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mirthful-sonnet · 3 years

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Rise Above the Ashes | Chapter 3

Summary: Jean and Mikasa find a remedy against their nightmares, Armin has an announcement, and despite the political tensions in Paradis the peace negotiations go forward.

Notes: Thanks once again to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading this <3

Warning: None

Ao3

Time was a blur that now consisted of nothing but restlessness and constant visits to the hospital.

That didn’t matter to Mikasa.

A restful sleep was something alien to her. She might as well spend her time beside Jean, trying to make up for yet another failing on her part.

It had all happened too fast, but she knew that the man could have reached her if Jean had not stepped in first. Her thoughts were too muddled, with the quietness of the hospital making the violent scene and Jean’s drug-induced confession echo inside her head.

I think I even loved you. Since we were trainees.

She was aware that he had a crush on her back then, something she had easily ignored. Yet knowing the depth of it and that he possibly still felt the same brought plenty of surprise and confusion.

Did he still feel the same way for her? No, that was impossible, and she could not bring herself to acknowledge it. Even the thought of doing it terrified her. He certainly showed no signs of remembering his words once he woke up again, and she didn’t expect him to. Not when he was still battling between life and death.

She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of death, at the mere idea of Jean dying. He had proved himself stronger and more stubborn than anyone had expected.

The doctor had described his case as nothing short of a miracle, as one of Jean’s lungs had collapsed and he had caught an infection that led to a critical fever. They had inserted a tube into his chest to help drain the excess blood and air caused by the wounds, and this morning they had finally removed it. While there was still pain, he was alive and that’s what mattered.

During the entire treatment, Mikasa remained by his side.

Jean constantly told her to go home and rest, but she rarely listened, opting to watch over him when Jean’s mother wasn’t around. She took a break from her volunteering at the orphanage and her work passing down messages to the queen. The rest of the group continued their negotiations while she and Mrs. Kirschtein watched over Jean.

Meeting Jean’s mother had brought her an unexpected sense of inner peace, her warm and caring personality making it easier to confront the guilt and uncertainty that plagued her. It took every ounce of composure to keep her from breaking down and falling on her knees with apologies when she met Mrs. Kirschtein.

The woman had smiled kindly at her, saying that she was happy that Jean had a friend looking after him so thoroughly. The reassurance in her hazel eyes was more than enough to make her feel better. It came unbidden, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of her own mother. The light that had been cruelly snuffed out of her life when her age could still be counted with her fingers.

While she felt a strange ache when watching them, she also liked to see Mrs.Kirschtein still fuss around her son, who could only roll his eyes while hiding a smile, clearly glad to have her present.

She immediately admired the lady, who put on a brave face despite the terror that had almost taken her son away from her. Mikasa had unintentionally witnessed her in such a vulnerable state during the early stages of Jean’s recovery that she had felt like an intruder.

It hadn’t been long since Jean’s mother arrived, having immediately taken the first train that was available to come to the capital with nothing but her garments and a broken heart. Mikasa had just returned but stopped when she saw her beside Jean’s unconscious form through the gap of the room’s door, fitting woolen socks over his limp feet as her only son battled for his life.

“Remember that time you fell down while playing with the neighborhood kids? I held you tight and you kept complaining about how you would be able to learn to take care of me if I kept fussing around you as if you were a baby.” She had said as she fit the blankets around his shivering form, a slight tremor in her voice as if she was trying not to cry. “You were always such a sweet child. Now look at you, a grown man but still getting into trouble. It won’t matter how older you get, because mom will always be here to take care of you.” Mikasa strained to look at the woman’s slouched shape, now crying freely. “Because you are still my little boy, my sun, and my sweet child.”

Mikasa realized then that there were tears streaming down her own cheeks as she watched the grieving mother. With one last glance, she had decided to leave them alone.

Now she was back in front of his room, holding a bag full of extra blankets and a packaged meal. At the same time, Mrs. Kirschtein opened the door to exit, startled at seeing Mikasa.

“Mikasa!” She exclaimed. “How lovely to see you! Although I thought you were back at your house resting.”

Mikasa shook her head, not wanting to explain that she barely got any rest as her sleep was filled with nightmares of blood and unforgiving steel.

“I slept for a good enough time,” she lied, “I figured I could bring more stuff for him. It’s the least I can do.”

The woman’s hazel gaze was gentle, reaching out to grasp her free hand. “My dear, there’s nothing more you could possibly do for my son. You have rarely left his side! Please don’t strain yourself so much, now I’ll have to fret over you too.”

Mikasa could only smile, squeezing back her hand. The bittersweet ache came back as she remembered her mother again, and she wondered if Jean had the same kind of memories with his mom when he was a child. Did she hold him when he had nightmares? Did she sing to the scars on his knees when he fell?

“My son still likes to act all haughty sometimes, but he cares so much. And he is worried for you. We both are.” The older woman added, looking genuinely concerned as she took in Mikasa’s weary appearance.

Mikasa knew the circles under her eyes must have given her away. “I know, Mrs. Kirschtein. I’m just…I care for him too. And this is the least I could do for all the trouble he put himself in for me.”

Her voice had come out weak, as she remembered that this wasn’t the first time Jean had saved her. Mrs. Kirschtein looked at her in disapproval. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, sweet girl. My son told me what you did to that horrible man who hurt him, and I couldn’t thank you enough for protecting him. I have only known you for a few weeks, but I have come to think of you as my daughter. That’s why I’m asking you to take it easy and allow yourself to rest and not worry. If not for Jean, then do it for me.”

Something jolted in her suddenly and she surged forward to hug the older woman tightly, with tears gathered in her eyes and a lump in her throat. She was mildly embarrassed, but the woman’s motherly affection had touched a part of her that had been hollow since she was that wide-eyed child living in the mountains. The older woman had stiffened momentarily at Mikasa’s unexpected reaction, but after a moment she hugged her back just as tightly, happy to offer the girl even just a little bit of comfort.

***

Jean’s coughs echoed along the hallway as he stopped to catch his breath.

“I don’t think this was a good idea,” Mikasa said, her hold on Jean’s hand faltering. He was already recovered enough to walk, but he still had to strain sometimes to breathe properly.

“Hah, don’t worry about this,” Jean managed to get out as he got his breath back and continued walking while holding onto Mikasa.

“If I spent any more time cooped up in that room, I would have jumped out from the window already. Then we would all be having regrets,” he added, his steps somewhat clumsy but still steady.

The hallway was dead silent, with bluish moonbeams filtering through the windows. The only sounds were those of their steps. Jean had wanted to take a walk since he felt suffocated in his room, and Mikasa insisted on walking with him.

“Stop being morbid,” Mikasa chided him.

Jean snorted; his breath was still strained. “It comes naturally these days.”

Mikasa looked at him, taking in the weariness permeating the smile on his face. A walking contradiction. There was still no sign of him remembering what he had said weeks ago in his delirious state. She suddenly gripped his arm tightly without noticing and he turned to her, a questioning look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, his concern evident. It seemed like such a Jean thing to worry over her while he was the one who had been on the brink of death.

“Jean, I…” She trailed off, not really knowing what to say, or how to acknowledge his past confession.

“What is it?” He asked.

Mikasa paused and then just shook her head, afraid that she would say the wrong thing. “It’s nothing, I just don’t want you to joke like that.”

Jean gave her a small smile and they continued walking. It felt odd to be able to walk like this again, even if his steps were awkward. His days had been filled with medications and therapy, visits from his friends, and the usual nightmares that were forgotten once he woke up and saw that Mikasa was still by his side.

The visits brought him great comfort, whether it was Connie bringing him books to read, Armin suddenly opening a chessboard mid-conversation, Reiner reading letters from Falco and Gabi aloud, Pieck talking endlessly about new spots she had discovered in town, or Annie sneaking in donuts (her favorite treat) for him to eat.

Right now, he was glad to break from the usual routine even if just for a while, and Mikasa remaining by his side made everything better. He only wished she didn’t feel so guilty or even felt the need to trouble herself so much for him.

Jean almost found their current situation amusing. It seemed that he had spent half of his life wanting Mikasa’s attention while she looked elsewhere, something that he could never resent her for. But now they were here together in the most uncertain of circumstances, caught up in the middle of trying to build a paradise out of a blank canvas.

Armin constantly gave him updates on the progress of the treaty and other legislations that had been approved. Historia also sent him notes notifying him about their progress and wishing him a speedy recovery since she couldn’t come in person. As a monarch, it wasn’t possible, and she had to juggle her favors carefully.

Their efforts had not been interrupted despite the attack, which Jean was immensely relieved about. He knew, however, that they could not let their guard down as it was clear that the hatred from their adversaries would not stop there. His wounded body was now the tangible evidence of that hatred. The culprits were awaiting a trial, and Yeagerist officials had sent a half-hearted apology for what happened.

Bastards.

Now there was an upcoming ceremony for the peace treaty to be signed, which would be highlighted by the first ever air show on the island. A demonstration of peace that also displayed the military and technological advancements that were taking place at a rapid speed in the country.

“Are you sure you’re ready to leave?” Mikasa’s voice interrupted him from his thoughts. She had an unreadable expression on her face.

“Of course, I am. I have gone from breaking a dozen bones to turning into a titan. A knife in my lung is nothing to me.”

Mikasa was quiet for a moment, pondering on his words. “What was it like?”

“Hmm?”

“Turning into a titan. What was that like?” Mikasa asked as they turned in a corner and faced another hallway.

Jean paused for a moment until he finally spoke. “I’m not sure I remember exactly what happened. At one point it was just me and Connie holding onto each other, wondering if what we did was enough. And then…it was just nothingness. Some part of me was alive and conscious, but the rest…well, it was like I had no control over myself. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.”

They kept walking slowly, their shapes casting shadows on the blank walls. At least in those moments that had seemed final he had not been alone. After the rumbling, he always had his friends with him, the terror they had faced linking all of them permanently. But Mikasa had to bear the weight of the aftermath by herself.

“I bet I looked handsome as a titan,” he tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t remember. I just took off without so much as a goodbye.” Mikasa muttered.

Jean stopped in his tracks, tightening his hold on her hand so she would look at him. “Hey now, what is this? Nobody can blame you for how you reacted after doing what you did. I don’t think I would have even had the strength to keep going, but you did anyway.”

“But I could have-” Mikasa started.

“Stop, you’re here with me now, aren’t you?” He interrupted.

Mikasa wanted to protest again, but something about Jean’s expression made her stay quiet, and she only nodded. Deep down she knew he had a point. Killing Eren had been like tearing out her own limbs, leaving behind an empty shell of a girl, a kite cut off from its string, left to drift aimlessly. But the guilt she felt over leaving her friends behind to face whatever came their way was still there. Even mourning Eren made her feel terrible, as she struggled to reconcile the boy who had saved her with the one who had caused so much destruction and suffering. In a way, being here was a way of atoning for all the time she didn’t spend with the group, who had to face and struggle to fix the outcome of that destruction. But a more selfish part of her just wanted to spend more time near Jean.

“I do think though,” Jean said as they continued walking, “that you would have loved all the places we visited.”

Jean had told her about them, weaving stories about the cherry blossoms of Hizuru, the vast deserts of the Middle Eastern countries, the icy weather of the northern isles, and the active nightlife at Marley’s emerging cities. There was something extraordinary about how humanity was finding a way to rise back up despite the destruction that happened. There was still a long way to go, but little details like the ones he recounted to Mikasa gave him some hope for the future.

Mikasa loved to hear about the different places they visited, inevitably thinking about Eren and Armin’s dreams of going outside the walls. At that point in time, she had never taken much part of their dream, happy to simply watch their enthusiasm about the outside world. But listening to Jean’s stories made her feel as if she were treading through those landscapes herself.

“Maybe I’ll see some of those places eventually,” she said, letting him stretch his arms as he walked, still holding onto her hand.

“If by some chance you find yourself lost in a hellhole like Marley’s capital, I have a spare room in my apartment,” Jean commented, taking another pause to catch his breath before continuing to walk.

Mikasa looked at him. “You’ve told me dozens of stories about your travels, but I haven’t heard much from the place you live in.”

Jean was thoughtful for a moment. “The capital city is a nice place. At least right now it is. When I arrived, it was mostly rubble and shelters for refugees. The summers were infernal too.” He told her. “But I did meet some good people there, and everyone worked hard to preserve what was left and rebuild what was destroyed. Despite everything, I think…that I miss it somehow.”

It was true, he didn’t think that he would ever come to think of Marley as his permanent home, but he had still made some memories there that he held dear. The good times, the bad times, the friends, and the lovers he had there, they were all a part of him too.

Mikasa asked him for more details, and he went on to tell her about all the work they did in the shelters, how he had painted the walls of his apartment when he found them too plain, and the neighbors who introduced him to Marleyan cuisine and the subsequent disaster he had caused trying to cook an octopus. It made Mikasa laugh, picturing a frantic Jean trying not to burn his apartment down.

He also told her about the historical landmarks that survived the rumbling, the capital square that held all the government buildings, the hectic nightlife at the entertainment quarter, and the different dialects and languages he had discovered.

“I was terrible at first,” Jean commented, “I earned a good slap from a girl when I tried speaking to her in her dialect.”

“What did you tell her?” Mikasa asked.

“Something about my privates when I just wanted to ask her name,” Jean replied, his face flushed in embarrassment.

Mikasa stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound ringing through the quiet hallway. His embarrassing memory was forgotten as he took her in, not used to seeing her laughing so freely.

“I’m sorry-” she tried to say between bouts of laughter, failing to control it. “Oh no, that’s terrible but so funny Jean!”

She continued laughing until she finally had some control of herself. Then she looked at him and noticed that he was staring at her with something she could only describe as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mikasa asked between chuckles, her flushed face now matching his despite the darkness of the hallway.

“Oh-um sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen you laugh like that before,” he looked away, flustered. “It’s nice.”

Mikasa felt her cheeks burn more fiercely and she let go of his hand to go near one of the windows in the hallway, calming herself down. She didn’t remember if she ever laughed like that before. Something about Jean made smiling and laughing easy instead of a struggle.

He was standing beside her now, taking in her reddened face and black hair coming loose from her hair tie. Anyone would say she looked disheveled and tired, but he only marveled at how effortlessly beautiful she was even now. He truly was hopeless, wasn’t he?

“I guess it’s new to me too,” she was still not looking at him. “Your tales, they make me happy.”

“I’m glad,” he muttered, turning to look at the outlines of the city buildings. “All these things I’ve been telling you, the places I have seen and the people I have met… they’re all still standing because of you, Mikasa.”

Mikasa immediately shook her head in denial. “No, I-”

“It’s the truth,” he interrupted, unnerved that Mikasa thought so lowly of herself. “The people that have survived and find a reason to smile and hope every day, the way everything is rising back up even better than before, you made it possible.”

She shifted in her feet, slightly flustered at his open praise. It wasn’t just her. All of them had helped stop Eren, she wanted to say. Plus, her friends were the ones who were working tirelessly to bring peace. But she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt from his words, from the anecdotes that proved that not everything was lost.

“Thanks, Jean,” she simply said, now thinking of something else she had been meaning to tell him but didn’t know how to.

They remained in comfortable silence, looking at the sleeping city before them. Before Jean could tell her that they had to go back, she finally spoke.

“Jean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Mikasa murmured, twiddling her thumbs. “Since you’re already set to be discharged and will have to follow up your treatment, I was thinking…why don’t you stay at my house?”

She had said the last words too fast, but Jean’s face made it clear that he understood her.

“What? N-no Mikasa, I can’t,” he stammered while shaking his head, “I’ll be fine in my lodgings, I can take care of myself.”

Mikasa felt her heart sink at his words, but she persisted. “I know you can… but they expect you to follow a strict routine and you’re still struggling to even walk and breathe. You’re going to need someone to help you and the rest of the group won’t be able to be there when you need it. Please, Jean, let me do this for you.”

Jean only shook his head again, even if he knew what she said was true. The group would be at the council every day while Armin gave him time off to fully recover. His mom was set to go back to Trost tomorrow after he had convinced her that he was fine and would be looked after, something that was a partial lie since he didn’t really have anyone but himself. They expected him to follow strict medications which was no problem to him, but he also had to dress and clean his wounds routinely while also having to work and do normal chores.

“Mikasa, I really appreciate it, but I can’t burden you with my condition. I promise that I’ll be fine.” His tone was firm, but the more he denied it the more desperate she became to convince him.

“You’re not a burden Jean. You could never be a burden to me. That’s why I’m asking you to consider it. This isn’t the first time you have put yourself in harm’s way for me. This is…this is the least I can do.”

Jean frowned, a little taken aback that she remembered that he had saved her once before. “What do you mean it’s the least you could do? You have done more than enough for me just by staying by my side. Don’t do this out of pity or just because you feel that you need to compensate me for something. I would take those stabbings a thousand times again if I had to.”

“It’s not out of pity!” Mikasa’s voice was shrill, which neither of them expected, and Jean blanched slightly at her tone. She reached out to grasp his arm and bowed her head, silently apologizing for raising her voice. “I want to help you,” she whispered, “it would mean everything to me if you would let me help you. We agreed that we would always be there for each other, and I meant that. Please let me help you, Jean.”

He exhaled sharply, trying to hold on to even just a sliver of stubbornness, but watching her pleading face made whatever resolve he had finally break.

Jean let out another exhale and finally nodded. “All right…I’ll stay with you, Mikasa.”

The smile that lit up her face made it worth it to him, and whatever protests he still had were quickly forgotten.

“Good, thank you, Jean.” She replied, and he wondered why she was thanking him when she was the one burdening herself for him.

He stepped forward, unable to help himself, and took a stray lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll try to be a good guest.”

“As long as no octopus is involved, I’m not worried.” Mikasa deadpanned.

This time it was his laughter ringing through the hallway.

***

Life as a soldier had taught Jean to get accustomed to every circumstance possible. So, in that way, Jean easily got used to living with Mikasa.

It wasn’t a big house, but it was enough. He had his own room and it was suitable for the work he would continue to do from a distance.

They fall into an easy routine, a small semblance of normality in a pattern filled with triggers and bad dreams.

He wakes up, the tremors of his nightmares still permeating his body as he helps Mikasa prepare coffee and breakfast, never ignorant of the stiffness in her movements during the early hours of the morning as well. No doubt still stunned by her own nightly terrors. But they are grateful that the worst kind of nightmares are kept at bay for now, and their demons lay forgotten when they greet each other and make small talk over their meal.

Mikasa learns just how stubborn Jean can be, as despite his condition he insists on helping her with every chore around the house. She only relents slightly when it comes to cooking, with Jean making savory omelets that she can’t get enough of.

There are times when her curiosity threatens to get the best of her, where she wants to ask him what he meant by his dazed confession, but she stops herself in time. She pushes it into a hidden corner of her mind to avoid breaking this bubble of comfort - this castle in the sky they were building together.

Jean on the other hand learned how fussy she could be, a trait he had somewhat noticed back then with Eren and Armin. But now he finds himself as the target of her attention, and it’s a little overwhelming. Amid her attention, he also notices how odd she acts around him sometimes-as if she wanted to tell him something but kept herself from doing so. He didn’t want to pressure her into anything, so he doesn’t question her about it. Instead, he is endlessly grateful; for her watchful eyes when he is walking alone, for the snacks she leaves on his desk as he drowns himself in paperwork, and for her presence in general.

“I think Mikasa is looking to replace me as your mother”

Jean grimaced. “Mom, please don’t start.”

“I’m only telling the truth, Jeanbo. She’s been watching over you like a hawk! It’s almost like I’m not needed around here.” His mom said, a teasing undertone in her voice.

“Mikasa has always been protective and she…well she feels guilty over what happened. I don’t know how to make her understand that none of this is her fault.” He sighed; with the book he was reading now forgotten across his lap.

“She’s a caring girl, that one. I am sure she will understand eventually. But for now, just be grateful that you have someone like her in your life, Jeanbo.”

Jean stayed quiet, taking in her words, and then shook his head. “I’ll also be grateful when you stop calling me that and never mention that Mikasa’s my new mom again.”

“You’re right. I think daughter-in-law is more fitting.”

“MOM!”

He was only met with endless laughter.

It was an extraordinary thing, the solace one could find just by having another person close. Mikasa learns it through the easy rhythm they fall into in the kitchen, the little talks over the table, when they relax in the backyard, with their clothes loose due to the summer heat and faces flushed by the sun; through the endless stories he has from his travels, the concentration in his face when he’s sketching, or just the simple knowledge that he is here, living and breathing. Despite the guardedness that he still shows around her, the glimpses that she does get of his mind make her want to see the world through his eyes. She has always said that the world is cruel and beautiful, but when he is here, she can only see beauty.

There’s a glint in his hazel eyes when he tells her about the places they have been to that brings her an odd type of comfort. It’s one of the many quirks and details she notices about him. Their routine makes it impossible not to notice small details about each other.

He notices that she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s embarrassed, she notices how the warm honey hues of his eyes can change color depending on the lighting, he notes the secret dimple on her left cheek if she smiles enough, she sees the way he scratches his ear when thinking hard about something, he’s transfixed by how much her grey eyes remind him of passing clouds, and she discovers that there are more scatterings of freckles and moles on his neck and arms.

This last detail she discovers during the daily procedure of changing his bandages. As former soldiers, they have found themselves in similar situations before. But the horrors of war are not around them anymore; now it’s just the both of them in the quietness of her house.

It takes great patience to convince him to let her help him, his protests that he can do it himself eventually drowned out. But when he bares his chest and the map of scars adorning it, she sometimes wonders if this was a good idea at all.

“Gruesome, huh?” He tells her one day, avoiding her eyes as his buttoned shirt lays open.

Mikasa snaps out of her stupor, immediately frowning. “Not at all, I’ve seen worse.”

She goes on to remove the bandages, trying not to wince along with him, as if she could feel his pain somehow. The sighs that escape him as she cleans and rubs the ointment on his wounds make the hairs at the back of her neck rise. There is an inevitable shyness when she sees the toned muscles of his chest and abs, when she visually traces the constellations of freckles and moles that dot the planes of smooth skin, when she sees the beauty that lays under the vestiges of war.

“Will I live to see my grandchildren, Nurse Ackerman?” Jean teases as she finishes up the task.

“Only if you behave, Mr. Kirschtein.” She teases back, pressing down the last new bandage, right over his heart.

Yes, she could get used to this.

It is easy and comforting, their new routine. They fall into it so naturally that they can almost ignore the cracks in the picture.

Almost.

Perhaps they were too hopeful or too confident that they wouldn’t have to hear each other’s night terrors, but that illusion breaks one night in which Mikasa’s screams fill the house.

Jean sat upright in his bed, having just woken up from his own nightmares, with every scream sending a dreadful shiver down his spine.

Nightmares were his nightly companions, and he and all his friends had become quite familiar with each other’s screams. The thought that Mikasa had to go through her nightmares alone pained him. The screams continued until he could not stand it anymore and walked out despite the tremors that were still shaking his body, reaching her room in no time. Her hands were tearing at her hair, and she was screaming Eren’s name in one instance while in another she was wailing for her mother and father.

“Mikasa, wake up!” He held both of her hands tightly while she still trashed around. After a while, her screams had been reduced to small, broken whimpers. Under his tight hold she opened her eyes abruptly - her confusion clear amongst endless tears, and she suddenly grabbed Jean forcefully by his neckline as if he were a stranger.

“It’s me Mikasa, it’s me.” Jean whispered shakily, an unbearable tension passing between them before he slowly pries her hands off him.

“Jean?” Mikasa croaked, her voice hoarse from her screams. “I’m s-I’m so sorry, Jean.”

She could barely finish her sentence before she started sobbing, loud and broken. He remained rooted in his spot, at a loss on what to do and trying to ignore his own tremors, watching the woman he loved and the former soldier he had admired for so long cry her heart out, now listening instead to the cries of a little girl still calling for her parents.

He snapped out of his daze when she grasped at his shirt as if he were a lifeline in a sea of tears. When she turned to look at him, he wondered if it was possible to have your heart torn in two just over looking at another person’s face. She looked so broken that he wanted to somehow gather her inside his heart and let her remain there for as long as she wanted.

“Wh…w…” She tried to make out amongst her whimpers.

“Easy, easy, you’re okay now,” Jean told her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “What were you trying to say?”

“Why…why does it hurt so much?” She fixed him with her swollen eyes, “Why does it still hurt?”

He wished he had an answer to that. Even after all these years, he didn’t think the pain would ever really stop. So, he thinks he owes it to her to be honest.

“I don’t know, Mikasa.” He said, his voice breaking a little.

She pressed her forehead to his chest, still crying. He takes that as a cue and gently pulls her to him, an embrace that she quickly returns in such a way that they don’t know who is comforting who.

He thinks they must have remained like that for a good while, with him rocking her gently in his arms like a child while she grasped his lower back, trying to stop the tremors that were still shaking him.

The whimpers quiet down, and the tension in her body loosens, so he laid her down on the bed and waited for her to fall asleep. He made shushing noises while stroking her hand, noticing the signs of exhaustion taking over. She is looking at him with a dazed expression before tightening her hold on him.

“Jean?”

“What is it?”

“Can you stay with me?” She asks, her voice sleepy.

In any other occasion, he would have promptly denied her, deeming it too improper. But watching that look on her face and remembering the terrors that would still await him back in his room made him lose all sense.

Just one night. At least just one.

He gulped and nodded, moving to climb in and get under the covers. The immediate warmth that they feel is overwhelming, and they scramble to get closer as if each other’s touch will be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

She listened to his heartbeat, its steady pulse lulling her to sleep. His tremors died down under the gentle press of her hand, and he followed her into slumber soon after.

They have their first sleep without nightmares in years.

The moment when she wakes up in the morning is less peaceful in a way. Mikasa shoots up in her bed, feeling an onslaught of confusion and mortification when she remembered what happened.

Jean is fast asleep, his face relaxed and somehow younger, with his arm thrown over her lap. That usual subtle guardedness that he shows now completely shed.

The sight makes her heart hammer wildly and a strange warmth spreads in her chest. Before she can dwell on it or on how much she actually liked having him pressed against her, she bolts out of her room.

She doesn’t really know where she is going but she knows she must get out of there. The cold morning air greets her as she runs out of the house, running and running until she stops, gasping for breath and resting her hands on her knees.

Mist is rolling on the gravel road, revealing the scattered houses of the village in all their simpleness. She lets the coldness settle in, obliterating the heat that had overtaken her.

This was completely unexpected, and she knew it made no sense for her to react this way when she had been the one to coax him into her bed. Yet, she also knows there’s only so much sense you can have after nightmares like theirs. It was expected that they would eventually give in to that urgency, that need to cling to each other.

A flock of birds snaps her out of her thoughts, the group flying and dipping by her house before disappearing into the nearby woodland. Soon the whole village would be waking up, and she couldn’t stay here only wearing her nightshift. She wraps her arms around herself - a futile attempt to warm herself against the cold morning air and makes her way back to the house.

The smell of coffee invades her senses when she steps in, and she sees him in the kitchen, already pouring coffee into two cups.

There’s a hint of relief in his face when he notices her, and she swallows down whatever embarrassment she still feels and greets him as usual.

He greets her back, going on to ask her what they should make for breakfast. In that way, their shyness lays forgotten and what happened earlier remains unspoken.

Their routine for the day remains as usual, and the end of their errands sees them relaxing in her backyard like always, lazily talking about nothing and everything.

When night falls, they’re ready to face whatever horrors await them in their sleep again.

This time, Mikasa is in what appears to be a forest, and it doesn’t take long before she notices that Eren is walking ahead of her. She tries to reach him, but he only drifts away further, occasionally looking back at her, green eyes glinting as if he’s playing a game with her.

The further he gets, the more desperate she becomes. She calls his name, but he gets even further away from her. Always far away, always unreachable.

Soon the woodland disappears, and a steep precipice appears ahead, but Eren doesn’t stop walking. She feels as if her feet are shackled while trying to reach him, and she cries out his name brokenly as he plunges down the precipice and disappears.

Instead of screams, she wakes up with cold shivers and a lump in her throat. Her body is pulled taut like a bowstring as she struggles to gain her breath back, trying to blink away her tears. Her only company was the shadows cast upon her room.

But she then remembered that she wasn’t alone, not exactly. In another corner of her house, Jean was slumbering, probably fighting off his nightly terrors as well. It was a never-ending cycle, and yet she can’t pretend to not remember the remedy they had found against their demons: each other.

Mikasa had always put on a hard front to everybody, but she is tired, so very tired; she doesn’t want to hide or even think logically anymore. And so, ignoring all sense she stands up and makes her way to his room, her steps only a whisper against the wooden floor.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw him sitting up in his bed already, though he didn’t seem to have noticed her, looking disconcerted. In the dim light, she can see that he is paler than usual and that his eyes are wide with unshed tears. He seems to finally recognize her as she reaches for him and gently wipes away the moisture that was beginning to spill down his cheeks.

There is an unfathomable look on his face as she soothes him, and when she asks a silent question with her own red-rimmed gaze, he pauses and then moves to open the covers for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to climb in.

***

There was childish laughter coming from the large yard.

It was a comforting sight, watching the children of the orphanage go about their day, playing their little games.

Jean could barely remember the time when he was that carefree and innocent, he pondered as he walked with Armin around the establishment.

“Until wintertime then?” He asked, not knowing how to take the information.

“That’s what I’ve been told. They will pick delegates to go to each of the allied nations. Whoever remains here is still unclear.” Armin said as he walked, looking at Jean’s tired expression and keeping a close watch on Jean’s steps as he balanced himself on a cane. He rarely used it but since he had insisted that he was ready to attend meetings he started bringing it with him, the constant walking and touring taking its toll on his body.

It had been common knowledge that they would need representatives in every nation, but the fact that there was already an established time for him to possibly leave Paradis took him by surprise. There were still months left for winter, and he still hadn’t made up his mind on whether he wanted to stay or leave.

They stopped in a far corner, with Jean leaning against the wooden fence, recalling a distant memory of when he was younger and stood here with his friends. In the distance, they noticed Mikasa walking in the grassy area, inspecting a group of kids who were playing on some swing sets. She noticed both of her friends watching and they waved at each other before she focused back on the children.

“She’s been quite active here,” Armin observed.

“And yet she still feels guilty for some reason,” Jean said, fishing around his pockets until he found what he was looking for.

Armin narrowed his eyes as he watched Jean lighting up a cigarette. His friend noticed him and groaned. “What? I’ve had to deal with Mikasa scolding me already, you’re going to lecture me as well?”

“You’re still recovering from a punctured lung, Jean.”

“I’ve dealt with worse things,” Jean mumbled, exhaling puffs of smoke. He knew his friends were right, but he couldn’t help it.

He sighed and took another drag. “So, tell me about this airshow, will you? What exactly are they planning?”

“I don’t have anything to do with it, but every delegation is expected to attend of course. The Yeagerists have made sure to spend every penny on the ceremony.” Armin said as he also leaned back against the fence.

Jean snorted. “This whole thing feels like a circus, it won’t be long before they go back on their word, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps, but in the meantime, we do what we can, and what we must. Even the Yeagerists know that we have to depend on each other. Right now, we focus on peace.”

Paradis too was struggling to rise back up, with its damaged borders and the destruction of the ecosystems around the world leading to severe droughts, forest fires, and famine. If the rumbling had gone any further, there was no chance they would have survived. Currently, every country was struggling with the reforestation of their lands and developing new technologies to battle the climate crisis. The treaty would be a milestone in that direction.

“Peace is only relative,” Jean remarked.

“Of course, but we must leverage that peace, be it relative or not. I will always condemn what Eren did, but I think he would want us to take advantage of whatever chances we can take.”

“It’s not like he left us much choice,” Jean spat, and then gave a tired sigh. “But whatever is best for us, I will vouch for that and support you along the way.”

“I know you will,” Armin said, bumping Jean’s shoulder and taking in the circles under his eyes. “I don’t want you to strain yourself too much though. If you can’t attend the ceremony, I will excuse you.”

Jean shook his head, exhaling another puff of smoke. “I will be there. I won’t give those assholes the pleasure of not attending.”

Armin hummed in response. “I hear that there are many other events planned beside the ceremony for the treaty. There are rumors that sweet Vera is coming here to perform.”

Jean looked elsewhere. “I heard that as well.”

Vera was a Marleyan singer and actress who quickly rose in fame all over the continent. Her advocate work with the Alliance was well documented, as she used her cultural influence to help gather supporters and fund numerous causes. Just as her charity work was well known, so was her affair with Ambassador Kirschtein.

He had been assigned to escort her to performances and public speeches linked to their cause. One thing led to another, and it was only a matter of time before they ended up tangled between the sheets. The prospect of seeing her made him feel strange but also happy, as despite their casual flings she had also been a good friend.

“Seem like Paradis is ready to deal with the outside world, and not just through treaties,” Armin remarked.

“Oh, they’ll love her for sure, she stole hearts whenever she went,” Jean said while taking another drag.

“Did she steal yours?”

Jean rolled his eyes. “No one stole anything, she and I made our boundaries clear before we started sleeping together. It was the same for all the other women I’ve been with. They took what they wanted, and I took what I wanted.”

“You think you will ever settle down?” Armin asked.

“I don’t know…especially not after…” Jean stopped himself. “Ah, never mind.”

“I’m all ears,” Armin said, looking at him expectantly.

Jean remained quiet for such a long time that Armin thought he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“I’m in love with Mikasa,” Jean finally admitted, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Armin replied, looking at him sympathetically. “Have you tried telling her?”

“What? No, I’ll never tell her,” Jean said, dropping the cigarette and crushing it. “She doesn’t see me that way and I respect that. I’m happy as her friend.”

“You don’t believe that.” Armin had an eyebrow quirked.

“Oh, but I do, the time I’ve spent with her… it has kept me sane in a way,” Jean told him, then shaking his head. “I’m so in love with her it feels ridiculous. I can’t even think about settling down with anyone else even if I know I have no chance with her.”

“Why do you think that? You claim to respect her, but are you really doing that when you don’t even bother to know what she thinks?”

Jean scoffed. “I don’t need to ‘bother’ because I already know what she thinks. Her heart belongs to Eren, that’s a simple fact.”

It was Armin’s turn to scoff. “Eren is dead, Jean. She killed him if I may remind you, and she has always been a full, stronghearted person outside of him. You may love and cherish a memory, but there’s only so much love you can give to a dead man.”

Jean could only look away, staying quiet. Armin followed his tired gaze and found unsurprisingly fixed on Mikasa, who was now spinning a little girl in her arms.

“You may not believe me, but I’ve never seen her this relaxed and happy, not even when we were children.”

“I want her to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“Well, she looks happier than ever to me, and it’s because of you.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Jean rolled his eyes.

“I’m not trying to make you laugh, it’s just the truth. Take it from someone who practically grew up with her.” Armin insisted. “Besides, I don’t think I could make you laugh with that weary expression you’ve had all day. Have you even slept lately?”

“Mikasa kept me up last night,” Jean replied, before realizing what he said.

Armin looked embarrassed. “She…kept you up, huh?”

“Not that way I- for goodness’ sake, Armin! I would never take advantage of her like that!” Jean exclaimed, blushing furiously while Armin smirked.

“Care to explain then?”

“We…ah, we’re sharing a bed, it helps with our nightmares,” Jean explained, avoiding Armin’s curious look. “It’s just sleeping I swear, somehow…somehow it makes it easier.”

Armin nodded in understanding, thinking of the solace he and Annie had found with each other in a similar way, though it was also different since their ritual had quickly taken a much more physical level.

“You don’t have to reassure me of anything, whatever you guys do is none of my business,” Armin said. “And I know you would never take advantage of her.”

Jean said nothing, still looking at Mikasa in the distance.

“But I insist that you must be honest with her.”

“I don’t think so, Armin. Let’s leave it at that.” Jean tried to end the subject.

“I never took you for being such a pessimist. I thought you wanted to be with her since we were Scouts.”

“Even back then I was aware that there was no chance she would ever return my feelings. So, I kept my distance and ignored it. And I-well… I turned to other girls.”

Jean looked embarrassed but Armin nodded in understanding, remembering the times when Jean and Connie would come in late from having explored whatever town they were stationed in and all it had to offer. Their time in Marley had been similar in that regard, with Reiner occasionally taking part in their escapades.

“In that way, I thought I was over her for a long time. It was easy to get distracted by constant missions, carousing, and sex. I should have known my feelings would only come back stronger once I saw her again.” Jean continued, still looking ashamed. “I have accepted that I’m in love with her, but I have also accepted that I’m just her friend, and I’m happy to be that. Being by her side, that is more than enough for me.”

Armin looked at Jean and saw that he truly meant his words. While he felt bad for his friend, he also couldn’t help his frustration at his resignation.

“You make everything sound so hopeless.” The blond complained, leaning further into the fence.

Jean smiled sadly. “I am utterly hopeless when it comes to her,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”

“You don’t have to get over it, you can simply love unapologetically. This world…us and our friends, we have seen too much misery. We owe it to ourselves to try and get some happiness, don’t we?”

“I don’t know if that’s possible… dreams, settling down, having a family, is it all worth it when we don’t know if this so-called peace will even last?”

Armin fixed him with his gaze. “It is worth it every bit,” he affirmed. “I have to believe that because…well, I want to tell you something.”

Jean looked at him curiously as Armin fidgeted with his hands. “I uh…I am planning to propose to Annie.”

A small silence passed between them before Jean’s face broke into pure happiness despite his tiredness.

“That’s-that’s amazing, Armin! I’m proud of you.” Jean said gleefully as he stepped forward to hug his friend tightly and pat his back.

“Hey! I haven’t even asked her yet and we don’t know if she’ll say yes!” Armin laughed, still hugging Jean back.

“Of course, she’ll say yes you idiot,” Jean said. “She looks at you as if the sun shines out of your ass.”

They both laughed before separating, still holding onto each other’s arms. “I don’t know how any of this works, but would you be my best man?”

Jean was already nodding before Armin finished his sentence. “Of course, of course, I’ll do it.”

“Good, because I have no idea what to do after I ask her.”

“And you think I do?” Jean countered, and they both laughed out loud again before continuing their walk, feeling much more at ease than before and enjoying the light breeze. There was still a lot of apprehension clouding Jean’s mind, but for now, he was glad that his friend wanted to take his chance at happiness. A glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty. For now, he could be happy about that.

***

The planes were flying at a safe distance, yet it felt as if they could graze the onlookers in a heartbeat. There was a cacophony of cheers, music, chatter, and roars from the planes that were flying overhead.

It seemed surreal that this was happening. It was almost as if all the hatred and tension that their visit had brought was broken, now replaced by celebration and merriment. The cheers came and went the same way the steel birds flew and dipped across the blue sky.

Jean had stood on the stage at the town square some hours ago, tall and defiant despite the scars he bore underneath his formal clothing and the cane that signified his survival.

His presence had given everyone much to talk about, some in puzzlement and others in admiration. He gave a speech with no problem and made sure to look at every Yeagerist official directly in the eye as they shook hands, silently telling them that this was his home.

Now he stood at the edges of the city that overlooked an extensive lake, watching with the members of the delegation as planes flew in unpredictable ways overhead, a sign of progress and more things to come.

He leaned against the railing, looking at the other delegations on the lower levels. Standing amongst the Hizurian delegation was Mikasa, who was also focused on the aerial spectacle while exchanging words with Kiyomi. Even with her small height the Hizurian diplomat still had an imposing presence whenever she went.

Almost as if Mikasa had felt the weight of his stare, she suddenly turned her head and found his gaze. Normally he would have been flustered but watching the smile that she gave him made him feel calm even in the middle of all the excitement that was happening around them. He smiled back before Kiyomi got her attention again and he turned back to the planes.

The sight of the planes flying and turning across the sky made him feel a small ache as he remembered Hange. He was sure the late commander would have loved this. Her excitement over all things unknown had left a huge gap amongst the former soldiers. Now all they could do was continue their endeavors for peace, just as she would have wanted.

He was hit by a barrage of memories as he watched, also wondering how Levi was faring while also finding reassurance in knowing that he was in good company and getting the rest he deserved. But just as he remembered past recollections, a small hidden memory surged up to the surface of his mind, now clear and prominent.

I liked you Mikasa, you know? I think I even loved you, since we were trainees.

No, it couldn’t be.

I wish he was here, I wish I could bring him back. I’m sorry I can’t do anything, I’m so sorry Mikasa…

The strange behavior Mikasa sometimes showed around him now made sense, and Jean suddenly felt as if he were about to vomit, his face blanching.

He had resolved to be Mikasa’s friend and not make things strange between them. But he had failed with flying colors.

With one last glance at Mikasa- who was still engaged in conversation, he backed away and left the compound, ignoring the questioning stares from his friends.

He walked as fast as he could even in his delicate state, immune to the fanfare around him and feeling absolutely mortified.

Way to go, dumbass.

#jeankasa #snk #attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #hope all the tags work this time

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homesteadchronicles · 4 years

Text

KINGDOM COME: Writing Excerpt (”One Way Onward”)

So, guess what? Ya boi moved out of his parent’s home and into his own apartment this past week! Emotions abounded, which resulted in this. What better way to process change than through your characters, right?

In honor of my move, I wanted to present you all with an excerpt you would not have read otherwise. While this event happens mid-canon, the travel sequence itself is skipped over. As such, you get a glimpse into an overlooked moment in the midst of the story, have a chance to see through the eyes of a non-POV character, and you get to hear my a cappella pipes! I hope you all enjoy.

___

E X C E R P T D E T A I L S

PROJECT: Kingdom Come CHARACTERS: - Nadielle Sincairn: Norian Spymaster, wife of Elyk and mother of Oeden - Oeden Sincairn: Norian bellringer-turned-priest’s apprentice, son of Nadielle - Elyk Sincairn: Norian Knight Commander, husband of Nadielle SETTING: - Inside a carriage on the road to First Haven in Selhearth, the nation’s capital and the neighboring kingdom of their snowy homeland, Norire. CONTEXT: - The Sincairns are on a carriage ride headed for a worldwide festival, the events of which Nadielle believes will tear her son from her forever. The Way of the Sealed God awaits him in First Haven. Recognizing the sign of the times, she wishes for one last moment of comfort with her only child.

___

To the unknowing eye, the carriage escorting Nadielle and Oeden Sincairn from their home in Norire to the Havinic Convention would have become a common sight. Merchants, innkeepers, highwaymen: all manner of folk welcomed the traffic, what with half the world on their way towards their continent’s capital at once. None could resist the call of a festival.

Nadielle, however, had never followed the path of men. She tread the Way of Seals - and none could call its roads kind. By dawn, her son would follow in her bloodied footsteps.

The time to turn back had long since passed.

Nadielle knew: the tie between them loosened more by the minute, each moment lost a reminder of their imminent separation. Destiny had set a noose about her son’s neck and pulled it taut each turn of the moon. The apocalypse would have roped him into its approach eventually, had Oeden not tightened the knot himself.

Why, she mused, must I have made a boy as stubborn as me?

Could she even call him “boy” anymore? All baby fat had faded from his face, once-plump skin fading into haunted hollows. The youthful lilt of his lips had sunken from prejudice she could not protect him from. Even his hair had grown half as much as him!

At least his chin steered clear of stubble. Had that too betrayed her, she could envision the catastrophe to follow: Oeden, eyes arched and arms crossed, standing opposite his father. Elyk, blade raised in determination, would trim every last lock from his son’s throat…only to nick the skin and start a feud. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d fought.

And it won’t be the only sword at his throat, a memory reminded her. How could she forget? Nadielle did not need the Timekeeper’s Seal to know the clock counted down to Oeden’s endangerment. It ticked in time with her heart.

A sword might one day rest at his throat, but until then, it made its home in her soul.

Ignorance, at least, still graced Oeden. For now. Revelation would visit him as soon as their ride arrived. But here, he was just her baby. Just her boy. Just hers.

Hers to hold one last time.

Nadielle reached across the carriage and clung to Oeden’s hand. The unexpected contact caused Oeden to rear back, fearing an unforeseen vision. When no portent of tragedy showed itself, he eased into her touch. “What, did we hit a bump?”

“The only bumps I see,” she said, with a waggle of her fingers, “are under your eyes! You need sleep.” Nadielle patted the space beside her. It was not a request. “Come on - better rest while you can.”

Oeden cocked a brow but did not otherwise protest. He stuffed himself into the cramped confines of their now-shared seating until a pool of flame-kissed hair coalesced about her feet. The bells on his chains rung out as he laid his head in her lap.

How she wished she could silence those bells forever.

“You’re hiding something,” Oeden noted. He need not question her: the Spymaster of Norire preferred to keep clandestine at all times - even from family. Even still, he searched her face for a secret he could not find.

“Can’t a mother want to hold her son?”

“Can’t a son want to hold his mom accountable?” His eyes abandoned their hunt. They sought the ceiling instead. “Neither of us have ever been the touchy type.”

“True,” Nadielle agreed. But only one of us regrets it. She threaded her hands through his hair and imagined each strand was a wisp of fire. If she let it burn the wagon down, would it keep them from the coming maelstrom? “You’ll understand one day, when ‘am’ becomes ‘was’ before you’re ready. Then, you’ll remember this moment, and cling to whatever still is.”

Oeden scoffed. “Well, I ‘was’ at home and now I ‘am’ going to a convention - one you will also be at, might I add. Does the clinginess come on the ride home or…?”

“It will not come at all if you keep flapping that mouth of yours,” she corrected. It will not come at all either way. “Aren’t you supposed to be napping? How can you rest when you keep disrespecting your mother?”

“You know I can’t sleep.”

I know. Nadielle had endured a lifelong nightmare, but nothing compared to the terrors in her child’s mind. And I know why.

“Not without a lullaby, you can’t!” Nadielle countered his snorted retort with a cluck of her tongue. “Don’t doubt your elders - my mother passed this song onto me, before I left home, and now it will guide you on your Way, too.”

That caught Oeden’s attention. “You never talk about Grandma.”

“I never want to,” she admitted. “God willing, I’ll never have to again. But I am willing to make an exception: for your last night with me.”

Whatever discretion Oeden carried surrendered to his curiosity. One longwinded exhale later and his entire form stilled. He awaited his serenade.

When you walk away Will you walk the Way? When you cannot stay Will you go astray?

For the wolves ahead devour sheep And the nightmares hunt you as you sleep Although you I can no longer keep I pray that you walk the Way I pray you won’t walk away

Oeden peeked open an eye. “Is this supposed to soothe me or scare me?”

Nadielle hushed his sarcastic inquiry. The Way would bring him both, she knew, but he need only know the warning for now and await the blessing to be.

When you walk away Will you walk the Way? If you leave my home Where now will you roam?

For I’ve kept you safe here in my arms Far from the world that wished you harm When wanderlust has all but lost its charm I pray that you walk the Way I pray you won’t walk away

Each completed lyric eased the limbs bundled into her lap. Oeden’s breath evened with every beat, even as Nadielle’s hitched in her throat. This song plucked at heartstrings she assumed had long since snapped inside of her. How out of tune she was with her own heart’s cry.

But only the benediction remained. If her son could not hear it, she prayed that God, at least, would heed it.

May Waymaker see and Seal you When you set forth from His throne May you follow in His footsteps Until His Way becomes your own Until His Way becomes your own

I pray that you walk the Way I pray you won’t walk away I pray, I pray the Way

The mournful lament continued until its lyrics ushered Oeden into a still-troubled sleep and its sentiments sent Nadielle into a hushed, heaving grief. The only noise left to soothe them came from the coachman. His whip did not wait for their wailing to relent. It did not anticipate another needed night together. It drove them on, and on, and on. No matter what.

Nadielle would have hated that sound, if its absence did not herald the end of her world.

___

Thank you for reading! This both pained and pleased me to write.

If you would like to listen to a recording of Nadielle’s song, performed by yours truly, please click here! Fair warning: I am not a songwriter, nor is the a cappella track particularly well-mastered. But it’s all for fun, right?

#writing excerpt #original writing #writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #writing community #writers #writer #write #kingdom come #kingdom come excerpt #nadielle sincairn #oeden halflife

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uncloseted · 3 years

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my mom keeps badgering me about the capital event bc i really hated it but i support the blm protests and she says it’s hypocritical of me bc the protests were just as “violent” as the capital and “caused lots of deaths”. i never really have anything to say back to justify what went down, do you have any info i could use to explain myself? i know they were for completely different causes and one actually matters, but i don’t know how to justify the “violence” (i personally don’t think a majority of them were violent, all the ones where i lived were routinely peaceful and i think the extreme ones were sensationalized for the news). anyway sorry if it’s dumb i’m 14 and just trying to get into politics and stuff so i’m not super well informed and just trying to learn.

I’m sorry this has taken me a few days to get to. What happened at the Capitol is complicated, and I want to make sure I give you as full of an answer as possible. I also want to just quickly say that it’s awesome you’re getting involved in politics at such a young age and trying to help your parents understand these issues. I would love to answer any questions you have about politics or social issues (or just kind of anything in general, I’m not picky). Last thing and then I’ll get into the meat of this post- I’m a huge supporter of the BLM and police abolition movements and was a protestor over the summer, so I’m maybe a little bit biased. This situation makes me really angry on a personal level, but I’ll try to stick to just the facts as much as possible in this post and let you know when I’m showing my own opinions.

So the first thing I want to talk about is language. The Black Lives Matter protests were protests- a public expression of objection, disapproval or dissent towards a political idea or action, usually with the intention of influencing government policy. In the US, protesting is a constitutional right protected by the First Amendment. The storming of the Capitol was not a protest, and it wasn’t intended to be. It was planned several weeks in advance with the explicit intention of disrupting the counting of Electoral College ballots. Their stated goal was to overturn Donald Trump’s defeat in the presidential election, an election that is widely considered to be the freest, fairest, and safest election in US history (ironically, in part due to Trump’s insistence that there was voter fraud in the 2016 election). Storming a public building is not a form of protest protected by the US Constitution. Further, an attempt to overturn a democratic election is an attempt to carry out a coup. The Capitol rioters will likely be charged with sedition (conduct that incites rebellion against the established order) and/or insurrection (a violent uprising against an authority or government). The Black Lives Matter protestors were not attempting to carry out a coup against the US government, and none have been charged with offenses as big as those.

Next, I want to touch on motivation. The Black Lives Matter protesters were protesting against police brutality towards minorities, particularly Black people. There has long been a documented history of police misconduct and fatal use of force by law enforcement officers against Black people in the US. Many protests in the past have been a response to police violence, including the 1965 Watts riots, the 1992 Los Angeles riots, and the 2014 and 2015 Black Lives Matter protests in response to the murders of Michael Brown, Eric Garner, and Freddie Gray. By contrast, the Capitol rioters were not motivated by fact. They were called to action by the President of the United States, Donald Trump. They were told that the election had been “stolen” from Trump, and were encouraged to march over to the Capitol to “take back our country”. The idea that the election was stolen from the president is demonstrably false. They weren’t motivated by a social issue, a concern for their own lives, facts, or even really principle. “Our president wants us here...we wait to take orders from our president,” was what motivated them. The affiliations of those rioters are varied, but many of them are affiliated with either the far-right, anti-government Boogaloo Boys, the explicitly neofascist Proud Boys, the self-proclaimed militia The Oath Keepers, or the far-right militia group Three Percenters. Many are also on the record as being QAnon followers (followers of a disproven far-right conspiracy that started off as a 4chan troll, which states that an anonymous government official, “Q”, is providing information about a cabal of Satan-worshiping, cannibalistic pedophiles in the Democratic party who are running a child sex trafficking ring and plotting against Trump. Yes, really).

The intentions of BLM were largely peaceful. BLM protest documents encouraged protesters to be peaceful even in the face of police violence, because the BLM protesters knew what the price of being violent would be. We were encouraged not to bring weapons or anything that could be misconstrued as a weapon. Even non-violent protests were met with tear gas, rubber bullets, and riot gear. A reported 96.3% of 7,305 BLM protests were entirely peaceful (no injuries, no property damage). The 292 “violent incidents” in question were mainly the toppling of statues of “colonial figures, slave owners, and Confederate leaders”. There were also several instances of right wing, paramilitary style militia movements discharging firearms into crowds of protesters, and 136 confirmed incidences of right-wing participation at the protests (including members of the aforementioned Boogaloo Boys, Three Percenters, Oath Keepers, and Proud Boys). It was also rumored that off-duty police were inciting violence (although to my knowledge, that is unconfirmed). There is no evidence that “antifa” (a decentralized, left-wing, anti-racist and anti-fascist group) played a role in instigating the protests or violence, or even that they had a significant role in the protests at all. People who were involved in crimes were not ideologically organized, and were largely opportunists taking advantage of the chaos for personal gain.

By contrast, the “Storm the Capitol” documents were largely violent; messages like, “pack a crowbar,” and “does anyone know if the windows on the second floor are reinforced” were common on far-right social media platforms. One message on 8kun (formerly 8chan, a website linked to white supremacy, neo-Nazism, the alt-right, etc) stated, "you can go to Washington on Jan 6 and help storm the Capitol....As many Patriots as can be. We will storm the government buildings, kill cops, kill security guards, kill federal employees and agents, and demand a recount." The speakers at the Trump rally encouraged attendees to see themselves as foot soldiers fighting to save the country, and to be ready to “bleed for freedom”. The Capitol rioters were mostly armed; rioters were reportedly seen firing pepper spray at police officers, and pipe bombs, molotov cocktails, and guns (including illegal assault rifles) were found on the protesters. One protester was filmed saying, “believe me, we are well armed if we need to be.” Some protesters arrived in paramilitary regalia, including camo and Kevlar vests.

I quickly want to touch on scale. The George Floyd BLM protests are thought to be the largest protests in US history, with between 15 and 26 million (largely young, sometimes children, minority) people attending a protest in over 2000 cities in 60 countries. There were around 14,000 arrests, most being low-level offenses such as violating curfews or blocking roadways. 19 deaths have been reported, largely at the hands of police. Only one death is known to have been a law enforcement officer. The number of people who stormed the Capitol is still somewhat unclear, but it seems to be between 2,000 and 8,000 (largely older white, cis, straight, Christian men) people. 80+ people have been arrested for federal crimes, including 25+ who are being charged with domestic terrorism (something nobody associated with BLM is being accused of). There have been five deaths reported. One was a police officer, and the other four were rioters. Of those deaths, one was a police related shooting (a female Air Force veteran). The other three died of unrelated medical emergencies. One reportedly had a history of high blood pressure and suffered a heart attack from the excitement.

Now I want to look at government response. During the BLM protests, there was a huge response from law enforcement. 200 cities imposed curfews, 30 states and Washington DC activated over 96,000 National Guard, State Guard, 82nd Airborne, and 3rd Infantry Regiment service members. The deployment was the largest military operation other than war in US history, and it was in response to protests concerning, in part, the militarization of police forces. The police were outfitted in riot gear. They used physical force against BLM protesters, including batons, tear gas, pepper spray, and rubber bullets, “often without warning or seemingly unprovoked,” per the New York Times. Anecdotally, everyone I know now knows how to neutralize pepper spray, treat rubber bullet wounds, build shields out of household items, how to prevent cellphones from being tracked, and how to confuse facial recognition technology to prevent being identified (as six men connected to the Ferguson protests mysteriously turned up dead afterwards, and the police were using cellphone tracking technology). Amnesty International issued a press release calling for police to end excessive militarized response to the protests. There were 66 incidents of vehicles being driven into crowds of protesters, 7 of which explicitly involved police officers, the rest of which were by far-right groups. Over 20 people were partially blinded after being struck with police projectiles. When the BLM protests were happening, Trump said that, “when the looting starts, the shooting starts.”

In contrast, the response to the Capitol protesters was relatively tame, especially given that the US Capitol’s last breach was over 200 years ago (when British troops set fire to the building during the war of 1812) and the rioters weren’t being shy about their aspirations to conduct an armed insurrection incited by the sitting president. There was (widely available, able to be found through a Google search, everyone saw it) prior intelligence that far-right, extremist groups were planning on (violently) Storming the Capitol on January 6th, with the intention of interrupting the Electoral College ballot counting and holding lawmakers hostage. However, the US Capitol Police insisted that a National Guard presence would not be necessary for the protests, and Pentagon officials reportedly restricted DC guard troop from being deployed except as a measure of last resort, and restricted them from receiving ammunition or riot gear. They were instructed to engage with rioters only in self-defense, and were banned from using surveillance equipment. Despite prior knowledge of the “protests”, Capitol Police staffing levels mirrored that of a normal day, and no riot control equipment was prepared. The Capitol Police weren’t in paramilitary gear the way they were for the BLM protests. The mob walked in to the Capitol with little resistance. Some scaled walls, some broke down barricades, some smashed windows, and one video even seems to show Capitol Police opening a gate for the mob. Rioters traipsed around the Capitol (one of the most important government buildings in the country) with little resistance, looting and vandalizing offices of Congress members. Some rioters felt safe enough to give their names to media outlets, livestream their exploits, and take selfies with police officers. One man was (ironically) carrying a Confederate flag, a symbol of a secession attempt on the part of the South (and of racism). It took 50 minutes for FBI tactical teams to arrive at the scene, and the National Guard were initially directed by Trump not to intervene. Pence later overturned that ruling and approved the National Guard. Police used finally used riot gear, shields, smoke grenades, and batons to retake control of the Capitol, but notably no tear gas or rubber bullets. Video showed rioters being escorted away without handcuffs. Trump’s response to the riot was, "we love you. You're very special ... but you have to go home."

This is where I’m going to get a little editorial, but I think it’s important to say. If the people storming the Capitol Building were Black, they would have been met with a large, pre-coordinated military presence, violent restraint, arrests, and quite possibly would have been shot. They wouldn’t have made it inside the Capitol, much less been given free rein to wander around without immediate consequence. Hundreds of people during the George Floyd protests were arrested for just being present- 127 protesters were arrested for violating curfew on June 2nd in Detroit alone, twice the number of arrests made during the storming of the US Capitol. It turns out that the police do know how to use restraint, after all. What an absolute shock. It’s almost like they’re a corrupt and racist institution we should get rid off...

The last big thing I want to talk about is the outcome. The BLM protests were meaningful, but the outcome from them has been tame. Nobody has been accused of domestic terrorism. State and local governments evaluated their police department policies and made some changes, like banning chokeholds, partially defunding some departments, and passing regulations that departments must recruit in part from the communities they patrol. Only one city, Minneapolis, pledged to dismantle their police force. The response has largely been localized. I think the biggest impact it’s had is introducing people to the concept of police abolition and getting more people involved in the movement. By contrast, the Capitol riots have resulted in over 25 people being accused of domestic terrorism and the second attempt to impeach Donald Trump, something that has never happened before in the history of the US.

But what really concerns me is the precedent this sets. Donald Trump is an idiot, and he’s gotten this far. We can’t count on the guy who takes his place to be an idiot, too. The next guy could be clever, strategic, well-spoken, well-mannered... not to invoke Godwin’s law here, but people liked Hitler. He was a persuasive speaker and capitalized on conspiracy theories about World War 1 to gain support. His 1923 attempt to overthrow the Bavarian government failed, but sympathy for his aims grew. He painted himself as a good, moral man who loved dogs and children and was trying to do right by his country (by, among other things, arresting communists and leftists, and then eventually all minorities). Trump isn’t Hitler. He’s not even a Hitler analogue. But Trump has already done this much damage to the fabric of our society. He’s worn down our relationship with the media, with one another, with democracy, with morality, and with truth itself. We have to be prepared for the idea that the next guy might be a much better politician. Getting rid of Trump isn’t the end; it’s the beginning of a fight against fascism that’s only going to grow from here.

There are other differences you could point to. BLM protesters wore masks to prevent the spread of COVID (and indeed, researchers have reported that the protests did not drive an increase in virus transmission), for example, while the rioters were largely unmasked. But I think the bottom line is that the millions of BLM protesters were doing their best to be responsible citizens fighting peacefully for an evidence-based, human rights cause, even though they knew that as a primarily minority group of people, they would be met with violence. The thousands of far-right, white, Capitol insurrectionists were doing their best to overturn a free, fair, safe, and democratic election because of a call to action by Trump and a stringent belief in disproven conspiracy theories, which they knew would be met with minimal resistance despite the severity of their actions. The insurrectionists are fascists, full stop, and we should call them what they are. The BLM protesters were by and large just people, of all different political views and motivations, who wanted to fight against something they saw as unjust.

I’m sorry that this is such a long post. This topic has been on my mind all week, and I wanted to give it the nuance it deserves. All we can do from here is to keep fighting- for justice, for truth, and, hopefully, for peace.

#Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #360

“we are the ones that wanna play / always wanna go, but you never wanna stay”

"Crawling" or "In The End?" I want to say "Crawling," but I really can't be sure. Both are bomb. Is your window open? No. Monsters Inc. or Shrek? Shrek, my man. What did you last hear that made your jaw drop? Jason's mom died. What is the longest shower or bath you have ever taken? I remember as kids, Nicole and I would sometimes play 'til Mom made us finish because the water was cold by then. As an adult, idk about my longest shower. Do you have a preference of chocolate? Yeah, milk chocolate. Is there anyone you’d like to hug right now? Yeah. Could you ever picture someone writing a biography about you? Definitely not. Do you have a clock in your room? No. Do you shut off the computer when you’re done using it? No, I just close it. Do you usually catch a cold during the winter? No. I just about never get sick. Are you a good multi-tasker? NOOOOOOOOOOO. Do you know any deaf people? If so, is it easy or difficult to have conversations with them? No. Is there a door knocker on your front door? No. Were you ever into Pokémon? Bitch I still am. Do you drink a lot of water? Sigh, no. I'm definitely better than I used to be, though; once upon a time, I literally never drank it unless I was extremely hot and dehydrated. Nowadays, it's usually after I finish my soda for the day that I then only drink water, normally around one full tall cup of it. Do you like fireworks? They're beautiful, but I'm personally against them out of respect for veterans suffering from PTSD as well as animals, because I'm not exactly interested in traumatizing them, either. Is respect given or earned with you? It's given, the way I think it should be. Are you “in the closet” about anything? No. Are you missing any teeth? No. Do you like scrapbooking? I've never gotten into it and am not really interested in doing so. What was or will be your first tattoo? It's a semicolon butterfly on my right wrist. Sometimes I've thought about getting it covered with a cooler design but the same concept; it was literally from Google, and I'm very much not into "sharing" tattoo designs with probably thousands of other people. But, I still think it really is cute, and it's just very special to me as my first, so idk. Do you have any tattoos dedicated to someone special? I have one written in Sara's handwriting inside a heart, and my "ohana" tattoo that I am 100% getting covered was dedicated to my former best friend Colleen. I've talked before about why "ohana" has never really resonated with me, and I just don't like it anymore at all. Thank God it's small. Do you like ghost stories? Oh HELL yeah, lay 'em on me. What was your favorite movie as a kid? The Lion King. Some things never change, ha. Do you own a lot of cookbooks? Mom has looooots, but never uses any. I think her mom gave them to her, so she just keeps 'em. What’s your father’s handwriting like? It looks like every other man's handwriting I've ever seen lol. All the letters are capitalized. Did you wash your hair last time you showered? I wash my hair every time I shower. I have to with it naturally being so oily. What does your shampoo smell like? Coconut. Do you listen to Guns N' Roses? Not a lot, but yeah. They've got some bangers. I actually want "Sweet Child O' Mine" to be the father/daughter dance at my wedding. Have you ever been a bridesmaid? Yeah, at my sister's wedding. What was the last video game that you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 a long time ago. Have you ever hyperventilated? Yep. Do you talk in your sleep? I scream in my sleep. Nightmares/terrors are a blast. Whose house did you last sleep over? Sara's. Have you ever been cut by scissors? No. Do you like peaches? It's odd, I like canned sliced peaches, but the actual, full fruit, I don't. I love peach flavored juice, though. Do you enjoy being surrounded by neighbors, or would you be more comfortable someplace secluded? Take me back to the middle of nowhere, please. I'm really not digging being in an actual neighborhood. Is there any sibling rivalry between you and your siblings, if you have any? Not at all. Do you usually root for the good guys or the bad guys? Ha, the baddies... Are you allowed to have pets at your house? We're allowed to have what we currently own and then maybe one dog if Mom finally finds one. Have you ever lived in a trailer park? No. Is there anyone that you know through the internet that you would feel comfortable meeting in person? There's quite a few, actually! Have you ever had a dream involving characters from a game/movie/television show? Yeah. What’s the last thing you wrote down? My signature, I think? Do you remember any phone numbers from years ago that now belong to someone you don’t know? No. Have you ever found something strange in your mailbox? No. Who was the last relative that came to visit you? My half-sister and her husband. Does your bedding all match? Not currently. Are you more comfortable with having short hair or long hair? SHORT. Are you interested in fantasy movies/shows? That's my preference. Have you ever gone whale-watching? No, but that'd be dope. What is something that you have a large amount of? Meerkat plushies. Who is it that you’re in love with? Nobody. Have you ever gotten love and infatuation confused? No. Do you have a steady income? No. Do you take your medications in the morning or at night? Both. Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? No, I wish. :( Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? MILK. I don't eat it with water. When was the last time you ran into someone that you didn’t want to see? Idk. Have you ever tried vlogging, and if yes, did you stick with it? Noooo, I'm completely disinterested in doing that myself. If you go to church, what is your favorite thing about it? I don't go. Even as a kid when Mom made me, I hated it. ^and what is your least favorite thing about it? N/A What do you do for exercise? I don't. .-. I want a pool SO badly to swim and strengthen my legs without having to worry about sweating or collapsing, though. Mom says we don't have space, but we definitely do. Not a lot, but enough. Do you have a birthmark? If yes, what color is it? Yeah, it's just a bit darker than the rest of my skin. Do you need to lose weight? Yes. My sister, Mom, and I very recently started a Weight Watchers subscription and we're all working our asses off to stick to it. Ash has already lost like, 12 pounds (she started before Mom and me), so I'm kinda hopeful. Have you ever had a cat? Growing up, after we took in a stray female, we ended up with a fucking empire of cats, literally around three dozen, I'd say. They were all outdoors, too, and not fixed because we couldn't afford it, so tomcats would come around and, y'know, make matters worse. Eventually, animal control took them all and I was DEVASTATED, but looking back, I understand it was necessary. Anyway, I have one cat now. Indoors and fixed and the prince of my world, haha. Have you ever had a dog? We've had a few. I was born with my dad having a collie named Trigger, but I don't remember her at all; she died of old age I believe when I was very young. Then we briefly had a pup named Angel, but she died due to that disease some puppies just have. We didn't get another dog until Teddy, who was my Christmas present, and he was put to sleep only last year, rest my baby's soul. We also had Dale, Cali, Delilah, and Bentley. Have you ever any other kind of animal? A LOT. I'm probably going to forget some, but we've had hamsters, rats, snakes, fish, a turtle, two lizards, gerbils, guinea pigs... just a lot. Animals have always been very important in my life. Have you ever had a pet rock? HA, yeah. I didn't take it seriously at all, but I had one. When was the last time you painted something? Not since my Painting course in my final college attempt. Do you have any disabilities? Not in the traditional sense, no. My social anxiety though is at such a severity that it majorly infringes upon my ability to do a LOT of things, though. What are five of your favorite stores at the mall? I couldn't name five. Just Hot Topic and Spencer's, really. What season do you want to get married in? AUTUMN. The actual dream situation would be to get married in the snow in a black dress, like can you IMAGINE the pictures, but realistically, it'd be in the fall to avoid the biting cold. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yeah. Anything special planned for today? Nope. Blue or green? Blue. How much older/younger than you was the person you lost your virginity to? He's two years older than me. Do you still care for that person? Very much. Can you completely annihilate the first Mario game in less than an hour? I haven't even played the first game. I've never really been into the games to begin with. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes! I was OOOOOBSESSEEEEEED as a kid. I would usually play it after school when my mom was an assistant teacher and was finishing up her work for the day. Have you ever contemplated climbing a water tower? Uh, no. Those kind of people got some wanderlust levels that I ain't got, haha. If you have a Facebook, when was the last time you changed your profile picture? It's been a few months. Would you ever marry someone who was lower class? Um, yes? You can deny it all you want, but answering "no" is pretty much the same as saying you'd marry for money. Is there a guy you wish you hadn’t let slip away? ugh Which do you prefer: English or math? English, by light years. Who is a singer that has given you chills? David Draiman's voice in the Disturbed cover of "Sound of Silence" is fucking haunting. Greatest cover of all time. Do you watch America’s Got Talent? I did when Sharon was a judge. Do you think you could win America’s Got Talent? Hell no. What act would you perform in a talent show? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Have you ever practiced yoga? Yes. I used to be BANGIN at it. What is your favorite thing to buy at the Farmer’s Market? Fruit! Do you get carsickness? No. What color is the rim of your full-length mirror? Black. What is your state’s bird (if you live in the US)? Cardinal. Which style of wedding dress is your favorite? I'm a sucker for ballgown dresses. Do you enjoy editing videos? I used to love it, for many many years. Now, I just don't have the dedication or motivation to. Do you enjoy editing photos? Yes. If you gave birth, do you think you would want it filmed? Um, absolutely not. I would have NO desire to look back on me shrieking my lungs out and essentially dying. I handle abdominal pain very poorly, so I've got a goooood feeling that if I actually wanted to have kids, I'd be that woman screeching like a banshee.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''aerials'' by system of a down

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nachohypno · 4 years

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Nate and Dave Ch. 9

Nate’s POV

After Dave’s practice was over, I decided to go to his house with him. He still seemed mildly pissed, so I thought of taking the initiative and spending some extra time with him today.

According to him, the coach yelled at Lucas and Butch for starting a fight, then at Dave for fighting back, chatted with them about being good teammates and having each other’s backs.

Funny enough, he said he preferred to have an endurance practice as a punishment for the whole team, for not having separated the guys before the blood started to spill out.

The rest of the team got punished as a lesson for everyone. “If this happen again, your body will fall apart after the hell of endurance training I’m gonna give ya” Dave repeated the coach’s words, in a mocking tone. “It’s just… so unfair, bro! I’ve got punished because some assholes randomly tried to pick on me because… Uhm…”

I looked at him, expectantly. “You really just got it, right?” Big alpha Dave just got a taste of his own medicine, apparently.

Not saying I condone violence nor that I approve Butch and Lucas’ behavior. I would never wish for something like that happening to anyone I know, but I’m kind of glad Dave got to know how it feels?

The… unfairness, when you get attacked at school (A place where you are supposed to be safe) and everyone acts like you’re the problem, while encouraging the big jerks who actively want to make your life a hell just because they can. There’s something karmic to it, and I love it.

He looked at me, still frowning, but his expression seemed to relax after a few seconds. “Sorry, don’t know how you managed to put up with that for… How long have you been putting up with that? Just remembered we don’t really know each other for that long”

I looked up and tried to concentrate, to recall when did the harassment begun. After a few moments, I gave up. “It was probably always there, because I can’t really remember. Probably middle school? It did increase when I came out of the closet, so there’s that too”

“Aw, bro…” Dave said, sitting down beside me on the bed. “If maybe I had met you before, I could have protected you from all those assholes”

‘It doesn’t really help since you were one of those assholes when you arrived, but I’m sort of glad you never bothered to try and beat me up. That’s a difference, I guess’ I thought, remaining silent to avoid hurting his feelings.

The big jock was wearing a green tank top, which seems a little underdressed due to the current weather we’re having lately. Winter seems to be coming early this year.

“It’s okay. I’m still alive, huh?” I said, trying to sound funny for him to lose that frown. I’m not going to blame it all on him, mostly because he hasn’t done anything against me in the past, and because he was trying to change for the better now. And I’m NOT throwing away his progress because I want to rant.

He gave me a little smile, with caring eyes full of love. “And I’m really happy for that, babe” Then Dave leaned in and started kissing me. I kissed back, of course, before he pulled me with him to lay down on his bed. The heat from my body was pretty nice, and I could totally spend the rest of the night like this.

Kissing together, cuddling, maybe ask him to transform into his werewolf form. But now, this was all I needed.

As we took a little break from the kiss, I had an idea. I moved my hand to the side of his torso and started scratching there. Suddenly, Dave’s leg raised and started kicking the air as the werewolf stud closed his eyes, tongue lolling out as usual when he acted like a happy dog.

“Feeling better now?” I said, as I stopped scratching. That was one of my favorite things about him, the acting like a nice and happy puppy when I treated him like one. I wondered if he could catch a Frisbee with his mouth.

Dave nodded blissfully as he returned to his senses. “You’re the best, bro. Always looking out for me…” He leaned in again to kiss me, but this time, he moved to be on top of me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him as we continued to make out together.

I did notice he started to rub his cock against my ass, with our pants in between. It did feel good, so I didn’t stop him.

I broke the kiss and looked at him, who stopped to see what happened.

“So… Dave…” I started, trying to find the words. The truth is, I felt pretty horny myself. And I knew he was horny too, due to his big cock being noticeable in his shorts. The werewolf expectantly waited for me to continue. “If I were to… you know, ask you to fuck me… would you agree?”

I internally face palmed. I mean, I have complete control over him, of course he would agree! I’m just delaying the inevitable because I’m afraid of getting fucked! What if it hurts? What if Dave doesn’t like it? What if I don’t like it?! Dave is not even gay, but he happens to be in love with me!

All my insecurities started to ramp up and aggressively knock on the door that was my sanity, making me feel more anxious as soon as I finished speaking those simple words.

Dave knew I was a virgin, so he looked at me with caring eyes again. “I ain’t gonna force you, bro. If you ain’t ready, then it’s fine by me. You’re the priority here, babe” I could tell he really meant that, but that he would gladly fuck the brain out of me if I said I’m ready.

But, I shook my head. “No, I want you to do it, puppy boy. I mean it”

His smile grew bigger, like a little kid when you tell them that you’ll buy them a new console for Christmas and actually make it happen. “I-I’ll do the best I can to make sure you really enjoy it, bro! Your first time HAS to be perfect!”

I nodded, smiling too. His enthusiasm seemed to be contagious, and then he moved to take his tank top off. I did the same, taking off my shirt and mimicking him as he also took off his pants.

And then, Dave’s dad knocked the door. We were sort of alone in the house, with Dave’s mom working again until later tonight, and his dad being out for the evening. Until now, apparently.

I wondered if Dave heard him coming or if he was too distracted to notice. “Hey guys, I know you’re in there. Just wanted to know if Nate is going to stay for dinner so I know how much food should I prepare”

I blushed, wondering if Dave’s dad heard all we were talking about. And in the meantime, Dave seemed pretty pissed again. I noticed he even started to growl, like the first time I came here. Apparently, his dad isn’t of his liking when I’m around, even when Mr. Walker told me he was alright with me being around his son.

“I can stay if you want, P— Dave” I held myself back and decided to not call him puppy boy when his father might be on the other side of the door.

Dave stopped growling at the door to look at me. He nodded, with a little smile before going back to hating on the door. “Yeah, he’ll stay. Mind leaving us alone now?”

“Sure, Imma about to leave again so you can both go back to your kissing and—”

“YEAH, WE GET IT POPS. YOU CAN FUCKING LEAVE NOW” Dave shouted at the door, and surprisingly his father just laughed before walking away.

We waited expectantly until we heard the front door opening and closing, then Dave went over to one of the windows to make sure he was gone.

The jock turned to me, trying to give me a comforting smile but I could tell he was still pretty mad about everything, and his father didn’t help at all.

“I dunno if that ruined the mood for you but…” I noticed his cock wasn’t hard anymore, which was a surprise. He’s always hard around me, but maybe this was too much for him to handle. “Y-You can still order me to get hard if you want. I want to make you feel good, bro”

Looking at it, I didn’t consider how many changes he’s been going through lately. First, dropping his girlfriend out of nowhere after he discovered I’m his soulmate. Saved me from his teammates, apologized to one of the nerds he used to torment. And now he’s getting distanced from his ‘bros’ because they don’t like him being with me.

I also noticed he’s been trying to get better at studying, and even showed me how he “summarized” (Although he just copied word by word what the professor was talking about in an almost perfect way) a whole class. He’s really trying his best, while also focusing a good chunk of his time after school on practicing football.

I liked that, and I haven’t ordered him to do that for me so I liked to think that Dave was actually looking forward to changing his bad behavior for a nicer one.

Not terrorizing the nerds didn’t seem to take a big impact on him, in fact the rest of the football players seemed to calm down after he did. He’s the one setting the example!

Except for… Butch and Lucas, who weren’t “buying any of his shit”. I could easily tell Dave to hospitalize them because of all the damage they’ve done so far, not only to me but to the other students as well.

But that would be bad, and I’m not a vengeful person, and using Dave as a weapon was Wrong with a capital W.

He’s a real guy with emotions and thoughts of his own, but he finds himself unable to disobey anything I say due to his werewolf nature. I still don’t know how soulmates are sorted and if that has anything to do with our souls being similar in some aspect or by the smell I have.

I shower almost daily so I wasn’t sure of how he could smell me and discover I’m his soulmate. So I gave the credit for that to his supernatural abilities as well.

“Hey, come here” I commanded him, and he obeyed. He was still on his boxers, since we didn’t get to the ‘get fully naked’ part. His pecs bounced pretty nicely as he walked over towards me like the good puppy boy he was.

Dave kneeled in front of me, and placed his head on my lap, like a dog craving for his master’s attention.

“Nnn… nnn… nnn…” Awww, he was making those sounds that dogs make when they’re sad. “It’s been an awful day, bro… Thanks for being here with me…” He looked up at me, and his eyes seemed teary. I’ve never seen him like this, his face seemed mildly beaten up even though his injuries seemed to have already healed “I love you…”

I… I was shocked. Not because of the ‘I love you’ because he said it before, a lot. But because I’ve never seen him show ‘weaknesses at all. He always seemed so… big macho alpha.

I placed my hand on his cheek and softly caressed him. “I-I love y-you too, Dave” I whispered, and he gave me a little smile.

Then he jumped at me, making me fall back to the bed. The werewolf was on top of me now, looking excited. “Y-You said it! You said you love me!” Huh, it was weird hearing him stutter.

I looked away, feeling my cheeks burning. “Hey, I couldn’t just sit there and watch you cry—“

“Who’s cryin’? Not me, bro. Crying’s for pussies! Alphas don’t cry, bro!” He stated, with proudness returning to his voice. Huh, he seemed way more energetic than just a few moments ago. His behavior did one of those 180° turns again, and the sadness completely disappeared.

I chuckled “You’re a good alpha puppy, don’t you?”

Honestly, I was relieved to see him happy again. He seemed on the verge of crying, and I kind of had an idea why. I don’t want to see him crying, so I should… let go of the ‘leash’ a little bit and have him act like he normally would? Maybe rough changes like the last few ones are upsetting him?

He may be trying too hard to please me like a good soulmate, and I’d hate myself if he’s hurting himself by doing that.

“I am, bro!” He rolled on the bed and sat beside me, as I moved to look up at him. The jock flexed both of his arms, putting on a show for me, before saying “I’M A FUCKING ALPHA PUPPY!”

Alright, that sounded ridiculous, but it was closer to his normal self. Maybe that would help him a little, not trying to change so drastically for me but remain as his usual self while getting on the habits of studying and not bullying.

I moved myself to place my head on the big pillow, and motioned Dave to lay down with me. “I know we were about to… do the lewd,” He chuckled like a little child “But I think I’d prefer to just cuddle together like we always do?”

“Anything you’d like, my love. Should I turn into a werewolf so you can rest on my fur?” Hah, this guy is truly amazing. I shook my head though, I preferred having him in human form just in case we wanted to kiss.

I hugged him, while wrapping my legs around him. He just waited there, smiling blissfully as he stared at me with his nice blue eyes.

A big muscled guy with handsome face, blue eyes, and an alpha werewolf too. How lucky I am to be his soulmate?

…Huh, I’m really falling for him. But it’s okay, it’s not like I don’t love him or anything.

----

Dave’s dad returned after like an hour, and I suspected he wanted to give us time to finish with losing my virginity.

…That didn’t happen, of course, so we tried to avoid the subject while we ate our chicken breasts with smashed potatoes and broccoli. ‘These guys surely love being healthy’ I thought to myself as I silently enjoyed my meal.

Mr. Walker and Dave both ate like they barely chewed their food at all, but I sort of got used to that after a few meals with Dave. The jock still seemed really happy, and would throw me some nice smiles each time I looked at him.

Dave’s dad just looked at us, taking turns to look at each one of us before his gaze went around the room. “So,” He started, after the silence apparently bored him. “Football game coming up. Do you like football?”

I tried to think of a good answer for him. But I remembered he was not one of the jocks at school, I could answer with the truth on this one. “Not really a fan. I mean, I know the basics but never sat down to watch a full game before”

Dave finished with his current piece of chicken before joining the convo. “Can’t wait for the next game. Will you cheer for me, bro?” He asked, before getting a bit of smashed potatoes on his mouth.

I nervously nodded, as the big guy’s eyes filled with happiness. Guess now I have a football game to attend, although I had to attend anyway because Dave already lied to his teammates about me being there.

Mr. Walker looked at us once again and chuckled silently. Dave looked at him and asked “What, anything to say, pops?” It did annoy me a little how he treated his father in a mean way when I’m around. I think it was because he thinks he has to protect me but Mr. Walker already left very clear that he’s rooting for us.

He held his hands up, saying “Nope, nothing to see here, kiddo” before smiling at us.

Dave did a ‘Mmhmm’ sound, with suspicious eyes. I patted his back, whispering “It’s okay, big guy. You can chill out” and his face turned to that numb blissfulness he always sported when I ‘ordered’ something to him.

Adam raised an eyebrow to that, before shrugging it off. “Soulmates, amiright?” He said to me, before throwing his son a mocking look.

Huh, being around the Walker family was going to be more fun than expected.

----

Next morning, I woke up before Dave did. He snored a lot, but I was deep sleeper so I barely noticed him.

I did wake him up a while after I did though, because we would be late to school. I wanted to stay a little longer with him on the bed, but he’s been trying so hard to be a better student that I’m not going to hold him back by being the irresponsible one now.

Breakfast was alright, Dave’s mom was asleep due to the extra hours at work she did last night, apparently. So, Mr. Walker took care of making us quick scrambled eggs with bacon before almost kicking us out of the house to avoid being late. “THAT WOMAN IS GOING TO KILL ME, CMON GUYS. EAT, EAT, EAAAAAAT!” and I really surprised with the amount of food Dave was able to eat.

I usually took my time, but the peer pressure by Dave’s dad made me finish ASAP, before we went upstairs to grab our bags and practically ran towards Dave’s car.

The driving to school was pretty normal today. At each chance Dave had to stop due to a traffic light, he would take the chance to pull me in for a good kiss until the light turned back to green. It was a really nice detail by the werewolf jock.

When we arrived at school, he decided to not stay in the car this time, and got out at the same time I did. I had a feeling he didn’t care anymore about being seen together, and that was great by me.

We did get separated as soon as we stepped into the school, though. I went towards Sam and Dave got grabbed by one of his teammates and dragged away to their usual spot. I had to talk with Sam anyway so… pretty cool day so far, huh?

“Hey Nate” Sam greeted me, holding out his hand to slap mine. “Got the notebook?”

“Uh… Yeah, I think so” We had a meeting last day, since he’s the student council’s president. Dick is his vice president and I’m the… the guy who just appears to help, because his secretary was busy with robotics at the moment and would refuse to leave the class.

I reached out to my bag and grabbed a green notebook full of receipts and other documents. If Sam or anyone in the council used any of the money they had saved up for a project, they needed to have the receipts and a little sheet explaining what was the money used for.

I made my best to ensure that nothing fell out the messy notebook, then passed it to Sam. “I haven’t been able to do the maths, but I think you have enough money for the basic decorations already. If anything, a couple of events could do the trick to get more fancy stuff”

“What held you hostage last night? Did you try to kill a Zorah magdaros without armor again or are you back at trying to platinum RE2?” He asked, grabbing the notebook and carefully placing it in his locker.

“Uh… You wouldn’t believe it” I said, trying to sound kind of dismissive to change the topic. “But hey, the meeting wasn’t as bad as I expected. I could stick around a few more times if you need help”

Being in the student’s council wasn’t part of my plans, because I have my own extracurricular activities to attend to. But it’s always nice to do a favor to your best friend, right?

Besides, Dick and Hannah seemed to get along really well during that meeting, so I’ll assume the baseball player must be on the clouds today, huh?

I turned around and noticed Dave speaking with his Leslie, with a fellow teammate near him. I think the group got sort of separated after yesterday’s fight, with a few players around Butch and a few players on Dave’s side. Speaking of Dave, he looked in my direction and smiled, before waving his hand.

I waved back, and Sam tapped my back. “Oh yes Dave, look at me with those deep blue eyes and take me to heaven!” He said, in a mocking voice. It’s pretty obvious by now that he’s fully aware of what’s going on, and that was annoying.

All the effort that went into being secretive had been wasted, but I was also glad about it.

I could walk up to Dave and talk to him on the corridor like we’re normal friends now, right?

The bell rang, and our first class was going to start. I gave Sam a “Dude, cut it off. You’re not funny” as he laughed. Then we set on our way to the classroom.

I sat down my usual spot, and when Sam seemed about to sit down with me, he got interrupted by a pair of big hands grabbing him by the shoulders.

“Yo, Sammy!” Dave said. “You’re sittin’ with me today, got it?” His commanding behavior seemed to be back. Honestly, it was hot, but I wondered what he had in mind for Sam. And I should also tell him to stop calling him ‘Sammy’.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Sam frowned, he really didn’t like being called Sammy.

The big jock answered “You’ve got that damn right, Samson!” still with a big and seemingly friendly smile.

My best friend sighed. “If we’re going to be partners, you will address me correctly. I’m Sam, Dave. Not Sammy, nor Samson, and don’t even try with Sampster”

Sam continued with his list of banned nicknames as Dave rolled his eyes, gave me a wink and dragged my best friend away. Alright, and my partner of the day is…

“Hey Nate” L-Leslie said, sitting down next to me and giving me a really nice smile.

W-Woah, that surprised me so much that even my narration is stuttering now.

Leslie Wilson is one of the hottest (Not for me, because of the gay thing, but I still can tell why guys love her) girls around. And if you judge her by her appearance, you may find that she looks a bit nerdy, like me.

That’s only a façade for when he’s at school, because the cheerleader uniform and losing her glasses reveals her true siren-ish appearance. And she seems to be a great party girl too, from what I’ve heard.

The girl is the equivalent of a goddess, basically. And also she��s Dave’s ex, because the big guy is also the equivalent of an Olympian.

“H-Hey” I was about to ask her how did she knew my name, and then it struck down to me. Dave and her might have been talking and this is part of his plan of going out. I’ll make sure to order the werewolf to tell me before he does this again. I assume he forgot to tell me or something, because I think we had this talk before.

“How’s it going, stutter guy?” I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t trying to think of an answer to seem cool or anything, but my mind was blank at that moment, probably from the shock. And she was making fun of my stutter, awesome.

I looked around and saw Dave and Sam engaged in a chat together, and the jock seemed really happy.

“Uhm… pretty good?” I wanted to hit my head with the table. She’s being nice! Dave probably asked her to sit with my today! Why am I so nervous?!

Luckily, Leslie just chuckled at me before going “Wow, Dave wasn’t lying when he said you’re always nervous” Oh, good to know she doesn’t think I’m a weirdo. Or maybe she does and I’m just embarrassing myself further. “He talked greatly about you, so don’t worry. I think you’re cool”

‘You don’t even know me, gurl’ “How so?” I managed to ask.

She moved her hair a bit, like she was nervous too. Wait, she was nervous to talk to me? Hell, being around Dave surely gave me a reputation.

“He told me how he’s trying to change for the better, to make you less nervous around him. I think that’s cute as hell!” Luckily, she was almost whispering, to avoid any eavesdropper to hear our conversation. “Man, he even apologized to Liam. You know how long I’ve been trying to do that? Ever since I’ve met him”

“I just… He wanted to change, and I gave him the method, I guess—”

“But that’s the case. He didn’t even bait an eye and straight up ignored me when I asked him for that repeatedly. But you’ve been hanging out for, what, a week or two? And he’s already almost unrecognizable from his –Excuse my words- moronic self”

There was some sort of admiration on her eyes. She was excited, and I could tell that she cared about Dave. I like her, she’s way nicer than I thought. I’m not saying I’ll ask her to hang out with me because that would be weird and I don’t want to embarrass myself any further.

Huh, she seems so nice and chilled. I’ve heard stuff about her, of course. A lot of nice things, which were hard to believe because it broke the “popular girl” stereotype by a loooong shot. And her relationship with Dave made it less believable.

The big guy is much different than her, which makes me wonder how they ended up together in the first place. According to rumors, Leslie is caring, nice and wants the best for everyone. She applied for Harvard and studies a lot to keep a perfect G.P.A, along with other extracurriculars.

She also was the mediator during Sam’s deal with the jocks to make sure nobody touched a little hair from him, which was also a nice detail.

Dave, on the other hand, was known for being an ass to everyone. Reckless and without a bit of mercy on his blue eyes, the big guy could totally break someone’s spine if he wanted to. After learning that he’s a werewolf (And an alpha werewolf, nonetheless) a few things got explained, and now he’s trying to change for the better, as I’ve already mentioned.

“I mean, I know a few of his teammates tried to pick on him after you two started to hang out. But don’t pay attention to them, most of them will follow his leader” She motioned his head to Dave’s direction “to the ends of the earth, while others will try to take over his alpha title. I’m honestly quite surprised that Butch and Lucas don’t have a purple eye today”

“Hey, heard you two talking ‘bout me” Lucas said as she finished, a few desks away from us. Was he listening to our conversation? Fuck, high school is really a danger zone to talk about private matters!

“Oh, and what are you going to do? I’d love to see you trying anything, hun” Leslie said, carelessly. Holy heck, she seems almost as reckless as Dave is.

Lucas frowned at us “What’s up with everyone lately? Faggot sickness must really be that contagious—“

BANG.

A book flew over our heads and Lucas ducked at the perfect moment to avoid it hitting his face.

“Oops. My bad, my book just slipped” Dave said. The rest of our classmates got in total silence, then started to whisper as Dave got up from his seat, walked over to Lucas and grabbed his book again.

Before he returned to his seat, he grabbed his teammates’ shoulder and looked straight into his eyes in a menacing way. I couldn’t tell if he was saying something, so I wondered what was that all about.

Lucas seemed about to piss himself, but tried to keep his stance. A few moments later, Dave just chuckled and went back to sitting next to Sam, giving me a wink as he passed in front of my desk.

“Dude, that was my book” I could hear Sam saying, and Dave apologized with a “Sorry, grabbed the first thing I saw, bro”.

“What’s all the noise in here?” Fuck, the professor entered. Lucas didn’t say a word to him, luckily. Leslie and I decided to postpone our chat for later, as class was about to start.

I couldn’t get off my head the scene that just played out in front of us. I smiled to myself, feeling proud of him even though he was as violent as when we met. It was for a good cause, though. Maybe he felt the need to step in and defend me and Leslie.

Either way, I loved my big werewolf jock.

----

Sadly, Leslie had to attend some matters by herself after class, so we just exchanged our phone numbers and went in separate ways.

I reunited with Sam and Dick at the corridor, and the former seemed pretty comfortable after spending his morning with Dave.

“He hasn’t threatened me even a single time! Could you believe that? I don’t think that ever happened ever since I’ve met him. How about you, Nate? Lucky bastard got to share a seat with Leslie!” Sam said, clearly surprised of Dave’s friendly behavior. I was glad to hear that he liked spending time with him.

I tried to say some lame excuse as to why Leslie sat with me, but nothing good would come out. I ultimately went with the “You know that I always sit with a new partner every day, maybe there wasn’t any other place and she thought ‘well, fuck it’ then sat with me for the class”.

I really can’t say for sure that they believed me, but they stopped talking about it. That’s a pro, I guess.

The day was mostly a normal one. Some of my classes aren’t the same ones that Dave picked, so we have to separate from time to time. As much as I’d love to spend more time with the puppy boy, we wouldn’t be able to meet up until breaks or lunch time. Not even after school, at least until his football practice was over.

I tried to think of a way for Butch and Lucas to not bother Dave anymore, but it seems like his teammates took Dave’s side on this one, mostly. And because of that, his mates had to shut up and do as their coach said.

Dave asked me to stay around for a while because he wanted to tell me something in private but had to head to the practice, so I just nodded and told him to text me when he was ready.

In the meantime, I went to the library and just caught up with my homework as I waited for the werewolf to text me. It was going to be an hour or so until he would be done with practice, so I had a lot of time to catch up.

After an hour and almost a half, Dave sent me [Locker room. Private chat 🐶🐶]. I grabbed all my stuff and walked out of the library, heading to the sports area.

I walked into the locker rooms next to the football field. I’ve never been into this part of the building before. It looked like your normal, grey and boring locker room, but a bit bigger and with a few shower stalls separated in a row.

Dave was sitting on a bench, in front of his opened locker and with his bag next to him. He was wearing his jersey, with the football armor underneath. I don’t think he had showered yet after the practice, but at least he didn’t look beaten up again.

He turned to face me as soon as I stepped into the room, and grinned. “Hey bro, missed you”

He got up and walked closer to me, leaning in for a nice and slow kiss. Gentle as usual, I loved the taste of his mouth as I kissed him back.

“Hey… did you wait until the locker room was empty to call me? We could have met behind the bleachers if you wanted privacy—” But he shook his head.

“It’s cool outside, so I preferred to take you to a more private place. My teammates are gone by now, so we’re pretty much by ourselves until the janitor comes to close. And I know he’s going to take a while, I’ve been here with Lee before” He explained, still smiling.

I nodded, admiring his shape. The armor under the jersey made his torso look bigger than it was, which was already quite impressive by itself.

At that moment, I felt… something. Like when Dave sucked me off for the first time, I felt the need to command him, but I also felt myself incredibly attracted to the werewolf. I think… The soulmate bond may be it, right?

It’s just a dumb theory but maybe it works as a double-edged sword? I mean, I don’t feel like I need to give myself to Dave in mind and body, but I actually feel attracted to him in a way I’ve never been to anyone else before.

“Hmm… Could you take off your jersey?” I asked, and he complied with a nice nod. Dave took off the jersey with a few swift moves and threw it on top of the bench he was just sitting on.

“I… I wanted to talk with you, bro. Ever since I’ve met you, I’ve been feeling this… warmness inside of me” He started, looking down at the floor. He was obviously nervous, but I couldn’t really concentrate on what he was telling me because of this weird feeling. I wanted him, a lot.

“Hmm… Don’t mind what I’m about to do. I’m listening, okay?”

As I expected, his eyes glazed over for a second as he vaguely answered a “Got it, bro…” Before he shook his head and resumed. “It’s no secret I love you. I mean, our classmates are still trying to figure it out but they ain’t dumb, bro”

I reached out to his body and placed one of my hands on his abs. He seemed completely oblivious to that, and just smiled nicely as he continued. “And, as your soulmate, I really look forward to doing anything you tell me. I’ve never thought I’d be sayin’ this words to anyone but… you pretty much own me completely, body and mind”

I was indeed listening to him while I explored his body, and it never failed to surprise me too when he said something like that. Hearing a jock (or more specifically, Dave) saying that he will obey you completely and that you own him is not a usual thing.

I moved my hand to his jockstrap and found a protective cup in front of his cock and balls. Speaking of his cock, as soon as I touched him earlier, it started growing hard quickly. Good old David doesn’t waste an opportunity to show off his size.

I grabbed the cup and took it out of his jockstrap, then lowered the sporty underwear. “I ain’t trying to talk bullshit here, bro. But seeing how my last attempt went, I thought about opening myself a bit more rather than just… straight up asking you, babe”

“So… you wanted to ask…?” I didn’t intend to sound like a dick, but this… dominant feeling I was having made me want to order Dave around a lot more. And since I didn’t want to interrupt him opening his heart out to me, the last thing I could do was hear him out while also appeasing myself.

I wrapped my hand around his hard cock and started jerking him off. That didn’t stop him, though. His smile just got a bit bigger as he said “I’ve said this already and I’ll never be tired of repeating it. I love you, Nate. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and when you told me you loved me yesterday, I couldn’t feel sad anymore because it was a sign that I was being a good soulmate for you”

He seemed to pant while I jerked him off, and that made him only cuter the more he spoke. He was right, I loved this guy. And even if the soulmate bond made me feel that way, I could tell that it was also my own doing.

I’m the one who tried to make him a better guy overall, and he changed without a second thought. Like the good puppy boy he was.

“Hell, I also want to be a good puppy boy and drop to me knees to act like a good dog for you, bro. I don’t know if that’s weird, but you know I’d do anything for you” The fact that he’s just completely oblivious to me jerking him off makes this chat way hotter than it should be. He started to moan in between words a bit more frequently, obviously getting closer.

“But… been m-meaning to… ugh… a-ask you something a-again…” Dave’s body suddenly stiffened, as a random stutter started to appear when he came in front of me, his cum falling straight on the locker room’s floor.

‘Now, that was a good shot’.

“Do you have a napkin, puppy boy?” I asked him. He nodded blissfully and grabbed a paper napkin from his bag, handing it over to me before resuming his position. “Thanks”

I proceeded to clean up the cum on the floor, because we’re not animals and it would be weird for someone to see this.

“As… As I was saying… Would you be my boyfriend, Nate?” Dave asked, regaining his coolness and looking down at his feet. “No matter what you answer, it’s my goal in life to serve and protect you from anything, my love. Just thought that… well, it’s totally your choice. You’re the one with the control here, bruh”

He seemed so chilled while saying that, and it’ll probably always creep me out how werewolves (in plural, because Dave’s dad seemed in bliss when he talked about his soulmate) talk about giving up control of their lives in such a chilled and relaxed way. Like it’s actually normal, for anyone to do that.

I loved how that little detail got me a buffed stud, though.

I looked up at him, as I finished cleaning up the cum and threw the napkin into a nearby dumpster. Then, I walked back to him and kissed him on the lips. He kissed me back, and then I broke it to give him my answer.

“Yup, that would be great, puppy boy” Dave suddenly gave me a really nice smile, one I haven’t seen before. Probably pure bliss? I couldn’t tell. He didn’t waste a second, pulling me closer in a bear hug and then kissing me again.

“THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU, YOU’RE THE BEST SOULMATE I COULD HAVE WISHED FOR” The big guy left me on the ground as soon as I tapped the side of his torso, because he was leaving me breathless. “I promise that I’m going to spend the rest of my live dedicating each second to loving you and providing you with anything you may need, alright?”

I recovered my breath and looked at him, surprised. “Easy, puppy boy. First off, sit” I pointed to the floor, to show that I was actually referring to sitting like a dog. He understood it perfectly and obeyed.

Then, I looked around. Shit, this isn’t really the place to be doing this. I shook my head “Sorry big guy, we’ll have to go somewhere more private first, alright?” He nodded excitedly. He got up and pulled his jockstrap up.

“I’ll shower at my house, or yours, or wherever you want me to shower, babe” Dave said, taking off the football armor and reaching out to his locker with his clothing.

This seems like an amazing day so far, and I’m glad to see the puppy boy is not sad anymore.

-----

Chapter 10 is already available in my Patreon! And by pledging you also get access to other stories before they go public!

#nate and dave #gay hypnosis #straight to gay #mind control #hypnotized #brainwashing #brainwashed

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fortunatelyhauntedblackcherry · 4 years

Text

Moonshine - A Beetlejuice Fanfiction 08

Warning: ANGST. With capital letters. So much trauma, anger, crying and death you guys. It was so hard for me to write, it was emotionally challenging, so it might do the same to some of you by reading it. There's also swearing in it.

Beetlejuice floated right through the wall between Rei's and Ari's room. He stretched his back with closed eyes and a huge smile, his bones cracking like dry branches in the wind.

- Oh babes you couldn't possibly imagine how happy I am right now! I heard a genuine scream coming my way! Ah man I haven't heard any of those in a decade, it sounded so... - Beetlejuice opened his eyes. The room was almost empty, only Sirius was inside. Couple of sewing patters were scattered on the floor, next to the already cut-out parts of a cornflower blue dress. BJ blinked at Ari's laptop; the podcast she was listening to has been stopped. - ...kinky. - he finished his sentence in a lowered voice.

He suddenly turned his head to the open window as he realized that a muffled voice came from outside. Sirius scuffled for a bit when he heard the noise and growled when Beetlejuice moved past him. The demon climbed out to the roof, following the noises. Ari was sitting at the farthest end, wrapped in an oversized dark green knitted cardigan. Beetlejuice almost called out to her, scolding her for disappearing when he had such great news but he stopped himself when he realized what the voices were. Ari was crying.

- Babes? - asked Beetlejuice, as he lowered his raspy voice. - What's going on? - Ari quickly turned to the demon's voice's direction. She had a used tissue in her hand. She quickly tried to cover her face with her hair but Beetlejuice saw what she was hiding. Her emerald eyes were all puffy and red, her nose was swollen and full-blooded too, and her lips looked like she didn't drink any water in a week. Her voice was cracking a bit as she started talking.

- Oh, it's nothing, Bug, just... - she beckoned with her hand. Beetlejuice heard as she tried to pull herself together. She let out a huge breath. - ...it's just my mental health issues. They're acting up again. - Beetlejuice stepped next to her as she cleared her throat. - Just gimme a sec, I'll be alright and you can tell me what you have done to my poor sister.

- Nonono, there's something wrong here. - he sat down next to Ari. Her legs were pulled close to her chest as she has enclasped them. She put her chin on her knees, showing as little of her face as she could. - You had a bad day last week when your anxiety was thriving. This is not like that. - Ari smiled lightly. Her wet eyelashes juddered, which made them glisten in the beams of moonlight.

- You really got to know me in the past couple weeks, didn't you?

- Yeah, that... and you also made me sit through 13 episodes of Therapy, which is an awful series by the way, so I'm basically a mind-scientist now. - Ari snorted while she let out a small, sad laugh. - So tell Doctor B, what's going on here, patient number one? - Ari let go of her knees and huffed out. She let her legs dangle off of the roof. She didn't look at Beetlejuice's direction, she just watched the darkness pass by under her feet.

- I... I got to know why do I hear you.

Beetlejuice scrowled and shook his head.

- I'm not following, please explain why does that makes you sad? I thought you wanted to know... - he stopped as Ari rubbed her temples and sighed. She kept her eyes closed while she was talking.

- B., of course I wanted to know! I wanna help, don't think otherwise, it's just... - she clenched her jaw, swallowed her saliva then continued. - The memories. They make me so goddamn angry and sad at the same time.

- I don't get it. - Beetlejuice sounded clueless. He didn't really know what she was talking about. As Ari clicked with her tongue, Beetlejuice moved closer to her and leaned even closer to her ear. His voice was as raspy as always, but he sounded much more sweet and kind. Almost gentle. - Maybe... Talking will help. I don't know, Dr. Phil says it does a lot. - Ari opened her eyes and breathed out. Her breath was jerky.

- The podcast I was listening to, you know, the one about the extraspecial demons, well... - Beetlejuice looked down at Ari's hands. She was sinking her nails into her fingertips. She must have been doing this for at least an hour, since some already left dark purple marks on her fingerpads. Beetlejuice put his hand over Ari's. The cold air made the girl shiver a bit but it also made her stop. - The show started with the hosts talking about how they invited a parapsychologist into the show so he could tell the audience interesting things about demons generally before they start to talk about the different types. So the guy said really interesting stuff, hands down, it really was good, but then he said that after a certain type of trauma, some people develop a weird... "ability". - she used her hands to emphasize the word then let them fall onto her lap again. She sighed. - Do you want to hear the long story of why do I hear you, or the short version? - Beetlejuice flinched his eyes.

- I prefer long and thick things so give it to me, baby. - Ari didn't react to his joke. She'd didn't even smile. She looked like she was was collecting her strength. After a couple minutes of silence, she finally started to speak.

- Bug, have you ever seen how my abdomen looks?

That was a sudden question.

- No? - he said in a kind of shy voice. He didn't wanna upset her more. She seemed just as miserable as furious. - You said no croptops until it's at least 30 °C... Why? - Ari breathed in and layed a bit back. She started to roll her olive t-shirt up on her belly.

Beetlejuice gasped and held his palm before his mouth. The tips of his hair started to turn into red and purple at the same time.

- Who... Who did that to you?!? - Beetlejuice held his hand above the three scars that Ari had on her abdomen. They were shapeless, with rigged edges and at least 5 centimeters long each.

- They've been with me since I was 17. - she sniffled a bit as she let her shirt down. She pulled one of her knees close to her chest again, and put her elbow up on it. - Don't worry, I already got used to them. I don't love them, but they're stuck with me so... - she sighed and look at Beetlejuice's direction. - You sure you wanna hear this story? I might cry. I might get furious and start screaming. You wouldn't like either.

- It's true that nothing is sexier than laughing and screaming of terror, but I'd surely get hard, seeing you deranged with anger. - Ari snorted at the demon's arousing voice. He actually just tried to cover up the fact that all he wanted was to kill whoever did that, and then hug the girl tight.

- Get ready for a love story that is basically horror at best... The kind where the hero still... Gets broken in the end. - she sighed and looked up at the stars. - This fucked up story starts half a year before I got my scars. I started dating a guy named... - she gulped and closed her eyes. - Matthias. - she opened her eyes with a sigh. - Gods, I hate to say his name out loud. It makes me wanna gag. It was a teenage love, I didn't see or didn't want to see his faults and I totally fell head over feet for him. You know what I'm talking about, right?

- Totally. - he had no clue.

- So you know, it was fun in the beginning. He was older than me, so nice and funny. He escorted me basically everywhere, and it just felt so good to be with him. - she sighed. - I thought that he was just worried when he told me I shouldn't go to a party with my friends cause "the world is filled with creeps", but later I realized that he was just simply possessive. - she sighed, sounding annoyed, and looked straight into the darkness of the night. - I started feeling anxious because of him when he started to tell me where could I go and what could I wear. "That's too showing, you can show that much skin only to me!" - she said in a mimicking voice. Then her face turned so dark so quickly. - He told me that if I wasn't acting nice, or behave, or do exactly as he says, that would make him look bad before his friends and a good girlfriend wouldn't want that. Shit, man, we've been together for 4 months only but I was so unstable because of him and massive bullying in school that I turned out to be an anxious wreck. - she clicked her tongue, got up and started to walk up and down, her bare feet tapping on the roof. - We went out one day, and during our "date" he repeatedly told me how I was not smart enough, pretty enough, ENOUGH, and he was with me just because no one else would want me. After he dropped me off at home, I started crying my heart out to my mom. - her eyes got teary again, but there was so much anger in her voice. - Gods she's such a wonderful woman. She taught me how to be brave, how to be strong enough to be myself. And at that moment she made me realize how I'm starting to lose my badass, weird but awesome self because of this stupid cabrón! - she kicked the air. Her breathing was so fast, and her body was radiating so much heat it could almost warm Beetlejuice up. She breathed out with a sigh. - Shit, I must look like a crazy person. Excuse me. I sometimes use spanish words when I'm experiencing a strong feeling. Multilingual things. Cabrón means...

- Pendejo, fucker, asshole, I know. - that sudden cut-in brought Ari down back to earth quickly. She knitted her eyebrows. - I had an argentinian girlfriend who taught me a bit spanish. I can cuss just perfectly. - he tried to sound calm. He really did. But oh boy he was not. The way the emotions changed on Ari's face made him remember some of his past traumas, and that made him feel a lot of different things at the same time. And he was also furious at this asshole of an ex.

Ari sat down again. She breathed out to calm herself down. After a minute of frozen silence, the demon started to talk.

- This whole thing is fucked up, you know. The whole being told what to do and where to go and how to look... - said Beetlejuice in a low manner. His raspy voice sounded... sad? He cleared his throat, even though, being dead, he didn't have to, it just felt good. - I'll totally regret this, but since we're doing this overly honest heartfelt shit that I normally hate, and I'm very much irritated by it, let me tell ya... - he looked at Ari as his hair turned more purple. - I can relate to you. My mother did the same shit to me. She made me feel worthless, a piece of shit that didn't deserve any love. - he sighed and looked up at the moon. He chuckled a bit, his voice went back from soft to normal quickly. - Dear God slash Satan, your emotional bullshit is contagious, Ari. I gotta stop hanging out with you.

Ari smiled lightly.

- You couldn't. You love chilling with me. - the demon scretched his stubbles and let out a tiny laugh.

- True. I'm hooked on that fine ass of yours. - Ari laughed a bit. She looked where Beetlejuice's voice came from previously, and held out her hands.

- You know, I wouldn't really feel it, it won't exactly be a real hug, but if you want to... - Beetlejuice didn't let this opportunity go, he basically jumped into Ari's embrace instantly. He almost fell over her body, and he couldn't really wrap his hands around her, but being this close felt so good. Ari's body radiated so much heat and hearing her heart pitter-patter inside her chest made him forget how she didn't even see him. They both smiled. - Thanks for telling me a bit about your origin story. I know it's hard to talk about these kind of shits.

Beetlejuice let Ari go and sit back a bit, still staying close to the girl. She let her hands down.

- I'm only this honest with you cause you told shit to me too. - the demon lowered his raspy voice. - But if you tell anyone about my problems, even though we are bffffs forever, I'll skewer you like a pig. Understood? - Ari swallowed and blinked nervously while nodding. Beetlejuice continued like he didn't say anything threatening. - Anyway, I still don't know why do you hear me. Are we getting there soon? - Ari nodded again and rubbed her cheek.

- Yeah, sure, buckle up for the worse part of the ride, buddy. - she cleared her throat. - When the next day I went over to his place to break up with him and to tell him that I belong to no one, and he doesn't have the right to tell me what to do, he hit me. He slapped me so hard that my cheek ripped up a bit. - she pulled her hair back a bit, revealing a tiny scar on her left cheekbone. - The next day he called me, told me that he's sorry and he didn't want to hurt me. I hang up on him quickly and got a new number the same day. I wanted him gone. But it didn't take him much time to get my new number. He called me a thousand times. But since I didn't answer, he started to follow me. Watching from the street while I was at school. Creeping around the studio I sang at. - she sniffled as her eyes started to get teary, but she quickly wiped them with the sleeve of her cardigan - You know, I called the cops. I told them everything. And they told me they couldn't do anything until he hurts me. - she chuckled in an annoyed way. She fuckin chuckled. - They didn't have to wait for that for so long.

- WHAT?! - shouted Beetlejuice which made Ari jump a bit. He jumped up in anger, the tips of his hair shining in bright red. - THOSE GUYS SHOULD TAKE CARE OF PEOPLE, NOT TELL THEM TO "GET FUCKIN HURT THEN WE'LL TALK"?!? - he squatted down next to Ari. - Let me guess, that son of a bitch ex of yours caused those fuckin scars?!?

-...yes... - said Ari with bated breath. Beetlejuice scraffed his fluffy hair and unshaven face. - I was walking home late from a rehearsal, mom was at work, and when I was already at our street, he stepped up to me out of nowhere, started to tell me how he's gonna change and after I pushed him, and told him to leave me alone since I fuckin hate him and I don't belong to him... He said that if I don't wanna belong to him, then I'll belong to no-one. And he... - tears started running down her cheeks. - Stabbed me. Again. And again.

- THIS... MOTHER FUCKER... - he bit his fist and started to babble. - I mean yeah sure I kinda get it I'm a bit possessive too, also creepy, but I'm pretty sure he could get an another hot goth chick and...

- HE KILLED ME, MAN! - screamed Ari into the abyss. Beetlejuice froze in his movement.

- W...What? - Ari sat still, hands covering her mouth. Beetlejuice squatted down next to her again. - Babes did I hear that right? - she shut her eyes and sighed. She let her hands go and stared down from the roof.

- Yes. - she said. Her voice was so weak. - A neighbor saw what happened and called the ambulance. I got rushed into hospital and... I went under surgery. They had to remove a part of my intestines asap... They got damaged from the stabs... And while I was knocked out... My heart decided to give up on me. And I died.

Beetlejuice sat down at the brim of the roof. He was shocked.

- I... suppose that's why you have a fixation with death? - he asked calmly. Ari shrugged and lifted her hands up.

- Partly... Other than the fact I was born on Halloween so it's basically in my blood... I think what really caused my obsession is that I remember every goddamn second of being dead. I remember seeing my body, covered in blood, and as I realized what was going on, I started panicking about how much more I wanted to do and how young I was to die. - she sighed with a light, not so real smile. She sounded so damaged. The demon could hear the pain in her voice. - 🎶And so, being young and dipt in folly, I fell in love with melancholy.🎶 - she looked at Beetlejuice's direction after she wiped her tears off with a tissue. - I was dead for 4 minutes before they brought me back. More or less. Looks like that's why I hear you. Many folks who die and come back develop this... "ability" to see or hear creatures from other dimensions. My special power is to hear demons, as it turns out. - she looked at the demon's direction. - Good for you I winded up in this house.

- I'm so happy about that. I couldn't ask for a better breather partner in crime in my dreams. - Ari heard in his voice that he was smiling. Oh if she could see his lightpink hairtips too... - What happened after? - asked Beetlejuice. Ari lifted her eyebrows a bit. - I mean, I hope the fucker got what he deserved and someone killed him. - Ari bit his lips in frustration, and sighed.

- Not exactly... At least he didn't got what I think he would have deserved. - she stretched out her legs. - While I was in the hospital for 8 months, on full-time mental and physical therapy by the way, I filed a report against him and got him arrested. I was so relieved... Then I heard he only got 3 years. - she fumbled through her hair. - Seriously, he fuckin put someone in intensive care for months and all he got was a couple of years then adiós, go on your fuckin way my man?! - she let out an angry growl. - Just because, and I quote, "he was young and could have a bright future", yes, that's what the jury said... - she huffed. - But the good thing is, right after he got out, he violated the restraining order that I got against him. He came to the house that Sofi, Rei, my mom and I lived in. You know, they moved in with us after I got out of the hospital because... For the first 5 or six months, I was afraid to go out without company. So my sisters helped a lot. They even kind of made me forget how my friends left me, because "I was acting overdramatic and why couldn't I just forget and be happy". - Beetlejuice raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

- The fuck is wrong with people... - Ari let out an annoyed chuckle.

- Oh my man, most of them are awful fellas. After this, I didn't even care that I missed my prom. - she swallowed her saliva and leaned back so she could gaze the stars. - So yeah, back to the subject, that pendejo came to our house in the middle of the night and demanded my mom to take him to me cause he wanted to say sorry because he missed me so much and wanted us to start a new chapter. - Ari rubbed her temples. - The police acted quickly this time and put him into jail for 3 more years. - she sighed. - Not that I think that's enough... But it was enough for us to find a new home and move away from him, as far as we could.

Beetlejuice waddled closer to her, and layed down as well.

- You know what's the weirdest thing about you, scarecrow? - Ari chuckled.

- Besides the fact that my best buddy is a demon? - BJ laughed a bit too. - No idea, Bug.

- That you're so full of life, and so goddamn annoyingly positive. If you wouldn't tell me, I wouldn't know you had so much shit to deal with. - Ari put her hands up in the air while shrugging.

- Look, I already know how does it feel to die. By the time I turned 19, I decided I'd try how does it feel to be alive. And when I'm not a mess, oh boy, it's so much fun! - Beetlejuice turned to his side and looked at the girl.

- You’re not a mess babes, you’re a... spicy disaster! - Ari laughed. It was so nice to hear that adorable laugh again. BJ looked straight into her emerald eyes that were gleaming in the moonlight. - You know, doll, I'm really sorry for creeping around. If I would've known, I... - he shut up as Ari gestured with her hand.

- You didn't know. It's alright. I hate being followed, but you're so goddamn chatty that it doesn't feel creepy at all. Plus, you're not human, which makes me more comfortable. It's somehow nice to have you weirdo around.

For a couple of minutes, they just laid there, both watching the stars. It was so peaceful, but something still bugged Beetlejuice and he just couldn't let it go.

- Hey, babes? - Ari turned her head to his direction.

- Yeah?

- If he ever finds you, can I kill your ex-boyfriend?

#alex brightman #beetlegeuse #beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice oc #beetlejuice the musical #fanfic #fanfiction #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #musical!beetlejuice #beetlejuice broadway

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milan-chica · 3 years

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Free Spirit Brave Soul Medical Assistant Leopard Heart T Shirt From AllezyGo

They served as Atty Gen the same time it took the same big they took on the same big fights to get California bow here in Delaware big fights helped change the entire country I know how much bow respected and her work that matter a Free Spirit Brave Soul Medical Assistant Leopard Heart T Shirt From AllezyGo lot to me to be honest with you as I made this decision so now we need to get to work playing this nation out of these crises we find ourselves. America cabinsand resolve to go offand find buckyand bring them back to normal meanwhile buck is off killing hydra scientistsand trying to become more human as you imagine with the shield team yeah finding out everyone’s hydra is a pretty big mess john garrettand grant were exposedand start shooting people in the faceand a big battle between hydra shield ensues in the cast that follows the us government declare shield a terrorist organization that’s fun for colson the gang john garrett breaks initials facilitiesand steals a bunch weapons from colson’s past ventures pheasant simmons end up in a medical pod which grant ward then chucks to the bottom of the ocean fits almost sacrifices himself to save simmons because they’re in love but in a fury shows up just in time to save them during colsonand team upand eventually defeat garrett to make schools in the new head of shieldand jesse were up to date his team now includes this dude called macand the studio tripletand this dude called patton oswalt after the spirit wasn’t hiding with the excellent disguise of a beanie however colson is now starting to experience side effects from being resurrected using cree fluids the main side effect is he start sketching a map of that ancient cree city for humans to find is that sin is brain now meanwhile the soon to be human is been running around the show for a while now called reyna goes to daisy’s dad calvin who is still looking for after all these yearsand tells him she’s found his daughter he really was sincere so he sets out to do that this has been the because he almost drownedand now he’s got brain damage simmons is nelson’s work undercover in hydra with the help of fellow shield agent bobby morse shield team lost recruit sassy british man lance hunterand some other people but they’re not as important agents also start fighting this inhuman called carl creel the absorbing that back over to calgary now he discovers it is usb stick with information on it that he would like to have however it’s currently in possession of guest to reva connors luke cage’s wife so he is jessica to find usb formand then orders her to kill reva jessica does it but it’s so dramatic that she manages to break free from kill race controland walks away he is then promptly hit by a bus just giving he’s dead but he survives in later forces a guy given both of his kidneys so he can live after all this jessica jones decides to become a private investigator while luke cage is pretty devastatedand also now running his bar okay now were going to go to space for quite a bit that is a still looking for those infinity stones after loki stuck to getting the tesseract so he lists run the accuser’s old cree crazy fanatic friend to help them in case you forgot the cree are still war with the no vampire the good police of spaceand it was a peace treaty involved that decree signed but ronan went rogueand started terrorizing secondary people send r is the capital of the vampire enemies a lot of weird names once i’m sorry anyway ronan with the help of dennis’s adopted daughters nebulaand gomorrah is now looking for the orb that contains the power infinity stone on places like praxis nine process nine at data know but so far no luck also grew rocket or start collecting bounties for example on this guy called balto so this point most everyone is looking for this infinity stone orb dennis wants it to come to the universe once it’s usand give it to the collectorand this random urgent wants it because it can probably be sold for a lot of money this merchant hires yonder in the rafters to get a form peter quill now going the name star lord is all grown upand despite what they taught him once to move away from the ravages so he locates the orband takes it for himself just before running into ronan’s henchmen started quill escapesand gomorrah center treated on the planet of zande are guerrillas attacked by gomorrah for the orband by writing group for huge bounty on his head in the end all capturedand sent to prison called the kiln where they meet tracks the destroyer tracks his family was killed by running under the command of panos so once revenge on both those guys which intends on getting through gomorrah in the end these unlikely five team up to get out of the kilnand plan to get the order to the collector so they can all get paid now you got the rogers were medic will the notochord who would uphold the lawand ronan once the orb on the tail is to know where a celestial head where the collector is peter so I love it gomorrah jackson arcata getting drunkand fighting but eventually through all these distractions they doand of giving the orb to the collector however one of the collector’s assistance to the stoneand a big explosion happens because it’s an infinity stone was as good markwell to take the stone back in a fit of junk vengeance just goes run into the planet a fight in a fight which she loses badlyand tries to kill more in spaceand gets the orb that peter saves her at the last minute right as a captured by the raptors ronan as the stoneand decides to betray santos giving it for himselfand paying to distressand areand then santos the crew now going by the name of the guardians of the galaxy eventually regroupand team up with the ravages to guard the galaxy they team up with another court as well a big clinic to bounces during which grid sacrifices himself to save his new friends eventually after some paddlingand dance off peterand russ the guardians grab the stoneand kill run with it saving the day in the process peter is able to hold the power of the stone for sunday does because he’s part celestial areas of the stones than of the court keep safe I wonder that’s agoand they often become kind of guns for hire also rocket pics of the twig from grits corpseand plants that create a new gruden baby form who grows with the team meanwhile the collector gets mocked by herod the duck ego the living planet celestial is my someone who held infinity stoneand realizes it must be some of his day yonder never delivered is a plan to get peter to’s planet they can join forces so we can consume everything everywhere nebula has escapedand is now hated by pretty much everyone in the universe but she really wants to kill her dad that us she tries to steal some superpowerful batteries from these aliens called the sovereign but is caughtand taken prisoner however there’s a giant monster called the obelisk that slowly drain those batteries power to the sovereign the guardians to defeated they greeted so if they get nebula as payment after they succeed however rogge still similar batteries because he’s kind of a dick that’s not a joke that’s pretty much what he did it still battery the summer discover this since in the fleet to kelly guardians but ego shows upand destroys that fleet reveals himself as peter’s dadand him peter gomorrah jackson egos helper mantis who can read people’s emotionsand make people feel emotions go back to ego’s home planet his body meanwhile rocket baby groupand nebula stage repair the ship meanwhile the ravagesand the undo off on some hooker planet celebrating the victory against ronan when yonder runs into sylvester stallone after all these years stone is a bit of foreshadowing that how yonder won’t have a nice rabbit your funeraland yonder is not too happy about it but soon after the sovereign approachand then ask them in the ravages to catch the guardians for them that’s the planet where the guardians crash landedand after b skirmish take rocketand baby group prisoner one of the ravages taser face please yonder was getting too softand stages of mutiny nebula helps the ravages take out jan doand then goes off to kill her sister onceand for all is really she just was to kill her whole family at this pointand his mentor killed the mutiny but eventually yonder rocket bondand escape with the very very slow help of baby groupand yonder’s number two crack when you gets a new arrow controlling mohawkand the murder all the ravages mastered’s in the coolest way possible meanwhile on egos planet egos teaching peter how to use his celestial powersand peter is loving it something seems off thoughand that is his beginning friends with tracksand wants to tell them about egos deep secret as in all the child murdering young to know as well that child murdering so him craband daily gruden rocket getting the shipand jump across the universe to save peterand the gang from ego nebula get steel spina first invites gomorrah but eventually they stop fightingand talk out their differences peter is getting really into ego so celestial thing welcome nebula discovered cave of the children under the surface peters advertised may goand almost as long would egos plan until ego reveals that he killed peter’s mom at which point peter steps out of itand the battle begins the process of all the cd the plantand transforming has already begunand the stuff starts expanding all over the universe including honor the guardians by egoand the sovereign as they just arrived peterand ego to get out in the weirdest way possibleand ultimately yet the guardians when an ego is no more in the process peter loses his celestial powers is not totally op when infinity work comes however to say peter yonder redeems himselfand sacrifices his own life freezing to death in outer space youngest funeral followsand all the raptures including stallone come back to honor him since they realized he wasn’t such a bad guy after all nebula gomorrah become somewhat loving sisters nebula leaves to find a way to kill santos which I guess takes another four years to get around to doing kremlin takes over yonder zeroand still reunites an old ravaged team then yonder’s honor the sovereign still pretty upset with the guardians create adam warlock to be the ultimate weapon against them though that’s also to take a few years to fully manifest also this old man has been an informant for these beings that watch the universe called the watchersand that’s all you need to know about them nowand go back to earth there’s this guy called jonathan sanborn who gets in an accident at the factory work sadand is paralyzed he seeks medical helpand physical therapy but those do nothing for so he hears about ties for the masters of the mystic art still hang outand has over there here he meets the one entries in the way of the mystic artsand eventually leaves as he can use the magic to walk again this year team is having more adventures mainly revolving around trying to figure out those weird drawings colson is doing this includes may find an agent with a mask that makes you look like me it’s probably burned onto a face that guy verna reinhardt also comes backand get his hands on the diviner again over hell’s kitchen not murdoch confesses at his church about his vigilanteand because he’s very catholic but decides to give it up anyway to make a city a safer place in the same area reporter called karen page discovers some shady activity involving money laundering going on with this companyand tries to tell one of its employees but wakes up the next morning next to his dead body holding a blade knife she’s accused of murder against nelsonand murdoch to defend her she’s doing some investigatingand so some people want to killed matt in his vigilante outfit safes are become known as the daredevil that karen such working as a secretary for nelson murdoch ever since that you turn invasion a bunch of house prices have dropped new york or something real estate related like that so they’re more russian gangstersand mobstersand all that taking advantage of the situation wasn’t fisk that the range kid from before returns him to make the city a better place but a better place for him isn’t better for a lot of people also he falls in love the woman called vanessaand start being people’s headsand with car doors those two things are mostly unrelated so that as daredevil fights back against him involving lots of dark hallwaysand alleysand beating up russians in bidding of ninjas called nobu in the process thought he discovers who he isand has a big scene of acting on the way that also provides a nurse called claire temple finds a new year’s at houston to his wounds wasn’t fisk also starts working with mme. Ways you really know why when I very dearly out there on how the world can the larry down cleanup every note and an been cresting to the returning energy are you willing to give out to joe biden here is my answer going on recollections can break your heart they can make to gain from the here was interesting to hear what the president experienced intelligent and actually believe in the rule of law was starting to see the soul of this nation and my favorite things to fix sacrificing your ideals or your commitment to family who better to introduce your children biden sleep joe biden is our dad now about it when I tell you what kind president our dad will be will be and honest caring principle to listen will be there when you need him tell you get to when you get when you will never let you down the rock candy strongly shouldering you can ever lean on every time you succeed will make your grandkids fielded what they’ve got to see others treat cream on the line get up no matter how many times he’s been knocked down

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tylergparker · 4 years

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{ malnati task #5 - you’ve got mail ( 1 of ? ) }

summary: unsent letters written “to Dylan” that are sort of kind of disguised diary entries. written over an extended course of time after Tyler moved to Chicago; dated accordingly. mild, just to be safe tw's: teen pregnancy, underlying hints of depression

Letter #1 : ( September 30th, 2014 - Tyler was 16 years old )

Dear Dylan,

Mom’s pitiful attempt at helping me deal with everything is having me see the school counselor at this new school in Chicago. Mrs. Dayton suggested that if I didn’t want to ‘formally journal’ that writing letters to people I have strong feelings to share with would also help me. You were always the easiest to talk to about anything, so here we are.

Being a child of Southern California is really not working out for me here in Chicago and I’ve only been here like two months. It’s so BUSY here, so LOUD, you know? The pizza’s weird, too, but if I said that out loud around people here I really would never make friends. San Diego was so chill, and I could go to the beach whenever I wanted. I miss it. I miss a lot about home.

I miss you. The other day I was going through a box - because of course I haven’t fully unpacked yet, I’m moving as slow as humanly possible so that maybe this mistake will erase itself or something - and I found that jewelry box you made me in wood shop. It was just a stupid jewelry box, but I cried for almost two hours.

I don’t know how to DO this, Dyl. I’m so far away from what’s familiar to me. I don’t have you to talk to anymore. I have to live with this weight of having a baby eight months ago and handing her off to strangers. I can’t talk to my parents. I don’t WANT to talk to my parents. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I feel like a whole part of me is missing. I’m sixteen years old and I feel like an alien in my own skin. My body doesn’t even feel like a body anymore. It’s just this SHELL of something that used to have a heart and soul in it and now there’s just... There’s NOTHING, Dyl. There’s nothing.

What am I supposed to do with nothing?

Letter #2 : ( November 1st, 2014 - Tyler had just turned 17 )

Dear Dylan,

Yesterday my mom took me out to dinner after ballet. Dad didn’t come. He’s still pissed at me for not going to church since we moved here. I really didn’t want to do anything this year. Celebrating myself felt like something I really didn’t wanna be doing right now.

Do you remember last year? God, I was six months along then and so, so fucking emotional. We skipped school and slept in, you woke me up with blueberry pancakes and I cried. I cried over blueberry pancakes. And then threw up about forty seconds later. Pregnancy, right?

You got rid of the pancakes and cleaned me up and let me cry on you for twenty minutes before I finally got it out of my system. And I remember specifically, that you said, “sweet sixteen is overrated anyway.” I went from crying to laughing so fast, I didn’t even know what hit me. But that was the kind of thing you were good at. You could always make me smile. Even when my mom had ruined my mood after ballet class. Even when I’d done poorly on a test and was belittling myself for it. Even when I was pmsing and having a fit over what I looked like and how I wasn’t pretty enough to date you (which lets for a second acknowledge the stupidity of THAT). You were always the sun for me, you brightened up everything, Dyl.

I could really use some sunshine in my life right now.

Letter #3 : ( December 11th, 2014 - Tyler’s 17; right before winter break )

Dear Dylan,

Christmas is crap. It’s absolute crap. The fight between the church and fucking capitalism is exhausting. The stupidly optimistic music is garbage. The bright decorations are overwhelming. And the feeling of fucking overwhelming sadness this year is unbelievably painful. It’s her first Christmas, Dyl. And I know you probably think that I don’t think about her, but I do. I know that you probably think I blocked her out of my mind as soon as I handed her to her parents, but I didn’t, I COULDN’T.

I carried that child inside my body for nine months, feeling everything. I endured twenty hours of excruciating labor to bring her into the world to then hold her for all of ten minutes before never seeing her again. Why is it so easy for you all to act like that’s something I could just FORGET? Like she’s not something that I wonder or worry about. Like she’s not my DAUGHTER, out there in the world somewhere, never knowing who I am or that even though I don’t know her, I’m always going to love her. Why can’t ANY of you understand that?

There’s nothing about this season that makes me happy. There’s no song or movie or gift or fucking MIRACLE that could make me happy right now. I feel hollowed out. I feel like I can’t even fucking feel ANYTHING.

I just keep wondering what she looks like. I just keep trying to stop wondering. I want to know what her parents are getting for her. I want to know what her personality is like. I want to know if she’s walking, I want to know if she’s excited about wrapping paper like babies get, I want to know what stupidly adorable Christmas dress they’re putting her in, I want to know what their plans are for her birthday next month, I want to know what her laugh sounds like. And more than anything, I want to stop thinking about it all.

Letter #4 : ( January 19th, 2015 - Sophia’s First Birthday )

Dear Dylan,

I couldn’t sleep last night. By the time my alarm was going off this morning, I think I’d already been crying for a half hour. Mom asked me why my eyes were puffy. I told her it was probably allergies.

Ballet’s not the same anymore. I SUCK at ballet now - my body can’t DO what it used to. I can’t MOVE like I could before. My body is DIFFERENT and I can’t get away from the why. I didn’t go to class today. Mom dropped me off at the studio but I felt too sick to go inside. I went to the Dunkin Donuts the next block over and there was a girl named Sophie working. I threw up twice in their bathroom.

What are you supposed to do when your life feels like this? When you feel both emotionally and physically sick all the time? When you don’t have anyone on your side to understand you or to help you?

Mrs. Dayton told me there’s books for grieving mothers. Like a fucking book is going to take away this fucking hole in my chest, this fucking choke-hold around my throat, this fucking churning in my stomach.

I wish I had listened to you, Dyl. I think that’s what I realize now. I’m not sure, but I think whatever we could’ve done together would’ve been better than this, would’ve FELT better than this.

And she’d be with me.

Letter #5 : ( June 21st, 2015 - Summer after Tyler’s Junior Year )

Dear Dylan,

It’s been a while. I didn’t really want to do these in the first place, so I think I gave it up after that last one and what getting that all out on paper did to me. But I met a boy at the library today, and he told me he thought I was gorgeous and for the whole minute and thirty seconds I actually interacted with him, all I could think of was you.

It’s been over a year now since you broke up with me, can you believe that? That ran through my mind for a moment. Then the reason we broke up did. But then everything before that came back real fast, too. Everything that was good. Like how you introduced me to the music that’s now my favorite. Like how your arms felt around my shoulders when you hugged me because of how much taller than me you are. Like how you helped your mom so much because you were just GOOD, not a bad thing about you.

I understand why you left me. I do get it. I get that it was hard. I understand that it was hard to see that we were just too young, too naive, too unprepared to raise a baby. I understand that you loved me so fucking much that you thought that that was enough to make it through anything. I understand how I felt about you, too, but that I was fucking terrified.

If it’s any consolation, that terror got traded in for guilt. It got traded in for feeling like a terrible person everyday, for feeling like I don’t know myself anymore. I’ve made so many changes to the person that I am. And while I feel more true to myself than I have in a long time, I also feel confused. I also feel conflicted. Everything is harder now, missing you, thinking about what could’ve been.

I think I was wrong before, when I said that I wish I had listened to you. It kills me to say so, but I think I was wrong. We weren’t ready to be parents, Dyl. And I struggle everyday with the fact that I have a child out there that’s mine but also NOT mine, but... We weren’t ready. Maybe you’ll see that one day, maybe you won’t.

I won’t know either way, right?

Letter #6 - ( September 20th, 2015 - Early on in Tyler’s Senior Year )

Dear Dylan,

Mrs. Dayton transferred to another school, so obviously I won’t be seeing her anymore. I don’t really like the new guy; he’s got your name, and that makes the whole thing weird.

You know what else is weird? That I’m a senior now. I’m a senior in high school, and you’re graduated, and we’re so far apart both literally and figuratively that it blows my mind.

Another weird thing: I think I’ve finally come to terms with things. Now, not everything. But THINGS. I’ve come to terms with the fact that my life as it stands - struggling with ballet but unable to give it up because of my mom, having little to no remaining relationship with my dad, talking to all of four people on a regular basis at school, wishing that things would get better but knowing that they just won’t - is just the way that things are going to go from here on out. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have to remain a certain level of numb, a certain level of guarded, because of that. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I loved you and you broke my heart, but I also broke my own heart, too. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s probably no way of fixing that, I’ve just gotta live with it.

But most of all, I’ve come to terms with the fact that the choices I made at fifteen and sixteen about our baby, those were the right choices. I don’t have to be happy with them. I don’t have to enjoy them. I don’t have to feel relieved or proud of them. I’m allowed to hurt, I’m allowed to feel what I feel, think what I think, wonder what I wonder. Letting that little girl have a life that we wouldn’t have been able to give her was the right thing to do. No matter how much that may hurt. In fact, I think that’s part of WHY it hurts.

I’m not gonna write you anymore. Because I think I’ve also come to terms with the fact that whether these letters to you are REALLY to you or not, they’re not helping. They’re hurting more than they’re helping. And I’ve done enough things to hurt myself without intention, I should probably stop doing it intentionally, too.

I still hope you’re doing okay. Love you always.

#malnatitasks #tyler. | letters #so i can find them easily and be very sad later

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shewolfofficial · 5 years

Text

Dad!Levi x Mom!Reader ~ Run Pt. 2

Warning: Cursing, Slight Angst at the end

Summary: You spend a few days with Levi and your friends still in the forest, one night you recieve news that the Scouts were no longer criminals

A/N: If there's any grammar mistakes please excuse them, I've started to write fanfiction after midnight and I become tired when I'm reading over it for mistakes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to birds chirping and quiet chatter from around you, opening your eyes you glanced down to your side where Rose was supposed to be sleeping only to find her not there. Shooting up like a bullet you failed to notice everyone was already awake including your two daughters. "Mommy I'm here don't worry" Rose came out from behind the tree holding a bunch of flowers she picked in her little hand "o-oh I thought you went off by yourself" you chuckled dryly to your young child who giggled and walked over to Sasha and Connie who were eating a cooked fish. You could see Levi sitting by the small river on a large stone talking to Isabelle, probably bitching about people they don't like since you usually catch them doing it.

"Good morning Y/N" Armin chirped to you as you stretched a little "good morning Armin, mornin' Mikasa" you greeted him and the girl who stood next to him. "You both get enough sleep?" you asked them as they both nodded "what about you? How are you holding up?" Mikasa replied while you shrugged "I'm alright, nothing to worry about here" you snickered as she nodded. "Well looks like someone is finally awake!" a teasing voice came from behind you, immediately knowing who it belonged to you rolled your eyes playfully turning around to face Jean who wore a devious grin "well good morning to you too.... JEAN BOYYYYY!!" you shouted to him before laughing, hearing Armin and Mikasa titter from behind you. "Jean boyy!" Sasha called out from across the little river making you laugh harder. "Oh shut up potato girl" Jean growled before facing you "if you want it that way, fine Y/N this means war" he snickered before appearing next to you and leaning on your shoulder trying to imitate your voice " 'Oh Captain Levi! I am a damsel in distress oh please save me my knight in shining armor! ' "Jean exclaimed gaining Rose's and Isabelle's attention as they watched you both.

Frowning you shot him a glare as a pink blush dusted your cheeks "sorry what was that? I couldn't hear you over the attempts of you trying to impress Mikasa" you snickered as Jean's eye twitched. "Oh I'm sorry! What was that Y/N? I didn't hear you over the fact that you never stop fawning over the Captain!" Jean shot back frowning.

Isabelle nudged Levi's side resulting in him looking to her in confusion, the only response he got was a gesture towards you and Jean trying to embarrass and insult each other. "I've actually never seen this side of mom before... It's strange but funny" Isabelle mutters as she and Levi both watch you and Jean torment each other.

Armin was now clinging onto your arm to try restrain you after Jean said that you pissed yourself on your first expedition out loud. Boy were you furious at him. "YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVET SPEAK OF IT AGAIN YOU BITCH!" you screeched in horror to the male who laughed at your expression. "Oh well at least we know who won this war right Y/N?" Jean snickered before you sent him a death glare. "You should really stop drawing pictures of Mikasa and leaving them around in the dorm Jean Boy!" you watched his face drop in terror as he paled "fine I give up you win" Jean pouted in disappointment. "Momma bear wins again!" you say proudly as Rose claps excitedly from beside you "great job mommy! Here, have a flower!" Rose smiled as she placed a flower behind your ear. "Thank you sweetie~" you sang to her kissing her forehead.

Rose was a very innocent and kind child, she would always make sure you, Levi and everyone else was happy or she'd try to cheer them up. You could tell she would be a kind young woman when she grows up. Isabelle was quite the daddy's girl, she would be interested in fighting, the Military and topics related to it. She had the personality of her father and wouldn't hesitate to jump into a fight if she wanted.

Getting lost in thought Levi didn't notice you and Rose arriving in front of him until you waved a hand in front of him "Leviii? Helllooo? You there or are you in cloud 9?" you joked hearing Isabelle snicker as Levi's gaze darted up to meet yours. "What?" he asked as you placed your hands on your hips "what's the plan for today cap?" you smirk at him "we're waiting for Hanji to return with news on the MP situation in the capital, we may be closer to not being considered as criminals anymore" Levi says as Rose sat on his knee. "Right..Well thanks for bringing me up to date anyway" you say watching Rose hand a flower to Levi and Isabelle as he bounces her on his knee. "Has... The whole house been destroyed..?" Levi asks quietly looking at you, sighing you nod "currently we're homeless, quite literally since we are in a forest" you snicker at your own joke as Levi playfully rolls his eyes.

"I'll sort the housing situation out with Historia once we get her and Eren back" Levi says as you shake your head. "Nope you can leave that to me mister! You'll probably threaten her or something" you smile to Levi who clicks his tongue "probably... Fine.. You do it then" he says knowing you won't give up until he agrees.

// Time Skip - 4 hours later \\

You watched the sunset over the hill through a gap in the trees, E/C orbs watching the blazing mass of fire and heat slowly disappear over the hills, hearing rustling of grass come up from behind you-you were soon joined by Levi who sat next to you in silence. A few minutes passed and Levi broke the silence "Sasha wants to bring you hunting for food for dinner, you know, since it's animals and all that shit so.." Levi spoke as you nodded your head laying back on the grass lookin up to the darkening sky starting to be speckled with stars. "I'll go with her in a minute.. I'm just watching the view you know?" you reply as Levi nods looking over your features, sighing he tore his silver orbs off you "I'm sorry I brought you and the kids into this mess... You three were doing just fine" he mumbles in guilt, shooting up you look at him. "Don't dare blame yourself for us being dragged into this shit, it's not your fault, it's more of my fault since I disgarded the thought of all scouts being labelled as wanted, that included the ones who retired. It's my fault not yours so don't beat yourself up over it" you say as your mother tone kicks in. Levi shakes his head running a hand through his dark hair "If Hanji wasn't there when those pigs had you at gunpoint you and the girls would be dead, I should have fucking been there to protect you three like a good father and husband" he bites his lip as I wrap my arms around him. "Nonono Levi what did I say about beating yourself up over it? What are you talking about? You're a brilliant father! The girls love and admire you! Don't forget you're an amazing husband, you've protected us and supported us more than I can count" you exclaim to him. Holding Levi in your embrace as you rocked gently back and forward.

"Now I'm going to go hunting with Sasha and we're going to get everyone dinner for tonight, if I come back and you're still beating yourself up over it you'll have to listen to me rant about how great of a father and husband you are for god knows how long, ya hear me?" you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips as you pulled you both up, resting both your hands on his shoulders. "Let momma bear take care of daddy bear and the cubs for tonight" you giggle as Levi smiles a little before leaning in and kissing your lips, kissing back you nip his lower lip before pulling away. "Now come on soldier boy, let's go back to the others" you say holding his hand and dragging him back to the others.

// Time Skip - After Dinner \\

You and Sasha managed to score a deer and hauled it back to camp where you gained some surprised faces. "Mom is that one of Santa's reindeers!? Did you kill one" Rose exclaims on the verge if tears thinking you killed Rudolf or something. "No she didn't Rose, Santa's reindeers live In the North Pole remember?" Levi instantly soothes the young girl as she clings to him.

The deer actually tasted really nice and Rose even ate it. Leaving everyone with full stomachs and tired minds, Armin and the others began going to bed. "Rose you can stay with me tonight up in the tree yeah?" Isabelle offered as Rose nodded excitedly to sleep in the tree with her big sister.

Gaining some remaining heat from the campfire you heard the light snores from all around you, presuming everyone was asleep you stayed up getting as much heat from the dying flames. That didn't last long until arms sneakily wrapped around your waist as you felt someone digging their head into the crook of your neck, catching a glimpse of Levi's raven hair you calmed down as he cuddled into you. You could hear Levi let out a low growl from behind you "what was that you were saying earlier? 'Let momma bear take care of daddy bear and the cubs for tonight'? Looks like you already done your part now why don't we switch roles... Let me take care of you tonight" Levi whispers before biting on your neck making you squeak. Standing up Levi pulled you up before dragging you a little bit away from the camp. "Levi where are we going?" you ask as he leads the way "tch.. Don't worry" was all he responded with.

// Next Day \\

You sat at the trunk of a tree watching Sasha and Connie talk to your daughters, Isabelle seemed to have a blush on her cheeks which made you snicker seeing how she formed a crush on Connie. Levi was out collecting sticks and twigs incase you needed to start a fire with Mikasa and Jean. Armin fishing in the river and you just sat there chilling, not really in the mood since you were sore from last night so you didn't fancy probably embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.

Noticing figures approaching in the distance made you quirk an eyebrow soon recognising them as Levi, Mikasa and Jean coming back with firewood you could hear Levi order them to drop it in a pile where the last camp-fire was situated.

Soon enough the darkness of night begun to creep up and arrive that signalling dinner time, luckily you managed to catch a rabbit but immediately got attached to the white fluffy animal and quickly be-friended it.

Now resulting in you holding the litte creature to your chest as everyone stared at you like a hungy pack of wolves. "Y/N hand over the rabbit" Jean said reaching for it, scurrying backwards your back his against the tree. "Cone on Y/N it'll be quick and easy, it won't feel a thing" Connie tries as you shake your head pouting. Levi walked past them giving you a fed up expression "Y/N give it." he said squinting his eyes down to you holding out his hand. Wrapping the small ball of fluff in your arms protectively you refuse Levi which makes him frown at you. "Y/N it won't feel a thing, just hand it over" Levi attempted once more before you sighed and gently passed the small bunny to Levi, holding it by the stomach with one hand he turned his back to you. A few seconds later you heard a firm snap making you flinch as the rabbit dangled from Levi's grip on it's ears.

You literally had to force yourself to eat a part of the cooked rabbit which made you gag, rabbits had been your favourite animal since you were young. Managing to befriend one then have it immediately die a few minutes later upset you. Once you finished eating your friend you laid against a tree outside the small circle of people eating your little friend. Not long after Hanji appeared with Moblit with news on the whole government issue. The fake king had been exposed and the scouts were no longer criminals. Watching everyone jump and shout for joy including your two daughters, sitting in the background watching them celebrate you knew since the fake king has been exposed, the mission to retake Wall Maria will be happening once everyone regroups meaning you will have to leave Levi for another while without seeing him.

That could last god knows how long, and it's Wall Maria for bloody sake! The place is full of titans! This made you feel even more sick to the bottom of your stomach with worry about your husband and friends.

You had to admit, not seeing Levi for a few weeks upset you, getting to be reunited with him for under a week made you happy but the thought of having him leave again broke you since there's a chance he might not come back one day.

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot #shingkei no kyojin #x reader #levi x reader #levi #snk #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi #fanfiction #captain levi x reader #fanfic #anime #manga

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okimargarvez · 6 years

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BAD TIMING

Original title: Cattivo tempismo.

Prompt: fluff, fear of love.

Warning: post 13x5.

Genre: comedy, romantic, angst, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, JJ, Derek Morgan, O.C. (Luke’s mom).

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 12 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘👓🎈.

Song mentioned: Difendimi per sempre, Tiziano Ferro.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

This story is dedicated to my sister of delirium @theshamelessmanatee

BAD TIMING

He has been waiting for this moment for a century or so. The ability to replicate what had already happened months ago, going beyond. And it's (was) all sadly perfect.

It's shabby, indeed, really sad that he needed to find out that Penelope's date was ended with a gunshot, to decide to find the courage to face his feelings and finally ask her out.

Technically he hadn't asked her anything yet. But he had prepared everything else.

Flowers. It took a whole day to decide first whether to buy flowers or if such a gesture would be interpreted in negative; he remembered Garcia's words perfectly when she admitted to practicing non-violence in her food choices, but he didn't know if this concept was true for plants as well. So, he had opted for a circumspectly collection of information. Starting from JJ. He had simply asked her if Will had given her flowers often, before they married, if it had been a gesture woman would have appreciated nowadays or if it had become a retro romance. The blonde of course had looked at him strangely, but the man was quick to explain that one of his cousin was in a very bad mood and he just wanted to help her. He was not sure that Agent Jaerau had been bought his story.

Then he had done the same thing with his mother. He had called her and had asked her more or less a similar question. But the old woman had been much more alert and straightforward than her colleague. -Ninito, if you want some advice to ask a date with a girl, tell me clearly! Don't make fun of your mother, don’t treat me like I were a stupid and naive lady!- so, Luke found himself with a more serious problem to solve, to apologize to his mother and regain her love. And there had been no better way than to admit everything.

-Ok. There's a woman, I've already told you about her...- she had interrupted him almost immediately.

-Penelope.- she had simply limited to saying. If he could have looked at her, he would probably have looked at her like an alien creature. But he had had to make do with a strangled cry, followed by a prolonged silence. -Son?- the other had asked.

-When you have taking a profiling course? How do you know it's about...- he was almost afraid to say the name of the computer technician -...Penelope?- his mother had let herself go to a short, liberating laugh.

-Ninito, you came out of my belly! Don't forget it.- if his father had still alive, he would surely blush. Despite the Catholicism in which she was born and grew up, and in which she believed deeply, Adriana was a woman capable of pungent and witty jokes, to go beyond a simple morality and didn't have trouble saying what she thought. Never, not even at her child. -I certainly don't need to take a course to psychoanalyze you. It's the colleague of which you told me about most. And it's not just a question of quantity, but also of quality. You should listen to yourself, really, I'm not kidding, you should try. You should really hear yourself talking about her, her skills that made you solve a case brilliantly, you should be able to hear your enthusiasm when you told me about the moment she met Roxy "the smile she did... the whole world was absorbed from that smile", your words. Or when you told me that you tried to console her and bought her that anti-stress puppet, or... - hearing a different point of view, of a person who was completely extraneous because too distant, had given a decisive shock to agent Alvez.

-Ok, enough, enough. I get your drift.- Adriana had laughed again.

-You deal with bombs, serial killer every day and a sweet blonde makes you shake like a schoolboy on his first day of school?- she had slightly teased him, as only a parent is authorized to do. -You're exactly like your father.- and this was certainly not the first time she told him.

-So, how Dad did get married to you?- or that Luke asked her this question.

-I had to make the first move, you know very well. Now, gather all your courage and try. Which woman could resist my child's charm? I still want so many beautiful nephews and I feel I have never been so close to realize the dream... please, don't ruin everything.- while he listening to the voice of the woman, he had noticed out of the corner of his eye a great movement. It was Roxy who wanted to go out for a walk.

-Well, mom, now I have to go. My girlfriend claims me.- he had distinctly heard Adriana's snort.

-Look that mine wasn't a suggestion, but an order.- a last attempt.

This time he had been the first to laugh. -I know. I love you, don't go to sleep too late!- while the old woman closed the call he had managed to hear her still mumble something like "Look if at my age I have to be treated like I was the daughter”.

His mother's words had bounced in his head for a long time. He had finally decided that the flowers would be a good choice. After all, JJ also confirmed that women still liked that kind of attention. So, weeks passed, from that telephone conversation, and several occasions presented themselves before him.

The first was undoubtedly the time when Garcia decided to change his nickname, from Newbie to "Cool Hand Luke", provoking in him a tumult of emotions; first because he had asked himself the reason for this nickname, she had had no way to find out if his hands had a classic hot temperature or the opposite, then he had visualized clear immediately the image of his own hands that passed form her shoulders and back in other areas... But next to him was JJ, who had looked at him and she had also asked "What did you do to her?" after the bespectacled blonde had greeted them with yet another ambiguous joke "I'm the genie in genealogie, just rub my lamp".

He could go to her, after the case was over. And finally ask her out. But he had backed up. Any excuse was good not to take that fateful step. The terror (not fear) to receive a no was louder than any good perspective would open with a yes.

When, however, Luke sees Garcia almost running away, during the exposure of the case of the cannibal of Bridgewater, he understands that this time the situation is different. There is something serious behind a similar output. He stays perhaps longer than the others staring at the spot where she disappeared. But he turns in time to hear the explanation given by their leader.

The words come to him broken, confused, as if his ears refuse to accept this fact.

A man (call him that) had shot to Garcia while, ten years ago, they had worked to this case.

His first thought is precisely about the timing. Ten years earlier, when I still didn't know her. When I don't even know she existed. And where was he, what was he doing while she tinged with red the steps to her apartment building? JJ was in fact the one responsible for adding details. The name, for example, but this doesn't ring a bell; his profession: ranger, policeman with a several medals. Ranger, like him. He could have known him, talked with him, had lunch at his table, became his friend... not. It's not an acceptable prospect. It makes him too human, and this it can't be said of someone that had made a similar crime.

How someone can do harm, physical, moral, of any kind, to a creature as Penelope Garcia?

This is the big question that arises him, but also for the colleagues that are equally ignorant of the facts, that Luke however can't perceive. The only echo are those words, fragments of sentences. Until he fails to recover himself enough to ask for something in his turn.

-Where is he now?- in a damned prison, he hopes her answers. With his connections it would take very little to get an interview. At least this way he could put the question directly to the person concerned.

But JJ deprives him of this comfort. -He's dead.- he is partly angry that he was deprived of that privilege, partly relieved to know that it's no longer a threat for her.

From his mouth come out a -Good.- that could very well says a damned soul that Dante meets in his pilgrimage to Hell. How much darkness in his soul, just barely visible. Cullen, the sorrow caused to Phil and by extension to him, confusing flashbacks of the war and the same number of flash-forward about what he could have been if he hadn't adopted Roxy. He still turns again to look toward the door, but Penelope doesn't reappear. He would raise happy, sending the case to the hell, because he can't concentrate. He would do it and he wouldn't caring of what others may think of him, because it counts only that she's okay. This is love, not just love, but those with capital letter. He would be willing to cancel himself for her, and this isn't necessarily a good thing. However, he remains there, in his place.

But even when, on the plane, the angelic face of the blonde not appears on the screen and in its place, peeps an equally attractive woman, with the wheat-colored hair too, Luke decides that it's time to do something.

He would willingly remain in place of JJ. But she is the best friend of Garcia, is the one who shot Battle and sent him to his reward, she was there when it all happened, knows everything. It was the best choice leaving her at Quantico. At the same time, he can't look the other way when, gathered in the police station room, Emily call the computer technician and the expert in communications in the press answers. Rossi asks how Penelope is and the other beat around the bush, then say she is recovering, but slowly.

Luke passes the first night in Bridgewater buying a flower pot, booking it for date to be determined and a puppet heart-shaped, without any written above, but soft (as he imagines her curves are), a pillow that she could embrace in moments of sadness, and that would make her think of him.

During the second night he elaborates the strategy how to dress. He asks Jenny to prepare a white shirt and dark blue pants, along with the most elegant shoes and serious that he possesses, which he didn't use at a funeral. He also asked her to take care of Roxy a bit 'longer. The lady agrees, but first he must reveal her the reason for all this movement, including those strange parcels he received. And Luke has to put up with the enthusiastic cries of his neighbor, who is a prelude to those of his mother, when she'll knows that he finally decided.

Everything is so perfect, in the mind of Luke Alvez, when he crosses the threshold dressed like a man, if he would look in the mirror, wouldn't recognize in himself. Yet he isn't only the ranger with boots and sports jackets. He can be even more, he can also be the one that makes the hurt heart of Garcia beats, he must be.

Outside it's raining, just little, just what its needed to give a certain atmosphere to hugs and cuddles on the couch, with a blanket to hide the bodies and movements.

He doesn't think about anything, while the elevator headed up floor by floor up to them. He doesn't think anything or at least he strives very much, while he walks throw to his fate, he tries not to feel like a condemned man who goes to meet the gallows. This isn't about court Penelope to take her to bed, the issue it's much more serious. His only objective must be to make her smile again. Make her understand that not all men are like that bastard who dared to take advantage of her. That wasn't her fault, because surely, she thinks it, that nothing justifies what he did.

He doesn't want to repeat the sentences he will tell her, the way he wants to start out. But eventually he succumbs and finds himself moving his lips without making a sound, mentally testing the part. In the noise of his thoughts, however, something new sneaks up, which he doesn't immediately recognize. A feminine, silvery, unmistakable laugh. Penelope is laughing out loud. He tries to find the source, then hears that other to make her echo, masculine. He looks up at the chiefs' offices and takes the stairs until he reaches the door, ajar, of the ex-office of Agent Derek Morgan. And he sees them, in there, sitting on the leather sofa, close, hands intertwined and eyes shining. He hears him showing his son's video, Hank, calling her "Aunt Penelope". He feels the happiness and the emotion of the woman.

And certainly, he would stay there indefinitely, dazed, until they would discover him by going out. But JJ arrives to stop hypnosis. Only when she pronounces his name the man realize that he has tears in his eyes, that he is one step away from crying.

It was all so fucking perfect. He was ready, this time he wouldn't back out, he would have done it. He was, he was; implies a past time, bygone, and no longer recoverable, changeable.

-Luke, are you okay?- the woman looks at him, she notices the droplets on the sides of his dark eyes, the mouth slightly ajar and the look lost in the void of her colleague. Just as she had noticed the interest in her friend, from the beginning, since the remote control passed after some trick of dexterity, perhaps even earlier. JJ knows perfectly well that Luke is deeply interested in Penelope, perhaps even in love. She certainly doesn't need confirmation. And because she is the one that has called Morgan, she understands that something serious has happened, that Luke is in crisis and who knows if it will be possible to solve.

He doesn't even seem to see her, he brushes her with his eyes. He is panicked. -I .. I have to... Roxy needs me.- and how it would happen in a movie, he flees. Less than ten seconds later, Garcia and her dark chocolate come out happily, arm in arm. Both immediately notice the upheaval, which has now passed on JJ's shoulders.

-Hey, blondie, what's that face?- in the beginning Derek tries to seems ironic, but the concern is revealed in his tone.

-Nothing, nothing...- she can't convince him, but however he has to take the plane, Savannah and his baby are waiting for him, so the man greets her and leaves them alone.

-JJ...- Garcia certainly doesn't intend to surrender. She has nothing better to do than to torment her poor friend. -OhMyGod.- she pronounces everything attacked, as in her best moments of anxiety. -Don't tell me that... it's about the children?- she asks first. -Or did something happen to Will?- she can't imagine what could upset JJ outside of her family.

-No. They're fine.- the other woman feels guilty for making her worry. She has just emerged from a much more serious trauma; her emotional balance is still very fragile. So, at least, their manuals teach. -It's not about me.- she adds.

Penelope opens her eyes protected by lenses and a colorful frame. -And what concerns?- the tone of voice is lower and flickering. She is afraid of what she already knows.

-You.- she swallows. -And Luke.- hearing the name of Newbie on the lips of her best friend, in a context that not certainly regards the work, cases to be solved, it's a strange experience for the computer technician. It makes her think of him as a well-rounded, real man.

-Alvez? What's he got to do with me?- she be careful to call him by surname, to keep her distance, although lately they were become a little 'closer, or for the less she has granted a bit' of truce to him. However, she blushes anyway.

-What do you really think about him, Penelope?- is the serious tone, the stern look and devoid of any kind of irony or mischievousness, and the use of her proper name, alarm the shapely woman. Why she is asking her a question like this right now? Did something happen to Newbie? No, they would have warned her in this case. There would be also the others, at this moment they would be heading towards the hospital and... Why the hell do I feel a pang in my heart at the thought that something bad could happen to him? The excuse that she loves everyone isn't enough for her, each as a member of her family. He is different, he was always being a thing apart. -I mean- JJ resumes when she understands that the other isn't going to reopen her mouth. - Do you like him?- she gets this straight, this time.

-But...!- she puts her hands to the face, in a very theatrical way. -What treacherous question!- she hides behind those exaggerated gestures, tries to protect her soul, to preserve for herself that feeling that she believed unripe, that she thought was a crush and instead she discovered in an instant is much more serious. -I have just got back from a shock, and you...- the other woman shakes her head, there is no more time for these farces, these little games.

-Garcia, please.- she limits herself to saying. And it's more enough than a thousand reproaches.

-Ok. I... I don't know.- she admits sincerely and her friend believes her. She reads the sincerity, the loss, the hope and the terror in her eyes, all mixed together. -Why are you asking me?- it's her turn to ask a question.

-He was out here.- she responds very frankly, ignoring Penelope's pupils widening as she listens to her explanation. -With a vase of flowers and a package, maybe a pillow, shaped like a heart.- she so easily can imagine this, all too easily, imagine those objects in his hands and for a moment she lost herself in trivial issues such as Which he had held in the right hand and what with the left? Then she recovers.

-What?!- there must be some other logical explanation to justify such a gesture. She can't afford to consider that hypothesis. It's the only one which she rejects a priori. But still she decides to test it, bringing it out from her world of anxieties in the real one. -You think he wanted to ask me out?- JJ can't take it and burst out laughing in her face, just a chuckle, but sufficiently strong.

-I don't think it.- she gives her that look, the one that she reserves her from Kevin's times. -I know it!- she almost screams.

-But... but... it makes no sense.- Penelope stutters. -Why then he went away?- she has denied so many times, but it took only a glimmer of hope and already she has agreed it.

-He saw you with Morgan.- her friend reveals, last surprise. Even the final piece falls into place. She can't imagine Alvez jealous of her best friend... or yes? The only time those two stalwart men had shared the room, for less than five minutes, returns in her mind. When Scratch had sent a false message to Derek, hacking her (her!) telephone. He had looked at them with that wry smile, that made her always ask what flavor could have those lips so cheeky.

-Oh, damnit.- JJ nods sympathetically. But staying here and talk to her, to summarize everything, not help anything. She glances, and they already have agreed. -I'm going.-

He didn't cry at the end, he there was very close to gone, but hasn't dropped even a tear. Not that he was held himself in the name of some stupid stereotype, that real men don't cry. Simply he had the lump in his throat there in front of the office of Morgan, in front of the woman he loved, whose happiness had been returned by another and not by him. And along the road from the elevator to his home, the river was reduced to a trickle, just a few drops when he had finally closed the door.

Roxy, the breath of his dog was doing him to sleep. The television, never used much in this house, it enters in his head with a phrase, a series of phrases that seem written especially for him. A sing, impersonated by an Italian singer, famous in Latin America, which is certainly not a case that his mother and to his imaginary cousin, he likes to think, liked him so much.

...for those who know how to respect the time and prefer to feel bad, they don't need drugs and can speak... and recognize himself in the mirror to many seem indifferent, I recognize the dignity to those who can feel sometimes nothing...

He doesn't believe exists in the world someone who feels more nullity of him right now. Because in the end it was fair to have gone like that. Derek is better than him, He knows Garcia a lot longer, knows how to make her smile even calling her. He's not on him level.

He snuggles closer to Roxy, who moans in protest. He hugs her and dreams Penelope.

At one point the dream must be get out of hand, because he feels her heartbeat getting louder and louder, or was it his? He strives to remember the last thing he "lived" before he opened his eyes and finally succeeds: the computer technician was showing him the scar testified the gunshot she wound received, without any mention erotic implications. She allowed him to lay his hand to feel her pulse...

But what he hears it's not a heart, someone is knocking at the door.

The man walks, still dazed, uncertain. He looks through the peephole and almost faints. On the threshold of his house there is the creature of his dream.

-Hey.- she tells him as soon as Luke opens the door.

-Garcia.- he hopes to call her by name makes this less personal. Obviously, it doesn't work. He rolls his eyes, blinks his eyelids several times. No, she is always there, watching him, probably she thinks him is the idiot he is.

-I can come inside?- the tone of the woman is very sweet, mild and delicate, like it was rarely when she talks to him. The man moves away, watching her cross the threshold, and come to his mind a stupid thing, that should not concern with this situation. Vampires must ask permission to enter the house of their victims. But Garcia isn't a creature of the night, despite the pale skin... although, dressed as Dracul wife, she would be so beautiful...

-Yes, yes, sorry.- the phrase comes out with a slight delay. After all, being late is his specialty. Penelope looks around, of course she notices the aspect not lived-in feel of the home, yet she knows that Luke lived here for almost two years, there is hardly an identifying sign, only the things of Roxy, including the well-known stuff she had donated for her in the time. They are the only signs of disorder, for the rest feels like they are in a barracks. And then she notices them. A jar of flowers, balanced precariously on the edge of the table, and a heart shaped object, exactly as JJ had described them. He follows her gaze up to those things, which now appear to him as evidence, the substance of his failure. He would have to throw them in the trash, but he couldn't. He purchased them, even before he had choice them, thinking about her. He can’t get rid of it so easily as he would like.

-You had a date, with some nice girl.- the phrase she says doesn't seem a question and maybe it's not. She doesn't sound even ironic, sarcastic at times bordering on the bad, like when she told him to tell Roxy to warn her when she came in her senses, breaking up with Luke. Instead, it sounds genuine, clear. Her eyes don't seem to judge him.

-Yes... no.- the super special agent no longer in training answers stammering. -She is a beautiful girl, definitely- the only moment when he smiles -but I didn't have a date. I still had to ask her.- she isn't profiler, although she has repeatedly touted that she was profiler "by association"; but she doesn't need that skill to notice the use of a past tense, that indicating the disillusionment to have another chance.

-Why didn't you, then?- they move in two way. For those who don't know anything, she might seem like a friend, a colleague nosey who just wants to get a little 'gossip for the next day, to sauce the next day's work ahead of them spicy. But the girl whose Luke is talking is the one that he has in front of the nose, and Penelope has to repeat it herself several times, not to be jealous of herself. -What mad woman might not accept your invitation?- is the first step, the first attempt on her part to expose herself, feeling that the situation isn't balanced. She knows what she feels for him, but the man didn't, and he doesn't even know that she know... What a mess!

-I know one, and she is more than enough - Luke says bitterly. She would slap herself, for making him feel bad, but she didn't it in purpose, she didn't know...

-Oh, this bad girl broke your heart?- if she had the opportunity to observe herself from the outside, to practice the estrangement so loved by Bertold Brecht, she would laugh at herself. It's so strange perhaps she thinks herself crazy, and now in the beautiful words she thinks herself as an asshole. But she feels such, and so it's right that she describes herself in this term. She must let him know that she knows. But how big can ingenuity of a lover be?

-I think she doesn't knows how I feel about her.- he defends her promptly. Good guy to the end. She wanted to ignore it, but now can't. -She always makes everything so hard...- Penelope bites her lip, restraining herself not to stop him, now that he seems ready to open up and break the game. -... and it's for this reason that all I do is think of her... - better than JJ is right, because she wouldn't bear to discover that the unfortunate one who has turned him in this way is another woman, the one who cooked him up good. The intensity of the male gaze makes her think that maybe he has finally understood. His look literally perforates her. It's extremely sexy and serious.

-Maybe she behaves this way because she is afraid of hurt herself..-- she falters, speaking of herself in the third person. She tightens the arms to her body and does exactly that she has described. She is surprised that Roxy hasn't yet arrived to greet her. But perhaps those who seem to her hours are nothing more than few minutes and maybe that dog is so smart that she understood that this is a time that she and her master must live alone.

-I'm scared, too.- Luke bluntly admits. -But... - she makes him shut up while her voice overlapping his.

-Why you didn't ask her a date? - now the two know they are referring to her. But the play must go on again for a while.

-I wanted to comfort her, make her understand that in order to make her smile I would be willing to do anything. Although I don't know if I'm worthy to make her happy. I was able to snatch her a smile only once, when she met Roxy.- hearing appoint herself the dog raises her head, but lowers it when understanding that it's not yet time to take action. -But the only thing I can promise is that I always will do everything at best to make her happy, every day to paint a smile on her face.- the man ends his confession. That is worth almost more of an "I love you" or, considering their dialogue on a double wire, "I love her."

-So... - it's all she can say a heavily dazed Penelope.

-There was already another. I have been anticipated. I arrived late, I was on borrowed time...- now he sounds ironic and bad, to himself. -He is married and there isn't any kind of romance between them- almost more strange is to hear him describe Morgan -but I'll never live up to a such feeling.- he seemed to have partially approached, now, with the latter phrase, he is totally away, even giving her shoulders, unable to meet the woman's eyes, after he stripped in front of her, not understanding why she came to his house, why she did this theater of speech in the third person.

-Maybe you should leave her a chance to judge?- Penelope's voice caresses his shoulders, is balm for his bleeding heart, pepper simultaneously, which teases him in another way. -Prove yourself, my handsome SSA.- just an adjective, eight letters, one word. Handsome.

Luke turns around and his hands end up on the woman's face, those of Penelope do the same thing, their lips come together without anyone of them ask who was be the first to begin.

Something similar is what Penelope tells him, about an hour later, while dozing on his chest, on that same couch where less than an hour before he was maudlin from himself. -It doesn't matter being first, but getting.- Luke's hand strokes her hair, the other arm rests limply on her side. Roxy is at the bottom of their feet and seems to be asking them if they would be more comfortable on the bed. But neither of them wants to get up, even separated for only a moment, though the reconnection would be immediate.

And then they remain there, suspended in an instant without time.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @itsdawnashlie @talesoffairies @janiedreams88 @kiki-krakatoa @yessenia993 @teyamarra @c00lhandsluke @gcchic @arses21434 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jarmin @kathy5654 @martinab26 @thisonekid @thenibblets @perfectly-penelope @ambrosiaswhispers @maziikeen92 @lovelukealvez @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @ichooseno @ megs2219 @rkt3357 @franklintrixie @thinitta @chewwy123 @skisun @maba84 @saisnarry @myhollyhanna23 @thenorthernlytes

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #luke x penelope #penelope x luke #alvez x garcia #garcia x alvez #criminal minds #cm #13x05

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bambamramfan · 7 years

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A good defense of Big Bang Theory.

We were still talking about Big Bang Theory after we wrote Friday’s Strip, and how my mom likes it because “that’s how I am,” which is a comment that is abrasive to the surface of the brain.

I can’t speak for other people’s moms, I can only speak for mine: I think it might be tough for a while if your boy isn’t the kind of boy you would use a capital B to describe. One who isn’t maybe a one hundred percent on board with the boyly virtues. These are moms who spent a lot of time in terror that their boys were going to get the shit kicked out of them, a fear that manifested in Truth with some regularity. These are brutalities that may not abate until high school is finished, and some of the injuries you sustain you might not even recognize as injuries until you start visiting them on someone else.

For my mom, a show like The Big Bang Theory is such a vindication. She was right; is right, retroactively. The world simply had to catch up to what they already knew: that, if they could survive adolescence, their sons could gain access to the treasures of society even if they didn’t do it the right way.

The thing to keep in mind about the young people in your charge is that what you perceive as irony, they perceive as sincerity. So, I’ll see something like The Big Bang Theory and think, that’s not funny to me. Those are just the people I know performed in such a way as to delight people who don’t understand them. My son sees it and thinks hey, there’s someone like me, on television, and it’s okay for them to be there.

Growing up never stops being difficult.

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estimize · 7 years

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Revenge of the Humans: How Discretionary Managers Can Crush Systematics

This is the entirety of a three part series that was originally published byIntegrity Research and titled The Great Quant Makeover - Part 1: How Discretionary Managers Can Cope with the New Systematic Realities, Part 2:The Rise of the Quants and How Some Successful Discretionary Managers are Responding, Part 3: Revenge of the Humans or How Discretionary Managers Can Crush Systematics

Six months ago I found myself in our Estimize office sitting across the table from a hedge fund portfolio manager who said something I honestly couldn’t believe. According to this PM who runs a $500M long/short book at a large multi-manager fund, he was taking a data science course at night, after work. He told me, “if I don’t learn how to do quantitative analysis I’m not going to have a job in two years.”

A second said the same thing to me a week later.

Two weeks after that I received an email from the “school” providing that very course, inquiring if I could teach a data science class, specifically for finance, to 25 members of a hedge fund who had contracted them.

These are just a few anecdotes among many in the absolutely massive transformation taking place right now within the discretionary institutional management industry. Discretionary managers have woken up, and are now scrambling to understand what’s taking place and how they must change in relation to it. Many will not survive the shift. Others will take advantage and be better off for it.

This piece takes a deep dive into the following themes and how institutional managers can begin to effectively redirect themselves:

Investors have woken up to the asymmetric risk they were taking on with active discretionary mutual funds, hedge funds and RIAs who were basically playing with beta instead of generating alpha. Now they are pulling their money.

Asset flows are moving into “passive” ETF strategies and will continue to move further into smart beta ETF strategies, long only active management is headed to the grave.

Hedge fund assets are flowing out of discretionary and into quantitative systematic strategies which have produced far more consistent alpha. They also blow-up less often.

Most classic systematic alpha strategies are based on price; volume and fundamentals have been arbitraged out and are now betas. This has precipitated a race to build new alphas with new data sets.

Discretionary managers are scurrying to incorporate new data sets, but lack the understanding of how to analyze their efficacy and more importantly, how to incorporate them into their discretionary trading processes.

If discretionary managers remain disciplined and execute their rubric faithfully, they can crush systematic quants, but they must solve the religion vs. science question first.

The organizational structure of discretionary management teams along with the type of people they hire is broken and outdated for today’s challenges. Changes are starting to take place, but all too slowly for many players to survive.

Building the right infrastructure will remain pertinent to surviving this shift. Both quant and discretionary firms must hire teams that include engineers, product managers and quants to suss out new data sets.

On June 20th, Estimize will be hosting the L2Q (Learn to Quant) Conference, a one day seminar designed for discretionary institutional PMs, analysts, and traders who know they need to move quickly and efficiently towards building quantitative processes. Segments will be taught by preeminent buy side, sell side, and unique data experts with vast quantitative investment experience at Two Sigma, PDT Partners, WorldQuant, Wolfe Research, Deutsche Bank, and others.

But before that, let’s take a deeper dive into the topics above, and why we felt a whole conference was necessary to explore them.

1. Getting Paid For Playing With Beta Is Over

Looking back, it’s hard to understand why anyone was willing to give most discretionary fund managers money in the first place. The truth is, most PMs were simply playing with beta, whether it be momentum, mean reversion, value, growth, sector or market cap. Managers were leveraging these far more often than they were actually generating alpha. Now we can all argue over whether correctly timing the use of betas is in itself alpha, but that argument is made moot by the fact that the vast majority of PMs were unsuccessful at this in the long run and eventually blew up.

The greatest trick the industry ever pulled was making LPs believe that they could consistently leverage beta and not get caught with their hand in the cookie jar, giving up years of returns in a matter of months. Over and over, fund managers took their “two and twenty” to the bank in the years they happened to be on the right side of that equation. Then they blew up. Instead of fighting back to their hurdle, they just closed shop and opened up a new one, somehow convincing investors to play the same asymmetric game of risk once again. Heads I win, tails I take a vacation for a year and someone gives me another coin to flip later.

Don’t get me wrong, there are managers who have proven track records of not blowing up while playing with beta, and some even generate true alpha, but they are few and far between. Good luck picking the correct fund manager.

Why did it take the market so long to wake up? We can start with the great answers you’ll hear from friends of mine like wealth manager, Josh Brown. He fully understands the social and egotistical aspect of being invested in these funds, not because it’s the rational thing to do, but because of the accompanying prestige. The same can be said for managing your own personal portfolio; it’s something to talk about at a cocktail party. And while it seems our current political climate echoes the movie Idiocracy, financial market education and investor behavior have actually taken a huge leap forward since the ‘08 crash. I find it interesting that retail investors actually got smart before pension funds, pulling money from active managers, closing their brokerage accounts, and investing in passive low cost ETF strategies.

As for the tens of thousands of small RIAs, why would I give them my money either if I can buy a smart beta ETF for 20bps that does basically the same thing they were for 100bps? You’re gonna tell me that all those mom and pop RIAs managing $40M are executing those smart beta strategies as efficiently and accurately as iShares? Please. It’s only a matter of time before Betterment or some other robo-advisor allows its clients to algorithmically allocate a portion of their portfolio to these strategies. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them also provided the ability to use simple, proven, market timing overlays in order to rotate in and out or long and short certain smart beta strategies.

Hedge fund PMs have to realize that even though they are in last car on this disruption train, the conductor is coming to clip their ticket as well. They will either evolve or die, like any other industry disrupted by better efficiency. I think it’s obvious that there will be far fewer of them as most will not successfully shift to generating alpha.

2. All Investing Is Active, Even The Passive Kind

Let’s clear something up, there’s no such thing as “passive investing”. The words we use matter because they form the basis for how we think about things and the actions we take. The developed western world is ripping itself apart over an inability to win a “war on terrorism” because, for propaganda purposes, we decided to say we were fighting a war on a military tactic (you didn’t have to study war theory in school like me to know you can’t win a war against a tactic).

All investing is active, even the decision of how to weight an index, what goes into that index, and how to allocate your capital amongst different asset classes. Just because the computer keeps your allocation levels static does not mean you’ve abdicated responsibility for investment decisions. This is why I’m such a big fan of smart beta, because it does away with the ignorant notion that you can avoid making a decision on beta to begin with. We all have to, so we might as well make that decision in an informed and active way.

In any event, we’re going to continue to see massive flows of capital out of “active” long only mutual fund and long/short hedge fund strategies and into these. The question on everyone’s mind is, how will this affect the market? My best guess is that we’re not going to see the downside of massive systemic risks some are warning about when everyone is indexing. The latter part of 2016 and beginning of 2017 prove that even with all the indexed money, correlations can still drop quickly when macro factors evolve. After the 2016 election, cross-asset correlations that have existed for the past decade began to break down as pictured in the charts below.

Exhibit 1: Cross-asset correlations have fallen sharply

3. Assets Are Flowing From Discretionary to Systematic

You don’t have to look too deeply to see this massive trend in strategy allocations playing out. WorldQuant LLC, with its growing team of over 600 employees, including more than 120 PhDs and 275 researchers, has been managing systematic investment strategies for Millennium Management since 2007. At Point72 (SAC) we’ve seen Cubist outpace the discretionary side of the firm by a wide margin with now over 40 systematic PMs. Balyasny has quickly shifted focus and is building a stable of systematic managers to effectively do something with their huge AUM growth. Other multi-manager platforms like Schonfeld, Paloma, AHL, Engineer’s Gate and GSA have added significant assets. Paul Tudor Jones is attempting to remake his firm by hiring a bunch of systematic managers, and others are following suit. And let’s not even get started with the continued dominance of firms like Renaissance, AQR and Two Sigma, where you probably can’t even give them your money if you tried.

I would say that the nerds are the new kings of Wall Street (Midtown), but frankly they (myself included) would cringe at that statement given their propensity to run in very different circles than the rest of the money manager crowd. This group is mostly made up of unassuming nerdy PhD types that you would probably take for accountants on the subway. They have serious mathematical and scientific training and have usually honed their craft on other data sets before coming to the financial world.

The fact of the matter is that there’s simply more efficacy to what these managers are doing than the vast majority of the discretionary trading world, and they’ve (mostly) put up the numbers to prove it. And I’m not just talking about returns, these groups are producing real alpha. Their strategies are meticulously backtested in and out of sample before going live, and are scaled up over time. Many discretionary managers launch a book with $500M in play from day one, I can count on one hand the number of systematic funds that have done that in the past 5 years.

And while some systematic funds don’t perform well, you’ll be hard pressed to find any massive blow ups akin to what’s regularly seen on the discretionary side. Pension funds can certainly deal with paying 2 and 20 if they have more confidence that their returns from year 1 through 3 aren’t going to all disappear in year

The flow of capital from discretionary to systematic strategies is going to continue, as it should. That will have its own repercussions, which we’re already starting to see.

4. Quants Dig For New Alpha

A 2012 tell-all book from a former Goldman Sachs trader revealed how the Great Vampire Squid often endearingly referred to their unsophisticated clients at “muppets.” While they rightfully got skewered for that comparison, they were certainly onto something when their trading desks would remark internally that they were basically taking candy from babies.

However, many of the muppets are gone now and that’s left far less alpha in the market to capture. Relative value and statistical arbitrage strategies are about capturing asset mispricings associated with the irrational behavioral aspects of fear and greed. This isn’t going to change any time soon, the muppets aren’t coming back, they’ve wised up. Less alpha overall will lead to a drop in the number of hedge funds and the amount of hedge fund assets that can generate enough alpha to command high fees.

It truly is amazing to watch a data set go from being an alpha to a beta over time. I’ve seen the sell side analyst estimates data set owned by Thomson Reuters IBES travel this path over the past 15 years. Yes, there will always be alpha available to be arbitraged which is associated with the irrational behavior of humans in markets, but most alpha generated by systematic traders is associated with an informational advantage.

About five years ago many of the classic stat-arb strategies stopped working due to an influx of competitors. There simply wasn’t enough alpha to go around. This precipitated the smartest firms to search for new data sets with predictive power, or reflexivity. Fast-forward a few years and an all out arms race is now under way.

I love to use the example of the company that is selling data captured from new car insurance registrations. They get this data daily, and it’s incredibly accurate at calling new car sales. So instead of waiting until the end of the quarter to find out how many vehicles GM sold, you can basically get a running count of growth on a daily basis. Obviously that’s going to give you an advantage in trading those auto names, that is until everyone else is using that data. At that point, the data set goes from providing alpha you can capture, to a data set that you must be looking at in order to avoid an informational disadvantage. In a sense, it becomes beta.

So the arms race is in full swing, and there is now a serious lack of qualified talent to analyze all of these different data sets and incorporate them into the existing multi-factor models. While the quantitative research process into the efficacy of a data set hasn’t changed much, firms are struggling to build a process around the testing pipeline. The most efficient firms like WorldQuant have been able to take advantage of that competency to move quickly and decisively to incorporate new alphas.

This brings me to my last point about the systematic testing process. In the next section of this article, I’m going to heavily malign the discretionary buy side for being fairly clueless about how to undertake this entire process. The truth is, even most (but not all) systematic quants suffer from a severe lack of creativity and original thought when it comes to generating hypotheses around how to take advantage of a given data set. From our experience working with discretionary firms at Estimize, they are two steps even further behind the quants as it relates to incorporating new data sets.

Let’s just go back to the car sales example for a second. Would you know exactly how to take advantage of that data to run an event study and generate alpha? Probably not. You’d likely want to talk with someone who’s been trading autos for 10+ years to get their take on what they think moves auto stocks and how having a good projection of sales would impact those names. A good quantitative research process requires an ex-ante hypothesis for some level of causation and not just correlation. We need to know roughly why something works, not just that it works, or else we won’t know why it stops working, and as history has proven, everything stops working at some point.

Being able to hand over an easily testable clean data set, and a bunch of original thoughts about how to generate alpha is imperative for data firms to succeed at this process.

5. Quantamental, Systamental, Factor Aware…Call It What You Want

The rise of the systematic quants and their use of these new data sets also had an impact on the poor returns of the discretionary world over recent years. First, the HFT guys killed the day traders making it impossible to pick up pennies. Next, the stat-arb guys crushed the swing traders playing in the couple of hours to one week timeframe. Were they the primary factor of poor discretionary returns? Probably not, but significant none of the less.

A few years ago the first big discretionary firms started making attempts to hire data scientists and acquire new data sources. They’ve mostly failed to integrate any of this into an actual investment process. Then about 6-9 months ago another chunk of the more forward thinking discretionary firms gave in to the realization that they needed to make big changes. It’s not as if discretionary PMs weren’t using data driven statistical approaches to gain an edge, or that none of them had quants on the desk to help, they were just very few and far between.

You may have seen Paul Tudor Jones almost publicly berating his organization in a strange showing of frustration from such a legendary investor. Steve Cohen has been very public about his attempt to shift Point72 in the data driven direction, even commenting that it’s incredibly hard to find good talent these days (we’ll get to this in a minute). The guys who have been successful in this game historically see the writing on the wall. Hell, even the first episode of season two for the show Billions features main character Bobby “Axe” Axelrod giving his team the condensed 3 minute version of this piece, albeit in a much louder tone. So whomever the producers of that show are talking to, this whole thing has seeped into the mainstream buy-side consciousness now.

The shift that needs to happen is similar to the way players were drafted in Michael Lewis’ book, “Moneyball”. Consider how hard the scouts fought against being replaced by algorithms that were far more accurate than they were, and even in the face of all this evidence, refusing to change. Then consider how much money was on the line in baseball, and the astronomically larger amount on the line in our world. You would think that would precipitate a much quicker shift, but in fact, it will only mean a slower one due to the fear of change when dealing with so much money.

As quants, we are taught how to go through the research process to validate the efficacy of a data set or tool. Everything is derived from this process, and there isn’t too much leeway, it is designed as good science. Yes, as mentioned above, you still need a level of creativity in order to do good research. However, discretionary managers don’t even have the framework for understanding how to do that research, or incorporate new things into their decision making process. This is the largest hurdle to making the shift, and I believe less than 20% of managers will clear it.

This shift isn’t just about using new data sets, like Estimize, or the car sales example, it’s about fundamentally buying into the notion that PMs need to be making investment decisions based on putting the odds in their favor by looking at statistics, and not just being gunslingers or bottoms up value guys. That’s an affront to their entire way of doing things, just as it was for the baseball scouts.

6. Algorithms + Human Experience = Optimal Trading

A passage from Michael Lewis’ latest book, “The Undoing Project,” speaks so directly to the issue discretionary firms face today. Lewis writes about a specific behavioral experiment performed on a set of first year residents and accomplished oncologists. In the experiment, the scientists asked the accomplished doctors to tell them how they make a decision regarding whether a patient has cancer from looking at an x-ray. The doctors all tended to give the scientists a 10 point checklist with a 1-10 rating for each of the 10 points, add up the points and you can accurately determine whether it’s cancer or benign. The scientists proceed to give a set of x-rays (the outcomes of which are known only to them) to the doctors and the residents, asking them to determine whether each is cancer or not. They also give the doctor’s checklist to the residents to use.

I think you can guess what happens next. The oncologists who supplied the rubric in the first place show almost zero ability above random to accurately determine whether the x-ray was cancer or not. They didn’t follow their own rubric, suffered from an astounding amount of representative heuristic, and failed to do their job well. Meanwhile, the first year residents were able to score far higher accuracy rates on average and therefore would have been able to help their patients. They were simply acting as the human measurement component of an algorithm.

Similarly, most discretionary PMs would likely supply a rubric for how they make decisions, but when it comes down to it, they don’t actually adhere to it. No set of new data or analytical tools thrown into the “mosaic of information” that the PM is supposed to be paying attention to will matter unless they are disciplined enough to remove their ego from the equation and reduce themselves to being a human algorithm.

There’s an inevitable question that arises from the above, what’s the point of the human PM if we’re going to ask humans to basically be algorithms? Why not just run a fully systematic strategy and remove the human all together after the quantitative research process is complete? Could a first year analyst and some good portfolio construction software more faithfully execute the signals than a PM with 20 years of experience? Science would seem to say yes. That said, there’s obviously a more optimal scenario where that 20 years of experience alongside the discipline to execute the rubric faithfully results in better outcomes due to the ability to see regime changes in the market, something quantitative strategies built on linear analysis have a hard time doing.

It’s my belief that good quantamental / systamental / factor-aware PMs can crush the systematic quants if they are disciplined. Systematic strategies are designed to make small bets across a lot of names using half a dozen or more different signals that each have a weighting in the stock selection and exposure model. A lot of them hit for singles, consistently. But that also means that when a really fat pitch comes down the plate based on all the data, they can’t swing for the fences. This is the advantage of discretionary managers. With the right discipline, they can take a big cut with a 7% position in their book when all the data lines up, and reap the rewards of the hard work.

While it’s been a tough run of it recently, there are reasons to believe this is a great time to enter the market with a solid quantitative approach to discretionary trading. The chart below shows that while there may be many secular headwinds for the discretionary investing world, the cyclical nature of this industry is extremely strong, and we’re certainly at the deepest part of the trough regarding performance, with only one direction to go.

7. There’s Plenty of Talent, You’re Just Hiring the Wrong People

The last part of this puzzle is obviously the people. And here’s the sad truth: the way that discretionary hedge funds have staffed themselves historically is almost criminal (there were actually some real criminals in there too!).

Picture the normal funnel to becoming a PM running a $500M long/short equity book. You grew up in a wealthy family in a wealthy town, usually in the New York metropolitan area, parts of Silicon Valley, Chicago or Michigan. You went to Harvard, Yale or Princeton. You took an IB analyst position at Goldman or another bulge bracket. You spent a few years there learning how to build a financial model before a hedge fund picked you up for an analyst spot. You made friends with your PM, who if you were lucky did well, and 5 years later when the firm had more capital than it knew what to do with, your PM told the firm to give you $200M to play with.

At no point in this process did you ever have to exhibit a lick of skill for the job that you’ve just been given. Yes, you are probably a very smart individual, and you worked hard, but we all know that smart does not equal good in the investment world. Every step along the way you were selected not for the trait which would make you the best qualified to do that job, you were selected because you jumped through the hoops which lead to the correct selection bias. The sad truth is that hedge funds are run by white dudes who grew up in Greenwich, and they like (and trust) working with white dudes who grew up in Greenwich and look like them.

And look, this isn’t some idealistic push for equality bullshit comment, it’s about results. If you are hiring these people exclusively, you are not selecting for skill and you will not be able to make the shift to a more data driven quantitative approach, I guarantee it. If I were starting a fund from scratch, I’d rather have a more racially, socioeconomically diverse group of kids from schools other than the Ivy’s than those from Yale who studied political science.

And don’t get me started on the lack of women running money. Every single study ever done says that they are more successful than men due to a range of behavioral and psychological factors. Yet firms tend to overlook women for PM positions due to their inability to play the game that gets them the capital allocation. And of course, we come back to the fact that the entire industry is designed to hire for people that look like the people who are currently in charge.

Firms need to start incorporating measurement of variables pre hiring that actually correlate to success as a PM. They need to start selecting for skill, not just smarts. Our Forcerank platform is beginning to be used for this purpose, and I expect others will pop up over time. I also expect some kind of psychometric testing firm to be created soon which has done the research to identify certain skills and traits that correspond to success in different strategies. You don’t want the same kind of people running momentum models as the ones running deep value.

There isn’t a lack of talent, you just need to look in the right places and be willing to elevate people who might not look, talk, or act like you.

8. Building the Right Team

The other major personnel issue we’re seeing firms grapple with is the question of how to structure their teams to incorporate the quantitative research and data science capability. Some approaches have been successful, and others have failed.

Each firm, whether quant or discretionary, is going to need a centralized infrastructure that is capable of imbibing a new data set and making it available across the firm. Many systematic multi-manager funds, and large centralized managers are already setting up data teams to search for, ingest, clean, and quickly analyze new data sets to test for alpha in their multi-factor models. The heads of these teams are getting paid big dollars, upwards of $2M a year to run this process that feeds the heart of the machine - and there aren’t many good ones out there. The imbalance of supply and demand for this position is causing some funds to make poor hiring decisions in order to simply get someone in the door. The role itself is incredibly multidisciplinary in nature and requires a strong understanding of the quantitative research process, a decent technical background, the ability to travel across the globe to conferences meeting with hundreds of potential vendors, sniffing out what’s real from what’s bullshit, determining what startups will be around tomorrow and which won’t, and then haggling over price. Please tell me which previous role prepares you for all of that?

The firms that don’t hire well here are going to fall behind and see their returns suffer as data sets more quickly than ever move from being alphas to betas as they get arbed. This doesn’t happen overnight, it takes years for alpha to get arbitraged from a data set, but many won’t have as much capacity as those previously, along with a larger stable of systematic managers, things will speed up.

The centralized infrastructure and data acquisition team is going to also house engineers, a product manager, and optimally a quant who can do basic descriptive work on a data set to determine whether it’s clean and reliable enough to have PMs use.

And that’s where the centralized team should end.

Each PM or “pod” should then have a quant, an engineer or two, and a data analyst placed on their desk directly. Here’s why. Each PM is going to be trading different names, and have a need to access different sets of information. Fighting over centralized quantitative research capacity with other pods is a disaster. And then receiving some kind of report that doesn’t fit into your actual process is useless. Each PM is going to have a different checklist or rubric with different signals. And the key is the data analyst, they need to have a deep understanding of the industries the PM is trading so that they can work in coordination with the PM and the quant to build a process that can be effectively utilized. I’ve seen people in this role who also have some coding experience so that they can rapidly prototype stuff for the quant before the centralized team goes out and does the job in a production-ready way. The quant, of course, will be testing different data sets for efficacy, and handing them over to the engineers to build factor models.

A quantitative approach and a commitment to data science by firms is not a thing you do in some other room. The only way this is going to work is if you build cross functional teams on the PM’s desk and support them with a data and infrastructure team at the top.

How Far Down the Rabbit Hole?

So if you’re a PM, do you need to take that data science class at night? Yes, but not for the reason you think. PMs aren’t going to be writing python code and working in R to do quantitative research, that’s not their job. But in order to effectively communicate and run their teams they are going to have to understand all the pieces to the process. And most of all, if they aren’t educated as to how all of this works, how are they ever going to trust the data and signals coming out of the process when the time comes to make buy and sell decisions?

On June 20th the L2Q conference hosted by Estimize is going to give discretionary PMs, analysts, and traders a one day overview of the different pieces they need to get up to speed on in order to effectively build and run their teams. The goal of the conference is not to have everyone walking away knowing everything, it’s meant as a jumping off point, to give a sense of perspective for where managers need to go next, and we’ll have the vendors there that can help them take the next steps to getting educated. We’ll also have a number of heavily vetted data vendors which can fit into this process and add alpha generating signals, including our own Estimize and Forcerank data sets.

Hope to see you there!And if you are interested in discovering more alpha using the Estimize data set, please contact us today!

#quant #quantitative #buyside #discretionary #hedgefunds

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florrickandassociates · 7 years

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TGF Thoughts: 1x03-- The Schtup List

I got my recap done early this week, and as I was writing I started to wonder about something. I’ve gotten a bunch of new followers in the last week or so (Hi! Thanks for following!) and I’m not sure if y’all were TGW fans or if you’re new to the franchise. And I’m really curious about that, so, even if you’re not following me or reading my recap beyond this intro paragraph, I’d love messages (anon is fine!) about why you’re watching TGF and how much, if any, of TGW you’ve seen.

Anyway. Recap is under the cut!

My favorite thing about the TGF credits is that I don’t have to watch them. Let me explain: for years, I read press releases for every TGW episode, and so I always knew which guest star would pop up when. But CBS isn’t releasing press releases for TGF, so the only way to know who’s going to show up in an episode is to read the credits. On TGW, the credits played over the show, so they were impossible to avoid even if you didn’t already know who would be guest starring. But on TGF, if I just don’t look at the credit sequence until I rewatch the episode, I can actually be surprised when guest stars show up!

In a classic TGW move, we pick up right where we left off: Maia’s parents’ house. It’s awkward. Jax asks Maia how she is like nothing’s wrong. After a pause, Maia says she’s “good” a little too loudly. “Very good,” she adds.

She stares at her mom incredulously. “Glad things are going so well for you, mom,” she snarks as she makes her exit. Lenore follows, protesting that Maia’s misinterpreting what she saw. “My dad is in jail for something he didn’t do, and you’re fucking the man who put him there?” Maia accuses. Woah, harsh, but accurate. I get the sense Maia doesn’t use that word around her mom often, especially not in this sort of context. Also, on TGW she totally would’ve said “banging.”

“Don’t you use that language with me,” Lenore scolds (see! This is why we need All Access! Because the fact that Maia can use the f-word, then be reprimanded by her mother for using inappropriate language, conveys a lot about their dynamic, and you couldn’t do that with “banging.” Maia uses that word on purpose because it’s harsh and crude; she’s angry. Lenore reacts like the parent of a teenager, not the parent of an adult; it’s clear she’s still thinking of Maia as a child and clear she’s the type of person that finds such language inappropriate.)

Maia can’t believe Lenore is policing her language instead of talking about the fact that she is screwing her brother-in-law. Lenore claims it’s to help Henry. Basically, she’s claiming she’s sleeping with Jax to manipulate him or get information. Maia can’t believe that, either.

“You’re telling me you’re doing this for dad?” she sneers. “Okay. Good to know.” Lenore asks Maia not to tell Henry.

I don’t know who to trust here, but I feel bad for Maia.

Once she’s back inside her car, Maia takes a minute to process what she’s seen: “Oh, my God.”

And then, abruptly, we’re in a hospital in Syria watching a surgery. The surgeons are being assisted by an American doctor at Chicago’s Harbor Hospital (I believe that’s the same fictional hospital from TGW’s 1x12, among other episodes).

Barbara gives a rundown of the firm’s finances at a partner meeting. Among other things, she mentions they’re still waiting for a capital contribution from a partner—Diane is still trying to get her money together. Assuming Diane follows through, there’s 8.5 million in profit to be split among the partners. Except for that a big client hasn’t paid their retainer. They’re down 12 million without that retainer. Holy shit, that’s a big client. This means all the equity partners are on the hook for $300,000 more this year. That has to mean they have 11-12 partners and the firm is taking a loss of 3.5 million without the retainer? Oh my God, why do I always end up caring about these things?

Adrian isn’t worried about the retainer. Diane, on the other hand, is very worried about having the $300,000 she already owed doubled.

Marissa is answering Diane’s phone when a man walks over to her desk. She asks the caller if she “can” take a message, and when she hangs up, the man corrects her: it’s “may I.” “Thanks. May I help you?” Marissa replies. Turns out this man is the investigator, and he’s upset that Marissa found the names for the class action without him. This makes me wonder why Lucca and Maia and Diane didn’t ask the investigator to, since they didn’t know Marissa was looking and needed it in a hurry.

Anyway, the investigator, whose name is Jay, I think, though he hasn’t introduced himself yet, doesn’t want Marissa to keep doing his job for him.

Marissa interrupts the partners’ meeting to tell Diane there’s a doctor on the line for her. He was arrested for terrorism.

Maia meets with her lawyer, Yesha. Maia wants to see her father, but Yesha thinks that’s not wise. “I need to warn him. I think he’s being set up,” Maia explains.

Yesha reluctantly says it’s okay, but she’s going to be there, too. Maia thinks that’s not necessary, but Yesha sees what she can’t: “There will be a moment when you tell a client, ‘for your own good, you have to do what I say.’ This is one of those moments for you.” That’s an excellent way of putting it. Yesha needs to be there so everything’s subject to attorney-client privilege.

Diane finds her doctor client in holding. He explains why he was conducting surgery remotely. Lucca pops up out of nowhere and inserts herself right into the conversation. Diane isn’t pleased, and calls Barbara to ask why she sent Lucca.

A head’s up text would’ve been nice. But…

Barbara sends Lucca because she “has experience in federal court.” To which Diane replies, “Barbara, I was a name partner at the town’s biggest firm.” And that’s exactly Barbara’s point. “Yes, and I’m a name partner at this firm,” Barbara says. “I’m not questioning that,” Diane responds. But you are, aren’t you? You’re on the phone with Barbara when you could be coordinating strategy with Lucca. I get where Diane’s coming from, since Barbara blindsided her with this and sometimes you really do just need one voice to get your point across. But does this really require a phone call from the courtroom?

“Did you sometimes overrule the judgement of junior partners?” Barbara asks.

In fact, she did!!!!! Does anyone else remember the plot in 7x14 (a good TGW ep that’s possibly also the most forgettable episode they’ve ever done) where Diane tried to get Lucca off a case (so Lucca could work on something tedious and unimportant) to prove a point to Alicia about who had the power? And how Diane said she feared Alicia’s “independence and resistance to oversight” upon coming back to the firm as a junior partner? I sided with Diane on that one, because she needed to set a precedent for the working relationship going forward. So I’m going to side with Barbara on this one, for exactly the same reason. (And, if you really want to look into hierarchy: these are both instances where Lucca has to do what she’s asked to do in order to prove a point to someone more senior.)

“So this is a lesson in humility?” Diane wonders. Only partially. Barbara has other reasons, too: the top AUSA, Colin Morello, is on the other side, so it’s a good idea to have two people on the defense.

“Why are you really doing that?” Adrian asks Barbara. “What do you mean? I want them to work together,” Barbara says. “No, Barbara, it’s a power play. I know that sound in your voice when you’ve got some kind of hidden agenda,” Adrian says. Barbara does seem to share her opinions via subtext, which is a character trait that I bet will annoy Diane. It’s not that Diane is always 100% upfront and clear about her intentions (I could write an essay on how she’s not), but Diane’s style does tend to involve coming across as upfront, and I think she responds best to others who are upfront. Or, rather, to others who seem like they’re upfront.

Barbara explains yet another reason to put Lucca on that case: Lucca needs to feel needed. She’s a good employee and Barbara knows Lucca won’t stay put if she feels undervalued. That’s a very smart insight into Lucca, whose confidence never seems to waver, and who would totally quit a job she wasn’t satisfied with. Lucca used to work in bond court and never loved the idea of a big law firm, anyway. She’ll bolt if she’s not respected… and she already lost her office to Diane.

And I don’t even think Barbara knows that Lucca’s the one who destroyed* Diane’s marriage in court!

*made the destruction public; Lucca didn’t make Kurt fuck Holly.

“That’s the thing about power. You got to take it from somebody to give it to somebody else,” Adrian says. “Thank you, Sun Tzu,” Barbara replies, unimpressed. Is it really that bad of an idea for Barbara to make a power play now? What happens to her firm down the line if she doesn’t set the tone now? Diane’s already brought over two more white people without recognizing her own biases… and last week, Diane hired Marissa right after a conversation with Barbara about racial hiring. Barbara built a firm with her own ideas for its culture and purpose and place in the landscape; Diane’s (unchecked) presence is a threat to all of Barbara’s hard work (and to the people that are helped by the firm she helped to build).

“Barbara. Be nice to Diane. Don’t rule it over her like that, huh?” Adrian warns patronizingly. Why? Why should Barbara be “nice” to Diane? Barbara didn’t know Diane was being asked to join, and her name’s on the letterhead! And Barbara is not being mean to Diane or hazing her or anything like that or even continuously doing this. She is setting a tone.

I swear, if Adrian had said “are you jealous?” which, tbh, feels like the natural extension of his tone/line there, I would be ranting in all caps right now. I mean, how dare Barbara feel threatened by her partner making decisions without her and then telling her she just needs to be nice?

“Do I question your leadership?” Barbara responds. “All the time,” Adrian says. They both laugh. “Okay. I’ll behave,” Barbara promises.

(I don’t mean to say Barbara’s fully in the right here, because I think she could’ve made her point without having Lucca surprise Diane in court. A simple, “Diane, I want Lucca on this with you,” would’ve made the same point.)

Court stuff happens. Diane and Lucca both respond at the same time to something Colin Morello, our only white male series regular (whom @fle has thus named “Token”) says. Guys, work together.

This case is really interesting, but I’m not spending my time recapping it. (I really don’t know how many new readers I have for these things, but I usually like to ignore the cases and focus on the characters. Sometimes, a case will set me off—usually if they make an argument that doesn’t make sense or if they touch on a subject I know enough about to have opinions on—and I’ll talk about it, but mostly, I’ll just say, “Case stuff happens.”

Adrian and Barbara are trying to get the missing $12 million, and so they meet with the client at their new executive dining room. Obviously, the problem isn’t that they’re lacking in money. The client is a little evasive. The board might want to go a different direction, now that there’s a new administration. They might be going with a different minority owned business now.

The client knows that elevators are awkward and doesn’t get in with Barbara and Adrian. (Okay, no, the real reason he doesn’t get in is that he has another lunch meeting.)

“It’s what I said against Trump. I spoke at a rally,” Barbara determines. (Yay, Barbara!) Adrian thinks that’s not it, then gets an idea. He goes back up to the dining room, and sure enough, there’s the client, meeting with the head of another minority-owned law firm.

According to Investigator Jay, the other law firm is small, just 12 lawyers, and it’s moved from D.C. Its founder ran a Trump PAC.

“Wow. So we’re going bankrupt because we didn’t pander to Trump,” Adrian realizes. I wonder if this is actually playing out anywhere.

Case stuff happens. The scene where the doctor is surrounded by men in suits and taken into custody looks like something that could’ve happened on BrainDead. Space bugs!

Even though we already know that Yesha’s going to be with Maia when she visits her father, director Marta Cunningham cleverly underlines how intrusive the presence of lawyers is in this personal moment. First, we see only Maia. Then we see Henry, who looks uncomfortable. It’s only then we get a medium-long shot of the room, establishing that Yesha’s sitting right next to Maia.

And the trick works again. Henry responds to Maia, then Maia’s the one looking uncomfortable, and then we’re clued in to what the characters already know: Henry also brought his lawyer.

This makes conversation impossible, but Henry does manage to mention that Lenore stopped by earlier that morning. That worries Maia, and she wants more information. But Lenore didn’t share anything unexpected.

Maia weighs how to proceed. “Do you really think that mom is helping you?” Maia asks. “Helping me with…?” Henry responds. “Well, is she staying by you, or, you know, is she standing by… Jax?” Maia rephrases. Henry doesn’t understand why that would be the case. She’s trying to convey that there’s reason to be suspicious, and everyone in the room picks up on it.

“We should end this,” Henry says. Maia doesn’t understand, but then she gets it: Her dad hugs her, and before the lawyers can stop him, he whispers some information to Maia.

Maia refuses to pass the information on to Yesha—and she doesn’t even hide that there’s information. Yesha reminds her that there’s no child-parent privilege. But Maia’s made her mind up anyway.

RBK needs to look less liberal, which means they need a Trump voter. But, LOL, they’re having trouble finding one.

Case stuff happens. Diane wants to take the lead, but Lucca thinks she’s in a better position to argue against Colin. Diane notices Lucca’s effect on Colin, and says Lucca can go first. Hey, team work! (I would’ve loved a little more from Diane in this episode, specifically more about Diane’s working relationship with Lucca. Is there any bad blood between them after 7x22? Or does Diane mostly fault Alicia for that?)

Diane calls Marissa and asks her to find a witness from the Medical Licensing Board. Marissa starts to ask questions to clarify, but decides to just do it herself. Is it bad that my first thought upon watching this scene was, “I bet if Diane had hired one of the candidates Barbara found, they’d know how to take care of this request”? (Marissa can and will learn, of course.)

Because it’s urgent, Marissa rushes to find someone else to help. Maia notices her rushing around and asks her what she needs. Marissa needs Jay; Maia doesn’t know who he is. “He’s about this tall, black,” Marissa describes. “That’s not very helpful, is it?” she realizes. No, it’s not, and also, you couldn’t describe his fashion or his hair style?

Marissa volunteers to help Maia whenever Diane’s out. “What are you doing at 4?” Maia asks.

Marissa barges into a meeting to find Jay. She says she was needed to do something investigative, and Jay asked her to let him know if that happened. This doesn’t sound like an investigative task to me, since Diane would’ve, you know, asked an investigator to do this if it were, but Marissa’s new and Jay can help, so, sure.

RBK has 80 lawyers and 50 staff, if you were curious, which I definitely was. None of them voted for Trump. Or, as Barbara points out, none of them were willing to admit it. Wouldn’t surprise me if it really were the former. But it’s not. See, Julius Cain voted Trump. “Seriously?” Barbara can’t believe it. But she’s more focused on the goal than surprised by this revelation, and says Julius will pitch for them. Julius worries about being ostracized and isolated. Well, I mean, do unto others as you would have others do unto you, right? And we know who you voted for and the policies he supports. (Normally I’d say people shouldn’t be looked at differently because of their political beliefs. This past election has me reconsidering that, especially since I know Julius isn’t ignorant or misinformed.)

“Kanye voted for Trump,” Barbara tries to comfort Julius. “No, he didn’t. He said he would have if he did vote,” Julius feels the need to clarify. Barbara promises only she and Adrian will know. But that doesn’t feel true.

“Really? Did he say why?” Adrian asks when he hears the news. “Conservative politics,” Barbara explains. I’ve seen some people say this episode doesn’t do enough to explain why Julius would’ve made that choice, and while I agree the episode could’ve gone a lot deeper, I’m also amused by everyone’s reactions. I imagine Julius was one of those people who assumed we’d just get a conservative administration that functioned like most other conservative administrations. How’d that work out?

Adrian makes the same comment about Kanye. Heh.

Barbara and Adrian both realize that Julius will be ostracized because of this no matter what.

Lucca’s in a hurry—too much of a hurry to get a burger. Luckily for her, Colin is already eating a burger and offers her half. She has to take it because they don’t have much time.

Colin taunts her about the case. A blonde lawyer wearing way more makeup than characters on this show usually wear in court walks past and whispers in Colin’s ear. Lucca teases him about it, and about his general “cute little metrosexual thing; the ‘oh my god the law is just something I stumbled into,’ shit-eating grin” thing.

Lucca doesn’t eat half of her half of the burger, but she takes a few of Colin’s fries and leaves.

Court stuff happens. Marissa arrives with a witness. Diane thanks her, and Marissa tries to explain that Jay found her. Diane doesn’t have time to listen. “Okay,” Marissa says to herself. I hope that means she’ll mention it again later, especially if Diane tries to praise her again.

There are lots of images of clocks in this episode to underline the time constraint. Thanks for reminding me I can’t read analog clocks as quickly as I should be able to, show!

Maia goes to visit Jax. They make a bit of small talk before Maia says she’s looking for answers. “How’s that not the truth?” Maia says when Jax recaps Henry’s “lies.” “You know the truth, Maia. You watched your parents all those years,” Jax tells her. He explains that Henry got lucky and didn’t want to be seen as anything other than incredible, so he got a scheme going. I don’t know who to believe, but so far, Jax definitely seems like the least trustworthy person here. He’s so eager to tell his version of events, and he’s sleeping with his brother’s wife while his brother is in prison.

“Why are you sleeping with my mom?” Maia asks when Jax finishes recounting his version of events. Jax denies it, so Maia spits, “Fuck you.” Heh.

Then the phone rings. Maia tells Jax to answer it—she’s not going anywhere. He falls right into her trap, and she rushes to his computer (which Henry gave her the password for) while he takes the call. The call is from Marissa—that’s what Maia needed at 4:00—and it’s not about anything important. Marissa uses the word “regarding” a ton of times in a few sentences, then gets Jax to write down an “important” message.

Meanwhile, Maia finds what she’s looking for: Jax’s “Schtup List.” So, question: if Henry knows Jax’s password and what’s on Jax’s computer, how can we be sure that Henry didn’t put this on Jax’s computer to frame him?

Now Jay has to go to Marissa, because the family of the patient in the COTW won’t talk to him but they will talk to a white girl.

Jax finally hangs up, but Maia’s done before he notices. She leaves abruptly.

While Maia’s plan to distract Jax was smart, I’m not so sure the whole digging-around-on-Jax’s-computer thing was a good move. I know it’s family, but at what point will she doubt her father? She could’ve just put herself in a very bad situation. I don’t know if I should admire her commitment to her family or worry that she’s setting herself up for a legal disaster. Possibly both.

Adrian still can’t believe Julius voted for Trump. I sort of can. At least, I can believe that of all of the characters on the show in this episode, excluding the client and the rival firm owner, Julius is the most likely to have voted for him.

Case stuff happens and Marissa helps out.

Case stuff happens in court.

Get some digital clocks, show, dammit!

Diane and Lucca sort of win in court. They sort of shake hands, sort of hold hands; it’s sweet. I just wish there’d been a little more time to look at their dynamic. The tension faded so quickly the resolution feels… not undeserved, because I don’t want to overstate how much tension there was, but perhaps underdeveloped.

The partners applaud Julius for getting their twelve million back. He’s happy, but then he goes back to his office and finds the rival firm’s leader, Andrew Hart. Hart reminds him that from now on, no one will want to talk to Julius at RBK. He drops off his card, just in case. Gah, we’re not already doing partnership musical chairs, are we?! Not even three full episodes of peace?!

Lucca meets Colin for drinks. He tells her she did a good job and they flirt. Lucca says he’s not her type, so she’ll pick someone out for him. That’s not flirty at all, nope.

Colin takes a call, and Lucca notices the TV in the bar showing a news story about Syria. Turns out she didn’t win. The patient died anyway, along with those in the operating room with him, because the government was trying to lure the patient’s brother, a known terrorist, to a location they could easily attack. Damn. Colin didn’t know it was a set-up, either.

(Note that TGF’s win/loss record is currently 2-1, but both wins are complicated. The first episode is a loss for Diane and Maia, but it becomes a win because they switch sides. The second episode is just a loss. The third is a win that’s really a loss. I’ve tried to track win/loss records for TGW before, and it always ends up looking like this. I believe TGW’s first three episodes are: win, loss but there’s justice for the victim (it just doesn’t help the firm), favorable plea.

Maia takes the schtup list to her dad, no lawyers present. “What is it?” Maia asks. WAIT, you took your dad, who is in prison, information you downloaded off of someone else’s computer, and took it to him without knowing what it was or asking more questions before you handed it over?!

Maia only finds out once the information’s in her father’s hands that it might also implicate her mom. That’s fun!

I’m curious to know how these early decisions of Maia’s will play out. I hope I’m just being cynical and she’s right to trust her father. (Though I fear that right now, she’s trusting her father more than she usually would out of anger over what she witnessed her mom and Jax doing!) And I hope that, if that’s the case, no one else uses this against her. Maia’s obviously in the dark about the actual scheme, but if she keeps doing stuff like this, someone could very easily paint a picture that makes her look guilty.

Maybe next week we’ll get more Diane and more of Maia’s personal life? I’d really love to see more about who Maia is when she’s not caught up in the conspiracy drama.

#The Good Fight #TGFThoughts #TGWThoughts

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