#This is what happens when you need 5+ years experience for an entry level job

[sandshadow9]

So from what I understand, the application process to get into Jade Mountain Academy is a bit wishy washy. As far as I know the students are usually picked by the Queens of each Tribe but also the DoD get as say in who they want there as well. Or something like that.

The only reason I'm asking is because I want to know who was shifting through all the SandWing applications, dozens upon dozens of little dragonets who just wanted a chance to go to a nice school, and decided that the grown ass woman named Onyx needed to be there.

[mrhaitch]

hi mr.haitch!

as someone who's interested in academia, do you think you can speak a bit about your experiences and journey? it's something i've had my eye on for a bit but honestly don't even know where to begin and idk if i'm just having a mini life crisis because i'm feeling unfulfilled in my current field.

I think I've spoken about this before, but I'll do it again. Please note that I am currently not in academia at present, although I do have plans to return. Currently I'm teaching functional skills in English and maths to kids in their late teens (many of them with severe emotional, behavioural, or learning disorders) so this will be more of a retrospective.

(Be warned, it's long)

Let's get one thing very clear: I was a bad student and my road into academia is and remains crooked. I had bad grades in highschool, an appalling attendance record, and spent a great deal of highschool in detention. It is a miracle that I finished highschool, and a further miracle that I was accepted by a college, and fluked through my A-levels.

I never paid attention in class unless it was something I cared about. Homework was a mythical concept, I never participated, rarely engaged, and generally treated school with disdain.

And I didn't get better until I was in my twenties.

Some of it was anxiety, a lot of it was arrogance.

So fast forward through my undergrad years where I oscillated wildly between workaholic frenzy (political philosophy, existentialism, philosophy of religion) to staunch absenteeism (philosophy of language, socratic philosophy). In my final year things kind of clicked, I knuckled down, got into a few fights with my lecturers, forced my grades up, and came out with a good enough grade to get onto a masters course.

This was largely in thanks to my writing, which I'd become increasingly dedicated to, completing and submitting my first (and thankfully unpublished novel) in the process. During my master's I revelled in the greater degree of independence, how I could direct and engage with the material in my own way, and how it connected with my passions (creative writing). I still had an arrogant moment, failed to prepare for an assignment and failed it. The failure capped my overall grade at a pass which sank any hope for a scholarship.

Dejected and pissed off, I then took the first job that came my way and gave up on academia. I languished in the service industry for four years and thought I'd amount to nothing more. Some political nonsense happened towards the end, I pushed back against the wrong people who promptly tried to fire me under false (and illegal) pretenses.

Haitch pushed me to look into doing my PHD again. I applied, teaching out to one of my old MA teachers to be my supervisor and he accepted with far more enthusiasm than I could've hoped for. I got a loan from the government and vowed to throw myself at my PHD as hard as I could, and I did.

From 2019 until early 2023, I worked five days a week (plus some time in the weekends) on my thesis and my writing. 8-5 every day with my nose in a book, or plugging away at a manuscript, or drafting papers. I lived and breathed it every second. I kept a journal where I pushed myself to work harder and harder to achieve what I felt was my dream. During that time I was determined to come out with my experience and qualifications than I could possibly need for an entry position. I shadowed my colleagues when they taught classes, exchanged emails with academics I admired, published more short fiction.

Brick by brick I built a portfolio and a modest reputation. Then I was invited to speak at a prestigious convention in the UK. I met legendary literary agents, famous authors, hung out with people I admired, and had a chance to read some of my work to an audience and discuss its themes.

I taught for two years, while at the same time working two other contracts for various outreach bodies teaching and supporting kids from deprived or disadvantaged backgrounds.

And I still can't get a permanent position.

I've been shortlisted once or twice, and knocked back at the first hurdle a whole bunch.

Academic positions are like gold dust scattered down the back of a unicorn as it leaps over a double rainbow. It is hard to get a job teaching and researching at a university, especially in the humanities. It is endless rejection with minimal feedback, banging your head against a brick wall over and over wondering if you felt it move or if you've just softened your skull.

It's hard, very hard, and takes a lot of commitment and a lot of sacrifice, with zero guarantee you'll get anyway.

But you do it because you can't imagine yourself doing anything else.

The eagle eyed amongst you will recognise this as the same conclusion I reached about writing, and they're right. It's the same. Often thankless, frequently difficult. A feeling of toiling alone in the dark, waiting for someone, anyone to peer into the well you fell down.

But as hard as it is, if that's the path you've chosen, a part of you doesn't care. You do it anyway. You do it in spite of what it costs you, and the little it gives back.

At least, that's how I see it. Thank you for attending my rambling, somewhat doom-laden, TED talk.

[geometricalien]

AkaFuri AU w/ the plot of "Cherry Magic!"

Furihata is Adachi - an average, plain-looking office worker who gains the ability to hear people's thoughts after remaining a virgin for 30 years.

Akashi is Kurosawa - the most handsome, popular guy at his office who's well-liked by his colleagues...and he also happens to harbor a romantic crush on Furihata for a long, long time.

I never heard of this bl before but I've been reading the manga since and it's fantastic! (Apparently an anime adaptation is coming soon too!!) And it is so so akafuri coded

Furi and Adachi both being introvert types, quiet, kind, observant (although the observant thing is amplified considerably by him being able to read their thoughts). Akashi and Kurosawa both being "perfect popular guys" with a different closeted world far from that perception.

The entire time I was reading the manga I kept thinking back to this ask like, okay now they are in this shogo situation, Akashi is constantly thinking about how cute Furihata is, he's dreaming about their possible future together, there is all these mixed signals, their first date he is so nervous to make it the perfect date- he buys a $200 rose bouquet and arranges a helicopter tour over the city, he has their rings already bought- its all so akafuri coded!

But alas... the urge to insert fanon/canon is strong. It's hard to imagine an office au with Akashi Seijuurou without him being An Akashi. I'm not saying every fic or office au needs Akashi to be a big wig at daddy's company- I've enjoyed plenty of fics where he isn't. What I am saying is that the familiar tropes are calling me.

Kurosawa's main problem is that people sometimes only see him for his handsome face and the persona of "cool popular guy". Akashi's main problem is that he is an Akashi and how that affects how people see him and how his upbringing affects the way he interacts with the world. So an akafuri au makes more sense if Akashi's problems in the company are how everyone around him will always have the presumption that he is a nepo baby (which he is) but he is also damn good at his job and he feels the need to constantly put in the extra effort, the long hours, to get across that this is serious to him.

That all said, we will shift from the "we entered the company at the same time and have been colleagues for 5/6 years at the same department" to "Akashi began his circuit of the various departments at the same time that Furihata joined, spending a year at each department at an entry level position to see how every section works in application, and now he is going to be doing the circuit again but at a managerial/presidential position in each department so he gets a feel for the overview, such that in his late thirties he will have had experience in each department- both in the thick grunt work and eagle eye supervising- and finally he will work with his father in the executive offices training and be in the process to hand over the company when Akashi is in his fourties."

Yes very complicated, very drawn out plan. But I think this actually makes a lot of sense to me. Masaomi is a fine detail guy, he is going to raise Akashi in the same way. And when it comes to the thing that he has devoted his life to, I think Masaomi would want Akashi to understand and value the departments, the people, the history from the ground up. (I know its popular fanon that Akashi has been reviewing company documents from the time he was in high school/college- think this type of executive grunt work or internship (if you can call it that) would continue throughout his tours of the departments- we all know how over worked Akashi is, you think that will stop when he gets to the family company?? fjdskalfj)

I imagine that during their first year at the company something similar happens at a dinner with clients where Akashi takes Furihata's drink he doesn't want to drink and turns down one of the clients hanging on his arm. Akashi gets a bit too tipsy and ends up needing air and rests his head on Furihata's lap,

"Sorry, this is quite unprofessional of me."

Furihata laughs. "Maybe, but it's refreshing. You always seem so put together and serious. I forget we're the same age."

"Mmm." Akashi hums not sure what to say.

But Furihata continues on. "You work twice as hard as us and you stay behind most days of the week even when you don't have to. It's kinda scary, I sometimes wonder if you'll burn yourself out. Then I come in the next day and you're still smiling, greeting everyone. It's amazing. You're a hard worker, Akashi-san. But I really like this other side of you."

"... Thank you, Furihata-san."

And in the following weeks Akashi keeps an eye on Furihata, aware of a fluttering in his heart whenever they catch eyes. Then he has to switch departments. In the coming years he is watches the people coming into work, trying to look for Furihata and maybe exchange smiles or a word or two. But it's never enough for him. Yet, he has a job to do.

Years later with minimal interactions between them in the mornings or during company holiday events, Akashi is moved back to Furihata's department as a vice president. Furihata, for his part, has been promoted to team lead and is considered an integral part of the department. They work in close association and all seems normal.

Until Furihata's 30th birthday agshjdkd

I might mull on this a bit longer and mayyybbeee something may come out of it

[beeseverywhen]

What does a working class job look like

Now the job thing is a trap. People look at 'white collar' and 'blue collar' jobs when realistically, in 2024 an experienced self employed electrician doing well paying work is higher up the scale than a call centre office worker on minimum wage. If we want to look at what a modem day working class job looks like, in a world where many traditional jobs no longer exist and many common jobs are new, we need to break it down. What does a working class job look like?

A cornerstone of working class jobs is a power imbalance. In most working class jobs you find a lack of choice, especially at the bottom (there are different levels to working class, we'll get to that). You take whats avaliable because you need a job. If the boss treats you poorly, if they break employment laws, If the job begins to break your body (or mind) you'll struggle to leave. You can't just quit and find a new one, you NEED that job. That's why unions are so important (and why its handy to convince call centre workers they arent working class and dont need a union.)

They are jobs you learn on the job. They are entry level. You don't study to get in to these jobs, you don't dream of one day getting in to one. You simply take what you can get. Often it'll be the same job your parents or family members do.

Another key indicator is how much work you do. Are you expected to clock in and work for your entire shift? If you've finished the work you're expected to do, can you rest? Or are you expected to always look busy? Is there a focus on efficiency, getting the most from every worker. Were you employed for what YOU can do? As an individual? Or are you just another worker? Slogging away at a shared pool of work that never seems to diminish?

We also need to look at responsibilities. Is your job about overlooking other people working? Or are you on the bottom of the ladder doing the work (be that making something, taking calls, recording information, cleaning something, moving things, watching people or cctv, and on and on) Now this isn't to say that a supermarket supervisor isn't a working class job, as I mentioned earlier there are different levels of working class.

The final thing I consider to be important is the ability to work your way up. Traditionally, this was much more common and so jobs that once may have been acceptable for the middle classes, are now working class jobs. These are your dead end jobs. Any progression is for the lucky few and is entirely limited to those few levels in the job hierarchy above you. You will not get any higher, no matter how hard you work. In fact, at many jobs, working as hard as possible in a entry level position is a reason for you NOT to be promoted. You'll see this in retail and service jobs. It happens in high street banks, call centres, supermarkets and restaurants. The corporate jobs overseeing the work on the ground are generally restricted to people coming in to the company, often through graduate programs or old school tie networks.

Working class jobs in the 2020s are diverse. And many of them are jobs that have not traditionally been working class. An increase in efficiency thanks to new technology has lead to companies being able to replace higher paid workers, with non specialised low paid workers. It has allowed them to condense their workforce, with traditionally low paid roles being condensed with 1 worker taking on the job responsibilities of 5.

You will note I have avoided calling these jobs low skilled, though that is what they are often called. They are not low skilled. They are recruited as non specialised jobs, people get in to them without experience or education in that area, but they learn on the job. Many workers in these jobs are incredibly skilled, especially when they have been in them a few years. They are expected to take on incredibly large workloads and to constantly take on new responsibilities. It is common for companies to 'upskill' these workers by training them to know the processes and tiny details of what would have previously been considered multiple different roles. And it is never ending. You never reach the top in these jobs. There is always more to learn and another responsibility to take on and more efficiency to squeeze out of you.

[futchgunk]

mx. feelings

long post. personal account of transmisogyny.

sitting and reflecting on a really hard (happy) cry and thinking about the threads that culminated this experience.

one of the birthday presents i got for myself was a made-to-order vinyl record of my favorite song "rabbits" from this diy egg punk band called Nurse Joy (xxnursejoyxx). This band was extremely influential for my coming out because i first saw them live when i was invited to a show by my best friend. (who is also goth and trans) These shows were so much fun!! Pre-eponymous nursejoy sets were so high energy and really lively. The mosh pits were energetic and not violent and it was so much fun!! like this was when i really truly felt like i could be. i had been starving for trans visibility in my personal life and i found a community that is so much more welcoming than entry level white collar jobs or craft brewing bartending. i dykegress

My bestfriend (🐝) asked me to see the nursejoy set, i loved their ep "Flop Era" so much I drew fan art of one of their songs. (a really big deal, at the time i was so insecure about my skills as an artist yet so eager to create something, so having an outlet that supersedes my anxiety however temporarily is so nice to have!!) For about a whole year, I was hanging out in the DIY scene just because this band had some fun songs to dance to in the name of trans (nurse) joy!!

This band ended living right next to the place that I had moved last spring. Imagine my surprise when my neighbors were my favorite band!!! I was literally making my tea in the summer and walking over to drink it on their porch. They supported me through when I got framed at work. I was feeling like I had a group of friends.

Last summer, the singer for nursejoy finally graduated college and we had a celebration and they said that they were really gonna push their show house "PF" as a diy label, and everyone that was at the let out after their celebration show was gonna be there. I was so excited for this celebration, I baked a cake for the lead singer. We all got grouped into mini 3 person projects and asked to come up with a show-and-tell by 8/8 (::::)). I like to think of myself as an amateur poet, I was super eager to even said i made something remotely musical, so I did. my group was the only group to present something (we did so by crashing a gig) and I was really happy with the work I produced: a sex-positive risk aware boundary setting rap song. A mouthful, but thats on brand ;;) .

Fast forward to October and the attention to the Palestinian Genocide. Long-Story short: I upset some pro-israel friend of the band who knew was friends with the drummer of nursejoy (also jewish) and the drummer reached out to me to mediate the tension between us. (I had already DM'd and messaged this person and was waiting on a response for weeks, 3 weeks before these messages, 5 after). As a black transwoman, if someone calls cries of prejudice, it needs to be addressed and immediately resolved. So it was just incredibly frustrating, disheartening, and ostracizing to have someone call me anti-Semitic and then have nothing happen. for like weeks. and like this really cut me up bc you should be able to do difficult things like talk to people about the things they said if they made you uncomfortable. You should be able to know that they will hear you and listen.

It felt so terrible to just suddenly be demonized and branded with prejudice and not being able to do nothing about it all. When i was hanging out with 🐝 i cried about how uncomfortable and lonely and helpless i felt with this whole situation. (Being vulnerable and crying has been a struggle with me my whole life, I'm really thankful that estrogen has me able to cry, and I'm glad i can talk to people about stuff that isn't so flowery all the thyme. Some big feelings I cried about was the frustration of not knowing what's going on, to seeing the same the very people who gave shelter and harbor to me avoid my gaze like normies do. I go to the transpunk shows because im so sick of these eyes, the stares, it is the same look on everyones face and they are looking at me like an enemy, AND TO SEE THAT LOOK ON MY FRIENDS FACES. It's so hard to forget that feeling.

I was seriously contemplating not showing up to anymore shows and gigs. I had to remind myself that I show up to shows to have fun, and there are other friends that show up to these shows make these gigs so much more fun. I can think of at least three girls that like to push hard off the top of my head. ::::)

Funny Enough, i had just bought the order of the vinyl in september, before all this shit went down. and i cried to 🐝 about how this album now has a warped and twisted meaning. Now all this attachment i had is feeling like a needle ceiling because I don't like this band anymore. 🐝 and I talk about the universe is clay to sculpt reality from with just our wills and I put a wish that I wish that my best friend could play bass on my record instead of the resident bassist because that would mean so much more to me. We had joked that Bee should be in nursejoy bc having a transgirl bassist is just so perfectly splendid. I wished this thought into the aether, knowing it was just a wish.

Allegations against the current bassist of the sexual assault variety, had nursejoy without a bassist around the same time that they needed to record these vinyls. They asked 🐝 to fill in for their shows and I was so cut up I only saw 1 out of the 2 performances. I was still really cut up that i only showed up to the new years eve gig. (btw i saw the person who started it all but they were 2 drunk to have a real convo).

Fast forward to my time loop. My first time seeing nursejoy with the new lineup. I got to hear my favorite nursejoy song live and experience the annoyance of cops shutting down the gig!! the gig shut down early and we had made our way to my place. I had asked for 🐝's help with listening to my record earlier, bc I was so paralyzed with fear that I couldn't listen to it by myself.

We did listen to it. I have a voice clip of my best friend giving me a shout out and a goth blessing, and proceeding to give me another goth blessing by playing this song that I get to hear whenever I want to. I got so overwhelmed by happiness that I couldn't think and cried happy sobs.

This has been an extremely emotional roller coaster of an experience, and if i wasn't able to talk to other transwomen i would have shrunken inward and become incredibly bitter.

Thank you Bee.

Thank you Snow.

Thank you River.

Thank you Fawn.

Thank you Lily.

Thank you Morrigan.

[chaoxfix]

what do you imagine as the future for the series :0 (ie, where do you see sonic and the gang in ten or so years, in universe?)

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

fr ty for the ask! this took a while to write but im actually pretty happy with the end results for these guys.

sonic:

still adventuring, still being a hero. i think he actively distances himself from large groups of people because he would hate being overly famous, and would instead really enjoy the allure of always finding new people and places to explore, and if everyone already knows him then it kind of loses the appeal.

i think any trauma he's been through kinda hits hard at 19 and he starts to struggle a little bit with the whole child/teen hero thing. i think when he turns like 21 he takes a "sabbatical" which is actually him getting semi-willingly sucked into another dimension and staying for a bit longer than he strictly needs to. this lasts for a few years and when he comes back he feels more like his old self, zest for life, etc, because everything is new and exciting again. he'd continue ramping up threat levels and the desire for new and exciting adventures, and would be down for idk, space exploration, saving other dimensions, etc.

something will eventually be too much for him, and im sure he'll never go gray, but i like the idea of sonic just living a long, jam-packed, exciting life. he loves his friends and will always come back home eventually, but he needs enrichment, ok, and his standards for enrichment are extremely high.

10 years later, or, by 25, i think he'll more or less have his shit together but in the most sonic way possible. he'd be a traveling mentor, or a hero-for-hire (not that he really gets paid per say), and is a mythic figure across the galaxy.

he may or may not discover romance but i dont think anything would stick, so he's in like 5 open relationships across like 3 dimensions -- if he's not aroace, which is an equally valid outcome.

appearance-wise, he would have an updated design that somehow feels fight as a linear progression from classic to modern to future, but i havent quite figured it out yet. probably a darker blue, maybe lighter eyes or a different color than before (yellower or something).

tails:

tails runs a successful business as miles prower. he's the literal stereotype of 'they want 10 years of experience by the time ur 18' ... hes the reason entry level jobs are disappearing /jk

i think he grows up to be a bit of an oddball because hes very unlike other tech moguls (because he has a heart and morals etc.......). i think he's always going to have a spirit of adventure in him, being basically raised by sonic and all. i think he'll probably feel very bored if he doesnt go on adventures and fight bad guys on his own/with team sonic.

i feel like tails will also grow into having his own nemeses, people that really dont mess with sonic but DO mess with tails (and sonic encourages it low key because he thinks its important for everyone to have a rival<3)

i feel like tails doesnt really focus on romance as an older teen. maybe someday itll happen, and i dont actually hc him as aroace as an adult, just as someone who doesnt really feel the need to start dating yet since, well, he's only 18 in 10 years anyway, thats still super young. but i feel like it'd have to be orchestrated by his friends, as tails honestly has better things to do.

i think hes also the most likely of everyone, despite being the youngest, to adopt a random child. hes already had pets before in some canons (t-pup!) and was raised by a super young older brother. if he sees a kid in need he'd probably take them under his wing.

i love tsaiko's tails appearance-wise, bc its super visually interesting! id also be down for a tails that grows into like, a slightly different color than he is now, since in some universes we already saw that he was a darker orange as a kit and now he's bright yellow, maybe he'll change to a redder color or a lighter yellow, or brighter orange. idk! i think he'd definitely start wearing goggles though, and keeping like a toolbelt type thing around his waist and shoulder strap. he likes to be prepared ok.

amy:

i think amy has her shit together as much as she can in 10 years. i think she'd be the most likely to go to school/university/etc of anyone on this list. i think she'd have like. a bunch of different things shes doing at once, and have that be a bit, that shes always doing some new thing. 'wheres amy?' 'at dance rehearsal.' 'wheres amy?' 'teaching her cooking class.' 'wheres amy?' 'fighting in a WWE tournament' etc. she just does it all. but in addition to all of that, i think the reason that she spends so much of her time learning new things is so that she can be helpful on missions, and always know that extra bit of trivia that might save someones life. she studies medicine a lot for that reason too. she continues to be the heart and moral compass of the team, and can still talk would-be antiheroes and villains down from evil. i think she takes a lot of counseling classes to basically weaponize this skill tbh.

she'd have an apartment in multiple major cities and also moves around a lot. she has a lot of tea parties. i think she still sees vanilla and cream regularly, on top of still being on team sonic as often as possible. she sometimes sees big the cat as well, who i think might also eventually attend university with her (environmental biologist big...)

i like the idea of her having a pretty mysterious love-life, too, but that counters with the idea of her just really adoring her partner, who is truly, just some person in this universe.

appearance-wise i think she's wearing her quills longer again, and wears a red romper and uses boxing gloves in addition to her hammer.

knuckles:

still on angel island for the most part. but i think tails would figure out teleportation and give knuckles a teleporter pad so he can come and go easier. maybe even a way to shrink the ME and carry it with him in case of emergencies (though thatd hilariously sink angel island, so... has to be a pretty damn big emergency)

unfortunately, the ME is supposed to be the most important to him, but knuckles lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship (rouge)

no but fr theyre actually really cute together and have a shockingly healthy relationship even if its in no way normal. sometimes they fight on opposing sides, and knuckles always tries to have someone else swap with him so he doesnt have to fight his wife lol. for clarification, she's his wife, he's her boyfriend.

appearancewise i think he's more or less the same at 26. he sometimes wears a cowboy hat and brown leather jacket.

rouge:

i think rouge would continue to be a thief and treasure hunter most of all. shes now 28 and works the occasional odd job with GUN, but GUN likes her far more than she likes them. they keep trying to get her to become like super high-ranked in GUN, despite everyone simultaneously knowing this would be a terrible idea. she's not even tempted and continues letting them fail and cackling when she hears about botched operations that they execute without her.

she dates knuckles off and on. mostly on, though she'll complain to shadow any time they're fighting and pretends it's a bigger argument than it actually was.

she also still runs club rouge and is a very successful businesswoman.

i think she also relatively looks the same, maybe a design that doesn't have so many cutesy hearts on it. i feel like she'd wear more like her SA1 design, or an updated one that's more like a snazzy purple and black jumpsuit, with intersecting lines that look a bit like the fractal cuts of a gem.

eggman:

older but still young enough to fight. i think he has a health scare at some point and it scares sonic into paying him a hospital visit and telling him to take better care of himself or else, old man. eggman repays his flowers with an even bigger more exciting robot than usual to smash.

shadow:

still looking for that DAMN fourth chaos emerald. fr though hes probably working at GUN off and on. sometimes sucked into adventures. he does his own thing and tends to remain a cool loner more or less. by then he'll probably have figured out how to continue existing without being a douchebag (like current mandates have steered him into being). i think he more or less stops aging at 25, which is when the frontal lobe is more or less cooked, so he'll look this old forever after this.

he lives at club rouge with rouge. he spends a lot of his time complaining about how often knuckles comes over.

[acnelli]

First Time Falling

This is my entry for the @hpqueerfest 2021. Thanks to the mods who hosted this! And a big thank you to my great beta-readers @nagemeikenu and @static-abyss who put up with my phone-writery (writing time is hard to come by these days).

This story was inspired by Prelude and Fugue by shes_gone, and it’s set in a world where Harry didn’t go to Hogwarts, but had been prepared for his destiny.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley Rating: T TW: strong language, mentions of war time, mentions of drug and alcohol consume Prompt: Falling in love for the first time as an adult (late 20’s-early 30’s) Summary: Harry Potter –Head-Auror and Savior of the Wizarding World– spontaneously asked out a cute redhead and it turned to so much more than he could have ever hoped for. 

You can also read this on AO3 and FFN.

*** *** *** *** ***

Not bothering to knock, Ron Weasley marched into Hermione Granger’s office. The heavy mahogany door slammed against the wall, making Hermione jump up from her chair.

“Ron,” she shrieked as a bunch of paper fell off her desk. “What happened?”

Instead of providing his best friend with an explanation for his sudden intrusion, Ron paced back and forth. The panicked look in his eyes made Hermione assume the worst.

With one swift motion, Hermione stepped in front of the redhead, forcing him to stop his frantic pacing. “Ron, please talk to me,” she pleaded, taking his hand into hers. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt? Is your family okay?”

Hermione’s worried expression and the panic in her voice finally brought Ron to his senses. “No, don’t worry, Hermione,” he sighed as he closed her office door. “I’m sorry! But...do you have time for a quick cup of tea in the cafeteria?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. This report is giving me a headache and I need a break.”

Hermione grabbed her purse and gestured for Ron to lead the way.

“I swear, Ron, if you almost gave me a heart attack over something Quidditch related, I’ll hex you into next week and make your new Firebolt disappear forever,” Hermione added as they made their way down to the Ministry cafeteria.

Ron glanced over at the bushy-haired witch, suppressing a grin as he told her his distress was indeed about Quidditch. They grabbed their beverages and headed towards a free table. Gracing him with a dark look, Hermione gestured for Ron to finally tell her what’s going on.

“Harry Potter asked me out on a date!”

This statement caused Hermione’s drink to go down the wrong way, resulting in a violent coughing fit and her spitting out the tea.

“What?” she wheezed out between coughs, as Ron cleaned his face and shirt with his wand.

He waited patiently until Hermione recovered, both from the coughing fit and the shock. “See, even you don’t believe me,” Ron sighed, harshly rubbing his hands over his face, “I don’t blame you, though. I can’t believe it myself, after all.”

Finally being able to speak again, Hermione put her elbows on the small table and leaned forward, determined to not miss a single thing about this story. “Spill! How? When? Where? And don’t you dare to leave out even the smallest detail.”

Ron shook his head, still in disbelief about what had happened to him just twenty minutes ago. Not being able to wrap his head around it, he decided to tell Hermione today’s events from beginning to end.

“Today, Robertson sent me a memo to come to his office to discuss the ridiculous complaints about the Tornados/Harpies game last week,” Ron started and couldn’t help rolling his eyes about the things he had to put up with at work sometimes. “So, I went there, gave him my report about the match and a brief overview. Thank Merlin, he only asked his usual useless questions about referee bribery claims. I was ready to launch into a whole speech but he suddenly dismissed me and told me to write up a statement for the press.

“I was just on my way back to my office when I met Seamus. The fucking wanker had the nerve to claim the next Cannons match for himself. I know he did that just to spite me so, naturally, I gave him an ear full about it as we waited for the lift. We only noticed Harry Potter standing right behind us when we got inside the lift. I probably sounded like an idiot but Seamus and I kept the conversation up because I always get second-hand embarrassment when people stop talking if Potter walks by or joins the lift.”

Hermione patiently listened to his ramblings, restraining herself from telling him to get to the point already.

Ron sipped on his tea and shook his head. “You know what? I read too much into this. Just realised that I’m acting exactly as everyone else does. What’s the big deal? Just a bloke who wants to have a pint after work.”

Hermione stared at Ron, expecting him to go on with his story, but he just kept sipping his tea.

“Ron!”

“What?”

“How did he ask you out?” She accidentally raised her voice but Hermione was finally losing her patience with him.

“I told you, he most likely-”

“Just tell me the damn story, already!” Hermione snapped, blushing a little when she noticed the people on the other tables giving her funny looks.

“Alright,” Ron said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Calm down, barmy woman.”

“You're the one marching into my office like a lunatic. Spill it! Now!”

With a heavy sigh, Ron continued with his story, curling his hands around the tea mug to keep from fidgeting.

“Seamus had already gotten off at another level, so it was just me and Potter in there. I tried to avoid the awkward silence, so I asked him if he followed Quidditch and was going to listen to or even watch the Tornados match tonight. He said that he does follow Quidditch and that he intended to listen to the match at home but if I'd be up to it, we could listen to it at this new pub that just opened in Diagon. He totally caught me by surprise, but I must've agreed because he told me he'll meet me at the fireplaces at 5. Then he left the lift. Then I freaked out and came to your office.”

Ron marked the end of his story by taking another sip of his tea before he defiantly crossed his arms in front of him.

“Jesus, Harry Potter actually asked you out! Oh my God!” Hermione almost squealed, grasping one of Ron's arms.

“Nah! I don't think so anymore. I bet he just wanted to have a pint and was only being polite when he asked me to come along,” Ron said. “Who'd ask someone out like that anyway?”

“Someone looking for a partner?”

“Yeah, but think about it, Hermione. Why would he ask me out? The guy is not only fucking famous, he's also devilishly handsome. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“So?”

Ron looked at Hermione as though she'd just declared the desire to live as a chicken.

“So? So, why would someone ask me out while on a random stroll through the Ministry? Who'd think ‘Oh, that freakishly tall ginger with more freckles than skin looks kinda awkwardly cute. Let's try to get a leg over?'"

“I dated you,” Hermione interjected.

“You don't count.”

“Well, thank you!” Her sarcasm was all but ignored by Ron.

“I just know I'll embarrass myself tonight,” Ron insisted, looking quite unhappy. “Let's go back to work. I still have to write that useless report.”

“Devilishly handsome, hm?”

“Shut up!”

**** **** **** ****

Harry didn't know what had possessed him to ask the cute ginger out for a pint.

Maybe it had been the Prophet article speculating for the umpteenth time about when the Savior of the Wizarding World would finally settle down and make some black-haired, green-eyed babies. Rita Skeeter had many ideas about what worthy witch could conquer the heart of Harry Potter. All things considered, the article had probably not been the worst thing written about him so far.

Sometimes he wondered if he should've taken Sirius’ advice to feed the press and public meaningless details of his life. It wouldn't stop the constant speculations and made-up affairs, but it probably would reduce the paparazzi following him around, the crazy fans sending him love letters and maybe, they would find something more newsworthy than where Harry Potter bought his toilet paper.

But he hated the fact that people demanded this from him. He was 29 now, and while the great hype about him was over, he still seemed to be interesting enough to write about, even over a decade after his defeat of Voldemort.

He knew the majority of the Wizarding World was sincerely grateful for what he'd done. There were so many parents thanking him for the simple fact that they're still alive and able to see their children grow up.

It reminded him that it was all worth it. The sacrifices, the nearly friendless childhood, his secret life away from the public, the growing up with the knowledge that he might not live long enough to celebrate his 17th birthday. All of that had resulted in ending Voldemort once and for all.

When he'd destroyed the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes though, Harry’s hope of finally living a normal life got crushed soon after. In the post-war world, it had been next to impossible to lead a life like everyone else. Because of his childhood and his training by Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody himself, he learned not to trust easily. And since occasions to make friends or interact with strangers had been few and far between, he never really learned what to look for in a friend.

He was well aware that he was complaining about a comfortable life. His parents had left him a respectable amount of gold, and Sirius bought him a flat in London after he graduated from Auror Academy. Maybe he'd gotten this job because of his fame and reputation, but he knew he deserved the position as Head Auror. There was hardly anyone with the same amount of training and experience he brought to the table, and he was under the impression the people working for him did genuinely like him as a boss. Two of them he even considered friends after all these years.

Aside from the two friends at work he also had his family. He had Sirius, Remus, Andromeda, Tonks and his godson, Teddy. He wasn't alone by any means, but he'd never met someone he could possibly fall in love with. Hell, aside from one of Tonks’ old friends from school and her father's attempts to set him up with several of his countless nieces—and later nephews when Harry told his family girls didn't do it for him—he'd never even dated. Toby—a fellow student from elementary school and the only friend his age—dragged him to Muggle pubs and clubs, resulting in the occasional snog or even a shag with a stranger. Needless to say, his first time hadn't exactly been romance novel material and it sure wasn't something he liked to think about. Sometimes, Harry feared that he would never fall in love, that he wasn't capable of developing those feelings for another person.

Those unpleasant thoughts combined with the Rita Skeeter article may have been the result of his sudden impulse to just go for it and ask the redhead out. But it also could have been the brilliant blue eyes, the kind, shy smile and the lean shoulders. Harry was sure, though, that the main reason for it had been the fact that this man hadn't treated him like a Messiah. It had just been an easy conversation, even if it had been only two minutes.

Harry hoped it would remain that way when they watched the game later. In fact, he could just brush it off as a friendly meeting with a fellow Ministry worker if Cute Ginger wasn't interested in anything more.

But when he thought about the redhead’s lopsided grin, Harry felt a foreign flutter in his stomach and he couldn't help but hope for more, even if it was just another visit to the pub.

**** **** **** ****

In the 30 years of Ron Weasley’s existence, he'd never been on time for something not work-related. Today, though, he was almost ten minutes early as he waited by the fireplaces for Harry Potter.

Again, he felt rather pathetic. For a hot second, he considered waiting in a nearby bathroom to pass the time, pretending to get to their meeting place just in time. But then he reminded himself that he wasn’t a petty teenager anymore, and even if Potter found it pathetic, Ron didn’t expect a repeat of tonight, anyway.

He decided to just treat this like a meet-up with Dean and Seamus every other Thursday after work. Just two guys, enjoying a couple of pints together, talking about Quidditch. Nothing special. Nothing to freak out over.

The atrium was busy as ever but he spotted Potter right away when the Head-Auror stepped out of the lift and made his way towards the fireplaces. He still wore his magenta work robes and Ron couldn't help but notice how sexy they looked on him.

“Hi!” Potter greeted Ron, smiling somewhat shyly. “Ready for some beer and Quidditch?”

“Sure! But I forgot to introduce myself earlier, so I figured I'd do that now,” Ron said, giving the dark haired man a smile in return, as he offered his hand for a proper introduction. “I'm Ron. Ron Weasley.”

“I'm Harry.”

**** **** **** ****

“No way! How did he get out of there?”

Harry barked out a laugh at Ron's tale of a night out with Seamus and Dean. His outburst was loud enough for the other guests of the pub to look in their direction. Ron found it amusing how a simple change into Muggle clothes, different glasses, and a slightly lighter hair colour resulted in no one recognizing the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Since it was a Muggle police station, Seamus had to spend the night there. Statute of Secrecy, and all. We picked him up the next morning and filled him in on what he'd done the night before, including showing everyone his pale arse.” Ron grinned deviously at the memory. “I invented some things for good measure. Unfortunately, Dean is too good for this world and told him a few hours later that I was taking the mickey.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “That reminds me of Remus searching the whole of London for Sirius, only to find him several hours later in a hidden spot on the roof. He was gazing at the stars and totally stoned. Combined with Firewhiskey, he didn't remember a single thing from that night.”

“Sirius?” Ron looked quite interested at the mention of his Godfather’s name. “Sirius, as in Sirius Black?”

“Yes. He was my Dad’s best friend. And he's my Godfather.”

“I'm just asking because I'm related to the Blacks. My grandfather married Cedrella Black.”

“Yes, I recognize the name. Her face got blasted off the family tree,” Harry said, and at Ron's raised eyebrow quickly added, “Sirius’ mother blasted everyone off that tree who didn't uphold the Black family's motto ‘Toujours pur’. So, Cedrella must have gone against the high and mighty Black Pureblood tradition.”

“Well,” Ron said, taking a swig of his beer, “she married a Weasley. I'm sure that alone was reason enough to disown her. The Weasleys have been notorious blood traitors since forever.”

“Sounds like your grandmother had good taste in men if you ask me.”

Harry winked at Ron, and the redhead felt the burning blush creeping up his neck.

Ron was once again amazed at how little time it had taken him to lose his nervousness. But Harry Potter made it very easy for him. Harry was confident, yet humble and polite. His humor didn't have Ron's sarcastic edge, but the redhead found Harry delightfully witty with a good amount of sass.

Ron didn't know what he expected but it was undeniable how easy it was to talk to Harry. He could only hope the raven-haired man enjoyed this just as much as he did. Harry laughed at his jokes and seemed genuinely interested in Ron's more-than-mundane life.

As much as Ron tried to see this as a meeting with a good friend, he couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest every time Harry smiled at him or his leg accidentally bumped against Ron's. And if the alcohol hadn't gone to his head already, making him imagine things, Harry's eyes kept flitting down to Ron's lips.

When the woman behind the bar announced the final round, they decided to call it a night since it was one of Harry's work Saturdays tomorrow.

As they ventured out of the crowded pub and into the cool night air, Ron was disappointed about the evening coming to an end. Time had flown and he was sure they could've talked for several more hours.

“Would you mind if I walk you home?” Harry asked just as Ron wanted to wish him a good night.

Ron nodded, not being able to suppress his smile as Harry obviously remembered him mentioning that he only lived a few blocks away.

They kept their pace slow and walked a little closer to each other than necessary, their hands bumping against one another. Every touch sent a jolt through Ron's body and he wanted nothing more than to take Harry's hand.

Eventually, they reached their destination. During the entire walk home Ron had gathered all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Harry out, this time for an official date.

“I- um,” Ron started, rubbing one hand against the back of his neck to ease his nerves. “I really enjoyed this evening and I was wondering...Maybe I got this all wrong, but you seem interested, and well, I'm interested too. And if you're not, that's totally fine. But...caniseeyouagain?”

And before Ron's face had the time to go completely crimson, he got his answer as Harry took his hand to pull him close, leaned up and kissed him.

Harry pulled back from Ron's lips, his stunning, green eyes slightly darker than usual and holding a hopeful glint.

Ron didn't give himself the chance to overthink as he put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and kissed him again. A deep groan escaped him when Harry licked at Ron's bottom lip and Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ron was positive that he'd never experienced something more incredible than kissing Harry Potter. The only things he was capable of paying attention to were Harry and the wild thumping of his heart. And while it was exhilarating and new and positively made him weak in the knees, it also felt a lot like coming home.

Having lost all sense of time, Ron couldn't tell if they'd kissed for a minute or several hours when they broke apart. Harry's hands still gripped his shirt and Ron let his own hands glide from Harry's dark hair down over strong, well-defined shoulders to finally rest at his hips.

Both of them tried to catch their breath and Harry, who finally let go of Ron's shirt to put his arms around him, smiled up at Ron almost shyly.

“Yes, you can see me again,” Harry said, grinning.”What are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Well,” Ron pretended to think about it for a second, “I thought I'd do this.”

And with that, he leaned in to kiss Harry again.

“I think that's a brilliant idea.”

**** **** **** ****

Just as he turned off the radio and grabbed his coat from the rag beside the door, a loud knock sounded through Harry's now quiet flat.

“Ten minutes early. Eager, aren't we?” Harry said as he opened the door for a tall ginger with a picnic basket in one hand and a broom in the other.

“Says the one waiting right beside the door like a good dog.”

Ron shoved his way inside, putting down the basket and broom before pulling Harry into his arms.

“Happy Birthday,” Ron murmured against the other man's lips. “And I thought I was supposed to give you a present, not the other way around?”

Harry pulled back a little, apparently confused. Ron grinned at him and squeezed Harry's arse. “Thanks for wearing my favourite pants today.”

Chuckling, Harry pointed at the broom Ron had brought with him. “No way I'll fly on a broom in these. Good thing I also packed my joggers.”

Ron hadn't told him where they were going for Harry's Birthday. He'd just instructed Harry to be ready at 9 in the morning, so they'd be back in time for dinner at Grimmauld Place with Harry's family.

Only two months had passed since their first kiss, but Harry already felt as though he'd known Ron for much longer. Every kiss, every touch, all the teasing and banter, and late night talks felt so completely natural, yet blissfully exciting.

“Come on, grab your broom. We're on a tight schedule.”

Ron winked at him and before Harry knew it, they were standing in the middle of a giant Quidditch pitch.

There wasn't a single soul besides them, but Harry immediately recognized the giant Hogwarts House banners from his family's keepsakes of their school years. Aside from that fateful day when he'd fought Voldemort on those grounds, he'd never visited the school. Not before, not after.

Harry tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. The surprise must be the result of one of their late night talks, when Harry confessed that his deepest desire while growing up had been to go to Hogwarts.

“Are we allowed to be here or do I need to arrest you for breaking into school grounds?”

Arms wrapped around him from behind and Harry could feel Ron smiling against the back of his head. “I wouldn't be opposed to playing the big bad Auror and the naughty Suspect later, but this is actually 100% legal. Having contacts with important Quidditch officials has its perks sometimes. And my annual chess game against McGonagall helped too, I suppose.”

“Okay then,” Harry said, lifting one of Ron's hands to his mouth to brush his lips against his knuckles. “Fill me in on that plan of yours.”

Ron let go of him and reached for their brooms, tossing one of them at Harry. “I thought we'd fly over the grounds first, so I can show you everything from above. The castle looks fucking amazing from up there and the Great Lake is a sight to die for when the water reflects the sun.”

Ron mounted his broom and flew in slow circles around Harry as he continued to talk. “I hope you don't mind that I invited your family for dinner. But I thought we could all show you the castle, introduce you to our favourite spots and secret places. Andromeda can show us the Slytherin common room. I've never been there myself. I'll show you the kitchen first. That's where I'll cook dinner later while the others show you around.”

Jumping down from his broom, Ron looked at Harry with a mixture of excitement and reluctance as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was a telltale sign of the redhead being nervous, Harry had learned in the last weeks.

“So, I thought this to be fitting for a 30th Birthday. I wasn't sure what to get you that you don't already have, and I reckoned this might be fun.”

Harry didn't know what to say and his silence only made Ron doubt his plan more. It always baffled Harry how Ron didn't realize how wonderful he was. He wished Ron could see himself through Harry's eyes.

Right at that moment, as Harry looked into Ron's blue eyes, it hit him. In fact, he knew he'd been harbouring these feelings inside him for weeks now, but only now he could see it with shining clarity.

He was falling in love.

The feeling was new, something he'd never experienced, but still he recognized it for what it was.

 Love.

***

[goth-albino-angel]

Yugiri's smile is everything. She has so many of them and they all mean different things. When she's relaxed, when she's excited, when she's confused, when she has no clue what's going on but everyone else is happy so she's happy, when she's relieved, when she's proud... She has so many different smiles and if Tumblr didn't have the 10 image rules, I would absolutely gush about every single one of them in detail. Unfortunately, if I do that, all of those posts will probably be eaten out of the tag, so instead, here are my top 10 favorite Yugiri smiles so far, images included. (Pre-Revenge episode 9)

10. Season One, Episode 2: The First Smile/ 9. Season One, Episode 10: The Sentimental Smile

Episode 2 is the first time we ever see Yugiri smile. Before this, she seemed relatively nonplussed or generally disinterested in pretty much everything going on. Even though she was in a different time period with complete strangers and a madman demanding her to be something she has no knowledge of, she was fairly calm. Then the first time we see her smile, it's when she sees something completely familiar. Her own face. Not only that, but she directs that smile toward the character that is going to become basically her little sister. The first one means so much and it's so important.

Within the same vein, her smile to Kotaro in episode 10 is one during an emotionally heavy moment. It's the first time he's hit an actual snag in his plans. Sakura's singular focus on the Arpino show rather than on the bigger picture of the group as a whole would have been a massive roadblock had she not realized her mistake.

Yugiri is the only one who properly realizes the reason they were sent into the mountains in the first place. Instead of simply sitting on the information, she's proactive about it and actually goes to discuss the problem with Kotaro. She wants to understand his reasoning so that she might be able to help him. And when she turns toward him, she also gives him the observations she's witnessed throughout her new life. This smile may be low on my list of favorites, but it's still unbelievably important.

...Also, when they released the preview image of this smile, my brain short-circuited for ten minutes, so it had to make it onto the list regardless.

8. Season Two, Episode One: The Professional Smile

This smile isn't much out of the ordinary for what we've come to expect of Yugiri, but it's on here because this was our first look at Yugiri after basically two years of very little. None of us knew how the group would come back, how the writing team had incorporated the unexpected pandemic, how things would play out, or what would be happening. The Promo showed Tae's hand flying off to knock off Sakura's head, but as 2018 displayed, the promos can't always be trusted. This showed that, even in this new world where she's only been awake for a year, she's putting her skills to use and working just as hard as the others. Thanks to the conversation from Episode 10 of the first season, we know she was trained as a geisha which would make service work much easier than it would be for the other girls.

I don't have too much to say on this one, to be honest. I do like that she's in softer lighting, as opposed to the others who were all surrounded by harsh lighting on their season two introductions. The softer lighting lends itself well to the lack of pigment and coloration in the girls' makeup, allowing Yugiri to look like she has some color, even if she still looks somewhat pale and tired. It doesn't give her quite the same sickly look the others have at their jobs. The red dress? 100/10. Perfect decision.

7. Season One, Episode Five: The Proud Smile

SHE. DOES. GYMNASTICS. She has every right to this smile! I did the math for this specific part of the episode and Yugiri got third place. The judges liked her rope aerobics so much, they shot her all the way to third place even though her distance was zero meters. It wouldn't have gotten her interviewed, but it would have at least put Franchouchou at the forefront. I still applaud Tae snagging first place, but Yugiri deserves some praise. She really did go face first into the mud on a bike and said, "Never again." She's so proud of herself. I'll be gushing about the actual gymnastics part in a different post a little later, too, but she definitely deserves to be proud of herself. I'm really gay...

6. Season One, Episode Four: The Cute Smile

Originally, this was just going to be me doing some keysmash version of a squeal or something, but there's something I'd like to draw attention to. I'm pretty sure that, by this point, Franchouchou only knows two songs. Yomigaere, which was supposed to be performed in episode 2, and Mezame Returner, which is what's being performed here. Of these two, Yugiri has more experience with this one, but from what the audience had been shown, it wasn't good experience.

Memorizing the lyrics would have been the easy part for her. It's that a good portion of the dance practice was also spent helping Lily get the steps down and potentially calming her frustrations. Then the performance itself would have been a complete disaster if Junko and Ai hadn't gotten over themselves at the last minute to finally help.

This is the first successful performance of Mezame Returner we're witnessing and it's clear the group's had more practice since then. You can see how excited and happy Yugiri is here because this one is actually going well. They had a bit more time to prepare, the two lead roles were actually involved this time, and the audience also was clearly enjoying the performance. She's so happy and it's just so heart-warming to see. Yes, even with the CGI. Don't @ me, she looks adorable.

5. Season One, Episode Seven: The Sassy Smile

This one also was just going to be a squealing keysmash thing, but again, I have something to point out. Look how much more confident she is now that Junko and Ai have, once again, gotten over themselves. Yugiri sees the effect that Junko stepping in had on the others and just like the rest of the group, her movements are more relaxed and free.

It's more obvious, actually, if you look at the way the other girls are moving directly after Junko helps Ai up in comparison to how Yugiri is moving. She did a spin while waiting for Sakura and Lily to finish their segment, and she could be cheeky during her own. She sensed that the tension had mostly dissolved and because of that, she allowed herself to relax and could properly throw herself into the performance. When she throws out this smile and wink, it's not actually directed at the audience. It's Yugiri telling the others that they've got this without breaking the performance.

4. Season Two, Episode Four: The Gentle Smiles

I put both of these here because Yugiri's just... so... caring? So much of what she does is passive that you don't realize just how much work she puts into relieving the stress from the other girls until long after the problem has been resolved.

In the first, she's speaking to Sakura. No doubt, Yugiri probably noticed how worried Sakura was about Junko. Even though Sakura was trying not to let the others catch on just how anxious she really was, Yugiri still knew that something was bothering Sakura as well as Junko. Yugiri knew that the key to easing Junko's mind lay in placating Sakura first. She's seen what happens to them all when they fall apart and she wants to avoid that at all costs. So, Yugiri lifts Sakura's spirits and gives her back the fire and determination to make a great performance.

In the second, Yugiri is watching Junko eat. Unlike the others, it's clear Yugiri knows that Junko is in much higher spirits than when last they saw her. Junko would likely have still been a stuttering, quivering mess otherwise, but she wasn't stuttering and her actions were purposeful and self-assured. Yugiri is very observant. She would have caught on that something had happened to make Junko feel better. What makes this smile even better is that she's not the least bit disappointed. The reason she made dinner was to help Junko, but she doesn't view the meal as a waste of time. She's so focused on other people, that she's happy Junko is feeling better at all and even offers her different platters to help keep her mood up.

These are high on the list for two reasons. One, they're a show of just how much Yugiri does for her girls. Two, YUGIRI COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS HEADCANON CONFIRMED BITCHEEEESSS!!! I GOT ONE RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!

3. Season Two, Episode Six: The Affectionate Smile

I will be completely honest, I have no idea why this one is as high as it is. I admit, I did spend three hours replaying this single thirty second scene because it's really sweet and Yugiri and Tae don't interact very often, so seeing Yugiri not only be worried for Tae, but also be immediately reassured that Tae would be fine was just something my heart didn't know it needed until it had it. The sheer level of affection Yugiri shows toward Tae is too adorable. Especially since Yugiri usually only has moments like those with Sakura and, to a lesser extent, Lily. This smile's really cute, it's in the middle of a wholesome scene, and it made me love both Yugiri and Tae that much more.

2. Season One, Episode Three: The Excited Smile

Once again, an entry that was going to be a simple squealing keysmash until I realized there was something to point out here as well. This is the first smile we ever see from Yugiri that's genuinely enthusiastic. She has plenty of them, especially during her performances, but this is our first time seeing her fully incorporate herself into the group as an actual member and actually look excited to do something with the others. This was an omen of adorable things to come and damn did it deliver.

Honorable Mentions.

I'm only going to touch on each of these briefly because to be honest, there are a LOT of smiles I could've picked.

The first one is from episode 6 when the group is talking about their very first meet-and-greet. Lily asks Yugiri if she's keeping up okay, and Yugiri remarks that she's taking things as they come. This was a small look into the kind of character she is. As I mentioned before, she's very passive in the way she operates, but that's to the benefit of those she cares for. This is her admitting that she doesn't want to be a problem and it's just sweet that even though Lily is worried about her, Yugiri's still highkey thinking about everyone else.

To the right is a shot of Yugiri during Electric Returner. This one is just the squealing keysmash because she looks so genuinely ecstatic, it's contagious. She's NO DAMN CLUE what happened or why they sound so different, but she is absolutely living her best second life.

The next shot comes from the beginning of Yomigaere and is somewhat of a repeat of the above. She's excited to perform for such a big crowd, she's glad Sakura finally agreed to actually participate, and she's living her best second life. Whoever animates Yugiri's CG model? I love you. I want to send you a gift basket. She's always so happy during performances.

Then comes her smile after the group finds out Sakura's memories are back. She's just glad Sakura, her Sakura, has come back to them, that she accepts her crap luck and is still willing to stay. For Yugiri, this goes under the list of Best Possible Outcomes. Her family is whole again and she's so relieved.

Last in the top row is the first full frontal shot we get of Yugiri in the Saga Jihen music video. She's so unbelievably adorable here. I wish I could've gotten her first expression, but the curtain was still rising and without photoshop, I'm not editing an image to the degree needed to get her whole face lightened. Point is, she's cute and everyone deserves to see her adorable face on the first song she got to be center for.

First on the bottom row is Yugiri looking apologetic from episode 8 of Revenge. She's so cute. It was an honest mistake and she had no way of knowing the paper belonged to Kiichi. No doubt, that was probably why she offered to help him rewrite them later.

Next is how cute she looks in big sister mode. She's wiping the mud from Kiichi's cheeks and is taking such care with him. Throughout the entire episode, she treats him like a little kid and it's likely because her role was big sister for so long that she doesn't know how not to treat him that way. It really does shed light on just how kind she is to everyone, though, that she doesn't even think about her dirty kimono and focuses on cleaning him up a little first.

Then we have her smiling at Kiichi as she remarks on how beautiful his dream of reviving Saga is. She even says she hopes it comes true. His dream means something to her. She can't even fully see it, he can't even fully see it, but they don't need to. What Itou didn't understand this whole time is something Yugiri understood immediately just from listening to Kiichi talk. They don't need to see it in their minds, all they need is to feel it in their hearts, and that's something Yugiri knows.

And lastly on the honorable mentions, because this post is already super long, Yugiri smiling while she's cooking for her guests. It was a tossup between this or the pinwheel because it's just really nice that Yugiri can simply enjoy mundane things. I chose this one because it's a direct contrast to how she was at the beginning. Before, she ate with a disinterested expression, but now, she's cooking for guests rather than just for herself. The lift in her mood is obvious, and it's something so small but so heartwarming, I couldn't resist.

I would've put the pinwheel moment anyway, but unfortunately, as a com major, formatting and design are everything and an extra picture on the top or bottom without a balancer would've thrown the whole thing off. Maybe next time.

NOW FOR NUMBER ONE

1. Season Two, Episode Eight: The Softest Smile

This should have been expected. There's something genuinely touching about the fact that Yugiri really does give her everything, even to complete strangers. These girls barely know her, everyone in town barely knows her, but because her dance students suggested Yugiri go out and actually experience, Yugiri gives it actual thought. She doesn't dismiss them, she doesn't deride them, she doesn't make them feel foolish or anything like that. She treats their suggestion the same way she would if it had come from a close friend. And she does actually take them up on it.

Later, we see her come into contact with Kiichi to demonstrate that even full-on strangers aren't exempt from her kind heart, but this means more. All we know is that these girls take Yugiri's dance class, and from the way they speak when we first meet them, it's clear Yugiri has a professional wall between herself and those she instructs. But she still treats them as she would the girls back in Shimabara. It's proof that, even in the past, Yugiri really was just as kind-hearted as in the present. It's a show don't tell kind of thing that just speaks so deeply to the writer in me. I love this smile. It's everything. Her smiles are everything. She's everything.

[whumpcollector]

Project CHIMERA Pt.1: A New Age

Hey everyone. I’ve had this little project stewing for a long while. I’m experimenting with the writing style and such so please give me any feedback you have! (Also formatting this thing has been a nightmare so if anything comes off as difficult to read please lmk and ill fix it)

TW: Dehumanization. Themes of imperialism. Descriptions of blood and injury.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 1

Date: Celendor 3, 991

It is a glorious day. Truly it is. Today marks the beginning of project CHIMERA. I have been assigned to lead this project by Emperor Vystlat himself, an honor I intend to prove myself worthy of. The equipment is still being set up and the facility brought to full function, but within the week we will be able to begin the production of the first batch of clones. All going well we will have our first subjects by the end of Celendor.This will be a new age for the empire.

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 4

Date: Celendor 12, 991

The first batch of clones are growing better than anticipated. Within two days they have already passed the embryonic stages and have reached infancy. If this rate continues they will be juveniles within three days at most, and we will be able to begin the initial stages of CHIMERA ahead of schedule. This is better than I ever could have hoped for. Soon the need for the empire’s children to die in order to spread our prosperity will be gone. Soon, the glory of the empire will go uncontested.

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

                                   ---Security Clearance Level: 5---

Official Report of Progress: Project CHIMERA

Date: Celendor 12, 991

My glorious Emperor Vystalt,I am more than pleased to report that project CHIMERA’s progress has been greater than I ever anticipated. The first batch of clones have reached the juvenile stage and are being awoken as I write this report. After a day of acclimation we will be able to begin their training. Initial physiological tests have revealed that cell growth rates and immune system responses are greatly enhanced compared to the average human’s. With further research we may be able to adapt these properties to other medical fields. While I do not wish to get ahead of myself, the prospective avenues of research are truly promising.

I shall personally inform you of any and all major developments.

May our glory shine upon the world,

-Dr.Archimedes Yarru

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Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 6

Date: Celendor 13, 991

It appears that our genetic manipulation has worked a bit...too well. These clones are not the blank slates that we had anticipated, but have managed to develop personalities during their time in incubation. The good news is that the information we imprinted them with during the incubation phase has stuck as well. We won’t need to teach them the basics. In theory their training can continue as normal, but some issues have reared their ugly heads. We are already receiving resistance to the idea of training from some of the subjects, and an alarming amount of them have developed dispositions that aren’t exactly compatible with being a soldier. Still, this is a minor setback at most and I have been assured by the training staff that things will progress as intended. I hope they know what they’re doing, but the emperor chose them personally so they must be good at their job.

Despite this hiccup I can’t help but be hopeful for the future. Every other aspect of CHIMERA has gone off without a hitch. I’m already seeing promising results from my initial tests of the clone’s blood and muscle cells. I will have to study them closer to get better results, but that will come in time.

Damn it's been 22 hours since I last slept. I should probably do that now.

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

Celendor-15-991

To: allstaff

Subject: Plans going forward and clarification of CHIMERA details

It has come to my attention that there has been some confusion throughout the staff, both due to the unforeseen personalities of the clones and with general project protocol. Allow me to rectify these issues here.

[1] The classification of all subjects are as follows. Please remember this to avoid any failures of communication in the future.

Stage gamma: Subjects in the initial stages of testing. They will physically resemble adolescents, generally ages 12-15.

Stage beta: Subjects that are through initial training stages and have been curated into specified roles to receive specialized training. They will also reach physical maturity, resembling 20-22 year olds before their biological development and aging slows.

Stage alpha: Subjects that have finished training and are capable of being sent into the field.

Note: The ages attached to each stage are to provide a reference point to help identify subjects at a glance. Subject’s early rapid aging and the subsequent cessation of said aging makes any attempts at estimating age past a certain point futile. Please refrain from doing so

Addendum: This also means that there will be no attempts at assigning or recognizing birthdays. Yes Arthur, we mean you. Sate your addiction to cake on your own time

[2] Despite the unintended development of personality within subjects all current training protocols and methods will be utilized. The head of the training staff has asked that I pass along this message 

    *[While I understand that these new developments may be difficult to handle for some of you, it is imperative to remember that these clones are not people. They are more akin to automatons or even puppets. There will likely be many attempts to resist our training, do not waver. These clones are meant to be the bulwark of the empire. They need to be forged and tempered into weapons of war. If that requires us to break them first we must accept that. Use a heavy hand, accept not disobedience, and do whatever it takes to ensure the compliance of the clones.

                                                                                            Taskmaster Grestin]

[3] Remember that project CHIMERA is still in experimental phases. The genetic makeup, physiology, and even mental development and reception to training will vary from batch to batch and even subject to subject. Adapting to such differences will be crucial to ensuring progress of the project. If you happen to notice any abnormal physiological phenomena or behavioral anomalies please report to me. While these subjects are meant to be made into soldiers for the empire they also provide a plethora of opportunities for other fields of research. Within that vein, please refrain from killing the subjects. I understand that taskmaster Grestin’s previous statement emphasizes the importance of discipline but please, do show some restraint when possible. Creating these subjects is currently an expensive and, quite frankly, unreliable process despite our initial success. There is a reason this first batch only consists of 10 subjects. Please do not lower that number.  

                                                                                        -Dr. Archimedes Yarru

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 9

Date: Celendor 19, 991

Well Grestin has definitely earned the title taskmaster. I get that any training intended to produce super soldiers is going to be intense but, damn. I’m almost worried that she’ll kill the subjects long before they get into stage beta. Hopefully I’m just being overly anxious. I trust that Grestin won’t push them too harshly too quickly.

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

Medical Report: Subject Gamma-A-8

Date of Admission: Celendor-20-991

Subject Gamma-A-8 was submitted to the facility infirmary at 8:26 AM on the 20th of month Celendor, year 991 by staff member Jules Armidin. Subject Gamma-A-8 was admitted due to severe injury and physical exhaustion. A complete list of afflictions has been attached to the report.

After initial treatments Subject Gamma-A-8 has been stabilized and is currently recovering. It is estimated the subject will be fully recovered within 10-14 days with no long term injuries or afflictions.

Attached - Trauma_Report_GAMMMAA8   

[ Subject Gamma-A-8

Muscle tearing located in the left and right biceps, triceps, and pectorals

Hairline fractures located in the left ulna, left and right radius, and sternum

Compound fracture located at the tibia

Eye spasms indicative of long term sleep deprivation Mild concussion

General bruising located across the arms, legs, and abdomen

Lacerations across the back                                                       ]

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

Dr. Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 10

Date: Celendor 20, 991

At least the subject didn’t die. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr Yarru’s Personal Log.

Entry 11

Date: Celendor 21, 991

Well if anything at least I have been able to study how the subject’s body responds to physiological trauma. The results are nothing short of remarkable. Almost all of the major injuries have been healed to the point of not impairing the body's functions, including bone fractures. I was as shocked as the doctors when a compound fracture seemingly mended itself overnight. It hasn’t fully healed, but the subject is capable of moving the leg to a degree, which is still nothing short of amazing. Accelerated Healing was something that was coded into their base genetics but this is more than what we could have ever expected.

I wonder if this trait is shared by all subjects or if Gamma-A-8 is a special case. Perhaps Grestin’s methods will prove fruitful in more ways than one.

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

Dr Yarru’s Personal Log

Entry 14

Date: Celendor 28, 991

It has been less than one month since the beginning of project CHIMERA and the results are already beyond my wildest dreams. Despite my initial reservations almost every subject has taken to the training regimen, no doubt due to Grestin’s expertise.

Note to self: Don’t piss her off

Subject Gamma-A-8 has had a difficult time keeping up with the other subjects. Despite the subject’s remarkable natural healing it seems unable to match the raw strength and speed the other subjects possess. I am hopeful that it will be able to catch up, or at least be able to function adequately in whatever role it is assigned. If not, well, 90% success rate is still more than acceptable given the circumstances.

I feel as if I have gathered as much data as I can working on the peripheries. Blood samples and medical reports are all well and good but they can only get me so far. I haven’t had a chance to interact with any of the subjects thus far. I think it's about time that I change that.

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

Tags: @haro-whumps @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

[saybees]

Okay and like I'm real fucking mad about the newspaper job. Someone with 35+ years of design experience "fell into [their] lap".

So someone that's in their 50s, that should be thinking about retirement, has just taken away an entry level fucking job from a young person that needs it in a small town with few opportunities.

I'm SO mad. What's gonna happen in 5 years when that guy retires? Gotta hire someone new again. May as well hire a young person that might be there for the next 20 years instead, no? Sure, NOW you don't have to train them, but you'll have to train someone in a few years anyway, may as well do it now. There may be no young people around in 5 years that wanna work there. It's a small and dying town.

I'm just really angry over this. Yet another chance for me to get into something other than retail and it's just ripped out from under me. I had a good shot at that job until some ancient asshole came around and took an entry level fucking job.

[cancerbiophd]

Hey! I’m sure this is a question you get asked a lot but how did you decide that a PhD was for you? I’m about to enter the last year of my undergrad and have really enjoyed the lab work I’ve done previously but it feels like a rather large commitment when I’m not 100% sure I’m going to end up in research at the end of it. I was just wondering how you knew it was what you wanted to do!

Hello!

I actually have never been asked that question before, which was surprising for me too. I get a lot of “how did you know lab research was right for you”, but never specifically about how I knew a PhD was right for me (or maybe I did and I just didn’t answer it well), so I’m really glad you asked!

As you said, it really does come down to answering yes to both these statements: 

The career path I want is best accomplished with a PhD

I am willing to commit to the challenging journey of 5-6 years of grad school (+1-3 years of being a post-doc, if applicable to your field)

So here are the reasons how I knew getting a PhD was the best past for me:

I loved research. And I loved research beyond just doing benchwork--I loved the brainstorming, the experimental design, the analyzing of results, the troubleshooting of the unexpected, the dissecting of both broad and fine details as you solve a puzzle, the moment when you realize you just discovered something no one else has ever seen before, and communicating those exciting results. I was infatuated. When I was working as a lab tech in a cancer research lab after undergrad there were nights where I couldn’t sleep because my brain just would not stop brainstorming new ideas and questions about my research. I told that to a current grad student in the lab at the time and he was like “You know what that means? You have the mind of a grad student.”

And I wanted to broaden my skillsets. I could do a few techniques really well, but I really wanted to learn more, and I also wanted to learn more about those techniques--why do this, and not an alternative? What would happen if we tried this? I wanted to explore more. 

Going off of that, I wanted to keep learning. And not just looking up wikipedia articles by myself; I wanted formal training (because I had no idea what I needed to learn). And I’ve always been good at learning in a classroom setting so I knew I would excel at that part in grad school. 

It would lead me to the career path I wanted, which was to work at a biotech company as a leader of a research team and then become a consultant. True, a PhD is not required for that in many cases, but a PhD would better prepare me for those roles

I enjoyed writing and orally communicating about my research. PhD’s do metric ton of writing (grants, papers, reports, etc) and oral presentations (conferences, meetings, collaborations, etc). And I really enjoyed (and was good at) all that. 

I wanted to be in a position where I could lead and mentor. As someone with the highest degree in the room, institutions look to the PhDs for direction. So PhDs will become leaders--whether it’s a lab of their own in academia, or a team in an industry setting, etc. Even grad students have undergrads, or have to TA. And I was ready for, and wanted, all that. 

I was good at wearing a lot of hats. PhDs don’t just do a singular task; during grad school we learn to be versatile (you have to be in an academic lab setting), and that versatility carries through later as we become excellent multitaskers and are good at adapting to new challenges. And as someone who has always successfully juggled school and work and multiple extracurriculars, and had experience being a rockin lab manager (in the lab I worked in after undergrad), I knew I was up to it. 

I loved working by myself but I also loved working as a team--and that’s a necessity for research in general, even for non-PhDs, but PhDs are more likely to have to excel at both. 

I was mentally, physically, emotionally, and financially ready for the challenges and commitment of 5-6 years of grad school (plus 1-3 years of being a post-doctoral fellow, if applicable). Grad school is tough as balls, and you have to be just as tough, or at least have the resources to help you. I took a gap year of 2.5 years after undergrad to a) figure out what the heck I wanted to do/get research experience and b) mature to the point where I could be ready for something like grad school. I feel that working as a full-time lab tech really allowed me to immerse myself into the closest setting of a grad student in my field as possible. Being there 40 hrs/week really is different than when you’re an undergrad researcher popping in for 2 hours/day. I also took a grad-level class to see if I could mentally balance class and research. I know that’s obviously not an option available to everyone (nor is it necessary), but that’s just how I knew that every part of me could handle the rigors of grad school. 

Going off of that, I had a lot of grit and discipline. Sometimes that’s all you have left to get you through the day in grad school when everything else feels depleted. Grad students do a lot of things they’re not motivated to do, but we gotta get it done anyway, and sometimes grit is all we have to make our limbs move. 

PhD holders and PhD students at the time were telling me I’d be great at pursuing one. They know better than anyone what it takes, and they knew I was ready. 

Also dang, I’d be lying if I said money didn’t play a role in it. I graduated college in 2011 during the grand ol recession, and the job market stunk. I saw that options for biology majors were slim to none (I was extremely lucky to have found my lab tech job), so I knew I had to either wait it out until the job market bounced back, or make myself a more attractive candidate for the workforce, or both! (Let’s not talk about the economy during Covid lol). Also, the thought of making over 100k with a PhD was attractive. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, but money does buy happiness, because money buys food and a roof over your head and warm clothes and healthcare and hobbies so uh, yeah, I did get the highest degree possible partially for the money. 

So why not a Masters? That’s a good question!! And the truth is: I didn’t know I could accomplish most of what I wanted with a Masters. And that was my fault for not doing my own research, but I think I was just.. surrounded by PhDs (both in my academic lab setting and in my family) and the thought of doing a Masters never really occurred to me. Also, idk, I knew in my heart and in my bones I wanted a PhD, so I’m not sure if I would be happy with a Masters. 

Lastly, because this list is personal to me, getting a PhD would get me off my mom’s shit-list and end her endless emotional abuse towards me being worthless, etc. Long story, but yeah, it did factor into it as kind of a bonus point. 

So thar’s my spiel.  

One last thing I want to add: though continuing research is the most common career path for PhD holders, it’s not the only one. Here’s what else is available for PhDs (from the book Career Opportunities in Biotechnology and Drug Development by Toby Freedman)

If the image is hard to see, there are 4-ish main branches, and then some sub-branches (and even more specialized sub-branches that aren’t labeled):

R&D: Discovery research, preclinical research, bio/pharmaceutical product development, project management, clinical development, regularly affairs, medical affairs

Services: Recruiting, law, venture capital & banking, management consulting

Operations: Bio IT, quality, operations

Commercial Operations: Business development, corporate communications, product support, sales, marketing

And that’s just in the industry sector--academia, government, and non-academia/non-govt research institutions are also obviously available as career choices, though those would focus more on R&D (and also teaching). 

You obviously don’t need to know the specifics of your career path before committing to grad school, but I think you should have a general idea that what you want to do would best be accomplished with a PhD. 

If you’re still on the fence, I would advise:

Talking to more grad students or degree holders--both PhD and Masters (our Gradblr Discord is great for that!)--to paint a bigger picture.

Informational interviews are also great, especially if you’re interested in learning more about those career paths above. 

You can also explore the field a bit more in-person by starting off with a Masters (less time commitment than a PhD, though more expensive), or an entry-level research job like I did. 

Best of luck! 

[rubyredsundae]

Mass Effect Trilogy Tag!

I was not tagged by anyone, I just really wanted to join in. If you see this and want to as well, please do! I've been loving reading through everyone's :)

I am a fan since… 2011ish? Definitely at least a year before ME3 came out. I remember watching my brother play ME2 and thinking it was so cool. While he was away it was a huge comfort for me to play it in his room, kind of like a bonding or cathartic experience for someone who wasn't there at the time.

When ME3 came out, me and him went to the midnight release at a gamestop like 40 minutes away or something, wearing clothes we threw together to kind of fit the N7 color scheme. Even though we don't talk anymore, those memories are still really precious to me. Also, the nostalgia of playing ME1 after-school or on the weekend, running to get my easy mac from the microwave during a cutscene, stuffing too hot mouthfuls while speeding the Mako towards the conduit on Ilos.

Favorite game of the series: It's a tough call between ME1 and ME2, but I'd say ME2. It's the game I get the urge to replay the most.

MaleShep or FemShep? Femshep all the way. I only play MShep when I want to do his exclusive romances. No offense to BroShep, but ME was the first game I ever played that let me not just be a girl, but customizable. Not just to be the already generated token girl character in a pack of boys. And not only can you play Femshep, but every game you are surrounded by smart, funny, tough women as squadmates. It was such a huge deal to me, and still is. Femshep represents so much. As Jennifer Hale put it, FemShep was a military grade boot to the video game industry glass ceiling.

Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer? I personally tend to lean spacer in-game, but I tend to use Earthborn when I'm writing fics.

Paragon or Renegade? Usually Paragon, but Renegade playthroughs can be really interesting, especially if I have a detailed background about why Shep is the way they are. My first Renegade, Krystle, is pretty bigoted and anti-alien until she meets Liara. Krystle is naturally guarded and quick to anger, so meeting someone who seemed to accept her and listen to her without judgment really opens her mind.

By the 2nd game, she wakes up in the cerberus lab with new biotic powers, having previously been a regular foot soldier. This makes her seeth, having someone completely take her agency, agreeing with the illusive man on the surface but plotting against him the entire time. She starts to lean more Paragon, if only to piss him off. She has the biggest smirk on her face when she blows up the collector base.

Biotics or Tech? Oooh, this is hard. Maybe biotics just the tiniest smidge because of Jack/Samara biotic bubble throw during the suicide mission. I don't know if we'll ever get a screen adaptation but THAT is a moment I would pay to see done with a big SFX budget behind it.

Favorite class: Sentinel! I don't know how much this reflects on my class preference in gaming in general, but I love the 'jack of all trades'ness of it. By the time I get an assault rifle, I don't really feel the need for anyone else to make up for something I lack. Also, tech armor in ME2? Where your shields regenerate automatically when it breaks, and the cool down is when you initially active it, instead of when you detonate it? Chef's kiss. I understand why it was nerfed in 3 but I'm still mad.

Favorite companion: Ho boy. This is obviously very difficult to choose but I'm gonna say Miranda. I've always loved and identified with her character, I love the accent, and she's always useful on missions. I was so happy when I learned she could be a squadmate in the armax arena.

Honorable mention to Ashley in ME1. Her character is rarely used to exposition lore, so she just gets to have her personality fleshed out. I don't always agree with her but she does seem genuinely willing to listen. ME3 tosses her out the airlock though; partially because her content was bugged and never restored, leaving her inclusion feel half-baked, and partly because Ash and Kaidan have to be able to serve the same plot function as each other and it negatively affects her character more than his. This could also be intentional on bioware's part, to try to flesh out kaidan's personality and tone down Ashley's as a response to criticisms of them from ME1.

Least favorite companion: Also difficult, because I don't really hate anyone as much as I am just less interested in some. I didn't like Zaeed for a long time, but I think he's much better and really funny in ME3. James was pushed on me too much at the beginning and it made me really dislike him, but I think he's greatly improved and also pretty funny in Citadel DLC. I'm also pretty indifferent to Jacob; I don't think he's a bad character, just disappointing because there was a lot of potential.

Not that every character has to go on and do some grand quest to be interesting, but I don't feel like Jacob every really got a big hero moment like everyone else. He is a very calm and introverted person (imo) who doesn't really share his feelings, so it's always been hard for to to connect with him on anything.

My squad selection: Depends on the game, but it usually involves Garrus lol. Typically it's Liara/Garrus in ME1, Miranda/Garrus for ME2, and Liara/Garrus again in ME3. I am very boring and predictable! If you have any suggestions for me to try out and mix things up, let me know!

Favorite in-game romance: Also depends on the game. ME1 it's Liara, hands down. It was the first game, really the first piece of media, where I was told two women could fall in love and be happy and that was okay. The amount of enlightenment and comfort in figuring out that I was bi these games brought me is kind of wild to look back on.

ME2 is a toss-up between Garrus and Thane. They are both wonderful but in completely different ways. I tend to now romance Thane on characters I don't plan on importing to ME3, or if I do, to just have a really depressed fucking Shepard lol. I hate how much Thane was brushed off, especially if you romanced him.

Other pairings I like: l love Miranda so much, but I'm a gay girl so I ship her and Femshep. Same goes for Tali, Jack, Ashley... damn I'm just really gay for straight girls huh :/

I don't really have any other ships for non-Shep related pairings.

Favorite NPC: Shiala is really cool to me, I wish we got to see her in 3. Emily Wong is also cool, also wish we saw her in 3. There's probably a lot more that when I come across them next I'll be like, "you! I love you! You're my favorite."

Oh also Joker! And EDI! But not together. Idk I feel like ME3 threw a curveball at me with "do you support organic/non-organic relationships?" Like m'am please don't ask me, I accidentally drank turian liquor last year, I'm not qualified to be an expert on this.

Favorite antagonist: Tbh I really dig Saren. I think his reasoning is super fascinating, both to set up how someone who's indoctrinated can rationalize to themselves that they are still in control; and as a foil to Shepard, to show what can happen when you become too isolated and the ends justify the means. I think his VA does a great job of walking the line between desperate survivor and madman. He's also the only antagonist in the trilogy that we ever fight 1 on 1 (ignoring squadmates) and it feels more personal. I think he's such a fantastic foe for the first entry in a trilogy and I don't think he gets enough credit.

Favorite mission: Is it cliche to say the suicide mission? It's honestly close to perfect. The stakes, the sequencing, the cinematics, the score. Everything works so well.

Favorite loyalty mission: Kasumi's and Tali's are really cool, as we all know. Samara's is also cool because it is entirely non-combat based. Shepard has to prove they can accomplish what seems impossible without a gun or biotics.

The confrontation at the end with Morinth always haunts me a little, because they are both right in their own way. Morinth's final line, "and they say I'm the monster", as you let Samara kill her, watch her scrambling backwards in fear... I know that she's a remorseless killer, but it gets me every time.

Favorite DLC: It's Citadel, obviously. Turns out what I really wanted was quality time and a party with all my friends. I love mass effect for many reasons, but simulating friends and affection when I had none has always made me bond to this series like other games don't. Is it sad? Sure! But I don't think love and affection for fictional characters should ever be shameful until it makes you hurt other people.

Control, Synthesis or Destroy? I'd say destroy. If the other options were presented earlier and we had time to stew with it, maybe I'd be more split. But all of this in 5 minutes? It's not like the collector base where the implications are obvious and the choice is just down to what Shepard believes. The 3 choices all seem like space magic out of nowhere, and none of them seem to really offer any insight on what Shepard should believe. So I say destroy, just because it's what Shep has intended and is most consistent with their character and their admiration of Anderson.

Favorite weapon: The spectre level assault rifle in ME1. Never have I felt more powerful.

Favorite place: Idk why but I just thought of the creepy lab with all the scientists during the leviathan DLC. I really love when Mass Effect leans into the Lovecraftian horror aspect of things. Talking to Sovereign and Vigil in ME1 gave me goosebumps my first few playthroughs.

A quote I like: I have hundreds, but the one off the top of my head is, "After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began." I have a poster of it up on my wall right now!

[sarissophori]

Forebode, Chapter 5

Captain Hindel sat in the bridge as the shuttle maneuvered in for docking. She had since muted the feeds to spare her crew the sound of Varrez’s crying, though allowed the feeds to continue playing. Protocol aside, she decided against hiding this from her officers; even if she wanted to, it was well past the point.

       She still couldn’t believe it on some level. Her first mission as captain, in charge of a new crew, and she already suffered a fatality under her watch. A gruesome one at that.

       “Someone better tell Dr. Walsh to cancel that surgery” Komev said, finally looking away.

       “I sent them in” Hindel said softly. “I told them to go inside.”

       “You didn’t know this would happen” Ellson said.

       Hindel scoffed. “Oh yes, go investigate the strange alien ruin on an unexplored moon, what could possibly go wrong?”

       “Captain” Tajmaran said. “The power surge from the structure has gone off our charts, still rising.”

       On XH-Ld’s surface, from the midst of the fossilized forest, a point of light shone and grew, flickering in a pulse that emitted a bright band of energy that spread across the moon like a ripple on a pond, racing over plains and mountains, vainly annihilating a world already dead, until it overlapped itself on the opposite end, breaking against its own wave. The pulse stopped, the readings dropped, and XH-Ld was sterilized once more.

       The bridge crew watched, though found little amazement in it. They felt like children uncovering a harsh truth hidden from them by cautious parents, stumbling blindly into it without context, all the more scarred by it.

       “Shuttle’s docked, ma’am” Ellson said.

       “Tell them to meet me in my quarters when they’re able” Hindel said. “You have the bridge, Ellson.”

 Word spread through the ship about Talgold’s death, creating an air of confusion and sadness, especially with Dr. Walsh. Hindel waited at her desk, equal parts patient and anxious, wondering how she would inform Sorenson of this, and how the company would inform his family.

       Her console chimed.

       “Captain’s quarters.”

       “Hornens reporting, ma’am. Let me start by saying I’m sorry to hear about Talgold.”

       “Thank you.”

       “I’ve got the flight recorder sorted out” Hornens said. “And the damn thing’s encrypted. Most of it, anyway. Code Three.”

       “Three?” Hindel said. “That’s company eyes only.”

       “Sure is” Hornens said. “So unless we’ve got a high-ranking CEO onboard, this has pretty much been a waste of time.”

       Hindel thought a few moments, keeping him on the line.

       “Captain, you there?”

       “Do you have any experience with such encryptions, Mr. Hornens?”

       Hornens scoffed. “What?”

       “I’ve read your file. You used to write code for Sorenson’s security division before transferring to engineering, not on the happiest of terms either.”

       “That was years ago” Hornens said. “Even if I did, accessing those files without executive approval is a felony offense. We could lose our jobs just talking about this.”

       “One of my crew has already lost his life” Hindel said. “And an entire ship was lost before that. I’d say those are circumstances warranting a peek behind the curtain, wouldn’t you?”

       “I don’t think they will.”

       “If they bring down the hammer, tell them I threatened you with insubordination and confinement; I’m a first-time captain gone hysterical who almost had you thrown out the airlock; I’ll make up the story, all you have to do is back me up on it.”

       Hornens laughed nervously. “I’d never ask you to do that.”

       “What would you do if you were in my position, Mr. Hornens?”

       Now he kept her waiting on the line. He sighed. “Give me an hour. Hornens out.”

 A few minutes later Varrez, Han and Barrens entered her quarters, their faces pale and sunken. Dr. Walsh was with them, standing to the side as an impartial listener. Their debriefing started at when they first lost contact in the structure, going methodically and painfully over the details up to the point communications were reestablished; Talgold’s activation of the structure, how its interface injured and affected him, and the creatures that attacked them. Here the debriefing lingered, having the hardest questions and the rawest emotions.

       “We can’t tell you what they were” Han said in summary. “Animals, aliens, if it was the builders of that ruin mutated by infection, or if that’s just how they naturally looked.”

       He shuddered. “I’d hate to think anything like that could be natural, though.”

       “But now what happened to the Wanderer makes more sense” Barrens said. “The growth in the lab, the blood on the walls; it must’ve infected some of them. It wasn’t a mutiny; it was an outbreak.”

       “Do we still have samples of this onboard, Dr. Han?” Hindel said.

       “Not anymore” Han said. “As soon as we returned, I vaporized all the samples. I sterilized the containers and vaporized them too, just in case.”

       “I guess procedures were less strict on the Wanderer” Varrez said flatly. “Didn’t know what they were dealing with, treated it like another benign specimen.”

       “And it was one of the infected crew that attacked you, killing Talgold?” Hindel said.

       Barrens shrugged. “As far as any of us can tell.”

       “Where is his body?”

       “In one of the pressurized rooms by the hangar. He got decontaminated with the rest of us, but I’d keep him in there just in case.”

       “Doctor” Hindel said, turning to Walsh. “Given the nature of what we’re dealing with, keeping his body for an autopsy or any other reason would be putting the crew in unnecessary danger of infection, would it not?”

       “Agreed” Walsh said. “Best to give Talgold his proper send-off, seeing as we have no way to vaporize an entire body. Sooner, rather than later.”

       “Very well” Hindel said. “If there’s nothing left to discuss, I declare this briefing, and this mission, over. I’ll notify the company, and set a course for home.”

       “Roger that” Barrens said. The others silently nodded.

       “I’ll personally see to Talgold’s remaining affairs, if you don’t mind” Walsh said. “Least I can do, being his former superior.”

       “Not at all” Hindel said. “And I’m sure it goes without saying that everything that happened on the surface, and this debriefing, is to remain classified, especially when we return to port. Understood?”

       “Yes ma’am” they said.

       “Good, I’ll inform the others as well. Dismissed.”

       They filed out in a somber mood, returning to their stations or to their bunks, whichever seemed better. Varrez remained, sitting quietly, looking beyond where eyes could see with unbroken concentration.

       “Varrez?”

       She blinked. “Captain?”

       “Do you need anything?”

       Varrez smiled thinly.

       “No ma’am, I’m sorry, it’s just…after what happened, I never thought I’d actually look forward to a cryo-pod.”

       “I think we all are” Hindel said. “Remember, if you do need anything, I’m right here.”

       “Of course, thank you captain.”

       Varrez excused herself and left, leaving Hindel alone. One heartfelt sigh and music request from her console database later, her chime went off.

       “Captain’s quarters.”

       “Hornens reporting, ma’am. I’ve accessed the logs and have them on file. Should I send them over?”

       “Please.”

       “Transferring…”

       An icon appeared on her screen. She tapped it and opened a catalog of feeds, reports, archives and personal logs, arranged from oldest to newest.

       “I owe you one, Mr. Hornens.”

       “Let’s hope it was worth it, Hornens out.”

       The catalog began with the Wanderer’s entering of the XH system and ended, rather abruptly, after a few dozen logs, the latest dated a week after the crew’s waking. Hindel chose a written log mid-way through the list and worked her way down.

 <Log 5

 Anderson, Samuel M. manual report

 Mission time: 4,452.17.03 hours

 Northern hemisphere fully mapped. Found several promising sites for

 further exploration; schedules already made and preparations underway.

 Results should be interesting.>

 It came with a list of attachments, scans of the promising sites: basins, dry river valleys, et cetera, and one Hindel recognized. She tapped to enlarge the image, and felt immediate dread. It was the fossilized forest where the alien structure was hidden. She flipped through more logs and reports.  

 <Log 8

 Anderson, Samuel M. manual report

 Mission time: 4,467.37.11 hours

 Site 15-45 checked out today. Quite the anomaly. Samples taken and studied.

 Wanted to investigate strange readings inside, but sudden storm caused

 mission abort. Will return on better conditions. Content with samples

 until then.>

 So they didn’t find the structure? How did they encounter the creatures then? She opened an audio file from their science officer, dated a little after Anderson’s eighth entry.

         Science division, Dr. Alder recording. Following a hunch about XH-Ld’s previous climate conditions, I’ve placed some of the samples in a nutrient-rich bath inside a container of oxygen. An hour into the test, and already I’m getting signs of revitalization. If it keeps going this well, I might do similar tests with the other samples. Who knows what we could learn from this tough little son of a gun? It would be worth a lifetime’s worth of work to see what kind of flowers bloom from that forest once we get a colony going. End report.

 She read her way to the two last entries on the file. The next to last was the final audio log from Dr. Alder.

         Science division, Dr. Alder recording. A day into the test and the samples are getting too big for their containers. I had to move them to the largest ones I’ve got. Their rate of growth and regeneration is astounding; just imagine the medical applications. Also, they’ve begun to sprout fungi-like protrusions; I plan on testing those as well, as soon as I find more containers. End report.

 Then, the last entry. It was a video recording from a personal log, with no date or description. After a little hesitance, she played it.

 Through the initial static, it showed the efforts of two people soldering a pressure door shut, breathing heavily and muttering worriedly.

       “Think that’ll hold?” a man said off-camera.

       “No” a woman said, also off-camera. “None of the others did.”

       The perspective then went bobbing down a corridor, held by shaking, nerve-wracked hands.

       “Oh-kay…” the male voice said. “This is Captain Sam Anderson recording what will likely be my final log. The sample, the thing…it’s devoured most of my crew by now, turned them into, into…”

       He paused for a breath, swallowing the knot in his throat.

       “They swept through the ship so fast, it’s only me, Tanaka, Gavin and O’Keeffe left. The rest are gone. If the company sends a rescue party, if someone comes looking for us, get out of here…get the hell out of here, before it devours you too…”

       His frayed composure slipped for a second, and he began to sob. Fighting his pending breakdown, Anderson continued.

       “I’m going to crash the ship and jettison a pod with the flight recorder inside. Hopefully, that and the high-level encryptions will keep it intact until someone finds it. Please find this. For the love of God, find this. It’s too late for us. This is Captain Anderson, signing off.”

 Static, then nothing.

Heart pounding and herself on the brink of tears, Hindel jumped from her chair and ran out of her quarters, sliding down the ladder to C-deck. Pausing only to catch herself from slipping, she barged into the rec room where Barrens, his men, and doctors Han, Varrez and Walsh were gathered. Her haggard stance immediately put them on edge.

       “Barrens!” she said. “You and I are getting into pressure suits and spacing that body, right now, do you understand?”

       Barrens, flat-footed, gave a quick “Yes ma’am.”

       She ran back down the corridor, Barrens following close behind. Varrez’s fingers started to tremble. She glanced at Han and Walsh.

       “This just won’t end, will it?”

[tillidontneedfantasy]

Defined by the Things She Loves: A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 7th Studio Album, ‘Lover.’

Contrary to popular belief and misconception, Taylor Swift has always been more of a lover than a fighter. Yes, she can be a fighter, but only when she feels she has no choice. Often times, the combative side of her is brought out as a means to protect her ability to love. “Combat, I’m ready for combat. I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?” is how Swift opens up the vulnerable fifth track from her new album, Lover, titled “The Archer,” in which she explores her automatic defenses when things go well, because how can they possibly stay that way? This is an incessant fear of Swift’s, as seen through her personal diary entries included in the 4 different deluxe versions of the album. In deluxe album 2, there is an entry from 21-year-old Taylor that says: “This ridiculous thing happens to me when I’m this happy...I start feeling like karma will balance it all out by making something tragic happen.”

She then counters her own negative thinking: “But I’m trying to just show gratitude as much as I can. Every day, every minute. I’m grateful for being happy right this moment.” In the foreword for this album, Swift notes how a majority of these diary entries actually do document her taking a moment to cherish the small joys in her life: “I wrote about tiny details in my life in these diaries from a bygone age with such...wonderment. Intrigue. Romance. I noticed things and decided they were romantic, and so they were.” And not much has changed. Even on reputation (2017), an album that evokes a combative stance, or so it seemed to the naked eye, she still always finds the romance in life. Coincidentally, reputation is an album in which the general public took around 2 years to admit was actually good. In a lot of ways, it felt like the reputation era was deliberate in that sense, as if Taylor only trusted her loyal fans to get what she was trying to say and do, almost not wanting the skeptics and overly zealous critics to see what was underneath the armor. All the reviews of reputation slammed it as an album about her infamous feuds, and although they are of course addressed famously on songs such as “Look What You Made Me Do,” “I Did Something Bad,” and “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” and sprinkled a little more here and there throughout, that was more of a distraction to the actual inspiration: love. Almost every other track on reputation explores her anxiety and relief around her newfound relationship at the time with British actor Joe Alwyn. It’s really a love story about finding someone who sees you for who you really are, rather than how the world is painting you.

On Lover, Swift takes command of the paintbrush, trying to get the world to see her the way her “lover” and her fans have the whole time. In “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” from reputation, Swift sings, “deep blue, but you painted me golden.” On “Daylight,” Lover’s closer, she describes love as golden like daylight. “Step into the daylight and let it go,” she almost whispers. She’s shedding her snakeskin, and she is ready for people to see her in all her loving and golden glory.

Swift is a storyteller like no other pop singer this generation, and so it would feel wrong to skip any chapter of this beautiful story. And thus, please join me in the track-by-track breakdown of the triumphant and magical Lover.

01. I FORGOT THAT YOU EXISTED

“How many days did I spend thinking ‘bout how you did me wrong?” she opens the album, seemingly reflecting on the reputation era and image. She revels in the magical feeling of forgetting that someone who wronged you even existed; obviously not forever, but just for even a single moment when you’ve realized, “Ah, I’ve made it to indifference! How wonderful!” She laughs and becomes more playful as the song progresses, showing her relief, although not exactly her freedom. In a recent interview with CBS Sunday morning, Swift asserts, "You know, people go on and on about, like, you have to forgive and forget to move past something. No, you don't. You don't have to forgive and you don't have to forget to move on. You can move on without any of those things happening. You just become indifferent, and then you move on." This sentiment is evident throughout the song, and in the nonchalant way she ends it by going, “so...yeah...” As in, yes the drama has affected me, but I’ve come to terms with it, so let’s move on, shall we? And so, we shall! 

02. CRUEL SUMMER

Sometimes, listening to a song can feel like electrocution. “Cruel Summer” is an immediate shock to the system following the bubbly first track. Suddenly, for 2 minutes and 58 seconds, we’re transported back into the anxiety of reputation, but through a different lens. Chronicling what seems to be a fraught start to her current relationship, Swift seems to be suffocating under her own emotions, trying to play it casual and cool, however against her nature. The production is astounding, and it is one of her most intriguing songs to date. Each lyric can be analyzed again and again from a new perspective, leaving you to wonder more and more. (And what so significant happened at a vending machine that she felt the need to include it in this story?) At the climax of the song, she admits that she can no longer keep her feelings secret, and has to risk telling him how she feels, even if that means losing him. “I scream, ‘for whatever it’s worth, I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’” she shouts in the bridge. Earlier in the track she states that “devils roll the dice,” and after her dicey proclamation of love she tells the audience that “he looks up grinning like a devil,” as if he were to say, “Of course I love you back, I rolled the dice for it to be so, didn’t I?” The entire song can be interpreted in a multitude of ways, but one thing is certain: the summer may have been cruel, but it was all love come the fall.

03. LOVER

The best-received and final pre-release, the title track is an ode to her main muse for this album. “Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” she wonders, before asking to be with her lover forever and ever. She’s felt like she’s known him for almost her whole life, and wants to spend the rest of it with him, too. So much so that the bridge sounds like Swift’s (future? past? are they secretly married?) wedding vows, especially with the play on words for something borrowed and blue. The song even sounds like it’s being played by a wedding band with the use of live instruments. Although it has been pushed as a single and is destined to be a wedding song for many couples to come, I unfortunately cannot see it having the same success as Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” or “Perfect,” despite its superior lyrics and greater emotional depth. And why might that be, you ask? Great segue into the next track... 

04. THE MAN

It’s really a staggering thought experiment to think of how Taylor Swift’s career would be perceived if she was a man. I could write a novel on this, but Taylor did a pretty good job of summing it up in a 3-minute pop song: if she was a man, she’d be THE man. This is without question the truth. The woman has 10 Grammys and countless other accolades, she has written her own music since the beginning of time (her third album, Speak Now [2010], was entirely self-written, no co-writers). Yet she is continually ridiculed and mocked for things for which men are praised. Swift sings the song slickly in her very comfortable alto-range, which feels purposeful. It feels oddly powerful to hear Taylor Swift sing the word “bitch” twice in one song, which not only hearkens back to her defense for the infamous Kimye call, but for a moment really highlights the distinguished usages of the word “bitch,” forcing you to really consider why we let men just get away with it. And yes, the song’s take on misogyny is pretty surface level, but Taylor herself only has to deal with it on such a level, so we have to work with what we’ve got. Either way, I don’t think I’ll ever be over the line, “I’d be just like Leo in Saint-Tropez.” Someone had to say it, and she did!

05. THE ARCHER

The third pre-release from Lover, “The Archer” is a slow-build examination of Swift’s role in her relationships, both with others and herself. We have never seen this side of Taylor, but it feels like we were waiting for it all along, like we needed it. It’s very rare that someone as successful as Swift lays out their deepest flaws and insecurities for the world, other than Lorde on “Liability,” also co-produced and written by Jack Antonoff. “I never grew up, it’s getting so old,” she says, echoing a common criticism of the way she has dealt with feuds or breakups publicly.  “The Archer” is placed at track 5, a track that Swift has historically reserved for the most vulnerable song on the album. The bridge officially earns this spot; it is simple and simultaneously one of her best ever, as she transitions from, “They see right through me” to “Can you see right through me?” and then finally to an agonizing “I see right through me.” Swift’s self-awareness is painfully relatable, as she pleads, “help me hold onto you,” after each pre-chorus as an important reminder that sometimes we need to ask for help in order to grow.

06. I THINK HE KNOWS

It almost feels like whiplash going from the vulnerability of “The Archer” to a song that has the line, “He’s so obsessed with me, and boy, I understand!” But it’s a fun type of whiplash, as if Taylor is saying “wipe your tears and let’s skip down 16th avenue together.” What is admirable about Swift’s craft is that she is able to mature and cover maybe more sexual topics in her music while still keeping it discrete enough for her younger audience. “Where we gonna go? I think he knows,” feels like a wink to the camera (microphone?) moment. And yes, Taylor, we do know. Happy for you, girl.

07. MISS AMERICANA & THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE

Many deemed Lover’s second single, “You Need to Calm Down,” along with its Video of the Year winning music video, which explicitly outlines her support for LGBTQ rights, as an outright opportunistic ploy to win over liberal music consumers rather than a genuine showing of solidarity. The unflashy “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” proves that Swift means business. The casual listener might not realize the subject matter right away as it masked underneath school tropes and cheerleader chants. Quite effectively, Swift uses high school as a metaphor for the current political state. This song could be better explained through a 7 page MLA formatted essay, but in short, it’d be helpful to take note of Swift’s recent explanation and regret  for her silence during the 2016 election. The lyric “they whisper in the hallway, ‘she’s a bad, bad girl,’” echoes the similarities between Swift and Hillary Clinton that she outlined to Vogue. It is refreshing to hear Taylor write about something perhaps out of her comfort zone with the same eloquence and strength as she would about topics she’s been writing about for years, and her message is clear: she is against the current president and administration, and always has been. “Boys will be boys, then where are the wise men? Darling, I’m scared,” she sings frantically. Me too, Taylor.

08. PAPER RINGS

Quite like “Lover,” this song feels timeless. “Paper Rings” is a series of quips, connecting the moon being high to his friends, her cold wine to her cold shoulder, and feeling blue to the color they painted his brother’s wall. There’s quite a charming sigh after she chants that she will kiss him a third time “’cause you waited your whole life,” and then proceeds to proclaim that she would marry her lover even with paper rings. With the upbeat, musical number like rhythm and the line, “I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this,” this track is destined to be in romantic comedy films until the end of time, as it should.

09. CORNELIA STREET

Out of all 18 tracks on Lover, “Cornelia Street” is the most reminiscent of Taylor’s staple songwriting, and self-written at that. A beautiful, lengthy retelling of the “sacred new beginnings” of her relationship, the song centers around the street on which she rented an apartment in 2016. She swears if she lost him, she’d never walk the street again. Once again, Taylor masters the ability to make extremely personal details feel completely universal; we all know what it’s like to associate a specific place or time with someone we love or lost, and how that link can never be fully broken. It’s hard to smell the scent of someone you no longer speak to, or hear their favorite song, or walk down the street where you shared something special. On top of the beautiful production, the way Taylor’s voice cracks right before the last chorus when she says, “I’d never walk Cornelia Street again,” is just an immediate tear duct trigger. You need proof that Swift can write on her own? Look no further.

10. DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

Inspired by the Netflix film Someone Great (which was coincidentally inspired by Swift’s “Clean” from 1989 [2014], says writer and director Jennifer Kaytin Robinson), “Death By A Thousand Cuts” explores the pain of separating from someone, not because some tragic event happened that tore you apart, but because you naturally grew away from each other. “Gave you too much but it wasn’t enough / but I’ll be all right, it’s just a thousand cuts,” she tries to say casually. There is a unique mixture of production styles, and an absolutely mesmerizing bit of piano at the end of the hook. The echoing “my, my, my, my” in the beginning makes sense when it returns for the second half of the song, in which Swift lists all of the things taken up by this person. Though we know this song is not from personal experience, it shows that she can still write one hell of a breakup song.

11. LONDON BOY

A catchy, upbeat song filled with totally cliche tropes of London men, including British vernacular such as “I fancy you!” While some people are taking the song a bit too seriously, it is a fun track that shows just how head-over-heels she truly is with Joe Alwyn, as she giddily describes herself as a child when their eyes meet. “They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives,” she croons. Although the meaning of the saying “home is where the heart is” would point to the fact that her home would actually be in London with her lover rather than where she’s from, it’s still a cute twist on the phrase. 

12. SOON YOU’LL GET BETTER featuring The Dixie Chicks

Probably the saddest song Taylor has ever written, “Soon You’ll Get Better” is a mantra to her mother, Andrea, during her cancer relapse. (The Dixie Chicks, Andrea’s favorite artist, lend their beautiful harmonies). However, it is also a mantra to herself to get through the impossible. “Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too,” “I know delusion when I see it in the mirror,” and “I just pretend it isn’t real” painfully show how Taylor is dealing with it. But she’s willing to go to any lengths for her mom as she sings, “I’ll paint the kitchen neon, I’ll brighten up the sky / I know I’ll never get it, there’s not a day that I won’t try.” One of the most heartbreaking moments comes in the bridge with the lyric “I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to?” She has said multiple times that she does not think she’ll ever perform the song live and that she cannot even listen to it. Anyone going through a similar situation can understand; it’s a very difficult song to get through without crying. And although the pain Taylor and her family must be going through is unimaginable, there is extreme bravery in sharing such a personal account that is also, unfortunately, a universal experience.

13. FALSE GOD

“False God” is a sultry and confident song about convincing herself and her partner that they can still make their relationship work despite all of the breaking points they’ve reached. “I’m New York City, I still do it for you, babe,” she states, reassuring the both of them that she shines like the brightest city in the world, and there’s no way he’s going to let that go...right? The track is elevated to another level by the saxophone in the chorus, and the way she almost trips over her words, somewhat offbeat with the track in the pre-chorus when she says, “They all warned us about times like this / they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith” feels like she’s guiding the listener through the uncertainty and desperation behind blind faith too.

14. YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN

Lover’s second single, “You Need to Calm Down,” is a song about dealing with people who just can’t mind their damn business, divided into three parts: the online bullying Taylor has received, the homophobia displayed outside of her concerts by Westboro Baptist protesters, and the constant comparisons between and competition projected onto different female artists. With its release during Pride month and an array of LGBTQ celebrities in the music video, casual listeners were extremely skeptical of Swift’s intentions, feeling as if she is only showing support for the LGBTQ community now because she thinks it will help advance her career. This judgment is misplaced for two reasons: 1) Swift started off in country music, and so the majority of her fanbase are from red states, so she has much more to lose than to gain, 2) clearly these people have not been paying attention; not only has Swift shown her support to the community in various ways throughout the years, but this is already her second time showing it through music, as she celebrates “you can want who you want, boys and boys and girls and girls” in 1989′s opening track, “Welcome to New York.” Again, she wants to show that she values love- all types of love- above all. Was Swift’s execution perfect? No. Were her intentions in the right place? Yes. Everyone’s been crying for Swift to be more outspoken, and she’s doing her best. And she has been continually showing avid support for The Equality Act, as she started a petition which she asks people to sign at the end of the video. And although I am straight and cisgender and thus everything I just said isn’t actually important, and what really matters is what her fans in the LGBTQ community have to say, I have seen many of them express feeling really seen by their favorite pop star because of this song, and isn’t that the most important part of it all? Taylor can definitely do more and do better, but it’s a genuine start.

15. AFTERGLOW

It’s been years of pleading...years of completely original outcries...”Write a song called ‘Maybe I’m The Problem’!’” Well, maybe she didn’t make that the title, but “Afterglow” is the closest thing we’re going to get. “Hey, it’s all me, in my head / I’m the one who burned us down, but it’s not what I meant / Sorry that I hurt you,” she apologizes, taking complete ownership for a blowout. “Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves,” she observes, as when you hurt someone you love so much you are also hurting yourself. Then she turns the fight on its head, making it for one another instead of with one another: “This ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight.” Lover is such an interesting album from Taylor Swift because we get to see the sides of her in love we haven’t before, and in “Afterglow” she shows us all sides: combative, overdramatic, reflective, apologetic, and reparative. So maybe it’s time to retire the joke, kids.

16. ME! featuring Brendon Urie

I don’t care what anyone says: spelling IS fun. And it’s truly tragic (yes, tragic) that Swift decided to remove such a bold assertion from the lead single, “ME!” right before the album’s release. When it comes to Swift, it seems like her critics are constantly waiting for her downfall, which in some way admits that they know she’s good. But what they fail to comprehend is that a songwriter can write serious, profound songs as well as songs that are just for a laugh or to make them feel good. Anytime Swift engages in the latter, it’s responded with aggressive amounts of “Taylor Swift sucks! This song is horrible!” And then when the full album comes out, they sigh, “Damn it, she doesn’t actually suck- just that one song does,” and await the next album cycle for her to prove them wrong again. It seems like Swift is the only one of her contemporaries to receive this treatment. (I wonder why? See: “The Man.”) Was “ME!” a great single choice? Not really. Is it one of the weakest songs on the album overall? Unfortunately, yes. But within the context of the album, following songs like “False God” and “Afterglow,” she’s trying to say, “Yeah, I’ve messed up, but I clean up my messes, and what we have is special because we are both individually special.” That’s a great message! Just because something might appeal to children doesn’t inherently make it childish. And you know what? You literally cannot spell ‘awesome’ without ‘me.’ (And by the way, Brendon Urie is actually the one who wrote the bridge, but alas, no one cares. I repeat, see: “The Man.”) Either way, the overwhelming ridicule over the lyric “spelling is fun” as if the girl was truly serious rather than just trying to be silly was simply ridiculous. I wish Taylor could have just let the haters hate and instead just shake shake shake, but she succumbed to their criticism. RIP spelling is fun, I still have you on the original copy of the single I bought on iTunes and will cherish you forever. 

17. IT’S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND

The shortest track on the album and the most hauntingly beautiful, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” features a sample from students of Regent Park School of Music in Toronto. How fitting too, as it tells a tale of childhood love. Swift starts off the first verse by gently singing, “School bell rings, walk me home / sidewalk chalk covered in snow,” and then begins the final verse with, “Church bells ring, carry me home / rice on the ground, looks like snow.” The parallel between these verses highlights that at the end of the day, eternal love is really all about forever friendship, in all its forms.

18. DAYLIGHT

“Real love shines golden like starlight, and doesn’t fade or spontaneously combust. Maybe I’ll write a whole album about that kind of love if I ever find it,” Swift wrote in the prologue of the Red (2012) lyric booklet. Well, she did find it, as is evident throughout the entire album. But it’s stronger than starlight: “I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden like daylight,” she sings on the final track of this album. In a perfect closing, Swift describes this love as the light at the end of a “twenty-year dark night.” Now that she has this love, she doesn’t want to look at anything else; she just wants to soak it all in. “Daylight” is hope; it is the message that things always get lighter eventually as long as you let love in. That love can be from anywhere: a parent, a friend, a lover, a song, an album, an inspiration. But you have to let go of the darkness, even when it's all you’ve known for so long, in order to embrace the new. Taylor did that, and we can all follow the daylight she now emits as our guide. 

“I want to be defined by the things that I love,” she declares in a spoken ending. And I believe that this celebration of love through Lover will not only define her professional career, but also her personal legacy.

DISCLAIMER - REVIEWER’S BIAS: Taylor Swift is THE songwriter of our generation. This isn’t bias this is just a fact. Why Are You Booing Me I’m Right dot jpeg.

[ralfmaximus]

Living with a Smart Gun

Marta decided she needed a gun after the boost had gone wrong.

Oh, technically, it’d gone flawlessly – 1.2B New Yen siphoned away from Bank Shanghai and into six different offshore accounts, undetected – but when she’d gone to get paid… that’s when things went sour.

She wasn’t a people person. Normally the human relations aspect of her work were handled by Konroy, but he’d fled the country temporarily and hadn’t returned her calls in weeks. She needed to eat. So she’d dug through his list of contacts, found a likely client, and reached out. The job specs they’d sent her seemed easy enough, and it was.

But upon meeting with the lovely folks behind the mail address she realized her mistake: upon delivery she had no leverage over them. The money was boosted, and they had the account numbers and passwords. To her dismay they even had the keys to her secret, 7th account, the one she’d nabbed for herself. Apparently they’d had a tech of their own shadowing her the whole time and she’d been careless.

Hunger will do that to you, she mused, as they broke her left arm, laughing. They beat her ass out into the alley behind the gaming parlor and walked away without looking back. She’d wanted to kill them all at that moment, and if only she’d had a gun…

Broken arm, at least one broken rib, and both eyes swollen shut. Missing tooth.

Konroy wouldn’t have let this happen. But he was gone. She needed to protect herself now. Laying on damp concrete among cardboard boxes and dumpsters, her left arm a shrieking, grinding agony, Marta pulled up a list of clinics from Konroy’s little black book. She selected one certified to install Personal Protection systems and left a message before passing out.

--

The black clinic was clean and bright, the black part referring only to its off-the-grid status. They never asked questions.

Marta lay in an antique dentist chair, her left arm gripped in padded waldos. It had already been peeled open, radius and ulna exposed, a soft green laser rotating as it mapped the break. She was numb from the shoulder down; a spinal block.

The nameless tech hummed as she worked, watching her arm rotate in 3D on a monitor.

“A simple break, easily repaired,” the tech nodded in satisfaction. “We’ll have you out of here in thirty minutes.”

“Question,” Marta held up her right hand. The tech swiveled to peer at her with calm eyes.

“You install PP systems here, right?”

Without reacting, the tech nodded. “Certified in all forms of PPS. Do you wish to review a catalog?”

“No. I know what I want.” Marta reeled off a make and model number from memory. She’d been researching.

The tech paused, not exhibiting surprise so much as a delay while she accessed databases. Eventually she shook her head slowly. “That model is—“

“Yes, I know. Proscribed.” Marta used her good right hand to indicate the duffel she’d brought with her into the exam room. It was stuffed with New Yen scrip, but they both knew that.

The tech accessed databases again and nodded after a moment. “Yes, that unit is in stock.”

“Well, I want one. Make it happen.”

“Your left arm?”

“Since it’s already open, sure.”

Another pause, the tech’s expression gone blank. “There is a difficulty. Your augmentations are rated at level 5. The smart gun you have requested requires level 6 or higher.” She stopped there, watching silently.

Marta nodded, closed her eyes, entered the crystal wind. Found the public certification boards where her profile lived and… adjusted them. So far as the government now knew she was level 6, certified to work on ESA/ROSCOSMOS space probes and (she noted ironically) smart surgical systems.

Her black rating, if that were something that could be calculated, she imagined as double digits. She opened her eyes and told the tech to check again.

Without discernible surprise the clinician nodded after reviewing the files. “We will need to replace your left ulna, something custom-milled.”

“I know. I’ve read the installation guide.”

The tech switched gears. “Left-handed use is not unheard of, but recommended installation is in the right arm.”

“Don’t wanna mess these up,” Marta waved her tattoos at the tech. Another nod.

“Finally, there will be a bulge. Your skeletal structure is small; the weapon, while compact is—“

“I’m fine with that. Just do it.”

--

Marta waited three days before peeling the bandages off. Her left arm was discolored from bruising but otherwise pain-free. The extra weight took her by surprise, but she quickly adjusted.

The gun’s embedded manual suggested a week of convalescence before test-firing, since the thing was still knitting itself into her arm, nano-filaments working themselves up to her shoulder for bracing. Using the weapon too soon, despite its recoilless nature, would tear things apart.

That suited her fine. She also had to figure out how to work the damned thing. And so far, its interface was… confusing.

The Crimson Storm Flower 2 (firmware revision 14c) was a typically Chinese name for something so deadly. Its gatling array could fire 1200 rounds per minute of tiny hyper-velocity pellets, or select from a wide array of flechette-slivers: everything from explosives to non-lethals. Marta wondered what use the EMP rounds would be; if her own systems were shielded well enough to even try those. She decided she didn’t know enough to risk it.

Consumables were surgically replaced whenever they ran low. Hopefully, never. She didn’t intend to switch careers or even use the thing except in emergencies.

But the gun’s UI pissed her off. In fact, she couldn’t find one. The armory stores and configuration stuff presented themselves immediately, but she couldn’t find how to actually, you know, pull the trigger.

Also, her dreams had been weird.

She’d grown used to strange dreams over the years as her meat-net whispered to the metal-net in her brain. That was something all IT workers dealt with nowadays. There were OTC medications to help with that.

But lately she’d felt like something – an animal, a presence – had been stalking her. Circling her defenses looking for a way in. There’d even been a few violent nightmares, replays of that night in the alley, where she’d aimed her left arm at the bastards who’d hurt her and instead of doing anything her left arm had fallen off. A cheap plastic doll arm, laying in a puddle. The beating had continued longer than it had in reality, until she awoke screaming on twisted sheets.

None of the Storm Flower manuals suggested how to fire it. She’d reviewed every file, even snuck out into the Chinese mil.net to search for more. The weapon simply didn’t exist except as catalog entries in various black clinics.

One anonymous forum post suggested that Flower was a military experiment. Something tried and discarded, its specs plundered by pirates and sold now on the streets. Or maybe it was a controlled experiment: let the criminals work out the kinks while the military observed from a distance.

Marta’s wounds healed, and the day came when she wanted to test-fire her new toy. She rented time at a gun range and stood, alone, in the tiny, dank bunker, left arm pointed helplessly at a paper target.

Fire. Launch. Activate. 

She thought every command she could think of into the weapon’s control matrix but… nothing. She’d even looked up the Chinese equivalents and tried those. Then Spanish, Russian, and even Norwegian. Maybe the weapon’s makers had intended Flower for a specific foreign market.

But no. Nothing happened. Everything felt right – her internal net insisted everything was linked, fiber running a complete path from ulna to spine to brain.

Maybe it was defective.

With a sigh she lowered her arm and dialed the clinic’s number, leaving a message requesting a follow-up visit. These things happened, but dammit she’d paid so much and the disappointment was quickly morphing into rage. Those fuckers. They’d taken her money, smiling as they sawed her arm to pieces. She envisioned the smug clinician’s reaction when she—

Snick.

Her left arm thrummed gently like a motor applying torque to her body. The odd feeling spread up into her shoulder where—

She looked down. A tiny black multi-port muzzle protruded from her arm, completely surrounded by flesh. As if somebody had jammed a gun part directly into her skin and left it there. Marta lifted her arm carefully. It felt pinned by gyros, locked on rails, moving precisely if randomly, wherever she pointed it.

In quiet astonishment, rage gone, she watched as the sliver of black metal slid back under the surface of her arm and vanished.

Snick.

Something locked home inside the bone. The thrumming stopped.

Huh. Flower liked strong emotion, it seemed. Maybe it detected adrenaline and other stress hormones. But that seemed stupid, imprecise. There had to be a way to actually, you know, control it.

--

The Midtown clinic didn’t return her messages. She walked by the place and it was empty, a realtor’s barcode in the window. Marta quelled the impulse to stop and peer into the dim storefront but the white van parked across the street dissuaded her. The vehicle looked entirely too clean, too government for her tastes. They might as well have painted Homeland Security on its side, so she walked on by.

To keep up the appearance of normalcy she stopped at a sidewalk café two doors down and sat at a table with an umbrella, van within her field of view. She ordered unsweet tea from a waiter wearing a black apron.

When her tea came she took a sip and involuntarily grimaced. Atlanta iced tea came in two varieties: sweet and unsweet. Proper ‘sweet’ tea was made with equal parts sugar and tea; it was undrinkable, something to supercharge kids with before turning them loose in a bouncy castle.

“Excuse me,” she stood, holding the disgustingly sweet beverage out to the server. “I ordered—“

Snick.

Her arm thrummed. Without looking she knew what the server saw, why he dropped his tray and ran.  It didn’t matter: she saw his leg explode in a haze of bloody shreds the microsecond Flower coughed.

One target tracked, targeted, explosive flechette selected, fired, target disabled the after-report appeared in her mind. Wow. The manuals were right: virtually no recoil. The glass of tea in her left hand hadn’t even wobbled.

Behind her she heard van doors slamming, and she turned.

Two armored Homeland troopers thundered toward her, SMGs held low. Before she processed this completely they were both down.

Two targets tracked, targeted, armor piercing selected, fired, targets disabled.

Next, the van exploded, one white door sailing over her head to clang against the restaurant’s brick facade.

Vehicle disabled, the after-log finished. She barely had time to scan the whole thing before her arm went snick and Flower shut down.  She hadn’t spilled a drop of tea; she drank it all down in one long gulp.

--

Konroy’s face was a ghost swirling in pixels. His connection was so dreadful it must’ve been bounced through a dozen proxies. From the lag Marta suspected there was at least one satellite involved.

“You did what?”

His voice was razorblades slicing chipmunks. She repeated herself.

“Read me the model number again?”

He’d reacted with amusement about her buying a gun. Her, the tree-hugging hippie cybercriminal who’d once made him take a spider outside rather than kill it. After she transmitted him Flower’s specs he’d sobered up quickly.

“Honey, that’s the blackest of black tech.”

“Do we deal in any other kind?”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Look, I can’t find a clinic that’ll talk to me about it. Can you—“

“Sorry, you’re breaking up.”

“I need a clinic that does PPS. Like, immediately.”

“Honey—“

The connection washed away in a burst of static then miraculously cleared.

“Konroy? I need—“

“I’ll send you a list of the ones I know. But you already have that, I reckon.”

She nodded, wondering if he could see her. “Surely there’s more?”

“Not exactly a growth industry, especially since the crackdown. If I knew you were gonna—“

The connection broke then, went totally blue. Returned full-screen with Homeland Security’s eagle-clutching-wires logo, which she glimpsed only for a second before slapping the call closed.

Seconds later the phone was in pieces, its battery tossed down a sewer grate, the rest of it in various bushes and dumpsters as she walked.  In annoyance she realized Flower had popped open and closed without her noticing… that told her how upset she was more than anything else.

--

Her dreams became violent. She was a gun, and the world was a rich tapestry of target reticules. Most were green (friendly) but some were not (red) and every time a red one was targeted and destroyed she orgasmed.

After these dreams she woke up exhausted, panties askew, the mattress damp.

While she and Konroy had had plenty of sex, they’d never had orgasms together.

--

One sleepless night Marta got drunk on tequila and walked up to the first white van she saw, stood outside it with arms outstretched.  After a few moments the doors slid open and she was surrounded by Homeland troopers. She tried to warn them about Flower but they were all dead before she opened her mouth.

Then of course, the van exploded.

--

Marta boosted enough capital to hire an ex-military surgeon from mainland China. She met with him in a hotel room near the airport, where he examined her arm, scanning Flower with instruments he assembled from a pair of aluminum briefcases.

“I do not recognize this weapon,” he announced finally. “But that does not mean we did not make it. Much goes on, in the, you know…”

“I know,” she sighed. “Can you get it out of me?”

He sat back, pondering. “Eventually it will run out of consumables.”

“So I gathered. But I don’t want to wait that long, it’ll take months. Until then I’m afraid to go outside.”

“You do not understand,” he blew out his cheeks. “The weapon, it has bonded with your endocrine system. You and it are one. When it runs out of ammunition it will want more. A gun without bullets is useless, and it wants to be useful.”

“Yeah, so? I’ll just ignore it. If it pops out no big deal. I’ll wear long sleeves forever.”

“I have not explained well. The gun, it will… need more ammunition. Consider it a form of addiction.”

Her stomach dropped. “Addiction? Like heroin?”

The Chinese doctor beamed at her. “Yes! Precisely so. In fact glutamate and dopamine are the—“

She found herself standing, head pounding, shouting. “Get this thing out of me, now! I don’t want—“

Snick

--

Marta eventually found a clinic in Taiwan that could service the gun. She didn’t miss Atlanta, and everyone around her spoke English anyway. Homeland Security never bother her anymore, not over here.

A network of Flower owners had sprung up around the planet about the time she’d gotten her implant. She discovered her experience was not uncommon, and within this new, strange family she found a place: boosting cash for the collective, so ammunition was never a problem.

Meditation and medication helped control incidents. The collective cheerfully displayed an old-style “44 Days Since Last Accident” cardboard sign in the main dining room with detachable numbers that incremented – or zeroed – over time.

Soon she and the others like her boosted enough capital to purchase a small island off the coast of Taiwan, and moved the clinic there. They began manufacturing Flowers and even improving the design. Children were born and fitted with their own guns as soon as their bones stopped growing, usually in their late teens.

The Chinese project responsible for the creation of the weapon had contacted them a few times, threatened a few times, finally backed off when they were invited to come get their guns back if they could. They tried once, and the score was 27 dead Chinese commandos to zero collective members.

It was just prior to that engagement that Marta had her second, right-arm Flower installed, damn the tattoos.

Fifteen years after that, Marta returned to Atlanta.

--

Amazingly, the gaming bar where she’d received her beat-down still existed. She entered the place through the alley door they’d dragged her through, walked past uncaring workers in the kitchen and into the smoke-filled main room.

She recognized none of the faces, did not expect to. Wasn’t even sure if this place still hosted the gang who’d hired her forty years ago, or if they even existed. She hadn’t bothered to check.

Marta stood in the center of swirling chaos, of pinging slot machines, of laughing gamers, of pounding late 20th century dubstep, commandeered the PA system via the crystal wind and pitched her voice to be heard over all. Everything crashed to a halt.

“Somebody piss me off. I dare you.”

Many eyes were on her when Marta raised her arms, letting loose black sleeves fall. She stood like that, arms upheld as goal posts, eyes closed.

It took a few moments, but eventually she got her wish.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Dead Man Walking (5/?)

It’s been 84 years! Enjoy nonetheless.

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: T, eventually E.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [AO3]

—

Dead Man Walking

Five

Lacey was alone in the living room with Sutherland. Mrs de Ville had vanished off somewhere and Carrie was outside talking to Ursula about the best way to get into Chequers without being questioned, trying to convince the taxi driver that everything was perfectly above board, honest. 

Before, when it had just been her and Sutherland in the morgue, it hadn’t been anywhere near as awkward as it was now. Before, there had been much more urgency, and Sutherland had been a lot groggier from having just died and come back to life, and Lacey had had a lot more to focus on than the fact she was alone with the Prime Minister.

Now that she didn’t have to worry about someone coming along and finding them and she didn’t have to worry about keeping him safe from a bunch of civil servants who were probably the ones to kill him in the first place, things were much more awkward. For some reason, she kept replaying the moment she’d run into the morgue in her mind, and she could barely string more than two thoughts together before something in her brain would helpfully remind her that she’d seen the Prime Minister naked and that he did have a rather nice arse. 

To be honest, the rest of him wasn’t too bad either. He’d look better if he weren’t quite so stressed, but Lacey had always had a bit of a soft spot for silver foxes. She might not agree with his party line, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t find the man himself objectively attractive. 

The silence in the living room stretched on, and Lacey wondered what she ought to say to fill it, rather than just sitting here staring at the man until someone came to rescue them from this void. 

Thankfully, Sutherland spoke first. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t think that I really had the chance to express my gratitude back when we were in the hospital before, everything was a bit…”

“Frantic?” Lacey suggested. 

“Yes.” Sutherland sighed. “I do really appreciate all your help. I think that there are quite a few people in your position who would have been quite happy to leave me to my fate. Or finish the job, you know.”

Lacey snorted. “Oh, believe me, I’ve been tempted over the last couple of years, and you and I are still going to have a discussion about student loan forgiveness at some point. But, ultimately, I’m a decent human being and I like to believe that you are too. And, you know, murder is bad, even if it does happen to people you don’t like.” She paused. “Well, it’s not that I don’t like you.” Good grief, why was she trying to justify herself? She’d saved the man’s life and snuck him out of the hospital; she didn’t need to be friends with him so why was she trying to ingratiate herself? “More that I don’t like your policies and the way your party thinks.”

“Fair enough.” Sutherland drained his coffee and made a face. “You’re right, maybe this experience has served to put me off coffee a bit.”

Lacey laughed. “I told you so. You know, when I was growing up, I always thought that politics was the most boring thing ever and I couldn’t believe that anyone would want to be Prime Minister. Now it’s got a lot more exciting. Although, that said, I still can’t believe that anyone would want to be Prime Minister when the rate of assassination just went up by a hundred per cent.”

“It would only have gone up by a hundred per cent if they had actually succeeded,” Sutherland pointed out.

“According to everyone who isn’t us, they did succeed.” Lacey shrugged. “Face it, you’re in a dangerous line of work. Not as dangerous as being the American president though. We’ve still got a while to go before we catch them up in terms of assassinated premiers.”

She paused, thinking deeply into her long-perceived notions of politics and politicians. Since she had one here, the top dog no less, she might as well get a few things off her chest. “Why did you want to become Prime Minister anyway?”

Sutherland sighed. “Because I thought that I could change the country and make people’s lives better. It’s only once you get into government that you realise just how hard that is. Power is always limited, and so it should be – think what would happen if there were no restraints in place.”

Lacey nodded. “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

“Exactly. It’s something that you’re all too aware of when you get to be in my position.”

“Ever been tempted?”

“What?”

“Ever been tempted to use your power for evil? I mean, come on, we’re slap bang in the middle of an excellent villain origin story here. Poisoned and left for dead by the people you trusted…”

Sutherland scoffed. “I wouldn’t trust Sir Albert as far as I could throw him.”

“You’re ruining my narrative here!” Lacey sighed. “Why do I bother? I should have left you in the morgue.”

She didn’t mean it, and the worst thing was that she knew Sutherland knew she didn’t mean it as well. He gave a little chuckle, but it came out more tired than anything, turning into a yawn that he tried and failed to mask.

It served to remind Lacey of how late it was – well, how early now, given that it was long past midnight – and that she too was running on empty. She wondered how long this limbo was going to last. She had done her part, so to speak, delivering the Prime Minister into safe hands, and yet here she was still, for some reason unwilling to go home and consider her job done.

She tried to justify it to herself by saying that Carrie couldn’t possibly allow her to go home now and possibly ruin the secret of Sutherland’s survival, but she knew deep down that she still felt the same sense of responsibility towards him that had driven her to get him out of the hospital in the first place. It was the same acute sense of justice that had fuelled her in her current career path – the need to see victims vindicated and the perpetrators of the crimes against them punished.

“I have to say, although I’ve not met many forensic scientists in my time, you’re not at all how I imagined one would be,” Sutherland said presently, startling Lacey out of her train of thought. Spooky that he should mention it just as she was pondering it herself.

“Well, it’s not all the glamour of CSI,” she said. “Not that CSI is all that glamorous most of the time. Most of it’s sitting in laboratories looking through microscopes. And not all forensic scientists are nerds in lab coats like procedurals would have you believe. Some of us ride mopeds and rescue politicians in our spare time.”

She leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair and wishing it were possible for her to teleport out of the situation, get a few hours’ sleep in her own bed, then blink back in as if nothing had happened and continue the conversation. She didn’t want to leave Sutherland and Carrie to fend for themselves against whatever internal workings had brought them to this, but at the same time, she wasn’t really sure what she, Ursula and Mrs de Ville could do to help them.

She was saved from any further awkwardness by the entry of the lattermost into the room again.

“I’ve made up the spare beds,” she said, completely matter of fact. “I for one have been completely exhausted by this ordeal and if my errant daughter doesn’t come back in here soon I shall go to bed without saying goodnight or getting the latest in the plan off her.” She paused. “Although, that said, if Ursula wants to stay over as well, then people will have to start bunking up.”

Her gaze travelled from Sutherland to Lacey and back again, giving a sage nod before she disappeared out of the room.

Lacey leapt out of her seat, following the older woman out, not for any reason other than to get away from Sutherland’s physical presence whilst she also had the mental image of bunking up with him. She should not be finding the Prime Minister, of all people, this attractive. She definitely should not be thinking about sleeping with him. She absolutely should not be thinking about sleeping with him when he’d been functionally dead just a few hours ago. The poor man would need rest and recuperation, not riding into the mattress.

Although, given his current levels of stress, perhaps riding him into the mattress would provide the relaxation that he needed.

She stepped out into the driveway, where Carrie and Ursula were still very confidential beside the taxi. Carrie noticed her.

“Are you leaving us, darling?” she asked. “I was going to ask if you wanted to participate in the great expedition.”

Lacey shook her head. “No, no. I’m still here. I’m in this deep already, I might as well stick it out to the end.”

Ursula nodded. “That’s the principle I’m working on too. Anyway, we’re off to Chequers and praying we don’t get killed. Are you coming?”

“No, I don’t think so. Someone’s got to stay here and keep an eye on Sutherland. We don’t want anyone coming and finishing the job, and no offence to your mum, but I think she might need back up.”

“No offence taken. I’d best let her know that we’re going. Actually, can you do that, darling? If I tell her then she’ll want to come too, and whilst I just about managed to keep her reigned in at the hospital, I don’t trust her in the vicinity of government buildings. Wish us luck! We’re going to need it!” She flung herself into the back of the taxi and waved out of the window.

“We’re going to need more than luck,” Ursula muttered as she got into the driver’s seat. “We’re going to need a bloody miracle.”

The taxi backed out of the driveway just as the sun was beginning to come up, and Lacey felt the events of the day beginning to weigh heavy on her shoulders. All she really wanted now was a nap, but she had thrown her lot in with Carrie and Sutherland for better or worse.

Just as she was turning to go back inside and ponder her next steps, her phone buzzed with the arrival of another message. It was from her father again, and she remembered that she had never responded to his first frantic question of if she had stolen the Prime Minister.

Where are you? Is everything all right?

Lacey felt a sharp pang of guilt that her dad was so worried about her. Although she didn’t want to tell him the full extent of what was going on, she knew that she had to let him know that she was safe. Before she could reply, another message arrived.

Is you-know-who alive?

She snorted, immediately reminded of Harry Potter, and typed out a quick response. She loved the fact that he was using a strange little kind of code, but then again, she wouldn’t put it past the government to be tapping their phones whilst all this upheaval was going on and the Civil Service were desperately trying to find the Prime Minister’s corpse.

Yes, y-k-w is alive. I am safe and well and hiding out with him. Being taken care of by an old lady with a taste for gin and cigarette holders. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Well. Later today.

She paused before sending and added: I’ll call you at midday.

Hopefully by then, she’d have more of a plan, and if something did go terribly wrong and she ended up imprisoned in a basement at Chequers, or, in a terrible worst case scenario, in a morgue herself, then her dad would know to send out a search party if she didn’t check in.

His response came a moment later.

Stay safe, Lace. Keep y-k-w safe too.

She smiled and stepped back into the house, closing the door on the world outside and hoping that whatever Carrie and Ursula got up to at Chequers, they would be both successful and quick about it, so that her life could continue back on the nice and boring course that it had been taking before.

Lacey already knew, however, that it would likely never be quite the same again.