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hyuniepot · 3 years

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the butterfly effect. || chapter one

chapter word count || 3,214

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

a/n || reposting this chapter because tumblr made it glitch out for some reason ;-; praying everything works out this time!! as always, send me a message or an ask to be added to the taglist.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

Yes, the thought of it is silly, but you were. You didn’t like bugs at all, the pretty ones included. The thought of them crawling on your skin made you ill. But there was one thing you loved, and that was your friend, Mark. And unlike you, Mark loved butterflies. So when he asked you to go to a butterfly exhibit with him, you sucked it up and said yes.

And you realized that day that butterflies were beautiful. They were harmless, and you giggled as they landed on you, excitedly showing Mark as you conquered your fear of them. Mark helped you conquer a lot of your fears.

And ever since he left, you felt more fearful than ever. Losing him made you realize how fragile life really was, and you hated it. You hated feeling like everything was on the verge of being lost.

“You good?” you jump at the sound of Jaemin’s voice in your ear. You blink, realizing you had completely zoned out. You were sitting next to him on the bus to school. You quickly glance out the window once more. The butterfly you had been admiring was gone.

You nod. “I’m okay. Just tired.” you respond.

Jaemin grins and grabs onto your hand. “Okay. Just checking in.” he says softly. “Um, we’re all gonna get food after school if you wanna come. It’s just a really nice day, it’d be a shame not to go out in it, you know?”

Truth be told, you had been feeling weird lately, and going out with your friends (or, to be more accurate — your boyfriend and his friends that you were friends with by association) was probably what you needed. “That sounds nice.”

The bus had arrived at school. Jaemin stands and picks up his bag, letting you out in front of him. You exit the bus and you’re met with the warm air enveloping you, the sun hitting your eyes and making you squint. Jaemin exits the bus as well, his frame blocking the sun from blinding you. He puts his arm around you, and you grab onto his hand out of instinct.

“Hey guys, got room for more?” you feel another arm around your shoulder.

“Hyuck, no. You’re gross.” Jaemin groans, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gasps dramatically. “That’s mean. You didn’t even consult with your girlfriend first.”

You smile. “Sorry, Hyuck. But I’m only interested in Jaemin.” you tell him.

Hyuck removes his arm from your shoulder and crosses his arms. “What a low blow…” he mutters. Hyuck was your childhood friend. He grew up with you and Mark. He was like a happy virus, and you weren’t sure if you would have survived losing Mark if he hadn’t been there for you.

You giggle. “Sorry to break your heart.”

“You’d think after months of being rejected he’d give up, but he’s a trooper.” Jaemin adds.

Hyuck rolls his eyes this time. “It’s only because you guys are gross and kissy-kissy in public. We’re in school,” he says, moving away from his spot next to you. He puts himself in between you and Jaemin. “Leave room for Jesus.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” you laugh. “You are so annoying. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” you tell him.

Hyuck grins and sticks out his tongue, turning down a hallway as you guys pass it. “You’re damn right you’re lucky,” he calls. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jaemin shakes his head, laughing. “He’s such a weirdo. Love him, though.”

You reach your locker and lean against it. “He is. You learn how to deal with him after so long. I’ll meet you outside the entrance doors after school. Do you guys know where you’re going to eat?”

Jaemin leans up against the locker next to yours. “Nah, not yet. We’ll figure it out before the day ends.” he tells you. “You have a good day, alright?” he pecks your cheek.

You smile. “I will.” Jaemin gives you one last grin before turning and continuing down the hallway.

[12:39 p.m.]

“What kind of weird shit do you read at night?” Naeun asks, scowling at Jiwoo.

“It’s not weird!” Jiwoo cries, turning her phone screen towards the dark-haired girl. “There’s real proof!”

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, taking a seat next to Naeun.

“Apparently there’s an app that can change your fate,” Sungyeon speaks up, holding back a laugh. “Jiwoo found it.”

Jiwoo turns her attention towards you. “See! You’ll believe me, right?” she turns her phone to you.

You furrow your brows and decide not to answer her question. You read the article she had pulled up.

According to the 13-year-old who downloaded the app, ButterFly, his wish came true a mere 3 hours after sending it into the ButterFly HQ. The young boy wished for his cat to come back to life, who had been dead for nearly a month. A few hours later, a cat showed up at the boy’s window. It was identical to the one the boy had.

ButterFly, a self-proclaimed life changing app has been growing in popularity as people hope to change their past. But the real question is, does this app really change a life or is it simply coincidence?

“Jiwoo…” you say softly.

“Come on,” she whines. “I can’t be the only one who thinks it could actually be real!”

“I’m afraid you are.” Sungyeon tells her, taking a bite of her food. “It’s just a coincidence. The only success story they have is something so… normal.”

“If they want to impress me, they have to come up with something way more exciting than a kid finding his cat.” Naeun says.

Jiwoo pouts, turning off her phone. “But… it’d just be so cool if it was real.”

“I agree, but an app should never be trusted for something like that. Plus, if an app had the powers to change the trajectory of someone’s life, wouldn’t the butterfly effect happen?” you asked.

“She’s right,” Naeun says. “Fate is not something to play around with.”

Dejected, Jiwoo surrenders and turns her attention back to finishing her lunch.

“What is that again?” Sungyeon asks. “The butterfly effect?”

“The idea that even tiny changes can make huge and unexpected changes,” you explain. “Like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a typhoon.”

“Hmm,” Sungyeon hums. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, like if Jiwoo was born as a boy, maybe she’d be dating you and you’d be a millionaire for some reason.” Naeun takes a drink from her water bottle.

“What?” Sungyeon cringes.

“Hey, what’s that face for?” Jiwoo cries. “I think I’d be a cute boy.”

You laugh and shake your head as your friends continue to playfully banter about who would be the cutest boy in a parallel universe.

[3:30 p.m.]

You stand by the entrance doors, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try not to look too awkward as you wait for Jaemin and his friends. You wave to Naeun as she leaves, and are relieved when Jaemin appears a few moments later. He immediately spots you and makes his way to you, smiling. His friends, Jeno and Renjun walk behind him with Hyuck, loudly talking about something.

“Hi,” Jaemin says. “Did you have a good day?”

You grin. “It was fine. How about you?” you start walking away from school, taking hold of his hand.

“It was good. I have some annoying homework, but…” he trails off.

Renjun suddenly runs past you, turning around with a disgusted look on his face. “Hyuck, for the last time, I will not hold your hand!”

You turn your head to see a pouty Hyuck. “I just wanted to fit in!”

You laugh and roll your eyes, turning your head back towards the sidewalk in front of you. You all make your way to a nearby restaurant. You sat next to Jaemin in a booth and Jeno, Renjun, and Hyuck all squeezed into the one across from you. You all ordered drinks.

“Oh, Jaemin,” Jeno says, picking his bag up from the floor. He pulls out a notebook and hands it to Jaemin. “Thanks for your notes.”

Jaemin nods. “No problem.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna learn if you keep copying Jaemin’s notes.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” he says, defending himself.

“You borrow my notes, too, though… so Renjun kinda has a point.” Hyuck says, leaning back as the waitress sets his drink down in front of him.

You pull out your phone as the boys argue yet again just to see what was happening on your social media. It was mostly random tweets and posts from people you knew, but there was something that caught your eye. It was a promoted post from ButterFly. It had no likes or anything, despite being promoted to your Twitter timeline. And it wasn’t just one. After a few scrolls, you saw another ad from the app, just with a different caption. You saw another one before shaking your head and exiting the app. You opened Instagram, just to be met with the same ad.

Don’t be afraid. Having the chance to change your fate is much more fun than you think.

The caption sent chills down your spine. It didn’t sound like something that should be promoted. You clicked the link the ad provided, but it simply took you to the app store. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You wanted to download the app, but something was holding you back.

Jaemin nudged your shoulder, making you jump.

“Huh?” you ask. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Do you want something to eat?” Jaemin asked.

“Oh,” you look at the waitress next to the table, notebook and pen in hand. “I’m okay.” you reply.

The waitress nods before turning around and entering the kitchen. You stand up from your seat at the booth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You shoved your phone into a pocket on your bookbag and rushed to the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you, walking to the sink. You looked at yourself. You looked tired, disheveled. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling you had felt since waking up. You could barely even describe it. It almost felt like dread, but it was more of an unexplainable sadness. Not even being with your friends seemed to help it. You turned on the water, splashing your cheeks with cold water. How had you been so enchanted by the ads of that app that you had become completely oblivious to what was going on around you?

You dried your face before you heard a small knock on the door. “Hey, are you okay?” You opened the door and saw Jaemin. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry…” you say, stepping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting… strange today. No offense,” Jaemin says.

“None taken,” you sigh. “I know I have. Everything just feels off today, I don’t know why.” You tell him.

Jaemin puts his arm around you and you both begin walking back to the table the others were at. “It’s okay to feel that way… I think everyone does. It just sucks to watch you feel so sad.” Jaemin says. He sighs. “I really hope you start feeling better soon. I miss hearing your laugh.”

You smile. “I miss it too,” you say, reaching the table. Jaemin scoots into the booth and you follow after. You try to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach and have a good afternoon with your friends. You ended up starting to feel better. You stole some of Hyuck’s food after panicking and not ordering some of your own. You laughed at everyone’s jokes and dumb arguments, and before you knew it, an hour had passed. You all decided to stop being a bother and leave. You waited outside as everyone paid; Jaemin offered to pay for you since all you got was a drink.

“Are you heading home?” Jeno asked Jaemin.

He nodded. “I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” he said, resting his head on yours.

Jeno nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Renjun and Hyuck also waved goodbye. They were all going to Jeno’s. You went your separate ways, and as much as you loved them, you were glad to be alone with Jaemin. Your house wasn’t too far, but even if it was just a few minutes, you were glad to be with him.

“Are you just gonna go home and do homework?” you ask.

Jaemin nods. “Yeah… it’s probably gonna take some time.”

“Sorry baby,” you say. “I’ll facetime you once my mom gets home,” you tell him.

Your mother worked late, so you were in charge of looking after your younger brother, Jisung, until she got home. He was only 2 years younger than you, so it’s not like it was hard, but you still felt obligated to keep tabs on him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. You both walked through your driveway and to the front door. “But if you want to, however… I would love it if you did.” he grins as you open your door.

“Well, then expect a call later,” you say, grabbing both of his hands.

Jaemin leans in and kisses you, and for a second, it feels like everything is okay.

“Gross!” a voice yells. You jump away from Jaemin and turn around.

“Jisung, your sister and her boyfriend are smashing their faces together again!” Chenle, who was standing in the kitchen, yells. Jisung’s pokes his head around the corner.

“Shut up, Chenle.” you say, grinning. “You’re not a child, kissing isn’t that weird.”

You step inside, taking off your shoes and setting your bag down. Jaemin steps in behind you and walks to the kitchen, putting Chenle in a headlock. “You little jerk,” Jaemin teases.

Chenle giggles, trying to get out of Jaemin’s arms. You walk to the living room where Jisung had gone, continuing his video game. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Good.” Jisung says, eyes still glued to the TV.

“That’s good,” you look back to the kitchen and see that Jaemin has released Chenle, and is now talking to him. “Do you have homework?”

Jisung nods. You watch the TV, and watch his character die. Jisung sighs and sets the controller down, turning to you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Can you try and get it done before Mom gets home?” you ask.

Jisung nods. “Yeah… Chenle and I have the same homework so we can do it together, I guess.”

You nod and go back to the kitchen. Talking to Jisung sometimes felt like talking to a brick wall. “I better get going.” Jaemin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door. “I’ll see you.” you grab both of his hands again, never wanting to let go. Jaemin kisses your cheek and turns.

You bite your lip. Why was this horrible feeling back so suddenly? “Hey, Jaemin?” you call after him. He turns back around.

“I love you.” you say, almost too softly. For a second you weren’t even sure if he heard you, but he gives you that classic smile, the one that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“I love you too.” he blows you a kiss before walking away.

[9:41 p.m.]

You sat down on your bed, freshly out of the shower. Since Jaemin had left, you helped Jisung and Chenle with their homework, did your own homework, and facetimed Jaemin for a bit while he did his. And then you took a long shower in an attempt to clear your head.

You look around for your phone, finding it hidden in a blanket on your bed. You answer some unread texts and then open Instagram again. You’re met with the same ads from before. Your heart drops.

Without thinking you click the link again, pressing download. It downloaded in no time. Your thumb hovers over the icon of the app. The moment you muster up the courage to click on it, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

You jump, startled, but get up and open it.

Your mother’s exhausted face greets you. “Hi sweetie. I’m going straight to bed, so… goodnight. I hope you had a good day.”

You smile, shakily exhaling. “Today was fine. Goodnight.” you say, not wanting to delay her sleep anymore.

She gives you a warm smile before going to her room. Before you close your door, Jisung appears from the staircase nearby. “You going to bed?” he asks.

“Uh,” you open your phone, looking at the time.

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You ignore the notification. “No… but I’ll probably be in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, okay… well… goodnight then.” he says, going to his room which was right across from yours. He closes the door without another word.

You press your lips together and shut your door as well, laying down on your bed. You opened your phone and clicked on ButterFly.

1 Unread Message

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You hesitantly enter your name. You regret it as soon as you responded — maybe you should’ve used a fake name.

ButterFlyHQ

Hello, (y/n).

What do you wish to change?

Wow, straight to the point… You think.

You wonder what you should enter. You try to think of the most outrageous thing you could think of, something completely unimaginable. Something that would surely trigger the Butterfly Effect.

There were things you actually wanted to change.

You wanted your mother to stop being so stressed.

You wanted Jisung to be happy.

You wanted to stop feeling so insecure about you and Jaemin’s relationship.

You wanted Jiwoo to finally pass trigonometry.

Okay, the last one was a bit dumb, and actually imaginable. And then you thought of the most impossible thing.

You

I want my best friend to come back to life.

You almost laugh as you sent the message. But your faint smile fades at the immediate response.

ButterFlyHQ

What is your best friend’s name?

This was suddenly feeling too personal.

You

Mark Lee.

ButterFlyHQ

Understood. We will try our best to meet your request.

You stare at your phone. Now what? You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand, plugging it into the charger before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Great, now some random stranger knows some girl thinks an app can bring her friend back from the grave.

When you got the chance, you were gonna chew Jiwoo out for bringing that app up. You get under the covers and close your eyes, trying to sleep. But your mind was racing. You finally feel yourself drifting, your mind finally giving you some peace.

Your last thought before you finally fall asleep is Jaemin. You just wanted to be with him again, his arm around your shoulder, his fingers lazily intertwined with yours. You felt yourself smiling before finally falling asleep, unknowingly saying goodbye to your last normal day.

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ruzek-halstead · 4 years

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respectfully

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

hailey somehow gets roped into attending her ex-fiancé & ex-best friend's wedding, and there's no way in hell she's going solo. hailey requests jay's help as her pretend boyfriend and he discovers he is incredibly attracted to badass hailey.

“anyway, congratulations on your wedding day but respectfully, fuck off.”

masterlist || ao3

warnings: swearing, fluffery, hailey upton’s badassery

jay can tell something is bothering his partner. he notices it during the first twenty seconds after he picks her up that sunny chicago morning. he doesn’t pry though; that’s just not how they work. he knows she’ll talk about it when she’s ready.

today is actually supposed to be their day off; however, both detectives are interested in some overtime, after sergeant platt asked them to help out oh so nicely.

they are in their blues (which is a very rare occurrence), acting as extra security during a chicago street festival. jay honestly has no idea what the festival was for and platt wasn’t in the mood to explain it to him.

jay and hailey stick together as they patrol the street; the conversation is kept fairly light, but hailey seems distant and uninterested and jay is starting to worry slightly.

“hey, is everything okay?” he asks her, as they turn a corner. she turns to him with her eyebrows raised and he instantly jumps in to defend himself. “i know, personal question. but you’ve been off all morning. just want to make sure you’re alright.”

hailey chuckles, losing their eye contact to watch the festival in front of them. it was busy but not overly crowded that they couldn’t hear what the other was saying. “no, i’m fine. just have a few things on my mind.”

it was jay’s turn to raise his single eyebrow, attempting to catch her gaze again. “anything you want to talk about?”

hailey looks like she wants to laugh and that just leaves jay even more clueless; she really was aloof about her personal life. “no, it’s nothing serious.”

“still,” he shrugs, stuffing his hands into his front pockets. “i’ll listen.”

hailey smiles, patting his shoulder that slumps in defeat. “i know, jay. but i’m fine.”

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jay doesn’t pry anymore after she shuts him down. they finish their volunteer shift, agree to go home and shower and meet up at a bar nearby. they still go to molly’s to hang out with the other first responders, but they’ve started going to this other bar, as to not have other prying eyes around. sometimes they just want to talk, something they just want to drink, but this way, it’s just the two of them.

he’s watching hailey at the bar, buying them another round of beers. she’s still been slightly off, but he’s confident she’s about ready to crack.

jay’s halfway into his second beer when she finally explodes.

“okay, i've decided i'm going to tell you what’s up, but you’re not allowed to laugh.”

she looks so serious and jay is so confused. why would he laugh if something was wrong?

“okay?” he replies, more as a question.

she looks as if she’s mentally preparing herself and he’s clueless, but that seems to be the norm around hailey.

“one of my ex-boyfriends is getting married.”

jay raises his eyebrows, expecting everything but that.

“to my ex-best friend.”

realization is slowly dawning on him.

“he cheated on me with her, so we broke up, naturally.”

he’s kept quiet because she doesn’t look finished venting yet.

“but they’re getting married in like a week, and i wasn’t going to go because fuck them, you know?” hailey was going off now and jay listened diligently, a hint of a smile on his lips. “yes, you heard correctly; i received an invite. anyway, i never sent in my rsvp either just to keep them guessing and mess up their wedding plans. but then,” she adds dramatically, rolling her eyes; jay is trying really hard not to laugh now. “i saw them! i saw both of them last night on my way home. of all the places i could run into them, i ran into them at the convenience store when i was picking up milk,” she looks so annoyed, “milk, jay.”

at this point, jay can’t contain his laughter anymore. hailey looks affronted.

“hailey, i’m sorry, okay?” he can’t seem to stop or look the least bit apologetic. “i’m not laughing at your story, i promise. it's just the way you’re telling it. i've never seen you so invested in something and so annoyed.”

hailey is pissed, but not at jay; it’s just the whole situation in general has been bugging her all day and she just needed to tell someone. “oh, there’s more.”

jay's eyes widen. “oh no, what happened?”

“so, there i am, carrying the milk and they’re being all friendly and shit like nothing happened,” her eyes are squinted, “like what the fuck?”

jay nods, smirking. “how dare they?”

hailey pauses, glaring at him. “i know you’re being a smartass, but i'm going to ignore that because, listen to this,” he leans in, completely invested. “they asked if i was going to the wedding, but like what the hell am i supposed to say to their faces?”

“oh no,” jay mumbles, “hailey, you didn’t.”

“yes, jay, i absolutely did,” she laughs, “when they mentioned they never got my rsvp, i told them it must have been lost in the mail because i definitely sent it.”

jay is full on laughing again and hailey can’t even be mad because she’s laughing too.

“jay, it gets worse,” she groans, dropping her head into her hands. jay is basically already losing it; he’s not sure how much worse it can get. “they asked me for the details so they could add it into their plans, and they asked me if it was two spots; one for me and one for my boyfriend.”

jay's eyes widen. “oh shit.”

“i know they were messing with me; i could see it on their faces,” she adds angrily. her blue eyes are slightly wild, and her messy hair is sticking to her face as she spoke ferociously. “but there was no way in hell i was telling them i’m going to their wedding solo! so, now i need a last-minute date, and the wedding is in like a week.”

jay takes a swig from his beer, amusement still present on his facial features. “wow hailey, that was a rollercoaster. no wonder you’ve been off all day.”

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up, halstead,” hailey sasses while rolling her eyes. “but don’t you worry, your time of reckoning will come.” jay’s eyebrows furrow and he doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “you got a nice suit?”

jay shakes his head rapidly. “no. not this again.”

“what?” hailey interrupts, looking confused. “you’re coming to this wedding with me, you have no choice.”

jay sighs. “are you sure this is a good idea?”

“i'm not showing up solo, jay,” her expression is serious. “and if i have to pretend to be in a fake relationship for one night, i would rather it be you.”

jay ignores the way her words make him feel inside. “okay, fine. looks like i don’t have much of a say anyway.”

hailey smiles toothily and any doubts he previously had disappear. “no, you definitely don’t. also, i'm pretty sure voight is out of town, so you’re really my only other option.”

he chuckles, finishing the last of his beer. “okay, if we’re going to do this, tell me everything i need to know.”

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hailey should probably be nervous, but she surprisingly isn’t.

she's about to spend a night pretending to be madly in love with her partner (which honestly wasn’t that hard to do), and she hasn’t started panicking. it's basically like working undercover; she has just never done this level role-playing with jay before.

but he seemed good. he didn’t seem nervous at all, as she gazed at him from the passenger seat of his truck. he picked her up about twenty minutes ago, looking absolutely dazzling in a pressed simple black suit. she was momentarily speechless, but she awkwardly smiled and gave him a random compliment when he cleared his throat.

contrary to what hailey thought, jay was a little nervous. this was uncharted territory and they hadn’t discussed much of how they would act around each other. it was like an undercover operation and they would just go with the flow. but he had to be honest; with hailey wearing a dress like that, it was going to be extremely hard to focus. her dress actually was quite similar to erin's from their undercover op in the sex club and honestly, the parallels between them lately were uncanny.

“what?” he asks as he catches her staring for the fifth time since they left for the ceremony.

she giggles, “sorry, nothing. i'm just picturing nate’s face when he sees you.”

nate is the ex-boyfriend; kathy is the ex-best friend. hailey had caught him up over the last week on everything he needed to know. she may have omitted a few details, but what he didn’t know, he didn’t know, right?

jay raises an eyebrow, turning right onto the street of their destination. “why?”

hailey rolls her eyes; he can be so adorably clueless. “shut up; you know you’re attractive, okay?”

he smirks and internally debates whether he should use this moment to blatantly flirt with her, but figures he’ll have lots of time for that throughout the evening. he pulls into the venue and secure a parking spot, catching hailey’s fidgety hands from the corner of his eye.

they had decided to keep their fake relationship as close to reality as possible, as to make everything easier. they had been partners for a bit over three years and started showing romantic interests in each other two years in. they decided to give it a try a few months later, and have been together ever since.

“you ready?” he asks in a soft voice.

hailey nods. “yeah, yeah, i'm okay,” she wipes her hands on her red dress (honestly, red? was she trying to kill him?). “just realizing i'm going to see a lot of people from my past in there tonight.”

jay reaches over the console and taps her knee, careful not to linger. “what did you say the other day? fuck ‘em?”

she looks over at him and smiles. “fuck ‘em.”

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the wedding is taking place at an extravagant hotel wedding plaza; the ceremony is happening in the outside garden at sunset, while the reception is immediately following within the hotel. as they make their way to the back garden, hailey is stunned by the beauty of it all. there are fairy lights decorating the whole perimeter, clearly illuminating the make-shift altar where the vows would be held. over the altar, there is a gorgeous arc with lights intertwined and a pathway made up entirely of flowers. the color scheme is off-white and light pink and it blends together beautifully.

“i have to hand it to them; this place looks amazing,” hailey murmurs low enough for only jay to hear.

jay smiles, grabbing two flutes of champagne from the waiter passing through. “you ever think of how your wedding would look?” he asks as he hands her a flute.

hailey chokes into her first sip. “god no,” she licks her lips and jay stares. “after everything we deal with and see on a daily basis, thinking of something like my own wedding just seems so miniscule and pointless.”

“so, you’re a vegas wedding type of girl?” he smirks.

hailey returns his devious look. “if it saves me time and money, i'll cheers to that,” she clinks her glass with jay's before turning to scan the crowd. it was part of her nature to surveillance everyone around her, even if she didn’t realize it. “oh hey, that’s nate, by the way.”

she points to a tall man, dressed in a pressed black tux, laughing with what jay assumed were his groomsmen. jay surveys him for a second, well aware of hailey’s eyes on him, and shrugs, “you can do better,” he says as he takes another sip of champagne.

hailey beams and he fucking loves it.

but he sees her smile fade away as the man in question starts making his way over to them.

“oh my god,” she panics, “here we go.”

“relax,” he murmurs into her ear, sliding closer, “we’ve got this.”

nate reaches them and jay takes a moment to study him up close. he looks polite enough, but jay knows better. nate’s eyeing hailey like she’s a piece of meat and he’s definitely not into that. he decides he doesn’t like the guy.

“hailey! i’m so glad you could make it!”

jay glances at hailey and sees the strain in her features. he can almost read her mind; is this guy serious?

“thanks nate, and congratulations,” she turns to jay with adoration in her eyes (wow, she’s good). “i want you to meet my boyfriend, this is jay.”

jay sets nate with a cool but polite look. “hey, it’s nice to meet you. and congratulations on your wedding, this place looks beautiful.”

nate reaches for jay’s outstretched hand and doesn’t falter under his tight grip. “thanks, man. how did you meet hailey?”

“we’re partners,” he replies easily.

nate raises his eyebrows. “robbery-homicide?”

“no, i joined the intelligence unit at the 21st district a few years ago,” hailey jumps in.

nate looks oddly surprised. “oh, you left? i didn’t know you moved to the other side of town.”

hailey smirks, “yeah, guess i just had to leave some stuff behind.”

nate nods, teetering awkwardly. “sorry, i just always thought you’d be a lifer down there,” he says with such a nonchalant attitude that jay is raising his eyebrows at his audacity. “you always said you weren’t cut out for more.”

hailey opens her mouth to respond but she looks temporarily stunned; jay decides to step in with some truth bombs. “hey man, hailey’s an amazing detective. it it wasn’t for her, i probably wouldn’t even be here today.”

“wait a minute, what the fuck?” hailey snaps and jay bites his lip. her voice is low because she knows better than to embarrass the guy too horribly on his wedding day, but he deserves this. “i never said that, you said that! because you didn’t want a fiancée more successful than you!”

jay casts a quick look at her when he hears her say fiancée, but she’s too heated to notice.

nate also looks affronted that she mentioned that, or that she responded at all. clearly we’re both remembering different situations.”

“yeah, clearly,” hailey snorts. “anyway, congratulations on your wedding day but respectfully, fuck off.”

jay is absolutely stunned as she grabs his wrist and yanks him in the direction of the outdoor bar. she quickly asks the bartender for four tequila shots and downs the first one, all within the minute.

jay has literally never been more attracted to her.

“can you believe the nerve of that guy?” hailey hisses angrily. she takes another shot. “i swear he just invited me to piss me off.”

jay pushes the other two shots in her direction. it's one in the afternoon; he can’t fathom having two tequila shots at that hour, but hailey has already had a day and she clearly needs them. with jay’s silence, hailey stills after her third tequila shot. her brows furrow and worry lines appear on her face.

“shit, was that too much?” she says, panicking. “did i overreact and make a big scene on his wedding day for no reason?”

jay smiles, instantly putting her worries at ease. “oh no, not at all. he was an ass and deserved it, trust me,” she nods and takes the last shot. “that was pretty badass.”

hailey snorts, rolling her eyes. “he's lucky i didn’t punch him in the face. i have a pretty great right-cross.”

“let's not give the groom a black eye before he’s even gotten to the altar,” he says as he leads her to the seating area with a hand on her lower back. other guests are starting to find their seats, while the groom and his party make their way to the altar. “we’re still not halfway through this thing.”

🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊

the ceremony is standard; nothing special.

jay and hailey politely stand for the bride to make her grand entrance. her dress is big and poofy and hailey hates everything about it, but she stands quietly and watches. her anxiety is out the roof given the situation she’s currently in but having jay next to her really does calm her. he's not doing anything special; they’re only touching the bare minimum, sitting right next to each other, but that’s all she needs to relax her.

the reception that follows is also very bland. they are seated with three other couples, who are surprisingly very friendly. hailey doesn’t recognize them, so they must have come into the picture after her departure.

“hey,” jay murmurs, a few minutes after they dim the lights for dancing. “i don’t want to pry, but i’m curious.”

truthfully, hailey has been waiting for this question since her outburst earlier with nate. she’s surprised he didn’t ask sooner, considering his lack of patience when it comes to curiosity. “what do you want to know?” she levels him with a slightly smirk.

“come on, hailey,” jay gives into a half smile. “why didn’t you tell me you were engaged to him?”

hailey pauses for a moment, actually thinking about her response. “the truth?” he nods solemnly. “i didn’t really want you to know about my failed relationships.”

jay’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. “your failed relationships?” he’s almost laughing. “hailey, have you even seen all of mine?”

she laughs, “i know, but i don’t know,” she’s twisting her fingers together to keep her busy. “i just – i really loved him. and then that happened, and i felt like it was my fault, you know? like i did something to warrant that. i didn’t want people knowing. especially you; i didn’t want you to think any less of me.”

jay’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “hailey, i can’t even begin to tell you how wrong everything you just said is.”

hailey looks at him shyly; she’s not a shy person.

“i would never think any less of you; you’re one of the best people i’ve ever known,” he says seriously, his eyes star deep into her soul; she can’t escape. “also, none of that was your fault. if he was stupid enough to lose you, he’s an idiot and nothing you did caused that.”

hailey smirks at him. “i know that now. he’s trash and i deserve better.”

the smile jay sends her is blinding. “good. you do deserve better.”

he continues to look at her and she doesn’t tear her gaze away; she can’t.

their tender moment is interrupted by the screeching of chairs, as the bride and groom decide to make their rounds to every table. and because hailey has been extremely lucky lately, all the other couples are either on the dance floor or at the bar when they decide to come to jay and hailey's table.

hailey can see them approaching, and she wants to run, yet tragically, she cannot.

“you got me?” she mumbles to jay quietly, grasping his hand automatically.

he looks at her with a fond smile and tightens his grip. “always.”

both detectives brace themselves for the next few minutes. they've faced flying bullets and bombs, but somehow, this feels worse.

“hailey!” kathy squeals, dipping in for a hug. hailey goes rigid and her facial expression changes to one of pure discomfort. “so glad you could make it! and who’s this?” she sets her eyes on jay, and now it’s his turn to be uncomfortable. nate has looked uncomfortable during this whole interaction so far; probably has something to do with hailey telling him to fuck off. respectfully.

“i'm jay,” he introduces himself, thrusting out his hand before she has the idea to hug him too. kathy pauses, but shakes his hand anyway; clearly, she wanted a hug.

kathy raises an eyebrow. “you’re the new partner, right?”

“sure,” jay shrugs. “it's been a while, but yeah, you could say that.”

she raises her eyebrows suggestively in hailey's direction. “i can definitely see why you wanted more than just partnership with this hunk.”

hailey stares at her. “do you hit on everyone’s boyfriends, or just all of mine?”

jay's eyes widen, but he keeps his composure for hailey’s sake. kathy’s face blanches and she straightens as if hailey has just slapped her across the face; well, she may as well have.

“hailey, please don’t forget you’re here at my wedding, as per my request,” kathy deadpans in response and if jay thinks they were in trouble before, they’re really in for it now. “do not disrespect me like that.”

hailey’s eyes squint and the words she’s hearing are causing her physical pain. “are you kidding me?” she hisses. “you slept with my fiancé and had the audacity to invite me to the wedding, so who the hell do you think you are sassing right now?”

kathy purses her lips. “i thought you’d be happy for me. we were such great friends.”

hailey is about to lose her shit. “jay, i’m going to hit her,” she says quickly and jay decides to take charge and jump in.

“alright, you know what? it's your wedding day, we don’t need to make a scene,” he says calmly; hailey is still breathing deeply. “but you both should acknowledge you did hailey dirty and she deserves an apology, at least.”

the bride looks affronted that he would even get involved. “apology? she should be apologizing to me! she’s causing me stress! you don’t upset the bride on her wedding day!”

“i’m about to do more than just upset you,” hailey growls, quickly standing up and planting her feet firmly to the ground. jay has no doubt in his mind that hailey will not hesitate to give the bride a black eye, but he really can’t let her do that.

with his rapid instincts, he’s able to wrap an arm around her waist and yank her into his side and farther away from kathy, who pales and flinches a few steps back. to anyone watching, it merely looks like he’s unable to keep his hands off his girlfriend and pulled her closer for a quick cuddle. it seems this is enough to snap hailey out of whatever revenge-infused fantasy she’s living in her head. “i'm going to leave,” she says calmly, “and i would like to say i wish you both nothing but happiness but really, i want to tell you both to go fuck yourselves. respectfully.”

with those last few words, hailey grabs her clutch, jay’s hand and pulls him in the direction of the exit doors.

and once again, he has never been so attracted to her.

“oh my god, i can’t believe that just happened,” she groans as soon as she exits the building. she instantly leans against the brick wall and allows the coldness to distract her. at his silence, she peaks an eye open to see him gaping at her. his cheeks are flushed, and he looks flustered, which is highly unusual for jay.

“what's wrong?” she questions. “why are you looking at me like that?”

he seems to snap out of it but he is blushing like no tomorrow. hailey is shocked; this literally never happens. “it's nothing, sorry,” he mumbles. “you just look really good.”

hailey has to strain her ears because she almost can’t hear him, but she does. “what?”

jay huffs but decides he can’t get out of this now. “apparently i have a thing for angry hailey,” he says honestly, and she’s floored. “i’m probably crossing a line here or something, but i'm very attracted to you right now.”

jay is being bold and meeting her blue eyes, but hailey is slightly speechless.

“and if i'm being honest, i really want to kiss you. i've wanted to all night.”

hailey decides to feed off his confidence and play along. “what's stopping you?”

he forces his eyes not to widen at her forward manner and instead takes a step closer to her position against the brick wall. “so many things…” he groans, his hands finding her waist.

“but?”

“but i don’t care.”

his lips meet hers tantalizingly slow.

his kiss is soft, much like his entire character when it comes to hailey. one of his hands reaches up to cradle her cheek and hailey surges forward because it’s not enough. jay pulls back.

“finally,” hailey mumbles, cuddling her face into his neck. he holds on tight, the overwhelming scent of her enough to keep him smiling. “i've been wanting to kiss you since the first time you got shot.”

honestly, he can’t remember when he started wanting to kiss her but he’s damn well glad he finally did. “thanks for coming with me today,” she says quietly, “it’s hard for me to open up about my past, but i really hope i can get there with you.”

he's still holding on tight, and he’s smiling as she sneaks a glance at him. “we have all the time in the world.”

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jaybug-jabbers · 4 years

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All-Glitch Pokemon Blue Run Pt11: On the Road to Glitch City

June,

If you plan on experimenting further with hybrids, please inform me first. One wrong step and you could wind up with an entire box of hybrids by mistake, everyone a huge, fused mess. That said, I’m glad you find utility with your new Parasect.

On to a new topic, there’s a very exciting new destination I have in mind for you. Tell me . . . have you ever heard of Glitch City?

In Fuscia City, there is a gateway to this place. I’m attaching directions you’ll need to follow in order to get there. I’d like you to explore and try to create a map of this place. Very little is known about Glitch City, and what secrets it might hold. Be sure to watch your step and keep your wits about you.

-Professor Gingko

---

Professor,

After I cleared the Snorlax out of the path and reached Fuscia City, I followed your instructions. I entered the Safari Zone, then saved the data on my Glitchdex and rebooted the system, and went back to the Safari Zone’s main gate. I have no idea how the man working the front counter didn’t recognize me, as he only let me in a few minutes ago. I also can’t begin to imagine how he was trying to charge me for entering the park when I was already inside. But I poliely declined his offer to charge me for re-entering the park, and so he guided me instead to the exit.

Once out and on my own, I poisoned the sole pokemon in my party and then took 499 steps as you described, and ended my final step hopping over a ledge. Just as you predicted, the Safari Zone man intterupted me to drag me back to their central gate. They apologized for the confusion, and told me that my allotted time had passed and my Safari Zone game was now complete. You were right-- the staff here are pretty incompetent, as it turns out.

But I did not leave their front gate immediately. Instead, I waited until my poor pokemon fainted from poisoning, as you told me to. Then I felt the familiar blackness descend upon my consciousness as I blacked out in sympathy for my own pokemon.

As unpleasant as all that was, when I woke up again, it was with the newfound powers you predicted I would have: the ability to walk through walls. This wasn’t like before, with the glitch item you called “Rival’s Effect.” This was far more powerful. I could walk anywhere, without limits. It was crazy! How could messing about with the incompetent staff at the Safari Zone lead to the ability to walk through walls?

I wandered for quite some time in this state, until I ended up back in Cerulean City. I have to say, with this new ability, some discoveries were pretty disappointing.

Bill’s Garden, for example. I heard the locals whisper all sorts of rumors about it, about the place being huge and lush and absolutely filled with rare pokemon. I even heard one person claim Bill had a private runway and a jet parked back there, which he used to fly to exotic cities full of powerful, rare pokemon. Yet . . . when I snuck back there, all I found was a very small and almost barren backyard.

That said, not all discoveries were disappointments. Because as I was exploring Cerulean, I came across the very thing you wished me to find: Glitch City.

My starting point was right here, beside the Nugget Bridge. All I did was begin walking right. And kept walking. After a nice long jog across plain rock and dirt, I reached some water; the moment I did, I began to jog south. And, with enough walking, I finally reached the city.

The city was full of vast tracts of what I guessed were apartment complexes, spanning for what seemed like miles. However, I could not enter these buildings, as they were all locked up tight; and there was nobody to be found. Glitch City seemed to be an enormous ghost town. Growing among the flowers were strange plants that looked like letters or numbers, and the paths and roads were often torn up. I would sometimes come across small pools of water, and other times I would find cave entrances, but the caves were sadly always blocked with rocks, preventing my access.

I would even, at times, find patches of taller grass growing. Now, you would expect that in a place like Glitch City, it would be teeming with glitch pokemon. Indeed, I might even guess the origin of all glitch pokemon might be this place. Yet, when I searched the tall grass and fished in the pools of water, and I did encounter pokemon, they were all seemingly normal. I captured them just fine, but they seemed no different from the ordinary, everyday pokemon you can find. Considering their twisted, distorted surroundings, and the almost haunted looking landscape, that felt very counter-intuitive.

I began to make a map as you suggested while I travelled, and I soon realized that Glitch City is absolutely enormous. What’s more, it’s incredibly easy to get lost there. The land will even sometimes shift and mutate on its own. Despite this fact, I am sending you my best attempt at a map. Just follow this link here. It meant snapping many, many photos, but the end result should give you an idea of what Glitch City looks like. As you can tell, the sheer number of buildings is incredible. Glitch City is a packed metropolis, only occasionally interrupted by ponds, plantlife, caves, and the fields of strange numbers.

Yet I still cannot find any people living in this expansive city. I don’t know what to make of it. Do you have any ideas about this, Professor? Where might I find the locals of this place-- and the glitch pokemon, for that matter?

-June

---

June,

I must praise you for your efforts in mapping out the Glitch City you have explored. The map is both detailed and very extensive. Excellent work.

What we know of Glitch City is that it can be found when there is a disturbance in our universe. When you passed through that disturbance near the Nugget Bridge, you ended up in a parallell universe of sorts. I cannot say where the denizens of that universe are and why their city seems abandoned, but I can tell you there are multiple Glitch Cities that can be found. The one you explored is but one of many.

If you’d like to find some people who seem to be native to a glitchy universe, though, I might have a solution for you. Instead of finding them in a Glitch City, you might find them in our world, after performing the Ditto Trick. I will send further details for you soon, but for now, I recommend finishing your Glitch City explorations.

-Professor Gingko

---

Professor,

Thanks for the insight. Actually, I have something else to report now.

I teleported back to somewhere familiar and began a new exploration, still with my walk through walls ability. I just had to return to Pallet Town and see something for myself.

The last time I tried to reach the fields of grass outside of Pallet Town’s walls, I had passed out. I wasn’t going to repeat that mistake. Instead, I went to this point in Viridian City. Then I passed through this wooden fence and walked south.

And I did it. I was in the fields. For some reason, approaching from this direction was a lot safer. I have to say, though, there wasn’t actually anything all that scary out there. The pokemon in the grass were the usual low-level Pidgeys and Rattatas and such. All the same, it felt good to finally know for sure.

But then I decided to walk east. And things got a little weird. As I walked east, I found a town . . . exactly like Pallet Town.

There was nobody there. It was just an exact clone of my home. Down to the very last brick, just entirely empty. I can’t begin to explain how creepy it felt. Why was there a ghost town out here that looked exactly like Pallet Town? I kept walking right and found another one . . . and then another one. Each town seemed to be shifted up a little as I walked through them, but otherwise, they were all exactly the same.

Are these . . . parallel universes, like you said, Professor? If so, what happened to the people?

-June

---

End Notes

* How to set up the Walk-Through-Walls glitch

* Detailed video about walking out of bounds

* You can also access a Wrong Warp Glitch City by wasting your Safari Zone steps on a route with no valid ‘warp 4′ points, and thus immerge from the Safari Zone gate into a glitched version of that route. This is a bit easier to set up than the WtW version, but it also means you’re very limited in how much you can move around.

Click for the next part of the series!

This is a repost on a new blog. The original post was on Dec 6, 2019.

#pokemon #glitch pokemon #pokemon glitching #glitch run #mycontent #pokemon playthroughs

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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years

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FTWD 5x07: Analysis

“She’s alive….Impossible shit happens.”

Hello everyone. How you like last night’s episode. I thought it was fantastic. There were some really great lines in it that are very good for TD.

***As always, spoilers abound in for 5x07 in this post. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

So, a quick synopsis. In this episode, Strand and Charlie are still trying to get the propellers back to Luciana so they can put them on the plane. By the end of the episode, they do manage that. Morgan seems to get through to Grace. It seems that perhaps will come with them now. Alicia manages to get the children to agree to come with them as well, and John finally gives Dwight the letter from Sherry. The major twist is that Alicia killed a walker that was contaminated. She didn't know until after she killed it and saw chemical burns under its clothing. She got some of its blood in her mouth and chances are she's infected now.

Remember last week I said I felt like they were hinting that someone was going to get sick and die? Looks like Alicia is the one. Will she actually die? I don't know. If they do any kind of cure arc, I think it's possible she’ll still live. But it's equally possible that they're heading toward killing off her character. They did talk a lot about how she redeemed herself and made up for the bad things she's done, so I could see was being fitting end to her arc. More on that in a minute.

Let's talk symbols. The biggest one was still the yellow balloon that Strand and Charlie used. I'm about to shift a little bit on what I think the yellow means. I’ve always said yellow means escape, and I still think it does. But I think after all the times we've seen it, we can be a little bit more specific. The yellow specifically means escaping or living through an encounter with walkers.

There’s awesome evidence of that in this episode. Strand and Charlie used the yellow balloon specifically as a wall against a horde of walkers. So yellow specifically protected them from the dead, rather than helping them in a more general escape.

If we look back over all the other times we've seen yellow in this way, that's always the case. We saw it around Beth and Noah when they escaped Grady, and they fought walkers the entire way. It also might've been a foreshadow of the walker horde that resulted in Beth being left behind, but that remains to be seen. In 7x12, Michonne thought Rick was eaten by the walker horde but he went through the ride and escape through yellow car. So, the yellow car protected him from the walkers and helped him live.

A lot of gasoline/fuel in this episode. We’ve seen a lot of this anyway throughout the season. Al went to get some fuel for the plane on the mountaintop, where she went with Isabelle before. We got a shot of the fuel right beside a lake, which is kind of interesting.

When Alicia went to convince the kids to come with her, something interesting struck me. I have no idea if this is what they were going for, but the kids were living in this sort of makeshift tree house.

It reminded me a lot of Peter Pan’s lost boys. Basically, these are kids living on their own and not wanting to become part of the real world. Just like the lost boys didn’t want to Neverland and go back to real world.

And THAT reminded me of Beth’s song in 4A. When she sang to Judith in the prison, she sang about not wanting to grow up, which I always saw as a Peter Pan reference. I don’t know if we should be comparing those two, but it might be a connection that shows Beth will show up soon. And honestly, I can see the Peter Pan story being associated with Sirius symbolism. People always “return” to Neverland, and you get there through the stars. “Second star to the right...” etc

Morgan went to some houses Grace told him to, looking for a car. There were some interesting shots there as well. He found a parking permit hanging from the mirror of a car.

It caught my attention because that's where the rabbit foot hung in the wolves’ car in 5x16. Plus, it had a prominent A on, much as the helicopter does.

I really hoped he’d look in the trunk, but he didn’t. He searched the car for keys, including the glove box. It was very reminiscent of the way Maggie searched the car in 5x10. Even though he didn’t open the trunk, I still felt like there was something important about cars and parking, and of course looking for keys. (Key theory.)

Inside the house, Morgan picked up a Garfield birthday card.

That's important for two reasons. First, there's the cat symbol, which I’ve talked about recently. We think that it's a resurrection symbol because cats are known for having nine lives. And we can tie that back to Daryl in S4 and the Claimers (think Red Machete). Rewatching, I think there’s actually three different birthday cards, all with cats on them. But the camera focused in on this one.

Then there's the birthday thing. I can only remember two other times in the show where birthdays were mentioned. One was by Beth in Still when she mentioned birthdays and summer picnics. The other was when the Savior outside their compound in 6x12 started whistling the Happy Birthday song. So, seeing those two symbols together felt important.

Morgan also saw a flyer for Fiddler on the Foof. A couple of ways I think they might be using the symbol. First, it's definitely a musical symbol. This musical is also the story of a people who get kicked out of their homes. They’re forced to leave against their will. I think that could also foreshadow something with Morgan’s group. They were living in the denim factory before Clay’s previous partner took it away and is forcing them to leave. So, maybe it foreshadows them being forced it leave the area. Maybe something else. It will be interesting to see how things go moving forward.

But back to the musical symbol, because we know Beth equals music. I couldn't help but think that right by the flyer, Morgan found the keys. The key was kind of in the music.

In this part, @wdway also noticed that there’s a soda bottle on the fridge in the background. We can’t tell if it says “Frosty Cola” on it, but it’s definitely reminiscent of the Frosty Cola soda bottle.

I even noticed a bird cage. We saw one of those in Beth’s cell and have seen them in a few key scenes since. It definitely gave me some thoughts, but I’m going to save them for another time because they’re a little off-topic.

A little later in the episode, Morgan shows up to kill walkers and save Strand and Charlie. This is very reminiscent of what happened in S5 with Daryl and Aaron. In both cases, they were surrounded by walkers and trapped in a structure (minivan and yellow balloon). Morgan showed up to save the day and get them out. We even had a return of Morgan’s gas mask. That’s super interesting to me. We saw him with the mask in 5x01, but never really saw it any other time. So I’m wondering if that little snippet when he first appeared in 5x01 foreshadowed what’s happening now in FTWD.

As I said last episode, there was a foreshadow of Al talking to June about Isabelle. She did that this episode. What she said sounded very much like what we've seen with Daryl after he lost Beth.

June even told Al (speaking of being separated from John) "I felt gone." Read the “gone” theory HERE. In TWD, using that phrase always suggests someone being alive but not in their significant other’s life at the time.

Just like John and June were separated, but neither was dead. Michonne talked about being gone for a long time after she lost her son. She was still alive and going through the motions of living, but this wasn't emotionally or mentally present. Beth said, "You’re gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone." Which means she's not going to die. She simply won’t be in Daryl’s life for a while.

June assured Al that she will see Isabelle again. That's not a stretch since we know Isabelle is with the helicopter people and therefore is not dead. It's pretty good confirmation that some point, Morgan’s group will end up with the helicopter people. And given the parallels between Al/Isabelle and Beth/Daryl, it also suggests that Daryl will see Beth again.

The car runs out of gas (major out-of-fuel theme going on this season) for Dwight and John. John tries to ho-twire a truck. I knew right away it wouldn't start. Every time we seen people successfully hardware cars in TWD, it's been with a red and green wire. The car comes back to life because red and green are the resurrection colors. In this case, he had a red and yellow wire. I immediately thought, "that’s not going to start." And it didn't.

When Alicia was looking for the kids, we saw the same disgusting one with one of its eyeballs popped out several times.

So a lost eye is often part of Sirius symbolism. Remember the one-eyed dog in Alone, and Denise getting the arrow through the eye. And now Father Gabriel being blind in one eye. Alicia saw this walker once and then saw it again. It made her realize she was going in circles before Dylan came to show her the way. In other words, she RETURNED to it.

Then, at the tree house, she fought that same walker. It was that one whose blood she got in her mouth before realizing it was contaminated. So, I’m not sure how to weave all of that altogether, but I think it's important.

Remember we saw the contaminated walkers in S8 during AOW because there was a chemical leak. My fellow theorists and I have also discussed that this might hearken back to the virus and the contaminated walker from S4. Either of those instances might have been foreshadows of this contamination in Fear. If it leads to Beth or ends up being connected, perhaps this walker with the missing eye is a sign that Beth will be connected to this contamination in some way.

And that's why I think it's possible Alicia could be saved. Maybe they’ll find this helicopter group and the group will have a way to save her from the radiation. I honestly don’t know which way it will go. Will be interesting to see, though.

Morgan talks to Grace about Eastman, his mantra about all life being precious, and how you have to redirect your life to live for something else when you can’t for yourself. These are all things we've seen before, especially around Morgan. But for me, it kind of confirmed that Morgan will end up going back to Virginia at some point. In order for his arc come full circle, he needs to return to Rick's group to get his return and perhaps lead Beth back to Daryl.

Then we had the convo between Dwight and John. Definitely my favorite part of this episode. When we saw Dwight’s three rings (his and Sherry’s) laying on his palm, something occurred to me. There are always three of them, and they look exactly like the three rings we see on the helicopter.

I mean, why THREE rings, specifically. Yes, yes, I’m sure it’s because Sherry had both an engagement ring and a wedding band, which isn’t uncommon. But if the writers are specifically just trying to show Dwight and Sherry’s rings, a symbol of their love/marriage, the obvious thing would be to have two rings, not three.

To me, this suggests that Sherry is also with the helicopter people. That's important because, in this scene, Dwight finally realizes Sherry doesn't want him looking for her and she's gone to some other place without leaving him a note. Dwight wants to keep looking for Sherry, but says he'll help get John back to June. Basically, Dwight is being unselfish this point.

He says the most epic TD line ever: “She's alive…Impossible shit happens." Wow! Totally my favorite line of the whole episode. No better way for the writers to tell us that Beth is alive.

I mean, we’ve already seen a million parallels between Daryl and Dwight. And “she’s alive” is the first thing we heard when S5 began. Daryl said it several times to Maggie when they were at Terminus. So to hear Dwight say it now is such a great confirmation!

In addition, something else occurred to me. I’ll talk about this more in tomorrow’s theory, but this also reminded me of how Daryl let Dwight go at the end of S8, and I think that will allow Beth to return to him in some way. I think something similar is happening here.

If the rings Dwight holds are meant to connect to the helicopter group, and Sherry is with them, I’m thinking that by being unselfish and helping John get back to June, that will lead Dwight straight to Sherry. So I’m seeing a definite theme in which it is the characters’ merciful actions that help others live and result in their own, long term happiness.

At the end of the episode, some air raid sirens go off, which suggest they’re out of time and the reactor has already begun melting down. Feels like a MSF situation to me. ;D Thoughts?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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secretpianer · 6 years

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(got a request by @sp-bunny for people finding out about kenny and butters getting together)

Surprisingly, when Kenny starts hanging out less and less with his old group of friends, Cartman is the first to notice. Kenny will catch him glaring suspiciously from across the lunch table, but the comments he makes about going off to get fucked up without them or being a general dick get ignored. The comments don’t bother him, but his weird suspicion does.

“Doesn’t anyone care that Kenny isn’t agreeing to go cheesing with us anymore? What the fuck does he have to do that’s better than cheesing?”

“That was cool in middle school. You’re the only one that still does that, you greasy tub of lard,” Kenny says, not looking up from his lunch. Butters does next to him though, chewing more slowly as he listens. Kenny wishes he didn’t show that he cared so openly, especially to someone as exploitive as Cartman, but it makes Kenny’s chest feel a little fuzzy that he does. It’s just how Butters is.

“Why do you care so much anyways?” Kyle says. “Are you running out of things to bitch about?”

“I’m just saying, he’s acting quiet and sneaky, it’s lame–”

“When is he ever not quiet?”

“Shut the fuck up and let me finish my goddamn sentence for once, you slimy–”

Stan is completely disenchanted from the conversation, picking at his chicken sandwich. Butters leans over to Kenny and whispers as quietly as he can over the bickering.

“Should we leave?”

Kenny makes sure not to look at Butters as he responds. “Not together. Let me leave first, then come meet me out in the back by my truck in ten minutes. We can skip next period if you want.”

Butters does a great job at containing his happy grin as he nods. Kenny leaves, pretending to be annoyed as he grabs his lunch and abandons the table. Nobody looks up when he does, and nobody stops him or says goodbye. He lets that roll off him, knowing that being insulted is a waste of time. It’s why he got together with Butters to begin with– to get away from that psychotic trio of guys.

Butters arrives at his truck in the school’s parking lot exactly ten minutes on the dot later. It’s a shock every time, his willingness to always do what he’s told, and although it occasionally makes Kenny uneasy, he knows for Butters it’s how he was raised to express kindness towards others. Although Butters’ genuine desire to please his boyfriend may come from some scary upbringing, that’s for Butters to approach him with on his own.

“You’re done eating?” Butters asks, first placing his lunch bag inside the truck with Kenny before clumsily pulling himself up and over the back. The bed of the trunk is big enough to host both them and all of his junk, from the propane tanks and spare tire to the soft layout of blankets he keeps for when he takes Butters out to the drop off point at night, where they drink and talk quietly as the cold overlaps the city below them. They can’t be touched by cold or cruelty in this truck; already he can see the tension in Butters’ face melting away as he settles down onto the blanket and crosses his legs.

“Yeah, I ate. Don’t worry,” Kenny says, stopping Butters from offering the rest of his food again. “Go ahead and eat. Can I smoke?”

“Well sure,” he says, picking up his fork, “but what if you get caught?”

“You know the teachers don’t actually care.” Kenny pulls the pack from his pocket, lighting the half that he saved from this morning. After he inhales and breathes out, away from Butters, he says, “You know, I used to smoke a pack of these a day.”

“I remember,” Butters replies, politely covering his mouth with his hand as he chews and speaks. “It was like I’d never see you not smoking. It worried me.”

“You never said anything?”

“I mean, we weren’t, you know,” he drags, looking down, and Kenny knows he’s stopping himself from fidgeting nervously, “dating. I didn’t have any right.”

Kenny wonders about that. Would he have listened if Butters had said something to him then? He’s not sure, since he disregarded everyone else’s advice about cancer or whatever killing him. But now that he thinks of it, what really made him stop is...

“You still helped me,” Kenny brings up, holding his cigarette close to his mouth. “It was after our first kiss.”

A faint blush rises to Butters’ cheeks. He stops eating. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. I know you were trying to be nice, so you never said anything while we were hanging out. I smoked a couple right before I took you to the old storage unit, I was so nervous.”

“You were?”

Kenny grins. “Yeah. The mood was right and all...”

“Uh huh,” Butters says, his face growing pinker.

“...And I leaned in, and it was perfect...”

“Y-Yeah.”

“But then I pulled back, and you were making this face.” Kenny chuckles and Butters sets down his food to hide behind his hands. “You were so grossed out and trying so hard to cover it up but I could see right through you. No more of that, I decided.”

“I still liked it!”

“Really.”

“Um, yeah,” Butters says, folding his hands in his lap. “Maybe it didn’t...taste so good at first...I mean it did! But it was so new, and I was so nervous, and kissing you was really nice but I guess I had it in my dumb head that you’d taste like peppermint and mocha or maybe alcohol or something else super cliché–”

Kenny must’ve started laughing somewhere halfway through because he’s reaching for Butters before his monologue has finished dwindling into a feeble little mumble. The cigarette burns a thin string of smoke between his fingers as he holds Butters’ flushed face in his hands and kisses him lightly on the lips. When he pulls back, Butters’ eyes are shining.

“It’s a happy memory. I wouldn’t want to change it.” He mirrors Butters’ smile as it grows. “Besides, it probably did taste like shit.”

“Haha, kind of,” Butters says. His lower lip catches for a moment under his teeth. “But I mean it when I said I still liked it. And it’s grown on me.”

“Really?” Kenny says, raising his brows.

“Mhm, it sure has.” Butters’ grin is bright and makes Kenny’s stomach swoop. “I like how you taste.”

Kenny drops the cig and his arms come around Butters’ waist before he can stop them. He kisses Butters’ lips firmly, showing him how much his words mean because he could never say it right, and Butters hums as if he understands and slides his soft fingers over the back of Kenny’s neck. They resume a familiar pattern, a push and pull against each other that has Kenny’s toes curling in his running shoes. He whispers Butters’ name and feels his warm sigh as it pours into him like honey. Kenny could kiss him all day, all night, and has tried his best to, would make records of it if he wasn’t so distracted by Butters’ tongue moving sweetly inside his mouth–

“Kenny?”

Their lips make a loud, wet pop as they separate to look at Stan, who is staring at them with his mouth open and his eyebrows lost somewhere near his hairline. Then Kyle appears next to him, the smile that had been on his face from whatever conversation they were having before killed like roadkill when he sees what Stan sees. Kenny doesn’t move, staring between his friends, but he can feel Butters’ encroaching panic in his arms, the need to bolt or implode immediately before something horrible happens.

But in perfect sync, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all say the same word at the same time, not breaking eye contact for a second.

“Cartman.”

Kenny shoves Butters down into his lap as kindly as he can, hiding him from view against the bed of the truck. Butters squeaks and tries to push himself back up, but Kenny rests his hand on his forehead and looks down at him before briefly pressing his index finger to his lips. Butters snaps his mouth shut, nodding solemnly in understanding.

Cartman shows just as Kenny’s plugging the cig back into his mouth and Kyle and Stan resume a chat like nothing. The cold rush of adrenaline pumps through his body as Cartman’s beady eyes flip menacingly between the three of them, clearly insulted to be left out of anything.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing,” Stan says. “Just that Kyle was right about Kenny coming out here to skip all the time.”

“Okay, so?”

“So? So what?” says Kyle. “We were crashing his party. Is this what you do when you’re turning us down all the time? Chain-smoking?”

Kenny shrugs. With his other hand he begins to stroke Butters’ hair, who calms with each light pet.

“Okay...” Cartman throws his hands in the air. “So are we gonna keep staring at each other like dumbasses or are we gonna do something?”

“I’m not hanging around here, it smells like lung cancer,” Kyle says, walking away from the truck.

“Yeah.” Stan follows after him. “Besides, Kenny obviously wants to work on his loner-stoner reputation.”

He quickly turns back to throw Kenny a small, awkward smile, and Kenny mouths thank you. Cartman is too busy watching them go, probably debating on following or dishing more insults. Eventually he bustles after them, shoving himself between the two to poke more fun at Kenny while out of earshot. The sight of Cartman leaving is probably Kenny’s favorite, next to the one in his lap.

“Are they gone?” Butters whispers. When Kenny nods, Butters attempts to sit up, but instead Kenny holds him down and puts out the cigarette before he joins him on the blankets, lying on his side. They’re parallel to each other; Kenny is tempted to slot his leg between Butters’ but resists.

“They found out,” Butters says, his voice small and contained by his fear.

Kenny presses his lips into a thin line.

“But...” he continues, frowning, confused, “they helped us. They helped you.”

Kenny nods.

“Will they tell?”

He thinks about this. It’s hard to imagine Kyle and Stan going out of their way to harm them, but things happen. He couldn’t say. But he gives Butters his most honest answer, scooting closer as he looks at him directly.

“I don’t think so. I think we can trust them.” He adds the next bit quickly. “For now.”

Butters doesn’t seem convinced, but he agrees. He sighs deeply, closing his eyes and scooting himself into Kenny’s chest.

“Well, if they did tell, I’d be ready.”

Kenny rests his chin atop Butters’ head. “Yeah?”

“Yuh-huh. Everyone could know and I wouldn’t really care. Nothing would change.” He pauses. “Would it?”

Kenny imagines the whole school knowing. He can see Cartman making fun, needling like he does, but would anyone else care? No way. And things would continue like normal. If anything he’d be questioned a lot less about what he’s fucking off to do (literally), but that only seems like a plus.

“Nah,” he says, pressing his lips to Butters’ hair and feeling a happy puff of breath against his neck, “it wouldn’t change a thing.”

#sp bunny #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #south park #writing cartman is like eating the skin of a pineapple #i had a lot of fun with this one tho #my poops

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

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OUAT 2X22 - And Straight On ‘Til Morning

Despite all the mourning from the last episode, we’re gonna go straight on ‘til we finish off this season.

...Wanted to make my last pun of the season classy. Now you know what to do.

Press Release The inhabitants of Storybrooke brace themselves for the end when Greg and Tamara detonate the trigger Regina had placed within the curse, with the annihilation of the town and its residents imminent; and Mr. Gold mourns the loss of his son, Bae/Neal. Meanwhile, back in Neverland of the past, Hook discovers his connection to a young Bae after he rescues him from the sea and soon realizes that the Lost Boys are in hot pursuit of the boy. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past I really struggled with how I felt about the past segment. Something about this flashback has always rubbed me the wrong way (Or at least, as much as the two times I’ve watched it can do) and I spent the lesser part of two days wondering why. And I think I finally figured it out.

The actions and broad strokes of this storyline are great, as is admittedly much of the dialogue. I like the bond that forms between Killian and Bae and I like how Killian’s framed. The dialogue is for the most part pretty good and I love all the time we get to spend on the Jolly Roger. However, the thematically heavy lines like “being alone” and “caring only about yourself” are honestly so distracting because Killian’s is blatantly committing revenge on Milah’s behalf and he has a whole crew with him.

Now on one hand, I get it. Especially given Killian’s decision at the end of the flashback, one can argue that Killian’s revenge and the decisions stemming from it are more for his sake than Milah’s. It’s similar to what Regina was doing with Snow and her subjects, where she claimed that after she killed Snow, she’d show them love. On the other hand, as I said before, it’s honestly so distracting and I feel like if the above were the case, there would’ve been more to paint it that way.

Okay, so now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, just remember: The segment is good, but dialogue choices like that separate good from great. The drama between Killian and Bae is one of the most important parts of Killian’s redemption and their bonding provides serious insight into who Killian is as a character. Present First off, I love the way Neal’s “death” was handled. First, let’s talk about the acting. Robert Carlyle continues to be flawless. He shows how Rumple’s overcome with sadness and regret immediately upon hearing the news. Second, I love how he’s paralleled against Henry. While Henry has his mother to lean on and hold (A great if not tragic Swan Believer moment in and of itself), despite being told the news by two people, Rumple’s in the shot where he first takes it in alone and only comforted from a distance. Third, it gets Rumple questioning his own philosophy and is one of the biggest cases of “all magic has a price” being turned on him. It’s nothing short of a spiral and the way he pulls everyone down with him fits the character so well.

I got so many Spongebob Musical feels as I was thinking about the main story here. XD I’m going to explain it when I get to arcs, but I think that the main story does a good job bringing together Emma, Regina, Henry, Snow, and David’s stories. Every emotion here hits and the main story, which seemed to rightly get the most focus, was handled well.

Keep that in mind when I go off here.

”I did it [Kill Cora] because it was easy. It was a mistake.” FUCK THAT NOISE! NO! IT WASN’T EASY! IT WAS ACTUALLY BOTH DIFFICULT IN EXECUTION AND IN ITS AFTER EFFECTS! It was cruel, sure. And I get the guilt, but honestly, it was Cora (An uncontrollable monster) or Rumple (Someone who had been persuaded to do good in the past and could in the future AND had two morality pets to keep him on the straight and narrow). Fuck the noise where this was a wrong decision and that GOD this is the last instance where Snow says something like that! “There were other paths -- harder paths.” AND THEY WOULD’VE RESULTED IN MASS MURDERS ALL AROUND. FUCK! The ONLY good thing about that shitty flashback in “The Cricket Game” was that you supposedly learned that this idea was bullshit and you just threw that idea out like a dirty diaper! FUCK THIS SET OF LINES! It’s especially infuriating because it comes in the middle of a GREAT Snow scene where her optimism and leadership are so well shown!

Finally, What’s interesting to me is how Killian immediately dismisses Emma’s speech about being alone and being part of something by asking “Why are you really doing this?” Bae, being dead and Henry no longer having a father, is the spark that becomes the flame of his redemption. I’m with @sab031794 with the idea that Bae is definitely his turning point, while Emma’s words further the point, something he appreciates. Insights - Stream of Consciousness -Was there ever a concrete answer as to who drew the Milah drawing? Was it Killian? Milah herself? Like one of the people at theme park who paints people? -SMEE!! So by this point, is Smee Killian’s first mate or is he still just a regular crew member? Also, got to hand it to Smee for his faith in Killian. Smee’s a scared dude, so to see him with so much resolve in his voice as he tells Killian that they’ll avenge Milah, it’s so much bigger of a moment! -I didn’t realize how closely this episode borders on child trafficking until now! Dark. -I’ll never quite be over the way Bae’s eyes pop when he tells someone what happened to his father. Powerful! -It’s great seeing Killian piece together the puzzle that’s this new boy and immediately making a plan upon realizing just who he is. -It’s so creepy seeing how having only Lacey to depend on as a morality chain can corrupt Rumple so much. Hurting Henry to save himself at the very least was a point he was torn on when he first found Neal and learned the truth about his and Henry’s relation. But as he sees Henry on the swing, he’s so close to giving in and killing Henry. (Okay, someone write a dark ass fic where this happens. Henry dies and Emma goes crazy trying to figure out if his death was an accident or not. Can you IMAGINE the final confrontation there?!) Also, I refuse to believe it’s a coincidence that it’s David that snaps him out of it. Sheep Bros to the rescue! -Colin acts that last scene in the mine so freakin’ well! Like, less than three minutes later, that’s gonna turn out to be horseshit, but he sells that so believably! -I will say, while I don’t like a lot of platitudes this season, I’m cool with Henry’s “work together” schtick. -David, that was an amazing punch! XD -WHAT AN EXCELLENT REGAL BELIEVER SCENE! Once again, Regina apologizes to Henry and it’s very sincere. She’s not blaming anyone and is saying that it’s she who failed to live up to his standards. And Henry’s reaction does not absolve her, but lets her know that he loves her. THAT is GOOD! -”The things we do for our children.” This is kind of a weird line. -I love how it’s so obvious that this Pan is “him” and they are doing every backflip to make this a killer twist. -Oh My God! Felix is trying to be so menacing and it is just the HAMMIEST thing ever! XD I love it! It’s not appropriate at all to the mood they’re setting, but fuck it! I love it! -Grumpy, that is the best cup I have ever seen! I can’t even blame you for taking it back for Sneezy (And then maybe channel your inner-Stealthy and take it for yourself)! -I’ve been trying to do a count of the number of men in KIllian’s crew. So far, I’ve seen at most six pirates (Killian and Smee included). Does anyone have a better count? -Left is port, right is starboard. I don’t know why, but I always forget it. Hopefully, Captain Hook will be able to help me remember! -It’s interesting to me how Killian, even when he was just using Bae, used a real and vulnerable part of his life to relate to him. It’s great insight into Killian’s life and a subtle nudge in the direction of Killian coming to care for Bae even before the truly touching moment on the scene hits. -I do have to wonder, why does Killian want to live so badly? During “The Outsider,” Killian was more than willing to die so that he could return to Milah, but he wouldn’t have even killed Rumple then (though one could argue that he’d at least leave a black mark on Rumple and Belle’s relationship). Here, he’d be killing Rumple and there’s no sign he care about saving anyone else. -”I’m not your mate.” Give it a season, Davey! -Emma and Regina work brilliantly together here. There’s such a softness to Regina sacrifice and the way Emma tries to fight against what looks to be the inevitable. It’s a great testament to their dynamic. -Wow! The CG for the destruction of Storybrooke is awful! XD -Farewell, Lacey. I hardly knew ye. -Snow, that is not all of Storybrooke. That’s not even a quarter of Storybrooke. There should be a giant ass crowd of people, not just your besties! -The moment when Bae is told the truth of his mother by Killian is so powerful! There’s so much rage, passion, and love, all of it left on on the floor in the scene. -”I’ll track them down in Hell if I have to.” Granted it’s not regarding the same character, but give it a few seasons, Emma! -”There’s no way. I spent a lifetime trying to cross worlds to find my son.” Hindsight makes that line utterly hysterical! -Rumple! Let Belle help! Get some other stooge to cast the protection spell! Belle’s such a good tracker! -Why is this goodbye making me flashforward to Belle’s death?! *bawls* -GOLDEN HOOK WORKING TOGETHER!!! That look they exchange as they understand the map’s destination! YES! I’M FILLED WITH THE POWER OF YESSSSSS! Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? Regina’s Redemption - Regina’s redemption was handled masterfully in this episode. The focus of it was put on Henry. As the inevitability of the end hits her, all she can and does focus on is keeping Henry alive. But that’s not all. Her acceptance of ehr bad reputation being her own fault goes a long way towards washing away the exasperation from the last few episodes away. Her sacrifice works on every level, reinfusing sympathy into Regina without it feeling out of character because of the sharp focus on Henry. Rumple’s Redemption - So like usual, Rumple takes one step back and one step forward, and I felt that it mostly worked. I say mostly because I don’t really get how Lacey attempting to use Bae’s shawl is the turning point for Rumple using the memory potion on Lacey. It’s not like Lacey used the shawl maliciously and she even apologized for it. Was it so she could help him grieve? If so, I wish it came across better. That said, I like the effect that Lacey has been corrupting Rumple, but he realizes that he both needs Belle in her real state and that his thoughts of murdering Henry are awful and need to be shunted. At the same time, he’s not willing to lend a finger to help with the end of the world. Killian’s Redemption - What’s interesting to me is how early on in this episode, Killian is pointed at for not believing in something by Tamara, and when he does turn, Killian himself is one of the most belief-heavy people on the show! Additionally, in the flashback, Killian is so belief-heavy, believing that he can get his revenge on the Dark One and later that he and Bae can fill the empty holes in their hearts. But aside from that, Killian’s turn around is actually pretty simply set up for a sympathetic character. First, it comes through in the decision to go to the heroes to help stop the diamond, knowing they’re more effective. Second, it’s of course the decision to turn his ship around. It represents Killian’s decision to start caring again, allowing himself in a way to be reborn. Emma Accepting Her Parents - “Mom...Dad…” ...Do I even need to say any more? ...Well, apart from the fact that it’s a great closing out of the arc in the beginning of the season, it’s also a PHENOMENAL setup for the events of Season 3. Greg and Tamara - Greg and Tamara kind of get stupid in this finale upon revealing that they don’t know who runs the home office and all the deflectation that takes place when Killian questions them. Really? A group of people who supposedly value science over magic wouldn’t ask who their boss is? Favorite Dynamic Emma and Regina - Emma and Regina are amazing to watch. The episode doesn’t pretend that they’re friends or even that they like each other all that much, but that their bond over Henry is powerful enough that they can overcome those facts and at least start in that direction. For the first time, I feel these two come together as real mothers. They act in Henry’s best interests and that includes saving the other, being honest to Henry, and portraying the other in a good light. Darker Elements (TW: Mention of Child Trafficking) I’ve seen it be said that Killian’s decision to abandon Baelfire was the most evil moment of his life. While I’m not sure how much I believe that, I must point out how this is as close to child trafficking as OUAT can ever get without outright saying it, and that is fucking dark. While trying to examine my own feelings on the issue, I think in terms of the show, because of the fantastical distance of the child trafficking being conducted in an equally fantastical way by a pirate with a hook for a hand and a set of children in cloaks putting a boy in a dinghy to take him to Peter Pan, it’s different than other instances of Darker Elements that I’ve already touched on. If a woman is assaulted or someone is raped by deception, the resonance with the treatment of women and the realities of sexual assault, especially in our modern political climate, makes it difficult to cloud with fantastical elements. And I’m not saying trafficking isn’t, but it’s not something a large portion of OUAT’s audience sees on a constant basis.

Writer A&E are as usual in charge of the finale, and honestly, while well delivered, I expected better. So much of the dialogue works, and that makes the fact that some of the crucial dialogue doesn’t hurt so badly. I feel like they were trying to make square pegs fit in round holes when they talk about things like Killian choosing to be alone and how kiling Cora was easy and and how Rumple decides to turn back Belle because Lacey accidentally used Bae’s shawl as a napkin. it almost overshadows the genuinely good dialogue in other places and I feel like with another draft, those problems would either be minimized or non existent. It pains me how this episode reminds me in a lot of respects more of “The Heart is a Lonely Hunter” (My current least favorite episode of the series) than some of their better episodes like “Broken.” Rating 8/10. I’ve been torn on ratings before, but never quite like this. So much of the Season 2 finale does work, but it does have failings and they chip away. However, I’ve gone on about some of the dialogue choices enough. Let’s talk about the good stuff. This episode is a good culmination point for so many of the arcs started and presents a good jumping off point for them to be furthered in the next season. It’s entertaining to watch emotionally resonates where it counts. It’s dark, but optimistic and has that Once-y feel! Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Swan Fire - We get to see some pretty sad and yet hopeful Swan Fire stuff. Emma is barely able to mourn Neal’s loss, but when she tells Henry and Killian the truth, you really feel the grief she’s going through. And then Neal’s alive! Swan Queen - It was so great seeing Emma and Regina working together! You really feel for the emotional bond they’ve formed as they fight off the diamond and it’s gotta be said that there’s a serious weight to the fact that the two of them together managed to fight off something that neither thought possible. Captain Swan - I feel like Emma and Killian really get their deserved start here. Emma not only tries to get her bean back, but tries to invite him to the hero squad with as much effort as she can given all else on her plate. And while it initially doesn’t work, Emma’s speech does find its resonance with Killian through remembering of his love for Bae. Rumbelle - My thoughts on how Rumple decided to use the potion aside, the moment where Belle comes back and they kiss is beautiful and heartwarming, as is their goodbye at the docks. Grumpy Beauty - Grumpy went out of his way as they were all gonna die to get another memory potion to restore Belle! That is so cute!!! I love this ship!!! There’s also such a real feeling of sacrifice as Rumple sees Belle off before his trip to Neverland. ()()()()()()()()() Oh My God! Season 2 is completed!!! Well, sort of! Like last season, I’m going to do my overview where I talk about everything from the quality of the season itself to the best dynamics to who was the best writer! I hope you’ll join me for it because it’s gonna be a lot of fun!

Thank you all for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales! Couldn’t have done it without you!

See you next time!

Season 2 Tally (194/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (58/60)* Jane Espenson (44/50)* Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (40/50)* David Goodman (24/30)* Robert Hull (24/30)* Christine Boylan (26/30)* Kalinda Vazquez (28/30)* Daniel Thomsen (18/20)* * Indicates that their work for the season is complete Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 2x22 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat #tw: mentions of child trafficking

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theskyexists · 3 years

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Revolution of the Daleks

im actually really happy with this, Yaz not being able to let go. Ryan and Graham having practice. i could wish a million things had happened with Ryan (!) and Graham before but this is as good as it’s gonna get from this point

i like the way they’re trying to imitate the Doctor explicitly

‘this is hard, innit?”

‘have you had work done?’ ‘you can talk!’ (that sounded so Nine and Jack!!! hahahaa) edit: it was litearlly Ten and Jack

reference!

DOCTOR AND JACK HUG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Leo......is a very cynical representation of an amoral scientist.

How the hell is Trump-analogue the sane one here lolololol. but he’s dumb enough to leave incinerating the thing to Leo.

what an idiot - opening the casing. im not really into how the narrative is basically like: trump is right about stupid scientists! hah...

the banter between jack and the doctor is so good? imitation of the original product clearly but still GOOD

love how the Doctor instantly goes - i need to go see the fam

she was in space jail for decades (she doesn’t mention the decades)

THAT MOMENT OF MATERIALISATION WAS SO GOOD

noooooooooooooooo OUCH - ouch! YAZ!

‘im sorreh’

SHE DOESN’T MENTION HOW SHE’S BEEN LOCKED IN PRISON FOR FUCKING DECADES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my god Doctor. give them some perspective PLEASE

Jack’s ‘whoops’ is hilarious if you consider his history with teh Doctor

Ryan - god i love Ryan.

Actually didn’t like Graham’s response to Jack. narratively, homophobic

absolutely despise the orange lettering

this episode really goes to show that Chibnall thinks structurally extremely slowly. he picks threads up from ages ago. and then he does do something decent with it. does this mean that the longer he keeps on the better it will get?

i think it’s pretty fuckin hilariously sad though that the companions are once again relegated to couriers - they note that they can’t do stuff on their own (even though the season finale last time gave them ‘Doctor-like’ sequences even if they never managed to impact the story of the Doctor herself - so i guess we’ve gone backwards in this arc) and then they CAN’T do stuff on their own and the Doctor comes in

it’s not the Doctor OR the companions Chibs. and if these companions are just incapable - make that a point! that would be a wonderful contrast to Clara

Woah Jack fuckin infodump

aahahhaa

i do love Yaz’s response. this seems to build up to some final DESERVED - i need to know MORE doctor - now.

‘oh she’s good’ - that’s such a RTD thing to say. chibs just directly copy-pasting a lot here. this is acceptable if he can give it new meaning. inverse meaning

why even drop two people off - whats the Doctor gonna do - nothing?

i actually like the new dalek design very much. oh confront Robertsen? i still can’t get used to the explicit task division set-up - even if this time it was used for characterisation

i - adore. this talk between Jack and Yaz. because it’s Yaz accessing so much shit from the Doctor’s past suddenly. and then it becomes extra clear that Jack’s and the Doctor’s connection was kinda romantic in whatever way - and it’s directly paralleled with Yaz. that romantic tragic attachment - doomed to hurt. (i.e. my fav)

god mandip gill is yeeting this out of the park. I LOVE IT. i love these lines. ‘we’re the lucky ones yaz’ - graham also told her something like this in demons of the punjab.

‘the joy, is worth the pain’ - is it? Jack thinks so - still! my god.that’s so tragic - so beautiful. so much rtd feel here.

jezus chibnall - fuckin sonic gun even???? ‘thanks, that’s it??’ hahahahaha. ok you did good. nobody’s ever impressed at it. LOL DAMN YAZ

‘they’re growing daleks’ - this secondary reveal doesn’t matter bc no reveal would have been a genuine reveal anyway

the new prime minister givin her speech and the doctor explaining daleks should have had snappier editing - specifically the music should not have gone back to simple british empire horns or whatever- but should have had an undertone of dalek in there

really! ALIEN REFERENCES! MY GOD CHIBNALL!!! everybody was thinking it but you did it.... i guess it’s done now. sexual politics wise i’d say Robertsen might have been a much better choice.

guns and explosives will solve everything!!!!!! oh chibnall

i love this lil talk between Ryan and teh Doctor - because it goes to show that the Doctor actually really cared. it would be fitting if they all left now actually lol - that would be nice and dramatic. Jodie is doing great on the acting here - i can FEEL the warning messages in her brains going AAAAAAAAAAA im losing this one!!!!

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Ryan - oh finally - finally this is coming out. calling her out, ‘how do you feel about that’‘ - the counsellor

‘things change, all the time, and they should, cos they have to’ - oh ffffff and ryan inverts things on her. oh i would have loved that if they’d done the extensive groundwork for it. now it just feels like a final death knell - the Doctor paternalised in classic Doctor words by her pseudo-son (but not really bc we never got it for real). couldn’t chibnall have left that for a dude actor ....

i love Jodie’s acting here my GOD. the mouth, the thin lips. The Doctor’s thinking - ah ive lost him - he doesn’t need me at all. ‘always’ this is Ryan’s motif actually. Yaz said the same thing about him.

LOL and Leo reveals himself only when the bombs have been planted and the Doctor’s arrived

lol ok that’s a pretty grisly reveal chibs, BUT would have been cooler if Yaz somehow found out herself and not through villain exposition. Robertsen really is VERY good comic relief here ‘this is a pr disaster’

that was actually a GOOD use of the Doctor going hmmm what’s wrong here and Yaz going well maybe this

ok but because chibnall has such dumb and obvious twists all the time it makes the Doctor always look dumb for slowly stumbling through a self-deprecating explanation. the least authoritative doctor ever my god.... like she could feel the shock to her system coming and that’s why she was born so un-self-assured. hate that shit. not what i wanted

the recon dalek used ultra viiolet light to teleport. lol. but then the Doctor is too late to stop it. hmm a bit uh..........idk conflicted about all the poc getting exterminated at the border...is this irony???

so how is the Dalek electrocuting Leo with nothing but a shitty slime body? also don’t like that. especially because Robertsen is getting away scot free again probably

‘no weapons’ (what about the bombs - couldn’t jack have interjected with knowledge on that shit - before the daleks teleported mysteriously????) ‘no time to think’ - Doctor i thought it was established that you could think at 3000 miles per fraction of a second.

forget it. forget it forget it forget it. chibnall and I will never agree on this. if the Doctor hits rock bottom here - then it better be a companion that picks her back up. nope, she gets back up herself. best job they’ve done so far on that i admit but then they cut immediately to a leisurely discussion as people are getting gunned the fuck down in the streets.

ah, shes inviting the original fleet to destroy these daleks which are ‘corrupted’

why..................did they explain the whole plan before it happened. WHY. OH WHY! is Chibnall so structurally BORING!!!!!!!!!!!!

this would have WORKED as a GOOD twist if he’d made it an actual fucking TWIST. please chibs....let me at the scripts....please....

the stakes are also not well-established because none of the companions said: oh shit but we could barely get rid of ONE, now there’s thousands!

‘they shouldn’t know im here’ *materialises TARDIS right in front of hundreds of Daleks*

this whole scene between the two sets of Daleks would have been great if we hadn’t been spoiled

is................Robertsen gonna pay for his arrogance - ignoring the Doctor? or is the Doctor’s ineffective ‘get back here’ going to be the last we see of this. Betraying the Doctor?

Chibs if you dont make this guy pay i will give up

Ryan stepping up to save Earth. hmmhm.

Jack: w-wait are you okay with this?

Jack she’s been sending these idiots in without supervision for no reason for ages. she just did it with Yaz?? but its a nice era-contrast - even if the meaning is muddled

So i guess Jack’s just got hundreds of bombs on him? at all times?

who the fuck doctors the script

why............did Chibnall regress Graham’s and Ryan’s relationship into awkwardness in their final episode. that’s just plain sad.

inversely, NOW would have been good to know the second plan because then we would have known why the Daleks knowing about the Doctor is bad SPECIFICALLY

‘even if we blow up the ship, theres still SAS daleks marauding through earth’s skies’ she says, like she wasn’t supposed to have a plan to stop them ??????

‘right’ she said, walked off, and then didn’t think of a plan

‘orrr.... you’re gonna have to trust me on this one Yaz’

this is such a TERRIBLE and unsubtle and stupid way to segue into discussing the Doctor’s problems with disappearing

WHY IS CHIBNALL HAVING THEM SAVE ROBERTSEN - fuck this! FUCK THIS!

wow - that’s really shit of the Doctor - just telling a TARDIS to destroy itself completely......

really chibnall.....really you’re gonna let this man get away LIKE THIS. I’m done. i’m done. im sorry but this is not something to just PLAY with. letting a Trump guy get the better of the female Doctor not once, but twice? this makes me so sad. and im done. it’s just insult after insult. he just doesn’t GET it. this is too close to my heart. this is not a GAME. this is supposed to be a fucking POWER FANTASY - and he can’t even fucking make it that. he can’t discuss the problems with power because he can’t even FATHOM the Doctor as a power fantasy in this form. fuck. this.

‘can you believe that’ - ‘yeah i can’

thanks - thanks for this political hopelessness on top of the real shit Chibnall. that’s not what Doctor Who is about - that’s the starting point - not the fucking end state

i know it’s supposed to be related to Ryan and how it’s quite subtly about making the world a better place politically bc it’s going to hell - and Robertsen is definitely coming back because chibnall just does that shit

but

if he wanted to do that he should have had Ryan and Robertsen have a confrontation this episode

a hug. a HUG. my god. so what was the absence of hugs all about then? now im grumpy about THAT. fck

this is good acting, good lines, good normal ending to Graham’s time in the TARDIS, it ties in just a little bit with his family arc. but it’s not particularly coherent - guess that;s life ?

‘it’s ok to be sad’ - cut to black. that was good

so the conclusion is that all they needed to be like the Doctor is a little gadget. this is deeply incoherent but it appeals to me anyway. and i dont really understand how Robertsen features into protecting the planet from aliens then

what is this weird Ryan speech lol. Tosin did incredibly good on making that seem halfway organic.

ok so Grace appearing made me tear up lol

#my stuff #vidi #dw

0 notes

mnranger5 · 5 years

Text

Big Bass Bash 2019, The Boat Drama is Finally Over, Lake of the Ozarks, MO, 4/26/19 – 4/29/19

4/26/19

Early in the drive to Lake of the Ozarks, Aaron and I timidly joked about how it wouldn’t be our spring fishing trip if we didn’t have some kind of drama. There is so much truth to that… From blown out bearings, to malfunctioning trolling motors to dead batteries, we’ve experienced heartbreak on our trips that we’ve almost become accustomed to. As we rolled down I-35 to Des Moines, something big was brewing…

Rewind to four weeks ago. I pulled the Ranger out of the garage from it’s LONG winter slumber. It was going to Lighthouse Motorsports for an oil change and tune up on the motor. In the fall of 2018, I started having a weird issue where I’d lose power once I got up on plane. I need that that fixed ASAP, before the spring trip to Missouri. Lighthouse took about 2 weeks to finally diagnose the problem as a bad fuel filter.

T – minus two weeks until the fishing trip. I picked up the Ranger from Lighthouse and went straight to the lake. She fired up beautifully. I idled through the Crystal Lake channel and gave her some throttle. Immediately, I began experiencing the same power loss. Nothing had been fixed. In fact, it had gotten worse. After limping one lap around the lake, the 2009 Mercury killed multiple times, even while idling. I recall texting Aaron that I am sure the boat would be fine, but deep down, I wasn’t so sure…

Back to Lighthouse. I was worried. After some more testing Lighthouse thought the problem might be a bad fuel pump. Getting a new pump from Mercury could take several weeks due to it being on backorder. This was a big problem. They continued testing it at the shop while I contemplated a contingency plan.

Then Dyan opened a real can of worms: “What if you bought a new boat?” Oh boy. I quickly created a Craigslist/Marketplace add for my boat and furiously scoured the internet in search of a new boat. But I am particular. It had to be perfect. The exact color, features and most of all, the right price. About the time I came to the conclusion that I’d need to order a boat if I wanted to get all the options I was looking for, Lighthouse called me back. They think the motor problem was just a bad $10 spark plug? Serious?

Four days until departure, I picked up the Ranger and took her back to Crystal Lake. She fired up without missing a beat and raced around lake sounding better than ever in the 7 years I’ve owned her. Whew. Crisis avoided. Hopefully we can finally avoid some drama on the fishing trip…. For fun, I decided to leave my boat ad on the internet, just to see what kind of offers I might get...

The drive into the Ozarks was long and uneventful (in a good way). We did make a mandatory stop at Bass Pro in Columbia for lures and licenses as well as a lunch stop which included this humongous 16” party sandwich.

Aaron catches a fish that size on Saturday or Sunday, we will be driving home with some money! As we continued the drive into Columbia, I told Aaron about the motor debacle and how it kind of “opened the door” for me to look at new boats and possibly sell my boat. By this point in the drive I already had 3 people who saw my listing and had requested test drives when I returned from the trip. In addition, I had a guy named “Greg”, who wanted me to cancel all my test drives because he was planning to buy it, sight unseen, no test drive necessary, as soon as I got home. Okay, whatever you say Greg…

At 4:00, we arrived at Village Marina and dumped the boat into the lake. It was bluebird sky with light winds and temps well into the 70’s. Just a perfect afternoon for fishing. And it wasn’t long before we began catching either. Aaron and I both pulled in a couple of small bass each on the shakey head and drop shot. About an hour into fishing Aaron hooked up with this chunker casting a shakey head up on the shoreline.

We worked Jobson Hollow cove for a couple of hours before venturing toward the channel.

Out near the primary points, we came across this monster long-nose gar. It may have wound up in the boat a bit untraditionally, but no doubt, what a cool looking fish to see up close.

This gar must have been nearly 40” long and close to 10 pounds. Had I known the long-nose gar had teeth like these, I probably would not have been so eager to have my hand up near its huge mouth. Yikes!

Once in the channel we actually had really good luck picking up a half dozen bass on soft plastics, including these couple of short ones.

Once again, drop shot (4” pumpkin dreamshot) and shakey head (7” black & blue ribbontail) were really on fire.

But, with BBQ ribs, au gratin potatoes, baked beans and Texas toast being served up hot at home, we blew across the glass-like lake to get some food in our bellies!

And to top it off, home made chocolate chip cookies. We’re eating good now!

4/27/19

5:30AM: Alarm clocks went off. As Aaron and I contemplated our gameplan for the day, there were scattered thunderstorms in the area. We took refuge under the covered dock, staying dry from the downpour.

The plan was to be the first boat on the Shady Oaks Resort cove just to the north of mom & dad’s house.

We felt like our best chance to get a good fish in the morning would be working as much un-fished water as possible. Then once other boats move in, and we’re no longer the first boat making casts on a particular area of water, it could be time to look elsewhere. At 6:30, we took our first casts in the cove. By 6:35, thunder boomed above use, and lightening magnificently lit up the sky. And that was that.

We made our way back over to the dock and decided to wait out the storm. I can deal with a lot on the water – cold, wind, snow and rain – but I don’t take any chances with lightening. So instead, while other anglers braved the heavy thunderstorm, Aaron and I made our way inside for quite possibly the best breakfast sandwiches being served on the lake.

As we conversed with mom and dad over breakfast, the rain pelted the metal dock just beyond the deck. We were pretty lucky to have the comfort and convenience of 5 star accommodations and hospitality while all the other anglers were getting soaked and cold. But, at least one of those anglers braving the elements weighed in a 7.93lb bass within the first hour of the tournament. As Josh always says, “You gotta risk it to get the biscuit!” This guy was risking some serious storms for a giant fish! And it ended up being worth it. That fish would go on to win the $100,000 Big Bass prize for the tournament.

Finally, around 7:30, Aaron and I were able to get out on the water under some light rain. But it didn’t last long. The cold and rain gave way to warm sunshine within the hour. We fished the cove we had intended to start in, as well as a couple other bays in Jobson Hollow, picking up a couple of VERY short fish.

Although the forecast was calling for extreme winds, at the moment, they were very light. We made our way across the channel and began fishing main channel points at the Village of Four Seasons. Aaron started chucking the Alabama Rig (Chandelier Rig) and almost immediate hooked up with this largemouth who was parked right on the shoreline.

We continued deeper into Four Seasons when the wind suddenly kicked up. And it was fierce. Sustained winds were 25mph out of the SE with gusts between 40-50mph. It seemed like the winds in the channel were just as bad as the winds in the coves, so Aaron and I braved the rough waters and fished the rock ledges at mile marker 2. I tried my best to keep the boat on a parallel line between us and the wall with about 30 feet of spacing. Even though we were super close to the wall, the boat was situated in 40-70 FOW. We were casting right up on the wall and slowing letting it fall down the shear cliff. We picked up a flurry of fish, but none of them biggin’s.

We were getting pounded by the wind, so we decided to push back across the channel. I could never have prepared myself for such a bumpy and chaotic ride. While the Ranger did fine slamming into the 3 foot waves, I broke the tip on one of my St. Croix rods, nearly lost another (if not for Aaron’s miraculous save) and broke the mount on my front trolling motor. Uh oh, Greg is not going to be happy about that!

Back in Jobson Hollow, we desperately tried to find some quieter water, in the deepest parts of the cove we could find. Unfortunately, the only fish swimming around there were the smallest fish in the lake.

We finished the day with not much to show for it except some sun and wind burn.

We buzzed over the The Boathouse at Village Marina where we met up with Mom, Dad and Brianna for a couple of cold drinks before dinner.

The Boathouse is definitely my new favorite watering hole on the lake!

And little did we know, the feast that awaited us at home was fit for a king.

Yep, that is tenderloin roast beef with mash potatoes and green beans. Off. The. Charts. I am pretty sure I rolled off to my room directly from the dinner table.

4/28/19

Aaron and I were pretty confident in our approach to catch fish on Day 1, so we planned to continue it. After all, we had caught WAY more fish than any of the other anglers we spoke to, so no need to change it up. All we needed was a little luck that one of those bites was a 5+ pounder.

Once again, we started in my parent’s cove. This time working the point in our first casts. I was pitching a drop shot while Aaron bounced a shakey head along the bottom. On my first cast. I got bit and reeled in this feisty little two pounder with my parent house in the background.

A great way to start the day. Made the windy, 40 degree morning a bit more bearable. We cast everything in the tacklebox over the next two hours, not picking up a single nibble. We worked way deep into the cove, which was packed with boats casting the spawning flats and pre spawn staging areas. But we couldn’t muster another bite.

With only a single non-prize-worthy fish to show for the morning, we headed home for a hearty breakfast which was made to order! Aaron went with the omelet, while I opted for the ham and eggs!

This is like staying at an all-inclusive property! Eat and drink whatever we want, whenever we want. We feasted, warmed up, regrouped, and figured out a new game plan for the rest of the day.

Aaron and I made our way to the shorelines of Birdsong Hollow. We cast up and down this cove for nearly two hours picking up only one short fish. We then changed directions and headed out to the choppy main channel. We knew we’d get beat up in the big surf, but we felt like it gave us our best chance for catching a pre-spawn swamp donkey. I was throwing the biggest bait I have, the YUM Flash Mob Jr, rigged similar to Aaron’s presentation yesterday. Casting it on my 7’ heavy rod with 80lb braid, I was probably going to throw out my shoulder - but it would be worth it if we got a big strike. Around noon, we got a strike, just not the giant we were looking for.

About the same time, Aaron hooked up with a fish on his spinnerbait. The way this fish was spazzing in the water made it apparent it wasn’t a bass. Instead, it was a nice little channel catfish.

We continued fishing the afternoon jumping from one spot to the next. We worked a couple back creeks in Jackson Branch Cove as well as the rip rap around the Hawaiian Island. Finally we made the trip back into Jobson Hollow where we finished the day pitching the docks around Village Marina.

While I was getting hung up on submerged dock cables on nearly every cast, Aaron was busy catching this bass in front of the waterfall. A good way to end the day.

We loaded the boat up at Village, and headed out to the Grand Glaize Park for the awards ceremony. Finally, the sun was starting to warm things up, and attendance was much better this year than last. I’d guess about 300 people were there which represents about 5% of the total anglers in the tournament.

The 7.93lb bass hung on to win the event and was caught on a Crock-o-gator jig. Rounding out the top four was a 7.11, 7.06 and 6.83. Once again, these fish were caught using the same presentation Aaron and I used at various times thought the weekend. Spinnerbait, shakey head (w/ 10” worm) and jig. All it took was to drop the right bait on the right size fish at the right time. Just as it happened to them, it could have just as easily happened to us. That’s what makes this tournament so special. Anybody can win on any given cast!

Unfortunately for us, gas money was not offered for MN anglers this year. Instead they gave it to Colorado, California, Michigan and South Dakota. But in an unexpected turn of events, my name was called for an early bird registration prize. It was worth $500!!!

That night, we once again feasted. Homemade Momma-cotti, salad and garlic toast. To. Die. For.

Although the tournament weather left a bit to be desired, it was an absolute blast fishing the in the Big Bass Bash and staying with my parents again. I can’t think of anything I’d change with the hospitality, except, maybe Mom could churn up some homemade ice cream next time. Haha!

And while we were fishing, Brianna, Nana and Grandpa didn’t have much for downtime.

They spent the weekend sharing milkshakes, mini-golfing, playing at Minor Mike’s arcade, Dog Patch USA, and cooking for us fishermen. And lots of Cooper time!

They even made me this sweet apron with all my favorite things!

The 2020 Big Bass Bash is April 18 & 19, 2020. I’ve already got it on my calendar! No way I’d miss out on another trip to see Nana and Grandpa with my best fishing partners!

4/29/19

The drive home seemed WAY quicker. Aaron and I continued to joke about Greg, who had contacted me several times throughout the weekend about the boat. He was hot for my boat, and needed it today. I told Greg I wouldn’t be home until the afternoon but he was welcome to come by and see it this evening. He told me, “I am not coming by to see it, I am coming by to buy it.” Okay Greg! Greg claimed he had “17K, cold, hard, cash.” I’ll believe it when I see it.

During the bumpy seas on Saturday, I lost one of my Humminbird Gimbal mounting screws. It’s currently somewhere 100’ underwater in the Ozarks. Greg probably wouldn’t be happy about this! We stopped quick at Bass Pro in Des Moines so I could pick up a new one. Unfortunately, they were out of stock of the $10 screw, but the guy working behind the fish finder counter offered me a free extra one he had! Are you serious? Bass Pro just gets better and better every time we stop in. Around 4PM, we pulled up to the house and Aaron went on his way. Brianna and I had a date at the car wash to clean up the filthy boat.

Later that evening, Greg did indeed show up to the house. He gave the boat about a 30 minute lookover before stating he wanted to buy it. The whole thing was surreal. Was I really selling my boat? I hadn’t even stopped to consider that if I went through with this, it would be the first time in seven years I wouldn’t be boat owner on fishing opener.

Sure, that boat has been a thorn in my side and caused me more drama on the water than I care to mention. But the happiness that little Ranger has brought to my life has been priceless. I was blessed to find that perfect little boat 7 years ago in Indiana. At the time, I paid $16,000 for a three year old boat with 11 hours on the motor (the MSRP was $26,345).

We drew up some quick paperwork and Greg made good on his claim by throwing down $17,000 in cold, hard, cash, onto to deck of the boat. Yep, my little investment in floating happiness, netted me $1,000 more than what I paid for the boat in 2013. There is no doubt, the Ranger brand holds it’s value! In less than an hour, the transaction was completed. I handed Greg the keys to the boat and asked him to send me pictures every now and then. We hooked up the Ranger to Greg’s truck and he cautiously pulled out of the driveway, as I had done so many times in the past. I watched from the driveway as he towed my baby away. It was a very sad moment. No more Ranger.

But it also meant, no more DRAMA! And even better, it was time to start shopping for a new boat! Stay tuned.

0 notes

icanneverbesatisfied · 7 years

Text

Burned- Part Three(Marliza Fic)

Note: I love you if you’ve stuck around this far. You’re great.

Word Count: 5285(why am i like this)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, alcohol, and being a terrible sister

Tags: @secretschuylersister @butlinislin @living-in-a-whale @linmanuclmiranda @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens @maybe-mikala @ham4fan-fiction @steiiarrs

“But where exactly do we look?” I asked, propping my elbows on my knees.

“Anywhere. Eliza is… unusual, and,” Peggy stopped, as if she was searching for a word. The smirk never left her face. “I’m not sure if there’s a word for it.”

“Go on,” I urged her, and she bit her lip.

“Almost none of her clues have seemed to link up until you look at them side-by-side, or until you find the very last of her clues.”

“Enigmatic,” I said, and Peggy nodded gratefully.

“But, none of her clues quite made sense when you looked at them apart. She jumped from one extreme to another without explanation until they were put together in full.”

“Interesting,” I remarked. “Where does she usually put clues?”

“Anywhere and everywhere,” Peggy answered, raising her eyebrows. Her eyes were glittering intelligently, lighting their brown and crystallizing the colour.

“Can we start in her room?”

Peggy tensed, the corners of her mouth pulling down. “Likely not.”

“What?” I asked. “I’m sure Eliza wouldn’t mind at this point-”

“It’s not that,” Peggy interjected. “My lovely father has locked her room and flushed the key down the toilet.”

“What about her window?” Peggy stopped, scrunching her eyebrows together.

“I didn’t consider that,” Peggy said. “I haven’t climbed that tree since Angelica fell out of it.”

“That was scary– for all of us.” It had been. Even though I had been in my room, Eliza’s shouts had drifted through my open window. Angelica was eleven, Eliza was two weeks away from turning ten, and Peggy had still been eight. They had been too high in the tree, and a branch had snapped. Angelica lost her footing, and plummeted to the ground. When she didn’t get up, Eliza jumped out of the tree– something that should’ve broken her leg or ankle, but didn’t– and sprinted to get their parents.

“Mom was still alive when it happened. I remember her sobbing,” Peggy said offhandedly. “Dad was more calm about it– he is a doctor, so that seemed to kick in. Mom, she stayed at home to raise us, so one of her girls being hurt like that– she didn’t have any special training.” I could vaguely remember Catherine crying, Eliza and Peggy clinging to her.

“They said that Angelica shouldn’t’ve lived. They said she should’ve died from the impact, but she didn’t,” Peggy said, and I knew by the set in her jaw that she was ready to move on from the subject.

“We should get to your house and get into Eliza’s room,” I suggested, standing up and pushing my hair away from my face. “Before your dad gets home.” Peggy nodded, getting up from the chair.

We walked down the stairs, and I scribbled a quick note on a loose piece of paper to tell my parents that I was going to Peggy’s. I may not have been sharing the whole story, but it was enough of a truth to keep them from being suspicious.

We walked across the street, and walked up to the tree. Peggy took a deep breath, before stepping onto it first. I followed after her as soon as she was high enough, reusing her foot and handholds. Soon enough, we had pulled ourselves onto the blue shingled roof, and walked carefully across it.

She pushed at the window, and it, mercifully, opened fluidly. She pulled herself in, and I followed, looking around Eliza’s room.

The walls were painted a pretty blue, with pictures hanging on the walls and pinned to a cork board. Her bed was pushed against one wall, a dresser perpendicular to it. Parallel to the bed, a heavy desk was set against the wall with a matching chair, a colourful cushion resting on it. Pinned to the wall above the desk was a huge map of the United States, next to it a map of New York. Pins were pushed into both maps, in two different colours.

“I don’t remember either of these maps being here,” Peggy remarked, walking towards the desk and running her fingertips over it. “But I haven’t been in here in weeks.”

“The tacks are two different colours– green and red,” I pointed out. Peggy looked at it again.

“Wait,” she said. She climbed on top of the desk, crouching down. “There’s a pin in Honolulu– we went there as a family when Eliza was seven. Oh, and another in Los Angeles. That was two years ago.” Peggy looked over the map again. “Little Rock. Indianapolis. Houston. These are all places that we’ve visited, except,” Peggy ran her fingers over the map. “Ooh, I’ve never been to Chesapeake Bay, but Eliza has. It’s marked with a green tack.”

“So, places she’s visited are green, places she hasn’t are red,” I inferred. “And since the rest of the map isn’t covered in red tacks, we have to assume that the red pins are marking places she wants to visit.”

Peggy pointed at me, smiling approvingly. “Good one, you have to be right.” She moved on, looking over the map of New York.

“Yeah, Manhattan, Brooklyn. These pins are skinnier, so it’s probably for precise places. Like the Statue of Liberty, it’s marked with a green pin. We’ve been there, all of us.”

I look back over the New York map, and my eyes caught on something. “Pegs, this tack is yellow.” She looked up, immediately spotting the yellow pin.

“I… don’t know where that is,” she said, and looked at it again. “There’s not even a name of the town or tourist trap that’s pinned there.”

I looked at it again, looking at the places around it. Suddenly, it clicked. “That’s the campground,” I announced, and Peggy turned to me.

“You mean the one that’s no longer in commission?” Peggy asked, looking me in the face. “The one you two burned those letters at?”

“Yeah, see where it’s at?” Peggy looked again, and realization dawned on her face.

“There’s something there. Has to be.” Peggy looked me in the eye, and cracked a ginormous smile. She pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms snugly around my neck. “I’m so glad you agreed to trust me, I just want my sister back,” she whispered, before pulling away and hopping off of Eliza’s desk.

“How soon can we go to the campgrounds?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and looking at me intently.

“I can’t go during a school night,” I said, and Peggy frowned.

“What about a school day?” Peggy suggested, a cunning smirk slowly replacing the frown.

“Wouldn’t we be, y'know, in school?”

“Not if we skip. I’ve done it before,” she said plainly. “Come on, it won’t kill you.” I weighed the options in my head, making a mental list of pros and cons as Peggy gave me her best puppy eyes.

“Okay, yeah. Let me talk to Sarah and Quinn about it, they’ll want to come.”

“I’ll make a rebel out of you yet, Lewis.” Peggy said.

I called Sarah, and she picked up almost immediately. “We’re skipping school tomorrow,” I said.

“Who’s we’re?”

“You, me, Peggy-”

“Okay,” Sarah agreed. “I’ll tell Quinn.”

“You only agreed because of Peggy, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I could hear the smirk in her voice, and I chuckled.

“Alright, be sure to let Quinn know. Tell her it has to do with Eliza.”

Sarah didn’t reply for a second, then she said, “I want you to know, that I nodded like you could see me.” And hung up.

I had no clue how I was going to get out of going to school. I decided that it was probably best to convince my mom that I was at school instead of at the campgrounds.

She dropped me off, and I immediately spotted Peggy’s car parked in the parking lot. It look like Peggy was still in it, and I walked over, knocking on the window.

“Get in, we have to pick up Sarah and Quinn,” she said, after rolling the window down. I opened the door, and sat down in the passenger seat.

“Where are they?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt before Peggy drove off.

“They’re at Quinn’s house. They decided to officially get excused from school, instead of going the route you and I did,” she said, and licked her lips. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Is Sarah a good person?” She asked, hesitation in her tone as she stared at the road.

“Can you clarify your meaning?” I asked, scrunching my eyebrows together.

“I mean exactly what I asked. Is she a good person?”

“She’s a bit… different, but she’s definitely a good person,” I answered. “Why?”

“She sort of asked me out,” Peggy answered. “And I told her I’d think about it ‘cause I haven’t got a clue if she’s some sort of axe murderer.”

“I promise she’s not an axe murderer.”

“That’s relieving.” Peggy pulled up in front of Quinn’s house, and we walked in.

“Quinn, we’re here!” She emerged from the living room, Sarah directly behind her.

“Hi, Peggy,” Sarah said, waving sheepishly. She blushed a furious shade of red when Peggy waved back, smiling brightly at her.

“Okay, we have to get to the camp grounds and scour the area for clues. I’ll drive,” I said, and Peggy tossed me the keys. Quinn sat in the passenger seat, leaving Sarah and Peggy to sit together in the back.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Peggy announced that she was exhausted. “I spent all night looking at her maps on the walls, I only got a few hours of sleep.”

“Take a nap,” I suggested. “It’s your car.”

Peggy looked at Sarah, “do you mind?” She asked, tilting her forehead towards her.

“Not at all.” Peggy rested her head on Sarah’s shoulder, taking her glasses off and closing her eyes. Not long after, Sarah’s eyes fluttered shut and she drifted off, her cheek resting against the top of Peggy’s head.

I noticed Quinn’s eyebrows fly up in my peripheral vision, and had to suppress a laugh at her reaction. “How did that even happen?”

“Beyond my limited knowledge,” I answered. We spent the rest of the ride in silence, attempting to let Sarah and Peggy sleep peacefully. We pulled up to the campgrounds, and I stopped the car, taking the keys out of the ignition. We turned to look back at Sarah and Peggy. They were in much the same position as the had been, Peggy’s head resting on Sarah’s shoulder, Sarah leaning against her ever so slightly.

“They look very cute,” I pointed out, and Quinn nodded. “I don’t want to wake them up.”

“I don’t want to wake them, either.”

“Not it,” I whispered, and Quinn groaned. She reached back, hitting Sarah on her knee, and she startled awake.

“Whosawha?” Sarah muttered intelligently, and blinked. “Why did you wake me up?” She asked, giving us an accusatory glance.

“Because we’re at the campgrounds. Get Peggy up,” I said, turning around and opening the door, Quinn mirroring my movements. Eventually, Peggy and Sarah emerged from the car, Peggy’s glasses back on her face.

“What’re we looking for, exactly?” Sarah asked, stretching the sleep out of her limbs.

“Anything that wouldn’t belong in a campground,” Peggy answered, before scrunching up her face. “And maybe even stuff that would be found in a campground. Just, anything that seems interesting.”

“Pair off, just in case we come in contact with danger?” I suggested, winking at Quinn.

“Absolutely,” Quinn agreed. “I’ll go with Maria.” She looped her arm through mine, and we walked towards the boys cabins.

“D’you think there’s really anything here?” Quinn asked, as we walked into the first of the three cabins. Old bunk beds lined the walls, with moth-bitten blue and white pinstriped blankets and water stained pillows. A wooden dresser was pushed against the wall across from the door, and it was practically falling apart.

“Oh, I really don’t want to touch anything in here,” Quinn announced, attempting to back out before I stopped her.

“We have to look,” I said, and took a few steps forward. I peeled back the blankets on the first bunk bed, revealing the mattress, equally as water stained as the pillow. There was nothing worthwhile, and I moved on. Quinn, after gathering her wits, started on the other side of the room, peeling back the blankets and scanning the yellowed mattress.

“There’s nothing in here, Maria,” Quinn said, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Let’s go somewhere that smells less like mold.”

“Lemme check the dresser.” I pulled open the top drawer, completely empty, albeit the slightest bit moldy. The next drawer was the same, and the bottom drawer contained a dead rat.

“Dude, that is gross,” Quinn said, cringing. “Close the goddamn drawer before I vomit all over the corpse of that unfortunate rodent.” I closed the drawer, and we moved onto the next cabin. Everything was nearly identical in all of the cabins, safe for the varying degrees of water damage.

We walked to the girls side of the camp, and found Peggy and Sarah in the second cabin. “We haven’t checked the third, yet,” Peggy said, while pulling back the pink blankets on a disgusting looking mattress. “You can go look, keep yourselves busy.” We left Peggy and Sarah alone, moving onto the final cabin.

We pushed open the door, and walking in I immediately noticed a CD propped on a pillow. I walked forward, grabbing it and turning it over to look at the back.

“Goodbye Marie,” Quinn read aloud. The song title was circled in sharpie haphazardly, nearly catching the top half of the song title beneath it. “Almost sounds like Maria.”

“And that’s Eliza’s bunk,” I pointed out, nodding towards the e scratched into the wall crookedly,

“It’s definitely her doing,” Quinn agreed.

“Let’s go show the lovebirds,” I said.

“Hey, Peggy has not accepted yet,” Quinn pointed out, and I chuckled.

“But she will,” I sing-songed, and she nodded. We walked back into the cabin that Sarah and Peggy had been in.

“Look at what we found,” I announced, and Peggy turned to face me. She caught sight of the CD case in my hand, and came towards me, grabbing it.

“Goodbye Marie,” Peggy read aloud. “Do you know this song?” She asked, turning to me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“I know it,” Sarah said. “By Kenny Rogers. It’s something along the lines of leaving a woman he was with for three weeks, but he fell in love with her,” Sarah explained, all of us with our mouths slightly open. “Ya know, it was fun Marie - I gotta run Marie that’s what it was about.”

“You are absolutely amazing,” Peggy said, placing a kiss on her cheek, and Sarah began to blush furiously.

“No,” she assured. “My parents just like strange music.”

“Is there anything specific in the song, Sarah?” Quinn asked.

“Well, the song ends by saying I’ll be back in Houston but-”

“She could be in Houston,” I said, a mix of giddiness and victory turning in my stomach.

“No,” Peggy said. “The one similar thing about Eliza’s disappearances is that they have always been to revolutionary war sites, or to places that have to do with that timeframe. Houston isn’t one of those.”

“This isn’t the final clue, then,” Quinn pointed out the obvious, but I knew it was her need to think out loud. “Okay, we’re going to go back to Peggy’s, sit in Eliza’s room, listen to this song, and study her maps.”

No one was going to argue with Quinn’s plan, and so I said, “Let’s do this.”

We scrambled in through Eliza’s window again, Peggy muttering apologies as she helped each of us through it after climbing in herself.

“So this is the famous map,” Quinn said, looking at the map of the US. “Eliza is so meticulous, it’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Peggy agreed. “Maria and I deduced that green means already been there, and red means an intention to go there.”

“There’s no red pin on Houston,” Quinn said, confirming Peggy’s remark about Eliza not being in Houston.

“Write down all the places that have red pins on them,” Sarah suggested. “Maria, play that damn song.”

I walked over to Eliza’s laptop. “Would Eliza care if I used it?” Peggy shook her head, and I opened her laptop. Luckily, it didn’t ask for a password and I searched the song online.

I pulled up a recording, and pressed play. Kenny Rogers voice flooded the room, and Sarah mumbled along with the words quietly. After a few minutes, the song concluded.

“What lyrics match up to you and Eliza’s night?” Sarah asked.

“Well, saying Goodbye Maria to me, like the song title. Out the window there’s a lonesome highway callin’ me, Eliza left, so that’s a bit similar,” I stopped, biting my lip. “It was fun Marie - I gotta run Marie again, very similar.” No one replied, as if they were expecting more. “And that’s about it.”

“Interesting,” Peggy said, before turning back to the paper she had been writing on with Quinn.

“Check which of these are revolutionary war sites, or had ties with the founding fathers.”

“Well, I know that Yorktown is, I think Trenton is, that’s in New Jersey,” Quinn said, tapping the pencil against her chin. She began to pace around the room while she spoke, and Peggy moved to sit on Eliza’s bed with Sarah.

“Weehawken– hasn’t she already been there?” Peggy nodded, and Quinn bit her lip and suppressed a groan. “Fort Constitution, New Hampshire. Mount Vernon, of course-”

“What’s Mount Vernon?” Sarah asked, crinkling her nose.

“George Washington’s house, love,” Peggy answered, and Sarah nodded.

“Then we have… Boston, that one is no surprise. Philadelphia– again, no surprise.”

“You know what, this is only making our chances of finding her seem smaller,” I pointed out, and Peggy sighed, leaning her head on Sarah’s shoulder.

“I agree, Maria,” Peggy said. “I miss her, she needs to come home.”

“We all miss her,” Sarah said, throwing an arm around Peggy’s shoulder casually.

“She’s the only of my sisters that I’d trust anymore, Angelica hurt Eliza in a way that I never thought possible for her.” As Peggy spoke, her voice took on an edged tone, like a person very close to crying that instead chose to turn the sadness and anger into purpose; and Peggy had found it. “I think if I see Angelica again, I may lose it.”

“You haven’t seen her?”

“Since before all of this,” she said. “The last I saw her was prom– of course, Angelica had already graduated so she wasn’t going, but she wanted to see Eliza and I.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, picking at my fingernails.

“Don’t be. Not like you knew, I sure didn’t,” she said, copying Eliza’s exact words when I had told her the same thing just a few nights ago. “Angelica seemed too… perfect to do that.” There it was again– the idea that Angelica was too perfect to wrong anyone, and she would never do this to her sister and that had been the very downfall that had made Eliza disappear.

“Oh, crap,” Peggy suddenly said, pushing her palms into her eyes. “I have a party to go to tonight.”

“Ooh, cool kid parties. A whole other world,” Quinn said, her lack of interest being very obviously shown.

“I promised I’d go, and maybe someone there will have an idea about Eliza,” Peggy muttered. “But, I still want to stay in and stare at this map until something makes sense.”

“That’s not good for you,” I pointed out, even though I wanted to do it as much as her. Maybe even more. “We’re going to this party. Maybe it’ll help us get an idea of Eliza.” It was hard to imagine her as everyone else saw her– a girl that went to parties and drank unnamed alcohols and kissed her boyfriend in a secluded corner. It was equally as difficult to imagine her having had this all ripped away from her by her sister, having her whole high-school identity dissolved so easily.

“I’ll go,” Sarah said, and we turned to look at Quinn. Finally, she noticed us looking at her, and she gave us a half-quizzical, half-sarcastic look, and said, “what?”

“You’re going to a party with us,” Peggy said, raising her eyebrows. “It’s been unanimously decided.”

“Unanimously means that all of us decided,” Quinn argued.

“But you’re going to accept in just a minute,” Peggy said. “Because you have never really been to a party and you’re super curious about it.”

Quinn was quiet for a very long time, before saying, “goddammit, she’s right.”

“This is the place?” I asked, as Peggy pulled into a long driveway, which lead to a huge house, likely lived in by a resident of cool kid land.

“Yeah,” Peggy replied. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I know that staring at those maps all night isn’t good. But being here just feels wrong.”

“I know,” Sarah answered. “We only need to be there for a few minutes.”

Peggy nodded, pulling her curls out of her face. “Let’s do this.” She pushed open her car door, and we followed her up to the front door of the house, walking in.

“What do people usually do at parties?” Sarah asked.

“They drink several exotically named alcohols, and make out in corners,” Peggy answered, rolling her eyes. “Eliza hates these parties.”

“Really?”

“Yep. She only even showed up ‘cause it was Alexander’s scene,” Peggy said, picking up beers and passing them to us. “These will help you blend in better.”

“You mentioned making out in corners earlier?” Sarah brought up, and Peggy snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” Peggy replied, winking at her.

“That’s disgusting. I’m gonna go find the bathroom,” Quinn said, and grabbed Sarah’s wrist, yanking her along.

“Guess it’s just you and I,” I said, setting the beer down. “I’m deciding to remain the smart sober friend that keeps the less-smart drunk friends from doing dumb things.”

“But- oh hell no,” Peggy said, cutting herself off. I followed her line of sight, spotting Angelica and Alexander in the corner, kissing with such a fervor that it was surprising they weren’t already naked. We watched for what felt like too long of a moment as Alexander’s hands slid up her shirt, before Peggy let out a small noise of disgust. She set her drink down.

“Angelica!” She shouted, and Alexander broke away from her. He caught sight of the look on Peggy’s face, a pure fury solidified in her eyes, and ran off.

“Peggy…”

“How could you, Angelica?” Peggy asked, and I knew she wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Eliza? To me? You hurt my sister, and you hurt her bad.”

“I-”

“Dont,” Peggy’s eyes glittered dangerously, and Angelica set her jaw. “Do you want to know what I did when I found out what you’d done? I got up to check on Eliza and make sure she was alright, and you know what happened? I walked into her room, and she was gone.” Peggy’s voice cracked, and she stopped for a moment. “I ran through the whole house, searching for her, before realizing that she had disappeared, and I knew that it was because of you!”

“Just listen to me!”

“What explanation could you possibly have to justify what you’ve done?”

“I loved him first, Peggy,” she said, and Peggy’s face contorted into a look that was pure disgust, but Angelica continued. “I told myself that I would step back, and let Eliza have him, but then I couldn’t anymore.”

“Angelica, if you think I would forgive after you’ve said that, then you’re so pathetically wrong,” Peggy said. “I love my sister more than anything in this life-”

“I’m your sister, too.”

“No,” Peggy said, shaking her head. “Put our sisterhood aside, I’m standing at her side. You can never be satisfied.” Peggy took a deep breath. “God I hope you’re satisfied.” She turned away from Angelica, her eyes glittering with unshed tears and hurried off, covering her mouth.

“Maria,” Angelica began. “You understand, don’t you?”

“No, not really,” I said back. “I really, really, really don’t understand how someone could first betray one sister, then look the other in the eye and say that what you’ve done is justified. So yeah, I really don’t understand.” I walked off after Peggy, hoping to find her before anyone else did.

I finally found her in a closet in the basement, due to opening it under the assumption it was a bathroom.

“You alright?” I asked, toeing the edge of her shoe.

“No,” Peggy answered. “Does it seem like I’m alright?” I walked into the closet, sitting down and crossing my legs together.

“Not really.”

“I mean, it was one thing to hear about Angelica doing all this. It was another thing to see it.” Peggy shook her head. “Angelica is lucky I didn’t punch her in the face.”

“You should have,” I said, before I could stop myself. Peggy laughed.

“I wanted to, but I figured it’d be best to take the high ground.”

“You did great. That was a verbal bitch-slap of epic proportions,” I complimented, and she laughed again.

“C’mon, let’s get out of this closet, it smells like mothballs.”

“Yeah, and you want some time to make out with Sarah in a corner.”

“Shut up,” Peggy replied intelligently.

“Where even are they?” I asked, looking around the party for any sign of Quinn and Sarah.

“Right there, in the corner.”

I snorted. “The perfect setting for you and Sarah.” Peggy ignored me as we walked towards them. They both had apparently abandoned their beers, trading them out for Pepsi’s.

“Peggy, I heard about what you said to Angelica,” Quinn began, and Peggy ignored her altogether, walking straight towards Sarah. She pushed Sarah against the wall, pressing her mouth to Sarah’s as Quinn’s jaw dropped.

“No way,” Quinn whispered, hitting my arm as Sarah tangled her fingers into Peggy’s hair. “Whatishappening?”

“I’m not totally sure,” I whispered back. “Wanna go wait in the car?”

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea,” Quinn agreed, and practically pulled me out to the car.

“That was strange,” I remarked, sitting in the backseat with Quinn. “Like, on a scale of one to ten, that was an eleven.”

Quinn shook her head, taking a sip of her Pepsi. “It was a fourteen.”

“Honestly, we should have been expecting it. We watched them flirt for hours on end and it never clicked.”

“We’re such virgins that we can’t even sense sexual tension.” I snorted, and Quinn took another sip from her Pepsi. “The temptation to leave them there is very strong.”

“But we’re good friends. Good friends wouldn’t do that,” I pointed out, and Quinn shrugged. “Peggy has the keys, anyway.”

“And it’s what, eleven?” Quinn asked, and I checked the time on my phone.

“11:22”

“I’m going to sleep.” She stretched out, throwing her legs over my lap. I found a blanket that was shoved under the seat, and threw it over the both of us.

“Goodnight,” I muttered.

“Likewise,” Quinn responded. I leaned my head against the cool window, closing my eyes. Not even ten minutes later, the car doors opened, Peggy and Sarah sitting down.

“Well, well, well,” Quinn said, not even bothering to sit up or open her eyes. “What have we here?”

“Be nice to them,” I urged, when neither Peggy or Sarah replied. I opened my eyes, long enough to see that both of them were blushing a furious shade of red, and Peggy had dark bruises littering her neck and collarbone. “Have fun covering those up tomorrow, Pegs.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, before turning the car on and backing out of the long driveway. I leaned my cheek against the cool window again, and I closed my eyes, the movement of the car lolling me to sleep.

I made it back into my house, and up to my room. I didn’t even bother with a shower, choosing instead to change from jeans into fuzzy pajama pants, and I crawled into bed. It was amazing how much tonight contrasted from the night with Eliza. That was arguably the latest I had ever stayed up, and I never never felt so not-tired than I had with her. But, now here I was, at 11:41 at night, and I was so exhausted that my whole body felt weighted down.

I closed my eyes, and sleep overtook me easily.

The days went by in a slow, repetitive pattern like the beating of a bass drum keeping tempo. I spent my free time in Eliza’s room with Peggy, studying her map and listening to Goodbye Marie at a volume that would attract Mr Schuyler to the room.

Graduation began to creep closer, and finals were hitting us hard. Quinn reinstated her mandatory locking-myself-in-my-room-to-study technique, and we heard from her less and less until finals had passed and we were finally free.

On the morning of graduation, I walked downstairs in my red, knee-length dress that I had went with Sarah, Quinn, and Peggy to pick out.

“We’re so proud of you, honey,” my mom said, fiddling with something behind her back. “And since you won’t be going to college straight out of high school, we figured the best we could do was help you with transportation.” My face scrunched up. Transportation left two options: either mom was driving me everyday, or…

“We got you a car, ‘Ria,” my dad said, and mom handed me the box from behind her back.

“No way,” I breathed out. I pulled the top off the box, and looked at the key.

“It’s a used car, but we figured you would find it useful,” he explained, and I pulled them both into a grateful hug.

“Let me help you get any of your things out of my car,” mom offered. “Since you’re just the slightest bit disorganized.” I nodded, and she walked me outside. I caught sight of my new car, an old-model Buick painted a silvery-white colour, and followed mom to her car.

I pulled open the backseat, and checked throughout it. I grabbed a few miscellaneous things, and reached my hand under the seat to make sure there was nothing left. I felt something soft, and grabbed it, pulling it out from its spot wedged under the seat. It was a black hoodie, and smelled of flowers and vanilla; Eliza.

I didn’t even notice that she had ditched her hoodie and left it in the car, and I felt a conglomeration of feelings growing in my stomach.

I unbunched the hoodie, shaking it out. Nothing fell out, and I reached my hand inside the first pocket; nothing. The second pocket was my last hope, and I reached in; my fingers closed around a piece of paper, and I could almost scream.

The paper was folded haphazardly, the edges unaligned and the paper crumbled, and I could see the indented marks from the point of a pen, the ink showing through in small glimpses.

I dropped the hoodie, and unfolded the paper with shaking hands. It was a printout of the lyrics of Goodbye Marie, but only this had writing on it.

Notes had been made, words crossed out and changed. My heart rate sped up, and I chewed at my lipstick covered lips. At the bottom of the paper, the word Houston(this time tomorrow, I’ll be back in Houston)had been crossed out, and replaced with one word:

Monticello.

#hamilton #hamilton fic #angelica schuyler #eliza schuyler #peggy schuyler #maria reynolds #fanfic #writing #roses writing #Marliza #Marliza Fic

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babblingbr00k · 5 years

Text

All The Way House

All of us girls climbed back into that van with the highest of sugar highs. The giggling and babbling only intensified. I was happy. I knew that this is where God wanted me. I was in the right spot.

Stacey told me that we were almost there. She also told me that she and I had to make a quick stop at the main office. She didn’t tell me why.

“It won’t take long. After, I’ll take you to the girls house where you can get settled and meet the remaining 5 girls.

Amy must have sensed my apprehensiveness because she looked back and grabbed my hand.

“Everything is going to be fine. All the girls are excited to meet you, and I will be right there with you.” She assured me.

The van gently pulled into the near empty parking lot and slowly drove parallel to the shops. I took note of each store front as we passed. Most were empty. Inside the only functioning store front, work out equipment could be seen. I quickly came to the conclusion that it was being used as a workout gym.

“I wonder if we would be allowed to use it?” I quietly asked myself.

I knew that we were getting close to our destination. I could see a crowd of people, no more than 20, standing on the sidewalk 20 feet or so ahead of us. All of them were talking amongst themselves. I didn’t have to eavesdrop to know that the conversations were on the happy and lighthearted side. I smiled as I saw a gentleman grab his stomach, throw his head back, and bellowed with laughter.

Just a few more feet now. I didn't know what to expect. I had never been in a place like this before. I struggled to remember what my cousin, Karen, had told me about her experience in rehab, but my racing thoughts made it almost impossible to complete even a single thought.

“Are they going to make me eat a live chicken on the first day?” I asked myself. “I wasn’t even hungry.” I felt the bile rise up in my throat with that thought.

My anxiety was reaching catastrophic levels. Time to bail? My brain was on high speed as I tried to think of some alternatives that were more desirable. I was unable to come up with any.

That's when that little annoying voice came back.

"You can still leave ya know? What's so wrong with living high in the first place? Some arbitrary law that says that we can't live a certain way? This is America after all. Just because others are irresponsible and accidentally kill themselves, doesn’t mean you will too. You’re an EMT. You can handle yourself when it comes to this. These rules don't apply to you."

I shook my head in an attempt to get rid of the voice. Stacey saw me and kept and everwatchful eye on me as we came to a complete stop in front of the main house of All The Way House. I remember thinking...All the way where?

I looked through the lobby’s glass and could tell that it was very nicely set up. I continued my reconnaissance and saw that, following a few more empty storefronts, sat the church, Miracle Place Church.

My attention was brought back inside the van when I overheard Kim say to Stacey, "Look, all the guys lined up to see the new chicken."

Wait...What...Chicken!! You mean there are guys lined up in the lobby, waiting to see the new MEAT? Meaning ME!

For the first time I was actually contemplating the, “Jump Out and Run,” escape. I was literally a hot mess and in no condition to meet anyone of the opposite sex.

My escape plan was interrupted when I heard Stacey call my name.

“Brook, get your bags and follow me. We are here.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

Amy must have seen the fear in my face because she turned to me and grabbed my hand. "Go ahead.” She said. “ We will see you at the house in a little bit and get you settled. Then you get to meet the rest of the girls." I could see the excitement in her eyes.

As I was commanded, I grabbed my stuff and climbed out of the van into the hot, humid air. Earlier that morning I had lost my rubber band, so my hair hung in a frizzy mess. On the 3rd or 4th day in detox, I noticed that my hair began falling out in clumps. “Stress,” the Doctor said.

My scrub bottoms were too small and would not come up past my hips. I had to hold onto the waistband to keep them from falling off when I walked. Luckily my XXXL shirt was big enough to hide everything, including the fact that my pants were in danger of falling off.

We walked up to the entrance and Stacey opened the doors as a blast of cool air hit me. I closed my eyes and stood there for a second, allowing the sweat that had accumulated on my body to dry. I opened my eyes and scanned the small lobby. It was nicely set up and smelled almost like a Doctor’s Office. There was a large couch, loveseat, and a single seat. In the middle was a glass coffee table with various Christian Magazines.

The lobby was full of men. If there was a structure strong enough to support the weight of a full grown man, then the rump of said grown man was on top of it.

This was so embarrassing. To be paraded in front of all these men. Could I not salvage the very little bit of dignity I had left? Was it really necessary to let everyone get a glimpse of the mess that used to be “Brook?”

I dug deep and searched out the little pride I had left. I refused to hang my head in shame. I ignored the boys and their stares and continued to follow Stacey. I came to a stop and stood behind her as she struggled with the door knob. I took a moment to scan the lobby for clues. In the middle of the room, on the far wall was a set of double doors. I looked to the right of the doors and my gaze stopped at a small plaque that read, “Man Cave.” Putting 2 and 2 together, I came to the conclusion that, behind those double doors, housed the men’s dormitory.

I was just beginning to wonder how many of the male species resided in said dorm when Stacey announced that she finally got the door unlocked, and commanded me to follow her. I quickly followed, wishing nothing more than to be away from the prying eyes of the inhabitants of the lobby.

Stacey brought me into this little office room and directed me to sit down. Almost immediately a little girl came skipping up to me. She couldn't have been more than 7 or 8. I could tell immediately that this had to be Stacey’s daughter. She had her mother’s big brown eyes.

Penny smiled at me and handed me a drawing that she drew just for me. Stacey told me, "Penny has been waiting on you. She loves meeting new girls that come in." I smiled and did my best at being a good conversationalist, but I just wasn't feeling right. Stacey sensed this and asked Penny to go wait in the other room with Matt. I don't remember what we did but it wasn't long till we were making that walk back through the lobby and back into the van. By this time Amy and Kim were gone. I was glad to be away from all the guys and looking forward to seeing what would be my home for the next 9 months.

We drove to the further side of the shopping center to this little pink house. Actually, I could tell that it had been a Pizza Hut at one time. Apparently they had bought, gutted and remodeled it and turned it into the girls house/pantry/kitchen.

We walked into the back door where I came face to face with my first sister, Christy. She was an itty bitty thing. She was sitting on stool, leaned over 2 massive baking trays filled with chicken quarters.

OH! Chicken!!

"Not everything has to be about you Brook," I said to myself. I was, then, told that Monday thru Saturday, all meals are planned and prepared by the cook. On Sunday, it was the girls responsibility to make sure everyone is fed.

The kitchen was separated from the rest of the house by a door. As I walked through the door, I walked into one, huge, single room. This room served as our living room, dining room, bedroom and pantry. I could see all the carbohydrates....I mean food, behind a half wall just beside the living room. To put it mildly, there was enough food there for all 8 girls to eat everyday, every meal, for the next 2 years. And more came in weekly, I was told.

Stacey, once again, grabbed my bags and announced me to the girls in the house. All the girls came speed walking up to me to meet me. They seemed genuinely happy to meet their new sister from another mister. I was introduced to each one individually and was told to pick a bed. I looked up to see 9 twin size beds line the walls. I couldn't decide. I was in no condition to make any kind of decision at this point.

Another girl, Emma, took me by the hand and led me to the bed next to hers. She had long black hair and the biggest boobs I have ever seen on a white woman. She sat me down and plopped down on the bed next to me. For some reason it felt as if I already knew Emma. She looked familiar but there was no way I knew her. She's just one of those people you don't forget. Full of life. She could tell I was feeling no joy.

She grabbed this spider looking thing and started massaging my scalp. It felt good but I was worried that she was ripping hair out of my already thinning scalp.

I met Kennedy, young girl, only 21 years old. I could tell immediately that she would be considered the "class clown." She had the most amazing laugh and was hilarious.

Shanna was this short, little woman. Older than me. Another sweet little lady, but I noticed she kept to herself a lot. Each of these girls, along with the ones I had already met, were in the program. Debbie, I met along with her 2-year-old, cute as a button, son, Jacob. She was not in the program. She just lived there while she worked in the media department for the church. She was a big ol girl from Maryland. I don't remember her story as to how she ended up all the way down in Baker, Louisiana.

These were the ladies that made up the girls house when I entered All The Way House. Land of misfit toys. Where they take in the ones that no one wanted. The place that turns no one away. The place that God told me to go......so I went...

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nomadthewanderingsoul-blog · 7 years

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4/3/17 - Rolling With the Punches

Life definitely wouldn’t be nearly as interesting as it is without some type of personal struggle. Too much of a good thing is just as bad as too much of a bad thing. Everything is literally quite green on the other side. California is pretty much out of it’s drought so everything looks beautiful fully bloomed. Things are great out here, however, it’s never quite perfect.

I went to the beach with my roommates for the first time in what seems like years, and it was humiliating. I’m nowhere near fat, or look unattractive, but as someone who used to workout every day on top of riding bikes every day and finishing the day with healthy, home cooked meals, I definitely realized that I’m nowhere near the shape I used to be in, and have been losing weight at a very unhealthy rate because I’ve been slacking off so badly for at least a solid three months due to moving and getting back into routines.

Without working out, I’ve lost my appetite and my metabolism has definitely slowed down. I’ve lost all my muscle weight and while I’m at a net loss for weight, I’ve gained fat in place of where muscle once was. On top of that, me not eating has resulted in a loss of day to day nutrients, and I’m starting to feel fatigued way more often then I ever have. It’s made me struggle mentally sometimes, and I’ve had a hard time dealing with simple day to day stresses.

Parking in California has got to be one of the most ridiculous things ever. If a sidewalk is red, you can’t park there. Where I live, I swear that people park their cars on the street and then leave them there while they die in their apartments. Of the people that are actually using their cars, none of them clearly know how to parallel park, so where a parking space, or ten should be, there is just short of a parking space. I should be able to park in the apartment complex, but there’s only two cars allowed per apartment, and my roommates have filled those two. Even if they weren’t filled, usually parking is too full and overflows into the street, even if it’s supposed to be counted for to prevent that from happening. After a ten hour shift with healthy stress at work, it sucks coming home to walk half a mile from your parking spot to the apartment because there’s no other spots available since people never use their cars or know how to park.

I’ve made some friends, so I’ll always have friends to go and ride with, but that’s about it. I haven’t had much time to do anything, let alone find friends. So the few times that I do end up going out and doing things, it’s either with my roommates, or alone. It’s mentally tiring having to always do things alone, but for now that’s just the way that it goes.

Things in my apartment have been fairly decent, but at times my roommates don’t exactly make things easier. Whether it’s slacking on chores and then passive aggressively writing notes to get chores done when I’ve already done mine and everyone else’s, or it’s waking up at seven in the morning to my roommates who are in a relationship fighting, there’s always some kind of stress. We put our names on things in the fridge so we know who has what, yet my food is still always getting eaten. Sharing a room was supposed to be simple, but my roommate has already complained several times about my music, which was something agreed upon before moving in. Surprise surprise, people lying just to make something happen without thinking of the consequences, right? To make matters worse, I have enough stress as it is, but I always have to hear about hers, even if it’s petty, immature bullshit that any logical adult should be able to deal with. For example, an ex boyfriend is harassing her, so she spends an hour complaining to me about it when I don’t have time to listen to it, but she doesn’t want to block him from messaging her.

On top of that, I came home from a show for the first time at almost three in the morning the other day to find out she was having a guy over. That would’ve been cool, had she told me so I would’ve known. Another part of our agreement was if we were having people over, to let the other person know so there wouldn’t be issues, but whatever. So I don’t sweat it, but then they keep me up for a solid half hour after lights out because they won’t shut up or stop laughing, and now I’m slightly aggravated, but she’s been stressing so I let it go. I wake up at about seven in the morning (only hours later), because they’re up and talking to each other. Now I’m really aggravated, but I keep my mouth shut not to embarrass her. I’m in the middle of making some music on my laptop when she comes over and asks me to leave the room so they can have sex. She notices the look that I give her and asks me if I’m annoyed. When I tell her yes, she then tells me to be considerate. At this point, I’m ready to break my lease and move the fuck out. She still hasn’t mentioned anything, because she probably either realized she was being a total piece of shit, or just didn’t care.

Not all stress is good stress, but no matter what hand you are given, you have to roll with the punches. I’m here for another ten months, and because of that, I’m going to do the best I can to keep myself going so that when the ten months are over, I can hopefully move into a new pad with my soon to be girlfriend and best friend. Despite long hours at work and not having time for much else, I’ve still managed to make the most of it. I’m on the verge of getting promoted, and if that happens, I’ll never have to stress financial standings, at least not for a while. In my spare time, I manage to take care of myself and do things I enjoy doing. With the money I’ve made from long hours, I’m about to buy my new setup for djing and that will be rewarding enough in its own for me not to have to stress for a while.

One good thing about not having to deal with tons of friends all the time is that with all the alone time, I’ve had plenty of time to figure myself out. I’ve been able to direct myself towards a path full of music and a forward direction, and I don’t think I would’ve been able to do that if I was constantly surrounded by people.

I may be out of shape, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost hope. Today I worked out for the first time, and immediately felt better then I’ve felt in a while, at least physically. You don’t ever need a gym to get/stay in shape. I run and do core workouts. You don’t need weights, or a gym for either, and both will be enough to keep you in a healthy shape. After my workout, I was also truly hungry, which is awesome because I haven’t been that hungry in forever, and I put nutrients from fruit and protein into my system.

Despite things being a little bit toxic in the apartment, I stay hopeful that they will work themselves out, and if not I’m prepared to move into a place where I can for one sleep in a room by myself, but live in a situation under better circumstances for myself. I learned the hard way to avoid leases, at least for now.

I may not have everything figured out right now, and I’m losing my train of thought as I’m writing this, but I’m getting there slowly. Two weeks ago, I didn’t think I’d make it to April, and now I’m on the verge of buying my DJ setup so I think the improvements are speaking for themselves. It’s okay not having everything figured out, and it’s okay to have stress, even if it’s not necessary. Sometimes, rolling with the punches is what makes us stronger at the end of the day. Healthy stress is good for improving us as people. Unhealthy/unnecessary stress is good for teaching us things in times when we don’t have to. This is a time of transition for me, from the end of my childhood to the start of my true adulthood. There will be a lot of things I don’t wanna deal with, but these are the moments where I can say that I’m growing into a true man that’s capable of handling anything that is thrown at me. If you’re reading this, keep pushing yourself. As bad as things might be for me with the bullshit, life is the best it’s ever been for me right now. I’d rather deal with what I’m dealing with now then anything in my past. I love my life and the direction it’s going. Maybe it’s always been this way, but I’m finally seeing it in this specific moment in the way it’s meant to be seen so that I can share it with others, and my future self. Spread peace and love!

#personal writing #self #me #writing #peace #love #respect #stress #motivation #personal

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gibsongirlselections · 4 years

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Remember the Red Guards Before You Cheer the Woke Mobs

I’m ambivalent about statues and J.K. Rowling being torn down, but terrified of the thought process behind the destruction. Decisions should never be made by mobs.

Is America on the edge of a cultural revolution?

The historical namesake and obvious parallel is the Cultural Revolution in China, which lasted from 1966 to 1976. Its stated goal was to purge capitalist and traditional elements from society, and to substitute a new way of thinking based on Mao’s own beliefs. The epic struggle for control and power waged war against anybody on the wrong side of an idea.

To set the mobs on somebody, one needed only to tie him to an official blacklist like the Four Olds (old customs, culture, habits, and ideas). China’s young people and urban workers formed Red Guard units to go after whomever was outed. Violence? Yes, please. When Mao launched the movement in May 1966, he told his mobs to “bombard the headquarters” and made clear that “to rebel is justified.” He said “revisionists should be removed through violent class struggle.” The old thinkers were everywhere and were systematically trying to preserve their power and subjugate the people.

Whetted, the mobs took the task to heart: Red Guards destroyed historical relics, statues, and artifacts, and ransacked cultural and religious sites. Libraries were burned. Religion was considered a tool of capitalists and so churches were destroyed—even the Temple of Confucius was wrecked. Eventually the Red Guards moved on to openly killing people who did not think as they did. Where were the police? The cops were told not to intervene in Red Guard activities, and if they did, the national police chief pardoned the Guards for any crimes.

Education was singled out, as it was the way the old values were preserved and transmitted. Teachers, particularly those at universities, were considered the “Stinking Old Ninth” and were widely persecuted. The lucky ones just suffered the public humiliation of shaved heads, while others were tortured. Many were slaughtered or harassed into suicide. Schools and universities eventually closed down and over 10 million former students were sent to the countryside to labor under the Down to the Countryside Movement. A lost generation was abandoned to fester, uneducated. Red Guard pogroms eventually came to include the cannibalization of revisionists. After all, as Mao said, a revolution is not a dinner party.

The Cultural Revolution destroyed China’s economy and traditional culture, leaving behind a possible death toll ranging from one to 20 million. Nobody really knows. It was a war on the way people think. And it failed. One immediate consequence of the Revolution’s failure was the rise in power of the military after regular people decided they’d had enough and wanted order restored. China then became even more of a capitalist society than it had ever imagined in pre-Revolution days. Oh well.

I spoke with an elderly Chinese academic who had been forced from her classroom and made to sleep outside with the animals during the Revolution. She recalled forced self-criticism sessions that required her to guess at her crimes, as she’d done nothing more than teach literature, a kind of systematic revisionism in that it espoused beliefs her tormentors thought contributed to the rotten society. She also had to write out long apologies for being who she was. She was personally held responsible for 4,000 years of oppression of the masses. Our meeting was last year, before white guilt became a whole category on Netflix, but I wonder if she’d see now how similar it all is.

That’s probably a longer version of events than a column like this would usually feature. A tragedy on the scale of the Holocaust in terms of human lives, an attempt to destroy culture on a level that would embarrass the Taliban—this topic is not widely taught in American colleges, never mind in China.

It should be taught, because history rhymes. Chinese students are again outing teachers, sometimes via cellphone videos, for “improper speech,” teaching hurtful things from the past using the wrong vocabulary. Other Chinese intellectuals are harassed online for holding outlier positions, or lose their jobs for teaching novels with the wrong values. Once abhorred as anti-free speech, most UC Berkeley students would likely now agree that such steps are proper. In Minnesota, To Kill A Mockingbird and Huckleberry Finn are banned because fictional characters use a racial slur.

There are no statues to the Cultural Revolution here or in China. Nobody builds monuments to chaos. But it’s never really about the statues anyway. In America, we moved quickly from demands to tear down the statues of Robert E. Lee to Thomas Jefferson to basically any Caucasian, including “White Jesus.“

Of course, it was never going to stop with Confederate generals because it was not really about racism any more than the Cultural Revolution was really about capitalism. This is about rewriting history for political ends, both short-term power grabs (Not Trump 2020!) and longer term societal changes that one critic calls the “successor ideology,” the melange of academic radicalism now seeking hegemony throughout American institutions. Douglas Murray is more succinct. The purpose “is to embed a new metaphysics into our societies: a new religion.” The ideas—centered on there being only one accepted way of thought—are a tool of control.

It remains to be seen where America goes next in its own nascent cultural revolution. Like slow dancing in eighth grade, maybe nothing will come of it. These early stages, where the victims are Uncle Ben, Aunt Jemima, someone losing her temper while walking a dog in Central Park, and canceled celebrities, are a far cry from the millions murdered for the same goals in China. Much of what appears revolutionary is just Internet pranking and common looting amplified by an agendaized media. One writer sees “cancel culture as a game, the point of which is to impose unemployment on people as a form of recreation.” B-list celebs and Karens in the parking lot are easy enough targets. Ask the Red Guards: it’s fun to break things.

Still, the intellectual roots of our revolution and China’s seem similar: the hate of the old, the need for unacceptable ideas to be disappeared in the name of social progress, intolerance toward dissent, violence to enforce conformity.

In America these are spreading outward from our universities so that everywhere today—movies, TV, publishing, news, ads, sports—is an Oberlin where in the name of free speech “hate speech” is banned, and in the name of safety dangerous ideas and the people who hold them are not only not discussed but canceled, shot down via the projectile of the heckler’s veto, unfriended, demonetized, deleted, de-platformed, demeaned, chased after by mobs both real and online in a horrible blend of self-righteousness and cyber bullying. They don’t believe in a marketplace of ideas. Ideas to the mob are either right or wrong and the “wrong” ones must be banished. The choices to survive the mobs are conformity or silence. In China, you showed conformity by carrying around Mao’s Little Red Book. In America, you wear a soiled surgical mask to the supermarket.

The philosophical spadework for an American Cultural Revolution is done. Switch the terms capitalism and revisionism with racism and white supremacy in some of Mao’s speeches and you have a decent speech draft for a Black Lives Matter rally. Actually, you can keep Mao’s references to destroying capitalism, as they track pretty closely with progressive thought in 2020 America.

History is not there to make anyone feel safe or justify current theories about policing. History exists so we can learn from it, and for us to learn from it, it has to exist for us to study it, to be offended and uncomfortable with it, to bathe in it, to taste it bitter or sweet. When you wash your hands of an idea, you lose all the other ideas that grew to challenge it. Think of those as antibodies fighting a disease. What happens when they are no longer at the ready? What happens when a body forgets how to fight an illness? What happens when a society forgets how to challenge a bad idea with a better one?

Peter Van Buren, a 24-year State Department veteran, is the author of We Meant Well: How I Helped Lose the Battle for the Hearts and Minds of the Iraqi People, Hooper’s War: A Novel of WWII Japan, and Ghosts of Tom Joad: A Story of the #99 Percent.

The post Remember the Red Guards Before You Cheer the Woke Mobs appeared first on The American Conservative.

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pisati · 4 years

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therapy assignment for last week was journaling; it’s still journaling this week, just.. about different things I guess

but last week was painful. just. really hard.

I know I’ve gone back before and I feel like I’ve reached these same conclusions before but my memory is garbage so all these realizations I’m having may be old

but it’s just.. I don’t know, saddening? maddening? how I could just see myself being shaped, and entirely the wrong way. my mom could have done so much differently. I wish someone had noticed. anyone. just to tell me that wasn’t how I should have been treated and someone to get my mom to chill the fuck out.

I picked out a number of themes that came up pretty consistently between 14-17. primarily my mom’s unfitting punishments, her favoritism of my brother, her not respecting my boundaries or privacy... I also watched myself internalize the messages she’d been giving me my entire teenagerhood and that’s what hurt the most.

when I was 14-16, I was upset. it was unjust! mom was being SO mean to me and I couldn’t understand why. I put my dishes in the sink instead of the dishwasher, and suddenly I can’t go to the orchestra camp I’d been looking forward to for months? I didn’t clean my room exactly when she asked, so my laptop needed to go for a week? I wasn’t a bad kid. I keep saying that in talks with my therapist, like it’s something I feel like I need to prove. something I’m trying to be sure of. I wasn’t always the nicest to my brother, but I wasn’t ever intentionally rude to my family. if my grades dropped it was for a reason; I wanted to do well in school. I thought I was doing my best. mom treated me like I was some awful bratty teenager, and kept calling me all these awful things. I didn’t know how much I was saying at the time, but I really was a good writer for my age. I had some sense of what was going on and knew that it wasn’t okay, but I had no proof and no way of knowing better.

and then by 17...

and why do i keep asking for things? i feel so selfish right now. just because i can have them doesn’t mean i deserve them..

ugh i hate admitting it but mom was right. i’m a selfish bitch and i don’t deserve anything. to put that into her words.

i’ve decided i’m not eating anything for a while. i’m too upset and i’m not playing tennis every day anymore so i really don’t need to gain any more weight.

my brother told me i looked like a man today and i already think i’m ugly enough so that didn’t help.

mom yelled at me, called me a stupid idiot and a selfish witch and told me she didn’t want to deal with me today.

thanks ma, i don’t want to deal with myself either.

i can’t stop hearing “stupid idiot’ and "selfish witch”. it’s like a broken record in my head.

she said it to me over and over. how selfish I was. “all you do is take, take, take”. kids are fucking selfish! they are! they have to learn how to be generous and respectful of others! if I was selfish it’s probably because I never learned any better! and whose fault is that? don’t know where you got the selfish gene from, certainly not from me... yeah ok sure.

I read some of those to my therapist today while I was explaining how I had changed, and of course I started crying at that third one from the bottom. just.. I was waving giant red flags at that point. and she didn’t fucking let up. I internalized so much of that toxic bullshit. how can you see your kid go from being bubbly and excited to closed-off and depressed and seriously think it’s entirely her problem? she really fucking thought I just became this moody teenager because I’m a shitty person, as if that’s normal. she never once apologized to me. for any of it. for blowing up at me over insignificant things, for taking my things away, for calling me so many awful things and thinking it didn’t hurt somehow?? the first time she asked me if I was depressed was last year. last year. I mean, it only took 7 years for her to maybe notice, but I told her no because I didn’t feel like having that conversation with her and she accepted it.

this isn’t the first time either that I’ve been asked if I’m stuck on it. it almost sounds like it, with how deep I’ve dug into it, with how much I have to say about it. I’m not. for the most part I’ve forgotten what it was like. at least, now that I’m moved out again. but I can see exactly how what she did shaped me. I can see the lingering effects of what she did in myself whenever I have to be around her now. it just makes me sad. it makes me angry. I feel like I could have turned out so different. she should have been supporting me and caring for me when I was upset, not making it worse and worse. she should have known I was trying and should have tried to understand that I was just different from her, and that’s why I didn’t always clean everything immediately or want to be in pictures or have the ability to just get up and do things in front of people. she shouldn’t have been acting like these were personal faults of mine. I was a good kid. I didn’t deserve to go through all that hell, and then have to pull myself out of the worst of it once I learned how to navigate the depression. I didn’t deserve to have to be the one teaching myself how to take care of myself and re-train that inner voice to stop calling me a selfish, terrible bitch. what if I never figured it out? what if I had never found the means to do that? I’ll be honest, I might’ve at least tried to off myself a long time ago. and it wouldn’t have needed to come to that either.

but I get that that’s a lot of what-ifs. it’s not what actually happened. what’s done is done. all I can do now is move forward. it’s helpful for me to remember these things, to know the reasons why I am this way. so maybe I can know what to target in fixing it.

she and I really do have a better relationship with distance. only having to see her a small handful of times a year when I was at college was great. being moved out now is great. I can clean when I’m up to it. I can leave dishes in my sink and then move them to the dishwasher when I’m up to it. there’s no yelling, no snapping, no name-calling. and still the things get done. incredible.

she’s still helpful. I know she loves me, at least, insofar as I’m her daughter. she provides so much and I’ve never not been grateful for all she’s given me. as an adult I have even more appreciation for it.

it was hard seeing some of the things I wrote about my dad too. so many things I’d forgotten. I may have cringed a little over the years, remembering how I used to diary-blog about my day and all the mundane little nothings... but sometimes I’d talk about dad too. and I may not be able to remember those things now, but there’s evidence! it’s there! I’m still ridiculously upset that I hard-reset my iphone 5 intending to let him use it and lost all his texts. but... I got to read back on a really nice weekend I had with him. he got me the little foot bath that I haven’t used in years (but really want to one of these days, when I feel up to cleaning it). he wanted to buy me everything I asked for, and I felt bad because it was a lot of money. I turned some things down-- like a $7 pair of socks I thought were really cute. he didn’t need to be spending that on me. and after our little shopping spree we went back to his house, he made dinner, and we watched some movies I'd brought with me. I just remembered how I’d pack a bunch of DVDs to bring to dad’s whenever I was going over for the weekend. I ended that post with “I am a very happy girl right now :)”. I’m tearing up just writing about it.

dad treated me like a mature human being with my own thoughts and wills. he and I never had any issues. even then I noticed how much more I wanted to help my dad out, because he didn’t snap at me for not doing things. mom getting so mad just made me want to do whatever it was less.

I’m sad I can’t remember what he was like then. all I can really remember are the last few years, when his health really started to decline. when he just started losing it mentally more and more. but when I was in high school... he was just kind to me. I couldn’t have asked for a much more caring dad.

I’ll never forget how my mom yelled at me in the car when she wanted to make me practice driving when I wasn’t feeling up to it (I can drive when I’m not feeling great! yeah, because you know how to already). how she yelled at me when I couldn’t parallel park right. how she’d grip the handle above the door every time I’d make her nervous (which made ME nervous). I didn’t want to drive to begin with but that was making it so much worse. even getting around the neighborhood was hard. and then one night when I was at dad’s for the weekend, he took me out in his prius. it must’ve been past 8pm, it was dark. we didn’t go far-- just to the office park where the car dealership he worked at was. the offices were closed, so the lots were empty. and he had me get into the driver’s seat and roll around, get familiar with the buttons and levers, and there was nobody around so I didn’t have to worry about hitting anything but curbs. he told me to get the car up to 20mph and then hit the brakes as hard as I could-- showing me what it felt like to stop hard should I need to do that, and also to know how hard to hit the brakes should I need to stop fast. after a little bit he encouraged me to try some of the back roads around the office park. the offices and most stores and restaurants were closed by then, so there weren’t many people at all there. next thing I know, I’m doing 55 on the highway. I was nervous, but I felt so much more confident because dad was just calm with me.

annnnd now we’re crying

like, I know being calm with people and working through issues calmly is just generally the way to go, and that’s what dad tried to do for the most part, but in doing that I really felt like he got me. he understood how I needed to be treated so I could learn. mom never fucking got me and she never tried to. she just got mad when her way didn’t work and took it out on me, like it was my fault.

my journals this week are going to be more self-directed. my therapist asked what I meant by “vibrant”, when I said I was so vibrant when I was younger. what did that mean when I was younger? what does that mean to me now? same with potential. I did mention a few times that I had so much potential when I was younger. I guess I didn’t make it clear enough that I don’t still think I have potential, but I just think my trajectory could have been different, you know?

I probably should have given myself a day to sit on it but right after my appointment I felt like I should jot some thoughts down on vibrancy before they left my brain.

I also realized as I was talking to her that I seem to take in a whole lot. as in.. I try to do a lot of things, especially in the way of crafting and music. and I’m trying to figure out if that’s just genuinely because I have a lot of interests or if it’s because I’m desperately trying to fill whatever void I have with things to keep myself occupied. distracted. I do think I’m genuinely interested in these things. and I like to give them a good try. I like being the crafty jack of all trades (though it kinda sucks feeling like I’m mediocre at everything; seems like every crafting community has people who are just crazy good at that one craft and that’s their Thing. I don’t think I really have a Thing). But thinking about how much I’ve accumulated over time... most recently it’s resin crafting. I just picked up sewing. I’ve been crocheting for years. acrylic and watercolor painting. jewelry making. embroidery. cross stitch. weaving. yarn spinning. metal stamping. wood burning. engraving. candle making. bath bomb making. I’ve given knitting a few honest tries but I don’t think I’ll ever get it, lmao. I do like to try new crafts. but then I think about how many languages I’ve tried to study. how many instruments I’ve taught myself. is it just that I have a short attention span? is it really trying to fill the void?

I wanted to crochet a little before bed. I’m not looking forward to so few off-days these next few weeks, or however long this is going to go on for. this week already had me beat. just. day by day I guess.

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colcot · 6 years

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Putting away the dishes tonight became a solemn chore. The kitchen window told me, “It is getting dark earlier. The breeze is more cool than a sigh of relief from the heat. Summer is packing up. Autumn is knocking.”

As a child the excitement of having a summer birthday was quickly squashed by the understanding that with August along came the end of the summer. September was loitering close by. The changing seasons and vivid leaves welcomed a new school year, sharp pencils and a new teacher to get used to. Being reminded of all that as a kid wasn’t always welcome.

This evening I felt the same way. This summer has been a season of radical highs and lows. These changes have hit me like a meteor and left similar markings. So much has happened and so little has changed. Or is it that so little has been accomplished? No, a lot has been crossed off of the emotional lists we all carry. The speed of life or shall we say “the progression” washed over me tonight like the hot sudsy water sliding off of the dishes.

Below is a Cliff Notes attempt to bring you up to speed on the formal education of our heroes and the year in general. Sadly life has gotten in the way of management’s recording of same. There are many excuses. None worth noting. No doubt, Maximo, will bring this up in my next review.

** The boys love pizza night at Filippi’s in Little Italy. Sometimes we head there directly after school. They remember going there many times with Grandpa Bear. The boys like to talk about how many slices of pie he would eat and if he would get the waitress to give him special treatment. He called it “the red table cloth place”. The boys are confident that he “is always around”.

The boys started 2nd grade at the Old Town Academy in September 2017. In an effort to make the event extra special, they spent the night with Da (father/David) at a hotel walking distance away. I met the crew for a carb load of DIY waffles, watery hot chocolate and yogurt that was not warm enough to merit a complaint – just some doubt. We walked to the school together and the boys enjoyed what appeared to be an intact family. By this point we were functioning as two branches off of the original trunk.

The year at Old Town Academy was not a favorite for our heroes. They dragged their backpacks and long faces to the green each morning. Going to school had lost all joy. It had become an anxiety producer. They appeared to wear the same grey mask of worn adult commuters – technically en route yet going nowhere. That had to change.

Part of the issue was reading or the lack there of. Starting in kindergarten management made multiple failed attempts to have the boys tested by the school to access their skills. Repeatedly I was told that they are too young. The translation of that is, ‘These tests are too expensive and time consuming.’

At the beginning of this school year their 2nd grade teacher, Ms. Pendleton, was annoyed and perplexed that so many students – including our heroes – were not ready for the rigor of her classroom. To add to her pain her Assistant left for grad school. She was on her own with a class of widely varying skill levels – most of which were well below grade level.

Sadly our heroes were pushing a rock up the steep hill of the bell curve. Ms. Pendleton told me that our boys and many of their classmates were not ready for 2nd grade. Maximo was reading at the beginning of a kindergarten level. Finny was reading at the beginning of the 1st grade level. They were not alone. Several students were not were they should be. After school I would try to cheer them up with trips to the Zoo, Sea World and dog parks. Their forlorn looks were heartbreaking. And the struggles to finish homework projects that were unnecessarily long, tedious and seemed to have little value didn’t help.

In an effort to force the issue, management attended the first school board meeting of the school year. Knowing that minutes are taken and shared with the County Board of Education when it was my turn at the podium I firmly stated, “My kids are

in 2nd grade and they can not read. They are not alone. What is the problem?” Like Norma Rae with her “UNION” sign, mine would have said “READ”. The next day I received a call and the school was suddenly ready to have the boys tested. Hmmm. Other parents came forward with issues after the beach head had been established. Other parents had been embarrassed and thought their kid was the only one struggling.

After the testing results were in our heroes gained a signficant amount of helpful academic attention. Their reading skills increased rapidly. We also armed the home front with additional reading, homework, practice with retired teachers at the library and Kumon tutoring. Our family goal was simple – Everybody reads.

The boys’ spirits began to pick up. When they realized they weren’t “the dumb kids” and the environment was a negative factor. Max lobbied aggressively to move to another school. He specifically wanted to go “to Ben’s school” in Point Loma. Both boys did their work and at the same time checked out of OTA.

Math took a temporary back seat to reading. Understanding money didn’t. We played the Allowance board game over and over. Max usually won. It is a similar game to Monopoly with a home budgeting theme. When I was a kid I told my Grandmother Katherine, “There is math and there is money.” Max gets that too.

Fin was happy to let Max manage the finances in his life. He wanted desperately to learn how to read. He would ask me how to crack the secret code. He was sad and embarrassed that he had not conquered this. His pal, Ben, was in 1st grade and he was already able to read quite well. He wanted to be like Ben.

Ben lives next door in Point Loma. The boys are like cousins on a long car trip. They get along great – up until a point. Then a line in drawn and each boy has to stay in his assigned seat until the next gas station. Max supervises the other two or relaxes with his iPad. This is what the ‘experts’ refer to as “parallel play”. occasionally Max gets in the mix too. All three love to have sleep over parties.

The school year rolled along and our heroes continued to improve. Fin made the most progress in reading levels in his class. Fin also saw a Speech Specialist. Both boys made huge strides.

Their confidence had taken a beating at school and that was in a repair mode too.

To boost their confidence, they played a lot of sports. There was swimming, dodge ball, hockey, BMX, fishing and basketball. Management is probably forgetting some.

The boys also gave billiards a solid nod. Max immediately loved it. He was quick to figure out how pool could work in his favor. He also understood how to use his brother as a pawn to meet his goals. The other kids didn’t expect Max to get any shots because he is on the shorter side. Wrong! Once money enters this equation, Max will channel his Grandpa Bear and clean up. Max’s ability to concentrate and eliminate distractions – such as his brother – pay off in the game.They also kept up with soccer, ballet and tap. The balance and core strength they have from ballet carries over into so many other sports. The extracurricular activities were particularly beneficial for their confidence this year.

September: In preparation for returning to school after the summer, the flu clocks into San Diego for a season of suffering. Management dutifully took the boys to Target for their flu shots. Fin has a needle phobia. He threw a monumental fit and drew a circle of attention. He wanted the nasal spray – not the shot. It was not available this year. It wasn’t last year either. Finny will ask for that for the rest of his life.

The holidays and the rest of the school year whizzed past us in an express lane.

October: We enjoyed Halloween the most. This was the first year that our heroes trick or treated in Point Loma. Their new neighborhood proved to be a gold mine for candy. Max has a map in his head of all of the houses were “the big candy” is given. Full size candy bars and prizes were more than the boys had imagined. Max plans to take a bullet train to those houses this fall.

We continued the tradition of visiting Coronado during the daytime for the walk along Orange Avenue. We usually take a photo at this mailbox. This year it looks like they are growing and I am shrinking in a good way.The boys have mastered maximizing their candy intake with a visit to the toy store. This year the toy store cheaped out and did not give away a small toy. They went with candy instead. This did not go over well. The employee explained that due to the popularity they scaled back. This Reporter has a hunch that the failure of the implied contract with the toy store will cause the boys to NOT want to continue this tradition.

We added a new tradition of a Harvest Festival at their friends, Reid and Nate’s church. The food there was sweet and extra sticky; that was a big win. The rides were also fast and designed to look like they were for big kids and little guys were being allowed to join. They were actually safe for our heroes and were another boost to their confidence.

Max went as a skeleton. Fin was a creepy swamp Zombie. This was the first year they were allowed toy weapons. They were so surprised when management said “yes” that they almost missed it.

The boys attended the Halloween Festival at Silver Gate Elementary School. They were sold instantly on their local school. It was like a college campus visit for them. They had already been cued in by their pal, Ben. There were old-fashioned carnival games and lots of food.

Fin was drawn to a water tank with a male teacher in a wet suit perched on top. Fin hit the ball that dropped a teacher into the water. He was amazed that not only had he threw the ball at the target hard enough – but – the game was real. The teacher actually got soaked on a crisp fall evening. That sealed the deal for Fin. This would be his school.

November: After a turkey themed sleep over with Ben, the boys spent Thanksgiving in the Bay Area.

The boys volunteered at a soup kitchen with relatives. They rode 15 miles on their bikes around the Bay. They also enjoyed romping in the hotel pool. Fin joined management on Home Depot runs for repairs to the townhouse in Fremont. Fin has declared that is “city house up north” is his. Max picked out the house in Point Loma for both of them. At the time they were looking for an address close to the beach on an elevation that would make them feel safe from tsunamis. Management was looking for good schools. And to sound like an old record – more on that later too.

December: Staycation in San Diego for Christmas found us eating fish tacos and spicy chicken wings with a view of the Ocean Beach Pier. We went onto Universal Studios for a visit with Harry Potter and the Simpsons.

February: Valentine’s Day is always one of my favorites. This year we had some of the best mailboxes. Unfortunately the politics of the school led to the child of the Room Parent taking the title. Fairness is a relative term. Max told me casually, ‘Make my mailbox just not as good as you would.” Management took a hard pass on doing his work. We all made our own boxes. Fin choose pastels and colorful designs. Max went with a lunar theme. Mine was about sweets – cupcakes in particular; it was donated to the class for children that didn’t have their own.

April: Easter hopped by. We enjoyed placing out of bowls for the Easter Rabbit. Fin reminded me to do this multiple times. My maternal grandmother, Grandma Thomes, would place bowls out on the kitchen table. On Easter morning they were magically filled with pastel colors and chocolate rabbits. There was a strong lobby for a real rabbit. Management did not approve the request. Management expressed, “We have enough heart beats in the house and turds in the yard.”

May: Their actual birthday – May 10th – was a school day. We kicked off the morning at Denny’s with homework and pancakes shaped as number 8 – just like Sesame Street. Explaining the creation of customized pancakes to the waiter and cook in Spanish at 6am was a good test of management’s abilities. The boys played the claw game and then headed off to school with two distinctly different batches of homemade cupcakes. This year the boys wanted to separate their twin-hood and just be what management refers to as “brothers at the same time”.

For our heroes’ 8th birthday they went on a cruise to Canada courtesy of GiGi. Fin’s idea. A major highlight of the year was the Disney cruise with GiGi. Fin was determined to take one of these cruises. He was delighted that GiGi agreed. We left San Diego for Vancouver, Canada. David waved from the pier as we disembarked. The boys were over the moon with the on board child care center. Disney knows what they are doing.

The cruise was amazing. We all enjoyed the week. We sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge, toured Victoria and relaxed in Vancouver for a couple of days after the cruise. At the end of the cruise, GiGi and Max picked up a virus. Fin got it afterwards in Canada. I thought I was doing well because I didn’t get sick. Little did I know.

There were several grandparents on the cruise. The boys had to bring homework with them on the cruise. Several grandparents were doing busy work with their charges in between events. Quickly the boys wanted nothing to do with management. They wanted to go to the kids’ place from dawn until they started to fall asleep on their feet. It was a Las Vegas for kids. Disney kept them active. They didn’t sit. There were games and crafts. It was amazing.

With the exception of one burnt out British college student named Heather, all of the staff were insanely talented. Heather was probably fine too just by comparison she was a grouchy link in an otherwise gold chain. We learned to avoid her station and all was good.

For such a large ship, the elevators were small. I climbed the stairs with the boys and GiGi rode the elevator “with the old people” as Fin put it. Well, it turns out management has joined the ranks of the old people. My left leg gave out in a dramatic fashion and I started taking the elevator. I thought it was fine. Unfortunately it triggered an old injury from a drunk driver in DC. After we returned home a gradual pain turned into a limp. That pain decided the cross of our summer. Max and I had plans to travel to North Carolina to see my close friends, Lily and Barbara. We were also going to see the wild horses. That was put on a shelf as emergency surgery made this the “summer of the knee”.

Management went on medical leave starting June 28th immediately after partial knee replacement. This is a another gift from a car accident in the DC area many moons ago with a drunk driver. He has a long tab to settle with Kharma. GiGi stayed on deck for a month. That greatly assisted with the recovery process.

June: They had a bubble soccer birthday party. Originally each boy wanted a separate party. Fin’s fishing party went bust. They shared Max’s party.

June: The boys went to the Del Mar Fair multiple times with David. Management went once and that was quite enough for my knee.

The boys took their buddy from soccer and OTA, Zavier, to the fair. Matching t-shirts was a imposition of management to keep the herd intact.

The boys and I camped at the Wild Animal Park the weekend of Father’s Day. The boys selected an obstacle course as their activity with Da. Management’s knee was acting up and the balance of walking was enough.

July: The boys saw the fireworks from aboard the Midway in downtown San Diego. Max said it was too cold. No comments on the entertainment. Comic Con is a family tradition. Management sat this one out due to limited mobility. The boys enjoyed it with Da and Uncle Chris.

They said they didn’t want to do it everyday next year. They squeezed in an appearance at a soccer match to score a few goals.

Fin went to overnight camp for a week. He joined Reid and Nate at their church camp in Pine Valley. Imagine Huck Finn bumping into Jesus’ raft on the Mississippi. Nate, Reid’s brother, and Fin returning from their adventures.

I thought this was a big step for Fin – spending the nights in a tent with his buddies in a rural setting. He nonchalantly told me, “Mum-Mum, I’ve been overnight camping at the Zoo with you.” Not a big deal for him at all. He went in the midst of a heat spell with lightweight white t-shirts and his “optional Bible”. He had chapel service daily, hikes, crafts and swimming. Fin was also delighted to tell me, “I didn’t have even one shower. We went swimming outside instead.” He had an amazing time. He refers to “My time in Pine Valley…” in the same fashion people reflect on their adventures in the Dark Continent. He is already planning on not showering next summer when he returns to Pine Valley.

Max took a radically more comfortable approach. He announced he would be going to Phoenix to visit GiGi, do “some new crafts” and relax. It would have been in character to play some golf in Scottsdale too. He spent another part of his summer at GiGi’s where the air conditioning faithfully whirrs on, groceries from Trader Joe’s line the pantry and cartoons are available 24-7. Our hero lounged on a plush leather couch. No mosquitos. No sunburns.

August: Management’s birthday on August 10th – It was decreed by our heroes that I was in the mood to go to an indoor climbing gym. It is good to have these celebration decisions in their hands. I might have made the wrong call without proper guidance. My only request was a fruit desert and air conditioning.

The boys visted the Seattle area with Da. They enjoyed time with Lola and Gramps in the Pacific Northwest. This year they were old enough for Salmon fishing. That was a big hit and the boys want to do it again. While staying at the cabin things got real and they caught a bat. They also caught crabs.

Throughout the summer the boys participated in various camps at the YMCA. Ben called it “boring camp”. Fin loved the week of BMX riding. Both boys loved fishing camp and gaga and 9 square games.

The termendous blanket of global warming has made outdoor camp something to reconsider. The boys were frequently tired not from playing – but from the heat. The forced fun wasn’t always a win either. Their favorite activity was what management dubbed “Family Camp”.

That might mean a trip to the Dollar Store, a huge boba tea and an indoor matinee with AC. We did our own crafts, made slime and relaxed. We went to the theme parks around 4pm when the sun was kinder and the tourists were slipping into their rental cars and giving up.

A caterpiller and a giant banana walk into a bar…

We enjoyed Sea World at night and the shade and naps during the day. Yes, naps. My friend, Anne, spends many “restorative weekends” with her twin girls. They are both in college now. Some of her best memories are just hanging out with them at home doing a lot of nothing. We did a lot of the same.

It felt good to have “unstructured play” as GiGi would say. The boys picked out different board games and crafts. We didn’t watch much television. We did go to movies. Family Camp was a compliment to my medical leave. We did low impact activities. Due to the knee remodel, we had the priviledge to park in disabled spaces.

Family Camp was a lot less expensive than the traditional summer camps. It had many benefits for the boys and management. We all slowed down to rebuild and recover. It wasn’t only my knee that needed to recover. It was all of us. We had a rough year.

We watched “Christopher Robin” at a theater with enough air conditioning to merit a sweater. Pooh reminded Christopher that ‘a lot of nothing leads to something’. The boys loved this because it reinforced our laid back summer life style.

In the movie Christopher is working all of the time and doesn’t have time for family or friends. The boys saw direct parellels to people in their life that rarely had time for them. Discussing life balance with an old soul like Max is a pleasure. My friend, Scott, told me that the writer of the script took six months off after the movie released to do a lot of nothing with his family. The boys would love that.

Each month was peppered with trips to the beach. Tide pools and waves are a wonderful way to end a day and tire the boys out before dinner rolls around.

They also spent several afternoons at the Ballpark with David and some of their friends. They rarely if ever get to their assigned seats. They play baseball on the small field behind the professionals.

After a summer of growth and healing, we embarked on a new school. Before school starts management says, “Pick a backpack”. The boys are enrolled in Silver Gate Elementary. Maximo was the first new student enrolled for Fall 2018. The boys are in 2nd grade. The boys requested seperate classrooms. Their backpacks are in play.

The summer of rebuilding will continue into this school year. This year will build confidence and a solid foundation for the years ahead. Silver Gate will give the boys what they need. It is true that slowing down the pace doesn’t stop progress – it yields results. Pooh is one of my favorite characters. He is a simple Bear with a small brain. His heart leads him where he he is needed. The boys are in the right place. Stay tuned for progress both big and small as the school year winds up.

Pick Out a Backpack Putting away the dishes tonight became a solemn chore. The kitchen window told me, "It is getting dark earlier.

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dac-bonj · 7 years

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Lesotho Infinity And Beyond: 3 November 2016: South Africa- Durban, round 2

For my post-Lesotho travels on the blog, I’m gonna be pretty specific about places and prices and things just in case you’re trying to do some traveling in Southern Africa and somehow stumbled upon my blog to help you with your plans. In this case, please enjoy and feel free to comment or email me with any questions

I specify this post as Durban round 2 because I did go to Durban once before about a year ago, but that post has been removed because of...reasons. So here’s a little, much less exciting, snippet about my second go at Durban.

After arriving at Tekweni hostel (R190/night for a dorm) on Halloween day, I just kind of lazed around and read and wrote. I came to Durban as my first stop because it would be the place I would pick up a rental car that I would use to hop down the coast toward Cape Town with. My plan was to spend about a month doing this in South Africa. So Durban consisted mostly of me getting the car, but other than that I didn’t do much in the city besides eat Indian food, try so hard to swim at the beach but being thwarted every time by rain, and generally wandering around town.

Moses Mabhida Stadium

Cloudy skies, but the fishermen are still out

Oh, my other plan in South Africa was to, once done with Cape Town, stop off in Pretoria to get a visa to visit my dear friend Milea in Liberia. Southern Africa is great for free or cheap visas that you can, with little exception (Mozambique), get upon arrival. It’s all very low stress, except when you get stuck at the border of Malawi with no US Dollars after being super fried from being on a train for like 18 hours (See the Malawi "Panic! at the border" post from July if you missed out on that fun story). So the point is, almost every other country outside of Southern Africa has expensive visas that you have to apply for ahead of time, Liberia being no exception. So eventually I’d have to get into contact with the Liberian embassy in Pretoria. So I promptly bought some airtime for my South African sim card and called the number I found online. No answer. I called again so many times at different times of the day and different days of the week with the same non-response. It also didn’t help that my emails to their listed address kept bouncing back to me undelivered. I decided that I would just show up in person in Pretoria in a few weeks and see what I could make happen.

Perhaps the most interesting part of my Durban story is getting the rental car. I reserved it through a company called Around About Cars, which farmed me out to another company called Tempest. I walked to their location downtown, having to ask a bunch of people where the actual place was, because it wasn’t super easy to find. I had reserved the cheapest car they had, for about R200/day. Being a cheap car, it was a teeny tiny Chevy Spark. Also being a cheap car, it was a manual, not an automatic. Mind you, I didn’t drive a manual at home, and the only few times I had practiced with a manual were when a bunch of us rented a car and went through Namibia a year and a half ago. My friend Lea had shown me the basics, and the most I’d done was go maybe a few hundred meters on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, stalling all the way. In preparation for renting this car, I had called both Lea and my mom for some last-minute refreshers, and I used the wifi at the hostel to find some Youtube videos to give me some tips as well.

I decided to rent a car for several reasons: I really wanted to learn to drive a manual car, it would give me much more freedom to go when and where I wanted, and the other options were not ideal. Public taxis were, well, the same taxis I had been dealing with for the past two years, which leave whenever they feel like it and only limit you to certain routes. There are also big busses like Greyhound and Intercape, but similarly, they run on set schedules and don't go everywhere. The other popular option among backpackers is the Baz Bus, which is like a hop-on-hop-off type of thing that goes all over South Africa and drops you right at your hostel, but you have to book it several days ahead of time, and it is pretty expensive considering what it is, and it would have cost me almost as much as the rental car.

The day came. I had been pushing imaginary pedals and shifting imaginary shifters in my mind all morning. So here I am at the rental place, and as the rental car guy and I are going around the car checking out the scratches and stuff, I mentioned that it had been a while since I drove a manual. This was an understatement to say the least, as I had never actually driven a manual other than for a few middle-of-nowhere stretches. He said that my license was for a manual car, so it would be fine. I found out at this point that in other countries, your driver’s license specifies if you’re certified to drive a manual or just an automatic. The US doesn’t do this, so I guess no indication of “automatic only” on my license gave him the impression that I had passed my test with a manual. After I immediately stalled out a few times trying to get the thing out of the driveway, the rental car guy offered to give me a mini lesson around the block, assuring me all the way that my (non-existent) muscle memory would soon come back to me. Then he put the car in a little strip of the parking lot so I could just practice going forward and backward a bunch of times. After I decided that I could sufficiently start the thing without stalling it, and after many odd stares from the lady cleaning the parking lot, I jerkily and haltingly unleashed myself to the open road. First, to do some more practice, I got myself to a pretty calm road with lots of roundabouts that parallels the beach. I took a break to photograph this cool skate park I found covered in graffiti, then continued on to my hostel.

Let me take you aside here, oh reader, to tell you about the wonders of an app called Maps Me, which lets you download maps ahead of time and use them offline so you don’t suck up all your data. This is the app that routed me to my hostel, and all the way to Cape Town with many stops in between.

It was a while before I got to my hostel again because I was having trouble starting up hills. Durban is quite a hilly city, and starting up a hill without stalling was proving to be very difficult. At one point, these people eating at the patio of a restaurant nearby looked on with much concern as I stalled out at least a dozen times trying to turn a corner going uphill, and it was only after I assured them that “I’m still learning; don’t worry,” that I realized I was trying to start in second gear, then corrected my mistake and managed to actually continue driving. Ooff. Then I found a residential hill nearby and did a million hand brake hill starts in little increments, and then when I got to the top I drove down the hill and looped around to the bottom to do it again and again and again. Content with my progress, I got my bags from the hostel and got kind of lost trying to find the highway. I was sweating at intersections (exactly as Lea told me I would) with the anxiety of thinking about starting without stalling and worrying about making tons of cars behind me start honking at me like I was some moron on the road.

I finally found the highway and set myself free, taking so much pleasure in the freedom and in the speed. It was at that moment that it started to hit me that I had left my Lesotho life behind, as I was driving away literally as fast as I could (safely) go. My next stop was an hour or so southwest, past Port Shepstone to a beautiful place called Oribi Gorge.

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