#a real shame because up until the very last 30 pages or so I was fully on board and hooked

[lazyypumpkin]

I need someone to explain the ending of the magic toyshop for me. I have been searching in vain on the internet for an explanation that might make me like it more. Like, I don’t mean the fire, I mean the rest, it was foreshadowed but like jesus christ why. Also what happened to Melanie’s brother. Also why didn’t they just murder uncle Phillip,, like it’s a book, anything can happen, why not just poison the bastard and be done with it. Also what a bleak ending,, Melanie feeling like she feels fated to marry Finn almost like she has no agency at all but people are saying that the ending is hopeful?? Either I just don’t get it or this book was not for me

[multiversalsapph]

hey, angel!!

if you’re a shifter or even just find interest in the topic, this is the page for you!! i welcome all, no matter the level of experience or knowledge you may have.

first thing’s first, this is a shifting page.

“what is shifting?” you may ask.

↳ shifting is the process of tuning into your awareness (or consciousness) within another reality.

most people believe in the premise of shifting based on two main theories: the consciousness theory and the multiverse theory. i personally believe in the multiverse theory, but you’ll find a small portion of shifters who believe in the prior, and that’s perfectly okay! i won’t be explaining here, but there’s plenty of info and comparisons a quick google search away in the meantime.

i’d like everyone who interacts on this page to feel as welcome as possible, so here’s a quick guide to interactions with my page:

any expressed ableism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, pedophilia, sexism, harassment, instigation, etc. is NOT tolerated on my page and will result in an immediate block with no grace. of course, if you genuinely did not know better, i’m glad to educate or provide a second chance!! however, persistent behavior receives a persistent block. if interactions are severe, you may be added to a DNI list.

no question is a dumb question!! we all start somewhere. i, myself, had a few questions with (what now seems) obvious answers when i first started out, so there’s no shame in asking!

quite the expected one, but anti-shifters dni

if you do not like the content i create or the things that i post, feel free to scroll or block!! let’s not waste each other’s time.

do not make fun of or belittle others in my comments, reblogs, dms, etc. if it is found out that you are taking part in this you will be blocked. this page was created to foster a safe place for beginners and experts alike, and i’d like to keep it that way.

spam likes and spam reblogs are welcome!! i don’t mind :)

do not openly share personal information on this page!! part of making this a safe space is keeping each other safe, so please refrain from sharing your or others’ phone numbers, emails, addresses, specific places of living, names, family, alt accounts, etc where it can be easily seen by the general public. ANYONE can interact with this page, so please be mindful of the info you release!

about me!!

you can call me sapph!! i’m 16, in my junior year, and identify as a lesbian. i first learned about shifting in 2020, but brushed it off until march of last year. i started attempting to shift on april 28th, 2021. i experienced intense symptoms nearly every time i attempted, but didn’t fully shift until early july, 2021! all in all, it took a little over two months for me to fully shift for the first time.

unfortunately, i did not stay in my DR very long because it overwhelmed me, and ended up forcing myself to shift back to my OR after less than a minute of being present in my dr. if my timing was off, maybe a little over a minute if i was lucky. i’m still bummed that i backed out so quickly after trying so hard to get there, but i’m glad i recognized that i needed to be more prepared!! i won’t go in depth right now but i can make a post about my first shifting experience if you’d like me to!!

realizing that it was really real and being there was a little…terrifying, to be honest. that fear and overwhelming sensation made me weary about shifting for months afterward and i realized it was holding me back from allowing myself to shift fully during the mini-shifts i was experiencing. my DRs changed often and still do, so staying focused was and is a bit of a problem for me.

i took a long break from shifting in the beginning of this year (2022) in hopes of recharging the parts of me that i had drained and started fresh in late spring. (i apologize for the lack of precise dates, my memory isn’t the greatest). i’ve mini-shifted around 30 times since, and was incredibly close to fully shifting last night. however, i hadn’t slept in 20 hours, so i passed out from how deep the meditation had become, even with the mass of symptoms i had LMAO

okay, okay, i’m rambling. let’s move on.

my DRs

as of august 18th, i’m currently focusing on these realities

stranger things: takes place the summer before will goes missing. i’m jonathan’s twin sister and will is our little brother!! i’ve gotten memories from this dr (which i believe is possible because of my experiences with dr memories in the past!!) and randomly recall moments i’ve had with different people from it, kind of like deja vu. this is where i nearly shifted fully to last night!

fame dr: self explanatory but i’m an actress!! my parents aren’t famous, even though that’s a commonly scripted DR attribute amongst fame shifters. i have been close to shifting to this dr once, and gained one vivid childhood memory involving my dad’s surf shop in southern ca. i would offer a story time, but there’s not much to say about it. also, these memories i’ve gained ARE NOT SCRIPTED SCENARIOS!! they are situations that i have remembered after something triggered the memory.

other DRs i’ve scripted, have attempted to shift to, mini-shifted to, or plan to shift to:

sam and colby dr

hogwarts 5th year

teen wolf

fall dr

hocus pocus

boarding school dr

twilight

h2o

mcu

the space between us

tvd

wonder woman

band/drummer dr

travel dr

medieval or royal dr (undecided, i just want to frolic through a field in a big dress)

opposite sex dr (to relieve my wonderful gender dysphoria whenever it chooses to attack LOL)

it (2017) (minus the clown… should i just call this a losers club dr or??)

and like 7 million others

to conclude

this page is here to document my journey, share what i’ve learned, my experiences, and everything in between. if i’m going to be anything, i’m going to be real. ask about my almosts, my nots, my failures, anything. (it’s 1:11 as i type this!!)

if there is something you’d like to ask, have questions about, want specific details on, or yk, just anything, feel free to message me through DM or asks!! i have no idea how to go about intros, so hopefully this was okay. that’s all for the time being.

thank you for reading and i hope we can pursue our journeys together!! <3

[mozak-hh]

Genshin impact headcanon:

How they find out they’re in love with you

I was just listening to, “love songs,” by Kaash Paige and I got really imspired to do a cute little headcanon. I would recommend listening to the song while reading this cus it is a major vibe ;)

Pairings: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, albedo

Songs to vibe to for the headcanon lol

Zhongli:

Zhongli’s not used to feeling puppy love, those feeling are beneath gods. Especially after all of his years alive, he thought love was something that had run its course. In his earlier centuries, perhaps, but never now.

After meeting you for the first time, he grow fond very quickly of your childish remarks and youthful attitude. It refreshes him to know that not everyone is made of stone. And after your first encounter he goes out of his way to bump into you more and more often.

This usually disrupts your tasks with Childe, so he is the first one who catches on to Zhongli’s little interest in you. Childe will often bicker with Zhongli about it, but instead of snapping back Zhongli will just act oblivious about it.

Zhongli isn’t the type to think extremely deeply about things, so I don’t think he’ll have trouble accepting his feeling about you. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be surprised, and it might take him a while to really figure it out.

He goes back to the place you first had lunch with him and steals collects the cup from where you sat, holding the fragile price of antique in his hand and turning it slightly, inspecting it. He then circles the brim with his thumb, sighing and putting in his pocket. He then puts it on the shelve in his office. Looking at it time to time.

Further on into your friendship with him. Zhongli finds himself idolising your form and appearance. Caressing you hair when you hug him, lifting the stands to his face for a closer look, you’ll never know that though.

He’ll offer his arm to you when you walk around the harbour with him. Letting you wrap you hand around it while talking about your latest discoveries in Liyue. Rest your head on his shoulder and you may hear him suck in a breath. Trying to compose himself. It’s not everyday gods get attached to humans. So when it does happen, you can expect them to be way more possessive than the average significant other.

Albedo:

this man is quite awkward with his feelings ok? he could write a 30 page essay on the essence of human life but not one sentence could describe the way he thrives when your around him. 

he would see you walk past the alchemy shop everyday, smiling and talking to the shopkeeper. Before he met you he wouldn’t think to much about it, but after the events in Dragonspine, he grows fond of staring at you outside the shop window, leaving his notebooks and research to sit idly and gaze. On some occasions he may even draw you, search through his notepad the next time the two of you meet and you might find out how many pages exactly he has of you. 

the first ones to catch on to his little antics is his apprentices, Sucrose mainly. Though she wont pry too much, as Albedo would often call her ridiculous for thinking such things, she’ll giggle every time she sees Albedo at the window. Knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

One day, while you are staying in Diluc’s tavern, Albedo goes wondering around the stalls in Mondstadt, buying flowers from the little girl near the gates. using his magic he evolves them into luscious blooms of colour, and begins his trek to the tavern. It is only once he reaches your room door does he realise what he’s actually doing. This is when it hits him. That perhaps you are worth more to him than his hunger for knowledge. He lets the flowers drop to floor. So many months of drawing your figure and longing for the taste of your touch and now he’s too scared to even knock on your door? he slouches and walks back to where he came from. Not bothering to pick up those beautiful flowers left behind. It is when you finally open your door to get fresh air do you almost step on them. Noticing their other-worldly hue, you knew only one man would have the kind of abilities to make these.    

A week goes by, and you and Albedo are up in Dragonspine once again to do research on more artefacts he collected. He treads lightly in the snow, gazing at the way your eyes light up as you talk. he then flinches slightly when he feels your warm hand reach for his own, and you look up at him with a smirk. “The flowers where so beautiful, it’s a shame you didn't bring them to me yourself,” you then lightly kiss his cheek and walk off, leaving him a blushing mess in the cold.  

Diluc:

Diluc is known to have little to no interest in women. Much to people’s dismay, this man has no intention of marrying a women so they can steal his money. That is until he met you, of course. 

With him money has no limits, so expect to receive many gifts during your nights out with him, or seeing him after he’s been away on business. Whether that be an embroidered lace from fancy stores, or a jade necklace all the way from Liyue, Diluc will show you a world of luxury. 

Diluc will always place you beside him at dinner parties or fancy ball. Since he’s been surrounded by vicious women his entire life, it calms him to know you’re right beside him. 

there is always a room in the tavern for you, whether you need it or not. The bartenders on duty always know you are allowed to stay after hours, and the drinks always come free of charge. 

After a month or two of receiving these perks, you grow tired of seeing so much of Diluc’s purchases, but never enough of the real him. So you seek him out at his winery. 

you have no luck finding him however, so you opt for waiting in his office until he eventually shows up. While you wait, you notice a large stack of letters, all of which have your name on it. 

Elegant, handwritten love letters. Each and every one of them. Telling you how beautiful you are, and how your smile is always on his mind. In fact, everything about you is edged into his memory, all these gifts you receive having some sort of connection to reminding him of you. The fact that when you wore the dress he bought you last week, it took him days to shake the heat from his body, the longing to touch you. 

After an hour or so of reading these letters, your face is completely red. And as soon as you begin to calm down, the red haired gentleman strides thought the door with a fat stack of papers he needs to sign. You jump from your seat, letters falling out of your lap and down to the floor as you do so. He takes one look at the papers surrounding you, and immediately know what they are. Perhaps if he had been brave enough to send these to you, he may of not been this embarrassed. 

“As much as I am glad that you finally understand my emotions surrounding you, I would have been more keen to have spoke them to you in person. But that can wait for now. How about you join me for dinner?”

Kaeya: 

This lover boy is actually very helpless when it comes to real love. After exposing himself to the elements of your personality, he falls head over heals for you. Possible one of the toughest men to come to term with their feeling to be honest. His flirty and obnoxious behaviour deceiving him in the end. 

Kaeya would prefer to see you in the morning. Having coffee before work with you is his personal favourite. It is these genuine outings that he loves most. Unlike the occasional nights of pleasure he has had beforehand. With you, he feels his heart is more precious to you, not his body. As many women would eventually go with a one night stand with the lesser brother of a rich man, than to have conversations with him over a cup of coffee. 

On a more positive note, Kaeya will start to recruit you for more and more missions just to enjoy your company. It wont be long till people start to assume you are his personal assistant for the knights. Seeing you accompany him on everyone of his outings. This is where you start to use his office.

The both of you slowly start to share the same working space after a few weeks of being on his team. Memories in his office are some of his fondest when it come to you. staying in and having dinner with him after a long day at work. Sharing stories with him during those mountains of paperwork. Joking with him during work breaks. More importantly, comforting him after heavy battles. 

When Kaeya starts to act more like a puppy around you, it is Diluc that teases him bout being a fool in love, and this is what causes Kaeya to finally understand it. Like a break in the ice. All of these months devoting his time to you, never to act on his feelings because on uncertainty. But know he knows he has you, and unlike many of these other women, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

Kaeya sits impatiently at the local café, tapping his finger on the table as he glows a light shade of pink. Once he’s sees you coming towards his table, his blush sharpens as he stumbles to grab the flowers he bought you beforehand.  

aaaand there! Another genshin headcanon, sorry such the long wait. I’ve been pretty busy at work :p comment if you have any suggestions x

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

The Adventurous Eaters Club

Hi buddies!  Welcome to the first post of yet another project I have chosen to take on because I apparently don’t enjoy sleep in any form. 

To make this even more FUN, let’s do a THING (just in time for #RACultivatingKindness and the Random Acts Food Equity initiative)

One hundred percent of author proceeds from Misha’s cookbook go to charity, including the following: The Edible Schoolyard The Garden School Foundation Whatcom Farm-to-School Fund

One week after each blogpost I do for this little adventure, I will count up the notes on that post and donate $1 per note to one of the above, or to @randomactsorg​.  

If you make a donation to any of these (in any amount!) or buy Misha’s cookbook and send me the receipt in my asks I will match your donation AND you can pick the next thing I cook!

[I say this like I have clout here, but hey why not feed some people, do a little good, and make this interactive!]

With all the preliminaries aside, let’s cook some chicken, under the cut! 

(warning: the photos below the cut contain pictures of raw chicken in case that is a “ew” trigger for anyone.  just warning ya)

Mix ‘N’ Match “Fried” Chicken (page 169)

This is a baked fried chicken tender recipe with three different spice mixtures (for those with children, the intent is to introduce them to diff flavors and also make them less fearful of food with ‘specks’ (or speckles, as L calls them)).

**The first thing I said reading this was “Dammit Misha!  Am I just casually supposed to own a meat mallet?” (does everyone? have I missed out on the meat mallet trend? fallen behind the curve of cool culinary utensil ownership? *hangs head in shame*)

First things first, I’m going to go rogue and tell you that after you cut your chicken breast into tenderloins (or open the package of pre-cut ones), you should salt your meat for at least an hour before cooking it. 

Like so:

pre-salting meat allows it to be seasoned from the inside as well as the outside (the salt will absorb), and also helps lower the risk of overcooking.  I promise it makes a HUGE difference.

While the chicken is salting, set up your dredging station.

This is the point in the process where I realized I am out of eggs.  However, I did have the following substitutes: 1. mayo and 2. half and half.  So what did I do? I mixed them (Misha I’m SORRY).

I am also sorry to you who is reading this post for having to look at photos of mayonnaise and half and half on this fine day.  

But! this does work in a pinch.  You basically need something runny enough to dip but thick enough to stick to the meat.

Also, here is another place Mish and I diverge - he kept the “wet” pan as a single one on the station, but I know how messy I am (in both cooking and life), and due to there being three separate spices in the recipe I divided it into three, so as not to mix it.

[somewhere Jake Abel has been summoned to make a few, um, jokes about this...composition]

Next, the “dry” station - i.e. your flour/spices.  The book uses pie pans for all of this, I - a prepared individual who did not assess not having ANY uniform cookware before starting this cooking blog journey - only had one pie pan, so these are what I used:

team free will 3.0

here they are with spices for each separate one.  do not fear the cinnamon.  I too, was once afraid.  trust me when I say you will no longer be shackled by your doubt once you have tried this.

also, I went rogue again on the last spice mixture which should just be paprika but I did not have paprika (OP check your pantry before you do the next installment of this challenge), so that is the combination I recklessly replaced with it (and I recommend it!!!).

spices plus flour plus salt (for the love of Jack always add salt at each step, I cannot re-emphasize enough that this is so very important, like Sam and Dean hotel room warding important).

Mix ‘em up.

sigh I can already tell my colors will not be as vibrant as the book’s (I know you, you’re thinking ‘OP you just mixed mayo and half and half, and THIS is the crime you are sad about?? but. here we are).  

Next, Misha says to wrap your chicken in plastic wrap.

no, I don’t know why mine is green.  let’s pretend its for Soldier Boy.

time to use the meat mallet which I do not have.  however, in a pinch - a cast iron skillet will do.  (the book also very much advocates for owning one of these and I too am a Cast Iron Truther.  the only pan(s) I use).

meat mallet cosplay.

now,“smash that meat until it’s 3/4 of an inch thick.” 

this takes approximately 30 seconds to a minute with the cast iron (longer if you have pent up aggression).  it’s not a REQUIRED step, but nice for an even cook.

take your flat chicken and start dredgin’ - flour first, just a thin coat

on each side

now take it for a trip to the half and half mayo hot girl summer pool party (or, if you are a real adult unlike yours truly, the eggs you have and previously whisked together for your “wet” pan)

[stop that thought this is a blog for a children’s cookbook]

let the excess run off before sticking this back in the dry mixture for a second coat, then put it on your pre-greased pan.

like so.

what my kitchen looked like at 1:00 a.m.

final touch = the moment I knew Misha, Vicki, and I were kindred spirits as I too like to drizzle melted butter over everything and anything.  

drizzle this liquid gold on top of each piece and

pop those babies in the oven at 350 for 20-30 minutes while you write bad fan fiction sentences (well, what I did then anyway)

then slice ‘em up and put them on this plate.

Yes I added popcorn for garnish as a treat.

My colors as predicted are not as good as the professional food photographer’s Misha’s:

But the flavors were definitely there!! Especially the cinnamon.  Would 10/10 recommend.

Happy cooking!  Asks are open if you have questions or want to yell at me about the mayo thing.  SORRY AGAIN OK

[canadian-riddler]

idk if tumblr ate my ask but. if it did, 30 (obsession) for the riddler or scriddler?

Tumblr says, ‘your other ask was delicious, nom nom nom’

I says, ‘even if it hadn’t this is taking me a really long time because the music I’m listening to has made me too hype to write with any speed at all’

AO3 :D

‘Obsession’

Characters: Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma [Scriddler]

The first time Jonathan saw him was on the front page of the newspaper.  He could say with absolute certainty that was the day it started. 

Before that day Jonathan would have been first in line to declare there was no such thing as a human being that was so attractive that one could not control themselves.  It was poppycock, he insisted.  Anyone who allowed something as primal as hormones to waylay their every thought was a weakling and a fool.  Jonathan had looked upon a lifetime of people and had never so much as done a single double-take.

The newspaper was in a browbeaten metal box next to a bus stop.  It was locked and the only access was either by key, vandalism, or coin.  Jonathan obviously did not have a key, the location made it difficult to vandalise, and he was loath to pay for absolutely anything.  But one of those three he needed choose, and he justified the third by telling himself it was a small price to pay to get the newspaper into his hands and thus have physical evidence that the man pictured there really was not so beautiful as his memory was bound to recall him.  He tucked it under his arm and did not look at it until he was safely home, and he discovered he was correct: he was not so beautiful as he recalled.  He was even moreso.

Jonathan put the newspaper into his desk drawer and failed not thinking about it.  Every single minute of every single day was haunted by the image of the beautiful man printed upon its face.  He could not sleep for the thought of it.  His lectures at the university, already marred with his general disinterest with being there, were now riddled with pauses and repetition as his thoughts unravelled even while he was speaking them.  He was well-known to the staff as a solitary and unpleasant creature, so his constant inquiries as to the man in the newspaper were met mostly with confusion and dismissal.  He was disgusted in himself for the asking but he could not stop.

Until the night he no longer had to, for he entered his apartment to find Edward there within it.  He stood in the doorway to his bedroom motionless and thoughtless and directionless.

“Well,” Edward said, his voice beautiful and direct from his lips to Jonathan’s ears, “you wanted me.  Here I am.”

Jonathan had never put a single neuron into concluding what Edward must have smelled like, but all of the ones available were thinking about it now.  He had no name to put to the man’s subtle scent other than ‘perfect’.  And he was draped casually across Jonathan’s desk, which would doubtlessly cause it to sink into the wood and remain there long after he left as an olfactory spectre which Jonathan would find himself unable to escape.

His hair was in that god-awful tousled style that Jonathan would now never be able to see on another man without thinking of him.  It was that certain colour that was achieved only by maple leaves only on one day of the year and some of it was visible from the top of the shirt of which he had not done up the top few buttons.  Jonathan had a nearly visceral need to see the rest of it, and whereupon it ran down his torso, down towards his artfully concealed genitals.  Jonathan’s own were filling with a steady heat it was already too late to hide.  Not even the rare shame threatening to wash through him was enough to convince his barely used equipment to settle back where it belonged.  For all his former conviction, it turned out he shared this carnal similarity with all those he had debased after all.

Edward laughed.  It was condescending, and Jonathan hated that he deserved it.  Edward swung himself to sitting with his knees spread and Jonathan hated that he had done it.  “Surely you haven’t been stalking me all this time just so you could stare at me,” Edward said.  “What was your aim, hm?  Did you mean to lock me up in your basement, perhaps?”

Jonathan had indeed fantasized many times about that very thing.  About restraining him, naked, to the wall with manacles which would chafe and bruise and ruin his beautiful skin.  He would leave him down there until he was emaciated and weak and then this would all end for he would have been made ugly as all of humanity was.

Edward shook his head and twitched his wrist up to eye level.  “I’m out of time, I’m afraid.  Good talk.”  And he simply stood and left as Jonathan stared after him, his entire body rigid and unmoving.

The obsession somehow escalated from there.

His room was soon plastered with every newspaper page which contained any mention of Edward.  Any and all news stories about him were preserved on video tape.  He dreamed and he dreamed and he dreamed of Edward, and he had never before been one for masturbation, but it did not matter how often or in what way he did it for the intense sexual desire Jonathan had for him never ceased.  In the dreams Edward was always beautiful, always enticing Jonathan to come to him, but when he did his hands could not feel the shape of him nor could his mind conjure up any image of what he may have looked like beneath his clothes and he knew it was because whatever he managed to think up would be so far inferior to the real thing that it was not worth the effort to visualise.  He lost hours sitting at his desk, the scent Edward had left behind erasing all notion of time or purpose.

Then Edward began to turn up in Jonathan’s daily life.

Jonathan did not ever have to look for him.  He would simply appear at places where Jonathan was already fated to be.  Some of these places were common sense and some of them were not, but Edward appeared in all of them nonetheless.  Jonathan could not leave his apartment without scanning every person he passed for Edward.  He could not remain inside of his apartment without scanning every person who passed the window for Edward.  Night was the only time he could continue his work, and continue his work he did for he had concluded it was his only way out of this.  Edward had stolen his body and so Jonathan would steal his mind.

When next Jonathan saw him the toxin was ready.  He approached, which he had never done before.  Edward’s smile implied he had anticipated such a thing and Jonathan hated the thrill it sparked in his stomach. 

“You have something in mind today, I take it?” Edward said.  His words were the lyrics to a song no one had the skill to write.  Jonathan nodded. 

“I have a truck parked out back.”

Edward hummed in satisfaction and followed him.  Jonathan did not want to take his eyes away when he lifted himself into the bed and leaned back in it as though it were his own and not Jonathan’s, but he had to.  He had to stop this now.  He removed the needle from the glovebox and concealed it behind his back.

“What have you got there?” Edward asked.  Jonathan did not answer.  He instead climbed onto the bed and straddled Edward and pressed his left wrist above his head, at which time he -

They were so close together.  And he knew.  Jonathan could tell that he knew, but he had come anyway.  All of this together stole Jonathan’s breath and his thoughts and replaced it with the violent need to grind his body against Edward’s until the ever-present ache between his legs was relieved at last.  He glanced downward to find that Edward’s bulge was no more present than it had been before, but his was firm beneath Edward’s knowing fingers.  He turned his head aside, into his right arm, in an attempt to dissipate the ensuing moan into his sleeve, but he knew the moment he did so it had not worked.

“Something tells me,” Edward said with accursed playfulness, “that drug isn’t going to be one of the ones I like.”

Jonathan could not answer because his ability to form words had been lost with a motion of Edward’s free hand.

“You know, if I wasn’t certain that was a lethal dose of your little fear experiment, I would have gone for it.  But as it is I’ll have to refuse.  No hard feelings.”

Jonathan bent down and pressed the point of the needle against the side of Edward’s neck.  Edward did not flinch.  Sweat was beading along Jonathan’s hairline and underneath his arms and the place where Edward’s hand was still bewitching him.  “If I kill you,” Jonathan murmured into his ear, “then this will end.”

“Why would you want it to?” Edward whispered.  His breath seemed to caress Jonathan’s skin.  “Tell me, Jonathan.  When was the last time you felt this much excitement?  This alive?  You never have, have you?  That’s why you’ve fallen into this so hard and so deep.  Your work gives you purpose, but it does not give you life.  Not like I do.”

Jonathan prayed that his grip upon Edward’s wrist would not weaken and that his thumb on the plunger would not falter.

“If you kill me,” Edward went on, the sound of his voice making Jonathan helpless, “you will never know the part of yourself that I have awoken.  And you can’t have that.  Can you.”

Jonathan’s breath stalled.  Edward’s eyes glittered knowingly in the dark and Jonathan could not stop looking at them.

“Drop the needle and do what you should have done when I laid myself out so nicely for you on your desk.”

Jonathan’s body obeyed against the panicked protestations of his mind.  He was kissing him at long last, hard and desperate.  His hand had released the needle and was clenching as much of Edward’s buttock as it could grasp, and Edward was laughing but Jonathan did not realise it until he ran out of breath.  He lowered his head to the breast of the man who had broken him and left it there.  Edward’s free hand was in Jonathan’s hair, at once reassuring and condescending, and he did not want for him to ever move it.

“Oh, Jonathan,” Edward fairly hummed into his ear, “you have been fun.”  And his hand, still holding Jonathan’s crotch, clenched and twisted it with sudden violence.  Jonathan saw white and that was all he was able to perceive for a good few moments.  His resumed awareness told him he was curled against the side of the truck, and once he had regained enough of his breath he scrabbled his hand up the bed until he could push himself to sitting.  He looked over his shoulder to see Edward sitting atop the other side, and as soon as their eyes met Edward smiled and swept his legs over the side and disappeared.  Jonathan could not get up fast enough to chase him and he noticed with a start that the syringe was gone.

Days went by.  Days, and then weeks, and then months.  Edward had gone.  He had vanished.  Jonathan tore through newspapers for mention of him in between glances at the ever-on television for a hint towards his whereabouts.  He scoured the Internet to the best of his limited ability and glowered at the publicly viewable footage and photographs and words describing the man who should have been his and only his.  He fantasized about storming into the places who thought they had the right to publish anything about him, inflicting upon them their worst fears and watching as the building burned to the ground before him.  He did not purposely sleep, and the occasions he found himself doing so he woke with clothes both sticky and sweat-soaked, driven by dreams of all the things he could have done when Edward had been beneath him but had not.

It was seven months and twenty-five days later when Jonathan received the postcard.  The photograph upon the front contained nothing he recognised, but the words upon the back froze his very blood:

You want me.  Here I am.

Jonathan learned then there was something worse than lust.  The rage that rose up in him was blinding and numbing and deafening, and a scream of fury tore a strip into the back of his throat that would echo for days.  His hands, divorced from any thought at all, tore the postcard asunder into a hundred jagged pieces and his eyes did not watch himself do it.  When vision returned to them his breath shuddered and his legs weakened.  He found himself kneeling on the floor amidst the fragments, and after a moment he began to gather them together in a panic.  “No,” he whispered to himself with a horror he would never learn how to inflict upon another.  “No!” 

He tried for hours to reassemble the card, but to no avail.  The pieces were too small and too many.  He held the scrap which contained the most of the words Edward had written and clenched it tightly within both hands.  And then Jonathan knew something which was nearly as horrible as the rage had been, and that was sorrow.  His body was a rigid inward curl and he cried hot and bitter tears into his own knees, his forehead pressed into his clasped hands.  Edward’s laugh was echoing in his ears.  Even now Jonathan could not find it ugly.

The sleep that came to Jonathan then was of a sort he had not known in years, deep and black and dreamless, and when he awoke and looked upon the evidence of what he had spent months upon months buried inside of he felt nothing.  He felt nothing at all.  Edward was still beautiful, but whatever part of him had cared was no longer there.  His eyes fell to the paper scattered upon the floor. 

“No,” he said to it.  “No, I think I will wait until it is you who wants me.”

And he rose to his feet and laughed and began to think of what he would do when finally that day came. 

[betweentheracks]

Updates//Recent Inactivity

Hello all! This is me finally taking some time to sit down and offer up a rundown on how life is currently going as a means of explaining my inactivity. This is a personal post that is guaranteed to be both rambling and emotional so if that is not your cup of tea, I understand and happily advise you just skip over this post as it is not relevant to the actual content this blog was intended for.

EDITED: After reading this back I now realize this is really just me spilling the tea on my own life and is laughably dishy in details which is extremely not my usual stance on my personal privacy. But idk, it was cathartic so I'm leaving it as is despite the urge to redact 70% of what I say.

I'll start with the good news that I am officially out of lockdown and have remained COVID-19 free since my return home from the hospital. This also means my son finally was allowed to come home to me which is dazzling and exciting and also a little terrible too. He's at a precocious age where tantrums are the cool way to communicate and having been gone for so long completely thrashing his established routine has caused friction. He came home and his parent was not the same as when he left; is much weaker and less energetic than before, paler and shaky - but also there's the addition of my best friend having moved in to assist and take care of me/him while we all do our best to muddle through.

The readjustment has been rough and a lot of this week has made me incredibly thankful to have practically zero memory of how I was as a child. There have been injuries: I have been whacked in the face with the metal cover for a floor vent while dozing on the sofa instead of paying rapt attention to whatever silliness he was showing off to me, there was his complete dismissal of me asking him to stay back and away from the hot oven as I pulled lunch from it's fiery jaws only to then be faced with a toddler quickly approaching with his hand raised to touch so I naturally made a move to block him and in the process I let go of the oven door which slammed upward and clamped my arm tightly between it and the inside cavern of the oven while it was set to a roasty 400 degrees Fahrenheit - earning me a mangled arm with burns of varying degrees, and then we also had that fit where it seemed like a much more grand idea to scale the babygate cordoning the stairs and I had to rush up them to stop him from tumbling face first down two flights and of course did the falling all on my own and did it backwards then slammed painfully into the wall of the landing. This all happened within a 48hr time frame and makes me wonder why I am so catastrophically inclined.

I have bruises that range the majority of my spine courtesy of the wall and stairs, two minor first degree burns on my forearm that are in the shape of an equals and quite large despite the lack of actual pain I feel from them, and the underside of my forearm was instantly blistered then popped then melted down into a horrid glob of skin mush and sticky red-orange and is a second degree burn that I have been assured is no real cause for concern as long as I tend it with care. In all, I managed to escape my momjuries relatively unscathed and with a child that was scared senseless at having hurt his momma and is quick to listen and never stops cuddling me in the time since. Here's hoping he isn't significantly traumatized from this since exactly none of this is especially his fault and is due to my clumsy, accident-prone status in life.

So yes, The Toddler has returned home to me and after some happenings we have settled and are happy. However, his blast from the past father has suddenly just decided to reemerge after more than a year of radio silence and static and has slapped me with a custody petition. Hooray. While I have no worries on this matter due to my mother working for one of the top custody lawyers in the state and snagging him as my representation, and the utter lack of competency on my estranged baby daddy's end clearly being displayed in literally anything and everything the idiot does/says, I do have to now go through the overhaul of a custody case and that is just so weak and exhaustive. Not to mention the basis of his claims that I am not fit to raise a child are founded in my health concerns and the crazy work schedule I keep; ironically, my health is making it so that I have much less insane hours and makes this fairly moot but to each their own I guess. Also worth noting on this matter is that he only did this now because he was recently placed under penalty for child support back pay and nothing in this world matters to him like his money and this is his special way of getting one over on me for tampering with his meager earnings. (He's a wannabe musician - the soundcloud rapper sort, just so we are all on the same page here). If I thought for even a second this was a genuine desire to be an active and stable parent I would be a lot less pressed to act in favor of making it legally binding that he can only see him under a supervisory condition and share time evenly, but it just is not believable in the slightest.

So the thing is - my health is actually quite dismal presently. I'm due in for open heart surgery on the 8th of April and until then I have been doing my utmost to mind all the nagging I get from doctors, PT specialists, the surgeons that will be slicing and dicing me, and my in-family medical practitioner that sometimes remembers he is also my brother and not just an MD. But like, you guys, this surgery is terrifying and technically is two surgeries rolled into one. They'll be cracking my chest open and then stopping my heart while they lift it from where it sits sweetly unhinged and lopsided in my body and very finely shave away some of the excess muscle that has built up around the wall of my heart as well as some unfriendly scar tissue that has lingered since my last surgery years ago. Granted there is no accidental slip that nicks my ugly gargantuan heart and renders me as good as dead, once this first part is finished the other surgeon will need to be deft and very quick to place this ventricular assisting piece in the valve that has all but given up on functioning altogether and do so in the time remaining before the time limit for my heart being essentially unplugged from by body is up, which would also feasibly mean my death. Lots of exciting and terrible sounding consequences, am I right?

Well let's bear it in mind that I am just below 30 in age and therefore not duly experienced in the realm of facing down my own mortality via making all necessary legal arrangements and managing my affairs and assets so that, in event of my untimely death, the custody case still doesn't stand a chance of snatching my son away to the sad misfortune of being raised by a man that has stated openly he only has interest in his kids so far as what they can do for him/get for him in terms of benefit and that he would be unwilling to be hypocritical and never deter his children from drugs and a lifestyle of extremely questionable moral integrity and hygiene alike. Eugh. But I also have had to make sure there is a DNR in place just in case things go wrong during the operation, my will has also been finalized and notarized, all my savings and financial/material assets have been squared away to come into my child's inheritance when he is of age and, most importantly, a document that states clear and direct instructions for him to be placed in care of my mother or, if she is unwilling or incapable, he will be under custodial order and guardianship of my best friend whom he has always viewed as a pseudo-dad anyway. Legally binding and even in light of the paternity petition this document supersedes parental right by way of the provided evidence I have submitted to prove a lack of parental credibility. That's right, I spent days lowkey stalking and sleuthing about to capture what I needed to show this man for what he actually is and I have precisely zero guilt or shame for doing it; this is my child on the line and that means momma doesn't have to play by the rules of snitches getting stitches or whatever other scary street rules he tosses at me as idle threats. (He's done this routinely for all the years I have known him, and it is somehow both pathetic and hilarious because he knows for a fact that, if I wanted, I could throttle him in less time than it would take for him to form a rational thought between his drug soaked braincells - I was also a person of less than savory character not too long ago and can handle myself very well. But I digress because I am losing my track of thought.

After the surgery I will have so damn much PT and rehab, all of which will be specific to varying parts of my body that will need to be reworked and strengthened. Weeks, months of it really. This surgery is major and hits heavy enough that I will be in the hospital for at least 10-14 days just recovering from it without taking into consideration any number of complications that could pop up. Hell, if they get in there and find a situation worse than they currently have an understanding of in the limited capacity of cardiology tech can provide of such a gnarled beastly heart and realize they can't really do anything with it after all, I'll be added to the transplant list. I think this is more daunting to consider than the surgery, honestly.

In that way that doctors have about them, I was "comforted" by being informed that this was an inevitability and I would have been faced with this in a matter of years - less than a handful actually - but the way COVID-19 chewed through me sped it up. I'm sure my years of substance issues were also very helpful in this endeavor, but either way I still am unsure whether I feel better knowing this or not? Mostly I think I feel conflicted and hopeful tempered with the caution of life being super shady in the ways it has often brought me to the doorsteps of dying in situations that seem like odd chance. I also am gifted with being so capable in jinxing myself that I brought myself to COVID-19 ("The way life is going I'll probably square up with Rona next week or some bullshit." Positive test flagged within the following week) and also into labor ("Watch me go into labor on Labor Day since that would be the sort of universal pun that would strike my bad penny having ass." Indeed hatched my youngling on Labor Day of that year) by saying some things within the scope of my bad humor that instantly manifested as reality so I'm not taking any risks here lol.

The gist is that life is really stirring up the winds over here and so I haven't been online and posting anything that would make my blog valid in a fat minute. I do apologize for this and also for the fact that this post took me nearly a week to type up, but when things calm a little I will be back in full. For the time being I will be sporadic and do what I can when I can!

Thanks to anyone that read this mess all the way here! And a big thank you to all of you still supporting me!

[herstarburststories]

Batfam Headcanon: Pregnancy

✾ Request: Can I request a batfam headcanon? Batboys reactions when Kory says she’s pregnant of Mar’i. Btw love you page💕

✾ A/N: You teased me about dickkory, now you got a bible. That’s how it goes. Also, added Babs, Alfred and Bruce as bonus. And I’m glad you enjoy my work! Ps: I barely know Duke, tha’s why he doesn’t show up here.

✾ Disclaimer: Main relationship is Dick Grayson x Koriand’r. Mentions of Tim x Steph and Tim x Kon (kind of?). Check my Fandoms’ liist to see which Ships I’ll write for.

                                                  ━─┈ ✧

Dick Grayson

I'm gonna use unpublished Nightwing #30 here: he and Kory had sex when he was getting ready for the agente stuff.

Once Agent 37 is off the deal, they end up finding each other again. A bit before Dick gets shoot.

And then, as usually it is between the acrobat and the alien princess, they do it again. 

Over and over again.

She gets pregnant and finds out by the time Dick is amnesic.

Don't @ me DC would do that.

Kory flies towards Bludhaven & talks to him. It's not exactly successful. As he had said to Babs before, he didn't want his memories back. Ric was happy without Dick's conscience.

But Starfire isn't asking for her; it's about him, of course. He should be himself, he worked very hard through years to become who he truly was. But mostly, she begged him to come back because of a new addition to their lives.

Pregnant alien!!

At first, Ric Grayson doesn't believe it. Actually, part of him is aware that's true, he can feel it in the change inside his heart when he saw her; something similar to shame and adoration and excitement at once. Kory moved, talked, and seemed like someone he could love, be completely crazy about.

But he wasn't a father!

Koriand'r leaves, and Grayson is by himself again. Without his Gotham or Titans affiliates.

And, for the first time, there is no comfort in that.

He could tell she wasn't lying. Even though a part of his treacherous new mind tried to convince him otherwise.

Grayson's mind didn't know any gorgeous alien, let alone a pregnant with his child alien.

Yet, Dick felt like he had her in his veins. Just like he did with Bruce, Damian, Barbara, Donna, and the others. Tickles behind his skin, a red alarm for a memory that was long lost. But the sensation of keeping it somewhere remained inside him.

Although, when it came to the redhead princess, the warmth inside him was more intense.

Dick was going to be a father. He didn't even know his whole self and would be needed to take care of someone else. Someone small, part of him, and the legacy of the Flying Grayson's. Besides, he didn't even actually remember the mother of his kid.

didn't even remember making the kid.

He calls Bruce. Telling him to bring the antidote that Barbara was keeping if he wanted his memories back.

Not for him, not because it was the right thing, not because of everyone who claimed to love him cried for Dick to do that. Not even because of familiar senses holding into him every time he interacted with someone from his past.

But because he was going to be a father.

This decision was for his child.

When Bruce, Babs, and Damian ask why, he doesn't answer.

He remembers now, and he needs to find Kory.

It's scary, exciting, and the biggest surprise she ever gave to him-- even more scandalous than the day she fell on earth and kissed him.

A dad! He would be a dad!

Jason Todd

It all started off as an unusual ordinary day; 

Roy got himself in trouble, Jason went to help him and the little problem became a bigger situation. Roy called Kory and a few minutes later, the situation was replaced by dust and fire smell. No one died, but it was enough to make the villains leave.

In the middle of ''What the fuck they wanted?" & "Who were they?" wonders, the original Outlaws heard a familiar motorcycle's noise which made Jason huff, Roy arch eyebrows and Kory confused. 

Dick Grayson was there.

He was hysterical, blue eyes flaming with worry and relief towards Kory. Between their couple discussion and the others attempt to understand what was going on 

Were they back together? Did dick know about the outlaws' way and was sticking his nose where it didn't belong? Did the titans need kory urgently? 

Until 'pregnant' left Dick's lips, being followed by Kory's chaotic scream of "Just because I am pregnant, it does not mean I can not fight!"

Roy just had to get closer to them and explain that it would make no good to go through stressful situations, especially if he got it right. 

A deep breath would be taken, and then Dick would apologize to Kory, saying he was just really scared for both of them. She'd look at her Outlaw friends and curve the corner of her lips-- that Kory smile that translate into 'I've seen hell and chose to use its flames to warm up the cold places of my heart.'

‘’Jason, Roy. . . I am expecting a baby.’’

Meanwhile, Jason was taking off his helmet and glaring at his friends with a perplexed look on his face. Also, a slightly desire of punching Dick. Last time he had heard of their relationship, it was about both of them avoiding each other, his older brother telling him to take care of Kory and Jason calling Dick an idiot. Yeah, he had to have a chat with him later.

For now, Roy was pulling him and Kory into a group hug.

Almost felt like their old times together.

Roy: Outlaw baby!!  /  Dick: Excuse me?

Tim Drake

Okay, okay. First of all, he wasn't planning on seeing any member of his family for a quite while. Not that Tim didn't want to, he was just really running out of time. Being Young Justice's leader was a full time job, and he wanted to be excellent at it.

But things don't always pass by as they were settle to. Therefore, when a disaster happens and Conner, of all people, gets hurt, Tim is in a delicate state of mind.

Drake is smart. He knows it isn't just about Conner. It's all the small things he's been keeping since Gotham.

Not enough sleep, but a certain amount of coffee to make his hands shake when it's late enough for the sun to come out weakly. His relationship with Steph is growing with disagreements from both lives; heroic and urban. His best friend is hurt because he analyzed too much a situation instead of telling his team what to do, so they made their independent choices. A dumb mistake, the kind that Batman would be disappointed of. Tim himself was biting his own neck about it. How could he be a leader? He should be better than that.

And then, he made a call. Because of all things he might be and might not be, he wasn't Batman.

Tim had friends, and a brother that would know what he was going through.

And he knew how to ask for help sometimes.

Dick comes by as fast as possible. They go to the roof and talk it out.

"Remember that they aren't just your team, Tim," He would say, a tranquil smile on his face. It's so similar to how he explained his relationship with the Titans when Drake was still Robin years ago. "They are your family. It's impossible for you not to be affected when they get hurt or something goes wrong. But they are alive. They still trust you. They believe, and need you. You need to give yourself some credit, and do your best for them."

OF COURSE Tim is stubborn about that because Dick is Dick and he basically grew with the Titans, it wasn't the same thing. He didn't have his older brother's skills to command, communicate, etc.

It was scary.

"Yet, Tim, a lot of things are scary. But you have to keep going. For who needs saving. For yourself. For the people you love."

His tone is too sentimental, even for Dick's big brother moments.

"You need to find something to fight for. That's how you keep going, even when you make mistakes. Good news, you already have it. "

Tim: Yeah, I think so. . . You came back to the Titans? I still have access to the computers.

Dick: Yeah, no. Kind if. It's complicated.

Tim: "Complicated? Like. . . Alien kind of complication?"

Dick: "You should know about that, huh?"

BLUSHING, STUTTERING TIM. Cutting it because I already mentioned Steph, but I couldn't miss this opportunity ok.

Dick just laughs about it.

"Starfire isn't complicated, but yeah. We are still deciding if we will keep in the Titans or if we are going to Bludhaven for now."

"It sounds serious, even permanent."

"As permanent as a baby can be."

HHSHHSUSJJSIUSIE

BABY?

IS SHE PREGNANT??

Yeah, Tim was pretty wake, and shaking, and his brain felt like burning right now.

OH MY-- DICK

He was going to be a FATHER.

"YOU ARE GONNA BE A PARENT!"

But then, Dick was the older one and the best with kids.

"WAIT, SHE WILL BE HALF ALIEN. An hybrid. In nature, two different but similar species can procreate, but their kid can't have kids. Do you think--"

"Tim, calm down. Can you at least give me congratulations before talking about my unborn child's probable infertility?"

Damian Wayne

He knew Kory and Dick had been seeing each other again.

Therefore, making one of them notice his presence before showing up was necessary.

He didn't want to accidentally see profanity between his brother figure and his team's current leader, thank you.

After an obvious noise, he got in Dick's apartment.

As expected, Starfire was there.

She was standing up, and Grayson and looking at her tearful, while holding her belly.

It wasn't possible.

Grayson wouldn't be that irresponsible, would he?

Of course he would.

" So, I supposed Starfire either has a deadly bellyache, or you two are procreating. "

He is mildly fearing that Dick won't have much time for him, but that's a matter for another time.

BONUS!

Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth

Dick visits the manor with Kory someday.

He had to give the news or Batman would end up knowing anyway.

Honestly, it wasn't about that. He actually wanted to tell Bruce about his baby.

Alfred was there when they exchanged greetings, politely as usual.

‘'We are having a baby.'’

Listen, Bruce knows how to keep his emotions under his skin, but his eldest son being a father?

This must be the most real expression he has showed in years, and it's full of emotions; he is content, and surprised, and worried.

Some would say that Alfred was tearfully, but kept his posture. Master Bruce really made it. Obstacles, of course, even more than necessary at times. Yet, he was going to be a grandfather, and master Dick was becoming a father.

Gotham had a sunny day for once.

Barbara Gordon 

If it's not Kory and Babs' baby, she will be aunt Babs

Something happens, help becomes needed.

Nightwing shows up in the middle of the combat, he was in Gotham to talk to Bruce & Alfred & Damian, anyway.

Batman dispersed him, though.

And Batgirl was confused by Batman's choice, especially after listening to his explanation:

"Nightwing, this is more dangerous than our usual job. I will take Robin and Batgirl. You have more urgent thinks to be taken care of. "

The dynamic duo leaves and there is just two long time friends. 

It doesn't take a half second for Barbara to notice Dick hiding something.

Sigh, sigh, sigh.

"All right, Dick Grayson. What did you do?"

"Apparently, a baby."

????????????

"He has been ditching me since he learned about Kory's pregnancy."

"KORY'S WHAT!?"

"You didn't even tell me you two were back together!"

"You lost your virginity to an attractive alien and now she is pregnant with your child. That is. . . Surprising."

"I am really happy for you, Dick."

"Thank you, Babs. . . You know what? Maybe it's time to actually introduce you to Kory."

Communicator ringing.

"After I take care of something. Go home, dad."

[ihavethoughtsplural]

Blood and Chocolate: An Adaptation in Name Only

Previously: Section 0 - Introduction

Section 1 – The Book

Preface: The 1997 novel Blood and Chocolate is DENSE.  The paperback only spans 264 pages, but the story follows the coming of age of a dynamic and flawed female protagonist, encompasses ancient werewolf legends and laws, goes in depth into lycanthropic politics, and also features a love triangle, a teenage soap opera, a forbidden romance, and a goddamned murder mystery.

Summary: Vivian Gandillon is a 15-year-old werewolf.  A year after her father was killed in the fire that destroyed their home, Vivian is lost and grieving while her leaderless pack falls apart in the Maryland suburbs that they fled to.  Aiden, a tall, gentle human classmate attracts her attention and presents Vivian an escape from the tangled, animalistic world of werewolves.  Keeping her lycanthropy secret, Vivian begins to date Aiden, defying the laws of her people.   Vivian is pressured to break things off by her mother, her five delinquent age-mates, and the would-be leader, Gabriel. Gabriel, a 24 year-old welder, is attractive, intimidating and the object of intense romantic competition.  He, more than any other, tries to convince Vivian that her dalliance with a human is dangerous, eventually revealing that he speaks from painful personal experience. The story twists and turns, tearing Vivian and Aiden apart while pulling Vivian and Gabriel together.  In the end, through many trials, Vivian discovers that she can’t escape either her human or her animal nature, and must embrace both.  

Themes: Vivian’s central character arc finds her struggling with what she wants as opposed to what she needs.  At the opening of the novel, Vivian wants to escape the violent chaos of her pack, with its painful history and uncertain future. She finds that escape in Aiden, with his Beaver Cleaver family, his lovably quirky friends, and his sweetness and simplicity.   However, when the time comes to reveal the hidden aspects of her identity, Aiden can’t handle it.  Despite his supernatural curiosity, he cannot accept the supernatural when it presents itself to him.  His rejection sends Vivian into a tailspin of self-destruction that only ends when she accepts the love that Gabriel is offering, a love that honors all of what she is.  To ultimately find happiness, Vivian had to give up what she wanted and embrace what she needed. In addition to this, there is also a great deal of time in the novel spent contrasting the human and the animal sides of Vivian’s nature.  Her two suitors Aiden and Gabriel represent, respectively, the human and the animal. Scenes of Vivian socializing with Aiden and his human friends are juxtaposed with scenes of Vivian’s werewolf pack brutally vying for dominance.  The very title of the book is a reference to this dichotomy, Blood – representing Vivian’s animal desires, and Chocolate – representing Vivian’s human longings.   Throughout the novel, Vivian swings between these two extremes, at one point drinking herself into a heartbroken stupor over Aiden, then blacking out and waking up in her bed next to a severed hand. She tries, in her romance with Aiden, to balance her human and animal sides, but she only achieves that balance with Gabriel, a partner who also exists in the grey area between man and beast.

Highs: These are the aspects of the novel have captivated my imagination and kept this book in my collection for so long.

o   Werewolf Society:  It’s a damn shame that Klause hasn’t written more stories within this framework, because it is absolutely ripe for exploration and development.  The enormous potential here is one of the primary reasons why this book has held my fascination for so long and why I have written so much (published and unpublished) fanfiction for it.

o   Flawed Characters: No one who’s read the book will tell you that Vivian is perfect or even likeable 100% of the time, but it fits with her characterization as a grieving, lost teenager and serves to make her all the more like an actual person.  Most of the characters are like that, with their good qualities balanced or sometimes overwhelmed by their less savory sides.  It makes the fictional world feel richer and more realistic, despite the supernatural elements.

o   Consequences: The characters in this novel make real, awful mistakes, and they face lasting consequences for them.  One of Vivian’s mistakes – maiming Astrid while defending her mother, directly leads to Vivian’s ex, Rafe, getting sucked into Astrid’s revenge plot, leading to Vivian being framed for murder and the eventual executions of both Rafe and Astrid, during which Vivian is accidentally shot by Aiden.  

CONSEQUENCES!   They make the story more believable, more suspenseful, and this novel, with its cast of flawed characters, would not have worked without them.

o   Assertive Female Protagonist: Vivian is refreshingly frank about her desires, which is very noticeable in her courtship with Aiden.  Aiden assumes that he has to advance their physical relationship slowly so as to not frighten or offend Vivian, while Vivian urges him on.  She doesn’t hesitate when going after what she wants, and she’s not ashamed of her sexuality.  It’s a welcome change from the restrictions that western society places on female desire, and I’d like to see more characters like her.

Lows:  Blood and Chocolate is far from perfect, but, in my opinion, there are three glaring flaws in this book, and I would be remiss if I didn’t address them.

o   The Esme Question: The first point is one that, once seen, cannot be unseen. Vivian’s mother, Esme, is one of the women competing for Gabriel’s affections at the beginning of the novel.  It is established that they go on dates (“Saw your mother go into Tooley’s bar with Gabriel last night.” p. 18), but Klause is not explicit about how far their relationship has gone.  This ambiguity leaves open a potentially disturbing possibility:  

It is canonically possible that Gabriel had a sexual relationship with Esme and then moved on to sexually pursue her daughter, Vivian.

Personally, I can reasonably believe that Gabriel and Esme never progressed beyond idle flirting because:

a.       Vivian strikes me as the type of person who would mark her mother’s sexual partners as “off limits”.

b.       Up until just past the Ordeal scene, both Esme and Astrid are still fighting over Gabriel, implying that neither of them had really “won” him.  

c.       The possibility outlined above seems like it would be a bridge too far to be included in a YA novel, especially in the 90′s.  

Your mileage may vary.  I’ve seen reviews of the book whose negative ratings hinge on the fact that Gabriel dated Esme at all, irrespective of whether their relationship was sexual or not.  Honestly?  I can’t blame them.  If the mere existence of this possibility squicks you out, then it’s likely going to sour the ending and ruin the rest of the book for you.

o   The Age Differences: The second point is the least defensible. At the end of the novel, Vivian is 16 and Gabriel is 24.  That minor/adult 8 year age gap constitutes a “yikes” in my part of the world.  Klause skirts this by establishing that werewolf society has some stark differences with human society, namely that a 16 year old female is considered an adult by werewolf law.  This is still a rather uncomfortable detail to be included in an American YA novel, and the older I get, the more uncomfortable it becomes.

In addition to the Vivian/Gabriel age gap, there is the even wider Astrid/Rafe age gap. Rafe is Vivian’s ex and age mate, although there are reasons to assume that he is slightly older than her.  This places him somewhere in a probable 16-18 age range. He is canonically younger than 21, which makes him, according to werewolf law, not yet an adult.  Astrid has a son who is also Vivian’s age, which places Astrid somewhere in her late 30’s to mid 40’s.  In the book, Astrid and Rafe have a sexual relationship.

To be fair to Klause, this is framed in the novel as being toxic and ultimately destructive to both Astrid and Rafe.  Near the end of the story, Rafe finally realizes that Astrid has been taking advantage of him, turning Rafe, in my opinion, into a tragic victim of manipulation.  

Let me leave this segment with a PSA:

If you’re reading this and you’re underage, please don’t enter into a “relationship” with an adult.  The adults in these scenarios in the real world are predators, and they’re preying on your inexperience and naïveté.  They know that you probably won’t recognize relationship red flags and they think they can pressure you into doing unsafe and unhealthy things in the name of “love”. Stay safe, kids!

o   Sexual Harassment:   My third and final low point is one that I have very mixed feelings about.  As a result, this is the longest segment of this post, so strap in. In the novel, many of the interactions between Vivian and male characters are inappropriately sexual.  The most egregious offenders are the Five, Gabriel, and Aiden’s father. The Five, Vivian’s male werewolf peers, are crass, rude and arrogant.  Led by Rafe, they display a lot of entitlement for Vivian’s affections.  The most pointed (and gross) of these displays happens on p.41:

“You’re not Princess Wolf now,” Rafe growled behind her.  “Wait too long and we’ll take what we want.” 

That?  Yeah, that’s a direct rape threat!  Rafe also goes on to grope Vivian at her birthday party.  He’s a peach!   Gabriel’s harassment mostly takes the form of unwanted advances.  It peaks after the Ordeal, the battle royale where Vivian accidentally wins the right to be Gabriel’s mate.  In the aftermath, Gabriel corners Vivian in her kitchen, forces a non-consensual kiss on her and declares his intentions to court her.   Aiden’s father is notable in the contrast he provides.  Vivian only interacts with him once, when Aiden invites her to a family cookout. During this scene, he repeatedly leers at her, makes suggestive comments and on p. 79:

Vivian could hear the innuendo in Mr. Teague’s voice.  It made her skin crawl.

However, if you compare Mr. Teague’s harassment to Gabriel, the Five and others, you’ll find that there is a significant difference in Vivian’s reaction.  Vivian isn’t afraid to bite back at the Five’s harassment – scoring vivid revenge for Rafe’s groping when she injures his genitals.  She tries to do the same to Gabriel when he forces a kiss on her, but he relents on his own.   We see a similar dynamic when Esme snaps at Bucky, another male werewolf, who catcalls her in a bar.  This forms a pattern which suggests that forceful sexuality is a feature of werewolf culture.  Vivian confirms this the first time that she and Aiden kiss on p. 51:

“He was gentle.  She hadn’t expected that.  Kisses to her were a tight clutch, teeth, and tongue.”

And this is where my mixed feelings come in. I don’t condone the harassment that Vivian experiences, but I understand why Klause wrote it.  Any author writing inhuman characters can’t simply tell us that they are inhuman, they have to show it.  The forceful sexuality of the werewolf characters in this book is one way that Klause clearly shows that they are NOT human and serves as a contrast to the human characters.   But where does Aiden’s dad fit into this?  His harassment is milder than the Five’s or Gabriel’s, but it disgusts Vivian in a way that the other harassment didn’t.  Why?  Sexual harassment seems to be a constant feature of her pack life.  This isn’t even the only time that an older man leers at her – on p. 115, in the same scene where Esme gets catcalled:

Some of those male eyes strayed to Vivian, too, and she preened at the thought of being a threat.

That’s a far cry from the skin-crawling disgust she felt with Mr. Teague, but it’s basically the same offense.  What’s different?  We find it in a conversation with him on p. 74:

“I would think a girl like you would go out with someone older.” He winked at Vivian. Like someone your age?  Vivian thought, repelled by the man’s lack of loyalty to his son.

Vivian’s disgust stems from the fact that the man flirting with her is her boyfriend’s father.  She’s shown to welcome sexual attention from other older men, and she has no problems handling more overt harassment, but the paternal disloyalty sickens her. The overt sexual harassment is there, and if it makes it impossible for you to enjoy the book, I don’t blame you.  Your feelings are valid, and I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong.  Personally, I understand the authorial reasoning behind its inclusion, and its utility as a characterization tool, so it doesn’t prevent me from enjoying the story. Your mileage may vary.

Verdict: The 1997 novel Blood and Chocolate is flawed, but fascinating.  It sets multifaceted characters into a tantalizing world of men and monsters, where the line between good and evil is blurred into nonexistence.  It is, despite its problematic elements, my favorite book.

Next: Section 2 - Adaptation Challenges

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 18 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hieeee babies! We are so excited to share this very dramatic chapter with you! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Monday morning madness when Violet discovered that Courtney screwed up the Fashion Week confirmations.  

This Chapter: Courtney faces the music, we meet a very determined reporter, and Violet loses her shit.

***

“Hey gorgeous! To what do we owe the honor of this visit?” Alaska asked cheerfully.

Courtney stepped forward, into Alaska’s office. Even the charming decor, which usually filled Courtney with happiness, did nothing to alleviate the guilt that was pressing down on her lungs.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Shit, sounds serious,” Alaska said. “Okay, have a seat.”

Courtney sat, biting her trembling lip and taking in a shaky, shallow breath.

“They didn’t send you down here to fire me, did they?” Alaska giggled, then realized that Courtney wasn’t laughing along and grew slightly more somber, folding her hands. “What’s wrong, honey?”

She was just so nice, and it made Courtney hate herself even more.

“I...really messed up.”

“How so?” Alaska looked genuinely concerned, which only made Courtney feel worse.

“Um…” There was no way around it except biting the bullet. “I was handling the Fashion Week confirmations, but…” Courtney took a deep breath. “I missed some of the tabs on the spreadsheet, and so I didn’t reach out to people until this morning and some of them have taken other jobs.”

“You ‘missed tabs’?” Alaska repeated, her voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, I just...I didn’t see that there was more than one, so-”

Alaska sighed heavily, letting out a small, aggravated sound, before asking, “So then...okay, how bad is it?”

“Um…”

“How many people are unavailable, Courtney?”

Courtney handed over the pages in her hands, unable to look Alaska in the eye. She just couldn’t face the disappointment and anger that she knew would be on her face right now. She pressed her lips together, still trying to hold back the flood of tears, cheeks burning hot with shame, as Alaska looked over the lists.

“Jesus christ…” she muttered, then picked up the phone. “Kim? Hi, it’s me. Sooooo, there was a bit of a snafu with some of the Fashion Week staff and we need to pull names for alternates...Uh huh...Probably at least 15—...I know, I know. I’m sorry, this is...Yeah, you know what? Get me some recommendations from Yara Sofia, and I’ll see who’s working some of the shows 2 days before...Yeah, let’s make some calls and then reconvene in 30...Okay...Yeah, I get it, I’m sorry...Bye.”

“I’m so sorry, Alaska,” Courtney said. “I don’t know how I could have been so careless. But...please just tell me what I can do to help you guys-”

“I think you’ve done enough. You should go.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat and standing up. Telling herself that she just had to get to the bathroom before letting any tears fall.

Without another word, she turned and ran, racing blindly for the nearest restroom, where she locked herself into a stall and finally let herself fall apart, crying like the useless baby that she was. What was she doing in this job? Who in their right mind thought it was a good idea to trust her with so many important tasks for such a huge company? How come, no matter how hard she tried, she was just never able to stay on top of it all?

A few minutes later, she heard the door open and heels click softly as they walked towards her.

She tried to get ahold of herself, especially once she saw the houndstooth pumps under the stall door, but it was no use.

“Courtney.”

“Y-yes?”

“This sucks. Okay? And it’s gonna be a huge headache to fix, and just something we really didn’t need today on top of everything else we’re dealing with—”

“I know,” Courtney said, breath hitching.

“—but...we’ll manage. Okay? So stop beating yourself up, and just do better in the future. I know you can.” Alaska paused before adding, “You’re better than this one mistake.”

Something about her kindness, even after all that, made Courtney lose it even more. A sob escaped her chest, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Enough of this, okay?” Alaska said. “Take a minute, then wash your face and come back to my office. I have a job for you.”

***

Courtney knocked tentatively on Alaska’s open door. She’d managed to pull herself together, and though everything in head was screaming to turn and run--from this company, from this job, from the silly dreams that kept her in this country--she’d forced herself to return and face the music.

“Sit.” Alaska pointed to a spot on the sofa, where a phone and a blank notepad were lined up on the coffee table. “Violet said that we could borrow you for the afternoon, so you can help us get out of this mess. I’ve emailed you the contact info for a bunch of makeup artists and hairstylists. You need to find out their availability, and if they have recommendations. If they’re free, tell them we’ll return with confirmation and a deal memo by the end of the day.”

Courtney nodded, sitting down and eagerly getting to work, relieved that she could have a small part of the solution.

“And Courtney…”

“Yes?” Courtney looked back up at her.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not Violet,” Courtney muttered, almost as a reflex, and Alaska burst out laughing.

“Are you kidding? Violet’s been here for over a year now, but when she first got the job, that office was a mess. Everyonemakes mistakes. Trust me. The real test is what you do afterwards.”

“Thanks, Alaska,” said Courtney, looking up at her with a smile for the first time all day.

“No problem. Now get to work!”

Courtney grinned, lifting the receiver and dialing the first number on her list. It took them almost 4 hours (and a bribe from Kim’s favorite sushi place to keep everyone working through lunch), but they eventually found people for all of the positions. When they finally finished, Courtney headed back upstairs to print out all the signed deal memos and update the spreadsheet with their new staff.

Violet was gone, having accompanied Fame to a meeting at Saks, but she’d left something wonderful behind on Courtney’s desk—not one, but two Fashion Week party invitations, with a yellow Post-It note with the word “sorry” written on it.

Courtney picked up her phone, sending a text to Violet with just the word ‘thanks.’

***

Willam hated his boss.

He hadn’t always. When he first got the job at OK!, Detox had been almost like a hero to him. But as the months wore on, and story after story got tossed or ripped to shreds or cut down to a two-line caption for some stupid photo collage, the resentment had built up to the point where he felt physical anger every time he saw Detox, or his stupid face, or his hideous yellow hair.

It just wasn’t fair. Willam knew that he was a more talented reporter, and a smarter person, than anyone else on staff. But in the meeting today, Rhea’s idiotic idea about a spread on celebrity foodstagrams had gotten praise, whereas he’d gotten chewed out, treated like garbage, all for pursuing a story that Detox failed to understand. Or worse, was actively trying to cover up.

“Hey bro. You alright?” Rhea asked, poking her head in the door.

“No. And fuck off,” Willam spat, turning to his computer.

“Ooh, someone’s maaad…” Rhea didn’t take the hint at all, slipping into the office and shutting the door behind her.

“I mean it, Rhea, get the fuck out of here.”

“Awww, it’s okay. I can handle your wittle tantrum, baby,” she said mockingly. “You need a snacky? Juice box? A wittle baby nappy?”

She reached forward to tousle his hair, and he pushed her away, eyes blazing with anger.

“This is bullshit and you know it!” he exclaimed.

“Bro, it’s not that big of a deal. Just drop it and find a different story to work on.” Rhea yawned, examining her nails.

“But I’m finally getting somewhere!”

“Are you? Because you said you’d hit a dead end with that sexy lesbian-”

“Sure. Pearl was a dead end. But-”

“Tragic,” Rhea clucked. “I could have made magic with her…” She punctuated her statement with an extremely lewd tongue gesture.

“Gross. And fine, yes, she didn’t give me anything, but-”

“And Detox literally told you 5 times that there’s no story there.”

“Exactly, Rhea! So what’s he trying to cover up? He obviously didn’t like that I was getting too close to something big. You know he’s friends with her.”

“Sure...but even if you’re right, then what?” Rhea said. “Say you find some crazy dirt, you really think he’ll publish it?”

“I think that if I find some crazy dirt, Detox fucking Sanderson won’t matter. I’ll be able to sell the story anywhere.”

Rhea chuckled, shaking her head.

“Alright, but you haven’t found anything yet. So what’s your next move, champ? Because so far you’ve got nothing.”

“I got a new mark…” He pulled up a folder of photos on his computer. “Look.”

Rhea looked, head tilted, a puzzled expression on her face.

“These are just pictures of Fame. What am I looking at? You have lost it, bro”

“Look closer. See the chick who’s behind her in every photo?” Willam zoomed in on a striking but clearly camera-shy brunette.

“Okay...her assistant? And?”

“Exactly. And assistants know all their boss’s dirt. But it’s not her I’m after.” Willam clicked through a few more photos, finally finding the one he was looking for. “Bingo.”

In this picture, the brunette was nowhere to be found, but an adorable, bewildered looking blonde was standing behind Fame in a pretty little mint green dress, bogged down with bags.

“A different assistant. Hashtag who cares?”

“A new assistant, Rhea. And new means vulnerable. Trust me...that girl? Is my ticket to aaalllll the dirt.”

***

Pearl opened the door to Laganja’s office, her hands filled with boxes upon boxes of invitations to Fashion Week shows and parties.

Fashion Week was a beast, Fashion Month was a monster. Fame was traveling to London as soon as New York was over, Milan and then Paris following, the prep work to get all of that ready always a struggle. Her assistants bore the brunt of it, Fame’s expensive taste and particular likes and dislikes not changing just because she was on another continent.

Pearl however, had a job to do too. As boss in the social media department, it was Pearl’s job to decide which shows, parties and events would be worth covering for their social media, and what different employees of Galactica should show up to, to best feature and nourish their brand in all four cities.

“Ready to crunch down?”

“I was born ready, mama.”

***

“I have Fame for Raja,” Violet said into the phone, her finger was on the button, ready to patch the call through.

“Oh, sorry. Raja’s in the conference room!” Ivy was always so cheerful, and for the hundredth time Violet wondered how she did it. “She’s working on the model castings. Should I interrupt?”

Violet bit her lip. Fame hated when she was bogged down by unimportant details, but she hated it even more when decisions were made without her.

“Hang on.” Violet clicked back over to Fame. “Raja is working on model casting in the conference room. Should I interrupt?”

“Where is my fruit salad?”  

“On it’s way Miss.” Violet glanced at Courtney’s empty seat, checking her watch. She’d never understand how Courtney could be so slow at everything she did.

“Well hurry up.” Fame hung up, and the line went dead. Violet quickly pressed back to her call with Ivy, wondering to herself if she should text Courtney to speed it along with the food. Not that it would do any good. The last time she sent that message, she got a glib response along the lines of ‘I’ll tell them to chop faster.’

“No need to interru-”

“Violet.” The door to the office opened, and Fame sailed out, snapping her fingers. “Come.”

Violet hung up right away, knowing that Ivy would understand as she grabbed her notebook and phone. By the time she caught up, Miss Fame was already halfway to the conference room.

Shit. She really should have predicted this.

Fame wanted to be involved, no decision too small if it’s subject caught her attention.

Violet tried to text Courtney, a quick shoe emoji to Ivy telling her they were on their way, as she hurried along, making sure the clack of her heels matched Fame’s perfectly so her boss wouldn’t get annoyed at the dual sounds.

As they walked past the glass wall in the conference room, Violet glanced inside.

Raja was sitting at the table. She was wearing a purple silk shirt, heavy gold decorating her ears, fingers and neck, her hair collected in a high ponytail. Trixie was there too, his sweatshirt of the day a bubblegum pink number.

The table was filled with black portfolio folders, and Violet recognized about fifty model cards that were spread out amongst the polaroids of their finished looks.

Violet was just about to get in front of Fame, so she could hold the conference room door open, when she felt her stomach drop.

Right there, at the opposite end of the table, was Sutan.

He was stunning in burgundy, his entire attention focused on his sister as he was talking to her, Raja laughing at something he said.

Sutan hadn’t spotted her yet, but Violet wanted to cry. There was no way she could hide, nowhere to escape to, the other without a doubt recognizing her the minute she stepped inside, and then it’d all be over.

Violet could feel her throat close up, panic clawing at her chest.

“Miss-”

Fame turned to look at her, Violet not even recognizing that she was the one who had called for her boss’s attention.

“I-” Violet was blank. Completely blank.

“I don’t have all day, Violet.”

“I’m going to go get your food.”

“Fine.”

Violet had no idea where it had come from, but Fame turned away from her, clearly dismissing her and blessedly leaving her outside of the conference room.

“Tantan! Were you really going to come by without saying hi-”

The door to the conference room closed, cutting the sound of Fame’s voice off, and Violet did the only thing she could think of.

She ran.

Slamming the door to the office closed helped a little, but her heart was still in her throat. She checked her hair and makeup in her black computer screen, yanking off her ID card and smoothing down her dress over and over again as she walked in a small circle, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Violet?”

Courtney came in through the door, the blonde holding the promised fruit salad in her hand, and for the first time, Violet felt relief course through her body at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?” Courtney asked.

Violet was utterly screwed, but maybe, just maybe, she would be able to pull off the impossible.

All she needed was for Courtney to follow her instructions perfectly.

“Fame is in the conference room for a meeting.”

“So why aren’t you there? Is everything alright?” Courtney’s brow furrowed.

It was a fair question, but it was also a fair question Violet wasn’t going to answer.

“I need you to bring her the food, and take notes.”

“What? Are you sick?”

Violet had started to trust Courtney more and more, but she still hadn’t allowed her to even attempt to take down Fame’s rapid fire orders during meetings, forgetting something at one of those a fatal mistake.

“Go. Now. Please.”

Courtney looked at her like she was insane, but she quickly plated the fruit, grabbed a roll of silverware, her notebook and phone, and hurried to the conference room.

***

Courtney entered the conference room, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as she set Fame’s bowl of fruit down in front of her, along with the wrapped silverware. She opened her notebook, trying to find a place to stand where she wouldn’t be in the way.

Should she sit? She’d never been present in this room for a meeting where she had nothing to do but listen. It seemed inappropriate somehow to sit down beside Fame at the table, but also weird to be standing behind her, especially since the table was mostly empty.

Courtney vaguely remembered seeing assistants stand along the wall, so she did just that.

Everyone around the table was talking animatedly, Raja and Fame so firm in their opinions it almost sounded like they were fighting, but Courtney couldn’t focus on them or what they were saying.

All she could think about was Violet.

Courtney had never seen her coworker so visibly flustered.

Eyes wild, cheeks red, voice cracking.

She had looked like she was in genuine distress, and something told her that she should just forget about this impromptu meeting and go back to check on Violet.

After all, Fame could easily call her back if she needed something, right?

On the other hand, Violet had ordered her in no uncertain terms to stay with Fame, and there was a chance that whatever was upsetting her would be worse if she had the added stress of being worried about her boss. So Courtney supposed that she should just stay and do what she was told. She tried to follow the conversation about models, taking what notes she could manage. The good news was, nobody seemed to notice or care that she was there, so she assumed that her position near the door, back pressed against the wall, had been the right move.

“You’re blind.”

“It’s an opinion.”

“Trixie, not now darling. Why are all of these- Sutan where is that model I like?”

“I’m going to need a bit more information to go on if you want my help.”

“Who was that model from that latest Vogue?” Fame asked, waving her hand in the air. “The one on my desk with the red?” When her boss tossed a questioning look over her shoulder, Courtney realized that this question must be directed at her.

““I-I’m not sure, Miss?” Was this the sort of thing Violet got asked and was expected to answer? “Would you like me to go get-”

“Ugh,” Fame let out an annoyed scoff, and seemed to only now realize that Courtney was the one who was there. “Where’s Violet?”

“She’s taking care of something in the office,” Courtney said quickly, not really lying through her teeth, though the thing Violet was taking care of most of all was that she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Go tell her that if she enjoys her job,” Fame said slowly, “she’ll get back here immediately.”

Courtney hesitated for a split second before Fame snapped her fingers, adding, “Now!”

“Yes, Miss!” Courtney said, rushing from the room.

***

Violet was trying desperately to stay calm. She was pacing the office, her brain working in overdrive, her fingers tugging at her skirt.

Violet was no stranger to digging her own grave, but this was an especially deep one, and she wasn’t sure if she could get out.

Under normal circumstances, Violet would run away. She’d burn the bridge, never look back, and walk away from her mistake, but she didn’t want to walk away from Sutan.

She hadn’t lied to him, not exactly, but she still wanted to cry.

Sutan was everything she could ask for, not because he earned more money a month than Violet would in a year, even as a designer, not because of his connections and how he seemed to know everyone who was anything.

No. So far, Sutan had been perfect because of how he acted. He was attentive and kind, respecting Violet’s boundaries without any kind of fight. It felt like he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes lighting up in delight when she shared her opinion.

Violet had no idea why he seemed to like her so much, why he chose to spend time with her and he could have anyone he pointed at, pretty girl after pretty girl probably standing in line to hang on his arm, but somehow, he had chosen her.

There was no way, however, no way at all, that he’d want to continue that when he found out who she really was.

When he saw that she was nothing more than an assistant, who couldn’t even do her job right.

“Um…”

Violet turned around to see Courtney in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, Violet, but Miss Fame asked for you.”

That was it then. Violet was dead. Her plan had failed, and she had to face the music. She gathered her things, nausea rumbling in her stomach.

“I can tell her you’re sick.”

Violet looked over her shoulder at Courtney who was still standing by the door, a lock of blonde hair twisted around her finger, her lip between her teeth.

“Whatever you want,” she added.

Courtney was a ridiculously good friend, and Violet snorted, the harsh sound betraying how utterly fucked she felt.

“She asked something about a model in the Vogue on her desk, so I can just go get-”

“Jourdan Dunn?” Violet had no idea why Courtney didn’t know that, Fame actually mentioning the model by name one day when Violet had brought her a coffee.

“Great!” Courtney scribbled the name down. “If you need to go, like to the doctor or something, you should go. I’ll message you if anything comes up, or leave you alone completely if that’s what you need, just tell me-”

Violet was pretty sure Courtney had no idea what she had just offered, the blonde in no way ready to run the office on her own.

“No.”

Violet could feel green eyes on her, Courtney watching her every move.

“I’ll go.”

Violet took a deep breath, grabbed her things from the desk and said a slight prayer before she made her way to the conference room, already mourning her lost relationship with Sutan as she closed the door behind her.

***

Sutan was drumming his fingers against the table, a half finished bottle of pellegrino in front of him. He had perked up immediately when Fame had said Violet’s name, the anonymous blonde disappearing to go get her.

He had texted Violet as soon as he had gotten the email from Raja that she wanted him at Galactica, and that she wanted him there now, but as always, she hadn’t seen his message yet.

“I like your new bag, Trixie-” Sutan smiled as he looked at Trixie who had gotten up to stretch, the man looking out the window. Trixie had a fanny pack hanging off of his hip, the cut a lot like what Sutan had seen the European male models run around with over their shoulders, but while theirs was black, Trixie’s was a hot pink and completely covered in jewels.

“Very very stylish.”

“Katya made it for me.”

Sutan wondered if he was supposed to know who Katya was, but Trixie seemed to love it, and fashion was fun at it’s core, or so he had been told.

Sutan was just about to get up himself for a stretch when Violet opened the door and stepped inside, a notebook in hand, her back completely straight.

She was just as pretty as always, an art printed poplin dress in white and light blue paired with a set of elegant heels, her black hair falling down her shoulders, a golden hair clip holding it in place.

He knew that Violet was a designer, but he was pleasantly surprised, and even a little proud, that she was apparently high enough on the food chain to be needed for a meeting like this. It was impressive, only 23, and already invaluable to senior management.

“Hello-“

“Glad you could finally grace us with your presence, Miss Chachki,” Fame drawled, looking bored and kind of impatient. “I need the name of the girl from Vogue, the one with the red-”

“Jourdan Dunn, Miss?”

“Yes!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Jourdan Dunn.”

“You want Jourdan? Now?” Sutan snorted. The model had been booked for months, and while he was very good at his job, he couldn’t make magic happen just because one of his friends changed her mind. “And would you like unicorns at your show as well-”

He was cut off as Raja kicked him under the table, his twin shooting him a serious look that told him to watch his mouth.

“You want someone like Jourdan.” Sutan put it down on the piece of paper in front of him. “Noted.”

“It suits our more tropical, garden-y type of theme for the collection,” Raja picked up a few girls, moving them over and into the approved pile. “Green does look wonderful on darker skin tones.”

Trixie, Fame and Raja chatted back and forth for a bit, Sutan at first caught up in their conversation, but as they started to discuss hairstyles, he zoned out. What they actually did with the models once they were booked was not his business, and while hair could be uncomfortable to endure, it was rarely a violation.

His attention wandered, his gaze settling on something much more interesting than clip on bangs.

Violet was standing against the wall, the woman writing away, noting down everything that was being said.

Sutan tried to catch her eye, tried to get Violet’s attention, but it almost felt like she was avoiding him completely, her gaze glued to her notes.

“Violet?”

Sutan was pulled out of his thoughts as Fame called Violet’s name.

“We need a round of coffees.”

Sutan’s brow furrowed, confused. Why would Miss Fame be sending a lead designer for coffees?

He looked around the room, only now realizing that the apparently useless blonde from earlier wasn’t in attendance anymore.

“Yes, Miss,” Violet said, voice so soft it was almost a whisper, before speaking up a bit more clearly. “What can I get for you all?”

“Hmm, mint tea would be great,” Raja said.

“Can I get an iced mocha with extra whip?” Trixie asked. Violet nodded, writing it down. “Thanks, you’re an angel.”

Violet finally looked Sutan in the eye for the first time all day.

“Anything for you… Sir?”

Sir? Violet had never called him sir, her brown eyes looking at him for the first time, and that was when it clicked. Fame wasn’t sending a designer out for coffees.

“Umh…” Sutan sat up in his chair, the whole situation absolutely bizarre. “No thanks.”

Violet nodded, the tears clear in her eyes as she turned towards the door, walking slowly and precisely. To anyone who didn’t know her, she seemed perfectly calm, but Sutan knew better.

“Please, Violet, continue to move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me,” Fame said drily, before turning her attention back to the model cards, pointing. “I like her…”

Sutan sat in his chair, a little dumbfounded. Violet was Fame’s assistant? Why hadn’t she told him that before? And why was she so upset? Nothing made sense at the moment.

“Hello? Tan?” Fame snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention.

“Yes?”

“Good lord, what is wrong with everyone today?” Fame tapped on one of the cards. “I want her. Trixie, don’t you think she’d be perfect for the resort look?”

“Her chest is a little flat.”

“But look at that waist! Those eyes! Sew some chicken cutlets into the top and she’ll be fine.”

“I can do that.” Trixie made a note.

“Put her on hold, Sutan,” Fame said, handing him the modeling card.

“Are you okay?” Raja asked, her head tilted in concern as she surveyed her brother up and down.

“Yes.” [Actually. No.] Sutan swallowed, his throat feeling as dry as sandpaper. [I need a-] “I need a minute to...excuse me.”

He rose from his chair, and Fame threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Is Mercury in retrograde?”

***

Courtney jumped up from her desk when Violet re-entered. She’d busied herself with updating the schedule and ordering office supplies, but found it impossible to concentrate when she was this worried. Something was really wrong with Violet, and even though Courtney didn’t know what, she felt awful just sitting here doing nothing.

“Violet!” Courtney rushed towards her. “Please tell me what’s wrong, are you-”

“I’m fine.” Violet pushed her way past her, tears falling from her eyes as she grabbed her jacket and her sunglasses, covering herself up so quickly Courtney almost doubted that she had even seen tears fall from Violet’s eyes before she grabbed for her keycard as well.

Courtney had never seen Violet like this before, had never seen her express any emotion beyond calm professionalism or indignant anger, so Violet’s tears shook her to the very core. She also seemed to be having trouble breathing, her skin red and blotchy.

“Please Violet, tell me what’s going on,” Courtney begged.

“Everything is fucked, that’s what’s wrong,” Violet hissed, the tinge of panic back in her voice. “I couldn’t even look at him! Couldn't even-”

“Couldn’t look at who?” Courtney racked her brain. She highly doubted that Trixie could be responsible for this reaction. The jovial head of design was everyone’s best friend, and she’d seen with her own eyes how much he respected Violet. So she must be talking about that other man, the tall one. Courtney’s eyes narrowed.  

*

“Couldn’t look at who?”

“Fuck!” Violet swore as she couldn’t get her stupid jacket to close properly. Her fingers felt numb, clumsy, useless, useless just like her, her mind spiraling, her world zoomed in on the button she couldn’t even manage to close, her mother's voice ringing in her ears, the sharp tone one she hadn't heard in months.

“Violet?”

Her mother would never call her Violet, the word said with a gentle question she knew Courtney could never manage.

Violet turned around, and right there, right in front of her, was Sutan.

*

Courtney twirled to the man who was standing in the door, fury welling up in her chest.

How dare he show up here in the office? She didn’t know what he'd done to Violet, but she could very well use her imagination.

She stepped between them, arms crossed, asking coldly, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” the man said, his voice annoyingly calm. “You can step away for a couple of minutes so that I can talk to Violet.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.” Courtney squared her shoulders, showing him she meant business.

The man let out a chuckle of disbelief before giving her a patient, charming smile.

“Listen, dear-”

“My name is not dear!” Courtney said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a deep breath before trying a different tactic.

“Well, dear, I don’t know your name, but if you kindly fuck off for 5 minutes, then I’ll happily name my first born child after you.”

Courtney’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. She didn’t care, at the moment, if she got fired. She was not going to let this man intimidate her, or mess with Violet any more than he already had.

“I think you’re the one who needs to fuck off, sir. So back away right now or I’ll have to call securi-”

“Courtney.”

Courtney felt a hand on her arm, Violet’s slender fingers on her.

“Can you go get the coffees?” Violet had pushed her sunglasses into her hair, her dark eyes liquid with tears she barely managed to hold back. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked softly. She really didn’t want to leave Violet alone with this horrible man, but she also didn’t want to say no to her, not in this vulnerable state.

“Yes.” Violet pressed a sheet of paper with the coffee order into her hand. “And Miss Fame’s usual.”

“Okay. But...text me if you need anything.” Courtney picked up her phone and notepad, casting an extra dirty look at that asshole as she left the office.

[lehillwrites]

Virtual Visit: Vaux-le-Vicomte

Last spring I wrote a series of posts about virtually visiting fandom filming locations for a Travel Writing class, and since November 16th is considered "International Versailles Day" within the Versailles fandom (to commemorate the first episode airing in 2015), I thought I would re-create the post here. This virtual tour, as well as a few others, will be a part of my Capstone project to be completed next year. Enjoy!

The Chateau Vaux-le-Vicomte has been used in many period pieces, but the one I am focusing on for this post is the television series Versailles. The show ran for three glorious seasons (2015-2018) and in my opinion could have gone for another three no problem. Life in Louis XIV’s Court was filled with enough intrigue and decadence to put a modern day soap opera to shame. While the show takes some liberties, as they all do, much of what you see as the drama plays out on the screen is true. I fell down the research well after discovering the show and I think sometimes the writers actually hold back when portraying the utterly elegant madness of the time of Louis XIV’s Versailles.

Vaux itself is never mentioned by name in the show, but it stood in for many scenes that were supposed to take place within the real palace of Versailles. In the header picture it is doubling for Saint-Cloud, the royal residence of Philippe d'Orleans (1640-1701), the only brother of King Louis XIV (1638-1715). The actual Saint-Cloud no longer exists, but it is said that the beauty of Philippe's chateau rivaled Versailles' in the opinion of many visitors at the time. A fact that did not please the King.

A quick history lesson

You cannot talk about Vaux-le-Vicomte without also looking at Nicholas Fouquet (1615-1680) from whose mind the chateau sprung. Though less like Athena from Zeus because it took 20 years for Fouquet’s dream to come to fruition.

In 1641 he acquired the land and proceeded to demolish the existing chateau and cleared the village of Vaux and two adjacent hamlets. The three men who were behind the stunning beauty of the chateau and gardens were the architect Louis Le Vau (1612-1670), gardener André Le Nôtre (1613-1700), and painter and decorator Charles Le Brun (1619-1690). Thanks to the support of Fouquet, each of these men, already respected in their fields, would create an architectural, artistic and design legacy that would influence all of Europe.

Le Veu designed a chateau that worked with the gardens to enhance their beauty equally. Le Nôtre used new techniques in gardening along with his own unique designs to create the original French formal garden. Le Brun was the genius behind the lavish artwork inside the chateau, filled with mythology and allegorical figures that were characteristic of the 17th century.

Later, all three of these men would work under the direction of Louis XIV as he created his own masterpiece, Versailles, which was influenced heavily by Vaux. You see, when Nicholas Fouquet, then the Minister of Finance, held the first grand party in 1661 to showcase the completed chateau for the king, that’s when it all fell apart. He had apparently gone too far, and dreamed too big.

The writer Voltaire wrote, “On 17 August, at 6 o’clock in the evening, Fouquet was king of France; at 2 o’clock in the morning, he was nothing.” It didn’t happen quite that fast, but three weeks later Fouquet was arrested by d’Artagnan, of the King’s Musketeers, and accused of embezzling from the Crown. In reality, it had been the Cardinal Mazarin who had depleted the royal coffers, but it didn’t matter. Fouquet was sent to prison in Pignerol, where he died in 1680.

The King claimed much of the chateau's assets and auctioned off the rest. Madame Fouquet left the chateau and gardens to her son, but the domain was sold to the Marshal of Villars in 1805 after the son’s death. It was briefly renamed Vaux-Villars until after the Marshal's death when his son sold it to the Duke of Praslin. The chateau was a place of pride for the Duke, and while six generations of his family called Vaux home, maintaining the chateau and gardens simply became too expensive.

For 30 years Vaux-le-Vicomte was left empty and neglected until 1875 when Alfred Sommier purchased it at auction and began to bring the masterpiece back to life. Today, the chateau and gardens are managed by Jean-Charles and Alexander Vogué, the fifth generation in the family to do so.

What it means to me

I wish it could be possible for every film or television show to be filmed on-location, but time, space and money are always a factor. In the case of using Vaux-le-Vicomte for many scenes to represent the palace of Versailles it was not just because Versailles is only closed to the public on Mondays but also because the interior of the palace has changed drastically since the time of Louis XIV, unlike Vaux-le-Vicomte.

And so many iconic scenes were filmed here, such as when Louis XIV (George Blagdon) feverishly dances in the Grand Salon to the shock of the nobles watching, and the horror of his valet Bontemps (Stuart Bowman) who quickly has the windows and doors closed against prying eyes.

The love Bontemps feels for his King is perfectly portrayed, while the scene also shows how untouchable the King is. No one dares approach the King, not even his guards, when it is obvious there is something wrong. The nobles might be titillated by the odd display, but they keep safely outside of the salon and just watch. Only Bontemps is allowed to take control of the situation.

Historically, the fever that brought him close to death, and made the possibility of his brother (portrayed by Alexander Vlahos in the show) taking the throne, happened before the work on Versailles had begun, but it fits well within the Versailles season one plotline.

I loved that Saint-Cloud was represented, the facade at least, by Vaux-le-Vicomte because, as I mentioned, the original chateau was destroyed. In the show, the brother of the King does not have an easy time of it, similar to what we know of his life historically. That the chateau Philippe loved so dearly and put a lifetime of work into was destroyed just seems a tragic loss for history and for the man who is known as the grandfather of Europe. After all, it is his progeny who lived to become royalty in nearly all of Europe even to today, and not King Louis XIV's.

Best way to virtually visit

We are very lucky that Vaux-le-Vicomte partnered with Google to create a virtual tour experience of many rooms in the chateau as well as the formal gardens. For the long way around, go to:

Vaux-le-Vicomte website (you have the option to choose from several languages)

Scroll down and click “Multimedia”

Click “Virtual Tour”

Click “Google Street View” to go directly to the virtual tour options

Scroll down to see the two icons for the chateau or Gardens

Pick your choice

Or just use this link for the Google Arts & Culture page, scroll down and find the Virtual Tour icons.

I listed the longer way first because the Vaux website has so much wonderful information to explore before or after taking the virtual tour that it’s worth taking the long way around.

The Chateau option starts off in the Grand Salon. From there you can move around using the arrows or go directly into different rooms using the thumbnails at the bottom of the screen.

The Garden option drops you outside of the chateau. While you cannot move straight down the wide path, you can move left or right to continue forward along the side paths. The cool thing about this virtual tour? You can “walk” from the chateau all the way up the hill to the Hercules statue and look back down. (Note: The current Hercules statue is actually a 19th century copy of the original.)

I think this tour has made me want to visit in-person in ways few other virtual tours have, and at this point I have explored quite a few! I want to walk every inch of those garden paths even if my feet complain! And I want to take a guided tour of the chateau to hear about the incredible history and maybe get a few details only someone familiar with the history can reveal!

Thank you Vaux-le-Vicomte and Google!

You can watch all three seasons of Versailles on Netflix.

Source for the historical background of Vaux: the Vaux-le-Vicomte website

Other Sources: Personal screenshots, Google Earth, Wikipedia

Posted: November 16, 2020

[sellmedoves]

my college experience

College. I started college in 2016. I was excited that whole summer because I got to have a fresh start and leave high school behind me. I moved into a dorm with 3 girls I didn’t know. I chose to live with random girls that year because I wanted to meet new people. I rushed a sorority at the beginning of the school year, and I met a lot of fun and kind people throughout that week. I got into a seemingly great sorority at the end of rush week and then class began the following week. I really liked my schedule; I didn’t have any 8am classes and I didn’t have any classes at all on Friday’s. It felt like I was finally moving on and starting a new, positive chapter of my life. There was always something in the back of my mind that I felt like was holding me back, though…

I was extremely homesick. My school was only about 30 minutes away from my hometown, but I’m so close to my family, especially my mom, so it was hard for me. I have 3 half siblings, but I grew up as an only child, so it was a difficult transition from always having privacy and my own space to having to share my space with 3 other girls, random girls at that. They were sweet and I actually feel lucky that I got paired with normal people, but it was still hard regardless. I began coming home on weekends and then going back to my dorm during the week. As the first semester went on, I began to isolate myself more and I didn’t have as much ambition and excitement as I used to. By the time I came back from Christmas break and started the second semester, I lost touch with most of the friends that I made, and I felt as if I was the loneliest person in the world. I ended up leaving my sorority right before spring break, isolating myself even further.

Aside from being homesick and lonely, something else I was struggling with was a fear of gaining weight. I was terrified of gaining the “freshman fifteen” that year. I feel like I’ve always had a warped perception of what my body looks like. I’m not sure why that is. Anyways, because of this fear, I barely ate. And by barely ate, I mean I would eat one of those “on the go” sized cups of Cheerios during the day, and that would be it except for when I would go home on the weekends where I’d eat real food with my family. I would look in the mirror and I was never satisfied. I don’t want to say I had an eating disorder as I feel like it’d be disrespectful to people who struggle with life-altering eating disorders for years, but I think it was a result of genuine misery and extremely deep depression. I lost almost 20 pounds that year.

I finally made it through the year and summer began. I was able to move back home, and I got a job. I loved that summer because I was finally free from my freshman year shackles. I began to see a therapist to talk through what I went through mentally and emotionally in the past year and it seemed to have helped me for the time being. I also got diagnosed with ADD that summer which makes...too much sense. I’ve struggled in school my whole life and because of the diagnosis, I now understand why. I have over-focused ADD with OCD tendencies. I tend to obsess over and hang on to things well after others have moved on from it. I’ve been that way my whole life, and now I had an answer as to why. It also causes me to experience mood swings but the Adderall (a God send) I was prescribed helped me to control them, Anyways summer passed by quickly, and I ended up moving into an apartment with 3 girls I was friends with from high school. Sophomore year started and it was great. I was so happy, and it felt like my horrific freshman year was a lifetime ago. There are no “buts” coming about this year. It truly was a wonderful year in my life and it’s something I’ll always cherish when I look back on my hellish college experience as a whole. The next year, though, is a different story.

It’s a story I’m not going to get into. It’s personal and it involves others besides myself, but I respect their privacy and lives since we’ve moved on, so I won’t be going into detail. What I will say is that I have many regrets from this year. I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of and would give anything to go back and change them. I didn’t like the person I was that year looking back, and I still don’t understand why I began to revert back to my misery, maybe it never truly went away like I thought it did. Instead of taking it out on myself like my freshman year, I took it out on others. I now take full responsibility for what I did and the people I hurt as a result and that’s something that I feel like took me a long time to do. It was cruel and it’s something I don’t and won’t try to justify anymore. I’m proud to say that I learned from that experience and the person I was then, isn’t who I am now.

After my junior year, I got an internship working at a consulting company. I LOVED this job. I loved the people I met there and made more friends there than what felt like I had in the entirety of my college experience. Real friendships where we could actually bond over something other than just being in the same class like at school. I realized that I was much happier working in a professional environment than I had ever been at school which made me even more excited to graduate. At the end of the summer, the company offered to extend my internship throughout the school year, and I was THRILLED. I was so happy that I was going to be able to leave school and go somewhere where I actually wanted to be during the week.

My senior year started soon after this and it was just…fine. Not bad but not great either. Just fine. Like I said, I was just grateful to be able to have somewhere to go after class that wasn’t just my apartment or somewhere on campus because of my job. My job began to be where I was the happiest, but, of course, school had to FUCK me over one more time. My class schedule for the second semester was Hitler on paper. I had signed up for the maximum amount of classes my school allows students to take, and just looking at it was overwhelming. I wanted to graduate on time in May and this was the only way to do it. I was forced to quit my job that I loved, and I was devastated. I continued to work there all of Christmas break up until the very last weekend before school started. I hugged my friends at work goodbye and began what would be the hardest semester of my entire life.

When I say this is the hardest semester of my life, I don’t mean it’s been hard like my freshman year was hard. I mean that my entire life is consumed with CLASSES. I feel like I never get a break and I’m always dreading tomorrow. I miss my job, and I miss when my thoughts weren’t filled with overwhelming amounts of assignments and due dates. I guess I should say I MISSED these things actually considering that all of my classes have been converted to online because of the virus terrorizing our planet. As sick as this may sound, if I could choose any semester for something like this to happen, I’m glad it was this one. I hate that a virus that is affecting so many people had to be the reason though. I’m typing this THESIS the day after my school announced it was converting to online classes and it feels like a 10,000-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It felt like I was two assignments away from having a legitimate breakdown. This wasn’t at all how I imagined my last day on campus would be like, but…I’m (kinda) done with college. At least in person. Wow. 

I’m not exactly sure what prompted me to write this. I think I wanted to do it for myself as a way to finally let go of the of pain and anger I’ve experienced through college. I want to move on with my life now that I’m less than two months away from graduation and stop hanging on to things from the past and regrets that I’ve had that I just can’t change. I tend to act like I have a tough exterior, but behind that, there’s been a lot of pain and insecurity. Some of which I’ve kept to myself. Sometimes, I look back at that 18 year old girl who was burdened with so much sadness and cry. However, I want to let go of all of it. I have to. I also wanted people to know that not every college experience is the same and they’re not always going to be like what people tell you they are or what you see in the movies. I wish someone would’ve told me that. The lows I’ve felt throughout my time in college are things I wouldn’t wish on anyone especially young people experiencing their freedom and independence for the first time. I hope anyone that might read this who hasn’t started college or who is already in college make the most of their time there. Don’t compare yourself to others and don’t allow yourself to wallow and fall so deep into a hole that you feel like you can���t get out. Get help if you need it, there’s never any shame in doing so. I’m proud of myself for pushing through and I’m ready to start the life I’ve always wanted for myself. Thank you for making it through a 2 and a half page paper of my woes. 

Xo,

Dani

[santoteez]

The Dormant Beast - Jongho (4)

Read Part 3 HERE

Part: 4 of ?

Idol: Jongho of ATEEZ

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 4,028 (I was on a ROLL, baby)

Warnings: Slight prejudice and bullying (non-racial and it’s not body shame either), swearing and shit, Mild name-calling,  MC is a Black Female

A/N: I use certain names in this fic that are meant to be similar to real people. It’s just to add to the whole “post-human race.” For example, if this story takes place AFTER the human race expired, it wouldn’t make sense that someone like Lizzo to exist, right? Also, I wanted to change it up bc it’s fun lol. Anyways, Enjoy!

Jongho stood outside the restaurant, annoyed and tapping his foot rapidly against the pavement.

“Crescent would never be this late.” He huffed, glancing at his watch. How did he wind up in a date with Desire? Glad you asked.

The afternoon of Crescent’s attack on Rory, Jongho walked up to his locker to put his books away for the day. The minute he opened it, a letter slipped out. Opening it, he smiled, noticing Crescent’s loopy handwriting.

Can’t walk home together today.  Decided to skip town for a while. Please, don’t look for me. Don’t stop by the house either. I asked my parents to keep my whereabouts a secret. I’m sorry, Jongie. It’ll only be a few days max. I just need to clear my head on things. Shit’s getting too crazy. I won’t be alone, Clips is coming with.

P.S. à You should go on the date with Desire. It’ll do you some good to be around someone that isn’t me. Plus, I need something funny to look forward to when I get back.

Love,

Crescent

Jongho’s smile dropped, furrowing his eyebrows. What did she mean don’t look for her? Where was she going? Why couldn’t he come?

Against her wishes, Jongho sped to her house. The door swung open before he even got a chance to knock.

“Crescent owes me five bucks.” Lunar said, stepping out onto the porch. “She had faith that you wouldn’t come looking for her at least until tomorrow. I knew better.” He sat on the porch swing.

“Of course I’d come. She’s my-”

“Your best friend, which is code for the love of your life?” Lunar glanced up, amused by Jongho’s frozen expression. “I was your age once too, you know.” He said, patting the porch swing.

“I met Solar in high school. A little late compared to you and Crescent, but that didn’t make the feelings any less real.” He said as Jongho sat down. “And when you look at Crescent, you know what I see? I see the same way I looked at Solar all those years ago. That look of longing, wanting what you couldn’t have.”

“What was wrong that you couldn’t be with Mrs. Moon?”

“…She was already married.”

“What? But you said you were in high school?”

Lunar shrugged. “It was a different time back then. When it came to marriage, it was aura over age. This guy with a super-strong aura, an elephant or something, came to her house one day. Asked for her hand in marriage, he had seen her walking to and from school and wanted her for his wife.”

“And her parents just accepted some random guy who had seen her on the street leaving a high school?” Jongho asked incredulously.

“Yes, but please remember it was a different time. Beliefs were different, and because of it, people got away with a lot of things. Of course, he had to prove he was the aura he said he was, as well as proof he could care for her and other things.”

Jongho nodded. “So, if she was married, how did you end up together?”

Lunar smiled. “We started as friends. We didn’t realize when it became more. One minute it was innocent study dates, and the next we were sneaking around behind the bookcases. Word got out that I was getting too close for comfort, and her husband wasn’t pleased. He challenged me to battle, confident that a hyena had no chance against an elephant. Well, he was right. I was beaten to a pulp. He told Solar to follow him; they were going home.”

“And then?” Jongho asked, fully engrossed in the story.

“She told him no. She didn’t want to go with him. He said she had to; those were the rules, after all. She asked him what would be the point if everyone knew she wasn’t happy. She was clearly not in love with him. She stated that he should fight for someone that cared about him. Which is what I had done. So, though it took some time, they divorced and parted ways. Divorces weren’t as accepted back then, so her family shunned her, closing her out. Embarrassed that she would divorce an elephant for a measly hyena. My parents received backlash for the whole situation as well, so they wanted nothing to do with me. We did odd jobs on the weekends, sometimes living out of motels to make ends meet. To the outside world, it seemed we had nothing. But to us, we had everything. We had each other. We graduated high school, moved here to Strongville. We had a small wedding, only inviting what few friends we had. We got steady jobs, putting ourselves through college. Months after graduation, we had Eclipse. Then came Crescent. The whole point of telling you this, Choi, is that when you want something, no matter how unattainable it may seem, you’ve gotta try. There will be obstacles. There might be consequences. Even times when it seems like you’ll never come out on top. But love will always prevail.”

Jongho sat in silence, absorbing the information. “So, that’s why Crescent never mentions her grandparents. But, Lunar, Mrs. Moon and you were on the same page back then. What do I do if Crescent and I don’t see eye to eye? I’ve tried expressing my feelings before, and she shuts me down before I even get a word out. She’s always giving me excuses for why I can’t like her, whether it’s my parents, or her aura, or the stupid hierarchy. What if she doesn’t like me back?”

Lunar chuckled. “Trust me. You don’t have to worry about that.” He said, remembering the constant teasing from Eclipse. “Crescent’s her father’s daughter. Stubborn and stuck in her ways and opinions. But if anyone can get through to her, it’s you. Don’t give up on her just yet.”

Jongho shook his head. “I wouldn’t give up on her for the world.”

“I knew you’d say that.” Lunar smiled. “So, get outta here. She’ll be okay. She has two auras, and that’s two more than she’s had all her life. Let her sort things out. She’ll be back. She can’t go too long without ‘Jongie’.” He said, repeating the nickname in a mocking tone.

“Oh, and Jongho,” Lunar called out before heading inside.

“Yeah?” Jongho responded from the walkway.

“Have fun on your date.” Lunar winked, closing the door swiftly.

Just when Jongho registered what Lunar had said, his phone rang. The contact was listed as “Don’t Answer.”

“Hello?”

“Jongho! Honey, is everything alright? I got a frantic call from Crescent. She didn’t say much but told me to call you. Did you have to talk to me?”

Jongho sighed. Of course Crescent would call Desire, knowing he wouldn’t do it himself.

“Yeah, actually. Are you doing anything Friday?”

-

-

-

Now here he was, dressed uncomfortably in a dress shirt and pants with his ash-colored hair gelled back, standing outside a restaurant where the prices were bigger than the portions, waiting for Desire, who was 20 minutes late.

Just when Jongho had lost all hope, Rory’s Lamborghini Veneno pull up to the curb. Desire’s Giuseppe heels clicked onto the pavement, her emerald green dress contrasting with her fire-red hair. Her smile didn’t match up with Jongho’s grimace.

“Have fun, you two!” Rory called out, raising his eyebrows in amusement at Jongho’s expression before speeding down the avenue.

“I told you to be here at 4:30 because the reservation was for 6:00. It’s 6:45.” He deadpanned.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie! I was going to make it on time, I swear but, then I couldn’t decide between the red clutch or the black clutch. The red goes with my hair, but the black goes with my shoes. So, I brought both!” She said. She squeezed Jongho’s hand when he didn’t react. “C’mon, I’m here now! Let’s go in.”

They entered and were immediately recognized and seated despite the reservation having passed. The waiter sped to their table.

“Good evening, may I start you both off with some drinks?” He asked, flipping open his notepad. “Our special of the night is the Moet & Chandon Nectar Rose, which has been chilled on ice.”

“Ooou, that sounds good, let’s have that!” Desire said, opening the food menu.

The waiter nodded, turning to Jongho. “And for you, sir? The same?”

Jongho gave the man a baffled look. “You realize we’re like 16, right?”

“Oh, Jongho honey, age restrictions don’t apply to us! We’re the future Duke and Duchess!” Desire laughed, shaking her head. “If it’s your first time drinking, I’d suggest not ordering tequila. I made that mistake last year and between you and me, I can’t remember much about that night.” She shrugged.

“So, just because we’re a little stronger than others, rules and law don’t apply to us? Then what’s the point?” Jongho sighed. “Sprite, please.”

“Are you sure, Sir? If not the Moet, we have other options that might better satisfy your palette. A Chateau, perhaps? Maybe even our prized possession, the Dom Perignon? I can guarantee our batch is the most aged, dating back to human times.” The waiter pressed, surprised at the fact that Jongho wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to drink the way Desire was.

Jongho gave him a tight smile. “Sprite.”

“Very well, then. I’ll be back with your drinks and will take your course orders when I return.”

“I can give you some of my glass to try if you’d like? That way you don’t have to order something you’re not sure you’ll like?” Desire offered.

“No thanks, I’ll wait till 21 like everyone else.” Jongho said, opening the menu. “What are you having?”

“A garden salad.”

Jongho looked up at her. “Is that it?”

“Oh, you’re right. It’s my cheat day. I’ll order some shrimp on the side.”

“Cheat day? You work out?”

“Oh no, I’m on a diet because I bought this dress and they didn’t have it in my size so I’m gonna lose weight to wear it.”

Jongho furrowed his eyebrows. “Aren’t you already pretty slim? How much smaller can the dress be? Why couldn’t you just get the dress in your size from the portal?”

“Ugh, no! Only lower auras use the portal. High auras like us should use storefronts. Plus, I’m a 4 and the dress is a 2, so it should fit pretty soon.”

In midst of the technological advances that caused auras to become a thing, the internet evolved into the Portal. The Portal allowed for a more intimate internet experience. For instance, one who may be shopping for clothes or shoes could choose to have their order shipped to their home or a storefront like in human times, or they could choose the Portal, which opens up a large egress on location. This allowed the person to then reach in and grab their item from inside the threshold. It was popular amongst the lower auras who were intimidated from the possibility of running into higher auras and to avoid higher auras from snatching things right out of their carts, which was a common occurrence. Being friends with Crescent, Jongho knew the ins and outs of the Portal and even frequented it himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with the Portal. You can shop right from home, in your pajamas or the middle of the street and get your things right then and there.”

“Exactly, but higher auras are to be seen. Not hidden away at home.” Desire said, as the waiter came back.

“Still better than starving yourself into oblivion,” Jongho said, shrugging. “Are we ready to order?” he asked her.

“Yes! I’ll have a garden salad, hold the dressing, croutons and cheese. And an order of steamed shrimp, hold the cocktail sauce.”

The waiter nodded, turning to Jongho.

“I’ll have the top sirloin steak with roasted potatoes.”

“Will that be medium-rare?” The waiter asked, writing everything down.

“Uh no, well done, please.”

Desire scrunched up her face. “Well done? You’re killing the animal all over again, Jongho.”

“Well…it’s gonna be on my plate so, I hope it’s dead.”

“Where’s the flavor in that, Jongho?”

“The seasoning? Anyways, sirloin, well done, end of discussion. We were already late so I’m pretty hungry. Can we move this along?”

“Yes, right away, sir! Your orders will be expedited.” The waiter said, rushing off to the kitchen.

“Did you learn to eat well-done steak with Crescent? Even your parents don’t eat it like that.” Desire asked.

“How’s that store you opened last year doing, Desire? Is it seeing profit?”

“You’re changing the subject. You don’t wanna talk about her?”

“I finally took you out on a date, which is what you’ve wanted me to do for the past three years, so I’m confused as to why you would,” Jongho said, twirling his salad fork coolly. “So, about that store…”

Desire sighed, sitting up in her seat. “It’s going well, a lot of sales in-store and online, we received a purchase from Teyoncé. You know, the singer with the eagle aura?”

Jongho nodded, impressed. “I’m sure you’ll have members of the Teapot flooding in from all over to buy your products now. They idolize her so much, they follow every trend she portrays.”

“I’m excited. If we continue selling at this rate, we can open up another storefront.”

“Do you offer Portal?” Jongho asked as their food was placed in front of them. He thanked the waiter, cutting into his steak.

“Why would I do that?” Desire asked, annoyed that they were once again discussing Portal.

“Well, you’re targeting the Teapot. You know how many fans Teyoncé has? She comes from a long line of performers, starting from her great-great-great-grandmother. She has fans everywhere, from Strongville to Freehold to Cherrynight Valley. Surely, you can’t expect everyone to come to one store in the middle of Strongville?”

“Anybody who’s somebody will make it. Those who can’t will miss out.” Desire said.

“And the one missing out on money will be you. Exclusivity is for companies with seniority, like the brand on your feet. People are gonna see what it takes to even buy from your store and give up when you can easily offer Portal and have your brand all over the world. Or is Portal beneath you?”

“I just don’t think someone of my caliber should have to settle or beg for sales by lowering my standards.” She retaliated.

“What if Crescent was a fan? She can’t just walk into your store, especially with the way you’ve treated her and her reputation amongst your friends, also your fault by the way. Someone like her would need Portal. Imagine what would happen if word were to get out that you don’t even accommodate for people right here in your town? That’s the thing, though. When you become an entrepreneur, you have to be money hungry. Imagine all the sales you could be making this very minute if you activated Portal.”

The conversation died down, the pair eating in silence. Jongho set his utensils down, finishing his plate rather quickly. He sighed. He’d definitely need to stop at Patty Queen on his way home. The portion was nowhere near enough; he would need at least a burger to be full.

“What do you see in her?” Desire asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Jongho asked. He had heard her but wanted to buy himself some time before having to answer.

“Do you know how much I’ve done to catch your attention? I wear the best outfits, watch my figure, always have my hair done. I’ve wanted to dye my hair so many times, you know why I never did? When we were younger, and I was getting picked on for how bright red my hair is, you defended me. Told me that it suited me, and that I didn’t have to change it. So now, even when I want to change it, I don’t. Because you liked it the way it is.”

“That’s the problem, Desire. You’re always doing things to impress me. Impress others. Haven’t you ever thought I’d like you much more if you were just yourself? That’s what I like about Crescent, to answer your question. Someone living without an aura for that long, especially being scrutinized by the likes of you, would’ve broken down at some point. Not Crescent. She stood her ground, even when she knew you could crush her. She’s seen as weird for liking things like true crime and poetry, but that doesn’t stop her from watching documentaries or geeking over underground poets. She’s unapologetically herself, always. Doesn’t mean she’s perfect, but she’s real.”

Desire laughed humorlessly. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. Pathetic.”

“Now I’m pathetic?”

“YES. You’re pathetic! You could have this entire town eating out of the palm of your hand. You could be getting bottle service, Ferragamo shoes, thousand-dollar threads, the best of the best! But you walk around in Converse and Levi’s just like that inferiority! You’re sitting here drinking a Sprite when you were offered Dom Perignon. You’re eating burnt meat and running the school passively when you can easily be treated like a King with me by your side. But instead, you treat everyone kindly like they were your equal.  All because of that chick. What’s she got that I don’t? It’s certainly not money or strength. I’m tired of being overlooked by her. I’m so sick of it. Grow up, Jongho.”

Jongho stared her in the eye, silent at first. Then, what started as a chuckle turned into a full-on cackle.

“What’s so funny?” Desire asked.

“You know, it’s so fitting that you’re a wolf aura.  I don’t think I’ve ever met a bigger bitch.” He said, taking out $200 from his wallet and throwing it onto the table. “Tell the waiter he can keep the change. I’ll see my pathetic ass out.” He said, getting up.

“Oh, before I go.” He turned back around. “I already wasn’t interested in you romantically, but after today, you can forget about this whole Duke and Duchess narrative. I wouldn’t marry you even if there was a gun to my head. And all that whining you just did? The one that has growing up to do is you.” He said, walking out of the restaurant to his car.

“Crescent, Crescent, Crescent.” He sighed, unlocking his car door. “You owe me big time.”

-

-

-

-

Meanwhile, Crescent panted, leaning against a tree. She’d been training with Eclipse all day long, same as she’d been doing since Wednesday.

“Come on, Crescent. Again.” Eclipse said, sweat dripping down her neck and into her sports bra.

“I told you, Clips. I can’t activate the tiger aura on command.”

“And I told you, AGAIN. In order to activate your aura, you must become one with the animal. You have to feel it. You can’t just clap or jump and become a tiger or a seal. It has to stimulate your senses.”

Crescent sighed, momentarily regretting bringing Eclipse along. The older girl had done nothing but boss her around day in and day out, attempting to train the younger girl aurally.

Crescent closed her eyes, envisioning a seal in the middle of the ocean. She felt a rush of warmth against the frigid breeze.

Lunar and Solar owned a log cabin on the outskirts of town, at the beginning of the woods. It was far away enough that Jongho couldn’t sniff them out, but close enough to rush back home in case of an emergency.

Crescent opened her eyes, the usual dark brown replaced by a dark abyss, similar to that of a seal.

“Good,” Eclipse said. “Now, the tiger.”

Crescent took a deep breath, envisioning a tiger in a vast grassland. But, just like all the times before, the tiger was laying down in the grass, fast asleep. Nothing Crescent did woke it up.

She shouted in frustration. She envisioned it perfectly. What was she doing wrong?

“Okay, let’s take a break. Maybe it’s having an off day. Could it be the climate?” Eclipse asked, taking a seat next to Crescent. “But, tigers and cheetahs are kind of similar, and I can activate my aura out here just fine. But it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Together.” Eclipse pulled Crescent in for a hug.

Just then, Eclipse’s phone rang. Crescent rolled her eyes. Her phone had been going off nearly every hour since they had reached the cabin.

“Can you stop answering your booty calls? Just for ONE night?” Crescent sighed.

Eclipse smirked. “Why? Am I making you miss Jongho? Maybe he can come over after that date you forced him to go on. I heard from Rory he took her out after all. Still don’t know why you made him take another girl out.” She said, typing something into her phone.

Crescent huffed, looking away at the mention of Jongho. The truth is, she wanted to be sure Desire didn’t stand a chance. She felt that Jongho never gave much thought to the idea of him and Desire because Crescent was always around. So, she decided that isolating herself and putting them both in a situation without her would be the only way to know for sure where Jongho stood. It was a weird, convoluted plan, but Crescent wanted to be positive her feelings wouldn’t be met with heartbreak. If she returned and they were together and in love, she’d keep her feelings to herself and move on. If not, she’d confess once and for all.

“Okay…don't be mad.” Eclipse said, pulling Crescent out of her thoughts.

“No. You’re NOT leaving me here alone again tonight.” Crescent glared at her sister.

“It won’t be the whole night! Jared is a jackrabbit aura, I’ll be back in like an hour tops! And that’s if I stroll!”

“Eclipse, gross! And still, no!” Ever since Eclipse turned 18, Crescent was plagued with hearing about her sexual endeavors with nearly half the graduating class. And, being the blunt person she was, Eclipse held nothing back. There are people Crescent couldn’t even look in the eye anymore after hearing her sister’s stories.

There was an awkward silence between the two, until Crescent saw the amber glint in Eclipse’s eyes.

“Eclipse, I swear to everything I love-”

Crescent couldn’t even finish her sentence before a gust of wind ran through Crescent’s curly, auburn locks.

“ECLIPSE!” Crescent shouted, smacking her hand against the bench in frustration.

And that’s when she felt it. The tiger suddenly jumped up in her envisioning, running rampant. Crescent took off too, her eyes turning a bright amber. But something was different this time. A cheetah appeared next to the tiger. The two cats ran in unison, their astral projections blooming from Crescent’s chest like sun rays. She had the speed she needed to reach Eclipse, and that she did.

Once she was close enough, she pounced at the older girl, the strength of her tiger aura allowing her to overpower the cheetah aura of her sister.

“Why. Do. You. Keep. Leaving.” Crescent gritted through her teeth.

“Crescent. Your aura activated!” Eclipse exclaimed, completely disregarding her sister’s death mission. “But, how did you catch up to me? Tigers are fast but no way are they fast enough to reach cheetahs.”

Crescent sighed, falling back onto the dirt. “Because I’m using both.”

“Woah, wait, what?” Eclipse asked, puzzled.

“The tiger is awake, and the cheetah is right next to it. They ran together, and that’s how I was able to catch you.” Crescent said, describing the envisioning.

“Crescent, did you just hear yourself? Not only do you have THREE auras, TWO of them work TOGETHER. I’ve heard of multiple aura holders, but never have I ever seen anything like what you just did. Double aura? Dual aura?” Eclipse shook her head. Her phone rang again. She fished it out of her pocket, silencing it.

“So, if not even you know what’s going on with me, what happens next?”

“That’s the scariest part, Cres. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Stephie here! Don’t wanna make this longer than it already is, but just checking in. Jongho finally told Desire off, is anyone relieved? Anyways, please look forward to the next chapter. Happy Reading!

[themurphyzone]

Dooferella Ch 1

Summary: Heinz has to read to children at the local library as community service, but things go awry when Heinz uses a Fairy Tale-inator to spice up the story of Cinderella. Unfortunately, something malfunctions and Heinz is transported into a strange fairy tale world! Now Dooferella, he’s stuck with a long list of chores for his parents and goody two shoes brother until a summons from the kingdom’s headquarters arrives….

Ch 1: Once Upon a Time in the Danville Public Library

Musical cliptastic countdowns were not a viable way to knock out two hundred hours of community service. Monogram’s contract had been rewritten to include a Will Not Ever Co-Host with Heinz Doofenshmirtz clause, and Perry refused to cheat and add more hours onto the community service form, though he made a small concession and factored in the ten minutes of commercial breaks.

Heinz still had a grand total of 199 hours and 30 minutes of community service left.

Well, 198 hours and 30 minutes after this reading gig at the library.

Reading to children was something an upstanding citizen might do, but no evil scientist worth their salt would be doing something considered beneficial and good to society in such a public area.  

Heinz’s evil street cred was taking a nosedive, though he didn’t have much to begin with.

“CAN I PICK THE STORY, DAD?” Norm asked. “I’VE BEEN BRUSHING UP ON POPULAR CHILDREN’S BOOKS.”

“I’m not your dad,” Heinz snapped. “I really gotta fix whatever bug is causing you to say that. Besides, the story-picking privileges belong solely to the storyteller, which is me. Last I checked, the Mother Goose Corner isn’t a democracy. Not that it would matter, since kids can’t vote and stuff.”

Norm crashed through the library wall, leaving a giant gaping hole and massive amount of rubble where the entrance used to be. The head librarian made several furious shushing motions in Norm and Heinz’s direction, but didn’t look up from the thick tome she was reading.

“CAN WE READ THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD?” Norm asked as they headed to the Mother Goose Corner. “I THINK IT’S A VERY INSPIRING STORY ABOUT OVERCOMING HARDSHIP AND-“

“Last time I read you that story, you repeated ‘I think I can’ ad nauseam and prevented Perry the Platypus from hearing my spiel on the Banana Peel-inator!” Heinz retorted. “I’ll be picking the books from here, because chances are you’ll wind up stealing a catchphrase or mantra and I’ll be the one dealing with the copyright issues that come out of that…actually, making copyrights could make a good evil scheme one day. Doof-patented self-destruct buttons, bratwurst brands, and evil! I should definitely copyright evil. And suing and forcing people to shoulder their own attorney fees is also evil, so that’s a bonus! And with that kind of monopoly, I can take over and rule the ENTIRE! TRI! STATE! AREA!”

He cackled evilly, though the moment was rudely cut off when a group of middle-aged women shushed him. Heinz scowled. Their shushing was at a way higher decibel level than his cackling. At least his brand of evil laughter didn’t threaten to destroy people’s eardrums. Besides, the drummer from Love Handel was always rhythmically stamping books at the check-in and nobody complained about that.

The Mother Goose Corner was mercifully secluded from the rest of the library. A blue curtain decorated with waterfowl separated the small room from any prying eyes.

“Perry the Platypus would love this curtain. Remind me to ask someone where I can buy one of these things. Probably wrap it up and make it this year’s Christmas present. Alongside another vase. He liked the last one I sent him,” Heinz said.

“HI, MY NAME IS NORM. I LIKE SQUIRRELS AND EVERYTHING ELSE LITTLE BOYS ENJOY,” Norm greeted a young boy with a green baseball cap. The other kids quickly flocked to the edges of the mat to avoid getting crushed by Norm’s titanium posterior.

“I’m Balthazar Horowitz, but I’m trying to legally change it to Ballpit Kid!” the boy exclaimed.

“MY DAD IS TODAY’S STORYTELLER,” Norm declared. “I’M VERY PARTIAL TO THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD. HINT HINT.”

“Real subtle, Norm,” Heinz muttered. “And for the millionth time, I’m not your dad!”

Someone tugged on his lab coat, and Heinz glanced down. A little girl with puffy blonde pigtails stared back at him, rocking back and forth on her heels cutely. “Excuse me, but may I pick today’s story?” she giggled.

She was adorable, but it was the calculating sort of adorable.

When Vanessa was little, she pulled the innocent look if she wanted something. Heinz’s resolve crumbled every time.  

But since this girl was a total stranger to him, it was going to be way easier to resist.

“Nope, doesn’t matter how cute and innocent you make yourself,” Heinz said as he turned away from the girl and leafed through the stack of books by the storyteller’s chair. Thankfully, The Little Engine That Could wasn’t among their choices. “I already told Norm that I was picking today’s book and I’m not budging on the matter. Ugh, not that any of these options are any better. I don’t get how books on overeating caterpillars or uncreative ursine parents who can’t come up with better names for their kids than Brother and Sister can be engaging to kids nowadays.”

Heinz rejected five books before a tiny black shoe stomped on his hand. A pudgy hand grabbed the front of his turtleneck, and he found himself face to face with the cute little girl.

“Look, I’ll cut you some slack since you’re obviously new to the Mother Goose Corner,” the girl said casually. “But I’m going to warn you once and only once. This is my turf and I pick the stories. And don’t bother warning anyone else. The other kids won’t squeal on me. Nobody outside this room will ever believe you. Except for maybe Candace, but I have my own methods of discrediting her. Capiche?”

“Alright!” Heinz yelped, throwing up his hands in surrender. Pint-sized powerhouses were dangerous to push around, but at least Perry the Platypus was firmly on the good side. He was definitely not messing with a kid whose evil stare put the entirety of LOVEMUFFIN to shame. “You win! Just let a guy earn his community service hours in peace, kid!”

Satisfied, the girl shoved her preferred book into his face, then claimed a bean bag chair for herself. “Yay, Cinderella!” she exclaimed, as if she hadn’t just threatened him five seconds ago.

The other kids muttered among themselves, giving Suzy a wide berth as they settled on the far edge of the mat.

“Rule number one of the Mother Goose Corner,” Ballpit Kid murmured to Norm. “Little Suzy Johnson always gets her way.”

“WOW, DAD GOT FOILED AND THIS ISN’T EVEN PART OF AN EVIL SCHEME,” Norm replied.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s laugh at the soon-to-be dictator’s expense. Cause that’s gonna bode well for you in the future,” Heinz snapped as he sat down in the storyteller’s chair. “You like Cinderella, huh?”

In Heinz’s opinion, the book’s cover painted a really misleading picture of the protagonist. It contained the image of a smiling girl in a silvery ballgown, surrounded by smiling woodland critters with the Fairy Godmother and Prince Charming standing in the background.

The Drusselsteinian Cinderella was a lot bleaker, considering that the Fairy Godmother didn’t exist and Cinderella spent most of her time sobbing her eyes out over her mother’s grave. It wasn’t common knowledge that the Brothers Grimm version was adapted from the Drusselsteinian story, though they changed the ending so that the evil stepsisters were punished. The original ending stated that the evil stepsisters poisoned Cinderella at the banquet after her wedding to the prince.

In hindsight, Drusselstein fairy tales were usually designed to crush children’s dreams and traumatize them for life.

But these kids didn’t need to know that.

“She always picks Cinderella,” another girl mumbled. “We all know how it goes.”

By the time Heinz had finished the obligatory once upon a time introduction, most of the kids’ eyes glazed over. Only Norm and Suzy were paying attention.

Well, it was hard to tell if Norm was paying attention since he didn’t have facial expressions.

“Cinderella washed the dishes, fed the animals, tended the garden, swept the floor, dusted the furniture, and cooked for her stepmother and stepsisters every day and…well, you get the picture,” Heinz yawned and flipped the page, deciding to skip over the full list of chores since he was pretty sure the kids had a good understanding of Cinderella’s daily chores. “Honestly, her family isn’t even the good type of evil. They’re just jerks.”

While Heinz didn’t know of any versions of Cinderella where she was forced to pull lawn gnome duty on cold nights with only a balloon to keep her company, he didn’t think it was out of character for the stepmom.

“HER EVIL STEPSISTERS NAMED HER CINDERELLA BECAUSE SHE WAS FORCED TO SLEEP IN A FIREPLACE AMONG THE CINDERS,” Norm supplied.

“No, she doesn’t. She sleeps in a tower,” Ballpit Kid said.

“That’s too mean!” a girl wailed. “How come we call her Cinderella if it’s insulting?”

“COULD WE GET BACK TO THE STORY ALREADY?” Suzy roared, shutting up the other kids. She flopped against her beanbag chair. “Keep going, please!”  

But Heinz was already getting an idea. He put the book down and brought out the Parked Car Away-inator he kept in his lab coat. Since he’d finished this device yesterday, he hadn’t encountered a parking problem where it was needed yet. But with a few minor alterations, he could easily tweak it into something that would be more useful for this situation.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you might be onto something, Norm,” Heinz said as he switched the positions of a blue and orange wire.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT I SAID, BUT I’M GLAD I HELPED. IF I HAD A CARDIOVASCULAR AND INTEGUMENTARY SYSTEM, I WOULD BE BLUSHING.”

“We just need a more interesting medium. Cause happily ever afters get cliché once you’ve heard them a million times before. Granted, it usually ends up a happy ending for Cinderella, except in Drusselstein, but that place doesn’t lend itself well to happy endings anyway. Ah, there we go. Voila!” Heinz triumphantly held up his modified inator. “Behold! The Fairy Tale-inator!”

The Fairy Tale-inator was slightly slimmer than the Parked Car Away-inator and much easier to maneuver.

“This’ll give us a more engaging and realistic experience and make it way more interesting for all parties involved!” Heinz declared. “Besides, I forgot to bring a water bottle. I don’t want my throat to get dry while reading. I gotta keep it in good condition for my evil monologues.”

He blasted the book with his inator. A glowing blue residue clung to the cover as the beam died away. Heinz set the Fairy Tale-inator on his chair and picked up the book.

“Is that safe?” Ballpit Kid asked. “Television taught me that unnatural glows around objects aren’t a good sign.”

“Don’t worry. It shouldn’t be radioactive. You guys ready for an immersive experience?” Heinz grinned as he flipped to the first page. But instead of the moving illustrations he expected, he came face to face with a swirling blue portal. “You know, I don’t remember any portals in Cinderella. Kind of anachronistic for whatever ambiguous time period this story’s supposed to be in.”

A wind picked up from somewhere, and Heinz tucked his arms closer to his body as he shivered from the sudden chill.

“Hey, did it just get drafty in here or something? Does anyone know where the air conditioning unit is?” Heinz asked.

The wind grew stronger, sucking Heinz’s right arm into the portal like a vacuum. Heinz grabbed the edge of the book with his free hand and tried to yank it off, but only succeeded in getting his other arm stuck in the portal as well.

“Yeah, this looks and feels just about the same amount of awkward,” Heinz muttered, trying not to gasp as some unseen force tugged on his wrists insistently. “Norm, can you call Perry the Platypus for me and let him know I might be running late for the scheme tonight? Oh, and tell him there’s leftover shrimp pasta in the fridge if he’s feeling hungry. Thwarting’s not fun on an empty stomach.”

“SHOULD I SEND A DISTRESS ALERT TOO?”

Heinz scowled. “What do you mean distressed? I’m not distressed! Do I look like a damsel to you?”

Figures that the portal decided to suck Heinz’s legs and torso as well. Heinz had to crane his neck all the way back to see Norm.

His neck was gonna be really sore tomorrow.  

“Alright, so I’m a little distressed,” Heinz admitted. “Looks like storytime’s over now. Man, they better let this count as part of my community service.”

Then the world spun around him in a dizzying swirl of blue and green. Heinz screamed as the wind battered him around like a rag doll, pushing him in every direction imaginable. His surroundings blurred together, becoming an indistinguishable mess of colors with no shape or form

He was pushed, pulled, tugged, yanked, and all the other synonyms that Heinz couldn’t think of because his brain wasn’t registering things properly. The sensations couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but it felt like an eternity.

To add insult to injury, the universe decided to plop him face-first into the leftover dust and ashes of a poorly maintained fireplace.

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Symbiote Spider-Man #1 Thoughts

Tl:dr version: Screw Ahmed’s ASM annual, THIS is a black costume story done right!

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect with this book.

In spite of the back pages from editor Devin Lewis (who I am shocked to discover is about my age...Jesus) this is a title clearly existing because

a)      Venom had a movie last year

b)      Mysterio will be in a movie this year

c)       Venom is perennially popular

d)      The black suit is perennially popular

e)      There is an event coming up centred around those who were hosts to symbiotes, Spider-Man being the most famous

And as a side note the Spider Office/Peter David himself seem keen to maintain a PAD led title of some sort. No complaints from me, older creators shouldn’t be thrown away, especially one as talented as PAD.

However in this issue PAD has delivered quite frankly his best Spider-Man work in YEARS, possibly a whole decade. His 2099 book? This blows it out the water. His Scarlet Spider work, lol please.

I attribute this to 3 key factors:

a)      PAD is writing a character he honestly likes which wasn’t the case with Ben Reilly

b)      PAD is writing the character in the status quo he’d obviously prefer which wasn’t the case for 2099

c)       This being an untold tale series that’s also a mini, this title cannot be derailed by crossovers which was the case in...pretty much everything Spider related he’s written since 2005

This issue was magnificent.

It is essentially Peter David doing Untold Tales of Spider-Man but set in the Alien Costume Saga.

Untold Tales’ writing intended to evoke a bygone era (coincidentally 30+ years before its publication, just like this series) but with a dash of modernity.

This series is much the same.

The dialogue is mostly modern but leans a bit more towards the past, is happy to use editorial captions for comic references (something most modern comics are afraid to do for some reason) and is doesn’t feel all that out of place with the stories of 1984!

The same cannot be said for the art which is obviously nothing like what Frenz and (to a less extent) Leonardi were doing back then.

However even then, maybe I just didn’t notice but the art honestly seemed...okay. Considering this is Greg Land this surprised me. Maybe someone will do a breakdown to prove me wrong but I didn’t notice anything that wrong with it.

Well that is until Felicia turned up then you realize he was obviously tracing. She looked a little like Pamela Anderson to me but god knows who he was ‘basing’ her on.

The only REAL art problem I noticed was the miscolouring of Felicia’s hair. She was a regular blonde as opposed to the platinum blonde she is supposed to be, but you could just say that was artistic licence.

Though it becomes harder to ignore since she’s supposed to resemble another blonde woman earlier in the story. I guess she was platinum blonde too?????

ANYWAY, the story itself is solid.

It’s a Mysterio character piece first and foremost and you can tell PAD loves this character a lot. I was worried it was going to be another origin for Mysterio contradicting his canon one but it wasn’t. It honestly felt very much like a story we might’ve gotten from back in the 80s had anyone been that interested in Mysterio.

It brings up the good point that, IIRC is entirely true, that (at least at this point in time) Mysterio never killed anyone and has him have a crisis when he inadvertently leads to a woman dying.

Honestly the main problems with this story were the woman arguably getting fridged and how maybe lame the set up for it was. She was literally introduced, established as having a family and axed within the same scene. Okay that scene plus Felicia concluding the costume was alive. I guess you can No. Prize it away but it seems kinda weird that neither Peter nor Felicia brought up how she called it right that day. Maybe they just forgot. Also maybe it was a bit of a continuity error that Felicia calls out Peter for being angry that she doesn’t accept his normal life. Then again I think you could massage continuity to make it fit.

Speaking of Felicia PAD likes the character, PAD likes this era for her and for the series (no shit, this was around the time he began writing Spider-Man so he’s very much at home here) and along with Spencer and Marvel over all he seems to be throwing Felicia much love now Slott is done abusing her.

Unlike in Ahmed’s shitty ass Annual last year Felicia is on point here and entirely within character (love her flirtation) with PAD throwing us a moment that I’m sure must’ve happened off panel at some point but we never get to see it.

Felicia basically confronting the ghost of Uncle Ben. PAD nails the tension between the Peter/Spidey/Felicia love triangle but does it correctly. Too often people oversimplify that she simply wholesale rejected his life as Peter Parker when the truth is whilst that was Felicia’s initial reaction, she did TRY to accept that side of Peter.

Going to Ben’s grave formally meeting Aunt May (she’d previously done so in costume) does that. She likes Aunt May, she’s sympathetic towards Peter (she lost her Dad too remember).

This is good drama no one ever milked!

Plus it, along with many other moments in the issue were just funny, you could tell PAD  was having a good time and he’s a witty writer in general.

I think a key component of this issue’s success is that it’s well researched. I’d somewhat forgive PAD for not re-reading the Alien Costume saga since it was around the time he was working on Spider-Man, but apparently he re-read both trades collecting the Alien Costume Saga and you can tell.

Unlike Ahmed who clearly didn’t read these issues because he made blatantly obvious mistakes, apart from the teeny tiny nitpicks I mentioned NOTHING in this issue is out of place.

And I know because I double checked!

Numerous times I thought I’d spotted an error.

-          Aunt May knowing Peter dropped out of college

-          The Human Fly being alive

-          Spider-Man’s aggression which I thought was being implied to be the symbiote’s fault

Nope. Nope. Nope.

PAD danced between the raindrops of continuity expertly. Aunt May found out Peter dropped out in ASM #253 DURING the Alien Costume Saga. The Human Fly was in fact alive, seen in a story shortly before Peter went to Battleworld. Peter’s aggression has an entirely different and logical explanation.

It was a job worthy of Busieck. Much kudos to PAD! Much shame on Ahmed.

Okay now let’s talk about the elephant in the room, or rather the twin set of elephants.

Yeah in this story...the Twin Towers are just fine.

There is a very interesting explanation at the back of the issue as to why this was.

Essentially PAD and Marvel were in two minds (ironically) about including the Towers for obvious reasons, PAD even having an alternately written scene in mind.

Now from a reader point of view it was a shock, I felt something so that’s good. And PAD being in New York when it happened I think lends him a certain degree of licence to touch on the tragedy. He actually already has in his 2099 book, a character revealed as a latent Inhuman comments that her life was shaped by the tragedy. That was maybe the first time ever since the ASM tribute issue that I recall a Marvel title using 9/11 as a piece of history as a story element much as they use WWII all the time.

The rationale behind doing it at all was that it was more immersive in the period, because obviously in 1984 the Twin Towers were still there. Although I wasn’t sure if PAD’s implication was that if you backtracked from this point in Spider-Man’s life to the point when he had the black suit that the Towers would still have been there. Because the latter would not be true since at most Peter would’ve been 17-18 and that’s if you accept he’s 35 NOW!

Regardless I think it worked well, I think Marvel handled it tastefully and I respect that they made the effort to justify it as opposed to just throwing it out there.

It’s also very much in line with the ethos of Untold Tales because IIRC whilst the stories were not EXACTLY set in the 1960s they were effectively set in the 1960s and had the same fashions.* Along with the Towers PAD also throws out references to the Muppet Babies and Power Pack who were huge in the 1980s.

All in all I can’t recommend this title highly enough.

BUY IT!

P.S. the only other complaint I have is that we’re apparently getting the Spot later and the Spot didn’t show up until after the Saga. So...we’ll see what happens there.

*Even though nobody in the actual 1960s looked or talked much like Stan Lee wrote Peter and the gang to but you catch my drift.

[twaaaaaa]

Race report: Ironman 70.3 Augusta

This is the first race report I've written for a U.S.-based race since college. And like a true American, I'm going to do it using bullet points. (Get it? Because we have an uncontrollable gun violence problem here?)

Also, I apologize for the lack of pictures here. Tumblr doesn’t play nice with photos in the middle of text, and figuring out the HTML for it is too close to my real job to be enjoyable.

PART 1: THE LEAD-UP

This was the first race I've done in more than two-and-a-half years. I took a hiatus because of burnout and an international move, spent 2018 building up a base and really started training again this year.

Going into it, I felt I was adequately trained on the bike. I hadn't done enough long runs, but that was balanced out by the amazing speedwork I've put in. Shoutout to Gerald and the Tuesday morning track crew.

My swim is also at the best it's ever been, though that's not saying much.

The race was in Augusta, Georgia. I have a bit of a shameful history with it – I registered for it in college in 2011. And then midterms happened, so I couldn't make it. To date it's my only DNS. Consider this time grade forgiveness.

I flew out with a bunch of teammates from Triple Threat. It's such a delight to race with a supportive team like this. Many of them were doing their first half-Ironman. They're so cute when they're new.

I got into the rental car with my teammate, Ann, and it took five minutes before I hit the first complication for the weekend. As soon as the speedometer hit 65 mph, WHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAP. Something on the front of the car was rattling. So we turned around and swapped it for a free upgrade to an SUV. Later, my coach would complain the same rental company was out of cars, and I'm partially to blame. Sorry, coach.

Most people paid $350 a night or so to stay at the host hotel. Screw that – do you know how much ice cream $350 can buy? The value inn a half-mile away had a soft bed, a warm shower and a stale continental breakfast. That's more how I roll.

Turns out the cheap hotel was ideally situated – two blocks away from the starting line, damn close to the transition check-in and right at the edge of the downtown area. No regrets.

Augusta is … not the most august location. It has a stench to it. From the river, I learned – the same river we were to start the day swimming in. Greeeeeat.

But at least it wasn't Waco.

We crowded into the Mellow Mushroom for dinner to give the newbies last-minute advice and reassurance. My advice in summary: it was going to be freaking hot, relax on the down-river swim and do a cannonball when you jump off the dock to start.

I found a Publix the day before the race! You have to understand what this means to a Floridian trapped in Texas. Texan friends, it's like finding a Whataburger and a Buc-ees next to each other in the middle of nowhere. Canadian friends, same but for Tim Horton's. UAE friends, imagine if a small town was entirely made out of malls. It just felt right.

I got my chicken tender PubSub and my guava pastries for maximum homeopathy to Florida Man. You could hear Jimmy Buffet playing in the background. Pitbull yodeled. The alligators lurking in the Savannah lifted their heads in praise. God shrugged and turned a blind eye. It was glorious.

At some point I bought a badass helmet with a visor that made me look like Judge Dredd. It was good for 15 minutes of confidence before Devon, who tests these things in a wind tunnel shamed me for it.

The morning of, we trudged down to transition for final prep and then made out way 1.2 miles upstream for the start. Three school buses were working as shuttles, but the line for them stretched almost as long as we'd have to walk.

Here's the nice thing about having a hotel next to the race start: instead of standing in line for the portable toilets before the start, you get to bask in the air conditioning and proper ventilation of your hotel room. Makes quite the difference.

This was my first time racing long-distance in a two-piece kit. I didn't realize you need to apply sunscreen to the small of your back, where the top rides up on the bike. This would later result in a sunburn tramp stamp.

PART 2: THE SWIM

The pros started off at 7:30 a.m., and us age groupers had to wait until 7:50 to start. Except it was a rolling start, with two people going off every three seconds. It took 90 minutes to get everyone in, as the sun rose ever higher.

I made friends with a guy in my age group while waiting in line (thanks to a fast seed time, we only ended up standing around for 35 minutes). His name was Houston, he told me, and he had roots around Delaware, Ohio. Sounded to me like he couldn't decide on a state. I declared I lived in Dallas and that made us rivals.

Oh buddy, you better believe I did a cannonball.

Augusta is a down-river swim. It ranges from easy to easiest, depending on the current. There are videos of them floating a coke bottle or bag of chips down the river and making the cutoff time. This year the current wasn't too swift, but a personal record was still a foregone conclusion.

I became best friends with some river weeds. Best friends hug each other and stick together, right?

I did not have to punch or shove anyone out of the way, thankfully. Guess all the breast strokers started behind me.

I popped out of the water in 33:49. That's a PR for me, but only enough to hit 67/135 in my age group. I aim for top 50% in the swim, so that was just baaaaarely acceptable.

3:55 T1, because I took some time to towel the grass off my feet before donning socks. This was not the most luxurious transition location.

PART 3: THE BIKE

My choice of a disc wheel and 50mm front was a good decision for the day. It wasn't too windy and the road conditions, while not amazing, were not enough to give me trouble. The 56-mile course starts off flat for 17 miles or so, then has a few hills, then goes back to mostly flat for the last 15.

Ten miles in or so I see a yellow jersey up ahead. Is that … yup, it's Houston. I ding my bell and whoop as I pass him.

Five miles later, I get passed by a dude in a yellow jersey. He waves back at me and compliments my helmet (yessss). We would continue to pass each other every few miles for the remainder of the ride. “Tag, you're it.”

Aid stations on the bike are chaotic. I've found the best way to let the volunteers know what you need is to roar it. It may scare the bejesus out of a middle schooler when some dude rides by on a spaceship-looking bike, points at her and screams “BANANA! BANANA!”, but that's part of the fun. Whatever gets me my potassium.

Nutrition-wise, I nailed it. The usual strategy of super-concentrating my electrolytes in one bottle and picking up water at each aid station worked perfectly. I head enough caffeinated gels to keep my energy going, and while I came close to cramping near the end of the run I never did.

I keep a bell on my aerobars, mostly because I don't want to waste the breath to yell “on your left” each time I pass someone. Because I'm a slow swimmer but a fast cyclist, and I pass a LOT of people.

You know what the bell is also useful for? Cheering a teammate on the other side of the road while your mouth is full of banana. You go, Jeff.

Years ago, star USF time trialist and all-around hammerhead borrowed my disc wheel and put an 11-23 cassette on it. I've never taken it off. You know what that cassette is good for? Flat land. You know what awaited me in the middle of the course? Not flat land.

In races, they say you only have so many “matches” to burn before your legs tire out on you. Most people burn their matches pushing up a steep hill or going fast near the end of the run. Me? I burn them to see if I can hit 40 mph going downhill. While screaming at the top of my lungs. I may not have the best time, but I'll be damned if I'm not having the most fun.

(Garmin reports my max speed was 40.1 mph. Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh.)

I RODE PAST A DUDE WITH A GOAT ON A LEASH.

Despite the hills, I managed to keep a steady heart rate for most of the bike course. Don't know about my power output because my P1 pedals have refused to play nicely for a while. I can finally send them in now that it's the offseason.

I'm happy to say I passed Houston a mile before the end of the bike. But I stopped for the bathroom in transition, so he still beat me to the run.

If there's no volunteer to jump out of the way of your flawless flying dismount, did it even happen? Conversely, if there's nobody around when you jump onto gravel in your socks, did you even scream?

Total bike time was 2:56:25, with a more than 19 mph average page. 57/135 for my age group – that's behind the upper-third that I aim for. I still have a ways to go to regain my bike strength.

PART 4: THE RUN. ALLEGEDLY.

By the time we got to the run, the sun was high in the sky and the ambient temperature was 95. With the humidity, it felt close to 99. A course record by a generous margin. Crap.

I caught Houston within the first mile, and for a while there were four of us 25-29 men within 15 seconds of each other. Every peer I passed got a fist-bump.

We had a nice chat for the next few miles as we admired the beautiful downtown course. It's a zig-zag through the street, with spectators lining the sidewalks. Many of them had water guns, hoses or sprinklers, and I love everyone who cooled us for a few precious seconds.

The very best, though, was the homeowner with a giant inflatable unicorn spouting water from its horn.

I was holding a steady heart rate and pace for the first four miles, but the heat got to me as it got to everyone. Houston dropped me at an aid station and went on to beat me by 20 minutes.

From then it was all about heat management. How much could I push myself before overheating and being forced to slow down? How much cold water could I take in? Was I balancing the right amount of liquid and electrolytes?

I began walking in the shade of every building and running to get to the next patch of shade faster. It served me decently for the rest of the race.

I came up on a cute girl around my age (they write it on your calf) and had fantasies of using a pickup line on her as I passed her. “Excuse me, can you remember this number for me? 727-555-1234.” Thank God I didn't, because a mile later she caught a second wind and dusted me. How humiliating would that have been?

After an hour or so I began to get some underarm chafing. I asked for a bit of sunscreen at an aid station and slapped it on. That hurt. Then the volunteer saw what I was doing: “You know we have Vaseline too, right?” Oh well, too late.

Speaking of which, the second-best sign on the course was “chafing the dream.”

The very best one, though, was a drawing of Marvel's Iron Man next to the words “MAKE STAN LEE PROUD.” At that point I was so worn down that I teared up a bit. And then I picked up my legs and ran for as long as my body would let me.

What stage of heat stroke is it when your body has no idea whether it's cold or hot anymore so it just tells you it's both? Because I had that starting around mile 8. Maintaining homeostasis is not one of my strong suits.

Three times I called out to the onlookers, “Hey man, can I pet your dog?” Three times I was denied. Augusta can burn in hell.

At some point around mile 10 (of 13) I did the math and realized I could still hit a sub-6-hour time if I pushed it. So began a frantic but calculated series of runs and walks.

Thank goodness I was in one of the run stages as I passed my coach and relay teammates on the sidelines. They got a decent picture of me – I'm only panting a little bit.

I made across the line with two minutes to spare. Then I grabbed a water and laid down under the pizza table with two other dudes. For 45 minutes. Good race.

Total run time was 2:20:39, and frankly I'm surprised it was that short. 53/135, which surprisingly was again better than my bike performance, comparatively. I blame my running coaches.

Total race time was 5:58:05. 53/135, which again isn't where I usually shoot for. But I knew I wouldn't hit the top third going into the race.

Total calorie burn for the day, according to Garmin: 5,200.

The overall goal of this race wasn't a time, but nor was it just a finish. It was to have my body do what I told it to – or at least what I could negotiate with it – without cramping, collapsing or bonking. And I did. I have my mojo back. The heat collapsed everyone's plan A, but I was able to pull off plan B without much of a struggle. I could not have done that a year ago.

Unfortunately, the deal with myself was that if I pulled this race off I'd sign up for another Ironman in fall 2020. So it's either Cozumel or Argentina for me next year. I'm going to try to enjoy my social life while I still can.

PART 5: THE AFTERMATH

I ran into Houston a bit past the pizza table and collapsed into the chair next to him. His mom and sister were there to cheer him in his first half-Iron race. He snuck the pizza and beer. Hooray for supportive families.

After collecting some teammates and nursing a pizza slice for an hour, I made my way to the rest of the team to yell at passers-by. And someone finally let me pet her dog. She was from Dallas – go figure.

The walk from my hotel to downtown takes ten minutes. The post-race walk from downtown to my hotel takes 30. The difference is staggering.

I came back to my second batch of car trouble: someone had backed my rental in the parking lot. No note or anything – just a bunch of scrapes and misaligned panels.

I talked to the hotel manager, who earned a great Booking.com review into pulling the security footage. We watched as a family three doors down from me backed their car straight into mine, got out, saw no witnesses and sped off. Thank God for my credit card's insurance coverage.

The geniuses were staying through the end of the week – the hotel had their driver's license and video evidence of them leaving the scene of an accident. Easiest police report the cop had ever filed.

As I was packing up the next morning, and after the policeman had talked to her, the woman approached me apologizing. I shrugged and wished her best of luck against the insurance and rental car companies. If I have to deal with this load of paperwork, so does she.

In the day after the race, I polished off three meals' worth of leftovers – including two different pizzas. Between those, the finish-line pizza and the week of carb-loading, I never wanted to eat another slice in my life.

That resolve didn't even last three days.

I bonded with a fellow athlete seated behind me on the plane ride back. Turns out his carry-on was not a suitcase, but a reusable bag of fresh vegetables and a half-eaten box of Life cereal. The absolute legend.

I learned later that day that over the weekend my Abu Dhabi friend Leanne had taken fourth place in Ironman Cozumel that same weekend in her debut as a pro. But I didn’t pee myself on the bike, so who really came out ahead there?

So now I'm in the off season. It's nice to get eight hours of sleep most nights. I'll be tweaking my workout schedule to build a base over the fall and winter, and then it's back to training. I'm looking at one or two half-Irons and a full next year, plus whatever local sprints and olympics bubble up.

When I came back to the US two years ago, I left important parts of my identity behind. Bunches of friends, a journalism career, my expat status. And triathlons were placed on hold. This past season has made me feel more like myself again, and it's a comforting feeling after so much doubt and uncertainty. It's good to be in love with the sport again after a few years of burnout.

The hardest part of the next year will be persuading my mom not to disown me if I get an Ironman tattoo after next fall. Wish me luck.

[grimelords]

Two days after I said I’d upload it tonight, here it is! My October playlist is finished and it’s chock a block full of good music and also bad music that I love. From John Mellencamp to drone metal, from Katy B to Cassius, it’s all here and more. Deadmau5 also is here and for that I apologise.

Small Town (Acoustic) - John Mellencamp: Guess who had a legit emotional reaction to a John Mellencamp song this month, thinking deeply about what it means to be from a small town and how much this song gets right and wrong about identity and freedom in a small town versus living in a big town? This guy. I think this song works a lot better stripped down acoustically than it does in the album version. It gives the lyrics a lot more space, and really lays out just how simple the sentiment of the song is. It sets the tone of this month's playlist pretty well now that I think about it. I've been feeling like a real pea-brain hayseed this month and big chunks of this playlist really reflect that.

Katy On A Mission - Katy B: It feels like this and Hold It Against Me by Britney Spears (which was also 2011) is the moment that big american style dubstep completely crossed over into the mainstream, Scary Monsters And Nice Sprites was about six months ago and from there it was a tidal wave until oversaturation and complete death. But Katy On A Mission is different because it's at least got the credentials of dubstep pioneer Benga producing it and it doesn't go all-out on the super dirty bass, or even particularly have a big drop at all - it just uses it textually all the way through and it's better off for it.

I Only Have Eyes For You - The Flamingos: The way this song is recorded is insane. It literally sounds like they're at the bottom of a well. And it's mixed in that good early stereo hard-panned style so the lead is in the right channel and the whole harmony is in the left channel and absolutely soaked in reverb in a way that just sounds incongruous with the rest of the song. It sounds like a dream. My favourite moment is at about 2:30 when the harmony vocals get so large on the high note that they clip out and distort in a way that just sounds very, very cool.

Horses In The Sky (Live Version) - The Sound Of Animals Fighting: The Sound Of Animals Fighting was a post-hardcore prog supergroup where they were all anonymous (it was just the entirety of RX Bandits plus Anthony Green from Circa Survive) and I really wish they'd done more like this after their first album - because they still wrote very very good songs but they got lost in the mire of studio ambient interludes and being avant-garde for the sake of it which sometimes worked and most times just bored you which thankfully they only succumb in the end section of this version. Compare this to the studio version if you want to know what I mean, halfway through the guitar solo it just starts playing in reverse.

Split Wide Open - Cannibal Corpse: Here's what I mean about feeling like a pea-brain this month. Cannibal Corpse is proper troglodyte moron man music. It makes me feel dumb as fuck like a real stupid guy. There's something interesting about Cannibal Corpse's enduring ability to shock people, and that a band making such extreme music are at least a name that people know. They were in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective for god's sake. Before Marilyn Manson and that wave of cabaret shock-rock really got into the popular consciousness Cannibal Corpse were making shocking, violent music without any of the glamour and I think it's served them well in the long run. Songs like 'Hammer Smashed Face' or 'I Cum Blood', are shocking in title, artwork and content to this day are still musically shocking to the vast majority, far more than Marilyn Manson's spooky androgyny and wearing like a top hat and having fangs or whatever that's aged like milk and become just another boring cliche. The idea of the devil being charming and sly, disguised in charisma is so much more boring than the devil just tearing you apart like mince meat and eating you. Anyway I'm here to say Cannibal Corpse is good music for dum-dums like me.

Funeraloplis - Electric Wizard: Someone's edited it now but it's still in the footnote links, but the best ever piece of writing on wikipedia was the quote on Electric Wizard's page where they were explaining the origin of their name because it said "Is the name Electric Wizard made out of two Black Sabbath song titles? [smokes a big bud of weed through a can] Hahahaha, yeah it is!" which is so good and sort of all you need to know about them.

I <3 U So - Cassius: Looking back through this list it seems I'm having a real 2011 moment for some reason. I don't think I *get* Cassius. From everything I read about them they seem to be french dance royalty but they literally have two good songs and they're both in this playlist. These two songs are very good though so maybe it's just that. Anyway it's a shame what Kanye did this to song on Watch The Throne but I don't blame him, it feels like this song is just impossible to work with. It's at a weird tempo, it's incredible loose, it basically has one section. I imagine this song would have frustrated a lot of DJs when it was popular cause I really don't know how you would mix in or out of it, but fuck it while it's on it's a great song!

Youth, Speed, Trouble, Cigarettes - Cassius: This is the other good Cassius song. I'm pitching it as the theme song for when they eventually reboot Skins. I really appreciate that this song has 1 idea and basically just does every variation it can with it before bringing it to a climax. When your idea is this simple and this good that's all you need. Also the big toms that kick in after the 'just one more' but are heaven sent.

It Took The Night To Believe - Sun 0))): Sun 0))) are such morons and it's so funny that you can be so dumb and so serious about this sort of music at the same time. On this song Greg Anderson is credited as Mystik Fogg Invokator and Stephen O'Malely is credited as Taoiseach, which is the name for the Irish prime minister. Whenever I listen to Sun 0))) for the first two minutes I'm like 'lol this sucks' but then suddenly the guy is like 'cry yourself to ash' and I'm feeling the pull of the void quite heavily. Basically it's just like that meme.

Seven Angels - Earth: I remember ages ago some guy posted Earth 2: Special High Frequency edition and it was just this whole album with a high pass filter on it which is a funny joke. Anyway it interesting to think of this album in the context of when it came out. Two years after Nevermind, six months before In Utero - grunge at the absolute height of its power, stoner metal like Kyuss and Sleep huge when suddenly this guy comes out of nowhere and distills guitar music down to its essence: slower, louder, heavier than anything else by an order of magnitude.

Mutual Slump - DJ Shadow: I finally saw Xanadu this month and now I can finally relate to the weird smiling breathing out your nose noise that she makes after she says 'I'd never hailed a cab before' in this song.

Walkin' On The Sidewalks - Queens Of The Stone Age: Queens Of The Stone Age's first album is 20 years old this year and I've been thinking a lot about how it was a two person operation. Josh Homme played and sang everything on this album except the drums and it's funny to think about writing this sort of music all by yourself outside of a jam structure. He really sat down with a pad and paper and wrote down 'outro: bass riff x400' and then recorded it just like that.

Witch - Maps & Atlases: I wake up with this song in my head so often it's insane. I think a triplet groove in 4/4 like this is such a good and underused feeling and this song really deploys is perfectly. I want more of this, the good kind of math rock where it's not just guys doing midwest emo tappy riffs that all sound the same.

Down 2 Hang - Kirin J Callinan: This is what meeting up with people from the internet feels like. It's kind of a shame that this album got completely overshadowed by the Jimmy Barnes screaming meme, and that it's the first and last a lot of americans will ever hear of Jimmy Barnes but in reality it's exactly what Kirin J Callinan wanted to good for him I suppose.

Fast In My Car - Paramore: If you can't tell already I'm having an extremely basic bitch moron man month and that included listening to this Paramore album a lot and telling my girlfriend about how isn't it so interesting that the guitarist Taylor York just took over drum duties for this album after their longtime drummer quit and did such a good job playing drums AND guitar and her rightly not caring at all. I'm always impressed by songs that keep the same chords through the verse and chorus, it seems impossible but it works great here.

Don't Stop The Dance (feat. Delafleur) - Breakbot: I'm clapping my hands to stress each syllable when I tell you that Disco Will Never Die.

Oqiton - Jeremy Dutcher: I'm so glad this album won the Polaris Prize because I feel like I would never have heard of it otherwise. I absolutely love it, and I think what I love so much about it is that it doesn't fall into the trap of similar projects like this in the past of smoothing out all the jagged edges and turning it into plastic pretty music from the untouched ancient peoples - it's a real and alive reinterpretation of old music that looks toward the future and past in equal measure. Including the actual original recordings in each track is such a smart move, it gives you the context you need so this album isn't about liner notes and extra sources and it lets those old recordings seamlessly fold into these new reorchestrations.

I Remember - Deadmau5 & Kaskade: Anyway moron month continues here with the only worthwhile contribution to the planet earth that Deadmau5 ever made, I suspect by letting Kaskade do most of the work. It sounds sadistic but I really appreciate how this song is nearly ten minutes long, I'm a big fan of any song with that much confidence that actually pulls it off.

Overtime - Jessie Ware: Fucking Jessie Ware is back and she’s got Bicep producing! I think I added this song to my playlist before it was even a minute in, I just heard the bassline and my brain stem said yes.

Body - Julie Jacklin: I really think Julia Jacklin might be the best songwriter around right now and I cannot wait for her new album. I guess this keeps with the moron man theme by telling it from the other side. I keep listening to this song and then getting into a real mood for about an hour afterwards so I can't imagine the damage the album is going to do to me.

Can't Tell Me Nothing - Kanye West: Throughout the whole ongoing Kanye drama I've been thinking of this song. " I feel the pressure, under more scrutiny, and what I do? Act more stupidly" "I'm on TV talking like it's just you and me". Anyway he's had is money right for a long time but it's becoming increasingly apparent that you really really can't tell him nothing. I think it's interesting that the thing that seems to have spurred him into clarifying his beliefs and finally backtracking on anything is that Candace Owens tried to credit him for the shitty Blexit thing and it turns out the one thing you can't do to Kanye West is manipulate him into putting his name on something he doesn't believe in or didn't create. It's insane that John Legend and Mos Def and Talib Kweli reaching out didn't change anything but Candace Owens taking one too many liberties absolutely did.

Like Wolves On The Fold - Colin Stetson: I've said it one million times but I love Colin Stetson. I love how straightforward this is for a Colin Stetson song. You can sing along to it! So much writing about him focuses on the intricasies of his technique rather than his resulting very human, very primal music. I feel like his music is not very far from beating on your chest and yelling a lot of the time (especially toward the second half of this song) and the saxophone element just makes it a lot more socially acceptable.

Sack 'Em Up, Pt. I / Sack 'Em Up, Pt. II - Gwenifer Raymond: Bandcamp had a really good article about American Primitive the other day https://daily.bandcamp.com/2018/10/10/american-primitive-list/ and I found this album in it and fell completely in love instantly. I listened to it five times in a row. It's just incredible and I'm so glad that the music I love is finally being rescued from the mire of New Acoustic youtube men with their slapping and tapping and harp guitars and moving forward in new ways with artists like Sarah Louise, Marisa Anderson and Gwenifer Raymond. Women are finally allowed to play guitar now and thank fuck. One of the things I really appreciate about this album is just how written it feels. Every part, even the very swirly Part One of this song feels very purposeful, and if not totally written at least improvised in a tight framework before moving into the completely written second half. There's nothing wrong with improv but in a genre like this that's almost overrun with guys putting out hour long improv records it's refreshing to hear someone with such a clear vision execute it so expertly.

Bleeding Finger Blues - Gwenifer Raymond: Also, get a fucking load of this. An absolute powerhouse performance from a master. There's not enough solo banjo music around and it's a shame because I don't know if there's a better argument for banjo as a solo instrument than this song. The other thing I like about this album is there’s three banjo songs on it, which works well for breaking up the sequencing and making each song really distinct in a genre where albums can really blend together.

4:30 - Danger: It's a shame that Danger never really fulfilled his potential. With songs as good as this as 19:11 he seemed set. But then he took about a decade off before his debut album and I guess he lost something along the way. Anyway, doesn't matter because when you've got a song as good as this it's all you need. Also here's a good video where someone just put this song over the bar scene from Terminator which really accentuates the vibe in my opinion. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z37R39-mff8

Crybaby - Abra: I love love love the production on this. A friend sent it to me because he said it reminded him of the Call Me Mr Telephone song I was raving about and he’s absolutely right. I love how formless it is, it goes through about three different verse ideas before finally getting to the chorus at about a minute and a half in and it’s only stronger for it. I’m so glad a new generation of darkwave adjacent people are discovering freestyle because this is great.

OMG!!! - Yelle: This song is probably best experienced with the music video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoWK4rV3INY It’s fantastic on its own, especially the “oh my god!” sample and the whole chorus section, but the video - titties out, covered in glitter, very very good dance move for the rising 'ooo' part, a hamster is there. Really accentuates it.

Copacabana (At The Copa) - Barry Manilow: Was thinking about this song the other day. Woke up with it in my head actually which was strange. I feel like this song and the Pina Colada song definitely take place in the same cinematic universe.

King Of The Dead - Cirith Ungol: I've been rereading Lord Of The Rings and also a very dodgy 70s sci-fi series called Dray Prescot and so divine fate has drawn me to discover Cirith Ungol. The good kind of metal where all the album covers could also be fantasy novel covers and all the songs are about how cool it would be to slay an ancient demon with a sword. I love this song because it feels impossible to sing it without doing some very dramatic face acting and also his voice is completely insane. I feel like this is maybe just how he talks.

Sugaree 10/21/1978 - Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead are good and ever since I came to terms with that I've felt like I'm always on the precipice of buying a box of tapes, covering my car in confusing stickers and dropping completely out of society. The problem with a big chunk of live Dead recordings that I've heard is that while the playing is always on point, the vocals can vary wildly - especially when they try any kind of harmony, but this recording is just great. Fantastic vocals with a lot of feeling, ample crowd noise so it doesn't feel like just a sterile soundboard recording, and of course an incredible extended jam.

Ring De Bell - Brother Resistance: I don't fully understand what rapso music is yet, I don't have enough understanding of the culture or surrounding genres. I basically just found this Best Of compilation and have been listening to it a LOT. As I understand it it's 70s Trinidadian calypso music that got very political, which is very cool. I'm a big fan of this sort of lyric where it feels like you could just go on and on for days about all the places you should ring the bell.

Kojack - David Rudder: The crown jewel of this compilation is of course this song I've posted about before and absolutely love to death. A protest song about them taking Kojack off the TV because it's too violent when shows like Dallas and Dynasty, which are far worse, remain on the air. Miami Vice! Before youtube comments and online petitions you had to make extremely good songs about this kind of thing, and its a huge shame that we've allowed this to die.

The Power Of Love - Celine Dion: I love Celine Dion because all her songs sound like they were recorded across 5 countries and 8 different studios and cost two million dollars. They always sound too expensive for casual listening to me, like I should have an emergency mink coat on me at all times just in case The Power Of Love starts playing in a supermarket.

Airworks - J Dilla: I've been listening to Donuts a bunch this month and really thinking about what makes him so good and the vast legion of Dilla imitators on soundcloud bad and I think this song is a good example. The main sample sounds straight up ugly, it's backwards and twisted to hell, the main strings part keeps folding over itself, it's just chaos but completely controlled chaos. Every imitator is so afraid to make a total mess like he does and is too focused on the underpinning laid-backness of the beat, where Dila somehow makes the relaxed feeling easily as a result of a million clashing elements.

Anti-American Graffiti - J Dilla: I also found a playlist on Spotify where someone had put together Donuts with all of the the original tracks it sampled (or at least the ones that are available on Spotify) and it's such an illuminating new way to listen to this album. https://open.spotify.com/user/keatonkreps/playlist/1TPeWt38uceWXD1Vhyf7wx?si=NJ_jHrYqQpCt18q-W9nrag

Marvel - Solillaquists Of Sound: Every genre has good music in it. Even rappity rap conscious hip hop has good songs like this one. There’s another song on this album called Popcorn that’s basically the It’s Media picture converted to a .wav but this song is good. Especially her vocals when they come in halfway through sounding like an astrology zine except good.

Rock Island Line - Johnny Cash: Johnny Cash has around one million songs about trains, including ‘Blue Train’, ‘Train Of Love’ and a song called ‘I’ve Got A Thing About Trains’ but this is the best one because it’s about train-related fraud and doing perhaps the most outlaw country manoeuvre ever and telling the toll man that you’re carrying livestock when you are in fact carrying pig iron.

I <3 U So (Skream's Made Zdar Feel Like He Was 20 Again Remix) - Cassius: Also as a kind of coda, here's Skream's version of I <3 U So, where he's completely ironed it out and turned it into a pulsing dnb thing which is always impressive to me when people completely reverse the feel of a song in a remix.

Worms Of The Senses / Faculties Of The Skull - Refused: Stereogum had a really good article about The Shape Of Punk To Come on its 20th anniversary and whether it really did turn out to be the shape of punk to come. They asked a bunch of people whether the title seemed arrogant and the vocalist from La Dispute had a really good answer where he said "But it’s like calling your shot and then fuckin’ hitting a home run. If it was arrogant, it was justifiably so." which is so great. https://www.stereogum.com/2020358/refused-shape-of-punk-to-come-turns-20/franchises/sounding-board/​

listen here