#I took a interior design and modeling class once

[pawnshopbleus]

Miller's Girl

Chapter Two - Professor Miller

Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!College Student!Reader Very Loosely based off of the new movie, Miller's Girl, starring Jenna Ortega and Martin Freeman

Summary - Your landlord decides to raise the rent in your studio apartment the day you are fired from your job. In need of money, you sign up for a babysitting service your friend suggested. You didn’t expect to get an offer so quickly, and you also didn’t expect to come from your professor.

Series contains - cursing, mature language, teacher x student relationship, age gap, smut, fluff, angst, non beta read chapters and everything else I forgot to mention

Authors Note - Sorry for the late update. My mom took my computer away and I physically cannot write on my phone.

College, no outbreak, and modern AU

Joel had been looking for a new babysitter ever since the last one had left. She was an older lady who had lost her husband in the Vietnam War. Joel respected her until she quit unexpectedly the Saturday evening before Joel had a big dinner with the president of the university. He had to beg Tommy and Maria to watch Sarah for the night.

You were the first person that caught his eye on the website. Your experience was subpar and your bio was brief but it contained just enough detail to get him interested. When he scrolled to see what else you did outside of babysitting, his smile fell from his face. You were a student and not just any student. You were a student at the university he taught at. He didn’t want to risk his employment for a simple babysitter so he kept scrolling. Each profile after yours looked plain and simple, something he didn’t like. No one seemed qualified enough to take care of his beloved Sarah except you.

His email to you was like your bio, brief but it contained just enough detail. He signed his name at the bottom and prayed that his position didn’t scare you away. He needed you to agree to this. You were perfect for the job. You were young and could connect with Sarah more than the last babysitter did. Judging from your bio, you were also smart. You seemed like a great role model for Sarah.

Your response came an hour later. Joel chewed on his bottom lip in anticipation of what the email would say. He let out a sigh of relief when you agreed to become Sarah’s babysitter.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

One word that you would use to describe yourself would be unlucky. You were sure that whoever worked high up in the sky had it out for you.

Your counselor called you into his office early Saturday morning to discuss your future after college. You told him that you hoped to become an interior designer once you graduate. He then asked why you didn’t major in interior design instead of architecture. You then told him that he should have asked you this when you were a freshman. You could tell that your counselor wanted to roll his eyes but he kept his composure. He clicked and scrolled away on his computer while you sat there in silence.

“You’re ten credits under the required amount to graduate,” your counselor said.

“What?” The scream you let out contrasted the monotone voice your counselor spoke in.

Your counselor let out a breath through his nose. “Look, you can either graduate next year or you can take another required class for your major.”

“But I thought that I completed all the required classes for my major? It’s the middle of the first semester and I’m pretty sure all the classes are full.”

“There’s one class open with two seats left. I can put you in that class and you’ll start on Monday. You’ll have to catch up on work but i’m pretty sure you’ll be fine.” Your counselor looks you up and down and continues, “You don’t seem like the type to get out much.”

Your left eye twitched at the comment. It was true, but he had no right to say that. You could report him to his superiors but that would be too much paperwork.

“Who teaches the class?” you asked. You hoped that at least the teacher was nice. Maybe they would be a little bit nicer than the asshole in charge of your future at this school.

“Professor Miller.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Mondays were never Joel’s favorite time of the week. Sarah had soccer on Mondays and Fridays which meant that he had to get up extra early to pack her bags. The last time she packed her own bag, she forgot her ball and her cleats. When the babysitter starts everything will be a lot easier for him.

A new student has just been added to his roster. Never in his twenty-five years of teaching has a student been added to his class in the middle of the semester. Just another paper to read and another packet of homework to grade. This is exactly what he needed! It’s not like he didn’t have a twelve-year-old daughter to raise all by himself.

The campus is stunningly beautiful in the mornings. The sun shines on the trees and grass, illuminating the green blades and leaves. The school spends a lot of money on its campus. They pride themselves on having one of the prettiest campuses in all of Texas.

Joel’s lecture room isn’t too far from where he parked. It’s nice outside. The October breeze sweeps his hair back and he has to smooth it down with his hands. The brown messenger bag slung around his shoulders dangles and hits against his outer thigh as he walks. Contrary to popular belief, Joel isn’t mean or rude. He’s just a simple man who prefers to have a little privacy once in a while. He is also tough on his students because he wants them to succeed. Professors who are “easy” get on his nerves. They crave the respect of their students rather than earning it. Joel has worked too damn long and hard to care about what his students think about him.

His lecture room is cold. Not the usual sixty degrees he likes to keep it at, but more like a chilly forty degrees. He can see his breath flow out in front of him like a ghost. He knows that his students hate being in a cold classroom, but none of them are brave enough to tell him what to do.

Students start pouring in and sitting in their usual seats. They can immediately tell the temperature difference. They hug their arms closer and rock their bodies, trying to preserve warmth.

The small hand of the clock hovers over the number nine and Joel walks over to the door getting ready to lock it. Just as his hand hovers over the knob, the door is thrown open and Joel stumbles back.

You enter the classroom, eyes wide. You look around at the vast array of students already sitting down in their seats. They all look at you with a look of horror. You don’t understand why they are looking at you like that until you turn around.

Professor Miller is standing at his full height, his arms are crossed, and he looks like he’s about to explode with anger. Then, he sees your face and realizes who you are. He must have recognized you from the website because his shoulders relax and he nods his head to the sea of students, prompting you to sit down.

The only seat open is in the back of the room. You walk through the sea of students all looking at you. Some look at you with a look of sympathy while others look at you with disgust.

You make yourself as small as possible when you reach your seat. Once you reach inside your bag, you realize that you have forgotten your laptop on your bed. No wonder your bag felt lighter today than it usually does.

You pull a pen and paper out of your bag and begin scribbling as much information as you can. Your usual neat handwriting looks more like chicken scratch as you try and copy down information thrown at you by Professor Miller. It would have been a lot easier if he talked a little slower.

Two hours have flown by and students practically skip out of the class, happy to escape the cold. Thanks to your seat being in the back, you were one of the last people to get to the door. Before you can exit, Professor Miller stands in front of you, his arms crossed once again.

“This was strike number one,” he said. You gulped and opened your mouth to explain yourself, but he put his hand up. Your mouth closed shut and you nodded your head.

The rest of the day, you walked with your head held low. It wasn’t until you got back to your apartment that you finally felt better. Being home meant that there wouldn’t be anyone there to judge you or give you dirty looks.

You flopped onto your bed. Bill went up in the air and fell back down onto the bed. Bill could sense your distress, so he curled up next you and the two of you fell asleep.

[eazy-group]

The Best Camping Coolers of 2023

New Post has been published on https://eazycamping.net/the-best-camping-coolers-of-2023/

The Best Camping Coolers of 2023

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Published Aug 18, 2022 9:00 AM

If you’re heading off grid for a few days or a few weeks, a quality camping cooler is an essential addition to your gear list. Whereas a styrofoam imposter will leave your food soaked in a lukewarm puddle in short order, forcing a return to town or even the end of your trip, a quality cooler will keep your perishables properly chilled for days on end. To help you find the best camping coolers for any camping adventure, I called in the latest models from the top manufacturers to see which would come out on top in a series of tests. 

*Manufacturer-provided volume / tester-measured volume.

Why It Made the Cut

The RollR came out on top in the ice retention test, is easy to maneuver, and has some additional features (like a bike attachment) that will be of special interest to the most adventurous campers. 

Key Features

Capacity: 60 quarts (claimed), 52 (measured); 45-quart and 80-quart capacity also available

Dimensions: 26.5 x 20 x 21 inches (exterior); 19.5 x 10.5 x 12 inches (interior)

Weight: 49.5 pounds

IGBC-certified (bear-proof locks sold separately) 

Pros

Best-in-class ice retention

Wheels make it easily portable

Excellent drainage

Cons

Expensive compared to others in our test

Poor interior volume to exterior volume ratio; interior volume does not match manufacturer-provided measurements of the interior

Product Description

The RovR RollR was easily the flashiest cooler in my test, with bulky 9-inch wheels, a roller handle, and a convenient pop-top storage bin. But don’t let all the extras fool you: This cooler performed exceptionally in my ice retention test. It took almost two days for a single bag of ice to melt.

The extras in this cooler should be especially appealing to anyone planning to travel into more rugged terrain. The 9-inch diameter wheels made this easier to pull over rooty trails (even given its hefty 50-pound weight). The sitting pad on top of the cooler can also be converted to a stash bin for all the extras you want to transport to your destination. For campers heading farther afield, there’s even an attachment (sold separately) to attach the cooler to your bike.

One unique feature of this cooler is the interior design: The wheels create a step-down shelf on the far side. At first glance, you might think the odd dimensions would make it difficult to pack food efficiently, but its utility becomes clear as the ice starts to melt: the meltwater drips down into the pocket, where it’s easily siphoned off using the drainage port. This helps to keep your food from getting soggy in a pool of melted ice water. A handy vertical basket (provided with the cooler) can be used to store food on the drainage end of the cooler without immersing your perishables, and helps to create a barrier to stop the rest of your food from sliding over. Though unusual, it’s a well-thought-out design. 

The biggest drawback to the RovR RollR is the price. It was the most expensive option at the time of testing, which was especially noticeable since its volume when measured out was less than the claimed 60 quarts. Some users may also find the rubber latches somewhat difficult to manage—it took some elbow grease for me to pull them down and up while checking the ice during testing. The drainage similarly caused some issues at first, with ice water leaking out onto the floor, but once I cranked it down the leakage stopped—my takeaway is that straight out of the box the drainage port simply isn’t closed all the way. 

All in all, if you’re willing to spend extra to upgrade your camping experience, this is an excellent choice. 

Why It Made the Cut

This mid-sized cooler came in second for ice retention, and is the perfect size for anyone looking to hit the road in a smaller car for days at a time. 

Key Features

Capacity: 30 quarts 

Dimensions: 21.5 x 18.5 x 15.5  inches (exterior); 13 x 11 x 12 inches (interior)

Weight: 13.6 pounds

Not IGBC-certified

Pros

Inexpensive

Streamlined design works well for smaller cars

Cons

May not have enough storage space for longer adventures

Product Description

For campers (like me) that have a sedan as their primary vehicle, a three-foot long cooler capable of storing enough of the best camping meals for a family of six for a week is frankly overkill. A family of four would find the Stanley Adventure Cold for Days is the perfect size for a weekend trip with plenty of room to stash snacks for the kids and adult beverages for the parents. Two people would have plenty of room for a longer getaway. 

This cooler held its own during the ice retention test, coming in second overall. This is especially impressive as the Stanley Adventure for Days Cooler was one of the few in my test that wasn’t rotomolded (considered by many to be an industry standard in the best camping coolers). In addition, it had several features that I appreciated, including a fairly simple click latching system (no difficulty in managing the rubber latches here). I also liked that the drainage port cap was connected to the rest of the cooler, making it harder for forgetful campers (i.e., me) to lose it over the long haul. 

But perhaps the biggest draw of this cooler is its significantly lower price point, a third the cost of the highest-priced cooler in my test (although, given its smaller size, not the best budget pick). If you’re just getting started camping with your friends or significant other, then this is an excellent choice that will last you for years. 

Why It Made the Cut

The YETI not only performed third best of the coolers I tested for ice retention, it was also a breeze to use thanks to a telescopic handle, durable wheels, a simple latching mechanism, and a quality drain plug.

Key Features

Capacity: 48 quarts (20-quart and 60-quart capacity also available)

Dimensions: 20 x 20 x 20.5 inches (exterior); 14.5 x 11.5 x 15.5 inches (interior)

Weight: 25.8 pounds

Not IGBC-certified

Pros

Good ice retention

Easy to move around

Excellent latching mechanism and drainage ports

Cons

Product Description

One of the biggest drags of any high quality cooler is having to move it around. No matter how advanced your technique (lift from the legs, not from the back), it’s still awkward and uncomfortable. The YETI Wheeled Roadie at first glance looks more like a roller-bag than a typical cooler, and fortunately for you, it’s maneuverability is much more akin to the former. A telescopic handle (the only cooler in my test with this feature) pops up from the top of the cooler and lifts up to an impressive 3.5 feet—high enough for even the tallest campers to grab comfortably. Shorter users have the option to adjust the height down to a more comfortable level. One upgrade here is that the wheels on the YETI Roadie are (thankfully) significantly larger and more durable than those on your suitcase. While checking ice retention, leaks and functionality, this was one of the few coolers that this 5-foot 5-inch tester didn’t dread having to maneuver around. 

This was also one of the few coolers in my test to survive two nights of the ice retention test (and would have obviously lasted a lot longer if I had filled it to the brim with ice). Also notable was its simple snap-latch design, which was significantly easier to use than the rubber latches I tested on the other coolers. The drainage port is also waterproof and requires very little torque to operate. 

The YETI comes with a basket that sits up top (for your butter, cheese, and other goods that are prone to waterlogging), but can accommodate a second one as well as a divider—useful for storing food at different temperatures. YETI also has a helpful guide on how to pack your ice chest for peak efficiency. If your number one priority in your camping cooler is ease of use, then this is the choice for you.  

Best Value: RTIC Hard Cooler

Why It Made the Cut

Not only did the RTIC, the largest cooler in my test, last over twenty-four hours, it also did the best job of any cooler I looked at of maximizing interior space. 

Key Features

Capacity: 65 quarts (45-quart capacity also available)

Dimensions: 32 x 17 x 18.5 inches (exterior); 26 x 12 x 13 inches (interior)

Weight: 36 pounds

Not IGBC-certified

Pros

Affordable price

Large volume works well for larger groups

Best interior volume to exterior volume in my test

Cons

No tray insert

Wide size makes it difficult for one person to move

Product Description

If all you’re looking for is a giant box to keep your provisions chilled—no bells, whistles, or wheels—then the RTIC Hard Cooler is the right choice for you. It’s a classic rectangular design, which maximizes interior space and uses a simple pair of rubber T-latches with rope and foam handles to haul to your preferred camping location. The longer length of this cooler (almost 3 feet), means that this one will be difficult to haul by yourself, so plan to ask your partner or a friend for help. Like most hard coolers in this category, the RTIC 65 QT Hard Cooler is rotomolded.

While I wish this cooler came with a bin to store the softer provisions you want to keep out of cooler water, RTIC does sell cooler baskets separately on their website (at the time of this review, however, the 65 quart size was not available). They also have dividers (useful if you are bringing food on a trip that you’d rather not have exposed directly to the ice) and a seat cushion for those that like to use their cooler as an impromptu bench. 

While the RTIC Hard Cooler performed in the bottom half of testing, it still held ice for an impressive amount of time, long enough for all but the gnarliest camping trips in the hottest climates. I was also impressed by its interior volume to exterior volume ratio, the highest in my test, which helps to make up for some of the loss of insulation. If getting a large cooler at a great price is your top priority, then this cooler is an excellent value.

Best Water Resistance: ORCA Cooler

Why It Made the Cut

No matter which side I turned the ORCA Cooler on, only a drop or two of water managed to escape the seams of the lid. 

Key Features

Capacity: 58 quarts; 20-quart, 26-quart, 40-quart, and 140-quart capacity also available

Dimensions: 27 x 19.5 x 19.5 inches (exterior); 20 x 13.5 x 13 inches (interior)

Weight: 36 pounds

IGBC-certified (locks sold separately) 

Pros

Extremely water-resistant

Widest variety of sizes available of any cooler in my test

Cons

Product Description

When I first unboxed the ORCA Hard Cooler, I thought there was something wrong with it. No matter how hard I pried at the lid after unhooking the two rubber latches, I couldn’t get it open. Was I going to have to leave this cooler out of my test due to lack of upper body strength? As a last ditch effort, I unscrewed the drainage port: there was an immediate hiss of air, followed by the popping sound of the cooler walls releasing. To say that the amount of pressure this cooler is capable of holding is impressive is an understatement.  

Even when filled with room temperature water, this cooler is quite water resistant. During my test for waterproofness, the sides and the back held the water completely in, and only a small dribble escaped the front. However, when the cooler is filled with ice (and hasn’t been opened in a while), the cooler becomes entirely waterproof. The pressure inside the cooler creates a seal similar (if, fortunately, less intense) to when I first unboxed the cooler.

The only downside to this extremely effective water-resistance is that the latches are surprisingly difficult to use, requiring more than some effort to secure. If you’re camping with children (who might not have the strength or patience to operate this cooler correctly), then another choice might be better. However, if you plan to use your cooler on a boat in addition to camping, then this one is a no-brainer, in addition to these coolers for fishing. 

Why It Made the Cut

This simple cooler from Dometic had middle-of-the-pack ice retention capabilities at half the cost of my best overall pick.

Key Features

Capacity: 55 quarts (20-quart, 35-quart, and 105-quart capacity also available)

Dimensions: 30 x 19 x 10 inches (exterior); 22.5 x 11 x 13.5 inches (interior)

Weight: 33 pounds

Not IGBC-certified

Pros

Great value

Easy to use latch

Cons

Product Description 

The Dometic Patrol shared many of the qualities of the RTIC Hard Cooler: a simple design paired with effective ice retention. But while the exterior-to-interior size ratio was not quite as impressive with this cooler as it was with the RTIC, I was impressed at what it accomplished at its price point, almost half of the most expensive coolers in my test. Given Dometic’s earned reputation for producing high-end and high-tech overlanding gear, the affordability and simplicity of this quality camping cooler was a pleasant surprise. 

The basket provided by the Dometic was also one of the largest in my test, capable of holding all your sensitive perishables and then some above the inevitable melting slurry. If you’re looking to upgrade your cooler without spending your entire camping budget on one piece of gear then this is a smart pick. 

Things to Consider Before Buying Camping Coolers

Size

During testing, very little correlation was noted between the size of a cooler and the amount of time it took for a bag of ice to melt: at this level of performance, it was all about the quality of the cooler itself. So if space is not an issue for you, choose the largest cooler that you think you’ll need. If space can be an issue when you travel, it may make sense to pair a larger camping cooler with one of the best small coolers on the market, to maximize their versatility. 

IGBC Certification

If you plan to leave your cooler outside your car in either black bear or grizzly bear country, it’s essential that you choose a cooler that has been certified by the Interagency Grizzly Bear Committee (IGBC). The committee works in coordination with the Grizzly & Wolf Discovery Center to test bear canisters, coolers, and trash cans using live bears to certify those that are bear resistant. If you plan to leave an IGBC-certified cooler outdoors, either overnight or while you are off on a day hike, it’s essential that you lock the cooler—the rubber latches are not designed to hold off a bear alone. 

Latching System

I was surprised at the amount of variation in the latching systems among the coolers that I tested. Some, like the OtterBox Venture, were a breeze to use, while others needed a surprising amount of muscle to get into place. A difficult-to-use latching mechanism is unlikely to make a difference to any unwanted diners (like bears) breaking into your food stash (you’ll need a set of bear locks for that). Plus, I couldn’t see any correlation between a trickier latching system and better ice retention. Instead, the best camping coolers have an easy-to-use latching system that ensures you consistently and properly close your cooler. That results in optimal chilling.

FAQs

Q: How much do camping coolers cost?

While the styrofoam coolers from the store only cost a couple dollars, a high-end camping cooler that will last for years (and cause a heck of a lot less damage to the environment) typically ranges from $200 to $500. 

Q: How do I know what size cooler I need?

For a quality camping cooler, including those tested in this roundup, it’s better to go too big than too small. A larger size will still hold even a single bag of ice for a long time—you don’t need to pack it in to maximize the amount of time it will last (unless you are planning to store perishables for, say, a two week stretch). The main limitation will be the size of your vehicle. In those instances, I recommend going with the best cooler for small cars: the Stanley Adventure Cold for Days. 

Q: How long do camping coolers stay cold?

There are three factors that affect how long a camping cooler will stay cold: the amount of ice (or cooler packs) stored inside of it, the quality of its insulation, and the ambient temperature outside of the cooler. Any of the coolers in this test will keep your perishables cold for a long weekend, while the RovR RollR and the YETI Wheeled Roadie have both the quart capacity and insulation bonafides to keep your goods chilled for a week or more given sufficient ice.

Final Thoughts

After testing the best camping coolers from the most respected brands, I’m confident that the RovR RollR is the best choice for adventurous families. The Stanley Adventure Cold for Days is an excellent low-cost pick that will serve couples well, and the RTIC cooler provides excellent value for anyone who wants to maximize their cooler space. When choosing a cooler, consider what size you are likely to need, the importance of long-term ice retention, and the relative importance of a top-notch cooler in your overall camping budget. 

Methodology

The basis for my test of the top camp coolers was ice retention. To ensure as level a playing field as possible, I put one bag of store-bought ice into each of the seven coolers at the same time and then kept them in the same room. Whenever I checked the ice in one cooler to see if it had melted, I checked it in all of them. Next, I checked how watertight each cooler was, including at the drainage port and around the lid, by filling the cooler with water and then tipping it in a variety of directions. I also screwed and unscrewed the drainage ports multiple times to get a feel for how waterproof (or lack thereof) each was. (Unloading your car only to find a puddle underneath your tent or sleeping bags is not an experience anyone wants.) Finally, I looked at how difficult each latching system was to operate. 

While I appreciated the Otterbox Venture’s handles and simple latching mechanism, these features did not stand out compared to others in the test, and it fared the worst during the ice retention test, not quite lasting 24 hours, despite its comparatively bulky insulation. 

I also considered the accessories provided with each cooler, how easy it was to transport or move, and the overall cost. Recommendations also took into account the size of each cooler, how easy they were to open and close, and how easy each cooler would be to fit inside of a typical car camping (not overlanding or RV) vehicle.

[moonverc3x]

Does J have a house or a place to stay at??? Because I have funny idea and it has something to do with this.

Indeed she does!! I made a 3D model of it to help me with drawing rooms and stuff!

here is the floorplan, and if you're comfortable, dm me your email and I can send the 3D model to you! (anyone can ask if you want it--)

[duskydestra]

Golden Hour

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Relationships: Kugisaki Nobara/Zenin Maki, Kugisaki Nobara & Hoshi Kirara

Characters: Kugisaki Nobara, Zenin Maki, Hoshi Kirara

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags: Vampires, Getting Together, Canon-Typical Hijinks, College AU, No Curses AU, First Kiss

Summary: By day, Nobara's a part-time model. By night, she studies at a design school.

When she invites her crush to a Halloween party, what happens when she gets more than she bargained for?

(Or: Nobara girlbosses a bit too close to the moon.)

If you'd rather read on AO3, click here.

Nobara tilted her head up, letting sunlight run along the side of her face. This late into fall, there wasn’t much warmth to accompany it. Unfortunately, today’s shoot was for an athleisure line, and the material wasn’t the thickest. She held down a shiver as she heard the rapid-fire clicks of a burst shot. Their 30 minutes were nearly up, and Kirara always made the most of it.

“Alright. You’re done for the day. Great job!” Kirara gave a thumbs up from behind the camera.

Nobara hopped off the brick wall. Leaves crunched beneath her sneakers as she ran over to see the results. She admired Kirara’s range, which was why she requested the modeling agency pair them together. Their candid shots were the most natural Nobara’s ever taken, and they had an eye for poses that suit her resting position.

Out of today’s photo batch, there were two clear winners. The first, a lovely candid they took while she was people watching; the contemplative sparkle in her eye was merely Nobara wondering where a girl across the street had gotten her windbreaker. In the second, she was posed on the wall lining the park with one leg folded under her. She balanced one hand on her knee while she leaned on the other behind her, angled in a way to casually show the brand’s logo.

Nobara pointed them out on the screen. “Send me these.”

Kirara added an orange flair to the previews. “Got it.”

Nobara threw on her backpack and darted into the nearest restroom. There, she changed into a comfy cream sweater and brown pants. Stepping back out into the brisk air, she felt much warmer than before.

Reluctantly, she held out the set of branded clothing to Kirara.

“Can I keep them this time?” she teased.

Kirara snorted. “That’s not up to me. And if it was, it’d be something more insulated.”

Nobara grimaced. “Was it that obvious?”

“Only to me. And that’s ‘cause it’s my job to notice these things. I’ll have to erase the goosebumps later, but that’s it.” They cracked a smile and put the camera away. “You don’t make me work too hard, though. Everything else is perfect.”

“How could it not be?” Nobara asked, striking one final pose.

Kirara laughed, knowing it was rhetorical.

As the sun sank below the horizon, Nobara claimed her spot on the subway. The park was two stops from campus—just long enough to mentally prepare herself for the toll of night school.

Interior design was a breeze. It helped that it was a solid discipline to pair with her modeling career. However, that sense of easy accomplishment dimmed on the way to her architecture class. At the risk of failing, she’d come up with three reasons to see it through:

In order to round out her credits for the year, it was a necessary addition.

Once she could afford her dream home, she’d be able to lay out exactly how it should be built.

She shared a table with an especially pretty girl, so skipping wasn’t an option.

She greeted Maki as she took her seat, who returned it pleasantly.

“Be honest,” Maki said. “How’d I do today?”

Nobara sat back and got a full view of Maki. Today, her glasses were a different shape. The roundness of the frames played well with the sharpness of her other features. She wore a classic, dark green flannel with a matching undershirt. The legs of her pants were tucked into a pair of steel-toe boots.

Under her guidance, Maki had come a long way from leg warmers. Ever since Nobara recognized green as one of Maki’s best colors, it’s been a joy to see her work it into her wardrobe.

Nobara hummed in approval. “Simple. Nice. I love what you did with the glasses. Feels like I get to see more of your face.”

Maki pushed the frames up the bridge of her nose, trapping a grin behind her hand. The urge to move her arm out of the way tugged at the back of Nobara’s mind. Thankfully, Maki dropped her hand, allowing Nobara to appreciate that smile for a few more seconds.

“Thanks.” Maki cleared her throat, and a familiar eagerness settled over her. “Any favorites today?”

Nobara swallowed the other compliments that had rushed to the tip of her tongue, resolving to say them later. She dug her phone out of her pocket and pulled up the photos from Kirara.

Maki leaned in, eyes wide and gleaming. In the face of such open admiration, warmth swelled in Nobara’s chest.

It was more than enough to fend off the night’s chill when she caught the late train to her apartment. The memory of Maki’s smile fixed itself at the top of her mind as she went about her night routine and settled into bed.

~~~

Mercifully, there was no class the next day. With no need to rush, she luxuriated in her skin routine, pausing to admire how soft her face was to the touch. After a light breakfast, she used the morning to clear the pile of homework and discussion board posts.

By late afternoon, she arrived at the park ready to work and excitedly picked up her assignment from Kirara. Nobara peered into the bag, spotting a houndstooth coat and the solid base. She squinted in obvious confusion.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s what they gave me,” Kirara said, hesitant. “Maybe we can make it work?”

The style only felt more out of place once Nobara had changed into it. Despite that, she did her damnedest to take Kirara’s direction. At some points, the camera flick was near constant. At others, Kirara let as many seconds pass as needed so they could capture the best shot.

When they called her over to see how it all turned out, she braced herself. She looked good, but that was a given. While this collection could fit alongside any photoset, nothing about the look itself stood out to her. And why settle for good when she was capable of excellence?

She looked up to see Kirara’s mouth twisted to the side.

“You don’t like it, either, huh? I always thought houndstooth belonged more to winter than fall.”

“Right,” Kirara said. “Making us shoot stuff out of season doesn’t do them any favors. They didn’t wanna provide a substitute, but I’m sure they will when I show these to them.”

“Can you blur my face before you do? This is embarrassing.”

“How about I just crop it so you don’t look like you’re in witness protection?”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

She ducked into her usual shop to change—very glad to be back in the season’s latest—and handed the assignment back to Kirara.

“Can-”

“No, you can’t keep them.”

Nobara huffed. “I’d have given it a good home.”

At the very least, she’d have worn it when it was meant to be worn.

“I don’t doubt it, but I’ll be surprised if they don’t cancel their contract instead. You can have this, though.”

Kirara pulled an orange flyer out of their camera bag. Basic clip art of pumpkins and bats decorated the page. Heavy black letters declared this an invite to a Halloween party. It’d take place at a different university’s civic center. Costumes were mandatory.

“I’m working that night and can’t afford to double book,” Kirara said. “But at least one of us should get to go.”

Nobara slid the flyer into her backpack.

Outside the campus library, Nobara took out a compact mirror. She ran a hand over her hair to smooth out her bob. Even though she was on the verge of failing ARCH 1101, it presented the best silver lining: a weekly study session with Maki.

Nobara weaved through the visitors to reach her table. It didn’t have her name on it, but she’d put a pink heart sticker at the center of it and that was close enough. Tucked away in the corner, Maki looked up from her notes when Nobara took a seat.

No matter how late in the night they met, Maki always had a glow about her. The ceiling lights were unforgiving, but Nobara was hard-pressed to spot a flaw in her face. Other students shuffled about the library with hunched shoulders and dark circles under their eyes—but not Maki. She was such a welcome sight, even without the comparison. 

“Hey,” Maki said warmly. “Do you have any favorites to show off?”

“Nah.”

Maki’s face fell slightly. She made a noise of understanding, but it was enough to make Nobara wish she'd kept a photo for her.

“That’s alright,” Maki said. “We should be studying, anyway.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Still having problems with blueprints?”

“I hate them. Too many damn symbols.”

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nobara groaned. “This is your major, not mine.”

“Stop whining. It just takes practice.”

Maki attached an empty sheet of graph paper to her clipboard and pushed it across the table, watching Nobara take out a mechanical pencil. She stood, briefly towering over Nobara (much to Nobara’s delight), and jerked her head toward an open section of the library.

“Come on, then.”

They strolled around the perimeter, pausing for Nobara to sketch the symbols of each furnishing they passed. Some were straightforward, but many were too similar to each other.

At the staircase, Maki peered over Nobara’s shoulder.

“Almost” was her only hint.

Nobara moved her pencil about the page as she wondered what was wrong. Eventually, she erased the direction arrow on the stairs and drew it in the opposite direction. She looked up at Maki for confirmation, who nodded in assent.

The first page was filled with as many bold lines as eraser marks. She didn’t expect much improvement on the second floor, but flipped the sheet over anyway to start again.

Upstairs was home to the reference section, and she’d never been so grateful to see giant bookshelves and uniform lights. Easy to sketch, less room to mess up. As she moved down one row, her shoulder nicked a shelf. Without thinking, Nobara slapped the shelf back. It wasn’t until she heard the awful creaking of wood that she looked up from her task.

The shelf tipped forward and books from the top row began to pelt the ground. Nobara raised her arms in an effort to protect her face. She braced for the impact of several hardcovers, but only heard them rain down around her. She cracked one eye open to see Maki with her back against the shelf, arms outstretched to hold it back.

There wasn’t a bead of sweat on Maki’s forehead and barely a line of tension between her brows.

Nobara was rooted in place, marveling at this display of strength. The shelf had to be at least ten feet tall, to say nothing of the weight of the books on the other side.

“Whoa,” Nobara breathed.

Maki shook her fringe out of her eyes and looked down at Nobara. “Are you okay?”

“I…Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Maki pushed the shelf back into position.

“You must work out,” Nobara blurted.

Maki was silent for a beat longer than expected, eventually offering a simple “Yes.”

Nobara hummed. Maybe that came with the territory for construction majors. Or Maki just took it more seriously than most.

As they each grabbed a ladder and got work replacing the books, Maki turned to Nobara with a questioning look. 

“Why did you slap the bookshelf?”

“It hit me first.”

Maki rolled her eyes. “I bet it’s the curb that hits your car, too.”

“Obviously. That’s why I take the train now.” Nobara grinned up at her. “But thanks for saving me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just be careful next time.”

“Of course. Starting now.”

Once everything was in its rightful place, they figured that was as good a place as any to end the study session. Nobara folded the library sketch to keep as a reference. As she went to put it away, the orange flyer drew her eye. She snatched it up and held it in front of Maki.

Maki took a second to read it, then blinked at Nobara. “Congratulations?”

Nobara would’ve thought this was self-explanatory, but maybe not to Maki.

She clasped her hands, not unlike a prayer. “Please go with me.”

“Ah.” Maki rested her weight on her back foot. “It looks cool, but I won’t know anyone there.”

“You’ll know me.”

Maki tilted her head in consideration.

“Come on. I’ll make sure you have fun. And I’ll handle costume ideas, so you don’t even have to think about it.”

To seal the deal, Nobara put on the puppy dog eyes. Slowly, the lines of worry on Maki’s face gave way to curiosity. The corners of her mouth wavered, but eventually lost the fight against a smile.

“Fine,” Maki said.

Nobara cheered and was greeted with a chorus of shushes. She paid them no mind, given tonight’s big win. Her heart pounded, barely able to keep pace with her excitement.

Finally, she’d get to dress up with Maki and hang out for real.

~~~

Nobara spent longer than she’d like to admit looking up joint costumes. The trick was finding one she would like and that Maki would agree to. In a stroke of genius (or sleep deprivation), she decided on a vampire costume for Maki. It would call for dramatic, matching outfits. Plus, if Nobara played her cards right, she might get some neck kisses out of it.

It was perfect.

For the first time that semester, she made it to their desk early enough to wait for her tablemate. Maki looked slightly wary of the unbridled excitement on Nobara’s face, but she was sure Maki would see the vision soon enough.

“No need to be scared. I’ve got the best costume idea for us.”

“Uh-huh,” Maki said skeptically.

“You’ll be a vampire, and I’ll be your hapless heroine.” Nobara rested the back of her hand on her forehead and reclined fully over the side of her chair.

In her head, Nobara heard applause and cheers. With her ears, she heard Maki burst into a fit of laughter.

She pulled herself up to see Maki doubled over, eyes screwed shut behind her glasses. A few other students turned to stare, but all her focus was on Maki. She’d heard Maki chuckle before—sometimes even cackle when a joke hit her just right—but this was a completely new sound. It rang so clearly that Nobara was sure she’d remember it for the rest of her life.

“Do you…not like it?”

“No, no,” Maki said between gasps for air, “It’s great.”

The nearest shopping plaza was only a few stops from campus. But this deep into October, with the sun and its warmth far below the horizon, the ride seemed longer than it actually was. On the way out of the station, Maki buried the bottom half of her face in her scarf.

To stave off the biting chill, Nobara linked arms with Maki.

“Do you mind?”

To her delight, Maki shook her head.

Maki shoved her mittened hands in her pockets, further nestling her arm into the crook of Nobara’s. There wasn’t much heat to be shared between their bulky coats, but Nobara offered what she could.

Not wanting to overstay her welcome, she let go of Maki’s arm once they entered the costume shop. Glowing Halloween decorations lined each windowsill and shelf. Nobara would’ve enjoyed them more if she didn’t have to flick a fake spider off one of the price signs.

Her nose wrinkled at the quality of the outfits, some of which felt thin as paper. She circled around to the dress section, only coming to a stop when a lovely off-shoulder gown caught her eye. It was blood red with a fitted bodice. The material was smooth and sturdy between her fingers. She lifted it by the hanger and was pleased to see an open leg slit.

At the other end of the shop, Maki was staring at a flowy white blouse. Nobara sidled up to her for a closer look.

“Whatcha got there?”

Maki pulled it off the rack, and Nobara gasped. It may have been half of a pirate costume, but it lent itself well to a vampire’s ensemble. The open neckline and puffy sleeves were a great start.

“Oh, we have to try these on!”

In a tiny fitting room, Nobara left her outfit folded on the bench and turned to the full-length mirror. The gown slipped on with ease, clinging to her waistline. The neckline curved toward her upper shoulders, where the straps draped elegantly. She ran her hands over the bodice. A tug on the corset’s gold lacing revealed it was only for show. Just as well, since it needed no alteration. Turning to the side, she admired the swish of the fabric as it showed off a sliver of leg. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the exact set of earrings in her jewelry box that would bring the look together. 

She emerged from the fitting room at the same time as Maki. They took each other in, wonder reflected on their faces.

The open neck of Maki’s blouse showed off her graceful collarbone. A simple, yet appealing corset detail accentuated her torso. It wasn’t until Maki cleared her throat that Nobara realized how long she’d been looking.

“Do you like it?”

In the blink of an eye, Nobara closed the distance. She cradled Maki’s face and tilted one side up into the light.

“What are you doing?” Maki asked, slightly muffled by her cheeks.

“I wanna see something.”

Maki’s face hadn’t fully warmed up from the outside. A small blessing, since it meant Nobara’s palms wouldn’t get sweaty and embarrass her. From this angle, there was the slightest glint off the corner of Maki’s glasses. The slope of her shoulders artfully widened the shirt’s neckline.

Even under the shitty fluorescent lights, this vision of Maki squeezed Nobara’s heart.

“You’re so handsome,” Nobara said.

“Is that right?”

“Yes! Now hold this pose, I’m gonna get my phone.”

Maki grimaced, her face tense under Nobara’s hands.

“You're the model, not me.”

All things considered, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Maki would be camera shy. What a shame, Nobara thought, what a crime that someone could look so good and not want to capture it.

“Alright.” Nobara pointed her index finger at Maki. “But we have to take at least one at the party.”

Maki huffed a laugh under her breath, the earlier tension easing from her face. “If you say so.”

Afterward, bags in hand, the pair crouched in front of the display counter. Maki frowned at the plastic fangs behind the glass, thoroughly unimpressed. In addition to looking cheap, the only ones left were the wrong size.

“Whatever,” Maki said. “I’ll make some after shop class.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do anything.”

The sure calmness sent a thrill up the nape of Nobara’s neck, and she grinned.

“Plus we already have the materials,” Maki added. “I don’t even need to buy anything.”

“However you do it, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

“They’ll be sharp.”

It sounded like a warning, which left Nobara slightly confused.

“They’re supposed to be. Ooh! Can you do the bottom row too?”

“Yeah, I can make that work.”

The frigid air nearly dried out Nobara’s eyes, but it was worth it for a second chance to take Maki’s arm. Maki was cold enough to allow it all the way until her own stop arrived.

~~~

Thursday’s photoshoot was for a line of parkas and turtlenecks. Nobara got the feeling Kirara had requested it to make up for the last assignments. Even though it wasn’t their fault, the gesture was greatly appreciated.

To hold up her end, Nobara tried to be professional. Despite her best efforts, anticipation simmered in the back of her mind. It left her both restless and light on her feet.

Kirara hummed from behind their camera. “I don’t know what happened, but it must’ve been good.”

“Oh yeah,” Nobara said, another grin breaking free.

“You better tell me everything as soon as we’re done.”

The shutter clicked, capturing Nobara mid-giggle.

When it came time to review the shots, each pose was playful and loose—Kirara’s answer to the energy Nobara brought. The breakout among them was a closeup of Nobara’s face. Her eyes shined over the parka’s high collar, the tiny creases at the corners proof of a hidden smile. The glowing sunset behind her wreathed the top of her hair in light.

After Kirara marked that one to send to Nobara, they turned to her with an eager look.

“Okay, what happened?”

“So. You remember that party you told me about?”

Kirara nodded, and Nobara rocked onto the balls of her feet.

“Well, I got Maki to go with me.”

“The one with the glasses?”

“The very same.”

“Nobara,” Kirara gushed. “Way to go. No wonder you can’t keep still.”

They paused, then kicked a pinecone by their shoe. “Damn it!”

Nobara watched it sail toward some poor stranger. “What?”

“I won’t get to meet her.”

Nobara waved the thought away. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get another chance. She agreed to a joint costume.”

“Whoa.”

She took a moment to bask in her victory. Technically, it hadn’t come about yet, but that didn’t stop her. What mattered was that it was within reach.

~~~

Nobara had never been so excited for a Friday in her life.

The classrooms were abuzz with everyone discussing Halloween plans. Nobara was far from immune to this atmosphere. Toward the end of a lecture, her legs assumed the runner’s stance under her desk. The dismissal bell was her starting pistol. The moment it sounded, she bolted toward the architecture wing. She muscled her way through the throng of students, only stopping once she reached her final class of the day.

At their table, Maki had already taken her seat and was unpacking her notebooks. Nobara slid into her chair and turned to face her.

“Hey. How do you feel about tonight?”

“Good. Mostly,” Maki added after a beat. “I’ve never gone to a Halloween party, so I don’t know what to expect.”

Nobara’s eyes widened. “Never ever?”

Maki shook her head.

Nobara recalled the flyer and what it had listed.

“Well, there’s a dance floor at this one. If you were by yourself, you could hang out by the drinks. But you’re going with me, so we will be dancing.” Maki looked as though she’d expected such a condition, much to Nobara’s satisfaction. “Probably a photo booth, too. I’m only holding you to one pic, so don’t even worry about that. And if you don’t wanna stick around after that, I bet there’s at least one parade we could walk to.”

“Okay. Doesn’t sound that bad, actually.”

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

Maki hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose. Speaking of pictures, though, did you have another favorite?”

Nobara whipped out her phone and pulled up what she’d saved from her last shoot. Maki leaned in for a better look, eyes poring over every detail.

“They look like magazine covers,” she said reverently.

Something in her tone settled heavily over Nobara’s heart. That photoset came out as well as it had because she’d been thinking of Maki the entire time. She wasn’t sure when would be the best time to admit that, but she hoped it would be soon. In the meantime, she did her best to commit the sight of Maki’s unabashed wonder to memory.

As more students rushed in before the bell, Maki sat back and looked at Nobara.

“Well,” she said. “Only one bit of business left. How’d I do?”

Nobara swung her legs under her seat, not bothering to curb her excitement.

Today, Maki wore a pine green cable knit sweater. Its hem brushed the belt loops of high-waisted jeans. A pair of practical walking shoes completed the look.

“Great! You could probably go down a size on the sweater, but it looks super comfy so I get why you didn’t.”

“It is,” Maki said proudly.

“Either way, I’m sure you’ll look even better tonight.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Later that night, Nobara took a final look in her mirror. A short length of gold dangled from each ear. Peach lip tint gave her mouth a gorgeous sheen. With a classy pair of mid-heels, it all came together exactly as she’d imagined.

Brimming with confidence, Nobara stepped out of her apartment and into the taxi she’d called. She briefly regretted leaving her jacket at home, but she doubted there’d be a coat check. Outside, the sidewalks were packed with partygoers. Nearly everyone was in costume, some of them cradling props so as to not bump into anyone.

Once the cab pulled up to the venue, Nobara disembarked. The cold outside was bitter, but she was determined to tough it out. 

“Nobara!”

She turned to see Maki waving her over by the entrance. Nobara wasted no time joining her.

“You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“Nah, I just got here.”

Maki, amazingly, had also foregone a coat. Nobara was immensely grateful for this, since it let her appreciate Maki’s entire outfit. This was the first time she’d seen Maki wear her hair down. It was parted on one side and the ends brushed her shoulders, leading the eye across the open neckline and down to a pair of sensible black trousers.

“Whoa,” Nobara whispered.

When Maki flashed a smile, her accentuated canines glistened under the light. While Nobara admired the effect, Maki patiently held out one hand.

Curious, Nobara placed her hand in Maki’s. Maki slowly lifted it to her mouth and placed a gentle kiss to the back of it. A different kind of shiver worked its way over Nobara’s skin, and the chill was soon forgotten.

“I figured I should get into character.” Maki said, voice rumbly with humor.

A ton of words fought their way toward Nobara’s mouth. They all died in battle, so Nobara settled on a demure curtsy in response.

After a moment, they burst into laughter.

“Let me see your fangs.” Nobara balanced on her tiptoes to inspect them.

“Be careful,” Maki muttered.

As with everything she set her mind to, Maki’s craftsmanship was excellent. If she wasn’t already going into construction, Nobara was sure she could have a future in costume design. The top row’s fangs matched the pearly shade of the surrounding teeth, filed to a uniform length and sharpness. The canines on the bottom row were a few centimeters shorter, but retained the style.

Nobara was beyond impressed. “Damn, you did good.”

“Thanks. You’d be amazed what you can do with plaster.”

Having arrived fashionably late, there was hardly a line. Inside the party, colored lights pulsed to the beat of the music. Plenty of costumed guests tried their luck at party games. Nobara scouted along the edges of the dance floor and led Maki to a spot with enough room for both of them.

In keeping with their themes, Maki took a bow and Nobara took her hand once more. Maki held it steady as she led Nobara into a twirl. Orange locks flared about her face. Spinning in and out of Maki’s hold left Nobara’s head in a pleasant daze. At the end of one rotation, Maki shifted the placement of her arms to support Nobara’s back. In one fluid motion, she leaned into Nobara’s momentum and Nobara allowed herself to be lowered into a dip.

Neon illuminated the sides of Maki’s face, lending her an ethereal look. Awe coursed through Nobara as quickly and as potently as her own blood. Maki gently brought her upright and pulled Nobara’s back to her chest.

Nobara reached back to caress Maki’s face as they swayed to the music.

She could’ve stayed this way all night.

In a blessedly unoccupied corner, Nobara spotted the designated photo area. Instead of a photo booth, a mobile phone tripod was bolted to the floor in front of a couch.

Nobara jerked her head toward the corner. “Let’s go.”

Maki sighed. The warmth of her exhale ghosted along the shell of Nobara’s ear, but she followed without a fight.

Nobara adjusted her phone in the tripod cradle and set it to take a video. It was more reliable than a countdown and would yield plenty of screenshots to compare. She focused it on the couch and turned to Maki.

“If we’re doing this, we’re gonna do it right.”

Nobara sauntered over to the couch and draped herself on top of it. She settled into position: head leaned on the armrest, knee propped out of the dress’s slit. She brushed her hair away from her shoulder, baring the slope of her neck, and locked eyes with Maki.

“Come on, then.”

Hunger flashed across Maki’s face, Nobara’s reward for a job well done.

Maki’s weight settled above her, boxing her in on all sides. As she leaned down, it wasn’t fear that made Nobara’s pulse pound, but anticipation. Her plaster fangs scraped the side of Nobara's neck. It delighted Nobara’s nerves alongside the heavy pants that curled against her skin. Maki drew in a shuddery breath as she struggled to hold still.

It was admirable, but not what Nobara was after tonight.

She ran two fingers up Maki’s arm, watching the hairs stand on end. Maki let out a rough, gravelly sound she’d never heard before. She gripped Nobara’s shoulders and pushed herself away. Maki arched her back, looking down at Nobara with something fierce in her eye.

After a set of calming breaths, her grip on Nobara loosened. Despite Maki’s attempt to calm herself, her voice held an obvious strain when she leaned down again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Nobara said, breathless.

Maki kissed like she took no prisoners, which was more than fine by Nobara. It was an overwhelming pressure, the kind that wiped all thoughts from her mind and left a mounting urgency in its wake. She wrapped her free arm around Maki, ushering her closer. Maki obliged, kissing a path from her jaw to the juncture of her shoulder. Nobara’s hand sought the back of Maki’s head, fingers running through silky strands. Maki licked a stripe up Nobara's neck. The sensation brought forth a warm sensation that left them both trembling.

When they were truly out of breath, Maki did the favor of fetching the recording. Nobara could only watch from the couch, savoring the daze Maki had left her in.

Tonight’s mission was a grand success.

She sat up and reached for her phone, eager to see the footage.

But Maki didn’t hand it to her. “In a minute. I have to explain something first.”

Nobara sat up. “Oh shit. Did my phone die?”

Maki shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “No, nothing like that. Do you mind if we go outside?”

“Huh?”

“Please?”

A look she couldn’t quite define shaped Maki’s face. It was both earnest and reluctant. Whatever this was, it clearly wasn’t pleasant for her.

“Sure,” Nobara said.

Maki helped her off the couch, which was as necessary as it was appreciated. They worked their way through the crowd until they reached an exit. The pair emerged into an alleyway behind the civic center, empty save for the two of them.

Maki came to a stop underneath a beam of moonlight. As much as Nobara would’ve liked to question her again, the grimace Maki wore exuded discomfort. In this state, it was unlikely she’d respond well to prodding. So Nobara endured the silence, knowing Maki would speak when she was ready.

“I’m going to tell you something, even though I don’t expect you to believe me,” Maki started.

A daunting possibility appeared before Nobara. One that, looking back, she should’ve considered earlier. Nobara screwed her eyes shut. She refused to open them until she steeled herself enough to ask, “Do you already have a girlfriend?”

Maki’s brows nearly lifted to her hairline. “What?”

Once she realized Nobara was dead serious, she answered. “No. I don’t.”

“Okay,” Nobara sighed. She placed a hand on her chest in an attempt to rein in her heartbeat. “Go ahead. I can deal with anything else.”

“You sure?”

“Hey. I’ll tell you what I can’t deal with. Not the other way around.”

Maki laughed. Not in a disbelieving way, but in an incredulous way.

“Fine. I’ll just say it.” Maki stepped closer, her voice low and serious. And yet, her eyes held a withdrawn look, as if she were bracing herself for something. “I didn’t make these fangs. They’re real.”

Nobara scoffed. “Very funny. You might be too deep into character.”

“I figured you’d say that. I don’t blame you.” She handed Nobara’s phone back to her. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Nobara started the video. She took a few screenshots of herself laid out on the couch and kept watching. She prepared to take more when Maki joined her, but the moment never came. In silence, she scrubbed through the video again only to see herself grasping at someone who wasn’t there.

At no point did Maki appear on camera.

“No reflection,” she whispered.

Nobara thought over some of the time they’d spent together. How they only met up after night classes, how she stopped an enormous bookshelf without breaking a sweat, why she laughed so hard at the idea of playing a vampire, and why she hadn’t let Nobara take a photo of her before tonight. To that end, Nobara connected another dot in her mind.

“So that's why you always ask me how you look.” It wasn’t a question, but Maki still nodded. “I figured you just wanted a compliment.”

“That too.”

Nobara gasped, then playfully smacked Maki’s arm. Maki gently rubbed the spot, a wistful look softening her features.

“It’s also why I ask to see your favorite pictures every day,” she admitted. “That’s the closest I can get to seeing you in your element.”

The realization came with a sinking feeling in Nobara’s gut. Sunrise, sunset, and the time in between were forbidden to Maki.

But she’d never been one to give up on anything or anyone.

“Lucky for you, I look good at any time, day or night.”

Maki looked at her, eyes wide and searching. The silence stretched on as more and more questions seemed to come to her, but Nobara stood firm in her decision. Eventually, Maki determined the one she wanted to ask the most.

“You're not scared?”

Nobara smiled as she reached up to cup Maki’s cheek. “Vampire or not, you're still my date.”

Maki’s head bobbed backward as though the words had struck her bodily. 

“It’s true,” Nobara said. “You’re smart. You’re strong. You take fashion advice well. Plus, if you wanted to suck my blood, you'd have done it already. I gave you plenty of chances.”

“Too many.”

“Not enough,” she said coyly.

Maki’s brows drew together. Worry underscored her tone. “Why’d you say it like that?”

Nobara trailed her hand down and grabbed a fistful of Maki’s shirt, yanking her down to Nobara’s eye level. She planted a kiss square on her lips, smudging what remained of her lip tint. This time, they took care to maneuver around the very real fangs. They clutched at each other, shameless in their enjoyment, and Nobara only pulled back when her lungs screamed for air.

She lined her mouth up to Maki’s ear. “It’s still Halloween. If you bite me, I'll say it's part of my costume.”

“Here? I don’t think so,” Maki said, full of disapproval. “I’ve taken enough risks tonight. But I won’t pretend I haven’t thought about it.”

Since honesty was in the air tonight, Nobara took another chance to seize more of  it.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not if I numb it first.”

Maki cast a meaningful look toward one side of Nobara’s neck. Nobara rubbed the area that Maki had licked earlier, only now noticing it didn’t register the frigid temperature like the rest of her body did.

“So,” she continued, “I suppose the real question is: Do you want it to?”

“I don’t know,” Nobara said. “You’ll have to do it both ways so I can decide.”

Maki chuckled. “If you insist. Let’s head to my place.”

Maki turned around and hefted Nobara up onto her back, who went with no complaints. The night was plenty young, enlivened all the more by having company like each other’s to spend it with.

[silverrstarrr]

Normal girl (2)

Note: i just edit this chapter a bit and added more dialog. Someone messaged me and helped me out with a few things, thank you!

Chapter 2:

Walking side by side down the stairs, you took a sip of your coffee and place your herd of keys the side of your book bag. yume was scrolling through her phone on tik tok, drinking from her coconut Carmel ice coffee. You didn't understand why she was drinking ice coffee in mid February, it was cold. It was surprising their wasn't any snow.

Grinning like an idiot, she shaked your shoulder, positioning her phone in front of you–you both watched the tik tok. You didn't laugh at first only smiling, yume kept gesturing you to keep watching, waiting for the punchline. Finally it came up and you both started laughing, you slowly shaked your head placing your hand over your mouth.

"NOOO, nooo. That was so wrong, yall are going to hellll" you whined out.

Yume wiped the tears from her face and continued down the last step. She opened up the door and slid out, you trialing behind her. You both proceeded to walk down the street, where all the park cars were out.

"We riding in rich today girlie, jump in," she lifted up her arm that held her drink, her other reached into her purse and grabbed her car keys.

"I thought we were gonna walk there? It's only 10 minutes." You headed towards her car as she unlocked it and sat in the driver's seat. She had a 2018 dark Grey Nissan altima. You remember her having this ever since junior year, you recalled her talking about getting a newer model since this one was old. Like girl what? Old your ass, if the car still functioning there ain't no problem. White people shit, man.

"Well, it's the first day of sweet college life," she dragged out the last few words, adding a sarcastic tone. Yume tossed her bag in the backseat through the open space from the front, She dropped her drink in the little cup holder as well. Catching up with her, you open the backseat's door and chucked your bag in there–immediately closing it after. You pull the passengers door open and sat down, closing it behind you. Yume did the same–letting out a large sigh as she used her long sleeve to rub her legs, which were freezing.

"Bruh, you were just cold. Shouldn't have wore that skirt knowing it was this cold. Your mother would be disappointed," you moved your head side ways, pretending to be disappointed. You dropped your dunkin' drink in the other cup holder next to hers.

"Y/n, shut upp." Rolling her eyes jokingly, She grabbed the buckled next to her seat and puts it on. You placed your seat belt on too. Automatically, her phone connected to the car, you check over at the screen in the middle. It had the time, the degrees outside and all that other fancy things.

"Wanna play something?" she inserted the keys into the ignition and started the car.

"Yeah, I'll type it in,"

You grabbed her phone, showing the screen to her to unlock it, automatically recognizing her face– the lock screen slid up, revealing all her apps. You went to spotify and played "C U Girl" by Steve lacy.

"OKAAYYY, MS. INDIE TIK TOKER." Yume said nodding her, jamming to song. It was only going to be a 5 minute drive, or 7 if you guys couldn't find parking. She swerved to the left, leaving her parking space and pulling off. You whipped out your phone and paused your music, rapidly switching to snapchat–you heard yume's loud singing.

"I WANNA SEE YOU GUURRLL, I WANNA PLEASE YOU GIRL....GO AHEAD AND BE YOUR GIRL," This girl was jamming her out heart out, steve lacy was her favorite along with Brent faiyaz and many others.

In response, you started cackling as you hit the record button—swiftly turning over it to the driver. Her black ponytail moving as she sang and motioning her head in all different directions. Eyeing towards your direction she sees the phone and leans towards the camera flashing a smile, moving her head side to side—still singing through the lyrics. Yume returned back to the road as she lightly taps the steering, avoiding the horn of course.

Once the quick little vid was done, you added a caption,

"I swear if we crash😭😭💕"

Your thumb jolted between posting it on your private or public. You decided to post on the public story because why not? The song was over pretty quickly as the next one played.

"Who knew white people had rhythm?!" It was obviously sarcasm. You knew she was half Asian but it was fun always calling out her white side.

"Naaahh, white people don't have any rhythm. What you saw there was my miki matsubara pop out". She eases down her breaks– the traffic light turns red. Miki Matsubara? Oh yeah, it's that woman who sung "stay with me". It was a good song, you were obsessed with the chorus mostly. 

You giggled a bit at her remark, you checked your socials once again.

"If this light doesn-" Yume sentence was cut off by the light turning green. She pressed her foot on the gas and carried on with attending class.

                                  ~~~

Pulling up to the parking lot, yume leaned towards her wheel, searching for a place to park. She slowly went down each isle searching for a vacant lot she could snag. You had your drink in between your lips, you took the last sip and shook the plastic cup trying to get a little more. All you heard was ice rattling against one another, dropping the cup back in the holder. You peer out the window looking at the campus, there were a ton of kids, like a lot. Anxiety began spiking up through your veins, this really is the college life, huh? Maria University. It was a school for literally anything, it was one of the biggest universities in the country as well being highly diverse. Yume would be allll the way on the other side of campus while you're slightly in the middle.

"Uggghhh! I regret not leaving earlier, I don't see any open slots." She whined. This was her 2nd time driving around the parking lot looking for a space.

"I said we should walk but nahhh, you wanted to be lazy and take the car." You rolled your eyes as yume, exaggerating, throwing your hands in the air. But you weren't going to be late on the first day. As the generous queen you are, you aided your roomie with looking a space to park. After analyzing for a few moments, you spotted a space and immediately tapped at the window, pointing towards it. Yume car swerved to the left, sliding right into the parking. Taking her keys out the hole, she grabbed her drink and headed out.

"No leaving trash in my car, miss L/n!"

You grabbed your plastic cup and opened the passenger door.

"Yes ma'am," you opened the backseat and grabbed the two bags and closed the door. Beep yume locked her car. She was sipping her coffee but gave a bitter expression when her sweet drink was watered down because of the ice. You looked at your phone, checking the time:

                             8:38 am

                 Monday, February 18th

                                                               38m ago

Kittykiller27, prettygirlnene liked your photo

                                                               45m ago

[Andyhas]: CRONA BECK started following you and 48 others.

Your phone was blowing up from insta notifications. It was time for class and you weren't sure how long it'll even take you to find your classroom. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you handed yume her own, which she grabbed. You both were speed walking, despite her coffee being ruined she still continued to drink it. It was for the caffeine you guessed. Reaching the sidewalks, it was time to part ways. Yume turned her face towards yours pouting.

"We're leaving each other nooww," she stuck out her bottom lip staring at you. You grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to you. Her arms slithered around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder–giving you a warm hug. You returned the hug by grunting and holding her tightly.

She started giggling and patted your back a few times, you released your grip and she started to jog in the other direction while looking back, waving at you. You waved back hollering a "BYEEEE!" A trash can was next to you so you dumped your empty dunkin' there.

It was now time for your own adventure, to find this damn classroom. You click the play button on your phone's lock screen, "baby powder by Jenevieve began playing. (Play the song whores👩🏾‍💻)

Walking downwards to the left side of campus, you searched for a pair of doors to go inside of. At this moment, you regretted not going to orientation. That day you were busy setting up your website for your makeup line. You haven't released any products yet, but you had plentiful of ideas and themes you wanted to do. Since it was black history month, maybe you'll drop something as simple as a face cream to help clear and brighten up the skin. But you discarded that thought because you weren't anywhere near ready to start your own small business. Plus, you had bigger things to worry about.

Standing in front of double doors, you grab the handles and pulled it back, you stepped inside while students behind you did the same. You came in slowly, admiring the interior. It was hella spacy with paintings and photos hanging along the walls. Students were roaming the hallways going back and forth from classrooms. Most of the students seemed to be in some sort of costume, or they were dressed fairly well like they were models. You didn't know the directions to your designated class, so you took up the courage to ask someone. You turned to search for someone who didn't seem busy, since most people were rushing to class. Finally you laid eyes on q girl leaning against the wall, typing on her phone. She had long pink acrylic nails, her blonde hair tied into a low ponytail, which complimented her pale skin tone. She had a gold nose piercing on the right nostril.

She seemed nice enough, so you decided to approach her.

"Um excuse me, do you know where Mr. Fargo's class is at?"

The blonde girl averted her eyes from her phone, now focusing on you.

"I'm not really sure—um, I believe it's down that way." She pointed to the right of her.

"Mr. Fargo, he's teaches cosmetic right?"

"Yeah," you replied

"Then I think it should be down there." She scrunched her face in a confusing manner, meaning not to take her word for granted. But you couldn't care less, it was worth a try.

"Ight, thank you." You bid her goodbye. Oop. You accidentally switched your lingo. You were used to speaking in AAVE but you knew how to change your tone and wordplay around others who weren't African American. The girl didn't seen to notice so you just continued down the hall.

"Down... here right..? Yeah this is the way," you murmured to yourself while you strut down the hall. Then turned left as the lady told you. You were now at a hall with multiple doors. Out of all them, you forget the most important, class started in five minutes. You looked to the left as your braids swayed with your movement, then searched to the right. You walked down the hallway, stopping at the fifth door on the left. You were hesitant with grabbing the door, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself walking into the wrong room as all eyes are on you. You pulled out your phone and texted yume.

(I did a different message format just in the previous was confusing)

                 colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

       

                        I'm so lost, this is embarrassing.

Lost? What happened

                        

                               Idk where my class is

                             & its starting in a few

You don't know where?? Bruh

Ask someone, im sure they'll help you

                              I did...but she didn't tell me

                                    which class it was😭 all.

she said was "down the hall"

BYEE LMAOO

Uhh

Just open the door you think it is😋       

                      UH- HUH🧏🏾‍♀️ YOU SETTING ME

                               UP FOR FAILURE.

     

       Imagine going into the wrong class and

                 all you see are eyes 👁👁

Girl, half of the people won't even see you again on campus👩🏻‍🏫

If you don't recognize the teacher, try to ask a student close to the door for direction

         Okay, im blaming you if I make a fool.    

                           outta myself 😟

                        Read at 8:43 am

(Play quicksand by SZA rq 👩🏾‍💻)

You decided to take your roomie's advice and pick a class, which you already did.

You dropped your phone back into your jacket pocket and swung open the door–you were prepared for the stares. The classroom was vacant, not even a teacher in sight. Just a bunch of stools and white pull down screens. You saw a few cameras standing in front of these screens. "Was this the photography class or sum?" You mumbled to yourself.

And well, eyes were on you but it wasn't a herd as you expected, just one. Sitting on one of the stools in front of the door, was pale skin boy with long brown hair. It rested at his shoulders, some of it covering his face even. He seemed around 6ft, or 6 ft 2? You couldn't really tell since he was sitting.

He had on some black jeans with a black long sleeve sweatshirt as well with a beige greenish short sleeve unbutton shirt rested on top of it– a long golden key necklace dangled from his chest. His hands were sitting between his lap, you noticed sliver rings on them.(his outfit for people who need help visualizing) The teal eyed boy was also rocking black & white air Jordan 1 retro, literally the same as you.

You screamed internally at how fine this man looked and he had shoe gang? Uggghh. Class been started and you were going to be late on your first because this OBVIOUSLY wasn't your class. You decided to break the awkward silence and speak,

"Hey, um, is this Mr. Fargos class?" You stepped more into the classroom for the brunette male to hear you.

"Wrong one, babe. His class is in a totally different building." A different building?! You wanted to die right there and then, especially after hearing him laugh after his statement. Not just the wrong class but the wrong building? Bye–you're so stupid. His eyes scanned your body, his eyes lingered a bit longer at your shoes–it seems he noticed. A smirk appeared on his lips after finishing his quick outfit interrogation–wait, did he just call you-? I-, yes he did. You tried your best to hide your smile and not react.

"O-ooo, I got it. Thanks" Eren released a small chuckled seeing your reaction, he could tell you were caught up with the little pet name.

"I'll walk you over there." He got off his stool and walked towards your direction.

"I-, nah it's good, I got it." You said in defense not wanting to bother him. He didn't respond and just passed by you, exiting the classroom. He held onto the door, looking at you.

"You coming or no?" He was so nonchalant with it everything. You smiled a bit and walked out the class alongside with him. He released his grip once you were out and started trialing behind you.

You paused for a moment because you didn't know where you were going. You turned back to look at him, he caught on and let out an "ah". He quickly got in front of you as you proceeded behind him.

"So," he said.

"What?" You replied. Why did he start a sentence and not finish it? Was he expecting you to start the conversation, weirdo. You just wanted to get to class l.

"Oo, sassy are we?" He raised a brow.

"What—? boy, say what you wanna say."

Once again, he let out a chuckle, flashing you a small. God, was his laugh attractive.

"You're into makeup and stuff?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I'm into 'makeup and stuff' " You said the last few words in the mocking tone, referring to what he called cosmology.

"That's good, at least I'll be seeing you often."

"Often? Oh, are you in that major also?" You said.

"No...Do you really not know anything?" He made you feel dumb by his response. How were you suppose to know what he meant? You clicked your teeth and started walking ahead. You pushed back the door that lead to another hallway and walked towards the end to push the second door that lead to another building.

The brunette boy watched as you left him behind in the dirt, waiting for the moment you'll turn the wrong corner—so he could tease you about it then correct you.

It wasn't too long till you reached your destination, you both stopped in front of the class's door.

"Well, see you. I hope you don't make snarky remarks to every girl you meet."

"Nah, only you princess." He had a smirk on his face, ooo! You wanted to wipe it off.

You glanced at him and his eyes were already on you, you broke eye contact and reached for the handle.

"Wait–" you whipped your heard back.

"Yeah?"

He cleared his throat

"Name's Eren," you let out a small giggle, did he really just stop you to say his name? Puhleasee. Hearing your laugh, his face brightened up and kept his eyes on you.

"Okay, Eren~. Thank you for walking me, I gotten get to class now."

You opened the door and stepped inside. Eren didn't even get a chance to ask your name. Luckily for him, your major mingled a lot with his own, he could only hope to see you again around campus.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

Authors note: UGHHH, I STAYED UP ALL NIGHT FOR THIS just to pass out a few hours before school started. 🥲 I wasn't even paying attention in English and math class, but hope yall enjoyed <3.

Pt 3

[kousin-itt]

I Got Your Back - Part 3

WARNING: Violence and blood in this chapter, along with light implied sexual humor.

Part 3

Block pulled up a holographic screen to display the information as he relayed it to Cavendish and Dakota. “The Triton’s Amulet was a priceless jeweled necklace created by a master jeweler and given to the daughter of a family who was feuding with the jeweler’s family. The feud between the families was full-on bloodshed. I’m talking Montague vs. Capulet level, at each other’s throats at all times. The Triton’s Amulet was a peace offering, a symbol of the friendship between the jeweler and the daughter. It was passed down through the generations until it was donated to a museum, where it was stolen by this man: Tyler Cobalt. Cobalt sells the Triton’s Amulet to a black-market dealer, who later dismantles the necklace and sells the parts for profit. That, gentlemen, is what you are going to prevent.”

“So, we are to prevent the theft of the amulet?” Cavendish guessed.

“Oddly enough, no.” Block said. “See, the Triton’s Amulet being stolen prompts the museum to create better security measures, which later prevents worse thefts from happening. You two are going to tail Cobalt until he steals the amulet, and then you’re going to take the amulet from him before he can sell it.”

“Thieving the thief. I like it.” Dakota chuckled.

“Stay sharp, Chuckles.” Block snapped. “You two won’t have a big window of opportunity. Cobalt steals the amulet late at night and then hops on a plane early the next morning to take the amulet to the black market. Based on our research, Cobalt actually gets killed by the buyer once he gets to the black market; but, ideally, you two dunderheads will retrieve the amulet and Cobalt will be apprehended by the police of his era. Be quick, be careful, and be sneaky.”

Dakota caught the backpack Block tossed to him. Cavendish accepted the paperwork with all their mission information. “We will not let you down, sir.”

“Well, you haven’t so far.” Block shrugged. “But I’m not getting my hopes up. Now get out of here!”

A short while later, the Second-Class Time Travelers were in their time vehicle and speeding off into the time stream.

Dakota fiddled with his seat to get comfortable. “When are we getting our own vehicle? I’m tired of this stupid van.”

“It’s a standard time vehicle for in-training and rookie agents.” Cavendish reasoned. “I’m sure we’ll get a new one once we complete this mission. Besides, it’s not that bad. It’s actually one of the newer models, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, but the seats could use new stuffing.” Dakota complained.

“If you don’t like it, why don’t you go lay on that mattress you insisted on putting in the back?” Cavendish jerked a thumb behind him. Indeed, the backseats were folded down and there was a twin-size mattress taking up half of the empty space behind them.

“That’s my napping mattress when our missions take too long.” Dakota protested. “If I lay on it now, I’ll fall asleep.”

“I never took you for the type to care.” Cavendish sighed.

“Eh, go boil your head.” Dakota snickered.

“You’re ridiculous.” Cavendish muttered under his breath.

Thankfully, they arrived in the right time and place soon enough. The darkness of the night setting contrasted greatly with the bright colors of the time stream they just exited. Dakota took out the mission file and punched a location into the GPS. Cavendish followed the directions to the museum while Dakota rummaged around in the backpack Block gave them.

“Typical supplies. Rather boring weapons.” Dakota took out two hand pistols, designed appropriately for their current era. Generally, time travelers only used weapons that matched whatever time period they were in, just in case that weapon were to get lost or taken by someone else in that era. Plus, fewer people would ask questions.

“I hope we do not need to use them.” Cavendish was a decent shot, but he despised guns. They had no elegance, no beauty in them. Not to mention it was far too easy for someone to be killed by one.

Dakota hummed in thought. He looked and sounded more focused than Cavendish had seen before. Dakota didn’t like that Block gave them guns. Not because he hated guns, per se, but because he worried about having to use them. Time travelers weren’t supposed to cause deaths in the past unless absolutely necessary.

Cavendish parked the van around the corner from the museum. He and Dakota exited the vehicle and walked up the stairs to the front door of the magnificent building. Dakota pretended to check the hours while covertly investigating the dark interior.

“According to the files, this building’s alarm system only goes off if someone tries to break and enter.” Cavendish said as they walked down the steps.

“But Cobalt gets away and the theft isn’t even discovered until morning.” Dakota remembered that from the file. “How does he get in without tripping the alarm?” He looked ahead and froze, cursing in Italian. Cavendish followed his gaze and saw their target. Cobalt walked towards them, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a cigarette pinched between his lips. He looked inconspicuous, like a barman walking home from a late-night shift.

“Act casual.” Cavendish whispered.

“Does that mean we kiss?” Dakota teased.

Cavendish bit his lip to keep from exploding in indignation and frustration. How can he be joking around at a time like this?! Cavendish wondered. Dakota sniggered again, and the pair kept walking. Cobalt passed them without a second glance.

Smart. Dakota mused. Act like you don’t exist, like you belong where you are now, and most people glance over you. He pulled Cavendish into the next alley they passed, and they watched Cobalt continue down the sidewalk. Once he started climbing the stairs to the museum, Cavendish and Dakota tiptoed closer and hid behind one of the statues out front. They watched in amazement as Cobalt pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked the door to the museum, and strutted inside like he owned the place.

“Clever.” Cavendish tapped his lip in thought as they returned to their van. “Either he stole the key from one of the employees or he found a way to copy it himself.”

“Now we know how he avoided detection until morning.” Dakota said. They sat in their van, moving it only just enough to see the front doors of the museum. “What do you say we jump him when he gets back? Take the amulet, arrest him, and get back home for lunch?”

“Not likely.” Cavendish said. “Did you not see the bulge in his jacket?”

“Was I supposed to see it? What if it’s inappropriate?” Dakota shrugged.

Cavendish face-palmed. Curse his partner’s crude humor. “I’m saying he very clearly had a gun in his pocket. Best if we wait until he comes out. Then, we will follow him home and steal back the Triton’s Amulet while he sleeps. Less chance of us getting shot.”

Dakota checked the time. “Depending on when he gets back and how long it takes to drive there, that only gives us a few hours before his flight in the morning.”

“We can manage.” Cavendish assured.

The confidence in his partner’s voice put Dakota’s mind at ease. They waited, watching the doors until they spotted Cobalt leaving. Cobalt returned to his own car and drove off, with Cavendish and Dakota safely following him. Cobalt left the brightly lit streets and arrived at a dinghy strip of townhouses. Cavendish parked the van in a dark alleyway. Dakota slung their backpack of gear over his shoulder. Cavendish glanced to his satchel in the backseat, and he decided it would be best if he only had his firearm with him. He and Dakota trailed Cobalt’s car to find which building he lived in. Cavendish and Dakota ducked behind some bushes and watched Cobalt park and enter a house. The lights inside came on, and then flipped off fifteen minutes later.

“He’ll probably sleep for a while before his flight.” Dakota guessed. “Let’s get that amulet.”

“Wait a moment. Give him time to really fall asleep.” Cavendish whispered. “If he locked it in a safe, we need time to hack into it.”

“You can crack a safe?” Dakota looked impressed.

“You don’t know everything about me.” Cavendish shrugged with a rather proud smile.

“I hardly know anything about you.” Dakota said. “We really ought to fix that. What’s your favorite food?”

“You really want to do this now?” Cavendish hissed. “What if someone hears us?”

“It’s just past midnight and all the other houses are dark. Relax.” Dakota scoffed.

“I will relax when the mission is complete.” Cavendish declared.

“And then we can talk more? Get to know each other better?” Dakota suggested.

Cavendish opened his mouth to retort, but conflicting words tangled his tongue. Part of him wanted to scoff and assure Dakota that such a thing wasn’t necessary. Another part of him pleaded to say yes. So Cavendish cleared his throat and returned his attention to the house. Despite his mild fear of the dark, he was happy the shadows could mask his discomfort. Why did he find the idea of hanging out with Dakota enjoyable? What was so appealing about the thought that he and this brutish young man could be friends?

Once they agreed it was safe, Cavendish and Dakota snuck up to Cobalt’s house. Dakota picked the lock to the front door, and they crept into the dark house. Dakota handed Cavendish one of the pistols from his backpack. Cavendish gestured for Dakota to go up the stairs, and Dakota nodded to confirm. The pair split off to search the two-level house.

Even in the near-blackness, Cavendish could register the layout of the connected kitchen and living room area. The first word that came to mind was “pathetic.” From the outdated appliances in the kitchen to the weathered easy chair and cheap TV in the living room, Cavendish deduced that Cobalt was a broke loner, which explained why he would steal for profit. If it were different circumstances, Cavendish would entertain the idea of counseling Cobalt instead of leading him to the police. However, Cobalt’s file outlined a history of drug abuse and distribution to high schoolers, so Cavendish felt little pity for the man destined to be arrested that night.

Must focus. Cavendish reminded himself. The sooner Dakota and I find that amulet, the sooner we get out of here.

As Dakota ventured upstairs, Morgan’s lessons echoed in his head. Never step in the middle of the stairs, where creaks are more likely to happen. Keep low to the ground to delay enemy detection. Be aware of everything around you. Listen; do not hear but listen. Dakota felt a tingle go up his spine. He hated silence. He hated the apprehension that came with sneaking around. Any moment now, he might get caught. He wished Cavendish were at his back.

Upstairs, there were three doors, two of which were closed. Snoring came from one door. By reaching into the open door, Dakota could feel a countertop and porcelain sink for a bathroom. Dakota moved deliberately, closer and closer to the closed doors. Since they neighbored each other, Dakota couldn’t tell where the snores came from. After a quick eeny-meeny-miny-moe, Dakota twisted the knob of one door and pushed it open, ever so slowly.

He nearly cursed in Italian again.

Dakota chose the door to the office space, but Cobalt evidently decided to sleep in his rickety office chair before his early flight. Dakota almost shut the door when a glitter caught his eye.

Figures. Dakota silently groaned. The Triton’s Amulet lay on the desk next to Cobalt. Dakota’s mind raced. What would Morgan do? What should he do? What might Cobalt do if Dakota’s plan failed? Dakota had a thought to awaken Cobalt and arrest him, but Block did make it explicitly clear that Cobalt’s fate should rest in the hands of the authorities in this time period. Dakota didn’t much care for the rules. Still, he had no idea if Cobalt had a weapon on him. Better to grab the amulet and get out.

Quietly, Dakota slipped the backpack off his shoulders and set it aside, just in case he had to make a run for it. With his gun trained on Cobalt’s sleeping form, Dakota took the slowest, most silent steps he could manage. He forced his breathing under control to stay quiet. His eyes flickered fast, focusing on Cobalt for a split second and then spending the next half-second staring at the desk so he would not bump into it. Cavendish was still downstairs.

It only took a minute that felt like an hour to reach the desk. Still, Dakota kept his gun pointed at Cobalt. His fingertips gripped the edges of the trident-shaped, jeweled pendent. Dakota lifted the amulet from the desk and slipped it and the chain into his jacket pocket. Dakota moved back to the door, his nerves settling.

He reached the door, and a light cast his shadow against the wall.

Dakota spun around, safety flicked off on his gun, but the brightness of Cobalt’s flashlight blinded him. Cobalt pushed the gun aside and body-slammed Dakota into the wall. He smashed the door against Dakota’s hand and forced him to drop the gun. Dakota shoved Cobalt back and punched him. The flashlight hit Dakota’s face, and he tasted blood. He aimed low and tackled Cobalt like a linebacker, sending them to the ground where they grappled for control. The erratic movement of the light disoriented them. Cobalt may have been similar in build, but he was fueled by desperation, and a desperate man was hard to fight until you found just the right moment to subdue him.

In the poorly lit space, Dakota didn’t see the office chair and tripped over it while trying to escape. The chair landed on top of him, and then so did Cobalt. The flashlight’s beam hit Dakota’s eyes again. The top of the chair’s backrest pressed against his throat, and Cobalt pushed his entire body weight on the chair to keep Dakota pinned.

“Thought you could swipe my prize, huh?” Cobalt sounded as crazy as he looked. “I got someone willing to pay a fortune for that thing, and you are going to pay big time for screwing with me.”

With the chair pressing against his legs, Dakota didn’t have the proper leverage to push or kick it off him. He struggled with all his might, clawing at the poor-quality leather upholstery. He couldn’t get a breath in. His thoughts ran a mile a minute. Where was his gun? Where was Cavendish? What would happen to him if Cobalt realized there was a second intruder in the house?

Dakota fought to stay alive. The room was getting darker. Was the flashlight going out?

“No!”

Cavendish may be lanky in figure, but his full body weight and force of the blow was strong enough to knock Cobalt off Dakota and send both men tumbling across the floor. Dakota coughed harshly, pushing the chair off him. He could just make out Cavendish and Cobalt exchanging punches. Cobalt kept one hand on Cavendish’s gun to keep it away from him. He punched the time traveler in the eye, breaking his glasses. Driven by adrenaline, Cavendish punched back harder. Cobalt managed to get one good hit into Cavendish’s stomach that knocked the wind from him.

Then, Cavendish felt something hard jab him in his ribs. Just before he realized what it was, a gunshot went off, and burning pain coursed through his torso. In shock, Cavendish hit the ground while holding his side. Cobalt had his gun, aimed right at him. Cavendish flinched, preparing himself for another shot that would hopefully kill him immediately.

“Hey!”

Cobalt turned his attention and gun to Dakota. Five shots left Dakota’s gun in quick succession: one hit Cobalt in the forehead, two hit his chest, one hit the wall, and one grazed Cobalt’s shoulder. Cobalt was dead before he hit the floor. Dakota didn’t need to check for a pulse to know that, but he still kicked the gun from the criminal’s hand before he ran to his partner’s side.

[shibiichi]

Very basic lore shit for some of the fantrolls I just posted:

~ Burgundy

Pelone Messah: a young burgundy blood troll who enjoys handing out with her Indigo Morail. She’s known as the group party girl and is naturally charismatic but will sometimes come off as rude or apathetic.

Mariot Messah: a burgundy blood who has a deep fascination with the arts, specifically photography. She wants to be the first burgundy blood to traverse the entire empire before her life expires. She is kindhearted and cheery, though can be too excited and reckless.

The Canaress (Mariot): A determined journalist who will risk anything to get the news to the public, especially among the highblood quarrels.

The Sanguine (Pelone): An optimist who travels around to help those effected by the empire, especially after attacks.

~ Bronze

Bonahn Celste: An up-incoming bronze model, Bonahn wants to change the empire’s ways with representation of the lower classes. She is determined and empathetic, never letting her lower blood stop her. However she is overly emotional and is prone to mental breakdowns when picked on.

Zharan Celste: Zharan takes an interest in the stars and constellations. She is a reserved bronze blood who just wants to do her own thing. She’s thoughtful, honest, and intelligent, but hard to get along with as she has a tough exterior and often resorts to a physical form of arguments.

The Ascended (Zharan): A bronzeblood who raised from the depths of poverty despite her status. Holds considerable power but is generally detested due to what actions she had to commit in order to ascend.

The Poignant (Bonahn): An activist for low blood rights and generally seen as a caste therapist. Unfortunately seems to focus on the small things rather than the big picture.

~ Gold

Keelah Tembll: a witty and talented programmer, Keelah fits in perfectly to the gold caste. She puts a lot of time into the work she does but doesn’t forget to let herself enjoy life’s moments. She is a quick thinker, a great leader, and has a dry sense of humor. Often though, trolls are pushed away from her as she can be impatient and cruel.

Pitika Tembll: Pitika is a gold blood with considerable clout. She enjoys using social media and rides the low blood representation trend in each post. She is creative, independent, and inspirational, but tends to be conceded and uses her follower count to intimidate others.

The Eclectic / The Vehement (Pitika): A powerful spokesperson against the highblood tyranny. Known for using their psionics to deface public structures and commit arson against imperial buildings.

The Prioress (Keelah): a devout cult priestess who sing’s the highblood’s praises and treats the fuchsia caste like gods.

~ Lime

Mellon Usilue: A soft-spoken and sweet lime blood, Mellon is seen as the troll empire’s ultimate friend. She can manage to get along with most anyone and is always there to help anyone out, no matter the blood color. She is generous, sweet, and patient, though tends to let people walk over her or use her for their gain. She is also ashamed of her body and tends to get defensive if someone brings it up.

Pirchh Usilue: a headstrong and confident lime blood, Pirchh can be hard to get along with at first glance. She’s incredibly bold and doesn’t let others push her around, especially highbloods. Getting past her spiky exterior opens up to a troll who cares a lot about her safety and the safety of those who often get picked upon. She’s incredibly resilient and all about helping trolls better their lives through tough love.

The Tӎerarii (Pirchh): a lime blood who took the highblood upset into her own hands and aims to raise a rally of other trolls, using her calming abilities to manipulate other highbloods onto her side.

The Succorer (Mellon): an ambassador to the fuchsia empress who speaks fondly of the ruling caste, working to spread a positive image and damage control.

~ Olive

Rulani Pumale: this olive blood is the definition of reclusive. Rulani doesn’t like going out much and rather would stay inside all day in bed and on social media. She’s generally optimistic and loves talking to people who share her interests, though she can also be snide and a tad selfish.

Ozzidi Pumale: Ozzidi is an olive with an objective. She is seen as ‘quirky’ but also incredibly friendly to those she meets. She often gushes about her matesprite and will talk a troll’s ears off about them. Unfortunately though, she has a strong distaste for sea dwellers and will go around with her matesprite to harass high blooded sea-folk. She strangely has a fascination for origami though.

The Eleeinos (Ozzidi): One half of a pair of greenblooded killers who seek out sea dwellers to cull. Considered the less respected of the two due to her Olive caste and is constantly put down because of it.

The Duressor (Rulani): An olive blood who takes pride in collecting bounties on troll of all castes, no mater their personal views. She’s in it for the money and infamy.

~ Jade

Vennis Arvone: Vennis is a Jade blood that acts the part. She’s loving and helpful, enjoying acting like the mother of the group. She loves to clean and make things look fancy, taking a preference to interior design. Although she is a wonderful friend, she can be a bit judgmental of those she doesn’t know that well and tends to take them by appearance only.

Kimqey Arvone: Kimqey is an interesting Jade to be sure. She comes off as incredibly sweet and optimistic, but is able to casually talk about her disdain for all things sea dweller in the middle of her perky conversation. Kimqey and Ozzidi are matesprites that both play off one another’s hatred for the higher classes, though Kimqey seems to be worse then the olive blood. Fortunately though, her rage for sea dwellers tends to be calmed when she is with her matesprite and partaking in her favorite activity, which is applying makeup.

The §urmouna (Kimqey): The second half of the green blood killers. The higher respected half of the two and a rainbow drinker to boot. She is especially know for her viciousness.

The Aigrette (Vennis): A sort of doll for the image of the empire. Acts as a representative for what the citizens of the Empire should act like.

~ Teal

Pixuhn Aridel: Pixuhn is a laid back, down to earth teal that’s just here to have a good time. She has little to no grievances with anyone and enjoys simply being with her friends and partaking in fun activities with them, from watching movies to her favorite, card games. She isn’t the best troll to go to when you need to vent though, as she can come across as insensitive and apathetic to another’s troubles.

Motaro Aridel: Motaro is a teal that definitely could cut the coffee. She’s very hyper and loves to know what’s going on at every point of the day. She’s an open book with her feelings on subjects and will take any dare given to her. Her favorite activity would have to be baking, especially with fruits like peaches. She can be blunt though and unintentionally hurtful with her words, and tends to push the blame onto others instead of taking it on herself.

Jingoist Gleefoul (Motaro): a dedicated loyalist to the fuchsia crown and fights for their empress’s title. Doesn’t know of much which is going on but dedicated to the fuchsia caste nonetheless.

Gambless Malcheck (Pixuhn): a teal blood who enjoys putting the lives of others at stake in order to feed her destructive habits. Employed by mostly highbloods to ensure a caste lower than themselves will be punished severely for any sort of crime.

~ Cerulean

Qinnly Moboke: The cerulean blood Qinnly is quite literally as chill as you could possibly get. She’s open to most ideas and goes with the flow in almost all situations. She’s a good friend to go to for your troubles and loves trying to help her friends cope by distracting them with challenges that can often lead to death. Unfortunately she can be a bit nosy and unintentionally manipulative.

Czenik Moboke: Czenik is a cerulean blood that lives up to her caste. She is generally abrasive and foul, taking an interest in expanding her collection of caste blood related memorabilia. She takes full advantage of her class’s psychic abilities when expanding her collection. Fortunately, she can be pleasant and goes on surprisingly cheerful rants about her possessions. She values their rarity and difficulty in collecting, while also showing respect to fellow subculture connoisseurs.

Chancellor Coimetro (Czenik): A cerulean who works to subjugate the lower classes and keep them ignorant. Due to this she was promoted.

Tsaritsa Duplexda (Qinnly): A blue blood cerulean who seized parts of the empire and places herself on top of those stolen areas. Surprisingly good at avoiding culling.

~ Indigo

Balton Istahg: Balton is one of the sweetest Indigo bloods you’ll ever meet. She’s got a passion for the art of hair care and loves when her friends let her do their hair. She’s also interested in tattoos and and gives herself her own ink. She’s soft spoken and agreeable, though can be distant, anxiety prone, and uncomfortable around most people.

Iaasik Istahg: Iaasik is a quick and sassy indigo who knows what she’s good at. She’s heavily into the tech and hacking scene, enjoying the thrill that comes along with code breaking other’s security. Due to her interests though, she can be abrasive and often concerns herself with other’s private problems. She often doesn’t realize when she steps over the line and into someone’s private bubble. Fortunately, she’s a quick learner and is able to catalog other’s specific qualms once she’s told.

Harborer Vaedread (Iaasik): A indigo blood with access to what is happening among the highbloods. Unable to speak of the misdeeds to the public for fear of being culled by either the sea dwellers & clown, or the cerulean chancellor.

Brandern Mokoband (Balton): works as a trader of trolls. Got her title due to her infamously painful branding procedures when trading low blood slaves.

~ Purple

Piyntl Cumber: Piyntl takes the Purple blood clown aesthetic to heart and loves rocking it. She’s bubbly and excitable, often being the loudest of the group. She especially enjoys theater and teaching her friends how to do basic gymnastics. She can come off as overbearing though, and tends to have a negative emotional reaction to blunt but honestly comment’s about her behavior.

Ophiil Cumber: Ophiil is a purple blood hatched with a deformed face. She’s incredibly kind hearted though it’s hard to get bast her tough exterior she put’s up. She can come off as masochistic, and her Lusus only seems to encourage this behavior. She’s gotten used to playing the part as that’s what trolls expect of her due to her appearance and blood color, figuring it’s easier to participate in the role given to her rather than deviate from it.

The Heiress PhobepyꙞ (Ophiil): A purple blood who takes claim to the throne in stark competition to the other highbloods. Once worked with said highbloods to eliminate the fuchsia empress but could not agree to who would be the new empress.

The Funambulist Cuspidhg (Pintyl): a purple blood who opted to run away from the empire and achieve her dreams of simply thriving in life. Surprisingly pure hearted for a purple blood.

~ Violet

Luvici Vonmet: Luvici is a violet seadweller with a penchant for beauty. She’s absolutely obsessed with the fashion of the universe and finds it her purpose to introduce it to the empire. She loves seeing others participate in what most would consider unimportant but can easily get jealous by those she perceives as threats. She can be selfish and egotistical but can also be inspiring and creative.

Gurroe Vonmet: Gurroe is a quiet violet sea dweller who enjoys putting her mark on society. And by mark I mean she wants to paint it with blood to match her aesthetic. She loves all things gory and cute, not realizing that her actions hurt those around her. Even so, she’s incredibly artistic and and gives off the “cool quiet troll” vibe.

Grandeur Bowellox (Gurroe): One of the highbloods fighting for the throne. Was responsible for raising the Ascended into infamy and now hovers over the Ascended, making sure she stays in line and lays her debts.

The Cavalier Scalchic (Luvici): A violet blood who works with the Cerulean Tsaritsa and protects her from the rein of the current fuchsia empress. Acts like her knight or bodyguard in a sense.

~ Fuchsia

Opelic Uridae: Opelic is a fuchsia heir that is prepared to take back the throne for the fuchsia caste. She is determined and extremely talented in the topic of political debate. She’s a quick thinker and is incredibly confident, though she can come off as greedy, materialistic, and narcissistic due to her caste.

Hostia Uridae: Hostia is the sweetest of fuchsia bloods. She is very quiet and reserved, preferring to keep to herself rather than a group of friends. She extremely concerned about the environment around her and advocates for it’s preservation. She does tend to try and please everyone though, leading to multiple empty promises and generally has poor planning skills.

The Pusillan (Hostia): A fuchsia who was a victim of circumstance. Proved to be too weak-hearted to lead the empire so was culled by a group of three highbloods.

The Vainglor (Opelic): A powerful fuchsia empress who does not want anyone near her throne. Uses those below her to spread propaganda about the empire and actively tries to silence any rebellions or rivals.

~ Mutant

Marett Cyclik: a fun-loving and light-hearted mutant fuchsia who tries not to take her odd hue very seriously. In fact she tries to take everything as a joke, which causes others to perceive her as uncaring. She is quite giggly and is incredibly easy to make laugh. She can be easily distracted and is often incorrectly labeled as an airhead.

Harqui Cyclik: a mutant fuchsia with a twisted sense of humor and entitlement. She finds herself to be the proper heir to the throne though prevents herself from challenging it as she’s aware of the stigma around mutants. She’s rather self conscious but tends to lash out aggressively at anyone who may point this out.

The Rhadaman (Harqui): A mutant fuchsia with yet another claim to the throne. Pairs with The Heiress PhobepyꙞ to take down the grandeur but but now fights a risky battle with the purple blood heiress, leaving the empire in a shaky state with no real leader.

The Quipster Paltryin (Marett): An (unfortunately) outspoken mutant who works to poke fun at the empire. Produces works which directly go against the empire’s values and acts as an anonymous voice for the lower castes. Lives in clown exile with The Funambulist.

[sweet-xoxo-thatcares]

I feel like I have so many doors,

I don't know which ones to choose. But all of them I know which ones I wanna try learning and doing. Cause why not? Why keep imagining it? Nothing holding me back anymore, not even me. Except probably the fat, but that's insecurity. I'm not afraid to say what I am anymore or what I want to do in life. when ppl ask me and they say "ok weirdo"

I won't get offended anymore. I'll tell them and walk away. Lol its uselesss to please ppl, they'll always look for something else for you to do for them. Cause ppl who aren't pleased with themselves, aren't pleased with the world. And sadly that means everyone else in their worlds, will know exactly what I'm talking about until they stop caring too.

Its not you, its them. Be who you want to be it, and it won't matter. I t won't make sense to some, but who do you have to prove? Nobody except you and God.

Now go out there, sign up for dance classes, go back to school or don't got to school; the world is your education.

The school of life has hard knocks, it'll make you fall hard, deep in the asshole to a desecrating pulp, it'll push you out if you let it. You have the power the whole time, you do have control over your life, its just the resources, the connects, the opportunities wee see...you need to take advantage, take heed, but don't hurt other people to take advantage and be the better stead.

Life's not a competition. What's the rush? Is it a race between you and your past or between you and your future?

Who do you wanna be? What do you wanna look like, now, in this present moment?

What do your hands say, who do you see in the mirror? What have you learned so far? How far you wanna go in life? The average expectancy for a black man is in his 80's. Im going for 102, cause its similar to my birthday. I will be the funniest grandma ever.

I'm not gonna be old and alone after my music career. And yea, I'm doing it. I'm not gonna be afraid because my face doesn't look like everyone else's. I'm not gonna let the beauty standards of the world stop me from feeling pretty or feeling smart or feeling beautiful about myself. But I am gonna lose weight. I am getting stronger. And I will be better.

I will become a teacher, an artist, a painter, a producer, a sound foley artist, a musician, model, photographer, photography shoot director, video game designer, animator, a singer, pianist, drummer, violinist, guitarist, trumpet player, saxophone, therapist, counselor, pilot, driver, speed-racer, gardener, business owner, hotel/inn/airbnb/b&b owner, wood carver, car detail artist, shoe designer for plus size women with big feet, pyrographist, graffiti artist, poet, writer, journalist, korean/international music producer, illustrator, a house builder, an architect, treehouse builder, a mother, a herbal medicine maker, sex toy producer, mixologist, board game maker, movie theatre owner, sailor, music video director, movie director, costume maker, set designer, dancer, gymnast or at least try gymnastics, mma/martial artist, kickboxer, football player, basketball/soccer/volleyball/lacrosse player, track runner, 420/cbd grower, florist, party designer, interior designer, world traveller, volunteer, shelter worker, deep dive swimmer, tattoo artist, body painter, t-shirt maker, pottery maker, art teacher/music teacher, a healer, a spiritual therapist, relationship/marriage counselor, sex therapist.

I've always wanted to make a summer program for girls too. Those helped me when I was younger in florida and barely even spoke to anybody.

Omg, I just heard my heart say "I want a boy" and I've never said that before. What would my son's name be?

I used to be afraid of having kids and being a mother because I was afraid I would do it wrong? Like overthinking the worst because of what happened to me...

I know God will bring the best parts out of me and pour it into the seed of my son or a daughter if the genes come out to be that way.

I wish I wasn't such a cynic, but I know that will change too in a more positive attitude once I get my own beach house. Its been my dream to live by the water. Have a lakehouse too in the forest, with our own boat....whoever that person I'm supposed to be with at the time its made to be so.

Letting go of Jay and my dream to be married to them and their S.O, really did open me up to more possibilities. Better achievements.

I wouldn't have gone back to school to get my masters in psychology had I not met them and got mistreated that much.

Im glad I didn't stay in Flint just to be near them. God intended it for me the leave. I will look at the burn on my hand from that day with my mom, as a reflection to never let the heat of the matter overcome me to where I'm not who I am anymore. Be quick to listen, slow to respond, and slow to anger as He said in the bible.

I shall do all these things through Christ that strengthen me and more. There's so much more I wanna do, I wanna learn, explore, and give a whole bunch to the world to see and inspire. Yea I hope I inspire others and comfort them through their pain. Im a lover, a giver, a healer, with a heart of gold. Nobody can break that. I have visions and messages from Him to share. God knows my eyes have seen and heard many things and stories to tell. I write about them and continue to do so.

So I let these people in my life who have took me away from myself and I came right back where I started.

But I learned who I am now. And they love me too. We'll always remember each other, no matter what. I won't forget you.

Trust me I've tried a 1,000 times already lol 😁 Good luck to you both.

[toongrrl-blog]

Pink Power Rankings (Pt. 1)

Hi I am here to look at famous pink outfits in film and TV history and figure out: is pink a power color for this character? I choose to leave out obvious ones like Pink Power Ranger because, duh it’s in her name and this is gonna be a long list. Also avoiding real-life figures and onscreen depictions of real life figures because keeping it short (and I don’t have the time)

Pictured above are the bridesmaids at First Daughter Luci Baines Johnson’s wedding in the 1960s. 

Mimi Tachikawa

She is the most obvious pick from Digimon and the girl most decked out in pink. To paraphrase this video from The Take: there was once a show about a strange world beyond our own, somehow a group of preteens were pulled into this world not of their accord, including a young 10 year old girl. Along with her friends they were exposed to the elements and fought monsters out to harm them, she was sexually harassed by two clearly adult digimon, uncomfortable with the elements, often had to put up with toxic masculine BS, and was often snarked at by the story and even some of her own friends for being so girly and into pink. Of course some audiences and the story were overcome with sympathy with this girl pulled away from a familiar world...

Just kidding! They weren’t and some audiences even gave her a lot of shit and this has only been recently examined. For a while Mimi Tachikawa had a problem that seemed to be well known by a lot of female characters, like Carmella Soprano, Betty and Megan Draper, Margaret Sterling, and yes Skyler White. Put a flawed, complicated woman character alongside more charismatic (and male) characters and she will be disliked (despite the audience being more likely to be she than the menfolk held up as icons). 

This is sad because looking back, Mimi was truly a badass all along: she sticks up for herself, speaks up for herself, she is unapologetic about her love of pink and girly things, she is quick to tell guys when they are getting in her space, she’s honest, she lets Tanemon go on and fight with only a sincere question if she really is going to while the others hold their Digimon down, she stands up against the Numemon who were harassing her and her friends, and she was funny as hell. Sadly it took a long while for fans to grow up but many of us, especially girls, reclaimed her as our own. It also helped that Mimi came before girly icons like Elle Woods, Leslie Knope, and Joan Holloway and also before the boom in Gen X and Millennial women contributing to comedy and starting their own stand-up specials and movies and TV.

Power Ranking: 10, all because she held her own, no matter the haters and was glad to see us no matter how odd. 

Karen Wheeler

Another complicated lady, this time older and from the 1980s. This is Karen Wheeler of Hawkins, Indiana whose children are off on their own adventure. She is trying to tap into her sexual power here. It’s dicey because the man in question is a young man and she is a unhappily married affluent housewife in the suburbs; she agrees to meet him at the motel for “private swimming lessons” and does herself up in a way inappropriate for swimming lessons (in Scarlet Letter Red to boot!), only to be stopped by the sight of her lazy husband sleeping on the Laz-E-Boy with their youngest child Holly on his chest. This season sees Karen open up to her two older children over the patriarchy and saying goodbye to a best friend and girlfriend after confessing his love for her.

Power Ranking: 6, because her sexual power was on shaky ground and only based on her looks and attention from a man but she shows some character development that season. 

Nancy Wheeler

This look was a game changer, but Nancy is no stranger to pink and preppiness. Here she is wearing an outfit that recalls the postwar “Boyfriend Shirt” from Brooks Brothers for the female collegiate set and it’s updated with long loose but pinned hair and designer (or mock) jeans. In this outfit she goes monster hunting with her younger brother Mike’s best friend’s older brother and Nancy’s classmate, Jonathon Byers and squares off with slut-shaming police officers and a mother who chastises her for lying about her whereabouts and losing her virginity while Nancy’s best friend Barb Holland is missing and she also tells off boyfriend Steve for trying to cover his ass by not participating in the police investigation. This is the look (which can easily double as office wear) when you want to go straight from school where you have an impeccable GPA to monster hunting in your neck of the woods to find the whereabouts of your best friend and for fighting the patriarchy. 

Power Ranking: 8, this is a girl on the move as we can see with her rolled up sleeves. 

Eleven

The Iconic Look, the look where she made a boy wet his pants, found two missing kids, broke a bully’s arm. The Polly Flinders dress would alter the way we see girls in dainty pastel pink dresses. 

Power Ranking: 10, can you do all that without touching someone?

Barb Holland

The most tragic look for this was the sweater that Barbara Holland (1967-1983) wore when she was taken by the Demogorgan and killed. This was the look where she was the recipient of a wet willie from a boy who looked down on her and her best friend who was dating his popular friend, the look where she accompanied her best friend reluctantly to the popular boy’s party, and where her friend turned her back on her concerns. This is the look of a passive and traditional (to her detriment) femininity. She did gain a huge following who cried foul over her fate. 

Power Ranking: 4, points up for the fandom and devotion but she wasn’t empowered. 

Erica Sinclair

That was depressing, let’s go to the girl who embodies America: Hawkins resident wise-ass, the girl who kept her observations and words as tight as her corn rows, and her planning as precise as her perfectly well done baby hairs (Black readers, feel free to correct me as I document her fabulousness), My Little Pony nerd and Economics wonk, and American Heroine. Erica sassed her way into Stranger Things with a raised eyebrow and a lusciously girly girl wardrobe that stands out and fits in with her Midwestern environment. She’s no stranger to pink and she commands attention and the best service at Scoops Ahoy and manages to get several ice cream dishes for free (the most elaborate ones) before getting in on finding the secret Soviet military base. Girlfriend manages to deal with teenage shenanigans, assassins, creatures from another world, near-death experiences, almost being captured by foreign enemies and the most awkward sing-a-long ever. She doesn’t seem to have lost her child-appropriate enthusiasm for games even when telling off old balding men for getting her age right.

Power Ranking: 10, you can’t spell America without Erica

Joan Holloway

Pink is an appropriate color for the resident femme intellectual of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, it shows that Joan is willing to defy “the rules” of fashion for redheads (she also wears red) and it ties into her 1950s persona of the bombshell who is trying to get married to a man who’d move her out to the upper-middle class suburbs and she wouldn’t have to work. That was Joan at the beginning: over time she started to own her natural independent streak and her willingness to buck expectations of her based on her gender and looks but also deals with the same men who ogle her, disrespecting her intellect, her hard work ethic, and even her body (fuck you Greg Harris). In this fuchsia number (still in the pink family), she sets up a luncheon with a colleague (Peggy Olson) where she pitches the idea of them setting up a production company with their names, while Peggy didn’t take, Joan starts her own “Holloway & Harris” with her babysitter and mother. Sealing her end as a strong, productive, independent woman who learned to own herself as she was. 

Power Ranking: 10, men may like scarves but women like not being tethered to men. 

Betty Draper Francis

Meet Elizabeth Hofstadt Francis and her ex-husband Don Draper (actually Dick Whitman), for about 10 years of marriage, they have enjoyed a union where they looked like a couple right out of a magazine, he being a square jawed handsome self-made man with an athletic build who often is compared to old-school movie stars like Tyrone Power or Clark Gable or Cary Grant and she, a beautiful model from a wealthy family in the Main Line area of Philadelphia who studied anthropology at Bryn Mawr and speaks fluent Italian and is often compared to Grace Kelly (and other Hitchcock Blondes). But the interior of their perfect colonial in the suburbs hid an ugly reality where she suffered from ennui and was a brat to her kids while he gaslighted and cheated on her with other women, more modern women, like she wasn’t enough. Eventually she found out his true identity and floored that she had been living a lie and gave up her last name for an imposter, she divorced him and married a man she met at her husband’s work function. 

About three years later, Don is happily married with a younger and much more modern woman (Megan Draper) while Betty is married to a man who loves and accepts her even at her worst but to her chagrin has put on a lot of weight (a blow to a former model who grew up being raised that weight gain or being fat was the worst thing a woman could be) and she hasn’t dealt with her unhappiness in a productive manner. 

For a while well into 1968, she accepted the extra pounds (although looking like she lost some) and coming middle-age and even dyed her hair black, until her new husband tells her he plans to run for office and as he was excitedly recounting what is to be done, says “Everyone will see you” not knowing that his young, vain wife would read this scenario differently and after assessing her new look to an old evening gown of her’s, she sped up her weight loss and returned to her slim and blonde look that turned heads. Soon she takes a drive to her son’s summer camp and runs into her ex-husband and they feel the old spark and sleep together; it is there she tells him that he as a lover is different than him as a husband and admits about the young wife she looked down on, “That Poor Girl, she doesn’t know that loving you is the worst thing to get to you”. Next morning she has breakfast with her new husband, who is none the wiser, while Don heads back to the city. But is Betty really happy?

Power Ranking: 7, not satisfied but has received some closure about her relationship with her ex-husband. 

Sally Draper

This is Sally in her birthday party dress. On that day her father built her a pastel colored playhouse, Mother prepared treats for the adults and kids for her birthday party, she and her friends played out their parents’ (admittedly shitty) marriages at the playhouse, her father goes out to get her birthday cake from the bakery and returns only with a golden retriever named Polly, while her unhappy mother fumes about her husband doing something shitty and humiliating and not being allowed to ream him out because he brought a dog and that makes him the good guy. 

Power Ranking: 5, she gets a dog but is still young and dependent on her messy parents. 

Rachel Menken

Meet Rachel Menken Katz, running into her ex Don Draper while he is out with his latest mistress and she with her husband Tilden Katz. She would end this series as dying from cancer after having two young children and running her father’s department store and instead of flowers, requesting that donations be made for a Jewish hospital in the Jell-O Belt. In 1960 she fell in love with an ad man who proved to have been miserable and having lost his mother during his birth, as she did, she also competed in what was called “a man’s world” at a time when women were relegated to assistant roles at best and she split from him when he wants to run away with her, mostly because he wants to run away from his issues and not because of his feelings for her. As her sister Barbara said, “she had everything”.

Power Ranking: 8, she ends up dying young but she manages to “have it all”. 

Megan Draper

Meet Megan Calvet, later to become Megan Draper. How does she become the next Mrs. Draper? At this timeline, Don Draper is dealing with life after divorcing Betty Draper (now Francis) and is trying (and failing) to quit alcohol and trying to date the intelligent, warm, no-nonsense, and close-to-his-age Dr. Faye Miller. But that night Megan, who noticed she caught her boss’s eye, decides to make the moves and in a uncharacteristically demure (many fans thought she looked frumpy here) but at worst basic outfit, she sleeps with him. This is the outfit for a quickie that later won his heart and has him pop the question and she becomes part of Creative at their work. But is this really for the best?

Power Ranking: 7, she married Don Draper but then again she married Don Draper. 

Peggy Olson

Meet Peggy Olson, who officially walked away from the things holding her back from feeling at ease with herself and her choices. After a whole season where the priest impressed by her skills has learned that Peggy had a child out of wedlock and put him up for adoption and starts pressuring her to admit her “sin” while Peggy would rather move on with her life, she tells him they don’t see eye to eye and walks away from the Catholic Church and while the Cuban Missile Crisis is going on, she lays down in her bed with the pink comforter and pillows with her pink floral nightgown, she lays herself down to sleep and prays with a contented look on her face.

Power Ranking: 9, she’s not fully absolved of the issues plaguing her but refusing to wear a hairshirt and beat herself up? Awesome. 

Dawn Chambers

Meet Dawn Chambers, from 1966-1968, she was the only black person (let alone black secretary) at the uber-white Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce (pun intended for the decor) and like many minorities in positions occupied by less marginalized people, Dawn had to keep her head low and not stand out (despite some co-workers considering her as remarkable as a sore thumb). But then in 1968, she made the mistake of punching in for a co-worker and they get caught by Joan Holloway (and it’s so horrid, thank God Don Draper intervened on Dawn’s behalf and Pete reminds them of how the ad agencies are being looked at for their minority quotas). This was also the season where Dawn took to wearing blazers over her blouses and skirts or dresses and here Dawn is wearing a conservative grey blazer over a pink shirt with ruffles down the front and a red plaid skirt when her work life alters for the...better? It is there that Joan sternly gives her the promotion of keeper of the keys, title not pay, and Dawn tells her that she decided she doesn’t care whether other people in the office hate her but she doesn’t want to disappoint Joan, who withholds any warmth or approval. The next season we see Dawn stand up to a entitled and mediocre white man (Lou Avery) and first she is moved to reception and then she takes over Joan’s post as Office Manager (With her own office! And the salary!) while Joan goes upstairs to her own office in Accounts. 

Power Ranking: 10, this is a big fucking deal for a Black Woman in a mostly-White corporate setting during the 1960s. 

Trudy Campbell

1970, Trudy Vogel Campbell has remarried her estranged husband Pete and they are moving out to Wichita, Kansas with their young daughter Tammy where he will work a plush job for Lear Jet (and they are being flown out by them!). 

For the past ten years, Trudy and Pete have had a difficult marriage where he was dissatisfied with the choices he made and that he really didn’t want to marry her, and Trudy had to deal with being a woman with fertility issues at a time when motherhood was seen as a primary goal for women and women who didn’t have kids or chose not to were seen as weird at best. They had to deal with pressure from her father to adopt, his parents snotty issues, she had to deal with her husband’s attitude, his envy of others, and his cheating. But Trudy laid her boundaries and was able to stand up to her husband, without losing her gracious manner and her zest for society. She tried to be a supportive wife and she found some common ground with him, when it comes to common decency and politics, and they make an amazing pair on the dance floor. 

Then came the end after their divorce: they behave more amicably, he’s more involved with their young daughter, he fights for Trudy, and he gives an amazing pitch for her to come back. She takes him back but lets him know that she isn’t the same girl he married a decade before and she looks at things for how they are. 

Plus she is gonna rule Wichita!

Power Ranking: 8, she accepts there will be compromises but states her boundaries and has them met and will be a society wife. 

Elle Woods

Who shows up in court in LA hot sandals, a pink tote bag for her canine companion Bruiser, long glossy hair, and a curve-hugging but professional power dress in shocking pink? Elle Woods. After trying hard to be taken seriously by her fuckboi ex Warner and her snotty, neutral toned Harvard classmates and learning that her Professor got her in an internship for a important lawcase (where they defend her fellow Sorority Sister) just for her looks, she leans into both her natural intelligence, expertise, and love of pink and all things girly to defend her friend and solve the case. 

Also can we talk about how both Legally Blonde and Bridget Jones’s Diary are both movies where the attractive blonde protagonist is humiliated by showing up for a costume party in a Playboy Bunny costume under false pretenses and she deals with sexual harassment and being underestimated regarding her intellect? But LB ages better because it kinda pokes fun at the beauty myth more and is more inter-sectional and Elle finds supportive women to add to her posse of supportive sisters and she supports other women in turn.

Power Ranking: 10, Sisterhood and owning your personality quirks and interests and boldly defending others is always a win. Case Dismissed. 

Lorelei Lee

The ultimate Pink Power icon and the one who set the path for all femme-y and cute loving blonde protagonists with wit and ambition. This is the song for a woman who sings about how transactional heteronormative relationships in the mid-century were and how the performative actions of men in heterosexual relationships don’t do much to improve women’s lives, like paying the rent and that they would use women for their own uses and could be shallow enough to dump women if they lost their beauty and/or got older, so for insurance make sure you get money or rather things that can be hocked and worn with pride, like diamonds. Tom & Lorenzo covered this in their One Iconic Look series and this sequenced has been spoofed several times in Hey Arnold!, Crazy-Ex Girlfriend, Birds of Prey, and most famously by Madonna, and it is the look for women who not only feel good about their curves but also want to show them off.  As T&Lo said about the ditzy Lorelai and her savvier friend Dorothy Malone (Jane Russell):

These women were all about power, control, and looking out for each other. Men were side stories or play things.

And in the repressive Fifties it was outrageously pink and smelt of female sexual power (pink pussies). 

Power Ranking: 11, hawwwwwwww that’s what you get for having an iconic and referenced look!

Marge Simpson

The most nostalgically remembered outfit in cartoons and the most written about in think pieces and articles by Millennial women who grew up watching The Simpsons and the rest of what the Animation Renaissance had to offer. In “Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield”, the family goes out to the outlet mall in Ogdenville where Marge and Lisa happen upon a beautiful pink Chanel suit that even left my cartoon-apathetic mother enthusiastic and Marge is soon seen by a old high school friend who mistakes her for being wealthy and Marge goes along with the ruse and is invited to Country Club activities with the ladies where she shows up in several talented alterations of her suit (until getting destroyed by Santa’s Little Helper, RIP Iconic suit), she also gives her family a hard time about how they don’t fit into that Country Club Scene and then when forced to see how she hurt them (and even Baby Maggie), turns around and tells them she loves Homer’s sense of humor, Lisa’s compassion and outspoken human rights politics, and just loves Bart (even if she can’t figure what she likes about him). 

This also happens to be another instance where Marge sacrifices a social life (she’s not seen with a lot of friends who have her back, aside from a brief time with Ruth Powers), chances for social mobility, and her own self-improvement for her family. While we love a mother who prioritizes her family’s autonomy, we still kind of hope that she didn’t have to sacrifice her own identity for her family. 

Power Ranking: 8, points for the iconic suit and it’s layered meanings. 

Bridget Jones

A rare move of power for a normally powerless and insecure woman and in a shocking pink blouse and black slacks that show off her hourglass curves and go with her coloring. 

Pink is not a color Bridget isn’t familiar with, especially with this deleted scene that shows her in Pink Passivity (and it looks delicate on a blonde with blue eyes and pale skin but could risk her fading but I as a brunette would look popping!). But here after entering a relationship with Daniel Cleaver (who is a walking red flag) and finding out he was keeping her as his side-ho to his skinny, bitchy American girlfriend and colleague and I have my problems with Bridget Jones as a series (which would take several parts) and I can talk about how Peggy Olson and Joan Holloway were a lot better written versions of her (klutziness and awkwardness but succeeding!). But this is a huge power move where Bridget wears a simple outfit that owns her looks (even being affirmed by a older and previously antagonistic co-worker that she’s actually thinner than the average woman and she can’t back down, like ever) and is able to quit her job for a better and more glamorous job and tell off her ex-boyfriend for how poorly he has treated her. And all her co-workers smile off as she walks off in triumph after telling Daniel she’d rather wipe Saddam Hussein’s ass. I kinda wish I could go Joan Rivers on Daniel here. 

Also points on that bolder shade of pink. 

Power Ranking: 10, no one gets to burn a cheating, manipulative bridge like that (and yes she is conventionally prettier than I but that’s not the point). 

Alice Macray

I know, I should shut my mouth and wear beige but my personal color analysis says I’m a winter person.

It’s an interesting power move, albeit within the confines of patriarchal society and even the only defiance that wouldn’t get her tsked at because she is serving the Male Gaze. And yet it’s a natural part of her characterization in this part of the series: the traditional housewife stubbornly keeping her pedestal and fighting to stall progress for other women pursuing other paths (part of wearing beige and shutting up as Mother of the Groom is to allow the Bride to take center stage) but it’s also a path she had to take what with being a dyslexic in a less informed and intolerant era and growing up in a sheltered, conservative Catholic family. This is also the outfit she wears when she spots a younger wife being forcibly yanked by her husband, alluding that the patriarchy isn’t benevolent. 

This isn’t her first time in pink, or even a pink and blue combination: she wears pink when she goes and gives out bread to defeat the feminists at the Illinois Legislature, she wears pink and blue when Bella Abzug calls on her and her peers’ hypocrisy, she drinks a Pink Lady when she is given a “Christian Pill” and it matches her lavender dress. It’s also ironic: pink, white, and blue are the colors of the Transgender pride flag and she is defending White Heternormative Cisnormative Christian Values TM and it’s also a color combo that shows up in the beauty parlor she frequents where she and her friends wring their hands over working women gaining more ground and feeling that their comfortable privilege is being taken away by women who sully their hands working outside the home while they stay home with their children in their coordinated pastels and have maids of color keep their worlds nice and orderly. 

But she is wearing a pink maxi dress with a high neckline and a very prominent hat that provides very ladylike shade for her fair skin, just like our first Pink Power Girl Mimi Tachikawa, and like Mimi, Alice will take a life-altering short trip to Wonderland. And like Pink Power Girl Eleven, she finds her true hidden power and starts wearing more saturated colors as time goes on. 

Power Ranking: 5, she is on her way to breaking out of her little safe world and doing more than subverting a wedding tradition. 

[tealin]

The Story of the Discovery Hut

You may have noticed that last week I breezily mentioned a visit to Scott's Discovery Hut as though it were just another class on the schedule. It most definitely was not! Wandering around one of the principal locations of the Terra Nova Expedition – of the whole of Heroic Age Antarctic history – was the pinnacle of the sensory overload of my first 36 hours on the continent, not least because the grubby old Discovery Hut is one of the least well documented sites, so most of it was completely new to me. To visit the other locations on my itinerary, I needed one or another sets of training, but Hut Point is only a short walk from McMurdo Station on solid ground, so my coordinator was keen to get me there as soon as possible.

My first full day in Antarctica was the coldest of the whole trip. I noted in my journal that it was -4°F/-20°C – I don't recall if that was with wind chill or without, but it was definitely windy that day, so you can imagine. The previous day's flurries were still blowing around, so the atmosphere was properly polar, and for the first time I was glad I had brought the heavy-duty boots that had been such a boulder in my luggage.

The Discovery Hut is named such because it was built on the Discovery Expedition, in early 1902 when the ship had found its permanent berth in the small bay at the end of the southernmost peninsula of Ross Island. The bay was imaginatively dubbed Winter Quarters Bay, and the spit of land adjacent to it was called Hut Point, the creativity of which was extended to the whole Hut Point Peninsula. The hut itself had been picked up in Australia, where it was a flat-pack prefab intended to be transported to the Outback and used to house cattlemen as they drove herds across the country. As such, it was designed to shed heat – not an ideal feature in an Antarctic dwelling, but it was never intended to be lived in, rather to serve as a warehouse and emergency shelter should anything happen to the ship. Subsequent expeditions used it more than the Discovery did, because of its proximity to the permanent ice of the Barrier, which made it a key staging point for any southward travel. They all complained of it being uncomfortably cold inside.

And it was cold. Not that I noticed much, beyond corroborating historical reports that it somehow seemed colder inside the hut than outside. Antarctic cold is a funny thing: You are certainly aware that it is cold, but it is a surface sensation only, and doesn't feel as severe as the thermometer says it is. Skin exposed to the air registers the fact it is cold, but even at -20 it didn't go any deeper than that. Compared to the seeping, insidious cold of a damp British morning or an air-conditioned animation studio cubicle, which disregards layers and seems to chill you from the inside out, -20 in Antarctica is really quite comfortable, if you're dressed properly and sheltered from the wind. I barely noticed how cold it was until the tips of my gloved fingers started tingling, which I observed with some perplexity until I remembered the temperature. At that moment I understood how one could get frostbite without noticing, because one's outermost extremities could suffer while one's internal thermostat was still reading as perfectly warm, if not hot. Hence the practice of deliberate, conscious reminders every few minutes to observe the state of one's feet – they would be all too easy to overlook, otherwise.

Lithium ion batteries don't much like the cold, and unlike human bodies they neither generate their own heat nor have a core heat bank to rely on. I got a few photos that first visit, but my phone died as I was taking a video, so I decided to leave the image harvest to another day. The photos in this post are mostly from later (warmer) visits, when electronics were functioning fully and I'd got over the initial awe of being there.

But before I can give you a photographic tour of the Discovery Hut, I need to fill you in on the history, so that you know what you're looking at when you see it, as I did.

As I said before, the hut was built during the Discovery Expedition but hardly used except for storage and, occasionally, a theatre. The next expedition in town was Shackleton's Nimrod Expedition, which arrived in early 1908. The sea ice that year was much more extensive than it had been in 1902, and the furthest south that the Nimrod could anchor was at Cape Royds, twenty miles north of Hut Point. Shackleton had been on the Discovery, though, and knew there were a lot of good things left in the little square hut across the ice, so he sent a raiding party to scavenge some of them and bring them back to Cape Royds. When they arrived, they couldn't get the door open, so they broke a window to get in, which was never repaired. After it had served its purpose as launching point for southern journeys and the Nimrod left McMurdo Sound, the hut filled up with drifted snow which compacted into ice.

When Scott arrived in the Terra Nova – which was also barred from Hut Point by sea ice and so had settled at Cape Evans, fifteen miles north – he found the broken window and the interior of the hut one solid block of ice. This did not do much to improve his opinion of Shackleton. The depot-laying party pushed on south with their supplies, but Atkinson, who had got an infected blister on his heel and couldn't continue marching, was left at Hut Point with Tom Crean; while the depot party was away, they employed themselves in clearing the ice from the hut. Once that was done, they used biscuit cases and the discarded winter awning from the Discovery to build a smaller chamber within the single room, which would hold the heat better, and improvised a blubber stove from discarded bricks and metal in the Discovery's rubbish heap. There are lots of seals around Hut Point so blubber was a self-supplying fuel, as opposed to the very limited quantity of coal which had been brought down by the ship.

The only way to reach Cape Evans from Hut Point is over the sea ice, and by the time the depot party returned, that had all broken up and gone out to sea. (I am glossing over The Sea Ice Incident. Check it out if you want some crazy adventure.) There was nothing for it but to wait at Hut Point for the sea ice to freeze again, which took from the beginning of March to mid-May. This was, as yet, the longest period of occupation for the hut, and was full of tinkering to make the place more liveable. Everyone devised what they thought was the best model of blubber lamp: whatever the design, it smoked with a thick black soot which added to the smoke from the blubber stove. As a result the hut was often thick with smoke and everyone looked like chimney sweeps before long. Crean and Atkinson had done a massive job clearing out the block of ice in the main room, but there was still ice in the cavity between the ceiling and the roof which they could not access, and this dripped on the assembled crowd every time they got the hut above freezing, turning their reindeer skin sleeping bags into a soggy mess. Despite the soot, the 'snipe marsh,' and a diet limited to recombinations of biscuit, seal meat, and the odds and ends left over from previous expeditions, the men all had a roaring good time. Some of them even claimed, when all was said and done, that this was the best part of the expedition.

Just enough to eat and keep us warm, no more – no frills nor trimmings: there is many a worse and more elaborate life. The necessaries of civilization were luxuries to us: … the luxuries of civilization satisfy only those wants which they themselves create.

— Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World

The hut served its purpose again the following November as the jumping-off place for the great effort to reach the Pole. This is its classic role, and what it is best remembered for, when it is remembered at all, but something which I think gets lost and which adds a great deal to the emotional understanding of the place is that it's also the first taste of home for returning parties, the first solid walls after months of living in a tent. For both the First and Second Returning Parties it was a concrete assurance that they had made it, they were back to safety; it was only the matter of a day's walk to Cape Evans from there, which they did all the time. Like reaching one's own freeway exit after a long road trip, the Discovery Hut would be a welcome return to the familiar. It's the first comfort the Polar Party would have been pulling towards in their struggle to get home before the weather broke up for the winter.

But, as we know, they never got there. The next role of the Discovery Hut, and its most poignant, to me, is as the staging point for another southward journey, the one to meet the Polar Party with the dog teams. Atkinson had taken the dogs there after using them to help unload the ship at Cape Evans, but before he could leave he was co-opted to save the life of Teddy Evans , leader of the Second Returning Party, who was dying of scurvy not far away. Atkinson had to find a substitute, so he sent a message to Cape Evans requesting Wright, and if he was unavailable, Cherry-Garrard. Simpson, who was in charge back at Cape Evans, sent both to Hut Point, with the advice that Wright was needed for his particular scientific expertise and that it would be very inconvenient to lose him. So Wright was sent home, and Cherry was chosen to go south. He failed to meet the Polar Party; he and the dogs turned up back at the Discovery Hut exhausted, frostbitten, and unable to do any more work that season. Cherry spent a miserable purgatory in the hut with a strained heart and broken wrist, delirious on painkillers and tormented by the howling wind and fighting dogs, gradually coming to realise that his friends were never coming home.

When the Terra Nova finally left Antarctica for good, they left a large depot of food at Hut Point for whoever might come after, an act of generosity whose prescience was not long in the proving. Shackleton's Endurance Expedition is famous for the ship getting crushed in the ice and the last-chance boat voyage to South Georgia to find rescue. Fewer people know that that expedition had another half: a smaller contingent of men were sent to the Ross Sea to lay depots for the Endurance party to pick up as they crossed the Antarctic continent, which was the expedition’s original raison d’etre. They had what can only be described as a mindblowingly horrible time. It started with their ship being blown off its anchor at Cape Evans and out to sea before it had been fully unloaded, and got much worse from there. Winter clothing had to be improvised from a heavy canvas tent left by the Terra Nova Expedition, and they depended largely on the food that had been left at Cape Evans and Hut Point two years previously. By supreme effort they succeeded in laying the depots required of them, all the way to the Beardmore Glacier over 400mi/600km to the south, and suffered terribly from scurvy on the way back, one of them dying. The remainder narrowly scraped their way into the safety of the Discovery Hut, to recover their health and wait for the sea ice to freeze, but two decided prematurely that the greater comfort of Cape Evans was worth the risk, and set out over the new ice, never to be seen again. It turned out that their suffering was entirely in vain, as the Endurance party, whose survival they expected to depend on their depots, never so much as set foot on the Antarctic continent.

These are the layers of history with which the Discovery Hut, and all the geography of McMurdo Sound, are imbued. It was one of my great privileges, while a guest of the USAP, to be a portal to the Heroic Age for many people who were mostly unaware of what had passed before the building of the American station. It's harder to transmit the tangible immediacy of the history via the internet, but I hope this and the next post will get you some of the way there.

[lou-is-creative]

Unpredictable (pt 8)

ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ: 6 Underground

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: Four/Billy // Eight/???

ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ: Four/Billy x male!Oc

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7: Other plans

ꜱᴏɴɢ:  Death of me - SAINT PHNX

𝔹𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥!

AN: Pic isn’t mine, sorry this took so long, have fun!!

TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!!! VIOLENCE !!!!!!!!!!!!

Eight had stopped his car in front of a small bridge. He and the others observed the scenery quietly.

Six security men were eying the car suspiciously, while holding their guns a little tighter. One of them, who seemed to be a little bit lost and unsure, was pushed forward to do a check up.

The ghost opened his window, putting on a slightly frightened face to maintain his image.

"Hello?"

He greeted the stranger and the other looked quite happy to not be the only one who didn't quite know what was going on.

"Who are you and what do you want? This bridge is private property."

"Uhhhh I am.. Jacob, I want to visit Amanda... But I guess I'm at the wrong address?"

The man in front of him started to relax a bit.

"Oh okay, you're Jacob. Well that is something different. We were told that you'd come here. Not exactly that you'd come with such a cool car, but we knew you'd come"

Eight smiled, genuinely happy he found someone else who liked his car. Five groaned.

"You like it? It's brand new."

"It looks very nice. And- oh, you have a watch in the same colour?"

The guy asked and the proud owner of the matching watch on his wrist looked at it, smiling cheekily.

"I do, yeah. Thought it looked great together."

Now even the guy with the gun started to look rather interested than business like.

"It does, so what model is it exactly?"

He let his gun sink and eventually even put it away to take a better look at the interior design of said car.

"Mercedes C-class, AMG of course. Engine too. Maybe I can show you later, if we have some time left"

The boy in the car let the guy look, completely aware of what he was doing, as he heard a familiar voice speaking. Familiar, but not necessarily liked.

"Eight stop talking about your fucking car, no one cares."

Not letting anyone see how pissed he was, the newest member of the group just smiled it off.

"You'd do that? It would be awesome."

"Of course, but only if I have the time. Could be that I gotta rush back, if you understand. But it would be nice for next time!"

He looked at his watch shortly.

"God, I really have to go, can I pass? I swear we're gonna talk again after all of this but I really have to leave."

Eight raised his hand to say good-bye and the security man stepped aside, giving his colleagues a sign to let him pass.

"By the way..."

Eight started his engine and looked at the security man one last time, smiling softly.

"Keep that up, you're doing a good job. I was shit scared to be honest."

And the smile he got back was the most sincere the man with the gun could offer. A quiet 'thank you' left his mouth before Eight passed the bridge. It was one of his talents to know exactly what a person needed to hear.

"Thank god you're finally done."

He heard Five groan and his hands immediately clenched around the steering wheel.

"Okay, that's enough. I know exactly how to do my job and I don't need your comments. So watch your mouth and focus on your own task."

It got very quiet for a moment in the room in which all the other ghosts were in. Everyone was holding their breath.

With Eights natural born gift, to know exactly what others wanted to hear, it wasn't very hard to determine ones weak spot. It does sound like something very practical, something good even, but paired with his lack of impulse control, it did more damage than anything else.

Just like it did at this exact moment. He started a war.

"Listen here, you little brat. If you knew how to do your job, I wouldn't have to say anything."

Five fired back and Four got tensed. He knew exactly how much of a bad idea it was to refer to Eight as little.

"Did you just call me little brat?"

"Are you deaf?"

"Oh no, my ears work very well I just figured you might be a little smarter than that. But seems like I was wrong."

"My mother told me to always tell the truth. And what are you besides an annoying little boy with a weird obsession with his car?"

"I think you need a snickers. You're being a bitch."

Before Five could say anything, One interfered.

"Concentrate on the mission, Eight. You can continue your quarrel later."

"She started it."

Eight stated.

"God how old are you two, twelve?"

Seven interfered and Five snapped once more.

"He is."

"Oh don't confuse your mental age with mine, honey."

"SHUT IT. Both of you."

The ghosts turned around. Four, who was sitting in the very back of the room, couldn't hold it anymore. He hated fights. They were stupid and totally unnecessary. And they also reminded him a lot of the things that happened in the past. He didn't need to see people fighting. Again.

Silence spread and Eight passed the second security stage. He pulled his car over to the parking spot he was guided to and stopped the engine before smoothly getting out of his car.  He didn't need to turn around to know that his girlfriend would rush over to him and nearly suffocate him with her hug. But he just chuckled lowly and turned to wrap his arms around the petite girl, pulling her close.

"I'm so happy to see you again."

He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head before hugging her even closer. She eventually let go and looked at him with shining eyes.

"Me too. God I'm so glad my dad took interest in the car you drive. Or else he wouldn't have invited you. He's obsessed with Mercedes, you know? So he wanted to see your car."

Eight hid his grin well and smiled instead before he laughed nervously, scratching his neck.

"Well I am very glad he has such a great taste in cars. And that I chose this one."

His eyes lingered on her slim figure.

"Is it just me or did you get even more beautiful?"

Amanda grinned a little and hit his shoulder.

"You're unbelievable."

She giggled as she checked him out from head to toe.

"You look decent. Like a guy my father would accept."

Eight chuckled softly and shook his head before he clapped his hands once.

"Great, it was the look I was going for. So, where do we go now? And should I be afraid? I mean after the two security check ups..."

"No, that's just routine, don't worry! Oh and, we should go inside before he thinks that you're late. That would be unfortunate. Come with me."

The blonde girl grabbed Eights hand and pulled him along. She was excited, he could tell. And so could the other ghosts.

Watching a person who was at the brink of falling in love was truly amazing. It was their energy, their smile, their way to express themselves which never failed to make others jealous. And so did Amanda.

She left an impression. Two and Three intertwined their fingers, Five glanced at Four and he couldn't help but smile back.

Maybe it was fate. Maybe all of this was supposed to happen. But no one would ever question Amandas role in this.

Eight, who now found himself in foyer of the mansion turned around a little, his eyes widened and his mouth opened a little.

"Wow it looks nice in here."

Amanda shrugged slightly as she looked around.

"It's good for a prison."

Eight turned to her and raised a brow.

"I mean, I'm locked up. My father will not let me go anywhere more than once a week."

"Are you in danger? Because that would explain the armed guys at the bridge."

"They aren't just at the bridge. They are literally everywhere. Well, not completely everywhere. I've convinced him to send them away from my rooms."

She told him proudly and Eight nodded shortly.

"So, will you show me your rooms later? I bet they look pretty."

"I think you're being a little too fast, young man."

Eight looked up and there, at the upper end of the stairs he stood. Jim Wright. Father of Amanda Wright, subject of this whole mission.

"That is why I used the term later, Sir."

Eight grinned a little as he faced the man who was now walking down the stairs to greet the two of them.

"My name is Jim Wright, or Mr. Wright for you. I'm Amandas father."

Eight shook the other mans hand and looked at him with a strong gaze.

"It's an honour to meet you, Sir. My name is Jacob."

"Strong handshake, I like that."

Mr. Wright looked at him until the boy gave in. The man then took his hand away and eyed the boy.

"I thought you'd be taller."

Eight bit back a growl and although he heard Five laugh, he didn't say anything to it.

"Well, I may not be tall, but height is no indicator for ones intelligence or future. And that's what really matters."

"Well said, well said. So, Jacob, what are your plans for the future?"

"Get a proper job, buy a house, maybe found a family, the usual stuff, Sir."

Again, he was eyed suspiciously but he didn't mind.

"And what would that proper job be?"

"Dad can't we talk about this while having lunch? I bet Jacob is hungry."

Amanda spoke up, being kind of annoyed by her father who just sighed and gave in.

The three of them walked upstairs and Eight grabbed her hand before he faced her shortly. The way she smiled told him more than a thousand words ever would.

She was falling for him. For the way he looked at her, the way he caressed her hand in his, the way he spoke to her with words so sweet.

But she didn't know him. She didn't know the man that held her hand. She didn't know the eyes that lingered on her. She didn't know the mouth that voiced all the sweet words she was longing to hear.

Because it was his decision what she saw. It was his decision to hide the man he really was. The boy that was devoured by anger and the desire for revenge. The person no one saw because it was no one anyone would want to see.

Still, there was good inside this mess. Even though, within the chaos of his being, he sometimes doubted that it was still there. Because he couldn't see it, he couldn't find it. But when he saw people laugh because of him, or smile, he knew it was still inside of him. A part of him. Although he would never see that it was bigger than the wish for revenge, the anger and despair. There was one person who would show him.

While Eight was completely into the mission, the other ghosts were focussing on other things. One, Five and Two had an eye on their youngest ghost while Three, Four and Seven were in the middle of a heated card game while drinking beer.

"Okay so, you think you're good, huh? Just because you have one card left?"

Seven asked before separating the cards in his hands in three different parts and placing them on the table.

"King, ace, one, two."

He stated and continued.

"Three queens."

Seven placed the next three cards on the table and Four and Three looked at him with a death glare. But that would never stop Seven from placing the cards he had left on his hand on the table before putting one of them aside.

"And seven, six and five. I won."

His grin was, again, bigger and wider than anything else.

"Oh come on, Seven you're cheating again."

Four complained, throwing the one card he had left on the table. Like a child who didn't get what it wanted for Christmas.

"In the job I used to do, cheaters were shot in the hand."

Three said and played with his gun while looking at Seven.

"No one gets shot in the hand in here, for fucks sake. What are we, a group of children?"

One interfered and Three placed his gun aside. Close enough to reach, of course, while he focussed on Seven.

"I didn't cheat. Not this time!"

"Of course you did! Wanker."

Four said and grabbed the deck before mixing it again.

"Why don't you believe me? I really didn't cheat this round!"

Seven defended himself and watched the blonde place the cards on the table again.

"That's why playing with you is no fun."

"He is right. Maybe we should play with the new kid instead."

Three said and Four nodded.

"Well, I think Four and the new kid are playing their very own games, Three."

Seven joked and the skywalker raised a brow.

"What do you mean?"

He asked and Three looked just as confused as Four.

"Oh, don't you play that little game where you test each other’s boundaries?"

While Sevens grin grew bigger, Fours cheeks heated up.

He was just about to say something, but he then paid attention to One.

"Eight don't do anything stupid now."

The voice of their leader sounded so serious, that even the three guys in the back were now completely concentrated on the monitors. They saw a room with a huge desk and various golden decorations. And they heard a door close and an exchanging of words.

"So, Sir, you wanted to talk to me alone, right?"

The tall man turned around and looked at the boy in front of him. He looked small and a little bit frightened.

"Yes I did."

"Good, because the two huge security guards make me really nervous."

Mr. Wright laughed a little and shook his head.

"They won't say anything, they will just stand there."

Eight turned around and looked at them in concern before he faced the father of his girlfriend again.

"But you said alone, not with two big guys waiting to strangle me. I think the strict father of the beautiful girl I am dating is frightening enough. Your whole person is enough authority to be scared."

And again, the young boy did know exactly what it was the man in front of him wanted to hear. All he needed to do was patting the guys ego. And the other gladly ate what Eight fed him.

"Well, I guess you are right. Sasha, Drake, you can take a break. Eat something or... Whatever."

The two big men who were covering the door walked out, keeping their faces straight.

Eight didn't pay much attention to them anymore, while the man made the mistake to turn his head towards the door.

It was already too late as he faced the boy in front of him again. His fate had already been sealed.

Eight, who took the opportunity to ram his knee in the others stomach and push him down on his knees, had now gotten out the small knife he had.

"One scream for help and your daughter will die."

He whispered as he gave the back of the man a strong kick so he'd face the ground, not being fast enough to catch himself with his hands.

"Eight ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND????"

One asked, voice as tensed as the speaker himself. The other ghosts were quiet. What on earth was the boy doing there?

"I assume you know what I need, and I suggest you give me the information I came for if you don't want to die."

If the guy wouldn't have been so afraid at this moment, all of that wouldn't have worked in the first place. But he was.

Eight knew enough to know it would be working. One had told him plenty of things and the way the man behaved only confirmed his assumptions.

He was a coward. Scared to die, no willpower, he was nothing. A no one. Someone who was intelligent enough to earn a lot of money but needed a sense in life to feel good. He needed to be part of something big to have at least a glimpse of power to him. Losing power, losing his grip was something the man was afraid of. But there was one thing he was more frightened of. Death. To lose his home, his daughter, his life.

And through that, Eight knew that thinking of the possibility to die scared him more than anything else.

"Give me the coordinates. Now."

"I- I don't have them!"

"Wrong answer."

Eight hummed and kicked the mans side. He whined in pain.

"Shh, don't be a pussy, you don't want your daughter to get hurt, don't you?"

"Don't- don't hurt her..."

"Start talking and I'll take it into consideration."

"The address is saved on my computer."

"Sounds good, why don't you go get it for me, hm?"

Eight grabbed the man by his shirt and pulled him up.

"Hands behind your head. Keep them where I can see them. Good."

He then led him to the computer and forced him to sit down on the chair before placing the beautiful blue knife on his throat.

"One try to make a noise and I will end your life right away."

The gulp of his victim was audible as he typed the password with shaking hands and searched for the address.

As soon as it was visible, One grabbed his smartphone and searched for the address via google street view.

"Thank god for technology."

He mumbled and took a closer look at the pictures he found. He was looking for one specific sign, a logo, that would confirm that it was the right information. And he wasn't left disappointed. The moment One found what he had been looking for, he turned to face the monitor.

"It's the right address, now get the fuck out of there so I can kick your ass for being such an idiot."

One advised and Eight slit the throat of the man with one swift motion, careful not to dirty himself.

"Shh, lie down, there you go."

The boy waited for his victim to give in to his fate and laid down his head on the table. It looked like he was asleep.

Satisfied with his work, he cleaned his knife on the black chair before he hid it under his dress shirt again.

He made his way to the door, ready to leave the place, as he heard footsteps approaching. The door he was hiding behind was opened and someone walked in.

Eights heart wasn't the only one that stopped for a mere second.

[letterboxd]

Milking It.

Peerless American filmmaker Kelly Reichardt talks to Ella Kemp about her new film, First Cow, her favorite animal performers, and getting down to the nitty gritty of things.

We’re resharing this post to mark the arrival of ‘First Cow’ on VOD. The interview took place timed to the original release of the film in March, prior to the coronavirus pandemic.

With little fuss, Kelly Reichardt has been making some of the most tender and thoughtful films about American loneliness for decades. The quietly acclaimed director, writer and film lecturer began her feature career in 1994 with River of Grass, a runaway story of a couple caught in a tragedy, and now celebrates her ten-title milestone as a filmmaker by gifting the world the peaceful and moving portrait of another pair of nomads in First Cow.

Reichardt has earned her reputation as one of the most impressive and reliable American filmmakers with knockouts including the stripped-back heartbreaker, Wendy and Lucy and the stunning portrait of feminine isolation and frustration, Certain Women. There is always a common thread—and there is often Michelle Williams—but then, also, each film is a rich, vivid new tale that feels like it belongs to you and no one else.

Based on the 2004 novel The Half-Life, written by Reichardt’s frequent collaborator Jonathan Raymond, First Cow has been coming together for over a decade, and feels like the culmination of Reichardt’s finest skills and sensibilities. The story follows Cookie (John Magaro) a taciturn cook travelling alongside fur trappers in 19th-century Oregon, whose ambition comes into focus when he meets King Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant. Together, they develop not only an essential friendship, but also a delicious business model, which involves slyly stealing milk from a cow owned by a wealthy landowner. It’s a film of subtle gestures, of deeply tender attentions, with a sharp eye across endless landscapes, and already has devoted fans on Letterboxd.

“I have never felt so well cared for by a movie,” writes Liz Shannon Miller in her Letterboxd review. Zachary Panozzo appreciates the way the film tackles American capitalism as a system, writing that “First Cow, in the most pleasant and honest way, calls bullshit on that.” And Phil Wiedenheft observes: “It feels—like all her work—so simple and elegant that it’s a wonder how [many] histrionics so many other filmmakers have to perform to end up saying less.” And, everyone wants those butter-honey biscuits.

First Cow premiered at the Telluride Film Festival last year and went on to the New York Film Festival shortly after, before impressing European audiences last month in competition at the 2020 Berlinale.

Sharing memories of the writers who shaped her movies, the first film that proved that cinema could show a different view of the world, and the greatest animal performers of all time, Reichardt chats with our London correspondent, Ella Kemp.

Orion Lee as King-Lu and John Magaro as Cookie in ‘First Cow’.

How did you choose where to strip The Half-Life back, to get to a film-sized story? Kelly Reichardt: The novel goes through four decades and they sail to China, so it was way outside the realm of what we could do. It also has a contemporary thread, and that just became a prologue and we settled into the 1820s. We found the main mechanism, the cow, which doesn’t exist in the novel—in the novel they’re selling the oil from beaver glands to China. So once we had the narrative element of the cow, we could work our own way into the script while still using a lot of the themes and stories from John’s novel. And the other thing John did, which was great, was to combine two characters from the novel. King Lu is actually a fusion of two people in the novel.

On paper, First Cow might seem like a straightforward Western but in practice it feels much softer. How do you see it in terms of genre? I didn’t feel any limits by a genre, and I wasn’t really thinking of it as a ‘big W’ Western. I actually see it as a heist film if anything. When I made Meek’s Cutoff, we were dealing with bonnets and wagons and the desert and people crossing West. That felt like having to deal with the whole history of the Western while we set up the camera, but I didn’t feel like that at all here. I just felt like we were telling an intimate story about two people. We were in the minutiae of trying to find out as much as we could about the Multnomah tribes that lived on the Columbia river, and we had fashioned Toby Jones’ character—the Chief Factor—after John McLoughlin in the [retail business group] Hudson’s Bay Company. It was more about researching the beaver trade and definitely taking artistic liberties, while also really trying to stay pretty true in the details to the period. It was such a little world we were building, I didn’t really have the feeling that I was confined in a genre at all.

Kelly Reichardt. / Photo by Jens Koch courtesy Berlinale

You work with outdoor landscapes a lot, particularly in Oregon. There are similarities with Meek’s Cutoff but also with Wendy and Lucy—the nomadic loners, the animal companion… What keeps you coming back to these places? I’ve actually worked outdoors much more than I’ve worked indoors. It’s really the indoors which was really fun to shoot here, because with Tony Gasparro, who was the production designer on First Cow, he and I were able to design these cottages and interiors and build around what [we] wanted to shoot, which is really great and a first for me. But outdoors is where I’m usually mostly shooting. It was recognizable to me at different points in the film that we were recalling Old Joy and Meek’s Cutoff and Wendy and Lucy. It was like the ‘Best Of’ of my movies.

There were some echoes of the other films for sure. It’s interesting to think how that’s happened. Because really, John’s novel The Half-Life is the first thing I ever read of his, and I wrote to him asking if he had any short stories—because I knew the novel was too big back in 2004—and he sent me Old Joy, the short story, which became the first thing we did together. But in between all that we’d been musing together for a decade, whenever there’s a lull in whatever we’re working on, we’d ask ourselves how we could do The Half-Life. It’s been cooking on the back burner for a long time, so maybe it’s bled into other films along the way.

Would you ever consider working in the city? I’m definitely ready to do something contemporary. It could be anything. I will just say on the practical side I do enjoy going away with a crew and feeling somewhat off the grid while making a film, separate from everyday life. When you say a city, I immediately think of New York. Never say never, but it’s just the practicalities of it… even if you can hire the crew you want, it doesn’t jump out at me as the most inviting thing.

In First Cow, your central characters are two men. Did you encounter different things in delving into male psychology after shaping so many rich female characters across your filmography? I don’t think of it in terms of gender, more in terms of personality. Maile Meloy’s short stories that I was working off for Certain Women focus on isolated women, a theme in some of her writing. But it’s really more about getting down to details on all levels of filmmaking for me. You have at some point the bigger picture, but I like to get down to the nitty gritty of things, in the story I’m telling and the people I’m making the story about and not worry about what gender anybody is. It’s more about who are these characters. A big draw to The Half-Life was that the Cookie character was so great. King Lu was totally fascinating as well. So it was more about keeping track of what they wanted, what they were to each other in the minute-by-minute, more even than in the big sense.

Lucy, the very good girl in Reichardt’s ‘Old Joy’.

Evie, the titular cow, is a terrific performer. What is your favorite animal performance on film? Oh god… Lucy! My own beautiful dog in Old Joy (2006), actually. No, of course there’s others. The animal that probably made the biggest impression on me as a kid was in Mike Nichols’ The Day of the Dolphin (1973). That dolphin was everything. You’re always afraid the animals are going to come to some demise. There’s [Vincente] Minnelli’s Home from the Hill (1960), which has the tragic hunting dog there. But it’s such a beautiful film. Whenever a film is named after the animal, you know it’s bad news for the animal.

Do you have a favorite film to teach your students? I’ve been teaching since 1998 so I wouldn’t call anything a favorite, but one film I’ve used in a sound class a lot is the opening scene of McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971), where we’re just listening to the sound, and we turn off the image and the students describe the space. And so by doing that over the years I have René Auberjonois’ voice so firmly planted in my head, as he’s the bartender in the opening scene. I had the great pleasure of working with him on Certain Women and we wrote a little part for him [in] First Cow where he’s the cranky guy in town with the raven.

What is the film that made you want to be a filmmaker? When I was a kid and I saw Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) on TV, and there was a scene on a beach at night that happened in black and white. It was the first time I’d seen the ocean in black and white—I grew up in Miami. It was the first time I became aware that people could do something as far as film went. I think when I was in art school, Stranger Than Paradise (1984) came out, and it probably opened the door to a lot of people’s minds—like a lot of people who saw the first band who played their own music and not cover tunes, like, ‘maybe I could tell my own story on film’. It made something seem possible, for myself anyway.

‘First Cow’ is in US cinemas now. An international release is yet to be confirmed. Kelly Reichardt’s films ‘First Cow’ and ‘Wendy and Lucy’ feature in Letterboxd’s Official Top 100 Narrative Feature Films Directed by Women.

[cowonaverse]

The Great Outdoors

Been thinking about this for a while, needed to process what’s happened.

Initially, like months ago when corona first reared up as a Thing to Contend With - the fear and panic was so strong that it pushed aside my depression and background anxiety completely.  I had something very tangible and concrete to Worry About.  Not only that, there was so much unknown that it seemed conceivably cataclysmic, like... it’s all over and done.  That is still in the mix of possibilities, but it’s much more of a mix these days and not so prominent a conclusion.  But still there.  

Anyway, in a home with another person freaking out who isn’t used to freaking out means managing his reactions first.  Securing the food supply seemed primary.  Starting to grow things at home seemed Important.  What I understand is that this is just seeking agency and control in a time of chaos.  But gestures matter, even to myself.  I am not afraid to do for myself if needed.  I grew up on my Grandma’s farm as a young teen.  I spent a summer as an intern preparing and maintaining bean cultivars for study at Tuskegee University.  I majored in Biology as an undergraduate at the University of Maryland Baltimore County.  I have graduate training within a laboratory setting and can pay attention to such needed details that establish and maintain living systems.

This is what I told myself, at least.  All this experience was well over 25 years ago and I’ve since lived as an artist, teacher and illustrator - basically another lifetime.  But I’m confident in my abilities to make - and make do - with my hands.  On the other hand, Saul is an architect.   He is a designer, not an implementer.   His training produces systems that others then render.  He knows how things should work and why things might fail, but it’s mediated through contractors and clients, and according to building code given to him.  There isn’t much tolerance for the scientific method of inquiry and curiosity, or artistic process.  The buildings have to stand and function, the first time, and every time.

So when confronted with chaos and systemic failures, Saul freaks out.  He was having regular, full-on panic attacks at first.  We fought and argued out of fear and then came back together, clinging again out that same fear.  

What I first recalled was my seventh grade science class, when we germinated beans in damp folded paper towels and then grew them to demonstrate basic botanical processes.  I suggested we go through the house for all whole seeds and try this to see what we can grow ourselves.  In retrospect, this is ludicrous.  Farming a few things from the spice rack is not going to sustain anybody, not to mention a household of two people and three cats.

But you have to recall the upheaval and urgency of those first few days.  Hunkering down and keeping busy with anything that seemed to suggest growth and tomorrow was vital, at least to me.  In some ways it was a relief to have to set aside my own neurotic issues to attend to these little mustard seeds and my partner and my cats.  And as the project grew and developed, this was the initial reward: Doing Something Intentional Towards Tomorrow was useful because it modelled the behavior of resilience and hope.  Even if it wasn’t actually practical, it was a rehearsal for a worldview concerned with survival.

I was still teaching students via online classes and it was useful to tell them what we were doing.  The narrative of growing things in the back bedroom was a good story, for the moment - for that very specific moment.

In the end, now, months later: we are participating in a local farm share with actual farmers who know what they are actually doing to produce actual food.  But by now I’ve learned to can and pickle and preserve things, I can bake and sew my own mask.  Here’s the thing: I dabbled in using my art to address my anxieties and it led me to gaining some small set of skills in a variety of projects.  Skills that now I can use For Real.  But what was always in question was who is it all for.  

What I’ve noticed, at least with Saul, is that he doesn’t initiate and get his hands dirty.  But.  Only at first, once I model behavior and demonstrate that there can be a pattern at work, a way of doing and understanding - then he is able to apply his considerable experience with systems and practicality to get it done right and better.  He saw me making and painting, fumbling around with my works and insights.  Then he tried it, made a body of work, participated in open studios, sold some pieces and was able to articulate his artistry in his own words.  I helped him with that, at first directly, then backing off and continuing on my own things but visibly now with him as a peer.

I started growing things and he looked at me doing that, saw it was possible and started doing it himself.  His plants are thriving and doing much, much better than mine.  I helped him with that when he finally wanted to try, he hasn’t done anything like this before in his life.  My earliest memory is reaching out to eat a cherry tomato in the community garden my parents participated in.  We talked about this while working together to sow some radishes he wants to grow. He said he thought he didn’t have a “green thumb” and avoided trying to grow anything.  His radishes are already out of the ground and happily thriving while mine have long since died off.

I have my accomplishments, but I have just as many failures.  I’m trying to be self-aware about what I’m doing and get help and training as I can.  It does help me feel better, day to day - but what I’m seeing is that it is helping Saul feel like he can do it too.  And when he does, he is actually really good at it.  He saw me sewing my fursuit and trying to apply that understanding to sewing my mask for covid.  A few weeks later, I’m helping him make them and his designs are better and neater and fit.  But I sat with him to go over the different options and we looked at the scientific papers about materials and filters and what covid is and how it works and what a filter is and how they work.  Like, we dug for the primary research.  He wouldn’t think to do that, but I’m not afraid of scientific papers and untangling technical things like that.  But he took all that understanding and made a better system of implementation than what I was able to do.  His masks are the ones we use, mine is an interesting sculptural piece and memento of this time.

My efforts to bake and can things worked at first, but the real success is that it prompted him to get involved and do it better.  What I made in the beginning functioned symbolically as self-sustaining, forward looking effort.  What he is doing now puts actual calories into the body better.

We fight over nuance that doesn’t matter, but the broad rhythm of collaboration has been that I do it first: I show that it’s possible which addresses his fear and pessimism, but then he gains confidence and does it better which addresses my impracticality and romanticism.

I am reminded of what I know to be the great biological divide between human beings: those able to tolerate ambiguity and those who can’t.  This is more fundamental than any other means of sorting and categorizing people.  Certain people have brains that light up for clarity and some light up for vagary.

This is the tension between staying in the cave and leaving the cave.  Speaking in prehistoric terms, the basic tension the human animal first knows upon becoming self-aware is how to deal with it’s own mortality.  Staying in the cave is the known quantity: it’s safe because there are no surprises, all issues are obvious and manageable and contained.  The problem of course is that the cave doesn’t have all the things you need to thrive.  Leaving the cave is the unknown quanity: it’s safe because you can be nimble and adjust freely, taking advantage of chance resources and opportunity.  The problem of course is that outside the cave are predators and dangers and the whole chaotic universe out to kill you.

My first inclination to grow food inside the house was basically Chris falling back to staying in the cave.  But as it turns out, plants still fail, the cat still gets in and trashes the crops, not enough light gets in, seeds are limited, resources run out, all manner of chaos still creeps in and undermines the effort.  So many stories have already been told about this.  Eden does not work, the perfect bubble world does not work.  The Island of Dr. Moreau is a horror story.  It is not particularly insightful for me to realize that locking things down to a controlled interior system is impossible or festering and that some tolerance for calamity has to happen for life to thrive.  I was worried about the New England weather wrecking things outside, but our radiator kicking on too high did the same thing.  I was worried about squirrels getting at our food, but our cat did the same.  I’m worried about advertising resources in a racist malignant society during the end times of social collapse and mass hunger, but our neighbors are also properly growing crops in their backyard as are many other houses on our street (and have for years), and our home is right up against an elementary school that also has a happy garden in view from our kitchen.

I was worried so much about the chaos outside that I was blind to the obvious truth that there is chaos inside as well.  The point is that it’s all part of the same messy thing.  Inside the cave and outside the cave are the same.  There is no inside or outside, and that is the point.  At least outside, the plants can get much more sun and so can I, the rain and weather are cooperating.  I had to learn that I don’t actually grow anything, the plants grow themselves, I just have to witness and shepherd that activity, but it’s already gonna do what it needs to do if I let it.

So much about art making seems to be about demonstrating control: over technique, over materials or concept, over a viewer or critic, over a political narrative.  But once you exhaust the resources in the cave, you have to go out and risk and be surprised and find new caves and new vistas and so on.  And it’s not because you know you’ll be safe, but because that is never possible to know.  What I’m learning is to go with another and to sincerely make that effort important and sufficiently rewarding itself.

It is just nicer now outside on the back porch.  The plants that were struggling inside are all booming now.  The wind is nice.  Seeing Saul’s plants pop up and surpass mine are nice.  It’s heading into summer and everything is warm and radiant.  I can hear sirens in the distance and the news is still the news and autumn and winter are right there on calendar, but I’m making my art, learning as I go.  I’m also aware that I’m not unique in any of this, other people have been doing this exact stuff and that’s comforting when I need to feel aligned with others and social.  When I need to look into myself and address my particular quirks I can do that too.  

 The food is better these days.  

[teddybartlett]

t e d d y  b a r t l e t t

full biography

G E O M E T R I C S

↬ Full name ↫

Theodore Edward Bartlett

↬ Nickname ↫

Teddy

↬ Birthday ↫

September 5th 

↬ Birthplace ↫

Chicago

↬ Zodiac ↫

As the great Jenna Marbles says he’s apart of the virgang (virgo)

↬ Height ↫

5′11

↬ Orientation ↫

Heterosexual

↬ Social Class ↫

Born low-middle class but evolved to upper middle class.

↬ Wealth ↫

He has always been smart with his money and has saved up so much as well as moved up fast in his career to be very comfortable.

A P P E A R A N C E

↬ Tattoos ↫

He has a bird on the inside of his arm.

↬ Piercing ↫

N/A

↬ Outfits ↫

Teddy is very straight laced. He keeps his style very professional and simple. He’s not one to go outside of the box.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

↬ Normal mood ↫

He’s usually in a good mood but sometimes too serious and focused. It can take him a while to loosen up.

↬ Temper ↫

Teddy is even tempered, he doesn’t want to cause any issues.

↬ Discipline ↫

He’s patient and good at keeping himself very on track to finish a project or solve an issue.

↬ Strengths ↫

I’d say he’s strong mentally to a point but even if he felt weak, he’d mask it and push forward. Physically, he’s strong pretty averagely. Not too overly worried about being the biggest or strongest guy in the room but he likes to take care of himself.

↬ Weaknesses ↫

His weakness can be focus and determination. Teddy cannot separate himself from his goals sometimes. It can lead to him feeling stressed and too serious.

↬ Drive/dreams ↫

Teddy would love to create his own company if he cannot get high enough up at the studio. He’s at a place right now where he feels his superiors think he needs more time. But Teddy is determined to keep moving up in BVR.

↬ Fears ↫

He can get claustrophobic and is not a fan of small spaces. But he’s also terrified of failure hence why he works so hard.

↬ Likes ↫

Music, working, dogs, cooking, travel

↬ Dislikes ↫

Losing, crowded bars, clutter

↬ Soft spot ↫

Jade and Luna

↬ Depression ↫

Teddy hides his emotions very well and before he met Jade he was incredibly lonely but wouldn’t have told anyone. He wasn’t as close with his friends anymore and hadn’t had much connection with anyone.

↬ Inspiration ↫

His mom and her perseverance to make her children’s life the best it could be inspired him to help her out and make sure she is comfortable.

↬ Role model ↫

Again, his mom. She was a hard worker and she instilled that in him.

↬ Mental disorder ↫

A touch of OCD but nothing officially diagnosed.

↬ Habits ↫

Teddy has to check his emails and clean them out every day. He also is always wearing a watch unless he’s asleep or showering.

↬ Love Language ↫

Acts of Service.

R A T I N G S

(5 Stars means very high strength, 1 star means very low strength aka weak)

↬ Psychological strength ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - Strong and very focused. He is great at compartmentalizing his emotions.

↬ Physical strength ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑ - He’s athletic and averagely strong. He works out a couple days a week.

↬ Leadership ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - Teddy was born to be a leader. He’s very diplomatic but also confident in his leadership roles.

↬ Wisdom ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - He’s never one to make decisions without mulling it over first.  

↬ Intelligence ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - Teddy is incredibly smart. He moved up in his schooling and career so fast based on determination but also his mental capabilities.

↬ Confidence ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑ - He’s confident in work and fairly confident in his personal life however he tends to just keep himself in check. He’s not over the top about it.

↬ Endurance ↫

⭑⭑⭑ - He doesn’t love unexpected change. It can take him a while to adjust however if he made the decision for the change, he can excel at it.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

↬ Father ↫

He never knew his father as he left them when right after his sister was born. Teddy didn’t have many memories and his mother didn’t say much but Teddy did always keep his guitar that he left. 

↬ Mother ↫

His mother Jennifer is an interior designer in Laguna Beach. Teddy moved her and his sister out to LA and they are very close. She struggled to raise two kids as a single mom but eventually got her bearings and moved up in her career, inspiring Teddy to do the same.

↬ Siblings ↫

He is also close with his sister Callie as she is only two years younger than him. She lives in Laguna and works with his mom with her business. 

↬ Other relatives ↫

Teddy has a pup named Luna and his sister has a golden named Colby.

↬ Enemies ↫

He doesn’t have any.

↬ Rivals ↫

Pft no one can rival him.

↬ Friends ↫

Jade, Gabe, Tatum, various work friends

↬ Best friend ↫

Jade & his mom and sister.

↬ Love interest ↫

Jaaadeeee

↬ Marital status ↫

Dating Jade

↬ Children ↫

Julian, Norah, Landon, Hollis

↬ Pets ↫

Teddy has his little baby - Luna a cockapoo

P A S T - T I M E

↬ Hobbies ↫

Guitar, working, hiking

↬ Talents ↫

He’s a hard worker and has a good ear for new artists.

↬ Sports ↫

He likes football, baseball and basketball and watches it regularly. He’s a Chicago fan for sure.

↬ Classes ↫

N/A

↬ Occupation ↫

A&R Director for Black Vamp Records

H O M E   L I F E

↬ Location ↫

Los Angeles

↬ House size ↫

A good sized modern home. 2 bedrooms, one office, two bathrooms.

↬ House type ↫

It’s a very modern and new build.

↬ Level of luxury ↫

It’s high end but cozy still.

↬ Outdoor description ↫

A nice outdoor patio with a firepit and a little bit of grass for Luna to run around on.

↬ Indoor description ↫

Super modern but also comfortable. Teddy’s mom helped him design it and he’s very proud of it.

↬ Bedroom description ↫

His bedroom has a dark accent wall behind the bed and the rest of the room is very minimalistic. 

L I F E    S T O R Y

↬ Age 0-12 ↫

Teddy’s dad left his family when he was around two. Despite being a happy but shy kid, his mother struggled with money and raising two kids. It wasn’t until he was older that he really realized that he didn’t have as much as his friends. 

↬ Age 13-18 ↫

At the beginning of his teen years, Teddy was pretty shy. He had friends but wasn’t overly popular. As he got more into music and playing multiple instruments in orchestra, he came more out of his shell. He always got good grades and excelled enough to get a business scholarship to USC. 

↬ Age 19-25+ ↫

Teddy moved out to California to attend college. He studied business and music. His work ethic thrived when he received his internship at 19 at BVR. From there, he graduated early and took on his first job with the company. Teddy moved up in the company incredibly fast. After a couple months of being a scout, he was promoted to an assistant manager. It wasn’t long before he skipped ahead of his peers to take on the director role just at 26. Just after he took on the role, he met Jade. Only to find her in the same position he once was at her age. They fell in love regardless and now she is moving in with him.

↬ Darkest secret ↫

I would say that Jade was his biggest not darkest secret but they is slowly going to be revealed to the world. Darkest secret is he found his dad a couple years ago and he’s major exec at a rival company in New York. He hasn’t told anyone, even Jade.

[alkhale]

Hello hello miss!... Uh, I think that's how you identify??? If not, please tell me!!! I don't wanna misgender you on accident or something Q-Q Anyways, I've been reading Memo, and I! Really love Hoku, and the way she interacts with the world, and her relationships with everyone, it's just really well written. Plus, she sounds REALLY pretty and I'm weak for that. That aside, are you up for getting ideas for Memo!AUs people've had, or headcanons? If not it's cool, just wanted to ask :> ~ Vira

omg u good, dw anon. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU CUTIE, I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD USE AN uwu WHEN ANSWERING THIS ONE HAHAHAHA. Thank you for loving it and thank you so much!! CALLING HOKU PRETTY IS SO SWEET WHEN SHE PROBABLY JUST LOOKS AT HERSELF LIKE HELL YEAH THAT KIIONOHI WAS WORTH IT. 

I’m guilty of already having a lot of AU ideas for Memos and I might just start a story on AO3 for a collection of them so they don’t clutter the actual story or I can go more in depth or explore some other things hahaha. I’ll start putting them in little omakes and stuff, but Memos chapters have been hella long so I’m worried about overbogging stuff but y’all seem chill with these crazy counts so i hope u don’t mind

AUs:

- School AU, this one’s just fun shenanigans and I love modern AUs. School Council President Sabo, Ace being Ace, Hot teacher Shanks, for some reason Kid and Hoku both have the same art class in basic architecture and metal welding because he’s a grease monkey and Hoku likes designs. Straw Hat crew in school, Brook’s a popular soul musician. Franky and Robin are teachers. 

- MODERN AU. I have so many ideas i wanna hash out for different Modern AUs, hahaha, i’m so attracted to these and was this close to writing it out instead as its own kind of story but Memos won over. 

ASL+Hoku living together and their daily life (together its HASL like hassle and that’s exactly what it’s like with these idiots)

Started to live together once Ace and Sabo were in their third year of high school, it’s been awhile now. (Hoku’s family passed away when she was young, Garp was doing marine work stationed in Hawaii and took an interest in her but before he could find her, she went to live with ‘someone else’ until he managed to shove her in with Luffy, she’s technically an emancipated minor)

Ace is a construction worker/part time fire fighter and picks up all sorts of odd jobs and errand runs.

Whitebeard took him in on several occasions when stuff happened. Ace is super close to the group even though they’re lowkey high profile crime bosses. Marco’s a doctor underground and professional, Thatch is a chef (whitebeard’s crew always sends gifts and visits and hooks them up with deals at random places)

“Ace! Can you call Marco? I think Hoku’s anemic again.”

“I swear to god, put down that phone he’s going to give me all those pills and I don’t wanna pay the hospital bill–”

“But it’s free.”

“God damn it.”

Sabo works for a high fashion brand design/political activist group (somehow these two meshed and Dragon runs both so)

Hoku and Luffy are students almost finishing up with high school. 

Sabo is designated most put-together-has-his-shit-ready, if you can’t find your paint brushes Hoku, ask Sabo. Ace, Sabo put ur laundry away already. He’s usually in charge of meals and making sure the bills get paid. (Their apartment is spacious but a little dingy and random stuff breaks or falls apart but Ace and Hoku are really handy and always fixing shit)

Ace can only make pasta and grilled foods. He’s great with the barbecue. Luffy can’t cook. Hoku cooks pretty damn well but she’s clumsy in the kitchen so she tries to cook before Sabo or Ace get home and they scream something about her cutting off a finger and needing stitches again

House is always decorated with flowers or something nice like a painting or photos or tapestries. Hoku always does that.

They have a small garden plot by the apartment complex. Hoku and Sabo take care of it. Ace and Luffy eat from it a lot and run out animals trying to steal the tangerines from the tree Nami’s adopted mom gave them as a house warming gift.

The three of them fill out a lot of her pages in her sketchbooks and easels. “Is that Sabo again?” “Yeah, he fell asleep reading and he looks too perfect so I wanted to draw it.” “That kinda pisses me off.” “Me too, we’ll do something about it when I finishl.”

Her art classmates are always super eager to see her stuff and ask about the hot older guys in her drawings and please ask them to model. Hoku relents. Ace comes in to model because he gets paid. That’s a story for another day.

Hoku has regular poker nights for awhile now with a group of people Ace and Sabo didn’t think about (they always thought it was the girls or some friends like their friend group) until one night Luffy goes to hang out with the others and they’re like?? Hoku??? and Luffy’s like?? Hoku doesn’t do poker nights with us you dummies.

This sends them into a panic attack and Sabo has Hoku’s location at all times because he did something permanent to her phone (Hoku does not know this) and they visit (stalk) her at one of her poker nights. Find out its in some weirdly shady fancy club body guarded by a bunch of ridiculously macho looking guys (it’s actually Daz, Vergo and some others) They stake out and froth at the mouth, nearly dying when they see Hoku walk out surrounded by GIANT MEN DOUBLE HER SIZE AND AGE, HOKU HONEY, WHAT? It’s Crocodile and Doflamingo, usually Mihawk, and sometimes Jimbei comes.

Hoku’s like ?? I’ve played poker with these guys for forever. (They’re big crime syndicates and totally into illegal business and Sabo knows this and Ace is ready to murder) but apparently Hoku weaseled her way in and she’s a good player so they have fun and like gambling with her. They always suggest taking her to Vegas with them because they’re high rollers but Hoku’s always like nah i got school and work.

Sabo and Ace after herding her home try to convince her to stop meeting with them and Hoku’s just like lmao no and takes out huge wads of cash from her pockets. “They’re ridiculously rich and I win a lot.” They also pay for a lot of good food and Hoku’s not about to pass that up. (She sneaks leftovers for Luffy all the time ((but the older men already know and usually just have shit boxed up for her anyway))) 

“But they’re older men and dangerous!”

“It’s not like I’m going on a date with them. It’s just gambling.”

“You like older men!”

“Oh, yeah, huh.”

Law and Kid are classmates and Luffy and Hoku hang out with them a lot when its not with their crew and Ace and Sabo are always like cant you hang out with better people. Kid and Law never feel welcome in their house but Hoku’s just like dw if they bother u i won’t talk to them and then they get upset and yada yada. Doesn’t stop Ace and Sabo from being super mean looking and scary. Kid and Law are hard to ward off, unfortunately.

Law’s studying to be a doctor, well on the way. Kid’s a mechanic and works at a shop and does street racing. Hoku wants to design a car interior for him.

People always say Sabo seems like the prim and perfect gentlemen of the three and he’ll make a good husband and they just laugh and Hoku tells Koala and she laughs because they always wave their hands and say nah nah, Sabo’s secretly the most sneaky and lowkey scary/sadistic/a tease out of all of them, don’t let the pretty face fool you

(and he really is, sometimes he makes Hoku beg for the pretty cakes he brings home from work from clients because he thinks its cute when she’s trying to reach them over his head)

Shanks is a famous traveler/explorer, always known for doing crazy stuff and his team of explorers climb mountains, explore caves, travel all around the world and take beautiful shots and Hoku and Luffy always tune in. Shanks saved Luffy once from a freak accident and he’s his hero and Hoku has such a hopeless crush on him.

Modern AU where Law is Luffy’s partner in college for a project and he goes to Luffy’s house. Hoku’s a TA for Shanks and stupidly stupid for him and Law meets her and feels things.

Modern AU where Strawhat crew goes on a road trip.

Monsters AU. Hoku’s a ghost.

Hanahaki AU. Red flowers.

Marines AU.

Genderbent AU.

Some other ones but i gotta go finish that essay i mentioned hahaha, hope these were fun! the modern HASL one ran away with me

THANKS FOR LOVING IT

[elle-and-an-orange]

This is just a little thing I wrote up this morning for my birthday, so I hope you enjoy :)

The Planetarium - A TLOU Ellie x TWDG Clementine oneshot

That morning had been about like any other. She got up a quarter till six in the morning, showered, made breakfast, coffee, took her daily dose of Reddit shitposts, and had her usual argument with Joel about her grades slipping. Given how early school started, it wasn’t any surprise that she had the energy level of a sloth hanging from a tree limb. The coffee helped, of course, but there was only so much you could do.

School had the same monotony to it. The only notable change today had been the occasional birthday greeting from a friend or two, most of which were either too enthusiastic about it, or mentioned it as quickly as possible and moved on. Clementine had been noticeably absent all day, which only further brought her down. Her eighteenth birthday, and her best friend wasn’t even around. That sucked the most.

When it came time to go home, Ellie had gone the usual way, taking the street that brought her by the nearest park. It usually helped to take a minute to breathe before heading home and dealing with homework for another night, especially on a Friday, but she’d never even make it to the park tonight. As she was leaving the school, hands buried in her pockets and her hoodie zipped up close to her neck to combat the cold, the girl she’d been looking for all day appeared as if out of thin air.

She wore a purple sweatshirt that looked a size too big for her, and her signature baseball cap rather than the more practical option of a beanie or hood. The sight was endearing, seeing how attached Clementine still was to that hat. Losing her parents the way she did, she didn’t doubt why. Shit sucked.

The bright smile on the girl’s face, though, brought her out of those uncomfortable thoughts, just in time for the shorter girl to drag her into a tight hug even Ellie would have trouble replicating. Her words were muffled against Ellie’s jacket, but still loud enough for her to know that the girl was practically yelling them excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

“Hey, thanks,” Ellie said, through her surprise, returning the embrace with relative ease. “Good to see you, too.” Were you even at school today? She found herself wondering, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry that I missed class,” Clementine continued as she pulled away, as if reading Ellie’s thoughts. She wouldn’t be surprised, to be honest. Clem had a way of reading her that seemed almost telepathic. It’d be creepy if it wasn’t for how long they’ve known each other now. She probably knew Clementine better than she knew herself, no doubt the same applied vice versa. “Lee was helping me with… uh… something. You’ll see.” The girl smiled, grabbing Ellie by the hand. “C’mon, I got a surprise for you.”

“Is it another pun book?” Ellie instantly asked, silently hoping that it was. Granted, she was sure that Clementine wouldn’t skip class that day just to get another pun book. It had to be something else. Still, the thought amused her. Another book filled with potential torture for Clementine and Joel? Fuck yeah.

Clementine shook her head, looking back at her as they trudged down the snow-laden sidewalk. “Mm-mm, even better. You’ll just have to wait and see.” Okay, now Ellie was intrigued.

It wasn’t a long walk to Clementine’s house, and Ellie spent most of the journey there trying to get some sort of information out of the girl about what she was being dragged into. Clementine was tight-lipped, though, being coy about the whole thing. It frustrated her to no end. When they got there, Lee greeted her warmly, wishing her a happy birthday and a ‘good luck’ for becoming an adult. Gee, thanks Lee, I look forward to having to do taxes.

He drove them to their destination, just as quiet about the whole thing as Clementine was. She only began to get an idea as to what was happening when a massive building began to loom ahead of them. Some sort of museum, she thought, which in itself seemed kinda… boring. But, well, she knew that place had a planetarium in it. And, of course, she’d been wanting to go to one since she was like thirteen. Joel hadn’t gotten the chance to take her, given how busy his schedule usually was, so Ellie often talked about it with Clementine. Guess today was the day.

Stopping outside museum, Lee gave them the quick rundown of when he’d be back, and to text him if they decided to get anything out so he’d know where to pick them up. Clementine quickly told him that they would, and dragged Ellie out of the car, and towards the museum.

The instant they entered that place, she turned on Ellie, grinning. “So, have you guessed it yet?”

“I did, and you didn’t,” she let out that last word in an exasperated gasp, still reeling. The interior of the museum was huge, with high walls and ornate designs. To their right was a dinosaur exhibit, where a bunch of tourists were already making their way through the place. A guide stood near the entrance, asking them if they needed any help, which Clementine refused politely, saying that they knew where they were going.

“I had to pull some strings,” Clementine finally replied as they were making their way to the planetarium. “Lee would only pay for our tickets if I got straight A’s, so… sorry about missing out on all those weekend hangouts. Promise it wasn’t because I didn’t want to.”

“I get it,” Ellie replied warmly, shrugging. “I guess I needed some time to work on my stuff, too. Before Joel grills me alive for failing Chem.”

“How’s that going, by the way?” Clementine asked, looking towards her with a raised, concerned eyebrow. “Need any help?”

Ellie smiled. “Planetarium first, Chem later.” Clementine chuckled, nodding her approval. The next partition in the museum brought them into the outskirts of the planetarium, where a model of the solar system was spread out across the massive space. Ellie imagined herself being on a shuttle to Mars, watching as the red orb grew closer and closer, only it was Ellie’s feet bringing her there rather than engines.

One tour of the solar system later, they’d reached their destination. Surprisingly, no one was in the planetarium, which… well, made this all the better. Maybe Clementine pulled some strings to make that happen, but she doubted it. It’d take a ridiculous amount of money to pull that off.

Inside, darkness enveloped the ground, and Clementine found a nice spot to throw out a blanket for the two to lay on. Above, stars filled the roof, spinning around the room. It slowly began to zoom out, eventually coalescing into a galaxy.

She was in awe, imagining the scale of the universe surrounding her, and silently disappointed that she’d never get to explore it. Still, it made for a beautiful sight, almost as much as it was to be lying next to her best friend, who’s eyes shimmered in the starlight.

It felt like ages before Ellie found the courage to break the silence.

“You didn’t have to do this, y’know,” she said softly. “A pun book would’ve been enough.”

Clementine rolled her eyes, looking towards her out of the corner of her vision. “But I gave you one last year. Would be shitty to do that twice in a row.” She shifted in her spot, placing her hands beneath her head. “Besides, you deserve better.”

Ellie let out a dry laugh. “Tell that to Joel. The next time he sees my report card, I’m worried he’ll ground me for life.”

That hung in the air for a moment, a negative comment she was worried that it brought the whole mood down. Clementine took in a deep breath through her nose, pulling her hands out from behind her head, looking towards Ellie once more.

“You know Joel pitched in for this, right?” She said quietly, causing Ellie’s eyes to widen.

“Really?”

“Yeah. He thought you deserved it, too.” Clementine paused. “You deserve everything, Elle.”

The instant Clementine’s hand found her own, Ellie felt as if she’d been electrocuted. Keeping herself calm proved to be difficult, a hitch in her breath that no doubt reached her friend’s ears. Still, despite all that, Clementine made no indication that it even bothered her. Ellie envied her for that.

“Thanks, Clem…” She found the courage to say, eyes trailing back towards the stars once more. “For everything.”

Clementine nudged her with her elbow, smiling once more. “Happy birthday, Stupid.”

With that, Ellie was more than ready to let the universe wash over her.