the moronic cliché of the villain showing up at the ending celebration for no logical reason other than to scowl at the protagonists and storm off angrily.

You know, there are only so many features and accessories and superpowers you can add to these characters before you start running out of places to put them.

*GASP* OH MY GOD THAT ENDING CLIFFHANGER MEANT NOTHING! Seriously, fuck off with that shit.

And of course, the stinger has to show that Pinkie Pie always ruins everything. ALWAYS. ALWAYS.

All right, so in conclusion...these movies are all the same. I mean, I think we kind of established that already, but man...

Can we just give Sunset Shimmer her own movie? One where she just fucks off by herself and finds better friends with actual personalities and they all do something interesting? Can that be the next theatrical movie? Please?