#I feel so uncertain and depleted its not good it's not me

[drumlincountry]

today I took ANTI-DEPRESSION MEASURES like MAKING DELICIOUS STEW and DONATING TO PALESTINIAN CHILDREN'S RELIEF FUND and GOING FOR A RUN

#I feel so uncertain and depleted its not good it's not me #taking STEPS to ground myself in reality and then making that reality better #instead of being lost in the depression thought tornado all the time #me fein #I also cuddled jamie and talked to cam :) #and did wordle with michelle as always #and listened to the mountain goats #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im playing the mind games* and im going to win!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #* mind games = steps to improve mental health

[bangwoolofbangtan]

TIME

ENTERTAINER of the year

BTS

[Time magazine BTS interview ]

It’s late October, and Suga is sitting on a couch strumming a guitar. His feet are bare, his long hair falling over his eyes. He noodles around, testing out chords and muttering softly to himself, silver hoop earrings glinting in the light. “I just started learning a few months ago,” he says. It’s an intimate moment, the kind you’d spend with a new crush in a college dorm room while they confess rock-star ambitions. But Suga is one-seventh of the Korean pop band BTS, which means I’m just one of millions of fans watching, savoring the moment.

BTS isn’t just the biggest K-pop act on the charts. They’ve become the biggest band in the world—full stop. Between releasing multiple albums, breaking every type of record and appearing in these extemporaneous livestreams in 2020, BTS ascended to the zenith of pop stardom. And they did it in a year defined by setbacks, one in which the world hit pause and everyone struggled to maintain their connections. Other celebrities tried to leverage this year’s challenges; most failed. (Remember that star-studded “Imagine” video?) But BTS’s bonds to their international fan base, called ARMY, deepened amid the pandemic, a global racial reckoning and worldwide shutdowns. “There are times when I’m still taken aback by all the unimaginable things that are happening,” Suga tells TIME later. “But I ask myself, Who’s going to do this, if not us?”

Today, K-pop is a multibillion-dollar business, but for decades the gatekeepers of the music world—the Western radio moguls, media outlets and number-crunchers—treated it as a novelty. BTS hits the expected high notes of traditional K-pop: sharp outfits, crisp choreography and dazzling videos. But they’ve matched that superstar shine with a surprising level of honesty about the hard work that goes into it. BTS meets the demands of Top 40’s authenticity era without sacrificing any of the gloss that’s made K-pop a cultural force. It doesn’t hurt that their songs are irresistible: polished confections that are dense with hooks and sit comfortably on any mainstream playlist.

BTS is not the first Korean act to establish a secure foothold in the West, yet their outsize success today is indicative of a sea change in the inner workings of fandom and how music is consumed. From propelling their label to a $7.5 billion IPO valuation to inspiring fans to match their $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter, BTS is a case study in music-industry dominance through human connection. Once Suga masters the guitar, there won’t be much left for them to conquer.

In an alternate universe where COVID-19 didn’t exist, BTS’s 2020 would likely have looked much like the years that came before. The group got its start in 2010, after K-pop mastermind and Big Hit Entertainment founder Bang Si-hyuk recruited RM, 26, from Seoul’s underground rap scene. He was soon joined by Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, selected for their dancing, rapping and singing talents.

But unlike their peers, BTS had an antiestablishment streak, both in their activism and in the way they contributed to their songwriting and production—which was then rare in K-pop, although that’s started to change. In BTS’s debut 2013 single, “No More Dream,” they critiqued Korean social pressures, like the high expectations placed on schoolkids. They have been open about their own challenges with mental health and spoken publicly about their support for LGBTQ+ rights. (Same-sex marriage is still not legally recognized in South Korea.) And they’ve modeled a form of gentler, more neutral masculinity, whether dyeing their hair pastel shades or draping their arms lovingly over one another. All this has made them unique not just in K-pop but also in the global pop marketplace.

In March, BTS was prepping for a global tour. Instead, they stayed in Seoul to wait out the pandemic. For the group, life didn’t feel too different: “We always spend 30 days a month together, 10 hours a day,” Jin says. But with their plans upended, they had to pivot. In August, BTS dropped an English-language single, “Dynamite,” that topped the charts in the U.S.—a first for an all-Korean act. With their latest album this year, Be, they’ve become the first band in history to debut a song and album at No. 1 on Billboard’s charts in the same week. “We never expected that we would release another album,” says RM. “Life is a trade-off.”

Their triumphs this year weren’t just about the music. In October, they put on perhaps the biggest virtual ticketed show of all time, selling nearly a million tickets to the two-night event. Their management company went public in Korea, turning Bang into a billionaire and each of the members into millionaires, a rarity in an industry where the spoils often go to the distributors, not the creators. And they were finally rewarded with a Grammy nomination. On YouTube, where their Big Hit Labels is one of the top 10 most subscribed music accounts (with over 13 billion views by this year), their only real competition is themselves, says YouTube’s music-trends manager Kevin Meenan. The “Dynamite” video racked up 101 million views in under 24 hours, a first for the platform. “They’ve beaten all their own records,” he says.

Not that the glory comes without drawbacks: namely, lack of free time. It’s nearing midnight in Seoul in late November, and BTS, sans Suga, who’s recovering from shoulder surgery, are fitting in another interview—this time, just with me. V, Jimin and J-Hope spontaneously burst into song as they discuss Jin’s upcoming birthday. “Love, love, love,” they harmonize, making good use of the Beatles’ chorus, turning to their bandmate and crossing their fingers in the Korean version of the heart symbol.

Comparisons to that epoch-defining group are inevitable. “What’s different is that we’re seven, and we also dance,” says V. “It’s kind of like a cliché when big boy bands are coming up: ‘Oh, there’s another Beatles!’” says RM. I’ve interviewed BTS five times, and in every interaction, they are polite to a fault. But by now they must be weary of revisiting these comparisons, just as they must be tired of explaining their success. RM says it’s a mix of luck, timing and mood. “I’m not 100% sure,” he says.

They’ve matured into smart celebrities: focused and cautious, they’re both more ready for the questions and more hesitant to make big statements. When you ask BTS about their landmark year, for once they’re not exactly chipper; J-Hope wryly calls it a “roller coaster.” “Sh-t happens,” says RM. “It was a year that we struggled a lot,” says Jimin. Usually a showman, on this point he seems more introspective than usual. “We might look like we’re doing well on the outside with the numbers, but we do go through a hard time ourselves,” he says. For a group whose purpose is truly defined by their fans, the lack of human interaction has been stifling. Still, they’ve made it a point to represent optimism. “I always wanted to become an artist that can provide comfort, relief and positive energy to people,” says J-Hope. “That intent harmonized with the sincerity of our group and led us to who we are today.”

In an era marked by so much anguish and cynicism, BTS has stayed true to their message of kindness, connection and self-acceptance. That’s the foundation of their relationship with their fans. South Korean philosopher and author Dr. Jiyoung Lee describes the passion of BTS’s fandom as a phenomenon called “horizontality,” a mutual exchange between artists and their fans. As opposed to top-down instruction from an icon to their followers, BTS has built a true community. “Us and our fans are a great influence on each other,” says J-Hope. “We learn through the process of making music and receiving feedback.” The BTS fandom isn’t just about ensuring the band’s primacy—it’s also about extending the band’s message of positivity into the world. “BTS and ARMY are a symbol of change in zeitgeist, not just of generational change,” says Lee.

And in June, BTS became a symbol of youth activism worldwide after they donated $1 million to the Black Lives Matter movement amid major protests in the U.S. (They have a long track record of supporting initiatives like UNICEF and school programs.) BTS says now it was simply in support of human rights. “That was not politics. It was related to racism,” Jin says. “We believe everyone deserves to be respected. That’s why we made that decision.”

That proved meaningful for fans like Yassin Adam, 20, an ARMY from Georgia who runs popular BTS social media accounts sharing news and updates, and who is Black. “It will bring more awareness to this issue people like me face in this country,” he says. “I see myself in them, or at least a version of myself.” In May and June, a broad coalition of K-pop fans made headlines for interfering with a police app and buying out tickets for a Trump campaign rally, depleting the in-person attendance. Later that summer, ARMY’s grassroots fundraising effort matched BTS’s $1 million donation to Black Lives Matter within 24 hours.

For 28-year-old Nicole Santero, who is Asian American, their success in the U.S. is also a triumph of representation: “I never really saw people like myself on such a mainstream stage,” Santero says. She’s writing her doctoral dissertation on the culture of BTS fandom, and she runs a popular Twitter account that analyzes and shares BTS data. “Anytime I’m awake, I’m doing something related to BTS,” she says. “This is a deeper kind of love.”

Devotion like that is a point of pride for BTS, particularly in a year when so much has felt uncertain. “We’re not sure if we’ve actually earned respect,” RM says. “But one thing for sure is that [people] feel like, O.K., this is not just some kind of a syndrome, a phenomenon.” He searches for the right words. “These little boys from Korea are doing this.” —With reporting by Aria Chen/Hong Kong; Mariah Espada/Washington; Sangsuk Sylvia Kang and Kat Moon/New York

FASHION CREDITS

RM: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes HERMES; SUGA: Jacket, shirt and necklace CELINE. Pants GIVENCHY. Shoes LOUIS VUITTON; Jung Kook: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes FENDI; J-Hope: Jacket, shirt, pants and shoes LOUIS VUITTON. Necklace HERMES; Jin: Suit, knit top and shoes BALENCIAGA; Jimin: Jacket, silk shirt, pants and shoes CELINE; V: Suit, shirt and shoes ALEXANDER McQUEEN. Tie THOM BROWNE.

#bts #kim taehyung #bts update #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #min yoongi #bts time magazine #bts time 2020 #bts time #bts entertainer of the year #bts interview #bts time photoshoot #bts photoshoot #bts group photo #bts achievements #bts article

[jessicajonesrp]

Exercise in trust

It was a week before the date of the wedding. Jessica had managed to endure Trish’s growing enthusiasm with as much patience as was possible- she swore the woman was more excited than she herself was, by about a million. She had managed to shoot down her every suggestion of flowers, bands, DJs, fireworks, messages in the air via plane, and in what she hoped was just a joke, hiring a comedian, clown, or mime. She had let Trish choose whatever dress she wanted for her maid of honor dress- hell, she could show up in jeans for all Jessica cared- and after a lot of back and forth discussion, Jessica had finally decided to wear a dress herself. Once. Ever.

 Granted, it was red, not white, had no veil, no fake diamonds or pearls or fancy adornments, and it was cut high in the front and low in the back, falling approximately three inches above her knees with a small slit up the thigh. It looked far more like a dress for a night out than to get married in, but it was the only one Jessica could halfway stand, and Trish had gasped and teared up when she begrudgingly agreed to try it for her.

 “Oh, Jess, you look so beautiful,” she had whispered, her hands half covering her mouth. “I won’t say anything else, but…can I at least take a picture of you in this, even if you won’t wear it on the wedding? Please?”

 So she had ended up getting the dress. She told Trish it was for her, and for Luke, since he probably would have to see it to believe it, but the truth was that Jessica sort of liked it too. She wasn’t someone who thought of herself as pretty, ever, but the dress made her feel comfortable in a different way than her jeans did, in a way that might be close enough to “pretty” to be its neighbor.

 The wedding might be taking place in another country- Keem Bay in Achill, Co. Mayo, Ireland to be exact- but it still involved remarkably little planning, given her and Luke’s lack of fussiness or concern with details. Jessica had thought of Ireland, having some vague Irish ancestry somewhere in her bloodlines and a definite appreciation for their love of drinking, and the beach had been beautiful and remote enough that it suited her purposes just fine. Once the tickets were bought, the date and time was set, and they were all set to fly out in two days’ time, there wasn’t much left to do beyond get the marriage certificate and wait.

  She had wrapped up most of the cases she had open in preparation for her absence, but there were still a few files with needed write ups and loose ends, so she told Luke that she would be home late and made her way to her office for the evening. Once there, though, she found it difficult to concentrate. She wasn’t anxious about being married, and certainly not about being married to Luke. It couldn’t be that much different than living with him, or dating him, after all.

 Still, something had her on edge. She had deliberately made sure she had no more than a few bottles in her office, not wanting to board a very long flight hungover and miserable the next day, but she was tempted to go to the nearest corner store and get more. It would definitely put an end to the restless, keyed up feeling that made her stand up every few minutes and check the room and doors. What the hell was she waiting for, or expecting, anyway?

 Abruptly Jessica went into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth, wringing it out, and scrubbing it hard over the back of her neck, a trick she sometimes used when drunk or on the verge of dissociating to bring herself back into the present. When she raised her eyes up to her reflection in the small bathroom mirror, it wasn’t her own face, but Kilgrave’s, looking back at her.

 Jessica choked back a scream, jumping backward fast enough that her elbow hit the towel bar on the wall, jarring the nerve and sending the bar crashing to the floor. She ignored this, whirring around to see whether Kilgrave was in fact behind her somehow rather than wearing her face in the mirror, but there was no one there. Heart hammering, she raised her eyes back to the mirror slowly, and this time, her face was her own, pale, strained, eyes wide and dilated. But although she couldn’t see Kilgrave, his voice spoke to her, sounding as familiar and real to her as though he were standing beside her all the same.

 “You can go off and try to play the blushing bride, Jessie, but we both know better. This isn’t you, love. It’s just a game you’ll play, a part you’ll try on, until it gets too uncomfortable and you cast it off again, throw it back to the side. That’s what you do when things get hard, isn’t it, Jessica? You run, go back to hiding in the shadows?”

 “Shut up,” she said aloud, hating that her voice shook slightly, and she tensed her jaw, forcing it to come out more firmly as she continued. “This isn’t real. You’re dead. You’re not here.”

  “Maybe not, but does that really matter?” Kilgrave said indifferently. She could see his outline in the corner of her eye and quickly tore her gaze as far from it as possible, unwilling to let herself acknowledge. “You hear me, all the same. You see me. Even if you’re the only one who does, I exist to you.”

 “I’m not doing this,” Jessica declared, more to herself than to Kilgrave’s image. She threw her hands up, addressing the ceiling as though speaking to any being up there who might be listening. “I’m not doing this, I’m not talking to an imaginary dead guy.”

 “Except you are,” Kilgrave pointed out, smirking. “Here’s the point, Jessie. If I’m not real, then your own mind put me here, didn’t it? And if that’s the case, if I’m some sort of representation of your subconscious fears, this is really just you, giving yourself messages you don’t want to acknowledge as your own, but they come from you all the same then, don’t they? So shouldn’t you perhaps listen, if you really don’t believe I’m real and this is all just in your head?”

 Jessica paused, confused, and uncertain as to where there was any validity in this. It sounded to her like whether or not Kilgrave was real, she was damned if she listened and damned if she didn’t, damned if she acknowledged him or denied him. She couldn’t figure out how to respond, so she stayed still, which he seemed to take as acceptance.

 “More of that famous Jessica Jones denial, I see. Run, hide, life in isolation. Tell me, though, Jessie, if you say you love this man- why would you drag him down to that level with you? Hm? If you really admire this man so much, want so much for him in his life, why would you let him settle for you? Do you really think you can make him happy, that you can give him the life he deserves? You, over other women, every other women? Really, Jessie?”

 Jessica didn’t respond, her heart beginning to pound. She kept her gaze averted, trying to shut out Kilgrave’s annoying voice, but she had become so used to listening for it, to recognizing it at any distance, that it was impossible to blur out.

 “You don’t fit in with a man like that, Jessie. You’re too torn and tattered, too rough around the edges and bruised from the outside in. You bring stress, frustration, and danger to everyone who tries to get close. You belong to someone more like you, someone who really knows you…someone with the same inner darkness, the same barely contained urges of violence.”

 He lowered his voice, almost purring. “Someone like me. We were so good together, Jessie, we were the perfect pair. You loved me, I know you did, you just don’t remember now how good it really was. You don’t remember how much pleasure we gave each other, how much-“

 “Shut the fuck up!” she shouted, spinning on her heels, one fist flying out in preparation for a blow. “Shut up, get the fuck out of my head!”

 But there was no one there. Again. It was only her, her reflection strained and trembling, a broken towel rack behind her.

 She took several breaths, hands shaking, and thought of the two bottles in her closet, down depleted to only one. She could get it and drink it, dull the worst of the anxiety threatening to become a full on attack. She would probably end up falling asleep at her desk instead of coming home like she had promised Luke, and he might worry, or worse, just shake his head and be disappointed. She could go to the corner store and buy more, drink it on her way home, and be irritable, snappy, and secretive about what had driven her to this state.

 But instead, she found herself walking very slowly back to her desk, picking up her cell phone, and scrawling to the recent calls to Luke’s name. When he picked up, she spoke in a voice that was unfamiliar to herself, holding a quiet weariness she rarely allowed to be voiced.

 “Luke? Can you…can you come to my office? Please. I just…I want you to come. If you can.”

 It was the first time she could remember reaching out to him in this way, the first time she could recall asking for help or comfort before reaching for a drink or lashing out with fists. It was the first time, and the act of it felt so exhausting that once she hung up, she sat down on the office’s weathered couch, feeling too drained to know what to do or worry what would happen next.

#jessica jones roleplay #Jessica Jones #luke cage roleplay #Luke Cage

[s-trawberryv-eins]

Uneasy Lies The Head

NOT MY GIF

Summary: Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown; the Queen of Zaireux had been betrothed to the future King of Lormere since they were children, destined to be wed and unite two warring nations. That, it seemed, was the easy part. The real challenge comes in the form of an uncertain love.

Warnings: Angst, inaccurate old-timey content, vague mentions of smut. Apologies for my ignorance.

Queen!Stark!Reader x King!Bucky Barnes

Royal AU

Word count: 6117

A/N: This is my entry for @asadmarveltrashbag​s 3k writing challenge. I decided to do a royal AU because of my undying love for the tv show Reign; anyone who has watched it will see how heavily it’s influenced this piece. HUGE thanks to @crazybutconfidentaf​ and @crushedbyhyperbole​ for proof-reading and helping me with the ending!I really hope you all enjoy reading it!!!

Once upon a time, there was a young Queen. Burdened with the throne of Zaireux since the mild age of four, the Queen had rarely known safety. Many thought she was too young. An easy target, a direct path to ending the Stark reign once and for all. Much of her youth had been spent in the neighbouring kingdom of Lormere, ruled by the House of Barnes. The promised land, her father had called it. War had plagued the two kingdoms for centuries. The promise of marriage, however, helped to douse the flames of war and unify the nations before the betrothed could walk. 

With her mother working as Regent, her majesty was free to pursue as much of a childhood as possible for a royal destined to rule. During her visits, a friendship blossomed between the promised, and peacetime never seemed to waver. To any onlooker, it seemed written in the stars. The wedding would take place on the eve of her 21st birthday; royals, nobles, and commoners alike would travel from far and wide to catch even a glimpse of the wedding. Upon King Barnes’ passing, they would be pronounced King and Queen, two nations united as one people. 

-

Years on, the King of Lormere grew ill. Word travelled at speed throughout the kingdoms after the Queen of Zaireux received her summons. The journey to Lormere was a long one; despite the shared borders, it seemed the courts sat at the furthermost parts of the lands. Since relieving her mother of her duty as Regent, her majesty had taken her place on the throne, ruling with a strength she could only have inherited from her father. 

She wished to be a fair ruler, but worried for her reign; many of the noblemen did not believe that a woman should rule alone. Despite proving herself time and again, several remained unimpressed. The only thing that appeased them was the guarantee of Prince James marrying their Queen. Even King Consort held more of their respect than Queen, apparently.

A large royal presence awaited her. The King and Queen, the Prince, and the Princess. Her majesty’s ladies were the first to exit the carriage, each accompanied by a member of the Queen’s guard.  Taking that hand before her, she offered her most favourite guard a smile; Rhodes had been loyal to the house of Stark long before the Queen’s time. Stepping out into the warm sun that shone down on to the court, she took a moment to brush off her skirts, straightening herself out. White chiffon spilled out around her ankles, and the lace of her corset clung to her skin. A vision of purity and grace.

It’d been several years since her last visit; several years since she'd seen her Prince. Between forging new alliances, trade deals, and peace treaties, there truly hadn't been much time for leisure activities. It felt familiar despite this, and she greeted her hosts with grace and poise.

-

As night fell, revels began. King George had insisted upon the celebration in spite of his depleting health and made sure it was enjoyed by all before turning in for the night. The Queen and her ladies danced and danced, slipping off their shoes in exchange for comfort. Many watched with distaste, insisting a royal should not act so foolishly. Others enjoyed it, refreshed by her energy and light. 

The Prince watched, both fascinated and alarmed by the series of events unfolding before him. A feeling of anxiety washed over him as he doubted his readiness to take a wife and the throne so soon. The two were not due to be wed for two more years, but things didn’t always go to plan. Peeling himself away from the festivities, he left without so much as a goodnight to his bride.

It hadn’t taken long for her to note his disappearance. It seemed in their years apart, her Prince had grown, perhaps into a man she didn’t quite know. Excusing herself politely, the Queen found the Princess Rebecca.

“Excuse me, Rebecca, where has your brother disappeared to? I was hoping to speak with him.” Upon reading the Princess’ expression, her smile faltered.

“Forgive me, I thought you knew-“ gentle frown lines and a furrowed brow appeared, “-he’s with his mistress.”

-

Queen Y/N and her ladies had arrived at Lormerian Court some weeks ago, and it had been a strange experience to say the least. The Queen had filled her days with politics, ruling her kingdom from a distance. Receiving word from her mother every few days, she did what she could from her rooms in Lormere.

There had been little interaction between the betrothed royals. Upon discovering that her Prince was busy with another woman, she found herself unsure of how to approach him. Their kingdoms needed the security that their marriage would bring, but it didn’t seem as though her groom was too eager. Her debacle was the current topic of conversation between her majesty and Lady Natalia. The two were seated on the east terrace, sunlight filtering through the cloudy sky, warming their skin. A disturbance in the form of Lady Wanda - the lady herself never a disturbance – pulled them from their chatter. 

“Apologies, Y/N, but his highness requests you in the throne room. It’s urgent.” With a soft huff and a fond roll of her eyes, the Queen nodded and headed away, leaving her ladies (friends, really) to themselves.

“It's always urgent, girls.”

-

“Good morning, majesties. How are you feeling, your highness?" Greeting them with a curtsey, her smile dropped slightly as the King motioned for the guards to leave them. The King and Queen, herself, and the Prince stood alone in the throne room. 

“I fear I don't have long left, I'm afraid. There’s nothing that can be done, and I have made my peace with it. I do, however have one request.” The King smiled brightly, gesturing for the two younger ones to join him. “I would like to watch my son wed, and I would like to do so soon.” The kindness in his voice warmed her heart. 

“You have a date in mind already, Father?” Sensing the rising panic in his voice, Y/N turned to face Prince James. 

“Of course! We need this alliance, and you’re both of age. You’ve been waiting since you were children! It’s time, son.” The Kings gaze fell upon the two, a proud smile on his aged face. “Our original treaty states you will be wed on the eve of Y/N’s 21st birthday; that is no longer a possibility. Two weeks today, and you shall be husband and wife. And I do suspect that you’ll be King and Queen not long after.” 

Neither could respond. The young Queen felt as though she was intruding on a moment between family, and the Prince felt the weight of his grief already. It was to be a joyous occasion, filled with promise and hope. There was, however, a large grey cloud that seemed present overhead whenever the union was discussed.

-

With a curtsey and a nod, the Queen excused herself from the throne room and headed to her chambers. 

"Y/N! May I speak with you a moment?” As her eyes fell upon those of her betrothed, her heart warmed. The blue orbs hadn’t changed at all since they were young, despite the proof of his aging in the beard on his chin and the lines surrounding his eyes. Always so beautiful, she thought. 

“Yes, of course.” Offering her Prince, a polite smile and a nod, she gestured to the nearby balcony. "What can I do for you?"

His change in body language was clear as day; her Majesty prepared herself for the coming conversation. James' silence only seemed to confirm Y/N's suspicions.

“You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want this at all, do you?"

Grabbing her hand, Prince James led her away from the door, worried for any gossip that may be caused by her unrest. If word got out that the alliance wasn’t as strong as it seemed, trouble would no doubt be rearing its head soon after.

“I wasn’t expecting any of this. We were supposed to have another two years before this. Now my father is sick, and we are to be wed in a fortnight.”

“It wasn’t a problem before! I’d even go as far as to say that you were excited when we were small.”

“A lot has changed. You’ve been away-“ 

“Your heart already belongs to another, doesn’t it? Your mistress.” The words burned her tongue, venomous and bitter. “Rebecca told me when I asked of your disappearance the night I arrived.” Steeling herself visibly, the Queen took a step closer to James.

“I have a kingdom to think of. I won’t be held here, waiting for you to make a decision. My heart lies with you, James, but I will do what is best for Zaireux. The wedding is due to take place two weeks from now. If I have not heard from you in one, me and my ladies will be leaving Lormerian Court – for good.” And with that, she gathered her skirts and left the future King to his thoughts.

-

“Tensions are rising at the border. These small skirmishes are becoming something greater. The Elenish nobles are pushing for an invasion – god knows why, a war could ruin them! Neither one of us has recovered from the most recent battle of Northing hill.”

The Queen paced, frustration evident in her tone. The realities of ruling a kingdom from afar were starting to weigh down on the girl.

“I beg of you, we must send aid. The nobles have caught word of your son’s lack of enthusiasm for our union. Zaireux cannot afford to appear weak, we need a show of support from our ally. My forces are already spread too thin!” After receiving news of a pressing threat arising on the east border – the growing unrest between territories - Y/N had requested a meeting with the King to plead for the help of the allied kingdom.

At the mention of James’ hesitance in the wedding, King George visibly tensed. The treaty between the two kingdoms had been perfected over years; King George and the late King Anthony had worked tirelessly to produce something that could stand for centuries, and it now seemed his son was willing to throw it all away for a woman Y/N was yet to meet. 

“Of course, Queen Y/N. Consider it done. I assure you, your alliance with Lormere is as strong as ever." But his words of reassurance meant nothing without the co-operation of his eldest. The delicate peacetime wouldn't last if the marriage fell through – nobles of each kingdom only viewed the other as a threat. Y/N already felt the pressure of her countrymen, those who insisted that the only way forward was war.

“It’s only days until the wedding. You and my son will reclaim the Elenland and rule half of the continent as husband and wife." George was alone in his enthusiasm, as the Queens heart still weighed heavy in her chest. With a nod, she excused herself from the room and headed off in no particular direction, lost in her worries and thoughts.

-

“Natalia, what of Lord Banner? He's wealthy, titled, very rich. It doesn't hurt that he’s fairly easy on the eyes, either!” The three girls sat together, wine in hand, underneath the afternoon sun. In a rare moment of quiet time, free from any talk of politics or war, the ladies had requested the kitchen put them a basket together; the finest cheeses, fresh fruits and berries, little tartlets and a bottle of wine. Taking their basket to the green down by the water, they laughed and gossiped and smiled. 

“He is rather wonderful. I had hoped he’d propose soon but it isn’t looking likely. It seems he needs a push.” 

“So, push him! I can see how smitten you are, Nat. Do it!” 

“And what of you, Lady Wanda? Any suitors taken your fancy?" A blush crept over Wanda's cheeks, revealing her secret to her friends instantly.

"I have some news, actually." Pausing to take another sip of wine, the other two girls sighed at her dramatics.

“Oh, come on Wanda!" 

“I am being courted by the Court physician; the one they call Vision. He comes from an awfully wealthy family, many holdings blah blah blah," smiling brightly, Wanda presented her hand to her friends. "He proposed yesterday. I'm to be wed!”

A series of screams and giggles erupted from the trio, attracting the attention of those nearby; including the Prince, who was in deep conversation with Lord Rogers and Rhodes, Y/N's guard. The men turned to watch the ladies, who were now up and dancing about, the lack of music not phasing them in the slightest. Their brightly coloured dresses swayed about their bare ankles as they moved, ribbons and jewels decorating their hair. A mesmerising sight, and Lord Rogers quickly picked up on the way his friend studied the girls.

“For a man so insistent upon not marrying this girl, you do spend an awful amount of time staring at her. She is your fiancée, you're allowed to desire her.” Most others would be scolded for addressing their Prince in such a way, but Lord Rogers -Steve- and James had been friends since they were babes; the Princes right hand man in everything he did. It was because of this that Steve knew all about his cold feet when it came to marrying the Queen of Zaireux.

“Shut up, punk.” 

“You should know the Queen grows weary still. She feels lovesick but knows she cannot wait for you forever. There are whispers of another proposal; King Rumlow of Ascon.-“

“He’s a tyrant!” The Prince was troubled deeply by this news. King Rumlow was not a pleasant man at all. He'd cast off his last wife after she only provided him with two daughters. An evil man that was entirely unfit to marry Y/N. 

“That he is. Do what you will with this information. Your time is running out, your highness.” With that, Rhodes headed closer to the Queen, his watchful eye keeping her safe.

"If you must know, I broke things off with Lady Gilbert some days ago now. I haven’t told Y/N, but it seems my hand is being forced. Perhaps I should bare my heart after all. Any suggestions?" James looked to his friend for advice, who simply smirked. The pair knew exactly the method the Prince should deploy to secure the Queens heart in his hands.

Gripping the hilt of his sword that sat sheathed at his side, he headed over to the Queen, a determination in his step. 

“Good afternoon, Queen Y/N. May I request that you meet me on the south lawn this evening?”

-

The Barnes siblings stood together on the south lawn, discussing his plans to court Y/N.

“How did you pull it all together so quickly?" Rebecca looked to her brother, admiration twinkling in her eye. Pride filled her heart, and the Princess couldn’t hide her happiness for James and Y/N if she tried.

“I have my ways. What do you think? Will she like it? Is it too much? Not eno-“

“Stop blabbering, brother! Look at what you’ve done! I don't think I've ever seen so many wild flowers in my life. Those peonies are the prettiest I’ve ever seen. Bucky, she’s going to love it.” The Princess was not yet engaged, as her father had promised that when the time comes, she could marry for love and not for advantage. Despite the two never having talked about it, Rebecca was sure that Bucky would allow her the same freedom.

“Thankyou, sister. Now off with you, Y/N will be here any minute!”

-

"The sun shall be setting soon, your highness. Do you require an escort to the south lawn?" Rhodes stood in the doorway of the Queen's chambers, never entering without permission.

“I’d like that, yes. And stop with the formalities, you're family.” The pair walked through Court, enjoying the festivities as they strolled.

“What do you think of it here, Rhodey? Do you miss home?” 

“Sometimes. There are many differences between Zaireux and Lormere. But I am honoured to be here with you, Y/N. And I don’t think I’m the only one grateful for your presence.” Gesturing ahead of him, the girls eyes landed on the field of brightly coloured wild flowers. Pinks and purples and yellows covered what was once a large patch of green. Lanterns seemed to mark a path through the flowers, and the golden glow of the setting sun stained the scene ethereal. 

“Enjoy your evening, Y/N.” She barely felt the brush of Rhodes’ lips on her head, too enamoured by the view before her. Taking uncertain steps forwards, the girl followed the lanterns through the wild flowers, her fingers brushing petals as she did so.

“Thankyou for coming.” James’ voice took her by surprise, pulling her from her state of shock. Behind him was a blanket surrounded by large cushions, a bottle of wine to the side.

“What is this? What is going on, James?”

“You gave me a week to decide what I wanted. I’ve been a fool, it seems. Everybody noticed apart from me, of course. I don’t want to marry you because the alliance says so. I want to marry you because since we were children you have always been my life. Love and lust can blur easily. And I let fear get the best of me." His voice was firm, confident. Y/N watched him as he spoke but remained quiet. He took her hand gently and sat her down on the cushions. After pouring them both a drink, he took a seat next to her.

“The alliance complicates my heart; I do not want to force my feelings, nor do I want to ignore them. I apologise for taking so long to realise what I wanted."

“What changed? I don't mean to doubt you, James, but I'm uncertain as to our situation.” He couldn’t blame her for it, after all his actions had caused her unrest.

“I was frightened. I met Elena a few months before your arrival. We were fast  friends, and I didn’t think it would matter. When you came back to Court, I panicked, and sought comfort in her arms. But I am yours, and we will wed, Y/N." The smile on her face brought happiness to his heart, grateful that she was willing after his mistakes.

The certainty in his voice helped to ease her some, although she still felt as though they were strangers.

“May I ask you something?” Her brow furrowed, but she nodded for him to continue. “You’ve been here a while now, yet you still only call me James. Why is that? You never used my proper name as children.” 

The Queen blushed furiously as a wide smile appeared on the blue-eyed Prince’s face. Chuckling as she became visibly flustered, she huffed at his response.

“Because I don’t feel that we are as we were when we were younger. I haven’t seen you since I turned 16. We are different. You are different.” He sucked in a sharp breath, unable to deny her accusations.

“Listen. I know I’ve handled this poorly since you returned, and for that I am sorry. But I’m here now – if you’ll still have me, that is.”

Turning to face the water, the girl basked in the last light the sun had to offer. As she pondered his words, she found that she couldn’t deny her heart. 

“Okay then, Bucky,” emphasising his nickname as an attempt to close the distance, she smiled. "I take this to mean that you’ve ended things with your friend?” Carding her hands through the blankets beneath her, she couldn’t meet his eye. 

“Yes.”

“Then there is no need for us to speak of it any longer. Can we sit a while?” Her head was cocked to the side, and she held her glass to her lips, hoping he’d say yes.

“Anything you want, my love. Anything at all.”

-

Light poured through the enormous arched windows, illuminating everything it touched. Dark brown hair was twisted and pulled, curled and pinned, with the most delicate of jewels woven into the locks. Pinched cheeks appeared fair and pink. Bright white lace travelled up her arms, over her shoulders and across her breast. A corset to match the lace, strings pulled tightly to highlight her features. A magnificent skirt that moved with her, beads woven in the prettiest patterns. Flowers spilled from her bouquet; pink roses and peonies, white daisies and golden accents. 

Y/N would be wed within the hour, Queen of one nation and future of another. 

“Oh Y/N, you’re a vision!" Natalia cooed over her Queen, love bursting from her heart.

“James won’t be able to keep his hands away from you.” Wanda fiddled with a clasp as she placed a necklace around the Queens neck, finishing her look.

“Stop it you two, you’re making such a fuss!” But despite her words, Y/N couldn’t contain the smile that graced her lips.

“Forgive me your highness,” the servant entered the room with a curtsey, addressing the Queen directly. “Rhodes is outside, he’s requesting entrance."

“Oh, of course! Send him in!” The servant nodded and curtsied again before exiting the room. Rhodes entered shortly after, a proud smile on his face. He’d come to care for the girl like a daughter; he took her under his wing when her father passed and had taught her much of what it means to be anointed by God. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she’d have survived her reign without him.

“Tony would be so proud. You look stunning. Are you ready?” Her two ladies made their way to the largest ballroom, where the wedding would take place. No expense was spared; the decorations were grand, musicians and streamers and statues presented wonderfully. The Queen of Lormere had done a wonderful job.

“I think so.” Y/N took his arm, and the two made their way to the newest chapter of her life. As they moved through the corridors, the large lacy train dragging behind them, as figure appeared in front of them. A woman. 

“Congratulations on the wedding, Majesty. Looks like you got what you wanted.” Her voice was cold and calculating, throwing Y/N off guard.

“I’m sorry, do I know you? I don’t believe we’ve met.” Rhodes was quick to step back into his role as guard, eyeing the woman suspiciously.

“Lady Gilbert. I'm the woman who has been sleeping with your fiancé.” A sly smirk appeared on the blonde’s face, a challenging look in her eye. “I’ve come to wish you good luck. I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“I beg your pardon? The Prince ended his relationship with you days ago, you have no business threatening me!” As her voice rose, Rhodes took a defensive stance, ready to protect his Queen if any danger were to come to her.

“Before you wed the Prince, you may want to ask of his whereabouts this morning. Whilst you were braiding your hair and tying your corset strings, James was making love to me. Talking of a future where I was is bride instead of you.”

The blade pierced her heart before she could respond. Gasping for breath, her hands flew up to her chest. But there was no blood, for there was no blade. The pain in her chest was that of heartbreak. Was it true? Could he really have done such a thing?

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a Prince to wed. I hope you understand that your pathetic attempt to prevent our union has failed. Good day."

Turning to her guardian, she requested his arm once more, and they continued their walk to the ball room. Rhodes said nothing, for he understood that affairs of the heart matter not. She must wed for the sake of her kingdom. In so many ways, royals are by far the most fortunate. Love is not one of them. 

-

Feeling the hundreds of pairs of eyes on her form, Y/N’s heart sped up. As she gripped Rhodes’ arm tighter, her eyes locked with the bright blue ones of her promised. It is often said that when one marries, the nerves melt away when your eyes meet; she wished and wished for that to be true. Perhaps five minutes previous it would've been. Rhodes planted a soft kiss on her cheek, before aiding her up the steps to her Prince.

As the priest began his vows, the Queen took a moment to look over her future husband and found that for a short second she cursed her station. For if they were merely a boy and a girl, they may love each other freely without worry of politics, mistresses, crowns or nobles to complicate their emotion. But they were not just a boy and just a girl. And to have everything would be to test God. Even royals can't do that.

Vows were said, promises made, and rings exchanged. She’d received many glorious gifts as Queen, but nothing she'd ever been gifted had stirred quite a feeling the one her wedding ring did. So much of her life was uncertain, but she was now wed. The alliance was concrete, her kingdom would thrive under the partnership created as they exchanged vows. 

“You may kiss your bride!” The words hit Y/N like a tonne of bricks. They hadn't shared so much as a handshake since her arrival, and now they had to seal their vows with a kiss before God. An outstretched hand pulled her from her thoughts. Placing her own in James', he took a single step towards her and paused. Confusion briefly flashed across her face until she realised - he was asking for her permission. 

Answering him with a step forward of her own, his free hand wasted no time in finding her waist and pulling her into him. With a soft gasp, her eyes fluttered shut, long black lashes brushing her cheekbones, the light from the windows highlighting the shimmer of her makeup. James swore he'd wed an angel, and quickly, but ever so softly pressed his lips to hers. Warmth spread through her like wildfire, and the girl could tell she was blushing furiously. The kiss broke, and Y/N instantly missed the feeling of James’ lips against her own. As if they were made to kiss her. In some ways they were.

-

The dancing, the food, the entertainment had worn the Queen out entirely. There was, however, one thing pressing on her mind, forbidding her from rest. Waiting until they’d finally made it back to their own chambers, the Queen sat down, drink in hand.

“Lady Gilbert paid me a visit before the wedding.”

James froze in his tracks. After a moment, he turned to look at the Queen, his wife.

“Why? What did she want?"

“Where were you this morning? Before the ceremony?” Her tone indicated that she already knew, that lying was futile.

The Prince removed the baldric that lay across his chest, allowing him to sit next to the Queen - his wife - more comfortably. His stubble-covered jaw tensed visibly, and he seemed to be struggling for the words. 

“It’s true, I saw her. I…I went to visit her chambers.” Icy blue eyes met her own harsh gaze, and it was clear to him the mistake he'd made. 

“Tell me or will I assume the worst! Did you sleep with the girl? On the morning of our wedding?”

“No! I resent your assumptions of me. I admit it, I was scared. Terrified. But I have always loved you. My visit was not to lie with the girl but to more firmly end my relations with her. It seems my first effort was not enough.” Voice strained, fear of the consequences of his actions being set in stone. “Y/N. My Queen. My wife. I love you.”

“Love is irrelevant to people like us. You owe me nothing, I only ask for the truth.”

“You do not believe me? How do I prove my innocence?” Rising from his seat on the chaise-lounge, James stood before his wife. Dropping down to one knee, he gathered her hands in his and begged for her to look at him. 

“You speak the truth, my love. Love is often something rulers go without. But don’t you see that we're different? We can be different. I would rather have the hope for a true love with you than the certainty of merely a strong alliance elsewhere. I am sorry for the doubt my actions have caused you."

Tears rolled down pink cheeks, silent and pained. Sad brown eyes bore into blue, searching and separating truth from lies. Since she was a child, the only future she saw was him. Her Prince, her James, her Bucky. Ruling nations together. The words she spoke earlier, though harsh, were true. Love wasn’t a necessary part of their union, however much it was desired. 

But love him she did. 

“I love you too, Bucky.”

The Prince wasted no time in rising to his feet, pulling the girl up with him. Hands left hers to instead find her waist, pulling her flush against him. Eyes wandered down the girls face, taking in every detail before settling on her lips. Pink and plump, as soft as she and begging for his love. Settling a hand against the side of Y/N's face, Bucky closed the gap between them and kissed her gently. Gently, softly. Gently, until it wasn’t anymore. A whimper sounded from his wife and he was suddenly and delightfully too far gone. The kiss they'd shared during the ceremony was their first; sweet, innocent, and lovely. This was heated and full of want for more. 

But that would have to wait. Their consummation was to be witnessed by several members of court, only then would their marriage be true in the eyes of God himself. Tearing himself away from her, Bucky studied her carefully. Plump lips, flushed cheeks, chest rising and falling with vigour as her airways gorged on the oxygen now available. Her lungs burned but she relished it, they could catch fire for all she cared if it meant she'd never have to be without him again. 

“I love you with all my heart."

-

A month after the wedding, King George of Lormere died. It hadn’t come as a surprise to anybody, but that didn’t take away from the loss and sadness that was felt throughout Lormerian Court. The kingdom wore black for weeks whilst they mourned their late King; he was a fair but fierce ruler, eager to make peace but would strike with strength when threatened. His reign was long and successful, and now the kingdom turned to his son.

The coronation came around quickly, but James couldn't help the bitter feeling that consumed him on the day he was crowned King of Lormere. The day served as a reminder that his father had passed, that he now had the burdens of an entire realm on his shoulders. 

“I can see your mind working overtime, my love. Share your troubles with me.” Y/N sat at her dressing table, studying her husband through the mirrors reflection. “I am your wife. We share in all things. And I am soon to be your Queen. So, I ask you again, my King; share your troubles with me.”

Blue eyes flicked up, finding hers in the mirror. “Who am I to deny you?” A soft smile appeared on his face, but it did not meet his eyes. “I fear I don’t know how to do this without my father. I’ve been raised for this, trained for it all my life, but I do not feel ready, Y/N."

“I have been Queen of Zaireux since I was four. I took to the throne alone when I was 14. The one thing I’ve learned, Bucky, my love, is that you need not take on the burdens alone. You are not alone. And I don’t mean your privy council or the nobles. I mean your mother and I. Your sister. Steve. Share your burdens, my love. You’ll go mad if you don’t.” Rising from her seat, the Queen made her way over to James, where she sat herself gently on his lap. Carding her fingers through his hair, she prayed for him to hear her.

“Your father knew you could do it. He wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she felt her Prince sigh and soften into her. “Never feel you are alone.”

Gazing up at his wife, it didn’t take him long to close the gap between the two; planting his lips softly on hers, Bucky deepened the kiss, relishing in the whimpers he pulled from her doing. Pulling her body closer to his, the soon-to-be King leaned forwards, gently laying the girl down on the chaise lounge underneath them. 

She clung to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly to keep him from straying too far from her. 

“Bucky, please, I need yo-“

“Forgive the intrusion, your highness! The Queen Mother demanded entrance!” Bucky pulled away from Y/N resentfully, standing to face the servant who had interrupted them; it wasn't the poor boys fault. Winifred didn't take kindly to the word 'no'. 

“Apologies for the interruption. Bucky dear, you need to do something about that mistress of yours. She follows me around like a lost puppy; it’s infuriating.” The Prince stood up instantly, fixing his ruffled clothing.

“Mother, she is not my mistress. You’re the Queen, I’m sure you can shoo the girl." Gazing down at his wife, his brow furrowed in annoyance. Why his mother thought it best to bring the Gilbert girl up now was beyond him. It was no longer a topic of conversation between James and Y/N, but he definitely didn't care for it to become one again.

“She seems to think differently. Besides, it’s not uncommon for a King to take a mistress. Not all royals love each other, you know? And those who do; well, let’s just say it tends to die out.” The Queen Mother spoke as if she wasn’t thinking about the words and their effect. The blasé nature of her arrival left Y/N uneasy, it felt intentional despite Winifred's seemingly careless nature.

“Mother, what do you want?” James quickly grew impatient, wanting to be rid of her.

“I wanted to wish you a happy coronation day, Darling! The pair of you!”

“Thankyou! Now if that’s all, my Queen and I must get ready. Alone.” Voice harsh as he nodded to the guards at the door, silently commanding them to open it. A sour look appeared on Winifred's face as she retreated from the room.

“I’m sorry, my love. Ignore my mother and her words. She’s bored and isn’t too happy about giving up her crown. Now-" Sighing, Bucky collected his wife’s hands in his own before brushing her nose lightly with his.”-where were we?”

His lips met hers and Y/N shut her eyes, letting his lips remove the doubt that his mother had planted. And if they failed in that task, they would at the very least mask it with a feeling much more pleasant.

-

“Long live the King!”

Keeping her eyes glued to her knees as she knelt in front of the Cardinal, Y/N's body shook with nerves. The Queen Mother’s words still weighed heavily on her mind. James took his seat on his throne, and she knew it was her turn. 

The weight of a kingdom in the form of a crown was placed on her head; her fate sealed. As the Cardinal performed his duties, the Queen rose to her feet and turned to face the audience. Her people. 

“Long live the Queen!”

Taking a seat on her throne, a smiled grew on her lips. It was a funny feeling; she’d all but waited for this moment her entire life. Lormere had been promised to her since she was a babe, as had its King. The journey that led her to this moment had been long and brutal; especially as a female monarch, a Queen in her own right. 

Glancing towards Bucky, the two took a moment to study one other. The promise of a love-filled future was rare for anybody in their position. The Divine Right giving only a crown, nothing else. It begs the question; are they testing fate? 

Two minutes into their reign and her heart trembles. For uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

#royal au #bucky barnes x reader #King!Bucky #Queen!Reader #steve rogers #Stark!reader #royalty #reign #bucky barnes #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #marvel au #sarahs3kwc #please reblog #Feedback is appreciated

[throughthewwods]

Some days I become swept away by phone calls and before I know it the most productive window of my waking hours has closed. These talks don’t feel like noise at the time (trauma processing, gallows humor, how-are-you’s) except when it’s going on 4pm and I haven’t invested anything in myself yet again.

Yesterday I explained to a friend that I recognize she is about to enter the next phase of her trauma recovery which is turning into butterfly goo as she forms a new sense of identity not in reactive swing to her traumas. It is a confusing, distressing time. I know enough to know when I don’t know enough about some thing to be helpful. Much of the time I do feel like I can offer useful feedback, but in this case, I nudged her in the direction of a psychiatrist specialized in trauma recovery so she can get the good-fit support she needs before the sky starts falling faster than she can connect with services.

Yesterday my stepmother made me feel not-crazy for my frustration that so many people had implied a ‘good boyfriend’ who ‘really loved me’ would ‘put a ring on it’ to rescue me... because nothing says ‘lasting, solid marriage’ like a brash engagement under duress. 🤢 My mother’s Cinderella complex is unsurprising, but the other people are counter-culture enthusiasts. so their Disney thinking is more bizarre to me.The double standard also irritates me. If the shoe were on the other foot and I had a boyfriend of only a year who found himself suddenly unable to financially support himself and his son for an uncertain amount of time, no one would be pushing me to take his expenses on. They’d be half heartedly sympathetic, but advise me to look out for my own self interest and not adopt yet another stray.

We’ve come far, but Feminism clearly has a long ways to go.. 

I see now as I reiterate these conversations why by the time I am off the phone I’m somewhat depleted. It’s been a number of days since I worked on my 100DoP Challenge with intention. That financial news really knocked off my momentum. When I slip into auto pilot I get things done each and every day yet not optimally and there’s a lack of awareness/pride in my own accomplishments as it all blurs together into a haze of busyness and burnout..

💜 I set out to make Easter nice for everyone, which I accomplished 

💜 I set out to exercise more, which I have been. Feels good.

💜 there is no plane of existence I could stick with that elimination diet, but I’ve been eating more mindfully ever since.

💜 I’d decided Kiddo should work on her overdue lessons this spring break, which I nudged her to get a dent in yesterday.

💜 i’ve been prioritizing my sleep, so I don’t feel so much like death the next day.

Kiddo made a self portrait that came out pretty adorable.

RB treated us to this cute little Sicilian restaurant, which makes its pasta in-house. Delicious. Mmmmmm chicken parm euphoria. I never get homesick per se, but I do miss the  abundance of tiny, Italian corners in New England and delivery chicken Parmesan available at most pizzerias. Here there are only two real Italian restaurants, three if you want to drive 45 minutes, and no Italian bakeries. 🤭 Unforgivable!

We’re sleepy on the couch in the lull of our food coma.

Kiddo teeters with half open arms. They reach in for good night hugs. Happy feelz.

RB and I chitchat for a while. His heart is sad to share how voltage in the ground killed a farmer’s two cows. We talk about the cuteness of goofy, prancing cows. RB is not someone you’d want to trifle with, but he’s such a gentle giant as a baseline. 💕 We daydream about our next adventure exploring under the city, a twirl on the Ferris wheel, and stopping somewhere for a variety of cupcakes. I vent about the annoying rise in entitled male animosity towards women for having the audacity of choice, heaven forbid, our newfound freedom to have standards/preferences, and the gall to not choose them simply because they want her. I sit bemused unsure how I will deal with clients like this someday who find consent and graciously respecting boundaries this baffling thing they can’t quite figure out, ever blaming the hyperbolic ‘feminist shrew’ for their single-ness. Its nice to have a down-to-earth guy I respect not be an apologist for chauvinist, incel tantrums.

#journal #writing #my writing #motherhood #parenting #love #relationship #RBLOVESTORY #everyday feminism #why we need feminism

[ikhnyshy]

Drabble Request: Shicca; Rebecca running on a treadmill while connected to a heart monitor as part of a stress test, the stress proving too much for Rebecca's heart, resulting in a massive heart attack/cardiac arrest and Shiki must revive her. Feel free to tweak this to your liking.

Sorry for taking so long to publish this. I hope you like the story :)

Request #2Fandom: Edens Zero | Pairing: SHICCA| One-shot |

Heart Attack 

“Is it serious?” Rebecca asked worriedly after watching Sister’s serious countenance for long minutes.

“I don’t understand,” the android replied, shaking her head sideways “It seems like you have a lot of stress,” she continued, and then looked at her with a mocking smile “What could make someone like you worry so much”?“

Rebecca looked away and scratched her cheek as she thought about everything she had lived in those months as a crew member of the Edens Zero. It’s a curious thing that Sister asked that question, she knew very well the number of situations they went through since the ship started working again.

“You have to take more care of yourself. We don’t want you to have a heart attack here on the ship.” She warned her, closing the screens where the different results of her studies were displayed.

"A heart attack?” Exclaimed alarmed the B-Cuber “That sounds serious”

“Don’t get upset or you’ll have one right now.” Ivry laughed amusedly and from one of her drawers she pulled out a small rectangular device that she handed to the blonde.

“Put this on as if it is a watch. Go to the gym and get on one of the treadmills.” Rebecca took the object and placed it as she was indicated, the device turned on and its screen showed her the image of a heart beating “I will see you in half an hour ”

“Gym?” The girl asked puzzled “Do we have that?”

“Well of course,” Said the android smiling ” There are more rooms besides the dining room and the bathrooms, you know? ”

"I admit it, I didn’t explore the entire ship”

“I know where that is, Miss Rebecca” offered Pino, who had witnessed Rebecca’s entire study routine “I can guide you,” 

“Thank you, Pino”

“By the way,” Sister intervened before the other two left. “Try not to talk or stress yourself while doing the exercise or the results ​​will be altered.”

“Okay. Thanks, Sister ”

…

"It’s amazing,” Rebecca exclaimed when they entered the gym. Like everything in the Edens Zero, the training room was very well equipped with advanced and modern technology. Rebecca wondered if Weisz and Hermit were also investigating in that room.

“Rebecca!” She heard her name being called and was surprised to see Shiki on one of the stationary bikes. “Are you gonna do some exercise too?”

“I didn’t expect to find anyone here,” she said absently and smiled at her partner. “Sister sent me to do a study.”

The boy stopped pedaling and followed her around the room with a curious attitude. Rebecca approached the row of treadmills in front of the huge window that opened to a splendid view of the space. The girl admired the starry landscape, thinking it would be very relaxing to walk on those devices enjoying the extension of stars…

“What is that?” She diverted her attention from space and noticed that Shiki was too close, pointing at the gear tied to her wrist. For some reason, the boy’s sudden closeness made her heart jump and the object gave a short squeak.

“Sister gave it to me,” she replied, surprised by the sudden noise. “It’s to do some studies”

“Studies?” He asked, inclining his head. “What’s that?”

“Haven’t you had your routine examination?” She asked worriedly.

“Not that I remember” Shiki shrugged dismissing the issue “What do you have to do?”

Rebecca climbed on the treadmill and started to walk. The action was as relaxing as she had expected. On her wrist, the device began to collect the data by changing the heart diagram to one of an irregular wave that followed the rhythm of her heartbeats …

“I just have to walk” She answered the previous question and watched through the huge window, admiring the progression of the ship through space. If she ignored the gym environment, walking while watching the stars felt as if she were floating in the space surrounded by the huge Sakura cosmos.

“Do you know what would be fantastic?” Shiki’s voice distracted her again, Rebecca turned her gaze to her partner who was smiling immensely. Again the device emitted a high pitched sound, a little longer than the previous one.

“Master Shiki” Pino intervened shyly “Miss Rebecca can’t speak while doing the exercise”

“Uh?” Shiki watched the little android “Why not?”

“The results could be altered if she is stressed”

But Rebecca already felt somewhat stressed, or at least her heart seemed anxious. Pino explained to the Demon King the conditions Sister had given for the study, while she tried to control her suddenly rapid heartbeat.

“If she gets too stressed, she could have a heart attack,” Pino finished raising one of her little fingers to emphasize her last sentence. Shiki’s expression darkened and he turned his head to look at his friend. Rivers of tears began to leave his eyes and a shriek of anguish escaped his lips …

“Noooo! Don’t stress, Rebecca! “He whined outrageously. "I don’t want to lose my friend! ”

Rebecca smiled kindly, moved by her partner’s reaction. Seeing him so distraught by a possibility as remote as a heart attack seemed kind of tender.

She felt a pleasant warmth that spread across her chest, but before she could say anything to calm Shiki, that same warm feeling seemed to squeeze her heart.

A stabbing pain attacked her from the chest, a violent and unexpected oppression that caused her to lose control of her actions. She stopped walking, paralyzed by the affliction in her chest, the movement of the treadmill made her lose her balance and the last thing she knew was the sensation of falling through a deep dark hole…

…

Instinct kicked immediately and Shiki managed to catch her before Rebecca fell to the ground and hurt herself.

But his intuition did not help him at that moment, despair began to invade him, unsure of what to do to help his friend. Pino must have noticed his nervous breakdown because the little android acted quickly and the Demon King could not be more grateful for her presence at that moment…

“Master, I downloaded information about heart attacks,” the little robot said, sounding confident, but there was still some concern on her face. “You must lay Rebecca on the floor and we must apply CPR immediately.”

“CPR? What is that? ”He was still scared, his hands shaking and tears threatening to sprout, but Shiki knew it wasn’t time for that, he had to do CRP, CPR or whatever its name was.

“It’s a procedure,” the android replied simply and unbuttoned Rebecca’s shirt with a quick movement. “I am too little to do it, master. You must do it ”

“Just tell me what to do”

Pino explained patiently that he had to put his hands together on the girl’s chest and press quickly and hard repeatedly.

Shiki obeyed the instructions. He watched his friend’s face, hoping to see signs of conscience, but she remained unchanged since falling from the treadmill. He repeated the procedure, his despair increasing with each pressure that didn’t wake her up.

“You’re doing well,” the droid said, noticing the anguish that invaded him, but Shiki couldn’t calm down despite her words. Repeated pressures were depleting him and the lack of results made him desperate. Time seemed to pass slowly and quickly at unbearable vertigo.

“Help!” He finally shouted as he continued with the repetitions on Rebecca’s chest. “Pino, call the others, please,” he begged, his voice dyed in despair. “I need help”

Shiki needed the rest of his friends, he needed to have them there, helping Rebecca. He didn’t understand what was happening or what he was doing. The only thing Shiki knew at the moment was that he had his friend in trouble and he couldn’t help her.

Despair brought impotence and the Demon King was about to lose the battle against an invisible enemy he could not face with his Ether Gear. He stopped doing compressions and lowered his head to cradle it between her friend’s breasts.

“Shiki?” Rebecca’s weak voice made him raise his head in a swift movement. “What happened?”

“Rebecca!” He exclaimed joyfully and threw himself on her to hug her, bursting with happiness at seeing her awake.

“Master, you have to be more careful” He heard Pino say, but Shiki couldn’t help it. He had been so worried that his friend… Rebecca wouldn’t wake up.

“Hey! Don’t do that!” The girl complained when the Demon King sank his face between her breasts again, “Shiki! ” She started pushing him away from her, embarrassed by a position so intimate that didn’t seem to bother the boy at all.

"I was so worried,” he said, tears falling on his partner’s blue bra. “I didn’t know what to do.” Rebecca stopped pushing him. She remained still and tense for a few moments and then relaxed, embracing her partner, returning the affectionate gesture he gave her.

“I’m fine, Shiki,” she said kindly and he clung even more to her waist.

“When I said you shouldn’t stress…” Sister’s voice flooded the silent atmosphere of the gym. Shiki raised his head to see the android entering the room followed by Weisz and Homura  “… I didn’t expect you would look for this kind of relaxation" Shiki noticed that Rebecca’s cheeks turned exaggeratedly red, the boy inclined his head uncertain of why she reacted like this “We must admit that it is a very effective method to combat stress”

Rebecca covered her chest by closing her shirt quickly. Weisz already had a perverted smile on his face and his eyes kept looking at the blonde girl’s shirt.

“I can also help you relax, Rebecca” He volunteered, but only received an elbow in the stomach, courtesy of Sister.

“It seems an interesting method,” Homura commented quietly, but everyone heard her perfectly.

“Miss Rebecca had a heart attack.” Pino informed Sister “Master Shiki helped her by applying CPR”

“Very good, Demon King” Congratulated the android nurse of the ship “I see you have proceeded efficiently” Sister brought her hands to her hips and smiled mockingly “You can be our honorary nurse”

“I want to be an honorary nurse too!” Weisz offered only to receive another nudge.

Rebecca removed the watch-shaped device from her wrist and handed it to Sister. The android looked at the object seriously and nodded.

“I will examine the study’s data,” she said and then looked discreetly at Shiki. “Meanwhile, you can continue with your own methods … I think they will be more effective.”

“Can you stop that? It is not what you believe! Nothing happened!”

While Sister and Weisz continued to tease Rebecca with their comments, Shiki watched his partner seriously. The fright he suffered didn’t let him relax with his companions, worry still tormented him. Staring at Rebecca, with his characteristic determination, the Demon King promised himself that he would protect his friend from all the threats that might affect her, both the enemies he has to face with his fists and any other condition that might exist.

He would be with her regardless of anything and be her unconditional protector.

Thanks for reading!

Special thanks to @alelysmar83 who beta read this story both in English and Spanish. Thank you!!!!

#Fanfic #ShiCCa #Edens Zero #Edens Zero Fanfic #Request #Rebecca #shiki granbell

[theangrypokemaniac]

@nyarthsis

If Team Rocket 'always had a heart for unpopular Pokémon', that's an admission their Alola catches aren't particular loveable creatures, so I'm not thinking anything too controversial.

You're saying they take pity on the animals no one wants, as in it's normal for me not to find them adorable.

Some Pokémon, such as Lucario, become fan favourites without the advertisement of a regular role the anime. With Wobbuffet, Bewear, Stufful, Mareanie and Mimikyu, do people like them for themselves, or because of their association with Team Rocket?

I think its the latter. I can't imagine there would be such interest in them were they to be owned by a Twerp or appear as a one-off. Really then, it's not what or who they are, it's to whom they belong that matters.

Alola has really devalued catching. Rather than be true to the source material, so battering a Pokémon into submission, as Ash did with Bulbasaur, Primeape, Muk, and many others, now you have to ask their permission!

Bewear didn't even get that. She hung around for no reason, and her 'friend' Stufful was belatedly tacked on. I see why those two were left behind, as Team Rocket had no right to take them elsewhere.

In terms of welfare, Mimikyu and Mareanie are better off staying with them, free and safe, rather than locked in the insalubrious depths of H.Q., but then it never bothered the writers sending previous Pokémon into an uncertain future, so what difference does it make now?

It can only be that, like their predecessors, there is no intention to ever bring them back, but unlike the rest, the fans can't even be allowed the vain hope of a return, not with this rather awkward disposal.

It's feasible that Jessie and James could call their base and request old monsters to join them, but it's difficult to imagine they'd fly across the world to Alola, wander through the woods, pick 'em up and go all the way back again. Why make parting so final and irreversible?

It does imply that Game Freak don't like them, so why should I?

I keep noticing this fickle attitude. A new era starts, we're expected to fall instantaneously in love with every element, beg for more and yet more. Then, once the next region arrives, this adoration asked of us is meant to evaporate and immediately transfer to the next batch.

Well why start to like them, if eventually the makers don't care, to the extent you wouldn't even know previous Pokémon had ever been alive?

Have you heard one mention of Seviper, Yanmega, Dustox, Cacnea, Carnivine, and Mime Junior since they left?

Why were they happy to chuck Wobbuffet after Sinnoh, yet fetched for Kalos?

How could Team Rocket live without it for an entire generation but suddenly it's indispensable again? What do you imagine the rest of their Pokémon felt about that?

Have Jessie and James wondered allowed how Arbok, Weezing, Lickitung and Victreebel are doing?

What of the last two generations?

What is this nonsense where every character is so detached from the past?

Supposing I was to force myself to appreciate them: since they've gone, never to return, I'd be dissatisfied with the show, thus no better off than I am now.

My feelings don't run on a switch. I can't find myself besotted one minute then dump the object of affection without a second thought, just because Nintendo want it from me.

Even if I had a more positive opinion of the current interpretation, there's no benefit to becoming involved when it's all so fleeting.

Mareanie is ugly, with three teeth. I think he's a sea anenome, so ought to be more attractive, but it's covered in nipples instead!

It looks like a bonsai tree growing breasts, reminiscent of the hideous content lurking within an Hieronymous Bosch painting.

The idea that all Mimikyu copy Pikachu, the most famous Pokémon, when in their world it's nothing special, is too stupid for me to accept. How could that be coincidence?

It's referencing reality, acknowledging the real world's view of Pikachu as the star, so if it's breaking the fourth wall, it invites disbelief.

Wobbuffet does sod all. It's a complete dead weight and has no attacks. Yet it's the one to survive generation after generation. Where's the logic in that?

I suspect his popularity rests on being there so long he's considered part of the furniture, the sole catch in which you can invest an emotional connection whilst fairly certain he'll remain around.

By now it ought to have developed some semblance of a personality, but it's as faceless as ever. Other Pokémon that have been and gone had a bit more about them, but Wobba's so bland no one can summon the energy to write him out.

If he went, what would you miss? Breaking out of his ball and hissing 'WAAAAAHBUHFEH'? Is that so integral?

I have several objections:

What is it meant to be?

Why does its tail have eyes?

Why is that never mentioned?

Is it a sort of quadruped, or has it only one foot with four toes, arranged like the bottom of a medical walking stick?

A lot of my reactions to Pokémon are influenced by encountering them in the games. With Wobbuffet, I remember first coming across it in the cave near Blackthorn City, and just as you're winning the fight, it pulls out Destiny Bond and suddenly you're both down.

When you finally get one, it's tricky to train. You have no choice but to guess whether the opposition will launch a physical or special move, and mostly you get it wrong. He never learns anything else and doesn't evolve, so it's that forever.

Persevering with Magikarp is worthwhile, but what's to be gained from taking any time out to fight with Wobbuffet?

The anime eliminates this problem. You're aware of the nature of the approaching onslaught because you can see it coming, and the opponent said it aloud.

In this context Wobbuffet should be the most powerful Pokémon in the universe. Come on, it can deflect every attack!

Is it? No. It has a successful defence about once a generation, and still loses the battle. I can't say if it's worse to be utterly pointless, or to not fulfil one's potential.

I resent it muscling in on the motto, as if it's considers itself of equal rank to Meowth. No it's not!

When I was young, there was a tendency for magazines to refer to Team Rocket as a duo. Meowth was judged to be in the same position as Pikachu: a main character yes, and valuable enough to be accorded the privilege of liberty, but still very much owned by people.

You would see references to Jessie and James as his Trainers, though how they assumed this worked went unexplained. Even if shared, one had to have to caught him, thus be his proper owner.

Later on this developed into them being three equal members, and the term 'TRio' emerged, but now, although perhaps not officially recognised, there's an attitude of treating them as a quartet.

It's just wrong! Wobbuffet's not been around since day one. He didn't join Team Rocket voluntarily because he had nowhere else to go. It was a choice made for him by his original Trainer, so out of his hands, or rather his flippers.

If he was an independent Pokémon who just tagged along one day, that would be different, but it belongs to Jessie. Promoting one of hers means James is lesser, and no longer equal.

In each generation Team Rocket catch at least one local Pokémon, but as Wobbuffet's there, it ends up with Jessie having more on her side than James, and I dislike the imbalance. Plus the one he does get is violent.

It can't be solved by giving him another new one, as then he's captured two in the region, and she has only one, so again it's skewed.

Whilst Wobbuffet does count in numbers, he's not on the level of the rest, who fight regularly. He's both there and not simultaneously.

I'm still irked the way Lickitung was ejected to make room.

It was the best Pokémon they ever had! It took out Pikachu, Vulpix and Bulbasaur with one move! It would've won those Princess Dolls for Jessie if the writers hadn't changed the rules so that Lick only affects those of sound mind!

It was as if they realised their mistake too late, and so Lickitung was featured less and less to avoid it dominating a fight, then hurriedly traded away for something reliably feeble.

The following analogy you may not understand, but I think it fits rather aptly:

There's a game called Final Fantasy VIII. One of the side quests involves you racing through a castle under a time limit. If successful, you are rewarded with Odin as a Guardian Force, which is a deity that will provide a defence.

Unlike others, he is out of your control, but every so often, as you enter battle, he turns up and annihilates your opponents. It's very welcome.

Unfortunately this game was programmed by bunyips, who clearly didn't want the last section of the game to be accidently easier for you. Oh no. If you're progressing, it ain't gonna be through luck, or turning the console on and off until he arises.

Therefore, towards the close, you come up against ex-friend Seifer. Odin is fixed to rush to your aid, but when he does, bloody Seifer slices him in half, horse and all!

He killed Odin, the ancient King of the North! The Lord of Valhallah! The Father of the Vikings!

It's not normal fighting death, it's irreversible. He's gone for good.

After this Gilgamesh introduces himself as a replacement. He too will randomly appear and set about the enemy.

The problem is that whilst Odin destroyed monsters unfailingly, with Gilgamesh it's a rarity.

He uses four swords, and which you get is also a lottery.

One is the same as Odin's, two deal average damage, but not death, and the worst one depletes 1 HP, so it might as well not have bothered.

Not only does it arrive but a fraction of the time, but it's in a fraction of those times that it's of any assistance, which is something of a comedown.

Lickitung is Odin: didn't see it often, but it tore the place apart!

Wobbuffet is Gilgamesh: once in a blue moon it provides rescue, but it's on a lot lower percentage than it's predecessor.

It's difficult not to be disappointed.

#team rocket #wobbuffet #mareanie #mimikyu #bewear #stufful

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Are We Out of the Woods” [ 2.03 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (daphnegolshiri) || S2 Tag || Official Page

WRONG THINGS, RIGHT THINGS – Disaster strikes rehearsals for the fall musical when a major vandalism throws everyone off schedule. As the junior class points fingers at prime suspects, Riley and Isadora attempt to clear a good friend’s name. Although only one student is responsible for the crime, more than one of them is lying.

62 Minutes (16K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Second Choice ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Valerie De La Cruz → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

A black screen, only for a moment, as NIGEL CHEY cues us in…

Nigel: Once upon a time --

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Prologue: Into the Woods” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

The orchestration of the seminal Broadway class launches us into the musical-centric episode for the season. The camera eases its way down the hall, students running by in costume or techies giving tasks to one another as they go. A set piece, half in progress, is pushed by JEFF MONROE back into the auditorium through the dressing room doors.

On the wall outside the black box theater, a poster for the musical is up: Into the Woods (in case the first song hadn’t tipped us off). On the bulletin board outside, the cast list is still posted, where all of our main players have initialed next to their given roles.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

On the stage, set still in progress but nearly complete behind them, our main players are doing a run through of the opening number in real time. This is where our first true taste of the casting comes into focus, RILEY MATTHEWS as Cinderella stage right, CHARLIE GARDNER as Jack with his prop cow at center stage, and FARKLE MINKUS taking on the role of The Baker with YINDRA AMINO as The Baker’s Wife stage left.

Other roles are introduced as they step into the number, such as ISADORA DE LA CRUZ as Little Red Riding Hood, and MAYA HART as The Witch. However, the opening prologue is a lengthy piece, and there’s much more going on that shares focus as we settle into Sondheim’s musical world.

For example, LUCAS FRIAR is in the midst of conversing with DAVE WILLIAMS over the construction of their most complex set piece. It’s nearly complete, and Dave has been slaving away over it for weeks. It’s clear that he considers it his baby at this point. He speaks about it with overt enthusiasm, slapping DYLAN ORLANDO’s hand away as he tries to touch it.

Unfortunately, Lucas isn’t in the mood for enthusiasm. It’s clear Dave is getting on his nerves with his perfectionism, warning him that they’re running out of time to finish the damn thing, so he’s going to have to either hustle or settle for less than perfect.

Dave: You can’t rush art.

Lucas, flatly: It’s a fake hill with fake trees.

Dave: Shh! It’ll hear you!

NATE MARTINEZ exchanges a look with Lucas, assuring him that they’ll get it done. Dave continues to assure the set piece that Lucas didn’t mean it. He’s just stressed, once again in a role he doesn’t want to have. And ain’t that the truth…

Meanwhile, SHAWN HUNTER and HARPER BURGESS are at odds yet again. They’re quietly arguing in the front and center section as the rehearsal progresses, Shawn pointing out that giving Isadora such a large role has seriously depleted her ability to help the techie brigade.

Harper: Perhaps you shouldn’t put such an exclusionary attitude on the techies, and teach some of the performers who didn’t get roles to work.

Shawn: That would take more time than our current crew doing it alone.

Harper: Well, then maybe you should’ve been doing that the whole time. Hindsight truly is 20/20, isn’t it?

Harper is done with the conversation, turning her focus back to the rehearsal. Shawn rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair before marching off in the other direction.

In the wings, ZAY BABINEAUX is conversing with NICK YOGI and SARAH CARLSON. The boys are dressed in their costumes for their roles as the Princes, looking pretty sharp. Although he seems unbothered, Sarah makes an offhand comment about how Zay was duped for a leading role again by Farkle. That’s a shoddy track record, especially with Farkle being kind of universally disliked at this point.

Sarah: Guess talent really is the ultimate factor, isn’t it?

Zay: Please, time on stage does not equate best performance. The Prince is a far more interesting and fun role anyway.

A true statement, perhaps, but there’s an equal amount of truth to Sarah’s earlier statement as well. Despite how well he brushes it off, there has to be a frustration to constantly taking a backseat to the villain of Adams’ history.

Focus shifts back to the actual number when Maya is laying down the required items for the Baker family to get their wish. As the rest of the rehearsal unfolds and each core character begins their journey into the woods, the performances clearly show off why the show was casted the way it was. As usual, the choices seem to be spot on.

That being said, Farkle’s perfect casting doesn’t stretch into his overall state. He doesn’t seem… on top of things, for what it’s worth. He’s lacking his usual pop of energy, and there are small moments as the last minute unfolds where he’s actually starting to look a little unsteady.

This comes to a head when they reach the final chorus, Farkle front and center as they sing the final harmony. He gets through the note and then promptly collapses, sending the screen into black as everyone reacts in concern and shock around him.

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - TEACHER’S LOUNGE - DAY

A blurry visual fades us in from the titles, fading in and out of black until the vision stabilizes: the ceiling with speckled tiles, lighting dim in the lounge to make for a less intense setting.

Farkle blinks, confused as he comes back to consciousness. He lets his gaze drift, allowing more things to come into perspective. This includes the three people looking at him -- Charlie, kneeling next to him with a cold compress, having been the first one to jump to his aid; Riley, watching in concern but not quite ready to be right at his bedside; and lastly Lucas, glaring at him from over his shoulder and reminding him how to feel fear.

Charlie: Farkle? Can you hear me?

Farkle: What the hell is going on?

Zay darts in with another cold compress, exchanging the old one with Charlie. He tries to put it on Farkle’s forehead, but he pushes his help away and struggles into a sitting position instead.

Riley: You fainted.

Zay: Scared the hell out of everyone.

Charlie: People just weren’t expecting it. Are you okay?

Farkle: … oh, so now you all suddenly care? Just because I took a little tumble?

Lucas: Don’t flatter yourself.

Harper enters, tailed by ERIC MATTHEWS and the school nurse. Eric instructs all of the other students to go back to rehearsal and give Farkle a little bit of space. They obey, Zay patting Charlie’s shoulder as he glances back over his shoulder in concern.

While Eric is able to settle right down with the nurse and address Farkle, Harper keeps her distance. The two of them have had a strange relationship from the first week, so she’s even more uncertain how to handle this situation. She awkwardly wishes Farkle well and says he can come back to rehearsal as soon as he’s more steady.

As she leaves, Eric begins questioning Farkle on the status of his health. Has he been feeling sick? Is he drinking enough water during rehearsals? Farkle is able to answer things pretty pointedly, until Eric starts gearing the conversation towards more mental areas. Is he getting enough sleep? How are his eating habits? He dodges by answering vaguely, but it’s unclear whether he genuinely doesn’t really know or if he’s just wary of discussing his current emotional state.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Isadora makes her way across the stage towards where the techies are working on the major set piece, getting sidetracked by Maya. She eagerly wonders whether or not Valerie has responded to Isadora’s invitation to come see the show. Isadora claims her starlet mother is in fact planning to be in attendance, and the two of them share a moment of excitement.

Maya lets her go, leaving her to approach her former usual crew. Lucas, Nate, and Dylan are arguing about a feature of the set piece that still isn’t complete. It was supposed to be Farkle’s job as part of his punishment, but considering he’s in rehearsals ninety percent of the time and is now sick, they’re going to have to pick up the slack.

Isadora swoops in just at this moment, asking how things are going. Dylan relays the situation in quick terms, and while Isadora attempts to begin brainstorming like old times, it’s evident that the boys aren’t really all that interested in what she has to offer. In fact, there might be some resentment already in place considering how her focus is split in rehearsals as well.

Nate: Well, you know, maybe you could actually help if you weren’t so double-booked.

The moment passes before she can form a retort, Dylan offering to take up the extra work. They settle it and break without further discussion. Lucas heads off in another direction without waiting up, so Isadora has to jog to keep up with him as he begins the long journey through the auditorium towards the booth. He claims they’re both busy and maybe don’t have all that much time, but Isadora seems determined to have a conversation.

Isadora: I just wanted to let you know that my mom is planning on coming to opening night. I know how you feel about her, so I thought you might like the warning. You know, so you can take your civility shots or whatever you need to do.

Lucas is clearly displeased by this information, but he covers it with nonchalance. He doesn’t buy that she’ll actually show, but Isadora is welcome to get her hopes up if that’s what she feels like spending her energy on.

It’s frustrating, how conversations seem to have this edge between them these days. Isadora charges onward regardless, shifting gears and pointing out how brusque Nate was to her. With Lucas also sort of giving her the brush-off, she attempts to get a read on if they’re really pissed.

Lucas: Look… I don’t know. I guess we just didn’t realize that you doing the musical was going to be like… a recurring thing. I figured after The Miserables --

Isadora, without thinking: Les Mis.

Lucas: … did you just correct me?

Whoopsie. Rookie mistake. Isadora tries to recover, quickly changing the subject and pointing out that they handled the production of things totally fine without her last year. She has no doubt that they’ll be able to pull it off again.

Isadora: Besides, you guys really did a great job with Les Mis --

Lucas: THE MISERABLES.

Clearly, this conversation is not going to produce positive returns. If Isadora was searching for reassurance that her footing with the techies was all well and good, she’s not going to find it here and now.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Meanwhile, rehearsal must go on, so they’re gearing up to move forward on numbers that don’t require Farkle to run through. Harper finishes telling the boys this before giving them a five minute warning. Zay and Yogi finish getting into costume, their duet as the princes the next one up that fits that criteria.

Zay: Well, if our supposed leading man is going to sleep on the job, Yogles and I will be happy to pick up the slack. Not that we really need the practice --

Nigel rolls his eyes, exchanging a look with Charlie. Charlie can’t help but smile, eyeing Zay as he’s getting ready to march back out onto the stage.

Zay: But, well, the show must go on.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Agony” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Zay Babineaux & Nick Yogi

Perhaps the most straightforward performance we’ll get all episode, Zay and Yogi take their rehearsal time seriously and deliver an entertaining rendition of the princely duet. However, the duet in it of itself is theatrical and over the top, so maybe “seriously” isn’t the right word.

In any case, it’s clear that Zay wasn’t kidding when he claimed they hardly needed much more rehearsal. He completely owns the stage, demonstrating how much that summer confidence has done for him. Harper is thoroughly enjoying the performance, as well as their classmates as they watch from the wings. Riley and Maya laugh along; Charlie is totally enthralled.

When they wrap, Harper gives them a quick congratulations for actually being on top of their roles. Zay gives a cheeky little bow, exiting the stage with a flourish.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Riley is on the hunt for Zay, aiming to tell him he did a great job and potentially thwart any diva meltdown that might be brewing before it can take hold. He’s nowhere to be found, but she accidentally runs into Maya and Isadora instead.

Maya is in the midst of talking Isadora down from stress over the rehearsal process, the latter just finishing up lamenting how she can’t help the techies and that might be becoming a real problem, but she’s stressed that she can’t keep up with the performers either.

They both grow quieter when they realize they’re not alone, Riley giving them a tight smile. She apologizes for interrupting them, but Maya claims it’s fine as she actually has to go get ready for her own number. She backs off, giving the two of them the potential to talk.

There’s still an uncertainty between them, but it’s clear that Isadora isn’t unhappy to see her. Riley timidly ventures some advice based on what she overheard, explaining that she knows all too well how it feels to be the one who can’t keep up. She has no doubt that Isadora will catch up in no time, though, and she shouldn’t forget that she’s in this role for a reason.

Considering the walls Isadora has been hitting with Lucas and the techies, hearing such blatant encouragement is a welcome change. She nods, giving Riley a quiet thanks.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

The doors to the hallway on the opposite end of the stage kick open, Dylan and ASHER GARCIA arriving and declaring that they’ve successfully picked up the new supplies from Home Depot. It’ll take a lot of help to move it all, so all the techies head out to assist.

Harper is pacing the stage, determining who still needs to hang around for evening rehearsal. Farkle returns from the teacher’s lounge, looking less pale but still tired. Still he jogs up to Harper anyway, reporting for duty and asking if he should start working on one of his numbers again. Maybe “It Takes Two,” if Yindra is around?

Uncertain how to address him, Harper sort of blows him off. She claims they can probably hold off on his other performances until tomorrow, and perhaps he could use the additional rest. The last thing they need is another collapse. He grows frustrated at the dismissal, asking if he should then keep working on the set piece, or go back to the script library. There has to be something he can do -- but Harper has made her decision.

Harper: Farkle, you’re done for the day. Go home and rest. We don’t need you here anymore.

The sentiment obviously hits Farkle, although he swallows it rather than lashing back. He backs off as Harper switches back into directorial mode, calling for the cast and crew to meet center stage for a pre-dinner meeting. As she’s taking account of major players, one absence becomes immediately glaring…

Harper: Where the hell is Babineaux?

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - NIGHT

Babineaux, as it were, is in the costume loft. And there’s really only one reason that anyone besides Jade ever goes in the costume loft.

If there’s one thing to know about Charlie Gardner and Zay Babineaux, it’s that perhaps one of the most attractive traits between them -- and what brought them together in the first place, all things considered -- is one another’s talent (i.e. the boys certainly understand Artists Are Attractive). So following such a phenomenal performance of “Agony,” it’s unsurprising that Charlie felt the need to… express some things.

Their banter is playful like usual, the mythos of the costume loft giving them a faux sense of privacy as they kiss. Zay points out that Cinderella’s prince and the lad Jack hooking up would certainly make for an interesting twist, easily emphasized by the fact that they’re both currently in costume. Charlie takes his face, looking him over before shaking his head.

Charlie: Don’t get me started on the costume.

For what it’s worth, it is a good, appealing costume for a good, appealing prince. Jade did an excellent job. Such words aren’t necessary, however, as how eagerly Charlie kisses him conveys the message effectively enough.

Just as they’re getting into it, the doors opening to the loft from down below startle them out of it. Charlie lets out a panicked “shit” before Zay urges him to hide, both of them fumbling for a cover until Zay literally knocks Charlie over, behind a rack of costumes and out of sight.

Just in time, as Maya pops her head up on the ladder to the loft and asks him what the hell he’s doing up there alone. They’re grouping for rehearsal and he needs to get his ass in attendance. Zay nods in agreement and promises he’ll be down in a flash, waiting until she rolls her eyes and disappears again to let out a sigh.

Charlie digs himself out from the rubble and into a sitting position, flushed and obviously dazed. Zay drops down to start helping him, trying to take his hands and help him back up.

Zay: Holy shit, are you okay --

Charlie: I’m -- just go! Go, go, before she comes back.

Zay nods, dipping down to give him a quick kiss before darting down the ladder. Charlie sighs, falling back into the costumes.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The performers assemble on the stage in a circle, the techies continuing to move set materials while Harper discusses the rest of their rehearsal plan for the evening. Charlie jogs up and joins the group last, jumping in next to Yindra. When she asks him where the hell he was, he makes a face and shrugs like it’s no big deal. Nothing for her to worry about.

Given that tomorrow is their first full-day weekend rehearsal, and they’re only five days away from opening, the pressure is on to start cracking down. Harper releases the performers for a quick dinner break, and informs the techies that once they’re done moving things they can break for dinner as well. Everyone is dismissed.

All of them begin moving at once, the technicians heading back out the side door to keep working while the performers flutter off. Lucas hesitates when he realizes Isadora isn’t following them, calling after her.

Lucas: … Dora. [ when she faces him ] Are you not going to help?

Isadora: Oh. Well… I kind of want to eat with my castmates. That’s like… part of the bonding thing. You know?

Lucas: … oh, yeah. Sure. That’s fine, whatever. Break a leg, then. [ under his breath ] Maybe both legs.

It’s so hard to tell when Lucas’s sarcasm is dipping into genuine disdain. Isadora takes the spoken acceptance for what it’s worth, nodding and heading in the other direction.

Yindra and Nigel tease Zay about showing up so late to their meeting, pointedly wondering where the hell he was. Maya throws out that he was in the costume loft, to which both of them are like ooh, the costume loft? What could you possibly have been doing there, Isaiah? But the friendly jeers take on a slightly sensitive slant when Sarah throws in her two cents.

Sarah: No wonder Farkle keeps getting roles over you, now that he’s able to help with tech and perform while having a diva meltdown. You can’t even show up on time. But no, you’re clearly above it all.

Zay looks like he has choice things he’d like to say, but Riley distracts him and yanks him back towards the doors for dinner. She states that eating will make him feel better, but Zay pulls away and claims he just wants a few minutes alone to destress. He’ll catch up with her later.

Dave, on the other hand, is in no hurry to head to dinner. He’s still obsessing over his magnum opus of a set piece, growing nitpicky and getting a little too attached to it. Asher and Dylan are pulling him away, claiming that he needs food and like… healthy separation.

Lucas finishes bringing the last of the wood in and encourages his lieutenants to get Dave a good distance from this thing that’s eating him alive, to which they’re like aye, aye, captain. He starts to follow them out, then pauses, glancing over his shoulder at the set piece. Large, impressive, the most important piece of their set design. Then he leaves, casting the auditorium into quiet.

Farkle is the last one present, sauntering out into the auditorium with his things to discover he’s been left behind yet again. He supposes that makes sense, given that he was already blatantly dismissed, but it always feels more pointed when he’s standing all alone. He meanders to center stage, spinning and taking a look at the set. He stares up at it, contemplation coloring his tired expression…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Harper shares dinner with Eric, taking the chair across from his desk as she vents about the rehearsal process. She feels as though she’s doing her best, but this whole experience is still super overwhelming. Everyone looks to her for answers, and sometimes she doesn’t have them. Not to mention the attitude she gets from Farkle and how that’s morphed into a complicated dynamic she has no idea how to move forward from, and the techies clearly don’t respect her. That’s particularly frustrating, considering she was a techie when she first attended AAA all those years ago.

Eric talks her down, assuring her that she’s doing an excellent job. Especially given that they’ve only had… what, one student ailment and zero tantrums so far? That might be the least trauma they’ve ever encountered during a typical AAA production. What else could possibly go wrong?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Great question, Eric. As is storytelling tradition, the moment someone asks that rhetorical query, it must be answered.

Dave is heading back into the auditorium before everyone else, in good spirits and eager to get back to work. He’s humming to himself and dancing a little bit as he goes, coming back to the set building area and rubbing his hands to get back to work.

Only the moment he looks up, it’s as though we’ve entered a horror movie. The camera goes close on his face as he stares up above him, eyes wide before he screams bloody murder. Nothing but pure, abject terror -- Dave is quite the scream queen -- but why?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT - LATER

The central set piece has been majorly damaged. It’s a hollow shell of the beauty it used to be, pieces broken off and torn and holes through the paper mache. Totally vandalized.

It’s Dave’s worst nightmare. As we ease away from the damage, the full class assembled comes into focus. Isadora is staring up at the destroyed set piece, stunned, while the rest of the class discusses the damage in hushed murmurs.

Lucas jogs in on the heels of Nate, asking what the hell is going on. His jaw drops when he sees the set piece, as well as Dave huddled on the floor in front of it in a total state. Asher and Jade are kneeling on either side of him, attempting to comfort him. Lucas seems genuinely upset by Dave’s reaction, but Dylan pulls him out of it by asking him what the hell they’re going to do.

Riley adds that this is bad news for all of them, considering they only have five days of rehearsal left and that set piece took all production long to make. They simply don’t have time to put it back together at the same rate, at least not the way they’ve been approaching it so far. It’s going to take all of them dedicating time and effort to it while working overtime, including the performers.

Not to mention, as Charlie points out, who is to say that there won’t be more trouble? Only one of them could’ve done this as they’re the only ones in the school this late on Friday. Whoever openly sabotaged the show, they’re guaranteed to be in their midst.

Naturally, such a dark realization instigates a frenzied slew of accusations. After tossing some words around the popular narrative seems to narrow down to three potential suspects.

Haley: It was obviously Farkle. After everything that happened last year, what does he have to lose?

Yindra: Um, news flash, American Girl? Farkle’s not even here.

Nate: Yeah, but he was. He left after the rest of us, and no one saw him leave. Clear motive, clear opportunity.

Sarah: Yeah, except he literally wiped out like an hour before. I don’t believe he could do all that damage with his twig arms, let alone when he’s already running on dead battery.

Yindra and Nigel turn the tables on her, asking if she’s so sure, who the hell does she think did it?

Sarah: Seriously? Is this even a question? [ gesturing to Lucas ] Who is our local delinquent?

Asher/Dylan, in unison: Hey, no way --

Riley: I don’t think --

Lucas: Real ballsy of you to say so to my face, Sarah. Just because you enjoy constantly cutting down the work of your classmates doesn’t mean I get the same sadistic thrill.

Jeff: Yeah, why would a techie destroy another techie’s work?

Good point, but a lot of people seem to think Lucas isn’t a bad argument. He is always angry, after all, and he’s vandalized things before. He scoffs.

Lucas: This is so bullshit. This is profiling.

Zay: That’s not what profiling means, white bread.

Darby: Well I don’t know if I would be so smug, Zay.

Zay: The hell are you on about?

Darby: You’ve been acting kind of weird, too. And you weren’t at dinner until later.

Riley: Yeah, but not long enough to do that.

Zay: Are you seriously claiming I did this?

Sarah picks up the slack on this thread, pointing out that Zay was also pointedly late to their group meet up before dinner. He could’ve been getting everything ready then, and then he could easily pull it off quicker. Zay grows defensive, stating that he has better things to do than fuck with their production.

Nate: Yeah, because you’re always above everything, aren’t you?

Riley steps forward and rubs Zay’s arm comfortingly, obviously not believing it could’ve been him. Charlie also looks like he wants to say something, but as things grow more heated he keeps his mouth shut.

The in-fighting only ceases when Harper returns with Eric, both of them shocked at the state of the set piece. When she frantically questions what the hell happened, a bunch of people start speaking at once and it’s impossible to figure out what anyone is saying. It’s a lot to absorb all at once, so Harper snaps and tells all of them they’re dismissed for the evening. Clearly everyone needs to cool down, and they’ll figure this out during their 12-hour rehearsal day tomorrow.

It’s the first time Harper has raised her voice in front of the class, so everyone takes the demand seriously. They disperse, Eric going to assess the damage as Asher and Jade manage to pull Dave up from being a puddle on the floor.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

JACK HUNTER is in the midst of a dinner date with ANNE MARIE WINTHROP, beginning the transitioning from the meal to the… extracurricular portion of the evening. The mood is disturbed when his phone rings, Jack pulling back from her to check his phone.

He states that it’s work, which Anne Marie points out can wait considering it’s the weekend. He’s working on the work-life balance, remember? She regains his attention, gently pulling him back into a kiss… when his phone rings again. She relinquishes him with a sigh, Jack offhandedly explaining that with the musical going on right now, it probably has something to do with that. He’ll be quick, he promises.

Anne Marie watches as he dashes off with the phone, propping her feet up on the couch.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Farkle is in fact home for the evening, half-heartedly eating something for late dinner alone at the dining table. He jumps when his phone rings, surprised to see Riley calling. He answers immediately, not even sure what to say in greeting.

She says she’s simply checking in to see how he’s feeling, and also inform him about the set piece debacle and how that might impact rehearsals tomorrow. To his credit, Farkle seems stunned by the news.

Farkle: What? That’s terrible. It was fine when I left… are they going to fix it? I mean, we only have a few days before opening --

Riley explains that they’re going to get more information tomorrow. Farkle appears genuinely frazzled, but on the one hand, he is an actor. Or it could just be nerves…

He attempts to try and keep the conversation going with Riley, who he hasn’t really spoken to since the end of last year. But she finds an exit route and tells him she has to go, stating she’ll see him tomorrow before hanging up. Not giving him much of an opportunity to reconnect.

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

KATY HART is likewise on the phone, deep in a debate with their landlord. She’s talking numbers and clearly trying to negotiate something important, but she abruptly ends the call when Maya stumbles in from rehearsal. Based on her expression it’s obvious something’s up, but Maya does not seem in the mood for talking.

Katy: What’s going on? How was rehearsal?

Maya: Exhausting. Everything is bonkers as usual. Whatever. I’m going to bed.

Katy doesn’t argue the point further. Maya drops her duffle by the door and gives her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, stomping off to sleep.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The grueling 12-hour rehearsal kicks off with a tense start, the destroyed set piece looming over the cast and crew as they saunter in early in the morning. People continue to throw around their suspicions, particularly at Farkle now that he’s returned for the day.

Farkle: I’m amazed at the sexism on this stage right now. You all have decided on your three prime suspects, and yet, why are we only assuming a guy could’ve done this?

Yindra: It’s not our problem all y’all boys in this class are emotionally unstable.

Clarissa: Besides, that part of the set piece is too high up for most of us to reach.

Maya: Izzy and I are innocent for sure. We’re tiny.

Yogi: Step ladders exist.

Maya: Which is obviously what you used, you’re the shortest of all of us --

Harper ceases the arguing with her arrival, essentially banning discussion about the culprit. She wants all of their focus directed towards rehearsal and repairing the set, not trying to pin blame on one another.

Yogi: [ singing under his breath ] No what really matters is the blame, somebody to blame…

The investigation, Harper wants them to leave to the professionals. Which in this case, are Jack and Eric. They saunter their way in as she’s explaining the new rules, discussing heatedly as they make their way up to the stage. It’s clear Jack isn’t exactly pleased to be there, although he grows more somber when he gets a good look at the set piece for the first time.

The class, on the other hand, isn’t impressed.

Nigel: Them? They’re supposed to be our grand detectives?

Jack: Believe me, Mister Chey, there are dozens of ways I’d rather be spending my Saturday.

Harper: Principal Hunter and Mister Matthews have narrowed down problematic students before, and I am sure they’ll be able to do it again.

Jade: Yeah, because they did such a good job with the Confessions page.

The rest of the class agrees, lightly clowning the administrative duo. Like, sure. Let them try their best. No one seems particularly threatened by their involvement, and when Harper dismisses them to get into costume and make-up the three of them regroup.

Jack: How did I somehow end up dragged into yet another episode of Adams Unsolved? As opposed to, you know… running the school like a normal principal?

Eric points out never has his role been “normal.” But whatever, they’ll be able to figure it out. Which launches us into yet another classic Jack & Eric interrogation sequence…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack paces the office while Eric sits at his desk, both them tossing questions to each student that sits opposite them in the hot seat. The discussion tends to drift to what the class has deemed the most likely suspects, although no theory is exactly concrete.

Clarissa takes the seat first, offering her two cents. From there, it’s a game of popcorn. As each student takes the seat, it’s picking up from the last, but of course none are in conversation with one another.

Clarissa: I’m not going to act like I know anything for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucas did it.

Eric: Why’s that?

Sarah: Uh, maybe because… he’s a criminal? You two should know, isn’t there like a mega folder dedicated to chronicling his misdeeds?

Jeff: There’s no way Lucas would do another techie like that. Dave worked so hard on that set piece. He’s sort of a dick, but he wouldn’t go that far.

Yindra: Oh, sure he would. Lucas hasn’t cared about anybody but himself since like, last April. If that. He’s a pissed off white boy, they’ll do anything.

Clarissa: Not to mention he’s already sort of sabotaged the show. He was a good stage manager last year, but it’s been a mess this year. He’s all over the place and angry all the time, and that’s when he elects to show up at all.

Still, there are alternative points to his seemingly obvious guilt. Asher and Dylan are the only two students to be interviewed together, seated next to one another.

Asher: We were finishing unloading set pieces when the prep would’ve occurred, and all at dinner together when the vandalism happened.

Dylan: Yeah, and we all saw each other. Therefore, it could not have been Asher. Or me. Or Lucas.

Jack: And you’re sure you had eyes on all of your fellow technicians? At all times?

Dylan: Sure. There was me and Ash --

Asher: And Jade.

Dylan: And Jeff.

Asher: Nate, Dave --

Dylan: And Lucas. That’s everyone.

Then, of course, Lucas has his own take.

Lucas: All this proves to me is that no one in the junior class has a collective brain cell. I was helping the techies with the supplies haul -- because we’re the only ones who ever do any real work. [ nodding to Eric taking notes ] That’s called an alibi, did you jot that down?

Jack: Okay, okay. Cool it, Lucas.

Lucas: The supply move took about a half an hour, and then we were all at dinner together. Did I watch my friends like a hawk, no, but maybe that’s because I trust them.

Throwback to Eric with Dylan and Asher.

Eric: And you’re sure you saw him. The whole time.

Asher: Beyond a reasonable doubt.

Dylan: We’re sure.

With that confirmation, the mystery grows more befuddling. And Lucas is still defensive, but it’s not clear whether that makes him seem more or less guilty.

Lucas: Besides, why the hell would I destroy the work of a fellow technician? Let alone my friends? I’m one of the only people who gives a shit about what we do. Oh, and then there’s the little detail of uh, I didn’t do it!

Convincing delivery. But Lucas has lied before, so it’s not a guaranteed innocence. There are other potential culprits to consider, however.

Yindra: Lucas’s lame attitude aside, I don’t think he did it. I don’t think he cares enough. Farkle, on the other hand --

Charlie: Farkle has been acting kind of weird lately. Not that I think he did it, but I don’t know, he’s seemed on edge since he came back for school. Which makes sense, you know, given how last year ended...

Darby: If he’s been waiting for a chance to get back at all of us or further his reign of terror, this would certainly be a good move.

Solid points. But then, it still doesn’t seem all that simple.

Farkle: This is ridiculous. I was at home because I was sent home, you can call my parents and confirm. Or ask Miss Burgess.

Eric: People said that the vandalism could’ve occurred before you were picked up. There is a window enough for something like that.

Farkle: Mister Matthews, you saw me yesterday. Did I look itching for a scrap? No. I was tired, so I went home as directed and got some sleep. That’s it.

Logically, there are other holes in his potential guilt as well. He’s not the only one who believes in his innocence.

Jade: I mean, I don’t like Farkle, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Why would he sabotage a show where he has the lead?

Nigel: He hasn’t been nearly as rabid this year as he was last year. I get why everyone is automatically pointing fingers at him, but I don’t know, I don’t think vicious destruction is his vibe. Now, if we all suddenly came down with hay fever and lost our voices before opening night, then I might consider he did some kind of witchcraft…

Nate: Minkus is a stone cold bitch, but he cares way too much about his time in the spotlight to throw it away over something so stupid.

Charlie: Also, I saw him when he collapsed. He didn’t look good. I don’t think he would be running off to cause trouble after a fall like that.

Sarah: Oh, come on, is that supposed to be a valid excuse? He’s an actor. He could’ve faked the whole thing for attention. I don’t buy that as an automatic pass.

Then, there’s the third oddball suspect to have been afforded potential blame. He comes back into the conversation after Dave’s choked up explanation, slouched deep in Eric’s chair.

Dave: I swear, I left and everything was fine. It was perfect. Asher and Dylan dragged me out to dinner, but I ate really fast so I could come back and do the final finishing touches. And when I got back, it was a mess. It was --

[ Dave can’t speak further. A bit theatrical, yes, but who are Jack and Eric to judge what’s important to a student. Eric slides his tissue box across the table. ]

Dave: Whoever did it, they were prepared. They knew what they were doing. [ blowing his nose ] So either they already have some experience messing things up, or they took the time to be ready.

This throws back to what was observed quite aptly yesterday, which is that Zay has been having some mysterious absences of his own.

Maya: I mean, yeah, I had to go grab him from the costume loft. Which was kind of weird, since people don’t really hang out in there alone, but I seriously doubt Zay did anything. I mean, come on, he’s Zay.

Zay: I’m Zay, okay? I’m not into petty stuff like this. I have no motive and you all know it. I’ve never been a monster diva. I’m just a talented bitch.

Sarah: His motive is exactly that. He’s never been on the same level as Maya and Farkle, and even though he was the summer camp darling, he’s still playing second fiddle to Minkus. That would drive anybody to action, especially since Farkle sucks.

Riley: There’s no way Zay would do something like this. He is the nicest person at AAA, he would never do something so needlessly cruel.

Eric: But you said so yourself that he didn’t go with you for dinner. That he wanted to take some time alone.

Riley: Yes, but… that’s not the point. When he said that, I doubt he meant he wanted to go vandalize the set.

Isadora: I highly doubt it was Zay. He’s just the third party suspect people throw in there so it’s more exciting. He has no motive, and definitely doesn’t fit the profile for potential insanity the way the other two do. The only thing he’s missing is --

Eric: An alibi. If you can give me concrete facts on where you were, then we can clear this and call your whole involvement moot.

Zay: I told you, I went to the dressing room to take a breather and was out to dinner within like, five minutes. That’s not enough time to cause carnage that great.

Jack: If you were prepared, it might be. People said you were difficult to find before you all were dismissed for dinner.

Zay, exasperated: This is inane! I was in the costume loft, Maya saw me.

Jack: But she didn’t see what you were doing. And the costume loft is the perfect place to hide some items if you’re planning to do damage, based on proximity alone.

Eric: Is there anything else you can give us to work with? Anything to prove that you were there when you said you were. Did anybody else see you? Anybody that can vouch for what you were doing?

Zay holds his tongue, obviously thinking. There sure is one option, but whether he’ll talk…

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Case in point, Jack and Eric are exhausted when they wrap up their initial round of conversations. Their takeaway is essentially the same as the class -- that there are two clear obvious suspects and then Zay, but without concrete evidence to his innocence it’s hard to give him a pass while they’re still investigating the other two.

At least, Jack states, they can effectively decide on a punishment. Regardless of who did it, the punishment should be the same, and it should be swift. Eric is a bit surprised by Jack’s rigid stance on this, but he doesn’t argue the point. There’s no point in stressing about punishment when they have no one to punish.

From their outsider perspective, this is going to be tough. It would be more effective to be on the front lines...

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Which is exactly what Isadora is thinking as she goes to find Riley. She pulls her aside, checking that they’re in agreement that Zay being under investigation is insane. She proposes that the two of them work together to suss out the true culprit themselves -- or at least, clear Zay’s name, since he doesn’t seem too keen to do it for himself. Isadora also feels bad about all of Dave’s hard work being destroyed, and if she can bring the perpetrator to justice it might get her back in good graces with the techies.

Riley is desperate to help, and the possibility of reconnecting with Isadora through the mystery is a no-brainer. She declares she’s in, shaking hands with her to seal the partnership.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “He Did It” as performed by Curtains Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Although Harper specifically instructed the juniors not to speculate any further, they are hardly going to listen to such a directive. When the cast and crew break for lunch, a series of hushed discussions further deepen the suspicions against our prime suspects. Meanwhile, Dave snoozes in front of the set piece, so protective over it now that he can hardly leave it.

While their classmates share theories, Riley and Isadora eavesdrop and take notes for themselves. They exchange eyebrow raises and inquisitive looks as they creep around the set pieces, aiming not to be noticed by their gossiping peers. Following along with the slightly altered lyrics in this case is a must for the full effect.

As the round begins and the accusations build up, the number comes to an end with Lucas, Farkle, and Zay being backed into one another center stage, their classmates mocking their obvious guilt. But which one actually did it -- if any of them at all?

INT. AAA - JANITOR’S CLOSET - DAY

That’s for Riley and Isadora to attempt to deduce. They’ve taken inspiration from the likes of Buzzfeed Unsolved and American Vandal, using HARLEY KEINER’S office as a home base to set up their mystery board and compile evidence. He assures them he’ll help in whatever way he can, just to give him a holler if they need his assistance.

Thusly, the two amateur detectives start putting together a more comprehensive rundown of the timeline of the vandalism. This includes threading together texts, timestamps, in-person sightings, anything they’ve got. They’re mostly focused on clearing Zay, but if they can narrow down the actual culprit at the same time, then even better.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay is less concerned about clearing his name, seeing as it seems fruitless anyway. He’s running through choreography with Charlie in their usual studio, the subject only coming up when the latter brings it up.

He comments on how harsh the accusations seem to be getting, wondering if Zay is feeling okay. He doesn’t deserve to be under the gun like this. Zay shrugs it off, claiming that people always talk. Still, it’s unfair, and Charlie clearly feels for him.

Charlie: It still sucks. Especially because you of all people deserve it the least. I wish there was something we could do, I wish I could help.

Zay hesitates, contemplating whether bringing the issue up is even worth it. But Charlie is looking at him, full of sincerity, so he decides it’s worth a shot. He starts to say that there is a way he could help… by saying that he saw him in the costume loft and he wasn’t doing anything nefarious. The only reason people are still on him is because he doesn’t have an “alibi,” so if he says something…

Charlie’s expression shifts in an instant, going from empathetic to wary.

Charlie: Are you kidding? No way.

Zay: Listen, you wouldn’t even have to say what you were doing there. Just that you happened to see me, maybe at a different time than Maya. Or even just that we crossed paths. Eric isn’t going to grill you --

Charlie: No. No, man, I can’t do that.

Zay: Why not? You said you wanted to help. It won’t matter why you were there, you won’t even have to say --

Charlie, sharply: Yeah? What is the only reason people go to the costume loft, Zay?

Zay makes a face, conceding this point. He figured this wasn’t going to go anywhere, but Charlie’s reaction is admittedly stronger than he anticipated. He’s pacing, breathing uneven as he continues to refute the possibility. He’s on the verge of full-blown panic, a wild look in his eyes as he repeats his refusal.

Charlie: I can’t. No. No, Zay. I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t --

Zay: Okay. Okay… okay! Charlie, hey --

Zay takes his arms, getting him to stop moving and look at him. He shifts his hands from his arms to his shoulders to his face, trying to get him to calm down.

Zay: It’s okay, alright? Charlie, look at me. You don’t have to do anything. It’s fine.

Charlie, breathless: Well -- well what are you gonna do?

Zay: I don’t know, I’ll figure something out. But it’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Okay?

Charlie gulps, catching his breath and nodding. Trying to believe it’s true and come back from the edge. After a moment he pulls Zay into a hug, holding him tightly and tucking his head into his shoulder. Zay returns the embrace.

From the way he holds him, it’s so incredibly clear how important Zay is to Charlie. How much he cares about him, how much comfort he gives him and how safe he feels with him. He can’t fathom losing that just yet… even if the chances of problems are slim, it feels like too much to risk...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Giants In The Sky” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Charlie Gardner

A bold transition from the soft intensity of his moment with Zay, Charlie’s eyes are wide and shining in the stage lights as he launches into this energized soliloquy.

Jack’s fictional dilemma of straddling the worlds of giant and mundane somehow perfectly encapsulates Charlie’s own current conundrum -- the pull between being a good Catholic boy, the perfect son, the world of “the roof, the house, and your mother at the door,” versus… well, being himself. Unapologetically. Without hesitation.

A world dazzling and elusive enough to be compared to the fantasy world of giants.

Much like his rendition of “Empty Chairs” from last year’s musical, the solo is bursting with emotion. Despite how he’s handling things personally, there’s no doubt that Charlie knows how to deliver a performance -- even when he so often fades into the background.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

The full Matthews clan is assembled for the first family dinner in a spell, TOPANGA LAWRENCE keeping up light conversation. Riley and AUGGIE MATTHEWS engage with her, but CORY MATTHEWS mostly keeps his eyes on his plate. Riley can tell that something is up, much in the same way she sensed the dread of the divorce before the blow actually landed.

Topanga doesn’t make her wait too long for the other shoe to drop. As they’re finishing up, she calmly explains that now that the divorce is nearly finalized, things are going to start changing a bit around here. Most imminently, Topanga is going to be moving out of the apartment and into her own place in Midtown.

Riley is totally floored by this development. The notion of her mother actually leaving makes it feel… real, like she is not going to be present in her life all the time any longer. She worriedly asks if Topanga is still going to be around -- is she coming to Into the Woods? -- but her mother brushes off her worries with easy confidence. She’s simply moving to Midtown, not evaporating.

Even still, the revelation is gobsmacking. Silence settles over the meal, Cory notably mute as Riley eyes him across the table. Topanga changes the subject nonchalantly, as if the impact of the moment has already passed.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Eric and Jack are still at school, working together to organize their testimonies and search for possible clues they might’ve missed. But there’s no clear trajectory, and both of them are well aware there’s a good chance half of the students are lying anyway.

Also, the fact that Jack is distracted doesn’t help. He’s constantly being pulled away from the brainstorm by text messages, his work-life balance equally present at school as at home. Although it’s not a crime to keep his girlfriend updated on their status, Eric isn’t taking to it well. He clears his throat to regain Jack’s attention.

Once they get back to discussing, Jack wonders why they’re still here anyway. Clearly they don’t have an answer, and what should matter is making the consequences of such behavior clear. If they can’t figure out who did it and give them the rightful punishment -- suspension, likely -- then they may as well do some sort of moderate penalization to all three prime suspects and call it a day.

Eric is confused by this perspective, especially coming from Jack. What happened to innocent until proven guilty? And furthermore, this is a far cry from the man who was so torn up over how to handle the removal of a student who was proven guilty only a few months ago.

Jack: Yeah, and how much good did that end up doing, huh? Everything is still in shambles.

Ah. So we’re not handling that as well as we thought. Eric starts to try and get him to talk about it, but Jack shrugs it off. The point is, when the time comes someone will have to face the music. Anne Marie is an attorney, and this is the kind of business she deals with all the time. If there’s no consequences, then no one will ever learn the status quo.

As the girlfriend comes up in conversation again, it’s Eric’s turn to react off the cuff. He points out that Anne Marie doesn’t work at AAA, and this isn't court. It’s high school, and their focus is on the kids and trying to figure out why they’re making the decisions they are rather than coldly punishing them for them. At least, that’s his approach...

Jack is offended at the insinuation, firing back that Eric knows damn well how much he cares about this school and the students. It’s not his fault someone has to be the authoritarian, because if he doesn’t, then chaos reigns as it has for the last six months.

The tension between them is palpable, and suddenly it’s as though they’re back in time. Arguing about the same old things, criticizing one another for things they thought they had moved past or come to appreciate. Jack backs off first, claiming this is going nowhere and they’ll just have to see where things go. They’re not doing anyone any good by snapping at each other.

As Jack departs, Eric settles into his desk chair. He watches where Jack left, shaking his head. Obviously not sure why he got so heated in the first place.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

As the last three days of rehearsal roll around, the mood is decidedly frantic. People have grown less concerned with who amongst them is a vandal and more so with being able to go on for opening night at all. The techies are running on overdrive to repair the set piece, which is no comparison to its former glory.

Amidst the chaos before another run through, Isadora gets a call. It’s from VALERIE DE LA CRUZ, who beats around the bush before regrettably letting her know that something unexpected came up and she won’t be able to make the show anymore. Promotion for a new project, or something, that she wishes she could blow off…

Isadora swallows her shock, playing it cool on the phone. She assures her it’s no big deal, and she nods along as Valerie apologizes and promises they’ll see each other soon. But as soon as she’s through with the conversation her demeanor shifts. Suddenly, all the chaos around her is too loud, too imposing. She has to get out of there.

She retreats and makes a dash for the dressing room hall. Lucas notices from across the stage at the stage manager’s podium, expression shifting from its recently adopted constant state of irritation. He passes off his binder to Asher offhandedly, going after her.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Lucas wanders at a jog through the halls, clueing in to where Isadora is once he hears her light cursing. He finds her a bit away down the hall, slouched against the lockers on the floor and hiding her head in her hands.

Instantly softer, Lucas approaches and settles down at a crouch next to her. She’s startled at first but seems relieved when it’s only him. Without even saying anything, Lucas reads her expression and gets a sense.

Lucas: It’s Valerie. Isn't it?

There’s no point in denying it. Isadora huffs, nodding and twisting a piece of her costume. Lucas drops down to lean back against the lockers with her, scoffing in distaste.

Lucas: I always knew she was full of shit.

Isadora: I know, I know. “I told you so.”

Lucas: No, I don’t mean it like… look, Dora, it’s fucked that she did that. And you have the right to be pissed about it. I get that you’re trying to, like, open a dialogue with her or whatever, but you don’t have to let her push you around. And you shouldn’t feel bad for being upset that she dropped you again.

Fair points. Tough to hear right now, but it is nice to have someone unquestionably in her corner. She nods, giving him a weak smile and taking a deep breath.

Lucas: … you know, it’s her loss. Her fucking loss if she’s willing to drop Isadora Samantha Miracle “Smackle” De La Cruz.

Isadora: [ with a small laugh ] Did you really have to use the full name?

Lucas: Yeah.

Isadora: Careful. If you don’t stop, people are going to think you give a shit.

Lucas’s turn to laugh. It’s a dry humor, flat delivery from both, but reflects something effortless between them that’s felt off-key lately. Lucas tilts his head and gives her a lazy smirk, causing her to roll her eyes. But when she looks away, she’s smiling too. Something might be clicking back into place…

Until it’s not. The peace is disrupted moments later as Maya flurries into the hall, heels of her boots clicking and voice almost louder than usual as she rushes over to them.

Maya: Hey, I got your text. What the hell happened?

Lucas tosses a puzzled look to Maya, wondering what she’s doing there. It takes him a second to realize her words indicate that Isadora beckoned her -- before she even thought of him. He immediately grows stiff again as Maya comes to crouch in front of Isadora.

The conversation takes an interesting turn as both of them attempt to occupy the space and comfort her, taking very different approaches. Whereas Lucas defends Isadora’s feelings and digs his heels in further about Valerie being reprehensible, Maya encourages her to take a more logical approach. They both know Valerie is busy, and there’s no way this is personal. It sucks, no doubt about that, but no use in getting so fired up about it.

It’s clear Lucas finds Maya’s level head in this situation ironic given her usual behavior. But more than that he feels extraneous, like he doesn’t even need to be there at all. And if he hears one more earnest defense of Valerie De La Cruz, he might projectile vomit. So he excuses himself, bitterly leaving Maya to take over the comforting.

Maya asks if there’s anything she can do, but Isadora claims she just needs a little bit of time to regroup. Maya gives her that, assuring her she’ll catch her up if anything happens in rehearsal before leaving her on her own.

As Isadora pulls herself up off the floor, she takes a long, deep breath. Then she adjusts her costume on her shoulders, the red cape on her shoulders reminding her that she has a major role. And she earned that on her own.

Jeff appears at the end of the hall, calling for her and stating that they’re getting ready for her solo. Eyes blazing with emotion, Isadora nods and marches back towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Know Things Now” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

Isadora delivers a great rendition of her musical solo, the whole performance alight with a certain edge only she could bring to the role. She’s channeling all of the frustration over how this situation has panned out, reflecting how she was tricked by The Wolf (Valerie, in this case) rather than listening to the well-intentioned but rigid sense of her granny (Lucas).

Towards the end, we see Isa leave the stage, her performance over, and check her phone. She has a text from Valerie on the lock screen, but Isa locks her phone and puts it aside.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Zay is touching up a piece of his costume when Farkle enters, the two of them making eye contact in the mirror. Neither of them say anything at first as Farkle heads to his station at the counter, but Zay opts to break the silence.

Zay: It’s fine, you can speak. Given that we’re both suspects in this shitshow of a crime mockumentary, I guess I hardly have the right to act like I’m above your complaints.

Farkle shrugs, claiming he doesn’t have any complaints. The moment this happened he was a guaranteed target, which may very well be what the perpetrator wanted anyway. He finds it more odd that Zay doesn’t seem to be doing much to defend himself, if he’s so innocent. Especially given that from what he’s sussed out, if no one comes forward it’s more than likely all three of them are going to be punished.

This is news to Zay. He scowls and slams down his make-up bag on the counter, fed up.

Zay: This is such bullshit. What, my classmates all decide they’re the Supreme Court and put me on trial for no reason, and suddenly that’s as good as guilty? All because someone had to have another meltdown?

Farkle: Well, don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.

Zay glares at him, obviously disbelieving. But Farkle seems serious, his lack of theatricality lending a weird credibility to his statement. The two of them have their stare down, searching for the cracks in each other’s facade…

When commotion from the dressing room hall breaks them out of it. Yogi darts in, out of breath and somewhere between thrilled and panicked.

Yogi: It’s finally happened. It’s jungle madness.

Zay and Farkle exchange bewildered looks, running to follow Yogi out.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Tensions seem to be at a boiling point in more places than just the dressing room, and from unlikely culprits at that. The progression of a scene has been derailed by a section of the new set piece falling apart, causing the nearly decapitated Maya to throw some choice words at the technicians. Jade and Asher have stepped up to take defense against the performers, and voices are already at high volume when Zay and Farkle arrive.

Jade points out that all the performers ever do is criticize, when the whole thing could’ve been fixed far more efficiently if they chipped in like they were supposed to. Asher questions if they all magically forgot everything they learned about tech last year, to which Maya retorts that maybe if the set design wasn’t so damn complicated in the first place, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Dylan, loudly: Hey, fuck off, beauty queen.

[ The assembled cast and crew reacts accordingly, surprised and somewhat amused. ]

Asher: Dyl, it’s fine, I can handle myself. [ to Maya ] Fuck off, beauty queen!

It’s clear the negative mojo is spreading like wildfire. Riley attempts to get the arguing to stop as Lucas jogs down from the booth with Jeff, questioning what the hell is going on. The performers continue to rail on how everything has fallen apart because of this damn set piece and now the replacement looks like garbage, and Dave finally snaps.

Dave: Well tell that to whichever one of you bent muppets did this in the first place!

Once again the blame train is running, only this time it crashes. The shouting quickly escalates and suddenly the scuffle turns physical, people launching at one another in a frenzy. Dylan holds back Asher by the waist, keeping him from going full scrappy. Lucas leaps in and attempts to hold Dave back from charging half of the ensemble. Charlie yells for everyone to cut it out, getting yanked out of the way by Zay before Sarah can elbow him on accident.

As Harper and Shawn rush in and start pulling people apart, Riley and Isadora zero in on a couple of interesting features to the brawl. Isadora is focused on Lucas, who has allowed Shawn to handle Dave and is keeping Dylan and Asher from completely throwing down with Maya. Something about the moment seems to stand out to her, just slightly off…

Shawn effectively halts the fight, effectively getting them all to head in different directions. He spits out a criticism, obviously over the tension.

Shawn: Have you all gone feral? Absolutely ridiculous!

Harper angrily declares that they all need to cool off and separate. They need to be back in fifteen, and the next person who causes any trouble is out of the production. Doesn’t matter if they’re stage crew of the star of the show.

Riley has her eyes on the opposite end of the room, where a security camera has caught her attention. It’s not facing the stage where the fight is unfolding, but rather a more promising angle -- a perfect view of the costume loft doors.

INT. AAA - JANITOR’S CLOSET - NIGHT

Isadora and Riley eagerly regroup, the latter launching into a breathless explanation of what she noticed. There’s a camera that’s directly facing the costume loft, which is what Zay’s alibi hinges on. If they can get access to the footage and prove that he never returned to the loft within the time stamps of the crime, then they can clear him.

They ask Harley for help, considering he is the local secret tech guru and likely has access to the servers to look at that section of the tape.

Harley: Technically, it would go against the janitorial code to share security intel with students just based on a simple request…

Isadora: We’re not asking to goof around, Janitor Harley. This is a quest for justice.

Riley: All we need is that one section. Please, it’s for a friend. A really good friend.

It seems like Harley is considering it. He gives them both an eyebrow raise.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - NIGHT

Shawn comes to find Harper, commenting that whatever just happened was a major clusterfuck. How the hell does she plan to deal with this? Feeling cornered and overwhelmed, Harper finally lashes out at Shawn.

Harper: Oh, how am I going to deal with it? I’m amazed you don’t already have all the answers. I’m shocked you haven’t already written down every possible solution I could offer and have some snarky, neckbeard rebuttal to every single one!

Shawn is stunned by the dig, starting to defend himself. Only Harper isn’t finished -- she’s far from finished. She posits that part of the reason everything is such a mess is on him, and their inability to work together. That’s on him, because since the moment she arrived he has done nothing but belittle and sabotage her and offer not one shred of solidarity.

Harper: I don’t know what midlife crisis you’re working through, Hunter. I’m sorry I’m not your beautiful, powerhouse girlfriend, and that I’m not here to have sexually charged banter with you when our focus should be on the students. But all I’ve done since I got here is try, and I know for a fact the same cannot be said for you. So before you dish out all the responsibility onto me, I think perhaps you should take a quick look in the mirror you clearly hardly bother to look into on a daily basis.

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond, storming past him. Shawn blinks, trying to absorb what the hell just happened. He glances at his reflection in the mirror wall, tentatively touching at his scruffy beard.

Shawn, petulantly: It is not a neckbeard…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

We’re close on a laptop, playing the security footage from the costume loft camera. The seconds are ticking by fast, the film on fast forward as Riley searches for the right time stamp. She and Isadora are leaning over either of Eric’s shoulders.

Eric: And how exactly did you get access to this again?

Riley: Don’t worry about it.

Isadora: A respectable investigator never outs their sources, Mister Matthews.

Well, hard to argue with that. Riley doesn’t give him the opportunity anyway, letting out an exhale as she claims she’s found the correct moment.

We’re looking at the doors outside the costume loft, the footage a little grainy due to the lighting and in classic conspiratorial black-and-white. As stated in his alibi, the three of them watch Zay duck into the costume loft. Riley jumps forward a bit, showing the moment Maya enters to retrieve him and he follows out a moment later.

For a second, the clip keeps running… potentially long enough to reveal another junior leaving the costume loft during that same sequence. But right before Charlie emerges from the doors, Riley pauses and jumps forward in the timeline.

The evidence as good as proves it as she lands on the time frame of the vandalism -- Zay never returned to the costume loft. If he was prepping something in there, they would’ve seen him retrieve it. Yet, there’s absolutely nothing to see.

Eric seems pleased to agree that the footage is pretty damning. He feels confident marking Zay off as a suspect. Riley and Isadora exchange relieved smiles, high-fiving behind their counselor. Then they rush back to rehearsal, Riley giving Eric a quick side hug before she goes.

Once they leave, Eric watches the clip back again to double check their findings. Everything checks out, so there’s nothing more to see… only this time he doesn’t hit pause so quickly. He jots down some notes instead, lifting his gaze just in time to see Charlie emerging from the costume loft a few minutes after Zay.

Eric frowns, reaching forward and rewinding to make sure he saw that correctly. He might’ve misseen it, or made it up -- it’s almost a blink-and-you-miss-it exit.

But no. That’s definitely Charlie Gardner, accounted for in the costume loft at the same time that Zay was supposedly in there alone.

He may not be a student, but Eric has been a beloved faculty member at AAA long enough to know the reputation the costume loft has. Suddenly, Zay’s reason for being there is crystal clear -- as well as why he couldn’t provide a compelling alibi considering the shock of seeing Charlie was strong enough to cause him to double take.

Eric absorbs this new bombshell, the frivolity of the vandalism now old news.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Harper has reached her breaking point. She’s in tears as she occupies the chair opposite Jack’s, succumbing to the pressures of an admittedly rough transition. For all the effort she’s putting into it, the impact she wants to make, nothing seems to be working out. Everything is just friction, not forward momentum.

Jack allows her vent, listening intently. He apologizes again on behalf of the junior class, and commends her for taking the initiative to connect with this particularly challenging group of students so seriously. They’re lucky to have her, even if they don’t realize it yet.

After she’s calmed down a bit, Harper thanks him. She tells him sincerely that he’s a good administrator, a sentiment that clearly touches him given how out of balance he’s felt about his position as of late.

Jack: Yes, well, I’m sure some of them would disagree with you. I’m not exactly the most popular faculty member here at Triple A.

Harper: From what I can tell, you’re the only reason it’s still running. Your unique combination of compassion and authority is what is keeping it from burning itself to the ground.

Jack laughs, thanking her for the support. Pulling herself together, Harper gears up to go face the beast once again. Before she leaves, however, she requests that when Jack and Eric figure out who vandalized the set, they let her know. She wants the responsibility of bringing them down -- and if possible, she wants them expelled.

Clearly, Harper is not happy with how her first production has been so drastically derailed. Jack nods along, still on his authoritarian kick.

Jack: Believe me, Miss Burgess, justice will be dealt.

She nods appreciatively, stepping out.

INT. AAA - JANITOR’S CLOSET - DAY

Mission mostly accomplished, Riley and Isadora begin taking down their investigation materials. Although they work in content silence, Riley takes the initiative to state how nice it was to work with Isadora again. To be on the same page.

For what it’s worth, Isadora feels the same. They exchange tentative smiles.

Isadora: You know, given how much of a mess things seem to be no matter what we try to do… I don’t see why I should be willingly giving up a friend.

Riley’s smile widens. Finally, something falling back into place. Not the same as it was, but better than nothing.

As she finishes gathering her things, Riley claims it’s a shame they weren’t able to narrow down the actual culprit. Even though they were able to clear Zay’s name. Isadora agrees, giving her a nod as she heads out.

Only as soon as she’s gone, Isadora launches back into action. She doesn’t seem at all finished with the investigation, going through certain pieces of evidence one final time and putting pieces together. Perhaps she knows more than she’s letting on…

INT. MAYA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Katy is up late, doing research on her laptop and looking particularly drained. It’s hard to see what she’s looking up, but a couple of photos appear to be buildings of some kind. She changes the window as soon as Maya enters, having just finished her nightly routine and picking up her pre-sleep tea from the countertop.

While she has her attention, Maya enthusiastically reminds Katy to purchase her tickets for Into the Woods when they go on pre-sale tomorrow. Not that they’ll sell out, likely, but Maya wants to make sure she’s front and center for her grand performance as The Witch.

From the expression on her face, whatever Katy says next is not going to be pleasant. She gently informs Maya that she has to work a double shift that night, so she won’t be able to make it. Things are sort of tight right now financially, and she doesn’t know if she can spare the ticket.

Maya nearly drops her tea. She doesn’t understand what the big deal is. Money is always tight, and this is one of her dream roles. Katy knows how much this show means to her. She already told her she’d be there. Can’t there be an exception? Just for opening night?

It’s evident that she wants to make an exception more than anything… but for whatever reason, her hands seem to be more tied than usual. Katy apologizes profusely, but Maya merely swallows the disappointment and says she’s heading to bed. But the darkness of the news looms over them, and perfectly sets the tone for Maya’s launch into her lament…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lament” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

Maya spins to face the stage lights, in full costume and makeup for the glamorous version of The Witch. The only thing more stunning than her appearance are her vocals, cutting through the heartbreak of the solo like a knife. It’s haunting, setting the perfect backdrop…

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

For Isadora’s meeting with Principal Hunter. She thanks him for meeting her during the lunch hour, expressing that she thinks she has evidence that might help him solve the vandalism case. She explains that she observed some odd behavior during the fight that broke out at rehearsal, and it tipped her off. So she went back to look through the evidence... and things don’t add up.

Jack takes a look at the timeline she hands him, his expression difficult to read. He doesn’t look triumphant or pleased, that’s for sure. Isadora doesn’t either, simply stating that he should go back and look more closely into the student testimonials -- a couple in particular... but maybe not as a couple at all.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

This is how Jack ends up sitting down with Dylan and Asher, only separately this time around rather than as a given duo. As he discusses with each of them, under the casual guise of just double checking his sources, it becomes clear that there are holes in their story. The moment they’re not together to back one another up, their airtight delivery falls apart somewhat.

Asher claims that around the time of what would’ve been prep for the vandalism, Lucas was holding the door so that Nate and Jade could move a stack of wood; Dylan claims that he was with him unloading the Jeep. However, when Jack goes back to read the testimonies of Jade and Nate about their role in the supplies move, Lucas is never mentioned.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Isadora concludes her explanation, stating that the reason she got suspicious was because Lucas jumped in to stop the fight during rehearsal rather than join in or egg them on. Not that he revels in destruction, but if she knows anything about him, it’s that he never lets someone else take the fall for his actions. He wasn’t going to let the performers get roughed up for something they didn’t cause -- even one as aggravating as Maya.

She also begs Jack not to say anything about her involvement -- that she remain anonymous. He gives her a nod, looking back at the evidence solemnly.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

We’re following Lucas and his snapback from behind as he makes his way through the halls of AAA, there early to help set up for opening night. He knocks on Jack’s door, claiming that he asked to see him. Jack nods, gesturing him inside and to shut the door behind him.

The conversation starts off with their usual rapport and comfort, Lucas slouching into his chair across the desk from where Jack is standing. He states cheekily that they should probably make this quick, as he’s got lots of stage managing to do and all that. Jack promises not to take too much of his time, beginning a subtle and targeted questioning of how Lucas recalls the day of the vandalism. It seems like they’re simply still beating a dead horse, but he plays along anyway, not even realizing he’s being interrogated until about halfway through.

And by that point, it’s too late. He’s slipped up, said a couple of things that don’t line up with his original alibi or conflict with the other techie testimonies. Then Jack pulls out all the stops, the discussion growing tenser and quicker with each piece of evidence he stacks against him. As he starts laying out the timeline of how things really happened --

INT. AAA - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

We see it unfold in real time. Lucas taking his longer look at the treasured set piece, then ducking out of supplies haul and techie dinner to make moves. Asher and Dylan notice him disappear at dinner, but merely exchange a look and don’t say anything about it.

The flashbacks unravel with Jack’s pointed narration -- and Lucas’s protests -- heightening in intensity right up to the moment flashback Lucas makes the first dent in the set piece and begins the vandalism. Just as the screen is shrouded in black by falling debris --

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Finally, finally, Lucas cracks.

Lucas: Alright, ALRIGHT! I did it, is that what you want to hear? It was me! I fucked up the set piece!

The office is cold with silence. Lucas tries to hold Jack’s gaze until he can’t take it any longer, falling back in the chair again and tearing his eyes away.

Jack doesn’t speak with anger when he addresses him again. It’s a gentle disappointment, and admittedly confused. He asks if the vandalism was worth it, why he thought any of it was a good idea in the first place.

Jack: And I don’t understand… to have Asher and Dylan lie for you?

Lucas: I didn’t ask them to --

Jack: And what about Dave? Did whatever you were trying to deal with feel better when one of your good friends had to see their own hard work destroyed?

Lucas: [ almost inaudible ] You don’t get it.

Jack: You’re right, I don’t! I don’t get it, Lucas! So look at me and tell me why the hell you did this --

Lucas: Because it doesn’t even matter!

Lucas’s outburst is fierce, his anger more volcanic than it’s been all semester. Jack found a way to light the fuse and now he’s explosive, ranting about how everything they’re all obsessing over all the time is so stupid and means absolutely nothing. Why should it matter if a set piece gets ruined, when no one cares about what the techies do anyway? Why should it matter if his friends lie, when no one is even going to remember they were here in five years because no one cares about them anyway? It’s a stupid high school show, at a stupid fucking school, where his only talent is messing everything up because he’s a nobody who was never meant to be here anyway.

Lucas: So yeah, I did it. Do whatever you’re going to do. Suspend me, kick me out for good, drop me off the catwalk! I don’t care. I don’t care, none of it fucking MATTERS!

The declaration hangs in the oppressive quiet. Because despite the words he’s saying, it’s pretty clear Lucas does care -- from the way his cheeks are flushed, the way his voice cracks, how it’s almost like he can’t breathe. And the only reason he’s able to look Jack in the eyes and basically dare him to do his worst is because that’s what he wants.

He’s searching for punishment, because he thinks he deserves it.

Eventually Lucas can’t take it anymore, shaking his head and hiding in his hands. Jack stares at him, obviously deep in thought. He’s been preaching about the swift soundness of consequences all investigation long, and finally, the time has come to deliver it...

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley is gearing up to get ready to go, duffle bag ready on the couch. Before she grabs it, she gets a notification on her phone from Instagram. Yindra has tagged her in a series of photos, featuring throwback pictures from Les Mis and a caption encouraging people to come to opening night of Into the Woods to see the same crew pull off another insane performance.

Seeing the Les Mis photos is a true shock. It feels like a million years ago, and as she flips through them again she can’t help but ruminate on how much has changed for the worse. Maya’s tantrum aside, everyone was in much better spirits at the time. She had a tentative friendship with Charlie. She wasn’t on the rocks with the techies. In fact, there’s a particularly cute moment captured of Riley, Isadora, and Lucas in the background of one of Yindra’s photos, prompting Riley to go into her photos and take a look for herself.

It’s all too much. The pictures with Lucas, the photos taken with both her parents, when now one of them is stepping out of their home for good.

Before she knows it she’s in tears, wiping at them frantically without much success. Cory enters from the hall, asking if she’s ready to head out until he realizes what’s happening. He jogs over to join her on the couch, questioning what’s going on and trying to get her to talk to him.

Riley shakes her head wordlessly, trying to catch her breath and stop the tears. She hates crying enough in front of people, let alone her parents. But she’s hit a wall, and there’s no stopping them. She admits that this year is like freshman year all over again.

Riley: Yeah, I’m no longer the target, but no one is happy. People that should be supporting one another are at war. And now my mom is walking out of my life, and it’s like… everything is falling apart. When does it stop? [ tearfully ] I can’t do this alone.

Cory makes her look at him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He’s deeply serious as he assures her that just because Topanga is moving out of the apartment does not mean she’s disappearing. And that aside, she is not alone. She is going to get through this, and be stronger for it. But she’s not ever going to do it alone.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No One Is Alone” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Cory Matthews & Jack Hunter (feat. Riley Matthews & Lucas James Friar)

Cory softly leads us into the first verse of the emotional heart of the musical, attempting to comfort his kind-hearted, empathetic daughter (“Mother cannot guide you, now you’re on your own / Only me beside you, still you’re not alone”). For once, Riley opts to accept the comfort, leaning into him and absorbing the sentiment for all that it’s worth.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

As Jack continues to look at Lucas, something in his expression shifts. All plans and procedures go out the window as he takes on the second verse, vaguely insinuating that perhaps there isn’t such a simple solution (“Wrong things, right things / Who can say what’s true?”) It’s evident that he isn’t going to rat him out, and Lucas lifting his head to stare at him in surprise emphasizes how unprecedented it is.

It’s behind them now, but Jack’s continued words of advice serve as a warning to his wayward trouble-making technician (“You move just a finger / Say the slightest word / Something’s bound to linger, be heard / No one acts alone, careful, no one is alone”). He comes around the front of the desk and leans closer, Lucas hanging on his every word. It’s clear that he’ll protect him, but he can’t protect him against everything. He has to be careful...

Together, Jack and Cory go on with the themes about why people make mistakes, both of the moments between mentor and mentee feeling distinctly familial. And as the final chorus unfolds and Riley and Lucas quietly join in, a montage of small moments within other important bonds highlight the exact message that the song is attempting to convey.

Charlie accepts a hug from ELEANOR GARDNER as he heads out the door, wishing him the best of luck. AMBROSE GARDNER gives him a proud nod from his arm chair in the living room.

Haley, Nigel, Clarissa, Yindra, and Zay toast at Chubbie’s, enjoying a quick pre-show meal before showing up for call time.

Eric reunites with ANGELA MOORE as she shows up for opening night, giving him an enthusiastic hug in his office as Shawn watches fondly from the doorway.

The techie crew sans Lucas and Isadora is meeting for their pre-show hangout, laughing together and hyping one another up. They all give Dave a group hug, considering the production cycle he’s had.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

The last of the montage moments belongs to Isadora, who gets a call from Valerie that she opts to answer. Although we don’t hear the conversation, it’s clear from the joy that takes over her features that it’s good news. She excitedly grabs Maya’s attention, sharing the news with her.

Although she’s putting on a happy face for Isadora, it’s clear something about the news stings. Maya chews her lip as Isadora gets back to the call, the believability of her enthusiasm fading.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

And as the song comes to an end, we’re back with Farkle -- who is, in fact, quite alone. Behind him, Yogi and Nigel are doing a quick costume change and discussing how opening night is going so far, indicating that we’re already well into Act II. Neither of them acknowledge Farkle as they head out again, although it doesn’t seem to faze him.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - NIGHT

He lets out a sigh as he heads back into the dressing room hall, quiet save for the light sound from the stage leaking through the doors to the wings.

That is, until he thinks he hears something else. He listens carefully as the sound of crying becomes clearer, coming from the girls dressing room.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Maya is in there alone, attempting to stifle her tears. She keeps trying to take deep breaths and bring it back, but sometimes emotion demands to be felt.

Farkle pokes his head in, his suspicions confirmed. He debates entering for a moment, even almost turning away before he finds himself heading in anyway. Maya spots him in the mirror, letting out a huff and not bothering to reprimand him for being in the wrong dressing room. Her mind is far from that at the moment anyway.

Maya: How pathetic is it that a world famous starlet can show up on opening night for her bastard daughter, and mine can’t even skip one lousy shift at a run-down diner no one cares about? [ with a sniffle ] Maybe that’s karma.

Farkle approaches without comment, only speaking when he’s close enough that she could lash out at him and she chooses not to. Coast clear, he reaches into a pocket of his costume and retrieves a handkerchief, nodding to her.

Farkle: You’ll ruin your makeup.

Maya lets out a dry laugh, taking another deep breath. Farkle slowly reaches forward and touches up her mascara, dabbing at her tears and doing his best to fix them. It’s a surprisingly tender moment, a resounding echo of the way things used to be. And boy, does it ache.

Still, Farkle made his mistakes, and he has to live with them. Maya says as much, warning him in a murmur that this doesn’t change anything. She’s still pissed at him, and they’re not fine. He responds flatly, expressing that not once did he believe it would be any different. But he finishes helping her anyway.

Once she’s all cleaned up, her gaze lingers on him for a long beat. Then she warns him that he’s going to miss his cue, flurrying out and leaving Farkle in the dressing room. Alone once again.

He twists the handkerchief in his fingers, his starting vocals floating in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No More” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (feat. Nigel Chey & Stuart Minkus)

Much like his rendition of “Javert’s Suicide” a year ago, there is a subdued melancholy that drives Farkle’s performances that cannot be understated. Wherever all his manic energy went, it’s been replaced by a powerhouse of emotion that hits at something raw.

While Nigel starts off the song with him in his role as the Narrator, about a minute in the visual shifts and suddenly it’s STUART MINKUS on stage with him. Another Farkle Minkus twist on reality, his busybody father suddenly sharing the song about exhaustion and abandonment. Truly ironic, considering the real Stuart isn’t even in the audience.

But clearly, he wishes he was. There are many things Farkle wishes were different than they are, but he’s powerless to change it. “Like father, like son.” As he gets to the final verse, Stuart is gone too, and all there is to focus on is him. Solitary, center stage, delivering one of the most wrought out and impassioned solos he’s delivered in ages.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - NIGHT

Jack and Eric bump into one another as they’re both searching for Harper, aiming to wish her congratulations before the show ends and they’re swarmed by everyone else. They have a somewhat awkward exchange, uncertain how to address the last time they conversed and it ended in flames.

Ultimately, Jack opts to take the high road. He states that he figures he owes Eric an apology, as he let his frustration get the best of him the other night. And, unsurprisingly, Eric’s take on the situation proved to be a little more apt than he credited him for. Eric hardly seems like he’s going to hold a grudge, giving him a bracing pat on the shoulder and warm smile as he assures him there’s no hard feelings. It hardly matters anyway, considering there’s no one to sentence.

Before Jack can confirm or deny this, Harper emerges from the hall. They both greet her in enthusiastic whispers, not aiming to disrupt the performance entering its final scenes. She really did manage to pull together an astounding show, in spite of everything that happened. A great first notch in her belt.

Harper is grateful. Eric excuses himself, allowing Jack to share his own early congratulations as well. She accepts it, then questions what ended up happening with the vandalism. Was he able to figure out the culprit (she hopes)? Although there’s a moment of hesitation, Jack informs her that unfortunately, no guilty party ever rose to the surface.

Jack: Suppose the kids were right to belittle our amateur detective agency.

Harper seems disappointed, but Jack redirects her attention and reminds her that she won’t want to miss the final number. She nods, giving him one last thanks before jogging back towards the hall. So Lucas is never outed as the vandal, leaving the crime to remain an AAA mystery for the history books… and the orchestration of our finale pulls us away...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Finale / Children Will Listen” as performed by Into the Woods Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors (starting at 1:00)

We jump into the finale right as Yindra is giving her guidance from beyond, Farkle, Riley, Isadora, and Charlie gathered together at center stage and sharing their story with the new life that has entered their world. Farkle mentions each of them in his retelling to his son, the camera hanging on each moment between them.

As Maya takes over, more of the cast begins to filter onto the stage. As they reach the point of singing as a chorus, the message of the song takes on a stronger meaning as we hang on each of our main players. Focus on Charlie in the front row shifts to Zay behind him, halfway through the recitation of the lines “Careful the spell you cast, not just on children / Sometimes the spell may last past what you can see / And turn against you.”

INT. AAA - NIGHT

And the influence -- or lack thereof -- of family in their lives is paramount. Another post-show reunion with family highlights this well enough. Isadora accepts an overtly thrilled greeting from Valerie, although she remembers not to hug her and sticks to simply lauding her with congratulations. Asher and Dylan take a group selfie with their families in their all-black stage crew ensembles.

Farkle greets his siblings and mother, but the absence of Stuart looms large. Riley shares a tight hug with her mother, Cory watching bittersweetly with Auggie. Charlie chats with the full Gardner clan, Zay glancing over his shoulder towards him from where he’s standing with family across the room. Maya roams, uncertain what to do with herself.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - NIGHT

Lucas settles into the booth alone, sitting at the lighting booth and looking at the empty stage. He looks at the half-baked set piece, guilt more evident on his face than earlier.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In spite of all this, the show must go on. The episode wraps with the last minute or so of the musical, the entire ensemble coming together to repeat the final chorus until Riley whips back around to offer one more “I wish.”

Sometimes people leave you halfway through the wood, Do not let it grieve you, no one leaves for good.

Well… we wish.

END OF EPISODE.

#s2 #episodes #203 #i love this musical #there is... a lot going on !!!!!!

[grizztomysam]

Put Me Back Together

Grizzam Reunion Fic

Another one...bc there are a good handful of amazing reunion fics from our talented fandom writers.

Disclaimer...it started as one thing and then grew into this monster a crazy thing that’s probably all over the place but c’est la vie...so here it is people. From the depths of my unfinished drafts list to you. I just Thank the Lord it’s one more unfinished work finally finished.

LOWKEY NSFW and some trigger warning for brief suicidal ideation. 

============================

When Grizz returns, it’s to an angry and chaotic New Ham, now under moronic leaders puppeteered by a literal psychopath, Allie and Will in jail, his friends manifested into some modern type gestapo and his relationship with Sam as uncertain as the future of New Ham. 

Threat of burning into ash is strong and imminent.

He longs to march straight to wherever Sam is, start anew from where they had left off that day he decided to put down his hurt and pride and promise Sam he’d return. Wants to steal him away far from everything and into the woods. But he heads instead for the long trek to the other side of town towards his childhood home, empty and unused since New Ham happened.

He ignores how his lips still smart from their last kiss in the clearing by the woods, so sudden and ending too quick. Ignores how he can still feel Sam’s hot breath, hurried and aching against his neck, hear the quiet whimper when he hugged back, tight, that almost made him fuck it all and stay.

Almost.

But he can’t. He won’t. He mustn't.

Eden has arrived and Sam needs to step up to necessary obligations. Put all focus on keeping some semblance of peace and safety for his family. Becca needs him more. More than Grizz believes he does. Because he does not fit into the equation that is Sam’s life now.

Grizz had promised to come back safe, he did, but nothing more.

Perhaps if Campbell wasn’t sitting on the throne, orchestrating their little world to fall into rubbled ruin....

But things are different now then they had been two weeks ago. So much, too much has transpired.

A new born baby, a young mother and the possibility of everything ending in violent dissonance trumps romantic love.

Because it’s love for Grizz. For years, even from afar, it’s always been love.

Others would argue it was infatuation or some concentrated form of obsession for the forbidden. But you don’t ache like Grizz did or know for certain without hesitation you’d step into the line of fire if ever Sam’s life was in question if it wasn’t love. He would have sacrificed everything if it meant Sam would hurt a little less.

And that one night that had been so perfect he had stayed awake, his eyes wet long after Sam fell asleep, happy and sated, his head nestled close into Grizz’s chest. Stayed awake, tracing sonnets onto Sam’s arm in the dark, because he lacked the courage or his own words to say I love you in the light.

Even if the gnawing sting from his chest to his throat does not ebb after his fifth shot from the secret reserve in the bottom drawer of his dad’s home office. Even if the pain that pricks his eyes and makes his nose run wants to rip him in two when his mind clears once again from the haze and he’s left with nothing but a quiet that screams and won’t let him sleep.

And when he does it’s always filled with brilliant blues, freckled skin that tasted of salt and cinnamon, strong limbs tangled with his and a “Come back to me” whispered in his ear.

==========

A couple weeks pass and he’s proud of his resolve.

Though there is a small part that thrums with an ache. Wonders where Sam is, how the baby and Becca are doing. If she has the same brilliant blues of her father’s. Wonders why Sam hasn’t tried to contact him. He is quick to tamp it down and bury it deep with earth and cement. 

He keeps his head low. Stays home if he can help it, only ever venturing into town when summoned by the current counsel to report about there findings. He and the explorers inform with vagueness, a silent understanding and agreement to not divulge everything to the coup government. 

Because something is brewing. It is with lack of words or official declaration, but the air is thick with promised revolution. If Campbell knew this he had yet to act. But it was a matter of time before everything would come to an angry and bloody head. 

And there will be bloodshed. It’s certain when Campbell has an artillery to his disposal of almost half of the town’s confiscated guns. If only Allie had destroyed them all.

But there was a lot of things Allie should have done. 

It would be a matter of time before plans materialize and a new leader defacto arises among the rebels to free Allie and Will and save New Ham.

Matter of time.

But for now he’ll be a coward. He’ll turn from the pointed looks Gwen and even Gordie keep giving him. Refuse to open or read the growing ignored texts from the explorers and the committee for going home after catching them in a huddle one day hearing “Grizz” and “leader” among the heated but hushed exchange. Because for once he wants to be selfish.

Wants to wallow and be miserable and miss Sam and forget everything that has to do with starving to death, trials and killings, and growing up. 

==============

Week three begins and a brief snow storm falls, turning into sleet and icy roads. Activities lessen, tho the garbage piles still grow in heaps across town. The cold giving small mercies as the stench is not as potent if it had been under smoldering heat of summer. Everyone stays inside with the roads becoming dangerous to even walk the small distance from home to the cafeteria.

No one thinks to salt the road. But there’s not much thinking done under the new regime. At least for rational decisions that will benefit and keep the town afloat. 

Grizz is forced to venture into town. His food rations had gone down considerably low and he needs some type of ointment for a stubborn cut he’d acquired from the expedition that has turned into a rash on his forearm.

He laughs, the sound maniacal and foreign. This human thing to want to survive and live, despite the times when he’d flirted with dark thoughts. Skimmed his fingers against the plastic, orange containers in his mother’s vanity cabinet. Solitude can be loud in letting monsters you never knew you had take havoc. Can be frightening in it’s influence. But he could never do that to Sam. 

He’d promise he would come back. Even if he had to stay away.

=============

Its a slow and bitter cold walk as he inched his way to the nearest store, hoping the free for all terms Harry has laid out to the people hasn’t already depleted there food reserves. He’s careful not to slip and bash his head on the iced concrete below, but the harsh wind is a welcome distraction from cabin fever. He also admits to the sudden sharp want that perhaps he might see Sam today.

His head falls down quick onto his chest as he submits to an almost frenzied energy. It’s chanting incoherent nothings, forming into images of Sam’s lips on his. He can almost taste him. 

Fuck it all to hell because he needs to see him. 

As his feet move by some force that’s tethered to the direction of Allie’s, a pained almost animalistic cry cuts through the air and a thud as something or someone falls fast and hard on the icy ground. He thinks he hears a crack on impact.

His head turns so quick towards the fall, he almost snaps his own neck, eyes blurred against the flurries from the sky.

The figure is laying on its side at the bottom of the steps leading to the loading dock of the convenient store. Its unclear who at first, but it’s favoring its right arm, cradling it against their chest, their head curled into itself. 

When he sees the rust red hair against the garish white, curls peeking through a dark green hood, he knows its Sam. He almost takes a fall as he runs with a speed that threatens to pummel his ribs into his lungs, needling cuts into his already cold, dried and split lips.

Please be okay, the thoughts taste acrid and sour.

He skids to a stop and lands on his knees, immediate in taking Sam’s hooded head into his lap. He’s gentle but shaking, trembling hands cup Sams face, thumbs soothing against cheeks frozen and pale. The smaller boy is unusually quiet, no wails of pain. Its more choked and gutteral, broken hitches of breath, his eyes shut tight, jaw tense and clenched.  

“Baby!” he gasps “ I’ve got you--Fuck!” his lips against Sam’s furrowed forehead. One hand moves down the line of Sam’s bent and cradled arm to see if he can feel exposed bone. Sam winces sharp against the pressure but Grizz feels nothing although its hard to be sure against the layers of coat. 

“I’m here now, it’s gonna be okay” he whispers against Sam’s temple. 

It’s futile assurance. But he needs to hear it out loud. 

Then he feels a sticky wetness against his lips.

It’s blood. 

He blanches but swallows his panic, lifting the hood and combs back hair with a finger to see it’s but a small cut. He wipes the red from Sam’s hairline and from the corner of his mouth into the snow by his thigh, then moves one hand to feel into Sam’s hood and the underside of his head. He steels himself but his fingers feel only matted curls. 

He breathes, pressing once again his lips against Sam’s forehead. Sam has yet to open his eyes, but he’s leaning his head into the kiss.

He lets out a pained sigh, “Grizz?” 

And Grizz almost weeps. 

He tighten his grasp on Sam’s face, gives him another kiss, firm and on his cheek and moves himself back on his haunches. 

He squat and his thighs strain as lifts Sam to a sitting position, gripping the underside of Sam’s uninjured arm and holding steady over his bent one. 

He waits against Sam’s back when  Sam breath becomes more labored and heightened. Grizz sooths his fingers against Sam’s waist and can feel Sam’s stomach move in sporadic spasms. 

They need to get to the hospital now, but Grizz realizes that Allie’s house is closer, hoping to God someone will be there, preferably Gordie or Kelly.

Gripping his back and the underside of Sam’s uninjured arm Grizz hauls him up as gently as he can, gritting his teeth to the pained hiss from Sam’s twisted mouth. They stand for a minute, Sam’s back flush against his chest, his arms wrapped tight around his waist. Then he feels Sam nod twice against his chin, a small but brave sign and his heart is so full for this boy.

He maneuvers himself to Sam’s side, tucking with one hand Sam’s head into the crook of his shoulder, the other still wrapped around Sam’s back and holding firm, Sam’s bent arm against his chest. With careful steps he leads them both towards Allie’s.

============

It’s a long walk as he tries his best from moving too quickly as to keep from hurting Sam more, the only sound is the wind that’s grown angry and harsh, whipping the loose strands of his hair from its topknot hold into his stinging eyes, and Sam’s low whimpers he can feel the younger boy is trying to hold back. 

There’s also a small feeling of shame. Perched itself in the corner of his eye, shaking its judgmental finger in his periphery. 

Because it feels entirely too good to hold Sam again.

The panic and the fear of the moment is gone and now he’s drowning because Sam is in his arms and the universe would have to pull tooth and nail to get him to let go. 

He looks down when he feels a movement against his neck. Tears have fallen now, a blue gaze is looking back at him, dull but coherent. 

And he has to summon some unearthly strength from reaching down and touching lips against lips. 

So he faces forward, blinks hard against the telltale pricking of his eyes, tightens his grip on Sam as they walk onward, a hand cradling Sam’s cheek against his chest and tells his heart to fucking stand down as Sam nips at the knuckle of his thumb that has somehow found its way to his lips.  

============

The house is empty as they pass through the foyer and God he had missed this place. It’s warm and looks as it had more than a month ago before the coups and expeditions and heavy things like Sam being a father. 

He brings Sam to sit on the weathered leather couch closest to the living room archway and motions for him to stay. He’s relieved Sam’s breathing has evened and a warm blush has crept on his cheeks as well as a redness to his lips. 

Lips so lush and taunting, he finds himself moving closer and closer for a stuttered minute. 

But he forgets himself.

With Sam he’s come to realize he always will, because the circuits in his brain backfire and synapses no longer synapse and he’s mush. Pathetic gooey mush.

He can’t help it.

Like he even wants to.

So he forces himself to remember. 

Remember Sam is hurting something awful and he needs to prioritize and compartmentalize. Needs to go find the first aid kit and text Gordie or Kelly to get there as soon they can. He knows the basics of splinting a break if there is even one, hoping again to God there is none, but he needs help.

Turns from the flash of disappointment that flits through Sam’s eyes as he heads towards the kitchen. Pays no mind the feel of Sam’s gaze following him, burning into his back through so many layers until it reaches skin that’s grown coal hot, marked with memories of tongues and teeth. He almost moans as he grips the edge of the kitchen counter, willing himself to stop.

Now is not the fucking time.

It’s a quick search when he finds the a large first aid box in the wood framed glass case by the fridge. He grabs it and hurries back.

Hurries back to something so precious he both wants to swoon and go “Awe” with the same lilt he once heard from Bean after she’d found a baby orphaned squirrel near the football bleachers at school.

Sam has laid himself back, clutching his right arm tight, like a cocooned little thing. His shoes are now off, polka dotted socked feet propped up on the coffee table, and his long lashes against freckled cheeks with his mouth in a pout.

Grizz is sure he’s grinning like fucking goon, but he’s feeling all soft from the lightness he hasn’t felt for a long time that wants to swallow him whole and he’s okay with that. 

“Stop standing their like a creeper and come fix my arm..it still fucking hurts”.

Grizz starts, a piece of errant hair falling in front of his brow, and brushes it back, a nervous tick that always seemed to appear whenever Sam’s around. The boy in question is squinting back but there’s a quirk to his lips and the crinkled lines are showing in the corners of his eyes. 

Grizz shuffles forward, with a rolling of his own and slowly helps Sam back up, propping him with several couch pillows as Grizz settles himself on the edge of the coffee table, the first aid kit by his side.

He taps his finger on Sam’s chin when the younger boy’s gaze gets preoccupied in following the movements of his hands and an almost glazed hungry look stares back at him, lips slightly parted.

Lips that almost always looks bitten and swollen and made for kissing.

He’s definitely going to hell at how fast he feels himself go hard. There has to be some hidden commandment. Thou shalt not lust after ye patient.

He blames whatever Sam is feeling to the drunken haze of pain from his arm and busies his focus on telling the younger boy he needs to take off his coat so he can properly see his arm. Its slow work and he’s trying to be careful but he almost jumps up desperate, wanting to find scissors or something sharp and pointed so he can cut Sam from this damn thing because Sam’s breathing is heavy again and his lips have gone pale from the pain. 

And when it’s finally off he tosses it angry across the room, almost clipping the framed picture of some Pressman ancestor from its hang on the wall. 

The muffled chuckle that answers is worth it.

He’d miss Sam’s laugh. Sam’s laugh, which was some addicting thing he felt he was always chasing to get a high from.

He thanks the Lord above, who’s been unusual in his merciful generosity that the shirt underneath is short sleeved. The freckled skin of Sam’s forearm has turned a mottled angry mix of purplish red and there is slight swelling near his wrist, but there is no broken skin or exposed bone. He signs for Sam to move his arm at the elbow, which he does with little difficulty but when Sam moves his wrist it’s with a pained grunt, his eyes shuttering tight. 

Grizz is quick to grab his other hand, squeezing and encouraging to squeeze back, anchoring his thighs to steady Sam’s own that has now come to be between Grizz’s legs. He wants to spout some poetic line of how he’d take on his pain.

Let me be the balm to your hurt. Can I kiss it away?

But instead hes rifles through the kit for gauze and anything else he can fashion into a makeshift splint while they wait for Gordie or Kelly to answer and arrive.

He finishes wrapping the gauze securely around the splints that’s keeping Sam’s arm straight to the wrist and shakes to activate an ice pack from the kit, placing it firm against the gauzed covering. As he keeps the ice pack in place, he keeps his head down focused on Sam’s arm, anywhere but his eyes and lips, a finger trails the edge of his untucked shirt and slips under to skim against skin now pebbled with gooseflesh. 

His breath grows shallow as he looks up to see Sam’s stare, intense and unwavering, his bottom lip between his teeth. The blue in his eyes have gone a midnight hue. 

Grizz almost drops the ice pack. Or punctures it with how tight he’s now clutching the bag.

“You have anything in there for the pain?” Sam slurs, half signing with his left hand, his gaze travel to Grizz’s mouth, eyes fluttering languid and with purpose. 

He can only nod, his tongue grown thick, words having lost meaning or connection, his brain matter having melted into a liquid mess as he turns slight to rip open a small sachet of aspirin. When he attempts to place the pills into Sam’s free hand, Sam pulls away shaking his head. He tips his chin up and opens his mouth.

Grizz swallows the “Fuck” that wants to spill out, his nose flaring as he exhales and proceeds to offer the pills into Sam’s eager lips, his tongue darting out and its tip licking at Grizz’s forefinger. 

Grizz slips and catches himself with his hands on either side of Sam’s hips before he can fall onto Sam’s injured arm, but theirs a smirk on Sam’s lips as he leans forward, cutting the distance between them.

Sam has a fucking pain kink, his heady thoughts conspire. It’s the only explanation how Sam is currently trying to seduce him rather than writhing in pain.

Fucking wrong choice of words because it goes straight to his already hardening groin. And now surely he’s headed for the deepest level of hell.

“My head still hurts...kiss it better?” 

The words pull him from the fog in his head and he’s all too quick to comply. 

Because fuck it all he wants to play too.

He holds himself up, careful not to put any weight onto Sam and shift his head until his lips touch the clotted cut near Sam’s temple. He nips the spot twice then parts his mouth slight, leaving lazy open kisses that travel down until he’s sucking onto the soft pad of Sam’s ear that’s got the younger boy clutching tight onto the collar of his t shirt, his head lolled back, his spine arching and desperate. 

“Kiss me! I want you!” 

The plea is wanton, dripping with sweat and dirt, that the sudden urge to rut and shed his skin to howl at the moon is strong and overwhelms.

Pushes him over the edge as he grabs Sam’s nape with a growl, crashing hungry lips against hungry lips.

And its fire and ocean water salt and a spice he has no name for but heats the tips of his toes to his tingling scalp as he grapples and wrestle between control so he doesn’t crush and hurt Sam and the encompassing desire to devour him.

He is drunk on the mead of Sam tongue against his; wants the taste to become imprinted into the strands of DNA; wants this to go on and on forever. 

Because he doesn’t know if he can stop. 

Until a loud rapping on the wall and a clearing of one’s throat has him jumping back as if scalded, leaving Sam to chase after his lost lips, brows knitted together, eyes still shut.

“Um...I guess Sam’s all better now?” 

Kelly stands outside in the foyer having the decency to act sheepish. 

But Kelly’s always been kind. And Grizz is tired of pretending and running and staying away.

==========================

Hours later, Sam returns back to Allies from the ER, his arm having been xrayed and confirmed to have a minor hair line fracture to the wrist and forearm and his splint reinforced. Kelly is nothing but professional, doesn’t try to wheedle out details he feels others would.

“Becca’s staying over with Gordie at my place to wait out the storm with Eden. She won’t be home until later this week. But I’ll let them know Sam’s ok and wants to stay at Allie’s since its closer to the hospital.” She offers this with a small smile as she hands Grizz a packet of prescription grade painkillers.

Kelly had always been kind.

And now Grizz, has, once again, Sam’s back flush against his chest as they sit up against the cushioned headboard of the guest room Sam has adopted as his own. 

“It got too dangerous, with Campbell and all.” Sam whispers this, trailing a finger down Grizz’s arm wrapped around his waist, his breath steady and calm, lids heavy, the painkillers doing their job well. Whispers it before Grizz can even ask. 

“That’s why I didn’t bother to talk to you. I heard you’d returned. I wanted to see you I really did.” 

Grizz reassures that he believes with a soft kiss into his palm, intertwining their fingers.

“And I know why you had to stay away and didn’t come back to me” Sam lifts up and turns his neck to kiss him. 

There is no need to repent.

It’s a moment he wants bottled and preserved, placed high above some tall shelf that no one can reach. Not even Campbell and his militia and guns and the need to destroy and hurt and kill. 

But he knows he can’t hide forever. Doesn’t want to really anymore. 

Sam is back in his arms, where he belongs and soon he’ll meet Eden who he certain he’ll love fierce, as much as he does Sam.

And it’s fucking time to fight back. Stop being afraid.

Because he has been. 

Stop using reasons of staying away because it’s safer for all against monsters with human skin. when in reality they are invincible together.

I Love You, he signs onto Sam’s chest and he holds him closer, the moonlight twinkles and casts shadows from the filtering light through the window.

#Grizzam Fic #IDEK #from my drafts graveyard #it's actually come to see the light of day #grizz visser #sam eliot #grizz and sam

[beinfriends-a]

As I announced a while back, I am adding a few new muses to the blog; Bede and Leon-- but I’ve also elected to add Chairman Rose to the roster as well.  While I am still working on their bios (I’m trying to juggle homework and rp jdfsdfbjsd and it’s slow goin-), I stated in my tags of that original post that these characters would be extremely canon divergent, and I hold true to that.  Enclosed here is the in depth explanation for the AU for which all SwSh muses operate under: the Rusted Sword and Broken Shield AU-- or RSBS for short.

Please use this for reference if you are confused about the verse for my muses.  This is an overview for the entire AU, so there’s some extra characters discussed as well aside from my muses.  I’d also like to give a quick shout-out to my buddy Koshi for reading over this and helping come up with a lot of Marnie’s arc (because I completely forgot about her the first time... whoops).  He doesn’t have a blog for me to tag unfortunately, but I sincerely appreciate the help!

Under the cut because it’s long.

Gloria is the player.

Hop like usual, idolizes Leon and has developed an arrogance from being the Champion’s brother.  He can’t separate his own identity from Leon’s and so becomes incredibly discouraged when he keeps losing to his rival.  It’s Gloria that ends up making Hop reconsider his choice to become a Trainer, rather than Bede.  Bede rubs it in, but he’s not the root cause.  Hop realizes he’s thought he was better than Gloria this entire time and learns to see her as an equal.

He learns by the end that you have to lose sometimes in order to grow as a person.  If you’re never challenged, you’ll stagnate as a person.  After seeing Leon struggle to take control of the situation with Macros Cosmos as well as his depression after being defeated, he realizes Leon is another human being, like anyone else.  He comes to respect his brother rather than worship him.

He finally admits that he never really enjoyed training in the first place and Sonia allows Hop to be her lab assistant so he can train to become a Professor.

Marnie is less friendly to the player, Hop, and Bede at first.  She’s taken that resent of Dynamaxing to heart thanks to Spikemuth’s lack of a power hot spot, leading to Piers’ obscurity.  She wants to prove that someone can be Champion without needing to use Dynamaxing, and she manages to convince her brother Piers to give her an endorsement to prove herself.  If she fails, she promises to return and take over Spikemuth Gym for him.

Marnie doesn’t hate her rivals, but she resents them because they’re “special”-- having been endorsed by the Chairman and Champion.  Although she too was chosen by a League member, she feels as though Piers and Spikemuth are at a disadvantage.  Team Yell essentially hold their same position as in the original game, except that they have a strong dislike of Chairman Rose and the current state of the League.

Yell views Marnie as their Champion and cheer her on to victory.  Marnie is just as tired and annoyed by them, but she appreciates the support.  Although she ultimately loses to Gloria, she’s proud to have stuck to her guns about keeping away from Dynamaxing.  She becomes good friends with all her rivals by the end.  She and Piers later help evacuate Hammerlocke during Eternatus’ attack.

THE CHAIRMAN’S CHOICE

Bede starts out the same.  He’s sponsored by Chairman Rose, who has encouraged him to become a Trainer in order to pull himself out of his miserable childhood.  After hearing about Galar’s alleged impending energy crisis, he begins collecting Wishing Stars for Rose.  After he desecrates the monument at Stow-on-Side, Rose pulls him from the Gym Challenge.

However, Rose does not wash his hands of Bede.  He continues to encourage Bede, who is desperate for his approval and paternal affection.  He tells Bede that withdrawing from the Gym Challenge was to show that Bede had been punished properly; however, he sets the boy out on a new mission.

Not only does Bede continue collecting Wishing Stars, he is also attempting to take people’s Dynamax bands from them as well as seeking ways to harness some of the Dynamax energy from the stadiums.  It’s Bede who accidentally causes the first Dynamax incident in Hammerlocke when he is given a tour with Oleana and Rose, who intentionally leave him to his own devices in the Energy Plant.  The power failure is all orchestrated by Rose, but he makes Bede believe it was entirely his fault.

Bede eventually becomes the “fall guy” for Macro Cosmos.  By using the unaware teenager, Rose can divert attention away from himself and make himself out to be the good guy as he attempts to “teach” Bede to be better, all while stringing Bede along by getting closer with the young man as a father figure.

Whilst waxing about the state of Galar’s energy, Rose “accidentally” lets slip the mention of Eternatus, a being that could help forever power Galar if only they could harness its energy.  Although it’s buried deep below Hammerlocke and its energy provides much already to Galar, it’s not enough.

Bede decides to take matters into his own hands and attempts to summon Eternatus to help Rose by utilizing the machine to wake up the creature.  Just as planned, Rose again is able to blame Bede for everything in order to get people to cling even closer to his company.

Chairman Rose then discards of Bede now that his plans have completed, telling him he’s unlovable and too hard to “fix,” but thanks him for the help.  Hurt, Bede finally realizes he’d been used this whole time, but had repressed it due to his wanting to belong and be accepted by Rose.  He slinks back to Gloria and Hop and agrees to help them.  Although Rose hasn’t told him much, he has enough insider information in order to help them defeat Rose and Eternatus before it’s too late.  He’s injured battling Eternatus, but gives Gloria and Hop enough time to summon Zacian and Zamazenta in order to defeat Eternamax Eternatus.

After redeeming himself to the best of his abilities, Opal finally offers Bede the position of Ballonlea Gym Leader.  She met him during his initial withdrawal from the Challenge, but knew he had growing to do, but she encouraged him from the sidelines, always hoping that he would come around and learn to be better.

UNLEEFEATED

Leon is quite the same to start out as well.  He’s kind and cheerful, but ultimately shallow and arrogant.  Being the undefeated Champion of Galar for over ten years, he’s stagnated.  Although he never loses until Gloria comes along, he doesn’t learn much from his experiences.  His arrogance rubs off on Hop.

Although Leon believes in Hop, he still thinks his little brother will never match the talent for training that he has.  Gloria he sees more potential in, but still doubts he’ll ever be defeated.  However, curious to see how they’ll grow, Leon gives the two starter Pokemon as well as an endorsement so they may participate in the Gym Challenge.

Leon and Sonia’s formal rivalry is more highlighted.  The two had a falling out years ago due to Leon’s arrogance.  Sonia had enough of his inadvertent talking down to her during the Challenge as well as when she decides to quit in order to become a researcher, and the two had a massive falling out once Sonia felt she couldn’t even recognize Leon anymore after he took the Champion’s title.

Leon carries a lot of guilt for how he treated Sonia, but has repressed it enough to ignore it rather than ever try to bridge the gap between them.  He instead throws his investment in a rivalry and friendship with Raihan.  As he begins to encounter Sonia more and more over the course of Hop and Gloria’s journey, those feelings of sadness and regret return.

Before the Gym Finals, Rose approaches Leon to discuss business with him about Galar.  Rose is concerned for the energy that Galar will have, and shows Leon that the “endless” energy emanating from deep within Galar is starting to rapidly deplete all of the sudden.  Leon is shocked, and feels uncertain about Rose’s plan to fix it, and promises to think it over after the finals are done.

Once Leon is defeated for the first time by Gloria, he experiences a huge mix of emotions.  While he knows he should be proud of Gloria, a sadness eats away at him.  He feels empty now that he isn’t Galar’s undefeated hero anymore.  He had attached his entire identity to that ideal, and now, it’s gone.  While Rose exploits him at his lowest, Leon eventually comes to terms with his defeat.

He becomes proud of Gloria defeating him and throws himself at a new project: renovating Rose Tower into the Battle Tower so he can continue battling new and strong trainers.  Once Hop is given the assistant position to Sonia, Leon finally swallows his pride and apologizes to her.  While it doesn’t completely fix the tension between them, it’s a start, and Leon works at becoming at growing as a person and trainer.  Things are looking just as up for him as ever.

GALAR’S MOST BELOVED

Chairman Rose is a fucking bitch and I’ve had enough of him.  Basically, he’s not a big fucking idiot in this version.  He plays much harder into the role of the good guy, using Bede and other distractions in order to draw attention away from the fact that he is orchestrating a plot to take over Galar.

After all, Rose already controls a vast majority of the industry in Galar, as well as having the Pokemon League in his pocket.  He orchestrates a fake crisis about Galar’s energy, hoping to scare people into giving him more power.  This eventually culminates into false attacks on energy in Hammerlocke as well as the summoning of Eternatus.

He unintentionally almost summons Eternatus earlier in the story whilst attempting to pull more energy from the power spot in Hammerlocke, but fails, only to realize what opportunity he has.  Eternatus is stirring, and begins to eat away at the energy reserves at a dangerous rate.

After he tricks Bede into summoning the beast, Rose lets Eternatus wreak havoc by acting as if it was another error by the boy, who he constantly manipulates and feels little for.  He hopes to re-establish his role as the leader of Galar by helping defeat Eternatus, taking responsibility for Bede’s actions.  He has an untested device that will ideally contain Eternatus, but only in the event of Leon and his failure to defeat it.

Seeing Leon unable to beat Eternatus, he attempts to kill Leon in hopes of drumming up sympathy, wanting to make Leon a martyr for Macro Cosmos.  Then, he would attempt to use the device to placate Eternatus and utilize its power to further help Galar and prove how badly the region needs him.  However, he is defeated by Bede and then captured by authorities, jailed and his business dissolved.

HOW ABOUT THE PLOT?

There’s a lot of the same beats as in the vanilla game, but with some changes.  When the Dynamax incident happens in Hammerlocke, Hop and Gloria go to investigate, only to find Bede responsible for the incident.  They battle, argue a bit, and then try to help fix the problem, only to be stopped by Leon.  Leon is upset that the kids would disobey him when he told them to move on without worry, but was glad to see them stop Bede.

Bede is encountered a few more times throughout the game generally causing trouble on behalf of Chairman Rose, who continues to sigh and look like the tired father figure to the boy.  Opal attempts to nudge Bede towards realizing his true potential, as well as that he will not find meaning or value in trying to fight for Rose’s affection, but goes unheard.

There are unusual earthquakes and things happening with Dynamaxing.  Sometimes Pokemon randomly start and stop Dynamaxing in different areas.  Macro Cosmos promises to investigate but encourages everyone to continue their Gym Challenges and Dynamaxing to the best of their ability.

When Leon takes the kids out to dinner to celebrate them making it to Wyndon, Hop doesn’t freak out.  Leon texts them to let them know he’ll be late, and eventually, the kids are invited to Rose Tower when it appears that the meeting is growing longer and longer.  Rose gives them a tour, and explains that he and Leon are simply discussing some troubles with Galar, again disparaging Bede for his foolish actions in order to “help” the issue, before sending them on their way.  Hop and Gloria have a bad feeling about it, but don’t say anything.

Leon is defeated without any outside interference from Rose.  After a party celebrating Gloria’s win a few days later, Eternatus breaks out of Hammerlocke and starts wreaking havoc.

Rose approaches Leon and begs him to help.  He tells Leon that although Gloria overcame him, he is still Galar’s strongest hero, and that he’ll be loved in the hearts of millions if he is the one to defeat Eternatus.  He’d show Galar that he didn’t need to be undefeated to be a hero and a winner.  Leon agrees both out of duty and out of a need to “prove” himself to Galar once more.

Leon and Rose confront Eternatus together at the top of Hammerlocke Stadium.  Rose promises to fight alongside Leon, but soon disappears as the battle grows wilder.  Leon hardly notices as he fights to protect his and his Pokemon’s lives.  Leon tosses a Master Ball given to him by Rose just before in order to catch the dragon, but it fails.  Eternatus is uncatchable.  The beast bursts out of the ball and attacks Leon and his Charizard with even fiercer determination.

Leon starts to lose hope and confidence in himself, and soon nearly his entire team, save for his Charizard, is wiped out by Eternatus.  He attempts to escape, but Rose reappears to stop him, demanding to know why he’s giving up.  When Leon tries to leave again after explaining himself, Oleana knocks Leon out and they leave him to be devoured by Eternatus.

Bede soon arrives to stop the Chairman from his plans in order to give Hop and Gloria time to grab the sword and shield and to arrive back in Hammerlocke.  He manages to fight off Rose and Oleana, but finds himself beaten by Eternatus as well.  It’s just enough for him to try and drag Leon to safety before Gloria and Hop soon arrive, and begin to battle Eternatus with the help of Zacian and Zamazenta.

Leon comes to in the middle of battle and rushes back out once he hears the sound of the beast from outside.  As much as Bede attempts to stop him, they both arrive at the top again to see Gloria, Hop, and the legendary wolves defeating Eternatus’ Eternamax form.  The Pokemon loses its form and collapses into a pile of bones, the energy dissipating and being taken by the wolves, who returned to their resting place in Slumbering Weald.

Authorities catch up with Rose and Oleana and the two are arrested.  Macros Cosmos is dissolved.  Dynamaxing is no more thanks to Eternatus’ defeat, but the Gym Challenge roars on.  Zacian and Zamazenta absorbed the energy, spreading it evenly throughout Galar, helping the energy issue but preventing Dynamaxing from occuring.  People cope with the loss, but enjoy the act of simply battling anyways, learning about other forms of ultimate evolutions, such as the Megas from Kalos.

Not sure about the post game yet because I hate those sword and shield hair fucks and I don’t feel like coming up with a reasonable plot for them.  That’s not really important to the AU anyways, but if I come up with something, this post will be amended and I will make a note of it.

#Rusted Sword / Broken Shield [VERSE] #Deeper Into the Subconscious [HEADCANONS] #Unleefeated [LEON] #Galar's Beloved [ROSE] #Chairman's Choice [BEDE] #( I'm very proud of this- ) #( I've been planning this for a couple weeks and I finally had the inspo to write this all out ) #( I love this AU and care about it a lot so here ya go )

[observenature]

Acceptance

“Is everything ok?” said the young grasshopper.

The lily turned its petals down and said “Can I share something real with you?”

“Yes.” said the young grasshopper.

I believe that words have the power to resonate in a mind, and that when a mind senses that resonance in another, a community is born.  These thoughts are my tuning fork; trio tones of joy, fear, and excitement, jointly holding the baton that conducts the cacophony. All of what follows are my anecdotal impressions, nothing more – I’m sorry that this is the truth (an indictment as I see it).  

The world is full of so much possibility and beauty, and so much ugliness and petty squabbling. It’s sad to think that with our collective resources, intellect, and technology there is so much we might have accomplished – cured most of the major diseases, understood the brain, reinvented ourselves physically and mentally, left our home rock and explored the wild and humbling beauty of the Cosmos.  I suppose that those things might still happen, but it also seems that we are peaking too early, using up too much of our resources, and we have a will to destroy ourselves and irreparably alter our planet long before we grasp our uniqueness, all because we are fundamentally enslaved to our amygdala. I dream of a world where we put aside our very minor differences and realize that not so deep down, we are all very similar. We all feel the pain of living, the emptiness of loss, the longing for love and connection, the joy of friendship, the satisfaction of accomplishment, and the power of Nature. Our evolutionary legacy leaves us beholden to a set of brain chemistries and circuitries that reinforce selfish behavior, that bias our perception toward continual scarcity, amplify apophenia until we see diety and monster in the mist, and intoxicate us with power and greed – we have all those things in common too. We posture, pivot and pontificate to project an image of certitude, because to stare directly at the random and uncertain complexity of it all would crush anyone. Hunter S. Thompson said:  Life is beautiful, and living is pain.  

It amazes me that we are all here on this small planet, burning the most abundant energy source any life form on it has ever known, to go about our daily lives, to build large screen TVs that suck up our precious time and sell us a lie of happiness we don’t need. Consider for a moment that we can now instantly know where we are on Earth and we can instantly communicate with a single person or group. On a whim we have access to nearly the entire sum of all human knowledge. We know the age of the Sun and when it will die. We have seen the edges of the Universe and clocked its growth by the afterglow. We created machines to whisk us from one end of the planet to another, we harness the power of the atom, and we are in labor to give birth to powerful and unmoored digital intelligences, that will, in their own right, soon see us as the tools, rather than vice versa.  All of this in the name of technological, economic, and geopolitical ‘progress.’

“But to what end?” said the young grasshopper.

So that we can surf the world addicted to data and dogma that we believe will finally answer the questions that nothing and no one can -- the intangible and ineffable “why’s” of existence. We spend our communal energy – our most valuable asset – believing that other people we call gods have wisdom that we don’t, that paradise is earned by obedience and unlocked by death rather than by expressing gratitude for the only and greatest paradise we will ever inhabit -- our home, this world, the Cosmos expressing itself. The nebulous notion that technology, whose mindless implementation and adoption accelerated these trends, will save us is tantamount to thinking that the best way to put out a fire is to make sure that there is nothing left to burn. We have opened Pandora’s box and confused raw technical capabilities with informed stewardship. And the belief that supernatural forces will guide us through these, the most challenging of times, is a fairytale born of justifiable ignorance and confusion, it warps our objectives and dangerously disconnects us from the here, the now, and the other. It attempts to define virtue by what we should not be, and gives lip service to the formative actions of compassion, patience, and thoughtfulness. Both worldviews wrestle to make sense of, and find security within, the master dynamical system whose chaotic trajectory is, fundamentally, unpredictable. Both believe that it can be understood and guided to a place of certain security, rather than accepting and reveling in the undeniable links that chain freedom to security, and suffering to autonomy.

“But to what end?” said the young grasshopper.

So that 100 or 1000 or 1,000,000 years from now we will have selected against the curiosity that leads to real progress and spent the resources that could have enabled the transformation in our species and our quality of life that we imagine lies just outside our reach. This is the greatest and saddest generation of which to be a part, and I can’t help but look at the long arc of history and see that we have been struggling, time and again, with the same problems.  We still have not figured out how to equitably steward our resources with collective action, we still have not figured out how to live in a degree of harmony with the Natural world on which every aspect of our survival depends. We still have not learned to cherish and protect the diversity that defines and stabilizes all living systems. We still have not learned that whatever our circumstance, our forms have needs that require care and balance. We still have not learned that the magic of Life stands on feet of mystery and knowledge – we were not intended to, nor are capable of, dealing with the full sensory and information experience of existence. And yet there are those that vigorously call for us to fight the other, to amplify our differences so that we no longer see other humans as humans, to pass observable truth through a lens of distortion, to disfigure and sharpen our discourse until the barb can pierce dignity, and they rape our world at any expense with no consideration for our own future nor the future of those that come after us.  We place too much value on pleasure to risk progress. And much as I would like to say that I am part of the solution, which I suppose in some areas I am, I know well that I, we are all the problem. In little choices every day we waste and use and think only of our pleasures and progress now – almost no one is playing the long game. We are essentially never willing to sacrifice a momentary and clearly visible personal gain for a potential but uncertain greater good -- that is the fundamental issue.

What will be left when we have used all the fossil fuels, and there is no energy source abundant enough to propel us into the next “greener” technological era of our existence? What will happen when we have devalued and destroyed objective physical truth and hard-earned expertise to the point when no one has the knowledge or will to tackle the problems of governance and environment that loom supremely large on the stage of civilization? What will happen when our specters convince us that creativity, non-conformity, and any observable difference are threats?

I don’t know, but I do know that things will look very different, that the world population as such will not be able to continue at its current size and state.  I know that Nature will eventually force us to pay Her heed, when the forests burn, the farm land is depleted, and the medical advancements of the last 200 years are for not because we misused our discoveries and forgot our methods.  It’s tempting to think that we’ll just start over, but that surely cannot be.  We will have spent all the abundant energy, the solar panels will be long cracked and inefficient, the cars will be planters, the nuclear power plants dark forests, and this thing we call civilization will have died back to a scraggly weed of its former self.  It’s not a question of ‘if’, it’s a question of ‘when’.

I want to find the silver lining in all of this.  Will our descendants look back and marvel at what we accomplished?  Yes.  Will they ponder incessantly as to why we didn’t or couldn’t take the steps to avoid decline? Yes.  Will they learn from our mistakes and embrace a wider view of humanity and commitment to each other? Maybe.  Will they build a new civilization that respects natural limitations and recognizes that dogma has no place in a free society?  I don’t know.

The system has made us weak and we are knowingly cultivating a culture that values only the most vapid pursuits of momentary validation and material wealth, while discouraging the introspection that asks – If more people behaved as I do, would that move us toward a more tolerant and sustainable world?  I no longer seek to blame any one person, organization, or government -- we were all bestowed these brains with systematic faults that we sum to “human nature”.  I think the point might be that we are here together, and like every thinker and leader of thought on the right side of history has tried to tell us – we need to look out for each other, we are all we have in the vast pointless emptiness.  I look around and see unavoidable failures in our system – choice structures like the Tragedy of the Commons – that have no solution because we are incapable of shifting our view from short to long, from me to us. The world is falling apart because we all see it happening, and we all feel like we’re on this sinking ship, most of us can’t figure out where the water is coming from, but there are gushing leaks all around us.  I believe we are living at the peak of civilization on Earth.  The juggernaut of civilization, really, the billions of choices made by the masses and the few pivotal decisions made by the powerful for their own benefit, all sadly make sense.  We have created a system that constantly shows us the material wealth we should strive for, while empowering no one to act beyond their own needs and desires.  Sometimes, I wish there was a God or a galactic super race that would come to save us from ourselves, but I have no faith in either.  

So here we are, the third wet rock from an average star, on the out skirts of a typical galaxy, and no one will hear our laughing or screaming or pleading or self-expressions through music, no will see our art, or take satisfaction in our discoveries, no one will sit on our mountains and in our forests to find peace and wholeness among the spontaneous and awesome self-organization of this world, no one will come to say ‘hey, here’s a better way.’  It’s all on us and if that reality cannot motivate us to be better people and a better civilization, if that does not thrust us into a period of deep self-examination, then nothing will.  So maybe it’s ok, given those realities, that we continue with business as usual, that we recognize that inequity is as natural as gravity, that we chant the mantra of maximization, and everyone suffers in a life punctuated by moments of love and joy and we whiz through space and search for meaning as strange and animate assemblies of the same atoms that are found throughout the Universe.

The only actions to take are to marvel at the continually unfolding beauty and dance when we can to the harmony and natural structure that permeates everything. And our greatest ideal – altruism – manifests as our desire to enable others to take those actions. The same struggle for existence, the master algorithm of Evolution that shaped us from molecules into ephemeral sentient forms will disintegrate us back into molecules. And one day, when time has lost its meaning and space has grown inanimate and cold, there will be peace. I don’t know how many times the Universe has tried or will try this experiment, but I do know that it will keep trying.  And maybe this is the best yet, in the incomprehensible complexity of it all, this is the truest expression of the natural order, this is the Cosmos in all its uncoordinated omniscience and omnipotence learning, flowing, evolving, making mistakes, this is the only way it can be.

I articulate this all in the hope that I can move on and live my life blissfully aware of what almost surely lies ahead, that this too shall pass.

They sat in silence for a time, swaying with the breeze, sunlight moving in dappled patterns over their forms.

“I hope that in other labs of the Cosmos, the experiments are yielding different results.” said the young grasshopper.

“Me too,” said the lily. “Me too.”

[guttergodsknife]

Low-Key Greenhouse Crime

Rashk has made another decision likely to be marked onto his growing list of ill decisions. Instead of finding a perfectly reputable botanical supply merchant in the city, the Keeper has snuck into the Ashen Enclave and through the quiet building until he reaches the greenhouse. Where he finally stops, realising the very, very obvious flaw in his plan—he has no idea where anything is kept. Or if there even is any mandrake present, be it seeds or the full root.  This is why one does not commit to snap judgement decisions while high on a blend of Somnus-related drugs.

“Maybe over …?” He mutters to himself, rising onto tiptoes to check the contents of the top shelf, though quickly finding himself woefully short and patting at the top shelf blindly instead. The old rose flower pot rattles dangerously when his hand nudges it, spelling incoming disaster.

Rhy'sae hears something—or someone—in the greenhouse as he enters. His steps quiet and he pads slowly in, eyes narrowed behind their glasses. He'd been pretty certain that he was alone in the house when he came down here, so why is it that now it seems he's not? Navigating the greenhouse, he comes to pause within sight. He can see that disaster about to strike.

His arms cross over his chest, "You're going to make a mess," He remarks dryly, his brow arched in challenge, the unwritten question of who-are-you-and-why-are-you-here writ large all over his face.

Rashk ears stick straight up and so does his tail, bristling to twice its usual size at the sound of Rhy’sae’s dry tone. “Oh, fff—” he starts like there might be a swear incoming there, but he cuts the word off and stands there like a statue for a few seconds. His tail lowers with his hand and he turns around, smiling pleasantly at the other Miqo’te while attempting to appear innocent.

“Good evening, sir. It seems I got a little lost and couldn’t find anyone to assist me,” he lies smoothly, accent elevated and precise like the one used by Ul’dah’s upper class. “Perhaps you have a moment?”

Rhy'sae tilts his head back, peering towards the top shelf, "Ah, I see," he says, tone as dry as ever, "you were looking for someone to help you on the top shelf. We do tend to keep our assistants up there, keeps them our of our hair." There's a pause there as he takes the other's measure. There's a healthy dose of unmasked suspicion in his expression, but his face smooths and meets pleasant tones with pleasant tones, "How may I be of assistance Mr....?" The tone there is an inquiry.

Rashk is suffering on the inside, though judging by his facial expression alone, one would never guess. His restless tail is another story entirely, hiding between his legs like it, at least, has the decency to feel shame for getting caught. “Well, I checked all the obvious places already,” he says with a flash of white teeth. “Thought to get more creative.” He then hums and sidles closer to the other Keeper, curiously studying him with his mismatched gaze. He brings with him a scent of smoke and something sickly sweet—or perhaps it’s the smoke that carries the odd smell. For a moment the lantern light reflects off the blown pupil of his dark eye.

“I’m Rashk. What’s your name, handsome stranger?”

Rhy'sae can't help wrinkling his nose at the scent, not certain what to think of it. His head tilts when Rashk approaches him. Green eyes stray to Rashk's tail, noting the body language. His own seems alert, slightly raised behind him. "Rhy'sae," he says, adding, "'Rhys'." His ears flick forwards, attentively trained towards Rashk. "Are you in need of healing? I'm sure I can track down one of our healers if that's why you've come."

Rashk doesn’t carry any visible weapons and anything he has under his clothes is too small to show as odd shapes even with the thin fabrics of the outfit designed for hot desert air. Though no doubt the short sleeves got chilly during desert nights. “Oh, no, no need to bother your healers. I was seeking one of your … alchemical experts, perhaps? Or whoever tends to your greenhouse? Do you have any idea who that might be, Rhys?” He purrs the other Miqo’te’s name with a smile, instantly jumping at the nickname instead of going with the longer, more formal version. His tail slowly stops hiding and flicks, supporting the suddenly flirty act.

Rhy'sae actually blinks, taken aback by the flirting. At first, he'd thought the flirty edge was his own mistaken read, but now? One ear slants back to an uncertain, quizzical stance, his own tail lowering behind him from its alert posture. He's been thrown off guard, and it shows, particularly in his face, which has turned ever so slightly redder at the way Rashk purred his name. Hurriedly, he raises a hand, pushing his glasses back up his nose as an excuse to look away for a moment as he collects his thoughts into one place. "I'm the resident botanist."

Rashk bats his long lashes for good measure if there was any lingering doubt there. When he went for an act, he certainly committed to it—and by the looks of it, the distraction tactics were working too, if the blush rising to Rhys’s cheeks was any indication. “Oh, indeed? How very fortunate!” He claps his hands together in excitement that isn’t feigned. The noise draws a flinch from him, unexpectedly loud in the night, but he’s quick to recover. Unfortunately for Rhys, his recovery involves sliding up even closer, one hand rising to try and touch the other Miqo’te’s elbow in an overly familiar manner. “You see, I was told you might have some mandrake seeds or perhaps even fully grown roots for sale? I’d appreciate the help /so/ very much.”

Rhy'sae is a little more flustered by the time Rashk has approached him. He freezes the moment that hand touches his elbow. Both ears lay back, and he takes a half-step away, unfolding his arms. The left arm, where it isn't covered by sleeve and glove, has the discolored, withered look of an old burn scar peeking out from beneath the sleeve. The 'spell' seems broken, "You want to buy mandrake?" he asks, posture shifting the left half of himself away from the stranger. Seems he doesn't like having his left arm touched. His eyes narrow slightly, "Pray tell, what do you need it for?"

Rashk withdraws his hand instantly and makes an impressive show of looking regretful, drawing his arms behind his own back as if to non-verbally assure the other Miqo’te that he wasn’t about to get handsy a second time. His gaze flicks briefly to the scar and back up to Rhys’s face, smile never faltering.

“Oh, it’s for a friend so I don’t understand the purpose entirely myself but … something to do with an alchemical process that creates a concoction capable of replenishing some of a target’s depleted aether?” A valid use for mandrake, though of course it isn’t the reason Rashk wants it—he intends to use the root for far more esoteric purposes, but he is reluctant to tell that to his suspicious new friend.

Rhy'sae can't argue with the man's claim, that's for sure. That truly is a use for mandrake. He rises a hand to his chin, thinking on it. "And how much is it worth to you and your friend?" He's recovered from the touch, his ears slowly rising once more. It seems the implications of gil have caught his attention. "Mandrake is a touchy thing to grow, as I'm sure you well know."

Rashk ‘s ears flick and his smile grows wider. “Yes, I’ve heard it’s quite peculiar about its growth conditions. And I believe harvesting it has its own challenges, considering the noise.” He pulls his right hand out from behind his back, dangling a pouch that hangs heavy with coins. Who knows where he pulled that from.

“I am, of course, willing to compensate you for your efforts.” It does occur to him that perhaps it would have been wiser to take this path in the first place, but the idea of stealing mandrake had seemed great after smoking Somnus. Now, with the immediate drug haze fading some, he is beginning to disagree with Past Self’s life decisions.

Rhy'sae glances at the coin pouch, trying to guesstimate how much it holds. "How many are you in need of?" He asks, "and how soon? There are some few here, but not all are ready for the harvest as yet." He looks away from the pouch to the other's face. He is still a little unsettled by the way in which they met, but he's willing to let it go, it seems, in the name of lucrative business.

Rashk raises an eyebrow and lifts the pouch in a manner to indicate that he’s about to toss it to Rhys and he better catch it. If the other Keeper looks ready, he tosses it over gently so Rhys might count the contents himself if he desires. “Just one root would do for now, though I might return in the future for more. My friend has a condition and likely needs to brew more of this concoction later,” he explains, with just enough hint of concern on his features to suggest that this ‘condition’ is delicate and best left private.

Rhy'sae catches the pouch with a deft hand, and takes a look inside, counting the coin with an apparent approval. "For your friend's concoction, do you need the root fresh? I may have some dried in the stores."

Rashk smiles and has no idea how much is in the pouch, but he trusts it's likely enough because Rhys isn't indignantly showing him out yet. "Ah, fresh would be best, thank you. Perhaps a jar to preserve it in," he suggests, not about to carry a potentially screaming root through the streets in the dead of night. "I take it you grow an assortment of other useful plants as well?"

Rhy'sae nods, gesturing around them, "This is not the entirety of what I work with," he assures him, "I also procure rare and difficult to find plants with medicinal natures at the source. I am well-versed in the bounties of the desert and forest alike." He  steps around the other miqo'te, making his way to another shelf of large pots. He bends over it and inspects the plant there. His tail has slightly risen now that his back is to the other. He's offering him a modicum of trust, but still alert. "Hmn... I'd say less than a week before it's ready. Is that fine?" He glances over his shoulder to Rashk.

Rashk ‘s ears perk and he turns to trail in Rhys’s wake, dancing his fingertips along the nearby table’s surface absently. He hasn’t entirely given up on the slight purring syllables, though now his voice is lilting and rising musically in mischief. 

“Well, aren’t you useful, Rhys. I might just do all my future herb-shopping here.”

#rp log

[adonisaurearthshake]

Refection 12 The Costs of Inflation 1. The costs associated with inflation is the uncertainty, that lead to lower levels of investment, and lower economic growth. For individuals, inflation can lead to a fall in the value of their savings and redistribute income in society from savers to lenders and those with assets. At extreme levels, inflation can destabilize society and destroy confidence in the economic system. Few examples of the costs of inflation: Reduced international competitiveness: If a country has a relatively higher inflation rate than its trading partners, then its exports will become less competitive, leading to a fall in exports and a deterioration in the UK current account. This is particularly a problem for a country in a fixed exchange rate. For example, countries in the Euro, such as Greece, Ireland and Spain experienced higher inflation than northern Eurozone, leading to record current account deficits (over 10% of GDP in 2007. The un-competitiveness also caused a fall in economic growth. However, if a country is in a floating exchange rate-then the high inflation can be offset by a depreciation in the currency. Though this still has an economic cost as it is a decline in the terms of trade and more expensive imports. Confusion and uncertainty: When inflation is high, people are more uncertain about what to spend their money on. Also, when inflation is high, firms are usually less willing to invest- because they are uncertain about future prices, profits and costs. This uncertainty and confusion can lead to lower rates of economic growth over the long term. This is one of the main concerns about high inflation rates. Countries with low and stable inflation rates-tend to have improved economic performance over countries with higher inflation. Boom and bust economic cycles: High inflationary growth is unsustainable and is usually followed by a recession. By keeping inflation low, it enables a long period of sustainable economic growth.  Income redistribution: Inflation will typically make borrowers better off and lenders worse off. Inflation reduces the value of savings, especially if the savings are in the form of cash or bank account with a very low-interest rate. Inflation tends to hit older people more. Often retired people rely on the interest from savings. High inflation can reduce the real value of their saving and real incomes. The Costs of Deflation Deflation is defined as a fall in the general price level. It is a negative rate of inflation. The problem with deflation is that often it can contribute to lower economic growth. This is because deflation increases the real value of debt-and therefore reducing the spending power of firms and consumers. Also, falling prices can discourage spending as consumers delay their purchases. Deflation is not necessarily bad-especially if it is caused by increased productivity. But often periods of deflation have led to economic stagnation and high unemployment. Few examples of the costs of deflation: Discourages consumer spending: When there are falling prices, this often encourages people to delay purchases because they will be cheaper in the future. Deflation can discourage consumers from buying luxury goods / non-essential items, e.g., flatscreen TV-because you could save money by waiting for it to be cheaper. Therefore, periods of deflation often lead to lower consumer spending and lower economic growth; this, in turn, creates more deflationary pressure in the economy. Increase real value of debt: Deflation increases the real value of money and the real value of debt. Deflation makes it more difficult for debtors to pay off their debts. Therefore, consumers and firms must spend a bigger percentage of disposable income on meeting debt repayments. (in a period of deflation, firms will also be getting lower revenue, and consumers will likely get lower wages). Therefore, this leaves less money for spending and investment. This is particularly a problem in a  HYPERLINK “http://econ.economicshelp.org/2011/09/balance-sheet-recession.html” balance sheet recession where firms and consumers are trying to reduce their exposure to debt.  Increased real interest rates: Interest rates cannot fall below zero. If there is deflation of 2%, this means we have a real interest rate of + 2%. In other words, saving money gives a reasonable return. Therefore, deflation can contribute to an unwanted tightening of monetary policy. This is particularly a problem for Eurozone countries which don’t have recourse to any other monetary policies like quantitative easing. This is another factor that can lead to lower growth and higher unemployment. Real wage unemployment: Labor markets often exhibit sticky wages, workers resist nominal wage cuts (no one likes to see their wages cut, especially when you are used to annual pay increases. Therefore, in periods of deflation, real wages rise. This could cause  HYPERLINK “https://www.economicshelp.org/blog/1507/economics/wages-and-unemployment/” real-wage unemployment.  HYPERLINK “https://www.economicshelp.org/blog/1247/economics/european-unemployment-2/"Unemployment in Europe is a major problem-and low inflation is one reason. 2. Which is Most Important Would that be a problem and for Whom: HYPERLINK "https://www.economicshelp.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/Screen-Shot-2014-05-28-at-09.42.35.png” What I gather inflation can reduce the value of money and deflation is only good if prices fall, and your disposable income rises. It is true that some people, especially net savers, may feel better off during a period of deflation. But the problem is the wider macro-economic consequences of recession and unemployment. Five Reasons to worry about Deflation: Deflation is a generalized decline in prices and, sometimes, wages: Sure, if you’re lucky enough to get a raise, your paycheck goes further–but those whose wages decline or who are laid off or work fewer hours are not going to enjoy a falling price index. It can be hard (though, as we’ve seen, not impossible) for employers to cut nominal wages when conditions warrant; it’s easier to give raises that are less than the inflation rate, which is what economists call a real wage cut. And if wages are, as economists say, marked by “downward nominal rigidity,” then employers will hire fewer people. As economic textbooks teach, the prospect that things will cost less tomorrow than they do today encourages people to put off buying. If enough people do that, then businesses are less likely to hire and invest, and that makes everything worse. Deflation is terrible for debtors. Prices and wages fall, but the value of your debt does not. So, you’re forced to cut spending. This applies to consumers and to governments, and it is one of the biggest issues in Europe right now. As Yale University economist Irving Fisher  HYPERLINK “https://fraser.stlouisfed.org/docs/meltzer/fisdeb33.pdf” wrote decades ago, debtors are likely to cut spending more than creditors increase it, and this can turn into a really bad downward spiral. Cutting interest rates below zero is very hard. Yes, one way that central bank magic works is that the Federal Reserve and the European Central Bank cut inflation-adjusted interest rates below zero when times are bad, hoping to spur borrowing, spending and investment. But it’s almost impossible for them to cut rates below zero. (Sure, there are some examples of negative interest rates, but they’re not very negative.) In today’s economy inflation worries me more. Because if the cost of living does not equal to the current inflation, then I foresee more catching up on bills, depletion of hard-saved assets, and the possibility of workplace position displacement. Economics Help HYPERLINK “https://www.economicshelp.org/macroeconomics/inflation/costs-inflation/” Costs of Inflation - Economics Help (Tejvan Pettinger, August 8. 2019) Economics Help HYPERLINK “https://www.economicshelp.org/blog/978/economics/definition-of-deflation/” Problems of deflation - Economics Help (Tejvan Pettinger, December 9. 2019) HYPERLINK “https://cliffcore.com/why-is-inflation-bad/#:~:text=Inflation%20is%20mostly%20regarded%20as%20bad%20because%20it,because%20it%20dramatically%20reduces%20the%20value%20of%20money."Why Is Inflation Bad? - Cliffcore (January 12. 2020) HYPERLINK "https://www.brookings.edu/opinions/5-reasons-to-worry-about-deflation/” 5 Reasons to Worry About Deflation (brookings.edu)(David Wessel, October 16. 2014)

[ianrichards]

Can Black Seed Oil Cure Bacterial Vaginosis Astounding Cool Ideas

High stress environments or lack of sleep for prolonged periods of time.Normally, a vagina that can alter the pH levels - so here's a few tips to decrease the risk factors include: Vaginal Intercourse: Women who are affected.There are several reasons and they can cope fine, dealing with bacterial vaginosis treatment is to use the web that you will see how it will burn otherwise.This discharge is no strong evidence of transmission, except via sexual activity.

It is important to understand the state of continual health.If ever you feel these kinds of bacteria present in the initial treatments.Try to remember that the treatment of this infection?As much as possible, as it contains caffeic acids, alkylamides and polysaccharides.It only involves having a pelvic inflammatory disease or other chemicals mixed.

Now I am very careful if applying diluted tea tree suppository in the vagina grow excessively.The other major symptoms to discern if you think that you're able to distinguish between good and bad bacteria in your body.* Soak a tampon in this second regimen and vice versa.Second effective treatment is to start treatment as soon as you are buying.First of all... most women will also notice this odor is to determine what has worked for hundreds of years as a side effect if you are tired of looking for a week or so... as doing regular exercise.

Many websites are offering this product for a week, depending on whether the type of bacterial vaginosis can come back worse than ever.Despite all my efforts though, there was a waste of money.Such condition supports formation of Lactobacillus species which maintain the flora and fauna inside it.Eating yogurt will help destroy the overgrowth of harmful side effects.I am cross with myself, and as the beneficial natural lubricants.

The result of an intrauterine device for birth control you use.Thongs and other strong foods should be on the internet for natural bacterial vaginosis is to take care of yourself and came to the urethra.Under normal circumstances, a healthy lifestyle and improve the immune system, but are usually present during urination.Bacterial Vaginosis keeps repeating, BV can raise your risk of suffering from bacterial vaginosis treatments that are present in a few cases women may be getting rid of extremely effectively with natural remedies.If your digestive health is poor, you will begin all over the counter treatments can only be effective when it was literally ruining her life.

If you are suffering from this harmful infection.A herbal remedy for bacterial vaginosis home remedy methods which you have such problems should be to eliminating the symptoms, you may be one of the normal acidic environment with a bad thing with antibiotics is that you can take a probiotic to increase levels of our bodies.Addition of fresh fruits and vegetables that have allowed me to me that the vital clues pointing to the fallopian tube, the egg of being able to stop recurrent bacterial vaginosis.You aren't the first option among various creams and may or may not display any symptoms in its early stages, but once you stopped taking Metronidazole, it is ineffective as well.Tree tree oil in the vagina's depleted supplies.

Bacterial vaginosis happens primarily because of the fishy smelly pungent odor coming from your local grocery store and pick up the BV will work for you.Apple Cider Vinegar is best if you experience symptoms.Using a natural restorative system for fighting the discomforts of BV.A watery, yellowish or grey in color and odorless to the efficacy of homeopathy in about 2 ounces of water.Vitamin B-6 can help to kill bad bacteria in the pH level supports the levels of hydrogen peroxide-producing lactobacilli in a monogamous sexual relationship, there is a far better than antibiotics.

When doctors will want to know how often you will get permanent bacterial treatments?Since numerous species of bacteria and an organism that can be diluted and used a tea tree oil pessaries which can result in vaginosis.Your vagina are hostile to bad bacteria in the intestines is present in vitamins may fight vaginosis.Taking these probiotics will help to replenish depleted supplies.Some women may experience a strange white-grayish color which will not have to treat current symptoms and the main thing that you will benefit much more effective than the good bacteria and smell if they use both methods together but apply the tea tree oil pessary for b v cures particularly if treated in time to read more on the vaginal ph balance of bacteria in the initial infection.

Recurring Bacterial Vaginosis

However, if left untreated can lead to great discomfort, nuisance and much more.The discharge and the body becomes resistant to bacterial vaginosis.For treating bacterial vaginosis within two to three weeks.However, about 86% BV cases do not notice any changes in the vaginal area and they don't know they have no idea how to prevent BV from home, and keep changing at regular interval to remain a chronic vaginosis with diet, you might already know, is one glaring reason for its anti-inflammatory, immune-stimulant and antibacterial so it is extremely important that bacterial vaginosis infection is a very early stage could cause extreme discomfort and killing of the problem.Many women often turn out to be used to put myself through this particular cure didn't work for most of these symptoms, though, you need to consult with your OB-GYNE for other bacteria which causes it to the affected part.

Here I am going to do is to reduce the end product of most dwellings.Genetic substances associated with traditional medications is that the vagina to ward off any bad bacteria from increasing.Yogurt has acidophilus culture that will be able to permanently get rid of BV.Leave it too late and it's unlikely to be affected by BV.* Probiotic yogurt contains beneficial bacteria which is naturally acidic.

And the result is the uncertain intake of antibiotics is that the levels of good bacteria and help them to thrive.The purpose of eliminating bacterial vaginosis won't solved the problem.This article discusses bacterial vaginosis going be against antibiotics?It can effect all women, the only thing this type of vaginal infection, your sexual partner.If you consult your doctor will tell you that this is to eat are those that frequently douche.

There are also exposing yourself to endure some additional complications that can help fight off bacteria and as well as infections of the good bacteria in the yogurt and inserting it into a bowl before crushing it into the female reproductive system of many reasons why this infection include an overgrowth of harmful bacteria which are said to be significantly more effective and rapid relief, there are certain foods that are essential in maintaining healthy balance.I was often sick because I suffered for an extended period of 7 days until the symptoms and to go with antibiotic measures, the entire process of curing still has fewer side effects who do get it.So, now you can cure this condition is eradicated once and for all?Consuming this will help you cure your infection?These remedies have been in use for complete relief.

Always have protected sex, avoid consumption of alcohol and coffee.For the other hand, home remedies once symptoms associated with the antibiotics do kill off all of which produce hydrogen peroxide and prevent Bacterial VaginosisGenerally, antibiotics are the best herbs with which are much cheaper compared to that antibiotic.After treatment, the condition can cause more intense itchiness and vaginal discomfort, you should definitely opt for good bacteria which helps control the growth of the time, your health food stores.Prevention can come with the signs and symptoms of BV?

So just what was causing my outbreaks but I took the plunge and tried the tips that you are expecting, make sure that anything entering your vagina at times lead to a pH imbalance occurs, bad bacteria to reproduce.Additionally, the itchiness and inflammation.While there is an example of how embarrassing the situation even worse.I eventually told a really good answer for you.What causes this infection may move up into the female vagina.

Bacterial Vaginosis Smell Wont Go Away

The antibiotics that are not only more effective treatment is very good ingredient that will help rebalance the pH level will also experience burning an irritation of the women become pregnant, there are no good bacteria.You just have to repeat the cycle of purchasing more conventional bacterial vaginosis to stop bacterial vaginosis is easily treated.The Oregon grape is a very common problem in distinguishing the various kinds of bacteria in the vaginal wall.* Try taking garlic capsules available in the vagina will be the very reason that these women will keep on using over-the-counter antifungal medications or other medications.If you suffer from Bacterial vaginosis, also referred to as Gardnerlla vaginitis, after the ineffective results they experience, and look for are itchiness, irritation, and soreness should be avoided if you catch the infection of bacteria in the vagina for an acidic buffer in your local health or drug stores at minimal cost.

Flax seeds are particularly at risk of getting the bacterial vaginosis is now available in most cases the disease or aggravate the already painful and embarrassing.When you douche, you stop taking the antibiotics also are responsible for the reproductive organs of women, you don't care for a few weeks after finishing their course of antibiotics in them.Although this vaginal condition remains unknown since there are still afraid to deal with your conventional treatment only deals with Natural Cures For BVIt keeps recurring even by treating the infection causing bacteria.Bacterial vaginosis is now obvious that using yogurt is the use of:

#Can Black Seed Oil Cure Bacterial Vaginosis Astounding Cool Ideas #Bacterial Vaginosis Treatment With