#Kate though I hope you know this isn't just about wes either. I feel that you are the same as him in that you're the heart

[dovesdreaming]

The eye of the storm

Summary: it takes reader getting injured while out storm chasing with Kate for her to realise she loves reader.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

The air was thick with anticipation as Kate Carter checked her weather radar one last time. The storm was brewing, and today promised to be one of the most intense chases yet. But before the whirlwind of adrenaline could sweep her away, she paused, glancing over at you. You were sitting on the tailgate of the truck, your eyes scanning the horizon, already lost in the possibilities of the chase ahead. The sky was overcast, the kind of gray that held a promise. A promise of thunder, of lightning, of something exhilarating. But for Kate, at that moment, the only thing that mattered was you.

“You ready for this?" she asked, walking over to you while slightly tilting her head, her voice teasing but warm. You turned to her, a smile breaking through the excitement. "Ready as I'll ever be. Though, I have to admit, it feels like we're waiting for something to happen more than usual”.

Kate chuckled, leaning against the truck beside you. "Isn't that always the case with storms? They keep us on edge until they decide to show their hand”. “True" you said, your gaze meeting hers. "But maybe it's not just the storm keeping me on edge this time” you teased, this was common for you and Kate to do. Always finding new ways to slightly and discreetly flirt with one another, yet nothing ever came of the comments, maybe that was for the better even if you wished something would.

She tilted her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh? And what else could possibly be making you nervous?". “Maybe it's the thought of spending the entire day with you” you admitted, your voice dropping to a more serious tone, which was unusual for you and kate, usually trying to keep the air light especially before a chase. For a moment, Kate was taken aback, but the warmth in your eyes softened her reaction. She reached out, her hand brushing against yours. "You don't need to be nervous about that. We're in this together, remember?". You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "I know. I just... I want to make sure you're safe out there”. Kate smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for you, and it tugged at her heart in a way she hadn't expected. She had always been focused on the chase, on the science, on the thrill. But now, there was something else or rather, someone else, who made her want to be more than just a storm chaser. “Same goes for you” she replied softly, her thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I'll keep you safe, promise”.

You shared a quiet moment, the impending storm momentarily forgotten as you both reveled in the quiet before it all began. It was a simple, comfortable silence, the kind that made everything else feel distant, like the eye of the storm where all was calm and still. “Guess we should get going," you finally said, breaking the silence before you became too absorbed in the moment and the usual gaping hole could open in your stomach to crush any hope you had for things between you and Kate. “Yeah” Kate agreed, though she found herself reluctant to let go of your hand. "Let's catch ourselves a tornado”.

The chase had been everything you'd anticipated, chaotic, intense, and absolutely thrilling. The storm system was stronger than any you'd encountered together before, and for hours you and Kate had worked seamlessly, driving through rough terrain, dodging debris, and getting as close as safely possible to the swirling vortexes that danced across the plains. But as the storm began to wind down, so did your luck.

You’d been repositioning, trying to get a better angle on a particularly photogenic funnel cloud when the unexpected happened. A rogue gust of wind, more powerful than either of you had anticipated, hit the truck. Before you could react, the vehicle was flipped, and the world turned into a violent blur.

When the dust settled, Kate found herself crawling out of the wreckage, her ears ringing, but otherwise unharmed. The same couldn’t be said for you. Panic gripped her as she called out your name, her voice breaking as she saw you lying on the ground, a few feet from where the truck had landed. You were unconscious, blood seeping from a gash on your forehead. “No, no, no” Kate muttered, rushing to your side. She pressed her fingers to your neck, relieved to feel a faint but steady pulse. But you were hurt, badly. She could see the pain in your features even as you remained unconscious. “Stay with me, please” she whispered, her hands trembling as she reached for the emergency kit she always kept in the truck. She did her best to stop the bleeding, to keep you stable, but the fear that she was losing you gnawed at her insides. The wind whipped at her face and hands as she patched you up the best she could, she felt like ice but her mind was focused on keeping you alive. She kept her body close to yours and never let her eyes stray away from you.

In that moment, surrounded by the fading storm and the wreckage of what had been such a promising day, Kate realized just how much you meant to her. This was more than a partnership, more than a shared thrill for chasing the storms and a whole lot more than a friendship. She loved you-deeply, completely. The thought of losing you was more terrifying than any tornado she’d ever faced. “Don’t you dare leave me”she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “You can’t leave before I even got to tell you I love you, I can’t do this without you!” She half yelled now with tears brimming her eyes, the majority of her words were swept away with the wind.

It took an eternity for help to arrive, but Kate never left your side. When the paramedics finally took over, she was there, holding your hand, refusing to let go even when the paramedics asked her to. Hours later, after surgery and countless prayers whispered under her breath, Kate sat by your hospital bed. You were stable, the doctors had said atleast. You were going to be okay. The relief was overwhelming, and for the first time in what felt like days, she allowed herself to breathe. As you stirred awake, your eyes slowly fluttering open, Kate leaned in, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Hey” you croaked, your voice weak but unmistakably you. Kate smiled through the tears that had started to form. “Hey yourself. You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”. You gave a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. I’m guessing the truck’s seen better days too?”. She chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re okay”. There was a long pause, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air between you. Finally, Kate took a deep breath, her hand still holding yours.

“I love you” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the words escaping no longer being able to be trapped inside her. “I’ve never said it before, but I do. And I’m not going to waste another second pretending otherwise”. She rambled but you didn’t hear much after that as your eyes softened as you squeezed her hand. “I love you too, Kate. And I’m not going anywhere. Not without you”. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, careful of your bandages. “Good. Because I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever”.

As you drifted back to sleep, still weak but safe, Kate stayed by your side, holding your hand as the storm outside finally faded into nothing. And in the quiet aftermath, she knew that this was where she belonged, with you, in the calm after the storm.

-

Thank you for reading!

[rxmqnova]

Hi, could you write something with Wanda and reader, both of them being werewolf. Yn doesn't trust the avengers too much but Wanda does, so they joined them.

Wanda is the same person when she transformed but Yn doesn't. Yn is quieter but wanted to play a lot and trust them when they transformed and very protective, always around Nat and Wanda, Thor, Yelena and Kate. They liked when she is a werewolf because she doesn't care too much about anything. She bites a bit, but always playfully and gives them something to play.

Playful

Y/N: 22 years old Wanda: 22 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Wands, I don't know" Y/N sighs, flopping down on the couch next to her girlfriend.

Wanda and Y/N have known each other since childhood. The two have been through everything together… Y/N's parents death, Wanda's parents death, then Pietro's death and even their first ever transformation into wolves.

Yes, Wanda and Y/N are werewolves. The girls were scared at first and had no idea what to do. After all, they were only 16 when it happened for the first time.

They learned how to control it over the years though and now their favorite thing to do is running around the forest in the middle of the night.

"I know it's scary. We've always had only each other and I really enjoy being only with you… But having some friends can't harm us. And we can help to save other people" Wanda says, holding her girlfriend's hands and hoping Y/N would agree. "We can always leave if we won't like it"

"… Fine" Y/N sighs, giving in. "But if we don't like it, promise me we'll just leave and live together in a little house in the forest like we've always wanted" Y/N says, looking Wanda in the eyes.

"I promise" Wanda smiles and leans in to peck her girlfriend's lips with a kiss. "Thank you"

———————————

And that's how the two ended up joining the Avengers. Y/N still isn't exactly happy about it, but Wanda is. And when Wanda's happy, Y/N feels happy too.

Y/N found her small group in the Avengers where she feels comfortable. Of course Wanda takes number one place, she's her loving girlfriend and Y/N loves her more than anything.

Then there are Yelena and Kate. Both absolutely love playing around with Y/N when she's in her wolf form. Plus the three are really good friends and somehow always get in some kind of trouble which drives Wanda and Natasha crazy.

That brings us to Natasha who would be another person Y/N feels comfortable with. The redhead still has nightmares from the Red Room and Y/N helps her with it just by being with her. The Black Widow seems tough, but there's nothing she loves more than when Y/N's in her wolf form, resting her head on the assassin's lap while she's running her fingers through the wolf's soft fur.

This group wouldn't be complete without Thor. He never resists the cute puppy eyes Y/N gives him and always shares some of his food with the wolf underneath the table. Wanda's always quite annoyed by it, but she knows damn well that she can't resists Y/N's cute puppy eyes either.

"Wandaaa, I'm booored. Come play with meee" Y/N whines, pulling her girlfriend out of their bed. She's been feeling super playful today, but Wanda's in the exact opposite mood.

"Y/N, I'm tired. You kept me up until like 4 am. I want to sleep" Wanda sighs. The girls spent the night in the forest again and went to bed really late.

Y/N groans, leaving the room and transforming into her wolf form. She feels more comfortable like that whenever she's upset.

The upset wolf makes her way over to Natasha who's currently filling up some mission reports in the living room.

Y/N walks over to the couch Natasha's sitting on, putting her head on the redhead's lap.

"Hi there, Y/N/N" Natasha smiles, running her fingers through Y/N fluffy fur. "What got you so upset?" She pouts, looking at how quiet her wolf friend currently is.

Y/N runs for the ball that she spotted in the living room before running back and placing it on the ground, nudging Natasha's leg with her head.

"Oh. You want to play" Natasha chuckles, Y/N waving her tail in response. Natasha picks up her phone, leaving Yelena a quick text. Natasha loves playing around with Y/N, but she really has a lot of mission reports to fill up. Knowing her sister, Yelena doesn't care about some papers, so she'll definitely have time to take Y/N on the garden.

"Y/N/N, come here! I heard someone wants to play!" Yelena calls from the door frame, squishing Y/N's favorite toy on which Y/N immediately runs up to the blonde, happy that someone will play with her.

Yelena takes Y/N out on the garden and runs around with her, throwing her branches they found on the garden and just playing. The pair is soon joined by Kate who saw them from the window and decided to join her two friends.

About two hours later, the three girls are laying on the grass, Y/N back in her human form and they just laugh about some silly things that come into their minds.

"I don't know how about you, but I'm pretty hungry and something's telling me Thor's just making himself some snack, so I'll go to check that up" Y/N says, standing up, Kate and Yelena following.

They walk back to the kitchen and as Y/N thought, Thor's sitting at a table, eating his big snack. She sneaks behind him, stealing one of his pop tarts and running away, ignoring Thor's calls. She knows he'd end up giving her some anyway as they're really good friends.

"Oh. Wow. Slow down" Wanda chuckles, spotting her girlfriend running towards her.

"Oh. Hi, Wands. Did you have a nice nap?" Y/N asks with a smile, hiding her pop tart behind her back.

"Yeah. What do you have there?" Wanda asks with a raised eyebrow, trying to look behind her girlfriend's back.

"Nothing" Y/N responds, moving around, so Wanda couldn't see anything.

"If it's nothing then why don't you just show me? Are you afraid you'd have to share food with me?" Wanda asks teasingly, raising her eyebrow again.

"Hm. No?"

"Yeah. Sure" Wanda smirks, slowly walking behind Y/N which makes the girl think she's free of this conversation.

Y/N isn't the only one in a playful mood now though. Wanda sneaks behind, ripping the pop tart out of Y/N's hand and running away. "Thanks, babe!"

"Hey! Get back here! That was mine!"

----------------------

I wasn't exactly sure about how to write the werewolf stuff, but hopefully it's not that bad...

I hope you enjoyed reading it!!

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

[spaceorphanssecondbreakfastclub]

SO's Bookclub : On The Way To The Wedding

Title: On The Way To The Wedding Author: Julia Quinn Genre: Romance

Goodreads Summary :

Unlike most men of his acquaintance, Gregory Bridgerton believes in true love. And he is convinced that when he finds the woman of his dreams, he will know in an instant that she is the one. And that is exactly what happened. Except...

She wasn't the one. In fact, the ravishing Miss Hermione Watson is in love with another. But her best friend, the ever-practical Lady Lucinda Abernathy, wants to save Hermione from a disastrous alliance, so she offers to help Gregory win her over. But in the process, Lucy falls in love. With Gregory! 

Review :

Here we are, at the end of the line, and it's a little bittersweet if I'm being honest. This has been an interesting experiment for sure - and I enjoyed the run a lot more than I thought I would!

The thing about this one, even with the second ending, honestly felt like -- every other book in the series. I get and understand the nature of these books are supposed to be stand alone, with a shared background of connectivity. But I am sad that there wasn't something more to tie it all together.

So. Gregory. The first half-ish of this book dragged. A lot of it was about Gregory kind of being torn between two women, and even though Kate was there a lot to facilitate (it was so lovely to see Kate again!!) it wasn't that interesting?

After Gregory kind of gets over his crush on the main love interest, Lucy's, friend Hermione, and start paying attention to Lucy, the book picks up. And the last 100 pages are kind of a riot. There is wedding crashing, and Lucy being engaged to a gay man named Halsby who is absolutely hilarious and why was he not in the rest of the book, and black mail and attempted murder, and seriously -- if Julia Quinn had kept to these main ideas then I'd say this one would be a whole lot better. And honestly, I hope they do make the show until season 8, because this will be a riot when adapted.

Gregory is fine as the male protagonist. He's kind of bland and one note a lot, but at least he isn't as temperamental as his brothers. Meanwhile, Lucy is... kind of the same as every other female protagonist. I mean, Julia knows her structure and continues to stick to it. There are a bunch of elements that do feel a little recycled from the other books. And I don't know that anything necessarily feels fresh. But there wasn't anything in it that made me throw it across the room, either.

The family is there and it isn't. Kate being around is great - because she's a delight, and we really haven't seen her much. There are some really great moments with Violet and Hyacinth, too. Colin is back for a few scenes, but I was a little disappointed -- not only is there really not any mention of Penelope, Colin is so bland that I wonder why she even bothered other than she felt obligated to.

I do wish the book had wrapped up all the Bridgertons in a bigger, more thematic way, but you know what -- that's just not what these books are, and I guess the book giving the main characters a happy ending kind of suffices. (I am a little sad that the second epilogues for all of these -- except Viscount Who Loved Me -- have been a little disappointing.)

Overall, it was fine. The last portion of the book was bonkers and kind of fun. And I guess that is that.

Rating : 3 stars

[otomefiend]

Alfons Sylvatica

Story Event: Wicked love blooming in the dark night (part two)

Chapter 3 Premium

Alfons running freely, proceed with caution.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

~~Part 1~~

Alfons: "My my, are you awake already?"

Kate: "Wh... Huh...?"

(Awake? What do you mean...?)

Alfons: "Ah, it doesn't seem you're fully aware yet. '

Alfons: "Is your ego quite strong? Hmm... My ability isn't omnipotent either."

Kate: "Wh-What... are you saying...?"

Alfons: "How was it? Your first time playing lovers in both body and soul?"

(What.........? No, my head... I can't keep up...)

Alfons: "After all, you were also a plaything for my ability, poor Kate."

Kate: "Your ability...."

Alfons: "Let me tell you something good, since you figured it out on your own."

Alfons: "I mentioned whispering with 'intent' before, but there's more to it."

Alfons: "So... touching the nape of the neck and whispering are the conditions to change someone's perception."

As he was saying it, his palm slid down my neck.

(That means...)

Today, I was touched there many times.

Each time, whatever I saw or felt became distorted.

Alfons: "Did it feel good to be caressed by your phantom lover in your sweet dreams?"

Kate: "....!!"

As he gently caressed my exposed leg, I involuntarily pushed back my chest.

Kate: "I-I..."

Alfons: "Heh, your dignity hasn't been compromised, so don't turn pale."

Alfons: "It's all on me. Right?"

Kate: "Being lovers, that's a lie...?"

Alfons: "Did you really go to a bar or an almshouse? Or was it entirely different place?"

What I saw, even what I felt, I couldn't trust anymore.

Kate: "Everything I saw was an illusion? Together, where.... since when?"

Alfons: "Heh, it doesn't matter what was real and what was an illusion."

Alfons: "Come, I'll show you another pleasant vision."

Alfons: "Poor little robin, got lost in the den of evil."

~~Part 2~~

Kate: "...please stop..."

I slapped the hand reaching for the nape of my neck and jumped out of bed.

Alfons: "Good, that expression. Like a strong-willed cat."

Alfons: "And I like cats."

(I can't believe it...)

I adjusted my disheveled clothes and ran out of my room.

~~~

I walked aimlessly through the streets, hoping to stop myself from crying.

(Alfons is not my lover. How much of what I did with him today is true?)

The lingering feeling of fondness for him was still there, and so was the memory of his tender touch.

My heart was a mess, as if I had truly lost my love.

(I want to find out what was real and what was an illusion...)

My feet took me to the bar.

~~~

Kate: "Did I come here this afternoon with Alfons?"

Young employee: "Haha! What are you talking about, young lady? You were here flirting whilst drinking White Lady, weren't you?

(It was real then. Even the drink I had.)

(Oh, how I wish I could remember the times he touched me on the back of my neck and what he said to me then.)

Young employee: "Huh, isn't that Al?"

Kate: "What?!"

When I turned around, I could see a figure that looked like Alfons heading to the back of the bar.

(He's with a man I don't know. Where on earth is he going?)

I cautiously peeked into the room where they had both disappeared.

(As expected... it is Alfons. What's in front of a man is... a doll?)

Alfons: "Come now... Your precious lover is here to see you."

Man: "A-ah...ah... Ada...."

As Alfons touched his neck and whispered in his ear, the eyes of the man staring at the doll filled with tears.

He started crying and kissing the doll, hugging it with enough force to crush it.

(Wha..)

The unsettling sight left me with an increasing sense of dread.

Unconsciously, my hand tightened and the door I was holding creaked.

(....I shouldn't have)

Alfons: "My my, Kate... what are you doing here?"

~~Part 3~~

Alfons: "My my, Kate... what are you doing here?"

Even though we had parted in my bedroom just a moment ago,

Alfons smiled at me as if nothing happened.

Alfons: "No way, did you come here to find out how much of it was true? What a nuisance."

Alfons: "... It would be rude to interfere with their rendez-vous. Shall we talk outside?"

~~~

Kate: "That man earlier..."

Alfonse: "Heh... he sees that doll as his missing lover."

(You're using your power to show that person an illusion...)

Kate: "..... Please, tell me what really happened today."

Alfons: "...you're a strange person to go out of your way like that, only to face the harsh reality."

Alfons: "Very well. With that enthusiasm, I'll tell you the truth."

Alfons: "It concerns the Atari almshouse we went to today."

Kate: "Are you saying they were involved in some dodgy dealings?"

Alfons: "Yeah. Knowing that corpses can be sold at a high price in a legal trade... must have blinded them I guess."

Alfons: "They were working with criminal organizations, kidnapping people, making dead bodies, and selling them here and there for a high price."

Alfons: "It seems that his girlfriend was one of the victims... and her name was on the list."

(Uh...)

Alfons: "The head of the almshouse was disposed of on the orders of Her Majesty, the Queen."

Alfons: "To stop you from hearing the screams, I made you hear only the 'chirping of birds'."

Alfons: "And I let you play with 'a cute cat', so you wouldn't come chasing after me."

(That's...)

When Alfons came back, I could smell something.

Thinking back, it was certainly the same smell as that night, the scent of blood.

Kate: "...."

As the dread threatened to overcome me and my vision started to waver, I felt Alfons embracing me.

Alfons: "Look, wouldn't you be happier not facing reality?"

Alfons: "I could've replaced discomfort with pleasure, make it easier to forget, silly."

~~Part 4~~

Alfons: "I could've replaced discomfort with pleasure, make it easier to forget, silly."

Alfons: "Life is a tragedy. The painful reality is that even if you struggle, you can't change it."

Alfons: "Then what's wrong with escaping into a dream?"

(Escape from the harsh reality...)

In the morning, I remember being terrified of seeing blood again.

(The cruel face of the almshouse, the assassination that was happening right next to me.)

(Intoxicated by sweet dreams... I was able to spend the day without any distress until now.)

(If I didn't try to expose it... I would most likely never have to feel this way.)

Kate: "Then, was it for my benefit you were creating those illusions...?"

Alfons: "Haha! No way. They were for my amusement."

Alfons: "I like it. Playing with pitiful people like you and him who are being tormented by reality."

Alfons: "I told him earlier that it was a temporary illusion, and that he would soon wake up, but..."

Alfons: "He was still clinging to it. Heh, wretched and pitiful. Isn't it lovely?"

(Even though the man knows it's a dream he'll soon have to wake up from, he still clings to it...)

(He can't bear the pain of losing his lover.)

(To derive pleasure from toying with this person, how cruel...)

I glared at Alfons, who was staring at the back door of the bar.

(Huh...?)

Only then did I realize something was wrong.

There was a smile on his lips and yet it never reached his eyes.

Cold and empty, eyes that showed no emotion.

For some reason, I felt I was getting a glimpse of the real him and was captivated.

Kate: "Alfons... Are you really having fun?"

~~Part 5~~

Cold and empty, eyes that showed no emotion.

For some reason, I felt I was getting a glimpse of the real him and was captivated.

Kate: "Alfons... Are you really having fun?"

I asked the question without thinking.

He turned around, still smiling.

Alfons: "...Yes, of course."

No matter how I looked into those eyes, he didn't seem as though he was enjoying himself.

(If what he said just a moment ago was true... this person is like a bad dream.)

(Even if I had come to the conclusion that it's his truth...)

(I still don't know the slightest thing about him.)

Alfons: "If you want more sweet dreams, I'll show you as many as you want?"

Kate: "I want to get to know the real you more than the sweet dreams you create."

I stared back at him when I said that... Alfons raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

Alfons: "A brave toy indeed."

Alfons: "When I see someone like you who is in a pitiful situation, but tries to face reality in a straightforward manner..."

Alfons: "Frankly, I feel troubled."

Alfons: "I want to play with you until you break."

Kate: "Huh?"

I didn't even have time to brace myself.

Before I knew it, he grabbed my wrists and pinned me against the wall.

Alfons: "Now, would you like to join me and mix things up a bit?"

His smile filled with joy told me...

That this maddeningly sweet nightmare wasn't over yet.

Epilogue

[mashpotatoequeen]

through the sideways curtain and soulmates AU for the ask game please! 🥰 And I hope you’re having a lovely evening!

heheh- thank you!

through the sideways curtain is actually my character analysis fic on Mr. Benedict and Dr. Curtain that I said somewhere that I wanted to write aaaaages ago, and have sorted to start to plot out. It's a lot about how kindness is earned, I suppose, and it's hard to be kind without receiving kindness first. How it can be very easy to be hard and cold in this world when you are met with only difficulty and cold shoulders.

I LOVE The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict in part because it really highlights this, how things got turned around for Mr. Benedict because he was able to finally see proof of a grown up who really is just. Good. With no ulterior motive. And how that inspired him to be the man he was gonna become. How it really was just chance and coincidence that got him there, and chance and coincidence that Curtain never did.

So yeah. It pokes into that, their childhoods, and then shines light on some of their meetings when they're already grown and it feels like everything is too late to change. I think they have more in common than Curtain would ever be willing to admit, and I think Mr. Benedict is very aware, and it's one of the reasons he's so sympathetic.

(sideways curtain is what we called the curtains that separated backstage space right before you went on at my old theater. On one side, you stand in the dark, and everyone's sort of the same- an actor waiting in the wings. But then you step into the spotlight, and you're whoever you've been rehearsing to be, even though you both came through the same origins)

As for the soulmate au.... well. It's TMBS but with soulmates (you get colours on your skin when you first touch, but they can fade to grey if the love isn't there anymore). I've talked about it briefly before here, but basically i have been picking away at actually making it a fic. Here's a little excerpt:

Tests and puzzles and riddles, and everything in between. The children meet, one by one by one. On the steps of Mr. Benedict's spiralling home, Kate smiles with her eyes and clenches her grey-stained fist. “Well, of course it’s not funny, Reynie Muldoon,” she’ll say, and it will be just as true as it is in any other story, “but what do you want me to do? Cry?” Reynie wonders, guiltily, if it is worse to have been loved once and then abandoned, or to have never been loved at all. Regardless, when they had first met, Kate hadn’t offered a hand to shake, and Reynie hadn’t either. There are peaks of grey sticking curling out from underneath the girl’s fingers, and Sticky’s eyes catch on them like a fly on a web. His skin prickles- the back of his neck, his spine, and he swallows hard like it might save him from the ache. When he had last looked in the mirror, his parents' marks had been pale enough to be near unrecognisable. He vows to not look again until he knows he can stand to see them dead. He doesn’t know if he ever will.

[jakethesequel]

Just read Ducks, by Kate Beaton

last night. I bought it a few weeks ago on a whim, with a Christmas gift card. I read Hark, a Vagrant! when I was younger, so I recognized the author, and decided to check it out even if just to support a fellow local comic creator. I was vaguely aware she had released a book about the oil sands to great reviews, but hadn't looked much into it. Finding out it was a memoir, and that she had worked on the oil sands to pay off her art school debt, interested me enough to buy it.

Nevertheless, it just hung around on my shelf for weeks. That's often the way it is with me, I have a constant backlog of books waiting to be started, and even more waiting to be finished. But I've been trying to make more time for reading in my life, so I cracked it open last night, hoping to read for maybe ten minutes before bed.

I read the whole book. All 400-some pages of it. Before I finally went to sleep, I cried.

A work of art making me cry is a very rare thing. Maybe the estrogen treatment makes me more emotional, but it still came as a shock. But, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. The memoir is incredibly close to so many facets of my own life, it was nearly impossible to detach my feelings.

The very format of the book is in service to its emotional impact. The sign, in my opinion, of a master comic artist is not just to tell a great story through the medium, but to know how to use the medium to enhance a great story. Beaton does wonderfully. Most of the book is formatted in 9-panel grids, on book-size paper rather than a TPB's ~6.67x10.25in pages. It does wonders to enhance the claustrophobia of living in either the Maritimes or the Alberta work camps, and makes it all the more intense when panels expand outward for emotionally critical moments. Especially when Beaton devotes to a single or even double page spread to the landscapes of her journey, from the sad and beautiful shores of Atlantic Canada to the eerie marvel of Northern Alberta oil fields.

Beaton is from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia; and I'm from Prince Edward Island. Very similar places, all things considered, though PEI at least has the benefit of being its own province. The privilege of hosting the Confederation conference, I suppose. We're islands on the exact same latitude in the exact same bay, only separated by the Northumberland Strait.

We have the highest concentration of Scottish people in the world outside of Scotland, to the point that there's even a small minority of Gaelic speakers, and thats bleeds through into those who haven't lost their accents. (Of course, we all seem to get it back when we get pissed off.) I recognize every little quirk Beaton puts into the dialogue, and from it I know how a character would say any other word. PEI has a higher concentration of Scots than Nova Scotia as a whole, though I'd not be surprised if Cape Breton specifically was higher than us.

We're both fuck poor, but the whole Atlantic region is, really. Beaton calls Cape Breton "the have-not region of a have-not province," and that strikes pretty true. I didn't grow up in what you might consider the have-not region of PEI (though you might say my mother did), but to tell the truth, there isn't much even in the more populated part of PEI. Our provincial capital is most other places' small town, and even then, it isn't built for the Islanders. It's built for the tourists, like the rest of the Island.

Halifax, Nova Scotia is probably the closest we have to a proper city in the three Maritime provinces. That is to say, it can almost support its population on its own. And still, it's the least affordable city for young people to live in the whole country. An average deficit every month of $1290 (956USD). So it's no oasis. It's not entirely right to say it's supporting its population on its own, either, considering it hosts the country's largest military base.

Cape Breton's main industries are seafood, coal, steel, and what little Atlantic ocean shipping that wants a port a little bit closer to Europe than Halifax is already. But like the book shows, most of those industries are getting smaller and paying less.

Here in PEI, pretty much all we have is seafood, potatoes, and tourism. Farming and fishing is honest work, but hard on the body, and often difficult cut a profit unless you own the farm or the boat. And good luck with that, there's only so much to go around on an island. When a farmer or fisherman dies without heirs it usually gets bought up by a corporation anyway. Tourism -- fuck the tourism. A majority of our hospitality industry is run by members of the same goddamn rich family. The rest is government, like the national park. That fucking tourism industry takes every cent of public money to make the place look quaint and perfect for tourists to have a beach day without thinking about the people who live here. It's a fucking sham.

"Our main export is people" is a quote from the book, but also a truism I've hear time and again in the Maritimes. There's nothing for us here. Most of us, as the book mentions, don't really want to leave, we love the land and the sea. But we can't afford to stay.

I went to school in Arizona for a year. It's an incredibly beautiful place. But I think any east coaster, especially an Islander, feels inherently disoriented when landlocked. The sea is a constant, an even better navigator than a compass point. Taking it away feels like losing one of your senses. There's a scene in Ducks where the author stands in the Atlantic water before leaving for Alberta, and it reminded me of when I came home from Arizona. I'm not big with exercise, and I'm not huge on swimming because of body image stuff, but I made sure to go out and swim that summer, to walk out and just float effortlessly in the salt. It was rejuvenating, it felt like I was beyond myself, like I was a part of the island, in the way seaweed is.

Now that I'm back, I'm training to be a welder. Arizona didn't work out for a variety of reasons. I told myself before I started training that I'd never work in the oil industry. I can't justify it knowing the environmental impact and harm to indigenous people. But I'm very familiar with the process Beaton describes, people leaving home for the work camps so they can make money they'd never be able to here. I can't say it isn't tempting, considering my lack of money, apartment, car, anything. Hell, some places I wouldn't even have to finish my training. They'd take me as an apprentice and train me on the job. But I can't.

Still, I can't avoid its prescence. It's mentioned in classes all the time, which is no surprise. I'm sure half my classmates will be off there afterwards, it'd be insane for the instructors not to mention the most likely employ. It's mentioned by people when I say I'm learning welding. It's even been proposed by my environmentalist mom and stepdad, which surprised me. Even when I do find work, there's always going to be the knowledge I could be making more money with less work if I just sold my soul. I imagine I'll think about it with every bill.

CW Sexual Assault, Misogyny, Transphobia

I've never been sexually assaulted, so I won't speak too much about that element of the book, except to say that it's portrayal was incredibly moving.

I don't pass -- equally by choice as by circumstance -- so I am not a target for violent and aggressive sexual interest. But I am painfully aware of what the men around me think and say. I hear them just inside earshot. I see the graffiti on their locker doors. I know many of them, if they went out to the fields, would be no better than the men in Beaton's memoir.

I also know what it's like to feel unsafe as the minority in and around work in trades. To have to be always on your toes around the cis men that surround you. I'm forced to be aware of the height of every bathroom stall, to make sure I don't pull my underwear down far enough that someone might see. I'm lucky work clothes are ambiguous and baggy enough to grant plausible deniability. I still have to remind myself to keep my jumpsuit zipped up as often as possible, because I don't want to know what would happen if one of the guys saw a bra strap by the neck of my shirt. Or even just the outline of my bra through my shirt. They can be extremely perceptive when they aren't busy being ignorant. It's a dangerous world out there, if you aren't the social norm.

/CW

What I'm trying to get at is that this book is an intensely personal read, and strikes at the emotional core of fundamental subjects in my own life. To describe the feeling of reading it, it was like a conversation with your sibling about shared trauma you both previously left buried. Of course, I'm not actually that close with my sibling. But I am that close with this book. It felt like kin. Long-lost family, from just across the Strait.

[blissfulalchemist]

Heart Warming Wednesday

Okay so I was driving home last night and this scene came to me and I had to write it out. @risenlucifer here is a little something for your boy. Please enjoy. 

The two versions of the song: Liz’s and Wes’

I’m nervous, my shaking hands tell me that much as I breathe like mom taught me. Trying to focus on the calling of my name, the last performance is finishing up. I’m regretting this decision already, I was never going to participate to begin with. Then he mentioned that he didn’t want to celebrate his birthday, given we always had before, I was appalled by this notion. I had planned on trying to make something for his birthday but an idea came to mind while I helped him tune up his old bike and I found myself signing up for this talent showcase, knowing he’d never say no to supporting me.

The group before me are bowing making their way off the stage, my head is starting to spin, I’m gonna throw up. For all the bravado I took from my dad this feels different and I’m scared. Scared I’m going to mess up, that he’ll hate it, that everyone is going to make fun of me for it later, that I didn’t wear the right clothes, that I-. The weight of my father’s hand on my shoulder grounds me, he’s smiling at me, cello in hand. “You got this mija,” he brings me into a quick hug, “He’s gonna love it. And I bet you five bucks we’ll find him crying later.” He kisses my forehead, “Just pretend you’re at Aunt Wren’s and focus on our family out there,” he points to audience and I can make out the faces of Wren, Wes, Rowan, Chance, mom, Danny, Jane, Randy, everyone in my parent’s group of friends. Some of my cousins have made it also but they’re scattered out sitting with their friends.

“Now welcome to the stage Lizette Estrada,” the school music teacher finally announces. My first step is hesitant as I make my way to the two chairs set up at the center of the bright stage. It blinds my eyes and I can no longer see the audience very well. I focus on the microphone, setting the old borrowed guitar down as I adjust it to the height that I need. I hear a few whispers from where they all sit as they watch my dad get himself set up with his cello. If I can’t see them then I can just pretend this is another practice session we’ve been having the past month.

My hands stop shaking so much as I meet my father’s dark brown eyes, he gives me a nod everything ready for his needs. I settle myself in the chair holding the guitar gently as I take one more deep breath. I clear my throat bringing my mouth closer to the mic, “Hi, uhm so,” I try to tune out the coughs mixing with the anticipation silence, “a little bit about this song before I start.” I smile glancing at dad who’s feigning hurt, “Before we start, sorry.” There’s a small laughter that ripples through some of the audience members, “Anyway, this song is dedicated to someone very special to me and my favorite person in the whole world...other than my parents.” I’m glad I wrote out what I planned to say as my heart is beating out of my chest, “According to my mom, when I was little he was watching me and Danny when my parents were out, and I apparently was having a hard time falling asleep. None of my parent’s tricks were working and so he does the last thing he can think of. He pulls out this guitar,” I pat the guitar resting on my thighs, “and starts playing. It must have been the only song he could remember that sounded soothing because mom told me they came home hearing him play it in my room twice before he realized they were watching him.”

I can’t help but laugh a little, my father and some of the audience members following suit. “The tune always stuck with me though. I am told that I used to bug him all the time to play it again and again and again,” talking about these little memories is becoming easier, my confidence rising as the audience is responding how I wanted, “Okay I still do sometimes, but he’d oblige if he could at the time.” The strings are strummed unconsciously, “So I guess now it’s my turn to play it for him. It’s a little different from how he would play it but I think that fits.” I get myself more settled into the seat, “Happy birthday Uncle Wes.” I hear the quietest of ‘Aww’s from mom and Aunt Wren.

I look to dad who’s asking if I’m okay. I nod and get my fingers in the right place waiting for him to start with the first note. The drone of the first note hits my ears as I mentally count out the beats before my fingers strum the first chord. The song is slower and a cover from an old musical of the same name. I inhale, “Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup. They slither while they pass. They slip away across the universe.” Dad and I have gone over this song more times than Wessy ever played it for me, but it had to be perfect, “Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind possessing and caressing me,” there’s a breath in between as I ready myself to hold the next words, “Jai Guru Deva, Om.”

I start the chorus and my confidence is growing as everything about this moment feels natural. I glance out to the audience as I sing, meeting everyone’s eyes saving Wes’ for last hoping to see his reaction. The lights are too bright but I see his hand over his mouth, the slightest sheen of tears, though it could be my eyes playing a trick on me. I’m starting to rock with the beat of the music as I start the second verse, “Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes. They call me on and on across the universe.” My voice flies out confident and just like how Tia Wren encouraged me. All those days by her piano begging her to play the notes all in an attempt to coax Wes into singing with me, “Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box. They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe.”

The memories of being high, touching the sky from his shoulders, the way I used to boss him around to do things right, the infamous pancake fiasco, how I would talk and ramble for hours as he worked on his bike, the times he listened as I got older and I no longer fit in, the staple he is for my parents making sure he was the only dumb one in their little group. Everything that’s ever been shared between us rapidly crosses my mind as the final verse starts, “Sounds of laughter, shades of life are ringing through my open ears.” The closeness of our family seeming to stem from his presence, “Inciting and inviting me,” the people and lives he’s made better because he was simply him, “Limitless, undying love which shines around me like a million suns,” witnessing the love he has for her, pure and simplistic but forever cosmic, “It calls me on and on across the universe.” This whole song is one moment in time but encases the whole of memories from everyone he’s ever touched, not just me.

I feel my throat start to close as we near the end of the song, I’m trying to not cry, cursing my mother for giving me the over emotional gene. How I manage to hold it back long enough to finish the song is a mystery but welcomed as I hear the start of the final notes. My father was the one to start the song and he’ll be the one to end it. “Jai Guru Deva,” I hold the last syllable a few seconds, the last droning note being played. The silence that follows holds us suspended in time as I see the proud faces of everyone that’s here in my life because of him. He’d never admit it but I know. I figured out how much of a common denominator he is in this group. He’s the one to connect the dots, completing the constellations I’ve grown up around, something I could never thank him enough for. 

His hazel eyes are holding what I think is pride, maybe a little shock still from how much I dragged him into the public eye for the four minutes it took to finish the song. Life is in slow motion as I watch everyone start to stand, the sound of the first clap speeding everything back to normal as it hits my ears. I can feel my cheeks hurting from my smile as I’m made to stand for a bow. There are cheers that are louder than the others as I come back up from my bow. I hold my arm out to direct the attention on my father as he takes his own bow. The applause doesn’t stop until we both leave the stage, seeing the rest of them slip out the auditorium doors to meet us with smiles, hugs, and praise in the hallway. 

Dad stops us before we leave the music room, “You did amazing out there,” his arms are tight as they wrap around me, “I always knew you were a blessing to us, but tonight you’re more than that. Especially to him.” 

His words hit me, pride spreading through my chest, I have no choice but to bury my face into his shoulder. The tears soaking into his shirt, “Thank you,” I sniffle trying to stop myself from sobbing, “I love you dad.” I hear the smallest sound of some form of crying from him before he pulls away kissing my cheek.

He’s smiling holding my shoulders, eyes looking to the door that’s opened behind me, I’m turned to see Wes standing there, “I don’t want to intrude-.”

“Intrude away Wessy,” my arms open as he quickly steps into them. He lifts me a few inches from the ground, I’m handing the guitar over for dad to hold, “Happy birthday Wessy. Did you like your present?”

His tears are starting to fall, “I loved it. God I loved it.” My own tears are staining his shirt as we stand in crying silence. It’s a comforting feeling and I wish there was a better way to preserve this moment. The video mom took isn’t enough anymore to be a reminder of this moment, this night, it’s this hug. The love in the room that can never compare to any other kind because this love has been born years before I was ever a thought, before he ever thought he was worth something, before he finally found what he had always been searching for. No, there’s nothing like it for there’s no one else like him. He’s wiping his face when he finally pulls back, “Funny how this old guitar made it back to the beginning.” He takes it from my father looking it over.

I tilt my head, “What do you mean?”

His eyes are far away, “You didn’t tell her Raf?”

“I thought you did. Assumed that’s why she had it to begin with,” he shrugs, “I didn’t even know she had it until I got up to the stage lights.”

“Tell me what? I just thought it would make it more special because it was yours Wessy,” I’m inspecting the guitar trying to find any clues as to what they could be talking about.

He’s chuckling shaking his head, “It’s more than that,” he looks up to my dad’s face, “Your father picked it out. Gave it to me for my birthday.”

A small gasp escapes me as I cover my mouth, I should have had a pocket full of tissues. I’m looking between them, “Hurt when you left it behind,” my father responds as he places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Guess it became your anchor in the end.”

Wes sighs holding out the guitar to me, “Guess it’s found its home. Ain’t very good anyway.”

I shake my head wiping my tear stained face, “No Wessy,” everything is clicking into place, for me as I see their reflection in the glossy wood, “It doesn’t belong to me. It’s yours. Dad’s right, it was your anchor. It’s home and home is where the heart is.” I wrap my arms around him tightly.

“And you’re the heart, Wessy.”

[mskatesharma]

Yes exactly. Anthony’s insistence on Edwina made no sense for several reasons. It wasn’t just her proximity to Kate, she was a bad fit! The family would’ve eaten her alive lmao. I can’t see her commanding their respect. Edwina’s disposition wasn’t right, as Pall Mall demonstrated.

I also think because she’s been so coddled by Mary and Kate she likely doesn’t have much fortitude for when things go wrong. For example, Edwina immediately looks to Kate when Anthony flees the dinner party to fix the problem. Edwina would definitely suit for the socialite/hostess part of the Viscountess role. However, even though she was presumably raised to be a housewife as all women were, I can’t see Edwina excelling at the family politics, the day to day managerial part of it or the crisis management with all the scandals the Bridgertons get into. It at least would be a rude awakening and an adjustment imo.

(This post.)

I thought Colin's comment after Edwina runs from the alter, it was along the lines of "Miss Edwina does have a rather delicate disposition", was rather telling, at least about how the older siblings saw Edwina? And that idea isn't helped by the way she's been coddled by Kate and Mary for most of her life.

Charithra has talked about how Edwina has been brought up being the centre of her family, and as such, she hasn't really had to think about anyone but herself (which explains a lot tbh). And obviously Edwina can't help the circumstances of her upbringing, and how she's been shielded and coddled by her sister and mother, but at the same time, it kinda should be clear to everyone that Edwina is rather sheltered? And it just makes Anthony's insistance that she has to be his bride weird, because like you said anon, for the role he wants his wife to play within the context of his family, he needs someone with more fortitude and grit than Edwina ever really exhibits in his company? Whenever there's a problem or an issue, her first response is to look to Kate, either for an answer, or to fix whatever has gone wrong. Like after the dinner with the Sheffields, Edwina asks Kate if Anthony will forgive them, when Anthony is Edwina's fiance; surely Edwina should know the answer to that question better than Kate?

Marrying into the Bridgertons would have been a somewhat rude awakening for Edwina for sure, and tbh, I can imagine it would have been really isolating for her? On top of everything, it's the fact that we see Edwina doesn't appear to be comfortable with the Bridgerton's dynamics and how they relate to each other? Obviously it would get better with time, but prior to the wedding, the only Bridertons that she seems to be at ease with (that we actually see) are Anthony, Violet and Daphne? And Daphne is kinda moot seeing as she has her own household and she isn't with the Bridgertons all the time. You would hope she feels at ease with Anthony considering he's to be her husband. I think Violet obviously would have helped Edwina, but Violet is the mother, where Edwina is the sister in law, and considering the way Anthony told her that he didn't really expect to spend that much time with her, she wouldn't necessarily have the support of her husband, which she probably should have done in that situation. And I think that lack of support would have been made worse by the fact that Edwina wouldn't have had Kate to lean on either, and tbh I'm not sure how much help Mary would have been either. Because it's like you said anon, what would she have done at the first whiff of a scandal or crisis, especially with no Kate there to fix it for her? She would have struggled.

It's certainly not definite that Edwina would have floundered as Vicountess Bridgerton, of course not, but considering the above, and just how young and naive she was (almost painfully so at times), I think she would have struggled somewhat fitting in and and finding her place within the Bridgerton dynamic. And when you consider how much his family mean to him, and how the woman he married was going to help him lead his family, Anthony's insistence that Edwina would be his wife was just plain odd. It was like the only thing he cared about was that his bride read, played an instrument, knew latin and greek, could dance, and was someone he knew he would never be in love with, and he wasn't really bothered whether they fit in with his family. And honestly, it's such a dick move, because if the person he married didn't fit in with his family, it would be so lonely for them? And for what? All so Anthony could be sure he'd never be in love with them? I just find it so callous, no matter how much I might understand his motivations because of his grief and trauma.

[andiatas]

So earlier today someone sent in an ask on anon & I was originally planning on not answering it, so I deleted it. Though I changed my mind, so nonnie, here's my thoughts & sorry I can't respond directly.

The question, or maybe should I say critique towards me, was in regards to the topic of royals & colonialism. Nonnie pointed out that I had first posted about how colonialism is bad - I'm guessing you point towards my anger about the mine in Gállok - but then posted about Will & Kate's trip to Jamaica. It's true that I did reblog a post talking about Will's speech where he apologised for slavery. It's true that in that post they (the post was written by @willandkate if nonnie wants to ask them directly about their opinions) talk about how Will shouldn't be blamed for colonialism & slavery.

I get nonnie's point of view that Will comes from privilege & how just because he wasn't born during the colonial era, that doesn't mean the whole thing isn't problematic. Truly, I get that point of view & I won't criticise people for feeling & thinking that. Now, I'm neither British nor from a British colony, so I can't speak from that perspective.

What I can do is expand on my thoughts in regard to the Swedish royals. I'm Sámi, I'm part of the indigenous people, I was born & raised in Northern Sweden, I was born & raised in Sápmi. I'm the first in my family to go to university, my parents were the first to go to secondary school, my grandma established the first kindergarten in our county after she finished school. My great-grandparents got their identity stolen from them, they were no longer S��mi, they were Swedes & therefore were forcibly assimilated into the Swedish society. The generation before that lived through the height of Swedish eugenics. Before that, my ancestors, through force, had to convert to Christianity. They had their religion & their sacred items taken away from them & burned in front of them in some cases.

I grew up being told that we had been Sámis but not anymore; we were Swedes. I was told that it's shameful to be indigenous; it's wrong, and it only causes problems because indigenous people are lesser than Swedes. Being indigenous, talking with an accent & wearing traditional clothes was wrong. I'm 23 years old & I don't have the guts to wear traditional clothing outside my door because I know I will either get looked at weirdly or receive hate from strangers.

Why am I telling you guys all of this? It's because I get it. I get the anger & I get the hurt. I may not fully get what British colonialism is & was; of course, one can't truly compare because British imperialism was far more extensive, but I do get Swedish colonialism. Some parts are the fault of Swedish royals & some parts are the fault of Swedish politicians. What's even more infuriating is that neither politicians nor history books acknowledge that it's colonialism - Sámis are seen as indigenous & the people who were paid by the state to inhabit our land were called settlers, but what the Swedish state did was just "an expansion", not forcibly taking land from people who already lived there. Sámis weren't victims to slavery, it was "forced labour" in Swedish mines.

But my take on this is that you can't change history. Unfortunately, you can't. What we can do is ask people to do better. Ask the British government to do better. Ask the British Royal Family to do better. Ask the Swedish government to do better. Ask the Swedish royals to do better.

From my point of view, the Swedish royals well & truly do their part. On the other hand, the Swedish government has a state-owned company who are wiping out Sápmi's forests & just gave their green light to a mine on indigenous land (who needs to get the Court's permission, but still). Instead of critiquing the royals for what their predecessors did, I choose to criticise the government for the exploitation they're doing right now.

So nonnie, I get your point of view & I hope you understand mine. From my perspective, one can criticise a government for green colonialism & praise Will for speaking about slavery, all during the same 24 hours.

[averlym]

ASHJDSAHLKGJ WAIT I NEVER THOUGHT ABT LUMINE THAT WAY

but yes omg lumine paimon found family much beloved. (i actually can't ever bring myself to use the emergency food dialogues because paimon is just. too precious.)

also. yes i have a pair of jeans and ever since i read that pun i have been making the same pun NONSTOP my friends are sick of me now but that was pure comedic genius omg.

aiyaaa no don't say that about your writing >:(( self-deprecation is banned in this household tumblr i am sure it is amazing!!! and either way beauty is in the eye of the beholder. in this scenario i am the beholder and everything you make is amazing. tis facts.

ganqing though.... beloveds.... i am such a multishipper it is a serious problem but BELOVEDS... i have too many fic ideas and no time :c

WATT HADESTOWN AU??? IM INTERESTED ??? that would be SO cool like honestlyyyyy

that reminds me i was toying with the idea of a jeanlisa/beiguang hadestown au once upon a time but extracurriculars got in the way sob

I hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! *more hugs 'cause they make the world go 'round*

-the one and only teanon <3 (i'm on an old pc that is extremely scuffed and has no emojis sob)

as per usual, most rambles are in the tags,,, but also here are some doodles from the watt hadestown au it all fits in my head somehow so idk how clear these are

more info on the general story under the cut: but also, read the existing tags for this post first!

sign on the line 'cause you're running out of time

a/n: a scene from watt/hadestown (but i go off on too many tangents in brackets)

riley steps forward. 'she can't go. she signed a contract. she belongs to the team.'

kate stares between eva and riley, and back to eva. "is it true?"

they speak in unison. 

"she does." "i do."

(kate thinks, sometimes, about eva and 'i do's and their wedding song. this is not the 'i do' she wanted. this 'i do' she dreamed of only in her nightmares, on the track to here, this hell.)

"i can't leave the team," says eva, "i signed. 90k, my scholarship, for me to be on the team. climatology, kate! any way the wind blows," she sings bitterly.

"you can't leave- please not you- not you too-" comes kate's response, words spilling, falling from her lips, the same ones she said to chess before she left and never came back and now eva is going too- there isn't even a promise to skype, to keep in touch, to let her follow- "come home with me," she begs, "we can fix it-" 

(she knows they can't. riley is the richest girl in the area. the school can't afford to lose her. 90k scholarship, fancy gym- giles corey would bend over backwards for this girl.)

eva laughs sadly. "you don't know what it's like to be hungry." 

(i have worked so hard for so much less, eva thinks, remembers being unable to study for college because she was always working, how the stress got to her. thinks about how annleigh said kate would make her feel alive- but she can't quite remember how it felt. being a tiger has dulled her inside. riley is rich, and she knows how to use the money and power she has- a world where all the wrong kids keep getting all the nice things, she thinks wildy for a moment, watching kate stare at her brokenly, and she loves kate but sometimes she doesn't get it, lost in her music, lost in her grief.)

from the side, cairo watches. 

(the memory of seeing eva flashes through her head. up on top for spring, above and away from this basement, pouring drinks for everyone in the sunshine. kate had cried, "she will always fill our cups," a praise, a challenge, a reassurance to the girl next to her, staring at this bringer of life with skepticism. cairo had noticed, and looked directly at this girl, hungry and tired, and chimed in with "i will," watching her face grow hopeful. kate grinned, strummed her song and toasted, "and we will always raise them up!")

(growing up, despite appearances, kate never hated cairo. "i'll play my song and you and riley can kiss and make up," she told cairo as a child. cairo looked at this mortal girl, fingers red from holding guitar chords, and scoffed a disbelieving "sure.") there was a frenemy sort of passive-aggressiveness between kate and cairo, and out of all the gods, cairo was one of the rare few she trusted to help. like now.

(she thinks to annleigh turning to her, looking haunted, saying that cairo and riley were behind chess's death, and her immediate reaction being to defend cairo- "cairo never hated chess!")

kate turns her head to the side, and cairo, lost in the tumultuous thoughts of an immortal who has lost so many (her mind, right now, is thinking of farrah) looks up. "cai," kate pleads, and cairo steps forward, into the dull glow of riley's basement, so different from sunlight above. riley's voice hums, a calming technique cairo taught her long ago, and cairo can nearly hear the words with the tune. "please forgive me for doing what's best for you," echoes riley's voice in her head, sad and desperate.

"riley," she starts, and her friend looks to her. riley's hands are shaking, something cairo remembers from fourth grade. "make this easier" riley sings softly, voice trembling, and looks at her.

"eva means nothing to me!" says riley, defensive, mind whirling with 'cairo must think i have a crush on eva or something and now she hates me just like i got mad at farrah when cairo started spending so much time with her but farrah was bad for her they kept getting drunk and please forgive me for doing what's best for you i love you i love you i love you please she means nothing to me it's always been you-'

and maybe the two of them know each other too well, maybe they're too in sync, because cairo looks at riley and sees how much riley cares for her, and also thinks of farrah, and the suspicions she has, and her heart breaks because she knows how to fix this and she doesn't want to do it.

"i know," cairo says (reassuring, i care for you too, do this to please me) and then, "but she means everything to her."

riley is beset with phantoms that take cairo's voice and face and rip them off, because suddenly, even though she is looking at her best friend, all she can see are ghosts.

chess floats near her face, and riley can almost feel her nonexistent breath beside her cheek. "damned if you don't", she sings, hauntingly persuasive. let them go. the guilt claws at riley's chest. she can't breathe. 

chess then glares at farrah as her double braids flop onto riley's head. with fake cheer, she somersaults through the air and grins at riley upside down. "damned if you do!" mocking, taunting. you can't win.

clark appears, broods by her side. choruses with the other two before they fade- "whole damn nation's watching you."

even as the apparitions subside, drifting in front of her instead, their song continues around riley- "what you gonna do when the chips are down, now that the chips are down?"

"here's a little tip," farrah hums, sing-song, and a bottle of belladonna wine appears in her hand.

"word to the wise," sighs chess, and suddenly her hair is filled with poppy red, flowers blooming and covering the blood from an inconspicuous stab hidden beneath her jacket.

clark, instead, seems to be spiralling, twisting the ring around his finger until it warps into a bloody knife. "here's a little snippet of advice," he sings.

three fates, always singing in the back of her mind, in front of her vision. here, they mock her. clark places the knife he is twisting before riley, and it hovers there as the spirits disappear. "men are fools, men are frail, give them the rope and they'll hang themselves."

[whaleofatjme1920]

romantic letter to tobias erin rodgers (creepypasta). my name is jay and i use she/her pronouns. thanks a bunch for this <3 keep up the amazing writing!!

My sweet Toby,

Hello, hun! It’s been a few days since I started physical therapy for the damage done by the stroke I had. I haven’t really gotten the chance to write to you until now due to that, so I apologize for not getting back to you sooner :c. They say I’m making a lot of progress. In just a little less then a month, I’ve moved from my walker to a cane! Well— I was kinda forced to since my grandmother wanted her walker back, so I had to give it back. Its a lot harder to get around, now, but I’m managing okay on my own.

I hope everything is going well on your end, though! I know how dangerous your line of work is, and I can’t help but worry, even if you’re 100% capable of taking care of yourself. Please please make sure you double check if you have any injuries every so often! I packed you that personal first aid kit, so be sure to use it when you need to! You have to admit, having an EMT as a girlfriend is pretty useful, lol c;

As of right now, I’m sitting down for dinner. I made my homemade mac and cheese that you love so much. You know, the one with three cheeses that I bake in the oven? I actually started making a bowl for you before remembering you’re with the proxies. When you get back, I’ll make you another batch all to yourself. Then, we can cuddle up on the couch and watch some movies together under my huge blanket. Take care of yourself, and let the proxies know I wish them well. When you all get back, stop by and pick up your Christmas gifts!

I love you, hun <3

Jay

[Disclaimer: Letters To Those you Hold Dear is a special event I'm holding from December 9th - whenever I feel like closing it! The absolute deadline is December 21st. Find guidelines here so you can send a letter or two to those you hold dear <3]

Hey Jay!!

I've been thinking about you so much that Masky is getting annoyed lol. Can't help it, I miss you, and I worry about you. I wish I was there to help you. I'm sorry that I'm not. Is physical therapy going well?? I really really hope it's going good. I have some tricks up my sleeve that could probably help when I get back. I'm so happy to hear you're making a lot of progress and WOO!! Moving from a walker to cane?? I'm literally so proud of you babe!! Look at you go!! I cannot wait to see you again in person, and hopefully back in time for the holidays! But, Hoodie isn't so sure we'll even be in the area depending. Smh, I'll sneak out across country to see you.

Things are going pretty decent here. I'm a little tired by how much the boss is having us do, but it's nothing I can't handle. The other day, Hoodie saw I had a nasty gash and I was almost set on leaving it alone but I remembered the first aid kid you got me. I'll have to refill the hershey kisses you left in there haha. Having an EMT gf is the best. Other than that, I'm hoping the boss eases up kinda soon. Kate can barely stand moving from one motel to the next, and honestly I can barely stand it either. Motel owners talk to each other... And they're starting to recognize us. It's getting kinda ridiculous lol.

Man, do I miss your cooking. I remember the first time I had it and I think I teared up! I love mac and cheese, especially that baked one you make and shit I might have to run off now just to have some. I think it's real cute that you started making a bowl for me before you remembered where I was. You're really cute. I want to watch some of those weird netflix titles lol. Masky and Kate brought some up the other day and lmfao I want to see them just to poke some fun at them. But mostly, I want to snuggle with you again. I miss you so so much. I have a few things for you as well, think you'll enjoy them a lot!

Right back at you and can't wait to see you again,

Toby

PS <3

[mochiiikko]

Lying Is Surviving, Literally

I.

Anne followed Cathy's actions, tugging on her own choker. Anne didn't understand, she never saw Cathy without a choker, or atleast a scarf. Just something that covered their neck. She geussed they probably had a wound there from their time with Thomas that they didn't want shown. But still, it seemed weird.

Anne herself, god damn even Kate, could be seen without anything covering their scars. And everyone in the house knew of Cathy's trauma with Thomas. And there were definitely incidents with physical abuse at some point, and with Anne's personal expierence, she didn't blame Cathy for covering it up. But she knew something wasn't right.

"Annie?" Anne was snapped out of her thoughts as she looked back at the person she raised, only to not know anything about them now. "Are you okay?" Cathy asked. "Yeah. I'm fine darling. Just thinking." Anne smiled softly, explaining without giving to much away. "About what?" Cathy seemed to grow more curious. Anne stayed silent and debated whether to tell Cathy. "Nothing, what are you reading?" She smiled as Cathy's eyes lit up. "It's called to kill a mocking bird!" Anne smiled, her plan seemed succesful.

It was always easy to change the subject with Cathy.

II.

Catalina wasn't sure of what had woken her. But the cries from upstairs were enough to get her out of bed, luckily it wasn't Anne. No they shared a room so couldn't have been Anne, she was still sleeping beside her anyways.

She looked into Kate's room as soon as she got upstairs, but the fifth queen was sleeping peacefully. When she opened the door to the room Anna and Jane shared both were sleeping as well. And the last person left was Cathy.

She stormed into their room to find Cathy on the floor crying their eyes out. "Oh baby." She walked over and sat beside the last queen. "Are you okay to touch?" She asked, knowing to ask for permission after Cathy gave Anna a blue eye when she tried to hug them after a nightmare. Cathy shook their head. "That's okay queride, wanna talk about it?" Catalina had to stop herself from still reaching out to shaking survivor. Cathy shook their head, a little more frantically. "Alright, talk when you're ready. Want to sleep with me and Anne?" This time Cathy nodded, laying on the floor for a bit longer.

Catalina helped Cathy up and led them to her bedroom. "You okay to touch now?" Catalina tucked both of them in, trying her best to not disturb Anne. This time Cathy nodded and immediatly Catalina held her as close as possible. "Goodnight mija."

III.

"I can't get anything out of them." Catalina slammed her hands on the table. "It's like they don't want to talk to me." She huffed placing her head in her hands. "They do, maybe they just need some time to talk." Jane smiled caressing Catalina's arm. "But Jane this isn't the only time they've acted like this. It's happened before and they never came to me. I'm worried for them. I don't know what to do." Catalina's words grew frustrated as she fall back onto the couch.

"I can try bust it out of them." Anna said. "But i'm the one supposed to help!-" Catalina squeaked out "Lina, i can get them to talk to you." Anna smiled when Catalina's expression softened. "I just want to know what's wrong Anna."

"I know Lina. I know." And like that Anna rushed up the stairs, determined to get Cathy to talk.

"Catherine!" Anna yelled knocking on their door, Anna was many things but not a fool, she was dealing with Cathy the door was definutely locked. "Go away madrina." Came from inside. "It's not Lina. It's Anna." She heard a thud. "Well i don't want to talk to you either."

"Cathy please. I need to talk with you. You'll get some coffee from me." A click. The door opened slightly. "4 cups." Cathy said. "4 cups." Anna agreed. Cathy opened the door, letting Anna in. "Cathy. You've been distant lately. And don't fight it, i heard your screams at night. Spill the beans." Anna said sitting down on the bed. Cathy sat at their desk. "I'm sorry... It's just nightmares about Thomas." Cathy said. "Well, i want you to come to us when you have those. And you're not a burden, i promise. Now can you go tell Lina? She's worried sick." Anna said. "Yeah, of course."

IV.

A knock on the door snapped Cathy out of their work. "Come in." They turned too the door and smiled when seeing Kate. "I had a nightmare." Kate muttered. "Want to talk about it?" Cathy asked. Kate nodded and walked to the bed.

"What was it about darling?" Cathy asked, sitting beside Kate. "My beheading." Kate responded. Of course, of course it was her beheading. And of course she'd come to Cathy about it. "Was it you know..bloody?" Cathy asked. "No. I woke up as the man swung the axe. I didn't see my head flying." Kate chuckled. "It's the first time i woke up before the crowds cheers." Kate said, tearing up.

"Oh Kathryn." Cathy hugged the pink queen who started crying. "They didn't have the right to clap when you died. That was wrong, you never deserved to die." Cathy carresed Kate's back, they felt her tears soak her shirt but it didn't matter. "I've got you." Cathy held Kate extra close after that. "You're safe in my arms Kathryn." Kate let out a teary laugh. "It feels weird having you say my full name. Knowing we have the same name." Kate giggled and Cathy couldn't help but laugh too.

"Yeah, i get it." Kate let her hands wander Cathy's back and neck, elicting giggles from the blue queen. "You were nearly beheaded to weren't you?" Kate asked. Cathy grew tense and Kate stopped her hands. "Yeah. Nearly." Cathy said trying relax again. "Sorry." Kate said letting herself fall on the bed. "It's fine." Cathy smiled.

"Can i sleep here...?" Kate sat up, staring at Cathy with hopeful eyes. "Yeah of course." The last queen tucked the both of them in, their earlier work forgotten. "Thanks cath." Kate hugged the older who smiled.

"No problem."

The flinch of pain when Kate had touched Cathy's neck was long forgotten as the two fell asleep.

V.

Jane had taken notes of Cathy's behaviour. Her suspiscion had started when she noticed Cathy's obnoxious obsession with chokers. It had gotten bigger when they practically begged to have a choker added to their costume. So this is where she was now. Trying to find as much information as possible about Cathy.

All the websites said the same thing: after Henry's death she got married to Thomas Seymour. She died of child bed fever. And nothing else.

The article's all mentioned a daughter. But never did Parr speak of having a child.

Her eyes shot from article to article. till she saw something different. "Catherine Parr's beheading? Well i knew they were nearly beheaded, we all know that but. They didn't actually get beheaded... right?" Jane whispered to herself. Though she still clicked on the article, just to make sure.

As she read through it she started to tear up. Everything started to make sense, the collection of chokers, the screaming at night, the bizarre amount of scratching at their neck and the pure terror which was so similair to that of Anne and Kate. Cathy had lied about surviving.

She took the laptop and stormed out of the room, she wanted to hear the answers from Parr's own mouth.

"Cathy you lied to our faces!" Jane ran down stairs, laptop in hand, looking as if she could start crying at any second. "What? I would never!" Cathy seemed confused.

"You lied to me! You lied to us!" Jane shoved the laptop into Cathy's hands. The last queen fidgeted with their choker as they read what Jane had found. The other queens, who had been in the kitchen discussing the show, came to see what the comotion was about.

"Mija? What's wrong?" Catalina rushed to her godchild. "I'm so sorry." Was the only thing that left their mouth as sobs started coming out. "You're so! So!" Jane couldn't find the right words after her discovery. "Idiotic." Catalina deadpanned having read the article. Jane nodded. Catalina stood up and towered over the younger.

"Would you guys mind filling us in?" Anna came into the living room, followed by the other two. Jane took the laptop from Cathy's lap and handed it to the three clueless women.

They read through it while Jane and Catalina kept staring at Cathy, waiting for them to say something. "Liebling." Anna seemed to be the first to finish reading as she gave Anne the laptop and rushed to the 'survivor'. "Is this true?" She asked sitting on the table in front of Cathy.

Cathy nodded before hiding their face in their hands. "Why didn't you tell us?" Anne asked looking up from the screen. Cathy only shrugged. Kate slided by her cousin and took the shocked last wife into her arms. "'M sorry Cath." Kate muttered.

"What? I- i'm the one supposed to say sorry." Cathy tried squirming out of Kate's grasp, feeling they didn't deserve the hug. "Kiddo.... i-" Anna started before tearing up herself and hugging the sixth wife. "You could have told us you know." Jane sighed taking Cathy's hand in her own.

Anne moved through the mess of people and took Cathy's other hand. "I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell us." She said pressing a motherly kiss on Cathy's knuckles. "I'm sorry i didn't-" They cried into Anne's shirt. "Why didn't you?" Jane asked. "I don't- i'm sorry- it's just-" Cathy couldn't figure out what to say. "Mija-" Catalina looked at the others questionably. They all got the message and stepped aside. The missing space was filled with the first queen within seconds.

"Calm down querida. I'm sorry you felt like you had to keep this all in. That must have been awful." Catalina rubbed the youngers back, twirling their curls with her other hand.

Cathy sobbed into their godmothers shirt. "It-it was! It was awful."

"Yeah i bet so." Catalina cooed, a soft smile on her face. The others looked at the scene with concern and relief. Catalina sat her godchild on her lap and the others took their earlier places. "Do you want to talk about it?" Anna asked. Cathy considered before shaking their head.

"That's understandable. Just-. Just know we love you." This time Cathy nodded. Anne stared at the choker Cathy had on. "Take that ridiciously uncomfortable thing off. It's made of some harsh material and i really reccomend not wearing it. Ever." She struggled with it before taking it off. Catalina stared at the now obvious scar on Cathy's neck.

She carressed it, careful not to hurt Cathy in the process. "You're safe here darling." She muttered. "I know." Cathy answered. "I'm sorry i didn't tell you."

"It's fine." Kate said softly. "I get it."

"Divorced beheaded died survived beheaded beheaded doesn't really sound nice." Jane joked causing the others to laugh.

"Now... group hug?" Anna asked. "Sounds perfect." Catalina helped Cathy stand up. Before pulling Anne and Jane with her. Anna pulled Kate in the hug, no one said anything when Cathy was gently moved to the center. Immediatly becoming invisible to any on looker as the much taller queens surrouneded her.

The queens had ended up on Cathy's bed fighting for space. Cathy laughed the moment they came in to the room. "Are you kidding me?" They giggled. "We thought you needed some comfort." Jane chuckled.

Cathy laughed. "You sleep on the couch there's no space left." Anna smirked playfully. "Excuse you? This is my room." Cathy retorded jumping onto the edge of the bed. "There's six of us on a two person bed now." Kate said putting her phone down.

"Yeah it's a two person bed Cathy. With who do you sleep?" Anne teased with a smirk. "If you're suggesting that i have a girlfriend. Then you're wrong. I'm completely single and have never, atleast in this life, slept with someone." Cathy smiled. "It's just more space for me." They giggled. "Why do they get a two person bed when i'm left with a one person bed!" Kate screamed, though far from angry.

"You're much less worthy then me." Cathy teased sitting beside their giggling godmother. "Why you little-!" Kate got off the bed and took Cathy with her, who squealed as they were taken off the bed.

The remaining laughed. Anna joining in with the banter herself.

The others had finally settled down. They'd moved the matress from Jane and Anna's room and the one from Catalina and Anne into Cathy's room. Anna and Jane were sleeping togheter. The beheaded cousins decided to sleep togheter as well, though Anne wanted to sleep with Catalina as well. The last two remaining were whispering to each other. They didn't have a specific topic to talk about so it was all silly nothing.

"Don't kill each other!"

Catalina stared at Cathy's neck, more specifically the scar on there. "Can i touch it?" She asked looking into her godchilds eyes. Cathy nodded, though Catalina nearly didn't see it with how dark it was.

She gently carresed the scar, again making sure to not hurt the younger. "I'm so sorry that happened Mi vida." She whispered. "It's fine. There's nothing we can do about it now." Cathy sighed. "Does it hurt?" Catalina asked. "Sometimes. Mostly after a nightmare." Cathy answered this time sighing in content.

"I would have told you it's just-" Catalina shushed the last wife. "I get it. You were the last wife of his. You felt you needed to be strong." Cathy nodded, sobbing into Catalina's hoodie. "I'm sorry pup." Catalina muttered pressing a kiss to Cathy's forehead. Cathy let out a choked laugh.

"Pup?" That's new." Catalina giggled. "Thought it fit you." Both laughed this time. "I like it." Cathy smiled.

[mechanicalinertia]

STMPD Anti-Recommends Bubblegum Crisis Fanfiction: Neo No Armor Against Fate

Okay. Round 2. Alternating between the ones I like and the ones I don't like should be - fun. I think. I hope.

Actually, before we start I'm going to link you, dear reader, to a little something called the Bubblegum Crisis Fanfiction Guide. All its links go up to the year 2000, with most of them linking to what used to be Usenet - rec.arts.anime.creative.bgc was its old sub-sub-sub-heading. And although Usenet is now Google Groups, an ancient, dead thing I suspect will go the way of Yahoo Groups soon enough, as sure as Geocities was stomped out by that foolish little company, and although the updated links from 2009 now make you download gunzip files, which are not exactly in common use anymore, you can just find a better mirror here. It won't work on mobile, though. If one browser forces you to download the gunzips, try another one.

Also, what you're about to bear witness to is a remake of 'No Armor Against Fate' - Hagen wrote that from '94-'97 then rewrote it in 2000, saying he always felt the first version was a first draft. Called it a 'short novel' - Neo clocks in at 440K words, an epic if there ever was one. Said it ignores Crash's developments, which a lot of fanfiction gladly did. It's - well. It is not very good.

Reader, do you think it's weird that I'm doing this? Linking you to a fanfiction that I despise deeply and then gesturing wildly about as to why it's bad? While also refusing to highlight specific passages, instead relying on memory because I feel so strongly about not wanting to read this thing in earnest? I must come off as so tsundere.

But that isn't going to stop me. This is a fic much beloved by the old guard of BGC fanfic writers, and even if the fandom is deader than my late granddad, I still would like to take the opportunity to rip some bandages off and say no, it is not good.

While Neo appears to be about the Knight Sabers in 2034 at first blush, it is not. A great many fanfics from this era are the same - Original Character arrives, fucks shit up, either joins the Knight Sabers or fights them. And like I said in my last post (and in my mini-review of Grand Mal), this creates more misses than hits because it's so hard to swim out from under the Mary Sue impulse, there. And although Hagen may not appear to be walking that path at first, that's only because he's using the trope of the Villain Sue, the Admiral Thrawns of this world, folks who are aggressively competent at committing cold-hearted evil and can send the heroes on the run even if they themselves are technically underlings of the Big Bad.

So: Domino Odette is arguably our protagonist, then. A Sexaroid with the upload of Brian J. Mason's consciousness that Largo was built from, revived by one of Mason's Boomer-Woman bodyguards from OVAs 2 & 3. Only, Largo was crazy and megalomanaical, but Odette has had all those parts sheared off. She's cold, beautiful, 'a mind for business and a body for sin' Hagen says, and patient enough to gain power and to serve GENOM as effectively as possible. She kills the real Domino Odette offscreen, takes her place as an executive - and Quincy finds out immediately, then says 'eh, whatever, we're cool so long as you know who's boss'. And, you know, she does.

So over 440K words and five big story arcs we see Domino subtly dominate just about everyone - Reika Chang comes into town in Arc 2 and Domino makes her feel useless and gets one over on the Chang Group, she gradually wrests power from Kate Madigan, et cetera. Eventually, she uncovers the Sabers' identities effortlessly, brings them in effortlessly, and has them help GENOM deal with some people Largo brainwashed who are attempting to wreck earth via lunar massdriver. The Knight Sabers are destroyed and no one, not even Sylia, seems to bat a fucking eye - actually, she and Domino have a relationship, but then Domino breaks it off and they go their separate ways. Domino continues, as seen in the epilogue, to do evil things to accumulate power for GENOM, and it's all treated as just what happens, what will happen, inevitably.

Look, it doesn't help that Shawn has no idea what exclamation marks are, never uses them, and that his sentences, his paragraph-to-paragraph prose, is dull, dry, exhausting to read in its boringness. Somehow Canada bested the US as North America's superpower -figure that out - and he just mentions that in less than a paragraph and does nothing with it.

It all kind of blurs together, you know? I don't like Domino, but I think Shawn does despite her supposedly being an antihero or grudgingly-respectable villainess, so willingly does he heap capabilities and victories in her court. There's literally a point where the Sabers try to extract someone from GENOM, he appears to be dead, everyone just kind of goes home, and yet Domino and GENOM are somehow able to revive him - not by anything connected to Mason's Largo-oid upload, just, you know, technology. It gets worse when you realize Domino isn't a woman of reasonable age, but looks like this:

Yeah, see the loli on Sylia's back? That's her. She's a fucking loli of the 'ackshually she's an adult so it's okay for me to lewd her' type, decades before anime fans started making fun of themselves for that shit. A body built for sin, too. Jesus Christ, Hagen.

So: Bad Prose. Bad Main Character. What else is up there?

Uh, the Sabers themselves? Nevermind that Hagen packs the world with more original characters in the Sabers' civilian life than strictly necessary, but they all seem to lack, I dunno, loyalty to the cause? As though they're all just waiting to be dunked on - they move on with their lives, move up in the world until the Sabers can't be reliably sustained. Which is annoying enough that the threat of GENOM isn't such a big deal as it would be in other, better fic, but then we get Devon Okami, who is just... ugh.

Devon is a co-founder of GENOM, second only to Quincy in his clout. Linna ends up dating him even though he's like thirty years her senior, and ends up taking her in when GENOM puts out the call (oops, guess you shouldn't have trusted him, eh). Also he's Priss's grandfather or something, so Priss is a lost girl who could be incredibly wealthy and doesn't know it. Which is a contrivance decades-older fiction has used before, and was stupid then, and is stupid now.

Really, the whole story's theme seems to be that megacorporations like GENOM cannot be stopped, not by normal people or by superheroes like the Sabers. In the end, Sylia has to essentially receive the right to make her own Boomer-building company because Quincy feels like it. She moves on with her life - changes the locks to get rid of the other three Sabers, who move on with their lives as well, as if the friendship they had meant nothing to any party.

"GENOM has lead the way, and we will follow, and we will be the better for it," an editorial in the epilogue (not found in this particular instance of Neo), says. And that's the thing. GENOM cannot be destroyed by the Sabers - Sylia literally says 'its time will come' but what will happen in the interim? Domino's power, her endless string of hostile takeovers and assassinations, remains unstopped - is , again, necessary. "GENOM with a purpose is a useful organism," Domino says, and "without a purpose it is cancer", but that's all in the context of Quincy giving it purpose.

It's... it's really based off of that one monologue by Sylia in OVA 8, isn't it? Where GENOM can't be destroyed because it does occasionally do good for the world? It's a very 90's 'neoliberal' ethos, this. The corporations have won, they'll develop new hopefully-beneficial technology, all we have to do is ride the rainbow and accept they'll do evil things, too, and live with that. It's the End Of History, forty years in the future. Worse still is that it makes Sylia say that her crusade against GENOM was all revenge and therefore was bad because 'revenge bad' is the message of a lot of core BGC. That any attempt to fight the system is inevitably personal and therefore childish is - an opinion I cannot agree with.

Boy. God. Damn. Maybe if you read Neo not knowing that it would build to this political bootlicking sort of stance you might enjoy it. But I can't, not anymore. I'm too far gone, folks. I've read my David Graeber and I tell you that megacorps hold back technology being used for liberating purposes by simply crimping all of technological devlopment in the first place. I will not let an evil loli tell me that some of us may die, but that is a sacrifice she is willing to make.

[katedrakeohd]

What Happens in Paris...(7)

Masterlist

Back at the train, the men and women separate to get ready for the tea party. Down in Max and Drake’s shared room, Drake is sitting on his bed watching Max do his primp and polish in front of the mirror. Impeccably dressed in his black Gucci dress shirt and trousers, Maxwell is running a comb through his neatly trimmed hair and whistling. If he wasn’t his friend, Drake could almost hate him for it. His clothing style rarely changed. His way of taking his day look into a night look usually involved the undoing of a button on his shirt, and the addition of a hair product to keep himself looking sharp when he broke out the moves on the dance floor. Drake knew though, even by day when Maxwell appeared to be calm and collected there was always a three ring circus, complete with peacocks, going on inside his head.

Drake looked down at Maxwell’s shiny black shoes, and then glanced at his own scuffed and worn looking brown ones. As much as Drake didn’t want to dress all fancy for a Royal tea party today, he knew that Kate was expected to be there. Plus he wanted to witness the look of envy on Maddy’s face when Kate walked in all dressed up and stole away attention from the future Queen. Although he usually wouldn’t give a damn how he looked when he skulked his way into events after everyone else important arrived. This time he knew Kate would be under Liam’s lustful eye, and it made his stomach ache at the thought. If he was going to escort Kate into this stupid party, even as her seemingly platonic friend, he had to make an effort to fit in for his own peace of mind. Drake cleared his throat to get Maxwell’s attention. I can’t believe I’m doing this again. Heaven help me.

“Uh, Max? About this party today… I can’t exactly show up looking like some bum off the street. Could you help me pick out something fit to wear?”  

Maxwell gasped, dropping the lint roller he was using to remove fluff and hair from his trouser leg. “Really?! You’ll let me dress you up for two events in a row?”

Drake sighs, getting up from the bed and running his hands through his hair. “Well don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“It is a big deal. My grumpy best friend wants to impress a girl!”

Drake grimaced, “Tone it down will ya? Besides, you are not my best friend.”

Maxwell is unfazed by the brush off and just raises his eyebrows, nodding, “Oh right! We’re even better than that now. We’re family!”

Drake opens his mouth to protest and then closes it again. Technically Max was right, as painful as it was for him to admit. He raises his hands and gives Max an impatient head shake, “Alright! Alright! Whatever! Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Of course I will. Show me what you got.”

Drake holds his hands out to the sides to display his current denim disaster.

“No, no silly.” Maxwell drags over Drake’s suitcase and flops it onto the bed. Drake places a protective hand on top, shakes his head.

“No point in looking in there," Drake grumbles.

“Okay then, to the Royal Closet we go.”

Kate sits in front of Hana’s portable makeup mirror, while Hana runs a round brush through her hair, coaxing it into soft waves. “I love your hair Kate, it’s so soft and manageable. What shampoo do you use?”

With a shrug, Kate admires her freshly painted fingernails. “Some kind of fruity scented stuff that I bought at the drugstore. Drake forgot to grab the matching conditioner when we showered, so I hope my hair doesn't get all full of static and frizz.”

Hana meets Kate's gaze in the mirror and they both giggle. “Oh my goodness, Kate. No wonder you two were late for breakfast.”

Trying to hide her blush in the lighted mirror was impossible, “Yeah, well I did interrupt him while he was shaving this morning. And damn he looked sexy in that bathrobe.”

Hana sighed with envy as she parted Kate’s hair and swept it behind her shoulder. Kate hands her the golden, flower embellished comb from the counter. “What’s it like Kate?”

“What?”

“Having a King and his best friend both in love with you?”

"It's not as fun as you might think. They've both staked their claim on me in some way and I hate being the rope in their tug of war. The worst part is that Liam has already lost me and he doesn't know it yet."

“Poor guy, he’s going to be crushed. What does Drake have that Liam doesn't?”

“He doesn't have the weight of the kingdom sitting on his head and shoulders, nor does he have a bunch of noble ladies fighting over him. Plus he’s nobody important to the press or tabloids. I’m not as worried about being seen with him, because I know he’ll protect me.”

“He’s not worried about being pulled into the Tariq scandal with you?” Hana asks, a look of concern on her face.

Kate shrugs, “I know he doesn't regret coming to my rescue, except for maybe the punches Tariq landed on his ribs. He was very much a gentleman about the whole thing, which is a lot more than I can say for Tariq.”

“But speaking of having two guys interested at the same time, what about Neville and Rashad?”

Hana wrinkles up her nose with a frown of disgust, “They're so boring. And neither were very nice to Penelope when we first met them.”

Kate applies a pale pink lip gloss to the center of her bottom lip to enhance her lipstick, pressing her lips together and then checking the results in the mirror, “Well frankly, since finding out she participated in the smear campaign against me, Penelope isn't one of my favorite people either. But I get what you’re saying, especially with Neville. He creeps me out in the same way Tariq does. Rashad seems to be marginally better than his friend as far as character goes, having made his own way as a businessman. He’s not depending on his Father’s money like Neville.”

Hana tilts her head, considering Kate’s thoughts. “I suppose you make a good point. But still, neither are as important, charismatic, charming or handsome as the King.”

Kate smirks, “Liam's definitely a charmer. I wonder sometimes what he sees in an ordinary barmaid like me. Or what Drake does either.”  Kate meets Hana's gaze in the mirror. "Am I really worth all this fuss? What's so special about me that loving one man must mean breaking the other's heart?"

"You mean besides your charisma, charm, intelligence and beauty? You're a genuinely nice person Kate, and everyone is drawn to you. The other women in the room envy you when the men all look your way."

Kate turns around to look up at Hana, seeing the admiration in her eyes. "You're all of these things and more, Hana."

Hana looks down at her shoes, shyly,  "I wish. My parents have invested so much into my training, refinement and education. But they've rarely praised me for any of my achievements. Sometimes I feel like they'd throw me at any available bachelor if it would raise my status on the social ladder, especially if it got our names in the media back home."

Standing up from her seat, Kate places her hands on Hana's shoulders. "Hey now, don't beat up on yourself. You're more than just some guy's arm candy or potential wife. You need to stand up and grab the future you want for yourself. To Hell with your parents’ expectations. I bet you could excel at anything you put your mind to. You don't need a man to raise your status. Be the strong independent woman I know you can be.”

Hana smiles, “Thanks Kate. I wish I’d met you years ago. You're the type of friend I've been missing all my life.”

Kate smiles back, “You’ve been here for me too, so it's only right that I return the favor.”

Stepping back from Hana, Kate strikes a pose with one hand on her hip, raising the other in a provocative sweep of her hair to highlight her face and bare shoulders. “So what do you think of my finished look?”

Hana smiles broadly, with a clap of approval at her stylish handiwork. “You're going to be hotter than the tea, that’s for sure.”

Kate winks, “Damn straight. We are.”

Drake stands outside of Kate's train compartment, fidgeting. Dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and dark grey trousers, with his hair combed and set with some of Maxwell's styling compound; he felt like a teenager on Prom night. Drying his sweaty hand on his thigh, he's reminded of how thin the fabric feels compared to his usual denim. The way the slim fit of the pant legs hugged his thighs made him feel so exposed, almost naked, and he was starting to regret not opting for his usual jeans. But Maxwell had assured him that he looked good, and that he’d fit in just fine at the party.

He hoped he looked good enough to escort Kate. The sudden absurdity of wanting to dress up for a tea party makes him chuckle and he shakes his head. Damn it Kate, what have you done to me?

Sucking in a deep breath he knocks on Kate’s door and waits.

…

Crouching down to secure the gold strap of her shoe around her ankle, Kate hears the buzzing sound of a text message coming from inside her purse. She glances up, “I bet that’s Drake.”

Hana gets a pinging sound on her phone seconds later, “It's a group text from Liam. The cars arranged to take us to the tea party have arrived. We're to meet in the dining car to coordinate who is traveling with whom.”

Kate breathes a sigh, picking up her clutch. “Ok, off we go then.”

.

Drake is leaning against the wall looking at his phone when he hears the sound of voices to his right, causing him to look up. Kate and Hana are giggling as they approach hand in hand, and then they stop as Kate sees Drake and gasps. “Oh..my...God! Look at you.”

With a smirk, Drake straightens up blushing. “What..do I look that bad?”

Kate shakes her head, then appraises Drake all over again with a head tilt and a slow look from head to toe and then back up again. “Nah, ah. Hardly. You’re looking like a tasty snack.”

Drake clears his throat, raising his eyebrows. “Heh, look who's talking. If I’m a snack you're definitely dessert.”

Hana grins at them both, rolling her eyes, “Ok lovebirds, quit with the flirty food talk and making eyes at each other we’ve got a party to get to.”

Stepping aside, Drake nods. “But of course, after you Ladies.”

Taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes as Kate passes him in the hall, Drake falls into step a few paces behind them. Damn she smells nice, this party isn’t going to be torture at all.

:::

tagging: @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @mskaneko @speedyoperarascalparty @dcbbw @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @drakexwillow @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @gardeningourmet @drakesensworld @mfackenthal @thequeenchoices @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @wickedgypsymoon @griselda1121 @indiacater @texaskitten30 @nikkis1983 @lynne1993 @bobasheebaby @drakesfiance @moonlightgem7 @princessleac1 @janezillow @jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @furiousherringoperatortoad @samihatuli @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @masterofbluff

[roswelldetails]

Episode 2x04 - What if God Was One of Us

EPISODE SUMMARY:

AN ACT OF GOD — On the verge of a breakthrough in her quest to save Max (Nathan Dean), Liz (Jeanine Mason) turns to Kyle (Michael Trevino) for one last favor that could potentially land him in hot water. Meanwhile, Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Alex’s (Tyler Blackburn) investigation into Nora (guest star Kayla Ewell) leads them to a farm, where they meet a historian named Forrest (guest star Christian Antidormi). Elsewhere, Cameron (guest star Riley Voelkel) confronts Jesse Manes (Trevor St. John) about her sister’s whereabouts, and Isobel (Lily Cowles) uses her powers for good. Amber Midthunder also stars. Shiri Appleby directed the episode written by Steve Stringer & Christopher Hollier (#204). Original airdate 4/6/2020.

DETAILS:

Roy said that he took veterinary training, which is how he was able to help with Louise and Nora's injuries.

"How come it feels like you don't know what I'm saying, but you know what I'm thinking?"

Roy moved the truck (with the pods in it?) to the livery.

"Boss's wife won't let him blame the drought on God so that honor goes to his foreman -- that's me."

Kyle on The Science:

"You're telling me that Michael Guerin used pinball parts and a car battery to cause cutaneous perfusion?

(Cutaneous perfusion...i think it is circulation of fluid/blood through tissue, but it's a bit above my head)

The device Liz needs is a "Personal Genome Machine". She ordered it when she still worked at the hospital.

Before entering the Crashdown, Graham Green tapes a Missing sign on the door for Hank Gibbons (who Noah killed in 1x13).  Apparently someone covered it up.

The sign is HARD to read, but I think it says:

"All viable leads reported to Graham Green's UFO Emporium will receive a free keychain.  Make certain you subscribe to the Weekly Probe as we dive deeper into the untold stories of Roswell and answer the question on everyone's mind.  ARE YOU NEXT?"

Graham Green references that he's the "creator of last week's 39th most downloaded true crime podcast." (Assuming that this is the Weekly Probe, referenced on the poster).

Graham Green is opening a 1947 themed malt shop at the UFO Emporium

U.F. Doughs (the Crashdown's new donuts).

Isobel's been coming to the Crashdown every day for weeks.  (Note that this episode is the first one that really doesn't have a clear time context).

"Feliz cumpleanos, mama!" Happy birthday in Spanish, of course, but note Kyle's choice term of endearment for fic purposes!  And she responds in kind "Gracias, mijo!" (Mijo = male version. Arturo calls Liz mija = female version)

"A wild Michael Guerin finally emerges from his weeks-long hibernation in a lab and a library."

Again, non-specific time frame.

"When every other farm was struggling, the Longs experienced record-breaking crops.  Summer of '47. No one could explain it…till October '48. The day after that photo ran in the paper, the farm was devastated by a massive fire.  Foreman, entire staff killed. Whole place burned down."

"What caused the fire?"

"Well the paper called it an act of God.  Said it was a freak storm. Bolt of lightning strikes the barn the same night that my mom's caught and locked up in Caulfield."

Wyatt Long's horses are named "Diamond" and "Silk".

Jesse Manes' beer of choice is "Polestaff".

Cam's postcard from Charlie (Likely the reason she came back to Roswell) says:

"See you back in Roswell --Charlotte"

Top left corner says "Greetings from Roswell, NM".

It was mailed to Jenna at the Green Hill Motel in Dayton, Ohio.

Jenna says it's not Charlie's handwriting.

Isobel in the mindwarp: "And what's your dream, Arturo? What would be your miracle? What do you pray for?"

Arturo & Rosa's fight… 

"Did that fool give you drugs? I'll kill him!"

"Ow! You're hurting me! That's child abuse!"

"Everything I do I do to hold you up and you see it as abuse. I don't know what to do anymore!"

"Yeah right." Rosa falls down and laughs.

"This isn't funny! Sheriff Valenti won't give you any more chances."

"You should be happy. You wanted me to be on the field hockey team, remember? You said I should make friends and have good American fun."

"Who sold you the pills?"

"I stole them."

"Was it Frederico?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Tell me the truth!"

"It was Mom! She's either too high to notice that they're missing, or she knows and she doesn't care."

"You're lying to me. I don't know how to help you."

"So stop trying then. I'm beyond hope anyway, right? That's what everyone else in this town thinks."

"Maybe you're right. I'm going for a drive."

Arturo tried to register with Instagram as PancakePapi!! He ended up with PancakePapi58!

Scene with Steph and her dad...FIRST MENTION OF SOPAPILLAS ON THE SHOW!!! 🤤🤤🤤🤤 (They're the best...in New Mexican restaurants they're like, both an appetizer and a dessert.  They're like hollow fried bread that you eat with honey. Delicious.)  See here:

Plus it gave the show another opportunity to be authentically New Mexican through food references.  (Last season it was in episode 2 when Arturo asked,"red or green?" And Liz replied "Christmas!". In New Mexico that means half red half green chile smothering her plate.) Like so: 

1948...unclear how much time has passed, but Louise says months.

The kid's name is Walt.  (Walt Long?? Some other last name?).

Nora says that under the tarp is the "pumpkin launcher" and it's a surprise.

Nora says it's not safe for Michael here, "but soon."

"Hey do you smell that? It smells like rain.  It's what you smell like under all the grease and bourbon.  It's what your workshop smells like. Something alien happened here. Not that I can still smell it 70 years later."

"This is the best evidence I've seen that Max and Isobel's mother survived the initial firefight. This is something that you do with family."

"Nora's my mother. If she was here at the same time as Louise…"

Note - when did they confirm who Louise was or that she was Max & Isobel's mom? This has not happened narratively yet.

Since Walt was a young kid, Alex thinks there's a chance he's still alive (though at the end Nora definitely thought he died when the barn blew up. I suspect that Walt survived and is the key to the story...not fact, just speculation.)

Forrest: "The foreman, Roy Bronson, was definitely hiding something.  But it wasn't Little Green Men. It was Nazi spies."

"This is like Junior Year eraser room, getting caught by Coach Wiggins."

OG callback to the eraser room being the high school makeout spot. OG, "the eraser room takes our innocence." 

Rosa in Spanish "¿En serio?" Basically "are you serious!?!" Or "really?" When the blender shorts out (awfully similar to her first Noah nightmare in 2x01)

"...when Charlie told me she had stole classified documents, I reported her.  I thought I was doing the right thing and the military put her in prison."

"Right. Where she was safe."

"No. I… I didn't know who she really was when I turned her in. I didn't know what prison would do to her."

"She wanted you to turn her in, Jenna. She set you up to do so. She knew that as long as she was in government custody no one could get to her."

"Charlie fought in two wars.  Who was she afraid of?"

"A private securities firm, most likely.  You know that I met her? She was working on this genetic sequencing project that had the potential to save lives, but also destroy them. And there were some people out there who saw applications for her research that went beyond her intentions."

"She was doing research that could help save lives, and people wanted to use it to create a bioweapon."

"Well yeah, she created this pathogen that could seek out and dismantle specific sequences. Just think about it -- a smart bomb that could be detonated in the middle of a crowded city, only harm it's intended target. Think about the innocent civilian lives saved while you take out leaders of terrorist organizations."

"Or commit genocide. If her work fell into the wrong hands, it could quietly wipe out entire groups of people because they share a certain genetic code, while their neighbors go about living their lives.  Why do you know so much about this? What's your interest in my sister?"

"I believed that I had a use for her pathogen, at one time. But my fight is over now."

A few notes about this exchange.

Clearly Charlie's pathogen is the key ingredient in the smart bomb that Flint was developing, as discussed in 1x12.

Liz's "personal genome machine" can break down the alien genetics and give Project Shepherd what they need to use a smart bomb on the aliens. 

Don't forget, her lab is protected by Air Force security set up by "Alex's team". (Badbadbadbad!)

Rosa describing her bipolarism. 

"I get these mood swings sometimes. Like, I can be happy and singing one minute, and then, all of a sudden, this darkness just closes in over me, and I have all these voices telling me that I'm worthless."

Jesse gives Cam the name of the security firm looking for Charlie.  We don't see the name of it. He warns her to be careful. "I may be hobbled but they are not."

"Now, you were hunting aliens, and I gave you Max's name. Why didn't you lock him up in Caulfield with the rest?"

"I don't know.  I guess I feel like there's a story unfolding in Roswell. Has been for more than 50 years.  You can't blame me for wanting to see how it ends."

Catherine Zeta-Jones in a laser maze -- Liz is referencing the 1999 movie Entrapment.

Liz trying to science-intrigue Kyle….

"Interesting historical footnote. There was an internment camp in Roswell. Nazi POWs built half this city.  Hence the iron crosses. My great-great grandfather BoDean's foreman got busted for hiding a couple of women here. According to him 'A couple Nazi spies escaped and strudeled their schnitzel for room and board right here on this very farm.  See, I was never really as into shooting squirrels as Wyatt is, so, when I came out here for summers as a kid, my cousin Kate and I -- we'd prowl the property for artifacts."

"You know, what we're doing you and me -- it doesn't only have to be for Max...once Max is healthy, we could use this genome machine to Target cellular apoptosis.  I mean, we could craft polymerase sequencing in human DNA. We don't have to stop. We have no boards, no restrictions…"

Apoptosis is also sometimes referred to as "cellular suicide" or "spontaneous single cell death".

Polymerase is like the building blocks of DNA.

In other words, Liz is really, really smart.

FORREST LONG!!!!!! 😂😂😂. 

Alex on the bullet shells: "These match the M1917s the airmen used in '48.

"They were scattered all over the property. Legend has it the Nazis we're building some kind of bomb in the barn. Then one night the Air Force showed up."

"The night of the fire."

"The blaze burned so hot it turned sand to stone. Papers say that lightning struck the barn and everyone died in the flames, but...that's bull.  See I think the Air Force covered up the massacre that happened when they discovered that weapon.

A few things on this scene… 

Forrest mentions his cousin Kate...Wyatt's sister who was murdered by Noah in 2008.  So Forrest is Wyatt Long's cousin. 

Substitute Nazi for alien and it's probably all based somewhat based in truth.  In the 1940s that definitely would have been a reasonably obvious way to cover it up, especially given the history that Forrest cites and the military culture in Roswell.

Note: POW = prisoner of war

The iron crosses Forrest references…

Article on the German POWs in the Roswell Daily Record…

Walt was hiding in the barn when Tripp made it explode.  Explosion looked shimmery, like the alien ship & tech. 

Also, more info than you ever wanted to know about the Roswell Army Air Field/Walker Air Force Base/Roswell International Air Center...including some info on the POWs.

Sheriff Valenti's theory on Noah's death:

"I think Max Evans poisoned Noah and left him in the desert the night of the lightning storm, and I think Isobel Evans was in on it."

Kyle says it would take gallons of acetone to poison someone.

Tripp was Alex's great uncle

Nora was working on a ship to take the pods home.

TRIPP MANES!!!  Full name is Eugene Manes III.

Alex finally gives Michael the piece of alien ship he's had.  He doesn't want to be another Manes man standing in Michael's way.

Cam's voicemail to Liz.

"Got a lead on my sister.  Give me a call when you get that tin-star-wearing E.T. awake, so I can curse him out for worrying us all. Good luck Liz. Bring Max home."

Arturo's Spanish to Liz and Rosa.

"Das gracias a Dios.  Gracias todos los dias."

Translates generally to "Thank God.  Thanks every day."

Isobel's monologue at the end:

"The idea of God always freaked me out. Like, apparently he made people in his own image, which, first of all, get over yourself. And also, does that apply to us? Does every planet have its own God? Let's say that we're all clones of the big guy in the sky. Well then, doesn't it stand to reason that we're all capable of slinging light? Well I guess by that same token we're all capable of tremendous wrath. We're walking contradictions. A never-ending mercurial rise and fall. Darkness and light. I guess the real miracle is choosing the light. Despite the ever-present darkness. Look at us. You're in the middle of a downright biblical desert, galaxies from where we started. I mean, our very existence is a miracle. I'm capable of so much more than I thought I was, Max. I really think that maybe I could do great things. I need you to come back, okay? I need you to be the thing that I can believe in. That doesn't let me down. I just need this one little miracle, and I promise I won't ever ask for anything ever again."

MUSIC:

1. LEN "Steal My Sunshine"

2. Spacehog "In The Meantime"

3. Duke Ellington "Take It Easy"

4. Maná "Como Te Deseo"

5. Oasis "Don't Look Back In Anger"

6. Ben Harper "Waiting On An Angel"

[endless-vall]

This isn't goodbye - Naomi x MC fanfic

Summary: As Ivy prepares to say goodbye to Naomi, she realizes the depth of her feelings for the latter, and how, she can’t let go of her, after all.

Author’s note: Finally got around to posting it. I hope you’ll like it!

That “Last time you could spend with you LI ever” got me really good and I had to go and write a fanfic to calm down my nerves.

Tagging: @liam-rhys @meeraaverywalker @asprankle @writtenbycandy @katurrade @dandeservestheworld @secretnerdharmony. Comment on this post to let me know if you wanna be tagged as well.

Ivy was lying in Naomi's embrace. They've spent the night together, leaving Ivy with a bittersweet taste as she realizes it marked their last night together.

She knew the both of them had lives to go back to, lives that didn't exactly mix together,

But she couldn't bare the thought of saying goodbye to Naomi.

She raised her head, shifting her eyes to look at Naomi.

Naomi was fast asleep. She looked sound, peaceful.

For a slight second every worry left Ivy's mind.

Everything was worth it, if it meant she got to see Naomi secure and content.

But that moment had passed, and Ivy sighed deeply, untangling Naomi's hands from around her and slipping out of her bed.

She didn't plan on going home, not yet at least. But she needed to get some fresh air and to sort out her thoughts.

She didn't see any solution to their problem. Naomi had to stay in Birchport, probably take over Wlash's position and sort out the mess he'd make out of this town's police department and station, and Ivy had to go back to New York, back to her life and possibly get that promotion her manager had hinted at before she left for Kate's wedding.

She couldn't give that up and would never ask Naomi to give up such an opportunity for her as well, but...

Was this the end of their story?

They've been incredible, brilliant, while they lasted.

But was that all they ever gonna be? All they were destined to become?

Ivy's thought weighted on her mind, as she wrapped one of Naomi's bathrobes and went outside.

She minded the door, making sure she didn't make enough noise to wake Naomi up, and then sat on the wooden stairs that led to Naomi's porch.

She rested her face over her hands, scolding at herself.

If this was really the last time she saw Naomi, the last time they got intimate and spent time together, she should be there inside, with her.

Burying her face in her hands, she sighed again in frustration.

A moment of silence had passed, as if the night was mourning with her, until a sudden voice had startled her.

"Ivy?" She looked around her to see Naomi walking out of her house. The door clicked as she shut it close and walked over to where Ivy was sitting.

She was wearing a robe as well, that clung to her every curve and Ivy's eyes wandered over her.

Her voice was soft, mellow and sleepy.

It was angel-like and Ivy longed to be in Naomi's arms once again.

Fortunately, her wishes were granted as Naomi sat down beside her collecting her into her arms.

Naomi stiffled a yawn and she buried her face in the crook of Ivy's neck and murmured against her.

"What are you doing out here? Is everything alright?" She wondered, a hint of concern decorating her voice.

Ivy rested her head on Naomi's shoulder and wrapped her in her arms, pulling her even closer.

"I'm fine, I just have a lot on my mind." She furrowed her eyebrows, while still trying to smile at Naomi.

Naomi leaned backwards and studied Ivy's expression.

She gave her a weak smile but it didn't convince Naomi. She wasn’t buying it.

"Talk to me?" Naomi suggested, her hands sliding down Ivy's arm until they intertwined their fingers together.

Ivy nodded. She didn't want to hide anything from Naomi.

Ivy took a deep breathe. Bracing herself. She found that opening up to Naomi was positively easy, certainly easier that she had it with past partners but still, being so vulnerable didn't come easily to just anyone.

"I... just can't imagine saying goodbye to you. For good.

I know we don't really have much of a choice, but it just feels unfair." She let her shoulders fall and her lips tremble.

"Oh, Ivy..." Naomi breathed out and let her expression fall too.

They hugged again and Ivy could swear she heard Naomi sniffing agaisnst her shoulder.

Finally, after a long moment they broke apart, still tangled together and clinging to each other.

Then, Naomi collected her expression. She looked determinedly at Ivy and Ivy could help but send her a curious, questioning look.

"This isn't the end." She told her, boldly.

"But-" Ivy was about to protest, even though there wasn't anything she wanted more than for this to be true, she didn't want to cling to false hope.

"No, you're right. I can't imagine saying goodbye to you either.

What we have... It's amazing. Ivy, you've made me feel at home for the first time since I left Wyoming.

And if we both don't want it to end here, then it shouldn't." Naomi was holding tightly onto Ivy and in that moment, Ivy truly believed her.

"So... this isn't goodbye." It sounded more of a question rather than a statement, but Naomi was nodding at her reassuringly.

"This isn't goodbye." Naomi repeated, confirming.

Ivy let a sigh of relief out of her lips, before she caressed Naomi's face and pulled her into a kiss.

She planted her lips over hers, feeling how Naomi leaned into her, relaxing into the kiss.

They both giggled when they broke apart, every ounce of doubt and sorrow leaving them, in such contrast to their kisses from the beginning of the evening.

"We'll find a way, we'll figure it out." Naomi whispered, trailing kisses along Ivy's neck and jaw, nibbling on her sweet spots.

Ivy shut her eyes, throwing her head back and giving Naomi better access.

Naomi made an enthusiastic sound at that and dragged her teeth alongside her neck, not too harshly but enough to make Ivy whimper under her touch.

"Come back to bed?" Naomi suggested after a long make out session. Ivy giggled giddily and leaned her head over Naomi's shoulder.

"We probably should..." She murmured sleepily, tiredness washing over her.

"But I don't want this moment to end..." She admitted, fighting to stay awake.

Naomi reached for Ivy's hand and brought it to her lips, kissing the back of the palm of her hand and humming contently.

"I know what you're talking about. " She mused, pulling Ivy closer and helping her up.

Ivy blinked her eyes open, looking over at Naomi.

"But like we already decided, this isn't goodbye. So we'll have many more moments like this one to share in the future.

And we need some sleep right now." She determined.

"So let's go?" She gestured towards the door and Ivy nodded, letting Naomi guide her.

"Ah!!!" When she said guide, she didn't think Naomi would lift her up over her shoulder and carry her effortlessly inside.

Naomi made it look easy, and definitely shook her awake.

"Put me down--" She managed to demand whole bursting into laughter.

"Nope." Naomi carried her firefighter-style until they reached her bed, and then put her gently on top of the comfy sheets.

Ivy blinked at Naomi.

God.

She was in love with that woman, wasn't she?

She decided not to tell, not yet. But the mere realization was enough for her to feel ecstatic, like she was floating over clouds, despite her exhaustion.

Naomi climbed on top of the bed, and plopped down over Ivy.

They both giggled sleepily, before settling into a blissful sleep.

Ivy wrapped her hands around Naomi, and Naomi nuzzled herself into Ivy's embrace.

Yes, they could make this work.

They have to. After all, you don't find this kind of connection, this kind of love, just anywhere.

And this was worth fighting for.