#also point of clarification. while i have a lot of thoughts on how the west perceives china in ways that are stupid and unfair

[purecommemasolitude]

the thing about canada being a fairly socialist/pro-human rights country (in relation to a lot of the rest of the world) is that often people assume we must therefore automatically be on the perceived good side of any conflict with "bad" countries, even from those who know of atrocities committed by the canadian government

if you know anything about taiwan's situation you know there's like 10-15 countries that actually recognize us and none of them are super big/significant internationally to my limited knowledge of them

but because china is the big bad meanie and canada is the upstanding good guy, we must recognize taiwan, right? that's the morally good stance, so we must, right?

it's a very shortsighted view of international politics that doesn't necessarily mean anything about the rest of their politics but is very telling of how biases seep into worldviews

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: West Coast Avengers #1: Avengers Assemble!

September, 1984

WHO will answer Hawkeye’s call to join the new team?

I assume Mockingbird? I see her silhouette in the cover box and the assumption was that she and Clint were a package deal? I don’t know what it’s being played like its not a given.

Some good or at least interesting options here for the second team.

Red Wolf, Iron Man, Puck, I thiiiiink Crystal?, Doc Sampson, Mockingbird, Cyclops, Black Widow, Wonder Man, Tigra, Quicksilver, Hercules, Ant-Man, Namor, and the Shroud.

A lot of interesting options. I really want it to be Cyclops and I know its not going to be Cyclops.

STOP TEASING ME WITH AVENGERS CYCLOPS IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GIVE IT TO ME!

Also, this issue #1 of West Coast Avengers. Or at least the first issue #1. The team is introduced in a four issue miniseries before getting an ongoing - and a second issue #1 - about a year later.

This will be moderately confusing for my numbering but I’m brave enough to barrel on through anyway.

Last time in Avengers: Vision became the chairman of the Avengers and announced that due to the threat of the Dire Wraiths, the Avengers would be opening up a West Coast team led by newly married Hawkeye. In one page reminders of the subplot in various issues, Hawkeye and Mockingbird arrived in Los Angeles, went real estate shopping, and set up a new HQ in a nice compound that used to belong to an actress.

The team is only missing one thing.

A team.

Maybe it’s just me but I’d think that you’d get the team sorted out before you spent who knows how much renovating a compound up to the level required for a superhero team.

It’s going to be really embarrassing if you open a new Avengers team and nobody comes.

(Vision agrees and has taken the liberty of reaching out to several likely candidates.)

Mockingbird confirms that Hawkeye has invited her onto the team but she’s not even sure she’s Avengers material, she doesn’t even have powers.

Hawkeye: “Neither does Captain America! Neither do I! If I can be an Avenger -- !”

Mockingbird: “Anyone can, right?”

Hawkeye: “And people wonder why you took the code-name Mockingbird!”

Haha! I do like their chemistry!

He does clarify that its totally not just because she’s married to him (although I would point out that he kept trying to get Black Widow on the team based on them dating) but that she’s totally earned it! She has years of experience as a SHIELD agent!

Hawkeye calls Vision to let him know that the place is all set up and Vision lets him know about the reaching out to several likely candidates biz.

BOOM SCENE TRANSITION TO DOWNTOWN SAN FRANCISCO at the office of private investigator Jessica Drew.

Because, yeah, Jessica Drew did the PI thing as an ex-superhero way before Jessica Jones. And Jessica Jones is probably Drew with some of the serial numbers scratched off.

ANYWAY, she’s talking to hardboiled Tigra, who helped her on the Enselmo case.

Jessica Drew: “I still laugh when I think about the way you ran our pigeon up and down Telegraph Hill!”

Tigra: “That was the best part of the case! After all... bringing pigeons to ground is second nature to a lady who’s half-cat!”

Jessica tries to offer Tigra a job (since this is before the internet and Tigra can’t find a lot of modeling jobs for models covered with fur) but Jessica’s secretary interrupts with a call for Tigra.

The call sounds ominous from Jess only hearing half of it but I’m 99.9% sure its Vision offering Tigra a spot on the West Coast Avengers.

Read Tigra’s replies with that context and you’ll laugh.

Tigra tells Jess that she’s got to book it to LA for business that she has to settle on her own but they’ll talk about Jess’ offer later.

Tigra: “Don’t worry, I’m a big girl... I can make my own mistakes!”

I feel like a little bit of clarification would have gone a long way here, Tigra.

Because Jessica assumes that Tigra is in trouble and decides to call someone to tail (ha) Tigra.

Meanwhile, a car chase in the Mojave Desert.

To cut to the car chase, this is a movie set filming a stunt spectacular car chase scene for what I’m pretty sure is James Bond.

Pyrotechnics are easy if you don’t stress blowing up the stuntman.

Because he’s near invulnerable.

The stuntman (Simon Williams, Wonder Man) does need to have buckets of water thrown on him to cool him off after being in an explosion but he’s otherwise fine.

Cool that Wonder Man found an acting job he can handle. He seems pretty thrilled with it.

One of the staff on set tells Simon that his trailer is buzzing and he realizes its his Avengers transceiver.

He receives his offer from Vision (although apparently a much more vague one than Tigra) and flies off after making sure he has no more stunts scheduled for the day.

An hour later and hundreds of miles elsewhere, Iron Man (the James Rhodes version) is flying around, minding his own business, thinking about how cool it is to have relocated to California to help Tony Stark open a new business, admiring the Standord University Linear Accelerator Center.

Just as he’s thinking that he hopes that Tony isn’t in a hurry to being Iron Man since he’s gotten used to it, Vision cuts in on the secret Iron Man radio frequency to call him in to the meeting.

Iron Man arrives twenty minutes later at the West Avengers compound on the Palos Verdes Peninsula bluffs and paraphrased does an impressed whistle at what a nice place it is.

Iron Man: “Some spread! This looks like the kinda place Tony would’ve hung out... before he lost Stark International! The best part of being his pilot in those days was ferrying him to spots like this! Who’d have thought I’d ever be invited on my own? Then again, who’d have thought little Jimmy Rhodes would grow up to be Iron Man?!”

Future knowledge bums me out a little with this. This is spoilers for a year from now and several issues from now but in the time gap between the West Coast Avengers limited series and the ongoing, Tony does take over being Iron Man again. I hope you enjoy all this while it lasts, Rhodey. And hey, War Machine is only like eight years away!

Tigra arrives and starts acting familiar with Iron Man because she thinks she knows its Tony and they were teammates for a bit.

She ditches the briefly identity obscuring trenchcoat and hat because dammit she has a year round fur coat and its hot in California!

She also might be flirting, although hopefully not as bad as she’ll get later in the ongoing. Spoilers for a year and several issues for now but it is a bafflingly bad subplot that Tigra gets given.

The other reason I bring it up is that this is the exact situation that led Rhodey to quit the Avengers when he became Iron Man. He felt it would be awkward interacting with people who already knew Iron Man well.

I guess he’s more comfortable with it now.

The West Coast Avengers roster that we already know about are all people who either quit the Avengers or don’t feel like they’d be a good fit. Which is just a great start so I’m interested to see if we’ll get justifications for why they’d sign up the minute a franchise opens.

Hawkeye takes Tigra and Iron Man off on a tour while a mysterious shrouded figure watches.

The tour concludes without us seeing the tour, boo. But it comes up that neither Iron Man or Tigra know why they’re here.

Iron Man was just told he was needed but didn’t get any more details. We know that Wonder Man got the same vagueness. And Tigra was just offered a $1000 dollar stipend to fly out to LA and see if she could “help the Avengers out!”

So Hawkeye gives them the sales pitch.

That Captain America made it a rule that except in emergencies, the Avengers’ roster would be limited to six members. But Vision decided that they need more than six Avengers but wanted to keep the team from becoming unwieldy so told Hawkeye to set up an expansion team: the West Coast Avengers!

It’ll basically be the same thing as the original Avengers in terms of by-laws and rights and privileges and both groups will be affiliated but the West Coast Avengers will be running their own show west of the Rockies.

If everyone here agrees to sign up, that’ll make a team of five with a sixth spot to fill.

But Tigra objects that she left the original team because she felt out of her depth and why would that be different here?

Ah, now there it is.

Justify it, Hawkeye.

Except he doesn’t because the intruder alarm goes off.

The intruder alarm all the way in the first basement level, which means their intruder has already penetrated deep into the compound and bypassed a lot of the security systems.

Hawkeye is sure that the intruder is actually a highly organized commando raid and he’s instantly proven wrong with an infrared scan shows just one guy.

Womp womp.

Hawkeye is also sure that however this just one guy got as far as he did, the security system in the next area will totally--

Womp womp.

Hawkeye is fed up at this point and seals off the security levels, forcing the dude back through the domestic areas. He then orders Iron Man, Tigra, and Mockingbird to split up to cover more ground that way and surround the intruder.

Not having much better to do, they do, but everyone has some misgivings in their thinky thoughts.

Iron Man: Hawk sounds like he really gets into giving orders. I don’t know if I like that.

Tigra: I must be some sort of masochist to get involved with Avengers again! They always seem to know what they’re doing... not like me! What am I doing here? What am I trying to prove?

Hawkeye: Should I let the others catch our intruder... or rush in and collar him myself? How would Cap handle this?

Mockingbird: Poor Hawk... He wants so much to be a good leader! I know he can do it, but I wish he wouldn’t try quite so hard! In a way, though, it’s funny... His first act as leader was having the team split up!

Mockingbird is the first to run into the intruder, suddenly being enveloped in a cloud of darkness. She can’t see anything but hears someone moving and launches one of her staves from her spring-loaded sleeve launcher.

Its a near miss, breaking a lamp instead of the intruder, who turns out to be Shroud. Y’know, that friend of Jessica Drew’s we met in that two-parter about saving Jessica Drew’s ghost?

Shroud realizes how skilled Mockingbird is and that he might have trouble if he takes her lightly so he goes right for the Vulcan neck pinch, knocking out Mockingbird. But she hits Shroud in the stomach guts with her second stave as she’s passing out.

Hawkeye then shows up, concerned that he hasn’t run into Mockingbird yet and drawn to the cloud of darkness, except not the Final Fantasy villain.

He shoots a light arrow, except not the Legend of Zelda powerup, into the cloud to no real effect so shrugs and shoots a sonic arrow instead.

Shroud flees the area and Hawkeye finds Mockingbird who tells him to shut up with the EEEEE arrow.

Hawkeye: “Where’d our man go?”

Mockingbird: “How should I know? It was dark!”

Hah.

The cloud of darkness passes through the area of the mansion/compound that Tigra is in and she recognizes it as Shroud’s darkness. She calls out to him but he doesn’t hear her because he’s in another wing about to be tackled by Iron Man who can see Shroud with his in-helmet radar.

Controlling darkness is all well and good until technology.

Ain’t it said, Rumia?

Shroud is also blind so all he knows is that an armored man is lunging at him until Iron Man calls him a fool for trespassing on Avengers turf.

And that’s when he realizes that he done goofed.

Hmm. What is that symbol on Shroud’s hood, anyway? It looks kinda like Aku.

Shroud manages to escape Iron Man’s grasp, sacrificing some of his neat cape. Although, it tears into an even cooler look so is it really a sacrifice?

He decides that he’s just going to get out of here.

Shroud: Have to get undercover and think out my next move. I don’t want to fight Avengers! That could become a life’s work -- and I have better things to do!

I can’t decide whether he means that he’d be at it all day or that this misunderstanding fight would lead him down an unwilling path of villainy as some third-string grudge holder.

Probably the former?

Anyway, Shroud is just leaping over the balcony when Wonder Man finally arrives and spots him. And unfortunately for Shroud’s ribs, he has been cultivating a reputation as a crimelord so Wonder Man flies in and tackles him into a tree.

Womp womp, except for Shroud this time.

Tigra shows up and jumps on Wonder Man from forty feet away to stop him from hurting Shroud any further, explaining that he’s her friend.

Shroud: “I’m certainly glad I’m not an enemy... I’d hate to think how I’d be treated then!”

Hah.

Later, in the medical room, I guess, Mockingbird applies bandages to Shroud’s ribs except on the outside of his costume. Does... does that do anything? Obviously not for open wounds. But for bruised bones, I guess the point is compression. But it feels less than ideal because he’d have to take off the bandages to take off his shirt. Just feels better to apply the bandages under the clothes, MOCKINGBIRD.

What makes it weirder is that we see him a couple panels later pulling his shirt down over the bandages. Which makes me think Mockingbird bandaged him on top of his costume and he had to pull his costume top out from under them and pull it down. He didn’t just stop her because that would be rude?

Shroud explains that Jessica Drew asked him to keep an eye on Tigra because of how the phone call made her act all weird. He followed Tigra from the airport to here and ran into a gaggle of superheroes. 

In the meantime, Hawkeye has verified Shroud with a report Captain America filed on him so Hawkeye believes he’s a good guy now.

Wonder Man and Iron Man apologize for going in swinging and Tigra for not just telling Jessica what the call was about. But Shroud tells them no permanent harm done.

Hawkeye decides to offer Shroud the last spot on the team (assuming that everyone already invited is going to choose to stay).

Hawkeye: “That trick you do with the dark is one slick little number... and anyone who can hold his own against us as long as you did obviously has what it takes in the skill department. Besides, what you did reminds me a little of how I introduced myself to the Avengers -- I broke in, too! Come on... What do you say?”

Shroud say... no.

He’s honored and a couple years earlier he would have jumped at the chance. But Wonder Man’s assumption didn’t come from nowhere. Shroud has been spending the last many months building up his outlaw rep so he can take down gangs from the inside.

Like the Green Hornet, I guess?

But since it’d be hard to be an Avenger West Coast AND keep up the fake outlaw thing, Shroud has to turn them down.

Shroud then pulls his cloud of darkness disappearing trick and nopes out.

With all that tied up, Wonder Man asks whats the big thing that Vision called him out for, leading an exasperated Hawkeye to start his West Coast Avengers sales pitch from the top.

Mockingbird: “That’s the spirit, fearless leader! Just remember, it can only get better from here!”

Hah.

So, that was the first issue of West Coast Avengers.

And there’s still no West Coast Avengers team.

Tigra and Iron Man still have reservations about the idea. Wonder Man has no idea why he’s there.

Its an interesting decision to hit the ground walking with this team. But it makes sense. The initial plan wasn’t for the West Coast Avengers to get an ongoing. This limited series was supposed to establish the concept, give a few Avengers affiliated characters something to be doing off-panel, and be able to be pulled in for crossovers and guest appearances as needed.

So the book can focus more on Hawkeye’s trials in actually getting this team going. He’s finally gotten to be a leader of the Avengers like he’s always wanted and now has to deal with all the frustration that Captain America or Hank Pym had with him, and then some.

Still, funny that the West Coast Avengers’ first adventure has them not only not a team yet but spending their time beating up a friend due to mistaken identity.

Will they get their act together by the next issue? Only time will tell. I tell a lie because Chronos never spoils stories. Only me will tell or maybe the Internet.

Follow @essential-avengers​ for the rest of the West Coast Avengers limited series. And for eventual bafflement when they get an ongoing. Also, like and reblog.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 15

////TW Deceptions of canon typical violence and a home invasion near the end////

“Yea so the pizza is not only aesthetically pleasing but pretty fuckin' good too.”you finish your rant on why the two of you should drive out to Point Pleasant some time.

“Not gonna lie it seems more like you want to,” he pops his knuckles, “drag me miles away to sacrifice me to some old god.” the popping gets worse.

Shit, Toby's getting nervous. You probably look pretty sketchy right now considering the fact that you've been suggesting the two of you go out to Point Pleasant for the past thirty-ish minutes. Toby had pulled off to the shoulder lane once Connor's barking started up. Alerting the two of you to his incoming tics. It seemed to be a long episode so you offered to drive off the interstate and on to the side of the road instead. Hoping that maybe the absence of the additional outside stimulants coming from cars driving past you two would calm Toby's tics.

Unfortunately you'd gotten caught up talking about your late night escapades having been taken by the fact that Toby didn't seem to mind. He'd actually understood that restlessness you went on about. And when he asked what was the furthest town you've driven to in one night. You kind of let loose and spilled your guts about the Mothman capital.

For half an hour, on an offshoot of the interstate in the middle of nowhere, he was trapped with no where to run. Of course the poor guy was probably scared of you at this point. He was just indulging you out of fear not out of any genuine interest.

Why couldn't you just read signals properly?

“No!” from his jump you've probably said that way too loudly, “I mean sorry I get carried away – Mothman's cool – the town is a nice tourist trap and I thought you'd think it was cool – but then I just probably just seemed weird to you and now I just....ughr none of that made sense did it?”

“Weeell” he drags out as thought he's thinking on it “nope none.”

Looking at his face you can see his red stained scarred lips pull into a sort of smirk and there's a glint in his eyes. He's being sarcastic, he's making fun of you. He isn't weirded out by you just being yourself and ranting about nothing in particular or running around in circles with a train of thought only  to get confused or baffled by the workings of your own brain.

The smug dick. Letting you spiral while he watched on in amusement. This reeks of Brian, has his fuck boy energy written all over it. You'll just have to spend more time with Toby to make sure the sweet man next to you doesn't turn into a menace to society. Or at least not a menace to you.

“Meanie.” you blow a raspberry in his direction, he returns the gesture albeit a lot messier than he intended. Spit seeps from the gash in his cheek and dribbles down the scarred edge of his lips.

Toby lets out a grunt and looks down at his spit in disgust. Whether that's in himself or just his spit you can't tell. Leaning over the console you pop open the glove box to hand him some emergency napkins you had in there.

“Fuckin' Mary Poppins.” you hear him mutter over you.

Choosing to ignore his teasing and take the high road in this you hand him the napkins and relax back into your seat. Watching him run the napkin up and down his arms trying to get any spit that may have backfired onto him, which was definitely most of it.

“You good?” you ask.

“Uh yea 's just spit no big deal.” it's such a simple statement but you can't help the smile that it brings to your face.

You meant if he'd be good to drive yet since you two had been out here for the better part of an hour now. It was nearly two in the afternoon. Neither of you anticipated the quick slushy run turning into an all day event. And while you wouldn't mind driving around for two more hours or so – you're quickly coming to the end of your battery.

“Meant to drive, dork.”

“Hmm...Yea should be now,” Toby says wadding up the napkins before spinning in the passenger seat towards you and gently flinging the wad of napkins in your face, “and 'm not a dork. You are.”

Returning his spit used napkin to him, tossing it just a tad harsher than he originally had, “You're right you're a brat!”

You exit the car before he can throw it at you again. Though it really doesn't matter when he just pelts you with it from over the hood when you switch seats anyway. Picking the napkin up off the ground you hold on to it and place it in one of the empty slushy containers sitting in your console.

The mature course of action. However, you do poke your tongue out at Toby as you do it. He only rolls his eyes as he huffs out a laugh at you.

Toby hovers over the gear shift waiting for either an alert or one of his tics to rear its head. When neither happens he put the car in drive and you two begin your hour and half drive back to Kepler.

Or would've, had it not been for the traffic you seemed to get stuck in not even five minutes after getting back on the interstate.

“You're fucking kidding me.” Toby says incredulously.

After ten minutes of going nowhere, all the while his leg bouncing was shaking the car, Toby abruptly get out of the car and marches to the passenger door flinging it open.

“You're driving.” is all he says.

You don't think there's any talking him out of it. You're good to drive so that isn't the issue, his abruptness about the situation is what stuns you. Wordlessly you get out of the car and take the wheel. Getting buckled in you see from the corner of your eye Toby grabbing you phone and typing away.

He seems to find what he's looking for as static flows through your stereo. The sponsored ads for the white noise “podcast” start playing before fading back into the never ending static. Your phone is placed back under the radio and Toby reclines his seat all the way.

It's tense for a moment as you wait for something else to happen. Whether it's an outburst or an explanation you aren't sure, the anticipation for anything to happen hangs thick in the car. You keep your focus on the road and traffic in front of you figuring Toby will let you know what's up in his own time.

The sound of shuffling comes from behind you as Connor scoots over to his handler to be of assistance. Only for him to be gently waved off. And he goes back to his spot laying down and honing in on you. Since you are currently driving...even though scooting the car up a few inches in the past twenty minutes shouldn't really qualify as driving. Nevertheless the pup remains vigilant in his work.

It's probably an hour or so before Toby finally speaks, breaking the semi silence he put the car in.

“Traffic jams make me anxious.” he doesn't move from his reclined position, just stares up at the ceiling of your car.

A noncommittal hum comes from the back of your throat. You'd assumed it was something to that nature but didn't want to pry. It must be bad if it was something that made him willingly pass the torch of driving, something that also made him wildly uncomfortable.

“Wanna talk – or do you just need silence.”

The answer came in the form of the silence that followed. It was another long hour and a half before the traffic finally cleared. You weren't even aware so many people could be on the interstate going through West Virginia on a Monday afternoon. Since you were at the tail end of the traffic by the time you got to where you assume it started, by the left over debris in the road and fresh skid marks heading into the median, you really couldn't put together what had gone on.

Your eyes didn't focus in on the leftovers of the accident nor did you slow down like many other vehicles. It's not like you enjoy seeing the wreckage of cars or people being lifted into ambulances but you understand most people give in to that base human curiosity. You just hoped everyone involved was safe and okay.

From your peripheral you catch Toby turning his head to face you every few minutes or so. Disregarding it as a tic you continue on driving. While this accident had cleared you don't doubt the power of stupidity to not influence another reckless driver, who might now be late from traffic, to start weaving in between lanes.

“Are we past it?” comes the quietest voice you've ever heard from Toby.

So stunned by the volume it takes you a minute to register what he'd asked.

“Uh...oh yea. We passed it like fourteen minutes ago?” assuming 'it' had been the crash site, though you hadn't been keeping track of time honestly.

No point when the two of you would be getting back to Kepler after dark anyway. You'd ask Toby if he'd want to grab food before you drop him off at the lodge but his continued silence as he fixes his seat up right clues you in that he might not be up for anything other than turning in for the night. Honestly you're at the point yourself, so you don't really mind the silence driving back.

Just like you thought the two of you got into Kepler a little after eight o'clock. Having been stopped by another accident, this one not lasting nearly as long to get situated, had really taken a toll on Toby's mood though. You could practically feel something eating at him as anxiety radiated off his form.

He didn't offer any clarification for his reactions and you didn't pry. Most times when you get a similar way you find it's easier to just let it run it's course than to try and calm yourself. So you're a little surprised when you reach the lodge and  Toby practically volts out of your car, when he gently taps on your window after he's retrieved Connor from behind you.

“Get home safe.”

Those words hit your ears with a bit more weight than they normally do. Maybe because the day's been full of accidents on the road. Or maybe because of the lack of interaction the two of you have had for the past four hours. Whatever the reason it doesn't change how Toby lingers at your side even after your reply. He finally steps away, once again falling silent, and you're able to drive home after a final farewell to him.

The way Toby reacted today never leaves your mind. While theories and ideas toss around in your head you can feel the bubbling weight in your stomach build as cold sweats break out all over your body. Combating the weight in your stomach is its emptiness. Having only eaten the bowl of cereal today and nothing else has left you on empty since you'd gotten into traffic. However, being so preoccupied with Toby's change in behavior you'd forgone food in favor of getting your friend home as soon as possible.

Pausing when you come to the fork in the road making you choose between going straight home and fighting with cooking a meal or running to the mini mart and grabbing something quick and unhealthy. You normally take a bit to decide, but today it seems your gut is telling you to forgo the food and get home. You can't quite place a finger on what you're feeling – not quite fear or anxiety or even paranoia. All of which would be valid considering how weird your afternoon had been. Instead it feels like a little voice is ever so quietly telling you that you should get home immediately.

The voice pipes up again as soon as you gently shut your car door. It seems to warn you that there is danger near by.

'Fuck' is all you can think about as memories of the evidence of your stalker come into play.

It had been so busy lately that you'd honestly forgotten all about the stalker. Hell your bat was still in your room, so you were fucked if your intuition was right about this. You were at least going to be smart about this and pull up the Cowell's home phone contact on your cell before even getting near the front door. If anything happened you'd call and either leave a message or have a concerned Big Jo over instantly.

The house is silent as you open and shut the front door. Not anything new to you but with the tension in the air you're more than certain someone is here with you. Making your way through the house you peer into the kitchen and living room. The coast is clear on those fronts which leaves the hall closet, your bedroom, and the bathroom right across from your room.

Quickly ruling out the closet because of the limited space for a grown adult to hide in. The only options are your bedroom and the bathroom. The bathroom that has the door open at all times and would make a great place to hide and ambush you while you went into you room. Or a good place to lock yourself in to call Jo in case they were in your room, you'd just have to be ready to sprint out faster than they could register seeing you. Then there's your room, multiple hiding spots and the baseball bat you'd left in there. Even if they came empty handed they were the one with the weapon right now, you had to be careful.

As you make your way slowly and soundlessly down the hall way you hear a small beep come from your bedroom just as you stand in the doorway of the bathroom. You don't own anything that beeps. This thought causes you to freeze in place all but your thumb which hits the dial button.

Just in time too, because in your stupor a large figure in a black ski mask opens the door to your bedroom. You barely have time to react to the sudden appearance before they come barreling into you. A sharp pain bursts in the back of your head as it collides with the wall that you are tackled into. Phone forgotten, instinctively you bring both hands to your attacker's face.

They may be wearing a ski mask but it will do little to protect their eyes against your nails. Thankfully they have a stupid red frowny face decorating the mask, giving you the perfect target for their eyes. Not expecting your quick reflexes the attacker pulls away slightly trying to get out of your reach, and get your hands off of their mask. They must be worried you'll find out their identity, and while that would be nice you'd enjoy surviving this encounter a lot more. So you continue your assault on your would be assaulter.

A large hand comes down and swoops both of yours in a crushing grip. Harshly yanking them away from their face. Unfortunately for them they'd gotten one of your knees pressed against your chest when they tackled you. With the new distance between your bodies you're able to lift your leg up higher and kick at them.

“Get OFF of me..you piece of SHIT.” more force exerted on certain words while you kicked them solidly in the chest.

Their grip actually gets tighter on your hands as you knock the air out of their lungs. Aside from that and their pained grunts they weren't giving much of a reaction. You'd be certain you weren't kicking hard enough if it wasn't for a cough that ripped through them on a particularly powerful kick to the stomach.

There's a distant warble that you can't make out, it's high pitched and annoying. Good, that irritating sound will only succeed in pissing you off more and enabling you to unleash your rage on the fucker holding you down right now.

Before you can give another blow pain erupts through your chest as it constricts. You can't breathe and you see black dots forming in your vision as you're slammed into the tile floor of your bathroom. There's a foggy feeling in your head, and that distant warble gets more frantic and higher in pitch. But you can't focus on that you can't focus on anything that isn't the merciless thudding in your chest, the pounding of your head, and the god awful static that is starting to burn your ears like a white hot fire.

With the first heavy and heaving breath you're able to take as your assailant presses you into the ground, you feel the rush of adrenaline surge through you. Without any leverage you can do little more  than squirm and thrash under the heavier figure. A brief feeling of vindication showers you as one of your arms is tugged free in your flailing. Your attacker isn't quick enough to restrain you this time and you reach your hand up to their face, this time intent on clawing it up from under the mask. That way some one would know based on the nail marks who did this, and maybe the DNA left under your skin would be enough identify them and save a future would be victim.

God you didn't want to be a victim.

Just before you can hook your fingers into their flesh they are thrown off of you. All adrenaline you had before turns into ice as you stare at their companion. The white mask with painted black features. It hadn't been a hallucination.

They hadn't been a hallucination.

They'd been in your home before. While you were there and blissfully unaware. They'd been so still, so quiet that you'd never even thought they were anything more than a messed up part of your psyche. There isn't enough time to dwell on this feeling of pure terror that spikes through you. But you still freeze in the face of the mask, only to be rewarded with an iron grip locked into your hair pulling you up by the scalp. Then you're bashed against the floor twice.

You honestly hadn't meant to play dead. In your shock it was the only thing you could do to just go limp. That once high pitched warble is now a drawn out moan almost, the static is playing at the edges of your mind as you barely make out the sound of retreating footsteps.

You want to roll onto your back but as nausea hits you at just the thought you stay on your side. Eyes fluttering against your will, this time not a tic but in an attempt to heal your body on it's limited energy reserves. You doubt you'd be able to turn over again if you needed to vomit. Hell you'd be lucky to stay conscious till someone came looking for you.

Would that be in the morning when you don't show up for work? Would it be days from now? Wait did you manage to call the Cowells?

The pounding in your head gets worse with each passing second. You officially can't keep your eyes open anymore. There's no reaction from you when you hear your front door burst open and yelling echo through the empty house. You don't stir from your sleep as someone taps you, not shaking you but just gentle taps careful to not exacerbate your injuries.

When Big Jo got to your home he slammed open your door and had his gun at the ready for your attackers. The house didn't look messed with and nothing was out of place, at least to him he'd only ever been out this far to drop little Jo off once or twice. It was quiet in your home except for a murmuring coming down the hall. So he made his way down slowly, vigilant for any sudden movement if there was anyone other than you here. He'd called your name several times since entering and hadn't received a reply.

As he got closer to the bathroom the murmuring became louder, peering in his heart stopped for a beat. The weathered man has seen a lot of shit in his time but he always hated to see a kid in your condition. Beaten with bruises littering your face and wrists all while being unresponsive as he tried to wake you. The source of the noise became clear when he saw your phone a few feet away slid into the corner away from you.

Dia was still on the line and sobbing now. If that didn't twist the knife that was already speared into his heart. Picking up your phone he spoke with his wife trying to reassure her as he felt for a pulse. You had one, one that was faster than normal. Your body was probably still reeling from what you just went through. But he wasn't a doctor and wouldn't count you out of the woods until one assessed you themself.

Jo wasn't waiting long before he heard the sirens, he went out front to meet the sheriff. After you'd been packed into an ambulance and taken to St. Francis Hospital Jo told Dia so she could meet you there. He'd stuck around while the sheriff and his deputy surveyed the area and came back to him for his statement.

“Looks like we've got most of what we needed Jo...But the kid, they got hallucinations you said?” Sheriff Owens asked.

“Why're you asking Zeke?” now wasn't the time to anger the large man as he was barely holding his normal civility.

“Now I don' mean nothin' by it – 's jus' tha' well we didn' find any evidence of a break in.”

“You think the kid coulda done that to themself? The marks on their wrists are bigger than their hands!”

“Jo, in some cases people sufferin' from delusions can do all sorts a things ta themselves... 'm just trin' ta find out if we ought ta have 'em kept in the ward for a bit.”

“They're fine. They've told me themself that they only get visual hallucinations and they can differentiate between the two.” a small lie on his part, he knows occasionally a hallucination will grab your attention for longer than it should if that were the case but he'll keep you out of the damn ward for now because this wasn't a hallucination. He had heard the struggle going on between you and someone else.

Right now his top concern was getting to the hospital and meeting up with Dia to make sure your condition was stable. If he had to lie to the sheriff to do it, so be it. Not like he wouldn't enlist his own detail to figure out what went down here. He'd let you stay with them while he contacted Lydia about updating security on her property.

Sheriff Owens didn't put up a fight on this, and said he'd swing by the hospital Wednesday to get your statement on the encounter. With that the sheriff and deputy piled into their car and left. Jo had found your keys still in the door and locked your home, a lot of good it did you but at least this way a bear wouldn't get in before they set up the new system.

Jo got to St. Francis and was greeted by his teary eyed daughter and sobbing wife. Dia really wasn't cut out for any type of violence. He's have to make sure she called her therapist this week for an extra appointment or two just to help her through this. Looking at his daughter he sees the worry in her eyes as she runs to him.

A doctor comes up to the family to inform them of your condition.

“Ah Mr. Cowell good to see you. Mx. LN is responsive right now, and in enough of their right mind to complain that we are keeping them awake.” The doctor pauses with a slight chuckle, “We have them set up with an IV drip that's giving them fluids, their pain meds, and for tonight they'll also have a caloric infusion. They mentioned that they hadn't eaten much today. So to ensure their body has the energy to heal we thought it'd be the best course of action. We're keeping them up for another hour or so before they can sleep and then we'll be keeping them for observation for at least two days.”

“Can we see YN?” little Jo interrupts.

“Unfortunately we believe they wouldn't enjoy that right now. Their injuries aren't extensive but they are quite cranky due to residual pain and hunger.” the doctor says with a smile to little Jo. “Now speaking of their injuries the worst of which is their slight concussion again we're monitoring that and they seem to be very receptive to us right now. And then there's the dislocation of their left shoulder that we've already mended and the various bruising and mental trauma they're likely to retain from the incident your wife has briefly informed us about. We'll give a card for a good therapist to you and one to Mx. LN on their departure. When can we expect the Sheriff coming?”

“Owens said Wednesday.”

“Perfect, then that should be all. If anything changes or we want to keep them longer we'll let you know right away. And Miss Cowell if you come back in the morning we're sure Mx. LN will be much more agreeable company.”

The doctor waits for a moment letting the Cowells have time to process and ask a question or two. But when nothing comes up the doctor turns away to continue their work elsewhere.

And with that the very emotionally exhausted Cowell family go home. With plans to come visit you sometime tomorrow. Big Jo does however makes a few phone calls before going to bed that night. It isn't lost on him that he's already had one employee mysteriously vanish, he doesn't like the thought that she was targeted and your next on some hit list.

[hesther-mcg]

blue dragons, part one + chapter eight

➥ pairing: eventual asami x oc 

➥ summary: the one where azula trains ursa, and gets the shock of a lifetime; or the one where a picky spirit makes himself known for the first time in ages  

➥ rating: angst i suppose

➥ warnings: mentions of past abuse 

➥ a/n: mnmxcnvxn this took forever to get out bc life is cray cray, haha srry folks but here we are!! this is quite an interesting chapter in my opinion, i really love the dynamic between ursa and azula and giving azula this opportunity means a lot. also this is an introduction to a certain blue serpentine spirit OoOoOoOoOo

also for clarification purposes, when ursa’s eyes glow, it looks like the avatar state but blue ya know

p1, chap seven  p1, chap eight  p1, chap nine  blue dragons m. list

Frustration itched at every nerve in Ursa’s body, and she let out a huff. She swiped at her bangs that fell in her face as she paced back to the bench on the far side of the training yard. Her glass of watermelon juice was almost empty, and an added weight fell on her already sagging shoulders. She downed the rest of it and returned it to its spot, perhaps a little harshly, and shook her head. 

A growl escaped her mouth and she screamed as she shot a large stream of fire at nothing in particular. Unbeknownst to her, Azula lurked in the shadows behind her. She had watched the Crown Princess -only thirteen years of age- train for a short while, her determination admirable and patience thinning. The older woman could see the mistakes that were made, minor in severity and easy to fix with a little guidance. 

It had taken a long while for her to acknowledge the likeness between her and her young niece; she hadn’t wanted to and had adamantly denied it. But one day things just clicked, and she realized that Ursa looking like her, and thinking like her, and being as powerful as her wasn’t as bad as she thought. 

Because her father was long gone.  

What had happened to Zuko would never, in a million years, happen again, and what had happened to Azula surely wouldn’t either. Her older brother had proved himself to be an amazing father, and Izumi never once lived a day thinking she hadn’t made him proud. He never spoke down to her for being a girl, he never got angry because she couldn’t make up for it with bending, and he never used her for his own personal gain. 

All of which were things Azula had been subjected to in her childhood, and had ultimately feared her niece would be as well, but was relieved to see otherwise. Their father, and his legacy, was long gone; and only when she accepted that fact could she truly accept her own growth and healing. And only when she accepted those could she accept that Ursa had all of her best qualities, and some of her not so best qualities, and if they were nurtured and guided correctly she could be like no one else. 

“My, my, Princess; have you been out here all day?” Azula inquired as she emerged from the shadows and took slow steps to the aforementioned Princess, hands clasped behind her back and head held high just like always. 

“Hey, Auntie Zula,” Ursa sighed as she bowed before rising again. “Almost; I’m going over some of the advanced moves I learned, and I’ve almost mastered them all but I can’t seem to get this last one.” She shook her head. “I’m doing exactly what my Master did, and it’s still not right. I know I’m better than this.” 

“You are,” the older woman responded without missing a beat. She paced in front of her young niece. “You are better than this, this is but a mere moment in your path to mastering the element. You’re incredibly skilled, Ursa, never forget that. Before too much longer you’ll surpass your Master and they will no longer be able to do you any good. I was going to step in after that, but I can see that now is as good a time as ever.” 

“Really?” One would have to be deaf to miss the eagerness laced in her question. 

“Of course,” Azula turned sharply in place. “I know exactly what mistakes you’re making; though, it’s not your fault. I hate to tell you this, Princess, but your Master is a doofus.” The younger girl giggled from behind her hand. “Are you a dragon?” 

The question caught Ursa off guard. “Huh?” 

“Are you a dragon?” She repeated slowly. The look in her eyes was familiar, she had seen it in her father’s, grandmother’s, and great grandfather’s eyes many times before. She’d seen it in the mirror only once or twice; it was a look of true seriousness, one you could only get when, you might not know what you’re doing, but, you know that whatever it is you can do it. She tried her best to mimic it in her own matching eyes. 

“Yes. I am a dragon.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Azula stated smugly. “Only dragons can teach dragons, Ursa, and since The Great Dragon of the West is no longer with us, I only see it fitting that I take over as your Master. After all,” she raised one hand in front of her, and blue fire floated in her palm. “We do have twin flames.”  

The pair shared a smile before Azula extinguished the flame and returned her hand to its rightful place, clasped in the other behind her back. Ursa placed one hand, fingers straight and palm pointed to the side, above the other, which was closed in a fist. She bowed deeply, “thank you for teaching me, Sifu Azula.” She rose back up and turned away from her Master. She faced straight ahead, ready for anything. “What should I do first?” 

Lady Azula smiled to herself. “Your punches and kicks were good, but everything has room for improvement. You’re not putting enough power into your jump, and then not putting enough power in the flames. Let’s break it down. Take your stance.” 

Ursa positioned herself in the stance she normally chose. Her grandfather had shown it to her, and she figured out that it was the one that worked easiest with her dynamic. Her left foot forward, right foot behind her. Knees slightly bent. Arms out before her, elbows slightly bent as well. Palms open, fingers relaxed. Ready to strike. 

“Remember, firebending comes from the breath. Focus on the fire inside of you, and breathe in deeply; allow the air to reach the flames. Let your chi flow freely, the reason our fire burns blue is because it is pure. Your river is unblocked, your chi’s are synced and your power flows through you. Pure, clean, untethered fire. You have the power, be the thing that controls it.” 

Deep breaths. Unlocked chi’s. Flowing river. The Princesses eyes had long since closed, and she envisioned all the things her aunt spoke about. 

“Reposition,” Azula coaxed quieter, seeing the concentration on Ursa’s face. 

The girl’s hands formed fists, clenched tightly, and her left arm straightened itself out. Her right fist drew back and rested right beside her eyes. 

“Now, punch.” 

It was like time moved in slow motion Her eyes snapped open before narrowing into a squint. Her brows drew together and her face scrunched up. She lunged her right fist forward, stepping into the punch with her right foot; bringing as much power as she could for the opening attack. Her fists lit ablaze, encircled with blue, and she punched a rather large fireball straight ahead. Her grunts were barely audible over the loud swoosh of the flames. 

Ursa dealt one strike after the other, slowly making her way forward, sometimes ducking to avoid a blow from an imaginary opponent. “Kick,” Azula commanded loudly. 

One last punch before she kicked her right leg in a half circle, flames following closely.  They lingered in the air and Ursa spun around and shielded herself from view with more blue fire. “Now jump!” 

A moment passed, a moment where the older woman’s breath caught in her lungs. Then, before any particular emotion could truly settle in her bones, Ursa leapt out from the wall of blue flames, a look of ferocity painting her features. She landed on her feet and sprung forward not a moment later; she took one step, two steps, three...

And on her final step she jumped high in the air, and Azula’s voice cut through the noise, “Roar!” 

Flames from her feet propelled her upwards, a gust of blue, and the same shot out of her hands. Her face scrunched up as her cry echoed around the training yard, a stream of fire shooting out of her open mouth. Everything was blue, all Azula could see was blue. And all she could feel was heat. 

But what really shocked her, what really made her brows scrunch together and her jaw drop, was the Princesses eyes, once a piercing golden brown, were now completely blue. The fire around her swirled and moved until it started to take form. The form of a dragon.

Of course. Of course. It made sense, everything about her fit the role. 

“The Spirit of the Dragon…” She whispered in awe. It was a phenomenon that she never thought she would be alive to witness, and she would never tell a soul about the tears that filled her eyes as she watched her great niece display her sheer power. 

When the roar died down, and Ursa’s flames shrunk, and she dropped to the ground, her eyes fell shut and her knees gave out. She caught herself with her hands and shook her head. With a couple groans, and a few deep breaths she was back on her feet. 

“Holy shit.” A voice broke the silence. Azula turned around only to see her older brother; Zuko’s mouth hung open and his arms were limp at his side. 

“That-” the Princess cut herself off to catch her breath. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she chuckled lowly. Her eyes flickered from her great aunt and great grandfather. She didn’t know how to feel about what had just occurred. On one hand, she knew that her family would never think any different of her for anything, they had always told her that nothing could ever make them not love her; but on the other, insecurity and fear seemed like the obvious answer. 

What if they thought she was too powerful? What if they feared she would be the demise of the Fire Nation? She didn’t even know what took over her, what if it was something evil? What if, what if, what if- 

“Ursa,” Azula broke her train of thought. She snapped back to reality, heart in her stomach, and looked at the older woman. “Do you know what just happened?” Dread pricked at every nerve in her body and she shook her head. Her fingers began to tremble and she clenched her hands into fists to hide it. 

“That was the Spirit of the Dragon, my dear. A powerful spirit of the very first dragon; it has possessed only few people throughout history, not nearly as much as the Avatar, but hasn’t made itself known in centuries. My, Ursa,” Zuko marveled. “It chose you, how incredible.” 

“I’m not-I’m not in trouble?” She stuttered. 

“Of course not,” Azula shook her head and made her way to the girl, hands reaching out. They rested on her shoulders and she leaned down so their eyes met. “I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to worry. What happened to me will never happen to you, I promise you that. Do you know what the Spirit of the Dragon means exactly?” The girl shook her head before her aunt continued. 

“The Spirit of the Dragon, like Zuzu explained before, is a very powerful spirit. It has joined with numerous people over the course of time, merging with them and bestowing knowledge and strength upon them like no other. It can’t just be anybody, however,” she paused and looked over at the bench. She motioned to it with her hand and the three of them traveled to it together, and they made sure that Ursa sat in between them. “The kind of people that the Dragon Spirit chooses are powerful, people who are destined to do great things in this world. The power to stand up to people, for people, and with people is incredible. It might sound simple, but most people can’t say they passed the test. You did.” 

“We’ve known since the day you were born that you held incredible powers and an even more important destiny,” the older man took over. “But we never could have imagined this for you.” He chuckled lightly and shook his head. 

Azula took that as her cue to continue. “But we’ve never, ever, feared that you would do something wrong, or that you would be too powerful for your own good. And no matter what happens, to you or to us, and no matter what you have to go through, we’ll always be with you.” 

Ursa nodded her head and wiped her cheeks of any tears. Her eyes were red and swollen, but her hands no longer trembled and her shoulders only slightly shook as she calmed down. 

“Now,” Lady Azula stated, her tone back to the normal smooth and sharp drawl. “Are you a dragon?” 

“Yes.” Ursa looked at her and tried with everything she had to convey just how much she meant it. 

“Who are you?” The question cut through the air sharply, and a moment later the younger girl's eyes changed colors again, both glowing a bright blue. 

“I am Crown Princess Ursa of the Fire Nation, Heir to the Throne; I am the Dragon Princess and I have the power of the first dragon’s spirit!” 

➥ tag list: @talas-starlight  @ewanssdjarins  @appa-gaangnam-style  @strawberisapphic  @avatarsnips​  @graciefullygracie​

[imxeracus]

Baby Steps

Pairing: Gruvia ofc Inspired by FT 100 Years Quest Chapter 58. Sorry I took so long! But here’s one for the books. :) I used the “I’m glad you’re safe” part because a lot of people did the ballroom reference. I might do that one day but not now haha. Also about the places I’m not really accurate okay. I didn’t go check where everyone was exactly so please don’t attack me on it. Here you guys go anyway. Enjoy hopefully? Also this became too long I’m sry ––––––––––– “Damn, this town is confusing.”   Gray and Juvia sat down on a bench nearby, panting heavily. Before this were running across the streets looking left and right for any signs of their own guild members. They were surprised that they cannot find any in sight as they were just together not too long ago. It did not help that they were just fighting earlier on as well. Juvia was thirsty, and she wondered if Gray – well, was thirsty too after all that and wanted to suggest he ought to drink some water. Her water, to be exact.   She blushed at the thought of it. She did not mean anything else but it did seem a little awkward and she worried that it would ruin the mood they have been having. She shook her head. No, she thought. Gray-sama wouldn’t get turn off just because of this right? Things are different now between him and Juvia – maybe, but still…. She took a glance at him and sees that he Is still trying to catch his breath when Juvia already managed to compose herself. Without further ado she reached out for his shoulder to inquire when a voice was heard in both of their minds.   “Gray, Juvia, are you guys alright? where are the both of you?” This voice..   “Warren! Is that you?” Gray spoke up in surprise.   “Glad to hear you guys are alright. We are over at the west side of this town, where Natsu is. We went to find him.”   “That explains why you guys were not near us! We’ll head over there now. Thanks man.”   “See you guys.”   With that Warren shut down his telepathic powers and Gray got up almost immediately, Juvia following suit. He did not seem to be panting anymore, but excited to go back to where everyone else were. The duo continued to walk their way towards the west side, the distance way further than they expected. However, they eventually reached and sure enough saw them all, gathered around a battered, but very cheerful pink dragon slayer.  They were observing the scene — where Lucy was on the brink of crying as Natsu consoled her with a pat on the head. Juvia’s heart went giddy at the sight of it as she recalled how Gray also did something similar to that. She smiled to herself as she touched her own cossack hat, not daring to look at Gray to wonder if he felt the same. “’Yer look like a freak, smiling to yourself like that.” She felt a huge weight on top of her head as her body sunk down a little in surprise, and looked at the person who caused it with fondly discontentment. “Gajeel-kun.” “Yo.” Gajeel smirked. “Guess you two got ‘em good, huh?” “Gajeel! I was wondering where you wen- Oh, Gray and Juvia are back too!” Levy came and proceeded to hug Juvia with care, not hurting her belly. “I’m so glad the two of you are safe!” “Juvia’s glad too that everything worked out fine in the end.” “How did you guys defeat him? Was it with the power of love?” Levy grew a suspicious smile as Juvia blushed and mumbled incoherently at that bold statement, unsure of what to say. She wanted to say that it was, but Gray was rather vague and did not mention the word “love”. Even though she was rather confident it was, but she did not immediately dare to say so.  Before she could think of saying anything, Gray cleared his throat and it caught the rest of their attention. His head was hung low, daring himself to glance at Juvia with a look that she could not comprehend as he quickly looked away. “I’m gonna go rest for abit.” With that he took his leave, leaving all of them and Juvia, confused. He looked as if he wanted to tell her something but did not. What did his look meant? “Guess Ice Boy has some ants in his pants.” Levy lightly smacked him and reprimanded him for his rude statement, as Juvia walked away. She was curious yet concerned as to what he wanted to tell her. However, the bluenette decided to shake it off as went to rest. The guild was planning to host a celebration tonight before leaving the next day.  With nothing much packed, she wore her usual outfit and was relieved to see everyone doing the same. She was worried that it was going to be something grand and did not want to look plain — however this was her guild, she should have known it was going to be casual with lots of brawling involved. She caught sight of her beloved as he was having his usual brawl with Natsu before the reequip mage came and put it to an end, rendering them defeated and begging for her mercy. She giggled at the sight of it and went to take a drink herself as she sat with Cana, Lucy and Levy for the night. They were talking about the mother-to-be as the bookworm was expecting in a few months time. Juvia smiled as they converse, though she could not help but feel a little envious whenever she heard about her iron dragon slayer friend ironing out his life well with a partner and eventually, becoming a father himself.  She glanced at Gray from afar and wondered if they would reach that point of becoming lovers. Recently, things have been different for them despite him leaving her for the quest temporarily. She never knew the reason why, but today got her mind in circles. She’s my power to live. I’m glad you’re safe. .... I’m gonna go rest for abit. Juvia shook it off and knew that if Gray did not want to talk about it, she could never force him. Though she silently wished in her heart that he would tell her more. Eventually, the night passed but instead of staying back to drink with the rest, she decided that it was time to go as she would be leaving early the next day. She began to walk back in peaceful silence with her head titled downwards, deep in thoughts about her beloved ice mage. Juvia sighed as she wondered how she would to face him tomorrow. If possible, the bluenette did not want to leave before getting the clarification she so desired. “I didn’t think you’d be excusing yourself this soon.” Juvia turned in surprise to see none other than Gray Fullbuster – the man who has been in her thoughts – in flesh himself. “Juvia didn’t think it’d be wise to get wasted again before leaving tomorrow, what about you Gray-sama?” She quickly smiled as his eyes rolled in immediate response to her question.

“Me? No way in hell I’m gonna go through the Christmas drama again.” She giggled at how typical his response was, while Gray soften his gaze on her as she did so. He slightly blushed, knowing that what he mentioned was only half true. “Well...” The ice mage scratches the back of his neck, feeling a little nervous. “I also–um, saw you going out.” “Eh–? Gray-sama saw Juvia?” He saw her the moment she was feeling flustered earlier on. He heard her faint laughter from afar as he brawled with Natsu. He saw her as she went to sit with the girls.  He saw her leaving the place with a saddened look on her face, which hurt him so badly. His eyes became half lidded as he pulled her right wrist gently with his left hand, hearing a small gasp leave her lips. Little did she know – he too had been wondering how to talk to her before she goes back. He too, wanted her to know more about his feelings, but it was a challenge for a person like him. I was looking at you the whole time, Gray thought to himself, but struggled to get the words out of his mouth. Too many years has it been building up his own wall of ice, that it became difficult for him to tear it back down. “Baby steps.” He managed. “Let’s take baby steps together.” He looked up instantly when her body became feeble from his grasp to find Juvia in her lovestruck state. “G-G-Gray-sama wants to have a baby with Juvia!?” “I-I didn’t mean THAT!” Gray quickly defended as he tried to shake it off her with his hands on her shoulders, beet red as a tomato. “ Calm down Juvia! I want us to work out but I can’t go all the way yet!” Juvia eventually compose herself and Gray slapped his forehead, sighing as he wondered why did he not think through his words more. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die somewhere, but knew there was no turning back on the things he said. “What I mean is–um–I know I promised you an answer. I made you wait for so long and I know you want this to work. I-I want the same.” Juvia’s heart melted at the sincerity of his voice as he went on. “I know it would take a long time being the fool I am, but I want us to take small steps to our relationship. I’m really bad at my words, Juvia. I’m really bad at public affections but–um–” He nervously took her hand in his and gulped loudly, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “This is okay for a start?” He averted his gaze. It was too much for him to bear after his grand speech. She too flushed at his actions, but managed to smile softly and squeezed his hand in response. “Yes, Gray-sama.” They began to walk together hand in hand back, feeling each others’ warmth. She looked at Gray’s back as he was ahead of her slightly and could tell how red he was by the ears. Her heart squeezed, knowing he was trying hard for her sake and she appreciated it. The water mage smiled to herself as could not believe how a simple journey back to her room became unexpectedly pleasant.  “When I get back, maybe we should have a d-date or something.”  And it could not get any better than this.

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 64)

Loose Ends

Yep, I’m still alive! Just not spending any time at all writing 😅😬 Here’s another chapter anyway, I hope you enjoy! Also, happy holidays and here’s hoping for a better 2021!!

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

We moved west, staying north, and found a place to camp far from where any Pinkertons were still patrolling. We travelled for hours, all through the remaining hours of the night, through the morning and into the afternoon. We ended up at Cotorra Springs when the sun began to set; it was cooler there and when we found a spot away from any trails, pretty secluded, we decided it was as good a place as any. The rushing sound of the geysers erupting every now and then kept making me jump at first but soon became a somewhat comforting sound. A reminder that no matter what happened, life always carried on, the world wasn't going to stop spinning and fall to pieces just yet.

We set up a small campsite with a few tents and a fire, over which we cooked meat from a deer that Charles had hunted while the rest of us set up. None of us knew how long we would be there but it was clear that we all needed some food and some rest before we even attempted to figure out our next move. We all sat around the fire with our food and little Jack was asleep with Cain by his side; the dog had tagged along with us on our journey, jumping atop the Marston's wagon whenever he got too tired.

"What exactly are we all gonna do?" John was the first one to bring up the elephant in the room, and everyone turned to eye him almost irritatedly.

Nobody spoke up or offered any sort of response, and after a moment, Lenny threw his hat in the ring.

"It's a good question. We can't live like this forever, can we?"

"Course not," Arthur said. He didn't quite snap the words but they weren't untroubled. "We've got a chest full of money on that wagon, we'll… we'll figure out what everyone wants to do and split it accordingly."

"I don't want a penny of that money," Sadie hissed, then spat into the fire, "reeks of Dutch and Micah and dirty betrayal."

"Hey, that implies it was all their money. Dutch barely put a penny in if it weren't from a job we all did together," John scoffed.

"I don't want it either but let's be rational. We're gonna need it," Charles said, looking at Sadie. "We didn't just go through all that only to starve to death at the end of it, all because of pride."

"He's got a point," I agreed. "I don't think any of us should have a problem taking that bastard's money," I added.

"Ain't his money," John shook his head, picking at something stuck in his teeth, "it's our half, fair 'n' square."

"Yeah," I nodded after a moment, but frowned a little. Silence lingered. 

"It's obvious none of us feel too good about takin' it," Abigail broke it, stating the unspoken.

"I feel fine," John snorted.

"Me too, for the most part," I hesitantly agreed. Arthur sighed beside me and everyone looked at him.

"For the love of God, not a single one of you refuse that money. This is hard enough, at this point, that money's the only thing that made this possible. Without money, we're trapped, and if we're trapped, we'll end up in the damn ground," he told us through tensely gritted teeth. More silence followed, broken by Susan.

"You're right, Mr. Morgan. This ain't no time for pride and making things needlessly hard on ourselves. We've just gotta take this opportunity to get the heck out of this mess, so I don't wanna hear no bellyaching from any of you," she said sternly, and John nodded in agreement. Lenny took a breath, and nodded too. 

"And what're you gonna do Miss Grimshaw?" I asked her softly. She met my eyes across the fire, her brows arching a little in surprise that I'd asked. 

"Me? I'm- I'm–" she began hesitantly, and glanced at the others before letting out a breath. 

"You ain't thought about it none?" Abigail asked, and Susan turned her gaze to her.

"Quite the opposite," she scoffed a laugh, then patted the side of her hair bun in an attempt at brushing back fly-aways. "Maybe I'm just a little bit ashamed to admit that I've been planning for this for a while."

My eyes widened, and so did most of the others'. 

"Oh come on. Please. A woman would have to be foolish to not consider a few back up plans in this way of life. Especially with how things have been the past few months. Even Miss O'Shea had her plans," she added, and my eyes dropped down at her mention. I always felt strange about the whole Molly situation, considering I was potentially the last person to really talk to her.

"You ain't wrong. So what's your plan?" Abigail asked. 

"I know a lot of people Miss Roberts, I have options," she chuckled. "But I think I envision a future in moonshine. An old friend of mine's been wanting to go into business together for a while now, I think I'll pay her a visit."

"Which old friend is this, anyone we know?" Arthur questioned.

"No. If you knew her, you'd know exactly who I'm talking about. She ain't a lady you easily forget," Susan chuckled, shaking her head. 

"Ain't nothing to do with those Braithwaites, then?" John snorted and Susan rolled her eyes.

"The Maggie I know would sooner hang than have anything to do with those idiots," she laughed. I smiled as I watched her laugh, feeling my admiration for her swell. Susan was a woman I would never be like, and I knew I'd miss her sorely despite all of the times I'd giggled when one of the girls would roll their eyes or pull a face at her behind her back. I knew everyone had a lot of love for her, and I did too. 

"What about you then, Lenny?" Arthur asked. "What's your plan?"

"Ohh, I'll be a rolling stone for a while I think, see where life takes me. I’d like to… learn,” he said almost hesitantly, a mild frown puckering the skin between his brows. His eyes lifted and settled on Charles for a brief moment, “maybe, if the stars align, I might just have a chance at making something of myself,” he laughed, but there was an ugly reality behind his words that bittered them slightly, though he kept smiling, and it was no accident that it was Charles that his eyes landed on. The smile that Charles returned to him was one of quiet understanding.

“My father, he wanted me to be a lawyer,” Lenny turned his grin to me, his eyes brightening a little. “From bank robber to lawyer, can you imagine that?”

I chuckled, despite the fact that with Lenny’s intelligence, charisma and articulateness, I didn't doubt his capability.

“Dutch always said I had too much potential to stay robbing banks for the rest of my life,” he breathed, looking down into the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes, making them shine bright even though his energy dulled a little at his mention. Yet another silence fell across the campfire and I kept my eyes on the young man before me, so full of potential yet held back by so many factors far out of his control, and my heart hurt.

“I think that's the only thing I know of that came out of his mouth and made a lick of sense,” I noted. He looked at me, held my gaze for a few moments, then released a quiet breath.

“Maybe I’ll head to Washington D.C. Try to get a job, or go to school. I don't know about being a lawyer,” he breathed a laugh and shook his head, “but doing something… more than what I have been doing. That’d be good. I think my dad would be proud of that.”

“Your dad would be proud of you already, Lenny. I mean that. You’re a good kid, got a good heart,” Arthur told him, and everyone made a show of agreement, nodding, humming confirmations and patting him on the shoulder. 

“Thanks, all’a you, I… it's been quite a ride, ain’t it?” Lenny sighed. 

“That it has…” Charles trailed off. 

“And I think I’m gonna hit the hay,” Abigail announced, dropping her plate on the ground before rising to her feet. I watched as she very carefully bundled Jack up into her arms. “Goodnight, y’all.”

“Goodnight,” the rest of us whispered softly, as if suddenly we would all wake up the boy, even though he’d been sleeping just fine before. 

“I need some sleep too,” John agreed, and it set off a chain reaction, and Lenny and Susan retired to their sleeping spots. Charles drained the contents of his bottle of the beer that Sadie had managed to snag before we all left. 

“Arthur, tomorrow night we should…” he said quietly as he rose to his feet, trailing off. Arthur met his eyes and stared silently for a while, then nodded. 

“We will.”

“Alright. Thank you,” Charles nodded, then headed towards his tent.

“I weren’t planning on leaving him, not for a second,” Arthur called after him and Charles waved a hand dismissively, smiling over his shoulder at him.

“I know. Goodnight, folks,” he added, then crawled inside his tent to bed down for the night. I glanced at Arthur for some clarification and his eyes dropped to the ground.

“Eagle Flies got captured by the army. I said I’d break him out, I have to, princess–”

“Don't think I’m gonna try to stop you,” I whispered. He turned his head towards me, and I kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you. He got caught when I was helping Dutch screw the lot of ‘em over, pretending to be helpful. I gotta speak to him and his father, tell them about what happened with the gang today. Eagle Flies can’t keep on trusting him, getting sucked in by his fancy words just like I did at his age. It won’t do anyone any good in the end,” he explained, and I nodded in agreement.

"You need some help breaking him out?" Sadie questioned. Arthur met her eyes and shook his head. 

"Charles has a plan, shouldn't need more than the two of us."

"In that case, maybe there's something you can help me with instead," she said, leaning forwards, elbows on knees. My stomach squeezed a bit at the way her eyes lit with devilish determination. "O'Driscolls. There's a bunch of 'em hiding out over at Hanging Dog Ranch."

"Sadie–" Arthur began, his hand raising.

"With Colm gone and with just a few stragglers left, we can end those bastards for good," she cut him off, her hands clenching into fists. I took a breath and looked down at my feet, pressing my lips together.

"Sadie, I… I don't think we– we just got out of a bad situation, we're doing all we can just to get by–" he began again, and I could feel his tense but careful sympathy in his tone.

"We can finish 'em. We can. This is all I got left now, bringing some kinda justice to those sick bastards after what they did to me, what they did to my husband," she leaned forwards even more, her body tensing up, I could see her from the corner of my eye, getting full of desperation. I sensed Arthur glance at me.

My heart ached. We were finally away from Dutch and I had hoped that it would be the end of Arthur risking his life over grudges. I could handle him going with Charles to break a good man out of prison, I wasn't happy about the risk he was putting himself at but I knew he had to do it. But going to kill O'Driscolls? I was so conflicted. Sadie deserved closure over what happened to her husband, but I didn't want to lose Arthur over it. I couldn't stand it if we came this far only to–

"Please, Arthur. I need someone to ride with me. I can't go in there on my own but if I got no one–” Sadie's voice cracked and my eyes flashed up to her. "You're the only one I trust to do this with me and do it right. And I gotta do it, Arthur, I can't just let them get away with it. Please."

I stared at Sadie, feeling her pain emanating from her in waves, it made the hairs on my arms stand up and bile rise in my throat. My eyes tingled as tears threatened to form there, and Arthur looked at me again. Then Sadie did. Suddenly, I found, it was my choice, without even saying a word. 

I nervously toyed with the locket around my neck, and saw Arthur's eyes momentarily flitter down to it. 

"Arthur you–" I began after some time, when it was made clear that they were waiting on my blessing. Mine. Like I had any control over anything. "Sadie's done so much for us," I said monotonously, though it wasn't without feeling, "it's clear she needs this." 

"Thank you!" Sadie exhaled, and I rose to my feet. 

"I need to sleep," I whispered, then stepped over the log I'd been sitting on and headed for the tent I shared with Arthur. "Goodnight."

I climbed inside and laid down on my bedroll, wrapping myself up in the blanket and curling up on my side. I could hear quiet voices outside the tent, a muffled mix of soft tones from both Sadie and Arthur, none of which I could make out as words. It was only a few minutes before cool air filled the tent as the flap was pulled back, and Arthur climbed in beside me. He shuffled around, getting under his own blanket and scooting up behind me, his hand gingerly resting on my hip.

"Princess," he whispered. I made a small hum of acknowledgement. "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head, and Arthur exhaled, then kissed the shell of my ear. 

"Talk to me, please."

"I'm sorry Arthur. I'm trying not to put a leash on you, and trying to give Sadie the opportunity to get justice for her husband. All the while I'm worrying any one of these jobs people have you doing'll be the one that kills you. Right when we're finally doing what we've been waiting for," I whispered. Arthur's hand gently drifted up and down my side, his lips still at my ear giving me little pecks. 

"I could try to reassure you, but it won't help, will it?" He said softly, sadly. I shook my head. "What do you want me to do instead?" 

"Nothing. I don't want you to do anything, Arthur. I can't ask you not to do all these things. That's why I came in here to sleep, cause I know anything I say ain't gonna do any good."

"Are you angry with me?"

"No, I'm not," I breathed, then rolled over to face him. "I'm not mad, I'm worried. And I'll be worried until we're away from here for good. That's it. All I need from you is just to hold me right now, so I can enjoy the time I have with you," I told him, and kissed his chin. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head.

"Just a couple more jobs, princess, then it's over. I promise," he told me. 

"Please keep your word," I whispered, closing my eyes and nestling my face into his collar. 

"I will. I'm under nobody's thumb no more, I do what I want. These things, they're just… they're things I gotta do for my friends. I know you understand that, right?"

"I do. It's why I'm not stopping you."

"I'm real lucky I have you. And that you're like this. You're a good woman," he told me and I chuckled, shaking my head a little. 

"You don't have to flatter me, Arthur."

"I ain't flattering. I'm thanking you. Thank you," he said, pressed his lips momentarily to the crown of my head. "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied. 

After a few moments of silence, Arthur spoke again. "Can I ask you something? Or shall I let you sleep?"

"Now I'm curious about the question. Go on," I answered.

"Where'd you get that locket from? The one you been wearing since I got back. Looks familiar." 

The question surprised me. It wasn't anything like what I was expecting, and I laughed. Then stopped when I considered my answer. My heart was suddenly pounding because I knew I had to address how I had felt while he was away in Guarma.

"It was Susan's," I told him. "She gave it to me."

"That'll be why it's familiar," he mused. 

"It has a photograph of you inside it," I added. He was quiet for a moment.

"It does?" He questioned, tone going up a note.

I hummed my confirmation. "I… I was real bad for a while when you was gone. Susan wanted to cheer me up. I haven't taken it off since."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"A little. It was nice to have something of you, at least. But it didn't hurt any less, that you were gone."

"It would've been a comfort to have something of you with me while I was away. I thought about you constantly, I wanted to see your face just once… I didn't even have my journal, with my drawings of you. They don't live up to the real thing but they're something, at least," he whispered, squeezing me tight. 

"Let me see them," I whispered, kissing his collar bone. He made a small sound, a sort of hum, sort of sigh. 

"My drawings?"

I nodded as I moved back a little to look at him. "I've only seen a couple of your drawings of me. How many have you done?" 

"More than you've seen," he chuckled sheepishly, then rolled onto his back, staring up at the top of the tent. I shifted onto my elbow and gazed down at him. 

"May I see?" I questioned insistently, his grin widened. He was embarrassed, it was clear. "It's just me," I whispered, stroking my hand over his chest.

"Just you? That's the problem."

"Problem?"

"I'm worried I'll embarrass you." 

"Why would I be embarrassed?" I laughed. Arthur sighed and met my eyes. 

"Get my journal," he acquiesced. I giggled and sat up, reaching for his satchel that sat by his feet. I retrieved the journal and handed it to him, but he nodded towards me, urging me to keep it. "Take a look, princess." 

[mothsandbutterflies13]

Musings on Shadow and Bone Pt 1

Disclaimer: this is some VERY surface-level thoughts and musings on what I was able to see, what I've gleaned from reading the already-prolific selection that is the Shadow and Bone fanfiction writings, and my own experiences with YA fantasy and YA character archetypes. I haven't read the books and I don't know if I will because, APPARENTLY, DARKLINA ISN'T ENDGAME! As for the TV series, I've only watched the first two episodes in full. I jumped around the rest of the season and I've never seen the ending. Though, knowing what I do from the few spoiler screenshots I've seen, I don't think I'll ever watch the ending.

Story Narrative and World-building: So, for the uninitiated, Shadow and Bone is set in a fantasy/steampunk world based on several different regions of the world in different time periods. Ravka is based on Tsarist Russia in the early 19th century. Kerch is based on the Dutch Republic in the same time period. Shu Han is an amalgamation of Imperial China and Mongolia (probably during the Yuan dynasty). And Fjerda is based on Scandinavia. (Noyvi Zem is said to be based on the US, Australia, and some other places, but as the Netflix series didn't touch on it, neither am I.) Between the three mainland countries - Ravka, Shu Han, and Fjerda - there has been an ongoing war for an undetermined amount of time. Ravka is also facing a growing threat of secession in the west because of the Fold that has been separating the west from the east for five centuries now. In the middle of all this, we meet our female protagonist, Alina Starkov, and her childhood best friend, Malyen Oretsev, who are soldiers in the First Ravkan Army. While crossing the Fold on assignment, Alina discovers that she is the legendary Sun Summoner, the only hope to tear down the Fold. She now needs to cultivate her powers in the political cesspool that is Os Alta and the court of the Tsar, all the while trying to figure out her feelings for General Kirigan of the Second Army and if Mal really is just a childhood best friend. Meanwhile, in Ketterdam, it seems that someone is willing to pay a million kruge for the Sun Summoner to be kidnapped then transported back to Ketterdam. Kaz Brekker and his gang, the Crows, seize on the huge payout (each for their own reasons) and cross the Fold with the help of a smuggler. So, that's a very basic rundown of the first two episodes of the first season. Now, I get to dig into my favorite part; dissection and analysis! First, there seemed to be a lot of details pertinent to the plot that were either only mentioned or never touched upon. Like, Kaz is shown to be desperate for this payout, but other than natural human greed for more money, I can't think of why he'd want to risk crossing the Fold to grab someone that may not be alive. But, from what I saw of Kaz, this seemed to be more than just another job to him. There was something more to his motivation but we were never told what. Or how the Fold is never really explained until the General takes Alina out on a horse riding date. Long after she's found out to be the Sun Summoner. However, the Fold in itself is a catalyst to a lot of events, both past and present, so it doesn't make sense that it would take this long for such an important landmark to be explained to the audience. No matter that the in-world characters would know this fact, we as the audience don't know. Also, we never learn WHY Ravka is in a never-ending war with Fjerda and Shu Han. Theoretically, I could come up with half a dozen reasons for WHY but I'd like some clarification, ya know? The irrationality of humans, a religious war (looking at you, Fjerda), gluttony for knowledge, propaganda, fear of the unknown, etc. Any one of these could be a reason for how the war started (or it could be a twisted version of the truth), but we're not told or shown. We're just expected to believe there's this great big war that affects everyone in Ravka. That's a HUGE suspension of disbelief for me. Also, I read on the wiki that Shu Han and Fjerden tech are equal to - and in some cases greater - than Ravkan tech. Ergo, why the fuck is this war still going on!? If two out of the three warring countries can essentially just technologically smash their way through the remaining country's army, why does Shadow and Bone exist? I want to know why this war still exists. I want to know the reasoning behind the secessionists. I want to know what religion Inej subscribes to. Who are the Saints Alina keeps referring to in her frequent exclamations? The infamous pickled herring I've read about? The war and the toll it takes on the people. I want to see this war hit close to home for, not just Alina, but also the rest of the cast. I

know Alina was orphaned by a Shu Han raid when she was a child, but that can't have been the only raid. Just because permafrost and some mountains separate Fjerda and Ravka doesn't mean that those druskelle or even the Fjerdan army will take a break. The goddamned Fire Nation was a group of islands far removed from the mainland, yet still managed to build a navy on a scale never before seen and attacked the other three nations resulting in a century-long war. As far as Shadow and Bone canon goes, these wars have been practically non-stop for waaaaay longer than that and you're telling me neither Fjerda nor Shu Han have figured out how to launch a full-scale attack against Ravka? And if they haven't or held back for some reason, then please enlighten me (really, I unironically want to know) (And don't tell me to go read the books). Because from where I'm sitting, that Lantsov dynasty is looking mighty weak and corrupt. A few well-placed words and that entire house of cards would crumble. And with such a weak tsar and enemies closing in from all sides, why doesn't Aleksander unleash his full potential? I'm not saying create another Fold, but isn't he supposed to be the most powerful grisha in all of Ravka? What are the politics at court? What's preventing Aleksander from taking that final step? Are there possible allies among the courtiers who would be sympathetic to the Grisha plight? Who also agrees that the current Tsar is weak, corrupt, and draining the treasury? I want to know if there was ever another way for Aleksander to achieve his goals without resorting to violence and bloodshed. I want to know what else Alina can do with her powers, barring balls of light and one shield. What's Kaz's motivation for accepting the job? Are Ivan and Fedyor ever going to get together!? So many questions but no answers.

Something a bit nitpicky, but why are these characters all speaking with British accents!? (Don't @ me with Nina and Matthias cuz I skipped over their scenes) (They weren't Darklina, ok!?) The ONLY character to speak with a BELIEVABLE Slavic accent was Fedyor and that's only because the actor was from a Slavic-speaking country. Everyone else, from Alina down to the soldiers in the First Army, all speak with a British accent. I thought Ravka was based on Tsarist Russia. Where's my Russian then? Or at least Russian accents? I thought TV shows were supposed to be immersive. What the fuck is this then? (Game of Thrones got away with it because it was mainly set in a world similar to our own, but vastly different in terms of culture and religion. It even made up two languages to make it more immersive. Shadow and Bone doesn't necessarily have to do that because it's so similar to real-life Russia that all it had to do to score immersive points was have the actors speak in believable Russian accents.)

I will post part two later. Again, this is literally all just my opinion and my thoughts on the show. I don't mind friendly discourse and debate but I won't be merciful to trolls.

[fiadhaisteach]

New York Times: text under cut

What Lockdown 2.0 Looks Like: Harsher Rules, Deeper Confusion    

By Damien Cave

_________________________________________________________

Melbourne, Australia’s second-largest city, is becoming a case study in handling a second wave of infections. There are lots of unanswered questions.

Credit...William West/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images

Australia’s second-largest city, Melbourne, is grappling with a spiraling coronavirus outbreak that has led to a lockdown with some of the toughest restrictions in the world — offering a preview of what many urban dwellers elsewhere could confront in coming weeks and months.

The new lockdown is the product of early success; the country thought it had the virus beat in June. But there was a breakdown in the quarantine program for hotels. Returning travelers passed the virus to hotel security guards in Melbourne, who carried the contagion home.

Even after masks became mandatory in the city two weeks ago, the spread continued. And now, as officials try to break the chain of infections, Melbourne is being reshaped by sweeping enforcement and fine print. A confounding matrix of hefty fines for disobedience to the lockdown and minor exceptions for everything from romantic partners to home building has led to silenced streets and endless versions of the question: So, wait, can I ____?

Restaurant owners are wondering about food delivery after an 8 p.m. curfew began on Sunday night. Teenagers are asking if their boyfriends and girlfriends count as essential partners. Can animal shelter volunteers walk dogs at night? Are house cleaners essential for those struggling with their mental health? Can people who have been tested exercise outside?

“This is such a weird, scary, bizarro time that we live in,” said Tessethia Von Tessle Roberts, 25, a student in Melbourne who admits to having hit a breaking point a few days ago, when her washing machine broke.

“Our health care workers are hustling around the clock to keep us alive,” she said. “Our politicians are as scared as we are, but they have to pretend like they have a better idea than we do of what’s going to happen next.”

Pandemic lockdowns, never easy, are getting ever more confusing and contentious as they evolve in the face of second and third rounds of outbreaks that have exhausted both officials and residents. With success against the virus as fleeting as the breeze, the new waves of restrictions feel to many like a bombing raid that just won’t end.

For some places, risk calculations can change overnight. In Hong Kong, officials banned daytime dining in restaurants last month, only to reverse themselves a day later after an outcry. Schools in some cities are opening and closing like screen doors in summer.

In many areas where the virus has retreated and then resurged, the future looks like a long, complicated haul. Leaders are reaching for their own metaphors to try to explain it.

Image

Credit...William West/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images

In California, Gov. Gavin Newsom has compared his opening and shutting of businesses to a

“dimmer switch.”

Dan Andrews, the premier in Victoria, the state of which Melbourne is the capital, has repeatedly referred to “pilot light mode” for industries like construction and meatpacking, which have been ordered to temporarily reduce their work forces.

Whatever the metaphor, the situation is bleak.

In Melbourne, a city of five million that is considered a capital of food and culture, the pandemic has come raging back even after a so-called Stage 3 lockdown began in early July — until recently the highest level of restrictions.

Officials have been flummoxed at every turn by the persistent complacency of just enough people to let the virus thrive and multiply.

Traffic data showed people driving more in July than they had during the first Stage 3 lockdown, in March and April. Even worse, almost nine out of 10 people with Covid-19 had not been tested or isolated when they first felt sick, Mr. Andrews, the state’s top leader, said in late July. And 53 percent had not quarantined while waiting for their test results.

“That means people have felt unwell and just gone about their business,” Mr. Andrews said.

Sounding the alarm, he made face masks mandatory the next day, on July 22.

Still, infections have continued to rise. They peaked at 753 new cases on July 30, and have hovered around 500 a day ever since, with the death toll in Victoria now standing at 147, after 11 deaths were recorded on Monday.

Those figures, while far less troublesome than those in the United States, have paved the way for a Stage 4 lockdown — what officials are calling a “shock and awe” attack on the virus — that will last at least six weeks.

Image

Credit...Daniel Pockett/Getty Images

Overwhelming force, with precision, seems to be the goal. The chief modelers of the pandemic response in Australia have found that the virus can be suppressed only if more than 70 percent of the population abides by social distancing guidelines and other public health rules.

Mr. Andrews said the new restrictions would take 250,000 more people out of their routines, in the hopes of reaching the necessary threshold.

So retail stores will be closed. Schools will return to at-home instruction. Restaurants will be takeout or delivery only. Child-care centers will be available only for permitted workers.

Those restrictions are already well understood. The rules requiring more explanation are tied to the curfew and industries that have to cut back.

Large-scale construction projects of more than three stories, for example, will have to reduce their on-site work force by 75 percent, and workers will not be able to work at more than one location. Small-scale construction cannot have more than five workers.

All of which sounds clear. But does a bathroom renovation, for example, amount to home building in an apartment with one bathroom? And what about fixing things that break, like Ms. Von Tessle Roberts’s washing machine?

Some businesses, like cleaning services, are already emailing customers to say they think they can do some work, for people who pay through welfare or who need help for mental health reasons. But, like many others, they are still seeking official clarification.

Image

Credit...David Crosling/EPA, via Shutterstock

Mr. Andrews, a Labor politician sometimes described as awkward and paternal, has become the dad everyone needs answers from. He now oversees, under the lockdown rules, what may be the country’s most intrusive bureaucracy since its days as a penal colony.

The Coronavirus Outbreak ›

Frequently Asked Questions

Updated August 4, 2020

I have antibodies. Am I now immune?

I’m a small-business owner. Can I get relief?

What are my rights if I am worried about going back to work?

Should I refinance my mortgage?

What is school going to look like in September?

As of right now, that seems likely, for at least several months. There have been frightening accounts of people suffering what seems to be a second bout of Covid-19. But experts say these patients may have a drawn-out course of infection, with the virus taking a slow toll weeks to months after initial exposure. People infected with the coronavirus typically produce immune molecules called antibodies, which are protective proteins made in response to an infection. These antibodies may last in the body only two to three months, which may seem worrisome, but that’s perfectly normal after an acute infection subsides, said Dr. Michael Mina, an immunologist at Harvard University. It may be possible to get the coronavirus again, but it’s highly unlikely that it would be possible in a short window of time from initial infection or make people sicker the second time.

The stimulus bills enacted in March offer help for the millions of American small businesses. Those eligible for aid are businesses and nonprofit organizations with fewer than 500 workers, including sole proprietorships, independent contractors and freelancers. Some larger companies in some industries are also eligible. The help being offered, which is being managed by the Small Business Administration, includes the Paycheck Protection Program and the Economic Injury Disaster Loan program. But lots of folks have not yet seen payouts. Even those who have received help are confused: The rules are draconian, and some are stuck sitting on money they don’t know how to use. Many small-business owners are getting less than they expected or not hearing anything at all.

Employers have to provide a safe workplace with policies that protect everyone equally. And if one of your co-workers tests positive for the coronavirus, the C.D.C. has said that employers should tell their employees -- without giving you the sick employee’s name -- that they may have been exposed to the virus.

It could be a good idea, because mortgage rates have never been lower. Refinancing requests have pushed mortgage applications to some of the highest levels since 2008, so be prepared to get in line. But defaults are also up, so if you’re thinking about buying a home, be aware that some lenders have tightened their standards.

It is unlikely that many schools will return to a normal schedule this fall, requiring the grind of online learning, makeshift child care and stunted workdays to continue. California’s two largest public school districts — Los Angeles and San Diego — said on July 13, that instruction will be remote-only in the fall, citing concerns that surging coronavirus infections in their areas pose too dire a risk for students and teachers. Together, the two districts enroll some 825,000 students. They are the largest in the country so far to abandon plans for even a partial physical return to classrooms when they reopen in August. For other districts, the solution won’t be an all-or-nothing approach. Many systems, including the nation’s largest, New York City, are devising hybrid plans that involve spending some days in classrooms and other days online. There’s no national policy on this yet, so check with your municipal school system regularly to see what is happening in your community.

On Tuesday, he answered questions from reporters about dog-walking (allowed after curfew, sort of, only near home) and other subjects of great confusion at a news conference in Melbourne.

Thanking those who complied with the new rules and scolding those who did not, he announced that no one in self-isolation would now be allowed to exercise outdoors. A door-knocking campaign to check in on 3,000 people who had Covid-19 found that 800 of them were not at home.

All 800 have been referred to the Victoria police for investigation. The fine for violators going forward, he said, will be 4,957 Australian dollars, $3,532.

Working, even legally, will also become trickier. Other than, say, hospital workers with formal identification, everyone traveling for a job deemed essential during the lockdown must carry a formal document — a work permit signed by the employer and employee.

For Cara Devine, who works at a wine store that closes at 8 p.m., that means carrying a government form with her everywhere, and hoping that the police recognize her task as essential when she heads home after the curfew. But she also worried about the Uber drivers who take her back and forth.

Image

Credit...William West/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images

“Even before the newest restrictions, I’ve had two Uber drivers being really late picking up from the shop because they got stopped by the police, taking about an hour out of their work time,” she said.

The police are already confronting opposition. On at least four occasions in the last week, they reported having to smash the windows of cars and pull people out after they refused to provide a name and address at a police checkpoint. The Victoria police commissioner, Shane Patton, said a 38-year-old woman had also been charged with assault after attacking a police officer who had stopped her for not wearing a face mask.

Some criminologists are questioning whether the harsher enforcement will help. Mostly, though, Melburnians are just trying to endure.

Walking to get groceries, Peter Barnes, 56, said he welcomed the stricter rules, though he admitted his city was starting to feel like George Orwell’s “1984,” with the heavy hand of the state around every corner.

Those focused solely on the economics, he said, should remember the obvious: “You can’t hire a corpse. Very bad employment prospects for people who are dead.”

By Monday night, the city seemed to be in listening mode. The streets were emptying out, silent in hibernation.

“It’s like a Sunday in the 1950s,” said Mark Rubbo, the owner of Readings, Melbourne’s largest independent bookstore. He also noted that people were stocking up again on books through online orders, with a memoir called “The Happiest Man on Earth,” about a Holocaust survivor, becoming a runaway hit.

Ms. Von Tessle Roberts has found another solution, perhaps just as likely to grow in popularity: Stand on your front porch and scream. That’s the name she has given to an event she posted on Facebook, set for Friday at 7 p.m. By Tuesday afternoon, 70,000 people had expressed an interest in joining her collective shout in anguish.

“Yelling is great,” she said. “It’s less dehydrating than crying.”

Image

Credit...Erik Anderson/EPA, via Shutterstock

_________________________________________________________

Besha Rodell and Yan Zhuang contributed reporting from Melbourne, and Livia Albeck-Ripka from Cairns, Australia.

Thanks for reading The Times.

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[artificialqueens]

How Far I'll Go Chapter 5 (Ninex) - Mia Ugly, Meggie

A/N:   Previously: Nina and Cracker resolved their tension, though Cracker appears to know more than she’s letting on. The queens were grouped in threes to recreate some classic sapphic films, and Nina isn’t feeling great about his team’s performance. Meanwhile, Monet helps Nina calm his nerves.

To come: the runway, the reckoning, a flashback. And a musical number. Of course.

(Thank you to everyone who has been reading/commenting on this. Your enthusiasm is means more than we can say, and we’re so grateful.)

Here is the link for the song in this chapter, in case you want to sing along at home!

Chapter 5: I bet you’ve got secrets too

Nina wakes up and is still on Drag Race. 

(Will the same thing be true tomorrow morning? Don’t think about that right now.)

He showers, gets dressed, heads down to breakfast. As he’s waiting for the elevator he tries not to fidget too much, not to start biting his nails or tugging at the buttons on his cuff.  He’s already vibrating with anxiety and the day hasn’t even started yet. Breathe, girl (but then that just makes him think about Monét, their shared breath yesterday in the Werk Room, the warmth of Monét’s hands against his. In, out. Goddamn if Nina isn’t going to remember Monét’s voice all low and calm like that, or their eyes locked together, for maybe probably the rest of his life).

The elevator dings as it opens, and - Jesus Christ.

This time Nina recognizes the gasping couple immediately.

“What—and I cannot stress this enough—the fuck, you guys?”

Brooke and Vanjie immediately pull away from each other. Nina turns his back. He doesn’t want to see them, doesn’t need to have this conversation. If either of them think that he’s going to spend the rest of the day talking them down from whatever lovelorn panic spiral they end up in, well - they’re wrong.  That’s what they are.

So much for “it won’t happen again” and “we’re done” and all of that. Nina should’ve known better. He’s heard the speech from both of them before, after all, and look where it’s left them. (Not to belabour a point, but it’s left them here, on All Stars, making out in elevators and then pretending that anyone is fooled.)

When he gets to the conference room, the mentors have already left. Nina - tries not to feel too disappointed. It just means he probably won’t see Monét until tonight on the runway (even then, it will only be from a distance.)

Maybe that’s for the best. Nina could use a bit of distance. 

After that dream last night, Monét’s been in his head all morning, and Nina’s got to be stronger than this (put it aside, right? Give it up, throw it away. Do something else with these feelings, anything except - feel them).

He sits with Asia for breakfast, ignoring Brooke and Vanjie as they go off to separate corners of the room, neither of them speaking to each other (both of them avoiding eye contact with Nina. Thank God for that).

“I think we were okay,” Asia tells him about her scene. “Like, we got it the hell together. But those two…” She raises an eyebrow, no more clarification needed. “They gotta figure out their shit. They still fucking?”

“I - have no idea.” Nina likes Asia, trusts her, but - he really doesn’t know how to answer that question. Given the situation in the elevator this morning. And yesterday morning. And - you know, probably most mornings (nights, afternoons) since they damn well broke up.

“Did you know Trixie’s man split with her?” Asia asks the question like she’s asking Nina if he knows what the weather’s going to be like. “Vanjie told me. I guess Miss Mattel was all up in her feelings yesterday.”

“Really?” Nina’s genuinely surprised. From the vibes that Trixie gave off on social media, he thought her boyfriend was kind of a - sure thing.  Jesus, what was his name? Well, Nina knew at one point, and Trixie had been writing songs about him and - it’s all unexpected. Though of course Nina doesn’t know her as a person at all, really. Just knows her as Trixie Mattel, All Star and business mogul and celebrity shit-talker. 

“The tea is that it’s because of some pics with Katya, you know.”

“I… don’t.”

“Like romantic photos. Nothing - I’m not talking dick pics, honey. Just some shit from a show or something, you know how they are. All touchy, cuddly. Anyway, I don’t have the details or anything. Just what Miss Vanjie was spilling.” 

Nina thinks back to Trixie Mattel’s awkwardness from their time on set yesterday. The way she flinched when they brought up Katya. Jesus - no, no. He’s not going to take on anyone else’s drama right now. Ru Paul’s Best Friends Race? More like Ru Paul’s Messy High School Soap Opera.

Nina’s shaky and anxious for most of the day, despite his best efforts.  He tries to keep a brave face on, tries to convince himself he’s got nothing to worry about. His Lavender Menace runway look is one of his favourites: a super-cinched mermaid silhouette that drips with pale purple beads and holographic paillettes.  He feels like a futuristic Barbra Streisand in “Hello Dolly!” and can’t wait for the judges to see it.

He and Brooke paint next to each other at the mirror, a bit quieter than usual (Nina is not going to ask, is not going to give in to the Branjie drama du jour.) There’s always been a calm that surrounds Nina while he paints so he relaxes into it. He knows this part, understands it, trusts his hands with the brushes even if he doesn’t completely trust his body on the runway (or trust his sisters with their votes). He relies on muscle memory and an arsenal of information gleaned from the countless queens with whom he’s worked over the years. Makeup he’s confident in. Makeup is what he can put his hands all over and make his own. If he has nothing else, he has his face (and fully made up, with the right shade of lipstick and just the right wig, Nina feels almost pretty. Close enough that with a couple drinks in, you might not know the difference).

Today he’s chosen a deep plum eye flecked with holographic glitter. It’s a lot, it’s over the top, it’s very Nina West, which is exactly what he’s here to show them. Too much of himself got lost in Season 11 and that can’t - won’t- happen again. His glitter might exactly match the paillettes on his dress. He might have planned that. His purple eyeshadow might also match Monét’s purple lipstick from the finale night (that, he didn’t plan. Honest.) 

After he makes the connection, though, it’s almost all he can think about, which is not a good thing. He should be focusing on the competition. On turning it out on this runway. On trying to ignore the feeling that it could be his last one. 

A couple of innocuous conversations about the “inner saboteur” happen while they’re all painting together, but the producers are looking for that hook, so - of course it’s only a matter of time before they convince someone (in this case Ivy, who probably didn’t realize it was a trap) to ask the inevitable question.

“Brooke and Vanjie. What was it like being on the same team again? Like playing a couple after - you know, everything?”

Nina stiffens, knows that this question is going to fuck with Brooke and Vanjie’s heads. The two of them look over at each other and then away, before Nina forces himself to focus on his own reflection in the mirror. He packs more plum eyeshadow on his brush, taps it carefully on his eyelid, pretends he isn’t listening. (Of course he’s listening. They’re all listening.)

“It’s fine, girl,” Vanjie says, trying desperately to sound nonchalant. “Makes it more realistic, don’t it? Plus that shit is ancient history. Like, back when there were dinosaurs and shit.”

“Is it awkward though?” Shea asks. “Being on the same season again?”

“No,” Brooke says a beat too late, a note too high. Nina winces at the sound, then hopes that none of the cameras caught that. The last thing he wants to do in his talking-head tonight is answer questions about Branjie. “I mean, we stayed friends, stayed really close—” 

“Oh yeah, real close.” Vanessa snorts, runs his tongue across his teeth, stares down at the bottle of foundation on his table. The Werk Room falls silent. Brooke’s hand pauses, mascara wand poised above his right eye, waiting for the bomb to drop, waiting for Vanessa’s next move. 

Nina’s waiting too.

But Vanjie just releases a deep breath and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, we cool. We did what we did in the scene, now we just gotta wait. But baby, it’s gonna be all fine.”

* * *

It’s anything but all fine, as it turns out. 

The runway is one thing. Clearly Brooke looks gorgeous in purple (Nina isn’t blind). Vanjie goes unexpectedly high-fashion in an asymmetrical gown patterned with lilacs, lilacs also forming a crown atop her white-blonde wig—a May Queen, a Midsummer Night’s dream. Nina feels like a bag of money in his dress, and if he searches for Monét’s approving gaze from the audience, well - it doesn’t have to mean anything.  It doesn’t mean anything. Nina uses this ache for fuel, stomps the runway like maybe, maybe, maybe he’s winning Monét over. Like he’s cool and sexy and mysterious, like he could be the kind of person someone like Monét would fall for. 

He lets that fantasy carry him as he flirts with the judges, spins at centre stage, and leaves the runway walking on air (he’s done what he can, let’s hope it’s enough).

When they’re all called back to watch the films and listen to the judges’ critiques, Nina’s fantasy starts to fade. 

Shea, Nina Bo’nina, and Ivy slay (as Nina completely expected). The three of them look gorgeous (Shea’s purple dress has a bustle and train that nearly stretches the length of the runway, it’s dramatic as hell and the judges are living). Their scene is weird and glamorous and perfect: Shea as Carol, Ivy as Therese, and Nina Bo’nina as the surprise jealous ex-girlfriend have Ru almost crying with laughter. There’s no doubt that they’re going to be in the top tonight - or at least two of them will.

Brooke and Vanjie, well… Being bad at acting is one thing, but Nina can’t for the life of him figure out how they’re so bad at playing a couple when they’ve literally been doing it since their break up last fall. If only Aileen Wuornos had an Instagram, Nina thinks bitterly, they’d be fucking set. 

The looks are on point, and Asia is a lone bright star as an evil police officer, but Brooke and Vanjie are kind of a mess. Nina doesn’t know how to feel about it—it’s hard to feel anything when he’s still waiting for his own scene to play.

And then it does.

Blair reaches over and takes hold of Nina’s hand as the clip rolls, and it is - not great.

Not awful - but definitely not great.

Nina gets a couple good laughs, and Cracker looks the part, but Michelle was right - they are stiff, and they don’t look like they’re having fun. Blair in particular looks terrified on-screen (and Nina can feel Blair’s hand tightening against his as the scene unfolds).

When it ends, Nina tries to smile graciously but he knows it falls flat. On the other side of Blair, Cracker stares down at the runway.

Ross claps enthusiastically, but Ru and Michelle applaud more out of polite tradition. And that’s when Nina knows that they’re fucked. 

“Ladies,” Ru says after a short deliberation break where Nina desperately tries to hold Blair together without falling apart himself. “What an - interesting approach to this week’s challenge. Here’s some advice: stop letting personal matters get in the way of your success.” 

Nina gulps. 

“That said, let’s move on to the judges’ critiques.”

They love Shea (of course). Ivy’s dress isn’t their favorite silhouette, but they commend her on the flawless construction and the bold use of lavender and grey plaid wrapping paper (that queen is something else). The other Nina has painted her entire body purple and green as a living, breathing representation of a lavender plant and the judges are interested if not completely sold. Either way, Nina hasn’t heard enough negative critiques to feel safe.

Brooke is next. The judges fawn over his form-fitting fully-stoned pageant gown, the pale color of the fabric accentuating the creamy undertone of his skin. Michelle especially loves that he’s wearing a deep auburn wig, says it changes his entire aesthetic and is the perfect balance to the rest of the look.

“But I see we still haven’t taken any acting classes,” she continues carefully.

Brooke purses his lips. “I actually did, I just—” He sighs. “It was a rough week for me.”

Michelle nods, narrows her eyes, and then surprisingly - drops it? She doesn’t listen to excuses from anyone,  but for some reason she doesn’t go right for Brooke’s throat this week. Nina suspects she knows exactly what (or who?) Brooke is referring to. Michelle usually does. 

Asia’s electric purple feathers are another judges’ favorite, and she’s  complimented by both Michelle and Ross for being the saving grace of an otherwise dim performance.

Nina can see Vanjie crumbling with nerves, but the smile he pastes on when Ru says his name is radiant, could light up Columbus in a pinch.  If Vanjie just knew how to channel that control into challenges - Nina forces himself to listen. 

“First of all, you look flawless. This is not your Season 10 or Season 11 Miss Vanjie. You are stepping up, girl.” Michelle smiles, and Vanjie’s face could now light the entire state of Ohio.

“But I’d like to know who made the decision that you and Brooke would play the main couple?” Ross asks.

Blackout. Vanessa’s mouth falls open. “I- We- It was a group decision.”

“We thought it made the most sense,” Brooke supplies weakly, “seeing as how we have a history.”

Michelle nods. “I get it, but it just didn’t work.” She looks at Asia. “What did you have to say about all that?”

Asia shakes her head. “I trusted my sisters. They said they could handle it and I believed them. You can’t fake the kind of chemistry that Vanjie and Brooke have. I just wish it had translated better.”

“Mmm,” Michelle agrees. “Or at all.”

“You didn’t think maybe it would be too much like art imitating life?” Ru asks, gesturing between Brooke and Vanessa, who are both looking anywhere but at each other. “Ex-lovers playing lovers? That’s…” He chuckles, but there’s little joy behind it. It’s cold, even for Ru. “That’s playing with fire, kids.” 

“I wouldn’t even have cared if it worked,” Ross says gently. “Play with all the fire you want, burn the stage down, but give us something.”

“Ross will be hearing from our union representative. Thank you ladies.”  When Ru glances over at Nina, the corners of his mouth tick upwards, but only slightly. “Nina West.”

“First of all…” Michelle kisses her fingers like a chef. “This gown? Gorgeous. Hair, perfection. You look stun-ning. But that performance, girl…” 

Nina nods. “I know.”

“Last season, every acting challenge you were high-larious. What happened?”

“There’s been a lot going on -” Stay vague, sis. Don’t be the one who throws people under the bus. You just fixed whatever was broken between you and Cracker. “I don’t think I’m settled in yet.”

“Settled in,” Michelle repeats blankly. “How many episodes of All Stars do you think you should get to settle in?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean -”

“You looked pretty settled in when you almost won last week,” Ross says.

“This is the best of the best,” Ru says, eyeing Nina. “What you brought last week was what we want, what you have on tonight is what we want, but all of you girls need to figure out whatever these personal issues are because I don’t have time for them. This is not - and I repeat, not RuPaul’s Best Friends Race.”

Nina nods. What else can he do? He tells himself not to look at Monét, not to see how he’s taking this - but Nina’s eyes immediately betray him. Monét’s perfect pink lips are pressed tight together (and, Christ, he’s even prettier than Brooke is in purple) and his hands are gripping the armrests of his folding directors’ seat.

Monét’s worried. Shit.

The judges move on to Miz Cracker, who looks like a purple technicolor acid trip of Alice in Wonderland. It’s Nina’s favorite thing on the runway, if he’s being honest.

Michelle peers over the top of her glasses. “Can you guess what I’m going to say?”

“I look damn good, but why the fuck wasn’t I funny?” Cracker deadpans. “Yeah, I don’t have an excuse. There obviously was some tension between Nina and myself, I take responsibility for that, but I apologized and we worked through it. It’s not going to be an issue anymore.” She offers her hand to Nina, who takes it and squeezes gently.

Ross shuffles his cards. “You looked amazing in the film, though. It was cast quite well.”

“Thank you. Blair and I switched roles last minute, so that’s comforting to hear.”

Ru nods, seemingly satisfied, and turns his attention to the third member of their group. “Well, I do declare!”

Blair has gone full Scarlett O’Hara realness for this runway, hoop skirt and all, and Nina and Cracker are at least five feet away from her out of necessity. The lilac taffeta falls in tiers from her fitted bodice and cinched waist. Blair’s hands are folded daintily, the white lace gloves accentuating how tiny her hands actually are. If Vivienne Leigh had a 19-inch waist, Blair’s can’t be a centimeter over 19 and a half.

Blair is smiling, but it’s porcelain, like the slightest jolt will shatter her.

“Blair St. Clair!” Ross starts with a big smile. “Is that really you in there?”

Blair does a cute little curtsy, bending as much as she possibly can in that corset.

“I love it, I love it, I love it,” Ross says. “That dress! I feel like I’m getting the vapours just looking at you, I need a fan.”

Blair—shockingly enough—has a pale violet fan hanging off her hip, almost completely hidden by ruffles. She pulls it off (“Catch!”) and tosses it toward the judges’ table while Ross claps in delight. (The fan goes pretty off course, hitting the edge of the table and ricocheting toward the ground in front of the stage. A crew member grabs it and brings it to Ross who fans himself dramatically.)

“What else is hidden in those ruffles?” Ru quips.

“A lady never tells,” Blair laughs softly.

“So yes - you look the part,” Michelle says, bringing them back on track. “But Blair. Honey. What was going on in that scene?”

The smile drains from Blair’s face.

“You showed up on set looking terrified. When I watched the scene tonight, that’s what came across the most for me. That fear.”

Blair nods. Her shoulders start to sag.

“You’re an actor. We know you can act. Do you know you can act?” Ru asks.

“Yes.” Blair doesn’t sound confident. “I just - got in my head this challenge. And then we switched roles—”

“So whose idea was that?” Ru interrupts.

Blair’s lips part. Nina has this horrible thought that Blair might say it was his idea, like an act of sabotage or something - when really, he was just trying to help. He really, really didn’t want to throw Blair off her game—

“It was mine,” Blair says. Nina exhales silently. “I thought it’d be better for the whole team, but I don’t know if it worked out that way. I think it shook me. I’m sorry.”

“You still look terrified,” Michelle says. “You’re clearly gorgeous, clearly talented. I want you to see that too, Blair.”

“I do. Or I thought I did, I guess I’ve still got some - work to do.”

“Thank you, Blair.” Ru’s voice is gentle. “Based on the judges’ critiques, I think we all know there was a clear winning team this week.” He pauses for effect, looks between them before settling his gaze on the three queens closest to the judges’ panel. “Shea Coulee, Ivy Winters, Nina Bo’nina Brown - condragulations! You are the winning team. But two of you really proved to us that Ru is the warmest colour… Shea Coulee. Ivy Winters: you are the top two All Stars of the week.”

Ivy cheers and hugs Shea, the two of them spinning briefly in place. Nina’s heart is fully in his throat, he may not be able to breathe soon.

“You’ve each won a $2,500 gift card to Wigs and Grace and a $1,000 gift card to Coolhaus Ice Cream.” Shea and Ivy embrace again, a little less excited by their ice cream prize. 

Ru continues, “Nina Bo’nina Brown, you are safe. Team Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: ladies, you are all safe.”

Blair flinches besides him, and Cracker doesn’t even blink. She was clearly steeling herself for this moment. Nina wishes he had. There was just some stupid optimistic part of his brain that couldn’t even go there, that thought they had a chance—

“That means Team Nina West: I’m sorry my dears, but all three of you will be up for elimination. Shea and Ivy: each one of you needs to decide which of the bottom queens you will eliminate if you win the lipsync.” 

Okay. Okay. It happened. Just - keep it together, don’t think about last season, don’t think about the moment they told you you weren’tgoodenoughtoSTAY—

Nina looks up briefly from his super-fun shame-spiral and catches Vanjie’s eye down the runway.  The sweet thing gives him a wince of empathy, and Nina winces back. 

“While you deliberate backstage,” Ru continues, “the judges and I will… learn macramé.”

The safe queens laugh, but Nina is wobbly on his heels, moving on autopilot to the backstage lounge. His brain doesn’t start working until he’s sitting on the couch with a cocktail in his hand, Blair and Cracker wedged beside him.

Brooke has disappeared (for a cigarette probably) and Vanjie is off somewhere talking to Asia, rolling her eyes and bobbing her head, clearly pissed off.

“Yay…” Cracker says dryly, “I blame the lesbians for this. Control your children, Brooke Lynn.” She tacks on that last part loudly, like if she yells enough, Brooke will hear her wherever he is.

“Girl, they’d probably enjoy that too much,” Shea says with a smirk, and Nina laughs (even though there is glass in his mouth). He feels mostly okay about his chances of staying. He does have a win to his name after all, and Cracker was safe last week.  But Blair… Well, she’s crying silently, furtively wiping away tears. They can all see the lipstick writing on the mirror (it might be in Blair’s handwriting).

“Do any of you—” Ivy begins, before Shea stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I’d like to talk to Ivy, actually. Other than that, I’m good. Unless any of y’all really want to - you know, make a speech or something.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. Nina has a speech running through his head, his track record on the show, his win last week - but he’s surprised by Blair shaking her head ‘no.’ Cracker looks over sharply at that, hesitates - and then shrugs.

“I can cry real tears if you need me to,” she says to Shea. “But if you’re good, I’m good.”

Both Shea and Ivy look at Nina.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “You guys are in charge.”

“Great!” Shea says and grabs Ivy’s arm before pulling her to the back of the room, where they lower their heads and begin to speak quietly. 

Blair sniffs and dabs at her eyes. “I didn’t need to talk to them. What’s the point, you know? But I would like to talk to the two of you… if… I could.” Then she’s fully crying. “I just need a minute.”

Nina puts his arm around her, pets her hair while she breathes. It’s probably a moot point; it’s still early, but they all know how this works. 

Miz Cracker sits next to Blair, lacing and unlacing her fingers, not looking at either one of them. Until she does. 

“I’m really sorry,” Cracker says, holding Nina’s gaze over Blair’s head

Nina shakes her head. “We’re good, I told you.”

“Yeah, but…” She sighs. “What Ru said about personal bullshit getting in the way… That was all me. I was angry with you when I shouldn’t have been and now we’re in the bottom—”

Blair raises her head and looks both of them over with swollen, red eyes. 

“—and it’s really my fault. And fucking Monét’s—”

Her diatribe stops and she looks wide-eyed at Nina, who is still holding Blair’s hand, rubbing soft circles through the white lace glove that adorns it.

“Can I ask you…” Nina pauses. “What, um, exactly was Monét supposed to tell me?”

Miz Cracker shakes her head, trademark blonde curls bouncing across her shoulders. “No. I’m not touching it anymore. I can’t. If that idiot has something to say to you, he’ll say it on his own time.” She decisively smooths an invisible wrinkle from the front of her purple tea-length gown and folds her hands in her lap. But Nina notices that her thumbs never stop twitching. 

“No matter what happens, I hope—” Blair clears her throat and takes in a deep breath, which she releases as a shaky sigh. 

Nina shakes his head. “Blair, you don’t—”

“Wait, wait. Just listen.”

Both Nina and Cracker shut up and look at her.

“It’s going to be me. We know that.”

“Blair—” Cracker tries again.

“I was in the bottom last week. We know. Okay? We know.” Her bottom lip trembles but she straightens her shoulders, nods decisively. “I just want to say, you were great teammates. Like really, really - nice.”

Now Nina thinks he might start crying. No. NO. Keep it together.

“And I really like working with you.” Blair smiles sweetly. “Miz Cracker, you’re so funny, and I’ve looked up to you for so long. I can’t believe I got to work with you again.”

“Blair—” Cracker starts, but her voice breaks.

“Nina, you’ve taken such good care of me this whole time.  You really looked out for my feelings, and you were so sweet.” Blair squeezes Nina’s hand. “And I just really hope everything works out for you and Monét.”

Nina chokes a bit. But so does Cracker (great, they’re more in sync now than they were during the challenge).

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh, are you two - not -” Blair blinks her eyelashes, looking at Nina in shock.

“No, nope, we’re not,” Nina says quickly. “Nothing - happening there. No ma’am.”

Blair watches him for a moment, and then narrows her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” What is even happening? Vanjie and Brooke are the bad actors, Nina is Oscar-caliber. Is he losing his touch? Or is it just where Monét is concerned (and God, wouldn’t that be a nightmare)?

“Okay. Just - I thought. You know, from this whole conversation. And the way he looks at you.”

Cracker makes another choking sound, and Blair snaps her mouth shut. 

“Never mind. I must have - gotten confused. Sorry. Forget anything I said.”

“Except for when you said how great we are,” Cracker amends, pulling Blair into a hug. “You can’t take that back. I need this.”

Nina is grateful that Cracker always seems to be able to make Blair smile, and Team Cheerleader hugs it out. Moments later, Ivy and Shea come back from whatever corner they were hiding in, each of them looking grim. Before they’re all led back onto the mainstage, Vanjie grabs Nina and squeezes his hand.

“It ain’t gonna be you, girl. Keep it on-lock, you’ll be fine.” 

The other queens have similarly encouraging things to say to Cracker and Blair, and Brooke even goes in for a hug before the crew comes to get them.  Then they’re on stage again, lights so bright they’re making Nina feel dazed.

Don’t look at the mentors, he tells himself, and this time he listens. He’s too embarrassed - can’t possibly think about meeting Monét’s eye right now. (Here I am, totally fucked and on the verge of going home. Still glad you picked me?) 

“Welcome back,” Ru says as the lights flash. “Two top All Stars stand before me. Ladies, this is your chance to impress me, win ten-thousand dollars, and earn the power to give one of the bottom queens the chop. The time has come for you to lip-sync. For. Your. Legacy.”

And for my life, Nina thinks to himself. Oh God, he should have poured his heart out to Shea and Ivy, should have told them how much he wanted this, should have—

“Good luck. And don’t fuck it up.”

The opening beats of the Eurythmics’ “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves” start and Shea immediately starts ripping off the train of her dress. The queens around Nina lose their minds.  Ivy got changed into a spangly cocktail dress for the lip-sync, but Shea kept her original gown - except now it’s been turned into a sexy purple bathing suit, and she looks stunning. Nina can’t say he’s in the headspace to pay much attention to anything that’s happening on stage, but the other queens and the judges seem to be cheering with every move Shea makes. Ivy’s classy and quirky but she isn’t the dancer that Shea is.  She can’t command a stage in the same way.

Nina focuses on breathing. Focuses on not falling over. Stares at the crumpled heap of Shea’s train, purple fabric stretching down the runway, while somewhere in the background Ru cheers with delight.

This can’t be the end. Not yet. Not yet.

Nina blinks and somehow the lip-sync is already done. As the music fades, he feels Blair’s hand slide into his. He forces himself to stay present, pay attention.

“Ladies, I have made a decision,” Ru says as Ivy and Shea catch their breath, both of them looking hopeful. “Shea Coulee, you’re a winner baby. You’ve earned a cash tip of ten thousand dollars. That means that Chad Michaels - you’re also a winner. You’ve won a cash tip of five thousand dollars.”

There’s some cheering from the mentors, but Nina barely hears it over his pounding heart.

“Ivy Winters, you are safe. You may join the other girls. Will the bottom three queens please step forward?”

Nina walks forward in a daze, Blair’s hand still held tightly in his. After a moment at centre stage, Cracker reaches down and takes his other hand. 

“Shea Coulee. With great power comes great responsibility. Which queen have you chosen to get the chop?”

Shea sighs, but doesn’t draw it out more than she has to. “I love this queen and this ain’t personal.  I made this decision based on past performances, so I’m sorry, I gotta go with Blair.”

She takes Blair’s lipstick out of her neckline. Nina hears Blair take a deep breath beside her. 

“Blair St. Clair,” Ru smiles sadly, “as it is written, so it shall be done. You are and always will be an All Star. Now sashay away.”

Blair straightens her shoulders. She looks up and smiles brightly. She seems to Nina the most confident and beautiful she’s been since they first started filming.

 “Thank you so much for another opportunity to show you and the world who I am. I’m going to keep growing and getting better, and I’m going to make you so proud of me.”

Ru nods, Michelle smiles, and Ross might wipe away a tear, but Blair’s eyes are dry as she hugs Nina and Cracker, then turns and walks down the runway. 

She pauses before leaving and strikes a dramatic pose. “With God as my witness, I’ll never be eliminated from Drag Race again!”

Everyone laughs, genuinely laughs, because Blair is funny when she can relax and be herself. Nina’s hands are shaking as Cracker slides over and wraps her arms around his waist.

Safe safe safe safe safe.

“Con-drag-ulations, All Stars,” Ru says cheerfully from the judges’ panel. “And, remember: if you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else? Can I get an amen? Now let the music play!”

Nina is dancing but his heart is pounding as loudly as the music. Relief is making him dizzy and the flashing lights aren’t helping matters. Cracker hugs him again and he’s so damn grateful for that, just to have someone anchor him to the earth for a moment. He knows the mentors are probably coming up on stage, but he doesn’t see Monét in the crush of queens around him. It’s fine. It’s good. He’s in no fit state to try to impress anyone right now.

Nina’s one of the first to leave the runway, and he knows he’s got to go get changed, get ready for his talking head interview (which is going to be - let’s not kid ourselves - intense after this elimination), but he still finds the first quiet spot that he can, ducks behind one of those tall tool boxes full of set pieces or cords or something and just lets himself shake. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  He’s here, he’s here, he’s got to calm down—

“Nina? Girl, hey now—”

Nina looks up (even though he doesn’t need to, would know, has known that voice in the dark) as Monét comes closer to him, eyes full of concern. 

“I saw you tear off that stage, knew you were feeling some kinda way. And if you want to feel your feelings by yourself, if you need a minute, I get it. But listen - you’re still here. Okay? It was awful, but it’s one challenge, and you’re still here.”

Nina nods, but he can’t stop having flashbacks to Season 11, can’t stop remembering the depth of the hurt and disappointment when he was sent home. He feels like his heart is already in shards just from anticipation, and it’s hard to remind himself that it’s actually still intact. He’s still here.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry–” Nina tries to catch his breath, tries to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. This version of himself is the last thing he wants Monét to see.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Because I’m on your team, and - this challenge should have been easy for me, for us—”

“Nina West.” Monet’s got his serious face on, something Nina hasn’t seen much of yet. “This mentor shit don’t mean anything to me, okay? You think I need twenty-five K so bad? Nah, girl - with this voice? With this ass? Nah.”

Nina feels a laugh rising tightly in his chest. Monét deserves a fucking medal for trying to make him feel better.

“Don’t worry none about me. Jesus. You put this challenge behind you for yourself. You move forward and win this crown for yourself.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls.”

“I don’t.” Monét’s voice goes a bit too loud, and he stiffens as they both realize it. His eyes are on Nina’s, and Nina realizes he’s holding his breath. This - what is -

Monét exhales a weak laugh and Nina feels the ghost of it against his lips. “Shit. I mean - I’m allowed to have favourites, right?” 

It’s so sweet and ridiculous that Nina’s face breaks into a smile, and as he does he feels the slow slide of a tear down his cheek. Wonderful. Fantastic. Could he be more pathetic?

Then Monét is reaching out, wiping the tear away with the soft pad of his thumb.

“Hey, now. No crying, Jean Grey.” Monét’s voice shakes, and he doesn’t drop his hand. His fingers stroke gently along Nina’s jaw, angling his face up and into the dim light. Studying it like it’s a priceless piece of art.

Nina feels - something strange happening in his stomach. Like he might be sick. Or maybe can’t breathe? It’s tough to say, so he says nothing - just stares at Monét and tries to keep his heart beating (but at least if he drops dead now, his face will still be warm from Monet’s hands. If he dies, he’ll still have had someone look at him, just for a moment, like he was a masterpiece).

Monét’s mouth opens, and Nina’s eyes drop briefly down to his lips. His lips are something else, just - devastating. 

They should kiss, maybe.  That would be - would be okay. 

Even if Nina ruined everything after the finale, maybe - maybe Monét would still want to kiss him (Nina remembers the taste of his mouth, remembers how soft it was, how desperate it made him feel, pressing kisses against his neck, chest, hip—)

That’s when a couple of electrics coming stomping through, hauling lights.

Nina flinches. Monét drops his hand. Steps back. 

Nina tells his heart - in very strong words - not to punch its way out of his chest.

“I’m - uh - anyway. You gonna be good?”

“Sure,” Nina says, still trying to remember why breathing is important. Was that - something? Had that been something? Or was he just -

“And I’m sorry about Cracks.” Monét keeps talking, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other. “It’s kinda my fault that - she was all in her feelings.”

“Oh. Really, it’s okay, we talked it over. I think we’re cool.”

“Shit, thank God. I was worried that she was gonna be like this for the rest of the season.  Couldn’t resist the Nina West charm, right?”

“Actually –” Nina’s mind skips carefully over the ‘Nina West charm’ bit. There are some things he cannot survive. “She said this thing - you should probably know about it - I think she might be angry at you now?”  

Monét looks carefully blank. “Really.”

“She seemed - when we talked about it - upset about something you didn’t do? Or didn’t say, actually. She said she thought you were going to tell me something.”

Monét makes a soft noise from deep in his throat, like a ‘huh’ sort of sound but if you were also choking.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Doing real good.” 

Nina doesn’t need to say anything else, and he doesn’t really want to know - but he also kind of wants to know (he also still kind of wants Monét to kiss him, to touch his jaw again and lean forward and just—)

He clears his throat. Don’t think about kissing. “What were you supposed to tell me?”

“Oh, I—” Monét hesitates. Just for a second.  But Nina notices. Then Monét smiles, radiant and white (and just off enough to clock the flaw). “I have no idea. But I’m sure that bitch will have no problem sounding off at me about it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nina isn’t going to push. Not right now. 

“Well, maybe I gotta go do some damage control,” Monét says with a laugh that sounds brittle. “Congrats on making it through another episode, Nina West. Always knew you would. One step closer to that finale, right?”

“Right.” Nina forces himself to breathe, to smile, to watch Monét walk away. 

It seems to Nina that as Monét walks down the hallway, he’s almost walking to a beat. As if there’s low music playing in the background, like the strumming of some stringed instrument.  Nina can almost hear it.

“Was that a moment?” Nina murmurs to himself, and then - no.  No. Oh shit, he’s singing.

“Did we have a moment?

Was that a moment right there?

Or am I overthinking everything,

Always in my head

But that felt like a moment

With your hand on my skin.

If I could only speak

I’d ask you what it meant.”

Monét doesn’t turn around, doesn’t hear him (thank God) because Nina can’t stop the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“And I don’t know why I can’t just say what’s on my mind.

And I don’t know why I can’t just ask you what you’d like.

It seems as if we talk so much but never even speak.

And all we have are pleasantries

The hi, how are you’s, I can’t breathe

With all this silence rising like the sea.”

He stops. Takes a breath. He can still hear music.

“But that felt like a moment,

An honest moment just then

It felt like something real, maybe

A little more than friends.

Did we have a moment

When you touched me like that?

I’ll press it between pages

And then play it, play it back.

And I don’t know what you’d do if I said

How I feel.

Maybe you would laugh at me

Say none of it was real.

Or maybe you’d be kind

Oh God, the worst thing you could be

With all these little tragedies

The walls I’ve built in front of me

Are falling to the ground now

Just like leaves.”

The chords swell just like the rate of Nina’s pulse when Monét touched his face. 

“But was that a moment?

It felt like a moment to me.”

Music crashes like waves, builds like a barricade, and Nina holds his breath against the weight of it.

“Was that a moment?

Could it ever be?”

Then he pauses. What do you do in this situation, what do you say? Do you make the first move, risk your dignity? Or do you convince yourself that it’s just in your head? (He thinks and thinks and overthinks before the song continues.)

“That wasn’t a moment.

Okay, fine, we touched

But you’re like that with everyone

You’re lovely and beloved

That wasn’t a moment.

Please don’t let me fall.”

Nina breathes between his clenched teeth before he sings the final line: 

“That was nothing at all.”

The music fades out, giving Nina just enough time to wonder if he should seek professional help before Monét is walking quickly back towards him. Nina can’t move, can only stare in shock.  Monét probably didn’t - hear any of that, right? That was just another one of Nina’s weird musical fantasies that started up when he got that All Stars call (he really should probably talk to someone about that, to be honest.)

“I almost forgot,” Monét says under his breath (while Nina tries not to get too distracted by the way his lips form the words), “ and you didn’t hear this from me. But, girl, you better make sure that wig’s taped down for the next challenge.”

Nina lifts his hands to his hair - it’s fine, it hasn’t shifted at all.  

“What?”

“From what I hear, it might get snatched.” Monét winks before he walks away again, and Nina - oh.

Shit.

It’s time for the Snatch Game.

* * *

Interlude: Monét, finale night

“So like - girl. Okay. So.” 

Monét runs his hand over his bald head, desperate for something to do with his hands. His face is done but he hasn’t put his wig on yet, is waiting for the last possible minute (this one bugs him, and he really should get rid of it, but it was stupid expensive and he’s still kinda wearing it out of spite).

Anyway.

“So this might sound funny. You might think this is crazy - shit.”

He swallows. Breathes, and tries again.

“I’m gonna sound like a stalker, maybe - but - ”

“Oh. My. Jesus.” There’s a pounding on the bathroom door and Cracker’s voice echoes in the room. “Your phone is out here, who the hell are you talking to? Do you have a burner phone in there? Are you calling your secret family?”

Monét hears Bob’s loud laugh in the background and winces. 

“He’s secret straight, I’ve been tellin’ you this whole time. Got all these side-chicks.”

“Monét!” Cracker knocks again.

With a sigh, Monét cracks the bathroom door, peering into the room where his two friends have been waiting, already dressed and a couple of drinks in (okay, fine, it’s finale night - Monét might also be a couple drinks in at the moment). Bob’s boyfriend is there too, all suited up with his hair pulled back - and if he looks a bit like Cracker out of drag, well, no one’s going to mention that.

“Will you just stop?” he hisses at Cracker. “I’m trying to work out how I want to… You know…” He widens his eyes at her, praying she’ll get the hint. They talked about it at lunch a couple days ago. She knows better than anyone else what Monét is planning. 

“Oh shit,” Cracker mumbles. Then a smile graces her features. “Oh shit. Tonight? Okay, then. Werk. Glad you’re finally taking my advice.”

“Girl, we would have left your ass and gone down to the bar if we knew you were going to hide in the bathroom all night, practicing your Oscar speech,” Bob shouts at him. Doesn’t matter what the size of the room is, Bob has one damn volume setting. “You’re giving up your lame-ass Miss Congeniality trophy, remember? Not accepting a new one.”

“Fuck off.” Monét gives up on hiding, comes out of the bathroom to hunt for the bottle of whatever everyone else is drinking.

“It’s not his Oscar speech that he’s practicing,” Cracker sing-songs, raising an evil eyebrow as she sinks back onto the loveseat.

“You can fuck off, too.”

“Ooooh!” Bob says with exaggerated delight. “That speech. Tonight’s the night, huh? Okay, well. Let’s hear it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Monét rolls his eyes.

“Speech, speech, speech!”

“Fuck off, Bob.” 

“Listen, I’ve been waiting for you to put the moves on one Nina West for two motherfucking years now.” Because Bob always knows what her sister needs, she produces a bottle of tequila from behind her back and hands it over to Monét. “Or have you forgotten the reason your sorry ass was in Columbus to begin with on that fateful weekend?”

Monét takes two (larger than necessary) drinks and replaces the cap. Liquid courage or some shit. “Yeah, okay. I was with you, taking care of you, like always. Never forget.”

Cracker reaches over for the bottle. “So what are you going to say?”

“I don’t fucking know. I didn’t exactly get that far.” Monét sighs. “Everything I come up with makes me sound like a stalker.”

“I mean…” Bob shrugs. “If the size 12 Pleaser fits…”

“Fuck off, Bob!” Monét grabs his wig and marches over to stand in front of a mirror, trying to position the piece correctly. Maybe he spends a little more time on it than is absolutely necessary. Maybe he’s trying to avoid anymore teasing from Bob and Cracker. Eventually, he can’t stall anymore, so he pats it down one final time, fluffs out the bits above his ears, and swivels around, gold sequins casting light around the room.

Cracker’s smiling at him. “You’re stunning.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me, bitch. I been knew.” Though (don’t tell Cracker, it’s nice to hear).

“Soooo…” Bob says slowly, drawing out the syllable for far too long, watching Monét carefully as he reapplies his lipstick. He could do that downstairs, but honestly he likes annoying Bob. “How are you gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

“Woo Miss Nina West. Seduce her. You gonna buy her a drink at the after party? Tell her you’ve been stalking her online like a crazy bitch ever since you saw her in Columbus back in 2017 but didn’t have the guts to say anything?”

“Don’t even -”

“Or tell her you, like, were all lovelorn and shit for the entirety of Season 11? Tell her how many watch parties you dragged me to just to catch a glimpse of that ass?”

“Bob,” Cracker says, a warning in her eyes.

“Or maybe you’ll lay on that ex-Miss Congeniality charm? You know she’s probably gonna take your crown this year, right? You gonna ask her to come upstairs so you can show her how to properly polish the trophy? Oh, Jesus, won’t that be annoying. Two of you.” Bob scoffs.

Monét rolls his eyes. “If I make a move on Nina West, it’s none of your goddamn business how I go about it, Roberta.” He grabs his earrings off the table, fixes them to his lobes. “Now. Can we please go before I’m late to my own give-up?”

Bob holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine. But you better clear the air tonight. It’s been how long now that you’ve been fucked up about her? It’s getting embarrassing -”

“Bob, drop it,” Cracker says, all low and soft in that voice she reserves only for Bob. Whatever they had together was a long time ago, but they still definitely know how to press each other’s buttons. It’s usually annoying. Tonight, Monét is grateful.

Bob and his boyfriend trudge ahead with little regard for Cracker and Monét as they walk to the elevator, but Cracker turns to Monét and grabs his hand. “Hey. Ignore him. He’s… You know.”

Monét nods. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you.” Cracker smiles. “Like - get it, girl. Took you long enough. And then you can introduce us. I always thought Nina and I would be friends.”

“Don’t go crazy now. Nothing’s happened yet. I don’t even know what to say.”

Cracker shrugs. “Just… be you. You know, everyone loves you so just… Go with that. Trust your gut.”

So Monét does. 

He also trusts champagne and tequila, and wonder of wonders, it seems to fucking work. Nina laughs and banters and smiles at him, gorgeous and glittering with alcohol, and for once in his damn life, Monét feels like this is something that’s supposed to happen. Like he’s in the right place at the right time and this is a sure damn thing.

So he invites Nina back to his room (put that speech on the back-burner, girl, just for now) and Nina says “yes.” 

Jesus of all Christs.

As Monét walks back up to his room, his final remaining braincell (listen, he’s had some drinks) thinks it’s a good idea to text Cracks: “It’s HAPPENING!!!!!!!” like some sort of schoolgirl. She responds immediately with the eye-roll emoji and several eggplants. Whatever, she loves him.

He gets his paint off, gets changed - wishes he had time for a shower, but the last thing he wants to do is miss Nina’s knock. It feels like a lifetime and also thirty seconds before Nina shows up outside his door still in his paper-doll pink, and it’s ridiculous and adorable and hot as hell, and the rest of the night just - disappears. 

Magic.

So clearly the last thing he’s thinking about is giving Nina West this like - awful crazy-bitch speech about maybe having a crush on him for longer than he should’ve. The alcohol helped him not think about it too much (and Monét’s a damn over-thinker. He might not seem the type but that’s ‘cause he makes flawless look so easy, child). The next morning (afternoon), there’s no alcohol left in his system to blame and Monét has to - as they say - step his pussy up.

So he asks Miss Nina West out for lunch. 

He’s as cool and casual as he possibly can be when what he really wants to do is just roll back under the blankets with that man, but - lunch, first. Then - his stupid ass speech. Then, hopefully - the rest. Like, rolling around in blankets, a relationship, a proposal somewhere down the line, a minivan and four kids and white picket fences… All that good stuff (Jesus Christ, calm your tits girl).

He might fucking floss after Nina leaves, might spend a bit too long moisturizing.  Whatever, it’s nothing. He’s not building this up in his head or anything, he’s just - making an effort (Nina West is the reigning Miss Congeniality okay? Monét ignores the fact that he’s the reigning All Stars champion).

And when he goes down to Nina’s room, clutching the rest of the clothing Nina left behind, and running over his dumb-ass speech in his head (“This probably sounds - stupid, okay, but I saw you at this show back in Ohio two years ago - no, don’t laugh, it was a good show, you looked good, and I remember - I thought -”)

But Nina doesn’t answer the door.

Monét waits a bit, knocks again.

No one answers.

Fuck. 

He wishes he’d gotten Nina’s phone number, because maybe he’s gone out, or had to meet up with someone, or is in some hotel room holding back Brooke Lynn’s hair as the queen cries out her broken heart (Monét ain’t blind, right? He knows what that shit looks like). Or maybe Monét got the numbers wrong (that was a lot of tequila), and this ain’t Nina’s room.

Shit.

Or maybe -

Nah, nah, he won’t go there. Nina West is not the kind of person that would ghost someone. Monét’s sure. 

Pretty sure.  

No, there’s no way.

He can’t wait in the hallway all day looking like some sad-ass puppy, so Monét folds the rest of Nina’s clothing, stacks it outside his door.  Then he impulsively decides to leave his number as well. (Nina could get his number, right? From so many other queens, so Monét has zero chill, but fuck it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained or some other cliche bullshit he read on a cross stitch sampler at his Nana’s house.)

In his hand, his phone buzzes with a text from Cracker.

Bitch where are you??? Let’s do lunch. I need to know allllll the details! Then another eggplant Emoji. And the water droplets, which Monét thinks is just crass, but whatever.

Meet me in the lobby, Monét fires back as he turns around and walks back down the hall toward the elevator. 

There’s an explanation, he’s sure of it. 

He allows himself to entertain the idea as he rides the elevator down to the lobby. Nina will text, apologize, they’ll work things out, get them sorted. Everything will be fine in the end.

Monét has burned red-hot (silently, from a distance) for Nina West for way too long. 

There’s no way it’s going to end like this.

[happiibaka]

DIMLIM Second Interview (Pg. 1 of 4)

*YOU CAN SHARE/LIKE, BUT PLEASE DO NOT REPOST TEXT ELSEWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION. I HONESTLY DIDN’T HAVE TO, BUT I WORKED REALLY HARD ON THIS TRANSLATION FOR AN UNNECESSARILY LONG TIME. IF YOU WANT TO TRANSLATE THIS TO ANOTHER LANGUAGE, PLEASE CREDIT ME AS THE SOURCE OR JUST ASK ME; DESPITE THE CAPS, I DON’T BITE lol*

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Original interview link: https://toppamedia.com/interview-2019-9-dimlim/ News Coverage/ Interview Script: 宮久保仁貴 Editor: 松江佑太郎

Translations/English Edits: @happiibaka

(*) = My notes/ clarifications; I didn’t want my explanations to clutter up the dialogues.

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INTERVIEW START:

On August 17, 2019, DIMLIM held 『CHEDOARA』, their greatest one-man live to date, at SHIBUYA TSUTAYA O-WEST. The live was named after their album 『CHEDOARA』, which was released last August 2018; the live itself was announced later that same year in December. With 『CHEDOARA』 set as the base, the setlist was determined from the previously released 『Rijin』, as well as the *『Kidoairaku』 (Human Emotions) single that was exclusively released at the venue the day of. Through the live, the band expressed the culmination of “human emotions” they carried on their backs through their journey in the past year. The day also marked the conclusion of DIMLIM’s second chapter in the band’s history, as members Ryuuya (Gt) and Taishi (Ba) officially withdrew from the band on the same day.

And on Friday, September 20, 2019, Sho (Vo), Retsu (Gt), and Hiroshi (Dr) will hold their one-man live 『Sonzai Shoumei』 (Proof of Existence) as a newly reformed band of three. They also announced the release of a 2nd album following 『CHEDOARA』 at the end of this year in December. DIMLIM is starting to move forward, as the band plunges into the third chapter of its career.

This time, without taking any stops, DIMLIM has continuously progressed forward with their band activities. I asked them about their journey for the past year, the 『CHEDOARA』 live, the thoughts and emotions that were put into their work 『Kidoairaku』, and the new step they are taking into the band’s third chapter through various band activities.

(*Kidoairaku means “human emotions”. The 『喜怒哀楽』kanji literally translates to “joy, anger, pathos, humor”. Just keep the concept in mind because the band mentions the expression quite often) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In regards to 『CHEDOARA』, DIMLIM’s greatest one man live (to date), the other day, great job! That was very much appreciated. I was able to see the live, and I think it demonstrated how the band’s vision has been more deeply polished and refined since the announcement from last December and within the past 8 months. From the announcement up until this point now, did the band as a whole have a change of heart/mind?

Sho: Since various things have happened, such as member withdrawals, rather than a change of heart/mind, more of our circumstances have changed. As expected, we experienced some ups and downs in our mood. However, I think that we still moved on without falling apart as we took each step forward.

Hiroshi: I definitely don’t want anyone to perceive that as a minus/disadvantage.

Retsu: There was nothing but a change of heart/mind. But definitely not in a bad way. Right now, with the 3 of us, our artist picture shows us almost in our bare minimum*, but we had various thoughts before we reached that stage.

(*In comparison to before appearance wise, considering they are in the visual kei scene)

So you’re saying?

Retsu: Well, since the release of 『CHEDOARA』 up until now… this isn’t the band’s outlook from here on out, but it made me think that it was a good phase in the band’s career. In addition to that, I think our band has evolved. We had a tour, even participated in the Metal Square event, and experienced all sorts of incidents and troubles. As a result, I think it’s most fitting to say that our perspectives have broadened.

Along with your minds, I think the acoustic and lighting conditions for the August 17 live elevated the band’s status by illuminating how much the band had polished itself. Who was put in charge that day?

Retsu: The lighting was done by a person named “Mori”-san. He is close to us in age and also really close with the band. If we told him beforehand the key points, the atmosphere, and the images we had in mind, we would have a light discussion afterwards. Rather than telling him “please do this in this certain way”, we entrusted the task to him because we know that he puts a lot of thought into his work and ideas.

The sounds/acoustics were done by *白土-san (SHIBUYA CYCLONE PA). When we performed at CYCLONE, we noticed that the acoustics surpassed that of other livehouses, so we were surprised. From then on, we invited him to work on the acoustics for our tour and the like. Even for the August 17 live, we thought that it was impossible to have anyone else other than 白土-san, so we requested him to work with us. We feel like he really understands us. Other than what we know and want, he also takes other factors into account and really looks after us in terms of sound. That’s pretty much how it is in terms of our sound and lighting structure.

(*I think it’s pronounced Shirato-san, but I’m not entirely sure so I left the original kanji in. I didn’t want to butcher the person’s name lol; if anyone knows let me know!)

So that’s why the pieces exactly fit together! An awe-inspiring sensation was expressed in your performance like never before.

Retsu: We feel like we are better suited for live houses that have high ceilings. I feel like the more we perform on a larger scale, the band shines just as much. In regards to that, we don’t have any worries; we just think that we have achieved at least a little bit of what we’ve wanted to do.

Alright. For that day’s setlist, previously released 『CHEDOARA』 and 『Rijin』 were the focus of the concert, which I thought were well interwoven with that day’s limited release 『Kidoairaku』. While determining the setlist, were there any themes that you were conscious of?

Sho: When initially deciding on the setlist, I really wanted to put it in the order of the limited release 『Kidoairaku』. First would be 『Ki』、then 『Do』、then 『Ai』、then 『Raku』. I wanted to put it together in this order and then squeeze in tracks from 『CHEDOARA』. As we were discussing it, we were saying “this isn’t it; that isn’t it”.

Retsu: We decided on the setlist relatively quickly. Immediately after the release, we did a limited one-man live for those who purchased it and performed all the songs from 『CHEDOARA』. From then on we were pretty much open for a one year period, so while we were thinking about how to showcase the band for our live at Shibuya O-West, we established that list and the limited release CD as our core and created the live with 『CHEDOARA』 as the focal point.

By the way, I heard that artist and designer “Kyougu”-san was in charge of some of the new goods that day. Especially with the  『Aizou ni Tsuki...』 t-shirt, I can strongly sense the song’s and the band’s view of the world.

Sho: The release of t-shirts with two of “Kyougu”-san’s patterns was decided beforehand. The kanji for 『Aizou ni Tsuki...』 is really nice. We haven’t really used letters/characters before...I really liked the appearance of the characters, especially the appearance of the characters “Aizou”. We wanted to leave behind our inspiration as it is.

I see. So in summarizing various things, how was the reaction the day of the live? Personally, I felt like I was able to feel the pulsation of everyone’s lives up on the stage. I felt like it was a live packed with all the emotions of 『Kidoairaku』.

Retsu: The moment I came out, the moment I took one step onto the stage...

Hiroshi: I thought “We won, we got this!” *laughs*

Retsu: There was that too. Definitely, the atmosphere was completely different from that of a usual livehouse. It was something that I had never experienced before--feelings almost like “Kidoairaku”. I felt it the moment the *SE started ringing throughout the venue. Then from there we’ve had various things happen such as the member withdrawals… So the moment we entered the stage, I realized that it was different from our usual lives. While we were performing, I felt like we were able to create musical connections, even in regards to the SE. I think we were able to move forward while taking in everyone’s reactions.

(*I believe SE means intro song)

I would like to touch more on 『Kidoairaku』, the piece that elicited the reaction above. When did you start planning for this piece? Also, when did the production itself start?

Hiroshi: Isn’t it immediately after we decided that we would perform at O-West?

Retsu: I actually can’t remember at all *laughs*

Sho: Production probably started about half a year ago. Originally, there was a song that we were thinking about releasing...

Retsu: While we were thinking about all kinds of stuff, while we were doing various things during the 『CHEDOARA』 live, we settled on the title “Kidoairaku”. It was simple, so we didn’t think much of it. 

As we were performing, I realized that we created a song that appropriately contextualized the emotions of joy and anger that I was feeling inside. So on the contrary, I think everything went smoothly. I wasn’t too worried. 

As was the case with the 『CHEDOARA』 album, I was surprised by the seamless connections between the songs and the degree of completeness. I especially feel the beginning and the end of the pieces 『Do』、『Ai』、『Raku』. In recent years, Retsu-san has been composing more music. Are there any genres that have influenced you? I sense multiple musical elements in your compositions, without specifically restricting yourself to the so-called genre of heavy music.

Hiroshi: When I first heard the demo, I was surprised and said “What IS this!?” *laughs*

Sho: It was mysterious since the demo stage, so I thought “What the?” *laughs*

Retsu: “What the hell is this?” is a reasonable thought to have when releasing a song. I didn’t want to restrain myself to any genre. Recently, I listen to more popular music rather than extreme music. My theme is learning how to incorporate different elements and thoroughly absorb them. I think it’s fine to create things in that way in the beginning.

With the SE and the way you use sound, it’s not interesting to come up with ideas using fixed ideas or a formula. I also feel like the audience members who come to see us don’t want ordinary stuff. Moreover, whatever I have absorbed and created, I try to bring it to life with the band.  As a band, we feel that just being cool is not interesting at all. In regards to our compositions, our biggest concern is how to approach and express our music.

As with previous works, I feel like you are including more avant-garde elements with every release.

Retsu: Just like Sho said, at first everyone is like “Huh?” or “What is this?”. I believe that’s more interesting. I think it’s important to have songs that are obvious like “Oh, this song has this specific kind of feeling”, but if we only have those kind of songs then it won’t be interesting. So I try to surprise the members at first. Also, the compositions can give me confidence as a composer. It’s not a conflict between the individual and the band, but I don’t think you can make good music without some stimulation. I just felt like the days of simply making cool things are over. 

That’s why I am writing songs that I myself would like to be surprised by; if I can’t move or impress myself, I don’t think the people listening to our music would be moved or impressed either. I am composing music while being conscious of that.

[jackbeiste]

stumblin’ in [jack + sebastian]

characters: jack beiste and sebastian smythe (@sebastiansmythejoie)

date: october 15

note: jack wants to study, and sebastian feels surprisingly okay with it

warnings: minor explicit mentions

jack

He did feel a bit insecure about his sex life... perhaps not really the active sex life itself, but rather the way he quite enjoyed submitting to men... that he didn't actually know that well at all. It wasn't like he hadn't had his kinks during his solo sessions, but... he was truly getting an appetite for it. But the asks the other night made him hesitate. He felt embarrassed at the idea that people knew what he was doing. Whenever he had thought about sex before either Valerian or Sebastian, the realistic fantasies had always been... more making love. Now? He wasn't sure what the fuck was going on. Instead of cancelling on Sebastian, he decided that they were perfectly capable of doing something else - even if his idea of going to the library together was easily abandoned. Still, he actually felt quite relaxed as he knocked on Sebastian's door; strangely excited in a way to do something that didn't include getting their clothes off for once.

sebastian

Sebastian was looking forward to seeing Jack again, he was almost surprised the boy hadn't cancelled after yesterdays ordeal with the invasive internet people who seemed so interested in Jack's sex life. The younger man didn't exactly seem happy about how much was being shared but Seb wasn't ashamed and clearly neither was Val. He was just happy Jack hadn't been put off enough that he didn't want to see Bas again. Sebastian laughed at his phone seeing the text about studying and shook his head. Sure studying. Bas poured himself a drink as he closed his books for the night, not actually expecting to look at them again. He needed a drink though, things had been tough with Kat and Val recently and now that fencing competition season was close he was back to consuming nothing more elicit than a stiff drink. "Hello handsome" Bas smiled, opening the door for Jack, he chuckled seeing the books in Jacks arms.

jack

"Hey," he said softly, stepping inside. He had to admit, it felt a bit weird. It was the first time he'd meet up with Sebastian without... well, without sex being involved. He hoped the brunette would be okay with that. "I brau.... brought snacks to.. too." He walked over to place his books on Sebastian's table, shrugging his bag off to start piling up all his study snacks next to the books.

sebastian

Sebastian watched Jack with interest, again noticing the speech impediment but choosing to not mention it. Too many times in the past he had ended up in horrible situations because of things people couldn't change about themselves and Jack seemed like an honest good person and Seb didn't want to destroy that. Having someone honest and good around was what he needed right now, even if he would never admit it. "You know the only thing you needed to bring was yourself." He chuckled, but decided to go along with this plan to study, at least for a while. Seb sat down at the place at the table opposite Jack and flipped open the book on the top of his pile, taking a drink from the glass he had just poured.

jack

Jack rolled his eyes at the comment, though unable to stop a smirk. Even if it did fluster him a lot, he liked how Sebastian had no issue commenting on that kind of stuff. The words stayed with him all day, giving him a confidence he hadn't thought possible. He shrugged his bag off, candy and baked goods welling out like he'd packed for a month away in the woods. "Did your midtem.. midterms go ok, okay?" He asked softly, opening one of his books before looking for the right notebook on his bag filled with snacks and a few other things, like a notebook or two.

sebastian

Seb chuckled, his ability to make men smirk silly was one of his greatest sources of pride. "Mid-terms were as expected, A's across the board so keeping up my 3.9 GPA." He responded, with a look that said, 'I'm a genius and I know it'. "How were yours, Mr Pirates of the Caribbean?" Seb rolled his eyes in a playful mocking way, remembering Jack talking about his Pirates and the Carribean class earlier in the semester. A child-like mischievous look appeared on his face at the sight of baked goods. "Are you a baker?" He asked curiously, eyeing the treats.

jack

Jack nodded, not entirely surprised. He studied Law, after all... or he thought so anyway. He felt too shy to ask for clarification at this point. "I... okay, I thunk. Think," He said with a slight shrug. He'd been freaking out about midterms, especially as it was his very first time, even if he'd never been too concerned with grades (to be fair, he'd only gotten grades below A or B a few times, and it had mostly been math). "Sometimes... only at Val's. These are bau... bought."

sebastian

Seb tipped his head thoughtfully. "Did you not get your grades back yet? The deadline was supposed to be the 14th, that's why we had that weird camping social event so the profs could have a day full of grading." Seb rolled his eyes, teachers sure could be useless sometimes. "only at Val's" He stiffened in his seat. A flicker of something different crossed Bastian's face at the comment about Val. A lot of things in Sebastians life seemed to be hanging on that man. Seb was usually so relaxed around Jack but now he forced himself to stare at the text book in front of him reading the same sentence over and over. "How about you make me something sweet instead." Seb retorted, pushing down the feeling something was stuck in his throat.

jack

"I did... mostly As and Bs," He replied, not as used to bragging and boasting as Sebastian seemed to be. The only reason he got good grades was because he was also passionate about the subjects in his courses after all. He glanced over at the other man with a confused look, not entirely sure why his entire demeanor had suddenly changed. Was it somethint he had said? "Now?"

sebastian

Seb was slightly confused that Jack did in-fact know his grades but hadn't offered the information until Seb asked, especially when he had done well. He shrugged it off, taking another drink and grabbing a snack from the pile Jack had created on his dining table. "Sure, why not, unless you only bake for your special friend." He teased, letting humour cover his thoughts.(edited)

jack

"He's not...," Jack murmured, feeling his cheeks heat up. He knew Valerian and Sebastian had talked about him, and it made him a little nervous. "We're so.. supposed to studi.. study," He countered, looking over at the older man with a raised eyebrow. At least it wasn't sex he was suggesting, Jack reasoned with himself. Then again, baking had been the thing that somehow turned into sex at Valerian's. "Can you kv.. quiz me instead?"

sebastian

"That blush suits you handsome." Sebastian chuckled, it was easy to disarm Jack and he liked that. "Fine let's study." He rolled his eyes playfully, sticking his tongue out at Jack. Bas would never admit to any kind of jealousy and would do everything in his power to cover it and his playful expression was aiming to do just that. "Do you have flash cards or something or do you want me to surprise you?" He responded, reaching for Jack's text book, pushing his own aside.

jack

He flashed a grin at the way Sebastian stuck his tongue out, relaxing as the other man seemed to be okay after all. "Uh, there's some ques...tions at the end," he explained, gesturing for the other to turn the page. He liked the book because the quiz part was always easy but good, with concrete questions like, "where is Havana?" or "What did the Spanish mainly trade with in the Caribbean?"

sebastian

Sebastian flipped though the book, skimming some of the information; he was curious by nature and this was a completely new subject to him, learning new things was one of his pleasures in life. Finally he stopped at the page labelled quiz. "Okay here's a interesting one! What relation did Mary Read have to Mark Read?"

jack

A smile formed on his lips as Sebastian actually seemed to be looking for the chapter's study questions; it felt strange, but good, to be doing this. It wasn't all fucking with them, but it sure wasn't this. Sex was always the focus of their meetings. "All right, um...," He ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Mark Read was Mary Reed, Read's alter-ego. She began dressing as a boy when she was young, and it eventually took her to the, ah, West Indies where she worked as a pirate under Jack Rackham."

sebastian

Sebastian cocked his head with a smile Jack was clearly in his element with this, and he was enjoying seeing passion in Jack that wasn't just for their sexual endeavours. "Way more information than they asked for but Mary Read sounds like a girl who knows what she wants, kudos." Seb looked back down at the book, but his eyes kept flicking back up to Jack's face. "Okay next question, What did the Spanish mainly trade with in the Caribbean?"

jack

"Yeah, but you know they'll want that part too on the eks.., exam," He shrugged, blushing slightly as he knew it was more his interest in the subject than in getting the best grade possible. "Uh, sugar and slaves."

sebastian

"Is it essay questions or quick answers for the exam?" Seb asked curiously, it was unlike him to openly take an interest in another person but Jack was interesting in him and that didn't happen often beyond being interested for sex. "So tell me what does a Pirates and the Carribean class get you after college?"

jack

"Both. At leash.. least on the midterms," Jack said, a bit thoughtfully. He quite liked it that way, even if he sometimes felt they used the wrong format for the wrong topics. Especially his class about witchcraft in american history. The professor loved to force them to go into details about mundane things, while the really interesting stuff only demanded quick answers; sometimes they were even just a simple three choice question. But he felt a bit uncertain wether that would interest Sebastian; he'd never been this interested in something that didn't clearly result in sex before. "Uh," he reached up to rub his temple, a small smile on his lips; both at the clear interest, and the fact taht he had no idea what he wanted to do. "It's not just pirates."

sebastian

Sebastian watched Jack carefully answering his questions about his classes, paying the younger man his full attention. He was getting more curious about Jack's speech; it seemed like he had more to say but was holding back, maybe because of his impairment, Seb wanted to ask but he knew this could go the wrong way and he didn't want to end up in any situation like he had done in the past. "What else are you studying?" He asked, gently pushing Jack to elaborate, he took a long drink from his glass, keeping his eyes on the other.

jack

He'd be lying if he didn't feel a bit surprised as well as relieved at how both Sebastian and Valerian seemed to just take his speech for what it was. It had felt more terrifying than he had expected to suddenly be in a new environment with none of his best friends around. Gabriel was there, sure, but it was different. His best friends from back home all had speech issues. But as relaxed as he felt, he still couldn't quite bring himself to talk freely. He kept the blabbering online. It made him feel safe, but he also felt limited. There was so much he wanted to say. But he supposed he also had a feeling Sebastian wasn't that interested. Perhaps the interest was simply because he didn't talk much. He doubted the older man would look as interested in what he was saying if he actually did say all he wanted to. "Uh, the wild west in popular culture. Wy.. Witches in America. All history stuff."

sebastian

"So you either want to teach kindergartener's history or you want to write period novels," Seb chucked, "Those are some wild class choices. The Ancient Egyptians and Romans will be so disappointed you're going all alternative." He rolled his eyes playfully. He was surprised how utterly interesting he found Jack and wanted the other to keep talking but he knew that wasn't necessarily a wish that could be fulfilled but as long as he kept talking Seb felt he could eventually get himself in under Jack's skin.

jack

He blushed at that, not as much at the former as the latter - Sebastian wasn't wrong about that part. "I prefer Perc.. Persia," he shrugged, covering up his trademark blush with a grin. He really did love Ancient Persia. "What do you study? You never told me." To be fair, Sebastian had told him extremely little about himself.

sebastian

"Aha good old Persia, always down for a fight, but what's got you so interested?" Seb laughed, History was something he was mildly interested in but really he just wanted to know more about Jack. Seb was fine bragging about his accomplishments but terrible at sharing personal things. "I'm in the Law program. Got to have some people with their head on straight ensuring the laws in this damn country are enforced." He shrugged, yeah he really was bad at talking about himself in a way that held any substance.

jack

"I...," Jack hesitated, not sure wether to go with the honest truth or just the truth. "I liked how it sounded in my head. I couldn't... get it right, but...," he shrugged, his speech choppier than usual as he told Sebastian something so personal. Maybe it wouldn't come off as personal, but sounds had always been personal to him. "Oh?" He smiled crookedly at that, amused at the phrasing. It seemed... very Sebastian. And he liked that.

sebastian

Seb cocked his head thoughtfully; it was like seeing into Jack's soul knowing sounds were so important to him even though he struggled so much with them. A shiver went through Seb as Jack told him something that was clearly so personal; he wasn't the kind of person others usually chose to confide in. "That part of Southwestern Asia is supposed to be beautiful so if you like the name of their historic empires maybe the place will be just as fascinating." Seb mused, it was nothing to him to think of taking a trip just because he had an interest in something, plus he had a niggling part of his mind wanting to whisk Jack away. "How else do you think they will know who needs to be punished." Seb winked, not ready to tell Jack his deeper feeling on his future in law.

jack

Jack nodded, reaching up to rub at his temple a bit nervously; something he often did when he felt vunerable or insecure. He hadn't expected to confide in Sebastian, it had just come out. He hoped the older man would be okay with it, even if he was clearly not the kind of person who liked to get personal. "I hope to c... see it one day," he said softly. He had travelled quite a bit with his father across America, but he'd never been abroad. Sometimes he wasn't sure he wanted to - afraid that reality would be a disappointment compared to the worlds he'd created in his mind. He chuckled at that, but felt a bit strange at how this made his heart buzz. He knew better than to see Sebastian like that. "You don't want to do the punishing?" He asked innocently, raising an eyebrow, as he took extra care to spell out the last word correctly.

sebastian

"Maybe if you're good I'll take you" Seb winked, teasing to lighten the mood. He was enjoying seeing inside Jack but serious conversations were not something he felt comfortable with often and Jack was new in his life, though admittedly he had seen more of Jack recently than some of his fuckboys across the lifetime of their 'relationships'. "Oh punishment I can do," Seb grinned at the so called innocent look on Jack's face. "Do you want me to show you how well I can punish?" He whispered seductively, leaning over so his lips were almost touching Jack's ear as he spoke.

jack

Jack swallowed hard at the question, almost dropping the pen he'd kept in his hand. The words, especially the way they were said, went straight to his crotch; he could feel his cock stir in his jeans. "I... yeah," he managed to get out before he could really stop himself, wanting nothing more than to be punished by Sebastian right now.

sebastian

Sex hadn't been the plan today, well in Sebastian's mind it had been but they had made plans to study but here they were once again about to spiral out of control. Seb seemed even more unable to keep things PG around Jack than everyone else in his life and that was saying something considering how often things turned sexual with Sebastian.

* * * * * * * *

jack

Jack collapsed onto the bed, body still shaking as he couldn't quite let go of the bed frame. He could tell he was going to be sore tomorrow, but right now he just felt bliss, almost sleepy bliss. He reached up just enough to be able to pull Sebastian on to the bed next to him, giving him a soft, almost thankful, kiss.

sebastian

Sebastian was panting hard but had a satisfied smile on his face and the post sex haze was settling over him. In the haze he allowed Jack to pull him in close and kiss him in what felt like a very sweet way; much sweeter than the kind of kiss Seb was used to and it made him shiver; goosebumps raising on his naked body. Bas kissed Jack back almost nervously; it was without his usual hunger, instead it was slow and soft, his eyes fluttering shut and simply feeling.

jack

He finally let go of the bed frame, his hand cupping Sebastian's cheek as he continued to kiss him; still soft, almost loving. He loved the taste of Sebastian; both bitter and sweet in a way he could never quite explain. And he loved the feeling of the other's naked body against his own, even when they were both as sweaty as now. He couldn't quite explain why, maybe it was because it was so rare - Sebastian was usually rather quick to get his pants on again, sometimes out the door before Jack had truly recovered. This was... different. His thumb stroked Sebastian's cheek, smiling into the kiss.

sebastian

Seb melted into the bed, letting himself be physically close to Jack. Post sex was raw and Seb had trained himself to escape that moment as soon as possible; he could never risk letting someone fall though the cracks in that moment when emotions were running wild. Right now though Sebastian's mind and body felt clouded in a way he wasn't used to and he couldn't bring himself to run from Jack. Even the thought of staying hot and sticky was usually enough to get him moving but right now he didn't care; the feel of Jacks hot messy body against him was almost soothing. Bas parted gently from the kiss and threaded his hands gently through Jack's hair; not rough as his did during sex but rather just enough to keep the younger man close so his sweet breath was hot on Seb's face.

jack

Jack sighed softly, a little sad the other man pulled away from the kiss but comforted by the way he ran his fingers through his hair. He leaned into his touch, his thumb still gently stroking Sebastian's cheek. He trailed one hand down to roll the condom off of the brunette, smirking at the fact that the other for once hadn't gotten around to that part yet. He removed his other hand from Sebastian's face to tie a knot on the condom, placing it as far away on the bed as possible; he'd throw it away later. Right now he just wanted to relish in the feeling of their warm, naked bodies against each other; Sebastian's soft skin sending shivers through him.

sebastian

Sebastian felt a thrill try and awaken his cock as Jack reached down to touch him but his body quickly relaxed again one the other had pulled off the condom. He was feeling quite self conscious that he was clearly too distracted to even remember that. Awkwardness was begining to creep up on Sebastian, he'd never spent this long laying with someone after sex, and he wasn't a person well versed in comfortable silences. He tried to think of something to say but he was distracted by the thumb caressing his cheek. Bas had never in all his long and torrid sexual history had someone caress him like this and suddenly he was feeling so overwhelmed when years of hidden emotions, crushed down under layers of cruelty and sarcasm, tried to escape.

jack

"I wish I didn't have to go," He murmured, his fingers running through the hair on the back of Sebastian's head; his eyes closed as he nuzzled into the pillow. He had no doubt this meant the study session had ended. Even if he wasn't expecting actual cuddling, it would be nice to just... lay there. If he wanted another turn, it was always rushed; often still too sensitive and exhausted from round one. And he would be lying if it didn't make him feel cheap sometimes,   almost expecting the older man to throw some coins at him as he rushed off. Maybe that wasn't fair - he knew what Sebastian was about, and yet he continued to see him. But it didn't make the feeling go away, or the feeling of constantly wanting just a little bit more of Sebastian for each time.

sebastian

"Shame we have people to do, things to see." Sebastian chuckled, spinning the common phrase on it's head as he often did. Laying here in the quiet with Jack the world seemed to slow and for a moment that was calming, nice even, but the world was starting to spin again and everything was catching up with him. He couldn't lay here forever because it just might start to crack the foundations of the walls he had built and he couldn't risk letting them fall; he couldn't risk getting hurt. "Speaking of things to do I have a Fencing preseason practice to get to shortly."

jack

Jack smiled small at that, though a little sadly as he knew time was up. He felt guilty about being such a bad fuck buddy, he knew what he had gotten himself into and yet, he couldn't help but expect more. It wasn't fair. "Yeah... yeah," he murmured, his hands withdrawing from Sebastian, not sure he could bear to continue to touch him now. Suddenly, he also wanted to leave. "I'll....," he gestured out towards the kitchen, almost rushing to grab the clothing items he'd dropped on their way from the kitchen table to the bed.

[74399777]

So a lot of people have asked me why I buy so many copies of Taylor Swift’s albums on release day. And I’ve never really explained it to anyone, mostly because I’m almost certain that my explanation won’t really give much clarity.

I was first was introduced to Taylor Swift in 2009, I was 14, in my freshman year of high school, and didn’t have any money of my own so I resorted to listening to her music on YouTube. I couldn’t buy any albums of my own. I couldn’t attend any tours. All I had was YouTube. One day, my grandma and I were at Walmart just picking up some items for her. Anytime I went to Walmart with her, she would let me pick out one thing to get, so this time around, I picked out Taylor’s first album, cleverly titled “Taylor Swift.” Haha. The next time around, I picked out her second album, Fearless. By this time, I knew the songs because I had been listening to them on YouTube. But there was something special about owning the music you love. In 2010, Taylor’s third album, Speak Now was released. I was still in high school and had no income of my own, so I, again, could only listen to it on YouTube.

When Taylor’s fourth album, RED, was released, I had a small job that was barely paying, but it was something. Up until this point, I had never been able to purchase my own albums, much less a concert ticket to see Taylor. I had missed every show she had done in Dallas, because I just did not have money to buy a ticket, regardless of how badly I wanted to see her. That changed with the RED era. While I didn’t have much money, I had some. So I was finally able to buy a copy of the album on release day. Just one. One copy. I also saved up for months and bought tickets to see her on the RED Tour. This was the first time I had seen her live, and even though I was in the nosebleed seats (section 443), when she came out, my hands and legs were shaking so hard I thought I was going to pass out. (I didn’t. Just... You know. Clarification.)

Two years later, 1989 came out. I now had a little bit better of a job that paid a little more. When album release day came around, I had requested the day off from work. I didn’t have a car, so I had my mom drop me off at Target at 8am, before she went to work. I went alone, with my little bit of money I had from my little cashiering job. This time, I bought four copies of her album. And even better tickets to The 1989 Tour. I was in section 126!

The reputation era rolled around after a hiatus in which Kim Kardashian and Kanye West were determined to destroy her career. This time around, I had moved up in the company I work for and made more money. I took my vacation on album release week, and on album release day, I bought 18 copies of the album. When the reputation Stadium Tour tickets went on sale, I got floor tickets for both nights, and night two, my sister and I were only FIVE rows away from Taylor’s stage. It’s something that I never thought would happen to me, as I never imagined I’d ever get close to this woman that I’ve idolized and supported for the last ten years.

Taylor’s new album, Lover, was released about less than 48 hours ago. On the morning of release day, I went to Target and bought 33 copies of the album. Taylor’s Speak Now, RED, 1989, and reputation albums have all sold over a million copies in the first week of release. She is the only person in history to ever achieve this. The reason I buy so many is because I want to help her continue to break records, and if I can afford to, I do. I went from not being able to support her by buying even a single album to being able to buy multiple copies of the album in one trip.

And while this still may not make sense to anyone, it’s what makes me happy and my ever-growing Taylor Swift album collection is one of my prized possessions.

@taylorswift

[dothewrite]

announcement.

Hello everyone, it's Haru here.

It's certainly been a while, and for all those who're still here to read this small letter, I'm truly grateful from the bottom of my heart. I'm sorry for the long absence and the silence in general on both this and my personal blog.

As you guys know, tumblr has changed a lot, very suddenly, after the banning of explicit material a few months ago, and since then the site hasn't been quite the same. I found myself on social media less, and tumblr even more so, with half the content vanished and several controversies regarding fic authors and such. It was kind of a mess. But of course, I can't simply set that up as an excuse for the fact that since the beginning of this year, things have changed for me too. I usually don't put my personal baggage onto this blog unless it's someone asking for my opinion or advice, but I thought after all this time and silence I owe the remainder of you guys some explanation.

Although the whole of 2018 was an absolute shit-show for me, things really began to change starting last Christmas, and only recently (relatively) finalized about three days ago. Mostly, it was family issues. As an East Asian, where from I think I've mentioned in some post or another, we're mostly expected to live at home until we get married (just for clarification for those from the West who're wondering what sort of bum I am for still living with my parents), so I've more or less had to live with those issues every day, every night. Divorces, weddings, financial disputes, you name it. And with all those things, came incredible financial instability in one of the top five most expensive cities to live in worldwide. So, along with that, my lovely friend called depression I'm sure you're all familiar with, I could no longer afford to sit around and pick up freelance to sustain myself whilst writing fic. Honestly, the biggest issues was that I was more or less completely dead inside, which surprisingly doesn't do much for one's creativity.

And now, having reached this time of year and this stage of supreme resignation, I don't think that I will be continuing this blog anymore.

Perhaps some of you might actually think that it's been a long time coming, and I'd agree with you, but I do want to say that it's not a spur of the moment thing--I've been mulling over it very seriously for about half a year. This blog, and all you guys, ALL of you, have been one of the very few things that kept me going in my worst years. I began this in 2016, the worst year of my life to date, and received so much support from you all that I have actually been reduced to tears. I've disappointed quite a few of you, I know, but you never gave me any shit over it and for that I'm eternally grateful. Sometimes I look back at the things I used to write, and although I can easily point out the mistakes now, I miss the person I used to be, even at my worst. I miss how all I lacked were the ideas, and had you all to help me with that. I'm sorry to have to repay all your kindness with me like this, right now. But I think that leaving you hanging in eternal hiatus is in some way worse.

I'm trying to get myself together now. To admit where I can't continue, but not to run away from its conclusion. I won't stop writing because I'm emotionally incapable of losing my final coping mechanism, and I want to return to social media again to at least find some lost joy in seeing art and fic and other people being happy about things. I'll be moving almost completely to AO3 as haruun, where I'll be able to stop worrying about exposure or followers or reblogs. Also, I'll be shifting to instagram as ‘@haruunhere’. If you don't mind some personal posts along with sparse writing, please follow me there. Although I'm more quiet there I already check instagram frequently, and I welcome all DMs.

This blog will be officially closed in two days time, on the 22nd of March 2019. I'll keep it up, nothing here will be deleted, but I will no longer be checking asks or messages here.

Finally, I just want to thank you all one last time for how much you've all given me. Thank you for talking to me, thank you for reading my things, and thank you for all the messages you've left and the comments that have honestly kept me going when I loathed every word I came out with. You are the only reason why I dared to pick up freelance, to pick up real life part time jobs as I told others that I could write. Thank you for giving me the confidence I never had in something I thought I was never good at. It changed my life.

I won't stop writing, ever. I won't disappear from fandom either, especially with Haikyuu's season 4 announced, and maybe then I'll be returning to my personal blog to fangirl with you all. But for now, this is goodbye here, and hopefully, I'll see you all around.

Thank you, and I'm sorry.

(P.S. Around two months ago, after a convo with one of you, I was motivated to tackle Ringleaders once again. So, I’ve re-plotted it completely, and have the framework basically all ready to go. It’s the project that interests me the most right now so if you’re interested in how it’ll be redone, it’ll be updated and continued on my AO3.)

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Not a request but I was wondering if you could share your advice and wisdom on how to write good papers! All I write are lab reports which consist of saying things in the most concise manner. E.g. summarizing steps, results, purpose, conclusions, and trends all in 250 words or less so I find myself struggling immensely with my ethics paper that, unlike a lab report, has no right or wrong. Any help would be majorly appreciated! Thank you 💜

Jesus um, I don’t know how helpful I’ll be because to me, writing a paper comes effortlessly and really doesn’t take much effort.

So, the first thing you have to have is knowing what you’re going to argue/prove. This is your thesis. It doesn’t have to be well written at this point, and it can change as you wright, but you have to know what you’re trying to prove in your paper or it’s shit.

Example: 

My working idea was “the canoe is important to Canada.” By the end of my paper, my thesis was “From its origin to present, the canoe has been important to Canada, not only through its use, but through its symbolism.”

Once you have your thesis, it’s onto planning. I always start with organizing my thoughts. You can do this with a mindmap, but I just use point form.

Example:

Paragraph 1: Canoe’s tie to the myth of the wilderness

Daniel Francis said the canoe is the vehicle in which we are reborn as Canadians

Wilderness is unique to Canada, something we own

Filling the gap within Canada 


So I have the main idea and then points I’ll discuss. The points can be as detailed or short as you want/need (those are short because it’s an example).

Do this for all your paragraphs and remember not to fall victim to the idea of a five paragraph essay they sold you in high school. You’re going to have a lot more points than three for a paper.

And if one of your argument has three sub-arguments that are long and you have 2+ evidence for each of them, make them their own paragraph.

Once you’re down with the planning, move on to your rough draft. That’s where you actually write out what you’re going to say.

Not all paragraphs will take this form, but as an introduction to paper writing: First sentence say your point. Then provide your evidence. Then explain it’s significant/relate it to your thesis.

Example:

“The canoe links the present to our collective past, the fur trade.” Is my opening sentence, then I talk about how the fur trade and the canoe spanned across Canada, how Canada lacks a national identity, then how this is all important because of Emily West (someone we studied in the course) and her arguments about the connection between collective memory and national identity.

You’re going to do this for all your paragraphs.

Once that’s done, you move on to your introduction. The introduction’s structure changes depending on the course: sometimes the thesis is in the middle, sometimes it’s the last sentence, sometimes it’s its own paragraph. Check with your instructor/TA with what they want.

First line, give your readers a hook. Something that is going to grab their attention. Maybe it’s a slogan, a statistic, a quote. 

Example:

I used the slogan of Canada’s biggest canoe company for my canoe paper, “made in Canada and proud of it.” For my paper on Canadian peacekeeping, I used Rex Murph’s quote “We promised them peacekeepers…and we sent them thugs.”

Then you say your thesis and then your points (or vice versa). 

Example:

“This will be demonstrated by first… secondly… etc.”

After that, you move on to your conclusion. Restate your thesis, summarize your points, and then give the so what factor. Why is all of this important? What does this matter? This is something you talked about in your paper that was not listed as a point. It’s the bigger idea, an overarching theme.

Example: 

“While the canoe succeeded at filling the gap left by Canada’s massive empty space and becoming a stately pleasure; it also succeeded at widening another gap in Canadian society: the gap between Canada and their indigenous population…at its core, is a projection of Canada’s internalized racism towards its indigenous peoples.”

Your first draft is done! Yay!! Now give it a working title and it’s time to edit and revise! If you read your first draft a hate it, don’t worry, rarely is the first draft a masterpiece. Don’t be afraid to completely rewrite or even cut paragraphs.

This was not edited, so I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes. Feel free to message me for clarification or more help. xx

[bullet-farmer]

Okay, I’m having a horrible mental-health day and feel overwhelmed by work, and talking about something that’s been bothering me really feels liberating. Because I feel like it’s one thing I can control right now.

Please don’t reblog this or tag it. I don’t want this to become Discourse, especially in an awesome fandom. But I needed to get this out in a space where people I trust can reply if they wish. I’m fine with disagreement and discussion, as long as people respect my feelings, or ask for clarification if they don’t understand what I’m talking about.

This got long. And it’s about pronouns. And fictional characters. And idk.

Another thing that kind of bothers me about assuming they/them or ze/zir for Beelzebub’s pronouns, and why I’m using both less and less*: I’m really uncomfortable with how few authors do the same for any other character (save, of course, for Pollution, whose pronouns are clearly mentioned as they/them and really should be used exclusively, because that’s just the decent thing to do).  Of course, some people use they/them across the board, or pronouns other than she/her and he/him in any combination. But in my experience, authors who do this are quite rare, at least on Ao3. In most cases, I find authors using “gendered” (for lack of a better word) pronouns for everyone else--namely, those that (presumably) match the gender of the actor who plays each role. For example: she/her for Michael and Dagon, and he/him for Hastur and Gabriel. 

I don’t want to make assumptions about why people do this. For one thing, making sweeping generalizations about people is always a bad idea. It’s even a worse idea when talking about why a group as diverse as fanfic authors. For another, I don’t know what is in people’s hearts or minds, and I’d rather not try to arbitrate any thoughts but my own. That said, in the West, we are swimming in a sea of gender essentialism and binarism. And I can’t help but feel that both are somehow in play in this phenomenon.

Angels and demons in Good Omens are nonbinary. But from a binarist point of view, you could say that nearly all of the angels and demons have at least a few stereotypical masculine or feminine qualities. For example: Michael wears makeup, and a very frilly blouse at one point; Michael’s suit and Uriel’s have what we would call a feminine cut. Dagon has long hair in a style we would call feminine, Sandalphon has male-pattern baldness, Hastur has a deep voice and wears “masculine” clothes, etc. 

But Beelzebub breaks this pattern. She’s what people in the West tend to think of when they hear the term “androgynous”: somewhat boyish and youthful in appearance, dressing in typically “masculine” clothes that don’t emphasize her shape, and behaving in a way that many would call more masculine than feminine. To put it another way, she is aggressive, she speaks forcefully, she shows no hallmarks of being a queen or princess, and she entirely lacks subtlety. Women, of course, are socialized to do the exact opposite. Save for her appearance at the airfield, she is also far more unkempt than any character in the series with the possible exception of Hastur.  I’m beginning to see several problems as I go deeper into this deep dive.  First problem: the assumption that “nonbinary” means androgynous or genderless. And, as a subset of that problem, the assumption that androgynous and agender/genderless are synonymous, and that they/them and ze/zir are “genderless” pronouns. For some people, they very much are. For others, they are not. (For example, a blogger I follow identifies as a cis woman and uses both she/her and they/them).  Second problem: The fact that a character played by an actress simply must be agender or “not female” because said character is androgynous and behaves in stereotypically “masculine” ways.  Third problem: ...Why are we only insisting on they/them or ze/zir for the dirtiest, least conventionally attractive character in the show? I mean, being dirty and unkempt isn’t a stereotypically nonbinary trait, but considering how society sees women who don’t obsess over their looks as “not real women,” this has some very unfortunate implications to me. Fourth problem: Y’all, Neil didn’t say that Beelzebub would probably use they/them as pronouns. He said “zir” (and to be honest, I think that was him being witty rather than making an official statement). I understand that some people can uses these interchangeably to describe themselves, but they really aren’t interchangeable. And acting like they are, strikes me as basically saying “well, these are all nongendered pronouns, so just pick whichever you like best when talking about someone.” Imagine calling someone whose pronouns are they/them, “ze/zir” and thinking that isn’t misgendering or upsetting. I also don’t see posts that insist we respect any other character as nonbinary--particularly characters like, say, Hastur, Ligur, or Gabriel. (Perhaps I’m mistaken, but I really feel like people are even more hesitant to call more “masculine” characters nonbinary than they are Dagon, Michael, etc. Which also strikes me as having really unfortunate implications. But that’s a whole other post.) Or regular use of “Nonbinary Character” and “Canon Nonbinary Character” tags on AO3 for any other demon or angel.  All of this is really starting to get to me as a nonbinary/genderfluid person who absolutely does not see myself as agender or androgynous, even if people regularly describe my looks as “masculine” for reasons I’ll get into in a second. I’m genderfluid and nonbinary because I do not fully or consistently identify with the gender I was assigned at birth--and because I never have. While some days I feel fine with having society see me as a cis woman, some days I am deeply not okay with it--and am actually dysphoric because my body doesn’t look more stereotypically androgynous. However, when I realized that stereotypical androgyny is a concept that cisheterocentric society forces on nonbinary people--and DFAB people in particular--my dysphoria became a bit more manageable.  I also do not attend to my appearance. I have no interest in wearing makeup, flattering clothes, or even feminine ones. I wear skirts for comfort; I’ve always hated pants because of sensory issues, but if I didn’t, I’d probably wear a lot of “men’s” clothes. As it is, I wear T-shirts cut for men, rather than the fitted versions for women. And baggy clothes that men can get away with wearing, but women not so much. I don’t regularly style my hair despite having it long. I don’t shave any part of my body--which began upsetting people when I was twelve, y’all. Adults constantly bothered me about it, and about looking more feminine and stylish. I may be the only “girl” on the planet whose father encouraged her to wear shorter skirts and more flattering tops when she was in her early teens.

It really upset me, but at the time I had no language for why--other than that I felt pushed and harassed. Thankfully, people have since mostly cut that shit out, but when you deal with it as a child, it really leaves some scars and some gender confusion--a fact I only realized while typing this out! Of course, I don’t believe that any of these life choices inherently make anyone any particular gender. But society thinks differently. To it, I’m a failure as a woman, and when you add on the fact that I’m nearing forty, childfree, offbeat, clueless about ‘appropriate” interactions with men, and loud and messy because of ADHD, I’m labeled as even less of a woman. I would have no problem with this if it didn’t come with the pejorative baggage. I have never been a girl or a woman, though I feel I share enough in common with this gender to be comfortable having it be part of my identity to some degree. Even as a child, I felt this but I had no name for it because no one was talking about trans issues in a conservative red state in the 80s and 90s, and they sure as fuck wouldn’t have done it around kids. I didn’t even hear the word “nonbinary” until the early 2010s.  All of this also means that I don’t get many characters or images that represent me. Again, media portrayals of people like me (DFAB and not consistently woman-identifying) are so rare that Beelzebub is the ONLY one I have found in my adult life who isn’t, you know, the butt of a joke about viragos and lesbians who are too ugly to get a man, and “undateables.” So having people insist that using she/her is somehow misgendering is...well, I get that it’s not directed at me. That it isn’t about me personally. That it isn’t meant to hurt me. That it is a lot of nonbinary people and genderfluid people talking about their own experiences. I know all of that, and I don’t begrudge people their feelings. But it still kind of hurts when they disapprove of disagreement. And it makes me worry that fewer people will read my fic, and may accuse me of misgendering if they do, even if I always “warn” for pronouns. I’m even hesitant to make posts like this or to refer to Beelzebub as she/her in casual conversation. Which, well...kind of makes me feel like I do in life. Almost no one but my therapists knows I’m not cis, because I don’t think I could explain it to them without causing confusion and some distress. Which I don’t want to cause and don’t have the spoons to deal with, especially when my own gender issues are so complicated and unclear even to me.

I also just don’t have the spoons to deal with people for assuming I’m a cis, straight girl writing a hetero relationship when I use she/her in most of my Beelzefic. And to be honest, I’m just sort of hurt at the inconsistency around pronouns and the issues said inconsistency raise for me. 

I mean, like I said, I know this isn’t personal, and I do my best to keep that in mind. But I don’t like having to hold my thoughts in because they might upset other genderfluid and nonbinary people.** I have to do that enough in my life already as a queer person, and as a mentally ill person whose feelings are not always appropriate to the situation. Having to hold them in here, too, feels really unfair and frustrating to me, and kind of like I can’t be myself even in LGBTQ+ spaces. so... tl;dr  Use whatever pronouns for Beelzebub you like, or no pronouns at all. I am not the pronoun police, and I would never tell anyone what to do with their writing. But please don’t accuse people of misgendering if they do otherwise, or mistreat them if they do, or make assumptions about them or their reasons. You don’t know who they are or what experience they’re writing from, just as they don’t know who you are and your experiences. I guess that’s it. thank you. 

* Yes, I am aware of what Neil said on the subject. I’m genderfluid and allowed to disagree and to present an alternate view. ** I really don’t care too much about cisgender folks’ opinions on this issue. I’m sorry, but I don’t. Especially when cisgender people opine about what pronouns we should use for a character. I’m glad that they’re concerned and think they’re trying admirably to be good allies, but this really is an in-house and stay-in-your-lane issue. 

[lululeighsworld]

Wish Your Worries Away

Gunter admits that he works too hard, but he does so to protect those people he cares about. Out of concern for his well being, Leigh steps in to make sure the old soldier can enjoy a peaceful day of relaxation.

On AO3

Throughout his years, Gunter had become quite aware that many facts of life were unknown, inconsistent, and unpredictable. One element that this old knight hailing from Nohr had learned to never count upon was the weather. It could change in an instant—for better or worse—and as such, he always found himself over preparing in case of emergency. However, during the three years he had spent in Askr, Gunter discovered that rather than harsh uncertainty, June meant stretches of warm sunny days accompanied by long evening sunsets. The chances of a free afternoon coinciding with the beautiful weather were common this time of year and meant that most heroes were spending their time enjoying the sunshine, whether it be at the beach, around the castle, or visiting the marketplace. Due to this, the stables were empty, and he was glad for it. Often when others were around, he felt an immense pressure to engage in courtesy conversation while they all worked; in truth, he would much rather keep to himself and work quietly. Being alone meant that he could either let his mind wander or turn it off almost completely, focusing so intensely on his list of tasks that he didn’t even notice the soft crunching of hay coming from another person’s footsteps.

“Let’s go camping!”

“Hmm?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Gunter looked to the entrance of the stables, surprised to see Leigh. He had assumed Leigh would also be enjoying the gorgeous weather this kingdom had been blessed with. Instead, they walked towards him, holding a picnic basket and a blanket.

“Tomorrow is your birthday, isn’t it? Let’s go camping so that you can take a break for a little while.”

Gunter bit the inside of his cheek as he folded the rag he had been using to clean his horse’s armour and placed it over one shoulder. “Is it going to rain?”

“We both were there when they announced the weather for this week would be beautiful!”

“And the risk of being away from the castle?”

“We can stay on the grounds. I found a great spot to set up a tent that’s not too far away!”

“I would feel… Uneasy. Not being there for training I mean.”

Leigh paused for a moment and thought carefully about their next choice of words. They certainly didn’t want to make him feel  bad for not wanting to go camping. However, over the course of the past few weeks, the summoner had noticed that the great knight was rather tense and could definitely use a break from the battlefield.

“I think it would be good for you. To relax I mean. In fact, spending a short amount of time away from the battle will help you focus better when you return!” With a final charming smile, Gunter knew he was defeated.

“Very well. I will leave the plans to you. When will we be departing?”

“Hmm, does tomorrow sometime after lunch sound good?”

“You’ll be up at noon for lunch?” He laughed under his breath, though Leigh just shook their head and poked him in the bicep as they spoke.

“Just you watch! I can be up when it’s important!”

There was a moment of laughter as Leigh pouted playfully at the other, earning a chuckle. While it was a known fact among all the Heroes that their leader was an incredibly late riser, Gunter was also aware that despite their lack of sleep, Leigh could be awake early when it was necessary.

“It's decided then. I’ll bring Sascha around to the West entrance after lunch. Will you need help carrying anything?”

“I should be okay, don’t worry about anything at all. It’ll be your time to relax.”

“So you say...and still the thought of being away from the Castle worries me to no end…” Gunter blew out a long breath and took a seat on one of the wooden crates in the aisle. His mind was racing with a seemingly endless stream of bad scenarios that could occur while they were away, ranging from being ambushed to the little voice echoing in the back of his head to commit some heinous act. Leigh could tell that the worry was weighing on him and set down the picnic basket and blanket on the ground before moving close to run soothing fingers through his hair.

“Hey, nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.”

“Can you?” Gunter craned his neck just the slightest to look up at the other, who leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“Yes. Like I said, you need not worry about anything. I’ve taken care of all the details so that you can enjoy yourself.” They smiled, and in that instance, the old knight felt as though a portion of the huge burden which weighed on his shoulders had been washed away.

The pair talked together for a few more minutes, Leigh informing him of a few other details before departing from the stables. They gave him one last kiss on the forehead and said their goodbyes, picking up their belongings and heading back to the castle. Gunter turned back to his work only to be halted once again as Leigh hollered to him from a distance as if a last-minute thought had crossed their mind.

“Oh, please do me one last favour and keep Felicia out of the kitchen this evening!”

He chuckled and picked up his rag, looking over to the amount of work he still had to do—now with a time limit. Leigh had grown quite aware of how clumsy the younger maid could be in the kitchen and admittedly did not want her poor cooking skills giving them food poisoning on their little trip.

“So long as you make sure that young butler doesn’t sabotage the food either!”

True to their word, Leigh had indeed woken up the next day with enough time to get ready  and eat lunch, meeting Gunter at the selected location with all the items they would need for their trip. Flora had helped them tie the camping and picnic supplies to another horse prior to departure, which meant they could leave promptly on time without a hassle. Leigh was not kidding when they said he needn’t worry about any plans, and yet as they rode together on his horse, he couldn’t help but let his concerns trouble his nerves. No armour, and no weapons. What would happen if they were ambushed? Heaving out a sigh, Gunter did his best to clear his mind for the time being. There was no sense worrying about problems that didn't exist yet, and Leigh would certainly be able to tell if he wasn't taking it easy and relaxing.

The first portion of their afternoon was spent pitching their tent, a task which proved more difficult than Leigh had originally imagined. Luckily, Gunter had pitched his fair share in the past, and with the help of his expertise, they completed the task with plenty of time to take a walk through the nearby meadow before supper. Soon after their return from the stroll—their heads now adorned with flower crowns made of daffodils and irises—they laid out the picnic blanket and enjoyed the food Leigh had prepared the prior day with help from Flora. Even though the sun was setting below the horizon as they finished their meal, the temperature was still quite warm. From their position on top of the hill, away from all the lights of the castle, they also had a beautiful view as the stars slowly became visible, with not a single cloud to be found in the sky. Seizing the opportunity, they decided to make themselves cozy by lying down side-by-side in the grass as they gazed up at the star-filled sky that stretched for miles in every direction above them. Leigh pointed to a cluster slightly to their left and drew Gunter’s attention to a small group of stars.

“We call that one the Big Dipper because it looks like a ladle. Then, if you draw a line from the two stars in front this way,” Leigh’s arm moved as their finger traced an imaginary line through the night sky, “You’ll find the North Star.”

“Ah yes. It’s been many years, but I remember using that star to navigate my troops back home after exhausting battles. How interesting it is that Nohr, Askr, and your world all share the same system of stars.”

“I have no idea how it works, but I guess there are certain phenomena we just can’t explain.” Leigh laughed and rested the hand they had been using to point out the stars on their stomach. They were glad that not a cloud could be spotted in the sky, allowing them to relax and gaze up at the stars as they idly chatted the minutes away. Although Gunter had seemed tense when they first headed out on their little excursion—no doubt worrying himself over what problems might occur in the Order of Heroes with their leader being away—Leigh could tell that he was settling into their small vacation away from the others. They couldn’t recall the last time they had seen the old soldier smile so easily, the young summoner often finding themself sneaking in more glances of the knight while he was busy being drawn into the map of twinkling lights above them. The fact that whatever had grown to burden him was no longer at the forefront of this mind brought Leigh a great amount of peace.

“You know quite a bit about the stars, Leigh. Did you study them?”

“Hmm?”

“Back in your world. How did you learn so much about them?”

“Well, I did read a lot of books about space when I was younger. I guess the interest in stargazing probably started with that.”

“Space?” He questioned, turning to the other for clarification.

“It’s what we refer to all this as,” Leigh gestured to the night sky above them with an outstretched hand, “It stretches further than your mind ever could imagine. You wouldn’t believe the sorts of discoveries they’ve made. It sometimes even baffles me.”

“Such as?”

Leigh hummed to themself as they thought of something to say that wouldn’t overwhelm the old man’s mind too much. It was difficult; the concept of other galaxies or sending robots into space sounded too far-fetched to tell a person who came from a world without modern technology.

“Well,” Leigh started and pointed up to the stars in the sky, “Space is so big, and some stars are so far away that it takes a long time for their light to travel to us. So, the way we see these stars presently actually comes from the past.” They turned to look at the other and watched as his face grew puzzled, seeing his eyebrows scrunch together as he tried to make sense of what the other said, though it was without much luck. He never was good at understanding these scientific topics; best to leave them to the young ones. Leigh smiled, patting his hand, trying to bring him some reassurance. No more space explanations for tonight.

As the crickets around them chirped to life, adding a bit of background noise, the pair sat in silence together as they continued to gaze up at the sky. Gunter’s nerves had settled down a fair amount since their departure earlier that day, which allowed him to now relax as Leigh had intended. While they knew it would be pointless to insist that he stop fretting on a day-to-day basis over tiny details—which was just in his nature—they could at least try and get him to take small breaks to help ease his anxious mind. And as though someone had heard their train of thought, the most perfect and marvellous distraction flew across the sky in the blink of an eye.

“Oh wow look! A shooting star!” Leigh pointed up at the sky excitedly, drawing Gunter’s attention to the dark canvas above them. He caught sight of the star just before it could leave his vision. Soon a few more dashed across the sky, Leigh watching in amazement and Gunter admiring their enthusiasm.

“Did you make a wish as one passed by?” He asked.

“Of course!”

“What did you wish for?”

“I can’t say, otherwise it might not come true.”

“And if it does?”

“Well, I suppose I will tell you, but only if it comes true.”

More shooting stars passed by overhead, and the two continued to idly talk. The night wore on as they continued to stargaze, though as it grew later the earth around them seemed to be settling in for the night. Even the chirps of crickets ceased at a certain point, allowing Gunter to finally hear the soft breathing coming from beside him.

“Leigh? Did you fall asleep?”

“Mm… no… Just resting my eyes…”

Gunter chuckled and rose to a sitting position, taking Leigh’s right hand in his left. “That’s pretty near close to sleeping. Come on, let’s head to bed before you pass out here in the grass.”

It didn’t take long once they retreated to the safety of the tent for the night for Leigh to fall completely asleep, exhausted from the preparations the night before as well as the early wake up that morning. Gunter didn’t understand how someone could survive so long on so few hours of sleep when they usually slept in until noon, but he assumed it must have something to do with the liveliness of the young. At this point of the night, he too found himself quite tired, although he lay awake in his sleeping bag, unable to fall asleep. No thought in particular plagued his mind, but rather a bunch of little moments here and there which made him restless. Unlike he had originally thought, no misfortunes had come to harm them during their short reprise from the Order. In fact, during all the time they had spent together today, he had barely had a chance to let his nerves worry him due to all the fun he was having. He believed himself a soldier slated with the task to serve in the army for the rest of his days. Rarely did the thought cross his mind that there could be more to his life than that. If anyone had shown him that best —

The rustling of fabric beside him stirred him from his thoughts, looking down to see that Leigh had partially awoken.

“Mm… Gunter? Did I fall asleep?”

“Only a short while ago. Is something wrong?”

“I forgot to ask,” Leigh yawned and rolled over onto their side so that they could look at him better, “Did you have a good birthday?”

“Most certainly. You always know just what I need.”

“That’s good,” Leigh smiled and curled up in the confines of their sleeping bag once more, “That means my wish came true after all…”

He smiled, turning over onto his side so he could place a kiss on their temple. And then on their cheek. And finally, a good night kiss. Cozied up in his own sleeping bag and reassured by those words the other had murmured in their half-awoken state, he knew that the wish he had made that night had come true as well.

~~~

Happy Birthday Gunter! Believe it or not this fic has been in the making since last summer. I love how one version of the Summoner Support in FEH is the two units seeing a shooting star together and from that I knew I just had to incorporate it into a fic!