#no amount of logic seems to be able to make our brain not freak out over this and make me have panic attacks because of it

[thethingything]

our current dilema is that the pain from our wisdom tooth keeps getting so bad we have to take pain meds (like it keeps hitting an 8/10 for several hours at a time. we can't not take pain meds) but the only pain meds that touch it have a warning on them saying not to take them for more than 3 days in a row, and we have at least another month of dealing with this, so I don't really know what to do.

the warning is because they're opioids and can cause addiction but I don't actually know how bad the risk is because everything seems to treat it like opioids are the worst thing ever and should be avoided at all costs and you'll get addicted if you so much as glance at them.

either way, my options are to either keep taking them and just accept that risk, or deal with being in so much pain I can't function. even with taking the pain meds I can tell we're a lot more irritable and short tempered and probably just insufferable to be around honestly and I hate the fact that pain causes this, but once again we've got to deal with this for over a month and we've also got to deal with the anxiety over what the treatment for it is going to actually involve.

I've had to deal with medical trauma stuff I didn't even know about until like yesterday when Lucy suggested it might be part of why I feel so shit, and I've had multiple panic attacks per day and constantly feel way more anxious than usual and I get the feeling we're just gonnaa have to put up with this for the next month and I don't know how the fuck I'm meant to cope with any of this

[ornamental-coral]

Do you have houses combos you love besides Snake Bird ?

Hi sorry it’s take me so long to get to you ‘nonnie human you. I promise if anyone sends me questions, I will get to them eventually! It just takes a while for me thinking about them, researching about them (doing Birdy Bird things with even a one-sentence question...), forgetting I have a sort-hat-chats centered tumblr account (which is... can sort of a Bird thing but also a me thing), and then coming back so we are here (there. somewhere)

I myself am a Snake-Bird. I think I’m pretty neat. Birds are usually very good at entertaining themselves. I think. And I’m lucky I like myself enough because I spend a lot of time with me haha.

I’m a little in love with a remarkable amount of Lion primaries, Snake secondaries and Bird primaries (especially with a Snake secondary to make them extra hard to hold onto *rolls eyes) and apparently I love writing Badger Primaries? I guess I find the challenge of building an “ideal” society that is willing to address the current failings of our timeline a worthwhile challenge and my ink-children rise from the ether to meet me.

I’ve expanded below bar because this is actually a really interesting concept to me - how does a particular house combination react to the others. Below is just my meandering through how specifically My Snake Primary Bird secondary might react on a surface level to the other house types. This doesn’t mean I’m right. There are as many ways of acting within the house system as there are human beings and keep in mind, this is all in good fun.

____________________

Lions

The Idealism of the Lion Primary is something that I find admirable. I posted a more extended musing on the position of Snake Birds within media here. I think the Snake in me understands that when you pick up a person the way Snakes do, you pick up a lot of their wants and regrets too. Snakes pick up People, so that means the whole package. A Lion with a worthy cause can be a very attractive thing to a Snake, who will follow and support them in a very specific kind of way. 

With Double Lions, and Lion Snakes there’s that urge to run after them with a fire-extinguisher in one hand and a big stick in the other - one to put out the fires a Double Lion inevitably lights and the Lion Snake may try purposefully to stoke, and the other to beat off anyone who dares to tell your Lion that they cannot Be A Lion. That’s something only the Snake can do, and that’s only because no matter what the Snake says, the Lion is still Their Person warts and all and the Snake Bird knows damn well what they were getting into, or at least thought they did.

Lion Birds house-match secondaries with Snake Birds but can have explosively different moral codes, largely because they method match. I personally find some Lion Bird characters a little grating because as the audience, I feel I’m getting the same information as the Lion, but as a Snake I have a little too much self-preservation to imagine myself doing anything much about it - at least not the way a majority of Lion Bird characters act - or I come to different conclusion. I also hate conspiracy theories because they require leaps of logic the my Bird model typically just can’t tolerate but the felt-house Lion will participate in. However, Lion Birds can also be the hard-boiled PIs, the Best-at-their-Job secret agents (hi Agent Coulson), the one who has Seen the World and Still Believes It Can Be Saved. So that’s admirable and fun.

Lion Badgers are sweet but my Snake Bird goes “fires, fires everywhere”. And like, not the kind your Lion Snake might think is funny when the Snake Bird tries to put them out. Think Steve Rodgers. MCU Steve has a really strong Snake Performance though when it comes to Bucky which MY Snake finds really confusing because it is So Strong I’d be willing to be money he would have at least tried to find a better way to get rid of the Tesseract if Bucky hadn’t fallen from that train and been declared KIA. I think that particular type of Snake performance also confuses Tony, which is part of why Civil War was the way it was.

But yeah, a fire that a Lion Badger wants to light? it’s not going to go out. For a Snake, having that as Your Person means you either really ride or die for them - and might actually literally have to die, or you are keeping them from burning themselves out before they accomplish whatever they’re doing. For a Snake Bird? this is alarming as hell and it’s a fight between the Secondaries to make sure the Lion takes care of themselves as part of the Lion’s “hard work” Badger, if they’re your person.

Birds

Bird primaries will “build” the people they love into the way they see the world. As a Snake, I think this is just really appealing to me? Snakes are loyal, and older Snakes have the life experience to realize that - painful as it is - this loyalty will not always be reciprocated in the way you hope for (this is the stereotypical bone of contention between Lions, Badgers and Snakes. Lions are focused on their cause and if the Snake’s protective instincts get in the way of that, that causes problems It also hurts when a Lion’s mission supersedes their affection for their Snake people. Badgers’ concerns are for their communities and the split of attention can drive the individually focused Snake crazy). If you get built into the Bird’s world, that always felt like something special and something that took hard work, which made it all the more valuable.

My Snake Birds also likes to imagine it’s equipped to learn to the things that a Bird variety believes in and address those things. It’s the kind of relationship that has the potential to go very wrong, and I do realize that. I think Snake Birds have the tendency to want to be everything for Their Person (or people) and our powers of observation mean that we take it a little personally when we’ve missed something. I’m tempted to call Kaz Brekker of Six of Crows a Snake Bird and it drives him to distraction that he can’t be everything, everywhere, all at once to the handful of a people he truly and deeply cares about.

The Bird Snake in particular house matches in a way that can be particularly challenging and attractive to a Snake Bird? A Snake Bird’s tool is, well, the Bird, and the whole persona can feel ridiculously pleased by being able to “pin down” the Bird Snake, which does not necessarily lend itself to being pinned. There’s also this strong urge to understand the Bird Snake. 

So there’s the Snake secondary who delights in finding new ways to be, and a Bird Secondary delights in learning new things. The discovery element in that relationship can, as long as the Bird Secondary is not stifled by the Snake Primary’s concern, actually be really rewarding. Birds, and Bird Snakes in particular are also often really unique. They think differently, act differently, can be off putting to certain types of house combinations because their moral code can come off is so blue-orange, and is Built on top of that. Snakes take great pride in being very “this is my Person and their brand of weirdness is just another thing I love about them. And on top of that, I Know them.” with their people in any situation, and if a Snake can eventually prove to their Bird Primary that that feeling is unwavering, that’s a relationship that becomes central to both Snake and Bird.

That isn’t to say Birds can’t go dark, but usually they learn to be that way given Birds are evidence-gatherers. Unfortunately, this means I love them too because people of my generation and all generations before and hence have a thing for characters with trauma (see Loki, greasy prince extraordinaire).  It’s -- it’s never not been a thing. Take a look at freaking Gilgamesh, which is the oldest things that we know of, look at Enkidu, and tell me he wasn’t your favorite. Gilgamesh is kind an arschloch of highest proportions. As a more palatable example of this Bird-villain thing, I sort of suspect Bucky Barnes is a Bird of some flavor. If he killed one person as the Winter Soldier, he’d feel bad but probably admit it was the brain washing - but he did it dozens of times. He wonders what does this say about him? He is possibly a Badger, but even pre-winter-soldier he doesn’t seem to care on as wide a scale as a Badger typically does. Steve is Built into the fabric of his world, and he doesn’t react to Steve’s death the way I expect a Snake to either. Maybe a really Old Seasoned Snake and I mean technically he’s old? but the cryogenics thing sort of means he’s not old enough to just let it go. He also doesn’t follow the boy from Brooklyn for reasons I would expect from a fellow Snake but I guess the new show might give more insight on that once I actually watch it.

Badgers

Okay, I like writing Badgers. [Leans back on chaise lounge] this probably has something to do with my mother.

Really though. I model Badger because my mother, although I love her and I’m really lucky to have her, is a teeny tiny bit horrified by Snake tendencies and drilled into me the morality that it is okay and it is above all Good to care about other people (for other Snakes, read Yes Even Strangers). To be fair, the prioritizing that Snakes do (which can get as focused as ”My people first, even if someone else far away is in trouble and I am acutely aware of it”) can seem pretty horrific to a Badger. They don’t necessarily get how you could believe everyone is a person and just... not care. And it’s hard to convince a Badger (for whom not acting can = they are not worth it) that you know exactly what you’re doing but are also aware that if you try to help everyone your head will explode because you can’t keep that many People up there. It’s why Snakes have their rings of caring.

But the result is that for me, Badgers are usually the ones left standing at the end of the story. If they’re done dirty, I like to try and fix it.

I don’t like how media treats Badger primaries generally though? There’s often something “goofy” or the Badger is treated as soft in a really unpalatable way. I mean, and to be fair this directly comes from the way a Snake can sort of be flummoxed with the way Badgers just do things for strangers, yes Badgers irl may be considered gentle. On an individual level, they are often the hearts and hearths of groups and homes.  But there’s this weird place where The State is supposed to be a Badger-shaped institution, so that uneasy balance comes out in weird ways.

I don’t remember who said it, but the difference with Badgers and Snakes is that, with a Snake, you start out at Zero. You’re human, but you’re not the Snake’s human, so I will treat you like a human, but there are My People above you. And with a Badger, you sort of start out at like 85-100%? At least this is my perception. Badgers need-base and that off-balances Snakes.

A Snake with a Badger in my opinion needs to be “eyes open” in a different way than even a Snake with a Bird does, because the Snake needs to understand that the Badger is going to look and act similar - until they don’t, and then the Snake needs to be able to put aside the part of them that was attracted to the mirrored morality and actually work with the Badger to figure out what the Snake needs and how the Snake can in turn support the Badger.

Anyways though, I’m writing a thing where a Badger Bird-modeling-Badger is the last woman standing, committed to fixing a broken type of organization that her Snake, Bird, and Lion companions are Tired of. Lady Badger is nothing if not resilient. I’m writing another thing where a really really Burnt Badger man gets a safe place to learn to be part of a community that is meant to be mutually protective again (he dies because this is a fan work and that’s what happened in cannon, and this is arguably because he’s still unburning at that stage and doesn’t Have a proper community, but I hope to show him having at least Some happy times because in the sh**show show he didn’t have any at all). I’ve got a slightly less developed thing where a number of Badger performing princes learn to work together to fix their kingdom and unbury the history that created it. 

Aaand It’s nearing midnight, I have clearly lost the thread of the thread or whatever

Goodniiight to all my houses. Love you all even if I didn’t write about you here.

-Ornamental

[residentlesbrarian]

The Fourth Book I Read In the Dark: Of Expectations and Other Relatabilities

Of Gryphons and Other Monsters by Shannon McGee

Hey, guys, sooooo...this is aaaawwwkward. I wrote 95% of this review when I wrote the other Books I Read in the Dark series for the blog, but the ADHD hit me and COVID was still you know...a thing! So I am gonna post this review, finished of course, OH, but also pay extra close attention to the conclusion alright! Hmm...this is a bit like a time capsule...here are my concentrated thoughts from 6 months ago while I was slightly delirious on books and darkness. So go forth and uh yeah this one is...you can just feel the feral “I haven’t had access to proper internet so I’ve been curled in the corner like Gollum with my books” energy coming off it so...enjoy?

Okay, so yeah, I really didn’t have a reason to end my last review that way I just wanted to, so sue me for injecting a little excitement into a series of posts about me literally sitting in my house reading nonstop for 2 ½ days, my reviews my rules. Back to manufacturing my own excitement shall we!

It’s Day 2! I’ve just finished my last library book, whatever will I do! I could always reread The Neverending Story for the 1,273rd time, but I have a need. A need for GAY! I rack my brain, there has to be a solution. My town is without power, my local library won’t be open, but then it hits me. It’s so simple! It’s meant to be really! Like the universe knew this was coming and it made sure I was prepared! Like a prepper stockpiling mental SPAM for my stimulus needing ADHD riddled brain! I have an entire shelf of books that I haven’t read yet! Way back in Clexacon 2019 my best friend (Lookin at you @justalifelongphase) gave me way too much money from missed birthdays and Christmases all at once before the con started because the world has deemed it impossible for us to live geographically close to one another. Anyway, I went a little book-buying-crazy and have not had the time or opportunity to read any of them since then. Their time has finally come!

I figured after going full whimsy with The Lost Coast and sci-fi superhero with Dreadnought and Sovereign why not take a dip into more traditional fantasy, also this one was first in line on the shelf, yay for not having to actually make a decision! No more dawdling, let's get right into the review!

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Taryn always loves and hates gryphon season. She finds the lesser gryphons more cute than anything but the ever present fear that a greater gryphon might be just out of sight is terrifying, and this gryphon season proves to be the one that will change her and her families lives forever! Just let a girl herd her sheep in peace!

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review:

I genuinely enjoyed this book. It took me a bit longer to get through it than the others, but I think that was a combination of three things: A. I was starting to feel the fatigue of reading so much in such a short amount of time. B. Our local Wal Mart had power restored on Day 3 and our entire household went on a trip to buy non-perishable food stuffs and I was like a solitary confinement prisoner being let out into the yard for the first time in months when my phone picked up a wifi signal and it was a bit hard to get back into the swing of reading after talking to other humans, even virtually, that weren’t imaginary or in my head. C. Our power was finally restored on the afternoon of Day 3 so yet again I was inundated with the draw of technology and all of my friend-os I hadn’t talked to, but the book had drawn me in enough I did the most unmillienial thing and left my phone in a different room to charge while I finished this book before going back to the land of technology and interwebs. That should tell you something.

McGee was able to write this story in a way that pulls you in so you care about what happens to these characters and this little mountain town. You learn just enough about the world to understand where they fit within the overall weave of it, but you aren’t given a Tolkein-esc dissertation on the world lore. I felt the worries and the fears. I was concerned when the routines had to change. I mean she made me care about the freaking sheep! Sheep, people! One of the reasons I think this works so well is we are so firmly rooted in the head of our protagonist, Taryn. Imma use that lovely bridge I just built to skip right on over the plot section of the review to get to the characters first, don’t worry we’ll circle back round to the plot. I always do, but I just wanna talk about my newest set of brain babies.

Taryn is a character that, if the title of this post is anything to go by, I found very very relatable. Now I know relatability can be pretty subjective, some people can latch onto something with the all consuming, “It me!” While others just stare on dead eyed not understanding the appeal. I feel like Taryn could be that kind of protagonist. You are either going to really relate to her or you won’t understand where she is coming from at all. I obviously fall in the former category. I was the quintessential middle child, still am really, though my relationship with my parents has shifted now that I’m an adult. More mutual respect and friendship than parent to child. I always did my best to pick up the slack, if ever there was any, and just tried my best to be as little of a burden as possible to my parents. I see so much of that aspect of myself in Taryn and how she sees her place at the farm and even in the town, she has her place and her role, but those expectations are heavy. One of those expectations being that she will inevitably get married and help take over the farm from her parents and have kids to continue the line. The fact she finds the lesser gryphons that flock near the farm far cuter than any of the local boys that she will eventually have to choose from to fulfill that inevitable expectation is just...sad at best and down right tragic at worst. And her family doesn’t help matters either. They won’t let her forget that she will have to settle down with one of these local boys, a boy who would make a good husband and take good care of her and the farm. She knows that, logically, but she also wants to be in love, like her parents, and she just doesn’t feel like that for any of the boys in town. She doesn’t know how to make those two things line up. It’s a struggle between her head, the obligation of what she has to do, and her heart, what she really wants for her future, to be happy in doing what she has to do. Wow, I went off a little bit there, but this was my long winded way of saying I have never read a protagonist that really captured the utter confusion of being raised in a heteronormative environment without it being drenched in internalized homophobia and fear. Protagonists like this seem to always know something is off but just don’t have the words for it so they just hide it because they know it’s “different” and out of the norm, but Taryn is just livin’ her sheep herding life and ain’t got no time for these boy crazy fools. She knows her mom wants her to find a good boy to court her so she can marry someday but she’s still young. She’ll think about that tomorrow, and she just repeats that ad infinitum. The thought that maybe she doesn’t fancy any of the boys because well...girls...never even occurred to her. It's not how things are done in this small mountain town, not because of homophobia reasons, but just stubborn tradition reasons. We are even told there is a gay couple living in town who are staples in the overall dynamics in town, instrumental even, but the idea of having a lineage, being able to pass your land down is so ingrained no wonder poor Taryn was so in the dark about her own probable gayness till it slapped her in the face. As someone who was raised in a medium sized Oklahoma town...girl I feel you. I was 22 and in the middle of Appalacia, way up in the mountains for college when my gay awakening popped up and said “Hello!” Everything that never quite made sense in my life came into perfect clarity. Not quite what happened with Taryn, but the arrival of Aella surely helped, as pretty girls are want to do. Oh look a segue, good, cause I could talk about Taryn for literal hours and I’ve already gabbed about her too much for this review.

Aella, you smooth motherfucker. Like I wish I could possess a quarter of the smoothness that you do. Like I’m lucky to string sentences together around a pretty girl, but here you are just strutting about being the smoothest of smooth. Honestly, I just...I can’t with you Aella. On a serious note though Aella is a character that served as showing Taryn a glimpse at the world beyond her small mountain town, as much as she had no desire to leave, unlike her brother. Nope, sit down, we’ll get to you, Michael! Oh, we’ll get to you. She’s traveled and has stories from all over and she is fairly open about the fact that she only likes girls, but she doesn’t have land, responsibilities, and a family line to continue. She just gets to live her life the way she choses. And y’all know I am a sap for the hard dark characters that are totally softies underneath that rough exterior. I think Aella was a great foil to Taryn and great at showing her what she could have if she was willing to leave, to stretch what she was allowed to wish for, but of course the biggest issue with her wishing for anything was...Michael.

Michael was such an interesting character. I loved him. I hated him. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to punch him. Again as with the town and the people of the town I was so deep seated in Taryn’s head and feelings that her conflicted feelings about Michael and how he was acting became my feelings on the matter. Not enough to not separate a tad and see what was coming or at least try to predict it as I always do when reading, but emotionally I was right with Taryn the whole way. The one thing that really pushed Michael from just a character I was conflicted about to one I really wanna give a swift kick in the nads to, is that he knew. He knew all about Taryn’s absolute lack of romantic inclinations toward any of the boys in town and her doubts that she would ever find someone to love and marry to take over the farm. He was the only person she confided these fears in and he still selfishly followed his own pursuits with little regard to her or her worries. You sir, are a terrible brother and overall a shit human, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth.

The plot for this book was so embroiled with the characters and their journeys that I can’t talk on it much but the twists at the end and the final climax was very satisfying for me and left me excited to dig into the next book. Also something of note that I didn’t talk about in the character section cause I felt it was dragging on a touch, I really only talked in depth on our three biggest players but there is a very colorful cast of side characters ranging from Taryn’s nervous pony to the boy-who-cried-gryphon neighbor no one can stand to the troupe of hunters led by Aella’s mother to Taryn’s best friend Nia, all of whom play important parts in building that sense of caring about the people of this town and the town itself, which in turn made me deeply care about the outcome of the plot at the heart of the story. And the sheep! The god damn sheep!

One thing I do want to say before my final thoughts is that whoever designed the cover of this book in a genius because as I dug into the story I found myself constantly closing it to spout off about theories of what I thought was happening on the cover and what it all meant, I was kind of reader fatigue delirious for most of those theories but some of them I was right! I might have reenacted the Captain Holt “Vindication” gif IRL just because it felt too good not to. I just love when a “cool” cover turns out to be so much more than that once you’re “in the know”. So yeah, now y’all know to pay attention for that.

My final thoughts on this book are pretty positive. I can tell the author is building us toward so much more, hence the name of the series, Taryn’s Journey, and it feels like it. This is only the beginning and I honestly can’t wait to take the next steps with her.

Queer Wrap-up:

Hey it’s me from the future...present...whatever...so, this is when I stopped writing the review six months ago and there is a reason for that. I, kind of, agonized over what to rate this book on the scale. Multiple times having to call my brother and go back and forth just to then repeat the same arguments with myself as soon as I got off the phone. Now why was this such a hard terrible no good awful back and forth well...SPOILER WARNING...seriously anything past this point will be spoiling some character beats for the majority of the book...okay? We understand one another. DANGER ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE...or you know scroll on.

So, Taryn is never confirmed to be queer in the text of this book. Now you would have to be wearing the tightest hetero goggles in known history not to see the heavy HEAVY subtext saying THIS BITCH GAY! It’s basically a full grown elephant painted sparkly rainbow trying to hide behind a dead shrub aka not hiding at all. I so desperately wanted to give this book four of those darling unicorns but in this rare case I just don’t think I can justify it. We have a protagonist that is still figuring herself out, which is amazing that we get to see that and go on the journey with her. Some of the things Taryn does and thinks are queer coded as hell, especially if it involves Aella who is explicitly gay on the page, but Taryn herself never express whether she herself is queer. Which, fair, other really important and traumatizing things were going on and I love that about her as a character, she didn’t meet Aella and suddenly that was all she could think about. Aella, of course, is representation who I’m counting because even though she shows obvious interest (you smooth motherfucker) in Taryn she is so much more than just a love interest and her character isn’t just boiled down to her sexuality. Now in this wrap up I’m also including the doctor and his husband in the town. They are very minor characters but they give us interesting insights into the town and the people. They are accepted and treated well in town even if some do almost, pity isn’t the right word, but they seem sad that they won’t be able to have any kind of legacy or lineage. As I said in the review it’s not homophobia it’s being stuck in your ways and it’s an interesting take.

Links:

Shannon McGee Website

The Storygraph

Okay so this one is a bit of a mess. Pieces of it were written 6 months apart and most of it was written while I was kind of delirious but hey at least I can say it’s honest. I still stand by everything my past self wrote and I still really enjoy thinking and talking about this book and am excited for whenever I get around to reading the sequel to continue on Tayrn’s journey with her. This is a book I probably would never have known even existed without ClexaCon and trolling through artist alley for literally every table that had books on them. I guess, moral of the day is maybe you won’t just find great books on library shelves but on unassuming convention tables too and it never hurts to look. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

Oh bet you thought this post was over. I did the sign off and everything but oh no no! I have some info and such to impart. I am WELL AWARE these reviews have been fairly inconsistent to down right sporadic. Well, this is just a little info dump letting you guys know I am gonna be putting up one more review after this one that I wrote ages ago and I mean AGES (think years, as in multiple) and just never got around to posting and then the old blog is probably gonna be going through a PLANNED dormancy while some pretty big stuff is coming down the pike. You may notice visual changes and other stuff before anything else is announced but just keep an eye out. To quote the Fates from Hercules, “It’s gonna be big!”

Okay now for the actual sign off, I got shit to do! No one look behind the curtain, it’s a surprise!

[1985keery]

broken - steve harrington.

steve harrington x female!reader

prompt: after 3 years of fighting for her life, steve finally sees how broken she truly is.

words: 2,091

warnings: angst, cussing, mentions of puke, mentions of suicide :( 

The ceiling. It was so pretty, wasn’t it. Maybe it was her drugged mind, but she had never seen a better sight then the starcourt ceiling. The bright lights turned the beige top into a beautiful kaleidoscope. She was memorized. “Woah” she mumbles, her voice strained from the use. “Yeah” he agreed. 

Him. How was it always him? How are they always risking their lives together? It seemed to be something out of a fairytale. Thinking of it made her head hurt. Couldn’t they catch a break? They deserved it. He deserved it.

She subconsciously began to back up into him. He was a comfort for her, always protecting her and things. His tall frame stood above her as she laid the back of her head on his blood stained chest. If she had turned her head slightly, she could’ve felt the way his heartbeat was out of control.

Whatever was in that drug, it was surely doing it’s worst.

“Steve” she whispered. Her stomach was starting to feel rotten. She felt dizzy and unsure if she was gonna make it. It felt as if there was a curse on her or something, like she was due to melt. Her stomach gurgled again, and she started running. 

Working at the mall had it’s advantages, one being the two were able to locate the nearest bathrooms. Her blood stained white chucks squeaked as she turned every corner, She was sure the writing on them had been ruined. Shame, Robin drew such a pretty flower. 

As she heard Steve’s blue sneakers behind her, she felt such a heavy pang of guilt. Why did these things always happen to them? Why did they always have to save the world?

As they finally reached the men’s bathroom, they immediately started puking their lunches into the white toilets. He gripped on to the side of the toilets as she held on to her hair. The small bathroom was filled with the sound of gags and cries.

After a minuet he had finally stopped, grabbing toilet paper and wiping his mouth off, blood and vomit leaving his plump lips. She had finished too, but she just wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand. She was too weak to think logically.

She laid down on the black and yellow checkered floor and put her bruised legs on the red stall. The cold linoleum felt good against her damaged hands.  “The ceiling stopped spinning for me” she said, finally catching her breath. “Is it still spinning for you?”

Even though he could barley see through his swollen eye, he looked up. “Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?” She closed her bruised eyes and smiled, relieved at the thought. “Maybe”

Her heart rate was going down to normal, and reality was finally coming down on her. Her brain was on autopilot, almost. Her motives were controlled by wherever her legs were running to.

But now here she was, laying in a bathroom with King Steve after fighting Russians. Shit.

“How do we always end up like this?” she asked, a sad expression on her face. “Puking in a bathroom?’ 

She laughed even though it burned her cut lip. He always had the ability to make her laugh even under the greyist skies. “No, I mean, running for our lives. Fighting evil. I feel like a comic book character.” 

He gave a soft laugh at her comparison. “Nerd”. She smiled, hearing him tease her was a breath of fresh air. “Virgin” she teased.

“You must still be on the drugs” he laughed. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he had a smirk on his face, considering they had slept together. “Maybe. Ask me something. Interrogate me.” she said, mocking the Russian man. “I’ll interrogate you, sure.” he agreed, stopping to think of his question.

The air was light and it finally felt like they could let down their guard. They never did though, they knew better. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

It was a stupid question, but she still laughed. “Today” she smiled, and she could hear his laugh  “What?” The smile in his voice was evident. “When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw”

“Oh my god” he laughed. There was his silly girl, the one he thought would be gone an hour ago. The one who got her pretty face beaten in by evil Russians. He was so glad she was back to him. “It was just a little bit though” He heard her giggle, and he smiled. 

“Okay, my turn” she said. She got up from the floor and laid her aching back on the stall. She was about to ask a silly question, like if he thought mermaids were real, but she started focusing on her hands. 

There was an equal amount of blood and dirt under her fingernails, and her knuckles were red from trying to defend herself. They would be bruised by the morning. There was blood and vomit on her shirt, she had a black eye and a bleeding nose, a gash on her forehead and every muscle in her body was aching. She looked like a walking pity party.

However, she was nothing compared to Steve. The poor guy couldn’t even see out of his right eye and there were cuts on all his face. She felt her stomach drop and got a quarter sized lump in her throat. 

“Do you think it’s even worth it?”

It was barley a whisper, but he heard it. “What?” He asked softly, noticing the mood change. She put her head in her lap, wanting to shrink as much as she can. She was tired of being seen, of being the one always saving the day. She wanted to curl up in a hole, where the villains could never hurt her again.

Every night there was a new nightmare. 

She couldn’t escape, everywhere she turned there was a new battle waiting to be fought. She felt angry. It wasn’t fair, she was only 19. Hell, she was just 17 when she fought the demogorgan with Jonathan and Nancy.

Even the cool flooring felt like fire to her, As she dug her fingernails into her palms, she shrunk deeper. “Y/N” Steve called, knocking on the wall. His heart started to race at the silence. “Did you OD over there?”

She lifted her head from her lap and wiped her tears, though there were more forming. “Nope. Still alive, somehow”. Her voice sounded so broken, and so scared. She dropped her head back into her lap

Steve slid under the stall, now sitting opposite of her. “Y/N” he said softly, taking her small hands into his rough ones. “Come on baby, talk to me”

Raising her head, Steve frowned at the tears on her cheeks. “Do you think it’s worth it, Steve? Risking our lives, being heros?”

He had never really thought about it. I mean sure, he had nightmares too, but life went on. It never occurred to him that it didn’t for her, that she was struggling. I mean, she would flinch at a lot of things and refused to walk in the dark, but now he realizes it was deeper then that.

“Well, yeah. The world needs heros” he spoke carefully. There was a fire in her chest, and that was the gasoline. “It’s not fair, Steve!” she yelled. Her usually small voice boomed through the bathroom. 

“Why is it always us? It’s not fair! I just wanted to be a normal teenager! But now I can’t sleep, can’t go to parties, and I can’t even put up Christmas lights!” her hands had began to shake from anger, but she was far from done,

“I’m fucked Steve! And I can’t even go to therapy, because they’d think I’m crazy! And Lord knows I can’t talk to my parents. Jesus, everyone gets to have this normal life, but we’re fighting demons once a year. They have no clue about demogorgans, or demo dogs, and- and- a-and they’re happy! I don’t even know what true happiness is anymore because I’m always fucking paranoid!

Angry tears had slipped down her cheeks. She was sobbing at this point. Quiet whines came out of her mouth. A shaky breathe, And her head was back in her lap. 

Steve laid his bleeding head back. She was right. Absolutely right. The air was thick, and it felt like it could suffocate them.  He felt so sorry for her. He grabbed her hand and put his chin on her knee. The yellow lights of the bathroom gleamed down on them. The hopelessly damaged kids.

“I had a plan, y’know” she said, as the silence broke. She licked her lips and sniffed. “At 17, I had a plan. I was gonna graduate, hopefully valedictorian. I was gonna go to Indiana State, get a job and an apartment, and I was gonna get the hell away from here, Have a family, a normal family, and a life for myself”

Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers came to her mind. It wasn’t fair to them either, how they ended stuck in Hawkins again. Nobody deserved to be stuck here.

He took a moment to process her words. He had a plan for himself at 17, too. One that involved Nancy Wheeler and a white picket fence. Now, thinking of it made him shiver. Looking at the girl who was in his plan now, he sighed.

“And at 18?” he asked. She clenched her first and rose up, unshed tears in her eyes. He watched her throat move as she swallowed. ‘I didn’t think I’d be here at 18″

He squinted, and it was clear to her that he didn’t understand. She squeezed her eyes shut, fearful of his reaction. Surely he would think less of her, he might even treat her with pity. 

“But, we survived the demogorgan” the innocent man said.

“Steve”

It was so painful. Having to tell her lover her darkest secrets. She was afraid the bright shades of red and pink around their love would now be black and grey. Steve didn’t deserve her, she thought. He deserved a girl like Nancy Wheeler, or like Tammy Thompson. Someone who wasn’t completely and utterly broken. 

“Yeah?” God, it still wasn’t clicking. She couldn’t say it, she had tried, but the worlds simply could not leave her mouth. So she said it with her eyes.

And then he understood. 

Something in his eyes had changed, and he finally saw how broken she really was. He always thought she was beautiful, but now he saw every detail of her face. He saw the frown lines and the eyebags, and the hurt in her eyes. “Oh” he mumbled.

This was it, she thought. He was gonna call her a freak, or an idiot. The two never made them selves official, but they knew, Everyone knew. “Holy shit”

Her heart was beating again, for the millionth time that day. “Yeah. Holy shit”

She didn’t look at him, too afraid of seeing his expression, but he couldn’t look away from her. His sweet, sweet girl. How stupid he was, to not see how she was feeling. It was his job to make sure she was okay. He felt as if he had failed her. “You OD over there?” she asked, trying to break the tension.

“No” he answered. “Just thinking”. She nodded and felt another lump in her throat. Her fingernails had left inprints in her palms, and she was desperately trying to not cry again.

“I had a plan at 18 too” he said. She finally pulled her eyes to him, “I was gonna join the circus.” 

She certainly was not expecting that. “What?” 

“I was gonna join the circus” he said, smiling, “I’d be one of the clowns, or maybe even the ring leader” She finally laughed again. “Why.... why was that in your plan?”

“I thought it’d be cool, and I’d look hot in a rainbow wig.”  He was rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand, and was relived to see the soothing action was working. She laughed as she said. “You wouldn’t dare mess up your precious hair, Harrington. I on the other hand would make a excellent acrobat”

“Please, you did gymnastics for what, 6 months? And then what happened” They were both smiling now. “My ankle healed!” she defended, as they both laughed. 

The doors burst open and suddenly Robin, Dustin and Erica were in front of them. “Seriously, what the hell” Dustin yelled, clearly pissed. The two only looked at each other and laughed again. Steve stood and reached out his hand. “One more battle?”

Her smile dropped a little, but she took his hand anyway. “One more battle”

[miniwolfsbane]

JWCC Sammy Gutierrez and body positivity

THIS IS VERY LONG! (I just have a lot of feelings!) Also, this is personal and doesn’t talk a lot about Sammy and is just one big rant. 

Comment I wrote on the S2 preview “Also, shout out to the creators for making Sammy heavy, but it not effecting or having anything to do with her character. OR have her be obsessed with food. I'm sure other 90s kids remember the fat kid trope. Not doing fat logic, but we've come so far from the old days! As a woman who had that kind of body type growing up (had skinny friends, developed early, etc. it all was uncomfortable for many reasons. Long story.), it's amazing to see this kind of...semi-body positivity that's quiet and unspoken in a show aimed at everyone, including girls.  If I had seen this character at 13, my mind would've been blown. Kudos!!”

I’m reeeally tired and getting to that point where I get emotional about stupid stuff. However, this isn’t that stupid...maybe? 

We’ve reached a milestone, a kind of apex in American society, where being fat is no longer a running gag and it’s celebrated to be thick and/or a healthy weight. (Not to say skinny isn’t cool and it’s sure as heck better than carry 90+ pounds if it can be helped, but, as I said on Youtube, lots of 90s fat tropes were had, were they not? Every body type has their problems, blessings, and issues.) But, health is also a big issue and losing weight is too. I’m all for losing weight, but I also know what it was like growing up a fat kid, then a fat teenager in the 90s and 2000s when we didn’t have representation and people like Tocorra Jones, Melissa McCarthy,  Ashley Graham and Rebel Wilson around to promote different body shapes and/or being a little heavy or curvy while still being healthy. (Melissa and Rebel have lost weight and I applaud them full circle!)

Anyway, It is downright uplifting to see Sammy in JWCC like this! Being “thicker” than her two female friends doesn’t slow her down or hinder her in anyway. She is not obsessed with food. She is not constantly eating. Likewise, she has an actual personality and an interesting secret and backstory. The fans seem to love her. She is not dressed immodestly and she doesn’t seem to have ANY negative opinions of her body type, for now. Likewise, in a fast paced show like this, no one is talking behind her back about her weight or eating habits (again, for now. This could change in upcoming seasons, we don’t know.) Come to that, she’s fairly intelligent and isn’t dumb. Like, how many times have we seen a fat, dumb person in a show. (I’m looking at you Chris Griffin and Cleveland Jr!) This could’ve gone SO SIDEWAYS in her character creation any number of ways and I’m just amazed it didn’t. However, this maybe is attributed to the show being an action show and not a comedy? In any case, I’m so glad girls of this generation can see it. I wish I’d had it at their age. (It’s probably because her VA is heavy, but heavier than how Sammy is portrayed, to my knowledge. I’ve only seen her years ago on Disney channel.  Who cares why? It happened and I’m glad.) Please be assured, I’m NOT trying promote fat acceptance, just inclusivity, relatability, and representation. 

Like I say all the time, I’m not super heavy. I never was. As I said in the comment, I developed early and had mostly skinny friends growing up. I remember being about 11 and hosting my first sleepover and someone pointing to my arms at my stretch marks, asking what they were. I wasn’t traumatized and they didn’t tease me, but I was a little (a lot?) self-conscious. Like, can we please get the idea out of our head that ONLY pregnant women get stretch marks?? (Cocoa butter companies, hello?!) They can happen to girls that grow tall fast or, like me, you can have them all freaking over because the puberty button in your brain got stuck. (LOL?) And calling them cute things like skin lightning doesn’t really help. My limbs and body still look weird.

I don’t remember seeing many characters shaped like me in shows as a kid or teenager.  Unless maybe Simpsons characters with their pudgy bellies who may be some of the most average, realistic bodies in all of fiction, really. We can’t all be supermodels and body builders. Sailor Moon girls were all thin and leggy. None of the Magic School Bus kids were pudgy, all average and healthy (which is probably a good thing in a way. IDK. Representation is great, but so is promoting healthy eating and healthy shapes. Everything has their place.)  Disney characters were mostly animals at the time, and I didn’t see Recess until Highschool or something at 3 am, and even then, there was only Mikey. Mikey was progressive, but he wasn’t female. Closest I got was Ariel’s (Little Mermaid) sister, Adella ( https://littlemermaid.fandom.com/wiki/Adella) and even then, she had no belly and never animated the same outside of the series with not much character development or anything.

Cassie from Animorphs might’ve been a close second, but, though she was my favorite female character as a kid (not anymore), it was hard to say “OMG, she’s shaped like me!” as it was a book series with few visual aides outside of covers, posters and some toys. 

I remember seeing the singing group Cherish for a few seconds on TV once. A bunch of thick, busty, heavy black girls and I was SO EXCITED because for those few seconds on TV, there were girls that looked like me! Then some years later I found out a few of them lost weight and I was like bleh. (I didn’t follow their music or anything, not even sure how I saw them again.) Not that disapprove, health is essential, and I encourage people to lose weight for themselves, but it was nice having some representation. Except health needs to come first. It’s a two-edged sword if I ever saw one.

Don’t get me started on the sheer amount of girls with small/flat chests on TV. (No offense! See above about body types. Again, it’s about representation and seeing someone that looks like you that was not common in the 90s and early 2000s) I’m picky though. I wanted to see more representation, but the minute I saw it, I was not impressed or annoyed. To my better judgement, I saw a few episodes of something I won’t name with a curvy lead. I found her times dressing up as a man unconvincing and confusing because of her body shape. Other times I was, for lack of a better word, slightly appalled at her own size, even though she somewhat looked like me. I know, it makes no sense. Other times, I was mad at Lizzy Mcguire or another show for having skinny characters with A-cups while I was, er, way past training bras and smaller bras by 14/15 when the show was new.

Swearz, I developed (pun not intended!) this weird conspiracy theory that Disney execs have to look at the Star’s mom and other women in their family before casting a girl to make sure she stays thin/average chested for the shows entire run. Outside of one show, all shows in that era had the same thin girl body type. (And not much representation for different races for Disney back then, but that’s another debate for someone to better handle, not me.) 

All that said, my shape was attributed to four things: Diet, genetics, lack of exercise and my mom’s cooking. Not sure how much I subscribe to the “genetics effect body fat theory”, but the “genetics effect body shape” is definitely a thing! And hormones in chicken. My family said all I ever wanted when I was little was McDonald’s chicken nuggets all the time, so I think that had some play in how I turned out. It’s probably too much to get into here, and no one cares about my sob story, so let’s move on.

Sammy is awesome and I hope to see more characters like her from other studios in the future. Every body type needs representation, but every body also deserves to be healthy and nourished.

EDIT: WARNING: THE VIDEO AND  THE FOLLOWING PARAGRAPHS TALK ABOUT ED AND CALORIE RESTRICTION!!

OMAHGAWWWD! I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING ROTTEN IN THE INDUSTRY, Y’ALL!! (Okay, that’s obvious, but you don’t really give it thought in your day to day life.)

The video gives a summary of Jenette McCurdy’s time on iCarly and the horrors she’d been going through in her younger years, which included an eating disorder and restricting calories to an (alleged) 900. Dear lord, that is sickening.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCE1x_chT34

Granted, I would take this with a small grain of salt as it’s from the internet, and undoubtedly, many actresses, probably more than we realize, have ED’s. If they would start encouraging them to be at healthy weights, things like this wouldn’t happen. Frick Nickelodeon and frick the acting industry!! 

So, this was what I was trying to convey. Casting and producers need to find that middle ground. Don’t promote fact acceptance, but do not force your actors/actresses to be stick thin either.  I could go on a huge tangent, but I don’t have the brain power right now. If you have an ED or know someone that does, I strongly encourage you to get help. I’ve been in tight spots like that (I knew of people or knew people), but getting REAL help from a doctor, professional, or someone with a good head on their shoulders is better than hiding it or keeping it secret. Ten years down the line, you’ll be thankful you did and not have regret. No one is perfect, but sometimes you have to fight harder to find a solution and someone that will actually listen to you and take your concerns to heart. 

If I get negative comments, I’ll be deleting this and no one will be able to enjoy it. Think before you type and don’t be a jerk.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

Dreaming Pt.4

Summary: Virgil hates his dreams for showing him what could be. He avoids sleeping at any cost- until it becomes inescapable.

AO3, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Virgil’s powers are stupid. He controls what makes Thomas anxious, and how anxious Thomas gets over any one thing, but he does it to himself too in the process. It’s dumb. If he were truly evil, shouldn’t he, oh he doesn't know, be laughing maniacally in the background instead of shivering on the floor of his room after a nightmare?

Virgil sobs again, convulsing so hard he almost dry heaves against his carpet. He doesn’t remember falling off the bed, but he’s pulled the blankets with him and is hopelessly entangled. His skin burns under too many layers of blankets and sheets and his hoodie and shirt. But he can’t get up, doesn’t have the strength to do anything more than keep the door to his corner of the mind shut tight. Shadows of his power lick at the edges of the doorframe; Virgil can feel them wanting to trickle out and control Thomas, dying to warp his thinking.

This is exactly what Virgil has worked so hard to avoid.

“Stop it!” He thunders, getting enough of his control back to sit up, even as his hood pushes sweaty hair into his eyes and his tears obstruct his vision. His face feels hot and feverish in the way only fear and crying can make it, and his breath hitches up under his ribcage uncomfortably when he yells. He yells anyway. “Stop it right now!”

The shadows flicker and flee, chastised.

“It was just a dream,” Virgil tells the darkness of his room. The words sound even hollower than they did that morning--afternoon? He’s not sure how much time has passed.

Are you sure? Whisper the shadows. Their words reverberate through his skull, making him wince and clutch at his ears. The tears flow again. His lungs won't expand properly. The only thing he can think to do is curl up tighter, but the blankets pull at his limbs and he thrashes, suddenly convinced he’ll never be free again. The darkness deepens around Virgil. How can you be so sure?

He looked so horrified, says a tiny, shining part of Virgil, the part that made all those nice dreams seem possible for so long. Roman would never hurt you if it made him look like that, would he?

Before, when Virgil was in his (somewhat) right mind, those words would have made sense. Now he just garbles out some inarticulate scream and tries not to pass out.

He doesn’t hear his door open, but he does feel it when his fears begin scrambling to get out again; Virgil stops breathing for a moment, concentrates hard, and pulls. They shrink back from the light of the rest of the mindscape, wrangled into dark corners and nooks and crannies, properly scared of his authority over them. He’s getting better at this.

The door closes with a light click and Virgil doesn’t even have time before an arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him upright against the side of his bed. The blankets encase his arms, making it futile to struggle and he must look so pathetic right now, wriggling like a worm, it’s got to be Patton holding him because he’s the only one kind enough not to say anything, or Roman because he feels bad about making this happen even when it’s Virgil’s fault, all stupid Virgil’s fault for having a nightmare that felt real, he can still feel the burning in his gut, the need for more air, his hair is wet his face is wet his eyes are wet he can’t breathe and someone is holding him up--

It’s not Patton. It’s not Roman.

“You are experiencing a panic attack.” Logan enunciates clearly, face exactly three inches from Virgil’s. “I have not previously seen you experience one of this magnitude, nor has Thomas ever had one this bad, so I have come to offer my assistance. I must commend you beforehand, however, on your ability to keep this from Thomas. It was...sneaky. And unexpectedly thoughtful.”

“You--you--” He still can’t breathe, but the tears have stopped, more out of surprise than anything else.

“We must get your breathing under control before we have any more conversation,” Logan decides, and settles, stiff but comfortable, against Virgil’s side. “I have heard that physical contact can help during an attack, but feel free to push me away if you are so inclined. Now, shall we start with counting your breaths?”

The whole situation is bewildering, but it is easy to fall into the familiar experience of in-hold-release, five-seven-eight, so Virgil does. His tears stay away but the breathing is harder to control, after having indulged in the panic for so long. But Logan is patient, and his arm is a heavy, reassuring weight across Virgil’s shoulders. Their knees knock together where Virgil’s are still bent awkwardly inside the sheets and Logan has sat down cross-legged.

Remember what happened last time, say the shadows of his room. Remember. Don’t forget.

I’m not dreaming. I’m not even asleep.

Are you sure?

Virgil’s shivers redouble, his throat constricting, and Logan’s brow furrows. He places a hand on Virgil’s chest and Virgil balks, eyes rounding. Like this, he's almost encircling Virgil, the back of Virgil’s head brushing the other side’s shoulder. He was too warm before, but no it feels like he’s boiling alive but Virgil can’t find it in himself to ask Logan to stop it. What is he doing--

He’s checking my heartbeat, he realizes when Logan frowns again and glances at his watch. Keeping time. He knows my pulse is too fast.

What do you think this is doing to Thomas? That’s why Logic is here to help, right? Do you think maybe Princy will come back and finish the job if you don’t get your heart rate under control?

Stop it, Virgil thinks. It is much harder to stop his fears when he’s the one they’re attacking.

“Is there anything more that I should be doing for you, Anxiety?” Logan asks. His voice is quiet, softer than it has ever been when addressing Virgil--gentle, almost, if Virgil were the type to use that word--and his tone is even and controlled. Exactly the opposite, then, of Virgil.

“Water,” Virgil croaks, and winces when he hears his own voice. It is raspy and broken and terrible to hear. He has been crying for a long time. “Please.”

Logan’s lips twitch at the polite afterthought, but all he does is incline his head and conjure a glass. When Virgil manages to wrest one hand free of the linen prison he’s constructed for himself, it is cool against his fingertips. He almost expects his skin to sizzle upon contact. The air is so still in his room, but he can’t exactly open the door to get some circulation.

He tries to take the glass for himself, but his fingers are weak, and he still isn’t getting air to his brain properly and he almost drops the glass. His other arm is twisted awkwardly around his own back and he doesn’t have the strength to get up and put himself to rights, so Virgil has a split second to resign himself to the fate of being slightly damp for a few hours.

He doesn’t have to, though, because a sure, steady hand folds around his, catching the water before it can fall in his lap. “Careful,” Logan says, but with how gentle he’s being--like Virgil is a newborn colt, which would be aggravating in any other context but makes that small, bright part of Virgil curl up in his chest and shudder pleasantly now--it doesn’t sound like an admonishment.

“Sorry,” Virgil rasps anyway. Just to be safe.

Why is he doing this for you? It’s not like he likes you. Patton probably put him up to it. Or he wants to make sure you don’t hurt Thomas.

Logan shakes his head but keeps his silence and helps raise the glass to Virgil’s lips. His eyes are keen behind his glasses, watching for any sign that Virgil is uncomfortable. His face is tight, lines drawn from how hard Logan is concentrating and his cheeks are--

Virgil splutters, pulling back from the glass with a gasp; it had tasted strangely musty, but that’s not the issue. Virgil’s mouth is probably the origin of that strangeness. There are only a few sips left, thankfully, so he doesn’t make too much of a mess of himself. He feels the other’s bicep tense beneath his head but he’s too busy scrambling back to see Logan’s face more clearly to apologize.

“You don’t have any bags under your eyes,” Virgil says. It must seem like quite the non sequitur because Logan’s brows jump, and he disappears the glass with a wave of his hand. Virgil stammers under the scrutiny. “You--you should have--”

“Not all of us are able to due to the nature of our very beings,” Logan tilts his head in Virgil’s direction, “but I happen to get the optimal amount of sleep every night, hence why I do not have the same shadows under my eyes as you do. Although--and please don’t take this to mean I am prying--but you seem to not be getting enough sleep these days. More than usual, in fact.”

“I--how do you know about that?”

“Irritability, irrationality, sluggish movements, decreased appetite, and trouble concentrating are all signs of lack of sleep,” Logan lists off. He still hasn’t moved very far but Virgil’s body must be uncomfortable to hold like this, all bunched up fabric and jutting bones. “Although it is hard to differentiate these symptoms from those of the nature of who you are, Anxiety, yours have increased dramatically over the past few days to weeks.”

Virgil’s stomach drops even further but there’s something strange here, something his paranoia has latched on to and if he can just figure out why Logan’s face is bothering him so much he could figure it out.

It’s his eyes, whisper Virgil’s shadows. You know it’s his eyes. No one can stay here for so long without getting tired of you, Anxiety. What’s wrong with his eyes?

“You’re not feeling the effects of my room,” Virgil realizes. Every bone in his body is made of lead; he can’t seem to move. Even if he could, where is there to go? “You should be--you should be freaking out right now. Why aren’t you--what’s happening?”

Virgil’s body isn’t listening to him anymore, the panic from before and his new terror rising to wrench his control away. The tears are back, streaming from the corners of his eyes, unbidden, unheeded. Logan doesn’t even react to them beyond a head tilt, a quirk of the lips. Virgil sags against the other side's arm and shoulder, the bedframe digging into his upper back. What is wrong with him? He’s been having trouble moving all this time but not like this, not so much that he can’t even feel in control of his own limbs. His lungs still feel pressure, but it's foggy now, like they’re not a part of him anymore. His brain is cloudy. There’s foam in his mouth.

The water, Virgil realizes, a second before his brain catches up with him. He tries to thrash and twist away from the other’s grip, but Logan just smiles and reaches out to wipe at his chin where the foam is gathering. He tsks under his breath, still smiling but his face is too angular now, too sharp and frightening. Virgil cringes away from those sharp teeth.

“Oh Anxiety,” Logan says, voice too high and sweet as sugar, a tone too saccharine for even Patton. “Don’t you know not to go accepting help from strangers? And here I thought that’s the only thing you were ever good for. I’m sorely disappointed.”

It’s just another nightmare, says that hopeful piece of him, but that too is getting harder to focus on.

Did you even fall asleep this time?

Things are going fuzzy again, for the third time--the final time, some small, dark part of Virgil hopes desperately--but he still has the presence of mind to try to lift his one free, deadened hand and push at Logan’s chest. Anything to get away.

“The only stranger here,” says another voice, too familiar not to be instantly recognizable, “is you. Now if you would kindly unhand my friend here, that would be appreciated.”

It can’t be, Virgil thinks. Logan is sitting right here.

He’d never call you his friend, the shadows agree. They are growing now, filtering in at the edges of his vision, clawing their way across his ceiling and over the bedspread, reaching for his fingertips.

“And what if I don’t?” Asks the Logan holding him, smiling all the while. God, but Virgil sort of wants to punch his lights out.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” says the new Logan, and the stern, dangerous tone of voice almost puts Virgil at ease.

Then the convulsions start and he loses track of things for a while. Stress and shock make waves of tingles flood his body, again and again and again and he doesn’t know what kind of poison he’s ingested but it’s making him weak and disconnected but it also makes his insides feel like they’re being set on fire and liquefied all at once. He can feel more foam coming to his lips and filling his throat and tears wash it away from his face. He thinks maybe his nose is bleeding.

There's a flurry of movement, and at the corners of his eyes, Virgil can see sharp jerks of color, flitting in and out of sight like birds. Someone’s fist, someone’s elbow. A pair of glasses, maybe, flying off into the darkness of his room. But then his vision starts going and Virgil can’t get up the strength to turn around and look at what’s going on.

There are hands on him again and Virgil isn’t sure when he’d been let go in the first place, but these new palms are warm and dry and they wipe away all of the gunk on his face. The weak light in Virgil’s room, dimming fast, glints off of Logan’s glasses. Worry etches plain across his face and there are deep shadows under his eyes.

“Anxiety, can you hear me?” Logan asks, voice urgent and careful. He’s cupping Virgil’s face and his skin is too hot, the waves coursing through him feel like needles now and it hurts so much that his vision greys out for a few seconds. Logan shakes him a little and the colors snap back into place, but his vision is still tunneling. “Anxiety, if you can hear me, I don’t know what's happening but I think you’re hallucinating, or bringing your dreaming into reality or--I’m not sure, I’m sorry, I know it’s my job but just--just wake up, alright? You have to wake up--”

Virgil gasps, reaches one hand up to clench his numb fingers desperately around one of Logan’s wrists, and feels his eyes roll back in his head.

Virgil knows no more.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

In Our Bedroom After The War

[Broadway Kids]

Prompt: “Fuck what they think. I respect you and if they don’t, I’ll break their knees.”

Word count: 2944

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Tommy can’t quite remember when Carrie stopped speaking. Some people said it was in the third grade after she brought that Bible to school and started praying in the middle of lunch, others said after the Christian Youth Camp incident and she swallowed so much water that she “permanently clogged her vocal cords” or something stupid. Whatever happened, something had made Carrie White go silent, and she’s been a target of mockery since.

Deaf and dumb. That’s what the other kids liked to call her. But she isn’t deaf, Tommy knows, because she always reacts to what is said about her with great offense and pain, and she certainly isn’t dumb because Tommy has seen her grades when her report cards are stolen and passed around by bullies. She’s a smart girl, very smart. If anything, he was the dumb one, because the amount of times he’s almost given away their little get-togethers was unbelievable.

It started a month into the school year, he believed. He went into senior year, while Carrie just started high school. He can’t quite remember what caused them to start meeting up in the hidden bathroom under the staircase in the C hall stair well, and he’ll admit that he had never imagined himself hanging out with the city’s resident freak and actually enjoy it, but he would seriously miss their reclusive meetings every Friday after school if they were to ever stop.

Today in particular was very special. 1) because he was finally going to try and teach Carrie about video games (she was fourteen! she should at least know the basics like Pokemon and Mario!) and 2) he had noticed that Carrie seemed a little off the past week and he wanted to ask her about it.

When you saw someone like Carrie White, you would assume that she was constantly in a state of anxiety and depression, but Tommy has learned to pick up on little ticks she does over time. Like how lately, she’s been tugging on her hair and biting her knuckles more often, something she only does if something is really bothering her. Because of their social status in the high school hierarchy, he was never able to ask her if she was alright, so non verbal forms of communication would have to do until their weekly meetup.

There’s the way he tried to avoid letting her out of sight, and if it isn’t that, then it's the way they move around each other in natural synchronicity in the hallway, like celestial bodies that have been caught in orbit for millennia. It's the way he makes excuses to walk alone to class just to make sure she doesn’t get any trouble on the way to her own. It's the silent conversations, an inquisitive look (“You okay?”) answered by a minute nod (“All good.”). It’s everything he wishes he had done for her before his final year of high school.

He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how Carrie would soon be all alone again after he graduates. Tried not to think about what would happen to her when he isn’t there as her silent guardian. Tried not to think about how sad he would be without seeing her every day anymore.

Tommy slipped inside the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible to avoid alerting anyone who may have been lurking around, and turned to face the rest of the space. Carrie is sitting at the sink counter on one of two stools Tommy had smuggled in there for them. She turned her head to look at him sideways, but she’s still got her nose buried in a sketchbook, which she still hasn't let him look at. He wondered what she's drawing. Maybe it's a treasure map. Or a secret code. Or that deer they saw earlier. Or him.

  “The party has arrived!” Tommy has announced, his voice rebounding loudly off of the silent bathroom walls. He dropped his backpack on the floor, unlike Carrie had done, as hers was hung up on one of the hooks on the wall.

Carrie finally put her pencil down and swiveled around completely in her stool to smile at him. She doesn’t show any teeth with her grin, and it’s slightly wry, but it’s a smile nonetheless and Tommy is honored to get such a thing from her. He examined her quickly, luckily finding no new wounds from bullying, then crossed over. She hastily closed her sketchbook.

  “One day,” He said. “One day I will see your masterpiece.”

Carrie gave him an apologetic look, her smile becoming a little more tight. She grabbed a nearby whiteboard to write on, but stopped when Tommy waved a hand.

  “No, no,” He said. “No need for that! I’ve been doing really well in my ASL class- you can sign to me!”

Carrie looked skeptical, but Tommy doesn’t miss the flash of excitement in her warm honey eyes. It’s not often that someone understands her when she uses sign language.

  “Come on, I’m smarter than I look! Don’t doubt my abilities to learn a new language!”

Carrie nodded. She held up her hands, shaking down the frayed sleeves of her shirt, and began to sign.

  “What (something) we (something) today?”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t AS fluent as he thought, but Carrie looked so much more comfortable being able to sign! He could just use his context clues!

  “Something very fun!” Tommy assured her. He took out his phone and turned on a playlist that they’ve been progressively adding more and more songs to (with Carrie having to write hers down and give the list to him, seeing as she didn’t own any electronics). You can tell who added what like this: if it’s Christian related or something grungy-chill, Carrie probably added it; if it has folk music vibes and/or a lot of acoustic guitars, it was probably Tommy, surprisingly enough; if it just generally sounds like it’s ripped from an indie movie, it’s kind of a toss up.

He took out the Nintendo Switch he got last Christmas next and set it up on the sink counter. Carrie tilted her head at it as if it were a peculiar flower that had just sprouted out of the porcelain countertop. 

  “Ever played before?” Tommy asked, although he already knew the answer.

  “No. (something) I’ve seen (something) (something).”

  “You’ve seen it before?” Tommy repeated, guessing just by the way Carrie had pointed to her eyes.

Carrie nodded.

  “Well, now you get to play it!” Tommy beamed at her and she smiled back, but it seems a little forced. Something is definitely on her mind- he’ll have to ask once she’s a little more relaxed. “Hmm… How about Minecraft?”

  “M-I-N-E-C-R-A-F-T. I’ve heard (something) (something).”

  “It’s fun!” Tommy assured her, selecting the game. “Trust me, you’ll like it.” He put the controllers in her hands and she rubs her thumbs over the rubber protectors. “So the main goal is surviving,” He went on. “There's a lot of objectives actually, but surviving is always the first one. Once you get used to it, you can play in Survival mode and start making a good base and start getting tools and armor and stuff, then you can move on to other objectives. But for now you can just play in Creative. What should we name the world?”

Carrie thought for a few moments, and Tommy could practically see all the random names cycling through her brain. After a moment, she signed, “(something)”

Tommy blinked.

  “One more time.”

  “(something)”

  “Can you fingerspell it, please?”

  “V-E-N-U-S.”

  “Oh! Venus! We haven’t learned planets yet.” Tommy said. “Wait- Venus?”

  “V-E-N-U-S (something) (something) (something) cool place (something) live.”

Tommy laughed. “Can’t argue with that logic!” He helped Carrie type in the name and clicked through a couple of other settings before hitting “create world”. Within a few moments the world was up and running. Carrie’s character was off in no time, exploring the blocky landscape and sifting through her colorful inventory, although her movements were sporadic and jerky since it was her first time playing.

Decorating the base was by far Carrie’s favorite part. There were so many different flowers for the outside and wood types for flooring and even COLORED glass. The only thing that would make it better was if you could have animals and OH MY GOODNESS YOU COULD HAVE ANIMALS!!!!!!!!

For a moment, Tommy debated just leaving Carrie there and allowing her to design the base and play around however she wanted, but he couldn't. He was so worried that someone may waltz in and see her in the boy’s bathroom and then do something to her. Carrie being nearly drowned in one of the toilets, Carrie getting her head smashed against the sink counter, Carrie being raped, Carrie getting beaten into a bloody pulp- so many horrible scenarios forced their way into his head. Carrie getting her throat slit, Carrie getting her body stuffed in the air vent, Carrie getting sodomized with a mop stick.

Why? Why were kids so cruel to her? Why couldn’t Tommy protect her from everything? Why does he know he can’t?

There was a soft touch on his hand and he jolted out of his thoughts. Carrie flinched away, too, then signed something he couldn’t understand, but knew she was asking if he was okay by the pinched expression on her face.

  “I’m okay,” He assured her. “Just thinking.”

She made the gesture of “what” and tilted her head. Then she pointed to herself.

About me?

  “Yeah,” Tommy admitted.

That made Carrie’s nose scrunch up in a giggle.

  “Don’t (something) S-U-E know.”

  “If you think that I would cheat on my girlfriend with a fish, then you are very much wrong.” Tommy said. “What about you? What’s been on your mind?”

Carrie put the Switch controllers down and shrugged her shoulders. She began to play with the cuff of her sleeve, not really making eye contact anymore.

  “Come on,” Tommy urged. “You can tell me!”

  “People,” Carrie signed vaguely.

  “People?” Tommy echoed. “People being rude to you?”

Carrie shrugged again, and it was clear she didn’t really want to talk about this anymore, nor did she seem to be in a mood to continue playing. Tommy packed up the Nintendo Switch and paused their shared playlist. He gave Carrie her backpack and they started to walk out of the school in mutual silence.

  “Sorry,” Tommy said as they neared the parking lot. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Carrie shook her head, then signed, “You didn’t. Don’t worry.”

  “Yeah, but-”

  “Well if it isn’t praying Carrie!”

Carrie went rigid, like she had been struck by lightning. She stopped mid-step and didn’t move as a group of seniors trot over, their faces alight with mischief and cruelty.

  “Ross!” One of them called. “What are you doing with this freak?”

  “Is she holding you hostage?” Another guessed, casting a look at Carrie.

  “I bet she’s leading him out to his car to force him to let her ride him.” A third said. The group howled with diseased laughter at that. Tommy is appalled. Carrie looked ill. “Is that it, church girl? The need for sex has finally broken into you and you’re ready to sin?”

  “Back off!” Tommy growled, shoving the boy away. He put himself between him and Carrie, becoming a barricade of sorts. “Leave her alone.”

  “I wonder how loud she’ll moan,” A fourth member of the group mused.

  “Can she even moan?” The second wondered out loud.

  “If you plowed into her hard enough I bet she’ll make some sort of sound.” The first said.

Carrie darted left and sprinted for the nearby line of trees edging the campus. Tommy glared at the group of seniors, then followed, concerned. 

The darkness of the forest quickly closes around them. Carrie is fast on her feet, but Tommy was an athlete and he caught up quickly. He snagged the back of her jacket in a loose grip. They stumbled together over uneven ground and exposed tree roots until Carrie collapsed in a hollow between two moss-covered rocks. Tommy slotted himself in front of her so that she’s shielded from all sides- the rocks and Tommy forming a barrier from the world.

He said nothing. He listened to the girl’s gasping breaths and knew that it’s nothing that words can cure- not anymore. Not after years of having no one, being stabbed in the back and spoon fed lies. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the rustling of oak leaves, the distant calls of birds, the persistent harmony of crickets.

He wondered what Carrie used to ground herself.

He wondered if she grounded herself at all.

Slowly, softly, Carrie calmed to some degree. It comes faster than Tommy expected, but he assumed that’s just because she’s grown used to the treatment she gets. She shifted, wiggling her shoes beneath Tommy’s thigh. Tommy doesn’t shift. He won’t leave until she does.

  “It’s okay,” He finally whispered. “I’m here. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Carrie whimpered and made a sloppy gesture- Why?

  “Because I care about you.” Tommy said. “Fuck what they think. I respect you and if they don’t, I’ll break their knees.”

He wanted to make her laugh or smile or at least stop crying, but Carrie just whimpered again. She swiveled around to face him, eyes flashing with tears. 

  “Why?” She signed again, sniffling miserably.

  “We’re friends.” Tommy told her. “You know that, don’t you?” The look he got said that she didn’t believe it. “Come on. Tell me some things you know about me. You’d be surprised how well you know me.”

Carrie hesitated, then began to sign, “Your name is Tommy Ross.” She winced at how bland it was, but Tommy only nodded, brushing a bit of his dark brown hair out of his eyes. Carrie’s face scrunched up like she’s memorizing her timestaple in front of him, struggling to bring that gridded mess of numbers to mind. 

  “You’re the tallest (something) (something) everyone (something) your team,” She continued. The sky overhead is eye-wateringly blue, with crisply white cotton clouds scudding along the horizon. A light breeze shakes the leaves of a nearby oak tree that has the initials of some high school sweethearts carved into the base of its trunk. They’re a little crooked from where someone’s hand had slipped, the flat of a switchblade arcing a little too close to the bark, and making a J thicker, almost a U when you looked at it dead on. 

  “That’s right,” Tommy said. He knows his role here is only background noise. That’s his job, whether Carrie knows it or not, and he’s more than happy to fulfill it. He doesn’t mind being subject to the scrutiny of befriending ol’ praying Carrie because of it. Not if it’s what she needs to feel better.

  “Your eyes (something) like a (something) green-brown, (something) (something) like slimy algae. You always have (something) stupid red sports jacket on. Your sneakers (something) (something) white, once upon a time.” She managed to tease him, uttering out a tiny giggle.

  “What can I say, Carrie, I’m a filthy gremlin, like all boys are-” He joked, and she swatted him lightly on the arm. She bit back a laugh, and Tommy wished that she wouldn’t- Carrie tips her head back when she laughs, unabashed and on the edge of hysterical, giggling and snorting, shoulders shaking with mirth until she’s brought her gaze back down again, cheeks flushed from the exertion of being host to that much joy despite everything that she’s been through. No one holds the weight of trauma and mistreatment as heavily on their shoulders as Carrie White does- Carrieta, the library to all of those scattered instances of would-be’s-could-be’s-shouldn’t-be’s. And still, there is a smidge joy. It’s beautiful. He thought that she’s most beautiful when she’s laughing (don’t tell Sue, and if you do, make sure you let her know it’s completely platonic. but just don’t tell her at all).

  “You have, like, (something) favorite red shirt, with a light brown hood on it. And S-U-E thinks it’s hideous.” Carrie continued. She’s tapping her foot against his leg, a gentle soothing gesture, and he lets her. He knew that it’s more for herself than him.

  “You have a golden ring (something) onto a necklace.” Carrie signed. “But you don’t wear it (something) you think it (something) you look silly. But it’s really pretty.” Pause, and when she signed again, it wasn't about the necklace anymore. “It’s (something) (something) like having a sibling.” Pause. Carrie looked up at him with glittering eyes. “You’re Tommy Ross.”

The weight that she placed on his name makes his heart stutter, catching in his chest- the warmth that he felt towards her is almost unbearable, and he found himself grinning, mouth gone crooked in the gesture.

  “I’m Tommy Ross, that’s right,” He repeated to her, as if they’re introducing themselves at some shitty college icebreaker. “And I’m not going anywhere, Carrie.” He went on, a touch of urgency in his voice- and she smiles, eyes closing, though hers are more reserved than his, somehow. There’s a tear bright in the corner of her right eye, and it traced a thin path down her face. More come. They pool at her chin, dripping off of her face, and soaking into the softness of the earth. His chest ached.

  “And you’re not going anywhere,” She whispered, voice hitching a little halfway through. He swiped a thumb over her cheek, flicked the tear off into the green grass behind them. 

  “I’m not,” He promised. “I’m not leaving you, Carrie.” And his voice had gone soft, her name cradled gently in his mouth, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.

[kurogabae]

TSUBASA: TRAINWRECK CHRONICLES

And How Bee Train is Single-Handedly Propagating Cancel Culture in This the Year of Our Lord 2020

PART 1 – PART 2 – PART 3 – PART 4 -- PART 5 

[[ join me on PillowFort. i have free invite codes if you need an account ]]

So last post was all filler episodes and we're well into season two of this, and I cannot stress this enough, two season anime. The only canon arc we've had was Piffle so far and it was poorly handled and out of order. Surely, absolutely surely, we are in for a canon arc. Shara perhaps? Skip right to Le Court? We all know they'd never dare touch Tokyo. How are they going to pad out the rest of the season?

Why another filler. A bad filler. The dreaded filler that goes against pretty much all of Fai's everything.

It's "A Date With a Wizard" and Kurogane isn't the one getting the date. If you haven't watched or heard of this episode before, buckle up kids. It's a doozy. And big spoiler warnings ahead.

Fort City Bit AKA Fai Dates His Own Fucking Mom (but like an AU version so it's okay I guess???):

You read that right. Fai goes on a date with this world's version of Chii, who was an artificial being he modeled after his dead mother. I could end the rant here but oh, there is so much to this. So much. It's only one episode long but it feels like an eternity.

The premise for magic use in this world is that:

Everyone has magic and that magic is specialized

Your career path is based on your magic's specialization. Like in MLP with cutie marks. And everyone is Fine with this.

Everyone recharges their magic via the sun, which is risen by their king

The king is chosen yearly after everyone in the country has the same fucking dream one night

The whole country runs on magic, to the point that if there is no magic there is no food, no power, no anything. But that's fine, because every day they get recharged by the sun. Right? WRONG! Because the current king is being a depressed little shit and refuses to raise the sun, effectively dooming the country to a slow death. Neat.

BUT BEFORE ALL OF THAT! The episode opens with Fai having a nightmare about Ashura looming like he's auditioning for a role in Attack on Titan. Vague and menacing, which is literally all we know about Ashura because we know nothing about Fai's past. And we never will. At least not in anime-land. No one knows anything. The manga isn't pulling this fakey flashback shit, so why is the anime? I don't know, but I hate it!

Anyway, the family gets the low down from Touya and Yukito - who still do not recognize Sakura and that upsets me because of the implications that there is no Sakura in this universe. (Sidenote: Kurogane recognizes them, even though he's never met them in the anime so far so honestly, just fuck everything.) While Touya is feeding them a frankly lavish meal that he's magiced up he explained their king problems. This leads to my next issue - if you're so worried about running out of magic why are you using it so flippantly and in such an extra ass way? Can you not make normal food? Does it only exist in magic form? Maybe just summon some soup? Does all food cost the same amount of mana? THIS MAGIC SYSTEM IS BAD!

So, back to the whole the king is too sad to raise the sun which powers everyone's magic which is now beginning to run low. Another problem I have. You get a recharge on your magic everyday. They have not gotten ANY recharges for, and I'm quoting here, months. They change kings every year. So even on the low end of things we're looking at 3-4 months before anyone got concerned about the king just. Not raising the sun. Personally, I would have gotten worried after a few days, a week at most. No one wanted to go and find out like "Hey your highness, why no sun? What's got you down?"

That, however, would be logical. This is a place of magic and whimsy! Not logic. Fai is asked to use his magic to figure out what is wrong with their king. Predictably, he tells them they have a better chance of meeting god, so everyone gets thrown in jail. Because refusing to solve a country's weird problems is illegal. Not that jail has ever stopped them before. Not with Kurogane and his muscles around. And while I am always up for watching Kurogane break things I do have to wonder - why are they not just warping free? Mokona said there was no feather. No one said anything about being magically held back. And yet, they are running through the castle, endangering themselves and the children!!!

Obviously this is For Plot Reasons, and I use the words "plot" and "reasons" loosely here.

Somehow the kitties and puppies get separated and Fai and Sakura end up surrounded by guards. Does Fai finally fight? Does he open that can of whoop ass we all know he's been saving? No. He leaps into the air and takes flight like some sort of stork. And while Fai's current cocky attitude is refreshing, he's working on some sort of idiot bimbo in a horror movie logic of "to escape the building I must do upstairs". This is not a man made to last on his own.

And, like Shrek to Fiona, the stairs lead him to the highest room in the tallest tower. Fai, then, promptly loses his shit as if he's not fully aware that doubles exist across the multiverse. Like, yeah, it would be a shock and anyone would be freaked out at the sudden surprise of it all, but Fai acts like he thinks he's stepped back into Celes. Like an idiot. He's better than this.

Now, we learn more things about this messed up king situation. Not only does everyone have a dream every year electing the new monarch, but the new king gets their memory erased for the whole year so that they can "rule with a pure heart" or some shit. Which seems like a baaaad fucking way to run.... anything. At all. Ever. Might as well pick up a fresh baby and put it in charge. It's bad. And it gets worse.

Chii is sad, but she wants to hang out with Fai and it's the first time she's shown any interest in doing anything but being Sad so her babysitter spirits are all like "Oh that's neat!" And Fai takes this is his chance to just... run off for a night on the town with her? They literally vanish and leave Sakura ALONE IN THE CASTLE WITH THE SAME SPIRITS WHO JAILED THEM. In what fucking universe????

Look, they are trying so so so so so so hard to sell this FaiChii shit. Fai leaves Sakura alone in a castle where they have just busted out of jail, he has no idea where or how Kurogane and Syaoran are, he's clearly uncomfortable around Chii as she reminds him of what he's running from, and, oh yeah, she's a copy of his dead mother he created in another world in order to comfort him and his dead brother as a child. Everything is Fine. Let's go get tea.

I'm gonna rapid fire some S tier bullshit:

no one knows where Chii has taken Fai - why is there no way to track your baby-brained king?

Fai leaves with Chii happily and cheerily, again, leaving Sakura behind and alone - who is this man because it isn't Fai

the only clue they have to Fai and Chii's location is that they are no longer on castle grounds, yet somehow Syaoran knows Exactly Where to Look - because sure why not?

Chii doesn't know how to drink???? - does this happen with every king? do they have to be potty trained too? omg they really are babies this is a terribly way to run a country!!!!!!

teaching someone basic life functions is not romantic but Bee Train sure wants us to think it is

"I want to stay with Fai forever and always." - at least he panics at commitment still... and probably incest

“I should be thanking you. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way.” - What? Uncomfortably reminded of your past and why your life is just shy of a living hell? Who are you? You are not Fai

Kurogane and Syaoran show up to save Fai and Chii, who have been surrounded by guards (I think, I can't remember exactly but I'm pretty sure they're there to take her back to the castle and her Sad Room). Fai apparently won't fight in front of Chii but whatever at this point.

It comes out that Chii is an artificial soul/being (like the Chii in Celes) and because of that she cannot leave the town or she DIES and that means the king dies and I guess they don't have a back up plan for that. Unsurprising but bad. Still, Chii begs Fai to take her away and show her the world and Fai like... hesitates? Thinks about it? Considers it?!?!? I dunno but he doesn't automatically say "Uh no, you'll die and also I have other shit to do, bye" and that's dumb for a lot of reasons.

Eventually he tells her no and convinces her to bring the sun back and be happy because she'll be able to remember him or some shit (you know, unless they take those memories too!) and  they all say goodbye. And I couldn't be more thankful.

Honestly, the real MVP here is Kurogane for not just losing his shit at all of this like I have. He's a better man than I.

Tune in next time as I continue to scream, in vain, at god.

PART 1 – PART 2 – PART 3 – PART 4 -- PART 5

[ionlyeatcomfortfood]

A Boy Worth Fighting For- Part 1

A/N: So, my brain came up with another idea so here we are. I need to work on impulse control. And it turned out to be a lot of angst. Oops.

Also it might seem like Logan’s experiences are extreme, which they are, but a lot of the stuff that happens to him in his exposition is what has happened to me and my friends. So.

And I know I keep having parts to the story then they never update I’m sorry I’m working on it.

Also funny thing, when I was using a last name generator to come with names, ‘Gay’ came up and I was like: yep. that’s them.

Word Count: 1156

Pairing: Romantic LAMP

Warnings: Negligence, bullying, verbal abuse, The Duke/Remus, Deceit, homophobic language, violence

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

You’re only supposed to have one soulmate.

When you are born, there’s a tattoo that represents your soulmate somewhere on your body. When you meet them, the tattoo starts to tingle and it changes into a vivid masterpiece. Everyone has is in a different spot, and no two tattoos are the same.

When Logan Sanders was born, he had three soulmarks.

His family was not happy. They thought that having multiple soulmarks made him unclean, dirty. They thought he was wrong.

But, they couldn’t get rid of the boy, so they just acted as if they had gotten rid of him. To them, Logan did not exist. He was just a whisper, never truly there and gone within a moment.

Because of this, Logan had to grow up incredibly fast to be able to take care of himself. He taught himself how to cook. He entertained himself by reading, getting lost in worlds and realities so much better than his own. When Logan was hurt, he put on a bandage himself. He knew unlike other kids, Mommy wasn’t going to kiss it better.

School was difficult. Children have no filter, so when they saw Logan tattoos, they stared and stared, some saying things like “Wait, why do you have more than one?” and “Isn’t that weird?”

Then, as he got older, people started saying things. Awful things, like how Logan was a mistake, or that he should just go away, he was making them uncomfortable.

He didn’t have any friends. Even if they didn’t agree with all the hateful things, they didn’t want to get in the crossfire.

Middle school started, and words were thrown out carelessly and so were punches. Almost everyday he would walk home (yes, he had to walk) with a new injury.

He learned to take it. The scorn. The obvious hatred projected by his peers. The punches, the kicks, the words, he learned to take the hits and survive. He didn’t have friends to talk to, so he kept it all inside. Logan used to cry when he got home, not understanding why having more soulmarks made him a freak. Then the tears dried up and so did his compassion and empathy.

He became cold. Logical. Never portraying any emotion other than an emotional disconnection. No one wanted to have anything to do with him, which is what he wanted.

Right?

—————–

Logan was working on a worksheet in Calculus when he met his first soulmate.

He was almost done with worksheet, a breeze as always, when he heard a vivacious voice say “Hello Mrs. Davids! I’m just here to drop off my homework!”

Logan glanced up to see the most adorable boy ever in front of him.

Curly dirty blond lock rested on his forehead, his face filled with freckles. He had a soft, heart-shaped face with the most dazzling blue eyes. The boy wore a pale blue shirt that complemented his eyes and a pastel pink skirt. How had Logan never seen him before?

Then he felt a little tingle on his chest, where one of his soulmarks were, a simple heart. 

Oh no. No, no, no, this is not happening. Logan thought to himself frantically. I am not meeting my first soulmate in the middle of math class.

The boy obviously was feeling it too. His eyes scanned the room, looking for his soulmate. His light blue eyes met Logan’s dark ones, and Logan knew he was screwed.

“Hey Mrs. Davids?” The boy just managed to pry his eyes away from Logan’s. That did not make him upset I have no idea what you’re insinuating.

“Yes, Patton?” Mrs. Davids asked. Ah. So that was his name.

“Can I borrow Logan for a minute? We have a group project to work on, and I need to talk to him really quick.”

“Can’t you do that on your own time?” Mrs. Davids raised an eyebrow.

“It’s important. And it’ll only take a couple minutes.”

“Besides, I only have one more problem left.” Logan said. Wait. Why was he going along with this? Rationality had been figuratively thrown out the window, so he just followed what Patton had been saying.

Mrs. Davids, not an oblivious teacher, had caught on to what was happening. But she wasn’t going to get in the way of their high school romance, so she said “Alright. Five minutes. Then come back in, Logan. You hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Logan said, following Patton out of the classroom. Nobody gave them a second glance. They were all too concerned with how badly they were going to flunk the next test.

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

As soon as they got into the hallway, Patton literally started jumping for joy.

“Oh my gosh! I have a soulmate! And it’s you! This is all so exciting! We can go on dates and find our other soulmates, and-”

“Patton. Wait,” Logan didn’t believe what he had just heard. His next sentence came out in a murmur, almost too soft to be heard. “You have multiple soulmarks as well?”

“Yeah. We’re soulmates. It would make sense that we have the same amount of soulmarks- Logan? What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re crying.” Patton gestured Logan’s face. Logan put a hand up to feel tears running down his cheeks. “What?”

“It’s okay, Logan.” Patton placed a caring hand on Logan’s arm. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“It’s just… I thought I was the only one. With multiple soulmarks. I thought I was alone,” Logan hadn’t meant to say that. But he did. Why had he said that?

“Oh Logan,” Patton said sweetly, coated with sympathy. He pulled Logan into a hug. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. I’m here for you.”

He felt himself leaning into Patton. What? Why was he doing this? This behavior was highly irregular. He would have to assess this situation later.

Patton finally let go of Logan, saying “You should get back to class.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Logan mumbled. Geez, what Patton doing to him? He didn’t mumble.

Logan turned to go back into the classroom when Patton caught his wrist. “Hey, um,” Patton was bashful, staring down at the floor. Why did that make Logan’s heart flutter? What was going on? “Can we, um, hang out later?”

“Of course,” Logan could have stopped there, but his big mouth just kept going. “Best to hang out after school, though. I don’t want kids to make fun of you too.”

“What? People make fun of you?” Patton’s face melted into one of concern. 

“Look, we can discuss this later. Meet me at the lion statue out front and we can go to my house,” Logan had finally gotten a hold of himself, and was back to his usual cold and unfeeling persona.

“Okay,” Patton responded hesitantly. “See you later than?”

“Yes.” Logan very slowly took his wrist back from Patton and went back into the classroom, leaving the pastel clad boy alone in the hallway.

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

For those people who for some reason want to be tagged in my writing.

@jellopuffs

@loginceismyjam

@steampunkicarus

@redistooviolent

@hekking-happy-nonsense

@bookwyrminspiration

Let me know if you want tagging.

Also, there will be more! Don’t worry!

[circlejourney]

tfw

OK so, to those who have not had the pleasure of hearing me ramble about it for days, I have a wildly intense crush on the chairperson of the music society. I can’t even think about her without getting flustered right now and it’s embarrassing. Once she happened to come up in conversation between me and one of my mutual friends and I immediately froze and felt my whole head catch on fire.

So, 5 months ago, I said I'd confess to her, right? I actually did that. Her answer amounted to, "I'm not looking for a relationship right now because I'm dealing with things in my life", and then followed an extremely awkward period of about a month where I tried not to be too overbearing because she'd kind of implicitly told me to hold off, while I continued to helplessly hang onto her every word.

I mean, she was pretty chill about it, seemed to understand what crushes entail, and didn’t seem to mind. But I didn’t wanna be feeling things for someone who didn’t want a relationship! Classic story, I was scared to get my hopes up only to have them dashed yet again. So I did my usual thing and tried to suppress my feelings, or tell myself off every time I felt them. In hindsight, I wasn’t being fair to myself. And naturally, all that served to do was make me extremely anxious and overthinky. I went back to Singapore in November, and I was like, "this is too damn much. I can't deal with all this anxiety anymore" and I kinda lost all courage to talk to her. Oops.

Well, I come back to Griffith (my uni) in Feb and attend the first music society after a period of really really crappy mental health back at home, and I worry that I’ll never work up the courage to start a conversation with her again.

Guess what? She comes up to me in the middle of this first session (while others are playing Nine In The Afternoon, buncha emos lol) and asks if I want to take a walk. With her?? My brain short circuited and I had just enough presence of mind to say yes, let me grab my bag because I’ll need to leave after that.

So first thing I ask is where we’re going, and she says, for lunch. So there’s a long walk from the music society room to the eateries that passes through some bush, and while we’re walking it starts to drizzle in unpleasant, thin, misty droplets that blow in your face. OK I do the only logical thing, which is to take out my umbrella (which I have with me all the time), and then I realise that the polite thing would be to shelter us both. Even though at this point I’m obviously thinking about how unintentionally romantic this is gonna look.

Anyway I barely maintain my composure enough for us to talk about how I carry my umbrella everywhere even though it only rains like once a month in Brisbane.

We went and got food at the Indian restaurant, she got something that was supposed to be spicy, but it turned out to Not be spicy and we had a field day complaining about how Australians butcher food from other cultures. I then told her about how I made some failed curry last week, and she offered to send a recipe!! That’s nice of her

We sat down at the bus stop where my bus was coming, and talked about her recent vacation to Dublin, which, she says, has weather just like the weather we were experiencing at that point in time--thin, misty drizzles that get blown in your face. Anyway a thin, misty drizzle started blowing in our faces at that point so we moved farther under the shelter. It was her first time seeing her dad in months, he lives in Johannesburg (her hometown, she mentioned that they usually call it Joburg or Josies and she isn’t used to saying its full name). We talked about how when you see a cow on the roadside during a car trip, you cannot help but to say “cow” or “moo” at it. About how I started hanging out with the uni’s LGBTQ+ society where I get a free coffee at every session, and how all one needs in life is to have free coffee and be gay

Throughout this whole conversation I was kinda constantly aware that my heart was racing and I didn’t have a whole lot of an appetite from the excitement. I figured I wouldn’t be able to finish my lunch, so once I hit that point and the conversation I decided to hop on the next bus that came. Before I left, she gestured for me to hug her and I! Hugged Her!! Like I know she hugs people a lot, but I don’t, and this was the first time I’d hugged her. Aaaaand I was freaking the fuck out, in a good way, and I don’t know if she knew, but wow I have not stopped freaking out, hence this blog post.

I think that things really changed for me over the break. I was in a really, really bad place for a while, I couldn’t stop thinking of death for weeks. And now? I’m just so damn happy to be...happy. I don’t even care anymore if my feelings won’t be reciprocated, or if this won’t ever end in anything other than us saying goodbye. She knows I like her, I don’t have to hide it. I’ll just let myself feel it and act in accordance with it, as long as she doesn’t ask me to stop (she did promise she’ll say something if she’s uncomfortable). I’ll let it hurt for all I care. It can’t hurt as much as the past four/five months have hurt. Temporary or not, fated to end or not, this is a rare and precious feeling and I’m done casting joy out of my life. This feeling is so freeing and I’ve managed to tell my anxiety who’s boss for once. That’s wild. I’m excited.

[3wisellamas]

Hey, remember my pet cracktheory that Darrell is a clone of Laserblast, or is somehow connected to him in some way?  I finally cleaned up and sorted out my full list of weird things I’ve noticed that they both have in common, or that otherwise support that, or are just weird about this stupid robot in general.  Because I wasn’t fucking joking about there being a lot of it.  Probably not gonna actually amount to anything, especially with not much series left, but meh.  It’s fun.  Enjoy.

---

Appearance/Body:

(Okay, I admit most of this section was pretty much killed by Darrell's canon human form in OK AU, which looked NOTHING like Laser at all.  But just in case...)

-Identical body shape/proportions to LB/SF, with wider torso/hips and very thin waist -- maybe a little smaller because he's a teen (and a robot)

-Very close head shape to LB/SF/PV:  square jaw (when it’s not exaggerated to make him cuter), similar rectangular shape and proportions if you include the braincase (since it would normally be inside his skull)

-LB's mask looks a LOT like Darrell's head, with the entire top half and most of the sides of his head covered and with circular ear...things

-That mask also tends to be quite expressive, almost functioning as a single eye sometimes

-Their big heavy boots are also kinda similar (Though honestly Darrell's boots look slightly more like Chip Damage's...)

-LB is based off of the superhero Cyclops, and Darrell is literally a cyclops

-Only robot that really seems to have an organic, human brain, and has human feet too along with Shannon -- even for just the feet, someone's DNA has to be cloned to make him, and not necessarily Boxman's.

-Darrell can grow stubble, according to that one tiny joke shot in Let's Watch the Boxmore Show; his face may be organic just like his brain and feet.  Also worth noting, the specific spots on the side of the jaw where LB's/SF's stubble shows are covered by metal for Darrell -- when comparing Darrell and LB, each character's most distinctive visible features (one eye and brain, cheek stubble) are covered up on the other!

---

Costumes:

-Darrell seems to enjoy dressing up as a HERO -- when he's in cowboy mode he plays a sheriff, and when the bots play Golden Statues he always plays the museum guard, both specifically hero roles!

-In fact, the costumes in general -- he definitely likes pretending he's someone else, rather than just being fashionable like his siblings.

-LB and SF both hide their eyes, and may have something unusual/distinctive about them, especially with Laser because of his eye-based powers.  LB!SF in particular would hide his if there was something that might immediately get him recognized as his former identity.  Perhaps only having one eye (hence the visor acting as one on occasion like I pointed out)?  (We got to see behind LB's mask once in Gar's fear sequence in Face Your Fears, with one red eye showing where the mask was broken, but there it did look like he had two.  However, Gar would never have seen what was ACTUALLY under there...)

---

Habits/Personality:

-LB was an anti-hero, willing to do some fucked-up things in the name of good, while Darrell is an anti-villain, who focuses more on just doing his job, having fun, and trying to make his father happy than crushing the heroes out of malice

-Darrell's also just a terrible villain in general.  Of course, he's directly killed another villain (or tried to anyway), and his idea of doing the most evilest thing was reporting Boxman's lies to the board and stopping him, AKA doing the RIGHT thing -- even with the betrayal, not very villainous of him, huh?

-Weird shared oral fixation?  There's a very unusual emphasis on food/mouth things with Darrell (his lowkey obsession with eating, spitting Boxman into the spitoon in his office, brushing his teeth), and LB's trademark was always having that lollipop in his mouth.

-Hugging soft cute animals, like Rippy and Fink

-Darrell writes in concrete in You're Level 100, and LB does the same using his eye laser in Glory Days (in the POINT theme song)

-Neither one is a big fan of new members of their respective teams right away.  LB refused to take junior members with him in both Glory Days and Let's Take a Moment, and doesn't seem to think much of them in either episode at all, aside from Silver Spark (and then, he still left her behind as one of his lookouts).  Darrell...just freaking HATES new siblings at first, having a problem with every single one he gets, at least the ones we've seen (we didn't get to see his and Mikayla's introduction).  He's also like this to siblings he considers inferior to him, to a point -- he and Shannon both got pretty jealous when Boxman started praising Jethro's "new moves."

---

Boxman stuff:

-Timing is correct, Darrell and the others were created right after LB disappeared according to Lad and Logic, since Boxman only drew the first three members in his original plans to attack POINT, and Gar was already building the plaza by the time Boxmore was opened.  This means the Boxbot quadruplets and KO were actually born around the same time, making them all 6-11 years old, roughly the same amount of time that's passed since the Sandwich Incident.

-Boxy was obsessed with POINT at that time (and still is, since he's kept the coordinates for POINT HQ memorized), and possibly LB himself (given his later attraction to PV)

-Boxman may also have some POINT tech and connections of his own?  First off, access to a huge supply of glorbs, the easiest and closest source of which Foxtail and Carol have been protecting and heavily monitoring, and are normally very hard for non-heroes to get their hands on.  Second, those boxes he sends the robots to attack in might use the same wormhole tech as POINT Prep's bus, since it looks a little similar both in transit and emerging at its destination, plus its driver sounds exactly like Ernesto.  And speaking of Ernesto, that one time he straight-up drew a POINT drone as part of a family portrait…

---

POINT stuff:

-There were six members of POINT before the Sandwich Incident, and LB was one of the original three, and seemed to function as co-leader alongside Foxtail.  There are six Boxbots, and Darrell was one of the original four, and kinda leads them in battle alongside Shannon, especially once he becomes CEO.

-And coincidentally, the original six members of POINT also share colors and in some cases roles with the Boxbots -- Shannon and Foxtail are orange, Greyman and Ernesto are purple, El-Bow and Jethro are blue, Rippy and Raymond are green, Silver Spark is...difficult but her hair is pretty distinctive and works with Mikayla for yellow, and of course, Darrell and Laser are red.  The robots' colors and relative ages even match POINT'S senior/junior members, with Greyman, Laser, and Foxtail representing three of the older Boxbots, and then Rippy, Silver Spark, and El-Bow representing the two newer ones and Jethro, who only recently was able to show his true personality/potential.

-"Junior Members" = "Junior Deputies"

-"Code Vermillion."  I made an entire post on this a while back, but to summarize, Vermillion is a bright, slightly orange-y red, and in most episodes is Darrell's exact color.  And Vermillion, as a red pigment, tends to darken over time into purple and black -- and SF and PV have connections to both glorbs (which Code Vermillion refers to), and to LB as well.

-Darrell has a bunch of weird similarities to Chip Damage as well, who is basically Laser's replacement at POINT, minus being the Charisma discipline rep:  Robots made right after LB got iced, green powers, special limited-edition costumes/POW cards, similar dark gray boots, the remote controls (Wisdom class blackboard for Darrell, Final Exams for Chip), possibly both made with actual brain tissue (The flashback to Chip's creation had a brain on one of Greyman's screens), etc.  Also, a dumb one, but...remember those Double-Dipped (KO and TKO?) Laser Chips (self-explanatory), that are "probably just a limited-edition" (Darrell).

---

Other assorted weird things:

-Darrell’s laser eye attachment shown in Stop Attacking the Plaza -- still being worked on in the episode (and it looks like it has been for a while, since it had been some time since Boxman was in that specific lab...), but used by a Big Darrell in the opening, where it produces a very similar (green) copy of LB's beam.

-Darrell is right-handed, in a left-handed family -- he's shown eating with his right hand in Stop Attacking the Plaza while everyone else is using their left, looks like he’s wielding a lightsaber right-handed in Plaza Film Festival, and draws with his right hand in Villains Night In.  Left-handedness is often associated with villains in fiction, so he may not be a full one?  (Definitely not as sinister as the rest of them, hehe.)  Though, some instances of Darrell using his left hand too, and other bots using their right, so I dunno how strong this particular point is.

-Line to keep an eye on:  "Just reboot yourself into a new body!  I do it all the time for funsies!" from Rad Likes Robots.  Related, Darrell reboots by exploding himself, which is how LB may have "died" and took on a new identity (if he's SF)

-Weird shit from Let's Not Be Skeletons:  Potato demonstrates a skeleton remote wearing a cowboy hat, and in addition to turning people into skeletons they remove powers, just like that red orb, and they also left Rad's and Enid's boots intact for some reason.  Darrell's also one of the biggest customers of the remotes, using his foes' weapons against them ("What do you say we snag more of them before they fall into the wrong hands?  We could even use them against our foes!")

-When we first saw TKO's power manifest in You're Level 100, it was while KO was trying to defeat a giant superpowered Darrell.  When we first saw TKO in physical form in Face Your Fears (as KO's "evil burp"), he was sent out to defeat a giant superpowered Laserblast head.  When we next saw TKO in, well, TKO (as his true self for the first time), he defeated another giant superpowered Darrell!

-Really dumb one, the letter right before C and D is B, so the acronyms LB and LCD may be a thing?

---

Turbo/SF/TKO connections, just in case those turn out to be related to Laser as well:

(Under the cut, since this is long enough already!)

-SF hints that negative emotions, particularly anger, fuel Turbo powers.  Darrell has quite a few jealousy and anger issues in general -- "Gets flustered by petty insults," HATES new younger siblings (or existing siblings showing him up and getting more of dad’s attention), etc -- and seems to be way more capable of mayhem than usual when running on these emotions.  They even gave him the power to defy his programming and (attempt to) kill Boxman!

-He can also have his power boosted by a ton in a very short amount of time, from level -4 up (down?) to level -100 and able to destroy the plaza in one shot, and for as brief as that level -100 thing was he STILL has yet to be topped as the most powerful villain in the entire series!  But, Boxman doesn't do it often -- even regular Big Darrells are implied to NOT be that powerful normally.  Perhaps he's holding Darrell back for a reason?

-A lot of emphasis on his brain, similar to TKO: the visible brain is obvious, he has the most noticeable hivemind, and he pilots Big Darrells from inside their braincases similar to how KO and TKO controlled Big KO (even the name's similar!) in TKO's House

-Also, he doesn't have to glitch or change colors with his mood like Shannon does, he can make decisions and go against his programming all on his own -- perhaps he runs mostly on that meat brain?  Or maybe his brain is actually a mass of pink glorbs like Jethro got in I Am Jethro that unlocked his intelligence and potential?  

-SF's speech to KO in TKO: "Everyone holds you back because they're afraid of your raw, natural ability.  They want you small and nice, blissfully unaware of your true potential."  Darrell in Lord Cowboy Darrell:  "Nobody's gonna hold me back."  Shannon to Darrell in Plaza Film Festival:  "Where do you think you got all that natural talent?"

-TKO ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.  LCD ultimately came out of wanting recognition from his boss.

-That VERY noticeable purple glow in the "I'm the Daddy now!" scene in Lord Cowboy Darrell.  Like, to the point it seemed specially painted for emphasis, rather than the normal animation.  

-Also, Junior is pretty heavy evidence that Turbo powers do not necessarily = purple, as Junior's powers were all green (and so were Chip's Turbo-ish powerups!)  Darrell also has green powers (that even carried over to his human alternate in OK AU, despite Shannon and Raymond getting Enid’s and Rad’s exact same powers and colors), and is sometimes surrounded by Turbo-esque greenish lightning when he's angry, the best example being at the beginning of Legends of Mr Gar after being trash talked (remember that he can't take petty insults; he was PISSED there!)

-(If it looks like I’m insinuating Darrell’s secretly got more power under the hood than even he realizes, I absolutely am.)

-Darrell still has his dark hooded cloak from the pilot, which looks a little like SF's.

-Darrell's the only one who wasn't invited to Junior's funeral, and doesn't give half a shit, instead using it as an opportunity to betray people and take on a new identity.  Possibly like LB faking his own death, therefore not attending his own funeral, and taking on a new identity as SF?

-Sneaking through the vents = sneaking through the pipes (SF, maybe how LB survived given that pipe in Let's Take a Moment)?

-Weird broken halo imagery shared between both Darrell and SF in TKO.  (Not my observation actually, pointed out by @david-yells-about-cartoons )  Darrell's cloud halo thing in that episode also looks almost exactly like the clouds swirling above KO as he shoots a power fist for the first time at the end of Let's Be Friends…

[tea-and-toblerones]

Unison Chapter 10- I'm Forced to Deal With What I Feel

This chapter was inspired heavily by the River music video. That tells you how long I’ve been working on it. After three complete rewrites this is what I got.

Car Radio- Twenty One Pilots

"So, tell me about your week. Did anything exciting happen?"

My fingers interlaced, my arms resting on my thighs as I stared down at the pale carpet. I could hear Linda shift in her chair, her pen jotting down a couple notes. It was insane all that you could hear when everything was completely silent. The soft rustle of her hand brushing against the page, the way the chair squeaked with the slightest movements. The normal sounds of the city bleeding into the room. The air whistling through my nose. Did anything exciting happen? Where should I begin?  

"Uh, yeah, a lot actually. Er- let's see..." My head fell back as I thought, finally deciding to start at the beginning, "Adi showed up Thursday a bit off. I didn't realise just how bad off she was until She ended up having a full on breakdown in the middle of my suite. It broke my heart, seeing her that out of sorts. I put her in the bath since I remember her saying it could fix anything and I didn't know what else to really do."

I saw her scribble something on her pad, "Did it fix it?"

"I don't know if it fixed it but she kinda zoned out and shared a bit as I washed her back." I could see her sitting cross legged in the tub, cup of tea clutched between her hands that not ten minutes before were trembling. That far off distant look in her eyes as she cobbled together bits from her past. "The more she told me the easier it seemed to be for her."

She nodded as she wrote, finally looking up, "What did she tell you?"

"About her ex" I swallowed hard, realising I couldn't use his name, like if it was spoken aloud he'd suddenly appear. What a stupid thought, "How they met, became friends, became more, then left. How when I slipped back into bad habits, it reminded her of him."

I had replayed that moment over in my head quite a lot over the past couple of days. How I had somewhat regretted remaining silent about it but it was better than the truth. I felt let down, to be honest. She had built it up as this whole dramatic thing and it boiled down to he broke up with her. Either there's something I'm missing or I'm just being an insensitive prat because I just don't see how that warrants this reaction. It's no surprise that she picked up on that and she really hit the nail on the head when she called me out on it. Nothing really gets past her. What I hadn't realised was how transparent, no how callous I had been about it  My gut was telling me that I was missing something. Something important, something big. Right now I was fumbling around in the dark, trying to pick objects out by light of a firefly and it was getting me nowhere.

Linda must have picked up on that note. "You don't seem satisfied with it."

"There has to be a piece I'm missing. Something she left out. I understand he was a big part of her life for years and all that but..." I let out a deep sigh, "Is it bad that I almost said is that all when she told me? Thank god my brain kicked in and stopped me but...I was waiting for more of the story, some big aha moment where everything suddenly made since but I didn't get it. I knew if I would have asked, is that all, she'd think I was belittling her when I was just waiting for more pieces of the puzzle."

"Did she tell you that's the reason she won't open up or are you assuming that's the reason?"

I stared blankly at her as she waited for my response. I wracked my brain, trying to remember if she had said he was the reason. I could faintly hear her voice say I'm worried I'm going to open up and you're going to leave. I assumed it was him, more so when she told me of his sudden departure but she never outright pinned the blame on him. The more I thought, the more I believed that it might not have been just him. She painted the picture of sweet, caring, almost naive person, yet I saw a fear in her eyes when my anger had gotten the best of me. There's no way the person she described could instile that into her.

"I assumed, but the more I think about it, I don't think it's just him. He didn't help things but I think it's something else. It's part of the piece I'm missing, I'm sure." My hand gripped my knee tightly in frustration. I felt pretty helpless at the moment.

"Don't take it personally, Ed. It's not a wall to keep you out, it's a wall to keep her safe. Just give her some time and she'll let you in. Pushing her is only going to re enforce it. Think of it this way, when she lets you in, it's not because she needs to, it'll be because she wants to."

"I know, it's just...it's hard..." Yet another one of my sigh filled the air, "I want her to know that I'm not just going to vanish or leave without warning. Which is why I thought showing her that I rented an apartment would be a good thing. I wasn't expecting it to lead to a fight. I thought she was going to put an end to everything."

"You fought? What about?" She hand moving back into writing position.

"A misunderstanding." I said with a shrug, not knowing what else to call it.

"Ah. You two seem to have quite a lot of those."

"I wasn't me this time." My finger coming up as I defended myself, " She was the one that jumped to conclusions this time." I clear my throat in preparation for the story, "Friday I signed the lease to a new apartment. Since I'm going to be here for a bit, that was the cheaper way to go."

She nodded, "I understand, continue."

"I brought Adi along so I could show her and tell her the news. I meant to Thursday but with what happened, focusing on her was more important. So, instead I thought I'd show her the place, then go, surprise, this is my new place. I thought she would be excited. Like I said, I thought this would show her that I was here to stay for a while. That this was real not just a fling.  The suite had a temporary feel to it, y'know? I could up and leave in a moments notice without a trace, which I think was always in the back of her head. An apartment is much more permanent. I thought it would help put her abandonment fears to rest.  Well, it didn't go exactly to plan, Janet, the realtor, made the comments about young couples getting their first apartment and handed her the other key. So she thought I was asking her to move in with me and it freaked her out a bit. She lead with ' we need to talk' then I assumed she was breaking up with me, got a little irritated about how she was doing it, the classic, 'it's not you it's me' line. Luckily she got head of it and clarified that she just wanted to slow things down not break up. "

"Were you?" She asked once her hand had stopped.

I lift my head up, "Was I what?"

"Were you planning on asking her to move in?" I feel my eyebrow raise, "Honestly?" I ask softly, my eyes dropping to my fingers that were pulling on my sleeves.

"That's preferable." A smile flicking across her face

"She did have a big part in my choosing that particular apartment. As soon as I walked in I could see us...there. I could see the two of us  in the kitchen, laughing as we cooked together, guiding her through the steps. Her hips swaying to the music that was playing as she stirred. I could see us together on the couch watching tv together, wrapped in a blanket. I could see her sitting on the balcony, cup of coffee in hand as she watched the sunrise. I could see us, I could see our life in that apartment and I knew this was the one." I could feel the smile coming across my face as those images flashed in my minds eye again. Having a proper home with someone seemed like such a simple and almost innocent dream but it was one of my biggest ones. While, I had a home back in Suffolk, I hardly stayed there. I was never in one place long enough for it to really feel like home. Not to mention I built it with family in mind and without that, it felt empty, almost bittersweet. Now that I had the freedom to stay in one place, even if it was only for a couple months, I wanted to fully embrace it.

"You keep saying I see us and I see her. You never once said you saw yourself  there and never answered my question. Does that mean you was planning on asking her but changed your mind due to her aversion?"

She brought up a good point. Could I see myself, just myself there? Or was I so wrapped up in what could be? Living in a fantasy land. Did I love that apartment because it reminded me of her or did I love the space itself? As for the moving in bit...I was known for jumping the gun a bit. I am, and probably will always be, A hopeless romantic. I hope life never hardens me to the point that I'm not. However, this was the first time I had the privilege of being able to ease into things. I had no where I had to be. No touring, no interviews, no promos. Free to do whatever I wanted. I had time to build up a relationship. This had been what I had been telling myself but since when does feelings follow logic?

"No, I wasn't. I'd love for her to live there with me someday but she's right, it's too soon. I did give her a key though, in hopes that she would feel more welcomed and stay more. " My eyes drop back to the floor, "She never just drops by, like maybe she's afraid of wearing out her welcome or spending too much time with me. It makes me wonder if she thinks we'll tire of each other if we're together all the time."

Just another dark thought that had made itself a nice home in the back of my mind. She made it seem like her and Mike were always together. As much as I hate to admit it, I was slightly jealous. For me, being able to spend an extended amount of time with anyone outside my team is rare since I'm always on the road. I know just how lonely the road can get and I don't expect her to take off work and tour with me, so I want to get every little morsel of time with her I can get before I hit the road again. I want to make a strong foundation that can withstand the distance. I've got the rare opportunity to do so and I don't want to waste it.

"With everything you've told me, It sounds like you want her to depend on you, like you don't want her to have a life outside of you and I have to admit, that's raising some concerns." Her eyebrows pulled together, her fingers steepling, "You should want her to have her own life, to be independent. That's a healthy relationship. To rely solely on you isn't healthy, that's controlling."

I quickly wave my hands, my head shaking , "No, no, that's not what I meant at all. I'm all for her having her own life. That's one of the things I like about her. She doesn't ask me for anything. I bought her groceries once because I added loads of stuff to her cart and I felt like since there was a lot of additions she normally wouldn't get, it was only fair. She actually seemed pretty insulted but didn't want to cause a scene."

I thought back to all the times I had gotten on to her about her meal choices and her comment about not needing another dad. Had I came off as controlling, bossing her around? That wasn't my intention, I was just worried about her, not wanting to see her work herself into exhaustion. It came from a caring place, not a controlling place. My fingertips came up, kneading my forehead. I remember Levi saying the best intentions can cause the most harm, a phrase that had stuck with me ever since he said it. It had seemed like such an odd, out of place thing to say at the time but I'm beginning to see what he meant now. I may have meant well but I very well could be doing damage. "And for having her rely solely on you for emotional support? You strike me as the ride in on a white horse, let me fix the problem type guy, which again, isn't exactly what you'd call healthy."

As much as I'd like to argue with that statement, she had me there. I did like to take it upon myself to fix things. Like when we were in that diner and that guy was being a creep. I stepped in and took over. It didn't even cross my mind that she could have handled it until afterwards. I just wanted to put an end to it as quickly as possible. Even if it wasn't really my problem to fix. Good intentions can cause the most harm all over again. I wasn't the type to stand idly by and watch someone hurting without trying to fix it. That's just not me and I hope I'll never grow to be that heartless. I can, however see her point and I have the suspicion that Adi isn't the type that's going to be okay with me swooping in all the time making her problems disappear.

"I don't want her to rely on just me. If that's what you got out of this, there's been another miscommunication." I could hear how clipped my sentences were, so I took a deep breath in order to adjust my tone, "I just want to be let in is all. For her to feel safe enough to tell me things Would I like to be the first person she wants to tell things too? Yes. Do I want to be the only one she tells things to? Of course not. As for the whole white horse bit, Normally, I am. Not because I want to control but because I can't stand seeing people hurting when I can do something. That being said I know damn well the whole chivalrous act isn't exactly going to work with her. She seemed pretty used to handling everything on her own. I'm happy just being..." I pause, searching for the right word,  "Support?" My eyes screwing shut as I thought, deciding it was as good of word as any,  "As much as I'd love to jump in and make everything better, I'm content with standing behind her, only helping her when she asks for it."

"You say that, yet, you've expressed how," She flipped back a few pages, "I want to be able to fix any problems her ex caused."

I felt a little spark of anger, "Of course I want to fix it. She deserves the best. What's wrong with that? I care about her, so it's only natural I'd want to fix it." My voice slightly heated.

"You can't fix the problem Ed, that's what I'm trying to get in your head." She sounded slightly irritated now, "It's something she has to do. She's the one that has to work through it. You can't fight the battle for her, as much as you want to, you just can't. It's her battle."

"So, what, I'm supposed to just sit back and watch her struggle? Sorry, no, that's not going to happen."

Her calling out in her sleep, crying about standing there not helping was forefront in my mind. My vision blurred as my hands curled into fists again. No, I wasn't going to stand idly by and watch her hurt when I could do something about it. Even if was something as simple as keeping those dreams at bay. I'd gladly sacrifice a couple hours of sleep to make sure she never had to go through another one of those dreams again.

"No, Ed, that's not what I meant and you know it."

I took a deep breath, exhaling sharply through my nose. I honestly didn't know how to just be support. I've always felt the need to protect the ones close to me. Paired with some pretty strong feelings of jealousy and the need of establishing what was mine. What's mine...maybe Linda's right, maybe I am controlling but not in the conventional way. The fact that I was a jealous, no, insecure. That's the root of it. I was insecure. That's where the jealousy came from. The fear they'd find better. Either way, it was something that I didn't like about myself. I never thought of it as controlling, since I never went out of my way to stop any of my exes from doing whatever they'd felt like.

"Maybe you're right...as much as I don't want to admit it, I do tend to go out of my way to let the shifty looking guys know when a lady is with me. It's not something I'm proud of but it can sometimes get carried away.

"Well, that's something we can work on if you'd like."

"Yeah...yeah okay." I nod eagerly.

She just offered a smile as a response before continuing on. "Now, I'd like to revisit your fight. Specifically the part where you said you saw your life in that apartment."

"Oh...okay, sure." Slightly thrown by the focus on that particular piece of information

. "You sound like you have some pretty strong feelings. Do you love her?"

I scoff, "Love?" I shake my head, "No, it's too soon to be thinking that."

What a thought, love, this early. That is exactly what I'm known for though. The romantic guy. The guy who's quick to fall head over heels. So, really was it that crazy that she'd suggest it. More importantly, was she right? No, it's infatuation. That's all. The line between love and lust is a thin one. I'm feeling the lust hard. Just your good, ol fashioned lust. Nothing more.

"They say love follows no schedule."

"It's not love. I'm not sure what this is. I've never quite felt this way before. I've never dated someone like her before." I admitted sheepishly, " Someone who keeps me in check. Who doesn't treat me different cos of who I am. Who calls me out on my bullshit. Grounds me when my ego starts to get out of control and she has no clue she even does it. That's the best part.  Y'know, in the heat of out fight she actually looked me in the eyes and straight up said I'm not famous to her. You're just Ed. Do you know how long it's been since i've been just Ed to anyone other than my mates back home? It's refreshing. It's the first time I felt like someone was dating me for me."

That's the feeling. Nostalgia. I hadn't had a girl like Adi since my very first girlfriend, way back before I was famous. She was there at the beginning, through my struggles and she was there for my success. That very success was the death sentence for our relationship. I was always gone, she was lonely and we just fell apart. We were young and dumb, thinking love would conquer all and keep us together. Long story short, it didn't. Adi didn't seem too concerned about it. Either she was really confident or really naive. I don't think she knows just how hard it's really going to be.  Linda quickly pulled me from my thoughts.

"You've said dating a couple times. I know you said you weren't exactly sure what this was since you hadn't sat down and had the talk yet. Did you?"

"Yeah, that was the outcome of our fight. She blurted out 'my lego building boyfriend' and didn't realise it until I pointed it out." A smirk gracing my face, "That pretty much ended our fight and it shifted to the big talk. By the end of it we made it official. She kept my key and I'm meeting her friends this weekend. So she went from we need to slow things down to you're my boyfriend all because we finally talked and cleared the air."

"That's progress, yet you still look upset."

The smirk was quick to leave, replaced by a frown, "I'm nervous. She doesn't know the tabloid gossip. She doesn't know just how bad things really were with the drug use and partying but they do. Levi was on the fence about me for a while, hell he still could be for all I know." I shook my head, "I'm worried once she finds out, we'll be over. I'm still in shock that we're even together now after I fell off the wagon." I swallowed, "When she showed up that day...I was so fucked up I didn't see her standing there, I saw the woman who used and played me. I thought she was going to do the same thing Al did. Use me to further herself. Once I heard magazine all common sense went out the window, replaced with 'Oh god not again.' I was right back in that mess, being taken advantage of. She just seemed too good to be true. The last time I felt that, I was right. I just assumed the worst. I'm just stuck in the past and it almost costed me...but..." I hesitate, the words caught on the tip of my tongue, "no....nevermind." "Safe space Ed. It stays between us." She gently reminded me.

"I wonder just how desperate is she to stay with someone like me? To look past all that shit. Most would have walked then and there. Why would she put herself through this? Misery loves company and I'm afraid my bad habits are going to rub off onto her."

She was so upbeat and bright when I first met her. She was like a raging wildfire. One month with me and that wildfire is nothing but a small ember. Dim and flickering, just barely staying lit. It almost felt like leaving would do her a kindness. Saving her before that spark went out for good.

"Didn't she tell you she understood what you were feeling. Maybe she knows what she saw that day isn't the real you."

"I don't know what's the real me anymore...what if that is the real me?"

That thought had been resting in my head for a long time now. What if I was stuck in this cynical mindset from now on? Stuck holding everyone to mistakes of the past, never being able to move forward. You can only get burnt so many times. Eventually you're going to wonder if it's really worth it the chance. Was those dark thoughts going to be my permanent mindset from here on out or just the dark before the light breaks?

"That's what we're here trying to figure out. But I don't think that's you for one minute and I'm guessing neither does she."

"Well I wouldn't know...she won't tell me and it pisses me off. I don't know who did this to her but I wish I did." I mutter bitterly

"So you can fix it?" Her eyebrow rising?

Ah. She's got me there.

"Not just that. So I don't make the same mistakes. She's already said I reminded her of him when I scold her. And when I pointed out it sounded like he just cared, which I realise now probably wasn't the best thing to say, she got understandably upset. 'He did. Until he didn't.'  I don't want to be like him. So i'd want to know what to avoid."

She nodded, scribbling something down."Does it piss you off because she won't let you in or because she was put in this position to begin with?"

"Both." I state without any hesitation, "In the back of my mind I'm just worried she's never going to be comfortable enough to tell me."

"It's like I said. It's a battle she has to fight herself but not by herself. She'll let you in when she's ready, not when you're ready."

I knew there was going to be no rushing her. No amount of coaxing, pushing or persuading was going to get her to do anything she didn't want to do. This would be no different. I just had to sit back and wait, as much as I didn't want to.

"I know I shouldn't be hung up on the past but...the way she avoids talking about anything even remotely related to her ex. And it's not just her, Levi was the same way. It's like some unspoken rule between them or something." My frustration evident in my tone, "I know there's the whole don't speak about your ex to your new partner thing but this is ridiculous. He's such a huge looming presence of her, over us, really and it worries me a lot. I know she didn't get closure, so I guess I'm just worried that...she'd run right back to him given the chance." I could feel the hot sting of tears, "The way she talked about him...it's like..." I couldn't finish the sentence, so I took a deep breath. "There's so much history there. I can't compete with that. I'm fucked if he ever comes to his senses and shows back up."

I didn't even try to stop the tears this time. They freely fell as I spilled my biggest worry. That I would do until something better came along. That I was just a distraction from him. That I'd be tossed aside if he came back. You wouldn't need to fill in a boy toy about your feelings or past. You'd just give them enough to keep them on the hook. That maybe she was just telling me things I wanted to hear to keep the charade going until he came back. The majority of my brain told me that wasn't the case, that everything she's said was true but that voice in the back of my head wasn't always a small one. Sometimes it screamed and pounded, drowning out everything else.

"If you're that worried about it, you need to address it. You're so caught up with her feelings you're neglecting your own. Your feelings are just as important as hers. I'm sure she wouldn't be too pleased if she knew you were holding back something like this."

"Well, fuck, why should I be the only one spilling my guts? She's obviously in no hurry." I spit, brushing away the remaining tears.

I wasn't sure where this sudden anger had came from. I felt so raw and vulnerable. Like I wasn't in control of my emotions. They were just pouring out of me now, swinging from one to the next. This was one ride I wanted to get off of as soon as possible. It was terrifying.  

"Is that how you think a relationship works? That it's an even give and take?" There was a sharpness to her tone, "If that's the case, you're highly mistaken. When she can only give 10% you've got to provide the other 90. Withholding stuff out of spite is no way to have a relationship. The only thing you're doing is hurting yourself  in the long run."

My anger died down a bit, "So, what I'm just supposed to go 'hey, I'm worried if Mike showed up on your doorstep you'd dump me like yesterday's rubbish?'"

"Not in those exact words, but if that's how you feel, then yes. You've transitioned from potential relationship to actual relationship, so you should feel a bit more safe expressing things now."

She's right. Of course she's right. I'm being a child. How is me holding all this in helping either one of us? How can I expect her to open up to me when I'm acting like a spoiled brat. I could feel my face growing warm.

"Could I get you to write a note telling her the same thing?" I cracked a smile, "I'm kidding. Besides she told me she was seeing someone anyway and they told her pretty much the same thing." I grin, "It's not you is it?"

"If I was, you know I couldn't tell you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I felt a sigh escape my lips, "So, you're saying I should lead by example? If I open up more, it could cause her to tell me more?"

"Ed, what are you afraid of?"

"Well, lots of things, heights, belly buttons, hairless cats in sweaters-"

"You know that's not what I meant." I fought the urge to glare at her but she was just doing her job after all.  What was I afraid of really? What was I so worried about finding out. What was the one thing that always plagued me, not just with her, but in every relationship.

"The truth. That her feelings will never be the same as mine. I've always been the one that's felt things stronger and quicker. At first, I thought maybe she was the same. She showed up to a diner in pyjamas for fucksakes, not to mention stayed the entire weekend with me. She seemed quick to throw caution to the wind and I went, 'Yes, I found my match. Someone who's as much of a romantic as I am. This is gonna be easy.'"

"No relationship is easy all the time. The honeymoon phase is over. This is where the real work begins. The rose coloured glasses are off and her flaws are starting to show."

"So...it's never going to be like it was before?" I felt my heart sink.

"Is that a bad thing? You're down to the meat and bones now. The real part."

I thought back to all the nights spend on the floor building legos, the Friday nights at Uni, the lazy Sundays in bed. The silly arguments about nothing important. The way her eyes almost disappeared when she really got laughing, her hand waving me off. The way she played with her food, the way she'd overplay her reactions just to get a laugh. I couldn't remember the last time I had heard her laugh. Or even seen her smile for that matter. Not like she did when I first met her. The fact that all that could be gone was painful.

"No, I guess in theory it's not, but I liked the Adi I met. The Adi that danced like no one was watching, the one that took me on a guided tour of the city, with some very questionable and hilarious  commentary. Is it wrong that I want her back to her cheerful happy self?"

"Ed, everyone, and I mean everyone, puts their best self out at the beginning. That doesn't mean it’s a lie, it just means there's more to them."

Her words stirred up a series of images, the distant, longing look in her eyes the night I met her and she thought she was alone on the roof. The look of sadness when she was at the diner talking about her parents, caught up in her memories. Anytime she thought she was alone that look was there, quickly evaporating when I made myself known. That's when it clicked.  

"I wasn't wrong when I said I thought I met my match. I was just wrong about what part. I've spent this entire time thinking I caused all this.  I never stopped to think it was there the entire time and she was hiding it. It's the exact same thing I do."

"What made you come to that conclusion?"   "You did, when you said the honeymoon phase was over and that everyone puts their best self forward. It was all an act Lin! She has to believe in me enough to take off the mask!"

There was an odd sort of relief that accompanied that revelation. The fact the blame wasn't laid all on me felt like a giant dark cloud had lifted. I had perked up considerably since that revelation. Linda gently reminded that this was just another assumption and that this was a marathon, not a sprint. By the end of the session I felt considerably lighter, a plan forming in my mind as I headed back to my car. I knew exactly what I going to do next. 

[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Kim Namjoon, spotted prancing about in the Southwest Side. I don’t remember seeing him with any clique back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say modest and overachieving? Apparently now he spends time as the owner of Edge Art Gallery, and keeps skeletons buried at Geumsang Apartment Complex, A205. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, The Tailor; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Who? — it was the way most people would refer to Kim Namjoon. Kim Namjoon who?, oh that super tall Mathlete dude. Sure. Among the popular kids, jocks, and beauty queens Namjoon was invisible, but he was kind of a star in the science and man niche of High School. Every calculus geek and library rat knew about Namjoon’s highlights solving logic problems or super complex math problems without even having to touch the pencil.

Between the thick glasses and braces crowd, he reached God Tier, but outside that realm: Who?

Of course Gossip Girl would never give him the time of the day if it wasn’t for the rumor about Namjoon making custom assistance to those in need. He’d sell test answers so well crafted that the teachers would never be able to catch up. Okay, but only for those in need.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Namjoon hit a jackpot in his life when he was seventeen years old.

Now, money isn’t a stranger to him, since he always lived comfortably, being provided with everything he deserved by his wealthy and lovable parents, but there’s a distinct difference between your parents being rich and you having a substantial amount of money yourself, isn’t there?

He’s always been curious about the world, inhaling knowledge, exploring every nook and cranny of everything. When people say what happened in his life he sweetly describes it as a “lucky strike”, investing money in stocks of a developing app that turned out to be Kakao Talk. Years later when the app’s popularity exploded, Namjoon had enough money to be set for life.

His inquisitive nature guided that lucky money everywhere, and with the advise of his father he started investing more, donating, funding cool projects, buying things. You got to make money spin, but do it right.

Today Namjoon owns buildings across Seoul, is the owner of an Art Gallery, has an online store for vintage toy lovers, finances University researches and projects, dabbles in open coding and the list goes on. He is still very discreet and private, and absolutely dreads that cursed gossip app.

People should spend their time and energy trying to make the world a better place, not the other way around.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

Namjoon’s father is an award winner cartographer and his mother is a renowned anthropologist, in other words: they traveled a lot. He had to learn how to deal with missing his omma and appa from a very young age, but when they were all together life was a party.

He never saw himself as a bad son or a bad student, always doing what he’s supposed to. Of course his parents knew their son was above-average book smart but could trip over air and set water on fire if he was left alone in the kitchen. Namjoon could possibly have a heart bigger than his brain, and that’s saying a lot.

Still, even the best student and the best son grow up into that abismal teenager phase. Namjoon’s wild, rebellious, out of control teenager revolution was to start using his gifts for sort evil? Yes he was cheating the school system by doing other student’s homework - but on the other hand, his prices were pretty fair. And having a successful student body high ranking would also increase Cheongnam’s prestige! So logically (and he was very logical when it came to manipulating the truth to suit his interests at that freaking age), it was a win-win situation, right? Right. In High School you have to be clever. Namjoon didn’t have the looks, the muscle, the charm, the swag - all he had was his way of hiding behind books when he got too shy and using his intelligence to survive that wicked place. He had friends all over the science and math clubs in high school, and received love letters in the form of binary codes or using references from the Sea Nautical Dictionary, but he ignored all of them. Today Namjoon has a better understanding of why love seemed like such a scary concept back in High School; he was so focused in using his head that the heart always took second place, but above it all, he was terrified of admiring certain things to himself.

The today Namjoon grew out of it, for the most part. Some of those things are still taboo inside him, but others he’ come to accept. He’s still very shy, still very - what some people would say - delicate, for a twenty five year old, 6’ tall, rich, art gallery-owner Korean man, but that’s just who he is. There’s no way around it. Namjoon’s sensitivity and empathy were always there, even when he was “misbehaving” in school.

[deadlyanddelicate]

Pynch Week 2017 -  Day 3: “What are you doing here?”

Adam was almost done piecing together his ambitious, abundant course notes, turning his jagged handwriting to tidy script on his computer – and what a thing to think, that he owned a computer; one of the first things he’d bought with his scholarship money, right after a phone – when the doorbell rang. He looked at the clock on the screen. It was ten to 1am.

Probably Josh having an impromptu party, or inviting a girl over. Or Melissa deciding to share some netflix and weed with someone. The doorbell rang again. Adam sighed.

He weighed his chances and yelled across the wall. “Josh! Someone’s at the door!”

No reply came.

Reaching for his phone, he quickly shot Melissa a text, which was usually what they did rather than get up and physically talk to each other– two introverts more than happy to stay in their respective bubbles.

why is josh not answering the damn doorbell

josh isn’t home dude

Oh. Now that she mentioned it, Adam seemed to remember Josh saying there was a party happening somewhere on campus, and inviting Adam to go along. He had refused, because, well. Biology notes.

The doorbell rang again.

is this one of your friends?

dont u think if it was one of my friends i wld kno

Adam sighed. 

i’m revising for finals can you answer it

hell no what if its a murderer

melissa. it’s not a murderer.

ok but im like stoned af.what if its the RA????

Adam rolled his eyes.

Gently depositing his computer on the bed, he stalked off in the direction of the ever-more-insistent doorbell, annoyance plastering a withering glare on his face. If this was another drunk frat boy who had forgotten where he lived–

He threw the door open just as the bell rang yet another time, fully prepared to snarl the most vicious Can I fucking help you a stressed student had ever mustered, before the words died on his lips. 

On the other side of the door, dark and tall and impossible, was Ronan Lynch.

Adam blinked once, just to be sure he wasn’t having midterms-induced hallucinations, but no – Ronan was really there, intricate tattoo peeking out from his tank top, Chainsaw perched on his shoulder, and a pile of food containers stacked in his hands.

It didn’t occur to Adam that he was gaping until he saw an unmistakeable shit-eating grin painting itself on Ronan’s face.

“Mind letting me in, Parrish? It’s honestly so fucking rude of you to keep me outside.”

“How did you even get into the building?” sputtered Adam. It was not the right response, hell, it wasn’t even the question he most wanted to ask, but his brain had the tendency to latch itself onto the closest logical problem when it was stuttering. He moved out of the doorway to let Ronan in, hoping it would count as amends.

Ronan shrugged, one eyebrow rising suggestively. “Hooligans these days. They can get into anything.” He walked in, somehow managing to look indolent while carrying more takeout than one man could possibly consume and a large prey bird. His duffel bag came into view on the ground behind him, and Adam automatically picked it up, closing the door.

“Ronan, what are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“Well hello to you too, sweetheart.”

The last was said in an overly high-pitched, exaggerated Southern accent, and Adam rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “Don’t be like that. You know I’m happy to see you. And also that supernatural catastrophes are not exactly uncommon in our lives.”

Ronan looked uncomfortable for a brief second, dropping his façade of bravado for the first time since he’d shown up. He awkwardly raised the food containers.

“Chinese food.”

Adam blinked, because he had a feeling about where this was going but surely it couldn’t be right.

“Specifically, the shitty Chinese food from the place behind St. Agnes.”

He was right.

“Ronan. 

“You’re welcome, dickbag. 

“Ronan.”

“What.” 

“It’s a seven hour drive--”

“Five hours if you know how to drive,” Ronan cut him off, his smile sharp and wicked. 

Part of Adam had a minor freak-out at the idea of Ronan barrelling towards New York at night with complete disregard for any speed limits, but he couldn’t worry about Ronan’s reckless driving right now, not when he was already trying to process all the rest of the Ronan’s ridiculousness.

“-it’s a five hour drive up here from Henrietta–”

“Yeah, so I better not hear you complain about the food being cold, you little shit.”

“--oh my God can you shut the fuck up for one second–”

“You have a microwave in this Ivy League sponsored dump, right?”

“Ronan.”

The emphasis eventually got him to shut up and look at Adam, and now Adam could see it, the vulnerability underneath the bluster, Ronan’s mind already working hard to convince him that it had been a stupid mistake, that he was being ridiculous right now, that the whole situation was embarrassing. Adam didn’t know when he’d started being able to read Ronan so well, but his heart ached with it.

“You sounded tired, and shit.” Ronan offered, looking at his leather bracelets. “On the phone, earlier. And you said you missed the shitty Chinese food from back home, so I went and got you some. It’s not a big fucking deal, okay?” His voice would have sounded hostile to anyone who didn’t know better. Adam knew better.

Which meant he should have known better than to be surprised at all, but it was so hard to wrap his brain around, that this boy – this impossible boy – this man-shaped god, who had it in his power to create flowers and animals and brothers and entire landscapes – had heard Adam talk nostalgically about Henrietta’s shitty Chinese food five hours earlier during an offhand conversation, and here he was, five hours later, standing in Adam’s tiny shared kitchen with unholy amounts of cold take-out, looking thunderous and gorgeous and every inch the logic-defying miracle that he was. 

All because Adam sounded tired, and shit.

“Jesus,” Adam breathed.

“There’s no need to bring him into this, Parrish.”

“You’re insane.”

“Well, you’re not exactly the poster boy for sanity–”

“I love you,” Adam stated, cutting off the indignant bluster.

Ronan flushed an adorable shade of magenta. Adam knew better than to make fun of him for it, though he sometimes did anyway.

“Come on,” he said, taking Ronan by the hand. “Let’s go eat a shitton of cold, bad Chinese food.” He paused significantly, locking eyes with Ronan. “And chill.”  

Ronan’s eyes grew darker, pupils blown out, because at some point along the ridiculous and perfect ride that was their relationship, making fun of memes they both found overused had turned into foreplay.

“Wait,” he said, very reluctantly. “I thought you were supposed to study for a biology final.”

“Did I say biology?” Adam hummed, pursing his lips in mock thoughtfulness. “My bad. I meant anatomy, obviously.”

A moment later, Ronan was wrapped around him, melting against his mouth, and suddenly, just like that – Adam was home.

[violetandstarlightgirl]

Sacrilege, Chapter One

aka the Thiefshipping fic I came up with because I just wanted to write something with the title “Sacrilege”. 

Read on AO3! 

Sacrilege (n.)- the misuse or desecration of anything regarded as sacred or as worthy of extreme respect

The terms of their partnership weren’t strict, per se, but it wasn’t bad to assume any ties the two made with each other would be cut-off as soon as the goals of one or both of them were met. Nevertheless, accidents were bound to happen; certainly both of them ought to have known after getting this far...

It was only supposed to be a brief affair. Was affair even the word you would use for this sort of thing? Marik didn’t know for sure. He was certain it had something to do with the minimal amount of people he spoke to throughout his life. 

In any case, he knew at first he didn’t mind the briefness of his partnership with the Spirit of the Millennium Ring--no, he had a name...it was Yami Bakura--and he knew there was a chance they wouldn’t succeed at reaching either of their goals. That was a bit of a given considering how spontaneous his partner tended to be. He had to do most if not all of the planning, but he appreciated the other’s enthusiasm, even if it made a mess.

But within the next few days, and with each conversation they had with each other, an abrupt realization struck Marik in the face one day, and as small as it was it changed the entirety of the way he saw this mission. He didn’t want to part ways with Bakura when this was over.

The biggest problem was figuring out what to do with these new feelings. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and frankly it scared him a little. 

“Just tell him how you feel, I’m certain he’ll understand,” Rishid had told him. He was the only one who knew about Marik’s situation.

“But what if he doesn’t understand?” Marik asked. 

“If you can’t tell him, then show him.” Rishid stood up. “Master Marik, you mustn't let this overwhelm you. The sooner you can get your feelings out, regardless of the outcome, the better you’ll feel.”

Marik took those words to heart. As soon as he at least got those words out of his head he would feel better, the weight would be gone. He’d bring it up in his next meet-up with Bakura.

The day came. It was cloudy and dim for a summer morning, and Marik wasn’t used to the humidity. He snuck off to an alleyway, much like the one he drove through when he first came here about a week before. Bakura was already there; arms crossed over his chest and leaning back against the wall. With the way his eyes were closed and his head tilted slightly skyward, he seemed to be napping.

The illusion broke when his eyes flashed open and he turned his head slowly toward the other. “You’re late,” he growled. “When did you start keeping track of the time?” Marik asked, unable to stop himself from grinning.

“Usually you’re the one who has to wait for me to show up, not the other way around. I don’t like it this way.” Bakura eyed his companion as if looking for something out of the ordinary. Finally, he spoke up again, “You look different this morning.”

Marik flushed a little. “I do?”

“Yes. You look like you’re itching to tell me something.” He was...but now he didn’t know if this was the right time to tell him. His chest felt hot like a fire was kindling in there. “Actually...there is something I’d like to talk to you about before we get on with it.” Bakura raised an eyebrow, adjusting his posture a little but keeping his arms firmly crossed. “Go on.”

Panic rose in his throat in place of actual words. Time seemed to crawl in the few seconds before his response, and a small part of his brain was screaming at him to bail out before things got ugly. However, a larger part of his brain urged him onward.“I’ve been thinking about...our previous arrangements,” he began, “where you said we’d part ways as unlikely friends. I...don’t think that’ll be happening.”

There was a scoff. Bakura had unfolded his arms and had placed his hands on his hips. “What do you mean by that? I thought it was made quite clear you couldn’t help me find the remaining Items unless I helped you in turn, and so far that isn’t working for either of us.”

That’s right; things weren’t working out too well on their end.

Marik was running out of things to say, and he was certain that even the plainest way of saying how he felt would fall upon deaf ears.

“I don’t care,” he murmured, “I enjoy working with you even if everything’s been going south lately. And I’m sure you’ve been enjoying it, too.” He gave a forced laugh. “I mean, when was the last time you met somebody who didn’t actually freak out in your presence?”

Bakura said nothing, standing still as a statue with a blank expression on his face. 

Marik decided to continue, feeling a little braver with every word he said. “It’s true this was only supposed to last until we achieved one or both of our goals, or by the looks of things when the Spirit of the Puzzle screws us both over. But as I’ve been spending more time talking to you, I’ve felt something I haven’t felt before. It’s something I want to be able to enjoy for a long time, and I’m scared it’s going to go away when we finish our affairs here. Don’t you know what it’s like to be that scared? So scared you can’t imagine your life going on beyond that moment where everything falls apart?!”

No response. Not even the bat of an eyelash. Even an argument against what he was saying would have been better than this!

Marik clenched his hands into fists, genuinely considering turning around and walking away, but he remembered Rishid’s advice.

If you can’t tell him, then show him.

He looked back up. Bakura was still standing close to the wall, and he still wasn’t saying anything. Here goes everything...

He moved so fast he could barely process what he was doing, but within the next moment he had firmly pinned Bakura against the wall and was kissing him hard. Marik hadn’t kissed anyone before, and the panic that had been building up inside of him up to this point was making him desperate. He just continued kissing, only parting briefly and a hair’s length away from Bakura’s mouth for one moment to catch his breath. Something still didn’t feel quite right, though. 

Suddenly he was knocked away with a snap ringing in his ears and his right cheek stinging as though it were on fire. He stumbled to the side and fell onto his rear, glancing up to see Bakura taking a defensive posture with his left arm out. 

“It’d do you a great deal of good to slow down when you talk,” he growled, wiping his mouth in a way that would suggest he had just ingested poison, “and you could at least give me a damn minute to process this gibberish you’re spewing rather than pin me to the wall. Need I remind you that this isn’t my corporeal body?”

Marik’s lip curled. “That didn’t stop you from nearly slicing off your whole arm. Why should that stop what I was doing? Compared to that this was completely harmless!”

Bakura stepped over Marik. Even the clouds seemed to get a bit darker and he could’ve sworn he felt a raindrop or two land on him. “You’re damn lucky I don’t have a weapon on me at the moment,” Bakura snarled, “because I wouldn’t have hesitated to slice open your throat instead of striking you across the face. If you would like our partnership to continue--and I’m quite certain you do, given your soliloquy from a moment ago--I would strongly advise against doing that again. Are we clear?”

Marik couldn’t say a word; his head was fogged and no logical sounds could form. He only nodded obediently. 

Bakura smirked, and his teeth seemed to flash in the dim light. “Good. I was beginning to worry you had lost all of your common sense. Now, before we actually get to our original plans, I’d like a moment to recollect my dignity.”

And with that, he walked out of the alleyway, leaving Marik alone with the static in his brain just as the heavens opened and rain poured upon them both.  

[nirikeehan]

Power, Politics and Star Wars: Armitage Hux Edition

I read this article that tried to explain what Hux did in TROS and justify it and I was just not feeling it so I wrote a whole thing about it. So I thought, why not post it.

https://dorksideoftheforce.com/2019/12/22/star-wars-tros-general-hux/

I just wanna start by saying yes, I understand the logic of what happened in the film as explained by this article. I'm just here to challenge exactly what happened, why, and the article writer's attempts to justify it, because I don't find them to be an accurate summation of Hux's character. 

"It’s not hard to miss that the way The Last Jedi framed his character was very different from what we saw in The Force Awakens. At first, it almost felt as though he was a completely different character, having gone from Nazi-like general to an officer everyone refused to take seriously."

Right, and I think it's worth trying to examine why that shift in portrayal happened – behind the scenes. The writing changed hands from TFA with Lawrence Kasdan & JJ Abrams to Rian Johnson. So, clearly Johnson decided to go in a different direction with Hux. But why? Was it a continuing ploy to "subvert expectations" like he did so much in TLJ? Hence, if Hux was big and scary in the first film (obvious Nazi parallels in imagery and speech, commits literal genocide while hordes of stormtroopers look on), he had to be... silly, ineffectual and easily mocked in the second? Why?

Maybe it fits into a larger theme with Rian Johnson's writing, like... it seems like authority figures can (and should, maybe?) not be taken seriously? Think of all the authority figures in the Last Jedi. With the notable exception of Leia (who has such an iconic history) and Holdo I guess (random insert without much substance in my opinion), every single character who is, could be or once was in a position of power is cut down to size in some way. 

Luke Skywalker - crotchety old man. 

Poe - too hotheaded, needs to learn his place. 

Kylo - emo boy in a mask. 

Hux - butt of yo mama jokes. 

Snoke - literally cut in half. 

While I like this technique in some ways (I think I'm in the minority as someone who actually liked Luke being a disillusioned asshole lol, I thought it made him more interesting; and pointing out the obvious that Kylo is a conflicted try hard made him way more human and relatable to me), doing it to this extent was excessive. Especially in a film series that is supposed to have clearly defined villains. While I like the murder of Snoke because it was unexpected and it let Kylo actually have some agency to try to take over the galaxy on his own, you can't do it with every villain, or the audience isn't going to think anything is at stake anymore. So it always played really weird to me that Hux was taken from General Genocide to the target of slapstick humor. Which brings me to the next point...

"Looking back, it’s possible to interpret this as the result of how other characters viewed and treated him from that point forward, rather than an actual drastic change to the way he was portrayed. It’s possible that after Starkiller Base, the masses lost great respect for him — on both sides. He is no longer a man to fear. He’s General Hugs. He doesn’t scare anyone."

I just don't see how this is possible, to be honest. Like yeah, Starkiller base was lost, but surely not before it destroyed the entire Hosnian system, which, from what I understand, contained the entire seat of New Republic government. So I assume that means the president, vice president, whoever else was in the executive branch, all of the Senate, etc etc. Like imagine some terrorist leader called down a laser from space and obliterated all of Washington, D.C. while the President and all staff were in the White House, Congress was in session and the Supreme Court was hearing cases. We'd be like, oh my god, everyone's gone, we have no federal government, what the fuck. Even if the American army managed to destroy the weapon that did it, there'd still be basically irreparable damage to the very structure of the government and its ability to function. (Sounds like the plot of a future Michael Bay movie, but I digress.) 

The point is, whoever was responsible for the attack would probably still be pretty fearsome to the masses. And in Hux's case, considering his goal in TFA seems to be to usurp the New Republic and replace it with the First Order, at the end of the first film, he seems to be in a perfect position to do exactly that... which is why I was super confused as to why he spent TLJ chasing down like 30 rebels, who were already basically defeated?? Like, now would have been the time to take over! Don't just leave that power vacuum sitting there, buddy! Someone else is gonna fill it if you don't! (More proof I don't think Rian Johnson has cracked many history books, but the lack of coherent political framework is a major failing of the sequels in general, so it's not all entirely on his shoulders. He did seem like he was trying to engage with some of these ideas i.e. Canto Bight illustrating the evils of the military industrial complex, but they fell so flat because he just wasn't that informed about the socio-political commentary he was trying to make.) 

"This is further evidenced by the way Kylo Ren treats him the moment he becomes Supreme Leader of the First Order. Kylo quite literally begins pushing him around, constantly putting him in his place, belittling him, and making him look incompetent and expendable."

LOL this is such a fundamental misinterpretation of Kylo and Hux's relationship at the end of TLJ. Kylo didn't start pushing Hux around because everyone had lost respect for his authority. Kylo starts pushing Hux around because Kylo killed Snoke and took the Supreme Leader role himself, giving himself a BIG promotion over Hux. He went from like, army commander to freaking king. He's on a power trip, trying to assert his authority not just over Hux, but literally everyone in the First Order. The dialogue (handily linked by the article above) between them after Snoke's death very clearly states this:

Hux: Who do you think you're talking to? You presume to command my army? Our Supreme Leader is dead! We have no ruler!

Kylo: *starts choking him* The Supreme Leader is dead.

Hux: *choking* Long live the Supreme Leader. 

Kylo is subduing Hux by violence and coercion and filling the power vacuum himself (see, that's what happens to power vacuums, usually the most brutal asshole around arrives to fill it!). That's not something Hux brought upon himself in any way; it's something Kylo took by force. Hux isn't the only one following Kylo's orders by the Battle of Crait, the rest of the First Order army is also because they're all too terrified of Kylo to question him. Somehow making this only about Hux and Kylo as individuals is a really narrow-minded, boring interpretation of pretty much my favorite part of TLJ. 

"And here lies the deep change within Hux that leads us into The Rise of Skywalker. General Hux knew he would never regain anyone’s respect. He knew that Kylo Ren would continue to publicly humiliate him. He knew his chances of ever being able to regain power in the traditional sense were lost."

I still don't see how this is possible, especially since as far as I know there's no supplementary canon material to back this idea up. The article writer is grasping at straws trying to make sense of TROS's nonsensical character choices for Hux. There's all sorts of ways Hux could still regain power. I don't even know what "in the traditional sense" means? Hoping for a promotion, maybe? Sure, he could suck up to Kylo and make himself invaluable to Kylo's continued status as Supreme Leader (this is the route I took in my fanfic, since it seemed pretty plausible; Hux is set up to be the brain to Kylo's brawn). He could have Kylo assassinated and take over himself. He could recruit a whole faction of people to mutiny against Kylo. He could even sell out Kylo to the Resistance, sure, which I guess is what he was doing in TROS, but all of that is still in service of regaining power for himself.

"Hux is so angry with Kylo Ren, and filled with so much rage toward all he is and all he stands for, that he decides it does not matter which side of the war wins as long as the Supreme Leader isn’t on the winning team."

Again, I don't think this has shown to be true at all before TROS. By all appearances, Hux's goal has always been obtaining power, and the supplementary canon with his backstory seems to support this. There's so much with his father being an old Imperial and Hux growing up with the old imperial ideology and the belief that returning to some semblance of the Empire would be the most ideal outcome of the First Order's war on the New Republic. And by this logic, shouldn't Hux be thrilled by the (totally outlandish) possibility that Emperor Palpatine himself would come back to rule? Imagine all the Nazi holdovers after World War II finding out Hitler had RISEN FROM THE DEAD. They'd probably be pretty excited, no? 

But this is why reducing Hux's character to some petty asshole who has no personal values or larger ideology and just "wants to see Kylo Ren lose" is so dumb and boring to me. It means he literally no longer cares about his own personal ambitions or that of his larger ideological ones. Everything he worked for his whole life, countless hours of blood, sweat and tears, deciding to commit genocide of billions of innocent people to get the galaxy to fall in line with his vision........ amounts to literally nothing. As long as Kylo loses their little schoolyard tiff. 

Nah, I don't buy it. 

But this just speaks to generally larger problems in the sequel trilogy with the writers not having a strong grasp on the mechanisms of political power in the universe they're working with. In the films, who's fighting who and why has always been painfully vague and often confusing (why wasn't the Resistance just the New Republic army in TFA? etc), but while at least Rian Johnson used TLJ to try to engage with some of these questions of politics and power – albeit at times with cringeworthy naïveté  – TROS abandons it completely. It never once clarifies who's actually in charge here. Ostensibly it should be Kylo since he’s still got the title “Supreme Leader” in the opening scrawl, but he's running around chasing zombie Palpy! And the First Order is still very obviously still just a military operation focusing on the Resistance, so are all of the galaxy's sectors just... self-governing right now? If so, why? 

TROS's complete abandonment of the notion that anyone in this universe could even want power was completely baffling to me. It's always about power. The original trilogy was about power. Even the prequels were about power (to a micromanage-y, super boring degree. Embargoes! Trade disputes! Senate meetings with votes of no confidence!) To bring Palpatine back from the dead to make him some weirdo with a death cult who just wants the whole galaxy to die (I guess?)... none of that's compelling to me. And it seems to completely misunderstand (or willingly sidestep) any kind of interesting real world parallels, of which the original trilogy had plenty (and the 90s era EU/Legends novels in particular were really good at engaging with, probably why they're my favorite entries in the whole franchise). Which does play into my cynical suspicion that TROS was deliberately sterilized of any potential political commentary by Disney to appease the increasingly authoritarian governments in their international market. Can't have those pesky human rights cutting into their profits. :/