#a midsummer celebration gone weird

[omeem]

[tastywormfood]

Im gonna talk a little about the new eps while i watch them, so spoiler warning!

The ring master Brisk was a weird one to start out with... Its not that its a bad eps, but its just so random??? I feel like over the last 3 season there has been meaning to the last and first eps of the seasons.

S 1 eps 13. Moomin has his midwinter adventure.

S 2 eps 1. Its spring and he's still recovering from his adventure, feeling much more confident in himself and telling anyone who will listen.

S 2 eps 14. The moomin family is gone, and ppl have to deal with the moomin shaped hole in their heart. Especially Snufkin.

S 3 eps 1. Moomin Mama and Moomin papa return.

S 3 eps 13. They have to save the sun from the hob goblin, so moominvalley can celebrate midsummer. and it literally ends with the most precious snufmin moment.

S 4 eps 1. The moomin family joins a cirkus, and moomintroll isnt even really in it?

I just feel like the other eps from the last eps of the season to the first eps of the season after, always had something that tied them together! This just feels like a mid season eps, not a first eps... Also the pacing was a bit weird.

I also dont understand why they keep bringing Brisk back, nobody wants him.

[mythicamagic]

Unorthodox: a Sesskag oneshot

Summary: Kagome is pleasantly surprised to receive a present from Sesshoumaru for White Day... until she glimpses the contents inside her gift box.

AN: Written for the Sesskag 2021 Big Bang event on tumblr! @chierafied​ 

I was paired with @milomai-art​ and here’s their lovely artwork: https://milomai-art.tumblr.com/post/648766972634513408/unorthodox-mythicamagic-inuyasha-a-feudal

Rated K+

Words: 3,000

You can read it on Ao3, Dokuga or fanfiction.net. 

Unorthodox

Valentine's day had come and gone, with a notable difference this year for Kagome compared with the last lonely three;

Her return to the Sengoku Jidai.

To celebrate reuniting with her beloved friends, she'd gone all out. Everyone received gifts, right down to Myoga and Jaken; no one had been excluded.

For all her efforts, however, she expected nothing in return. Though she'd explained the concept to the Inutachi, Sango and Miroku were much too busy looking after their children to keep track of dates, Shippo was often away at Kitsune school and Inuyasha had been absent as of late. Besides that, since their relationship had ended, the subject of Valentine's had become an awkward one. She'd had to stress the platonic intent behind her gift to him.

Therefore, Kagome had pretty much forgotten all about White Day by the time it rolled around.

Exiting Kaede's hut with a tub of water in her arms, intending to give the old miko's horse a good scrub down, she dug in her heels the second exquisite silks, armour and a fur pelt registered- having blinked into existence before her. Kagome gaped, swaying. Water sloshed, some spilling to their feet.

"Uh hi," looking up at grave, handsome features, she arched a brow. Sesshoumaru stared at her fervently. "Nice to see you, Sesshoumaru," adjusting her grip, Kagome sidestepped him and flashed a warm smile, used to his minimalistic approach to conversation by now. "Do you need something? Inuyasha isn't here. I think he's helping the next village over repair a-"

"I am not here for him."

Kagome noted his succinct tone, sounding more defensive than usual. Setting down the wooden tub carefully, she straightened, tilting her head. "Then what are you here for?"

"White Day."

"White... ah!" Kagome gasped, "that's right! How did you know about that?" she blinked, noticing he looked extra grumpy today. His jaw ticked, golden eyes narrow. Slowly, the miko brightened. "No way. Did you... get me something?" she breathed, strangely touched.

Of all people, Sesshoumaru had remembered? Was she dreaming?

A hand thrust out stiffly towards her, balancing a small box upon his palm.

Accepting it with thanks, heat touched her cheeks. Weird. She really shouldn't be indulging this- or feeling kind of happy. It didn't mean anything to be pleased, right? Was she even allowed to feel warm and fuzzy towards her ex's brother?

Opening the lid, Kagome tried to squash her excitement- peering down. Slowly, she reached in, retrieving a silky soft thing.

It appeared to be made of something long, silver and fine, the material woven into a pretty design. A bracelet of silk, if she could hazard a guess.

"Um, thank you," Kagome raised her gaze. "What's it made of, out of curiosity? It's very soft."

Sesshoumaru appeared pleased, preening a little. "Only the finest material."

"Really?" she stroked it. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble on my account."

He scoffed, midsummer gaze smiling slightly as his tone became haughty and prideful, "it was no trouble to use this one's own hair."

Kagome dropped the bracelet back into the box. "Whut?"

Lithe fingers combed indulgently into his fall of lustrous silver hair, "you need not be alarmed. The strands grew back quickly."

That isn't what's alarming me, Kagome silently screamed. Now that she was paying attention though, the pale bracelet really did resemble the demon lord's long flowing locks.

Her hand recoiled a little from the box. "W-well, um... thank you very much," Kagome said thinly. "It's a very thoughtful gift. Truly."

Sesshoumaru's keen, piercing eyes roved over her strained features, voice deepening. "If you do not wish to accept it-"

"N-no, I do! I'll wear it right now!" Kagome grabbed it madly, fiddling with the thing while repressing a shudder. She tried and failed to secure the clasp, stiffening when large hands closed over her hand.

The demon lord leaned forward- that same hair currently being secured around her wrist falling free from behind a pointed ear. Silver strands draped down like a gossamer curtain, tickling her flushed, sensitive skin.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, expression unreadable.

Shifting her wrist, Kagome observed the threads of hair wrapped around it. His bracelet felt odd, the concept totally foreign. However, she could feel how much the gesture meant to him. She didn't fear offending him because of his dark temper- more because she cared about his feelings and wanted to nurture any hint of a bond between them.

"Thank you," Kagome said. "No one else brought me anything today, so I'm...I'm grateful."

Even if it was the weirdest thing she'd ever received. A bracelet made of hair wasn't exactly traditional.

Straightening, Sesshoumaru's lips thinned as his eyes flickered with confusion.

Kagome blinked, wondering what else he'd envisioned her saying.

"Hn," inclining his head regally, he pivoted sharply and began stalking away quickly, giving a swift kill to the conversation.

---

Without a frame of reference for how long he desired her to wear it, Kagome tugged her sleeve down to hide the bracelet from curious eyes during the next few days. She tried to ignore the sensation of hair continually brushing her skin.

"I wonder if it means something important," Kagome examined it while sprawled out upon a grassy hill, taking a break from her miko duties Kaede had started dishing out ever since her return.

Sesshoumaru had seemed extremely serious while giving it to her. Then again, the gift could've meant nothing. Maybe his hair was just THAT valuable in the Daiyoukai's opinion. She snorted, twisting her wrist and watching silver threads catch on sunlight, making it shine white. "His ego is big enough. I'd believe it. Heh, maybe he'd also give me one of his eyelashes, or a fingernail or..."

Why was Sesshoumaru heading towards her?

Sitting up and fussing absentmindedly with her hair- removing a few stray leaves- Kagome felt heat flood her face.

Okay, no- she shook herself, putting a firm lid over the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Too strange. Enough of that.

The Daiyoukai stopped a few feet away, expression detached. Kagome knew by now to ignore it in favour of looking into his eyes. They were intent and unblinking today, hinting at his seriousness.

"Hi," she said, patting a spot next to her. "It's rare for you to visit the village again during the same week. What's up?"

Sesshoumaru cocked his head to the side at her odd term. Kagome bit her lip, finding it endearing. Her attention strayed, noticing yet another box sitting innocently upon his hand.

She paled. Oh no.

Gracefully sweeping himself down onto one knee- he thrust the new box out towards her, giving Kagome a dizzying sense of Déjà vu.

I was joking about the fingernails. Please be something normal. Please.

Accepting it gingerly, blue eyes flicked up towards him. "White day is over, you know."

"This one is aware."

"So...why the new gift?"

Sesshoumaru pretended to be interested in the gentle bubbling stream not too far away. "Because it pleases me to give it to you."

He was so difficult to figure out. Not wanting to squash his newfound sense of generosity, Kagome carefully removed the lid.

The contents did not look promising.

Trying not to jump to conclusions, she reached in and removed the long necklace. A single solitary tooth hung from the chord.

"Ah," Kagome squinted. "Open your mouth a sec."

Sesshoumaru's lips parted wordlessly, mouth opening wider to reveal a gap where one of his sharp canines used to be.

"This...is yours?" she asked weakly.

Sesshoumaru closed his mouth and nodded primly. "It will serve you well, should you have need of it."

In what way would I ever have need of a tooth? a wrinkle marred her brow as she considered it, coming to a small realisation. "To make a sword from?"

"Hn."

Well, that explained a small piece of the puzzle. In a very 'Sesshoumaru' way- it almost seemed a little sweet, practical even.

However, this did not help assuage her naturally squeamish reaction while looking at the freshly plucked tooth.

"Thanks," she said lamely. "I-I'm sure it'll be very useful if I visit Totosai in the future."

Her answer didn't seem to be what he was looking for. Sesshoumaru's gaze flitted from her to the dangling fang. "Females... prefer jewels, make-up or clothing, I suppose."

Kagome scratched her cheek, "depends on the lady- but you really don't have to worry, Sesshoumaru," laying a hand over pale knuckles resting upon his knee, she gave a squeeze. "I'm touched you're being so thoughtful. There's no need to give me anything else though, I have more than enough."

His nostrils flared, jaw setting stubbornly. He drew himself up to stand, "you are too modest."

Feeling thoroughly discombobulated, Kagome could only watch as he pivoted with all the grace of a dainty dancer, stalking away with billowing sleeves.

---

For two weeks, Sesshoumaru continued visiting the village at random intervals. His flair for turning up at the most unexpected times made it difficult for Kagome to anticipate his visits. Sometimes he'd arrive bright and early, others- nearing nightfall. Occasionally he'd visit Rin, but their interactions seemed distracted. Rin would whisper fiercely to him while gesturing in Kagome's direction, but he'd ultimately leave without speaking a word to the miko.

It was odd, confusing. She'd used to think of Sesshoumaru as a fairly straightforward demon. As of late, he'd been downright unpredictable and... flakey. She kind of missed their previous easy interactions when she'd pick herbs and prattle on while he occasionally offered a word or two. His silence had felt comfortable rather than awkward.

I don't know how to get that back, Kagome thought sadly.

A chilly wind passed by, breeze rushing around her exposed neck. Adjusting her miko garb, she sneezed, shivering a little. Autumn would soon be on its way.

The heat of an intense stare sent a new chill down her spine. Kagome turned, sensing it- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing at her intently.

Was it her imagination, or did he seem absurdly pleased? As though struck by a revelation.

As was typical behaviour for him, the demon lord began walking away without a word.

---

Trudging back from training in the woods, Kagome shouldered her bow while walking around a thick tree- only to quickly stop, almost bumping straight into polished armour.

Sesshoumaru stood before her, holding another box. This time it was larger, more of a rectangular shape.

"M-more?" Kagome squeaked. Her heart thundered. It felt like so long since they'd last spoken.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head gravely, "hn."

Biting her lip and somewhat dreading what cast-off part of him could be inside this time, Kagome grasped the lid and removed it- only to slam it abruptly back down.

"What… what is that?" she asked thinly.

Sesshoumaru's lashes fell shut and slid open in an unruffled blink.

"My fur."

I thought as much.

Kagome removed the lid with trepidation once more, lifting out the lush, soft coat. Even while her hands sank into the cloud-like material, blue eyes remained wide with distress.

Sesshoumaru seemed to guess her line of thinking. "It is discarded fur that I have shed, not cleaved off. Do not worry."

"O-okay," she said thinly. It's still weird though. Too weird. Imagine if I'd made a coat of shed skin.

It was so odd that Kagome felt a line needed to be drawn, placing it back into the box and numbly accepting it from him. "Sesshoumaru… I have to put my foot down now. I appreciate your gifts but I can't accept any more."

He stiffened, the burning embers in his eyes freezing into glassy orbs.

Kagome rushed to explain, "it's very sweet of you, and I appreciate the thought. I'm just not, uh…sure they're suited for a human. Besides, you seem to be worrying about what to get me instead of talking to me. I'd rather we just spoke like old times instead of this awkwardness."

"I see," he said stiffly.

She took a step forward, eyes widening when he took one back and turned. "This one did not intend to give you things deemed inappropriate and unwelcome. Farewell."

"Wait-!"

Too late, Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hand.

Kagome grit her teeth, sighing and balancing the box on one hand. Damn it.

Slowly, Kagome lowered the box onto a tree stump and gingerly lifted the coat. It felt lush and divine, her hands disappearing within the sheer volume of fur. Sliding her arms into the sleeves and putting it on, Kagome wrapped it around herself, feeling like she were enclosed in a giant fluffy cloud. His static youki brushed her skin intimately, fanning out from the strands.

It was big. It was a little ridiculous. It was wonderful.

Kagome groaned, burying her face in her hands. Sure, the idea of him collecting his shed fur to sew into a coat was strange by human standards, but actually wearing the coat, she now understood his simplistic intent.

He'd just wanted her to be warm.

"You're such a weirdo," she grumbled, blushing and dipping her nose into the fur. It smelled like him; wild forests, with the hint of refined smoke from a pipe.

Maybe she was weird too.

---

He was absent for an entire month.

Sesshoumaru figured it would help ease the sting of rejection. The second he caught Kagome's fragrance, however, it was like an old wound had been ripped open again.

His lips thinned, firmly keeping all emotion locked tight behind a placid mask as he visited Rin.

Chatting with the girl allowed him to soothe his stung ego for a while, distracted by Rin's news about the village and her training. Occasionally she would mention the miko and his chest would tighten again. How pathetic of him.

Once his cup lay empty and Rin mentioned the need to leave in order to assist the older miko, Sesshoumaru took his leave.

Stepping foot outside Kaede's hut, however, he froze.

Kagome stiffened before him, swathed in furs- his furs- he dimly noted.

More than that, lithe fingers curled around the fang resting at her collarbone. The silver bracelet of his hair caught the light before disappearing beneath the length of her sleeve.

Kagome's cheeks heated, and she thrust out a box, letting it rest on her palm.

"I asked around," she muttered. "Inuyasha was clueless, and Shippo kept laughing whenever I tried to ask him what was going on. Luckily Myoga happened to stop by," blue eyes pinned him in place. "You could've told me what all the gifts meant instead of leaving me in the dark."

Sesshoumaru did not accept the box just yet. "I thought my intentions were achingly clear."

Embarrassingly so, for a proud demon.

"Not for humans!" she huffed, lowering her hands a little. "I was confused the whole time! How was I supposed to know that you were giving me a betrothal bracelet, or that the fang was for any half-demon children I might have when they need a sword? I kind of figured out the coat, but I didn't know it represented your intentions to provide for me."

Sesshoumaru stared. Oh. Perhaps he should've listened to Rin about courting the miko after all.

Cheeks scarlet, Kagome sighed, lifting the lid of her box off and removing something from inside.

"May I?"

Sesshoumaru nodded dazedly, golden eyes widening. His entire being thrummed, heart picking up speed.

Shifting closer, Kagome pushed some dark locks behind her ear, the length slightly shorter than usual. Sliding a black bracket around his striped wrist, Kagome swallowed. Her hair had been woven into a band much like his, though nowhere near as intricate.

The demon stared at it, fixated. Baser instincts purred.

Molten gold eyes slowly raised to pin her with a disarmingly reverent look. He spoke no words of poetry, no love or longing, but it was there, he hoped. Abundantly clear. Kagome seemed to recognise it for what it was now.

She smiled a little, hugging her arms and scuffing her foot. "Don't get the wrong idea; I'm not saying I'll jump into marriage with you, but it turns out I'm kind of interested in dating you. Really... interested," Kagome forced out, obviously embarrassed but soldiering on. "If it's okay, we could...do that," she finished lamely.

Sesshoumaru took a step forward, invading her personal space. She blushed exactly the way he'd hoped she would, babbling. "So the uh- think of the bracelet as a dating bracelet! Maybe down the line it could...it could become an engagement thing," she murmured, voice dimming in the wake of his proximity.

"Hn," honeyed eyes smiled, careful claws unfurling to find her chin. "That would be pleasing," he uttered in a faint rumble, tipping his head down. "I accept."

Satisfaction rolled through him fiercely as she tilted her head just so- lips meeting and brushing feather-light against his. Emboldened, Kagome's hands found the collar of his hankimono just as he took her by the waist as though entering a dance, tightening.

Sesshoumaru let his eyes flutter shut, inhaling sharply through his nose. He could smell her so bright and clear—the sweetness of tangerines, faint, exotic soaps—and her mouth so warm. Kagome kissed him, firmer, hand finding his hair- fingers curling. His breath began to roughen the longer their kisses went on. His heart chanted the truth of it all- 'yours.'

If the foolish woman wanted him, he'd already given himself to her. The ticklish brush of her hair claiming his wrist made him smirk against her mouth, glimpsing his own band of white around hers and revelling in a plume of possessive pride.

Perhaps it was unorthodox by her standards, but they were not exactly normal themselves. And so, Sesshoumaru drowned himself in the curious, raw newness of the strange miko, surrendering to all the oddities that would likely follow during their strange courtship.

End

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 7 (END) | rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe gives you the fairy tale night he promised

warnings: SMUT (unprotected), cursing, alcohol use

word count: 4k

a/n: so...here it is. the final part. i can’t believe i actually finished a series. thank you for all the support, it means so much to me!! i am really proud of this whole series and seeing y’all validate me makes me cry. please enjoy :) and thank you.

series masterlist

Walking into Midsummers was one of the most nerve-racking things you had ever done. The few times you’d come before, you were working. Never had you excepted to walk in as a guest, never mind on the arm of Rafe Cameron. But now you were here, and you in a state of pure bliss. Most eyes were on you, but you hardly even noticed as you giggled like a school girl. Rafe’s hand was in yours, fingers interlaced as he pulled you through the party, glancing at you every few moment with a dopey smile.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he takes a flute of champagne. He hands it to you before grabbing one for himself.

“I believe this was the first part of my master plan,” He says, tipping his glass towards you. You clink yours against it with a smile before you both down it in one go.

“Expensive champagne, check,” you giggle, the sparkling liquid already making you feel just as bubbly. Rafe’s hand found it’s place on your hip, holding you close as you surveyed the party. Another waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and you each grabbed one, taking your time to savor it.

Rafe was still in a state of disbelief. Just a couple of hours ago he had been ready to drink himself into a coma. Now he had you at his side, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, and he felt on top of the world. Squeezing you against his side, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You look so beautiful tonight.”

Your cheeks heat up as you turn to meet his eyes. You’re able to give him the briefest of kisses before you are interrupted.

“This is so weird.”

The smiles drop from your faces as your faced with John B, Kie, and Sarah. Trying to separate from Rafe, his arm tightens around your waist as he give his sister and her friends a tight smile.

“And?” He says, his tone vaguely threatening. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin this night.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rafe, you should be thanking me,” Sarah says with a smirk. “I created this,” she motions to you, “and she is perfect. Don’t ruin it!”

Rafe looks down at you, a small smile returning to his face.

“I won’t.”

“Seriously, dude, JJ already wants to kick your ass. Don’t give him a reason,” Kie chimes in. Rafe scoffs and shakes his head.

“I don’t plan on it! Now fuck off, I’m trying to show my girl a good time.”

John B and Kie pretend to gag as they walk off before shooting you a genuine smile. You sighed when they were out of ear shot, feeling as if a great weight was suddenly off your chest.

Bouncing in front of Rafe, you give him a wide smile as you move your body in a victory dance.

“That went so well!”

You twist and shimmy, reaching your hands out towards him, urging him to join you. How could he resist your charm? Especially when your dancing is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. He takes your hands and pulls your forward, making you wrap your arms around his neck while he wraps his own around your waist.

“Did you not hear the part where they threatened to sick your guard dog on me?” Rafe scoffed.

“Yes, and I agree with them. You break my heart again I will send him after you. Pope too. He may not seem scary, but he’s got some fire in there.”

Rafe’s smile falter slightly when you mention him breaking your heart. Though he quickly covers it up, you notice the crack in his armor. Pulling him in for a kiss, you try to soothe his mind by swiping your thumb across his temple. You wished you could just reach in and pull every bad thought from his brain and throw them in the ocean. He had hurt you, this is true, but you would never in your life wish an ounce of pain onto him. The wounds on each of your hearts were still healing, and it would take time. But tonight, you just wanted to be happy. You wanted both of you to be happy.

“Will you dance with me?” You whisper against his lips.

“Already promised I would,” He replies, pulling away to lead you to the dance floor. He moves you closer to the edge of the group of dancers. Close to the beach, the pair of you are covered in slight shadow, slightly secluded from the party passing around you.

You never thought you could miss another persons touch this much. The past few days without Rafe, you had found yourself craving the feeling of him against you. From the way he was acting tonight, you were certain he felt the same. His hand had yet to leave your body since you met him outside. His hand was always holding your own, gripping your hip as he wraps his arm around you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you. Right now, his hands found a home on your lower back, holding you close as you sway to the music. You dance through a few songs, basking in each other’s love, before Rafe speaks.

“You are so…exquisite,” He says. The look in his eyes contains so much love you almost drown in it.

“Are we playing scrabble? That was easily a 20 point word, got an ‘x’ and a ‘q’ in there.”

“How about a few more words? You are…” He places a kiss on your cheek, “alluring.”

A kiss on the other cheek. “Stunning.”

On your jaw. “Ravishing.”

Your neck. “Heavenly.”

Your collarbone. “And drop dead sexy.”

His lips return to yours. This kiss is more passionate and needy than any of the others earlier that night. The shock and excitement of being back together again has worn off, and now there is just a deep need and urgency to be as close as possible. He starts to trail kisses across your jaw and down your neck, when you are once again interrupted. Someone clears their throat behind Rafe.

Rafe is suddenly ramrod straight, back stiff as he recognizes the disappointed aura radiating from his father. You took his hand as he turned, squeezing it to let him know you are there.

“So, this is her? The mysterious girl? Were you planning on introducing me at any point?” Ward Cameron questions, arms crossed at his chest. Rafe clears his throat, grip tightening on your hand.

“Um, dad, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

“Right, one of Sarah’s Pogue friends. We’ve met before, I believe?”

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to see you again,” You say, plastering on a smile. After everything Rafe told you about the man, you wanted nothing more than to give him a piece of your mind, maybe even knock his stupid teeth out. But you restrained yourself, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your night. Just try to be more modest, Rafe, please?” He starts to turn away, but pauses to say, “Congratulations. You seem very happy.”

The stiffness rushes out of Rafe, his hand nearly goes limp in your own.

“I think that’s the nicest things he’s ever said to me.”

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you tug on his arm.

“Then let’s celebrate! More champagne!”

You find another waiter and grab two glasses, the two of you downing them in only a few sips.

The night passed like a dream. You and Rafe became lost in each other, in the pure bliss and love that you radiated. You danced and laughed and drank and ate and held onto each other for dear life. The bubble you had started your relationship in was gone, allowing anyone to gaze in on you. You were quick to realize your worries weren’t valid. Sure, people were looking at you, but you could handle a few strange looks and whispered comments if it meant you got to be with Rafe like this all the time.

You ran into the Pogues a few times during the night, including JJ and Pope, who were both working for Heyward. The tension between the two Pogues and Rafe had been thick. A lot of threatening glances and passive aggressive comments were shared. The three boys were about two seconds from whipping their dicks out and measuring them before you pulled Rafe away, rolling your eyes at the testosterone in the air.

It was easier with Topper and Kelce. The moment you had seen Kelce, you pulled him into a bone crushing hug, thanking him profusely. Rafe almost had to pry you off Kelce, trying his best to hide his obvious jealousy. Topper, on the other hardly said hello. You didn’t mind, and Kelce made up for it by practically saving your relationship.

Once Rafe finally forced you to say good bye to his best friends, you complained to him about the inherent misogyny you had experienced that night. A speech spurred on by the liquid stars moving inside you.

“The fact that I could hug your best friend and you and my best friends want to rip each other’s throats out is ridiculous. And do you know who’s fault it is? You fucking men. Getting all protective and territorial over me. Why don’t you go pee in a bush or something and let me handle myself.”

Rafe chuckled at you.

“You’re right, angel, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you better be,” You replied with a tipsy smirk. Rafe laughed louder at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging your back against his chest. He peppered kisses down your neck, the softest touches that tickled and made you giggle.

Midsummers was starting to wind down. The older guests and people with children at home  were the first to leave, and everyone else began to trickle out after. The party was coming to a close. Staff were starting to clean up around the more drunken patrons. The dance floor, to the center of which Rafe pulled you, was practically empty. He made you stand in the middle, giving you a kiss and running over to the stage where a band had stood only an hour before. Now there was just a speaker playing a playlist someone hit shuffle on.

You watched Rafe fiddle with something, when the opening beats of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac floated from the speakers. He jogged back over to you, a grin on his face as he takes your hand. Pulling you close, he keeps his one hand clasped in yours while the other rests on your hip. Your hand rests on his shoulder, slowly moving to play with the hairs at the base of his neck. He begins to sway you in slow circles, your head resting against his shoulder. You hum along to the music for a few bars before sighing.

“This is a sad song, you know.”

“I mean, the words might be sad, but it doesn’t make me sad at all. Because all I can think about when I hear this song is you.” You grin into his chest.

You’re silent for the rest of the song. Despite the long night and the exhaustion in your bones, neither of you wants this night to end. Your minds are wide awake, taking in every second.

You and Rafe continue swaying as the music fades out. He leans down to place a kiss below your ear before whispering.

“Did you happen to receive my other gift?”

You smirk up at him, your eyes suddenly clouded with lust.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Eyes darkening, Rafe licks his lips and pulls you away from the nearly empty party, down towards the beach. You’re forced to pull your shoes off as Rafe leads you down the sand. Eventually, you reach a patch of trees that create a small, secluded area on the beach. There is a few chairs and towels hanging around, a box off to the side, signs of life littered across the small stretch. Rafe brings towards the back. He grabs a large blanket from the box and spreads it out before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He begins to place open mouth kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin in some places making you gasp.

“What is this place?” You question.

“A Kook hangout we made a few years ago. Don’t worry, no one comes here this late,” He reassures you before continuing his assault on your neck. One hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling it to give himself better access to you. The other hand slides down your side, grabbing at the skirt of your dress and bunching it up, revealing your bare thigh to the open air. You gasp at the contrast of the cool hair and his warm hand as it trails up to the waistband of your lacy underwear. His finger ghosts across your slit over the fabric, making you whimper. He suddenly pulls away from you and shoves you gently forward.

You turn to face him and feel your core ache at the look he’s giving you. A cocky smirk graces his lips while his eyes are burning with hunger and lust.

“Strip,” He commands. You do as he says, never breaking eye contact as you tug at the dress, letting it pool at your feet.

Rafe let’s out a fuck under his breath as he takes you in. Clad in the lingerie he had bought for you, this image was one he had been dreaming of since he purchased the fabric. It’s white, just like your dress, adding to the already heavenly glow the moonlight casts on you.You go to remove the crown of white daisies on your head but he stops you.

“Don’t. You look beautiful in it.”

Your cheeks heat up as you slowly lower your hands down to your sides. You feel yourself melting under his gaze.  He licks his lips before he dives in, holding your face between his hands as he crashes his mouth to yours. The kiss is hungry, and you prepare yourself to be absolutely devoured by the man in front of you. Not that you minded.

Fingers dance down your sides and into he waistband of your underwear. The teasing touch of before is gone as he presses against your clit, making you scream in shock and pleasure. He holds the pressure, starting to move his fingers in slow circles. Your eyes roll back, so much pleasure hitting all at once like a tidal wave. Rafe’s other and holds the back of you neck, pulling you away from the bruising kiss.

“I’m going to make you cum some many times tonight, you won’t be able to walk for a week. Are you ready, angel?”

You give a weak nod and a whimper, only to whine when he moves all touch. His hands move instead to grip your ass, giving one cheek an agonizing slap.

“I need words.” He gives another slap to end his statement.

“Yes, Rafe. I’m ready. I want you.”

A primal grin spreads across his face. He pushes your shoulder, nodding toward the blanket.

“Lay down for me.”

You lay on your back across the blanket, allowing you to look up at the moon and stars, but your focus is not on that ethereal sight. Instead, you are focused on the sinful man in front of you, who removes his bow tie and jacket. In no time he is undressed down to his boxers and kneels down between your legs.

He leans forward to capture your lips for a moment, before moving down your body. He makes sure to leave hickies across your collarbone and chest, peppering a few on your stomach as well. He snaps at the elastic band with his teeth before for pulling the underwear down with his fingers.

“You look so fucking beautiful in these, I want to see you in them again. We can’t go ruining them on the first night.”

As he speaks, his breath fans across the expanse of your stomach, but it is his words that make you shiver. He pulls the garment down your legs slowly, allowing the anticipation to build until you are squirming for his touch. He removes your bra next, your nipples hard in the cool ocean air. His finger ghost across them, sending waves of pleasure down to your pussy.  

“Please, Rafe. I’ve missed you so much, missed your touch so much. Don’t keep me waiting,” You moan, but there is no threat in your words. You both know exactly who is in charge here.

“Did you think about me, angel? Did you touch yourself and wish it were my fingers making you cum?”

You bite you lip and nod as you make eye contact with Rafe. He smirks and one of his fingers tease your entrance, gathering wetness before plunging in. Moans drip from your lips as he sets a steady pace, fingers curling up to touch your g-spot. He adds a second, then a third. He kisses you neck as he speeds up, other hand moving to rub your clit. You are a moaning mess, clenching around his fingers as you get closer and closer to your climax.

“Is this what you wanted? You want to cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes! Yes, please, I want to cum. Can I cum?”

He groans at your pleading tone, fingers starting to pound into you.

“Cum, angel.”

You do so with a scream, back arching off the ground as he slows his movements only slightly. He replaces the hand on your clit with his mouth, giving the bundle of nerves a few kitten licks before pressing down on it with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck!” you scream, still sensitive from your orgasm only seconds before. His fingers pick up the pace again, his tongue continuing to attack your clit. Your second orgasm comes quickly, and he removes his fingers, not allowing you time to adjust to the emptiness before he starts to fuck you with his tongue. An arm lays across your torso, holding you down as you buck into his mouth. His other hand moves to you clit, giving a much gentler touch than before. A few minutes later, Rafe is lapping up the juices of your third orgasm.

He sits up and grins at you, lips shining with your wetness. Your eyes are hooded, exhausted from the pleasure coursing through your veins. He kisses you, quick to deepen the kiss by plunging his tongue into you, allowing you to taste your self.

He pulls away to remove his boxers, lining himself up with your entrance when he returns. You hiss as the tip brushes across your clit as he gathers your wetness. He thrusts into you slowly with a low moan, savoring every inch of your pussy around his dick. You meet his eyes as he bottoms out, stilling inside of you for a moment. His face suddenly softens and he gives you a tender kiss.

“I love you,” He said

“I love you too,” You replied. The words leave your mouth wrapped around the promises of tomorrow, of spending another day on Earth with you. He kisses you again as he pulls almost all the way out, slamming back into you fully. You scream against his lips as he sets a brutal pace. He hikes one of you knees higher on his hip, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly as he fucks you into the sand.

Rafe never found you more beautiful than now. Your halo askew on top of your disheveled hair. Your tits bounce as he pounds into you, moving in rhythm with his hips. Moans and curses fall from your sweet lips and Rafe groans at the sight of your wide open mouth and closed eyes. An angel screaming for god as she faces the heavens. He squeezes your throat a little tighter.

“Say my fucking name, angel.”

“Fuck! Rafe! Rafe…please, Rafe!”

The new mantra spills from your mouth, sweet like honey. He catches it with his own lips, thrusting harder. You feel the sting of his hips snapping against yours and you love it.

You feel your legs start to shake as you approach your fourth orgasm, and Rafe can feel it to. He moves his hand to rub your clit but the pressure he gives it sends you over the edge. You scream his name, becoming a whimpering mess as he continues to fuck you.

“It’s too much…” You whimper but he quiets you with a kiss.

“One more. You’ve got one more for me, angel.”

He hooks one of your ankles on his shoulder and you moan as he hits you deeper than ever before. He continues to rub gentle shapes into you clit. As you get closer to the edge, you feel Rafe’s thrusts get sloppier. You clench around him as you cum, the feeling sending Rafe over right behind you.

He gives you a few more pumps before pulling out completely and collapsing next to you. You feel absolutely spent, breath heavy from the multiple orgasms of the night. You’re ready to curl into Rafe and pass out, but his finger linger down your body to your center.

“I can’t…” You manage to get out, but it fades into a moan as Rafe massages your clit slowly. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, biting it lightly before sucking on it and pulling away with a pop.

“Just one more. Please, angel. You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan as he goes back to your breasts, sucking at biting at them as he continues to rub your clit slowly. Your sixth orgasm builds slowly, almost taking you by surprise. You cum with a quiet moan, legs shaking as Rafe brings you down from your high. He leaves a few more kisses on your collar bone before standing up, returning a few seconds later with another blanket. He pulls you close to him, covering the both of you in the blanket. You fall asleep quickly under the stars, body exhausted from the stress, excitement, and pleasure of the day.

Rafe awakens to the sunrise, orange rays scattering across your bodies Your chest rises and falls against his and he makes sure to memorize every part of your body. Yesterday had been blissful. For a moment, you both got to forget about the problems that surrounded your relationship. But it was a new day, and the rest of his time with you would be an uphill battle.

He had shit to work on, shit he would never want you to see. But he wanted you, hell, he needed you by his side through all of it. He trusted you to hold his fragile heart and prayed that you would allow him yours. He refused to shatter it again, especially when it was still mending. He would hold it tenderly and cherish it for the rest of his days.

The days ahead would be rough. There was a lot to talk about. But he thinks of that night beneath the stars over two months ago, when you found him. Neither of you knew it then, but when you sat beside him on the sand and spoke sweet words, you had taken his heart and never given it back. He didn’t mind, he knew you would keep it safe.

As he felt you stir beside him, he closed his eyes and pulled you closer, wanting to spend a little longer away from reality for a little longer. It was time, though. Time to love you wholly. Time to love himself as much as you loved him. Time to get his life together.

“Rafe,” You whisper, “it’s time to wake up.”

taglist:  @teenwaywardasgardian @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obxmxybxnk @butgilinsky @juliarose21 @bluesiderudy @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @diverdcwn @mdlyncline @https-luna @broken-jj @nqbmf @ityagirljay @downbytheouterbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @trinnwazheree

[anxiouslyfred]

Calm Down Stories

Summary: Remus wishes his telepathic link with his soulmate helped him calm Virgil down in ways beyond telling stories, but it works. Today he tries helping a stranger in a music shop at the same time by talking about a CD cover to them, and sending his words over the telepathic link.

/\/\

'Can't do this. Too loud, too busy. Can't, can't can't' Remus wished that he knew how to help, really help Virgil, especially when these repetitions began to echo through their connection. He'd tried looking up what helps anxiety, methods soulmates had used before meeting in the past.

Virgil had only panicked more when he'd tried using them, terrified that he was harming or annoying Remus with his fears, worries, everything.

Later they had spoken about it, covered that Remus had only wanted to help, support him since he couldn't take the anxiety away but also that he hadn't sounded like himself to Virgil while following those methods. Besides as soon as he knew it wasn't helping Virgil, he'd returned to his usual method of trying to help with his soulmates panic, imagining stories, and adventures he'd gone on, or thought sounded fun.

Remus knew that was all just distractions though, nothing that actually helped long term. Their telepathy thankfully hid his wishes to do more, even just talk through the struggles Virgil had when overwhelmed so he projected stories about his day, and compliments, so many compliments about the things Virgil let slip through in his thoughts.

'You somewhere safe to calm down in? Or still stuck among the madding crowd?' Remus asked, already heading into the nearest shop. It was always easier to come up with a story if he didn't have to worry about walking into strangers constantly. Their yelling could filter through to Virgil and make things worse if he did walk into them.

'Music Shop. Can't move, can't hide, can't can't can't cope, all too much, going to have people staring at me.' On one hand Remus could start trying to come up with some distraction story, on the other, if Virgil was already worrying about getting stares that usually meant he needed someone actually with him to calm down alongside the thoughts Remus could send to him. They'd already mentioned this morning that they were both out picking up some new accessories and clothes alone today.

He glanced around the shop hoping for something he could twist into a bizarre story, more confusing than a surrealism painting and realised that he was in a music shop too, with plenty of CD cases to take inspiration from and a guy in a hoodie clinging to one of the shelves as though the world was ending...

A guy looking like the world was ending could probably use a distraction just as much as Virgil needed on too so Remus had a focus and a way to start chattering away. The display the man had stopped at had some weird album art on it.

“Hey Fella, can I get to those CD's in front of ya?” He asked, trying to pantomime reaching around him without breaching any personal space the man might need.

He got a panicked look and a stumble out of the way for that, but picked up on of the cases anyway, raising an eyebrow. “Are you breathing there, Honey? I would help more but have been told I suck at leading breathing patterns. Or rather that I'm too impatient to count slowly in whatever way they need.” Remus just let any thoughts that crossed his mind and would be okay for Virgil to hear while panicking be said. He knew that quite often if he spoke things they'd get sent over their bond as thoughts too, and really didn't want to make either his soulmate or this stranger worse.

The man did attempt to take a deep breath at his words though, so Remus classed that as a win and waved the CD case up. “You know, Fella, I always wonder what the story could be behind album art like this. Seriously half of music nowadays is all love, sex, money, or escaping to nature. I bet none of the songs even mention a bat, let alone an octopus so why put them on a cover.” Really he could have found a worse cover to talk about, but this would do.

Virgil was quiet, no repetitions of 'Can't' to be heard for the moment and the panicking man was just nodding, clearly still upset, but definitely trying to breathe to some pattern Remus couldn't fathom.

“Then again, why would a bat even be flying over the ocean? It doesn't seem like something they'd do. I mean sure, birds migrate, and there's gotta be some bats that live in seaside town. Literally enough books and films set in England mention bats that it has to be like a given some are near the sea. That island is tiny.” Remus now had to get the CD if only so he'd remember to look up ocean bats later on. If they existed he wanted to know everything, including the weirdest things they eat. Can bats prey on fish?

“Some in Mexico migrate and hunt at sea.” The man breathed out, sounding shaky and half terrified of actually joining in with Remus's conversation.

He nodded in thanks, now frowning at the other animal on the screen. “Still, pretty unrealistic for an octopus to be that vibrantly yellow in the middle of the night. Practically all cephalopods have some ability to change their colour and that bright near the surface. It's basically putting up a sign saying ' I'm here, hunt me' to any predators near the surface. Although maybe it's more trying to get the gift delivered to it and would go to darker shade as soon as that box is actually in its grasp.”

“Why would a bat be taking presents to an octopus anyway?” Remus blinked at the question. It was one he'd expected to have thought at him, if Virgil was starting to calm down at least, but instead the stranger had asked it.

Mentally he thought threw bringing the bat bombs he'd read about once up, but shook the thought away, shrugging and carrying on wriggling. “Could be any reason. Perhaps bats are the animal worlds equivalent to Santa, only instead of one man in a sleigh you have hundreds or millions of these fluffy little friends flying around trying to give presents on like midsummer or something. Can't have a winter celebration for the animals when tons of them are hibernating.”

“Would be more animals on the picture if that was the case. Could just be the octopus and bat are friends.” Remus looked at the man again, staring for a moment as he spoke. There was still a shake to his breaths but they were slow again, and his hands weren't tensing for something to grip onto.

“Well now I just want to know how a bat and an octopus would become friends. It can't be easy given one lives literally under the sea and the other in caves or treetops and flies everywhere.” He exclaimed, getting a snort, before focusing on his thoughts. 'Hey Virge, You've gone quiet there. Are you calming down or has something happened?'

The man he'd been helping to calm down at the same time smirked, “Who are humans to limit what friendships animals can make? I'm more curious over what gift they would share.”

“Well that's easy, things the octopus couldn't get normally but might like to eat. Some other types of insects or whatever.” Remus suggested, now frowning as he still got no response.

“Is something wrong? I thought your story from this CD cover was going really well. Have I upset you trying to join in with it?” The man asked, worried again as he watched Remus.

He shook his head, “No, your ideas are brilliant, awesome actually. I just, well my soulmate was upset too so part of the story was for you, partly for him, but now I'm not getting any response.” Remus tried to wave away the concern, already thinking again 'Virgil, please just a random I've been knocked out and thoughts aren't awake response would be wonderful right now.'

The man frowned too, “That could just mean you've... Give me a moment to try contacting my soulmate cause you're right. He'd normally have been telling me some weird story but instead you were here talking and I don't think I've heard from him for a bit.” Remus didn't need to ask what the broken off sentence meant. He'd have lost the telepathy if he had met his soulmate, and the only person that would qualify for that was this man.

He waited for a moment, watching as the man closed his eyes, before staring at him again. “So is your soulmate called Virgil?”

“Is your soulmate called Remus?” He countered, beginning to bounce in place again.

“Yes, oh bloody hell, you accidentally managed to find me, mid panic attack and still decided to help me calm down? You're insane, what if I was dangerous or something?” Virgil exclaimed, shoving at Remus's chest lightly.

Remus just started laughing, grabbing the arm that shoved him to pull Virgil into a hug. “Somehow I don't think anyone dangerous would be frozen clinging to a display in a music shop. Come on, You need food and hot chocolate after that freak out, and I need as much sugar as I can fit into a drink. There's a cafe a few shops down.”

He didn't release the hug while making that decision, and only snickered when Virgil half heartedly attempted to pull away. “If we're going there you need to let me go, and pay for that CD.”

“Hmm, maybe in a bit. I've wanted to wrap you up in hugs when you're upset for all our lives so you can enjoy the longest hug ever before we move.” Remus declared, tightening one arm while the other came up to pet Virgil's hair.

Perhaps he wouldn't normally have helped a stranger calm down but he couldn't be more please that he had today.

[marypsue]

I meant to finish this for ROTG Fave Ship Week, Prompt #2: Mythology, but then life happened and it didn't get done in time. Still, better very, very late than never?

...

Tia advertises herself as a 'practitioner of positive magicks', these days. She knows she catches some flak - snide comments about 'fluffy bunnies', the occasional bad review on FaceBookOfShadows or Yowl from people who came in looking for curse ingredients - for her angel card readings and fairy garden offerings, but she's been at this for long enough that it doesn't really bother her anymore. She's seen what the 'dark side' has to offer, and honestly, it's a little underwhelming.

Besides, her garden never gets bugs or blight, and there's never a line when she stops for coffee. She must be doing something right.

She tags along to circles mostly because Sandra invites her. Tia's got nothing against Gaia, but then, she's never gone in much for gods in general. In her opinion, they’re a little like cats. She’s not sure what they really have to do with the craft, other than contributing to the aesthetic, and giving them treats (or, in the case of gods, offerings) just encourages them.

Tia can't resist a party, though, and the summer solstice is the biggest party until Samhain. The potlatch is always to die for, too, especially if St. North brings his famous, if unseasonal, gingerbread.

St. North and his gingerbread are, thankfully, in attendance this year, as are Jackie and her punch, and Aster and her egg salad. The rest of the usual suspects all seem to be in attendance - Tia even catches sight of Koz lurking in a darkened corner, despite the fact that she's pretty sure they've dedicated themselves to Trickster - as well as a few new faces. A couple of teenagers, the girl who looks like she's humouring the boy's wide-eyed enthusiasm; a cluster of four middle-aged ladies who came with velvet robes and a bad case of the giggles; a scholarly-looking older gentleman who gives the impression that at any moment he might whip out a pipe and start puffing on it thoughtfully; and a statuesque woman of indeterminate age in a green silk shift that ripples like a field of long grass in a high wind when she moves, which is not often. She stands a little apart from the crowd, surveying the buffet table and the lawn with a gaze that would seem casual and unconcerned if it weren't for the intensity of her dark eyes.

"Is that one of Koz' relatives?" Tia asks Sandra, nudging her with one elbow to get her to look in the stranger's direction. If anyone should know anything about Koz' relatives, it's bound to be Sandra.

But Sandra just shrugs, and then gestures towards the table, already groaning with food. Tia glances from the tempting spread to the woman in green, and makes up her mind.

"I'm going to go find out," she says. Sandra shrugs again, reaching up to snag a samosa off one of the plates Tia's carrying before making a beeline for the table.

The woman in green seems surprised when Tia approaches her, as though she hadn't expected it, even though Tia had watched her watching the party all the way over. Her long, dark hair falls in shining waves to the small of her back, her proud nose and olive skin betraying some Mediterranean heritage. Probably not a relative of Koz', then. Up close, she's even taller than she'd seemed, towering over Tia by at least two full feet. Somehow, still, even when she's literally looking down at Tia, she doesn't seem to be looking down on her.

Tia offers the plates she's holding almost as an excuse - no, wait, definitely as an excuse. Sandra would tell her off for being such an insufferable busybody - after she was done debriefing Tia for all the gossip, of course. "Sorry, I thought you were a friend of mine. Well, a relative of a friend of mine," she babbles, laughing to cover her sudden attack of nerves. There's something deeply unsettling about being the sole focus of the stranger's attention. "I noticed you didn't seem all that interested in the food, but I made samosas and some veggie pakoras, and I happen to think they're my best batch yet, I'll have to come up with some other recipe if I want to top myself for Samhain, maybe something with pumpkin in it? I know it's a cliché, but -"

Tia's tongue tangles into a knot in her mouth when the stranger reaches one elegant, long-fingered hand down and selects a pakora from the plate Tia holds out. She brings it up to eye level, gazing intently at it as she turns it that way and this, and Tia notices that her talon-like nails are black - not like they've been painted or shellacked, but like they're made of black horn.

Tia's read plenty of books where characters have been described as having teeth like strings of pearls, but this is the first time she's met someone who seems to deserve it. The stranger's teeth, when she opens her mouth to take a bite of the pakora, are brilliant white, somehow slightly iridescent, and seem just a little too sharp for being set into a human-looking face.

Tia realises she'd just thought 'human-looking' instead of 'human' at the same time as the stranger sinks those unusually sharp teeth into Tia's - there's no other word for it - offering. The stranger's eyes sink closed as her mouth does, and a little smile curls it upwards at the corners.

"That is delicious," she says, swallowing, and Tia feels heat rising up the back of her neck. The stranger's voice is surprisingly deep, smooth and dark as velvet.

"Oh, good," Tia babbles. "Do you like the spice blend? I hope I can get it right again, I only figured it out through trial and error, and it was a whole lot of error -"

The stranger turns her smile on Tia, opening her eyes. Tia had thought they were dark before, but somehow they're not. They're a deep, rich, emerald, though no less intense than they had been.

"I'm certain you will," she says, and there's a strange quirk to her smile, a curious lilt to her voice, as though there's more behind her words than just a simple hope or reassurance.

Tia tries to swallow, realises how dry her mouth's become.

"Would - would you like a samosa, too?" she manages, and the stranger smiles at that, wide and white and real, before reaching down and taking one.

...

Sandra looks up from the buffet when Tia slams down her plates on the table. Both Sandra's eyebrows shoot towards her hairline, and she smiles expectantly.

"She's not a relative of Koz'," Tia says, almost snarls. She doesn't understand why she's suddenly so angry. "She calls herself Serafina, and she's stunning and awe-inspiring and weird, and I think she might be Gaia in disguise."

Tia hadn't thought it would be possible for Sandra's eyebrows to climb any higher, and yet somehow she manages it.

"I don't know either!" Tia complains. "But there's something going on with her. And it's midsummer, and we're throwing a party just to celebrate and invoke Gaia, and, I mean, if gods like Wiseman can turn up in human guise to test the faith of their followers, then why not her? And I think -" She has to stop and swallow hard. Her mouth is still dry, despite the two margaritas she'd poured down her throat. "I think I just made her an offering."

Sandra's eyebrows drop back down so fast that Tia can almost hear the thunderclap. The smile that crosses her sweet face is incongruously wicked.

"No," Tia says. "No. I know what you're thinking, and no."

Sandra's smile grows, if possible, even wider.

...

Tia's angel cards stop talking to her the next day.

She's just sat down to do a reading - for a paying customer, no less - but when she lays out the cards in a spread, every single card she flips is blank. The little hand-painted angel figures, with all their wings and eyes and rich robes, are gone.

"I'm - I'm terribly sorry," Tia says to the woman tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. She checks the deck - still full of painted angels - and gives it a shuffle, before laying down another spread. "Let's try that again."

The first card she flips is blank.

"Is this supposed to happen?" Tia's client asks. There's an edge in her voice like she's ready to get up and walk out.

Tia flips all of the cards. Blank, blank, blank.

Tia flops back in her chair, and stares at the empty spread in front of her in disbelief.

She ends up refunding the client. As she's showing the woman the door, apologising profusely, she happens to look down.

There's a zucchini on her front step.

...

Tia tries reading for herself. Tries a little crystal healing. Tries to summon a fairy guide.

It doesn't matter what she does. There's radio silence from beyond the veil. Whatever Tia was in contact with before, it's packed up and walked out on her.

Tia is mundane.

...

Sandra arrives in record time. When Tia answers the door, she's holding two acorn squash and giving Tia a puzzled look.

"What're those for?" Tia asks. Sandra shrugs, gesturing to Tia's front step, and Tia barely bites back a groan.

"Excellent! This is just what I needed." She throws her hands up in the air, before tugging on her hair with both fists. "Sandra, you're the expert. How do I get rid of a god's favour?"

Sandra's eyebrows shoot up, and she gives Tia a warning look.

"Ooh, I know, but - I don't know what else to do!" She steps back to let Sandra in to the entryway, sitting down on the lowest of the stairs. "She's scaring off everything else, and I don't know anything about nature workings, and I don't want a patron god, and I'm not doing any quests or missions, and she keeps giving me vegetables -" She cuts herself off with a strangled, frustrated scream into her hand.

Sandra purses her lips, and Tia can tell she's trying not to laugh. "It's not funny," she protests, aware that she's whining.

Sandra shifts one of the acorn squash to the other arm so she can waggle a hand in disagreement. Tia sighs.

"All right, maybe it's a little funny," she mutters, and pushes herself up off the steps. "Well, are you planning to stand out here laughing at me all night, or are you going to come up and help me?"

...

Sandra's something of an expert on summonings, divinations, and spirit communications, but even she can’t get anything from Tia’s usual suspects. The shit-eating grin slowly fades from her face the longer she can't get any signal, and she finally sits back with a frown, stubbing out a cone of incense with her thumb.

"See? I told you!" Tia complains, waving an arm towards the chalk circles and little piles of offerings that Sandra's scattered across her kitchen floor. "It's like having a shark swimming around! All the little fishes got scared off and now they're hiding!" She fixes Sandra with a glower that melts the delighted grin that scrolls across Sandra's face. "And don't you dare make some crack about there being plenty of fish in the sea."

Sandra shrugs both shoulders, and then climbs up from where she's been sitting on the floor. She gathers up her divination kit, and starts towards the door.

"Oh, wait! Please, you're not just giving up, are you?" Tia runs after her, catching Sandra just as she's about to step out into the stairwell. "Sandra, I'm serious. All of my magic is gone! What am I going to do?"

Sandra pauses, with Tia's hand on her elbow, and looks up. There's no hint of a smile on her face as she looks deeply, searchingly, into Tia's eyes, and says, "Talk to her."

Tia stammers over an attempt at a comeback, but Sandra only pats her arm and gently prises her grip free, making her way out the apartment door and down the stairs.

...

The next morning, Tia can't get her front door open for vines. A perfect, round, blood-red tomato thwacks her in the knuckles when she tries to wrench the door free.

She leaves the shop closed for the day, heads upstairs to find her chalk.

...

Gaia appears with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, fog rolling off of her and filling Tia's small apartment. She's the same as she'd appeared at midsummer, and yet different as well - she hadn't sported the heavy, curved black horns that are tangled in with her masses of thick dark hair, and her eyes had not had snake-pupil slits, and she had not been accompanied by a distant sound of rain and birdsong.

She appears triumphant in Tia's apartment, arms spread wide and a look of self-satisfied benevolence on her face. It very quickly disappears when one of Tia's decorative pillows bounces off the side of her head.

"Ow!" Gaia says, her beautiful deep voice echoing with earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, as she reaches down to pick up the pillow. "What the -"

She seems to notice, for the first time, Tia standing in the middle of the room, breathing hard and with another decorative pillow ready to throw.

"Go away!" Tia yells. She's pretty sure this isn't what Sandra had meant when she'd said 'talk to her', but...it's talking. Well. Yelling. Same difference. "I was perfectly happy and fine without you! You drove away all my spirits, ruined my business, trapped me in my own home - I don't need a patron! I don't want your favour! Leave me alone!"

Gaia blinks. If Tia weren't well acquainted with the legendary arrogance of gods, she'd almost think that Gaia looks shell-shocked.

"You approached me," she rumbles, dangerously. "You alone recognised me at my own festival, you made me an offering -"

"Only because I thought you were pretty!" Tia blurts, and then claps both hands over her mouth.

Gaia's darkening expression suddenly switches to one of confusion.

"Lonely! I meant to say lonely!" Tia babbles, flapping her hands nervously. Gaia ducks one particularly wild swing with the pillow Tia's still holding. "You didn't have anybody with you, and I was just trying to be friendly, and - I don't need a god," she says, firmly, planting both hands on her hips and trying to look confident and menacing.

Gaia looms over her, her expression pure befuddlement.

"I am beauty itself, in its purest form, wild and untamed and awe-inspiring -" she starts, and then cuts herself off. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I'm - I'm very sorry if I've insulted you," Tia says. "But, uh, yes?"

Gaia looks down at Tia, almost wonderingly. Tia stares back, defiant.

Gaia clears her throat.

"You may not need a god," she says, enunciating every word carefully and not meeting Tia's eyes. "But how about a girlfriend?"

It's Tia's turn to be dumbfounded.

"Um," she says.

"Think about it," Gaia says. There's an evergreen hue to her stark cheekbones that Tia thinks, suddenly, crazily, must be a blush. Gaia clears her throat, throws her shoulders back, and shakes out her hair. "I shall expect your answer by Samhain," she adds, imperiously, and goes a darker green when Tia rolls her eyes.

"I'll think about it," Tia says, finally. She looks up at Gaia's strange green eyes, and finds herself compelled to add, "But...it would help my decision if you courted me? Not with vegetables," she adds, hurriedly.

Gaia's still green, but a wicked smile slashes a scimitar-curve across her face.

"Well, then," she says. "It seems I have my work cut out for me. Very well, little mortal."

"That's not exactly the most endearing pet name," Tia interrupts, but Gaia ploughs valiantly on.

"Prepare yourself to be courted," she says, and then shoots Tia a wink that leaves Tia, momentarily, speechless. "Expect my visitation!"

And then, with another flash of lightning and clap of thunder, she's gone again.

Tia stands in the middle of the living room for a full fifteen minutes before she can wrap her head around what just happened.

...

When Tia tells Sandra, Sandra laughs and laughs.

[jontaro-kun]

“A night at the Sleeping Squire”

I wrote this story months ago but here it is now, it doesn’t have a plot or anything it’s just me exploring characters.

     Chef was the first to arrive at the tavern, as always, wanting to be sure that he and his friends got a good table before the rush came in. It was a midsummer night at The Sleeping Squire, a Friday night if he remembered correctly.

      It would take a while before they arrived, as they lived far from Stonewood. About one or two days away in a carriage. They only visited on special occasions like a birthday, successful hunt, a well-paying job, or whenever Chef was in the mood for a vacation. He always thought the food could be better, though.

      He looked around at the other patrons of the bar, which were illuminated by the warm orange glow of freshly lit candles and fireplaces. Stonewood by itself is a very vibrant and lively place, as are the Knights who call it home, but the taverns are where their culture is amplified tenfold. Valkyr, Elves, Knights and all of the sort bustling about, drinking and laughing and singing shared by a mug of mead and a sliver of seared runehorn. On this night, in particular, the atmosphere was extra jubilant.

      “Must be a special occasion for them too.” He chuckled to himself as a waitress walked towards his table.

      “Can I get you anything, hun?”

      “Just water, for now, I’m expecting some friends.” As was his tradition, always being the first after all, water was free anyway.

      As she walked away his attention turned to the entrance, which had no doors and revealed the city streets outside as two people walked in energetically, the sound of a charming bell ringing throughout the tavern anyway. One was wearing a metal mask over wild, green, sharp hair. The one next to him had dark blue skin, glowing eyes of a lighter shade, and vibrant orange hair, he was adjusting his collar as he walked in. They both looked around before locking eyes with Chef, excitement plastered on their faces, or at least, one of their faces. The other was wearing a mask after all.

      “Come here, my boys!” Chef said, motioning for them.

      The sharp one took his half-helmet off as he sat down next to him. “Sorry we’re late, big man. Story thought we were going to a different tavern called The Laughing Dragon.”

      “Well excuse me, it’s not my fault they sound so similar. Tavern names are always ‘The something something blahblahblah’.” he said as he raised his hand to signal a waitress.

      “You might be right but Laughing Dragon and Sleeping Squire sound completely different.”

      Chef gave out a laugh, “I’m going to have to agree with Blade here, my boy.”

      Story politely asked for a cold mug of milk, which was his favorite. He made extra sure to ask for it cold, the others thought he was weird for always being meticulously specific with things, but after the incident of his 15th birthday, he never made the mistake of not specifying cold.

      Blade was different, at first he asked for a mug of ale, then a pint of mead, then a glass of fine wine with steak, but he ended up getting water, he would worry himself with the decision later in the night. His arms were still sore from the day before.

      Chef asked for another water.

      The bell rang throughout the tavern once more. This time it was someone in a long flowing coat, maroon in color, with gold accents. They had an air of mystery to them as they walked through the entrance as if someone with a fine taste in the magical arts had decided to partake in the festivities of The Sleeping Squire, however, the main giveaway was the wizard hat of the same color. His bright violet eyes shone through the shadow of the visor, and upon seeing the other three knights, happily shouted in excitement, breaking into what seemed like a mix of dancing, walking, and otherwise a very outgoing personality as they made their way to the table. He placed his hat on the table along with a pouch that jingled as it plopped down.

      “Apologies fellas,” he said with a chuckle, “but I saw a game of dragon dice out in the streets and I wanted in.” He tossed the pouch to Chef, “Lucky number 6, Falcon eyes.”

      “I counted on it, my boy.” Chef said, smiling and signaling a bartender, “One ale please!”

      “So Blade, my man, you still sore from the hunt?” he nudged him in the shoulder.

      “Yeah a little, Huntress was too busy setting up the trap to notice that the bastard was hunting us too. It’s horn almost went right up my-”

      “So Story! Are you planning on entertaining these fine folk tonight?” he interrupted while he laid back and crossed his legs.

      “I hope so, Shuffle.” Story twiddled his thumbs nervously, staring at his drink and then back at Shuffle, “I’m gonna tell them about what happened the other day, but with my own twist.”

      “Is it gonna have the part where the horn-”

      “Yeah, but I can’t just SAY that.”

      The table broke into laughter and the bell rang again, two more entered the tavern. One was tall and wearing a thick black fur coat with a visored helmet. The other was short and seemed to have all the defining features of a bunny rabbit, despite not actually being one, and seemed to bounce with every step. When they saw the others the tall one gave a nod and walked towards them while the bunny excitedly waved and skipped to their table.

      “Oh my god guys outside I saw the cutest little Knight ever!” she said as she took a seat next to Story.

      “Bunny, don’t you say that about every child you see in this city?” Blade said, sarcastically.

      Bunny reached for one of the mugs before the one in the black coat smacked her hand away. “Maybe I do, I admit, but this one was wearing a cute tunic with a flame pattern. Maybe their affinity is fire!” She almost zoned out near the end of her sentence, she was always quite the hyper one.

      “That’s uhh, quite the deduction. We should call you Detective.” Story said.

      The one in the black coat sat by Chef, he looked rather sluggish and disinterested in the conversation. “This is a good table, distant, quiet, not in anyone’s way.”

      “Just the way you like it, my boy.” Chef always took his friends into account when making decisions. “So Bomb, my boy, do you happen to know where Huntress might be?”

      Bomb looked around, shrugged, and pointed to the corner of the tavern with a large group of patrons causing commotions. They looked to be either celebrating or cheering on something taking place within the center of the crowd. They suddenly burst into laughter, shouts, and the clinking of mugs and glasses, the others could see within the crowd that an arm wrestle had taken place between an orc and a rather muscular woman.

      Blade and Shuffle immediately got up to join the crowd, cheering on the woman as loud as they could. That woman was Huntress, it turned out she was in the tavern the whole time.

      Once they all gathered at the table again, drinks ordered, food served, and the music at the tavern as cheery as ever, they made their toast.

      Story stood up and clinked his wine glass of milk, “I desire to prepare a toast for some one most special and important to all of us. 'tis chef's day of birth! a friend to most, a father to us. As well as a close acquaintance to the kitchen halls. Shall he hast a fortunate day of celebration!”

      The table exploded with cheers, clinks, and hoorahs.

      “I swear, each year the toast gets longer and longer and it’s great.” Blade said while trying to keep Bunny from drinking.

      “Just a bit of practice before someone starts a telling of the Legend Knight.” Story smiled, looking around anxiously at the other people.

      Huntress laughed and downed another mug. “Are you gonna tell them about the hunt we went on the other day? HA, that’s a good one. My favorite part was when the beast snuck up behind us and Blade almost got it in the-”

      “You two seem very adamant on me describing that part in full detail.” Story sighed as he stood up.

      “I’m just saying, that Runehorn was a tough bastard and that was like, the most dangerous part.” Blade looked around the table, “Where is….Chef and Shuffle?”

      Bomb pointed to another corner of the tavern. “Shuffle is heckling another cheater over there, Chef is watching them, and not sure if you wanted to know but Bunny got into someone’s drink and now she’s drunkenly singing with the band over there.”

      On another corner of the tavern was a telling of stories and adventure. Story had completely captivated a group of patrons as he retold the events of the hunt, and he made sure to include the details that caused the whole bar to burst into laughter. Story had always been one to wait until the party already started to practice his craft, tonight was different. You could say that it was a moment of motivation given the celebration of Chef’s birthday, but you could just as easily say it could be related to the group of girls sitting near the bar where he performed.

      But alas, all nights come to an end. The first to leave was Bomb, having purchased a keg to take back home thanks to Shuffle’s earnings. Then was Huntress, carrying Bunny on her shoulders, Bunny was clearly in a completely different world at that point.

      Story pointed at them leaving and asked Chef, “Didn’t Bunny only get to one of our half-empty mugs?” To which Chef replied with a joyous laughter.

      Gone was Shuffle and Blade, who said they would head straight to the inn but were instead headed for the marketplace. Most likely to buy food for Chef to cook in the morning. Story went after them, but he probably just wanted to spend more time in the city, it was always beautiful at night.

     Chef was the last to leave, as always, wanting to be sure that all his friends got to the inn safe. There was, however, a tab that needed to be paid. 

      "Well, I'll let them repay me through dish duties!" He laughed, pulling out his wallet.

[raventons]

99 q/a for 2017

1.    What’s the toughest decision you made today? To get out of bed after a 3 hour nap.

2.    What’s the toughest decision you made this year? I would say turning around at the airport, not going to Moscow, deciding my mental health is more important than that trip. However, I was just following my fear, which is quite an easy feeling to follow. And I have not once found myself second guessing that call. I am not one to dwell too much on decisions like that. I honestly contemplate more about what I’m having for dinner, or what underwear to buy – and I always end up regretting or celebrating those decisions more.

3.    What’s the toughest decision you ever made? Once I spent over an hour deciding if I wanted carbonara or caciatora. I went with caciatora, and that day I learned that if you are in doubt, you should always go with what your dinner company orders. My dad got carbonara, and it was out of this world. If you order the same thing as your date, it might still be the lesser option, but at least you will not know what you are missing. As an intellectual, this is one of the conclusions I’m the most proud of.

4.    What have you forgotten? Almost all the math I was taught in high school.

5.    If you were guaranteed the answer to one question, what would it be? I would love to know who is answering me, and how they got the ability to answer any question ever.

6.    What’s it like being you right now? Better than it has been. A lot better. I’d say good.

7.    What makes you nostalgic? Lenny Kravitz, long car rides, the soundtrack of midsummer murders and the smell of old Swedish cabin in a Småland forest (we all know that smell).

8.    If you had two hours left on earth what would you do? Sit close to my parents, and talk about our life together. And tell them how grateful I am and how happy they’ve made me.

9.    What’s the most beautiful word in the world? The Swedish Blockchoklad or the Russian Nemnoga

10. Who makes you laugh more than anyone? Alex, no doubt.

11. What did your father teach you? How to show affection, how to make people laugh, how to interact with strangers, how to put together a good outfit, how to cook and pretty much everything I know on economy and religion. And how much it means to have amazing parents that never, not even once, let you down.

12. What did your mother teach you? How to not give a shit about anyone’s opinion, how to appreciate simplicity, how to be a storyteller, how to calm down when afraid, how to love without giving yourself up, how to be badass and pretty much everything I know on literature, self-esteem and really bad British crime stories. And how much it means to have amazing parents that never, not even once, let you down.

13. What’s the best gift you’ve ever given? An orange moose I gave to my dad. It was really cheap and dumb, but he had just been diagnosed with a chronical disease (he is much better now) and everything just seemed to fall apart. So I did what any good daughter would do, I bought him a stuffed animal. It made him smile. And he still keeps it by his bedside. It’s called the vomit moose, since that was the most… obvious symptom at the time.

14. Best gift you ever received? My friend Lin gave me a card once with pictures and drawings of us. I love it and still have it ten years later.

15. How many times a day do you look in the mirror? Way too many.

16. What do you bring most to a friendship? I’d like to think I am funny. I talk too much, and always about the wrong and often quite strange things, but when I’m in the right mood and they’re in the right mood; I’d say I am funny.

17. If 100 people in your age group were selected randomly, how many do you think they’d find leading a happier life than you? Very few if we are talking happy as in privileged. I am so very lucky and have had so many fortunate turns in my life.  

18. What is or was your best subject in school? Social science.

19. What activity do you do that makes you feel most like yourself? Writing.

20. What makes you feel supported? I do. (Wow, I am actually quite proud of that answer, but it is true. Sometimes I look for help or motivation in others, but confidence and shit I truthfully only find in myself).

21. Whom do you secretly admire? Secretly? No one. I admire a lot of people, and I think I make sure to tell them.

22. What time of the day do you feel the most energetic and what do you usually do in those moments? Noon. Usually waste that energy on procrastination.

23. What’s something you never leave home without? Pants.

24. What’s a recurring dream you have? Teeth falling out. Or organs. I quite often have nightmares about some stuff that is supposed to be inside or attached to my body suddenly isn’t.

25. What makes you feel safe? Blankets and tea.

26. What’s the best thing that ever happened to you? Discovering international law as my field of work.

27. What do you want people to say about you once you’re gone? That I was smart.

28. What’s the coolest thing about science? Well… let’s go with nature science, because my field of research is not cool at all. I think it’s about the fact that nature is there. It’s not something we invent or solve, it’s something we discover. It’s all written, all the answers are out there somewhere. All the equations, all the numbers, they all correspond to a reality we only see fragments of. It’s like humanity is reading a book together, and the physicists and biologists flip the pages. And for each chapter we find out more and more about how the world around us works.

29. What’s the best money you ever spent? My skinny, black jeans.

30. What’s a bad habit you have? Listening to bad music. I don’t want to support sexist or racist producers. Still here I am, having my playlists filled with pop about grabbing pussies. I’m also weirdly addicted to marzipan.

31. What are you grateful for? My professors and a free education.

32. Whom are you envious of? Almost everyone. But it varies, passes and comes back. It depends on the day. Or the hour.

33. What’s an image you’ll never forget? Well, I have to go with a few summers ago when me and a former classmate ended up skinny dipping in a sunset down at Österlen. But actually, the first thing that came to mind was the real holocaust footage that was included in the TV-show The Promise. I had to leave the room, could not finish the series and I still think about it quite often.

34. Describe a near-death experience. My brain thinks I have one daily, but I don’t think I’ve ever had one. Once I got my luggage lost in Russia, and we had to drive around downtown St Petersburg for hours in a shady cab. It was all fine and no hostile environment what so ever, but when I tell the story it really sounds quite near-death.

35. If you had a clone, what would you have the clone do? Dishes.

36. What’s your idea of Heaven? A lot of cozy spots by windows with rain outside. Good food, good tea and good conversation. A book shelf would be nice too.

37. What’s your idea Hell? Bad food, bad tea and bad conversation.

38. When did you know? Did I ever?

39. What can you do better? I could be more structured. I literally have no routines at all.

40. When are you most yourself? When I am alone, covered in loud music.

41. What superpower would you most like to have? Time travelling but without all the complicated world-war-shit to come with it.

42. If you were granted three wishes, what would you do with the second wish? Fix up the UN.

43. What is your actual superpower? I am very, very analytic. I am also amazing at app games.

44. If you won 100 million dollars, what would you buy first? I would love to own a goat. But well, that’s more of a management problem than an actual money problem.

45. What's the best sound in the world? Waves. Or someone biting in chocolate.

46. What’s perfect about your life? My parents. And Amanda. She is a wonderful person. 

47. What song do you sing only when you’re alone and what memory does it bring back? Min Kärlek av Shirley Clamp. And there is no memories connected, it’s just fucking brilliant.

48. Describe a moment you were so embarrassed you wanted to disappear. When I was 8 we had a quiz in class, and I answered cow instead of turtle (I will NOT tell you the question).

49. How many times a day do you think about money? Every time I use it.

50. Who has been the biggest influence on you in your relationship to money? My parents.

51. What's one thing you're certain of? Cows don’t have shells.

52. Describe one of your colossal failures. I think I just did.

53. What makes you cringe? People trying to make memes a thing you can refer to in real life.

54. What does your inner voice tell you? To shut up. I tell it the same.

55. What crime have you considered committing? I don’t even bike without a helmet. I am a pussy.

56. What's great about your mom? Her hair is amazing.

57. What’s great about your dad? His hair is not so very amazing (and I inherited it) but he has other good qualities. He collects post-cards for example. That’s pretty cool.

58. Which day would you gladly re-live? The day in third grade when I won the egg-cracking championship at our school.

59. What are you awesome at? Egg-cracking, obviously.

60. What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I seem decent.

61. When were you most afraid? Berlin, 2014.

62. What are you terrible at but love to do anyway? Sex, probably.

63. What weapon would you carry during the Zombie Apocalypse? An axe or a sword. Or a nuke, if bad goes to worse.

64. Which of your five senses would you keep if you could only keep one? I would like to hear shit.

65. What’s something you love to make? Pancakes.

66. What do you cook better than anyone? This weird ass pasta with butter. It’s unhealthy but so damn good.

67. What do you wish you’d invented? The airplane. Or well… the flying machine or whatever it was called when it was invented.

68. What would you like to invent? A new UN system.

69. Out of 100 random people, where would you rank yourself in terms of your intelligence? Pretty high.

70. Where do you want to be right now? Venice.

71. If you could be someone else for a day who would it be and why? Graham Norton. He seems so happy. And he is funny and smart and his job seems to be really cool.

72. What makes you feel powerful? My Hans Zimmer playlist.

73. What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said? Considering how empty my brain is right now, I think it has done quite some work on supressing those memories.

74. What’s the meanest thing someone has ever said to you? Actually, most people are nice. I don’t think anyone has ever been really mean to me. Sometimes I get hurt, when people say I am pretentious or annoying. But the only reason they say that (and the only reason it hurts) is it’s true.

75. What three words would you have on your grave stone? Let me sleep.

76. What’s your first thought when you wake up? Let me sleep.

77. What’s one thing you wake up to in the middle of the night worrying about? Usually if I have cancer in the prostate since I need to pee ALL the time. But then I remember I am a female.

78. If you could tell someone something anonymously, what would it be? I would tell my cousin Johan to never be insecure about anything. He is probably the most awesome, complete and admirable person in the world.

79. Whom would you like to forgive and forget? The people who made two and a half men.

80. If you could get rid of one of your responsibilities today, what would it be? Dishes.

81. What type of person angers you the most? Extreme right wingers who grew up in a place where they had a choice. Of course you can’t blame people for reacting to the environment around them, and get affected by their culture – but people who grow up with access to information and without oppression – how on earth did you make those conclusions?  

82. What is your greatest strength? I’m confident about my intellect.

83. What is your worst weakness? I’m insecure about pretty much everything else.

84. How do you show your love for others?  Tiny surprises. It can be buying them flowers, cleaning their apartment or just answering a two years old text and apologize for forgetting their existence.

85. Why are you here in this room right now? It’s 10 degrees minus outside.

86. When is a time you forgave someone or were forgiven for something? I forgave myself for not doing the dishes. It felt good.

87. What’s the biggest mistake you ever made? Talking too much. I always talk too much. It’s not one big mistake at one certain event. But it keeps on happening and I never fucking learn.

88. What are you hiding? Nothing.

89. What’s your unanswerable question--the question you seem to always be asking yourself? Can there be true objectivity?

90. What are you ashamed of? My fetishes.

91. What is stopping you? Panic attacks. Or walls, mostly.

92. What’s a secret you have? I really have no idea what I am going to do with my life.

93. How do you secretly manipulate people to get your way? I don’t do this on purpose, but I’ve noticed it happening without actively thinking about it. I usually express a will to rely on people, and come across as weak and fragile, making them think I need their help and protection – when I am really just better of on my own.

94. When was the last time you apologized? This morning.

95. What is the biggest lie you tell yourself? That I am a cool and mysterious person that people look up to.  

96. What’s the moment you left childhood behind? Probably when I moved out from home and went grocery shopping for the first time. Deciding if I needed milk or not was my first ever adult decision.

97. What's missing from your life? Structure. And home cooked meals.

98. Do you believe in a higher power? No.

99. What are you ready to let go of? About half my closet and my fear of flying.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust, Volume 3, Number 10

We celebrate midsummer with the usual oddball mix of styles and genres, from post-apocalyptic techno to bubblegum pop to a Moroccan trio delivered from obscurity (sort of) by the Sun City Girls. Contributors this time around included Ian Mathers, Bill Meyer, Derek Taylor, Justin Cober-Lake and Jennifer Kelly.

Clark — Death Peak (Warp) 

Given Chris Clark’s long, influential history of making weird and often dark techno and the title Death Peak, you’d be forgiven for approaching his newest album as Clark with some trepidation. And at times he’ll reward that approach; certainly the children’s choir intoning “we are your ancestors” between pulsing waves and sparse beats on “Catastrophe Anthem” sounds somehow post-apocalyptic, and there are plenty of tones and moments here that practically throb with foreboding. But as the rumpled, brightly colored cover art might indicate, there’s more at work here, and much of Death Peak isn’t so much stark as it is the sound of the world’s most upbeat industrial equipment (“Slap Drones”) or a song based around just about the most cheerfully wibbling sound you can imagine (“Butterfly Prowler”). Such is Clark’s steady hand and keen, err, ear that none of this feels out of place, and by the time the length, steadily morphing “Un U.K.” closes things out it actually feels like a coherent statement. Clark has frequently been this interesting and occasionally hard to parse, but the advance here is that he’s rarely been as immediately ingratiating will doing so.  

Ian Mathers

Dominique Eade & Ran Blake — Town and Country (Sunnyside) 

Ran Blake remains a singular romantic, although the majority of his musical encounters over the past 50-plus years have been of the staunchly agape sort. A sizeable side of the pianist’s catalog involves intimate pairings with disparate vocalists dating back to an early and fiercely iconoclastic tandem with the late Jeanne Lee. Fifty-something chanteuse Dominique Eade fits right into that august lineage and with a robust rapport evident throughout Town and Country. The duo’s song net casts wide, pulling in a passel of tunes that range from an acrobatic wordless improvisation on a tone row devised by Gunther Schuller to the hoary torch song staple “Moon River” corralling cuts by Cash and Ives along the way. On Dylan’s “It’s Alright, Ma” Eade matches the rhythmic rapidity of the songwriter in her stylized oration of the tongue-twisting lyrics. Two tracks receive double renderings, the subtle differences divergent enough to invite close scrutiny in comparison. The decision to end with Leadbelly’s “Goodnight, Irene” proves a pitch perfect one with Blake bringing a disorienting whiff of destabilizing dissonance as Eade intones a soulful entreaty to the lullaby’s subject.

Derek Taylor

Les Frères Mégri — Les Frères Mégri (Sudiphone) 

You could say many things about the Sun City Girls, but one thing you can’t dispute is that they had great taste in covers. One of them originates on this LP, which was originally released by Phillips in 1974. The Mégri family included three brothers, all veteran session men in their native Morocco; their sister contributes some backing vocals and doesn’t get her photo on the cover with the boys. “Leili Twil,” which the Sun City Girls renamed “Cruel And Thin,” is even more stirring in this incarnation than it is on 300,003 Crossdressers From Beyond The Rig Veda, but it’s not the only thing on this record that’ll take you somewhere else. Jalila’s ethereal voice and electric sitar accents make “Galouli Ensaha” an apt tune to soundtrack some desert road movie; wah-wah guitar and impetuous bass make “Sebar” the song you’d deploy for the car chase ‘round the cliff sequence. Lightly applied psychedelic production and insistent hooks make this one lost psych classic that you’ll want to play, not flip.

Bill Meyer 

King James & the Special Men — Act Like You Know (Special Man Industries) 

Act Like You Know by King James & the Special Men

Skip to the end on this one, not because the beginning is bad, but because once you’ve heard “9th Ward Blues,” you’re going to want to hear it again…and again…and maybe all night long. It’s the longest cut on the disc and it’s got the crazed shuffle of the Stooges “1969” crossed with Bo Diddley’s “Who Do You Love?” spliced with a New Orleans-style second line. A mid-cut brass fracas with dueling trumpets, trombone and tuba, grounds this cut in Dixieland, but elsewhere it has the hazy forever horizon of psychedelic punk. Now back to the beginning before we wear out the repeat button. “Special Man Boogie” is trance-y R&B with a Caribbean lilt, “Baby Girl” a serrated soul-ful slow dance that would make Charles Bradley proud. “Eat Chicken” is silly and slight, saved with filthy guitar blues and blowsy sax, and “The End Is Near” sways like a roadhouse drunk, bleary blasts of saxophone pushing it forward. And then, like magic, you’re back at “9th Ward Blues,” which is where you wanted to be the whole time.  

Jennifer Kelly 

Mike Majkowski—Days and Other Days (Astral Spirits) 

Days and Other Days by Mike Majkowski

p>“Touch wood.” You might say it when you’re invoking protection from misfortune, but double bassist Mike Majkowski does it in ways that make you aware of his main instrument’s physical dimensions. Raised in Australia and based in Berlin, Majkowski is the sort of working musician who declines to be pinned down. He can lay down grooves with Ethiopian keyboardist Hailu Mergia, or enact a close dance of shadows with violinist Johnny Chang in the duo Illogical Harmonies. When bow meets strings on latest solo effort Days and Other Days, you know that a big box is being touched vigorously enough for plenty of air to move. Since Majkowski is free to make spontaneous music elsewhere, his solo work is more worked over. He layers percussion, siren-like samples and slow-bubbling synths over and around the big woody thump of his bass, and the result is music big enough to live in. We’re all a bit lucky to live in a time when we can hear such great stuff.

Bill Meyer 

Rob Mazurek—Chants and Corners (Clean Feed) 

When it comes to the creative peregrinations of Rob Mazurek, company does not necessarily dictate content. Bar the addition of pianist Philip Somervell, Chants And Corners was recorded with the same musicians that made Return The Tides , an ultra-emotional and deeply psychedelic sonic wake for Mazurek’s mother. But the territory mapped out here is more like an electro-acoustic take on free improvisation. Out go the overt grooves and commanding solos, replaced by huge flashing masses of hard-to-source sound punctuated by Somervell’s halting by heavy punctuations. Mazurek spends at least as much time tickling synth keys as blowing horn, but it’s often the acoustic input — a whistle, a horn, a creeping bass line — that makes this music cohere. This album was recorded, as was Return the Tides, in Sao Paulo, Brazil, but that only serves to underline the fact that wherever Mazurek is, he’s somewhere else.

Bill Meyer 

Red River Dialect — Bowing for the Rook (Lono) 

Bowing for the Rook by Red River Dialect

These four songs were written in the gap between awellupontheway and Tender Gold and Gentle Blue (both entirely worth checking out), after Red River Dialect’s David Morris had moved from Cornwall to Hackney and the future of the band was somewhat in doubt. Morris’ main collaborator here is Coral Rose, who plays the cello, looping velvet swathes of string sounds around the spare contours of “Bowing (For Mark)” and slipping a wild alto drone into moody “St. Buryan to Sennen.”  The songs dip and sway with gentle melancholy, shading from straight folk into blues and, occasionally, jazz, like Pentangle did and like Starless and Bible Black still occasionally manage. The best cut here is “The Rook” a reeling, string-swelling sea song that is full to the brim without sounding at all forced. Morris is in fine, restrained vocal shape on this one, barely breathing the lyrics yet infusing them with vibrating, pulsing life. If you’re just getting to know Red River Dialect, this way station recording is probably not the place to start, but it’s a lovely place to rest in between. I’ll be looking for the full-length later this year.

Jennifer Kelly 

Various Artists — Matinée Idols (Matinée) 

As it hits its 20th anniversary, Matinée Recordings has pulled together 14 tracks from some of its key artists (and, yes, they should have gone for 20). The tracks should please long-time fans. While there's nothing too shocking in the indie-pop presented here, the songs are rare or previously unreleased music rather than a series of the label's greatest hits, without including throwaway material. While the Lucksmiths aren't present, their jangly sound survives in Last Leaves, (who including former Lucksmiths). They provide the disc's best track with “Something Falls,” mixing a happy Australian sound with a thoughtful singer. Another new band, Royal Landscaping Society shows a more patient, atmospheric approach that isn't necessarily associated with the label, and may be suggestive of what's to come.

Of course, the anniversary disc isn't about promoting the new acts. The labels staples do what they do. Bubblegum Lemonade, besides having a name that epitomizes the label, provides “Set the Boy Free,” which epitomizes what they do. Likewise the Math and Physics Club, the Hermit Crabs, and the Catenary Wires put in an appearance, but, more notably, Azure Blue close the disc with their electro-pop. The mix shows the breadth of Matinée's sound; its roots may be in a Go-Betweens approach, but its artists haven't stuck to the strictures of the down under sound (or Glaswegian influences). Lining everyone up together makes for a fun little and a nice reminder of the term indie-pop can be simultaneously right on the money and remarkably vague.

Justin Cober-Lake

Andrew St. James — The “Big Ole Veronica Apology Record” (Island Jar)

Andrew St. James had a couple Veronicas that he needed to tell he was sorry. Instead of doing that, he made a record. And named a song for Laura. The album isn't noticeably an autobiographical confession. He does capture the feeling of regret at moments; the calmer his folk-rock, the more down he feels. St. James resists that mood with his pop leanings. For every talkin' Bob Dylan feeling lost numbers, there's an indie-rock track aided by unobtrustive electronic drums. St. James might feel at home in the Village, but his closest contemporary colleague might be Kurt Vile. While St. James isn't as precise or expansive, he shows a good knack for capturing his atmosphere, sometimes a gauzy update on his indie-folk predecessors. He's a storyteller, and this album sounds like he's starting to come into his own. At twenty-one, he might be hitting his stride. He still needs to say he's sorry.

Justin Cober-Lake

Raoul Vignal — The Silver Veil (Talitres) 

The Silver Veil by Raoul Vignal

The Silver Veil opens with a bold guitar harmonic and several figures that hang in the air. Then Raoul Vignal’s fingers set up a flowing pattern and his voice comes in, moving smoothly from the back of his throat to the front of the mix. That combination sounds sets up an instant association with Nick Drake, and nothing over the course of Vignal’s debut LP dispels it. Since Drake’s soul is busy doing whatever ghosts due with Volkswagen royalties, and Vignal is alive and making a record 40 years after Drake’s passing. Let’s concede him the right to make a record that sounds the way he wants it to sound and say that he got it right. Working mostly alone, he’s crafted a sequence of songs that fold shy singing into fleet picking so closely, you could wrap them around you like a double-layered blanket with soft fleece on the inside and warm but prickly wool on the outside.  

Bill Meyer 

[glookie]

Looking back

Yesterday we celebrated my clubs 10th anniversary. It was nice to watch old pictures of my team members and to see how they fenced back in the days. You could really see the development In HEMA during the last decade just by looking at pictures and old videos. It happened a lot during the years I’ve been a member, and that is not particularly long at all – in November I’ve been doing hema for 3 years. Before going to the anniversary party I was thinking about holding a speech, but I didn’t. I wasn’t prepared, the thought crossed my mind a bit too late. That is the reason why I wanted to write this text. So many thoughts came to me, and I feel that it’s important for me to share this thoughts with you.

The first thought that came to my mind was: Where was I ten years ago? I was 19 years old. Had just finished school. I didn’t know what I wanted at all, I had a very hard time seeing the future in front of me. If someone had told med then: Ten years from now, you will be doing martial arts with swords. And! You will be pretty good at it also. Oh my god. I would have laughed them straight in the face. Me? Doing martial arts? No fucking way! With swords? You gotta be kidding me! I am no one, not good at anything. Especially not at martial arts, I can barely take instructions on choreography doing theatre! That what was I was doing at the time, theatre. It took all of my time, rehearsing, rehearsing. That year, 2007, I played a role in Shakespeare’s “A midsummer night’s dream” in the summer.

I’m the one in the back, wearing that multicolored vest 

That was also the year my theatre group started to rent a local that we could have as our own, that was a big step for us. I think I was in three or four plays that year.   The years went on, still was into this theatre making. I loved every minute of it. It was my own bubble, my escape from reality. I had a hard time being a part of the society, I had a hard time finding myself and fitting in. Theatre was the perfect world for me to be in, it was almost like a drug. I never stopped, just wanting more. People still talks about a particular scene I’ve made during 2009, I played a five-year old. Today I have a hard time understanding that I really made all those things. Who would have thought that the shy girl from school could be able to stand on a stage like that? Not me, not anyone. But I did.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mJ3G7BSluU&t=3s Me playing the five-year old. It’s on Swedish ;)

The thing is, I never had an interest in playing theatre before I started doing it. I came into theatre because of my sister. She had a role in a play 2004, the year after they wanted her in another role. She didn’t want it, they asked me instead since we were related. I thought, sure. Why not? I did it, I got a role as a maiden named Lotta who had a little brother named August. We sang together at the stage. Looking at that video today is loads of fun, I am so tense! I’m saying my lines, but that is also it. What a difference just a few years later, it’s almost like I turned into someone else.

Me in my first play 2005. 

I did a lot of stuff, sure. But I felt lost in an everyday manner. I had friends, was productive and tons of energy. At least it looked that way. I still had days and periods I didn’t feel at home at all. That feeling of not fitting in was always hanging over me, I felt like I was in the way at my parents. Almost like they didn’t want me there at all. I worked at my dad’s friend’s place, washing chicken stables and also helping them picking all the chickens up when it was time for them to go to slaughter. Those days when I got home from washing the stables I was filled with birds spilling all over me. It got stuck in my hair and my clothes. I did this a couple of times in every month. We also helped other farmers sending their chickens to slaughter working night shifts. Not a glamorous job at all. Coming home all tired and covered in dust every time. I worked hard, like I always have. One day I got a phone call from another farmer who needed someone who could wash their stables, they had a pig farm. I went there, washed some of their stables and then I got stuck there for 2 years or so. Swords nowhere to be seen. If you don’t count a pitchfork for a sword ;). Somewhere in between those years my mum kicked me out from home. Leading me to making stupid decisions. I leant my sister’s apartment for a while, I was 21 at this time, felt like shit. I was unaccepted, unwanted and in my own eyes not worth the shoes I was walking in. I didn’t care anymore, I just wanted to get away from everything. I started to chat with a guy over the internet. We decided to meet on a date. And so we did. I’ve met him in the city, Örebro, and I remember I thought: No, not my type. But what the hell, I don’t care. I just want to get out of my situation. We started to see each other more. My lack of self-respect made me start a relationship with this guy, even though I didn’t even like him. I couldn’t get anything better anyhow, I thought to myself. I was way out of line, I had shut myself down. I decided to move to him in Eskilstuna on a very short notice. That wasn’t especially smart of me, but I was in a crisis. So much going on inside of me. Thinking: “Things can’t be worse than they already are”. Never think that way. Things can always be worse. They did. When I moved in I started to notice strange things. For example, I was there and put some clothes there one weekend. The next time I showed up (this was before I actually moved in but still) the TV and the lamp in the bedroom was missing. And some other things to. I asked him: Where are these things? - They are, gone. Me: But, how? A TV can’t just disappear. - It did! I had to push him, he told me after a while that it was his ex who came by to pick her things up. We talked through it, I accepted it. But still thought it was a bit weird.. My guts told me that this was bad shit going on but I held it to my senses. I pushed that feeling away trying to not think about it. A month later he received this message from her, saying that we had to move out. Then I realized that the apartment was hers, not his. God. What a mess. It was me paying the rent and all the bills from my savings. He didn’t do a shit. We moved out. Lived at his friend for a while. I managed to get another apartment. We moved in there. Lived there for a month or so, then he started to act really badly. I’ve seen tendencies to this before, him having this anger issues smashing things into walls, hitting his hand in tables and stuffs for what seemed to be no reason at all. I was always afraid for something to happen. My money started to run out. I was going home for a week to work, just some days before that he became so mad at me for hanging the laundry in the wrong manner. His eyes were all black. I ran into the bedroom when he became aggressive. I closed the door, and I could see the laundry basket that were made out of plastic, coming at the door through the air. I shut the door and heard a bang. I went down behind the bed. Scared as hell, was this the last minutes of my life? He came in. Screaming. Throwing something at me. Went out. I was shaking. I could hear him watching TV. I told myself I had to do something, just anything. I went out in the hall and into the kitchen. I started to make the dishes. I cried. He heard me. Still angry. He yelled: SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! I couldn’t handle it anymore. I sat down at the floor, managed to crawl in beneath the dishing bench. I sat there in this hole mad for a dishwasher. I never felt so lonely and scared in my entire life. He came out after a while. Calm. He told me in a calm manner: I realized something, we don’t need a laundry basket. I was out of my mind. What the fuck was he saying?! I told him he was a lunatic, he just nod against me. “Yes I know, but we don’t need a laundry basket” Oh my god. This human being was a special kind of human in the bad way. I got home, worked for a week. Hell break loose, he making weird stuff that he couldn’t afford. Being out with his gang, buying them drinks for money he didn’t have. I was pissed. When I finally got home after some troubles along the way (long story). I come into my apartment together with a friend. He is stoned. Starts to yell at us. Getting pissed. He getting those dark eyes again. I can’t really say what happened after that. I know he got out and hit both me and my friend, and that we managed to get him back in the apartment and run away to call the police. I told him to never get back. Never. I moved back to my mum and dad. Lived there for a year or so. Got my own apartment In Hallsberg. After a while I managed to get both a full time job as a personal assistant, I moved to Kristinehamn where I also had a boyfriend. I worked too much, slept too little. I hit that famous wall. Quit my job, started to study in Örebro. Told my boyfriend to get lost since we didn’t worked out so well together. After the first term on the university I got lost, I broke down so much I had a memory loss and started to hallucinate. I only existed one moment at a time, only remember who I was and what connection I had to people. I couldn’t remember things I’ve went through, things that happened were completely gone. I panicked, I freaked out. The time was running away from me, I couldn’t catch it at all. This made me see all the people around me getting old and die in front of me. I saw it, like it was for real. I couldn’t hold myself together. I screamed being so afraid of myself and what was happening to me. Somehow I managed to get through this, without help. I found the source to what was happening to me and dealt with it. I had to accept the fact that we are mortal. I was afraid of dying, and it stressed me out that I couldn’t handle time anymore. That it was running away from me. I found my own way through it and became my own therapist. I got back to school, never had to take a break from it. Then I started to suffer from insomnia. Slept like 2-3 hours per night. I still managed to study though, don’t ask me how but I did. I contacted a friend who helped me with a sleeping program, which helped but it was a hell to get through. I started to sleep normal again. Life became a bit easier. For a while. Through a friend I met this girl who needed somewhere to stay. She had a baby and a dog. I lived in a big apartment that I couldn’t really afford by myself, I let her move in. Of course, with my luck, it was a person with problems. She couldn’t handle her child, calling her 9 months baby an idiot. Yelling at her. Lifting her up and screaming at her when she just wanted food. You name it. I did everything I could to protect this child, I got up and gave her the bottle as soon as I could so the mother wouldn’t be angry at the morning. I took the baby up and walked around with her. She was a very calm child. Didn’t want so much attention. Slept during the nights (when her mother was away atleast) ate, and only wanted attention when she needed food, love or a diaper change. I almost adopted her as my own, when she was with me she was calm. Everytime her mother went away the baby slept early. As soon as the mother got her hand at the door, the child started to scream in panic. It was like this for some months. She lied a lot, it came to me that she had told others that it was her apartment and not mine. And other things. I decided to kick her out. My mum told me that this was the girl who had threatened to kill my bigger sister ten years ago. What the fuck life. What have I done against you? I thought. It felt like I was living in a bad movie. This couldn’t be real. Anyhow, I kicked her out. She was pissed. I didn’t care. I started to live alone. Had a friend that came over every other week, since he worked in the city. Things were starting to get back to normal, again. My dad had been feeling badly for a while. Having a hard time working as normal. One day my mum calls. I got this bad feeling. She tells me dad wants to talk with me. Dad never talked to me in the phone. Never. She hands over the phone. Dad tells me he got diagnosed with ALS. ALS is a disease that cut the nerve signals from your body out. Making you more and more paralyzed. I sat down. Didn’t know how to handle the situation. This big black hole started to fill up my body. Sadness. Frustration. Anger. During this time a friend of mine who I met through larping, tried to pursue me into this fencing shit. At least, I thought it was shit. I thought he talked about sport fencing, and believe me. He had to talk about it for 1,5 years before I actually tried it out. His finals word that made me go there was: We need more tough girls. My mind: Tough girls? I AM ONE! I came by in the middle of a term. Being a bit nervous. What was I getting my ass into? This was in the middle of November 2014. I had to meet a whole bunch of new people who already started in the beginner’s course that term. I felt insecure, had to stand in a corner by myself and a trainer. Feeling dumb and silly. I couldn’t even stand correctly in a stanse. Making a fool of my self. But I got stuck in it. 

Meanwhile my dad got so bad I dropped out of university to work for him as a personal assistant. I helped my dad with stuff that is normal for other people. I had to help him eat, help him to the toilet and so on. In the end he got moved to a home for old people who can’t take care of themselves. I did my best at training. I got new friends there, and bruises. A lot of them. I started to compete just 6-7 months after I started, getting my head into it. My dad got more and more ill. I couldn’t handle it. I got sick from seeing it. The last three months of his life I wasn’t there. I couldn’t anymore, it hurt me so bad seeing my dad becoming a wreck. Not being able to do anything at all, he was shutting down more and more. By that time I was ill myself. Couldn’t go out the door. Most of the days I laid in bed doing nothing at all. Tried to go out, got a panic attack from it. At the worst I had 5-6 panic attacks every day. I was a mess. I didn’t give in though. Every day I went to training. Refusing to give in for anxiety and depression. Some days that was the only thing I managed to do. I got up and got out. How hard it felt, I didn’t care. I got there. That was the only thing that mattered to me. Training, with swords. If it wasn’t for my trainer, Carl, I wouldn’t have continued at all. But somehow he made me got my ass up and go there. Every. Single. Time. Not like he forced me to, but he made me want to go there. No matter how bad I felt. My team members have seen me cry during practice. They have also seen me getting panic attacks both on trainings and on events we’ve been on together. I sometimes wanted to give up, I still feel the same way today. How much can you handle? But I never did. They never gave up on me, especially not Carl. I ain’t going to either, that is the easy way out. But shortcuts making it all much harder in the end. You miss a lot if you take them. Ten years ago I couldn’t imagine myself being where I am today. I even had a hard time imagined myself being 29 years old, life didn’t seem to be for people like me. But here I am. Having a job which I’m good at. Having a lot of experience in acting. Being one of the greatest women in Swedish HEMA fighting (hard to believe, I know. But the facts says so). Last, but the most important; having a big bunch of friends who been following me through those years, they are my family and I love every single one of them. Now I am actually looking forward to the next ten years in life, I didn’t back then. Never give up. xoxo Lotta

[haru-on-ice]

Yuri on Ice Fanfic Rec List

Here are some of my favorite YOI fanfics so far! :) This list will be updated often! If you have any suggestions for fics that I can add, feel free to message me. 

Last update/addition to list: April 23, 2017

My organization is kinda weird and all over the place right now since I’m constantly updating this, but basically it goes from my favorites of all time from each ship, and THEN to the rest of the series, then to the multi-chaptered fics, then to the one-shots.. If that makes sense lol. Sorry. ^-^’;

Also, let me add: I was originally going to list how many chapters each fic has, but some are currently ongoing! Therefore, only the series/fics that are COMPLETE will have the number of chapters listed so that I don’t have to update this every day. :) And another thing: I have fics separated by the main ship. However, many of the Victuuri fanfictions I have listed also have Otayuri on the side as well, so I apologize if some of you don’t really like that too much. Thanks for understanding!

Note: Most of these are explicit rated. ;)

Update: Removed the majority of my “notes” sections, because my wording just bothers me lol. 

Fics are under the cut!

Victuuri:

------------- Favorite Victuuri Fics -------------

Beside the Dancing Sea by lily_winterwood and MapleTreeway

Rating: Explicit

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: 13

Words: 186,584

He’s finally here in this lovely and quiet little beach cottage, and the rest of the year seems to stretch out infinitely before him. Time will pass, though, and it will pass faster than he realizes, but in the meantime he will stop worrying about writer’s block and deadlines and not even having the foggiest clue what his next novel’s going to be about, and live.

New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer's block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve.

And Viktor will be damned if he doesn't find out just what those secrets are.

Victory of the Night by c0rnfl0wer

Rating: Explicit

Type: Series

Part 1- Meet Me By the River:

Chapters: 1

Words: 11,527

Every Kupala Night has come and gone without his attending, but now that Viktor Nikiforov is getting older and taking over the position as leader of his village, he has to start taking his life in a different direction. He wasn't sure whether he expected anything at all in this way. But when Yuuri catches his wreath, he finds the path he had always longed for.

Historical/Mythology AU based on Slavic mythology and traditions, specifically Kupala Night - a midsummer celebration involving merrymaking in a few different ways.

Part 2- Ivan da Maria:

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Rusalka: a living-dead aquatic spirit in folklore that varies in their attitude toward humans. Navka: a subdivision of the Rusalka, known for its charming cruelty.

Viktor never minded when human civilization built up around him, or when other spirits began sharing the waters with him. He easily dominated every tradition that the centuries presented; that was what he minded. No one wants to be known for tragedy. No one wants to be subjected to loneliness and despair forever. No one wants to drag their beloved one down. Everyone wants a happy ending, even if it isn't in their nature.

Separation Anxiety by Okaeri_Kairi

Rating: Explicit

Type: Multi-chapter. Main fic of the Haven series.

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Deep in the dark, unsettling back alleys of St. Petersburg, a network of rival families makes up the heart of the mafia that runs the city's underground. Of these, none is more feared than the Nikiforov family, an infamous group that is said to be led by a man of cold blood and steel. Viktor, the son of the previous boss, knows only too well just how frightening this man is.

He is, after all, married to him.

Notes: Mafia AU. Major content warning for rape/non-con, as well as child abuse, suicide mention, torture, and a LOT of violence.

Rivals by Reiya

Rating: Explicit

Type: Series

Part 1- Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches:

Chapters: 14

Words: 197,690

‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’

A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.

Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

Part 2- Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts:

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Viktor doesn’t remember the first time he met Yuuri Katsuki.

This however, is what Viktor does remember…

You Can’t Plan for Everything by RivDeV

Rating: Explicit

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Yuuri forgets that he has a scheduled heat coming up until it's just a couple weeks away. He scrambles to get everything ready in time, including deciding whether he'll spend it alone or with someone. Victor only wants to help.

Notes: Omegaverse AU.

Twenty-Five Hours by 0lizzybennet0

Rating: Mature

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

In which Yuuri spends a 25 hour flight next to Victor Nikiforov, skating legend, and feels it might simultaneously be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him.

Set at the start of the series, if Yuuri and Victor had never met at the banquet and Yuuri never skated Victor's routine.

katsuki_fc wrote by tetsurashian

Rating: General Audiences

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: 7

Words: 12,744

Just because Yuuri isn't big on social media, doesn't mean his fans aren't.

(aka a social media fic)

My Notes: Social media format. This cured my post-episode 12 depression.

Masquerade by Ashida

Rating: Explicit

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

“Just say the word.” came the whisper as Victor stepped close, behind them Yuuri was aware of guns out and at the ready, of confused men and questioned loyalties, here Victor was offering, and Yuuri was too selfish to say no.

“Ok.” Yuuri smiled as this game of masquerade came to an end, what would happen now, he didn’t know, he would probably die, his family would come after him and try to put a knife in his back or a bullet between his eyes, none of it mattered, because together they would fight, and the rest of the world would finally burn.

Notes: Mafia AU. Content warning for violence, blood, gore, etc. 

Faded by martialartist816

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 6,283

Victor knows only two things: that he's very drunk and that Yuuri looks very good in that suit.

Notes: PORN. VERY, VERY GOOD PORN. This is my favorite oneshot of all time and I HIGHLY FREAKING RECOMMEND IT. This oneshot is my #aesthetic and if it was a person then I would marry it, no questions asked. The line about the skyline is what got me tbh I am so wEAK for that type of sappy shit and it was such a visual line that I could picture the whole setting clearly in my head and hoooooo I just REALLY love this fic. 👌👌👌 Read it now.

Trembling Hands, Smooth Jazz, and You by SuggestiveScribe

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 10,785

Yuuri swallowed past the tightness in his throat, “Am I the one being interviewed now?”

“I just want to know more about you,” Viktor responded. “You write so much on your blog and within media, but none of those words are ever about yourself.”

Music filled the momentary silence. “There’s not much to say,” Yuuri eventually answered.

“There’s always something to say.”

Notes: Journalist AU.

10 Kinks Challenge by anirondack

Rating: Explicit:

Type: Series

Parts: 10 (too many to link here, sorry!)

Words: 55,570

10 fics about 10 kinks for Victor/Yuuri. 

centripetal force by braveten

Rating: Explicit

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: 10

Words: 85,800

Victor speaks seven languages.

(Physics isn't one of them.)

Luckily, though, he ends up rooming with his antithesis: a shy, black-haired boy who just so happens to be a physics major.

the death of a bachelor by exile_wrath

Rating: Teen and Up (may be subject to change?)

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

In which Victor is at the top of the (criminal) world, and ends up falling for the hot bartender that works at a Giacometti speakeasy.

Alternatively: In which Yuuri is a bartender with a thing for the hot patron which could probably kill him but also wants to have sex with him. To be fair, Yuuri is pretty down to sleep with him too.

But things don't go as planned, sometimes, and rather than Victor finding someone to warm his bed for a night, he finds Yuuri, who offers him an intimacy and care that he had never thought he'd have. And in turn, Yuuri finds someone achingly lonely but willing to open his heart so they can both be together in a way they had only dreamed of.

------------- More Victuuri Fics -------------

Of Love and Other Emotions by smudgesofink

Rating: Teen & Up

Type: Series

Part 1- Fascination: 

Chapters: 1

Words: 1,198

Victor didn’t understand it at first but Yuuri has such a deep fascination with every part of his body.

Part 2- Silliness and Stolen Shirts: 

Chapters: 1

Words: 2,764

“You’re,” Victor begins in a stammer, and wait, are the tips of his ears turning pink? “You’re wearing my shirt.” Yuuri looks down at himself once again, and sure enough, it’s Victor’s wine red shirt that’s hanging off his body.

In which Victor is weak for the Boyfriend Shirt, and Yuuri doesn't realize he is, too.

Part 3- Hold Me Tight: 

Chapters: 2

Words: 11,556

Katsuki Yuuri is not a tactile man. Anyone who’s spent a minute with him can tell you that much.

Victor, however—

To say that Victor is touchy-feely is the understatement of the century.

So when Victor just stops touching Yuuri, without explanation, without reason, it makes for a painfully jarring experience.

(Alternatively titled: Five Times Victor Hugs Yuuri, and the One Time He Doesn't)

Notes: Content warning for homophobia in part 3.

Quad Lutz by iamalivenow

Rating: Explicit

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Victor falls in love with Yuuri every single time they touch each other.

Yuuri loves him from the beginning.

Notes: Kinky.

In Regards to Love by martialartist816

Rating: Mature

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A 

Each chapter is a drabble for either Eros or Agape. These drabbles tell stories of Victor and Yuuri, ranging from all sorts of AU's. The songs are what they skate to during their duets.

Notes: My favorite drabble is the summer camp one. :)

Spurious Beauties and Excellencies by pseudocitrus

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 3,674

No one seems to find all this touching unusual at all, even though the mere thought of anyone thinking so is enough to make Yuri feel like he’s replaced his face with a pool of lava.

Notes: Porn.

Patience by martialartist816 

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 3,505

"You said you wanted me to do something that would excite you." Yuuri's voice sounded cool and even above him. Victor suspected he wore a small smile. "This is what I thought of."

Notes: Two words: Bottom. Victor. :) I actually read this when I was out at dinner with my mom and her gf. It was a very good dining experience! :D

Talk to Me by SuggestiveScribe 

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 3,929

There was a bouncing shift of weight, and suddenly a silky voice was at Yuuri's ear, "Hey Yuuri, is it possible you like when I speak Russian?"

Yuuri groaned.

Viktor's lips ghosted right beneath Yuuri's ear, gently sliding over the sensitive flesh of his neck, "I can speak Russian to you, if you like."

Watch by SuggestiveScribe

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 7,869

"You have pretty legs, Yuuri."

Notes: MIRROR SEX.

Distraction by SuggestiveScribe

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 7,968

"Yuuri, let's not think about that," Viktor said, holding out his hands. Yuuri set his other skate aside. "You should take your mind off it; maybe seek a distraction--"

"Okay."

"--Anything to disengage from the nega--" Viktor stopped, blinking. "Wait, what?"

Yuuri rose back to his feet, moving to stand in front of Viktor. Emotion burned at the edge of his irises, and in the limited light his stare flashed more crimson than brown, "I said, 'okay'."

Notes: WINDOW SEX IS GREAT.

Otayuri:

From Almaty, With Love by BoxWineConfessions

Rating: Explicit

Type: Series

Part 1- From Almaty, With Love: 

Chapters: 13

Words:  71,776

It’s quiet here. Even if the car alarm on the neighbor’s goddamn BMW has been going off for the past twenty minutes. Quiet, even though the alarm’s got the neighbor’s dog howling like crazy, and the neighbor works second shift and isn’t there to comfort the dumb dog.

It’s quiet…They haven’t spoken to each other since that morning, when Yuri went off to go see his tutor, and Otabek went off to do whatever the hell it was he did in the mornings before he hit the rink.

“You’re used to the noise?”

“Yeah, but…I think I like the quiet too.”

Or: Yuri spends the summer with Otabek in Almaty.

Part 2- Line and Verse: 

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Yuri was once told that the best stories have no ending. Otabek has never had a problem in turning the page and beginning a new. Together, they write new chapters.Prequels, sequels, and oneshots from the "From Almaty With Love" universe.

Lame-Ass Handjobs by martialartist816

Rating: Explicit

Type: Series

Part 1- Something More Involved than Lame-Ass Handjobs: 

Chapters: 1

Words: 3,792

Otabek is too damn perfect. Plain and simple. It frustrates Yuri to no end, but he loves him all the same.

Part 2- Something More Involved than Lame-Ass Blowjobs: 

Chapters: 1

Words: 3,392

A sequel fic, following how Yuri and Otabek celebrate first and second place at the Cup of Canada.

Eyes Like a Soldier by emblems

Rating: General Audiences

Type: Series

Part 1- Run in My Veins:

Chapters: 2

Words: 1,602

Fifty sentences for Otabek Altin and Yuri Plisetsky.

Part 2- Play to the Fullest: 

Chapters: 1

Words: 1,699

Yuri suggests they ditch the banquet early. Otabek, of course, can't find it in himself to say no.

Notes: I read this series when my brother was getting his first tattoo. Pretty neato.

OtaYuri A/B/O Series by i_like_my_eggs_benedict

Rating: Explicit

Type: Series

Part 1- You’re Worth It: 

Chapters: 1

Words: 8,173

"Yuri Plisetsky hated heats. Everything about them. The confusion, the mess, the inconvenience. But most of all he hated feeling vulnerable, like a wounded animal left on the side of the road. He bemoaned the fact he had presented as an omega every single day of his life. Even more so when he was in heat.He only slightly stopped feeling complete and utter contempt for his biology when Otabek Altin presented as an alpha. 

Part 2- In The Moonlight: 

Chapters: 1

Words:  2,491

A sequel to You’re Worth It.

Notes: Omegaverse AU.

Nothing More Than What We Have Now by Ren

Rating: Explicit

Type: Single-chapter

Words: 2,819

"Just kiss me," Yuri murmurs against Otabek's lips.

Otabek's whole body is drawn tight with want. "It's never just kissing with you."

Notes: Quiet sex while Grandpa is in the other room. ;)

Multiple Pairings:

Yuri on Ice Omegaverse by DomesticProwess

Rating: Explicit

Type: Series

Part 1- No Man’s Land 

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Presenting as an omega was one of the single most traumatizing events in Yuri Plisetsky's life. As he struggles to move forward with his relationship and career, he learns that coming to terms with himself and his past is harder than he ever would have dreamed. AU take on life after the Grand Prix Finals.

Part 2- Love or Something Like It

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

Present. Bond. Pregnant. Repeat. The cycle of an omega that Yuri had hoped to never fall into. He was given no choice.

A companion piece to my story No Man's Land, in which Yuri is bonded with Victor as a young omega and has his first child at the age of eleven.

Notes: CONTENT WARNING FOR UNDERAGE, RAPE/NON-CON, CONTROLLING/ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS, AND MORE. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

ice gays by LuckyStarship & MikeWritesThings

Rating: Teen & Up

Type: Multi-chapter

Chapters: ONGOING

Words: N/A

There's an esteemed academy dedicated to ice-skating somewhere in Alaska. It's open to all nationalities, religions, and more. A certain group of students has a group chat entitled 'ice gays.'

It's Mila's idea.

Notes: Texting/group chat format.

And that’s it so far! I will be updating as possible. Once again, if you have any fic recs for me that I should add to my list, please message me!

[samiholloway]

I have a complicated relationship with summer. I don't do well with heat and excessive light, so I spend most of the summer hiding from both. On the other hand, this is when swimming is an option and when the garden and everything else is most productive. Spring's allergies are gone, but fall, my favorite season, hasn't come yet. Summer in the South lasts a really long time and June is barely the start of it. 

It always weirded me out that the Solstice is also called "midsummer", even though this is just the beginning of it here. 

But I'm in the middle of a project of trying to like the seasons for what they are, so as part of my celebration of summer, here's a five-card reading for you all!

NATURE'S LAW (R) - LIGHT - ORDINARY WORLD (R) - SYNCHRONISTIC - AIR

Which means:

Nature's Law is the way the world works independently of humans and their ideas of how it should work; since it's reversed, it means there's an issue with it: either things are not acting naturally, or that's not where we should be focusing. Maybe both, as in, things aren't working because we're looking in the wrong place.

Light is a good card to draw today, the longest day of the year, when we'll be getting the most literal light we'll ever get. This card means everything shining and outward: happiness, activity, movement, the ability to see things as they are before we run into them, not being heavy, not being dark. It tells you to get out there and do stuff and know things.

Ordinary World means the world before the quest--where things aren't necessarily great, but you don't know that yet. The fact that it's reversed means that maybe you do know it now: this isn't the world you started in, and the fact that this is literally a reading for the world makes that interpretation even more pointed. The point of the quest we're all always on is to figure out what we're going to do with that knowledge.

Synchronistic is a cool card: it means the way things that need to be together seem to magically just come together. You find out what you need to know at just the right moment. You find yourself in the right place at the right time. The people you need to know appear in your life right when you need them. It's a card for chance and happenstance, but the sort that's on your side, the sort that's like a gift from the universe.

Air is the card for mental pursuits: talking and communicating, singing and telling stories, thinking and learning. It's about being light and not tied down to more practical things so that you can form the really good ideas. It's a creative card.

All together, this is a pretty good set for a solstice, one about moving forward and learning new things, about things changing and new things moving into place. There's a little bit of a warning in Nature's Law being reversed, and in combination with Ordinary World being reversed, maybe we should look out for stuff we normally wouldn't expect this quarter--probably storms or metaphorical storms, since it's these two cards. Acting and doing and learning and taking advantage of new opportunities never did avoid shaking up the world, though.

And some questions to ask yourself this longest day of the year:

What is your relationship with heat and light like? Is there anything you can do to make it better? More useful for what you want to do in your life?

What are your absolute favorite summer activities? What can you do to get more of those out of this summer?

What would your ideal summer look like? What's keeping it from looking like that and what can you do to make it closer to that?

What do you have ripening on the vine? It's not harvest time yet, but what have you been working on that you hope will give you big rewards? Is there a way you can keep it going well?

Where are you shining your brightest these days? Is it where you want to be shining?

Happy Solstice!

- For more posts like this, consider giving to my Patreon, linked below! I'll be doing spreads between the ones I do here for my Patrons!

- Today's Change: Now is the perfect time to lighten up and get shining; you're in control of where you put that energy, so where will you put it?

You can get my books on Amazon here!

You can find me around the web here:

Twitter - Instagram - Pinterest - Incidental Twin Polish Shop - Gumroad - Tumblr

And on Youtube myself and with Joy for (un)Professional Fangirl

[valaid]

extractedsoul replied to your post: it’s seriously so weird to have stitches in your...

Say waht? X’D it is honestly a weird feeling

I can’t wait for them to go. Today it’s been 7 days and they started yesterday, so hopefully soon. We celebrate midsummer on friday, so I hope they’re gone then so I can eat properly XD

*huggles*

[cynthiajayusa]

Chaz Bono: Acting Out

As a radical right-winger on last year’s American Horror Story: Cult, a far cry from his own liberal leanings, Chaz Bono had his breakout role at the age of 48. Why did it take so long for Bono, who just happens to be Cher’s transgender son, to make his mark as an actor?

Because Bono was often in conflict with the female gender of the person he was playing but didn’t know why.

At least not at first.

Then, suddenly, his interest in male roles changed more than just his acting career – in 2009, the activist transitioned from female to male. Years later, in 2016, Bono followed a recurring role as Reverend Rydale on The Bold and the Beautiful with a foray into Ryan Murphy’s American Horror Story anthology, first on Roanoke and then on the prolific TV creator’s grisly Trump-era Cult.

Here, Bono opens up about why understanding his gender identity was the long first step to acting again, the “bizarre” possibility of working with mom Cher and what he’s learned about LGBTQ representation from trans youth.

One of my favorite parts of you starring in American Horror Story: Cult was reading your mom’s tweets about the show.

You know, she gets confused a little bit. (Before I was killed off) she was in Vegas, and she and her best friend Paulette did a binge of the show, but they didn’t know I had gotten killed already, so I think that was a realization. She tweeted me about that and was like, “Was this on yet?”

WATCH:

What was it like to be part of a show that is steeped in total conservative radicalism with a cast that is so LGBTQ-oriented? The contrast is so ironic.

Yeah, it was interesting, ’cause I would say, for me, I had two very distinctive experiences on the show. The first part of it was what you just said: very steeped in a lot of people in the community, and then those who are just incredibly open-minded. But then all of these guys come in and I started spending all of this time with all of these young actors and extras, and it suddenly became a different experience. That was the first time for me that I started to feel like I was in a cult, and started to experience what that feels like and the comfort it brings.

Are you saying you could understand the appeal of a cult?

I could understand the appeal a little bit, yeah. I’m somebody who keeps up with the news obsessively, but there was something really nice about when I’d go to work, turning my brain off and being with a bunch of younger actors who were really exuberant, like this full-on, testosterone-driven experience of all of us hooting and hollering and just waiting on every word that Evan (Peters) would say as (cult leader) Kai. That group mentality is very – I understood how it could be very seductive at certain times.

I found it seductive too, but I couldn’t figure out how much of that was because the guys were so hot.

(Laughs) Well, yeah, that didn’t really do it for me, but some of the guys were really great actors. We got along really well, because I’ve done a lot of theater and I’ve been at my acting studio for five years now. I’m used to being around younger actors because I haven’t been incredibly successful in my career, so I’m around young actors all the time, so I feel very comfortable and know what it’s like to be the new guy, because that’s how I felt last season (on Roanoke). We kind of all bonded (on Cult), and it was just this really strange experience, like this group mode mentality. And you know, we were obnoxious. It definitely became a presence on set – and, I mean, I think I was maybe less obnoxious because I’m 48. (Laughs)

Why have you purposefully avoided playing trans roles?

It’s really a twofold thing. First of all, I really consider myself a character actor, and I really like playing parts that are very different from myself. That’s what I enjoy about acting, that’s what’s fun for me, and I think it’s what I’m really good at.

I don’t really have any interest in playing a trans guy because I don’t want to play something that’s close to me. If I wasn’t trans, I probably would wanna play a trans person because that’s the kind of actor I am, but it doesn’t interest me that much because I’ve seen so many actors that I know who are trans playing trans parts and I wanted to try to establish myself as not that. I wanted to show people that that’s just a ridiculous thing and I didn’t want to get pigeonholed, so I just waited and took small stuff here and there that wasn’t that because it’s just not the career that I want.

While working for GLAAD as entertainment media director in the ’90s, you were a consultant on Ellen DeGeneres’ sitcom, Ellen. Considering the show’s lead, Ellen, is gay, what did it mean to be a consultant on that show?

I looked over scripts. I was doing a lot with them as far as – there was a tremendous amount of press and hoopla around the coming out stuff. We were working to coordinate a lot of that stuff for her, and then doing a lot of press because she did so little. So, picking up a lot of slack. I was actually on one of the episodes right after the coming out episode, which was fun, and just kind of there for them. It’s so long ago that I just remember always being there and always organizing shit around that.

She’s a lesbian, so she knows how to portray that (laughs). But there were other questions that came up about other stuff related to the community and little specifics here and there about being a lesbian. You’d probably be surprised to find out that – because one of my good friends is the guy who handles all trans stuff for GLAAD, and so I know this – about the number of calls that he gets from actors, writers, producers and people who want to get it right.

You hear stories from celebrities who don’t necessarily want their child to go down the same showbiz path they did. Was that the case for you growing up?

No, not at all. My mom was actually the one who got me into acting. I was 14 and a really miserable kid in middle school, not relating to other kids at my school and just really unhappy, and my mom made me go to an acting class. I was kind of like, “Oh god, why do I have to do this?” and I ended up totally falling in love with it. Then, I auditioned for a performing arts high school and got in and moved to New York, so yeah, my mom has always been incredibly supportive of creative endeavor.

Regarding your sexuality and gender identity, I know you’ve gone through a lot with her.

She has evolved a lot!

WATCH:

She’s getting the pronouns right these days?

She does get the pronouns right. Now she just gets mixed up and calls me my brother’s name. (Laughs)

Ha! Well, every mother does that.

Yeah, right! But yeah, she’s been supportive. For me, I didn’t know that I was trans at the time, but it was the issue that made me stop acting. I knew that I couldn’t play women. And I didn’t really know why at that point. I chalked everything up to being gay and masculine.

When did you come to the realization that you couldn’t play female roles?

I was 18. I was a senior in high school and I got cast as a male in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, our big senior production at performing arts, and it was the first time that I really felt like I knew what I was doing and felt comfortable and was really good. It was like, “OK, why do I have a handle on playing a middle-aged man? Why is that easier than playing a teenage girl?”

Did you process this on your own? Did you talk to your mom?

No, I didn’t process it on my own. And I couldn’t – I wasn’t out to my mom. My mom did not handle the coming out thing well, so no, trans wasn’t there yet and what I knew was, OK, clearly as a working actor I wouldn’t be able to go out for these parts. But this was the first time I really loved acting and it didn’t feel like a struggle. It was fun and joyous and “wow.” Honestly, it didn’t really strike me until I started to realize I was transgender and looking back over my life for evidence when I was in that fact-finding part of the journey of trying to figure it out.

It’s a weird thing, because on the one hand I try to emphasize that being transgender doesn’t affect my acting at all, which it doesn’t – I’m just an actor who happens to be transgender – but what it did affect was that, unfortunately, I started doing what I love so late in life because it happens to be a profession where you have to be comfortable and in the right body to do it.

I imagine now you’re hustling for roles.

Always hustling.

What’s next for you acting-wise? Will we see you on this year’s season of American Horror Story?

I don’t know. I mean, yeah, I’ve got little projects and stuff that I’m working on, but that kind of stuff takes forever. I’m hoping to have a better pilot season than last year and, yeah, we’ll see.

Are you interested in self-financing and self-directing? Have you collaborated on any projects with your mother?

No, I haven’t collaborated with her. Yeah, that I would probably do. That would be so bizarre, but I think she’s very talented (laughs). But I don’t have any interest in directing. I’m just not a very visual person, but I do have an interest in getting projects off the ground and producing. I produced a play out here – a Lee Blessing play called Down the Road – and I would probably do more.

As GLAAD’s former entertainment media director, are you encouraged by the increase in trans representation in media? What do you see as far as trans representation goes?

It’s really interesting because I facilitate a group once a month with a bunch of other people for an organization that I’m on the board of. It’s a big organization with lots of moving parts, but I facilitate a group for trans youth, and so we had a conversation recently and all these trans kids – basically middle school through college – were talking about representation. It was interesting to hear from them, because as an adult with a long life growing up in the ’80s where there was – forget about no trans representation, there was no gay or lesbian representation – my feeling is, “Wow, we’ve come so far.”

But, listen, these kids they were like, “God, why am I not seeing X,Y and Z? I’m not seeing this, and I’m not seeing that.” It was a really interesting perspective to see because, yeah, we’ve come a long way, but there’s still a long way to go. And the people who need to see themselves reflected in media really badly are not getting their needs met. The number of trans youth just seems to be growing vastly and they are not seeing themselves represented, and when they are, it’s the same story. It’s always about figuring it out and transitioning and they’re like, “I don’t want to see that anymore. I want to see a trans person in sci-fi. I want to see a trans person in fantasy. I want to see trans people represented in the kind of stuff that I like. I’m not seeing that.”

Is that something you want to see as well?

Honestly, it’s not something I think about that much. My life is so much about my acting career, and so what I want is to just get more work (laughs), so it’s hard. And when I think about politics or that kind of stuff, there is, to me, just so many bigger fish to fry. It’s been so long for me since I needed to see myself reflected in anything that you forget, so it was an interesting lesson. Because I don’t need to see myself reflected. I don’t need to relate to a character because they’re trans. If I were to say all of the things that I am, trans is at the bottom of my list, so it doesn’t affect my life in any way. It’s just a thing. It’s not a part of my identity at all.

Does the fact that last year we elected trans officials, such as Danica Roem of Virginia, excite you?

Yeah, totally, that was amazing. That was awesome. That was a little bit more exciting, but I have to say I also get excited about any person that is a minority – that is the first person to get, in this climate, ahead.

So, any people of color, people of Muslim faith, anybody who is marginalized. Because at this point in my life, I see us all as the same thing. I really don’t differentiate. To me, I’ve evolved to the point where we’re all the same, and I think if everybody could get there we’d be such a very large, strong majority. So, I was really excited by all the women who took office, and there was a woman of color who got elected where that had never happened before, so all those milestones were exciting for me.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/02/07/chaz-bono-acting-out/ from Hot Spots Magazine http://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/02/chaz-bono-acting-out.html

[readbookywooks]

How I Fell In With The Curate

After getting this sudden lesson in the power of terrestrial weapons, the Martians retreated to their original position upon Horsell Common; and in their haste, and encumbered with the de'bris of their smashed companion, they no doubt overlooked many such a stray and negligible victim as myself. Had they left their comrade and pushed on forthwith, there was nothing at that time between them and London but batteries of twelve-pounder guns, and they would certainly have reached the capital in advance of the tidings of their approach; as sudden, dreadful, and destructive their advent would have been as the earthquake that destroyed Lisbon a century ago.

But they were in no hurry. Cylinder followed cylinder on its interplanetary flight; every twenty-four hours brought them reinforcement. And meanwhile the military and naval authorities, now fully alive to the tremendous power of their antagonists, worked with furious energy. Every minute a fresh gun came into position until, before twilight, every copse, every row of suburban villas on the hilly slopes about Kingston and Richmond, masked an expectant black muzzle. And through the charred and desolated area--perhaps twenty square miles altogether--that encircled the Martian encampment on Horsell Common, through charred and ruined villages among the green trees, through the blackened and smoking arcades that had been but a day ago pine spinneys, crawled the devoted scouts with the heliographs that were presently to warn the gunners of the Martian approach. But the Martians now understood our command of artillery and the danger of human proximity, and not a man ventured within a mile of either cylinder, save at the price of his life.

It would seem that these giants spent the earlier part of the afternoon in going to and fro, transferring everything from the second and third cylinders--the second in Addlestone Golf Links and the third at Pyrford--to their original pit on Horsell Common. Over that, above the blackened heather and ruined buildings that stretched far and wide, stood one as sentinel, while the rest abandoned their vast fighting-machines and descended into the pit. They were hard at work there far into the night, and the towering pillar of dense green smoke that rose therefrom could be seen from the hills about Merrow, and even, it is said, from Banstead and Epsom Downs.

And while the Martians behind me were thus preparing for their next sally, and in front of me Humanity gathered for the battle, I made my way with infinite pains and labour from the fire and smoke of burning Weybridge towards London.

I saw an abandoned boat, very small and remote, drifting down-stream; and throwing off the most of my sodden clothes, I went after it, gained it, and so escaped out of that destruction. There were no oars in the boat, but I contrived to paddle, as well as my parboiled hands would allow, down the river towards Halliford and Walton, going very tediously and continually looking behind me, as you may well understand. I followed the river, because I considered that the water gave me my best chance of escape should these giants return.

The hot water from the Martian's overthrow drifted downstream with me, so that for the best part of a mile I could see little of either bank. Once, however, I made out a string of black figures hurrying across the meadows from the direction of Weybridge. Halliford, it seemed, was deserted, and several of the houses facing the river were on fire. It was strange to see the place quite tranquil, quite desolate under the hot blue sky, with the smoke and little threads of flame going straight up into the heat of the afternoon. Never before had I seen houses burning without the accompaniment of an obstructive crowd. A little farther on the dry reeds up the bank were smoking and glowing, and a line of fire inland was marching steadily across a late field of hay.

For a long time I drifted, so painful and weary was I after the violence I had been through, and so intense the heat upon the water. Then my fears got the better of me again, and I resumed my paddling. The sun scorched my bare back. At last, as the bridge at Walton was coming into sight round the bend, my fever and faintness overcame my fears, and I landed on the Middlesex bank and lay down, deadly sick, amid the long grass. I suppose the time was then about four or five o'clock. I got up presently, walked perhaps half a mile without meeting a soul, and then lay down again in the shadow of a hedge. I seem to remember talking, wanderingly, to myself during that last spurt. I was also very thirsty, and bitterly regretful I had drunk no more water. It is a curious thing that I felt angry with my wife; I cannot account for it, but my impotent desire to reach Leatherhead worried me excessively.

I do not clearly remember the arrival of the curate, so that probably I dozed. I became aware of him as a seated figure in soot-smudged shirt sleeves, and with his upturned, clean-shaven face staring at a faint flickering that danced over the sky. The sky was what is called a mackerel sky--rows and rows of faint down-plumes of cloud, just tinted with the midsummer sunset.

I sat up, and at the rustle of my motion he looked at me quickly.

"Have you any water?" I asked abruptly.

He shook his head.

"You have been asking for water for the last hour," he said.

For a moment we were silent, taking stock of each other. I dare say he found me a strange enough figure, naked, save for my water-soaked trousers and socks, scalded, and my face and shoulders blackened by the smoke. His face was a fair weakness, his chin retreated, and his hair lay in crisp, almost flaxen curls on his low forehead; his eyes were rather large, pale blue, and blankly staring. He spoke abruptly, looking vacantly away from me.

"What does it mean?" he said. "What do these things mean?"

I stared at him and made no answer.

He extended a thin white hand and spoke in almost a complaining tone.

"Why are these things permitted? What sins have we done? The morning service was over, I was walking through the roads to clear my brain for the afternoon, and then--fire, earthquake, death! As if it were Sodom and Gomorrah! All our work undone, all the work---- What are these Martians?" "What are we?" I answered, clearing my throat.

He gripped his knees and turned to look at me again. For half a minute, perhaps, he stared silently.

"I was walking through the roads to clear my brain," he said. "And suddenly--fire, earthquake, death!"

He relapsed into silence, with his chin now sunken almost to his knees.

Presently he began waving his hand.

"All the work--all the Sunday schools---- What have we done--what has Weybridge done? Everything gone--everything destroyed. The church! We rebuilt it only three years ago. Gone! Swept out of existence! Why?"

Another pause, and he broke out again like one demented. "The smoke of her burning goeth up for ever and ever!" he shouted.

His eyes flamed, and he pointed a lean finger in the direction of Weybridge.

By this time I was beginning to take his measure. The tremendous tragedy in which he had been involved--it was evident he was a fugitive from Weybridge--had driven him to the very verge of his reason.

"Are we far from Sunbury?" I said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What are we to do?" he asked. "Are these creatures everywhere? Has the earth been given over to them?"

"Are we far from Sunbury?"

"Only this morning I officiated at early celebration----"

"Things have changed," I said, quietly. "You must keep your head. There is still hope."

"Hope!"

"Yes. Plentiful hope--for all this destruction!"

I began to explain my view of our position. He listened at first, but as I went on the interest dawning in his eyes gave place to their former stare, and his regard wandered from me.

"This must be the beginning of the end," he said, interrupting me. "The end! The great and terrible day of the Lord! When men shall call upon the mountains and the rocks to fall upon them and hide them--hide them from the face of Him that sitteth upon the throne!"

I began to understand the position. I ceased my laboured reasoning, struggled to my feet, and, standing over him, laid my hand on his shoulder.

"Be a man!" said I. "You are scared out of your wits! What good is religion if it collapses under calamity? Think of what earthquakes and floods, wars and volcanoes, have done before to men! Did you think God had exempted Weybridge? He is not an insurance agent."

For a time he sat in blank silence.

"But how can we escape?" he asked, suddenly. "They are invulnerable, they are pitiless."

"Neither the one nor, perhaps, the other," I answered. "And the mightier they are the more sane and wary should we be. One of them was killed yonder not three hours ago."

"Killed!" he said, staring about him. "How can God's ministers be killed?"

"I saw it happen." I proceeded to tell him. "We have chanced to come in for the thick of it," said I, "and that is all."

"What is that flicker in the sky?" he asked abruptly.

I told him it was the heliograph signalling--that it was the sign of human help and effort in the sky.

"We are in the midst of it," I said, "quiet as it is. That flicker in the sky tells of the gathering storm. Yonder, I take it are the Martians, and Londonward, where those hills rise about Richmond and Kingston and the trees give cover, earth-works are being thrown up and guns are being placed. Presently the Martians will be coming this way again."

And even as I spoke he sprang to his feet and stopped me by a gesture.

"Listen!" he said.

From beyond the low hills across the water came the dull resonance of distant guns and a remote weird crying. Then everything was still. A cockchafer came droning over the hedge and past us. High in the west the crescent moon hung faint and pale above the smoke of Weybridge and Shepperton and the hot, still splendour of the sunset.

"We had better follow this path," I said, "northward."