#ignore all the details i didnt include i got lazy

[hiemaldesirae]

and she spoke words that would melt in your hands / and she spoke words of wisdom

more of the kid :3c

plain bg under the cut (no characters or filter)

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket Manga Review ch (90)- First pages ONLY.

I skimmed thro ch-89 to know the context of ch-90. it was Cinderella’s play. In this chapter, Kyo says early on, that time has passed since the play & that they are NOW starting their third year in high school. cool.

This part will ONLY focus on the 1st few pages of ch 90 abt (kyo & tohru) & stop before kyo’s memories starts, because the early pages contain:

Tons of new unexplored analysis of (kyo & tohru) characters that unfortunately was intentionally cut & worse! “changed” in the anime.

No space to add kyoko’s story in this post.

Kyoko’s story is full psychologically & socially.. I need to take a deeeeeeep breath before I unpack it. very deeeeep breath!

-Glimpses of Tohru (the silent grieving girl) Subtle Writing of Grief:

Right from the beginning, I hate how much insight into tohru’s grief & weakness as a human being is already there in the first few pages of ch-90 than the entire 3 seasons of the anime! From few pages we have:

Tohru’s seemingly delighted watching a video. Subtly, showcasing tohru’s grieve & paving the path for tohru’s trauma exploration later in the story. Grief is not sth you quickly past, that’s the most tragic misunderstanding of grief. Time will pass, so, you’ll be better & healthier. Really?!. Tohru’s inner desire to see her mom alive manifested in her words: “ like a photo comes to life” T_T.

The story/writing/manga is acknowledging tohru’s heartbreaking & NOT cute habit of talking to her mom’s cold dead photo! In the anime, tohru talks to her a lot in se01 & it’s up to you to see as as “ cute” as all the canon characters do or actually feeling it IS wrong. Kyo’s  “ what would she do if there were a video of her mom”! “ drives the point more abt tohru being a sad grieving human~not the “advice-giving, optimistic angel, & rain-stopping sunshine in the anime.

Tohru telling kyo to NOT catch cold connecting it to se01, ep 9 (haru’s ep) when tohru was afraid that yuki might catch cold & kyo noticed that! so now in se03, they’re dropping this plot altogether within the main anime, for what? we dont even know if this part would be included in whatever “ kyoko’s” spinoff content would be. -_-’.

That’s how you write subtle trauma such as (grief) for a main (female) MC. subtlety is the key. Respect the viewers intelligence & do it.

You don’t have to give her the long speeches or the many focused ep that yuki had. he’s the kind who confront himself inwardly constantly.

You don’t have to showcase drama, confrontation & force the emotions out like you did with kyo. he runs from his trauma & punishes himself.

Tohru buries her feelings! she’s different from both kyo & yuki. So, with her subtle & symbolic scenes are enough!!!The viewers will catch it if you show it, but ignoring it, cutting it & hoping the viewers will magically predict what you cut, is weird. But the anime isn’t even into us predicting nor subtly showing her cuz this tohru is NOT the tohru we have in the anime. How?

Simply cuz there is no kyo’s inner thoughts abt small things such as tohru’s photo obsession which subtly shows her grief & trauma. If kyo didn’t monologue abt her, tohru does not exist as she’s meant to be. You loose the subtle insights into tohru if you cut kyo’s inner thoughts. Not everything kyo thinks abt in regards to tohru is romance!!! That’s a very narrow & superficial look into the writing of kyo/’tohru dynamics. Flip the pages, hmm..cut this kyoru scene here & there cuz we dont want the anime to be only their love story.. But the story itself IS NOT only their love story at all. These pages/scenes here are abt tohru as a PERSON. Not tohru the lover...

- Writing Clashes between manga & anime: (Kyo’s Conscious Gradual Psychological Exploration vs Shock Value & Drama)

In ch 90 i really love all the inner self talking that kyo’s doing. It really explains why he ended up rejecting tohru so strongly. Also, going for a trip into kyo’s mind is hella exciting, new, refreshing & full of analysis-worthy exploration! Kyo’s inner psychological argument with himself is a psychologically-informed presentation of a tried guilty mind:

“ Why can’t I stop thinking of (kyoko’s words) lately? Acknowledging that he IS remembering kyoko & never forgot her. This is also supported in the anime itself. When he apologized to a sleeping tohru in se01, ep14 & se02, ep9 , confronting yuki in the stairs & other instances as well. 

“ It’s like a lid been opened & all the memories came pouring”. Acknowledging that kyo DID open his lid since se02, ep9 byt chose to run & not confront it due to his guilt of ruining tohru’s happiness by confessing his connection to her mom. 

“ pretending I didn’t know, pretending I forgot”. Here is a blatant clash in kyo’s writing (1) between the anime & manga (2) between the anime’s episodes themselves!!. In the manga, again kyo chose to ignore & pretended to forget. Death is NOT sth you forgot. Kyo saw kyoko bleeding & dying.  The anime chose to make him totally forget & it could’ve worked if they didn’t included all the canon moments of him actually remembering & pretending to forget. Is that lazy writing? or was the director for se03 different from se 1 &2 &? chose to NOT watch the two previous seasons? Why would you consciously include a contradicting depiction of your character on screen for thousands of confused viewers? Was the scene of kyo’s shocked gave upon seeing kyoko’s photo that artistically appealing that you forgot everything? I really have NO problem of kyo forgetting kyoko if that was written in the anime since se01, but it wasn't. that's why it sucks. 

“Is this payback? maybe I want to blame ME?” augh! i love this line so much! Directly hinting to the viewers that this is kyo’s one-sided guilt before his story with kyoko even started! subtly paving the path for the reason of his rejection of tohru” I dont want forgiveness. I want to blame ME.

-I don’t mind that the anime left kyo’s thoughts of kyoko until the climax in eo8, cuz ep 8 was SO well-done! Se03, ep 8 pacing was very suitable to (1) uncovering dark secrets & death, trauma, & guilt. (2)  for exploring the effects such secrets on kyo’s character, decisions, mentality. Also, the animation of kyo’s face all ep 8 was one of the most expressive facial expressions the anime has ever delivered! The eyebrows, eyes, mouth, tears, body languages, heartache was all 100% perfect. The fact that the following eps didnt have much time to express everything & chapters were cramped is not ep 8′s fault but the decision to have 13 eps. Kyo’s delayed trauma deserved to have its own ep.

-What I DO mind is the added scene of ep 6 where he freaked out upon seeing kyoko’s picture, the concept of shock is perfect & so suitable for an anime but was NEVER properly written into the anime itself from the beginning. On the contrary, the anime itself contradict such usage of such value. Good job ruining an otherwise perfect-depiction of two traumatized characters (kyo & tohru) with ONE scene.. -_-

Side Notes:

I thought tohru is narrating the 1st page in ch-90, turned it out it is kyo!!!! Kyo narrates sth? Kyo monologues? kyo has a POV? Just the setting of kyo doing that feels different! I duno if it cuz when that happens in the anime it’s always clash & drama! lol, or cuz it’s sth original!

Shigure’s “ it’s broadcasted all over the nation” is epic! XD! you know poor stupid kyo would fall for that! XD. kyo, you really are an idiot! XD... man this scene would’ve been epic comedy~ lol.

Tohru not knowing what a “dvd” is is outdated for the anime, but to still keep the sentiment of “her wishing she’d have a video footage of her mom”, they could’ve replaced her words with “ It’d be fun watching this play years from now & remembering all the details”. I know that to some, it feels weird that tohru doesn't have video footage of her mom in this era. but trust me, this is more common than you might think. My late brother, who’s way younger than me, doesn't have much video footage, he always felt awkward & preferred not to be filmed. We got photos for him tho~

Even if you want kyo’s knowledge of kyoko to be in the climax only. You can always include this scene of tohru & kyo in the first pages in the anime somehow. It doesn't even need to be abt the dvd even tho that’s manageable. Cutting this short scene of them talking abt videos, & catching cold is cutting tohru’s trauma from its core. Then, the old grandpa’s narration from se03, ep6 would at least have some backup in the anime’s canon.

Momiji & shigure are perfect as a comedic duo!

I can’t get over tohru’s art~ <3

Pinning kyo at the beginning is epic~ kyo always gets the BEST romantic lines when he talks to himself. “ burning (tohru’s ) memories into my head or forgetting everything”. The torturing fire inside him is only distinguished by loving her but is also ignited by loving her~ what’s the solution~

[and-it-freezes-me]

Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.” 

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

-

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

-

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

[themusechronicles]

Just a rant

I needed to put this somewhere where my mother can't see and act like she's a victim. There will be some triggering topics mentioned; including rape, mental and emotional abuse and failed parenting.

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

I hate what my mom is doing. She's admitted to "settling" for my dad, my sisters and I because she couldn't have her "true love". Now she's dating this guy and says she's happy, but I can't help but think about all the times she's thrown how miserable she is without this "true love" being with her in the faces of me, my dad and my sisters. I feel bad for this guy she's dating because how long until she decides she prefers the idea of her "true love".

I think about all the negativity she's caused that she's blamed on not being happy without this man. I think about the numerous times she's had affairs (with men and women alike) and blamed my dad for the affairs for not being like this man she really wants to be with. I think about the affair she had that led to the man she had an affair with raping my youngest sister that she blamed on my sisters and dad despite everyone except one of my twins sisters saying they didnt like him and didnt want him around. I think about my mother saying she thinks my sister loed about being raped even after her rapist had to explain IN DETAIL what he did to her.

Every time my mother gets upset, everyone else is to blame and she's a victim. We're too stupid, or lazy, or needy and she is miserable because of it. Yet she can make hundreds of empty promises and only think about herself and it's the fault of everyone around jer when things don't go her way. My sisters and I are just an incovenience at best, and more than once she's thrown in my face about having to come get me from where I had moved because I was contemplating suicide where I was because of how miserable, unappreciated and ignored I was by someone who claimed to "love me" - a lie I had to figure out first hand.

And now my mom wants me to take over her land taxes because shes thinking about moving in with this guy after only a week of dating him (granted, she knew him in high school but still, one week?). I'm not taking over anymkre of her responsibility. When she left us to be with the guy who would rape my sister, I didn't have a job to help pay bills, and my dad was barely scraping by to pay the car note and insurance. When we lost electricity and water because he couldn't afford to pay it, my mom got upset that she had to pay the bills so her children could have basics for life. I was 20, my twins sisters were 12 and my youngest sister was 9. I was doing her job raising and taking care of my sisters, as well as helping take care of my grandmother and father. My grandma died at about 3am Christmas Eve morning, and as I was crying and trying to wake her up, my mother came at me verbally, tellong me it was my fault for not taking better care of my family. I'm capable of being civil, but respect is no longer there.

Now that I'm.back at this place, I'm once again the one taking care of everything and putting bills first while my mom just does as she pleases and gets upset when she can't do such.

I'm not sure my mom understands the kind of emotional damage she's inflicted on her own children and that is concerning to me.

[bountifulwitcharchive]

I thought I would talk about stuff in my life  a bit, especially considering I keep getting rattled by anxieties and taken a back by feeling as if I am hurting or harming someone.

As an adult I take it as my responsibility to make sure my actions are concise, I feel this is how any adult should ultimately be. Whether or not who I am as surefire as I am, hurts someone by accident. Whether it is that my opinion makes someone upset ; I want them to know I am not changing who I am yes. But that I do still care about them. If  I fail to do this, then i feel as a person I have failed. Whether this is because of trauma in the past, or stuff that people from online communities made me feel. It does not matter, ultimately this is where I am at in my life.

My in real life is hard.  I dont talk about it because I have, and the end result is always the same. This contorted feeling from others who dont know how to answer and feel uncomfortable themeslves. Knowing they cannot do anything, and my own discomfort that they cannot relate. Cannot understand. Cannot know what it means like -- I often hear ‘ Is it better today? ‘ Rather then, ‘ Are things stable today? ‘ I hate that people often feel my household is a place where things can be healed or feel better, that is not the case. My household works on whether things are stabled and held together vs Anyone having gotten BETTER. The job I am getting into now deals with this , and a reason why I applied for it was because I understand. I understand so much what this means and how people who do not have members of family who are disabled like this, dont understand. Every day is a struggle. It is a challenge, but it is so normal what I understand and come home to. However, simply because I am use to it and accept it does not make the stress of it any less then how heavy it is in my heart. Because ontop of my sister being disabled and us lucky that she is communicative. My mothers health is getting worse; in terms of worse she is getting old. And her poor choice of eating. Her inability to take care of herself and having to take care of another adult for themself--mind you for the rest of their lives. Takes a toll on her. And then my brother is getting worse, hes a smart boy where doctors are realizing he too is disabled. However, imagine being told you are disabled at 13 but consciously aware of what that means ( my sister ) and afraid of what you will become. Without going into details; if anyone in this household would kill themsleves it would be him. So ontop of hiding knives from my sister. We have to hide anything ( the surplus AND VARIETY of medicines my sister is on ) away from him. While also avoiding serious conversations of our home structure struggling as to not spike his anxieties. He will self harm like crazy. And its hard watching your little brother slam his head against the wall because he is overwhelmed by the world he was born into. I have many siblings, but my sister steph who is the only other person who lives with us does nothing for herself. I am sure she has issues her self but does not speak of it. And instead sits at home. Falling more and more into imo a depression that my mother just calls and berates her for being lazy for. I keep trying to push her to branch out but I can tell how this life effects her individually and that there is something there she doesnt wanna talk about. And I cannot reach in there to help. For my other side of the family,  Where my stepmother who i discovered the other day doesnt realize or remember or care to understand that the reason i fell into depression at 18 was because of what she did . And now I have to compress my memories and ask myself if my abuse was real -- or is this another one of those ‘ Manipulators conviently forgetting to forget the abuse they did in the past to cling onto the future they have now. ‘ By all means fine, she is a mother and needs to focus on that, but for me. Who endures. And endures. Staring at someone who did nothing but break me into who I am today, and hear that she forgot. Or doesnt understand. Or doesnt know. Like to her the past was nothing, did hurt. But forgive we do because what else will you do in points in time --- people online think your own feelings are so valid that you need ruin the world around you to make it worse. But no. Sometimes. You need to accept things for what they are, and think that me in a situation where I cannot change things. Or amend if the issue is brought to light -- to focus on what I can. For my sisters. So I can see them. And for myself. So maybe one day in the future, that conversation can come to light. But for now, we deal with what life gives us and we move on.

That is why that job was too much for me? Nothing had order .everything was a mess. Nothing was put together well and often people blammed the lowly coworkers for the faults in the system if it meant they did not have to get introuble. Then we look as if we do not know what we are doing and exhaustion has hold of it. The system in place reminded me too much of abusive circumstances. I did not have a voice. My back was always in pain. My feet was always aching -- none of this mattered to them and none of anyones complaints ever reached them. They valued their own problems over everyone elses around them, and I understand everyone is dealing with so much but seeing management value their own complaints over others was horrible. Considering  Iwent into this with such a promise. With so much of who I was feeling like the brightest light about to conquer something new--the last of my hope in life. Thinking I was gunna change my life .Change my world. Offer my family something better. Something knew. Only to find out the truth of that all; that the Manager coaxed the employees there who I was . Was to be horrible. To tell her what all the coworkers were doing. So she could write them all up and -- so with that purpose and picture in mind to them. They rallied together to put me on probation and everything that I was broken to tears, realizing that--trying hard to tell myself I mattered more then what people made me out to be. Because when I salvaged my self to befriend them all -- to at least face them and figure out why they did that to me. That this was my job life for a year and a half. Lmao? And did that I did, and learned so much about what went on I had... And overwhelmed by this picture of how they lived and treated each other. I wanted to leave. And left I did, but into a situation that was just far worse.  Never in all the years of retail I have worked have I ever endured such hell like I had with these customers. And some of it I dont blame them, the store really made them feel this way especially when nothing was right. Nothing as good. And nothing worked. Regardless the complaints I had of this I was stressed and nothing  I did and nothing I got from this job gave back to me. None of it but stress and being exhuasted and finding myself stripped of who I am. ANd I tried with my quiet feelings about myself, to say things. I would say “ No I am miserable. “ And say it so flatly and awkwardly to make a point, but everyone always made a joke about it despite how flat I would remain. And then compare, “Well at least you arent management.” Nothing I said got through to them, and I tried. I promise. I tried with attempts despite how hard it is for someone like me to open up.

So yes I left and the job I have now is not something that is easy, Nor do I expect that my stress to be any less. Rather that it pays more and I am with endurance to try something new that might offer me better future opportunities and worse comes to worse -- I find a new job.

Even as this all went on I made sure my life here was as easy for me to come to as it was. Imagine. Imagine.

Just imagine.

If I was truly enduring all of this . What about everyone else? I looked at everyone like this, I looked at what I went through day by day and thought -- What if they have it worse. If I have no heart and mind to talk about what really goes on in length in my irl day by day... What if someone else is just the same? It is not for me to ask. it is not for them to say.

I geniuely wanted to be at peace with everyone online, and if something went on that was so bad by their action. I truly believed; well you cant be as bad as my Step Mother or physically bad as my sister who I deal with day by day.  That is to say, I have no interest in detailing my past. 

Im pretty sure its obvious my past does paint my anxieties and issues with how I deal with things. Approach people day by day.

And its important for you to know that, to know that I am like you or anyone else. My desire to be positive and happy is to allow for you and everyone else to feel and be surrounded by positivity in life. 

Life is really hard. 

Hell, right now I am still going through more impersonal feelings while trying to dance my around all this going on. Because even as im nearing 27 -- almost 30 years old. I still realize things about myself, and it will hit me hard. The most recent and most eye opening realization that still rattles me and probably is the reason why. I feel flippant in my anxiety ; is realizing I gave 5 years to my life to someone who did not exist. This person went by the name Logan and roleplayed Snow from FF13.  I realized ; I spent 5 years of my life giving myself to this person. This person who did not exist and catfished everyone around me. Including me. Making people believe I was obsessed with him. Making people believe that he didnt treat me as if the private things shared between us were most intimate. That I spent 5 years waiting for him. Giving myself to him. Being patient for him. Enduring anything he said and taking my feelings so that I revitalized the things I did. Said. And would approach and appreciate him more understandingly. So he didnt hurt me, or ignore me--that he took so much from me. Money. Drawings. My writing. So much of my attention and love. He took 5 years away from me that I could have given someone I actually was so in love with and still am. That acted mildly the same -- but actually had stuff going on-- I am and was so in love with that person. And All I could give him was consciously a year until everything that I felt with Logan came crashing down in remembrance. That I didnt even realize why I was really overwhelmed by it all until some how talking to a close friend of mine about everything really. Really hit me hard.

5 years.

I think.

5 years was stolen of me. 5 years of love. 5 years of who i was. 5 years of dedication. Of loyalty. Of patience. Of endurance.

I could have been a different and confident person who really believed in love and not riddled with anxieties that made me remember everything I put effort into didnt matter -- because this one person would make sure of reminding me what my actions would fall under.

Life is really hard,     and day by day I still learn things about myself.

And I just think, if you are still reading this. That you too are going through this. And that someone you know is going through this. And that we are all going through so much of this or more. And I just hope you are alright and that you are hanging on there because I want you to know that I am trying to. Very hard. To live and I dont want you to give up either so please hang in there with me. 

That is why when the group of people who often harass my community when they do not like someone.

Yes the same group every time.

Had finally had me in their sights its was overwhelming, I had thought wow -- this is what you ultimately came to understand from me? When I had tried hard to reach out to you. To be your friend. To consciously find a place where we can be together as people comfortable -- but no thats not the point I want to make.

It rattled me that it took people who knew nothing about me, to change the course of my environment just like that. I lost the hand full of people from that community I talked too . A friend I had been friends with since I was 17 . Simply because they were scared of being caught in that fire too. It was less about who I was, and more about them losing the safe haven they had. The fun group and comfort they had-- they did not want to lose that.

And I understand that. Im not mad at that, just concerned. Sad. And reeling in the fact that people can ultimately take things from each other with misplaced context. And the unfortunate circumstance that people will opt for this, instead of talking to one another.

So I am tired yes.

Because that happened, that whole thing happened while I as dealing with so much. And I had no answer for it. And that me talking about this is to tell you how effected I am by my life right now. And that it indeed upsurged my anxieties more uncomfortably so and not that that is bad or good. It merely is what it is.

And that as I am now, I am sorry. I am sorry and grievanced because I went backwards and am not as timely with things as I use to. I have been struggling to sleep, and when I wake up feel a sort of touched exhaustion that makes me feel like not getting out of bed. 

I am sorry since I cannot roleplay things most often for others that I would love to explore. That my interests as of late have been : what would make me laugh to roleplay. What would make me feel wholesome to roleplay. What can i say to talk to others? What can I do to connect with others?

My mind and interests as of late is more about; making myself feel better and coping through what means I can through roleplay or just talking rather then. Having fun with my hobby like I had been the past few months.

This is why alike on Gawain, my compliant is coming online and constantly seeing him hash’d negatively. In truth I deal with negative things on a day to day basis... I did not want to have it follow me online. If I post about it, then clearly I have left myself open for those things.. But often I dont and am trying to mind my business and roleplay leisurely when things erupt.

I am really sorry, because ultimately, I failed as a friend and as a fellow roleplayer. My talking about it is to correlate the truth but also to let people know how I am as a person. Even still.

I feel sometimes people think you know, ‘ Oh hey Sheep just excuses things. ‘ Rather its just Im a different kind of person from a harsh road of life and I see things a lot differently.

For this I will explain with a more literal example, 

Things that many people feel uncomfortable online. I myself cannot-- it is that merely I cannot. If someone is talking about something regarding their character that they were abused sexually and want to explore the meaning of this through roleplay. I do not find this insulting, I find myself glad. If people can find out what it means to have been sexually assaulted, maybe they can also connect with me too? And understand why its hard for me to expose my body ( or how overly okay I am to do so ) or how feeling /sexy/ can be a hard feeling for me to overcome.  I often see people mistaking things or not handling it correctly, but I want it to be done rather then ignored. Or treated like it doesnt happen. For an adult, this is how I separate my reality from fiction. But find a connection from my reality into something fictious. Further, as an adult I want to help people understand that difference.  It is very bad to feel gratified and pleased by subjects that are distasteful. But seeing it treated as if it cannot be spoken of discomforts me. This is a public place, but it is also a place where you control the content on your blog. By the end of the day, I will pick the things that will make me feel uncomfortable or wont make me uncomfortable.

With such a short example, I dont know if anyone read this far. I had hoped. And hope. These feelings can help others or really understand where I am with my life right now and how stressed out I really am. I cannot talk individually with people because I actually choke up. I have ADHD and often forget if I dont take it slow. And can get overstimulated by the fact that someone is merely listening/paying attention to me. I am quiet about myself because I dont like wide attention. 

But that.

The past weeks I have had such support in my life.

And I am trying not to cry thinking about it, but I have such a healthy circle of friends and I would do anything to see it through that it lasts for years to come. Me speaking like this is because of this. Because of the comfort. Because of my desire to reach out and branch out comfortably. To remind ppl of my life, and to apologize for where I am not most prominent and may suck at show casing things for. 

I probably will make a more positive post in the future about how everyone has helped me through so much -- like I am just a cup that is spilling about and everyone is trying hard to keep whatever is coming out from falling on the floor--s uch a silly analogy but really.

I am so thankful as much as I am apologetic.

Thank you guys for giving me a home where I most need it. It is why I want to be open and communicative. I want the place I come home to, that I enjoy and need to cope through things going on. To remain okay, to be alright, and that positive energy can still be shared.

And that I want to with all my heart, continue giving that positive energy to anyone around me the best that I can. With you understanding me as a person.

Thank you, if you have read this far. For taking the time to get to know me.