#- saying it was good for the cat to get calibrated or whatever

[ashleywool]

why are menstrual cycles

I began birth control meds a few years ago when my periods went from "tolerable nuisance" to "incapacitating sensory nightmare." I stopped taking BC as of June 8 so they wouldn't interfere with the cortisol testing.

Mind you: I'd had some intermittent spotting when I was on BC, but it was so brief and occasional that I was getting used to not even needing to keep maxipads around anymore, just an "emergency" bundle of pantyliners. I never bled enough to justify even attempting to use a tampon.

Yesterday, for the first time since 2021, I got my FULLLLLL period.

I was JUST beginning to come to terms with having to stay off BC at least through September to fully determine if my current health problems are a result of BC or if Otis (the cyst/tumor/both on my pituitary gland) is the real culprit. I thought, meh, it's annoying to have to wait, but I don't need this medication THAT badly anyway, it'll be a good way to see how my reproductive system calibrates itself--

Y'ALL. I forgot how AWFUL this is.

I forgot what it's like to be able to smell EVERYTHING--and in New York, there's even more of everything. Like, I can wash the dishes in the dark and know when the pot isn't entirely clean because I can smell a trace amount of olive oil. I can be awakened from sleep because I can SMELL the exact moment one of the cats uses the litterbox (the pine litter absorbs the smell almost instantly, which is amazing, but in the 0.2 seconds between the crap leaving their butt and the litter absorbing the smell, I SMELL IT).

I forgot what it's like to feel EVERY SINGLE ATOM that touches my skin and overthink every article of clothing in my closet before I get dressed for the day. Like, I can shave my legs and then FEEL my hair growing back. I put on a face mask in the doctor's office and my lip eczema is lurking right there with a taser like, "hahahaha, you say you care about public safety, but do you really? How much? *taser zap* HOW ABOUT NOW?"

I forgot the LEG CRAMPS--like, why? Yeah, the uterine liner is shedding, what does that even have to do with my legs? My back, fine. But leave my legs alone.

I forgot, most of all, what it's like to just cry at the smallest things. Like, not JUST the things that make sense to be sad/stressed/angry about, but like, I'll open a box of Scotch-Brite pads and then cry because they're all so perfectly positioned in that bag and I'm about to take one out and separate it from its brothers and sisters and they'll never see it again and now I'm so sad I want to jump off a bridge but I can't because my cats will miss me and I could never do that to my parents and--

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP DOING THIS EVERY MONTH until we figure out whether or not the meds that prevented me from having to do this every month are causing MORE harm?

And if they are, then I'll have to...I don't know, stop taking them? Try something different? And if they're not, then I need to do whatever else we need to do in order to prove that the only reasonable next step is LITERAL BRAIN SURGERY LIKE--?!

Ok. I'm gonna go cry into my iced coffee about Scotch-Brite pads. And maybe put on real clothes. Maybe.

[am-i-sans]

dnd adventures 38

infero killed mpreg mattpat ANYWAY

dess is back in eeby deeby and cam comes out with an egg! dans picks cam off the ground and fills them in. time to let barbie know we fucked up lol. sorry barbie he got away. "well thats not ideal." barbie asks kris if they can find him and they nod. time to say goodbye :( when dans fistbumps kris theres a fart noise xD 'good luck with the kid.' 'good luck storming the castle!' kris summons a dragon suzy is so fucking mad lol and off they go.

welp now what do they do. dans asks cam if they wanna face that ice dragon. time for a long rest its eepy time for frog lol. dans paid for the inn its expensive thanks cam lol. suzy is chewing on bones. frog is practicing music. dans is reorganizing his spells and he took both fire and frost staffs get fucked. inferno is fixing his hair. cam is calibrating a portable pair of merchant scales? undyne is eating a meatball sub lol. tori is reading.

dans has cam fix his beard feathers cause they got messed during the fight. frog just barges into the bathroom and asks inferno what hes doing. they need the bathroom stop doing your hair. he tells them to go outside nooooo. frog starts humming then disappears. inferno just shrugs and goes back to his hair.

vani starts war dancing at inferno. he starts walking from tori to inferno over and over. dans closes his eyes and suddenly shouts 'where is frog!' tori says shes gonna heat metal again. inferno sighs and runs out to find frog. tori follows lol. dans stays still since cam is working but vani follows.

inferno goes to the river and frog is swimming. he walks over and asks how they even got here. they teleported than walked! they disappear and appear behind him lol. he wants to teleport oh no. he sighs and says they need to go back before he gets killed. 'but im swimming?' inferno is like whatever so they jump back in with vani.

tori is trying to make frog come back cause their tired. they just wanna swim cmon. back at the inn cam finished dans beard so he takes the scarf and cleans it up. cam is leaning against them playing with the scales. he gives it back and says they look right and proper. dans says at some point their gonna have to face that dragon. suzy says they killed a dragon its easy lol. dans suggests finding smaller dragons to kill first. undyne says they can totally do it. dans tells cam he and undyne can rez people. cam is so upset were dead set on this.

dans pats cam on the back and says they can do it, he believes in them! dans says its ok to be afraid. suzy says she can smell cams fear lol. undyne says she can smell it too lol. she says cam has the strength to overcome it. cam blushes and says they appreciate the belief, but we werent there. undyne says cam has seen them beat the shit outta steve lol. cam frowns and says they dont wanna see that happen to the rest of us. undyne and dans agree that if they die cam is allowed to kick their asses. gonna avenge cams family! believe in undyne!

meanwhile back at the river! frog finally gets out and makes grabby hands at tori lol. sopping wet baby. tori scoops them up. vani gets out and dog shakes the water on inferno lol. the cat hides behind inferno lol. tori unties her apron to dry them and head to the inn. she gets lost oh no. inferno just leaves and tori follows him lol. they make it back nice. inferno asks where susie got the sub he wants one. cam used the bathroom and used all the fancy soaps earlier lol.

inferno grabs the sub and tries to get in the bathroom but dans is inside. dans is singing in there. inferno groans and leaves. its the punch baby song from adventure time. then the bacon pancakes song. inferno is invading other peoples bathrooms. tori meditates. dans finishes and comes out and undyne goes in. we can hear her armor clang on the floor lol. frog and dans play cards and explain to susie how to play uno. cam is braiding frogs hair with feathers. frog wins good job! cam helped them cheat lol.

undyne comes out and cam asks if anyones seen inferno. 'dont worry i didnt shower in the armor.' susie goes into the bathroom and eats the soap and hates it lol. dont eat that lol. business as usual xD. cam and dans go to find inferno lol. vani sniffs him out lol. inferno tells the guy hes invading to not rat him out lol. cam yells they know inferno is in there. inferno is trying to hide lol. the bar rail crashes lol. dans persuades the guy to let us in. trying to make him open and cam threatens to get undyne. dans counters and says if he comes we can spend some time robbing the place. inferno steals the soap nice.

cam tries to steal one of infernos soaps and he goes no these are mine. he groans and leaves one, the shitty one lol. as we walk we find a cart full of soaps and stuff! dans walks over with the bag of holding and he and cam are shoveling it in. so is inferno. then inferno grabs the cart and shoves it into the bag lol. then sneak back to the room. a hotel woman sees the cart is gone and is confused. undyne punches inferno for leaving lol.

long rest! but we got into a LONG argument about sitting on toilet lids. like oh my god.

pouring rain out. dans got breakfast for everyone. he lies about the coffee. he gives cam some perfume he stole. he also gives frog a fancy soap that looks like a seashell. cam has a fancy teapot cool. frog wants to learn how to make tea! dans says you have to stick your pinky out while drinking tea. oh no cam is info dumping lol. dans finished setting up plates for everyone. dans heads back for a bath again! you can hear megalovania lol. then bonetrousle. then spear of justice. when did he get a band wtf.

time to leave! dans cam and inferno just keep stealing shit. dans gives undyne a soap that looks like a fish. as we leave we find another cart fuck yeah! they power walk to the cart and get to work. tori is like wait no. quick get the cart in! suzy is confused lol. undyne grabs the cart noooo!!! cam scrambles up her back sksksk. dans says hes getting his moneys worth. undyne puts inferno in the cart and kicks it into a wall lol. cam climbs down and helps dans grab the stuff. undyne calls them babies. time to go with our stash!

dans pulls out his map and asks cam where they live and mark it down. several days on soupnik probably. heading out whoo! as we leave we see someone tell the hotel guys all the soap is gone lol. still raining on soupnik. inferno goes eeby deeby. its a full blown storm. undyne avoids getting hit by lightning! cam tries to get soupnik land. failed frick. tori summons flame blade. undyne wants to fly above the storm and cam says thats a bad idea cause no air.

undyne fucking raises her pike oh god no. she thinks she can take it. we keep arguing with her. tori calls her a fucking idiot sksksk. cam is curled up and holding their head oh no. undyne sighs and agrees to land. undyne gets stuck good job and drops her pike. cam laughs. we all take half damage fuckers. tori heals the rest of us but undyne. dans rubs his lighting scars they hurt.

frog grabs everyone into a huddle but tori and undyne and uses tiny hut protecting us and its comfy and dry. dans tosses out tori's and undynes tents for them. time to dry! cam calls undyne a dick. dans shows his lightning scar is pulsating and says 'gee thanks.' the hut looks like a missing texture lol. dans gives susie some jerky then asks tori when the storm is gonna end. still seems stormy oof. cam makes tea. dans is gonna bring tori and undyne tea to keep them warm. using vani for warmth lol.

while the tinies play uno off in the distance theres a bunch of tricerotops pog. tori also sees them pog. undyne gets a weird feeling of being watched. after a few hours the storm passes. dans collects the tents. frog goes to pet the dinos. tori watches frog lol. undyne stretches.

some giant cyclops throws a rock at the dinos! tori gets a free hit in! thats a lotta damage! roll initiative! for next time ;)

[pasta5284]

'idk why my roommates tried to tell me a fishtank was a bad idea. it's not like i killed over 10 fish/aquatic animals, largely due to repeatedly putting them in unacclimated water that i knew was unhealthy for them because i couldn't put aside my own selfish desire for an animal life to control longer than two seconds to just wait for the tank to be livable! and who cares if it was against the lease, that i share with someone else and did not ask before getting the tank, and also it will be my roommates' responsibility to hide the tank most of the time whenever someone comes for an inspection. and the lease ends very soon anyway- and we all know packing and moving a 20 gal fishtank while also hiding it from the apartment workers is easy (so long as my friends help, but luckily i volunteered them for it without asking), and not at all stressful for the animals. i'm a great friend and pet owner! that's also why i wanted to get a kitten when i knew i would be moving in a month or two, because that definitely wouldn't be stressful for it. see i've pet a stray cat before and dropped a kitten on its head (which is actually good for their development just fyi not dangerous at all) so i know how to properly care for them, especially a baby in a new environment that even i'm unfamiliar with! and let's not forget my dog who i neglected to the point of gaining like 20 lbs in just a couple of months due to lack of walks, and who would piss all over the apartment floors almost every day (also my friends' responsibility to clean up lol gross) also due to lack of walks, aaaand was visibly depressed and anxious due to her lack of exercise and stimulation! did i mention i want a snake, even though i will loudly complain any time my roommate feeds his because i think the frozen mice are disgusting. oh and i think now would also be a great time to get a puppy! i'm a great person who truly cares about animals, unlike my roommates who only care about things like """water quality""" and """stress""" and """considering the animals' wellbeing""" 🙄 '

[clumsyclifford]

you read my mind (better to leave it unsaid)

(x)

here you go @cringeycal​ i hate you <3

read it here on ao3

-

Calum’s not tired enough for this time difference.

Sixteen hours is too many. One day is not enough time to adjust to a whole new circadian rhythm. Their 7pm concert is 11am to Calum, and by the time it’s over it’s smack-bang in the middle of the day in Calum’s brain, and the fact that it’s dark outside is really, really fucking him up.

“This is really, really fucking me up,” he mutters, pulling the curtains of his and Michael’s hotel room shut with a swish. 

“What is?” Michael’s voice echoes from the bathroom, where he’s brushing his teeth. It’s a strange choice, since Michael also brushed his teeth before the show and they haven’t eaten anything since then, but whatever. 

“The fact that it’s dark outside and I feel like it’s the middle of the afternoon,” Calum says. He pulls his cap off his head and throws it aside, ruffling up the matted hair underneath. It’s nice and air-conditioned in the room, and the sweat sticking Calum’s shirt to his chest from the show is starting to dry. It strikes Calum that he doesn’t need to be wearing his gross sweaty t-shirt anymore, so he pulls that off, too, and throws it in the general direction of the hat.

Michael makes a kind of humming noise. Calum can hear the sounds of a toothbrush, and takes no offence at Michael’s non-answer. He kicks off his jeans and flops back onto the bed, revelling in the cool air on his sticky skin for a minute before sliding off to put on some clothes.

Michael traipses out of the bathroom. He’s still in full show attire, and he’s wearing the camouflage baseball cap from before, a pastel galaxy of lavender hair sticking out underneath it. Calum likes this colour on Michael. A lot of the time Michael makes his bizarre hair colour look good, but this time, the hair colour looks good on its own, which is a refreshing change of pace. 

“You look tired,” Michael says.

Calum frowns. “I’m not. And no I don���t.”

“Fine, you look cosy.”

“That’s not the same thing at all.” The sweatpants and hoodie Calum have donned are cosy, but in his mind it’s still that lazy break between lunch and dinner where the only way to kill time is to play video games. He blinks owlishly at Michael. “You look…colourful.”

Michael snorts a laugh. The only colourful part of him is his hair; his attire is all-black, as usual, but Calum is pretty focused on the hair. Maybe the jet lag is getting to him more than he knows, because all Calum can think is that Michael looks yummy, deliciously kissable, and he wants to tangle his fingers in the lilac mess that is his hair and make it worse. 

“You look…like you’re plotting something evil,” Michael returns, strolling towards Calum. He grins. “Stop staring at me! What are you planning?”

“I may be delirious,” Calum solemnly informs him. “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Michael says without checking. He steps even closer. “Stop staring, you weirdo.”

“Make me.”

“No offence, but you look like you might snap and go serial killer,” Michael says. “I’m not kissing you, crazy eyes.”

Calum blinks. His gaze refocuses, flitting around Michael’s face too quickly, like trying to calibrate himself. “What if I kissed you?”

Michael shifts his weight, barely a foot away, and smirks. “That’d be okay.”

“I would never snap and serial killer kill you,” Calum says, frowning as Michael’s words finally pierce the thick haze of jet lag clouding his mind. “If I killed you it would be deeply personal and I’d leave a note and everything.”

Michael bursts into laughter. “This is why I say you’re insane!”

“I’m not insane! I’m adorable.”

“Adorably insane.” Michael calms down and catches his breath. “Well? Are you gonna kiss me or—”

“Stop calling me insane and we’ll just see,” Calum says, except then he kisses Michael anyway because he’s tired of not kissing Michael and this argument is not worth the time they’re wasting not kissing.

Michael’s hands immediately find their way to Calum’s waist, pulling him closer so they’re flush against each other. In the stillness of the room, Calum’s own heartbeat is loud in his ears. He wonders if Michael can hear it, or feel it, or if he’d find it strange if he could. They’re just friends who kiss. There’s nothing strange about that.

Anyway, Calum’s a man on a mission, and his palms slide up Michael’s arms and shoulders, framing his face for a second, then continue around the back of his head to the unexpectedly soft strands of hair at the back. 

Victory.

Well, almost victory. His fingertips bump against the brim of the cap on Michael’s head, and Calum grabs the hat and tugs it off him. The gesture makes Michael choke on a laugh and pull away.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s in the way,” Calum insists, taking advantage of the pause to push Michael’s hair off his forehead. A blissful smile breaks across Michael’s face, but he shakes his head anyway like he has to at least pretend to mock every single thing Calum does.

“It’s part of my look,” he says. Calum drops the cap carelessly to the floor and wraps his arms around Michael’s neck.

“Don’t care,” he says airily. “My enjoyment of our kiss is more important than your aesthetic.”

Michael breathes a laugh. “Rude.”

“Rude of you to wear a hat and hide all this sexy hair.”

“Oh, I see. It’s all about the hair.”

“Yeah, duh.” Calum leans their foreheads together. “Pick a bad colour and this is over.”

“Better not pick a bad colour, then.”

Calum smiles. “Don’t think a bad colour exists for you,” he admits. And I don’t think anything could convince me to end this, no matter what I say.

Michael is quiet, watching him, and after a moment of silence he leans in to kiss Calum again, like it’s the only adequate reply he can come up with.

Calum threads his fingers through Michael’s lilac hair and imagines the colour staining his skin, leaving an amethyst residue on his fingertips. He drags his hands down to Michael’s face, imagines leaving a lavender trail, marking the trajectory of his touch. Smudging violet across Michael’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Michael doesn’t taste like lavender or lilac — he tastes like mint toothpaste — but the colours are so vivid behind Calum’s closed eyes that he can swear he can taste them on Michael’s tongue.

When Michael pulls away, Calum licks his lips and opens his eyes. He’s disappointed to find Michael looking like Michael, no extraneous hair dye anywhere, all pale and pink lips but no purple in sight beyond the disaster that is his hair.

“Um,” Calum says, catching up to his own train of thought. “I think I’m tired.”

“Wow,” Michael says. “Hard for me not to take that personally, Cal.”

Calum grins. He’s not sure if he’s tired so much as just ready to call it a night. Otherwise he risks ruining this perfect ending to their day. Any day that ends with kissing Michael can’t be that bad.

“Hey, I could keep going,” he says.

Michael shakes his head, then hesitates, then kisses Calum once more. It goes straight to Calum’s toes, to the tips of his fingers. Somehow, the last kiss is always the best one.

“Well I, for one, am fuckin’ beat,” Michael says when they’re separate again.

Calum resists every single urge to just keep kissing him. If it were up to him they’d never stop. The only reason he ever lets up is the promise that at least they’ll get to do it again the next day. Even now, with the post-show exhaustion catching up to him and Michael basically swaying where he stands — even now, he wants to steal one more, one for safekeeping, one to lock up in a memory box Just In Case.

That would be insane, though.

“We need to sleep,” Michael says. “Or at least I need to sleep.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep,” Calum says. “But dibs little spoon.”

Michael sighs. “Fine.”

Calum kisses his cheek, then leaps backwards and lands on the bed spread-eagle. He doesn’t even have a chance to readjust before Michael’s climbing on top of him like a baby goat or a particularly needy cat. “Oof,” Calum says. “Get off me, stupid.”

“Technically, I think this counts as you being the little spoon,” Michael observes, which is absolutely not true and complete bullshit. 

Calum jerks his shoulder until he dislodges Michael from on top of him. “You’re still in your show clothes, you disgusting pig. Put on some pyjamas at least, Jesus Christ. I’m not cuddling with your sweaty arse.”

“Alright, fuck, chillax,” Michael huffs, clumsily stumbling off the bed and over to his suitcase. While he changes, Calum pushes the covers back and snuggles up underneath. It’s wonderfully warm with the blanket and the hoodie and everything. Calum sighs contentedly. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights,” he adds.

Michael finishes changing into sweats and a t-shirt and kills the lights. On his way back to the bed Calum hears him almost trip. “What the fuck is this?” Another pause. “Oh, it’s my hat.”

“Whoops,” says Calum. Michael finally returns to bed and crawls under the blanket where Calum’s made himself comfortable. “You looked pretty good in it. I just really— I wanted to touch your hair.”

Michael kind of laughs quietly. “And? How was it?”

“Delicious,” Calum hums. He grabs Michael’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Very tasty. Would touch again.”

“You can’t— that doesn’t even—”

“Shh. Shhhhh. Just let it happen.”

Michael sighs. His arm wraps snugly around Calum’s waist, and Calum takes back his thoughts about jet lag. It doesn’t seem like such an issue anymore. “I love you, weirdo. Goodnight.”

“Love you too,” Calum says. He yawns, which leads to Michael yawning; they both giggle, but then silence descends, and Calum falls asleep surprisingly quickly after that, with Michael breathing in his ear.

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

Harrisco 11&17

You got it! (Sorry it took so long to get to this.)

* * * Cisco didn't even flinch this time as a screwdriver whipped past his workstation and stuck into the wall, Harry's following growl of frustration echoing directly after. Mostly because he was used to Harry throwing things by now, and he felt Harry's pain at the moment. They'd been trying to figure out the best way to stop a meta, Andrew Rue, who could manipulate his physical structure to pretty much become invisible. The guy was after Harry. Or more like Thawne, the other Harrison Wells, whatever. Barry'd had his ass handed to him twice now. And Cisco's actual ass was still sore from his own encounter. (Getting thrown off a second-story balcony and somehow how landing ass-first into the roof of a car was really the only good luck they'd had, now that he considered it.) "Screw it. Let's blow it up and call it a day." Harry's stern and frustrated voice did catch Cisco's attention this time. But that had more to do with what he said and not the fact he'd spoken. Cisco popped his head slightly above the level of his monitor and looked across the room to see Harry standing in front of the reflective net they were attempting (and thus far failing) to make work. "Harry," Cisco's voice was chastising, like speaking to a child. It made Harry's shoulders tense as he turned, hands still on his hips as he glared at Cisco through the rims of his glasses. "We are not blowing up the only thing we have that can potentially stop Invisi-man." "Stop it. Stop calling him that. It's a terrible name." The tall man dropped his hands and motioned to the net. "It's not working, Ramon. We can't calibrate it. His ability to shift spectrums is too advanced. We need to come up with a better idea." Cisco sighed heavily, if not a bit dramatically, and stood up stiffly, trying to ignore the ache that went through each thigh, cheek, and his lower back before moving around the console toward the brooding Harry and the not-working net. "Well, if you'd stop trying to tweak this thing manually and actually work on the equations like we agreed on-"

"You're the one who can't stand for more than ten minutes at a time, you can't work on the-"

"I can't sit for long, either, Harry." He crossed his arms, "You act like it's my fault my a-... that I got hurt." "Hurt." Harry said flatly, then reached up and pulled his glasses off. "You're lucky all that happened to you was a bruised ass. You could've been killed, all because-" Harry's suddenly cut-off tone had been frustrated with the hint of sarcasm they always used with one another, but there was something else in his eyes. The glare wasn't entirely frustrated. In fact, it verged more on worried? Huh. "No, it's not your fault. It's mine." Harry pushed past him, putting his glasses back on as he went, heading for the single door to the tiny lab. "Woah, wait, what?" Cisco blinked and dropped his arms, turning and quickly hurrying after the grumpy-cat scientist, grabbing him by the elbow just as he got into the hallway. "Why would you say it's your fault?" Harry didn't answer at first, standing still where Cisco had stopped him. Then he looked down at Cisco with the quietest, most tender expression he had ever seen the man turn toward him. "Rue is after me. Because he thinks I'm Thawne. How is this," he motioned to Cisco with his free hand, "Not my fault?"

"Is that the real reason you've been throwing stuff all day?" Cisco asked softly, a slow smile forming on his lips. "How many times have you reminded us that you're not Thawne? How many times have I had to remind you that you're not responsible for the chaos your face comes with?" He quipped lightly. Harry frowned heavily at him. "I'll keep doing it, by the way. I'll keep reminding you." "Why?" Harry demanded, that familiar rasp to his voice filling the space between them. Cisco chuckled a little, then just reached up and grabbed the back of Harry's head, pulling him down till their mouths met. He loved kissing Harry. Never tired of it. It had been addictive the first time, and would be for the millionth time. They'd only started their crazy relationship about four months ago, but damn if Cisco wasn't hooked. Harry was the yin to his yang. The peanut butter to his jelly. The criss to his cross. Couldn't have one without the other, not anymore. The fact that he got to see and feel all the soft, tender, gentle parts of Harry that no one else saw, down to his battered but honestly kind of beautiful heart, meant everything to Cisco. But that also meant living with all the angry, grumpy, self-loathing tendencies that were a very big part of Harry's psyche.

"I think the 'why' would be apparent to you by now. But I'll spell it out for you, again, if you want." Cisco held onto the bluer than blue gaze he'd also become addicted to. Harry's hands had molded to Cisco's sides sometime during the kiss, and hadn't moved. Harry shook his head slightly, though he seemed more at ease, soft humor sparkling in his gaze. "I love you, too, jackass." That made Cisco smile back, big and bright right before he kissed Harry again for good measure. Then they went back to the lab and got back to work, though sitting side by side this time, working on the equations in almost companionable silence. Harry, however, still held that air of agitation. Of worry. Cisco wanted to ease it away entirely.

Then an idea popped into his head. And he fought the urge to smile at himself.

With a quick click of his mouse and run-through of his fingers on the keyboard in front of him, he pinged a message to Harry's phone. It made the tall man freeze in place for a moment before sighing and rifling the phone out of his pocket.

'Did you just come out of the oven? Cause you're HOT.' Harry just stared at the message on his phone, blinked, then turned his whole seat to stare straight at Cisco who refused to look at him, fighting the urge to giggle like a maniac. Then he began typing again.

"Ramon, don't." Aaaand ping. The muscles in Harry's jaw strained and he visibly heaved a breath before looking down at his phone again.

'Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got FINE written all over you.'

Ping.

'Do you play soccer? Cause you're a keeper!'

Ping.

'Are you French? Cause Eiffel for you.'

Harry pressed something on his phone, then shut off the screen, nearly shoving it back into his pocket before turning to his console without a word and beginning to furiously type something.

Ping.

Wait... that wasn't Harry's phone. Cisco reached into his own pocket.

'If your ass isn't hurting anymore, I will gladly rectify that.'

Cisco blinked, swallowed, turning slightly wide eyes toward Harry, who was watching him, waiting patiently, face a complete blank.

"Are you being serious?" Cisco half-whispered. Harry just raised a brow. "I wish that sarcasm was available as a font, cause I can't tell if you're joking or not." Harry leaned forward, meeting Cisco nearly face to face, grabbing his phone out of his hands and setting it aside without breaking eye contact.

"I'm always serious, Ramon." He said easily. Cisco felt every inch of his skin light up at the words and proximity of Harry. And he inhaled sharply, turning away to bring the equations back up onto his monitor.

"Invisi-man is getting caught, RIGHT NOW!" he practically slammed his fingers into the keyboard. And Harry laughed. Hard.

Sometimes, Harry forgot that the metas here weren't his fault. That he couldn't protect everyone. And Cisco had no problem reminding him that he wasn't the one to blame.

Sometimes, Cisco could still learn a thing or two from Harry. Like there was something to be said for not having any subtlety.

They eventually managed to get the net to work.

Andrew Rue, aka Invisi-man, was down for the count by the end of the night. And Harry kept very good to his word about... eh-hem... things.

There would always be some sort of danger, some meta in the mix who had it out for one of them. But as Cisco relaxed happily naked in Harry's decidedly wonderful arms in the bed they shared, he had a feeling it was this crazy relationship that would keep him going through all of it.

"Hey Harry," Cisco smiled a little, resting his head a little more comfortably on Harry's shoulder as the taller man slid his fingers up and down Cisco's spine in the dark.

"Mm?"

"If you were a TransFormer, you'd be Optimus Fine."

Harry sighed, loud and obnoxious, making Cisco's head rise and fall where it lay. He couldn't help it, he started giggling like a monster. And Harry tightened both arms around him.

"No more cheesy ass pick-up lines, Ramon. You already got me. And I'm not going anywhere."

Damn straight.

As the quiet settled in around them, however, Cisco kept coming up with cheesy one-liners. He kept them to himself. And as the weeks went on, he continued to torture Harry with them. The tall man took it in stride with endless humor in his eyes and a decidedly sarcastic exchange. And every now and then, Harry would remind Cisco that he loved him, despite Cisco's 'utterly incomprehensible ability to annoy the ever-loving shit out of him.'

It made Cisco want to invent a sarcastic font, for no other reason than to keep it going every day. Part of him knew Harry would hate it. But the rest of him knew Harry would never pass up the chance to see Cisco smile or laugh. And that would be worth every glare, every clench of Harry's jaw, every opportunity Harry would take to make Cisco beyond flustered.

Because Cisco loved that jackass right back.

He had a very wonderful feeling that he always would.

[moonwaif]

So I've been thinking about some CQL crossover ships for Xie Wang, and one of them is XieWang/Lan Xichen. Long post with headcanons under the cut.

Also, like. I guess all of these take place within a xianxia/cultivation universe? More high fantasy than the universe of SHL. And none of this is based on novel universe for either fandom--both are strictly SHL and CQL universes.

Xie Wang/Lan Xichen (aka Zewu-jun can have a murder boyfriend, as a treat.)

The Dynamic.

First off . . . there’s no age gap. Both of them are adults. I’m not sure how old either of them are exactly in their respective canons, but. I just want to make that clear.

Both have been deceived/manipulated by people they care about. Interpret it how you want to interpret it, but they gravely misunderstood one of the most important people in their lives and paid the price for it.

The, "No matter what you've done, I can't kill you" one is dating the "But I can!" one.

Also, like? Pipa and xiao jam sessions? Matching outfits? Sign me tf up.

The early stages.

I’m not sure how they would meet. Perhaps Xie Wang is on an undercover mission in Gusu. Meanwhile, Lan Xichen has finally left seclusion so that his brother can go on a honeymoon with the Yiling Laozu.

When Lan Xichen and Xie Wang meet, I think it would be nice for there to be instant attraction. This can be on a physical level, but also on an intellectual level. They both have silver tongues, are intuitive, and are excellent communicators. I think these two kings would recognize that in one another just after one interaction.

However, they don’t trust each other. Xie Wang is probably operating under some kind of alias. Lan Xichen is more guarded now. I’m sure he still wants to believe the best of people, but life has scarred him. He feels like Xie Wang may be hiding something. Xie Wang, meanwhile, thinks Lan Xichen is just “too good to be true.” Someone with such a peerless reputation must be corrupt on the inside. I mean, just look at the Venerated Triad and how they ended up. Could the only surviving sworn brother really be THAT good?

But as time goes on, they see more sides of each other. It gets harder and harder to believe the worst about the other person. Xie Wang probably falls first, and falls hard. He likes Lan Xichen’s balanced outlook on life, his willingness to overlook rumor and reputation and make his own judgments on a person’s character. In an unguarded moment, Lan Xichen might imply that this has been one of his flaws or weaknesses in the past. Xie Wang just smiles at him and says it’s a strength. (Lan Xichen’s heart flutters, but so what? He doesn’t feel like he can trust his heart yet.)

Anyway, back to Xie Wang. He is impressed by Lan Xichen’s acceptance of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian--particularly considering Wei Wuxian’s less than pristine background. I think there is a lot of good material here for some intimate conversations in which Xie Wang asks Lan Xichen about his opinion of Wei Wuxian, but he’s not actually talking abou Wei Wuxian--he’s really asking about himself.

The ordeal of being Known.

Nevertheless, Xie Wang doesn’t completely trust Lan Xichen yet, and he’s terrified of what will happen when Lan Xichen finds out who he is, but . . . Xie Wang still cares about him. He enjoys Lan Xichen’s company. He craves Lan Xichen’s praise and attention, and resents anyone who tries to steal it away. He wants their time together to last as long as possible. And inevitably, he wants to do whatever he can to help Lan Xichen succeed in his goals. Which, to Xie Wang’s surprise, have less to do with personal gain and more to do with making a positive impact on the cultivation world. As more time passes, it gets harder and harder for Xie Wang to play it cool and hold his cards to his chest.

Lan Xichen is touched by Xie Wang’s earnesty, enthusiasm and loyalty. It softens his heart. He finds himself growing fond of Xie Wang’s company, looking forward to his visits, indulging in conversations about music and art and calligraphy and politics. At the same time, he witnesses instances of violence and cruelty from Xie Wang that disturb him. It reminds him of Jin Guanyao--the red flags that in the past Lan Xichen either rationalized or ignored. It puts Lan Xichen in this awkward position of growing closer to Xie Wang, opening up to him, only to pull back suddenly. Rinse, wash, repeat.

Xie Wang, of course, doesn’t really know what’s going on in Lan Xichen’s head. Fortunately, he’s perceptive. As he does more digging into Lan Xichen’s past, he probably puts two and two together and realizes that Lan Xichen is trying to protect his own heart. However, he’ll also wonder if Lan Xichen knows more than he’s letting on--if he is perhaps aware of Xie Wang’s true identity, and that’s why he won’t open up to him. Or perhaps it’s just Xie Wang’s personal flaws. He’s always been too impulsive, too selfish, too distracting. Someone of Lan Xichen’s calibre may find these characteristics distasteful.

I actually think Lan Xichen may put the pieces together and begin to suspect Xie Wang’s true identity. If Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are around, they would probably do the same and accelerate this realization. However, I am not sure that Lan Xichen would act immediately on it. He may instead try to give Xie Wang opportunities to come forward with the truth on his own.

Xie Wang will dodge all of these opportunities like “lol nope.”

Cat’s out of the bag.

Anyway, after lots of like. Cute moments, and moments of camaraderie, and moments of yearning and angst, things finally come to a head. Perhaps Lan Xichen finds himself caught up in a scheme that involves the Scorpion and a rival group. Xie Wang ends up having to take Lan Xichen captive in order to protect him. In this moment, Lan Xichen is able to see another side of Xie Wang--one that he’s only caught glimpses of before. Xie Wang is cold, domineering, calculating, and cruel. It’s sexy but also terrifying. Lan Xichen hardens his own expression and is quite distant to Xie Wang, which of course just breaks Xie Wang’s heart. But Xie Wang can’t show it just yet, not while they are still surrounded by onlookers. It wouldn’t be wise to reveal any weaknesses to those who are constantly at the ready to take advantage of any vulnerable bits.

As soon as Xie Wang can find a moment to be alone with Lan Xichen (truly alone, with no spies or eavesdroppers), he would sit down and speak honestly with him. He tells Lan Xichen that he harbors no ill intentions towards him or the Lan sect (or perhaps he does, at least with concern to the latter--it’s up to how complicated you imagine this kind of AU). And against his better judgment, the more Lan Xichen hears . . . the more he finds himself believing Xie Wang. In fact, he’s relieved that they can finally reach this point of honesty with each other.

Lan Xichen is terrified he’s making a mistake, but . . . he wants to believe Xie Wang. He wants to believe him so, so badly. After some difficult conversations and lots of promises exchanged between them, Lan Xichen relents.

Xie Wang is just absolutely delighted to the point of tears. All of his softness and sweetness comes back.

From this point on, I think we can see a power couple at work. Both of them are intuitive, intelligent and nuanced. They can work together to solve whatever scheme is happening. Collaborating brings them closer, honestly.

Xie Wang is reluctant to let Lan Xichen go, but does so. (He’s mostly worried about Lan Xichen’s safety.)

(If you want to make things really painful, you could have Lan Xichen temporarily reject Xie Wang. This would probably be motivated by Lan Xichen’s past experiences, when he continued to support and defend Jin Guangyao despite all evidence to the contrary. Terrified of making the same mistake--of letting people he cares about become hurt because of a temporary lack of judgment--might actually lead him to betray Xie Wang and reveal his true identity to the Lan clan. This would lead to a temporary and very angsty “break up” arc. The irony could be that Lan Xichen actually regrets NOT trusting Xie Wang or supporting him down the road. I would like to see something like this culminate in Xie Wang being injured/narrowly escaping a dangerous confrontation with an enemy, and Lan Xichen rescuing him, holding him close, and whispering, “I’m sorry.” GOD Xie Wang would just fall apart. The hurt/comfort potential. My word.)

Hurt/comfort potential.

At some point, Xie Wang might be injured or suffer some kind of loss. Perhaps he went after someone who was a threat to Lan Xichen in some way, and got himself in a pickle. He makes it out, but is the worse for wear. Lan Xichen, who is normally so polite and intentional with his words, finds himself losing his temper. How could Xie Wang make such a rash decision? Isn’t he supposed to be the Scorpion King for a reason?

These words push Xie Wang over the edge. He snaps back that yes, he knows he’s reckless--that he’s too impulsive--too demanding--that he’s always letting his emotions get the best of him, again and again. But he was scared for Lan Xichen. What was he supposed to do, just sit back and bear it?

Lan Xichen’s anger dissipates. He consoles Xie Wang, tells him that he’s not any of those things. Xie Wang is shocked speechless. He’s even more shocked when Lan Xichen admits he was wrong for speaking harshly and asks for Xie Wang’s forgiveness. “It was only that seeing you in this state unnerved me. I would not want any harm to come to you on my account. I’m sorry.”

Xie Wang melts.

Xie Wang drinks vinegar.

Being together means that Xie Wang and Lan Xichen are more intimate. They are moving physically closer, becoming more familiar with one another’s spaces. Xie Wang is very greedy for this closeness, and probably starts to become a little possessive about the things in Lan Xichen’s room. Keeping things tidy, adding decorations, sorting through things, etc.

Anyway, one day he comes across Jin Guangya’s hat by accident.

“Gege :+) who’s hat is this? :+)”

He begins to engage in a recurring fantasy where he slices the hat to pieces.

It’s just that, well. Xie Wang is intensely jealous of Jin Guangyao’s hat. He is intensely jealous of Jin Guangyao’s memory. Just hearing his name is enough to make Xie Wang lose it a little on the inside, like, “Not this b**** again.” But on the outside he is very calm.

Most of the time.

Look. It’s already hard enough knowing that someone like Xie Wang, the leader of a shady group of assassins, will probably never be accepted as a suitable partner for Lan Xichen. And this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. He’s been used before by Zhao Jing, the person who was supposed to be his yifu, the person who kept Xie Wang in the dark and only brought him into the light when it was useful. So Xie Wang can’t help but feel nervous that Lan Xichen will just want to keep him in the dark, too. Like logically, he knows Lan Xichen wouldn’t do that. Lan Xichen is a better person than that, he wouldn’t take advantage of anyone in that way, especially not Xie Wang! Lan Xichen cares about Xie Wang! But Xie Wang also knows he’s miscalculated in the past. He can’t help the nugget of uncertainty that weasels its way in.

You can play this up as angsty if you want, or you can play it for comedy. Maybe Lan Xichen receives a gift from a potential suitor. Xie Wang sees it and asks who it’s from. On his best day, he smiles calmly and says something like, “How elegant and thoughtful. I know just the place to put this.” (That place is the trash.) On his worst day, he wines and says, “How tacky! Gege, why do you continue to even meet with that old cow?”

Lan Xichen is exceptionally understanding and patient, although he does need to set some firm boundaries from time to time.

Jin Guangyao causes drama from beyond the grave.

Eventually Xie Wang is going to have a very off-day. And on this off-day, he talks about a topic that he should definitely have avoided, which is Jin Guangyao.

Basically, Xie Wang is not going to understand why Lan Xichen feels guilty for what happened to Jin Guangyao. Or rather, he does not believe that Lan Xichen SHOULD feel guilty. And he tells Lan Xichen this, very insistently. Lan Xichen, who has been coping through the good ole Lan technique of Repress And Don’t Express, becomes frustrated. His frustration builds when Xie Wang basically says that no matter what Jin Guangyao may have suffered, he shouldn’t have betrayed Lan Xichen--that Jin Guangyao even deserves what happened to him (and perhaps Xie Wang believes this last part, or perhaps he’s just being petty--it’s up to you). Lan Xichen almost loses his temper--almost. But then he just. Shuts down, completely. Like very coldly and calmly says something to the effect of, “I expected you of all people to understand me. I see I was mistaken. Excuse me.” And just. Leaves.

Xie Wang is a MESS. Honestly he would have preferred being yelled at. This calm reaction is disconcerting and makes him worry that he’s lost Lan Xichen for good. He’s also shocked at himself for being so purposefully wilful and obstinate. He was trying to be good!!

Making up.

Instead of pulling away, Xie Wang waits an appropriate amount of time for things to settle (lmao like 12 hours), then shows right back up acting like nothing ever happened. He’s very talkative and sweet, chatting peacefully about unrelated topics. He probably flits about the room, straightening this and that, then perches beside Lan Xichen. His heart sinks when he sees Lan Xichen’s expression.

Xie Wangs cautiously begins speaking. “About yesterday . . . I shouldn’t have contradicted you. I was being difficult and impetuous. Gege, please forgive me.”

And like, what is Lan Xichen supposed to do with that? Say “no”? Lmao.

Fortunately, Lan Xichen has taken some time to self-reflect. He’s a bit dismayed that he continues to act out of character with Xie Wang. Normally, he is so good at maintaining his composure. With Xie Wang, however, he continues to get caught up in his own feelings until he fumbles.

Anyway, Lan Xichen actually takes this opportunity to reflect and open up to Xie Wang about his friendship with Jin Guangyao. He tells him about what happened between him and his sworn brothers, where he believes he made mistakes, how he wishes things would have worked out differently. He also says that he sees it as a weakness of his own that even now, he isn’t able to completely blame Jin Guangyao. It’s not like this is Xie Wang’s first time hearing about any of this, but it IS his first time hearing the information directly from Lan Xichen.

Xie Wang takes his hand and says that kind of loyalty and kindness is what makes Lan Xichen dear to him, and is its own type of wisdom. Lan Xichen doesn’t completely agree with this assessment, but he doesn’t argue against it, either. He merely asks Xie Wang if there is anything else he’d like to know.

Xie Wang is a bit hesitant. Without meeting Lan Xichen’s gaze, he observes that Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen were very close. He wants to know what place Jin Guangyao still occupies in Lan Xichen’s heart.

To be continued . . .

(Lol I ran out of steam for a minute)

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

okay. this is a post about a new character, who is a person in the same 'verse as the main one for Robert and Isabelle, sci-fi and spaceships. she is a pastor in the one specific "limits on technology" religion I made up, but also, she is very cool. she does not live on their main terraformed colony, she lives in another colony with some definite cultural differences.

I am mostly posting this for my own future reference. there are definitely people who will enjoy Gwendolyn a lot, even with the extensive trigger tag situation here, but I think "a short story that has space for more nuance" would be a better venue for her than "my thoughts from Skype at 4AM"

if you do decide to read this, check the tags first, please

shoutout to @anonymus-maximus-er for being my thought partner on this.

but as I understand it now, there are, like , degrees of Intensity in Church Of Man

like, even their chillest followers are kind of intense about it because it's hard to be real, real chill about "god said we were only allowed to use these specific fifteen technologies" or whatever the exact rules are

but as far as incubators go, Aimee's community, the one you saw, would definitely have been like "well, too bad God wants that baby to die" and there are some other communities which would be more like "okay, probably make sure your baby does not die, do what you've gotta do there, but don't come back and talk to us afterwards"

and also for sure there are communities like "do literally whatever you have to do to make sure your baby does not die, we will be here with whole-made casseroles when you're home again"

and like, could some of those kids have benefitted from subsequent quality-of-life stuff they didn't get? probably, yes

to varying degrees

but hopefully Aimee finds a nice community where she can be like "this is so important to me but my babies and I experienced a bunch of technology in order to not die and we got excommunicated."

and they're like "wow that sounds like a lot of Not Your Fault would you like some whole-made casseroles and toddler clothes?"

and she's like "I got excommunicated" and they're like "did you know, perhaps you didn't, that there is no Central Authority for every Church Of Man church in the galaxy? there for sure is not! the people from New Maryland often pretend they are, but we didn't vote for them! your old pastor is just not at all the boss of us, is the thing"

that is the future epilogue I want for Aimee

I feel like the Tau Ceti Church of Man community is small and some people think they're weird, but they're nice neighbors. their pastor is a woman named Gwendolyn or something who is just constantly mad about Richard Brinton That Fucking Asshole

she has never called him any of those words because of decorum, she has just spent a lot of time talking to new people like "wow you seem very traumatized did you know he is not the boss of us?"

"we don't have a pope!"

"we've tried to have a council a few times, but it's logistically complicated"

"every church is supposed to make its own rules in accordance with the texts"

"yes, I have read every single one of his missives to the world, I know which bits of the Texts you probably have memorized, here are some bits I like a lot"

Gwendolyn has some opinions

like, churches are supposed to set their own rules about "necessary" technologies and she has quietly labeled almost all life-saving medical technology "necessary"

meanwhile, Brinton thinks it's necessary for him to have access to telecommunications equipment to he can send his editorials all over the galaxy, so people can be Educated

huh

of course, he does not actually physically touch the telecommunications equipment, he keeps like four people who know how to use it around so they can spread his word, but also, huh

the thing about Gwendolyn is that she has spent a long time watching traumatized New Marylanders join her community, many of them quite young and quite traumatized

also, she was never a New Marylander, she is fourth-generation Tau Ceti, which, crucially

means that her first set of principles is "Church Stuff, Misc" and her second set of principles, right there after the first is "you're not the boss of me"

even if somebody could point to actual scripture that said they were the boss of her, she would have some trouble with it, but some dude! who cannot point to anything at all! no justification whatsoever! nothing in the texts even a little bit! keeps trying to be the boss of her! and also keeps traumatizing all of the people in his community pretty badly! and making everyone else look like jerks!

"I'm more conservative than you, therefore, I am the boss of you"

NOPE

not for Gwendolyn

Gwendolyn votes in every local election and votes for her Senator, who she has met and quite likes. she occasionally goes to protests when the local government does some dipshit thing, but the Tau Ceti local government is pretty well-behaved because if it's not the citizenry will absolutely be like "fuck you, you're not the boss of me" at its government

she has some Very Big Opinions about debtor employment. she's not thrilled about the like, severity of the gang situation in her city, but she doesn't have a lot of optimism that the Government is gonna fix it, so she does community groups instead

also, in recognition of the fact that she can't just throw these traumatized New Marylanders right off into the personal autonomy deep end she is like "okay, if you need someone to tell you what to do sometimes, I will be the temporary boss of you until you are ready to be the boss of you"

she does not Love that aspect of her job, but sometimes you gotta

you can't bring people from "obedience all the time" to "you must make every choice in your life with no backup" overnight, they'll just collapse in on themselves or become targets for worse people

so she does the thing

she and Brinton have a <very> passive aggressive correspondence going as church leaders

there are many many long letters back and forth

they are very polite and also, if any of them are preserved, historians will find them fascinating

"wow these people just fucking loathed each other"

Anonymus, 5:05 AM

your obedient servant, A. Burr

5:05 AM

if they did not live on separate planets, legitimately maybe

like, if she could get to Brinton's house on a horse to yell at him in person, she would have by now

she didn't swear a lot in real life, but sometimes she wanted to

she got real good at saying "that man" or "sugar" or "nonsense" in A Tone, but you could tell

I can't decide if she has a husband or a wife

Aimee's church definitely thinks gay people are Modern and therefore Wrong, but like

I feel like probably their specific religious texts don't even have that much on being nice to people? like, there's definitely a few pages on like "kindness is an ancient value, we hold fast to ancient values, these are them"

but it's like 70% Rules Minutiae

it's also not a super long book

so everybody has very different opinions about how to interpret the Rules Minutiae in light of the 30% of the book that's like "here are our actual values"

"modesty" and "fidelity" are both in the Ancient Values bits for sure

and I feel like different denominations went in different directions on the "modesty" and "fidelity" implications of "gay people"

no, I've decided, Gwendolyn definitely has a wife

show her in the actual rules where she can't have a wife

yes, fidelity, that thing she has with her wife

Anonymus, 5:13 AM

can the wife be a very proper rebbetzin?

organises all the casserole chains

5:14 AM

yes, she can definitely organize all of the casserole chains

5:18 AM

right

Gwendolyn's wife's name is Tara and she came from an Earth Church of Man community where they were like "technically it's not illegal for you to be gay, but, like, ehhhh? we'd rather you didn't and also you definitely cannot have children if you're gay"

5:20 AM

and she got to Tau Ceti and met Gwendolyn who even in college was like "show me in the texts where it says I cannot have a wife."

"show me."

Anonymus, 5:21 AM

sounds like excellent breeding ground for Very Textually and Theologically Conversant, but not actually a religious authority

5:21 AM

the thing is, Tau Ceti is Bad At Authority

if they had a motto on their coins it would just be "you're not the boss of me" but maybe in Latin

but maybe not even in Latin because people who know Latin often think they are the boss of you

Anonymus, 5:22 AM

WHO MADE U KING

5:22 AM

for real

I think there is a dude who is technically the "boss" of Gwendolyn and they take turns giving the sermons and calibrating which parishoners they support based on like, communication styles in a way that often ends up with just all of the women and queer folks being Gwendolyn's people

she is smarter than him, he handles all of the Local Politics things that require you not to go "EXCUSE me, where is the LAW ABOUT THAT"

Anonymus, 5:24 AM

different type of smart

5:24 AM

if he ever tried to pull rank on her, she would either be so startled that it would work or she would unhinge her jaw and eat him

so he's never tried

he doesn't want to! very few people on Tau Ceti even want to be in charge, both because it's like herding cats who will hate you if they catch you herding them and because the finely honed distrust of authority doesn't go away when you become authority

Anonymus, 5:26 AM

"I'm pretty sure I'm up to some bullshit"

5:27 AM

yeah, Gwendolyn spends a lot of time with these sad transplants from other communities, nearly all of them women (because for SOME REASON women tend to get excommunicated WAY MORE OFTEN. HUH. are there ADDITIONAL RULES for WOMEN? I DON'T SEE ANY)

and they're like "please I am so sad and scared just tell me what to do"

and she wants to be like "I am not the boss of you, you have to be the boss of you" but they often are not ready for that, so she just tries to get a sense of what they want to do or what might be healthiest for them and tells them her strong recommendation is that they do that thing

everyone in her community knows she is passionate and can get fired up about some of this stuff, she doesn't hide that, but also, there are some conversations she (a only has with her wife and also (b has had with her wife a number of times

they are basically "our community is like 55% traumatized exiles from other communities and like 30% traumatized people from This One Dude's Community specifically. he traumatizes women and girls and girls he calls women and gay people and parents with sick babies!"

"we have so so many people we take care of now who are so so shaken and traumatized and sad"

"and we only get the people who don't leave the faith entirely!"

"it's not fair! it's not fair that he gets to do that! it's not fair!"

because when you carry the faces of like twenty good people all traumatized by the same garbage person and all you can do is try to take care of them and send passive-aggressive letters, sometimes it sucks!

if they lived on the same planet and she could get there on a horse, she would have done something ill-advised by now. yelled, certainly

but then again, if she had been born on New Maryland she would be a super different person and if he had been born on Tau Ceti there would have been a hard upper limit on how much he could get anyone to listen to him

like, bad bullshit happens on Tau Ceti, but the first time he married a fourteen-year-old girl off to her rapist, his neighbors would have set him on fire

church of man neighbors, regular neighbors, possibly neighbors who are criminals, just all the neighbors

5:37 AM

so her wife listens to her cry and reads over her letters to Brinton to make sure she doesn't actually say anything Too Impolitic (I think her boss also reads them, but he's less invested)

and her wife has these new folks over for dinner and helps them find clothes for their kids and adapt their modesty rules to the thing where it's like, as hot as it is possible to be in Tau Ceti

5:38 AM

like, most of the summer it's like 120 degrees, on a brisk day in December it drops into like, the low nineties

5:39 AM

sometimes people from other communities are like "we do modesty more modestly than they do" and they have to be like "okay, your choices are us dressing this way or us using air conditioning, because people do die in real life of heatstroke sometimes, that is a thing that can kill you"

also, even before Gwendolyn came along, her previous pastor was definitely like "we're gonna make electric fans permissible. we're just... heatstroke sure does kill you in real life"

"particularly in Modest Dress"

she liked him. they had meetings like twice a month when she was young because she had A Lot of questions and her parents were less invested in the answers than she was

when she was like twelve, he was like "maybe they'll give you my job one day" and she was like "I don't want your job! you're the boss of people!" and he was like "they very much would not give you my job if you wanted my job, kiddo"

(even 50% of the organized crime leaders on Tau Ceti are like "hey, I'm not the boss of anybody, I'm just a guy you don't want to fuck with because of all of the friends that I have got"

"I am not the boss of you, but I do have this gun")

5:49 AM

final thought on Gwendolyn: she had a real hard time when Robert Thompson died, because that dude thought her faith was a good reason to murder a husband and father.

and like, that dude is a fucking asshole, obviously, but it's hard

and then Brinton puts out an editorial about it and it is the only time Gwendolyn and Tara's children ever hear one of their mothers swear

because she is usually super meticulous about that

but also, sometimes

there is a limit

she makes several attempts before she writes him her next letter and the subtext of the entire letter is just "fuck you SO much, I do not generally believe in Hell, however, I will make an exception"

there is a limit! a man is dead and his wife and daughter are grieving and then a dude who everyone thinks is, like, the pope of her puts out some bullshit like "of course we don't do hate crimes but also that dude who got murdered deserved it" bullshit

there is a limit she is past it!

5:53 AM

also, they have seven adopted kids

[takemeawaytocamelot]

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 31

Two chapters in one week! It’s always fun to write and we have been on a roll! We’re just as excited as you guys to see what happens next with this story. Thank you again for your patience.

Catch up on chapter 30 HERE or the whole story on my Master List HERE

Stealth had always been a strength of his. His plan had worked, if not in the way he’d expected. Daring a glance down the hallway, Stephen Bonnet prepared to make his move.

“Where is he,” a deep, Scottish voice asked.

“Dinna ken, boss. He wasnae with the other men.”

Someone sighed.

“We have to find the bastard or Jamie will never be safe.”

Bonnet waited until the voices drifted away from his position. Then, he emerged and made his way to where he’d left his Seer. It was time to finish what he’d begun, no matter the cost. This Seer would work for him, whether by choice or force. Bonnet would have an advantage over everyone he met or worked with and would finally get the riches he’d always dreamed of. If he had to kill the Seer’s woman, so be it.

***

Somewhere in the darkness, ice touched Jamie’s skin. It burned in a different way, a more pleasant way. This burn was soothing, rather than destructive, a balm to the fire that consumed him. He clung to it desperately. The pain eased, the coolness spreading from the inside out, like a chill from the wind on the moors. Then, the blackness of eternity turned a cool, soft white, and he heard the voice of an angel.

“Breathe, soldier,” she whispered. “I’m here. It will be alright.”

Relief flooded through him like a tidal wave, leaving a tingling peace in its wake.

Claire.

The soft coolness of her touch gave way to the cold, hard metal floor underneath him and the stale smell of sweat and dusty air. His brow furrowed in confusion as the hands on his face trembled. Jamie opened his eyes, breath hitching as they met Claire’s tearful golden gaze.

God in heaven…

His eyes opened wide in alarm as Claire swayed and fell to the floor beside him.

“Claire?” he rasped, turning to his side. Every muscle in his body hurt… but he was alive. He was whole.

“Jamie,” Claire whispered, droplets of tears dripping down her temples and into her curls. She reached for his face, fingers cold as ice.  “Oh Jamie…”

She was shivering madly, face deathly pale. Christ.

“Sorcha?” he whispered, clutching her hand as she reached for his face. “How…?”

The sounds of fighting reached his ears, the pointed blast of a small calibre handgun snapping Jamie out of the last remnants of foggy thoughts.

“No! Mo Gradh, ye shouldna be here!”

Jamie pushed himself upright, surprised at the ease of it.

“Neither should you,” she answered, staring up at him with such desperate love that he thought time had stopped again.

Another shot.

“He’ll be back!” he said urgently, putting an arm under her shoulders. “Claire I must get ye out. Ye dinna ken what he’ll do if..”

“This was supposed… to be the other way around…” she replied weakly as he stood her up. “They’ll be causing the distraction I expect.”

Jamie wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they stumbled toward the door. Whoever “they” were were certainly making a fine job of it. Her head nodded onto his shoulder and he took a moment to bury his nose in her hair, breathing in her flowery scent.

“Stay wi’ me mo chridhe,” he whispered in her ear.

Claire made a small noise, lifting her head.

“That way,” she whispered, gesturing down the long hallway. “Murtagh and the rest... should be the other way.”

Jamie tucked her in more closely, worried at how weak she was. He’d admonish her for endangering herself later. Feeling the return of a headache coming on, he blinked.

No. No, not now.

At the sound of another scuffle erupting Jamie led Claire out of the room that had been his prison. He could just make out the door at the end of the long hallway, a small shaft of light peaking through the crack. Then a flash…

Golden eyes gazed into his, soft and lovely…

“No…”

… as her hands vainly held the life’s blood draining from her body.

“Jamie? Jamie, what’s wrong?” came the echo of her voice, tearing him from the vision that haunted him.

“No!”

He’s stumbled against the wall, the trickle of blood oozing it’s way down his upper lip. Claire made to reach for him but he pulled her to himself, forcing her to walk.

“There’s no time, mo nighean donn, we must go. I canna…”

Then his head exploded and he fell to his knees.

Blood. So much blood. Why wouldn’t it stop? God, make it stop!

“Jamie, get up,” he heard in his ear. “Please, love.”

He could feel her fruitless tugging on his arm. Groaning, Jamie shakily got them both back to their feet and started toward the door to freedom. We can change the future, they had said. It must be changed. It must.

Though his vision swam, he pushed them forward. If she had gotten in here, Murtagh would have given her a way to escape. He needed to see his Claire safe. Everything came to a screeching halt when two familiar feet emerged from a doorway.

“Looks like my plan worked,” Stephen Bonnet said casually. “Got your lass to come and save you.”

Jamie’s heart stopped. Carefully, he moved Claire behind him and stepped forward. He wasn’t feeling his best yet, but he wouldn’t let Bonnet get to Claire.

“Ye canna have her, Bonnet.”

“See, you misunderstood me, Fraser. I don’t want her. I want you. But she will be a good insurance policy, don’t you think?”

Jamie took a another step forward and Bonnet produced a gun.

“Ah... Not so fast.”

Clenching his fists, Jamie fixed Bonnet with a glare. Everything got worse when Bonnet’s aim moved slowly from Jamie to Claire, who was leaning against the wall.

“No! Wait. Let her go. I’ll go wi’ ye, just… let her go.”

Jamie took one breath, then another. Between the second and third breaths, he threw himself forward. His aim was to make Bonnet drop the gun, whatever he had to do to protect Claire. The problem with that plan was Jamie’s own lack of energy. Bonnet saw the move coming and shoved Jamie out of the way.

“That was the wrong choice, Fraser. You should have Seen this coming.”

With absolute horror, he watched Bonnet lift his arm and take aim. There was nothing he could do, he was too far away and too weak. Bonnet looked back at him, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. On anyone else, it might have been charming or sweet. But on the Irishman, it was chilling.

“You asked me to let her go.” Bonnet shrugged, chuckling. “You didn’t say how.”

As the cry that ripped from Jamie’s throat escaped, Bonnet pulled the trigger and time itself slowed. Claire’s eyes, wide with shock, met his as her hands moved to the bleeding wound in her chest. One tear slid down her cheek as her sweet mouth made to say his name. Then she fell, curled in on herself.

Blood. So much blood.

His simmering rage erupted as Jamie slammed himself into Bonnet. Kill him. Save Claire. Nothing else mattered anymore. His creditable rugby tackle had knocked the Irishman off balance, giving Jamie enough time to slam Bonnet’s aiming arm into the wall and administer a good blow to his kidney. The gun fell to the floor.

“All you had to do was tell me what I wanted to know,” Bonnet said in a soothing tone. “I didn’t want to kill the lass.”

“Dinna blame me for this!”

Bonnet shrugged.

“If you’d answered my question, I wouldn’t have had to shoot her, now would I?”

Jamie was seeing red, all control lost. The more he attempted to pummel the Irish bastard the more entertained he seemed to be.

“Ye want to ken what yer future holds?” Jamie growled, blood beginning to pour from his nose again. “I give you the hour of your death.”

Something shifted in the cold eyes of Stephen Bonnet. A hesitance that sealed his fate. Jamie shoved him to the ground and turned to Claire, lying helpless in a trembling heap on the floor.

“It would have been much simpler, Fraser, if you’d done as I asked.”

Bonnet turned and headed down the hallway, making for his escape.

A figure stepped in front of him, holding a small pistol.

“I don’t think so,” Geillis Duncan said. “You’ve caused enough problems.”

“Move out of the way, lass. I don’t want to hurt-”

Geillis pulled the trigger, watching Stephen Bonnet sink to the ground. Blood began to pool under him as she tucked the gun back into its holster.

“That was for shooting Claire.”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky ch. 18

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

~~*~~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

~~*~~

Read Chapter 18 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

If Edge were forced to consider it, likely under penalty of punishment and with great embarrassment, he would have been forced to admit that the next week might well be the happiest of his entire life.

The station was running as smoothly as possible, all its occupants working diligently as the good weather held. No major mechanical issues, no emergencies, large or small, and overhead the auroras swirled and spiraled throughout the endless nights. His brother was doing well, going willingly if grudgingly to Alphys for his next healing session, and Alphys began joining them at meals more often than not, sitting next to Undyne who fairly glowed her adoration. All the researchers were busily focused on their work and not a single complaint, petty or otherwise, found its way to Edge’s door.

That was well and good, but not the source of his happiness. No, that came from the cheerful smile of another skeleton Monster who stood at over 2 meters tall and probably weighed no more than 100lbs while he was soaking wet and wearing full outdoor gear, including the boots.

Likely Rus could calculate the actual weight in that brilliant mind of his, someday, Edge should ask.

Rus fit into the station like a puzzle piece they never knew was missing, both at the dinner table as he laughed at Undyne’s lewd jokes and in the lab as he helped Alphys with the delicate calibrations of her machines. When Edge visited Bonnie in the kitchen sometimes Rus would be there, chatting with quick flashes of his hands and even if he weren’t, Bonnie would still be working contently, humming tunelessly beneath her breath.

If Red chose to join the others in the rec room, the evening might end with the two of them in a round of horrible puns and insults that was better than a recorded stand-up routine and left any of the scientists there roaring with laughter, to the point that many came right after dinner hoping to find a good seat.

Then there were his own nights with Rus. It wasn’t simply the sex, delightful as it was, it was also the time afterward. With the curtains drawn back from the window, the aurora cast tangles of complicated light across them, filling the room to the brim. Edge could hold Rus in the circle of his arms and listen as he talked. About his work, about gossip around the station, whatever caught on his clever mind. If Edge were genuinely interested, he could ask questions and if he weren’t, he could simply drift and listen to that rich voice washing over him. And if he wanted Rus to be quiet, well, there were ways to handle that as well and his voice was just as lovely when he was moaning out Edge’s name, his bared bones lit in the soft glow of the southern lights

All of those things packaged together were like an unexpected gift, lovingly wrapped and brought to Edge here at the end of the world.

But was a simple piece of fruit that made Edge realize he was in love.

Edge was only just returning from taking the Glaciologists out to Station #5, a trip that took several hours to get there and back, and left him mostly sitting in the cab of the Cat, half keeping a watchful eye over them as they worked and half on the kindle he’d brought along. By this stage, he could generally trust the scientists not to endanger themselves needlessly out of ignorance or stupidity, or a combination of both, and it gave him a rare chance to catch up on his reading.

When they returned, the scientists had their heads all but glued together as they discussed results, leaving Edge on his own to take care of the vehicle before heading back inside. Before he could make it through the door, a slim body crashed into his own, almost sending both of them into the snowdrifts. Edge caught Rus automatically, sputtering protests and laughter as one as he was smothered in kisses, Rus’s mouth icy cold against his own.

Despite the layers of outdoor gear and gloves, when Rus practically tried to climb him, Edge only caught him under the knees and hefted him up, saying teasingly, “Are you having trouble walking today?”

“if i say yes, will you carry me?” Rus grinned, but he didn’t give Edge a chance to reply, squirming free despite Edge’s attempts to hold onto him. He tugged on Edge’s arm urgently, pulling him towards the door. “come on!”

Edge frowned and followed along, out of the arctic wind into the warmth of the vestibule, "What’s wrong?"

"nothing is wrong,” Rus whispered loudly, “but alphys has this whole place hotwired and it’s a secret!" He made a show of looking around furtively, winking at Edge as he pulled off his boots and coat.

Bemused, Edge did the same, hanging them up as he always did despite Rus’s impatience. He followed Rus back to his room. More like their room; somehow in the past few days, Rus practically moved in, only going back to his own for a change of clothes. Edge’s once empty bookshelves were gaining astronomy magazines and star charts, along with pencils that weren’t his, riddled with teeth marks from their owner absently chewing on them. Even Rus’s work was migrating here, the bedside table was a mess of pages and notes in Rus’s chicken-scratch writing.

Not even a week before Edge would have firmly believed that chaos introduced into his carefully organized life would be infuriating, and yet, even the stray sock in the corner of the room only filled him with fondness, a sign that Rus was still here.

The moment the door closed behind them, Rus crawled up on the bed but instead of a leer or an invitation to an afternoon delight, he held up a triumphant hand. “check this out!”

When he opened his fist, in his palm he held up a small brightly colored globe. An orange, the dimpled peel very nearly the same shade as his magic.

“Where on earth did you get that?” Edge asked, astonished. Oranges were rare treat that they usually only had when the ship first dropped off the researchers. They didn’t keep well and generally the only citrus available on the station came in frozen concentrates.

Rus grinned delightedly at his surprise. “bonnie.”

Of course. Some time ago Bonnie ordered a couple tiny dwarf fruit trees and she’d kept them in her own quarters with a small hydroponics setup that Alphys rigged for her. That was well over a year ago, closer to two, and he’d forgotten about them entirely. Until now.

“she was so excited,” Rus said gleefully, “she said it’s the first fruits she’s gotten!”

“And she gave one to you?”

Rus scoffed as he began carefully peeling the small fruit, “please, like you’re surprised. we all know i’m her favorite. here.”

Truer words.

Rus held out one of the segments, white threads of pith still clinging. Edge took it from his hand, bone lightly grazing bone, and cautiously ate it.

Juice burst across his tongue, almost bitterly sour and as Rus ate his own segment, his pretty face puckered, his grin going into a grimacing wince and in that moment with shared taste of the fruit between them, Edge knew he loved him.

Unremarkable, really. It was nothing like the ridiculous movies that Undyne sometimes watched, loudly claiming they were Alphys’s choice when she was the one sitting there watching with a Kleenex clutched uselessly in one hand as her good eye streamed unhindered and her eyepatch glistened wet over a pretend couple onscreen proclaiming their love.

But there were no fireworks, no lightning flash, not even the aurora blazing overhead. There was only a soft pulse in his soul, a realization.

He loved Rus. Loved his smile and his laughter, the joy he brought into Edge’s staid life. Loved him as he complained, “oooh, sour!”, flopping back on the bed and rolling on the blankets in mock convulsions.

He loved Rus and said nothing, only took another segment of orange when Rus offered it, finishing off the tiny fruit between them.

Rus took the last segment, twirling the little crescent between his fingers. He stuck it between his teeth, tipping his head up in teasing offering, and Edge was not particularly worldly when it came to lovers, but he knew an invitation when he saw one. He leaned down, biting gently on his half of the orange piece and the sourness was tempered in the sweetness of the kiss.

“welp, that’s that,” Rus sighed as he drew back to chew the last bite. “bonnie asked me to save the peel for her cookin’ needs.” Rus carefully set it on the table and his grin turned slyly inviting. “you need to run off for anything important, boss?”

“It’s possible I have a few minutes left to spare,” Edge told him blandly. He let none of his roiling thoughts show in his expression, revealing nothing but uncomplicated desire.

“good thing i’m a minute man—oh!”

Because when the time came, he would need to let this brilliant light go. Rus was as bright as the sun, he needed to get back to the world, and leave this one of frequent darkness behind.

But until then, this was his, and Edge was going to hold it close while he could.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, he wasn’t the only one taking an interest in Rus’s future.

“So, you asked the fashion victim to stick around yet?” Undyne grunted. She was holding up the antenna they were installing for Alphys, a strange, spiraling device made of coils and scaffolding. After Rus’s adventure out in the snowstorm, Alphys devised a way to extend the capacity of their communication devices, her hope being that when she was finished, their cell phones would work as actual phones and not simply as text devices whenever they were close enough to connect to the wi-fi.

It was something that had been discussed before and apparently, all she needed was a burst of inspiration to work it out.

“I have not, not that it’s any business of yours.” The conversation was paused as Edge used the hydraulic drill to fasten the base deep into the concrete slab that held the communications tower. Four screws the width of two of his fingers later, and it was done. Even the fiercest of storms wouldn’t shake it loose. He was less certain about Undyne and swatted her away when she tried to jostle it. She fell back, scowling down at him as he packed up the tools.

“Why not?” Undyne demanded. “Don’t know how it’s escaped your attention, but he’s pretty much the missing jelly from our peanut butter sandwich. He’d do good work here, boss, and we could use another set of hands.”

Edge only busied himself sweeping up the last of the metal shavings into a small tin and sealed it. “I believe I already said that it was none of your business.” Not that he believed anything so droll as ‘not her business’ was going to prevent Undyne from jamming her nonexistent nose in, but he had to try.

From her fierce scowl, he was concluding that the attempt was a failed one. “C’mon, boss, you can hire him on. You and I both know it ain’t about the money. The institute would put him on payroll if you asked and even if they didn’t, we could each kick in enough G to afford keeping him around.”

“You’re right, it is not about the money,” Edge agreed. Some of his irritation leaked in his voice as he pointed out, “Weren’t you the one advertising our relationship as a temporary distraction? In fact, I believe that was one of your major selling points.”

“Yeah, but.” Undyne sighed, shuffling her booted feet awkwardly like an oversized child. “Al really likes him, and she doesn’t take to people easy.”

“I know.”

“And you like him. I like him. Red likes him, fucking Bonnie likes him, and the only other person she’s ever liked is you,” Undyne said, watching Edge finish with the tools without lifting a bratty finger to help despite still having eight to spare. “So what’s the problem here? Once this crew clears out, between you and me, we could get him trained up. On the next rotation, he acts as a junior guide, only works in the local stations. He can keep up with his studies, work on his starry mumbo jumbo as much as he likes, and you two can keep up with your mattress tangoing, after Al adds a little more soundproofing to your room. Win-win, boss, that’s all I’m seeing.”

“There’s one problem with your plan.” Edge picked up the gear bag and headed towards the Maintenance building.

Undyne was on his heels almost immediately. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Rus doesn’t belong here,” Edge replied. The weather was clear and after the racket of the drill, his voice almost seemed to echo in the cold darkness. “We are here because this is the only place in this dust-forsaken world where we can live in peace. Rus doesn’t have to stay, he has his entire life out there to explore and despite your confidence in my skills in bed, I daresay he can find someone else with similar aptitude out there.”

“Aw, c’mon, boss!” Undyne whined.

Edge stopped and faced her, and even through his goggles and hers, she looked upset. Undyne was also not one who took to people easily, cementing proof that Rus was somehow an expert at worming his way into their corner of the world. It did raise a few odd warning bells, reminders of his brother’s concerns over Rus, over his brother who should be dead, warnings that Edge was not ignoring but not allowing to linger in the forefront of his mind. It could be suspicious, or it could be that Rus was simply a very likable person, his personality shone like the stars he watched so diligently. Certainly none of the others on his team could say that, Undyne and Alphys might have a sparkle but Red was more of a black hole and Edge likened his own temperament to a piece of concrete.

Frankly, he rather expected Rus to laugh if he were asked to stay and Edge wouldn’t blame him for it. Rus had less than two weeks left of his rotation and whatever fallout came from him being here, they’d know soon enough.

“Undyne,” Edge said, trying for gentleness. “he has a family, a career waiting for him out there. Staying here at the end of the world will leach that spark out of him.”

Undyne only bared her teeth in a razor grimace, “If you’re gonna talk about him like that, don’t even try to convince me you don’t want him to stay.”

“I never said that I didn’t.” Edge started walking again, deliberately giving Undyne his back.

She didn’t take the hint. “Yeah, well, you might want to ask his opinion on that before you go on ahead and make it for him. Ask him!”

“No, because he might damn well be foolish enough to stay!” Edge snapped. “I want what’s best for him and I am self-aware enough to know that it isn’t me.”

“You sure?” Undyne retorted. She flung an arm out, gesturing to the endless expanse of icy landscape surrounding them. “All this snow ain’t exactly Alphys’s idea of a good time either, but she came with us and she stays.”

Where else could she possibly go, Edge did not say. No matter how truthful it was. Where could any of them go, they’d lived out with the Humans, tried on the idea of a normal life and found the fit to be an ill one. “I’m through discussing this with you, I told you, it’s none of your business.”

“It sure as fucking hell is my business if I have to sit for the next year watching you mope, you bony-ass, stubborn—” she trailed away, her held tilting to the side. Edge heard it, too, both of them turning to the north towards the faint rumbling sound overhead. Lights separated from the starry sky, a helicopter coming in fast.

“Who the fuck…?” Undyne muttered.

Red’s voice came out thin and filled with static over the walkie-talkie. “hey, boss, we got visitors.”

“Yes, we know,” Edge hastened his steps, tossing the tool bag into the Maintenance shed.

“already got the pilot on the horn. says they’re from the institute. he’s got the right landing codes. want me to send them in?”

“Direct them towards the helicopter pad,” Edge told him, “I’m on my way.”

Undyne was close at his side, her face drawn down in concern. “Since when does the Institute do more than send us a new list of researchers and take our supply list?”

“They sent me an email a while ago saying we might be receiving visitors,” Edge admitted, “but they never followed up on it. I’d honestly forgotten.” The unusual missive had gotten lost in the shuffle in the midst of his and Rus’s past argument.

The helicopter pad was as well-maintained as the rest of the station, kept clear of snow and debris despite nearly always being empty. It was generally only for emergencies, although Red threw out the occasional idle jibe that once his skull was healed, he was looking into getting a pilot’s license. As if Antarctica didn’t have enough dangers without his brother dive-bombing down from the sky.

They kept back, watching the sleek machine settle its narrow runners on the pad. The helicopter pilot only waved and did not exit, the side door sliding open and two figures clad in outdoor gear climbed out.

Next to him Edge felt the superheated surge of magic from Undyne, the air suddenly thick with ozone.

The bundled-up visitors coming towards them were obviously Monsters, one of them towering over the other who was not at all short. There were passing few Monsters of that size, less still with a nearly visible aura of power radiating from them, a sign of a boss monster.

They came to a stop a distance away, the larger Monster pushing up their goggles to regard them with eyes that were a deep, solemn shade of red.

“Hello, Captain,” Toriel said clearly. She inclined her head regally to Undyne.

If it was an attempt at diplomacy, it failed from the second word. Undyne puffed up like an angered sea lion, snarling out, “I’m not the one in charge here, you sanctimonious twat,” She heaved in a breath, spit flying as she growled, “and I sure as shit ain’t the captain of the guard, anymore.”

She took a step forward, eye and gloved hands already wreathed threateningly with magic and Edge held her back with a cautioning arm, though Toriel made no move to defend herself.

“Easy,” Edge murmured. He raised his voice, calling over, “What brings you to our station, your Highness.”

“I do, actually.” Her companion stepped forward and a pair of glowing hands formed out of magic appeared in front of them, moving in Hands to form the words even as Edge flinched back in shock at hearing a spoken language he barely recalled from childhood. It seemed somehow far away, like a voice heard in a dream. The other Monster pushed up their own goggles, revealing a be-spectacled skeleton face with narrow fissures running from both their sockets, each in the opposite direction as the other. “I’m looking for my brother.”

tbc

[obsessionsposts]

🔪Yan! 2p Italy hc's🥀:

T.W : Heavy description of tortures /non-con use of drugs / implied non-con / Dead dove: Do not eat / abuse/ Brainwashing / mental illness < I do not romanticize nor degrade it, if portrayed incorrectly I'll fix it > neglect / obsessive behavior / unhealthy behavior / Luciano himself / generally really really dark shit not for feint of heart.

X - First sighting: In a Nightclub, which was hosted by a rival mafia. His goal was to take care of his enemy,lest he ruins his "business".

Yet, He didn't find his prey. Frustrated and vexed, Luciano strode hurriedly pushing anyone in his way. However, He didn't expected to be called out by.... ,at first he thought a measle, a divine lady such as you.

At least, this failed ploy brought him a new bird for his enjoyment ; that will be inserted into a cage that she will never ever leave.

X- Infatuation: Her figure burned in his mind, Her fragrance stung his nose, Her sharp arched eyes haunts his dreams, and.......her mellifluous voice along with her gallant actions has attracted him so so badly.

Luciano hadn't an ounce of sleep since then,but was preoccupied planning to cage his only one. Smirking and laughing dauntly at the idea of possessing an angel, or much preferable a songbird that will sing a song of praise and adoration for him. Only him.

Yandere type: Possessive,Sadistic,Controlling.

Luciano values power above anything else , and that extend to his s/o. Anything that cements him power over his s/o , i.e. : marriage, is granted to happen whether the s/o has a choice is up to debate.

Another thing, he will nitpick his s/o willpower; so he could relish his power through this torment.

Speaking of torments, by god any misconduct - small or big - will be chastised through many forms of tortures.

Luciano is a major sadist (Not the worst,but bad enough to declare him as the second worst) and he gets off from the cries,screams, and begging from his pretty little pet ~ .

If anything, he anticipate her disobedience; so he could see the terrific fear running amok in her irises. Oh~ such a turn on and mark of possession.

Prepare to be dictated by a tyrant charismatic man who does see you as an object to fulfil his megalomanic fantasies cherishes and adore you to a degree that you're not aware enough; so much that he will buy the world for your whims .From your everyday clothes to your behaviour will fit his sick visionary criteria of an exhilarating trapped prisoner lady.

But, worry not you're irreplaceable to him. Aren't you happy to receive the recognition and courtesy of a man with high calibre as Luciano. You deserve only the best, and he is the best for you. Luciano will make sure of it.

X- Method of stalking and frequency of it ? Frankly, he is most likely to be busy, so he'll send his men to 'observe' you. However, if otherwise he will come and play on your fears giving you the false sense of security. Then he will take you out into a new world,where you'll be spoiled as long as you don't disobey him.

X- How do they treat their s/o ?

More of an object, where he can project all his desire on. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't care for you. If anything he truly does, however not in the conventional sense. More so the s/o is obedient, Luciano will mellow down and be much less paranoid and fanatical.

On these day, he will be much courteous and kind enough to let his darling out on a picnic,library, museums,etc....... . Also, they will drown in his wealth,company, and anything they wished for as long as she submits herself completely to him as he did to her.

+ Nickname for their s/o?

Anything that indicates possession over s/o and elegant names that suits his glorious s/o. Ex: My nightingale - My songbird - Mio amore- My dove - My Juliet, My bitch, mockingbird,etc....

Punishments:

Little Nightingale has been naughty! that simply won't do. Well, you forced his hands for what's going to occur to you now. However, Luciano is delighted to put both his best loved in action ; that is his expertise in torment and his treasure.

Most of his torture consists of physical, psychological, and slight sexual. However, he specializes and adores psychological because it relish his power and gives a boost to his narcasstic ego along with that the gorgeous cascade that runs from your engaging pupils and shrilling voice of a weeping angel.

Ego Fragmenting: This method consist of killling identity of oneself, usually by psychedelic drugs. Also, known as ego death. A process Luciano will make his darling undertake by forcing drugs that will eat slowly at her neurotransmitter such as: DMT,LSD,MDMA,and similar drugs. As it will alter her perception of reality making her valnurable - leaving her in a transcendence state- and in need of his assistant. Plus it's a sure way to kill a rebellious mockingbird.

Learned Helplessness: The process above will lead to this one which is another process,but worse.Learned helplessness is behavior exhibited by a subject after enduring repeated aversive stimuli beyond their control. After the s/o is subjected to different mindfucks and drugs she'll become more accepting and apathetic of what's happening to her rendering her from thinking of treason escape.

Classical Brainwashing: After his work of art is done. Luciano will start mending and twisting his s/o to make the greatest masterpiece of all. 'Now be a good little girl for me and sit in my lap and please me~. I know you in and out disobeying me will make me upset and you don't want that do you ~ ?'

Cat O' Nine: Luciano isn't above using this if you persist (somehow, by a will of a damn saint) even more and if you tried to escape. He'll beat out the common sense out of you until a rivulets of ruby-like substance come out of you. Lo and behold Such a wonderful sight ! (What a prick! If you ask me :/)

Degradation/non-con: By God, if s/o pissed him (mind you, he is short tempered. So, dont tread on thin ice)off beyond the breaking point...well...you're pretty fucked literally and figuratively. At this point, he pretty much take you without the consideration-no lubrication either-of your feeling because in the end you'll eat it like the fucking whore you are and you're his belonging whether you like or not. At this point, Luciano is self-indulgent and impulsive. (Basically, a sociopathic piece of shit. Good luck on escaping cause' you'll need it.) It is horrid as it is that he is paranoid enough that he locks his darling in a huge-ass bird cage and will deprive the comforts inside as punishment.

In Conclusion:

There is a saying that the apple never falls far from the tree. Well in this case, it true. The sadism and machiavellianism manifested form his grandfather,Titus, neglect and borderline-abusive parenting. As years grown, his condition got worse until he committed his first offence senicide to protect his brother and to gain the absolute power he always looked up for.

Despite the power he has, Luciano is much a coward when he lack his assists as he usually abuses his authority and sacrifice his pawns to gain whatever he want(instead of doing it himself). To put it simply a treacherous man-child throwing tempers.

His obessison for power and beauty stem from the poverty he and his brother suffered from his monster of a guardian. That's why his s/o boldness and that....enticing bodice brought the attention of a hungry-driven beast to a fierce doe.

Chances of escaping is low to diminished unless you're clever enough to trick the trickster himself. If by any miracle chance you did expect a multiple deaths in the area you're living and be arrested for a crime you've never committed. Plus, a raving monster the next day. Wonderful ! Is it not?!

He has a huge libidos, so good luck satisfying it. Most of the time,Luciano will take your consent apart from when he is in tantrums. In addition, before he have s/o, he used to have a flings and that stopped when he saw his beauty.

One of the most paranoid and fanatical yandere brought to you by detrimental childhood and not getting help™.

Unlike other yandere, Luciano lets his s/o come to him not the other way around by luring her into his heavenly trap. Also, Luciano is an excellent actor as he can hide his lecherous rage with his charming flirtatious attitude that is used as a mean to gain s/o before unveil how much of.... a bastard he is. A smooth bastard.

A behaving darling keeps the demon away ™.

"Then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams"

~ Monster by

Meg & Dia

A/n: I am sorry for the delay. Writer block is just horrendous. But, here you go hope you like it. Like usual pic doesn't belong to me.

[becausegoodbye]

a few of my favourite albums of 2020

Jogging House - Be ... (plus Morimoto Naoki - Hibi) (plus Green-House - Six Songs for Invisible Gardens ...) (plus Denis Tremblay - SLEEP BETTER IN NOISY CLASSROOMS ...)

2020 was the year I got super into ambient music. There've always been albums I felt worked best nestled into the background, and Brian Eno's 'Ambient 1' has been a favourite for almost a decade, but this year the search took on a different energy. I approach ambient music with an extremely indulgent kind of simplicity  — "Are these pretty sounds that make my ears feel good?" — and there's something really gratifying about setting yourself a question simple enough that you know you'll always be able to answer it. The ambient albums I loved this year I discovered almost entirely through Bandcamp, which is replete with so many tiny cassette labels that you can find ones that cater to every possible sub-calibration of ambient vibe (my personal favourites are Seil, Constellation Tatsu, Aural Canyon, Dauw, Global Patterns, and 梅レコード). It feels a little rude to combine several different albums into the same entry here, but for me, my unwillingness to analyse them is part of their strength. I just put them on and sink into my chair. They feel good the same way a fluffy dressing gown feels good against your skin, or a cat feels good pressing itself against your shin. This year, I decided that it didn't need to be any more complicated than that.

Dan Deacon - Mystic Familiar For a microfiction competition late last year, I wrote a short story about everyone in the world simultaneously deciding to lie down permanently and let the bugs eat us. The idea was to try and describe something intuitively repulsive to us (beetles licking your eyeballs, ants carrying off your flesh) in a way that made it feel meditative and beautiful. Then not even a week later, the video for ‘Sat By a Tree’ came out, which was about almost the exact same thing. This album doesn’t seem to have struck a chord with very many people, and I can get why: the vocals are still too shyly buried for lyrics people, and too nakedly earnest for folks who just want to bliss out. Even I can’t deny that I’d probably like this album more if the vocals were treated differently, or if it were reworked as a totally instrumental piece. But there’s a pursuit in all of Dan’s music that resonates with me on a subdermal level, and it’s carried through on this album beautifully. It’s the quest for density, for something maximal and full enough to approximate the teeming microscopic and macroscopic busyness of life. When I listen to Dan Deacon, I always think about microbes: about how each of us is a teeming metropolis more than a singular being. It’s the missing perspective that allows a person to see that being eaten by bugs isn’t so bad; it’s the most appropriate possible thing that could happen to us. (Emphasis on the ‘us’.)

Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud

Nobody needs me to tell them that Katie Crutchfield is a great songwriter. This is a classic album of heartbreak, of regret, of sobering up: a splint on an arm that’s still holding onto what it’s lost. The lyrics are pitched at this particular allegorical intensity – hells, landslides, scientific cryptograms – and the country-inflected indie-rock instrumentation largely has the sense to simply get out of the way. There’s a sympathetic wisdom to the songs here, focused less on the worst intensities of grief than on the life you figure out how to live afterwards. It’s an arm on your shoulder and an eye to the horizon. 

“You might mourn all that you wasted That's just part of the haul Tangling up all your good fortune Bearing the heart of the fall You won't break it after all”

Dirty Projectors - 5EPs This is silly, incautious conjecture on my part, but Dave Longstreth feels like he's putting in the work of redemption. I was close to writing him off after the arch bitterness of 2017's self-titled record (a break-up album that was nauseatingly heavy on the arrogant self-righteousness), but 2018's Lamp Lit Prose did a lot to re-interest me. Its smile felt forced at times, but its melodies and rhythms were undeniable: reminders of why I was invested in this asshole in the first place. This year, Dirty Projectors put out five separate EPs, the first four each with different lead singers, then everyone coming together on the fifth. It feels as though Longstreth is making a conscious effort to bite his tongue, to clutch his micromanaging hand under the table, so that everyone else can have a chance to breathe and actually enjoy being in this band. The result is a collection of songs with a really pleasurable lightness: not the tortured and perfectionistic Artistic Statements that Longstreth's been prone to over the years, but a pigeon's glide, a coin's flash -- a less ponderous engagement with Longstreth's peculiar musical gravity. It's a lovely bunch of songs even without this projected-on story about Longstreth's personal growth, but try as I might, I can't not hear that story.

Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher

Ambient soothing aside, life's complications still exist, and Phoebe Bridgers is the queen of them. She's the only musician who seems like she thrived in quarantine, somehow cotton-candy-swirling all this loneliness and introspection and yearning and 'fuck it' into an album that feels miraculous and inexhaustible. Punisher is without doubt my favourite album of the year. It's anxious, funny, miserable, and sly. It's a dog-shaped helium balloon majestically floating into the stratosphere. I can't say enough good things about the production side of it, which maintains this perfect illuminated-manuscript balance of enhancing the text/song/scripture without ever overshadowing it. At the centre of it, though, is a songwriter who's figured out how to make every song its own entire world, keening and quaking in resonance with whatever you're going through. This has been a shit sad year, and it’s been a lot better facing that with this album than without it. No question, Phoebe was the year’s MVP. 

[roleplay-central]

The Dreadwolf Company

Augus - a master architect. a good source for building schematics and historical details. initially hired by Draud to advise on property values in the city and where to build. why he has remained on the payroll after the casino was built is a mystery. a polite individual who is generally pleasant to be around. though he seems more interested in scrolls and parchments than conversation.

Rip - a Cutter, also Draud’s floor manager and right hand man. how they know each other is a mystery, but Draud seems to trust the man who’s dry sense of humor can be a bit on the morbid side. most everyone in the company so far also seem to trust him, a few maybe even look up to him. is head over heels for Daisy, but she can’t seem to commit so he gets what he can. the only one in the company he dislikes more than Scabs is Stover who seems interested in Daisy too. 

Bricks - an experienced Cutter and thug. never seen without a burning cigar and sometimes gets involved with some of the games going on in the casino on her breaks. she doesn’t tolerate any nonsense while on the clock, however, and is often put in charge of the casino when Rip is in a meeting with Draud or they are away on business. doesn’t laugh often but is pretty easy to get along with if you compliment her weapons.

Meg - a former pit-fighter and trainer for new recruits. she has officially been put in charge of the pit-fighting ring on the property next to the casino. don’t get her started on the “glory days” or she’ll never shut up about the time she nearly punched the head off of a meaty Skovlan butcher. she’s a tough old bitch who is suspicious of everyone except Draud. she can sometimes be seen smiling around him, but anyone who’s ever said anything about it gets a broken face.

Daisy - a sneaky Lurk who spies on people for Draud and runs the occasional underground errand. she likes to stay high up above the crowd to keep an eye on everything and she never talks. not since her tongue was cut out by a drunken Skov when she was a child. a mild mannered woman who is known to show random kindness to prostitute’s on the street, especially mistreated ones. has an on-and-off again relationship with Rip.

Fiona Plenty - a really old Mercy who doesn’t really talk about herself a whole lot and won’t seem to fucking die despite all the people she heals. no one in the company (besides maybe Rip) knows how long she’s been employed by Draud, but it’s always surprising when she treats him like a grandson rather than her boss. a very sweet woman with the patience of a saint. permanently blind in one eye. some people think she’s originally from Iruvia.

Marcus - a bully Cutter, a guard for the casino and thug for any unsavory errands Draud needs taken care of. he is Lincoln’s older brother and always has to pick up after his ridiculous messes. he often says he’s gonna leave Lincoln in the gutter one day and never look back, but anyone that even looks at his baby brother the wrong way gets a hard fist in the kisser. otherwise he’s pretty easy to get along with, especially when you get a few drinks in him.

Lincoln - a hard-knocked Lurk, a scruffy thief, and a weirdly kind-hearted thug all wrapped up in one adorable package. he is Marcus’ younger brother and can’t seem to find a way to stay out of trouble. not for a lack of trying. poor Lincoln has a habit of trying to help people even when he’s being sent by Draud to do some criminal work. a very sweet man who likes to make women laugh and ironically hates gambling.

Fitz - a collector and aficionado of strange artifacts. Draud’s official financial advisor and the company’s accountant. not a lot is known about her other than what crazy new rumor is going around. the most popular is that she’s actually a minor greed devil sent by one of the Iruvian demon princes to spy on Doskvol. she ignores the gossip. an imperious attitude, she thinks she is above everyone else and they simply exist as pawn pieces to whatever money making scheme she is cooking up for Draud. why she respects him and no one else is yet another mystery. not easy to get along with, and frankly, why would you want to?

Dowler - a young explorer. one of the rare deathlands scavengers that survived his sentence. four years alone in the deathlands for armed robbery of a City Watchman. to be fair, however, he had no idea the home belonged to a Bluecoat. and he was only 15, trying to find quick ways to make money to feed his dying sister. he came back and found she had passed away from her illness. when he isn’t out scavenging for Draud, he can be spotted lurking about the casino and other properties on the block. more of a ghost than a human being. he likes hanging around Fiona the most, but doesn’t seem to have any emotions and is a bit of a fatalist. might ignore you and awkwardly walk away if you try to strike up a conversation.

Keller - a blacksmith. a source for bladed armaments. he works closely with Calibre who’s workshop sits right next door to his forge. on their time off, they like to go drinking and whoring together. some have started calling them the Forge brothers even though they look nothing alike. Keller is a tough, happy bastard who likes to joke around with the other company employees. is always trying to get Dowler to laugh, feeling sorry for the kid. since moving to Silkshore, he definitely has a eye on a few of the whores from the Gilded Lily.

Calibre - a genius gunsmith and inventor from Severos. he tries to teach Keller everything he knows in case he suddenly dies one day. he’s strangely optimistic about everything else, however, and loves to joke around with the other employees. he is always trying to come up with some new crazy contraption to make money off of. Keller seems to be the only one who supports this, although Draud has yet to tell him to stop either. he loves Iruvian women, but since Scarlet is clearly not interested, he gets his special pleasures from the brothels. just a great guy in general. like everybody’s favorite uncle.

Scabs - an experienced Imperium surgeon that runs Draud’s secret infirmary. has strange appetites. a rather vile looking man with festering facial scars and a nasty sense of humor. no one has stared long enough to tell, but some say it looks like his nose was torn off and replaced by a metal prosthetic. out of all the company employees, Scabs is the least liked and most avoided. but he is really good at what he does when Fiona is incapacitated or Riven and Ellin’s medicines aren’t enough. so they keep him around. trust me, you don’t want to know much more than that.

Riven - a chemist and a good source of medicines for recovery. but a bit unstable with the need to experiment. he is a pyromaniac and often has to be locked away for a spell when he has his brief manic episodes where he just wants to set everything on fire. he really only listens to Draud and Rip, although sometimes he’ll do whatever Ellin says just to get into her pantry where she keeps all her secret witch’s ingredients. some say there is a method to his madness. he is certainly a mad genius, if only he didn’t try to blow up his lab so often. he’d be a great conversationalist if you could get him to sit down and stay still for more than ten seconds.

Ellin - a Whisper. a knowledgeable healer and seer who works closely with Riven. mostly ordered to keep an eye on his hi-jinks, she’s grown fond of his chaotic antics. always developing new ways to calm him down, she spends most of her days reading books about the mind when she should be focused on her witchcraft. as a result, she’s not as in tune with magic and the spiritual side of things as other Whispers, but she does suffer from terrible visions occasionally and is always a bit surprised when Riven shows his concern. over time, she’s been horrified to discover she’s developed a sort of crush on the chemist. she is easy to talk to, although she can be a bit wary of strangers and often doesn’t have time to make new friends when she’s following Riven around.

King - just a plain ole thug. a gigantic man from Dagger Isles who no one wants to mess with. a former smuggler who claims his life was saved by Draud. so now he serves his life debt at the casino making sure no one tries to cheat or cause a scene. his hands look like they can crush a man’s head to jelly, which probably keeps everything peaceful when he’s standing in the corner. he doesn’t talk much, but seems polite enough. secretly a giant teddy bear and admires Bricks and her swords from afar, although he has no intention of ever approaching her about his feelings.

Stover - the head chef of the Dreadwolf’s Den with his own entire kitchen crew. he is bossy, foul mouthed, and doesn’t take orders from anyone else other than Draud. even Rip can’t get the ornery chef to do what he says. Stover never stops smoking and claims he’s determined to fall into an early grave through cigarettes rather than whatever idiotic all-out gang war the city is constantly trying to avoid. he cooks for the rest of the company on the side when the casino is closed…if they ask nicely. always gives Daisy the best leftover scraps because he’s the only one who has ever spotted her feeding the stray cats in the alleys nearby (during one of his many smoke breaks). because they’re so secretive about it, there’s a rumor going around that they’re lovers, causing a tense one-sided rivalry between Stover and Rip.

Bars - basically an idiot who’s really good with a hammer. he likes whoring and breaking things. or building them when he’s in the right mood. but he works under Bricks’ strict orders to keep the casino safe. He likes hanging out with the Forge brothers, and is often sent on errands with Marcus and Lincoln when a job needs a hardier touch. if you ask, he’d be proud to tell you he got his nickname “Bars” because the ladies have great handlebars to hold onto when riding on top of him. referring to his thick, glorious mustache of course.

Scarlet - a quick-footed Iruvian swordswoman who does the odd job for Draud. works most often with Daisy. her past is mysterious but her skills are legendary. some think she’s a former Red Sash member, but that’s just a gross assumption based on the fact that she has a strange red birthmark slashed across her face. she isn’t very easy to talk to, but she likes hanging around King, enjoying the way people get nervous at the sight of him. she knows his secret, but would never tell Bricks unless King wanted her to. she also likes listening to the others banter, though never joins in herself.

Alley Boy - a normal human man who was wrongfully accused of witchcraft and devilry when he was only twenty. it was in fact his Whisper girlfriend that framed him to take the fall before she fled the city. after he was made an example of, Alley Boy returned to the streets to do the only work a ruined face like his would allow: theft and spying. ten years later and he still doesn’t fault his former lover for what she did. he is never seen at the casino, or anywhere customers might be, preferring instead to wander around the city and only show up when he has information for Draud. he makes the most contact with Daisy and Scarlet. and seems to be the second most likely person Drowler might hang out with, if only he showed up more often and stayed longer than 2 minutes. deep down, a gentle soul who could never hurt a fly.

[letterboxd]

Fantasia 2020.

We emerge from the depths of Fantasia Festival 2020—the largest genre fest in North America—with the ten best things we saw this year.

Fantasia Festival aced this weird shitstorm of a year with one of the best online film festival experiences of 2020 so far. Sure, we miss that unique, zombie-like, end-of-fest haze brought on by midnight madness and inappropriate mealtimes, but quarantine breeds an adjacent kind of mental fog that made Fantasia’s online offering a weirdly natural place to be this year.

Tuning into Montreal from London and Auckland, our Fantasia team (Kambole Campbell, Aaron Yap and Gemma Gracewood) watched as widely as possible, and we recommend most of what we saw—but these are the ten films that stuck out.

Chasing Dream Directed by Johnnie To, written by Wai Ka-Fai, Ryder Chan and Mak Tin-Shu

Hong Kong master of genre Johnnie To once again links up with screenwriter Wai Ka Fai, the writer of Drug War and Romancing in Thin Air. Their new feature Chasing Dream finds itself somewhere between those two, telling the story of an MMA fighter with gang ties named Tiger (Jacky Heung, winner of Fantasia’s Best Actor award) who falls in love with an aspiring singer named Cuckoo (Keru Wang).

To and Wai Ka Fai’s incredibly goofy sense of humor is still totally intact, as they make a complete farce out of the singing competition that Cuckoo enters, with her greatest competitor continually performing so hard that she accumulates injuries, until she ends up in a full-body cast. As Michelle writes: “It’s Rocky meets A Star is Born, with a dash of American Idol, a pinch of musical, and a huge dollop of romance.” This is all to say that Chasing Dream really is a hell of a lot of movie at once. (KC)

Labyrinth of Cinema Directed by Nobuhiko Ōbayashi, written by Kazuya Konaka, Nobu Obayashi and Tadashi Naitō

“It’s time to revisit our history to build a better future.” So begins Labyrinth of Cinema, the final film of Japanese experimental legend Nobuhiko Ōbayashi. Following a trilogy of films contemplating modern Japanese history and war (including the ravishing Hanagatami), Labyrinth is a metatextual and metaphysical trip through the history of Japanese cinema and its intersection with war.

A handful of young characters are quite literally absorbed into the screen of the cinema they’re sitting in at the film’s beginning, jumping through different eras and genres of film, tackling everything from war and propaganda, romance and musical, to chanbara and back again. Jake Cole notes the film’s surprising optimism, writing “even as Ōbayashi grows more sober, the film conveys more and more his strength of belief that cinema is still a force for good, and that if the past cannot be helped, perhaps movies can be rethought and re-crafted to produce a better future”. (KC)

Lapsis Written and directed by Noah Hutton

Noah Hutton (son of Timothy Hutton and Debra Winger) makes his narrative feature debut with a sci-fi-that’s-barely-sci-fi film, which dives into robotics, capitalism and unionization. Not a million miles away from the activist documentaries the director already has under his belt, Lapsis is a low-key, mordant film that captures gig-economy drudgery and the arcane fog of big tech. “Honestly really fucking cool,” writes David, of Hutton’s world-building on a shoestring. “An intelligent and peculiar concept expertly executed and thoroughly entertaining from beginning to end.” Dean Imperial’s surliness is a treat. (AY)

Bleed with Me Written and directed by Amelia Moses

Not one of Bleed with Me’s 79 minutes is wasted. If any of the following sound good to you—micro-thrillers, Robert Altman's Images, Rodney Ascher’s The Nightmare, mumblecore Bergman—add Amelia Moses’ debut feature to your watchlist now. It’s an assured start from Moses, who crafts an unsettling, tantalizingly ambiguous atmosphere from the three-hander, cabin-in-the-snow confines, with Scrabble, gaslighting, bloodletting and sleep paralysis thrown in.

“Lee Marshall anchors the film with a deeply moving performance as Rowan,” writes Finhorror. “With every facial expression, movement, and line reading, she sells vulnerability and discomfort while showing a minimal amount of effort.” Would pair well with Mickey Reece’s Climate of the Hunter (florid dinner conversations, immaculate food-porn and psycho-sexual tension) for an ace double feature. (AY)

PVT CHAT Written and directed by Ben Hozie

New York filmmaker Ben Hozie examines online relationships and modern sexual fantasies with PVT CHAT, starring Uncut Gems breakout star Julia Fox as Scarlet, a cam-girl dominatrix. The film splits its focus between Scarlet and Jack (played by Peter Vack), an internet gambler who mostly remains inside his NYC apartment as he becomes fixated on her. While there’s palpable discomfort in Jack’s increasing obsession with Scarlet, the film doesn’t mock the practitioner nor the customer, and it doesn’t moralize over either of their actions—it simply leaves them plain to witness, as though a normal element of contemporary digital living.

The genuineness of the relationship between Scarlet and Jack is ambiguous—the line between performance and sincere emotion distorted via pixels. As they continue to open up to each other the line blurs further, and PVT CHAT becomes a fascinating observation of how online communication has changed and commodified the ways in which we interact with each other. (KC)

Tezuka’s Barbara Directed by Makoto Tezuka, screenplay by Hisako Kurasawa

Speaking of obsessions, Japanese filmmaker Makoto Tezuka might have chosen his father’s strangest work to adapt into a live-action film. As it says in the title, Tezuka’s Barbara is an adaptation of ‘godfather of manga’ Osamu Tezuka’s Barbara, his most hallucinatory and sexually explicit work. Opening with a Nietzsche quote about madness and love, Tezuka’s Barbara more or less conflates the two, as the main character Yosuke, an author who specializes in lurid and trashy paperbacks, falls obsessively in love with Barbara, a homeless drifter he meets in the street.

Beautifully lensed by Christopher Doyle, legendary cinematographer of Chungking Express and In The Mood For Love, Tezuka’s Barbara takes on a magical and ethereal quality, particularly in its sex scenes. Yosuke’s increasingly deranged obsession with Barbara and the young Tezuka’s depiction of it is compellingly weird, from its vivid colors and almost antiquated costuming to its Eyes Wide Shut-esque rituals of the wealthy. Deranged, perhaps opaque, but a riveting visual journey, especially with its context in mind. (KC)

Special Actors Written and directed by Shinichiro Ueda

Special Actors is the new film from Shinichiro Ueda, who turned heads with his bonkers cult film One Cut of the Dead. It may appear a little less surprising to those already familiar with his tactics, but it’s no less entertaining for it. Special Actors starts one way, as the tale of an aspiring actor looking for work, and ends somewhere else entirely. Brought into a company named ‘Special Actors’ by his estranged younger brother, Kazuko embarks on a different kind of performer’s journey, not just restricted to film and commercials, but also playing implanted mourners at funerals, fake boyfriends—whatever the client desires.

This is an Ueda film, so of course it takes a huge swerve, transforming into a bizarre and entertaining caper as the Special Actors are hired to infiltrate a cult. Ueda is more than aware of the classic conflation of film with “fakery” (as Orson Welles would call it)—the structure of a caper and its layers of illusion, truth and everything in between aligning with the requirements of stagecraft—and he has more than a little fun with it. As a result, so do we. (KC)

Feels Good Man Directed by Arthur Jones / Available on demand now

The internet was a mistake. Even if you try to stay out of the digital trash-fires, you’ll likely have heard of the ‘Pepe the Frog’ meme. Turns out, we need to pay attention to these things, particularly with another US election looming. In Feels Good Man, Arthur Jones introduces us to Matt Furie, the humble cartoonist behind the original Pepe, and then takes several wild and weird side-roads, with the most unexpected-but-entertaining talking heads, as we learn just how 4Chan and the alt-right adopted, weaponized and took the frog all the way to the White House, earning official hate-symbol status. “I came in expecting a solid documentary about a meme, and I ended up getting that and a compelling narrative about today’s troubling world,” writes Zach. (GG)

Sheep Without a Shepherd Directed by Sam Quah, written by Yang Weiwei

Dare we say “Letterboxd meets Parasite”? Sheep Without a Shepherd, Sam Quah’s debut feature (based on Jeethu Joseph’s highly rated film Drishyam), is a cinephiliac feast about have-nots taking on upper-echelon corruption. Lead character Weijie (Xiao Yang) is a working-class, obsessive cinephile who vomits his movie knowledge any chance he can get. When his family is pulled into a case of police corruption, this same cinephilia may be the only thing that gets them out of it. It’s a sturdily wrought Hitchcockian homage, with a well-calibrated balance of suspense, humor and pathos.

“What a gut punch of a movie in the best way,” writes Amanda. “A little messy at times, especially in the end, and some questionable forensics, but this is something I’ll definitely be revisiting.” The jury is still out on whether the ending—make that the many endings—worked, but for the most part Letterboxd members enjoyed the cat-and-mouseness of it all, along with its moral questionability. (AY)

You Cannot Kill David Arquette Directed by David Darg and Price James / Available on demand now

You Cannot Kill David Arquette is a rousing, eye-opening and mostly upbeat gawk at the life of the Hollywood star whose fortunes have lately run dry. Although he is out of shape and has very young children (and very cute Basset hounds) to think of, Arquette is desperate to reignite his love of pro wrestling. In a quest to prove to his heroes that he’s serious about the sport, the actor participates in backyard wrestling matches in Virginia, joins street-fighters in Mexico, and goes down a K-hole at the hands of health professionals.

“Arquette is searching for a shred of legitimacy in a world that’s always made him feel like a fraud, and by the end of this loveable, hilarious, and ineffably heartfelt doc it’s almost impossible not to believe in him,” writes David Ehrlich. As compelling a look at mental health as physical, the film benefits from the inclusion of conversations with those closest to Arquette (both of his wives feature), and there’s a heart-skipping scene involving the late Luke Perry. (GG)

Lastly, our team wanted to shout out to Daria Woszek’s Marygoround for the best end credits dedication of the year. Thanks, Fantasia! Roll on 2021.

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapter 223; a current critique on the opioid crisis [?] and some of the boys have a sleepover.

This chapter of GK starts out with an update on the status of Nikaido as he runs through the hospital on the title page for “Nikaido cheers up” with a tagline of Nikaidash at the bottom.  Ienaga doesn’t look pleased with his dashing about while perhaps Ariska is excited or wants to punch him - I really can’t tell personally.

Let’s move onto the first full page.  Nikaido greets Koito and Tsukishima with a booming shout with huge action lines declaring good morning to both of them.  Tsukishima still appears deadpan as he holds a portable urinal in his right hand (ugh, not a job I’d like to help Koito out with).  Koito politely comments that he’s looking sharper and Nikaido screams it was the new medicine that Arisaka gave him.  And then repeats good morning again with a huge shout.

Koito looks a little interested and he’s got some bags under his eyes, so clearly he’s not as keen on Nikaido as Inkarmat’s company.  Arisaka then shows up to show a vial of methampetamine and it was developed by a personal friend.  Nikaido then yells good morning to Ariska as he vibrates in the background.

Ariska then comments on Nikaido’s hyperactivity being the opposite of his depression as Tsukishima looks unimpressed and over everything.  Of course Arisaka is thinking of all of the money they will make with meth.  Ienaga then enters to check on Koito’s progress, which is improving well and then begins to hungrily lust over his youthful and beautiful skin.  As she’s about to take a bite out of Koito, Tsukishima puts a pistol to her head.  Nikaido is running around in the background.  Tsukishima is still deadpan.  I really am beginning to wonder if something in him broke when he had to threaten Koito in Karafuto.

Ienaga argues that skinning her isn’t much use since everyone has a copy of her tattoo, but Tsukishima states he’ll make a wallet of her.  I guess to replace the wallet he may have lost in the fire in Edogai’s house . . .  as I recall, he forgot his wallet on his way to the public bath when Ogata went in and the 27th burnt down the house and he didn’t have time to grab it as he fled from Ogata in search of Edogai.

Ienaga states she’s valuable to Tsurumi and that is all that matters.  The page ends with Arisaka commenting on Nikaido running around like a cat after it takes a dump.  I have to admit that is a hilarious statement to use and shows that Noda is clearly a cat lover and observer of cats.  I don’t mean to mock Nikaido’s condition, yet that term is a unique way to describe something.

My own cat loves to get the cat zooms after he goes to the litter box. Why he feels this need to be liberated after a poop is beyond me, but pretty spot on behavior.

The action then turns to Hijikata’s group as Ogata states that they should move to a new location as Ienaga was captured by Tsurumi.  It is interesting that Ogata refers Ienaga as both a geezer and he; is this a form of disrespect of Ienaga or is Ogata acting in the time period and just unsure of how to refer to her so he defaults to biological descriptions?  Saying geezer is pretty impolite so, I would think that Ogata isn’t keen on Ienaga as a person and therefore speaks rudely of her.

Nagakura saw Ienaga as a transient member of each faction and Kadokura thinks she won’t know the exact location since she was injured at that time.  Not thinking, Ushiyama assumes that Tsurumi would have killed him and taken the skin.

Ogata flat out tells them that they are all underestimating Tsurumi.  He will pick up on their trail and find this location.  He smiles as he tells them it is hard to escape from a Shinigami with a Cheshire cat smile.  Oh how I’ve missed his cat smile.  He likely knows even if they’d disagree with his firm statement as the most junior man in the room, he’s right.  Hijikata even agrees with him as he puts down a book.

I really wonder how Hijikata feels about having the team/faction with less clever people.  He gained Ogata for the time but if you stop and think about it, he really doesn’t have any intelligent planners on his team save for himself. . . .

There is then an excellent transition page where Ogata tries to shoot a mallard for dinner.  He’s now using his left hand on the trigger and right hand supporting the rifle and lining things up with his left eye.  He takes a shot and - misses the duck completely.

His reply, clearly in his own internal conversation with himself is “ . . . .” as we see him work the bolt on the rifle as he has a slight twinge of a frown as he seems to think about his last shot.

Does this mean Ogata is no longer a sniper?  Honestly, I’d say he’s re calibrating.  There are enough historical examples of snipers losing vision in one eye and retraining to use the other so it isn’t like he’s 100% lost his skills.  He’s a tough and stubborn character, I predict he’ll find a way to snipe again.  Is he disappointed?  Obviously, he’s been using a rifle since he was a kid and he’s going to have to learn everything again, but he’s a smart guy.  I think he’ll be fine.  It is more interesting to see his struggle as he has to come to terms with the fact that he’s alive and he may need to think more deeply about how he fits in the quest for the gold.  Ogata has long relied on his sniping as his #1 skill.  He has more than that, but it was the skill that defined him.  This should drive his character development.

Just like Sugimoto’s #1 skill is being able to fight like a demon and ignore his injuries.  He’s just as bad as Ogata, neither of them can afford to be one trick ponies.  They will both have to come to terms with how they look at their own skills and abilities.

The group then takes Ogata’s advice and they stay at a temple showing where a few more of their group are; Kirawus, Toni, Ushiyama, Ariko and the wee babe Kantarou.

Kantarou thinks they’ve found a good hideout with people moving through frequently.  Or it makes it harder to track those observing you as you can’t pay as much attention - I predict if they stay in the temple, Tsurumi easily slips a spy in their midst.

Kadokura then is chatting with Hijikata and Nagakura.  Despite being a sad old tanuki, he’s still in the jail employee loop and is able to explain that prisoners were sent from Kabuto prison to Abashiri to help with rebuilding.  Someone was able to find them in transit and facilitate the escape of prisoners and they are all associated with a pirate. Boutarou the pirate!  So a maximum security prisoner who is a pirate just broke his comrades out of jail.  He apparently is a very *ahem* accomplished pirate and was one of the 24 tattooed convicts. 

Hijikata then comments that he’s “making his move” so Boutarou must be interested in the gold for himself and his fellow pirates?  Hopefully, he’s a smarter convict who will make things interesting - I mean pirate, yeah.

The temple door then opens to reveal that Ogata has brought a gift home for dinner, a whooper swan which is about 5ft in size . . . soooo yeah Ogata is not a tall man.  Ah yes, the cat is proud of its kill.

This is the exact opposite of when Ogata shot the woodcocks for Asirpa.  Those were small and hard to shoot, while this is a bird with a giant target on it.  I wonder if Ogata is now working on the concept of starting with a large target and working his way down to smaller ones?

Ushiyama is the first to remark that Ogata doesn’t have to hunt for supper all the time.  It is clear that Ogata feels the need to provide for a group - I don’t think it is a whole “I must kill all the animals.”  more like “I can practice and get a free supper.  Someone please notice and love me.”

Ariko then looks shocked at Ogata’s entrance with the swan.  The middle panel is one of complete shock as he says “Superior Private Ogata”.  Oh ho!  Ariko knows Ogata even though they did not serve together during the war.  This is very interesting!  This also likely means that Kikuta will become more important and will have an encounter with Ogata.  There needs to be something that happens between the sniper and the close range marksman. 

Ariko’s reaction is such a Tanigaki reaction - he clearly does not like Ogata and he is immediately uncomfortable with him.  What is very interesting is how he touches him just like how he touched Tanigaki when they started their sniper battle.  Ariko is completely freaked out and sweating as Ogata asks him if he’s the same [betrayed Tsurumi].  The Cheshire grin as he asks if he betrayed Tsurumi’s group followed by a you never can tell.  Ogata likely knows that Ariko is similar to Tanigaki and looks even more nervous only able to reply he didn’ imagine Ogata betraying them.

So, Ariko doesn’t have a good grasp on the Ogata midset, well even Tsurumi doesn’t putting him in the same camp as the rest of the cast.  Clearly, whatever Ariko does know about Ogata implies that he was under the indication that Ogata was loyal to the group and would do his dirty work.

I really want to think that Ogata knows that Ariko has to be a mole for Tsurumi - he knows how Tsurumi thinks and I’m sure he’ll bail when the time is right.

Kirawus then is the transition to the discussion about eating the swans and adds you don’t even need to shoot one if you want to eat it when they are fattened up.  Maybe Ogata just pounced on it like a cat, but swans and geese are total assholes so I’d personally still shoot it to avoid being poked at by it.

There is an Ainu belief that if you eat a swan your hair will turn grey so Kirawus will not eat it, most of the guys decline.  Kadokura declines and is mocked by Kirawus since he already has grey hairs and Toni had not idea that he had gone grey.  Kantarou is concerned about his looks so he passes and even Ushiyama won’t do it. 

Nagakura and Hijikata enjoy the swan nabe as they describe it as tasty and dumb to pass on eating something worrying about death.  It will happen at some point in time so why not.  Ogata who is one of the youngest members of the group, then replies “hah” in agreement with both Nagakura and Hijikata as he enjoys his swan nabe.  Does this mean Ogata doesn’t care what he will look like?  That he won’t live long enough for it to matter?  Or is it his total lack of religious/superstitious belief?  Hell it could be all of these.  Ogata is not one to worry about stuff that doesn’t directly matter.

They all go to bed in one room making it an awkward slumber party as they discuss the swan nabe.  They sound like a bunch of gossiping schoolgirls and they try to decide if they should eat the nabe since they are clearly hungry.  Ogata blankly stares at the ceiling - it is clear he is judging all of them.  Look at his disengagement as he listens.

They clearly decide to eat the nabe and the next morning Nagakura gives them a hard time, teasing them about it.  Ogata looks so over it as Kantarou and Kadokura look back at Ogata uncomfortably.  The best Kadokura can come up with is the cheesy line that, they figured going grey is better than going bald.

Ogata just stares at Nagakura while Kadokura and Kantarou look a bit nervous.

It really seems like Ogata is sizing Nagakura up - everyone else then laughs (Ogata is not in the panel, but he’s clearly not laughing) and he’s back to silently watching and observing everyone.  The final page ends with Nagakura’s internal rage as he spits and his eyes are completely black.  Best not to enrage his inner fire . . .

This chapter has been quite useful and is staring to fill in more information as the factions shift.

1.) Koito is recovering well and Tsukishima has kept his dead on the inside and outside expression since Karafuto.  I wonder if Tsukishima has broke.   Helping Koito piss into a jar isn’t a fun job, but he’s at least keeping Ienaga at bay with no Kantarou to tie up.

2.) Nikaido is a one man military experiment.  Now he’s been given meth in addition to his prosthetic limbs.  It seems like no matter what will happen, his fate is a terrible one to have.  Perhaps with the death of his brother he really is a dead man walking and just doesn’t care anymore.

I wonder if this is a current critique on the opioid crisis in the industrialized world, or the fact that another way to control people is through big pharma?  Arisaka and Tsurumi already discussed morphine which Nikaido was previously addicted to and now they’ve switched him to meth.  I really honestly feel bad about his character - he really has become a means to an end.  I’m also not sure what is worse - his previous addiction to morphine or what will become his current addiction to meth. I’ve had friends that I’ve worked with use it or other friends have dealt with roommates using it.  It is a complicated situation - I can’t tell if this is just a quick toss in there concept or if it will become more fleshed out as the story develops.  A part of me would like to see this go further. 

A quick search reveals that meth addiction and use is a problem in present day Japan and the first epidemic started after WWII as it shifted from the military to civilian hands.  I wonder if some manga artists also have used meth or may have considered it based on their rough schedules.

https://www.japantimes.co.jp/life/2014/08/23/lifestyle/dealing-addiction-japans-drug-problem/#.XfmVU-t7l0I https://www.opendemocracy.net/en/japan-place-with-strangest-drug-debate-in-world/ http://www.mhfmjournal.com/pdf/emerging-risks-of-new-types-of-drug-addiction-in-japan.pdf

I am not the type of person to even remotely try to examine this as a whole, but having Golden Kamuy introduce a sensitive topic is par for the course by this point.

3.) Ogata is re-calibrating and being quite blunt and forward with Hijikata’s group.  He really isn’t trying to change very much in his interactions.  He is critical of the lack of concern by several people and flat out tells them to take Tsurumi seriously and to not underestimate him.  It looks like Hijikata seems to believe him to some extent.  I will say he tries to ease over relations by bringing home dinner.  I wonder if he is disappointed as Asirpa, Kiro and Shiraishi were a lot more thankful of his skills than this group.

4.) Ariko is in a tight spot.  God, it is like Tanigaki all over again.  What does Ariko know about Ogata? He clearly knows him from Kikuta - is he also someone who dislikes him based on what he knew about his past working for Tsurumi?  Ogata has to know that Ariko is a double agent for Tsurumi.  The question is will he even bother to warn the others or he just doesn’t care.

5.) There is a pirate convict!  Oh ho!  I look forward to this - it seems the pirate wants to form his own faction looking for the gold and must have been waiting to see how the hunt for the skins has gone.  A new faction would be very interesting?  Will he team up with others or go it alone with his crew?

Overall, this was a very informative chapter.  I felt like it had a good balance of information and action.  The Hijikata slumber party scene was quite hilarious.  I predict we will see more Ogata, silently watching those guys.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2019 - 28 (Afterlife)

Garrus realizes just what a certain word means and how it relates to him in particular after a rough night at Afterlife. Clearly, gay men are hardcore.

(Warning, a brief moment where you think there could be homophobia, but it goes away)

---

Garrus had often seen Omega when he was working. Never did he think he'd actually be inside the place as somebody gave its top boss the news someone was trying to take her out. Life was funny that way.

“I found on one of the mercs going after Archangel. Somebody doesn't like you.”

Shepard slid the datapad over with a careful prod, then returned to his normal sitting position. On most people, Garrus would have read that as trying to hide a hard on. However, the man didn't have the look in his eyes as he watched Aria T'Loak herself read it over. Then he got to watch her throw it at somebody. Her temper was indeed legendary – he almost felt bad for that poor batarian who was lucky to keep all four of his eyes.

Then she was back to looking at her guest. Most people would have killed – and had – to try to get that kind of attention. It wasn't sexual, just business, but still. Shepard had Aria freaking T'Loak all to himself for a second of her precious time.

Some might call him a lucky bastard.

“You've done a lot for me, Shepard. Let me return the favor.”

Well, shit – they weren't getting their commander back. Garrus shot the other part of the party, a large human named Bo Peep Shepard because the universe was fucking weird, the look that it was time to go. After all, it was about to get to get messy.

She didn't return it. Instead, Bo looked amused as the other Spectre in the room shook his head and stood. “You don't have to, just keeping Omega from exploding is enough.”

Aria let out a bored sound as she uncrossed her legs. “I meant supplies, Shepard. It's not that easy to get into my bed.”

“I know. You don't need to, we're fine.” Shepard's eyes were towards the door. “I should go, but thanks again.”

Garrus fell in behind him as they left the VIP area and returned to the heart of the club. Afterlife was famous on Omega, and it was easy to see why. Dancers kept the crowd entertained, and heavy music pumped through the speakers. It was a place that was hard to think, and harder to say no to. He had heard the stories while on planet.

And Shepard had just said no to Aria herself. They must have replaced his blood with ice water.

“I think she was coming on to you, Al.” Bo ribbed her commanding officer in the side. “Probably going to go cry in her pillow now that you turned her down.”

Shepard smiled briefly, but it was an awkward one. He was an awkward one. “I think she'll be just fine. I'm not exactly her type.”

Or was it the place wasn't his? Garrus kept an eye on Shepard as they maneuvered through the night club. Plenty of good looking woman with a thing for a man in uniform were giving him the eye, but he never paused to return it. Instead, he kept his eyes on the door.

Maybe he was embarrassed. After all... Shepard was awkward. Garrus knew that better than anyone thanks to their late night talks on the old Normandy. Even death couldn't beat that out of him. All that raw sexuality might just have been too much for the little guy, especially if a little bit of it was directed at him.

Oh well, there was always next time.

---

Garrus still felt like he needed a shower after the one he'd have as he stepped back into his jumpsuit in his little space in the battery. Even on a Cerberus created ship, this spot felt like his own. Free from prying eyes, he could just... calibrate.

And calibrating was good for frayed nerves.

He knew he was lucky to be alive, especially after everything that had happened on Omega. If Shepard hadn't been there... his talons tapped against the implants and scars that kept the right side of his face together. Definitely would've been dead.

Saved from the brink of death by a dead guy – that had to be a new one.

His thought process was distracted from a knocking by the door. Nobody... knocked on the battery door. Who did that kind of thing? It made him curious enough to step back as the door whooshed open, revealing the source of the odd noise.

“Hey.”

Shepard was out of armor too, now only wearing a ridiculously bright orange hooded sweatshirt and a pair of pants. He brushed some of his long hair behind one ear as the door closed behind him, closing them off together in the small space.

Apparently, Alliance commanding officers knock on the doors of their own ships?

Garrus  shot him a blank look. “Unless that changed, it's your ship.”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be an ass about it. Besides, you might have been naked in here and I don't think you'd want to show your carapaced ass to Cerberus.”

No. No he wouldn't have. Maybe he wouldn't complain about that after all.

Shepard took the room's only seat, sighing in relief as he sunk in. “Omega is gross. Took me two showers to feel human again.”

“I'm still working on feeling turian myself.” Garrus leaned against the main gun's housing, careful not to hit anything. “Any reason why you came down, Shepard? Did you want to check on my implants or something?”

After all, Shepard was a medic. If anyone knew if something was up, it be him. Had something been off during the fight? A thousand thoughts ran through the turian's mind as he tried to puzzle it out. Then that slowly turned into an anxiety – what had he missed that had worried the human so much?

Shit... was he going to be able to stick with him?

Shepard rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke. “Oh, no, I think they're ok, though I can check if you want.”

Relief washed over Garrus in waves. “Oh... then why come? Need tips on how to deal with woman after what happened with Aria? I don't know if I can help a human much.”

Ok, maybe the anxiety had led him to say that – but could anyone blame him? He'd thought something was permanently wrong with his implants. As the humans put it, though – the cat was out of the bag. Now he had to deal with whatever they had that facilitated keeping them in a sack to begin with. Maybe they spat acid?

Shepard, much to his surprise, started to chuckle. “Don't worry, I'm fine with that. Aria's not my type.”

He was smiling, but there was nothing friendly about the look he gave Garrus in that moment. Well, it was friendly... but a different type. If the turian didn't know better, he would've sworn that the human was … interested.

…

Garrus thought back to another night, one on the original Normandy. Shepard had joked once that there was nothing straight about him when prompted, though the joke had fallen flat. Straight, he knew, meant a certain thing to humans. And being around enough mercs told him the definition: only interested in a different sex.

So... he wasn't interested in women. Just...

Oh.

“You like men, don't you.”

Alistair's face went from pale to pink in about two seconds. “What?”

“You said there was nothing straight about you when we met. Aria's not your type because she looks like a woman to you-” Garrus was practically ticking it off his talons. “You only like men, then?”

It would... explain some looks, to say the least. Once in a while, back on the old Normandy, he had caught Shepard looking at Kaidan. It wasn't like the one he had seen moments before – never full, something almost sad about it. It was in his voice whenever he talked about the turian who had been on the Normandy before.

Or when he caught the man looking at him.

Shepard was still blushing as he looked away. “Yeah... I'm gay. Is that going to be a problem, Garrus?”

There was a note in his voice – almost a challenge. He might not have been looking, but he was ready to fight. Something about that Garrus could respect, even if he didn't quite understand it. Clearly, gay men were hardcore like that.

Was it?

…

Well, no. He couldn't exactly lie and say he didn't like the attention Shepard shot at him when they were alone. Something about it even... excited him in a way. But it was a hard road to cross between them, and not just because of species.

Still... he could still remember the man holding his damn face together, telling him he was going to be ok. Those hands had been so warm and comforting then. If there was a chance he could get to hold them again, well, that wouldn't be a bad thing.

“Garrus?”

Back to reality. The turian shook his head as he looked back at the Normandy's commanding officer. “Oh, no. No problems here. I suppose if there were I might be out the airlock right now?”

Shepard snorted as his shoulders relaxed. “I mean the thought has crossed my mind with some people, but no. You're good.”

He stood, and suddenly there wasn't much personal space between them. Garrus felt his heart race as the Spectre leaned in close, inspecting the right side of his face. He was so small that his head barely brushed against the turian's reconstructed jaw. Those blue eyes were focused on him again, studying him.

“Looks like your implants are doing just fine too. Don't get blown up again and they'll settle in just fine.”

Garrus barely heard it through the pounding of his heart. “Not exactly on my to-do list, no.”

“Good, it was hard enough putting you back together the first time.” Shepard patted him on the shoulder as he backed up. “Just wanted to check in on you is all. If you need me, you know where I am.”

The turian didn't answer as he watched the Normandy's commander make his way to the door. Their eyes met briefly when he turned back, and in them held the same charge. But then he was gone, off to wherever Spectres went when they weren't being confusing and making people's hearts beat faster.

Garrus was left in the battery, to linger on the thought of those eyes and what the little touches might mean. Gone were thoughts of calibrating. Instead, they focused hard on a redhead with bright blue eyes who death had taken once and returned back into his life with a literal bang.

Forget calibrating – he'd be lucky to remember how to breathe. Apparently, Shepard wasn't the only one with a preference for men – though that was definitely news to the turian.

Well, great. At least he was smart enough not to get it tattooed like SOME people on the Normandy.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Time in our Hands (2/?)

Summary: Temporal Detective First Class Aiden Gold has been working tirelessly to keep the timeline unaltered for as long as he can remember. He’s been chasing time bandit Lacey French for almost as long, but she always seems to slip through his fingers.

Until the day when his commanding officer tells him to bring Lacey in at all costs. The world itself is under threat, and Gold will need Lacey’s expertise to make sure that history happens as it should, and to prevent a catastrophe in the future…

Written for the A Monthly Rumbelling moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: T

=====

[One] [AO3]

=====

Time in our Hands

Two

Although Lacey had never intended to see the inside of the BTI headquarters, she couldn’t deny that it was extremely impressive, and all she had seen of it so far was the capsule bay. As she and Gold stepped out of the transporter, a technician ran over with an armful of tubes and cables and began plugging them in all around the door. An amber light began to flash above them, the words solar recharge spelled out in stark black lettering.

Gold had taken off at a brisk pace towards the capsule bay exit, but Lacey hung back a little, wanting to explore a little more and not knowing whether she would get the chance later.

She knew that something was up. It wasn’t just that Gold seemed more determined to catch her than he usually was, because tenacity appeared to be that man’s middle name and whilst she thoroughly enjoyed the game of cat and mouse that she’d been playing with him for years now, she certainly couldn’t afford to become complacent. There had been several near misses in the past, nearer than Lacey would ever like to admit, and she had to be wary. Gold kept her on her toes almost as much as she kept him on his.

No, it wasn’t just Gold that clued her in to something being wrong. Just before she’d set off on the excursion to Greece, her transport bracelet had been acting glitchy. Given the amount of personalisation that had gone into the thing in order to tailor it for her particular brand of work, she knew that whatever was happening, and whenever along the timeline it might be happening, it involved her personal time signature. Something devastating was happening, or had happened, or about to happen, and Lacey was involved in some way. Whether it was in the nominal present, the distant past, or the far future, she didn’t know, but she expected that the time cops, sorry, the Bureau of Temporal Investigation, would tell her soon. Lacey didn’t like glitches. She liked things to go as smoothly as possible.

“We haven’t got all day, Miss French,” Gold snapped from the exit. Lacey took a final look around at the name plates next to each of the capsules. A. Gold, TD 1st Class. J. Milliner, TD 1st Class. J. Rogers, TD 2nd Class. Fa M., TD 2nd Class.

“So, you’ve all got personal capsules then?” she asked, catching up to Gold as they left the capsule bay. It was one of a series of long banks of them, all showing designations for different departments and teams. “Lucky for some.”

Gold shrugged. “We can use any capsule available, but there’s recalibration involved. It’s like driving a car; when you get in someone else’s you have to adjust the seat and the headrest and the mirrors. In your own, that’s already set up.”

“Yeah, well, some of us only have these.” Lacey tapped her bracelet, still rendered null by the time lock cuff. It wasn’t uncomfortably tight on her wrist, but it was nonetheless obnoxiously present, and she knew that she wouldn’t be getting it off in a hurry. She tried not to panic. Ever since beginning her adventures through time, Lacey had never yet been in a situation that she couldn’t wink out of in a moment’s notice, and now she had willingly put herself into one.

They continued to walk through the headquarters, and Lacey was embarrassed to admit to herself just how fascinating she found the experience. There were people dressed in costumes from all over the world and all over the timeline; there didn't seem to be a single nation or era that was not represented. Everyone was bustling here and there and everywhere, and she wondered if they'd arrived in the middle of some kind of catastrophe. No-one seemed to be paying her and Gold any mind, which she thought interesting considering that she'd been wanted by the BTI for years now, and here she was, in a detective's custody.

Gold glanced back at her and gave a little smirk. "Don't worry. Half of these agents are working on the big crime family rings. You're small change in comparison. They probably don't even know your name."

Although by no means convinced of her own fame, Lacey was still a little bit put out to learn that her reputation did not precede her, especially when she'd spent so long building it up.

"You're infamous in my department though," Gold added. He waved her through a doorway marked Petty Temporal Displacement Investigations. Captain: C. Mallory.

"Well, I suppose that's something." Lacey came through the door. It was clear that this department wasn't as high-flying as the others that they'd walked through to get here. Gold peered around a partition in one corner of the bullpen, and out of curiosity, Lacey followed him. A young woman wearing outlandishly huge goggles was looking through a magnifying glass at something under a microscope. Nothing like getting a close-up. She was humming to herself, and it took Gold several attempts to get her attention.

"Tilly. Tilly!"

She jerked her head up and removed the goggles.

"Mr G, you're back!" She jumped up from her desk and threw her arms around Gold exuberantly. To Lacey's surprise, he accepted the hug without question. When Tilly finally released him, her eyes slid over to Lacey and widened before a huge grin spread over her face.

"Welcome to the Bureau," she said. "We've heard all about you."

Gold just rolled his eyes and handed her the safe that all Lacey's carefully and meticulously stolen loot was in. "There's an Aladdin's Cave of goodies for you and Margot to date and replace in there," he said. "Pick-up date's on the lid."

Tilly rushed back to her desk to get to work, and Lacey really wasn't quite sure what to make of the wink that the other woman gave her.

"Cap's in her office, Aiden," someone called as they came into the main bullpen. "Go straight in."

Gold paused at what was obviously his desk and emptied some detritus out of his suit pockets. Lacey felt a little awkward just hanging around, but at least it gave her time to look around. The man who'd hailed them was giving her an amused look. Apparently Gold hadn't been kidding when he'd talked about her infamy. Eventually he leaned over and held out a hand.

"Jefferson Milliner, Temporal Detective First Class, and may I say that it is an absolute honour to meet the woman who's been driving my esteemed colleague spare for the past few years. It really has been most entertaining to watch, so I must thank you for livening up my days."

He was completely in earnest, and Lacey couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It felt so strange to be here; she was out of her depth although she'd never dream of letting anyone know that. The technology that the Bureau used, even in Gold's little department here, was so much more advanced than the things she was used to working with. She was trying not to regret the decision to let Gold catch her, telling herself that she needed to find out what the glitch in her transporter was about before she could get back to work. That said, since she had just got herself arrested, she probably wasn't going to be allowed to get back to work any time soon. The one thing that kept her going was the thought that the Bureau needed her. Surely something could be worked out in terms of immunity, and if she was still being dealt with by the petty crimes unit, then it wasn't like her exploits were incredibly serious.

"Jeff, stop it," Gold muttered, before turning to Lacey. "Come on. Time to meet the Captain."

Although Lacey had never usually been scared of law enforcement agents before, she could say without a shadow of a doubt that if she was going to be scared of one of them, it would be Captain Cara Mallory. She was an imposing presence, perfectly at home in her domain, and Lacey received the distinct impression of a dragon watching over its hoard.

"Come in and sit down," she said as Gold and Lacey entered her office, looking up from the paperwork covering every inch of her desk and surveying her detective and his charge sagely.

"Miss French. You've certainly led us a merry dance over the years. I'm glad that you've decided to co-operate with us on this occasion." Despite the severe tone in her words, there was something in the captain's eyes that Lacey could tell was respect. Mallory knew that Lacey had made the choice to be taken in - no offence to Gold's efforts to capture her.

"What's going on, Mal?" Gold asked. Lacey raised an eyebrow. So, he didn't know why he'd had to bring her in any more than she knew why everything had started glitching. He'd played that close to his chest, and she had to hand it to him, she'd never have known that he wasn't entirely sure what was going on. Ever since he'd started chasing her back in Greece, Gold had exuded an air of confidence in his mission, even if it was an exasperated one.

"We have a delicate timeline situation on our hands," Mallory said. "I apologise for the secrecy but when something of this calibre occurs, information is on a need to know basis to preserve the timeline as far as we can."

"I think we need to know now, Mal."

The captain opened her desk drawer and took out a small, dirty metal disk. "I take it you recognise this, Gold?"

Closer inspection showed it to be a pocket-watch, rather worse for wear, the glass across its face cracked and its hands stopped. Sure, it had been through the wars a bit, but Lacey couldn't see anything special about it. Glancing over at Gold, she saw that his reaction was far more extreme. He'd gone very pale, and his hands were shaking as he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and took out an identical - although clean and still ticking - pocket-watch.

"This is impossible," he muttered.

"You know what this means, of course."

Gold nodded, and Lacey raised her hand.

"Excuse the dumb time bandit in the corner, but what does this mean?"

Gold placed the two watches on the desk and slid them across to Lacey. "The same object cannot exist twice in the same time. If it does, like this one does, it means a time loop has been created."

"Ok, even I know that time loops are bad news." Time was meant to move forward in a linear direction, but with all the travel backwards and forwards that went on, sometimes it managed to loop itself around. Lacey picked up the two watches, comparing them closely. The serial numbers on the back were the same; it was indeed the same object existing twice in the same time.

"Time loops are the Bureau's worst nightmare," Mallory said, her voice chillingly matter of fact. "Once we discover one, we have to make sure it follows through to its conclusion or else we end up with a separate timeline. So far, we have managed to avoid such a catastrophe and all our loops have been resolved with the minimum of disruption." She turned her piercing eyes on Lacey. "This is where you come in, Miss French." She took the damaged watch back, and Gold tucked his clean one back into his jacket.

"Before we get into that," Gold began, "would you mind telling me just how you ended up with my emergency time-out transport, which definitely looks like it's been used in an emergency?"

"It, and the person carrying it, who was not you, before you ask, we don't have two of you running around the Bureau, landed in my office approximately six real-time hours ago." Mallory carefully opened the shattered casing around the watch and pointed out the numbers below the twisted hands. "This is the date and place on which it was used."

The numbers just about managed to read 10,006 BCE, and some shaky co-ordinates.

Gold swore under his breath. "Bloody hell, Mal, that's the Fall of Atlantis."

Lacey's heart leaped to her mouth and began beating painfully there. Atlantis was time-locked legend, with most bandits not even believing that it existed. Lacey had wanted to get there and have a snoop around ever since she'd bartered for her first transport bracelet and begun her travels along the timeline, but it was the one place that she could never seem to land in. She'd almost given up hoping for it, and now Gold and Mallory were talking about it as if it was a perfectly normal, everyday place.

"Come with me." Mal stood and began to lead the way out of her office. "We don't know how much time we have before the loop becomes unstable. I already have the lockout crew working on a window to send you back to Atlantis, and you'll need to go as soon as it's open."

Overwhelmed with all the information that she'd been given over the last few minutes, as well as by the overarching knowledge that she was going to Atlantis, every self-respecting time bandit's dream, Lacey followed on after the two detectives as they moved through the Bureau towards what revealed itself as the medical bay. They stopped outside a room where a young woman was lying comatose.

"The DNA daters have confirmed her identity as Princess Kida of Atlantis," Mallory said. "She arrived here via the emergency time-out six hours ago and told me that I needed to send you two back to the Fall to find her there as soon as I could. Apparently, the fate of the world is at stake. She couldn't say very much before she passed out from the time lag, but there was something about rescuing an artefact that was crucial to prevent the apocalypse."

Lacey gulped. Closing a time loop and stopping Armageddon. No pressure for a petty thief, then.